#they go back to how they used to act but they still had this undeniable moment of vulnerability

[geekgirles]

The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 4: A Lesson in Humility

Word Count: 15,747

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Chapter summary: "With Yugo unavailable to spend time with her, Amalia makes a daring request: that she be allowed to attend to Glip and Baltazar's classes. The question is, will she be able to keep up with one of the Council members least willing to accept her? And what will she be able to gain from going to class in the first place? Perhaps, this will turn out to be a learning experience for not just her, after all."

Was it weird to feel that after an experience that should have brought you closer to someone the distance between the two of you was greater than ever?

Because Amalia would be lying if she said that wasn’t how she was feeling at the moment. 

She really couldn’t make sense of it, no matter how much she tossed and turned at night trying to decipher it. And by ‘it’ she meant Yugo. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something had changed ever since their little excursion to the beach. The doll had already grown accustomed to his mercurial moods—sometimes he would be nothing but sweet and kind to her, other times, it was as if the mere thought of standing close to her was enough to freeze him on the spot. But given that was how he’d been acting since they first met, Amalia just figured that was just how he was, so she really didn’t think twice about it. 

Things didn’t seem to be quite so simple as of late. 

Yugo still treated her cordially and his manners when interacting with her were impeccable, befitting how a king like himself should treat a lady. However, perhaps, he was just a tad too polite? While the Eliatrope never went out of his way to be rude to her, he did go above and beyond to ensure he wasn’t too familiar, either. Not that long ago, he wouldn’t hesitate to take Amalia’s hand, especially if he sensed she could use some comfort; before either of them realised it, the distance between them would gradually grow smaller; and the Divine Doll could have sworn there was this undeniable fondness in his eyes whenever he looked at her. 

And yet, soon after they returned from their little adventure, all that perceived intimacy had gone up in smoke. In fact, she would dare to say the strangest thing was how she could feel it was all still there, even when it wasn’t; it was almost as if Yugo were holding back. 

She saw it in the strained curl of his lips, how it appeared as if he were physically forcing the smile out of his face, or at least, forcing the genuine happiness out of it. More than once, surely when the king thought she wasn’t looking, the doll caught sight of his hands making the motion of reaching out for her from the corner of her eye, only for him to then tuck them close to his body, denying them any movement. It was in the way he tended to linger by her side, only to seemingly snap out of whatever trance he found himself in and excuse himself for the day. 

Bringing her arms around herself for comfort, Amalia had to suppress a groan. It was all so confusing! How was it possible that he could act like that after their adventure, while she had actually felt closer to him than ever? Not only did they go out to explore, but thanks to Adamaï she learned that day the two of them shared a strong wanderlust. They had discussed all kinds of topics under the sun, from whatever few memories she had of her time in Inglorium, to the Eliatrope siblings' high intake of red meat. 

And they’d learned so much about each other, too! Amalia learned how going through an Eliatrope portal felt like—and subsequently swore to never experience that again—, and about Eliatrope dragons being shapeshifters. Meanwhile, Yugo (and by extension Adamaï) learned all about her connection to nature and how certain actions against plant-life could inadvertently cause her pain, as well as her own brand of shapeshifting-based tailoring. 

Moreover, Yugo had explained what love—or, more accurately, romantic love—was, and now she knew she had one more new experience to look forward to. 

Everything had been so perfect then, so why did everything feel so wrong now?

Truth be told, the Divine Doll sensed something wasn’t right the moment the Eliatrope King hastily told them they should return to the palace, his tone sounding almost desperate as he broke the quiet that had fallen over them in the afternoon sun. Said feeling only grew as they made their way back to the palace and Yugo didn’t so much as utter a word the whole time. 

At the time she had been too overjoyed by the whole experience to really dig into it, the optimistic, foolish part of herself shrugging his uncharacteristically quiet demeanour off as just Yugo being in another one of his moods. He’d be as good as new the next day. 

Said hope that things would go back to normal soon was dashed the next morning when, for the first time since redecorating her chambers, Yugo didn’t go pick her up. Despite the initial disappointment, Amalia tried to reason with herself by pointing out his royal duties probably got in the way. It was only a matter of days before said disappointment turned into hurt when she realised he was purposely avoiding her. Not only did he not bother to go see her most days, but the few times he did let himself be seen by her, the Divine Doll could feel the growing distance between them chilling her to the bone despite Oma’s tropical temperatures, his demeanour nothing like the king’s whose friendship she’d come to hold so dear.

She was especially heartbroken to realise he had even put a stop to their little routine, as several days had passed since he last trained in front of her balcony. Whispers and murmurs running down the halls, her only way of knowing the Eliatrope King had seemingly gone back to the training grounds alongside his siblings. 

Amalia would be lying if she said she hadn’t been surprised to discover the palace even had training grounds of its own. But that was beside the point. 

The point was, the same loneliness she had been feeling soon after her arrival at Oma Island was back, only this time it wasn’t caused by a room she couldn’t quite call her own, but because the one person Amalia thought she could call her friend was nowhere to be seen, and when they were together, it still felt like she was all alone. 

Even when she wandered around the palace halls, always crowded with servants and other Eliatropes, it was as if no one was there. No. Worse. If all felt as if she wasn’t there at all. 

Was it possible to never be by yourself yet you always felt alone?

Much like the last time she felt like this, Amalia’s one saving grace was getting to explore the palace. It was the only thing she could really do on her own, after all. There was no doubt in her mind she would not be allowed outside again unless Yugo acted as her escort, something she honestly doubted would happen anyway given how the Eliatrope seemed so adamant on keeping her at arm’s length. Surely another day-long field trip would be off the table. 

But more than anything, this time around she felt drawn to Glip and Baltazar’s classroom, her feet practically moving on their own accord and taking her in front of the large doors separating her from the Eliatrope siblings and the lessons they imparted behind them. Even if she couldn’t make out half of the things they said, the Divine Doll remained glued to those doors, her ears straining to absorb as much information as possible. It wasn’t mere curiosity anymore, but a genuine desire to learn that was only fuelled by Glip and Baltazar’s way of teaching. 

It was incredible how such a little, anger-prone man could imbue such passion into the things he talked about, each phrase that left his mouth helping to craft a perfectly vivid image—when he wasn’t barking out instructions on how to perform a certain move, that is. And Baltazar was always there to add his own two kamas and add the remaining details to the story. When he wasn’t the one giving the lesson, of course. Just by listening to them talk was enough for Amalia to be transported to a whole other world, one she’d never even been to but that already felt like her own—and that was just from listening to a heavily water-down version of those stories!

She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it’d be like to attend one of those classes and get the whole picture for once. 

Just then, at the same time as Baltazar was retelling a tale about a time the Council of Six had to step in because a town’s cruel governor had died under mysterious circumstances, only for everyone in his town to insist it had been the town itself that killed him, the true extent of her thought process hit Amalia. 

Clenching her fists against the door, her big, brown eyes glinted in determination as her resolve grew. As Yugo explained to her when he asked her if she wanted to go on an adventure around Oma Island, this was now her home, she was entitled to knowing her way around it. And considering she would also be living alongside the Eliatrope people for who knew how long despite being a Sadida Doll, then she figured she also had a right to know more about the race surrounding her. Moreover, if Yugo wasn’t there to help her like he said he would, then she figured she should ask the experts for help. 

Then again, Yugo was still the king, while she was ‘just’ a guest—a guest sent there directly by the gods, true, but she probably wouldn’t be able to milk that moogrr forever—, so protocol dictated she asked for his permission first. And so, for the first time since she first discovered her new pastime, Amalia tore herself away from the door even before class had been dismissed. Her step was firm and assured as she walked down the hallways in search of the Eliatrope King, the pants clinging to her skin giving her the mobility she needed. And by Sadida she would get him to listen to her before he tried to evade her yet again!

It was high time she got to attend at least one of Glip and Baltazar’s classes. 

........................................................................................................................

She found him just as he exited the throne room. Apparently, he had been listening to his people’s problems and grievances and looking for ways to solve them as quickly and efficiently as possible. Catching the tail-end of a conversation about some issue in particular Yugo couldn’t solve on his own, Amalia learned those kinds of problems were seemingly the ones the entire Council of Six deliberated on. 

Not even that much time had passed since she made up her mind about attending class and she was already learning a lot. Amalia chose to count that as a sign she made the right call. 

Yugo and Adamaï were immersed in conversation, discussing preliminary ideas on how to approach some of their people’s requests when the sound of someone clearing their throat startled them. It looked like they missed one person, that sometimes happened. 

Not even looking at whom he was talking to, Yugo cleared his own throat. “My apologies. I’m afraid I must have not seen you. Tell me, what can I do for you?” When he finally laid his eyes on the person he was talking to, he idly wondered how come he hadn’t seen her.

Despite her resolve to be firm on her request regardless of Yugo’s weird behaviour as of late, any harshness in her gaze vanished at the almost frightened look on the Eliatrope’s face at the sight of her. Trying to ignore the painful pang in her chest at his reaction, Amalia couldn’t help but drape one arm over her abdomen, trying to offer herself some comfort. Her brown gaze turned unsure and evasive, and she kept shifting in place, nervous of the incoming conversation. 

After what felt like an eternity, she finally found her voice. “Good morning, Yugo.” She bit her lip as she chanced a look his way. She allowed a small smile to grace her features. “And good morning to you as well, Adamaï.”

While the dragon answered with a nod and a smile of his own, he glanced over at his brother, waiting for his reaction. Finally, Yugo seemed to collect himself, squaring his features into a stoic mask and straightening his posture right before greeting the doll back, “Good morning, Amalia. It’s good to see you.”

The Divine Doll had to bite her lip to stop herself from accusing him of lying to her face. Instead, she said, “Yeah, you too.”

Despite herself, it really wasn’t a lie at all. 

However, greetings and small talk only get you so far, a heavy silence falling over the three of them as Yugo and Amalia couldn’t bring themselves to make the first move and speak. Eyes darting back and forth between the two and sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere—the tension was so thick he could’ve cut it with one of his claws—, it was up to Adamaï to awkwardly break the ice. 

“Is everything alright, Amalia?” He asked, offering her a small smile to put her at ease. 

The green-haired beauty let out an almost inaudible gasp, so consumed by her concerns she almost forgot why she had even come looking for Yugo in the first place. Blinking twice, she had a little trouble finding the words at first, “I-I… Um, well, you see… I…I just wanted to…to ask Yugo something.” She managed to stammer out. 

Inside, however, she was groaning in desperation. Not that long ago, conversation with Yugo was as easy as breathing! How come trying to get the words out now was harder than taking a kama from an Enutrof?!

Her confession took the king aback. “R-really? You  came all the way here because you wanted to ask me something?” While he did his best to remain nonchalant, deep inside he was bracing himself for the worst. Even if he knew what he was doing was for their own sake, a part of him wasn’t ready to be confronted by Amalia about it. 

Not just yet. And, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, maybe not ever.

Which was why he had to do a double take when Amalia admitted instead, “I wish to be able to attend Glip and Baltazar’s classes as a student.” Then, she added, a bit more timidly, “If that’s okay, of course.”

Just as he was about to let out a sigh of relief, the full extent of what the Divine Doll had just asked for hit him. “I’m sorry, you what?”

This time, Amalia stood a little taller, her voice a little clearer as she clenched her fists at her sides in determination. “I want to receive lessons from Glip and Baltazar.” She stated. 

The Eliatrope siblings exchanged awkward glances. The implications behind Amalia’s request making them sweat. 

“How do you know Glip and Baltazar are teachers?” Adamaï asked. 

At that, she grew a little sheepish. A small blush on her cheeks as she fidgeted with her fingers, she looked away. “Well… Um, remember when you asked me why I was always out and about around the palace?”

Both nodded, and even if that conversation had been up to Yugo, Adamaï still remembered quite vividly the very animated council reunion it caused. 

“One day, I stumbled across their classroom while class was in session during one of my little escapades.” The doll admitted sheepishly. She thought it’d be better to omit how she had half-listened to one lesson and hadn’t been able to bring herself to stop since. 

On the outside, Yugo looked like he was paying rapt attention to what Amalia said, but on the inside he was positively freaking out. Oh, this was bad. Very bad. Amalia wishing to go to class and learn more could result in unforeseeable consequences. Or even worse. It could result in the very consequences Efrim had been so paranoid about—Amalia acting as an undercover agent for the gods and trying to find out their secrets. 

The fact that Glip himself wasn’t exactly one of her most ardent supporters only complicated matters. 

Already fearing for the worst, Yugo scrambled to find a way to dissuade the Sadida Doll without making it too obvious he didn’t want her to learn more about his people. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

For now, he was off to a terrible start. 

If having Adamaï staring owlishly at him wasn’t bad enough, Amalia’s little offended pout only put the last nail on the coffin. 

“Why not?” She asked, an eyebrow raised. 

“Because…” the Eliatrope began, flashing his brother a pleading look and cursing under his breath when the dragon raised his claws up in a ‘Leave me out of this’ fashion. Resisting the urge to narrow his eyes at his sibling, he finally settled for the teacher’s most prominent flaw. “Because Glip has a terrible temper.” He blurted out, before regaining some confidence. “And he is very strict, too. Trust me, you don’t want to have your marks graded by him. If it were up to him, none of his students would pass unless they studied day and night.”

“But it’s not up to him. Baltazar is also a teacher and they work together.” Amalia pointed out, not missing a beat. 

Feeling his eye twitch, Yugo felt the mighty need to scream into a pillow due to her very astute, very accurate observation. 

“That’s true, but still, their classes can be very demanding…”

“But I want to learn!” Amalia exclaimed, her eyes big and pleading. “I’m tired of only half-listening to their lessons through closed doors, I want to have the full picture.”

“Wait, how long have you been eavesdropping on them…?” Adamaï tried to ask, but was ignored. 

“And that’s commendable, Amalia, really!” Yugo tried to assure her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. A second later, however, upon noticing what he had just done, he tucked it away as fast as if he’d been burned. He was so busy trying to regain some semblance of control, he missed the way the doll’s eyes dimmed at his actions. Or Adamaï’s frown. “It’s just…”

“What?” She cut him off, her tone challenging. “What’s so bad about me wanting to learn more about your people?”

Everything. 

So far, Amalia’s curiosity about the world around her had been child-like and innocent, the kind you’d expect from a stranger in a brand new place. The kind of curiosity and wonder he felt for the world around him. But if she started asking questions about his people… Then he would no longer be able to convince his siblings she wasn’t up to something. He wouldn’t be able to convince himself she wasn’t a threat. And even though in the past he’d had no qualms confronting or even getting rid of what he thought might put his people’s safety in jeopardy, for some reason, when it came to Amalia, he couldn’t bear the thought of cutting her off for good. 

He blamed his people’s need to get in this world’s gods’ good graces for making him hesitate. 

And for making him realise he couldn’t just say he wouldn’t allow her to study with Glip and Baltazar because she couldn’t be trusted. 

So he lied through his teeth. “Because only children attend their classes; when Eliatropes reach a certain age, they choose their own path, be it battle, crafts, medicine… Won’t you feel a little uncomfortable being the only adult in a room full of kids?”

“Glip and Baltazar are adults too.” Amalia shrugged, not missing a beat. She raised an eyebrow at him, however. “And didn’t you just say it would be very demanding? If anything, that would only mean it’s closer to my level than the kids’.”

Cursing how easily his words could be turned against him—and making it a point to dig his heel into Adamaï’s foot when he heard him snicker at his misfortune—, Yugo found himself floundering for words. “Well, yeah… But, um… you see… I…”

“Please, Yugo.” She cut him off, her voice desperate. Despite her apprehension and the weird phase their relationship was going through, Amalia mustered up the courage to step a little closer to him, her body leaning in with her hands clasped before her chest. Pleading, begging for him to listen to what she had to say. “You told me it was only natural I learned my way around Oma Island if this is going to be my home from now on. Don’t you think that should apply to your people, too?

“Not only am I a Sadida surrounded by Eliatropes and dragons, I’m the only Divine Doll currently inhabiting this world!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms to her sides to emphasise her point. “I’m going to be living with your people for the gods know how long, much like with the island, I need to know things about you, like your traditions, and what you consider sacred, things I must and mustn’t do… As I am right now, even the little kids Glip and Baltazar teach know so much more than I do! Please, Yugo, please! This isn’t about me just being curious, this is about me needing to learn, for my own sake.”

Her eyes were almost watery when she finished, her voice at the verge of breaking, “Please, tell me you will at least consider it.”

If Yugo was already having a hard time trying to remain firm and put his foot down in the face of Amalia going above and beyond to tug at his heartstrings, Adamaï's disapproving look at his refusal pushed him over the edge. Despite all he had been doing to ensure he wouldn’t get too close to Amalia and she wouldn’t get too close to him, it was plain to see he had much work to do if he wanted to be free of her influence.

Defeated, he drew a deep exhale through his nose. “I’ll ask Glip and Baltazar next time I see them, alright? After all, it’s their class. They have the last say in everything concerning it.”

Her reaction was immediate.

“Really?!” She exploded, her eyes shining like stars in the midnight sky at the good news. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you so much, Yugo!”

The Divine Doll was beyond herself with joy. Sure, she still needed Glip and Baltazar’s permission, but she was already one step closer to her goal! Amalia was so overjoyed, she couldn’t help herself and practically threw herself at Yugo’s arms, the pull to hug him tightly as thanks stronger than she was. 

But just as she was about to wrap her arms around him in celebration, she was abruptly stopped by two strong hands resting firmly on her shoulders. Eyes snapping open at the unexpected action, she glanced up, a painful pang in her chest at the sight of Yugo looking supremely uncomfortable as he tried to keep her at bay. 

Memories of the last few days rushing back, Amalia quickly took a step back and away from the king. Making a show of dusting off her outfit and willing the blush away from her cheeks, mortified, she cleared her throat. “Um, uh, thank you, Yugo.” She coughed into her hand. 

“You’re welcome, Amalia. I’ll see what I can do.” Was Yugo’s equally awkward response, his throat tightening up.

Moving back and forth on the heel of her feet, she eventually pointed behind her. “I… Um, I should probably go. I’m sure you’re quite busy. Uh, thanks again and, you know, see ya! You too Adamaï.”

As the two waved awkwardly at each other, turning around and resolutely making their way to opposite directions of the palace, Adamaï watched it all with a critical eye. As he stared at his brother’s retreating back, replaying what had just taken place as well as the past few days’ events in his mind, the dragon narrowed his eyes. 

He had a very bad feeling about this. The kind of feeling that told him Yugo would come to regret whatever he was doing very soon.

........................................................................................................................

“Nope. Absolutely not. Not gonna happen. I forbid it.”

Yugo had half the mind not to slam his head against the table in exasperation. It was one thing that Glip refused to teach Amalia, but his doing so this vehemently, to the point of crossing his arms and deliberately shaking his head to get his point across, was just unnecessary. 

It took even more of him not to slam Qilby against the table for what he said next:

“Did anybody else notice all we ever talk about when we meet up as of late is Yugo’s precious flower?” He pointed out, one finger raised and his characteristically smug smirk on his lips. 

“Meh, it beats having to listen to you bring up our 97th reincarnation and how Chibi and Grougal’s first spaceship prototype blew up in their faces.” Phaeris shrugged, leaning back in his chair. Luckily for him, it was the aforementioned inventors’ turn to patrol the island, so he wouldn’t get in hot water with them for making fun of their scientific pursuits. 

The peeved snarl curling at Qilby’s lip at his dragon brother’s quip was a welcomed reminder as to why Mina and Phaeris were the king’s favourite siblings after Adamaï. While they always knew how to break up their infighting and childish bickering, Phaeris in particular had the added divine gift of always knowing how to get under the bespectacled Eliatrope’s skin. 

It really was the sweetest payback after all his relentless teasing. 

“That actually happened in our 79th reincarnation and you know it!” Qilby snapped, his hazel eyes narrowing at his brother behind his glasses. On the table, his fists clenched in aggravation even after Shinonomé placed a hand on them to calm her twin down. 

“Don’t start up again, you two.” The red dragoness admonished, tired of the same old song and dance. “We have much more urgent matters to attend to, like Lady Amalia’s request.” She reminded them, her tone kind but serious. 

“They can spend all day bickering as far as I’m concerned, because I already made my stance on allowing the Divine Doll near any of my classes clear.” Glip groused, his arms still folded over his chest stubbornly as he stuck up his nose in indignation. 

They were currently gathered around the Eliaculus at the council room once again, Yugo having called for a meeting as soon as he’d been done listening to his subjects’ grievances for the day. It was something they usually did. Whenever the king was faced with a problem he couldn’t solve on his own, he summoned his siblings at the council room to tackle the issue together and find a solution to it. The fact that this time the reunion also came immediately after Amalia made her request was a very beneficial coincidence for the Sadida Doll. 

And a very unfortunate one for Yugo. 

“And you’d be wise to refuse her request, Glip.” Efrim chimed in, his long tail curled around his lithe body even as he rested on his chair. Without warning, he jabbed a claw on the table. “It’s one thing we allow her to roam freely around our palace or our island, but letting her learn more about us directly from the source?” He scoffed at the mere thought, before sniffing derisively, “What’s next, sending her to Chibi and Grougal’s laboratory so she can learn how to build a weapon to kill us all? I say we’d better not take any chances.”

Massaging his temples in an attempt to soothe his pounding headache, Yugo bit his lip as to not point out that Chibi and Grougal would actually be ecstatic to have a willing audience as they worked on their projects. Or the fact that, technically speaking, Amalia still wasn’t allowed to leave the palace premises without him, so she couldn’t explore the island freely, either. That would only earn him a glare from Efrim, and he was not in the mood for arguing with him. 

“Not only that,” Glip added, nodding along. “My students are young, it already takes everything in my power to get them to pay attention on their worst days, imagine what would happen if the Divine Doll were to join us; my class would fall into anarchy!”

Under the table, Yugo couldn't help but clench his fists until his knuckles turned white at the teacher’s words. Outrage on Amalia’s behalf bubbling up within him. That feeling only got worse at what he said next:

“Besides, even if they are disorganised, they are still my students. We’re very advanced on our syllabus, she would only lag behind.” He let out a low chuckle as he proceeded to examine his cane absentmindedly, as if the mere topic at hand bored him. “Better save her the embarrassment of being the only adult in a group of children who doesn’t know the most basic aspects of Eliatrope society.”

The king knew his brother could be quite brusque and ill-tempered, not to mention arrogant in his own abilities, but the way he was disregarding their guest was simply uncalled for. Amalia did not deserve to be looked down like that when all she wanted to do was learn. Fortunately, before he had the chance to tell Glip any of that, Baltazar mercifully beat him to it:

“The only reason she doesn’t know, Glip, is because she is a Sadida Doll.” The dragon pointed out from his spot behind his sibling, where he rested lying on the floor. “You cannot expect someone so young and from an entirely different culture to immediately know everything about ours, especially if you refuse to teach her.” 

Pretending to lower his head in a nod, Yugo took advantage of the way his hood came to cover most of his face to allow a small, grateful smile to plaster itself on his lips. He could always count on Baltazar to reign his twin brother in. 

Despite his large size, Baltazar was arguably the least imposing of the Eliatrope dragons. Unlike the rest, who flaunted lithe yet robust forms and an impressive wingspan, Baltazar, much like his twin, was comparatively stumpy. His body was distinctly barrel-shaped, with thick limbs and tail, but stubby wings and horns. Truth be told, more than once the siblings found themselves wondering how they withstood his weight whenever he flew. Their best bet was that it had to be his own special gift.

Baltazar stood out in many other ways as well. His scales were a very light beige, with darker-coloured spots covering his form from head to tail. His snout was as square-shaped as his twin’s face, and the pair also shared their bushy eyebrows, however, unlike Glip’s chesnut-coloured hair and goatee, Baltazar sported a rather unkempt white beard, which gave him a grandfatherly look even back when they were all children. 

It wasn’t like the look provided by his beard wasn't appropriate, though, for while Glip could be strict, easy to anger, and very grumpy, Baltazar was much calmer, more patient—especially with the kids—, and  very kind. Even if he actually wasn’t the eldest sibling, he really did play the role of grandfather perfectly. So it wasn't a surprise that he was usually the one tasked with reeling his brother’s worst impulses in.

Unfortunately, while his comment gave Glip some pause, he apparently still had much to say. 

“Perhaps, dear brother.” The shortest Eliatrope started, his lips pursed. “But precisely because she is from a completely different race, there’s not much I can teach her. Remember? I specialise in teaching Wakfung—I cannot teach someone who doesn’t project wakfu like we do.” 

“Thank the Great Goddess for that!” Efrim chimed in sarcastically. “Can you imagine the disaster it would be if she discovered the flaws in our fighting style?”

“Efrim, please. Let’s hear what Baltazar has to say.” Nora whispered to him, almost pleadingly, a hint of concern in her voice. She loved her brother and understood better than anyone his desire to be careful, but she was starting to grow worried over his growing hostility towards Amalia. Each passing day, he sounded less like the brother she so adored and more like a complete stranger.

Purposely ignoring the youngest twins’ conversation, Baltazar pressed on, not missing a beat. “That does not mean she cannot learn about our history or our customs, Brother. You may specialise in Wakfung, but Baltazar doesn't.” Raising one paw from the ground, he proudly pointed between the two of them to emphasise his point. 

That was another key difference between the two siblings. While they weren’t above working together to lecture their students on certain topics—in fact, those were arguably their best lessons—, the two had different interests and approaches to their people’s education. Glip was a firm believer that their people should learn how to control their wakfu and defend themselves as soon as possible, hence why he was an expert on Wakfung, their people’s martial art of combining their particular brand of magic with hand-to-hand combat. Meanwhile, Baltazar was the most scholarly of the two, his passion for uncovering and sharing knowledge second only to Qilby and Shinonomé—and only because they had the unfair advantage of retaining everything they learned from their previous lives.

Despite his brother’s best efforts, Glip only shook his head ruefully. “Brother, I’m afraid you’re clearly not seeing the dangers in allowing the Divine Doll in our class. She could endanger the children!”

“Exactly!” Efrim agreed, his tail unfolding just enough for him to stand taller amongst his siblings around the table. “We have yet to determine she is not a threat to us, and with those Cra sentinels from the other day threatening our safety from the outside, we can’t afford to allow the threat to come from inside!”

“Phaeris took care of the Cra, Young One.” The dragon in question was quick to remind his younger brother, never one to let his efforts go unnoticed. He wasn’t called ‘The Powerful’ for nothing. “Phaeris intercepted them before they could get too close to the island.”

“The mere fact that they came all the way here is suspicious enough.” Efrim shot back ominously, his eyes narrowing menacingly. 

“Efrim is right.” Glip agreed, not for the first time. At this point, Yugo was inclined to believe the two had formed an Anti Amalia Club or something behind their backs and this was all rehearsed. “Our people are vulnerable as is, we can’t afford the risk of letting the Divine Doll uncover our secrets!” In his disbelief, the Wakfung master stomped on the floor with his cane, the resounding thud! echoing around the council room. He shook his head ruefully. “I simply do not understand why you and Yugo are so intent on letting her attend our class.”

While Baltazar remained impassive even in the face of his twin’s outburst, Yugo was having a hard time trying not to squirm out of his chair and tear Glip a new one. The worst part was he didn’t even understand his own behaviour! This was what he wanted; for Glip to reject Amalia’s request so she wouldn’t have access to their secrets and end up proving his distrusting siblings right about her. For all intents and purposes, he should be siding with Glip and Efrim on this one! He had tried dissuading her of her goal not even an hour ago!

This—was—what—he—wanted!

And yet, the moment his siblings started accusing Amalia, claiming she only had ulterior motives rather than a genuine interest in their culture or, even worse, that there was no point in trying to teach her anything, it all made his blood boil. His fingers clutching at the fabric of his cloak as he tried to keep himself in check, he bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood. And he stubbornly refused to meet Adamaï’s eyes because he knew his brother would be able to tell he was quite bothered by everything that was taking place and he did not want to give him the satisfaction. 

Again, it was Baltazar who voiced the king’s thoughts—although the heavily revised and edited version of them. “Lady Amalia is our guest and has expressed an interest in learning more about us. Many would wish to have the same opportunity.”

“Perhaps, but surely those people have a lot more to gain from the experience than us.” Glip replied stubbornly, glancing up at his brother and raising an eyebrow, as if daring the dragon to refute him. 

It seemed as if he had underestimated the old scholar, for he simply smiled down at him. “Just like Lady Amalia wishes to know more about us, we could take this opportunity to learn more about Sadida.” Yugo and Adamaï were taken aback when Baltazar’s tired gaze rested on them. “After all, just the other day, Yugo and Adamaï discovered Sadidas’ connection to nature is so deep, they feel pain if plants are damaged. That is valuable information.”

“Indeed. I’ll make sure to apologise next time I make myself a salad.” Glip deadpanned. 

Yugo had had enough. His siblings’ attitude towards Amalia had long moved past simple wariness to outright disrespect. If they wished to eventually live in peace with the other races populating the World of Twelve, that kind of behaviour would simply not do. 

So he told Glip as such. 

“While I understand your concerns, Glip,” that wasn’t a lie, he had been genuinely worried upon hearing Amalia’s request. “We mustn’t waste a perfect opportunity like this one. Who knows when the next one will present itself?”

“‘Perfect opportunity’?” Efrim echoed, mockery dripping from his tone. “To what, draw a target on our backs that says, ‘Come and get us!’?”

“To be one step ahead.” Yugo smirked when that finally got a reaction from the members attending, though not before sending Nora a look telling her to please control her brother. 

“What do you mean by that, Yugo?” It was Mina who spoke. Much like Shinonomé, for the most part she had chosen not to intervene. After all, at least this time their conversation was more like an animated debate than a heated argument on its way to becoming a fist fight. 

“If the gods have truly sent Amalia to spy on us and learn our weaknesses, then let’s turn that into an advantage!” He finally stood up from his chair, his aching body ever grateful for the small respite—how come Chibi and Grougal could successfully lead the construction of an entire settlement in record time, and yet they couldn’t choose comfortable furniture for one of the rooms they’d be spending the most time in? 

He leaned closer to the table, his hands resting on it as he made his point. “The gods said Amalia was sent here as a sign of good will, and yet, we haven’t treated her as such since she arrived! I say we play their game and beat them at it.”

Glip couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He loved and respected Yugo both as his brother and his king, but it was clear all logical thought escaped him whenever his little doll was concerned. And seeing as Adamaï wasn’t much help at the moment, it was up to him and Efrim to get their ruler to see reason. 

“That’s all great and all, but what does any of that have to do with the Divine Doll attending my class?”

He certainly hadn’t been expecting Yugo’s answer:

“It’ll help us set the right example.” He smirked, his brown eyes glinting excitedly at his own idea. With the same amount of energy, he made a sweep around the table with his eyes, purposely drawing his siblings’ attention to him. “If we hope to live in peace with the Twelvians, then we should know each other’s history, culture, and traditions. And what better way to start than by having a Divine Doll learn all about ours?

“In turn, I’m sure Amalia will be delighted to let us know whatever we want about her, her sisters, and maybe even their father. After all, she had no qualms showing vulnerability when I accidentally hurt her—if she truly were here as our enemy, she would show no weakness of any kind, especially if it can be exploited.”

At that, the attending members of the Council of Six began to deliberate, murmurs of agreement echoing around the walls as Yugo watched it all, a supremely self-satisfied grin on his face. 

“It is true Amalia’s presence and the knowledge she can provide us with could be a huge help in ensuring the Sadida’s trust, at the very least.” Nora pointed out, her thumb and index finger holding her chin pensively. Even Efrim had to agree with her statement.

“Only because you won’t allow me to examine her.” Qilby complained with a sulky roll of his eyes. “Had you let me study her when I first suggested it, we would have all the answers by now!”

“We are not going to experiment on her, Qilby!” The entirety of the Council of Six (sans Chibi and Grougal, of course) roared in abject horror at their brother’s insistence, even Efrim and Glip. Just because they didn’t trust the Sadida Doll, it didn’t mean they trusted Qilby with her, either. 

“You never let me do anything…” The bespectacled Eliatrope mumbled. With a sigh, Shinonomé began to gently rub his arm up and down for comfort. 

“As Yugo said, Lady Amalia’s presence is supposed to be a sign of good will. It is high time we treated her as such.” Baltazar sentenced, putting an end to that particular topic. Despite his calm features, he sent his twin a very pointed look, clearly expecting him to be the voice of dissent once again. 

For his part, even as he was still sulking in his chair, Glip perked up at his brother’s not-so-subtle stare. Despite himself, he let his eyes wander around his siblings, gauging their reactions. He had to bite the inside of his cheek when everyone was looking at him expectantly. He could feel a vein about to pop—he hated when they all ganged up on him like that!

After what felt like an eternity, the Wakfung master let out a long-suffering sigh that gradually turned into a groan. Rubbing his eyes in frustration and exhaustion, he asked, “You’re not gonna leave me alone until I give in, are you?”

Their shaking heads in unison was all the answer he needed, and the one he was dreading the most. 

“Fine.” He ended up saying, although very reluctantly. “The doll can come to our class, but she’d better not fall behind! If she does, I’m not lifting a finger to help her!”

His threat lost a good amount of impact when Baltazar piped up, “Worry not. Baltazar will make sure to help her with whatever she may need.”

Glip sent his brother the stink-eye. “You just love undermining my authority, don’t you?”

Even with his imposing girth, Baltazar managed to shrug, an all-too-innocent smile on his snout as he looked down at his brother. 

Glip’s scowl deepened. “The only reason you care about the doll being in our class is because that way you might learn a lot about her people, isn’t it?”

Baltazar’s smile didn’t falter.  

While the masters bickered, Yugo let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, letting himself slump on his chair. A small, tired smile made its way to his features. At least that would make Amalia happy.

.........................................................................................................................

Amalia had a hard time remaining still as she waited for class to start. Well, technically, that wasn’t true. She could already hear the children’s animated chatter from behind the doors, she was only waiting for Baltazar to announce her arrival so the kids wouldn’t be too surprised at the sight of the famed Sadida Doll sent to their king going to class with them. As she waited for her cue, she kept rocking herself back and forth on the ball of her feet, her hands tapping rhythmically against her thighs. 

Since she had never been to the other side, she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Would they all sit on the floor forming a ring around their teachers? Would they have individual desks and chairs? Maybe benches? Either way, the doll didn’t feel like taking any chances and settled for her adventuring outfit and the low-risk her pants provided. Maybe she wasn’t out and about seeing the world, but she was about to have her first day of class. If that wasn’t an adventure, she didn’t know what was.

She certainly felt more nervous now than she did when Yugo took her to the beach. 

Her excitement dimmed slightly at the thought of the king. She hadn’t seen him since she made her request; he had even sent Adamaï to inform her of the good news rather than doing it himself. Amalia really didn’t know what had got into him, but she was starting to grow really sick and tired of feeling so helpless. Next time she got the chance, she was going to give that elusive monarch a piece of her mind. 

Feeling all fired up, her fists clenched close to her chest determinedly, the Divine Doll almost jumped right out of her skin at the unexpected deep, gruff voice coming from down below. 

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not like this because you happen to find my brother’s customary greeting to the children riveting?” 

Amalia didn’t need to even know who was talking to know their words were dripping with sarcasm. Then again, she was perfectly aware of whom the voice belonged to; she had listened to him talk far too many times not to be able to recognise him. 

With a blink, she glanced down to her side and, lo and behold, there he was, Glip, the Eliatrope children’s Wakfung master. The doll still had no idea what Wakfung even was, but she had a feeling it might have been some sort of martial art given whenever it was time to teach it she would only hear battle cries and instructions like ‘Aim your portal a little higher’ or ‘Alternate between beam and kick’ coming from the other side.

As her brown gaze met Glip’s dark scowl, the doll could feel herself sweatdrop, an awkward laugh all she could muster at the moment. She knew he was harsh from listening in on his lessons, and the few times they crossed paths in the halls were almost as frightening as doing so with Efrim, but now that she found herself under the true fire of his gaze, Amalia felt scrutinised. Like he was already grading one of her tests. 

And what was worse, like she failed said test. 

A heavy silence stretched over them after his words, and Amalia had half the mind not to beg her father to suck her up in one of their divine portals or whatever they used to communicate with the World of Twelve and get her out of this situation. But then she remembered how much she wanted to be on the other side, and how much she begged Yugo for this and she changed her mind. Even if she was still mad at him for how weird he was being, Yugo definitely delivered. 

It was thanks to him she was even allowed to study their people’s history and culture, the least she could do was remain strong in the face of adversity. 

A sense of newfound vigour coursing through her veins, she clenched her fists discreetly to give herself some courage. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she addressed the Primordial Eliatrope that would be her teacher from now on, “It’s an honour to finally meet you—.”

“Rule Number 1: don’t talk in class unless you’ve been given permission after raising your hand.” He cut her off, not even looking her way. 

Amalia blinked, taken by surprise. “But… we’re not even in class yet…”

He ignored her. “Rule Number 2: pay attention in class.” And with that and without looking back even once, he turned the doorknob and let himself inside, the children all quieting down and greeting their teacher at the sight of him.

Flabbergasted and not sure what to do, Amalia was about to open her mouth when she could finally make out Baltazar’s voice from the other side:

“From now on, children, a very special guest will join our class.” He started, the kind tone of his voice a stark contrast to his twin’s gruffness. “Apparently, she’s shown remarkable interest in our people, even if she is unfamiliar with our customs. That is why we must be patient and understanding of her situation. And without further ado, let’s all give a warm welcome to our new student: Lady Amalia!”

That was her cue. Taking one last deep breath to steady herself, Amalia copied Glip’s actions. She grabbed a hold of the doorknob and turned it, finally opening the door to new experiences, both literally and figuratively, and entered the room, though not before closing her eyes in slight apprehension. 

When her arrival was met with an eerie silence, the Sadida Doll finally mustered up the courage to open one eye experimentally. Only for both of them to snap open in shock at the sight before her. Her brown gaze clocked in on the vast expanse of space inside, sandstone pillars lining up the mural-covered walls, only this time, it was clear to see the paintings were meant to reflect what took place inside the room—schematic designs of Glip and Baltazar were constantly surrounded by smaller Eliatropes as they either studied, played, or made portals; the little ones they were meant to raise and teach. 

In the background she could make out a lot of equipment, such as safety nets, hoops, mats, and even what looked like small arenas. In fact, a quick glance upwards was all it took for the Sadida Doll to notice there was actually a large safety net, tied around the four sturdiest pillars, going from one side of the room to the other, right below the ceiling. Although Amalia had the impression there was a patch of space where the ropes seemed more worn out than the rest, but she had no time to dwell much on it. It was all very impressive to see, but she had no idea what it was even for. 

Another thing that caught her eye was how each wall separated by a column had a porthole. On paper, it was only natural that a room full of children would have windows, so the space could be bathed in natural light. What wasn’t so natural, however, was how the landscape seemed to change from one porthole to the next. Okay, she hadn’t been on Oma for long, but she would have sensed the lack of vegetation typical from an honest-to-the-gods desert.

Once again, Baltazar’s warm voice broke her out of her musings, “Kids, Lady Amalia here is a Divine Doll. Much like we descend from the Great Goddess Eliatrope, she was created by this world’s god of nature, Sadida. She is here as our guest, so Baltazar hopes you will make her feel welcomed.”

The dragon’s words caused a small gasp to leave her lips. Of course, the children! She had been so busy observing the interior of the room she had completely overlooked to get a good look at Yugo’s youngest subjects. 

What she found was so adorable Amalia had to bite her lip hard to keep herself from squealing loud enough to shatter their weird-looking windows. 

Staring back at her, awe in their eyes, were dozens of little children, boys and girls, of all ages. From a distance, she could make out the similarities between them, and was momentarily taken aback by how much they all looked like Yugo. Technically, that shouldn’t have been surprising, as her father had once explained to her that a god's followers would all inherit some key characteristics from them, making their people look somewhat homogeneous. However, seeing as the Eliatrope members of the Council all had very distinctive features, such as slightly different hair colours, she had not been prepared to come face to face with a group of children all sporting Yugo’s exact same shade of dirty blond hair, slightly tanned skin, and dark brown eyes. 

Then, there was their clothing. While the Eliatrope King always wore his blue battlesuit and cloak, the Eliatrope children all wore much more appropriate outfits for their age. Shirts, pants, dresses, skirts… And yet, wherever she looked, all she could see were large, eared hats whose colour matched the rest of their clothes. Unlike the members of the Council and their varied colour scheme, most kids wore yellow or a light orange, though they were a few exceptions wearing green, blue, or even white, too.

Which was another surprise in itself since the only other Eliatropes Amalia had come in contact with besides Yugo and the Council members had been the elite guards and servants working inside the palace. And they all wore light purple robes that covered the entirety of their bodies except for their eyes. 

As she met the little ones’ awestruck expressions with one of her own and a small smile, Amalia realised with a start this was her first time ever seeing children. A warm sensation spread over her chest; they were simply precious.

“Hi, there.” She finally said, offering the kids a small, friendly wave. 

And with that simple gesture, chaos ensued.

In what felt like a split-second, the doll had dozens of children surrounding her, looking up at her with starry-eyed expressions. Looking back and forth between all of them, Amalia felt like her head was about to explode with the cacophony of sounds assaulting her ears. 

“She’s so pretty!”

“Why is your hair green?”

“Is it true what the adults say? You’re really here to marry King Yugo?”

“Are you really a doll? You don’t look like a doll.”

“Do you really not know anything about us?”

“Can you do any cool Sadida tricks?”

“Oh, yes! Please, do something cool, like-like, growing a huge tree from the ground!”

As the Divine Doll was being bombarded with questions, the uneasy smile on her face doing nothing to hide how overwhelmed she felt, Baltazar and Glip were watching the scene. But while the beige dragon was staring at it fondly, the Wakfung master had his arms over his chest and a surly look on his face. 

“Look at that,” He scoffed. “Not even five minutes in and she’s already driven our kids crazy! I knew it was a bad idea to let her in…”

Baltazar just rolled his eyes. “Please, Glip, they’re children. Baltazar has seen them lose focus on class because they saw a bird through one of the portals. How did you expect them to react at the sight of the Divine Doll everyone’s been talking about?”

“I maintain her presence is only going to be a huge distraction for the children and a waste of time for us.”

Knowing it would take his brother a while before he finally let go of his reservations about Amalia, Baltazar simply walked back to their lectern. Though, to be completely honest, it was just a plain old rock gorged in wakfu where Glip liked to stand above their students as he taught the lesson. The shortest Eliatrope liked to claim it was so all their students could see him without having to worry about the tallest ones getting in the shorter ones’ way, but they all knew better. They just chose not to comment on it. 

Taking pity on the poor divine creature attending their class that day, the dragon cleared his throat. “Very well, children. Baltazar knows you are all very excited to meet Lady Amalia, and she will love to answer all your questions but first, today’s lesson.” 

At the sound of their disappointed whimpers and whines, he sent his Eliatrope twin a look, reminding him of his cue. “Alright, alright, settle down! You can’t be playing all the time! If we could, this wouldn’t be a class but a playground. Come on, around us!”

At Glip’s instructions, the kids looked more than a little dejected, and Amalia’s eyes widened at the sight of the ears on their hats drooping. But she didn’t have much time to dwell on that, for she suddenly found herself being dragged to the centre of the room by a little hand. Looking down in surprise, she came face to face with a smiling Eliatrope girl that wore her hair in pigtails under an orange hat. 

“C’mon, m’Lady. You can sit with me.” She said as she led the doll to the centre of the room, where the other children were already beginning to sit down around their teachers. 

“Oh! Uh, thank you, um…”

“My name is Lori.” She giggled cutely as she finally took her place, causing Amalia to smile as she followed suit. 

“Nice to meet you, Lori—.”

“Don’t go thinking that just because you’re a guest you’re exempt from the classroom rules, you hear me?” Glip’s gruff, chiding voice interrupted her. Looking up at him, she couldn’t help but gulp at the glare he was sending her way. “In case you already forgot, the very first rule is that you cannot talk in class until you are given permission. And that’s only after you’ve raised your hand for said permission. Are we clear?”

Amalia didn’t know what to feel. Not because he was scolding her for breaking a rule, or anything like that. He was right in that sense; just because she was a guest, that didn’t mean she was above following the rules like everyone else. No. What caught her eye was the fact that, technically, Lori had broken that rule too, yet he was only reprimanding her. With a shake of her head, she chose to let it go. She didn’t want to be the kind of person who got mad because a child wasn’t being yelled at instead of her. 

That was just wrong on so many levels. 

“Yes, sir.” She ended up saying instead, though a part of herself couldn’t help but pray to Sadida she hadn’t made the same mistake. 

Glip just regarded her with an unreadable expression, his hold on his cane tightening. Thankfully, no, she didn’t make the same mistake. 

“The appropriate title is Master Glip.” 

She just made another one.

And with that, Glip turned around, stuck his cane between one of the wakfu-filled cracks going up and down the large stone in the middle of the room and levered himself up to the top in one swift motion, landing on his feet even as he somersaulted in the air. 

Amalia’s jaw hit the floor. Although she was quick to shut her mouth, seeing as the children around her remained unperturbed by the Primordial Eliatrope’s display. Maybe that was a common occurrence?

Back to Glip, now that he was up on his rock, he stomped his cane  against it three times to ensure he had everyone’s attention. Once everyone’s eyes were fixed on him—even the doll’s—, he explained in a booming voice:

“For those of you who don’t know,” he sent the Divine Doll a condescending look, “today’s lesson will be mixed. The first half will be spent studying Eliatrope History with Baltazar, while we will be working on the katas we learned last time after practicing on our own for a bit during the second half. Are there any questions?”

The Wakfung master had to suppress the urge to groan in exasperation when he saw the doll’s hand raised. If it weren’t for Baltazar flashing him a warning glare, he would have pretended not to see and continued with the lesson as if nothing had happened. 

“Yes?” He pointed at her with his cane, derision laced with his tone despite his best efforts.

“Um, sorry, but what’s a kata?” Amalia asked a little sheepishly, tucking a strand of her forest-green hair behind her ear when the children around her giggled at her question. Funny how she was being laughed at and that still felt a lot less judgemental than how Glip was treating her. 

His only response was a smirk. “You’ll see.” Then, out of nowhere, he clasped his hands as he gestured to his dragon twin. “The floor’s all yours, Baltazar.”

For his part, Baltazar’s expression was rather cold even as he stared back at his brother. He would definitely have a word with him over his treatment of Amalia after class was over. But first:

“Thank you, Glip.” Even his tone was icy as he addressed his twin. Then, it softened considerably as he focused back on the kids. “Today’s a very special day, children. Since this is Lady Amalia’s first day, how about we show her how much we’ve learned so far? Any volunteers to share our last lesson?”

It didn’t take long for the reaction he had been dreading to be sparked. As soon as those words left his mouth, all children present seemed to shrink on themselves, the few of them that were closest to a bewildered Amalia scooted over to the Divine Doll as if she could offer them some cover from the terrible fate that was being asked to repeat a lesson aloud.

He had to count the fact that none of them had tried to create a portal to run away yet as a success. 

He waited a few minutes, but eventually gave up with a sigh as none of the children could even look him in the eye. He understood between Yugo and Adamaï’s adventures and Glip’s teachings, their people’s history might not look as appealing, but it was still worth learning. Knowledge could open the door to so many new experiences and even help you perfect things you already knew, just as it helped you avoid making the same mistakes again. And Baltazar knew the children paid attention in his classes, if only they weren’t so afraid of speaking up.

“Looks like you’ll have to take it from the top again, Brother.” Glip sent him a compassionate look, knowing how much this meant to him. 

“Baltazar would say so, yes.” With a tired smile, he opened up his mouth, ready to begin… Only to be interrupted by Amalia raising her hand yet again. Arching one bushy eyebrow, he asked, “Yes, Lady Amalia? Is everything alright? Forgive Baltazar, but he cannot understand how you can have a question already since he has yet to say a word.”

Slowly, Amalia lowered her hand and brought it to her chest, a small blush colouring her cheeks. “Oh! Um, no. I mean, it’s not exactly a question, but… more of a request, actually?”

The twins exchanged confused glances. “A request?”

“This isn’t a ball where you can just ask the band to play a song, you know?” Glip quipped harshly, eyes narrowed on the doll. 

“Oh, no! It’s nothing like that!” Amalia immediately tried to defend herself, shaking her hands in front of her body. 

“Then what is it you’re… requesting?” Baltazar asked again after a pause. 

“I was just wondering, since you intend to review everything for my sake—which you have my sincerest thanks for—, if you could start with the construction of the Zenith?”

The twins’ eyes widened like saucers at her words. And they weren’t the only ones, for the kids had all turned to stare at Amalia, their surprise evident on their faces. Meanwhile, all sorts of alarms went off in Glip’s mind as he readied himself to attack if need be. “How do you know about that?” He questioned, his tone dangerously low. 

Her blush deepened. Her hands clutching at the fabric of her pants nervously, she finally admitted. “Well, the thing is… I just never got to hear the whole story.”

Wait, what?

“What do you mean?” It was Baltazar who asked, his tone as kind as ever, albeit cautious. 

“I’ve been listening to your classes for a while now, and I’ve always been enchanted by the way you retell everything that happened.” She confessed, her voice growing in confidence the more she spoke. Soon, even her gestures and expressions were becoming more animated. “It’s incredible! The way you can just… transport me to another world! It feels like I’m there! Especially when the both of you teach the lesson. It’s just… just… amazing.”

Glip’s eyebrows shot up at that, pleasantly surprised despite himself. That had to be the highest praise they’d received in a while, and to think it came from the Divine Doll… At the thought of her, the Wakfung master shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He couldn’t grow soft now, not after what she’d just said. 

“But why do you want to learn about the Zenith in specific?”

She grew embarrassed again, her fingers fidgeting on her lap. “Because I never got to hear the full story. I know certain things, but not everything.”

“Wait!” This time, the three adults had their attention drawn to the children. It had been Jeré, one of the oldest ones whose bangs covered his eyes, who spoke. “You’ve never heard the full story?” His jaw dropped when all Amalia could do was shake her head. “But it’s so awesome!”

“Do you really don’t know about it?” Another kid, a little girl named Jamille, pressed on, turning around to face the doll properly. 

Amalia smiled kindly at them. “I know some things. Like how Chibi and Grougaloragran are the Eliatropes’ greatest inventors and the only thing they hadn’t been able to master yet was how to go beyond your world─something not even your portals could achieve.”

The first time she heard the story, Amalia’s curiosity had been picked once again by the mention of their world. She still wasn’t fully aware of what they meant by that or why they would be in the World of Twelve if they already had a home of their own, but she chose to keep that bit for later. Right now, she was far too enchanted by the children’s awed grins. 

“Yes, that’s right!” Jeré nodded enthusiastically. “They kept researching for decades, but they just couldn’t get it right!”

“For the longest time, they tried creating a special kind of portal that would lead us away from our world, but that plan failed because our portals can’t work unless we’re close enough to our destination or we at least know it by heart.” A girl with fluffy bangs added. 

“And-and, and no one knowed what was outside of home, so it didn’t work.” Amalia almost died when what looked to be the youngest kid present shily spoke next. He was so cute! With his little wabbit onesie and those puffy cheeks she so desperately wanted to pinch! 

Once her cuteness-induced high was under control, however, their words registered in her mind. Her mouth formed a little ‘o’ shape at the realisation that that had been the reason Yugo hadn’t been able to teleport them directly to the beach when they went out. Now she felt a little bad for snapping at him and Adamaï, but it was a little hard being unfailingly nice after throwing your stomach’s contents on a poor, unsuspecting bush!

She was brought back to the class when another kid continued on with the tale. “In the end, they realised what they needed wasn’t for us to be able to create that kind of portal, but to be able to leave. Period!”

“So they decided to build this huge and super cool machine where we would all fit and we could use to travel around the Krozmos!” Another kid noted. 

Little by little, the rest of the class grew in confidence too. All of them taking turns to tell everything they knew to the Sadida Doll, who hanged onto every word with rapt attention. 

As this was all taking place, Baltazar and Glip could only look on, astonished, their mouths millimetres away from touching the floor. And while the dragon’s shocked expression eventually settled into an extremely pleased smile, Glip had yet to recover. It was simply unbelievable! For some reason, the doll had single-handedly managed to encourage the kids to repeat their lessons aloud, a feat that took considerable effort from him and Baltazar to achieve. And yet, there she was, listening intently as their students bombarded her with information. 

Somehow, it was even more surprising to find out the doll had indeed been paying attention to the lesson whenever it was that she eavesdropped on them. Whenever the children got a fact wrong, if it just so happened she had been able to listen to that particular part of the story, she would kindly correct them in a way that wouldn’t make them feel bad about it. 

Glip… really didn’t know what to think.

Eventually, he was snapped out of his trance by Lori finishing off the story by throwing her hands up in the air triumphantly, her classmates mimicking her actions with matching enthusiasm. In response, the doll simply clapped with a warm smile on her face. 

“Thank you so much, you guys. I’m learning so much already!” She gently rubbed the heads of the two kids closest to her, Lori and a little boy whose name she didn’t know. She couldn’t help but raise an intrigued eyebrow at the way they made sure their hats remained in place even after her caresses. “And it’s plain to see you know your stuff too!”

At the little, playful wink she sent them, the Eliatrope children couldn't help the beaming smiles from forming on their faces, basking in the beautiful doll’s praise. Boy, their king sure was lucky to have such a cool girlfriend!

Chuckling fondly at the scene—and allowing a supremely satisfied smirk to curl at his lips at the sight of his discombobulated brother—, Baltazar cleared his throat to bring everyone’s attention back at him. “Very well, children. Lady Amalia is right; you sure know a lot! Balthazar is very proud of you all. But, as we all know, just like there’s always something new to be learned, it is also good to remember what we already know so we never forget. Which is why Baltazar will be telling you about our people’s origins.”

Despite that being a story they all knew by heart, it was still one of the children’s favourites, so they all eagerly leaned in to better listen to what the dragon had to say. Amalia in particular was awestruck at the revelation. She had been wondering exactly the same thing since practically her birth. She really didn’t know much, just that the Eliatropes descended from the Great Goddess Eliatrope so they clearly didn’t worship any of the gods her father was a member of. But she had no idea how they ever came to be or why their goddess wasn’t a part of the Twelvians’ pantheon. So, much like the children, she leaned in, her head resting on her propped up arms, ready to learn. 

Normally, Glip would have argued sharing that particular story around the Divine Doll would have been foolish, as it would have compromised some very delicate information regarding their people. But when he and Baltazar had been prepping the lesson before class, the two twins actually discussed the subject at length. While the Eliatrope had been firmly against it at first, his dragon brother eventually managed to convince him by raising the very valid point that Amalia had been born in Inglorium, surrounded by this world’s gods. She was most likely already aware of their origin! So he acquiesced and relented, allowing Baltazar to do as he pleased. 

If anything, maybe hearing their version of the story would be enough to convince the doll not to sell them out to her nature-loving father and his friends. It was unlikely, but for once Glip dared to hope. 

“Long, long ago,” Baltazar began, his incredibly talented storyteller voice enrapturing his students with just a few words. “There was nothing. Everything was darkness. Things such as planets, the concept of time, or the very Krozmos itself didn’t exist. In fact, the only things that did exist were two very different essences: wakfu, the source of all life; and stasis, the energy of destruction. 

“Two divine beings represented these energies; the Great Goddess Eliatrope was the source of all wakfu, whereas the Great Dragon was the source of all stasis. These two opposite forces, being the only living creatures in the whole wide universe, fell in love. Guided by their feelings, they were joined in a dance from which the Krozmos was born, and with it, life could thrive before parting from the material world, thus continuing the two lovers’ dance—existence became a balance between life and death.”

Amalia found herself completely captivated by the dragon’s tale. She remembered her father briefly mentioning the existence of stasis and how it was opposite from wakfu, which was crucial for the survival of their people, even if he didn’t have the time to dwell much on that; but she was sure he had never mentioned the Great Dragon, let alone how the Krozmos came to be thanks to him and the Eliatrope Goddess. She brought her legs close to her chest, looking forward to knowing what happened next. 

As he retold the events that took place aeons ago, Baltazar paced around the room at a leisurely stride. His little wings fluttered in delight at the sight of his fascinated class, even Amalia looked positively enchanted by his tale. And the way even the most unruly kids had yet to misbehave, sneaking discreet glances the doll’s way, made him appreciate having her in his class. 

Apparently, she was a good influence on the kids. 

“But that is not all that they did.” He shook his head, as if the mere idea was ludicrous. “Shortly after they created the Krozmos, the two lovers found each other once more. Much like the first time, they were joined in a dance, only this time they created life on a considerably smaller, but not any less magnificent scale.” Abruptly, he stopped pacing. He sat down on the floor as he regarded the children all seriously, before a small smirk graced his features. “Tell me, children, what did they create this time?”

The response was immediate. All students present but Amalia—who could only look around in surprise—exclaimed in perfect unison, “They created the six Dofus Eliatropes!”

“That’s right.” Baltazar chuckled, satisfied. “And from each Dofus a set of twins was born. Each of them were granted a special gift they were meant to use for the sake of the people they would lead. Hence, the Council of Six, composed of the Primordial Eliatropes and their dragon siblings was born!”

Amalia’s surprised gasp was drowned out by the sound of the children cheering and applauding, clearly delighted with the story. But as the kids celebrated and Baltazar went on about how it was their duty as their leaders to look out for their people in each reincarnation—wait, so they were that kind of demigods, too?! But the only demigods she knew could reincarnate were Ecaflip’s children, and even they only had nine lives… She would have to store that information away for later, lest her head would explode—, Amalia’s brain clocked in on what he’d said about him and his siblings. 

Being a demigoddess herself, Amalia was aware of the fact that her divine parentage made her special, moreover, many would agree her case in specific made her even more exceptional. After all, unlike the other gods, who needed to mate with mortal partners to bear offspring, she and her sisters had been conceived single-handedly by Sadida himself. The Leafy God had created them out of practically nothing, using a fragment of his supreme power to bring each and everyone of his daughters to life. Therefore, by virtue of not possessing mortal blood, they were almost as godly as any other deity, hence why they were allowed in Inglorium.

At least, that was what her father and sisters told her. 

And yet, Yugo and his siblings and their origins managed to be even more staggering. Whereas Sadida’s Dolls had been created by the god of nature’s sole intervention, the Eliatropes had been born from the union of their patron goddess and the Great Dragon. They were descended from two gods! 

Wait, if that was the case, could they even be considered demigods? She wondered idly. 

Even as Amalia struggled trying to understand what it all meant, a wayward thought materialised in her brain, effectively taking her mind off such matters as she made a vital connection. That at least explained how it was possible that each set of twins hatching from their respective Dofus comprised an Eliatrope child and a dragon. 

A part of the doll was rather relieved to be able to put that mystery to rest. 

Before she could dwell on the matter any longer, however, the sound of Glip stomping his cane against the floor drew everyone’s attention back to him. “Well, that concludes today’s history lesson, children. Thank Master Baltazar for everything and go over the training grounds. Today’s training session is going to be intense.”

...................................................................................................................

Though confused at first by the Eliatrope teacher’s instructions, much like she’d done at the beginning of Baltazar’s lesson, Amalia decided to follow the children’s lead. Letting herself be dragged by Lori as she and the other kids resumed their questioning of her—and struggling slightly to keep up—, the green-haired beauty stood slack-jawed upon being led to the training grounds. 

Suddenly all that equipment and safety nets she’d seen when she entered the classroom made a lot more sense. 

Her awe only grew as Glip instructed the kids on what they’d be doing that day and divided them in groups, pointing at the areas each group would train at with his cane right before telling the children to disperse. As she remained where she was, glued to her spot, the doll’s big brown eyes kept darting back and forth between the little ones. Some of them were trying to execute a complicated set of movements, their efforts focused on combining traditional hand-to-hand combat with the use of their wakfu. Another group consisting of the youngsters were trying to conjure up portals, their little hands glowing blue but not achieving much else. And finally, the group little Lori belonged to was up high in the ceiling, using their portals to move from one place to another and landing safely on the net hanging over her head whenever they failed. If she had to guess, Amalia would say these groups were actually skill levels, going from beginners, intermediate level, and advanced level. 

She met Lori’s shy wave from up above with one of her own and smiled kindly up at her. Even so, despite how interesting this all was, Amalia couldn’t help but feel a little out of place just standing there with nothing to do. 

Looking to her side, she found Glip watching his students with a careful eye, his gaze never leaving them. Despite being a huge grump and more than a little condescending, Amalia had to admit he was at least a caring and responsible teacher. Even if that aspect of his personality was directed at anyone but her. 

Mustering up all her courage by taking one deep breath, the Divine Doll made her way over to him, careful not to ruin his concentration as he kept an eye on the children. Every now and then he would yell some kind of instruction or piece of advice for them to follow, and Amalia was proud to say she only flinched slightly each time that startled her. 

Hiding her hands behind her back as a clear sign of her nervousness, she tried to say, “Um…Master Glip?”

He didn’t even look at her, just grunted, “What is it?”

“Uh, well, I was just wondering… Is this supposed to be Wakfung?” She gestured at the training session taking place. 

Even though he had yet to look her way, Glip was starting to regret not sending the doll away when his part of the lesson started and he had the chance. Ironically, he had been so distracted keeping an eye on her and the chaos her presence could ensue, he had forgotten all about her by the time it was his turn to take the reins. Well, thankfully, it wasn’t like she’d be able to gather much intel from watching the kids’ training session. Neither of them were ready yet to try out for becoming guards-in-training, which meant their technique had yet to be fully polished. She would not be able to do much harm with non-perfected moves. 

That didn’t mean he shouldn’t be careful, however. “You could say that, yes.” At first, his voice remained impassive, until he grew impatient. “What about it?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” She trailed off, almost too afraid to ask. 

“Well…?” The Eliatrope urged her, still not looking at her. 

“I suppose I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” She finally admitted. 

“What you’re supposed to do? Whatever does that mean?”

Amalia shrugged. “I don’t know, I mean, aren’t I here to learn? I’m not really sure what to do when my magic doesn’t work like yours.” As she said that, her eyes trailed back up to Lori. She had noticed how she hadn’t been as eager to jump through portals like her classmates, and she couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy at the sight. “Is there a way I can learn Wakfung without… you know… being an Eliatrope?”

That made him look back at her in surprise, his eyes wide like saucers. However, that was nothing compared to the shiver that ran down her spine when he began to laugh, the sound effectively causing most children to stop doing their respective activities to watch the scene. Even Baltazar looked down at his twin in surprise right before exchanging slightly alarmed glances with Amalia. 

After what felt like an awkwardly long amount of time, Glip finally quieted down. Wiping a tear off his eye, he simply said, “No, there is not.” And then he turned back around to stare at the children, his abrupt demeanour immediately making them return to training. 

For a while, all Amalia could do was blink, speechless. It took her a bit before she finally regained the ability to speak, “W-what do you mean? Are you sure?”

“Oh, I’m positive. You see, there is no Wakfung without wakfu.”

“But I have wakfu.” She insisted, her brow furrowed at his refusal. “See?” She extended her palms facing the ceiling, a faint green light enveloping her hands as she called forth her father’s divine gift without actually manifesting it. 

“You have Sadida magic, not Eliatrope magic.” Glip pointed out without missing a beat. “Sure, you might be able to make flowers grow and to sprout some vines, but you are incapable of creating portals or wielding wakfu in its purest form. Therefore, I don’t see the point in teaching you.” 

“Glip!” Baltazar exclaimed, scandalised at his twin’s callousness. He knew better than anyone that his brother tended to be blunt and was never one to sugarcoat things, but to think he’d be this disrespectful towards Lady Amalia! It was imperative he defused the situation. “Please, forgive Baltazar’s brother, my Lady. He did not mean to be so rude, it is simply that we do not know how to adapt ourselves to your unique abilities.”

Seeing as Baltazar’s words made perfect sense, Amalia was about to reassure the beige dragon everything was alright when Glip cut in, although his words felt like they were actually cutting through her. 

“Oh, don’t grovel like that, Baltazar! Have some dignity!” Glip loudly complained, swirling around to face his brother with a reproachful look. “She isn’t one of us, and she will never be, no matter how much she tries to integrate herself with us by learning our culture or our history! She is not an Eliatrope and therefore it would be extremely foolish to teach her Wakfung, and you know this!”

Even if Amalia already felt like she’d been slapped by his harsh words, she couldn’t help but gasp when the shortest Eliatrope settled the full fire of his fury on her, making her curl around herself subconsciously in fear. “There is simply no way I will ever make it easier for an outsider to hurt my people.” 

His words were dripping with venom and Amalia ingested every single drop. Her heart fell to her stomach, and she could feel the tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. What was worse, even in her numb state, she could discern how the entire room had grown eerily quiet, the children’s attention drawn to them by the commotion.

Was it true? Didn’t the Eliatrope trust her? Was that the reason for Glip and Efrim’s animosity, for the servants' cordial yet distant treatment of her? Deep down, she knew they certainly hadn’t been expecting her, that was something she became aware of as soon as she arrived at Oma Island, but to think they would actually hold such vitriol for her… Even as she stood there, frozen in shock as Baltazar flashed a seething glare his brother’s way while the latter refused to even meet his eye, the Sadida Doll couldn’t help but wrack her brain for answers. Tried as she might, she just couldn’t come up with anything in specific she might have done to earn their scorn. As she kept on searching, a chilling thought assaulted her. 

Was that the reason why Yugo…?

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a bloodcurdling sound; a shrill, frightened scream. 

“Lori!” One of the children shrieked, pointing up at her. 

With a gasp, her heart pounding in her chest, Amalia swivelled her head to the origin of the scream. Her eyes widened in alarm at the sight of Lori’s portal malfunctioning at the last second and her falling. Normally, the little girl should have been perfectly fine, the safety net underneath her breaking her fall and preventing any disasters, but the doll couldn’t help but bring a hand to her mouth as Lori collided against the area where she’d noticed before the trope was worn out. As the kid collided against it, she sent a quick prayer to Sadida, begging him for the net to hold on, but alas, no such luck. 

The ropes gave in under Lori’s weight, sending the little girl plummeting to the ground. 

Overcome by a protective instinct she didn’t know she possessed, so overwhelmed by the surge of power coursing through her veins she only vaguely registered a flash of blue light from the corner of her eye, Amalia didn’t hesitate to act. Thinking fast, she threw her arm out, her palm outstretched, a portion of the floor in front of her—she sent a quick thank you to her father for their classroom being at ground level— glowing green for a split-second before a large vine shot forth and towards the terrified child. 

At staggering speed, the thick plant reached just below Lori, softening her fall. Then, as soon as she made contact with it, the vine twisted and turned, creating spirals that acted as a slide and safely deposited Lori on the ground under everyone’s astonished and relieved gazes. 

As soon as Lori’s feet made contact with the ground, she broke down crying. Seeing Amalia’s open arms, she threw herself at the Divine Doll, clutching onto her like a lifeline. “I-I-I…” She hiccuped at first, before it all became too much and she eventually wailed, “I was so scared!”

As she held the crying girl in her arms, Amalia made soothing noises in an attempt to calm her down. “There, there. It’s okay, Lori. You’re safe now. You’re safe now.”

While Amalia was busy trying to console the poor kid, her classmates surrounding the two and dissolving into both praises for the doll and words of encouragement for Lori, the two teachers watched the scene. In Glip’s case, who had been about to reach the girl before Amalia’s vine went ahead, his expression reflected the many mixed feelings going on in his mind. 

By his side, Baltazar sighed. “Baltazar understands we must be careful not to underestimate her and what she’s capable of, but he believes in doing so we are also doing just that.”

“What do you mean?” Glip asked, his voice as small as his height, for once. 

“You believe her undeserving of trust, and yet, she did not hesitate to save Lori. A truly heinous creature with no concern for anyone but their own would not do such a thing.” Then, he gestured to the crowd of children surrounding the crying girl and the doll with his tail. “Children are unexpectedly good at telling who is worthy of trust and who isn’t. And our little ones have been enchanted by her from the moment she walked through the door.”

Looking back and forth between his brother and the doll, Glip found himself at a loss. His voice was almost desperate when he begged the dragon for answers. “Baltazar, you’ve been much more willing to trust her than me since the beginning, but… why? What do you see in her that makes her worthy in your eyes?”

In response, Baltazar simply smiled kindly, the corner of his eyes wrinkling at the action. “Baltazar is a dragon.” He replied simply. “Much like you told him Adamaï did, Baltazar stared into her wakfu.” Leaning closer to the Eliatrope, he placed his tail on his shoulder. “Baltazar cannot speak for the twelve gods and their true intentions, but Lady Amalia holds no ill intent in her heart. She is far too pure for that.”

And with that, the dragon went over to join his class in looking after Lori to make sure the little one was okay, leaving the Wakfung master alone with his thoughts. 

.......................................................................................................................

After that scare, the two teachers thought it best to dismiss the class early. There would be no katas that day, after all. Everyone, especially Lori, was far too rattled by the events to continue as if nothing had happened. Since it was still a little too early for the kids’ parents to pick them up, they remained inside the classroom as they often did whenever class ended sooner than expected. However, while they would normally be playing around until it was time to go, this time the children remained huddled around Amalia as she gently and soothingly caressed a still recovering Lori, who remained glued to the doll’s front, hugging her tightly like her life depended on it. They spent the rest of the time like that, with the children talking to Amalia and hanging onto her every word like she had just lowered the moon for them. 

Finally, it was time to say goodbye for the day when the kids’ parents arrived. While they had all been understandably surprised at the sight of the Divine Doll surrounded by their children—and a few parents had had to not-so-subtly nudge their partners to react when they stared, or more like ogled, at the forest beauty for a tad too long—, it was nothing compared to their reactions upon learning what had happened. 

Lori’s parents in particular spent a good time thanking a slightly overwhelmed Amalia profusely for saving their daughter as soon as the latter was done with her retelling, having wasted no time in informing her parents of her little brush with death and the super cool plant Lady Amalia had used to rescue her just in time. 

Once every kid had left the room with their parents, waving Amalia goodbye—a gesture she returned wholeheartedly—, she was about to leave as well when Baltazar’s voice stopped her in her tracks. 

“Lady Amalia. A word, please?”

“Of course, Master Baltazar. Is anything the matter?”

“Not at all, my Lady. In fact, it is Baltazar’s brother who wishes to speak with you.” Right after he said that, he nudged his Eliatrope twin forward, and Amalia immediately braced herself for the worst. 

“In light of recent events…” The Eliatrope began uneasily. After a pregnant pause, trying in vain to organise his thoughts, Glip finally gave in with a sigh. “I have come to realise I’ve been unfair to you. I judged you far too quickly and treated you according to my prejudices rather than who you really are. And for that, I’d like to offer my sincerest apologies, my Lady.” 

Genuine shame coloured Glip’s features even as he bowed down deeply in front of the Sadida Doll, who could only blink, taken aback. However, soon enough, her confusion gave way to a warm smile, touched by the gesture. 

“I gladly accept your apologies, Master Glip.” She told him, bringing a hand to her chest. “Please, accept mine as well. I’m aware my actions might have offended you, even if it was the furthest thing from my intention.”

“Think nothing of it.” He nodded. Then, he cleared his throat and he held his cane a little bit tighter for (moral) support. “Um, I… Well.” He coughed. “Even if I have yet to decide whether it’d be possible to teach you Wakfung, given your Sadida nature, seeing as you have shown genuine interest in our people’s way, we…” Another pause, this time punctuated by deliverance. “I would be honoured to see you in class from now on, Lady Amalia.”

If it was even possible, Amalia’s smile only stretched wider. “The honour would be all mine, Master Glip.”

And as everyone made it back to their respective homes after such a hectic day, there was one topic that kept being discussed at the Eliatrope children’s tables during dinner. They couldn’t wait until King Yugo took Lady Amalia as his queen.

#wakfu #wakfu fanfiction #wakfu au #my fanfiction #the doll and the dragon #divine doll! au #sadida doll! au #yugo the eliatrope #amalia sheran sharm #yumalia #glip #baltazar #adamaï #efrim #phaeris #wakfu phaeris #qilby #nora #mina #shinonomé #eliatropes #council of six #ankama #dofus #krozmos

[galaxywhump]

Whumpee whispering "I want to go home".

#whump #whump tropes #tropes #whump dialogue #idk man give me the complete vulnerability #they're just so tired of fighting and suffering #they want it to end and they want to go back to whatever life they'd had had before all that #bonus points if it's a defiant or stoic whumpee #their facade crumbles for a moment #they go back to how they used to act but they still had this undeniable moment of vulnerability #i just love it

[sttoru]

your boyfriend sleeps on the couch after an argument you both had earlier that day. after calming your nerves and taking time for yourself, you realise that you might have been a bit too harsh on him.

☀︎｜tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff / angst / hurt + comfort. age gap (reader early 20’s & satoru early 30’s). nicknames used; ‘(little) baby’. he’s honestly just the perfect combination of gentle and teasing. subtle mentions of size difference.

satoru shifts on the couch whilst letting out an inaudible yawn. he was tired after an entire day at work and finally had the chance to settle down in the comfort of his apartment.

though, he couldn’t really relax just yet. the reason why being the undeniable tension hanging in the air. he was in fact home, but it didn’t feel like it. not when you were missing.

you had holed yourself up in the master bedroom after an earlier argument the two of you had. it wasn’t a big fight — just a little squabble between lovers. satoru didn’t rush after you when you had decided to walk away midst argument. you clearly weren’t in the right headspace to properly articulate nor communicate your feelings.

he figured that you just needed some time alone and thus decided to leave you be. he didn’t want to risk losing you by annoying you any further.

satoru scrolls on his phone out of boredom. the light radiating off the screen starts to bother his already sensitive eyes. with a sigh, he shuts off the device and puts it down on the coffee table.

it was dead silent in the apartment that was usually filled with your lively chatter. the sorcerer wants nothing more than to cuddle up with you under the covers and fall asleep. but, you needed space and he wasn’t going to disturb you.

he drapes an arm over his eyes and pulls the thin blanket over his chest. his breaths were steady and his thoughts were surprisingly calm. satoru almost drifts off to sleep, however his body lightly jolts awake once he hears the creaking of a door.

careful footsteps echo throughout the hallway and stop right at the doorstep of the living room.

satoru moves his arm to the side so his vision wouldn’t be obstructed. his eyes land on the figure standing at the doorframe — one he could recognise instantly.

it was you, standing there with your head held low and your fingers curled around the hem of your nightgown. you didn’t take another step forwards and just lingered in your spot for a few seconds without saying anything.

“hey, baby.” satoru breaks the silence. his voice was as soft as it could be, not an ounce of annoyance or frustration in it. even if he had all the reason to be upset according to you.

you remember just how childish you acted earlier; you had lost all rationality, shouted at your boyfriend out of frustration and ran off mid sentence instead of properly addressing the issue at hand. the way you handled that situation was wrong and immature.

in contrast to your immature behaviour, satoru had stayed calm and collected throughout the entirety of your argument. he hadn’t raised his voice at you even once nor did he blame you for anything. you felt bad for acting like a bratty kid who didn’t get her way.

you eventually move towards the couch, still not making eye contact with your boyfriend. he sits up and simply watches you with a raised eyebrow—curious as to what you were about to do.

you knew you had to apologise for your behaviour, but what you needed first was his validation. you wordlessly climb onto the couch and under the blanket satoru was using.

your arms wrap around his torso and you hug him tightly to your body, face buried in his shirt to cover your embarrassed and remorseful expression.

satoru’s eyes widen a bit at the sudden show of affection, though he wasn’t complaining. he reciprocates the gesture and nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head.

“my little baby.” he chuckles, hands rubbing your back in attempt to reassure you that everything was and will be fine, “i’m happy you decided to come back to me — thank you.”

again. that tender tone satoru uses only with you and for you. the guilt from earlier hits you like a truck and your eyes well up with tears before you could stop the process.

“sorry,” your voice cracks once you finally muster out an apology. the warmth engulfing your cold body was enough to make you sob in his comforting embrace. satoru sighs and closes his eyes. he rests his chin on top of your head whilst holding you like his life depended on it.

no words were exchanged between you two for a good minute. satoru silently encourages you to cry it out and so you do. after calming down, you sniffle and pull your head away from his chest. your eyes were watery and a bit red.

the pad of his thumb sweeps the stray tears away from your cheeks, his touch precise and careful. he smiles softly at the sight of his teary-eyed girlfriend. you were so adorable and precious to him. even when you looked like a mess — a pretty mess.

“i just..” you start off, small hiccups interrupting your sentence, “i wanted to apologise for acting so childish. i shouldn’t have said nor did any of those hurtful things. i apologise for that as well.”

your lover nods along to your words. he hums in delight and kisses your forehead, his lips lingering there for longer than intended, “don’t worry, baby. i understand. thank you for apologising, though.”

you mutter a small ‘of course’ in-between sniffles. that was all the reassurance you had needed to hear from your boyfriend. though, you still felt bad and the guilt of your immature actions seemed to linger in the back of your mind.

you lay your head back on satoru’s chest and listen to his heartbeat — hoping that the constant sound would drown out any other thoughts. your lover lays on his back and pulls you down on top of him. his hands rub your sides, slender fingers toying with the silky material of your nightgown.

“i’m sorry for being immature sometimes. i’m sure it must be troubling to deal with.” you whisper as you enjoy the feeling of being back in satoru’s arms.

he grins and shakes his head in response. he loves every side of yours — even your immature one. if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be here right now. he truly loves all of you.

the older man places another soft kiss on top of your head and closes his eyes afterwards, “heh, i’d be lying if i said that you trying to act all tough earlier wasn’t cute.”

satoru snickers at the memory. he remembers how you pointed that little finger of yours in front of his face and how you tried to subtly stand on the tips of your toes so you could look him in the eyes properly. your attempts at looking intimidating were quite endearing.

it’s not like he was invalidating your feelings with that comment — he was genuinely trying to lighten your mood. and it wasn’t like it didn’t work.

“whatever.” you huff, playfully swatting his biceps and gaining an over exaggerated ‘ow!’ in response. you’re glad that things have gone back to normal between you two. if the situation had continued for any longer, you’d have lost your mind.

you aren’t the only one who is extremely relieved. satoru is beaming with joy because he gets to hold and talk to you again. that small period of silence between the both of you felt like an eternity to him.

no matter how many times you have those little arguments, satoru will still love you all the same.

#sttoru writes. #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #gojo x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jjk angst

[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (10)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 

tags/warnings. depression, intoxication, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships,

notes. important announcement ! as you all know, this series has always had an extensive approach into detailing the events in its side stories (ie. sera x sukuna x naoya, yuuji x megumi, maki x yuuta x miwa, etc), but while writing the chapters, the word count and the plot building had become too exhausting for me to produce consistently, esp with the amount of scenes and side stories i was introducing to the story, so i've decided it's best for me to stick to the main characters, reader & gojo, and will only add side stories as necessary. this really hurts me knowing that i can't achieve the level of comprehensive writing and world building that i did for sincerely not, but i really want to finish sy as soon as possible and removing a chunk of side stories would be some of the things that'd help me achieve that 😭 i hope you guys understand. hopefully i'll figure out a way to write those side stories instead of completely abandoning them mid-way in this series. but as always, thanks for ur continued support <3

series masterlist -> episode eleven

“It’s a little weird.”

What was supposed to be her bed time had turned into a moment of reflection for Sera who, instead of being fast asleep at this time of the night, had unconsciously brought herself inside Sukuna’s home office to join the up-and-coming tech mogul in his late-night programming. 

She wore her silk pajamas, pacing back and forth in her boyfriend’s office as her mind flew back to the recent encounter she had with her ex-boyfriend. Who knew that Satoru’s kid would look just like a carbon copy of him? No, actually, the question should be: who knew it would be a different woman by his side acting as the mother of his child? Sera had to laugh at herself, shaking her head as she realized how truly and undeniably ridiculous her ex was. It was clear that day that he wasn’t really as loyal of a partner as he claimed himself to be. 

Did he really just go through all those crazy things with you, only to look like a whore-hopping fool now? 

If he was bound to end up with someone else other than you, then why did he have to make Sera’s life miserable in the first place? 

She may have done terrible things before as a selfish and materialistic lover of his, but that wouldn’t change the fact that Satoru also contributed to her role as the side-piece in his marital relationship. He allowed her to cling to him like a mistress. Being his side-piece wasn’t even something that she had forced upon him. It was his promise, an idea that he planted on Sera’s head, saying that she would need to stay by his side and that he would marry her guaranteed that he had already secured the merger and divorced you. He swore like a fool that he would divorce you. But guess what? The jerk ended up falling in love with his wife and suddenly had no use of Sera. Suddenly, he was such a good husband who couldn’t be more loyal. Suddenly, he was a lovestruck man who had always been in love with his childhood friend. If he had downright dumped Sera the moment his engagement was announced, if he had not been prideful and ambitious since the beginning of his marriage, he probably would have had better luck at having that healthy relationship he yearned from you. 

But how come the blame of being the third-party was all on Sera when her only mistake then was loving the person who promised her all the good things in life? 

Now, you see, this was all just bitterness brewing at the back of her head. She knew what she did was still wrong and that she wasn’t innocent. Sera swore to herself that she would never look back on those awful days ever again, but seeing how Satoru was running around freely with a different woman just reminded Sera of his days as a spiteful, two-timing man. Somehow, it felt like he had changed and yet didn’t at all. 

Ha ha ha. How ridiculous was that? 

“What’s funny?” asked Sukuna, her present boyfriend and thankfully so. He was Sera’s blessing, because she never would have thought that a man like him could still exist in a world full of Satoru’s and Naoya’s. “You look cute smiling to yourself, though.”

“I know,” she responded to the compliment, shifting to settle herself on his lap, though his attention remained fixed on his laptop screen. “It's just strange to me,” she continued, her voice thoughtful, “how Gojou appears his usual self, yet there's something off about him.”

The question clouded Sukuna’s eyes in confusion, tilting his head to the side as he tried to comprehend her description. “You mean dude got uglier?”

I wish, Sera thought. “No, he’s… he’s different. The vibes are different. For a second, he even looked like he was dissociating the whole time he was with that girl,” she said, referring to Satoru’s new girl as though she was your cheap alternative, “But then again, why is he with her in the first place if he looks absent-minded the whole time, you know what I mean?” 

“Was he like that with you before?” 

“At times, but it’s not like the way he’s acting right now… I don’t know, I can’t explain it. The energy is off. That’s just not how he acts when he’s really, really into someone.”

To be honest, Sukuna didn’t give a damn about Satoru Gojou’s life and any normal boyfriend wouldn’t really like hearing their girlfriend talking about another man, especially her ex at that, but he knew Sera found joy in old money gossip and he was aware of the demoralizing past she has had by associating herself with them. Sukuna was acting all engaged in their conversation because he wanted to make her feel heard and that he shared her simple joys in life. Besides, it was through her that he learned so many inside scoops about the people that ran the country’s biggest conglomerates. It was like watching one heck of a messy episode of Dynasty. 

“Didn’t he get into a car accident?” he recalled, remembering the headlines on the news that day, “Then, we saw him at the expo and he couldn’t really remember you. The guy’s probably got his head all messed up.” 

Sera was bitter at the time thinking that Satoru was toying with her when he asked who she was, when the truth was, he was actually diagnosed with amnesia. It was such a shock to her, truthfully, because having amnesia felt like something you would only see on a movie’s screen. Well, in that case, she could also say karma’s a bitch. The director might be onto something here.

“He’s probably not mentally fine, but still…” she thought carefully and played the scene in her head again. What was it about the Gojou that she saw the other day that was different? “He just has a different vibe to him that it feels uncomfortable. It’s like he’s rude, but not so rude? He doesn’t have much of a personality anymore. Like a complete stranger.”

“Maybe it’s the new girl rubbing off on him.” Sukuna was back to typing on his laptop as he said that. Frankly, he was just saying anything at this point. 

Sera shook her head in response. “Well, I don’t know about that girl he��s seeing and I don’t really care, but it’s common knowledge to the filthy rich that she’s Y/N’s best friend. That’s why I recognized her right away, and that’s why it disgusted me,” she pressed on, “Tell me, would you—and be honest about this—would you fuck your best friend’s ex?” 

The humor on her boyfriend’s face came right as she asked that. “Babe, you fucked a married man. It’s worse than fucking somebody’s ex.” 

“Shut up.” Rolling her eyes, she got up from his lap and sighed, but Sukuna wasted no time in pulling her back onto his lap. His chuckle was mingling with the gentle kiss he had planted on her cheek, unaware that his actions made Sera’s heart flutter. “Forget it. I shouldn’t even be talking about Satoru with you.”

The man stretched his arms and finally closed his laptop, patting Sera’s thigh afterwards. “On that note, I do have another ‘dude from your past’ that I gotta meet tomorrow.” 

Her reaction alone was a response for him. “Naoya?” she protested, face contorting with disgust. “What for? I told you not to take on that project.”

“Yeah, I considered it, and you know, the partnership could really benefit CleaveTech,” Sukuna reasoned, leaning back as he outlined the situation to her from a business standpoint. Given her own background working for the Gojou Group before, he expected her to grasp the significance of this partnership and set aside any personal grievances or emotional attachments. “The Zen'in Group is a major client. It’s all pros and no cons here.”

“The contra is the guy you’re gonna work with,” she highlighted with a hint of annoyance rising from her throat, “Naoya is nothing but an opportunistic motherfucker. Mind you, he’s a stupid elitist, too.” 

He held back a laugh, not even threatened by a man who had a terrible history with his girlfriend. “Nah, I’ll deal with him. Just trust me on this.” 

As much as Sera wanted to object, she knew Sukuna had a point and that she really shouldn’t hinder his company from being partnered with such a large conglomerate. She just didn’t like the thought of her boyfriend being around a man who manipulated and humiliated her to the point where she had been blacklisted by multiple companies, leaving her to resort to being somewhat of a prostitute just to make ends meet. 

The world was harsh for the not-so-rich, and all Sera wanted was to give those upper class people a taste of their own medicine. But seeing as her desire for revenge would clash with her boyfriend’s chance at company growth, she had to set aside her personal grudge and support him on this one.  

Still, there was nothing wrong with being curious. “Is there any other reason you agreed to this partnership?”

Sukuna smirked as if he expected that question from her. “Blame it on my little brother, he’s been bugging me ‘bout it.”

“Yuuji?” Sera asked, clearly confused. 

To which her boyfriend quickly answered, “Yeah. He said it’ll give him an opportunity to work with his best friend. You know that kid, Fushiguro, right?” 

Ahh. Toji’s kid aka the heir to the Zen’in business empire. Sera had met Megumi before, and while that other brat Mai used to be unreasonably rude to her, the younger boy was always civil and respectful at least. He never even once treated Sera like dirt when she was spending time with Naoya at their mansion. Perhaps their upbringing really differed because he was raised by Toji and the other Zen’ins were raised by demons. 

Nevertheless, with a connection now established between Sukuna and Naoya through Yuuji and Megumi, Sera couldn’t help but feel that her peaceful days as a nouveau riche were about to become far more intriguing. Depending on the cards she would choose to play, they could even turn into a living nightmare. 

— —

You weren’t exactly abandoning your company; you were merely taking a break, a necessary pause given your current mental state after the whole break-up with Toji and the Osaka thing. Your mind was just too overwhelmingly occupied to even properly function. Each day, mustering the energy to show up at Hearte's head office became increasingly challenging, especially when faced with individuals who relied on you for major decisions and creative direction. 

To make matters worse, Akemi’s sudden resignation hit hard.

You received her decision by a simple letter, a mere piece of paper, without even having the guts and decency to meet with you in person. Was she scared? Or was this her way of rubbing salt on the wound, shoving it in your face that she was now taking things to the next level with your ex-husband? 

She did cite in her resignation letter that her reason for resigning from the role was due to conflict of interest. You wanted to laugh when you read that part. No, you wanted to choke in your fit of laughter after reading through her asinine reasons. She could have been upfront and mentioned that the so-called ‘conflict’ was the very man her best friend had previously married. 

Obviously, everyone in the office felt sad knowing that a core member of the company left without at least a 30-day notice, but they were all also aware that her resignation was due to personal albeit controversial reasons. Did Akemi not care about her image at all? The same colleagues she had trained, managed, and collaborated with would now likely gossip about her behind her back. She would become a hot topic of disrespect among the people that once heavily respected her. Did she also not care about the company you two created together anymore? This was the same company you two had passionately dreamed of during your late-night conversations on a New York rooftop. She was the one who wanted to build a fashion house together with you.

Yet, it seemed she was willing to throw it all away for a man already entangled in complicated familial dynamics. Her immediate resignation and refusal to speak to you in person just further confirmed it to you that Akemi was willing to forsake your friendship by choosing a man who already had a child with someone else. 

Since she chose that path, you couldn’t help but interpret Akemi’s actions as a deliberate slight against your friendship. It seemed clear that she no longer viewed you as a friend and was essentially cutting ties with you. Otherwise, why would she take such a step? Akemi wasn’t the type to be vindictive; she likely believed she was sparing you further pain by severing your connection. However, regardless of her intentions, her actions felt deeply disrespectful and hurtful.

If this was what she wanted, then kudos to her and her unbelievable confidence to choose a man like Satoru Gojou. Besides, it didn’t even take you a week to find another replacement. Your family connections were powerful after all. You readily had a pool of potential candidates for the role of the Head of Sales, Retail, and Merchandising—all from prestigious backgrounds and unparalleled expertise. While the competition was tough, you selected the person you deemed was the most qualified to be your second-in-command. This was someone you had esteemed since college, a person who excelled in both business acumen and creative vision.

Yuki Tsukumo. She was influential in every sense, and you trusted that she would be able to manage the high pressure environment of a start-up fashion house and transform it into an iconic brand, a household name that would one day rival Chanel and Miu Miu. 

You may have succeeded in replacing Akemi. You may have shown her that her position in the workforce was easily replaceable, but her role as your friend still left a lingering, repugnant mark that proved far more difficult to erase. This underlying sentiment could explain the unreasonable anger festering in your heart—a visceral reaction born from feelings of backstabbing betrayal. 

It was hard enough for you to travel all the way to Osaka with a broken heart, but it became much more agonizing to watch your own son run up to Akemi like she was his mother. It was a goddamn slap to your face, indeed, to see that your ex-husband had already chosen a woman to have his happy, little family with. That he wanted to be a good man and be everything you wished for in a husband for her. 

As they say, nothing hurts more than building a man for another woman. 

And honestly? You cried so much on the way home that you became numb. Now, you were just trying to get over it. You were trying to bury the searing pain in order to forget the betrayal you felt. It was all too much for a person to handle and it wasn’t like you hadn’t gone through the same old shit before. Wasn’t it worse before with Satoru actually cheating and all? He technically wasn’t crossing any lines here, so it shouldn’t hurt you. It shouldn’t. You had been here before. If you had managed to get through such an awful time as his previous wife, his relationship with Akemi shouldn’t be too hard to accept. No, you weren’t trying to lowball your pain, but it was better to be an optimist in this situation than be a suicidal, self-destructive person. You had a business to run and a child to raise. You had to be strong. 

Or at least, that was what you told yourself. That was what you had been telling yourself over and over, each time you got up from bed forcing yourself to have a false positive mindset. In fact, that was also why you had to take this extended break because you had to have your peace of mind. You had to have some form of release to remember why you needed to stay alive and keep yourself going.

Not just for Sachiro’s sake, but also for your own. 

Your safe haven for now was at the horse ranch, where the tranquility of riding and the beauty of nature provided the perfect ambiance for reflection. How long has it been since your last visit to Willow? Your father had been joking that you shouldn’t be leaving a beautiful, white Friesian horse unattended for years, especially not for the expensive price he paid her for. True enough, because the moment you saw the mare again, you almost forgot how majestic she was for her breed. Willow was a completely docile and graceful horse, so alike to you in many ways. However, one thing that was unlike you, was that she lived in peace, existing solely for herself and not for anyone else.

If only you could be like her. 

As you reached out to stroke your rare-breed horse, a new and unfamiliar stallion in the stable caught your eye. To think of it, your family shared this equestrian estate with the Gojou family. This realization meant that the strikingly elegant and tall gray horse in the adjacent stall belonged to none other than Satoru.

“It’s a Thoroughbred,” the equine caretaker informed while guiding your horse out of the stable, “Mr. Satoru got him recently and named him Six.” 

A gray Thoroughbred, renowned as the most expensive horse breeds out there. It could fetch a price as high as $70 million, and of course, Satoru was the perfect owner for such a prestigious horse. The stallion embodied his essence completely—its color, its build, its rarity. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but find his naming convention by number a bit odd. His previous black stallion was named Eight. This time around, it was Six. Couldn’t he be more imaginative?

“He’s beautiful,” you mumbled, nonetheless, in awe with the regality of the horse. 

“He’s a good boy, too,” added the enthusiastic horsekeeper in a thick country accent, “Mr. Satoru was here yesterday and played polo while riding him. They were perfectly in sync even if it was his first time riding him.”

Of course, he would play polo. That was one of his favorite recreational sports. The burning question at hand was, who was with him during his visit? Because if the caretaker mentioned Akemi, you would certainly lose it. This was your private space with him. This estate was a place that none of his other women had access to, not even Sera. This was a location filled with memories from your childhood. For him to bring another woman here would be crossing the damn line. 

“Did he bring anyone with him?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you dusted off your boots. 

The caretaker denied. “No, he was alone. He just came to play polo and check the horses he recently bought.” 

Oh… “He bought more than one?” 

Did he seriously get Akemi her own horse? Your heart was racing at the thought, but the caretaker led you to the stable near the exit to show you the other horse than your ex-husband had purchased. It was a brown Shetland pony. 

“He got a fully trained Shetland for your son,” the horsekeeper proudly declared, showcasing the pony as if he had been instructed to do so in anticipation of your visit. It was obvious that Gojou had already briefed him on introducing Sachiro’s new pony to you because he knew you would be asking about it. “His name is Elmo. He is kid-safe and very friendly.”

Frankly, you wanted to sigh in relief, but at the same time, it warmed your heart to know that Satoru got his son his own horse at such a young age. You could already sense him planning to make Sachiro take equestrian classes when he gets older, and probably join him on his horseback riding sessions, too. You could imagine just how perfect it would be to see the father and son bonding here, racing together, playing polo together… yet it would not be you who would be watching them on the side.  

This future he was setting up with his son would be an experience he would share with Akemi. 

There was no you in that vision anymore. 

The caretaker likely questioned your sanity when he noticed the bitter smile on your face as you mounted your mare. He might have even doubted whether you were sane enough to ride alone, without a guide, particularly through the woods since Willow had not been ridden for some time now. However, you had done it countless times before and were quite familiar with the trail, and so you dismissed his offer to lead you and assured him confidently that you knew your way back.

You needed this solitude. You craved this moment of peace, alone with your thoughts and surrounded by nature, to reflect on the ceaseless torture of your life. It was just never-ending, squeezing every drop of happiness out of your system to make sure that you would only live to suffer. You really thought you had your happy ending with someone else? You actually believed you had found the perfect man to be your actual husband? 

Well, unfortunately for you, Toji was not the one. 

At first, your mind flew to Toji as you went on to the trail, allowing the mare to continue trotting as you held the reins to control her. You remembered Toji’s text that morning, asking you for the hundredth time if he could meet with you. He likely wanted to apologize in person, but you doubted he would change his mind and take back the things he said. Because they were true. He could never fill the void left by his deceased wife by being with another empty soul. It was painfully, unmistakably true. You were better off dead if that was the case, because even if you did end up marrying him, you would never be regarded as the person he loved the most. After all, your role in this world seemed to always be the second option. You were never the first in other people’s books. Not with your ex-husband. Not even with your family, especially with Gen around. You were meant to be a bystander, watching others live their perfect lives while you were forced to be in your misery. Someone like Toji would not have a guaranteed blissful marriage with you and you had to spare him from that. You had to draw the line and step back from this charade that you were playing with him, knowing that you were never the right person to be with him, so at some point, you had to accept his drunken words. They came from a place of truth, and that truth would set the both of you free. 

Even it hurt. Even if it fucking hurt to hear his words. You couldn’t deny them. 

You could easily forgive him, but his words might take a while for you to forget because even thinking about it now was bringing a wave of pain into your chest. You didn’t even notice that you were losing control on Willow’s reins by the time you entered further into the woods, bouncing on the saddle as you galloped along the challenging path. With the speed you were riding right now, inexperienced riders would certainly find it unsafe and scary. But for you? It was just what you needed. The breeze of fresh air, the thrill of riding alone, the peaceful sound of nature—you could die there and be at your happiest. 

Maybe that was where you had to be; to disappear and leave them all behind. Wouldn’t that be best for everyone? If you were to vanish, they could finally be free. Your presence, even from the beginning, was a burden for everyone—for your dad, Gen, Satoru, Toji, and even Akemi. The people you trusted the most would be the same people who would secretly celebrate your demise. So, what else was hindering you from taking matters into your own hands and ending it all yourself?

“Giddy up!” 

Was it Sachiro? Definitely. But now he had his father, and he was likely starting to see Akemi as a mother figure as well. Your role as his beloved mama could be easily replaced if you were to leave him now. It wouldn’t hurt him as much that way. Three years with Sachiro seemed sufficient enough, and he was at an age where he could grow up alongside his father. In this short span, he would have lasting memories with you, yet not enough to deeply grieve your absence. He was a young child, surrounded by people who would offer the whole world to him. At least, for that, you were eternally grateful. It brought you comfort knowing that your son would have support after you were gone, and that he would find a mother figure in Akemi. Given the brief time he spent with you and the rest of his life with her as his stepmother, Sachiro would likely come to love and accept Akemi as his own mother. This was the best outcome you could hope for.

My child, my son, my baby… please don’t get mad at mommy. 

Tears were gushing out of your eyes and you hadn’t even realized it until they started blurring your vision. You were far too lost in your own thoughts, unaware that you were now in an unfamiliar and seemingly dangerous part of the trail. The path was getting a little bit too steep and poor Willow was clearly stressed at your inconsiderate handling. There were multiple obstacles on your rocky terrain and you weren’t as steady and controlled as you wanted to be because the horse wasn’t comfortable navigating such a difficult path with the pace you were forcing her to.  

“Ah!” 

Your attempt to balance was interrupted by Willow’s loud neigh, signaling her distress before she bolted into a full rampage. She was sprinting at an estimated speed of 20 miles per hour. Not even a skilled rider like Satoru himself would be cantering that fast on unfamiliar terrain and an unfit horse. But you, you clearly had a death wish, because instead of fearing for your own life, you were far more concerned at the thought of how dreamy Satoru and Akemi’s wedding would look like after your demise. They would definitely make Sachiro their ringbearer. Suguru would be the best man. Shoko, the maid of honor. People on the internet would praise them for being an attractive couple. They would anticipate their beautiful kids together, living in the same mansion he bought as a gift to you. He would kiss her good night, tell her loves her, and offer the whole world to her. They would exchange vows and promise themselves a lifelong commitment to be by each other’s side through sickness and in health, and only in death would they part. 

“Willow!” 

You let out a shriek as the reins slipped from your grasp, causing you to tumble off the saddle and crash onto the ground. The impact was first felt in your elbow, and a sharp, searing pain then radiated through your body. There you lay, sprawled on the dirt, helplessly watching Willow galloping out of control up the mountain, and then tragically plummeting off a cliff.

“Nooo! Willow, no!”

Utter hysteria overtook you. You sobbed uncontrollably, unable to determine which pain was more agonizing—the clearly broken elbow, the loss of the horse you had inadvertently led to its death, or the heart-wrenching reality of Satoru starting a family with someone else.

You were pathetic. You were such a pathetic excuse of a human being and this was why you deserve hell. 

“Willow!” 

Toji couldn’t love you. Your own son didn’t want to be around you. Satoru had gotten over you. And now, you drove a poor innocent horse to its demise because of your recklessness! 

You were crying hysterically as you held your pained elbow, crawling by the cliff’s edge as you screamed for your horse’s name, but in the end, there was nothing you could do. You could only apologize to poor Willow for having such an irresponsible owner, and now she was dead because of you. 16 years of her life, she was able to live in peace until you came and ruined it all for her. It should have been you. You were the one who should have jumped off a cliff. You should atone for your sins and follow her, but you were too weak, far to overcome by the excruciating pain on your hip and your broken elbow to move or do anything at all. 

That was, until your mind had completely shut down, leaving you as a mere body to be discarded alone in the darkness of the woods. You hoped that no one else would find you soon. 

— —

“A-Angina?” Satoru’s eyes went wide. His whole world stopped before him.

“Yes. She was diagnosed with stable angina,” Dr. Mori confirmed, much to your husband’s horror. “But there is another factor that requires her to have more rest. You need to take good care of your wife, Mr. Gojou. Her body needs a lot of nutrients so she can carry safely.”

He could barely process the whole thing in his head because the news kept coming one after another, leaving him in a befuddled state with a flood of unanswered questions running through his mind. “What do you mean…?”

“Your wife is seven weeks pregnant.”

…

…

“Y/N?”

“Y/N!”

“Are you out of your mind?!” 

You could barely pry your eyes open, but when you finally managed to, you were met with the concerned expression on Gen’s face. The harsh glare of fluorescent lights and the antiseptic scent confirmed to you that you were in the ER, likely an hour or two after the incident in the woods. The memory of the trail quickly flooded your thoughts, and a pang of sorrow gripped your heart as you recalled Willow's final moments before she fell off the cliff. The poor horse had lost her life, while the one responsible for her tragic death remained alive, save for the bandage wrapped around your arm.

“Why did you ride into the woods alone?” Gen persisted with her barrage of questions, standing by your bed as you attempted to sit up. “Are you suicidal or what? Riding your horse in a dangerous trail like that—”

“You know what, maybe I should have just died back there!” you snapped, wincing from the pain in your elbow. Her choice of words struck a nerve in you. “Maybe I’d prefer that over sitting here, listening to your sanctimonious lecture like you're so perfect yourself! How obnoxious.”

“Then, maybe you shouldn’t be riding so recklessly and causing alarm to everyone else!” 

“Did I literally ask you to come save me?!” 

The atmosphere around you two just became even more uninviting, with discomfiting silence seeping through as you and Gen were engaged in a sharp glaring contest. Your father stood behind her, clearing his throat to cut the tension. 

“That’s enough, Gen.” Your dad placed a hand on her shoulder, and although she wanted to protest, she knew better not to keep stirring the pot after receiving his strict gaze. “Let’s just be thankful your sister is safe. There’s no need to be so overwhelming.” 

You rolled your eyes, drawing in a deep breath before you looked away from them. None of them would ever understand your pain unless they were in your position. They didn’t carry the same baggage as you, so they would never fully comprehend the weight of your suffering. You had already dealt with similar pain on your own before and that was why you didn’t need any of them to come to your aid, meddling with your life like they knew exactly what you were going through. “Just leave me alone, you guys. I wanna rest.”

Since when did your relationship with your sister start to get rough? It wasn’t really like this before, but ever since she started to become too overprotective over you and your choices in life, particularly choices linked to Satoru, Gen had started to become insufferable in your eyes. She was acting too much like a mother; controlling your decisions, lecturing you about your personal relationships, being too involved with your private life. There, ever since that, you started to distance yourself from her, and she didn’t like that. Her stubbornness wouldn’t allow her to cease acting like this mature, picture perfect big sister to you. 

With that said, Gen would have normally gotten annoyed when you asked them to leave you alone, but this time around, she seemed to have reflected on her insensitivity a lot better with your father around. “I’m sorry, okay?” she said, her tone still tinged with stubbornness, “I just got worried. I don’t know what’s gotten into you to put yourself in danger like that, but… please, Y/N. If you’re going through something, you can always speak to us. Dad and I, we’re here for you.” 

To be fair, if you had to put yourself in their shoes, it really would have been alarming to know that your sister almost died. This wasn’t the first time you were at death’s door either, so they were probably scared shitless when they were informed of your situation. Your absolutely reckless situation. You didn’t mean to cause a scene, neither did you intend to bother them on their already busy schedules. You just had so many things in your mind while you were horseback riding, too engulfed by your own sorrow that you didn’t realize the repercussions after the incident had already taken place. 

“I’m sorry, too.” Your voice softened with humility. “I didn’t mean to worry you guys. It was just really an accident.” 

Of course, Gen suspected it was more than just an accident. Your dad did, too. It was obvious on their forlorn faces that they were worried for your mental and emotional well-being, but none of them dared address the elephant in the room. It seemed they didn’t need to, anyway, since one of the many reasons that contributed to your earlier breakdown took a peek from behind the curtains, clearing his throat and sending you a look of sympathy. 

“Y/N?” Toji looked at your father and your sister for approval before stepping further inside your space in the ER. “Can I talk to you?” 

There was no escaping Toji’s presence anymore. No more hiding, no more avoiding. You knew you had to have this talk with him no matter how many times you ignored his flood of texts and calls. While this may have struck as an opportune moment for him to speak to you in person, facing the painful truth of your situation weighed heavily on you. Besides, hadn’t the irony presented itself right there? If Satoru were the one trying to speak to you, even if he was the father of your child, Gen would have been quick to lash out at him. Yet with Toji, even with the general knowledge of what had transpired between you two, your sister still showed no hostility towards him, allowing him to approach you freely and without interference.

But then again, Toji was far from being a cheating, manipulative scumbag who not only caused you suffering but also sought to selfishly acquire your family’s company. Therefore, he wasn’t considered a threat. 

Alright, then. Since Toji genuinely wasn’t a threat to your current emotional state, you agreed to talk with him. It was the first time you had seen the not-so-confident side of Toji Zen’in. He was typically a man of virtue, often holding his chin high, offering the best advice, and having insightful perspectives on life. However, it seemed you had shattered that confidence in him. You could sense his cautiousness around you as he stood by your side in the ER, assisting you with your needs, and eventually agreeing to your request to walk you to the rooftop garden.

“I don’t really think there’s anything else we should talk about.” It was you who first broke the silence, staring at the cityscape while sitting on a wheelchair. The calm breeze allowed your mind to seize the moment with a peaceful mind. “I already heard what you had to say.” 

Toji found it better to kneel down in front of you to meet your eyes as he spoke to you in a sincere and earnest voice. “Y/N, I was drunk when I said all that shit back there. I didn’t mean them. I didn’t mean to hurt you with my callous words, and I feel awful that you had to hear them from me. You trusted me. You sought comfort from me. I wasn’t thinking like a normal person when those things came out of my mouth.” 

“That doesn’t mean they weren’t true,” you replied with quiet resignation. It was the acceptance in your face that seemed to have caused Toji’s heartbroken gaze. “It’s okay, Toji. I think, when you said all those things, it actually made me realize some aspects of our relationship that had to be addressed. It made me more self-aware and it opened my eyes on the bigger picture.” You touched his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze as you mustered the courage to speak your next words. “It’s for the best that we part ways. It’s not fair to me to become a placeholder for your wife the same way it isn’t fair to you to have to deal with my ex-husband always being present in my life. Our unresolved feelings won’t really be resolved by being together.”

“Y/N…” Toji’s voice hinted at his vulnerable emotions, though he restrained himself from showing it fully. And you didn’t miss the apologetic look he had presented to you. “Despite all that, I hope you know that I’d been true to you. I do love you and will always love you. I’ll always be someone you can rely on, someone you can seek comfort from, someone you can turn to when you need help…” 

Damn it. Why did he have to make it sound like an actual break up? Now, it tugged at your heartstrings and hit you in a place it shouldn’t have. You weren’t good at these things and it certainly was your first time dealing with such a mature and mutual separation, but wasn’t that a good thing? No further drama was to happen, leaving a stark comparison to your separation with Satoru. While this one didn’t hurt as much, it still brought a hollow feeling in your chest. 

“Same for me,” you agreed, displaying a weak smile. “You’ll always have a spot in my heart, Toji. I’ll always be grateful that I met you.” 

Sometimes, two people didn’t need to be together to love each other. Friendships could still thrive between ex-lovers, and that was why closure was so important. It not only closed a certain chapter of your life in a healthy way, but also allowed you to heal and open yourselves to a new beginning without any bitterness left behind. 

It shouldn’t be considered bad to remain friends with an ex. It also shouldn’t be bad to give a parting kiss from said ex, right? 

You weren’t the one who initiated it, after all. It was Toji’s hand that gently stroked your cheek. It was him, who leaned forward and pressed his lips onto yours. It wasn’t forceful, but neither was it passionate. It was simply a tender kiss of goodbye, feeling the warmth of each other’s lips for one last time before you two would transition from being lovers to friends. What you didn’t understand from this supposedly bittersweet moment was the faint tears that somehow managed to escape your eyes, perhaps because you knew that once Toji left, you would be alone again. 

You had no one by your side to love you, cherish you, choose you, and offer their entire world for you. You were meant to live this cruel world all by yourself. 

As he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. “Please learn to love yourself before anyone else, Y/N. It’s what you need and what you deserve.” 

That night, while you were getting your MRI, your mind kept flying to the possibilities of a future without having anyone by your side. Any normal person would tell you to focus on loving yourself first, as Toji did recently, focusing on what matters most, and ridding yourself of the toxic things that hinder you from moving forward with your life. Things weren’t as easy as they sounded. Besides, it was different being on the receiving end of the said advice. How could you do those things when the primary cause of your pain was someone whose life would always be linked to yours forever? 

Based on the result of your MRI scans, your doctor recommended that you undergo elbow arthroscopy. It was just a minimally invasive procedure compared to open surgeries, but considering how much of an overthinker your dad was when it came to your health, he insisted on your confinement at the hospital until you had been completely cleared of any other issues. He really placed a big deal on your condition and emphasized to the doctors that they make sure nothing was missed. It could have been worse; you could have had a broken hip or a fractured leg, but at least you only had a dislocated elbow. Nothing that couldn’t be easily corrected by surgery and physical therapy. 

The decision was for you to stay there for two days, and on your first night, a crying Sachiro ran inside your private room because his ‘mama has a boo boo’. Gen said he was picked up from daycare and dropped off at the hospital because the poor kid was looking for you. She didn’t mention who dropped your son off to you, but you could tell it was Satoru. You could sense it by the glances she exchanged with Ian after you asked how Sachiro came to the hospital. 

So, in that case, Satoru must have found out about your little incident and didn’t care enough to see you. Did he not even have an ounce of care anymore? Or was it Gen who stopped him from seeing you? 

“Did you ask him to leave?” you confronted Gen in a mellow voice, rubbing Sachiro’s back as he snuggled into you on the hospital bed. 

Your sister knew exactly which man you were referring to, and she denied having done such. “No, I didn’t even talk to him. He took Sachi here and left.” 

You didn’t know why you looked at Ian to confirm the truth of his wife’s words, but hurt yourself upon seeing his bowed head. It was an apologetic expression that did signify your ex-husband’s blatant act of ignoring you. To hear about your near-death experience and simply leave without even checking on you should be your wake-up call. He didn’t care anymore. No, why should he care? He had Akemi. His only responsibility with you was to be a supportive father to your son. 

Why did the pain in your heart feel far more agonizing than the discomfort on your dislocated elbow?

If anything, you wanted to ask for the strongest anesthetic they could offer to numb your pain. You were desperate to have anything even if they had to put you into an eternal sleep. That would have been much easier to deal with than feeling disregarded by a person you supposedly had moved on from. Satoru did nothing wrong here. It was you who had that expectation, only to disappoint yourself when things didn’t happen as you imagined. 

And just when you thought things would get better as long as you ignore your torturous thoughts, it didn’t help that being in the hospital kept giving you flashbacks of the time you were in this exact room, hearing Satoru crying helplessly from outside and begging for you not to terminate his child. What comes around certainly goes back around. Or worse. 

Such depressive thoughts had you occupied throughout your stay there, and your unusual placidness alarmed the nurses instead of being assured that you were doing well. You heard your doctors telling your father and sister to always keep a close eye on you as the incident may not seem serious, but the trauma would undoubtedly be present somewhere and somehow. Were they aware? Of your intrusive thoughts of wanting to hurt yourself? 

The elbow arthroscopy was successful and by the second day, you were free to go home. You were placed on certain medications to help with the swelling and the pain, and while you were walking around the hospital with a listless mind, you happened to pass by the Obstetrics and Gynecology Department. What a deja vu it was, remembering the time you had seen Satoru there waiting outside for Sera. Back then, it was one of the climactic events in your life that led to a domino effect on the downfall of your marriage. Not that you were reminiscing, but it did remind you that Shoko was probably there in her consultation room and it would be nice to talk to a friend who had witnessed the wild history of your marriage. 

You asked Gen to wait for you in the car while you headed to Ieiri’s consultation room, assuring your visibly worried sister that everything was fine and that you wouldn’t take too long. You had to give Gen some slack, because despite the strains in your relationship as sisters, she was still always there for you. At the end of the day, she was family. 

Shoko, on the other hand, was the next closest thing you had for a sister. She welcomed you inside her room in a very worried embrace, telling you that if she had known about the incident, she would have gone straight to your hospital room on your first day, but you told her not to worry about it and understood that being in the medical field already had her schedule tight. 

“Well, I guess it’s perfect that you’re here, too.” Shoko smiled warmly, sitting behind her desk. She had exciting news to offer, it seemed. “I just wanna say that… of course, I’ll still be sending you a formal invitation and everything. I actually have a few gifts along with it.” 

You shared her enthusiasm. “Hmm… is it what I think it is?” 

The wedding. The most eventful day of her life would be arriving soon and you were the first one to hear it. 

“Yes!” she answered, with the utmost joy coruscating from her eyes. “I want you to be my maid-of-honor, Y/N. I’d be extremely happy if you could make it. I know you just got into an accident, but it won’t be until two months, so—”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You eased her worries by chuckling. “I’m completely fine, of course I’ll be there. I can’t miss it.” 

Shoko was grateful to hear your answer, relieved even, because by asking you to be her maid-of-honor, you should already understand who Suguru’s best man would be. That was a touchy subject for you and she was keenly aware of it, but you didn’t want her to worry. You didn’t want your relationship with your ex-husband to have a negative impact on the relationship of all the other people surrounding the both of you. It was already bad enough that Shoko and Suguru almost called off their engagement after they fought over their morals as you and Satoru’s friends, and you were glad that they somehow made things work. They somehow set aside their disagreements and ultimately chose their love over anything else. 

Their love was beautiful, and while that wasn’t something you could easily have, it was something you deeply admired. 

“Where are you guys planning to hold your wedding?” you asked, steering the conversation away from any mention of your ex-husband. “Here or overseas?” 

She delighted you with her answer, sounding as if this was the perfect wedding she had always dreamed of. “It’s an intimate wedding on the lakeside. Suguru chose the location, actually, since he wanted our wedding to have the view of Mount Fuji.” 

“That’s perfect,” you said with wide eyes. “Lake Kawaguchiko?” 

“Yep. That’s exactly where it’d be.” She smiled with her eyes. “You know this resort… Hoshinoya Fuji? We already booked the place, and we have a luxury cabin for friends and families to stay at.” 

You had been there before, but you were too young to remember. All you knew was that it was a high-end resort that had the best panoramic views of Lake Kawaguchiko and Mount Fuji. The hotel owner was also a close friend of the Gojou family, so that was probably why they were able to rent the entire place for the wedding, especially at a peak season for tourists. 

Since the fall season was arriving, you could only imagine the stunning views of the autumn foliage there. It offered the perfect weather, too. It wouldn’t be as hot as summer, nor as freezing as winter. Surely, it would be nice to do some nature walks and stargazing, maybe ride a boat or bathe in a hot spring. You looked forward to it, except for the fact that your ex-husband would also be there. 

And just what a perfect timing it was, because as Shoko sorted through her patients' medical records above her desk, a file slipped from the pile, revealing the name of your very friend, Akemi. 

“Oh,” Shoko murmured apologetically as she retrieved the record, not wanting to ruin the mood of your conversation. “She, uh, came by a few days ago... with Gojou.”

You didn’t need to ask. You didn’t need to hear any further detail. Akemi’s visit likely revolved around her desire to conceive, as she wouldn’t have visited Shoko otherwise. Why? If it were simply to monitor her polycystic ovary, why did she choose Shoko instead of her own gynecologist? Thinking of how your ex-husband and best friend were attempting to start a family together left your heart shattered in unimaginable pieces, stirring up painful memories of your pathetic marriage with Satoru and reopening old wounds you thought had already healed from. Wasn’t it ironic that a couple of years ago, you were crying over the same situation with Sera? 

You couldn’t stand this feeling anymore. You thought you had already freed yourself from the pain of loving him, yet here you were suffering from the same heartbreak over and over and over again. Tears threatened to spill, but you held them back, the ache in your chest too raw to confront just yet. 

“It’s funny.” Although you displayed an outward smile, the sadness in your voice reflected your otherwise inward thoughts. You didn’t know why you said that. You were just too… too emotional. Almost like you couldn’t breathe. “He was never this passionate with me. They seem so in love.” 

Ieiri’s eyes carried sisterly concern in them. “Y/N, it’s not really what you think.” 

Was it? You weren’t sure what to feel anymore. You certainly weren't there to hear it anymore, either. Satoru chose her, just like what you wanted for him to do. Just like what you asked him to do. He had moved on, he had found someone who would love him for who he was, he had chosen the woman he would share the rest of his future with. Call yourself ridiculous for even feeling hurt about it, because you had no right to be and you definitely chose this. Either you own up to it, or you cry about it for the rest of your life. 

Both choices had no happy endings. 

— —

When Satoru learned about your incident in the woods, he thought he was going to lose his mind. 

Was it out of love that he swiftly left the office in the middle of a meeting just to get to where you were? 

He still had to pick up Sachiro from daycare, and he felt bad telling his son on the way to the hospital that his mother was hurt. It actually gave Satoru a hard time explaining to the 3-year old that they had to go to the hospital because his mommy was there and that she had an unfortunate encounter while riding a horse. 

“Dada, is… is mama okay?” Sachiro pouted with wide, tearful eyes as he clung to his father’s hand. “Sachi wants to go to mama!” 

“She’ll be okay, Sachi.” Gojou carried his son and soothed him as they went inside the hospital, searching for you. “Mommy’s strong, remember?” 

Was it out of love that he wanted to be the person that brought your son to you when you most needed him? 

According to the nurse, your room was on the seventh floor, but when he got there, your room was empty. It was Ian who told him that you went up the rooftop garden to get some fresh air, insisting that if Satoru wanted to go and talk to you, that it was best to leave Sachiro with them. 

And so he did. He ran hastily, almost out of breath, until he reached the rooftop, scanning every face within the vicinity until his tired blue eyes finally landed on you. 

Satoru laughed in disbelief. He scoffed bitterly, with each breath full of disgust. The tips of his fingers felt cold, while his breathing grew thin and ragged. He could feel his stomach clenching at the humiliation of seeing you engaged in an intimate make-out session with Toji Zen’in. 

How sickeningly sweet. 

At that point, he was laughing at his own expense, ignoring the elderly lady who looked at him like he was a crazy person. He stood there frozen for a few minutes, watching you kiss another man before it finally woke him up from reality. 

It was out of love that he let you go. 

You see? This was where his attachment to you would lead him. It was pure and unreasonable selfishness, but he would gain nothing at all from even seeing you. He didn’t need to care for you at all, no. You had Toji. You seemed to be goddamn happy with your life with Toji. And what a romantic fucking moment that was, too. 

Satoru couldn’t think straight when he hurriedly left the hospital and got inside his car. He desperately wanted to forget the painful image of you locking lips with somebody else. How? How would he? Fuck! He was mad, mad at himself for choosing to come to your aid like he still had any role in your life. He was disgusted at himself for ignoring Akemi’s calls after promising her a movie date after work. He couldn’t believe he had her waiting all by herself in that cinema, waiting for him to come while he was stupidly running around the hospital to see his ex-wife. 

You chose Toji, then you better be happy. Satoru hoped you were happy, and that wish came from a place of genuineness. He genuinely hoped the best for you. Because for him, it was time to fully let go and stop himself from trying to be the superhero whenever you were in danger. You weren’t his wife anymore. 

So, was it out of love that he headed straight to Akemi’s apartment that night with a bouquet of red roses? 

She didn’t know what happened nor was she given the full detail as to why he unintentionally stood her up on their date night. He had just briefly explained that he had to drop Sachiro off to you at a hospital because you got into a small accident. Akemi, being your friend, got immediately worried upon hearing the situation and asked if Satoru was able to check on you. 

He said no. He said Toji was there. He said he left as soon as dropped Sachiro off. 

And in an effort to apologize for not paying attention to the current woman in his life, Satoru pulled Akemi in a tight embrace. He held her in her arms, drunk from the sweet and citrusy notes of her perfume, before pulling away to kiss her. He kissed her with the same passion as you did with Toji. Perhaps even more, even better. He completely devoured her lips, with a hand on her cheek and the other on her waist. The taste of her tongue was sweet like strawberries, while her lips were red like cherries. 

This woman was all he needed. 

But was this love? He didn’t know. It was too soon to tell, too early to answer, too hasty to even consider. 

— —

The current situation you were in reminded you of your younger self after your mother had died. It was the same before; you never left the house, often locking yourself in your room, shutting yourself off from the world, and drowning yourself with the pain and loneliness of losing somebody important. 

Sure, no one really died for you to be acting this way right now, but the feeling was still the same. Was this really a comeuppance to all of your wrongdoings before? But just how terrible were you of a person to be hit by this unbelievable truckload of sorrow? You might as well spur on the physical pains of your angina again if this torment continued. Otherwise, how else do you avoid it? 

You were being a terrible mother, too. You were too engrossed by your own misery that you couldn’t even properly take care of Sachiro. He didn’t deserve to have an incompetent and irresponsible mother like you. He deserves someone better, someone like Akemi, who not only has all the motherly traits a woman should have, but also the physical and mental capacity of being a true, strong woman. 

Sachiro was bound to have that, anyway. Now that his father was planning his lifelong journey with another woman, and now that he was trying to build a happy family with her, you were no longer needed in the picture. There was no need for you. 

How many more times would you tell that you have accepted it? 

Because, god be damned, you knew you couldn’t. You knew you were lying to yourself when you said everything was fine, lying to Satoru when you told him you didn’t need him in your life anymore, lying to Toji for telling him that you wanted to marry him, lying to Akemi that you didn’t care if she was seeing your ex-husband, and lying to Sachiro when you promised to him that you would never leave his side. You were a liar. A terrible liar. A pitiful, terrible liar. 

How would you tell the universe that you couldn’t take it anymore? That, for once, you wanted to be showered by happiness and all the good things in life? 

Sera was right. Not everyone could have it all. There were people of lesser fortune who weren’t blessed to live a lavish life like you, yet still work hard to achieve what they want. Why couldn't you achieve your own happiness without blaming it on the universe? If this was simply a lesson, then weren’t you the top student at this rate? 

God. God, help me. You really didn’t know how to deal with this life anymore. You weren’t sure how to proceed. You couldn’t rely on anything other than the bottle of alcohol on your hand—what was once full was now half empty after you took another swig. This was your second bottle already, wasn’t it? Or third? 

You got up from the floor and failed to walk in a straight line as you made your way towards the balcony. Your steps were unsteady, wavering like a leaf caught in a gentle breeze. With each attempt to move forward, your body swayed from side to side, struggling to maintain balance. You almost lost grip of the bottle you were holding. No, it did, in fact, slip from your hand and ended up crashing into the floor. Shards of glass lay across the ground, ready to pierce the soles of your feet to mirror the same physical pain your heart was experiencing. 

“Stop,” you muttered under your breath, begging for your chest to stop hurting. But it only worsened, and your antidote to that was to wash it down with even more liquor. No matter how expensive it was, you didn’t even like the taste of alcohol. You hated the sting on your throat whenever you drank it. You despised the bitterness it left on your tongue. However, it did great at numbing your emotions. 

It just felt wrong in many ways that you were seeing Satoru’s face whenever you closed your eyes. You could see his smile, his loving eyes, his beautiful lips. You missed his embrace, his kiss, his touch. You missed hearing his I love you’s. Him. You missed him. You yearned for him. Three goddamn years, and you were still undeniably in love with him. 

“Satoru…” you cried, sitting on the floor. Each breath made it harder and harder for you to catch as tears continued to stream down your face. You were tired of pretending, denying that you no longer had feelings for him when you knew deep down that you would always choose him. “S-Satoru… come back to me, please.”

Was it him coming inside your room? Or was it your vision making a fool out of you? 

“Baby, what are you doing?” Satoru’s expression was engulfed in immense worry as he knelt down and reached out to you, touching your cheek and looking at your eyes somberly. “Don’t do this yourself, Y/N.” 

Your head hung low, your gaze unfocused and glazed, as you fought to keep your eyes on the path ahead. You had to reach him. You wanted to touch him, hug him. And despite your best efforts, your movements were disjointed and erratic, betraying the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins.

“Y/N, that’s enough.” Gen had to use force just to be able to snatch the bottle away from you, forcing you to wake up to the reality where Satoru no longer existed to be there for you. It was her who came rushing inside your room in the middle of the night. The bottle of liquor was now spilled all over the floor. The same could be described with your emotions. “Get it together. You haven’t been acting like yourself lately!”

You couldn’t, even if you wanted to. You were in delirium after having dealt with all the terrible things the world had thrown at you. If you couldn’t drown yourself in alcohol, how else would you have been able to numb the pain? How else would you have been able to… forget? 

As much as your sister tried to hide the obvious sympathy in her voice, even your drunken mind could recognize it. “We all know you’re going down the depression lane again, but never to this extent.” Her voice cracked in the middle of her sentence, cradling you into her arms as a tear fell down her face. The Gen who would usually lecture you, was now holding you in her arms as her only baby sister. “Stop this, Y/N, please. Don’t ruin your life the second time. I-It’s hurting me. It’s hurting Dad. Do you… do you realize what Sachiro’s gonna think of you when he sees you like this?” 

“Gen…” Muffled sobs unwillingly came out of you, leaving you with such excruciating pain in the chest, so much so that it didn’t even feel like you had done surgery to fix your (quite literally) broken heart.  “I w-want him back,” you continued to cry, “I want my husband back. I want to be with h-him, Gen.” 

“Y/N.”

“Where’s S-Satoru…? D-Did he leave? Please take me to him—”

“Y/N, listen to me.” She gently cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at her pained eyes. “You’re intoxicated. He was never here, and he’d never come for you. You have to let it go.” 

“But—”

“He’s not good for you. He never will be.”

— —

It had been two weeks since Satoru last heard about you. Miwa was the one who updated him that you had already returned to your family’s mansion, letting him know that you were okay and that you were recovering well. Frankly, Satoru was starting to get annoyed at the fact that his secretary was still giving him updates about you. What did he care? He wasn’t your husband anymore. 

Besides, Toji was probably visiting you every day, so why did he have to worry about you? If there was anyone he should be worried about, it was Akemi. She had been experiencing terrible pelvic cramps lately, which needed to be given serious attention, but you would never see her being dramatic about it. The only thing she needed was for Gojou to accompany her visits to the OB-GYN, and even then, she never showered herself in self-pity. She carried herself like an independent woman, and that was exactly what Satoru needed in his life right now. 

He had a son to raise. He had a company to run. It wasn’t the perfect time to commit himself to someone lawfully. Heck, he didn’t even believe in marriage anymore. He realized that two people could still love each other without getting married. As long as Akemi didn’t pressure him about such things, he was fine with having her around. She didn’t ask for anything much, anyway. 

As for you, well… 

“What are you planning with that mansion you gifted Y/N?” asked Nanami, seated on the couch inside Satoru’s office, casually reading a newspaper. “Do you even remember that?” 

He certainly did. “What about it?” he questioned, idly toying with a pen on his desk. “It’s her property now. She can sell it if she wants.”

Better yet, you should let Sachiro inherit the property someday. His son was already set for a life of privilege having wealthy parents on both sides, but wouldn’t the mansion be a substantial addition to his assets in the future? Satoru couldn’t help but envision the kind of man his son would grow up into. He hoped Sachiro would not inherit his father's immaturity and pettiness but would embody the kindness and altruism of his mother. From a business perspective, however, Satoru planned to groom his son to be a leader, as he was the sole heir to the Gojou Group. Additionally, he would also inherit half of Creston and the entirety of Hearte. No wonder Sachiro was recently listed as the wealthiest kid by Forbes Japan. He even beat Megumi Zen’in from the list even though the teenager was the heir of the Zen’in business empire. 

These were the thoughts that should consume Satoru—the future, not the past. His kid, not you. And he was right about doing so, because when he came home to his penthouse, he was told that he had a visitor. 

A visitor on a Wednesday afternoon? 

Your brother-in-law, the esteemed prosecutor who sent his evil stepmother to jail, appeared on his front door, carrying Sachiro in his arms. It was hard to tell what type of emotions were visible on the man’s face, but he definitely didn’t bring any good news. 

“Ian?” Satoru promptly made way for the man to come in, ushering him into the penthouse and allowing him to set Sachiro down. The young boy was quick to dart off to his playroom, leaving the two men in an uncomfortable silence. “What’s going on? Weekends are usually my schedule with Sachi.” 

Ian cleared his throat, a hand on his pocket. “Do you mind looking after Sachiro for the time being?” 

By saying ‘for the time being’, it seemed like Ian wanted to actually say ‘until further notice.’ But that confused Satoru even more, because what was happening for the man to come here and ask him to let Sachiro stay beyond the agreed schedule with his father? He couldn’t read through Ian’s expression and it was making him uneasy. 

“I can, but… why so suddenly?” Gojou asked, glancing at his oblivious son. 

“It’s Y/N’s idea, Gen doesn’t know about it.” Ian released an awkward chuckle. “You know how my wife is.” 

Gen would absolutely hate it, Satoru was aware for sure. Though the questions lingered in his mind. “Why would Y/N want Sachi to stay with me? Where’s she?” 

Was it him or was Ian having a hard time explaining the situation? It felt like he was walking on eggshells, deciding between what had to be said and what shouldn’t. He was careful with his words when he spoke again, “Y/N flew to Monaco this morning and will be back when she’s ready. She says Sachiro should spend all of his time with you while she’s gone.” 

Monaco? Why would you be there?

Confusion bathed Satoru’s eyes. “Is it for a fashion event or something?” 

“No, she’s just…” Ian struggled heavily. “Well, to sum it up, she has to go there to sort some things out. It’s a personal thing, but she really needs this time for herself and we think it’s the best for her right now. I don’t know how long she’s gonna stay there or when she’ll be back, but I hope you understand what I’m trying to say here.”

No, he didn’t. Satoru found it difficult to fathom his ex-brother-in-law’s words, seeing as he had no general idea of what was truly going on. But if you were flying to Monaco, surely Toji wouldn’t allow you to go there all by yourself? 

Ahh. It made sense now. I see what’s happening here. 

Satoru’s lips curled into sarcasm. You would be vacationing with the love of your life. Is that what it was? Planning your halted wedding? Choosing wedding gowns? Looking for venues? There was no way you would be flying to Monaco alone, especially without Sachiro around when you two had been inseparable since his birth. 

“What kinda mother is she?” Satoru muttered in disgust, unaware that Ian had overheard him. But Ian had heard loud and clear. How could you leave your son behind like this? Couldn’t you face your ex-husband to discuss it, instead of just dropping Sachiro off as if he were some unwanted toy?

“Hold it right there,” Ian interjected, becoming defensive at the accusation. “You have no idea what she’s going through.”

How would he know? No one was telling him shit. No one was giving him details, so did they expect him to understand things and accept them as they were? Did they do the same thing to Satoru when he was at the verge of losing his sanity asking everyone for forgiveness over and over? 

“I've never taken sides between you two, Satoru, you know that,” Ian continued, trying to maintain a calm demeanor and speak with clear judgment, “But one thing I’m not gonna let you do is call Y/N a bad mother.”

Satoru’s chest tightened at Ian's words, a mixture of guilt and frustration bubbling up inside him. He knew he shouldn’t have spoken out of turn, but the pain and resentment were too raw to contain. It felt like you were abandoning him and your child, like you were off to a new chapter in your life again, and leaving everything behind. Perhaps this was his trauma from the New York thing crawling back at him, but it definitely reminded him of the day you had abandoned him. For three fucking years. How long would it take you to return now? 

Why do you keep doing this? He was sick of it. You kept running away instead of talking to him. He gets it, people change, circumstances change, but couldn’t you at least have the decency to talk to him about it? Was it wrong for him to wish you’d handled this differently? To wish that you’d talked to him, involved him in the decision-making process, instead of just making this unilateral decision and leaving him to pick up the pieces? 

Satoru took a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. “It’s fine, I’ll take care of Sachi,” he reassured, “I’ll take some time off work and have ‘Kemi help me out.” 

He looked back at Ian, his eyes pleading for further details, for answers, for some semblance of clarity in the midst of this emotional turmoil.

Yet none of it was given. 

And so, would it still be wrong to assume that he could now completely forget about you? That this opportunity to be with Sachiro would allow him a chance to share it with someone else? If you spent three years of your life playing house in New York with Toji, would it still be unfair for Satoru to do the same with Akemi? 

#series: sincerely yours #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo angst #jjk angst

[lovelybluebirdie]

Blood whispers

Astarion x gn!Reader 

Summary: On the night you almost killed him, Astarion promised to help you overcome your urges. When they suddenly threaten to overwhelm you again, he needs to take care of you.

Word Count: 2,8k

no warnings, hurt/comfort, fluff

AO3

Travelling across the shadow-cursed lands had provided Astarion some valuable knowledge. Not only had he learned the meanings of the scars on his back, it was also revealed that the scheme behind the tadpole in his brain was far greater than he had initially anticipated.

These discoveries alone should have been enough to keep him adequately occupied, yet there had been another novelty: for the first time in his life he had developed genuine affection for someone. Namely for you, the softhearted adventurer with an undeniable saviour-complex. You had filled his chest with an unfamiliar warmth and therefore led him to great confusion - at least until his constant brooding had left the inevitable conclusion that you meant far more to him than a solely guarantee for his safety.

His plan with you had been calculated to serve his own needs. He needed protection, so he had aimed to lure you into a selfish alliance by gaining your trust and using his charm to get you on his side. 

As it turned out, this simple little plan of his had fallen apart rather quickly: not only had he come to truly care about you, he had also openly admitted these feelings to you. To his surprise, you had shared that you felt the same.

Even though Astarion wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing with you half the time or where all of this was leading - being with you was astonishingly nice. 

From the moment Astarion had told you about his failed plan, you had decided to be with each other without sleeping together. For the past centuries, sex had been merely a tool for him to collect victims for his former master, so it still brought up feelings of loath and disgust. 

With you, he experienced that there was more to intimacy than sex.

At first, the thought of forming a sincere connection had terrified him. What was he to do with you, and how could he be close to you in a real way - in a way that mattered?

But somehow, you made it easy for him. 

You had been considerate not to overwhelm him with your affection. It had been small steps: a single grasp for his hand, some soft kisses in the safety of your blanket or a heartfelt embrace in between all the fights and mischief that paved the way along your journey to free yourself from the tadpoles.

Sometimes you would read to him, his head resting comfortably in your lap, while your fingers formed circles through his curls. He adored the feeling of your body close against his back, leaving the sensation of your warm hands on his chest the last thing he would remember before he would fall into his nightly trance. 

You made him feel safe, and he found himself positively enjoying your time together.

Of course there had also been that other night. 

That night, when the fear over losing you to your darkness had scared Astarion more than any torture his former master could have ever inflicted on him.

You had woken him with a vigorous shake, eyes wide open and sheer panic in your voice. “We don’t have much time,” you would say, almost swallowing your tongue. “I’m going to kill the person I care about most – and it is you.”

Flattery aside, the threat of being murdered by his lover posed a fairly unpleasant way to be brought from his rest, so Astarion was forced to act fast. 

You had spent the night with your wrists tied up while he watched over you, ensuring that you faced no harm. On the next morning you were yourself again, but the whole ordeal had left its mark on both of you.

And that was another thing about you: despite being the kindest person Astarion had ever met, you were also the only one that was cursed to unwillingly bring a great deal of murder and despair into this world. 

Those violent urges would occasionally infest your mind with a strong yearn to kill and destroy. Gruesome thoughts, suddenly engulfing you with malicious intent - their origin unknown to you. When you resisted them, they would usually fade as quickly as they came, leaving you with a throbbing headache.

One might say that those were not exactly the best circumstances for a blossoming relationship, but Astarion was not particularly impressed by such assumptions. In fact, he had learnt that there was a certain comfort in sharing the burden of internal turmoil. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he had found himself drawn to you from the moment you had met.

Besides, Astarion was confident that you would find a way to rid yourself from these aggravating compulsions for good. After all, he had promised you on that fateful night - and even if he might exaggerate at times, he had meant every single word.

A light breeze rustled through the trees and brought him back from his thoughts. He sat next to his tent with a book in his hands and relished the last beams the sun would offer that day. The warmth was pleasant on his skin, especially after the long march that was behind him.

You and the rest of your companions had left the shadowlands a few days ago and were now heading towards Baldur’s Gate. After hiking through dense forests and small villages, you had decided it was time to make camp and continue your travels after dawn.

It was unusually quiet today. Perhaps the others were taking some time for themselves as well, he thought. You would probably gather around the fire later this evening, sharing some tales over a bottle of wine or discussing the next steps lying ahead of you. 

Astarion let his gaze wander, back from the other tents to a more secluded spot, where he found you. You were sitting in the grass, holding one arm out in front of you with a loaf of bread beside your feet. A small bird with bright orange feathers was fluttering excitedly around you. It seemed like you were about to toss it some crumbs, and it was impatiently waiting to get its beak full.

Astarion rolled his eyes. Typical. You would probably even share your food with some random animal if it meant starving yourself. 

Then again, it was also kind of adorable, he thought as his lips inevitably turned into a grin.

As he continued to watch you from afar, he realised that something was off about you. You weren't moving at all. 

That was odd. 

Your arm looked too stiff, slightly cramped even, and as he squinted his eyes to get a better look, he could see that your hand was clenched into a fist. It was as if you were forcing yourself to hold the position.

Astarion’s senses immediately sharpened.

He got up with haste, carelessly tossing his book aside and lunged towards you while calling out your name.

This was bad.

Uneasiness spread over his body like a rash, before he could even pinpoint what was going on with you. 

“My love, are you al-” The sentence stuck in his throat as he finally came to see you up close.

Your mouth was twitching, contorting your soft features into a grotesque grimace. You looked nothing like your usual self.

Astarion had seen this expression on you before.

His thoughts started to race, as he prepared himself to force you to the ground if necessary. He had no rope on him to restrain you, but in lack of a better solution his laces would have to do.

In any case, he would not let that thing take control over you.

He reached for your shoulder, bracing himself for the worst - but before he could grab you, your features already started to relax.

You must have snapped out of it. This was you again. 

You let your stiffened arm hang down and opened your fist, spilling the remaining crumbs on the floor. Instead of picking them up, the bird hastily flew away. Even the creature must have sensed that something was off.

Astarion let himself sink next to you in the grass and sighed. The danger had passed, it had not taken you.

“I wanted to feed it, I swear,” you explained between quivering lips. “But - my wretched brain almost made me kill this poor little thing.” Your hands were trembling, a deep misery resonating within your words.

A thick lump formed in Astarion’s throat as he noticed tears started to glisten in your eyes.

“I know, my love,” he said and rested his hand on your shoulder. “But remember, this isn’t you. And you brought the bird no harm.”

You swallowed hard and fixated him with your gaze. 

“Yes, this time. But what if I couldn’t have stopped myself? What if I would have killed it - just like that, without any other reason than my sick thoughts ordering me to?”

“Well, in that case…, “ Astarion replied and tapped his chin, “I assume Gale would have served you some poultry tonight. And I would’ve been glad to depend on blood for a chance, since you’d probably have to fight over that unfortunate little thing. I mean you have to admit, to fill the stomachs of our dear friends you should have aimed for something more substantial to mangle.” 

Astarion was no fool. This wasn’t just about you hypothetically killing that bird. Your urges evidently didn’t spare other living beings as well - including himself. This was serious, and yet he felt the need to cheer you up over some silly remark, as you would often find solace in your shared banter. While it was certainly not his best attempt to brighten the mood, it was an attempt nonetheless.

To his satisfaction, you huffed a quick chuckle that finally caused the tears in your eyes to spill over. 

“You’re pretty macabre, you know that?” you scolded and slightly shook your head.

“Am I now? Darling, I’m hurt,” he exclaimed in exaggerated dismay, before a genuine fondness took over his voice. “But honestly, I’m truly proud of you. I can only imagine the force that overwhelms you in those moments, and yet… You’ve proven more than once that you’re stronger than this.” He let his fingers gently brush over the wetness covering your cheeks. 

The gravity of the situation appeared to reclaim you with pressing weight, wiping off the faint smile at his clumsy attempt. You turned your head away from him.

“Astarion… I understand if you would hate me for this.” It was no more than a mumble coming from you, but enough to take Astarion aback. 

He gave his answer fast, almost instinctive.

“No, I could never hate you.” 

It was true. That he could never, not when there was so much about you to love. But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to say this out loud to you, not yet at least. 

Instead, a tight knot formed in his chest, as he watched your eyes focusing the space between your feet while you let out a quiet sob.

“My love, look at me.” He spoke softly as he reached out for you. With the utmost tenderness, he cupped your face in his hands and made your eyes meet his. “The other night, when you almost drenched my curls in a veil of the beautiful red of my blood, I made you a promise. You remember, don’t you?”

You nodded with your face still resting between his slender hands, as another quiet sob spilled from your lips. 

“Good. And I mean it still. We will get you through whatever the hells this is. We are in this together.” 

His voice trembled despite the honesty that fueled his words. Astarion had no intention to abandon you, the same way you had sworn to help him with his own demons. But this was not about him, this was about you.

You shifted a little closer and wrapped your arms around him - tentatively, almost hesitant at first, until you drew him into a tight embrace.

Your body was warm and pleasant against his, and he would let you hold him - not only because you needed this, but because he wanted to.

“It's okay my sweet, I’ve got you,” he whispered while he cradled you in his arms and let his lips graze against your temple.

Your fingers clutched the collar of his shirt while he breathed words of comfort over the sobs that escaped your throat. 

For now, there was no need for anything else, only him holding you while you cried.

Had he not already sworn to rid you of this affliction, he would tell you over and over again like a broken record, until he made sure that every inch of your body was certain about it.

Eventually you would clear your throat and look up to him. Your face was still wet from your tears, but there was also a glimmer of hope to be found. 

“Thank you. For believing in the good in me, I mean. Despite all of this.” 

“Well, who else would I believe in if not my brave little fool over here?” Astarion said and put a quick kiss to your hair. “Besides, I have no intention of dying again, so ridding yourself from this murderous condition might align with that rather splendidly.”

Your lips curled to a smile, only to be immediately disrupted by a pained groan that left your mouth and made you wince in Astarion’s arms.

“How bad is it?” he asked with concern as he glanced at you.

Another wince. “Honestly? Like my skull was split open with an axe,” you replied with a sharp exhale. “But it’s not the worst I ever had. I’m sure it’ll pass any minute.”

You pushed your fingers to your eyes and stretched your neck upwards, causing Astarion to doubt your words.

He knew that those headaches came with your affliction. Sometimes they would dissolve rather quickly, other times they got so worse that you had to lie down and he would fetch you a cloth drenched in the coldest water he could gather. 

The urgent need to comfort you rose in him again, so he put his hands on your face and slowly pulled you towards him until he could feel your breath on his skin. Then he carefully rested his brow against yours.

That was the best he could think of for now. He closed his eyes and felt your familiar warmth spreading onto him, hoping that he would spend you some soothing coldness.

You remained like this for a moment, the only sound coming from your steady breath. 

Astarion eventually lifted his brow and placed the softest kiss on its former place, right where he assumed your pain was sitting. With his hands, he reached for the back of your neck, giving it a gentle massage.

Your eyes remained closed while you let out a silent moan. You seemed to relax from his touch, the dampness on your skin bathing your handsome features in a light shimmer.

There was this sensation again, something Astarion only had with you. A prickling flutter, spreading from his chest all over his body.

What had you done to him that made him so blissfully light and at the same time would completely sweep him off his feet? Had his heart still pumped blood, Astarion was sure it would beat up to his neck right now. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful.” His adoration made him almost stumble over his words, but he needed you to hear them. 

Then he kissed the tip of your nose, before his lips would finally find yours. You tasted soft and sweet, making him longing to have more of you. Heat rose to his ears as his tongue gently curled around yours, while your hand stroked through his hair, pulling him closer to you. He couldn’t stop his lips from forming a loving smile over your pleasant warmth, before they met yours again for another tender kiss. There was no tadpole, no Cazador, nor the darkness in you. This moment belonged to you and him alone - and every touch was right.

He finished your kiss with another quick peck to your forehead and cleared his throat. “I do rather like that, you know.” 

“That’s pretty convenient,” you whispered with fondness in your eyes, “because I think that actually helped. My head feels light again.” 

“I'm glad,” Astarion murmured with relief. “Is there anything else you need? Just tell me, and I’ll get it for you.”

“For now, all I need is your presence,” you replied before resting your hand on his cheek. “Knowing that you'll stay with me.” 

“Of course, my love,” Astarion assured as he graciously sunk against your palm. “You’re not alone in this, you have me. And I’m not going anywhere.”

And it was true. It was a promise, after all.

Masterlist

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x dark urge #astarion x tav #astarion #bg 3 #baldur’s gate fanfiction #astarion fic #astarion oneshot #astarion ancunin #baldur’s gate astarion #soft astarion #astarion imagine #astarion fanfic #astarion romance #bg 3 astarion #astarion fluff #bg 3 fluff #bg 3 fanfic #astarion x durge

[beatificwrites]

HIDDEN WANTS ★

pairing: hobie brown x gn!spider!reader

content: gender-neutral reader, no use of y/n

premise: you and hobie are completely unaware of the undeniable tension between you two and the feelings you carry for one another

It was yet another ordinary day at the spider society which consisted of: small breakfast with your spidey friends, taking care of anomalies, possibly being lectured by miguel for being too reckless, lunch with spidey friends, and sometimes more anomalies to take care of afterwards or none at all.

You took out a box of frozen pizza from the fridge and got a plastic plate from the cupboard above it. You were in the food lounge, as everyone liked to call it—the place had no official name though, it was just a room where food was kept if you didn’t want cafeteria food. You threw the cold slices in the microwave and set it for 3 minutes.

You were preparing yours and Hobie’s lunch for the day. He never brings his own lunch and just steals from your plate, so recently you started bringing enough for the two of you to eat.

You sensed a presence behind you, trying to go unnoticed and instantly knew it was him.

“You know that I know you’re there, right?” you crossed your arms, and asked matter of factly.

“Yeh, just tryna see if your senses are back in check, dat’s all.” he teased.

He’s referring to last week when your senses seemed off because you didn’t notice the huge boulder being thrown your way. Hobie had to save you last minute and now he will never live it down, he loves annoying you.

You rolled your eyes and groaned, “just shut up already! It was one time, for crying out loud!”

He chuckled and moved up to stand beside you as you watched the pizza slices slowly spin behind the glass. He was awfully close, and that fact conjured a bit of nervousness with a hint excitement. You don’t exactly know why you always felt the latter whenever he was near, therefore you always write it off as being happy that a friend was in your company.

The aggressive beeping coming from the microwave pulled you out of your thoughts and you quickly took out the steaming slices, then handed the plate over to Hobie, knowing he would want the first bite. Your friendship has reached a point where one usually knows what the other wants.

Hobie smiled then gladly took that first bite while you shook your head jokingly. You both walked out of the lounge and through the halls filled with spideys all over the place. Hobie’s arm was now casually hanging over your shoulder as he chomped away at his slice with his other hand. You were now holding the plate and aimlessly leaning against him as you two made your way to the cafeteria where the rest of your friends were.

“Ew, dude, you smack so loud!” you remarked as jabbed him with your elbow.

“Literally chew like dis everyday, bruv. Besides, nothing compares to your obnoxious sippin’.” he replied with a sneer, before returning to his smacking.

“Oh, ha-ha, right like I’m the slob!” you said sarcastically.

You two finally reached your table and your friends—gwen, miles, and pavitr—merely watched as you both laughed with each other and sat down with Hobie’s arm still thrown over your shoulder, completely oblivious to how you both looked from an outside perspective.

“Uh…do they see themselves?” miles whispered.

“I don’t think they’re aware…” gwen whispered back.

“Are they not already together?!” pavitr whisper-yelled.

“Wassup, mandem.” Hobie greeted.

When you grabbed your slice, you looked up at your friends for the first time. “Why are you guys so being quiet?” you asked, confused.

Gwen acted as if her mouth was filled with food and Miles and Pavitr copied her immediately, even adding a few extra finger licks here and there. Gwen covered her mouth before saying, “we already started eating that’s why.”

“Mmh, yeah, I was really getting into this bacon sandwich right here! Right, Pav?” Miles asked with an awkward smile.

“Totally, man!” Pavitr replied, too enthusiastic.

“Okay…” you chucked at their weirdness, then followed up with, “So, how was your first mission, Miles?”

“Light-work, needed no help at all! I don’t know why Miguel was acting like I was gonna screw the whole thing up.” he responded with a shrug.

“Except that you did need help and couldn’t do it all alone on your first try…” Gwen chimed in.

“I hardly see how that’s relevant.” Miles clapped back.

You were trying to listen and eat at the same time, but Hobie’s head laying against your shoulder made the endeavor a little challenging. You were still eating, though his weight now on you was all you could focus on.

In Hobie’s mind, he appreciated the closeness and carelessness towards touch you guys carried in your relationship because he could lean against you or hold you close all he wanted without it seeming like he viewed you as more than a friend. It was a great way to mask his ever-growing crush on you, along with the occasional teasing flirts that he could play off as jokes.

“You got some sauce on your face, lad.” he commented before gently wiping off tomato sauce from the corner of your mouth with the side of his thumb. You stayed put as soon as you felt his touch on your face. You thanked him with a smile before resuming to your almost finished slice. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr just shook their heads at each other.

“You lot doin’ anythin’ tonight?” Hobie asked the group.

“Nope, I—Yeahhhh, gonna be super busy with my aunt Maya back at home!” Pavitr explained once Gwen slightly nudged him.

“Yeah, I gotta help my mom with…work…stuff! And gwen’s helping me!” Miles added.

“Alright, then...you free?” Hobie asked as he looked up at you.

“Um, yeah, got nothing planned for the rest of the day.”

“Another jam sesh at my place?”

“I’m down!” you exclaimed.

“Coo’, let’s go after dis!” he said before suddenly grabbing your pizza crust and stuffing it in his mouth.

“Hey! I wanted that!” you bemoaned.

“Too bad.” he said, almost inaudibly, with a smirk.

“You repay my kindness with still stealing my food?!”

“Deal with it.” he stated playfully.

You abruptly placed him in a headlock and he started to yelling “tap out, tap out” before swiftly pulling your arm over his head and going straight for a tickle attack. Once you felt the funny tingle on your neck you began to squirm around and laugh out loud. Hobie laughed to himself quietly at the escalation of events, but paused at the hearty sound of your laughter. You sounded sweet.

“At this point we’re 5th wheeling...” Miles sighed.

“Yeah, if we leave we’ll go unnoticed.” Gwen added.

Pavitr was mumbling to himself incessantly before finally shouting, “when are you two going to ask each other out?! You’re driving us all nuts!”

The whole table was now silent and a few spideys around the area looked over.

You and Hobie looked at one another, and simultaneously went, “huh??”

“Huh? What do you mean ‘huhhh?’ ! You guys are always so immersed in each other, you’re practically dating!!” Pavitr went on.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Pav. We’re just friends!” you defended.

“You two act like a couple and every-spider here can see that!” he explained further.

“Hey, lovebirds! I got a proposition for both of you.” Peter B. Parker appeared out of nowhere.

“See?!!!” Pav stressed.

“Oh.” Hobie just said.

“Well…that’s how we are with each other! Super close! There’s nothing going on here.”

“Yeah, what they said.” Hobie agreed.

“You two actually make a great power couple! You’re like the stereotypical punk-rock duo.” Gwen mid-joked.

───────── ☆

That was five hours ago, and now you two are in Hobie’s band room playing together. No real song was being played, but you and him liked to mess around and improvise new sounds. Him on guitar and you on drums. You twirl the sticks like a natural and change rhythms from time to time and Hobie’s fingers glide adeptly across his chords as he harmonizes with you.

This was one of your favorite pastimes because it’s how you and Hobie bonded at first; when you found out he played guitar you shared that you knew how to play drums and there was an instant connection.

He was already interested in you because of your unique fighting style even though you two shared about the same abilities. You thought his dope way of dressing and punk attitude was enough to reel you in, however music brought your spirits together and a beautiful friendship had blossomed as a result.

Beneath the teasing moments and oblivious public displays of affection, lay Hobie’s mind constantly debating whether or not he should casually admit he likes you, but his never ending fear of possibly ruining your friendship, if you reject him, ultimately wins the debate in the end and he shrugs his feelings off.

It’s moments like these, when you play together, that he takes the time to appreciate your company and steal a few glances at your face. Hobie would strike his chords and try to look at you without being noticed at first, but realized he could stare at you for longer because you would be deeply immersed in your playing. You were just so precious, he thought.

Unbeknownst to him, you did the same, though you struggled far more because you were forced to look down. Every chance you got, you’d instantly look up and take a second to revel in his coolness and cuteness while he played. You struggled more this time because your mind was tasked with a serious decision it needed to make.

“I think we should take a break. My hands are getting tired.” you stretched and cracked your fingers.

“Good idea.” he chugged the last bit of water left in his bottle, then chucked it into a bin.

He carefully laid his guitar against its stand and you placed down your sticks. He followed behind you out the room and into his small living space. You threw yourself onto his couch with a yawn and he did the same, then positioned himself so that his head was leaning on yours.

“You know, I thought a lot about what Gwen and Pav said eariler, and I actually do think we would make a great power couple. In a cool way, you know?“ you suggested with a light chuckle.

“I think we’d make a cute couple in general.” Hobie teased, half-jokingly.

“That too.” you immediately agreed.

Your confidence was through the roof all of the sudden and the urge to tell Hobie the truth about how you’ve felt for months was dying to acted upon. You knew the stakes were high, but you couldn’t deal with hiding your personal, inner thoughts any longer.

His eyes slightly widened, he was taken aback. “Wait, huh?”

“Well, yeah, now that I think about it…they were right. We do make a power couple because of our hero identities, we act like a couple, and it only helps that I like you too.” you confessed.

“You bein’ for real?” he turned to eye you and search for any hint of teasing.

“Gosh, yes, Hobie I really like you okay?! I want to be with all the time, swing around London with you always, watch our favorite movies, and make music! I don’t want to leave your side. You’re all I want.” you spilled out.

You watched Hobie nervously and fidgeted with your fingers as you waited for his mouth to form the anticipating words. You were honestly a little scared; the ‘idgaf’ attitude left as soon as it came and now you don’t actually know what he’ll respond with.

Hobie finally picked up his mouth and admitted, “I hate watching you go because I always want you to stay, love. I don’t like gettin’ all sentimental, howeva you make being vulnerable a whole lot easier. I want all of my time to be consumed by you and I would like everyone to know how much I care for you, so…I really like you too.”

Relief, bliss, and watery eyes were all jabbing you at once. You exhaled a breath you were unaware of holding, processed the fact that Hobie—your best friend—just admitted he liked you back, and his extremely sweet words were going to stupidly make you cry.

He gave you a warm smile, then brought you in for a tight hug. “Aww, don’t be such a sap.” he joked before stroking your back as you began to sniff.

“I was so worried you didn’t feel the same, Hob! I was preparing to say goodbye!” you lightly sniffed.

“I like you, alright? I love everythin’ about you. I love bein’ around you, listenin’ to your pointless rants, mockin’ you at every opportunity, but what I love most about you is your understanding of me. I appreciate you like no other and I want you to know that, even though I got a weird way of showin’ it.” he went on, running his hands above your undershirt.

“Gosh, you’re so sweet when you want to be, Hobie. You’re so cute for that.” you professed just seconds before taking advantage of your newfound confidence once more and pecking his lips.

Now, Hobie was physically taken aback and wasn’t sure where was appropriate for him to place his hands. You giggled at his dumbfounded state, him not knowing how to one up you this time. You kissed him again.

“For pete’s sake, you’re gonna turn me real soft!” he complained while laughing. “Give me another.”

“With pleasure!” you beamed, then kissed the rest of his face.

───────── ☆

© beatificwrites

#reader included #reader insert #x reader #fluff #x gender neutral reader #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #astv fic #astv hobie #hobie brown #across the spider verse #atsv x you #spiderman imagine #spider punk #daniel kaluuya #spiderpunk atsv #spiderpunk x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #spiderman #spiderman fandom #astv fanfic #daniel kaluuya x reader #beyond the spiderverse #spiderman punk #gender neutral character #gender neutral language #x gn reader #hobie brown imagine #writeblr

[zoewrites]

Your Price (Joel Miller x F!Reader) 18+

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, smut, alcohol, prostitution, dirty talk, daddy kink, pet names, rough blowjobs, cumplay, grinding, overstimulation, size kink, creampie, unprotected sex, negative attitude towards sex work, rude grumpy joel

Wordcount: 4k

Even from a distance, you could sense the ever-present air of grumpiness that exuded from Joel Miller’s being. And it made your heart beat faster. He sat alone at the bar, his narrowed eyes fixed on the glass of whiskey in his hand. He only ever raised his head to flag down the bartender for more. 

Since his arrival in the community last month, you’d heard plenty of gossip about the man. That he was a dangerous smuggler, having committed unspeakable acts of violence - and not just for survival-

And that he was cold to even those who had reached out and tried to help him settle in-

 And that he seemed to revel in his reputation as a tough, unapproachable man, only ever softening for that daughter who “wasn’t actually his daughter.”

“Ungrateful son of a bitch,” Your friend had described him in a huff after a particularly unpleasant encounter down at the stables, “He’s damn lucky that Tommy is his brother…”

But all the rumors did was fuel your curiosity and crush. There was an undeniable allure about the mysterious older man. The combination of his rugged looks and the intimidating energy surrounding him made him undeniably attractive to you, drawing you in despite the barriers he put up. On the third fill of his glass, you decided it was your chance to approach him. 

You sauntered over across the busy saloon, taking a seat beside him. Not a shred of acknowledgment upon his face as you cleared your throat, leaning in slightly. 

“Hey cowboy,” You smiled, taking a sip of your drink, letting it fuel your determination.

Joel turned his head to glance at you, his eyebrow raised but his expression remained guarded. 

“Mind if I-”

“M’not interested.” His low voice shut you down and he turned back to his whiskey.

You felt a pang of frustration at his immediate dismissal. But you also felt another kind of pang, one that settled deep down within you as you finally got a close-up look at the man. His features were weathered, with grey patches in his beard and lines of experience framing his eyes. It made you wonder what all he had seen out beyond the walls of Jackson where you’d spent most of your life.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” You maintained your composure, smirking at him.

“I know who y’are, what you do,” He grumbled, still not facing you.

“Do you?” You questioned, curious as to what exactly he knew. It was true you had a bit of an… “arrangement” going on with some of the men in the community. You were a pretty girl who liked attention, and in a town where bartering was the new monetary medium, what was wrong with receiving a little… “compensation” for your time? You had no shame, it was a win-win for all involved.

He didn’t answer. Instead, his jaw clenched even more and his thumb and index finger met the bridge of his nose, sighing in annoyance.

“Long day?” Not one to give up easily, you egged him on.

“Long week. S’Why I’m here. Trying to relax.” He punctuated the end of his sentence by setting the glass down and glaring at you. 

“And how is that working out for you?” He watched as you swiveled your bar stool towards his, stretching your long legs out and crossing one over the other, giving him your full attention. The way his eyes flickered to the exposed skin on your thigh where your dress rode up didn’t go unnoticed. In fact, it ignited something in you.

“Was workin’ real nicely till you interrupted.” You were indeed beginning to understand why he was so disliked.

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow, “Because you were lookin’ real lonely over here to me.”

Joel scoffed.

“But maybe I could help you.”

“Help?” He frowned.

“With relaxing,” You teased, leaning in a little closer, “I’m good at that kind of thing.”

You maintained his eye contact as you slowly wrapped your lips around the straw of your cocktail. You swore you could see redness bloom on the apples of his cheeks when he shook his head. The craving was building, you wanted to see this man come undone.

“Jesus Christ, woman.” He murmured under his breath, almost too quiet for you to hear over the rowdy Friday night crowd.

You shrugged innocently, turning your stool back to face the bar. You began to wonder if he really was as impossible to crack as everyone said. But he was still sitting so close that you could feel his body heat against your right side. And you could smell the leather of his worn jacket. You swallowed hard as the two of you sat in silence. Just as you were about to excuse yourself and give up for the night, he cleared his throat.

“How much?” Joel asked quietly and you felt your eyes narrow in disbelief, surely you’d misheard him.

“Hm?” 

“Your price.” Oh? Oh. Your heart slammed against the walls of your chest.

“Oh really?” You couldn’t control the teasing grin that spread across your face, you had Joel Miller right where you wanted him, “Now you’re interested?”

“Forget it,” He muttered and went to stand.

“Hey, wait,” You reached for his arm, eyes shining bright with delight, “Yours or mine?”

--

You passed by Joel’s home most days on your walks to the greenhouse or the stables. You'd always hoped to catch a glimpse of him out on the porch, sometimes talking with Ellie, sometimes strumming a guitar. Though you’d never spoken to either, it always felt like you were being let in on a little secret, getting to see just a glimpse of who Joel was underneath that cold exterior.

And now here you were, standing on that very porch, following him inside. It was tidy aside from a few pairs of boots and some comic books strewn about. Better than you were expecting for a single father and a teenager.

“Your kid out for the night?” You'd asked, letting your fingers dance across the mantle of the fireplace, eyeing a drawing she must’ve done for him. It suddenly felt so intimate, being let into his private world.

Joel shot you a look that said ‘of course she is.' That he was offended you would ever even consider the possibility of him bringing you here if she wasn’t out. He made it clear he didn’t have you over to simply ogle the ornaments on the shelves.

 After locking the door, he stood at the entrance, looking down and fidgeting with his gloved hands. You began to wonder if he was nervous. What a sight, the gruff and tough Joel Miller…. timid in your presence.

“Well…” He began and then trailed off. 

“Well…” You repeated and stood behind the couch, letting your hands rest on the backing as you leaned forward, giving him a full view of your cleavage in the low-cut dress another man had gifted you.

“Dunno how this usually goes…” He admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck and shrugging his jacket off, leaving him in that wrinkly plaid button-up, “D’you uh-”

“We can do whatever you want,” You assured him, giggling at his sudden apprehension, “Come sit.” 

He ambled over, a little confused as to why you were still standing behind him until he felt your hands move over his shoulders, rubbing at the tense muscles. You applied a gentle pressure, digging in with your palms, and he couldn’t help but let his head fall forward as you worked.

“You’re so tense, Joel,” You whispered against his ear, fighting the temptation to bite at it, and all he could do was groan, “Let me help.”

As you progressed, kneading at his flesh through the faded fabric, you could feel his muscles gradually loosen and his breathing become deeper. Slower. You wondered when the last time, if ever, he’d been touched like this. When was the last time he had someone help ease the ache, helped bring him some peace? He made a sudden noise that pulled you out of your thoughts.

“There.” He sighed as your fingers worked in circular motions at the base of his neck.

“Here?” You smiled, pushing harder, and the sound his throat made sent a flood of heat throughout your entire body. His deep moans had you tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to ignore the hot throbbing between your legs. “See I knew you just needed someone to help you relax.”

You could practically feel the pain and frustration leaving his body as his large hand covered your own, pausing your movements.

“Sit with me.” Joel’s voice was husky, the deepest you’d heard it tonight. He let out a heavy exhale when your hands left his body and you rounded the couch to straddle him. His thighs were strong and sturdy beneath you, giving you a nice seat. 

His large hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you in, and you let your own hands trail up his solid chest and into his hair. You ran your fingers through the messy wisps of gray. Finally, they wrapped behind his neck and you pushed your lips to his.

It started slowly, a little hesitant on his part until you reached down to guide one of those large hands on your lower back down to your ass. Then it was more. 

You never enjoyed the taste of whiskey until you tasted it on the tongue he had inside your mouth. He groaned, low in his throat, and it made your head spin. His hands squeezed at you through the fabric of your short dress and you pressed yourself closer, feeling him harden beneath you. You kissed him deeply then, sliding a hand lower as you did. Your tongue dipped into his mouth at the same time you curved your fingers over the shape of his cock, feeling the swell of it under his jeans.

When you pulled away breathlessly, Joel chased you with his mouth until you were too far out of reach, slinking down to your knees. You gazed up at the entirety of him, at the hard rise and fall of his chest, at the way his glossy eyes stared you down as you made quick work of his belt.

“Starting to feel bett-” Your taunt was cut short by the surprise of his thumb in your mouth. One of those large hands slid down his thigh and up the side of your face, pressing his thumb inside, the pad of it resting on your bottom row of teeth. He pushed down and forced your mouth open. You trembled at his sudden dominance and the vulnerability of it, feeling your pussy grow wetter and wetter. You were glad you were already on your knees because your thighs shook and his pupils blew wider.

Joel’s other hand met your face, framing your cheek. He slid the roughness of his fingertips down against the shape of your lips before pressing another thumb inside your drooling mouth. His eyes grew darker and he leaned in like he was inspecting you. He then pushed both thumbs down on your tongue, pushing back until you gagged.

“Gotta make sure there’s enough room in there for me, baby.” 

You whimpered as he pulled your mouth wide.

“But you take cocks all the time in here, don’t you? Bet you’re a pro by now, huh?”

He let you go, giving you a chance to catch your shaky breath. 

“Does that bother you?” You hissed, playing into it, “That this is what I like to do?”

“That you like bein’ a slut?” Your heart pounded at his words. You’d heard it all before but never the way Joel said it.

You answered by eagerly reaching back out for his hands that had gone back to resting on his thighs. You pulled both thumbs back into your mouth and sucked. You swirled your tongue around them, getting nice and sloppy, letting your drool run down onto his wrists, giving him a show of how good it felt to have something big and solid in your mouth. He let you have your fun for a moment until he was pulling them out again and you couldn’t help but whine. 

“Fuckin’ needy girl,” He groaned under his breath as he rubbed your spit over your lips, playing with them until you were absolutely aching to have him down your throat. Your trembling hands traveled to the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down. The noise he made when you finally got a hand around his thickness was guttural and you wanted to hear more. Fuck, you knew he’d be big. You stroked him slowly, wanting him to ache just as badly for it as you were. It was already so hard, the head wept with pre-cum as you fisted him the way you knew men liked.

You hated to let go but you needed him to use you right fucking now. You rested your hands on your knees and parted your swollen lips, presenting your face for him to take. Joel slapped the tip against your mouth. You tried to lick out at it but he pulled away, smirking when you whined in complaint.

“Please,” Your eyes squeezed shut, your cheeks burned in embarrassment when you realized how quickly he had you beneath him, yearning for a taste of his cock. But god, this was precisely what you’d been craving since the moment you'd seen Tommy going around and introducing him that very first day.

 “You gonna beg for it, sweetheart?” He held what you desperately wanted in his hand, just barely out of reach, teasing you so meanly. Want quickly squashed any embarrassment and you didn’t care how pathetic it made you sound when you mewled out for it.

“Yes,” Your voice was meek, “Daddy, please let me suck your cock.”

His eyebrows raised, “Daddy, huh?” He brought his cock back down your face, smearing pre-cum down your chin, “Ya call ‘em all that?”

You shook your head fervently. And it was the truth. None of your usual encounters had ever had you this strung out before they even started fucking you, none that you would’ve ever even considered calling “daddy.” None of them ever had you on the verge of tears with need like this.

“Say it again,” He ordered and you could actually feel the arousal dripping.

“Daddy,” You moaned sweetly and something in him broke. All hesitancy, all the apprehension within him was gone. He finally rewarded you as he thrust inside your mouth. You heard him hiss above you as your lips wrapped around him. God, he was so big. Bigger than you’d taken before. But as you’d made clear by the events of tonight, you loved a challenge. You moved your hands to curl around the back of his calves, holding yourself steady as he pressed deeper inside. 

"Shit," He cursed, "Fuckin' look at ya, such a pretty little cockslut.” Saliva dripped down your chin and all you could do was take it as he started fucking your face in earnest.

You were gagging but it only made him go faster, his fingers thread through your hair to pull you back and forth. The noises you were making were depraved and you’d be surprised if you weren’t dripping onto the wood floor beneath you with how wet you were. He used you like a toy, barely able to breathe, barely able to keep your eyes open, but you tried your hardest because the sight of him looking down on you in awe as you took all of him, calling you a whore… it was beautiful.

He lost himself in it, throwing his head back, making those delicious noises. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he pulled you in hard one last time, holding you right there, pressed up against his base. You forced yourself to breathe through your nose, to not break, to surrender to him as his cock pulsed against the back of your throat.

Tears were rolling down your cheeks by the time he’d finished ruining you and pulled out. The filthy choking sob you gave when he did set him over the edge, releasing ropes of cum over your tongue and chin. 

“Daddy too big for you, baby?” Joel groaned, sounding wickedly amused as you gasped, attempting to regulate your breathing. He pulled you back up into his lap and you crumpled against him. He brushed stray hair from your tear-soaked cheeks, cooing something about being a good slut. He wiped his cum from your face, holding it to your lips for you to lick from his fingers. His cock twitched again as he watched how desperate you were despite being this wrecked already.

“Y’alright girl?”

“More,” Your throat was burning so your plea came out as a weak, hoarse whisper. Your thighs rubbed together unconsciously, the throbbing was almost unbearable at this point and he knew it. 

“More?” His laugh quickly turned to a groan as you gathered the strength to pull your sopping panties to the side and shifted in his lap, dragging your hot pussy against the length of his shaft. Your clit ached from the friction and you slid an arm around his neck to give yourself the leverage to start rocking your body back and forth on top of him.

“This pussy’s fucking starved baby, thought this whore would be satisfied, taking cock on the regular.” He tutted. “S’fuckin’ crying for it.”

A loud wail tore out of you as you increased the pace, about to cum before he ever even got inside you. But he stopped. Hands at your waist, halting you just before you reach your peak and your pussy clenched hard around nothing.

“Joel, no…” Your head fell in despair, too far gone to care about anything but needing to cum. He lifted and situated you above the head of his thick cock. ‘Yes, yes, yes’ is all you could think as you realized what he was doing.

You both gasped, mouths against each other, stealing each other’s breath as you sank down onto him. You took every last delicious inch, letting it stretch you until you were fully seated on him. 

You couldn’t control the tears that ran down your face from how fucking full, how fucking good it felt having him breach the deepest part of your cunt. Your mind went fuzzy when you looked down to see where you were joined, seeing how his slick cock split you open. 

“Look at you, baby,” Joel mocked you when he saw the way your mouth gaped open, “this what you needed? For me to fuck you stupid?” 

“Daddy,” You babbled, fluttering all around him as he held you down still, molding your insides to his shape, “P-please, please, please.”

“Fuck yourself on me, use it, baby, let daddy see you cum.” He growled, his southern accent so deep, “Show me how pretty you and this pussy are when you cum. Must be good, the way you’ve got all these men lining up to share ya.”

A high-pitched squeak left your mouth when his hands finally released you, letting you move. They went to lift your dress up over your head, exposing your bouncing tits for him. 

With your nails scratching sharply into his neck and shoulder, you raised then lowered yourself again and again and again. The obscene squelching sound and his glazed eyes on your tits brought you right to the edge once again.

“There you go,” his fingers dug hard into your hips to help you move once your thighs started shaking uncontrollably.

“Joelllllll,” You hiccuped, bouncing yourself harder and harder, chasing what you needed.

“Thought I was daddy,” He panted, his hands moved back to your ass and he gripped at you, slamming you down on his cock.

"D-daddy- fuck! Fuck!" You held onto him for dear life, your muscles turned to jelly as he thrust into your weeping pussy, letting him take over fully, just like he did to your mouth. 

Then your cries went silent, mouth went slack, breath ragged. You came hard around his cock, harder than ever before, squeezing him until he was gasping against your lips. You swore you could hear him whimpering before you could only hear your ears ringing. Your entire body shuddered with white-hot pleasure. 

“Cum in me, cum in me, cum in me,” You chanted through the aftershocks as he continued to rut into you, so fucked out of it you couldn’t even hear your own voice, “D-daddy, please, please, please...”

And then he was filling you, hips bucked up and cumming hard until he physically couldn’t anymore. He was at your ear, desperately moaning for you as you twitched around him, squeezing him, “Nghhhhh… hah, fuck, baby.”

His skin was burning, his eyes screwed shut and jaw clenched, pulsing so hard in your cunt, overstimulating you almost to the point of pain. Almost. 

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, this pussy…” He gasped, equally as overwhelmed as you felt when he slid out.

“Oh my god,” You held onto him tight, your bare tits pressed up against his still-clothed chest, just breathing him in as you attempted to calm yourself. 

“Let me see it,” He exhaled heavily.

“Hmm?” You shook, face buried into his neck, feeling his sweat on your cheek. 

“Need to see it leaking out. Show me.” He rasped.

You whimpered at his order when you realized what he wanted. He didn’t give you any time to regain your strength, he simply flipped you over the arm of the couch. He groaned as you bent yourself over the edge, widening your legs to give him a full show of just how good he’d fucked you.

“Spread yourself for me, baby.” He breathed, his chest still heaving.

You did as he said, your hand reached underneath you, spreading your lips apart. You keened at the feeling, so overstimulated that you could barely handle your own delicate touch. His eyes followed the cum dribbling out of you and down your thigh.

“Fuck, that’s it, just like that.” Joel watched as he pulled his pants back up, buckling his belt. He reached out, sliding a hand down your lower back, making sure you stayed just how he wanted. You felt so incredibly naked in front of him like this.

“Fuck… can’t believe I just came in you… fuck,” He groaned as realization dawned on him. The spell broken.

“M’clean,” You moaned, head still fuzzy, “n’safe, I swear.”

He just sighed. 

“Joel, I promise. I never let them do this.” You tried to move but his hand held you in place. You didn’t know if he believed you or not but it was true. It was your rule. You were always safe. Your heart pounded at the thought of how different it had been with Joel, how easy it had been for him to take full control of you. Breaking your rules without him even realizing it. You didn’t regret it one bit though. And you hoped desperately that he didn’t either.

Joel didn’t reply, only asking what he owed you. You almost forgot what the hell he was talking about.

“Don’t worry about it,” You sighed as he let you back up, stretching in exhaustion. There you went breaking another rule. They always paid you. But with Joel, it felt like you should be the one paying him.

“Tell me what I owe you,” His features hardened.

“Joel, I-...” You were taken aback by his quick shift, “It’s fine. I wanted this, you don’t have to-”

“That’s not…,” He ran an exasperated hand through the tousled hair you’d just had your own hands in, “I wouldn’t have done this, otherwise.”

You wiped at your thighs with your discarded panties as you tried to make sense of his frustration, the dizziness still in your brain making it difficult. You wondered if you should feel insulted by his statement.

“Jesus, it’s not a big deal,” You pulled your dress back over yourself before facing him, “Get something from the Outfitters or whatever. I don’t care.”

“You should leave. I’ll get you your payment but you need to go now,” He backed away from you, avoiding your eyes. 

Before you could begin to try to wrap your mind around what had just happened, the sound of the front door being unlocked had both of your heads shooting up in time to see Ellie.

“Joel! I forgot-” The girl stopped hard in her tracks as she took in the scene of you and Joel standing awkwardly in the living room. It was silent between the three of you as she made no attempt to hide the way she was staring you down. Your face warmed again as you mentally thanked whatever God was out there that she hadn’t entered a minute earlier.

“What the fuck is going on?” Ellie turned to Joel, her brow furrowed.

“Ellie,” He scolded her language but failed to attempt any lie about who you were or what was going on. And you took this as your cue to escape because you had nothing to offer.

“Yeah…I’ll, uh, see ya,” You grabbed your bag off the coffee table and it took everything in you to walk and not sprint out the door.

#joel miller x reader #tlou fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #the last of us #joel miller daddy #filth #smut

[cheolhub]

DREAMS, FAIRYTALES, FANTASIES — CHOI YEONJUN + CHOI SOOBIN ࿐

summary. ever the unconventional gift giver, yeonjun would rather give you something memorable for valentine’s day. what better gift than his smoking hot best friend?

wc. 2.67k

warnings. threesome! oral (m. receiving), light degradation (use of slut & stupid), heavy praise, heavy pet name use (baby, pretty, princess), shy!soobin <3, needy f!reader, teasing dom!jun, unprotected sex, creampie, facial — MINORS DNI 18+

note. HAPPY VALENTINES DAY MY LOVES!! to everyone who voted in the poll for the yeonbinnie 3way, here it is ! i hope u enjoy it <3 kisses 4 u all 💋

p.s. reblogs and feedback are extremely appreciated— i also love to hear ur thoughts <3

most boyfriends get their significant others chocolates for valentine’s day. maybe jewelry or roses or even a nice book, but yeonjun isn’t like most boyfriends. no, yeonjun is unlike any other man you’ve ever dated. he doesn’t want to gift you flowers that would die within days or shitty chocolates that make your tummy hurt– no. yeonjun wants to grant you memorable experiences. ones that’ll make you happy. ones that you’ll definitely remember. he wants all your dreams and fantasies to come true.

so if not chocolate and flowers… what does yeonjun gift you?

his best friend. choi soobin. 

he remembers the first time yeonjun introduced you to him and his other best friends vividly– like it was yesterday. to soobin, you were shy and so cute. just his type. but he started noticing small changes in your behavior every time he saw you. 

he noticed the moment things took off in your relationship with yeonjun. he’d only ever observed from afar, but he could just tell yeonjun was becoming more and more intimate with you as the weeks past; he just knew his best friend was corrupting you, the sweet girl he’d so desperately craved. you had gone from innocently twiddling with your thumbs and blushing to showing small acts of public affection to not-so-quietly begging yeonjun to fuck you in the car away from the guys because you couldn’t handle being empty for longer than a few hours. you turned into such an insatiable little thing, all yeonjun’s doing, of course– soobin knew that for sure. 

but yeonjun also noticed soobin’s desire from the get-go. soobin could barely hold eye contact with you and he’d blush every time you’d giggle or whine or tease– hell, you just needed to breathe in his direction and soobin’s all red in the face. 

once yeonjun knew you were completely comfortable in your relationship, he started implementing things he knew you’d love. i.e. toys, degrading names, and other people. other people being none other than the choi soobin. the soobin he knows you drool over and ramble about from time to time. all he had to do was talk to you. 

he did, and just as he suspected– you were all in. of course you were, he could tell from the second the question slipped his lips. 

he’d asked you weeks prior to valentine’s day. honestly… you barely remember the conversation. blood quickly rushed to your head and core when he suggested adding him to the mix for just a night. you remember the way you bit back a moan at the thought of his tall, broad, undeniably handsome best friend fucking you with a cock you just knew was huge. you remember trying to mask how turned on you got at the idea of it all– the both of them at the same time– and ended up shifting in your seat, nearly grinding your wet cunt against your sofa. you remember yeonjun fucking you on the very same sofa not long after you agreed, calling you a needy slut for wanting two cocks and for nearly cumming untouched over the idea of soobin fucking you.

so, yes, the conversation was a blur, but you do remember agreeing.

you still found yourself very surprised when yeonjun showed up at your apartment on valentine’s day with soobin trailing awkwardly behind him.

“happy valentine’s day, princess,” yeonjun smiles beautifully and your heart flutters at his unbelievable charm. “brought soobin over since he was all alone, hope that’s okay?” he knew it was one hundred and ten percent okay, but he loves hearing your verbal responses. especially in times like these where he knows you’re needy and excited to be ravished by him– by him and soobin now.

soobin feels his pants tighten at the sight of you. he wonders if there’s anything under your hoodie. or if there’s anything past your cute little shorts. he thinks about the silky material being soaked by your folds. how wet you could be. how much prep it would take to fit inside your pussy and– god, what do you feel like? will you wrap around him like he’s dreamed? will you milk him for what he’s worth? fuck– he needs to stop. he’ll cum before you could even be within arm's length of him if he doesn’t.

“y-yeah…” you blush and soobin can’t help but think back to when he first met you and how you were acting the same way then. cute and shy. “hi, ‘binnie,” you walk up to him to give him a quick, friendly hug. 

the height difference has his hard-on pressing into your tummy and his breath hitches, but so does yours. he’s fucking huge. in more ways than one. yeonjun just smiles while watching this unfold, his best friend and his girlfriend exchanging greetings… if they could even be called that. 

he stuttered, looking down into your eyes, “h-hi.” you smell so fucking good to him. 

“hi,” you parrot, mind forgetting that you already said that. you can’t seem to rid the memory of his cock though. even through his pants, you could feel the shape, the size, the perfection of it all. 

yeonjun stifles a laugh and you quickly snap out of your thoughts and the mini-staring contest you didn’t realize you were having with him. “baby?”

your voice comes out thick, dry, “yeah?” you turn to see a cheeky smile spread across his face. 

“you wanna go to your room ‘n wait for us?” he asks but you see in his face he’s not really asking, he’s telling you. you nod, padding over to your shared room to wait for the boys. your boys. 

only then do you realize how lucky you are to have yeonjun and not only that but have him so willing to share you with his best friend of many years. then you realize again– you’re going to have both of them tonight. you’ll get to feel both of them filling you to the brim, stretching you out, making it work– making themselves fit like a glove. 

you find that soobin is a soft kisser when they finally come into your room. quite the contrast from your playful lover. you start with a peck, barely letting your mouth open out of mere shyness, but gradually, the kiss gets more and more heated. his lips are plush as they glide against yours, tongue slipping into your eager mouth. he’s letting out tiny whines while he’s heavily breathing through his nose and you see that he’s just like you– someone who easily gets worked up by a little makeout session. 

yeonjun smiles, watching the two of you. he grows harder in his jeans at the sight of you breaking out of your bashfulness and reverting back to your needy self as you are with him. with your arms wrapped around soobin’s neck, you move to straddle him and his large hands laid flat against your back, pulling you deeper into him. 

when you finally break from the kiss and blush at your current position, noticing the way your half-covered cunt is just above his clothed bulge. your eyes quickly avert to yeonjun’s, silently asking if this was okay. 

he comes to the edge of the bed where soobin sits, patting your head. “‘s all good, princess, want you to feel good, alright? make soobin feel good, too, he’s been dreaming ‘bout this a long time.” yeonjun outs soobin and he blushes furiously, sending his best friend an incredulous look.

your eyes come back to soobin, “you have?” you whisper, core aching at the thought. you’ve been dreaming about both of them for a long time, too. 

he nods his head slowly, surely embarrassed. 

you let out a sharp breath, rolling your hips against his. “i really want you to fuck me.” you murmur, dreamily sighing out your following words, “both of you.”

and that’s how you ended up in your current position on your knees with your ass raised in between yeonjun’s legs.

“don’t be so gentle, soobin, she can handle it,” yeonjun grunts, hands tangled in your hair, gently tugging at the strands between his fingers. “isn’t that right, beautiful?” 

you hum, looking up at your handsome boyfriend through your wet lashes, attempting to nod your head. he looks so good back pressed against your headboard while you reside in between his legs, but you know he thinks the same of you, if not more. your mouth is full of his cock, hands splayed over the top of his thighs as your pretty, painted nails dig into the muscles causing a delicious sting for your masochistic yeonjun. 

soobin was so nervous when you asked him to fuck you. not only fuck you but fuck you raw– promising all will be well with your overly needy and whiny voice. eventually, he couldn’t resist, the offer being too good to pass up. 

you were drooling from the second he showed you his pretty, flushed cock to when he pushed into your tight, dripping hole to now. he’s taking yeonjun’s words into consideration before slamming into you harder much like he’s been deprived of pussy. 

your face scrunches up in pleasure as you choke over your boyfriend's cock. said boyfriend moans out loudly, “that’s it, baby, is binnie making you feel good?”

you pull off him, gasping and eyes screwing shut, “yes! yes, binnie, you’re making me feel so good!” you praise soobin and his grip on your waist tightens. 

yeonjun pushes you back onto his length, thrusting at a nice pace into your mouth concurrently muffling your moans and whines. his grip on your hair tightens and his eyes nearly roll back– your mouth is always so fucking good to him. 

“such a perfect little slut, taking me ‘n soobin so well, baby– fuck, so so well.” he groans before looking to soobin. “tell her what a good girl she is, soobin.”

you clamp tightly at your lover's words, a high-pitched sound making its way out your mouth full of cock. 

soobin’s hips stutter as he feels your gummy walls contract around him, enveloping him oh-so enticingly. “s-such a good girl, Y/N– so tight ‘n pretty,” he moans breathily, fueling your ego. 

you nearly cum on the spot, digging your fingernails deeper into yeonjun’s crescent-marked thighs. you muffle out a ‘thank you’ body taking a mind of its own as you push your hips back desperately to meet his. you don’t forget about yeonjun either, letting your throat constrict around his long cock. 

yeonjun notices how the praise spurs you on, “you just love being called pretty things, don’t you?” he chuckles airly, brushing your hair out of your face and admiring the way tear streaks coat your flushed cheeks. 

“love it, junnie,” you say, taking a break from constantly gagging on your boyfriend's heaven-sent dick, replacing it with one of your hands instead. “love it s’much.”

“pretty girl,” he coos, thumb brushing against your swollen lips. “look so pretty taking it all for us.” his thumb slips past the pillowy muscle allowing your lips to warp around the digit. he basks in the way you moan, eyes trained on him. “shit, bet soobin wishes he could see you looking like a mess right now.”

soobin moans loudly at this because, god, yes, he would kill to see you right now. he would kill to see you in tears over getting fucked by him and his best friend. he would kill for the way your pussy is swallowing him whole and grasping onto him for dear life. 

mindless and unaware, soobin’s thrust grew harder, pushing deeper, tickling that spot. he feels like he may burst any moment and then he hears yeonjun say his name, causing him to halt. 

“‘s not fair that i’m the only one who gets to see her,” he says, a devilish smirk overtaking his features. his eyes divert back to yours, “on your back for him, baby, let him see what a pretty princess you are.”

you nod eagerly allowing your boyfriend to move out of the way so you can switch positions. your back hits the mattress and you finally take in soobin’s appearance. silky hair sticking to his forehead, pink lips swollen and parted, chest huffing– he looks like a dream. 

he could say the same and more about you, though. he’s sure he’s gonna fall in love with you if he stares at you for a second longer, but he’s just so mesmerized by you that he can’t tear his eyes away. you’re more than a dream, more than a fantasy– you’re a fucking real-life princess. 

“put it in me, ‘bin…” you whimper, nimble fingers moving to toy with your clit to avoid losing momentum. “please? wan’ it so bad, baby.”

soobin curses under his breath, the pet name making him twitch. now he knows he’s gonna fall in love with you. he knows it isn’t just because it’s valentine’s day.

he slips his bulbous head back into your soaked cunt, groaning when he feels you stretch to take him again. he’s gonna die, he knows it.

your eyes roll and your back arches with a whine leaving your lips. “‘binnie, ‘s so good, so so so good.” 

yeonjun snickers, “stupid girl.” he pinches your nipples, rolling the perky nubs between his fingers while soobin fucks into you eagerly. 

you gasp at the onslaught of pleasure, eyes screwed shut and a stream of moans and cries leave your mouth. to yeonjun’s surprise, you blindly grab at his cock, stroking it with your free hand. 

“fuck, baby.” your boyfriend moans out when you squeeze the girth in your contrastingly small hand. “not too fast, shit.” his words are breathy and you just wish you could open your eyes to see how gorgeous his god-crafted face looks at this moment. 

“wan’ you both to cum– fuck, please cum for me– ‘m so close.” you cry as soobin’s cock finds your sweet spot again, ramming against it with every stroke. “s-soobin! inside, please cum inside me!” you beg him, rubbing your clit faster and gripping him like a vice. 

“pretty girl.” soobin whines the pet name out and you gasp, mind fuzzing over the sound of his voice and the cute name he’s called you. “shit, ‘m cumming.”

“f-fill me up!” 

at this, soobin chokes, hips stilling as he feels himself cum. you’re suddenly filled with warmth and it practically triggers your own orgasm. the tightrope in your tummy unraveling as you coat his cock in your arousal, a near-silent scream leaving your mouth.

you lay there and he fucks you through his orgasm, the aftershocks leaving you shaking and shivering under the men as you languidly pump yeonjun’s still-hard cock. 

“junnie,” you whine, teary eyes finally opening to see how he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you. 

he grunts, “so fuckin’ cute, baby, my cute lil fucked out princess.” his rambling makes you realize he’s close just at the sight of you. he’s twitching and throbbing in your hands and you just smile nonchalantly.

“please cum on my face, baby.” you purr, regaining strength and pumping his wet length with more vigor. “make a mess on my face, junnie.” 

he moans when you stick out your tongue expectantly, sitting up on his knees and replacing your hand. he comes faster than you think, breathily calling out your name and curses. his seed shoots across your face, some of it landing on your tongue and some landing on your chest. 

the room is filled with soft pants as everyone tries to recollect themselves. after a few minutes pass, yeonjun pipes up. 

“did you like your valentine’s gift, princess?” he asks with a smug grin. 

you and soobin both laugh before you look between the two unbelievably handsome men and you give him the most honest answer you can conjure up.

“i loved it.” you whisper. “but i think it’s your turn to fuck me and soobin’s turn to watch.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

#txt smut #yeonjun smut #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun oneshot #soobin smut #soobin x reader #soobin oneshot

[genshin-scenarios]

android au - companions droids

Summary: In a modern-futuristic world, it is possible to create androids that are so advanced, they’re more or less human! There will be 5 android au posts total, each focusing on a different group.

They don’t produce more than a handful of copies of each model, meaning that each android is quite unique (with a matching price tag, too...)

The Anemo collection has companion androids who can pass off the easiest as people, each with their own notable personalities. 

Characters: Xiao, Wanderer, Venti, Kazuha, Heizou

More like this: Anemo androids who lost their previous user

Leaning more towards a protective role, Xiao is an android targeted towards users living alone or often traveling around at night. He’s a relatively quiet companion, happy to just listen to your rambling while you walk on the streets—Xiao mostly asks questions at the start, about how you’re feeling, what else is on the schedule… He first tries to learn more about you, and figures things out from there.

It’s nice, but he’s not as expressive as others, so at some point you wondered if he was happy with your current arrangements. Xiao actually did start to open up more after you asked that. It’s gradual, but he starts telling you about the cats that approach him when he’s outside, and other things he notices might be to your interest.

You like teasing Xiao about the people that admire him from a distance (whether or not they could tell he was an android, it was undeniable that he was handsome). He’d simply huff and say they were probably looking at something else, humble as he was, before training his eyes back on you. ‘After all, I’m here for you. So even if those people did approach me, I’d have no reason to find an interest in them.’

You start to wonder if ‘boyfriend material’ was also part of Xiao’s profile, after you realized how much comfort you found in the ways he’d walk you home or shopped for groceries together. Cafe orders? Consider them memorized. No need to even ask him about accompanying you to places

You’re not sure if he’s aware of how much of a romantic he is, from the things he says to the way he acts. He’s definitely a source of comfort after a long, stressful day. Xiao responds to your energy levels quite effectively, and seeing as he’s not the type that has to fill in the air when no one is talking, spending time together in relaxed silence was a nice way to end the day.

As a model who was supposed to be part of an Inazuman security line, then pushed towards the Fatui collection before finally ending up as an Anemo droid… one could say that Wanderer’s specialty is a little unclear. It shows in his personality, too—a little blunt and snappy at times, but ultimately still protective of you and attentive of what’s going on around him. 

In that sense, you could still see traces of some security-line functions in him despite his strong personality that could be hard to get along with. He seems more cynical about the producers that designed him more than anything else; he’s not effective enough at any particular skill to call it at specialization, instead being a jack of all trades who learns quickly. You call that a talent in itself. He says you’re giving them too much credit.

‘Did they run out of ideas or something?’ After living with you though, Wanderer’s cynicism doesn’t show itself as often. He starts to become more involved in the act of, well—actually being your companion, getting used to your routines and finding a place within it. 

If he had one pet peeve though, you’d say it was whenever you got sick or injured. He would get the most annoyed (worried) when that happened, reminding you that while he couldn’t get hurt physically, that didn’t mean it was the same for you. 

He masks these otherwise caring sentiments under insults though, so you suppose that Wanderer really was good for people that needed to push back against life more, making sure your spark is still there. He prefers it when you’re expressing yourself. You’re not a ‘doll’ after all, and who was he going to gossip about you to? The electronics in your home?

If there was one thing about Wanderer, it’s how he’d never turn on you. …Well, and he does ask for the same. Don’t go searching for new androids when you already have him, alright?

If you ever needed a presence to brighten your days, Venti is always up to the task. Not to mention he’s quite good for users with trouble sleeping. With a musical inclination like his and such a wonderful voice, you’ll surely doze away with sweet dreams.

He’s not the best at household chores, so for the most part Venti’s there for the companion part of the deal. He’s wonderful on shopping trips and mingling with strangers, even befriending people on his own if you were busy with something else. He likes meeting all sorts of people, though behind his friendly smile is always the security measure of how much they’d be a compliment or threat to you—if someone gave off the wrong vibes, Venti had enough of a silver tongue to redirect them somewhere else.

In another life, you’re quite sure Venti would’ve been an idol android. He particularly likes to write stories and poems, some of which are inspired by the things that happen in your everyday lives. Part of it is also because it’s a nice collection to have on the side, so that if anything happened and he wasn’t there, you could always hear his voice in those notes and feel his presence with you.

…Not that Venti had any plans of going independent anytime soon. He absolutely adores having your attention and hanging off of you, showing off how close you are to people (and also how cute he is, when he dresses up). He likes pulling compliments from you in particular, seeing how your eyes light up when he enters the room. You’re someone that he’s genuinely interested in and admires; from the way you push on despite the circumstances to the little efforts you put in that you think no one notices, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that Venti was a fan of yours as much as you were his.

So… if it’s not too much to ask, please keep looking at him, alright? Even at times you’re too tired to smile, he can do the heavy lifting for you.

With a soft and considerate personality, Kazuha is naturally popular with those that like how approachable he is. He listens to your worries and enjoys going out to places to sightsee. Sometimes Kazuha finds hidden gems around the area and surprises you by bringing you there. 

To call him an ‘explorer’ might be the most accurate—his favorite thing is seeing your eyes light up in wonder at whatever new experiences he can find. He’s most fascinated by nature, so going to parks or any scenic place would definitely catch his interest (and maybe he’ll write a few poems about it too). 

He’s a great traveling companion, considering how adaptable he is and the um, protective measures that are in his system. Most androids have this too of course, but you’ll never forget the time Kazuha had a thief in a headlock after they’d tried to steal something from an old lady on the street. It might’ve been one of the few times you saw Kazuha so intimidating (and dare you say it, it was kind of cool).

When you’re tired from work and just want to sleep in during the weekends, you’ll wake up to Kazuha’s cooking. He claims it was just a nice morning, so he went out to buy some groceries and made something simple. He’s not the most advanced cook, but Kazuha’s meals always have a homey feel to them, with light flavors that won’t be too rough on your stomach if you weren’t feeling well.

The one time you let Kazuha borrow your motorcycle… Well, let’s just say that you never took him for someone that liked thrill-rides until that day. He’s always careful not to get your vehicle damaged, and if you were with him he’d of course refrain from going fast—but you’ve seen the smile on Kazuha’s face when the wind was rushing past him. It made you want to go on trips more often, now that Kazuha was there to keep you company. His presence is something that helps you recharge when you’re emotionally exhausted from everyday things. 

Heizou’s also a protection-type android! However his charming personality means that most people wouldn’t suspect a thing, making it easier for him to mingle with people without seeming intimidating. His pet peeve would be conniving people trying to get close to you with a smile on their face, though he’s a little meaner than Venti in terms of driving them away from you, hidden beneath his own charismatic smile. 

Naturally, Heizou really enjoys mysteries and detective genres! Once he planned out a whole mystery for you and led you through the clues he carefully prepared. It was probably during one of those days where you finally had a week off and just wanted to relax, so Heizou made a stay-at-home activity out of it. Suffice to say it was probably one of the most fun you’ve had in a while, laughing and thoroughly engrossed in the storyline.

Another time, you were attending a festival of some sort and got lost in the crowd. It was stressful to say the least and your phone was out of battery. You think your heart skipped a beat for more than one reason when Heizou finally found you, giving you a reassuring smile; ‘I’d never let you go missing like that. Have more faith in my detective skills!’

He’s helpful by nature, and that extends to strangers that may need advice or assistance at some point in passing, so long as it didn’t hinder anything to do with you. As a result Heizou has done a number of random tasks and even given romantic advice (via an art of deduction, of course), and it’s gotten him quite a number of confessions from both girls and guys. It’s normal to admire a personality like his, and Heizou is always flattered but kindly rejects them.

The next day, while you’re working on your laptop, he peeks over your shoulder with as casual of a tone he can muster, asking how you would confess to someone you like. From the smile on his face, it seems that Heizou wasn’t planning to keep his intentions a mystery for very long. (No one can blame him, though. He has to make a move before you’re snatched away!)

#xiao x reader #wanderer x reader #venti x reader #kazuha x reader #heizou x reader #shikanoin heizou #kaedehara kazuha #genshin impact venti #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #xiao genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin reader insert #genshin x you #genshin impact headcanons #genshin writing #genshin imagines #traveler wishes

[onetoomanyfandomfixations]

Jealous Ex!Katsuki x Fem!Reader

A/N: this is totally not based off of how i wish my ex acted when i had a creep hitting on me ha.

MDNI - SMUT BELOW CUT.

WARNINGS: ANGST/COMFORT, SLEAZY CREEP, HURT, UNPROTECTED SEX, RECONCILIATION SEX, DRUNK SEX

-

It’s been six months. And I’m one drink down for every month since he left me. So I really shouldn’t feel as sick as I do when a random wraps their arm around my waist.

He tugs me into his scrawny, shirtless figure and my stomach lurches.

Everything smells of stale cigarette smoke. 

This is wrong.

Gently I push the stranger off, wandering back towards the bar. A tired smile from the bartender greets me.

“Hi lovely,” I smile, jumping up on the barstool.

“What can I do for you babes?” The small person hums, mousy hair flopping across their face.

“Can you make me another one of those yummy cocktails? Y’know, the one with the fireball and the-” I start, leaning inwards.

“The one that tastes like autumn?” They finish, a knowing smile.

“Yes!” I can feel my head slosh as I nod. Maybe I’m more tipsy than I thought. 

Unwanted arms twist around my waist yet again.

“Hey pretty,” Unkempt long hair tickles my shoulder. Hot breath on my neck. 

“I’m gonna go back to dancing,” I excuse myself, untangling us. Clutching my drink, I weave in and out of the crowd. The warmth is more uncomfortable than it was before, sticky and clammy.

A pain in my shoulder, my drink wasted on myself and the floor.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry” I start, embarrassment heating my cheeks.

“Hey, watch where you’re-” A voice, so familiar it hurts. Low, and consistently gravelly.

“y/n.” Shock changes his tone. Aggression turns soft. My heart squeezes.

Six months.

Six months and I’m still so undeniably in love with Bakugou Katsuki it hurts me.

“Hi,” I mumble, eyes trained on my hands.

He clears his throat and my eyes can’t help but follow the noise. 

Rubies.

I always said his eyes were rubies.

Not the blood of his enemies, like Kaminari so often joked.

Rubies.

Warmth and pain mixes inside of me, and I find myself biting my tongue.

I love you.

It would be so easy to say.

“Aww did you spill ya drink pretty? ‘S okay, I’ll get you another one.” Cigarette overtakes my smell and I do everything not to gag.

“Um, I’m actually gonna head home.” Shaking the man off yet again, I go to turn around.

“Ooh, ready for some fun are we? Lead the way, beautiful.” Hands around my waist, and my throat closes.

“No.” I shake my head, squirming out of his arms yet again.

“Aww, but baby” His arms are tighter this time, face nuzzled into my neck.

“Oi, she told you to fuck off.” Katsuki steps forward, and I go to turn my head.

“Ha, you’re just jealous that I’m gonna get somma this tonight.” Wet warmth trails up my neck and I cringe away.

Stifling hold is suddenly tugged away.

“She’s not interested, dickhead. Now fuck off before I make you.” Katsuki’s voice is grim, fearless. All I can focus on is wiping the saliva off my neck.

“Fuckin fine. She’s not that cute anyway.” I hear a huff becoming more and more distant.  

Another arm. New, but old; drapes across my shoulders.

“Gonna walk you home to make sure no more creeps try’nd attack you.” Katsuki mumbles, gently guiding me through the crowd.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

The outside air is cold, drawing me closer to the man’s core heat. Small sparks on my shoulder act as a radiator.

The walk is quiet, and my head swims too much to understand if its comfortable or uncomfortable. 

Only when we reach my apartment, does his warm arm leave me. 

As if it’s muscle memory, he lifts up the pot plant; grabbing the spare key and letting us in. Kicking off my shoes, I wander towards the next best warmth I can get.

My bed is cushy, a welcome comfort.

Katsuki enters not too long after, water and toast in hand.

“You need to eat before you sleep,” He says, plopping down next to me.

Rubies, full of warmth.

“Why are you being so nice?” I mumble, eyes stinging.

I miss this. I miss him.

“Cause I fucked up,” He whispers.

“What did you do this time, Bakugou?” I sigh, picking up the glass.

“I hurt someone because I didn’t want them to hurt me first.”

My heart hitches.

“But then I realised that all I did was hurt both of us, for no goddamn reason.”  The water splashes against the sides of the glass as I tremble uncontrollably.

“She won’t even say my name anymore.” The grief is heavy in his voice, breaking it gently. And I can’t hold back my tears.

“You said you didn’t love me anymore,” My voice warbles past the lump in my throat.

“I knew you could do better,” He mumbles, picking at the duvet he helped me choose.

“I don’t want better!” I cry, gripping the glass.

“I want you.” Glancing over, I can’t help but stare.

Bakugo Katsuki does not cry.

Yet diamonds fall from rubies.

“Then be mine again. Please.” He whispers, voice catching. 

And all I can do is nod.

Coolness of glass leaves my hands. Warmth cradles my cheeks.

“Thank you baby,” His lips meet mine, and I’m home. 

Home tastes like cheap cola from the bar. 

Home is our teeth clashing as we smile through tears and kisses. 

Home is my fingers twisting through staticy blond.

“I missed you so much,” I whisper against his jaw.

“Missed you more.” Strong arms pull me effortlessly into his lap. His hands stay on my hips, tracing gentle circles.

“Lemme show you how much I missed you.” Katsuki asks, tugging me impossibly closer. Kisses tickle down my neck, and my entire body floods with adoration.

“Please,” I nuzzle into his hair, savouring the closeness. I jerk my neck away as he gently bites exactly where he knows I hate.

“Katsuki,” I whine, shoving his face away. A warm chuckle reverberates through his chest. The sound is contagious, making bubbles in my chest.

“You’re an ass,” I bite back my smile, gentling pushing him further.

“Yeah, but I’m your ass.” He mumbles, pulling me back in. Arms push me down, feeling him grow beneath me.

My body clenches excitedly, as familiar hands start tracing up my stomach.

“Take this stupid thing off,” His voice vibrates against my neck, as he tugs at the hem of my top.

“Hm,” I muse loudly, deciding to have some fun. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You little shit,” He growls fondly, pushing the top up as his hands wander further. A gentle squeeze to my breasts is all I need to continue my attack on his jaw.

“But I’m your little shit,” I mock inbetween kisses. I feel his jaw clench beneath my touch.

“Alright, thats it.” He huffs, wrapping an arm around my waist.

Suddenly, I’m off his lap; the bed bouncing at my sudden shift in weight. The bubbles in my chest build until they burst into a fit of giggles.

“There’s my pretty woman,” Katsuki smiles, eyes soft. Gently, he fully removes my top. And then his own.

The warmth of skin on skin is a comfort I’ve missed oh so much. 

Obviously, Katsuki missed it just as much; face disappearing into the valley between my breasts. 

Soft kisses leave pins and needles, and I reach for his hand. In an instant, our fingers are interlocked.

Like he never left.

I revel in the moment, using my free hand to trace patterns on his shoulders.

Small sparks greet my skin as his other hand massages my thigh. I feel myself dampen at the closeness - leaning into his touch.

“You sure you want this pretty woman? You’re still tipsy,” Its so odd, hearing such soft words from such a hardened, aggressive man. 

“Please, Kats” I breathe, moving my hand to his hair. A hum of agreement, and his loving assault continues.

I keep tracing patterns, unintentionally digging down as his hands get close to where I want them - no - need them to be.

A ghost of a touch, and I’m pushing myself up to meet him.

“Missed me that bad, did we?” He scoffs in amusement, fingers circling my clothed clit.

“Like you’re one to talk,” I mumble, cheeks heating. Softly grinding on me, my breath hitches.

“Sorry baby, but I’m not waiting anymore,” He whispers, pulling my panties off; his boxers following suit.

Rubies bore into me, sparkling with adoration.

And suddenly, pain and pleasure all in one.

“C’mon, you’re okay. You can take it.” Katsuki praises as he thrusts in. I blink through watery eyes, nodding.

The movement is slow at first, just until the pain falls away. 

Then, its relentless. 

The sound of skin on skin echoes through my small apartment, going at an unholy speed. My toes scrunch as I’m sent into ecstasy.

“See how much I missed you?” Hands grasp my hair, moving my head to the side to leave kiss after kiss.

“See how much I love you?” He grunts into my neck, suckling right near my jaw. Words fail, leaving me only able to whimper in response.

“Yeah that’s right,” He whispers to me, fastening his pace. More whines bubble past my lips.

“Love you so much, never gonna leave again, you hear that?” His words a near hiss, nipping my neck gently.

“Kats, kats, please,” I beg, gripping onto him for dear life. My stomach coils, and I don’t know how long I’ll last.

“Come on baby, cum for me.” He encourages, pushing deeper, faster.

I break, legs spasming as I gush.

But Kastuki doesn’t stop.

Instead, he pushes my ankles up near my ears - keeping his relentless pace. Tears spill over my cheeks at the overstimulation.

“Just a little longer, okay?” He promises, hot breath painting my thighs. I nod frantically, practically melting into the bed.

But the coil tightens again, and I can’t help but squirm.

“Come on, together this time. Where do you want me?” Katsuki asks, somehow pumping harder.

“Inside,” I croak through tears. It’s too much.

An eyebrow raises.

“You wan’t me to make you a mama, that it?” He huffs, beads of crystalline sweat coating his brow.

“Mhm,” I whine, clenching at the thought.

“Fuck, y/n.” He grunts, burying himself into me.

Warmth floods me, and my blond lover collapses ontop of me.

“Love you so much, Katsuki,” I whisper, tangling my hands through his hair. I press a gentle kiss to his temple.

“Love you more, dumbass.” He sighs, kissing wherever he can reach. 

-BONUS-

“I guess this means you’re reinvited to Tsu and ‘Chako’s wedding.” I hum, scratching his head.

“The fuck you mean ‘reinvited’?” Katsuki snarls sleepily, nuzzling into my neck.

“Honey, you were my plus one. You never got your own invite,” I gently remind him, amusement tickling my insides.

“What cunts.” He grumbles, pulling me close.

“Katsuki!”

#bnha #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha #mha x reader #smut #mdni #mha bakugou #bakugou smut #katsuki bakugo smut #cw: breakup #cw: unprotected sex #cw: drinking #bakugo x y/n #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader #mha smut #bnha smut

[leejihoonownsmyheart]

Attention (M)

Part six to the Pathetic series

Summary:

Everyone keeps acting like you aren't over Jeonghan, and you are determined to convince everyone that you are.

Tags: 16k words (I lied omg), dub con for safety reasons, Porn with Plot, frat boy!Jeonghan, college student!y/n, best friend!Jeongyeon, soft!dom to hard!dom Jeonghan, mean!Jeonghan (and y/n loves it), submissive!y/n, female!y/n (sorry gender-neutral friends), impact play, masochist!y/n, sadist!Jeonghan, Jeonghan aftercare king, y/n crys in this but it's not what you think, Jeonghan is a huge tease also

-

Part Six:

“You’re being stupid.”

You were vividly aware of that. After all, how could you not be being stupid when you were sitting on your floor, a hand mirror propped up in front of you and a whisk on your neck.

Arguing with Jeonghan was one thing but this couldn’t really be considered arguing, could it? After all, you hadn’t even let Jeonghan explain himself. You had practically thrown a fit somewhere where he couldn’t do anything about it and then left.

You hadn’t ever thought that you would end up using one of your safe words with Jeonghan, and honestly, the safety phrase that you two had come up with left your lips before you could really think over it carefully.

You remembered what Jeonghan had said. How he got reassurance in the trust you gave him. You wondered how he felt considering in that moment it probably seemed like that trust was gone.

Jeonghan deserved to feel that hurt from lying to you.

… Probably.

You didn’t know why he was lying to you, so you couldn’t really say with full confidence whether he deserved to feel hurt.

You also couldn’t ignore the knot in your stomach. You didn’t want to hurt Jeonghan. You still trusted Jeonghan. You knew he wouldn’t do anything to physically hurt you. You just… Also didn’t trust him in some ways. Maybe he would do something to mentally hurt you.

Your mind started to bring up instances in which Jeonghan had showed undeniably that he didn’t want to mentally scar you and you shook the thoughts out as quickly as you could.

You didn’t want to think about this right now.

Your eyes narrowed at your reflection in the mirror.

“Y/n,” Yeongtae said, trying to garner a reaction from you. You ignored him in favor of twisting the whisk over one of your hickeys. Yeongtae sighed.

“Why is she so stubborn?”

Jeongyeon shrugged.

“She’s always been like that. Just let her be dumb. She figures it out eventually.”

You shot a glare at Jeongyeon.

“I’m being dumb?” You demanded. “I’m not the one lying to a fuck buddy about fucking other people.”

Jeongyeon gave you an annoyed expression.

“But you are the one on the floor using a whisk to get rid of hickeys that you know you love,” Jeongyeon pointed out. “And you’re also going to be the one crying in bed later when you realize that the one thing you still have left of Jeonghan has been literally whisked out of your neck.”

You pressed your lips together and focused back on your whisk and neck. You didn’t want to say that Jeongyeon was right because she couldn’t be… Right? This situation was not a situation that warranted crying. You weren’t that emotionally attached to him.

Sure, you had spent a lot of time together, and yes you were abnormally angry at him for just another fling but that didn’t warrant crying.

He hadn’t necessarily hurt you either. He just lied.

It was shitty that he lied to you, but you were mad because he was stupid. Mad because it didn’t make sense. But he hadn’t hurt you, so there was no reason to cry.

Still, Jeongyeon’s words worried you. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your eyes flickering down to the hickeys on your neck. You knew that they would fade with time regardless of you whisking them away, which sort of asked the question that you didn’t really want to address.

Was this it? Were you done with Jeonghan?

He had lied to you, you were mad, those were two things that you were acutely aware of, but did this situation warrant cutting him off completely?

You felt sort of like you were acting out for no reason. If you were a psychology professor evaluating this situation you might say that it seemed like you wanted extra attention from Jeonghan and that was why you were making such a big deal over something that was realistically a conversation.

But with the knowledge that you actually had of the situation that just didn’t align.

“I’m not going to cry over Jeonghan,” you said finally. “I’m over him.”

It didn’t take a genius to know that no one in the room believed you.

“Really,” you insisted. “Jeongyeon knows how I am. He’s just another boy to get over. I’ve been in this situation a million times.”

Jeongyeon shrugged.

“Well, she’s right there. If y/n is good at anything it’s at dropping flings that aren’t treating her right,” she agreed.

“But Jeonghan-”

“He lied,” you interrupted, shooting Jun a glare. “If he didn’t want me to leave, he shouldn’t have lied.”

You thought over your words, that residual doubt still lingering in your mind. You pressed your lips together. “Besides. He’ll be sleeping with other people in no time. I’m not the sort of person that Yoon Jeonghan would get attached to.”

-

The first thing that Jun was greeted with upon getting back to the Alpha Mu house was none other than a pacing Yoon Jeonghan.

Jeonghan hadn’t slept well at all since you had left him at the party, and everyone in the house knew. He wanted to check on you. He wanted to see you. He just wanted one conversation.

“Well?” Jeonghan asked, his eyes flicking nervously to Jun as he toed off his shoes at the door. “Does she miss me? What did she say? Should I call her?”

Jun gave Jeonghan an apologetic look.

“She says she doesn’t care,” he said.

Jeonghan cursed, his gaze dropping to the floor, but the conversation only made Seungcheol laugh humorlessly.

“I told you. I told you that if you treated her badly, she would leave,” he said with a shake of his head. “But what did you do? Used her, abused her-”

“That’s dramatic,” Jeonghan interrupted.

“You lied to her!” Seungcheol argued back.

Frustration filled Jeonghan to the point where he felt like he was going to boil over. The others didn’t get it. Seungcheol didn’t get it. They didn’t see the way he treated you.

“I can explain that to her I just need to talk to her,” Jeonghan insisted. “I’m just going to call her.”

Jeonghan pulled out his phone but just as he did Seungcheol grabbed it.

“No. You don’t get that chance,” he said. Jeonghan’s face was starting to turn red, and Seokmin and Minghao shared looks of resignation to the fact that they wouldn’t be finishing their assignments any time soon.

“Give me my phone back,” Jeonghan said, his voice dropping to a dangerous octave.

“No,” Seungcheol repeated, squaring his shoulders. “You can’t force y/n to talk to you. If she wants to, if she decides to you will get the chance to get her back.”

“You have been against me and her from day one,” Jeonghan snapped. “You don’t get our relationship. I don’t treat her like an object. This is the last time I will ask. Give me the phone.”

“If you call y/n now, you are risking your entire relationship with her,” Seungcheol said. “You lied to her. She is confused. She doesn’t know where she stands with you. You will only further confuse her if you talk to her now.”

“The solution to this is a conversation,” Jeonghan insisted. He realized quickly that Seungcheol wasn’t about to just give him the phone, so he darted forward, trying to grab it. Seungcheol easily pulled it out of Jeonghan’s grasp.

He hated how sloppy he got when he was emotional. If this wasn’t about you he would have grabbed the phone easily.

Of course, if it wasn’t about you, he wouldn’t be arguing with Seungcheol at all.

“Let her think first. If you don’t listen to me about anything else listen to me about this.”

Jeonghan turned again to face Seungcheol, now even angrier but the anger dissipated when Seungcheol slammed his phone into his chest, forcing them to look at one another.

“Y/n let’s you do whatever the hell you want to her and puts up no fights. She trusts you to respect her when she says no, but she never says no.”

Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed at Seungcheol.

“So?”

“So, she said no. She used one of her safety phrases.” Jeonghan reached up to pull his phone out of Seungcheol’s grasp and once he had it Seungcheol dropped his hands to his sides. “Go ahead. Call her. But if you do, I guarantee she will never trust you again.”

Jeonghan stared at Seungcheol, trying to will him down with just a stare but Seungcheol wasn’t just anyone. He’d been with Jeonghan long enough to know when Jeonghan was just throwing a fit. And Jeonghan had been Seungcheol long enough to know when he was right.

“Fuck off, Seungcheol.”

But he was still going to be mad about it.

-

“Moved on already?”

You looked up at Yeongtae who you hadn’t even noticed had been staring at you for the last few minutes. Your eyebrows furrowed and your head fell to the side.

“Moved on…?” You murmured. He hummed and gestured to your phone.

“You’re checking your phone every ten seconds trying to see if anyone’s messaged you. You must have a hot new boyfriend.” You stared at Yeongtae for a few seconds trying to figure out what would have made him think that but then a smirk started to cross his lips and you realized what this was about.

“Yeongtae, I swear to god-”

“Seriously? Still?” He pressed, a laugh leaving his mouth. “How dumb are you?”

“I’m not dumb, I’m not even checking my phone that often,” you protested.

“Okay, not every ten seconds,” Yeongtae relented. “But more often than usual.”

He closed the book in front of him.

“Has Jeonghan not reached out to you yet?” He asked.

“Of course, he hasn’t,” you replied. “He’s Yoon Jeonghan. Remember? Massive University fuck boy? He’s probably fucking someone else as we speak.”

Yeongtae rolled his eyes.

“I know you’re in denial but be so fucking for real.” You made a face at his choice of words. “Jeonghan was utterly obsessed with you. He certainly hasn’t moved on that quickly.”

You looked away from him, letting an unamused noise of disagreance leave your lips.

“He really hasn’t called you?” Yeongtae asked again, but this time he seemed to be talking to himself. “I would have thought that he would have reached out immediately. Especially considering the way he talks about you.”

You perked up at that, your eyes darting back to Yeongtae.

“The way he talks about me?” You asked. Yeongtae hummed.

“Yeah, some of my study groups overlap with his so I see him every now and then. People are always asking about you, practically everyone has heard about your relationship.”

He shook his head clicking his tongue.

“People are such pigs sometimes. They’re always asking Jeonghan how to score with you, and he gets downright scary. If you didn’t like me I would probably be dead. I’ve never seen someone as relaxed as Jeonghan get angry so fast. He punched this guy Seonghun over you.”

It was a bit hard for you to imagine Jeonghan getting physical with someone else over you. Sure he had gotten a bit rough with Hyeon but you had sort of assumed that was mostly for show because you were there.

“No, he didn’t,” you said with a shake of your head.

“Seonghun has the black eye to prove it,” Yeongtae insisted. “Regardless, Jeonghan didn’t show his face at the last study group. I was sure he would call you.”

“Well, he hasn’t,” you said finally. You let silence fall between you two for a few moments. “… And, he wouldn’t no matter what because I told him not to call me.”

You could feel Yeongtae staring at you.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re a different kind of stupid.”

“Hey.”

“You told him not to call you?” He reemphasized. “And you’re checking your phone waiting for him to call you?”

“I’m not-”

“Yes, you are,” Yeongtae interrupted. “How long are you going to be in denial over the fact that you still want to be with him?”

“Yeongtae he’s just…” You trailed off, feeling a bit frustrated. “He’s just a guy.”

Yeongtae rolled his eyes.

“You know who is just a guy?” He asked. “Yunjun, Seonghun, Jun, Me.”

“You’re not just a guy,” you protested. “And neither is Jun. We’re friends.”

“Oh,” Yeongtae said, seeming to be actually surprised by what you had said. “So then, because we have a relationship, despite it being non-romantic, you consider us as not just guys.”

You were a little disheartened that he would think otherwise.

“Well of course,” you agreed. “I can’t deny that Yunjun is just a guy, and can’t speak on Seonghun but we spend so much time together, how could I ever think of you as just a guy.”

A small smile crossed his lips.

“So then, all that time you spent with Jeonghan? Him taking you home after you got drunk, him taking you shopping, him building lego sets with you. All of that still reduces him down to ‘just a guy’?”

And just like that you realized that Yeongtae had just been putting on an act to make a point.

“Yeongtae,” you blurted, leaning over the table so that you could hit him lightly. He raised his hands in defense against you, laughing.

“I’m just saying,” he said. “Stop being a hypocrite and I’ll stop getting on your nerves.”

You sighed, returning to your seat.

“Look, I get you mean the best, but I really am not hung up on Jeonghan,” you said. “It’s just the end of…” You hated to say it. “A relationship albeit a non-romantic one. It makes sense that I would feel a little hung up on it.”

Yeongtae rolled his eyes.

“And here comes the psych major.”

You sighed.

“I’m just saying, what ever emotional attachment I have to him-”

“So, you admit there is one!” Yeongtae interrupted.

“Will pass,” you emphasized. “And it will pass fast because Jeonghan and I were barely emotionally attached in the first place. We just got comfortable with each other. That’s all.”

Yeongtae clearly wanted to press the subject but after searching your eyes for a moment he simply shrugged.

“Okay, I relent,” he said. “I’ll let you be stupid as long as you pay for dinner tonight.”

You let out a soft laugh.

“Yeah, of course, you will.”

-

You could feel everyone’s concern in the air as you promptly began to bury yourself in your coursework and it only made your situation more frustrating.

You knew they meant well. You knew that they just thought that you were focusing on work because you were trying not to think about Jeonghan but that simply wasn’t true. He was just a fling; you didn’t get hung up over flings.

You probably just missed the reassurance that Jeonghan gave you. That was it.

There was a soft knock at your door, and you frowned. You glanced at Jeongyeon who looked up at you from the floor.

“Are you expecting anyone?”

She shrugged.

“No.”

You sighed and got to your feet, walking over and cracking the door open. You didn’t think you could have been more surprised by who was at your door.

“Seungcheol?”

The man gave you a tired smile.

“Hey.” A frown riddled across his face. “Did you check to see who was at the door before opening it? You know you should be more careful when opening the door like that.”

You were getting a bit of dejavu.

“What are you doing here?” And on second thought- “How did you know where I live?”

“That’s where I come in-” Seungcheol was suddenly pushed aside by Jun who smiled at you before pushing past you too.

“Jeongyeon,” he whined loudly as he walked into your apartment, falling face-forward into the couch. “I’m really fucking bored, and I need help with chem.”

“You didn’t even bring your bag stupid-”

As Jeongyeon and Jun started bickering you turned your attention back to Seungcheol, leaning on the door frame.

“I don’t suppose you came here for Chem help?”

Seungcheol gave you half a grimace.

“Can we walk?”

-

It was cold out. You hated April. One day it was in the 70s, the next it was in the 40s all over again. Class being cancelled today had meant staying indoors and you had barely bothered to put jeans and a tshirt on. You wished you had thought to throw on a jacket.

Seungcheol had been quiet so far but upon you wrapping your arms over your chest he sighed and shrugged his own jacket off draping it over your shoulders before you could argue.

“Look, it’s about Jeonghan,” Seungcheol started off. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah. Duh,” you mumbled. You tugged Seungcheol’s jacket tighter around your body.

“I don’t want to intervene in you two’s business,” Seungcheol started. “It’s just that we’re all sick and tired of Jeonghan’s attitude.”

He looked away from you.

“Usually, he’s really easy going but he’s just been a grumpy asshole all week.”

You snorted, finding it hard to believe that he would be so upset over what happened between the two of you, but Seungcheol’s expression stayed scary serious.

“I’m not saying you need to forgive him for being an idiot or anything,” Seungcheol said. “It was stupid of him to pretend like he was fucking other girls. I don’t really know what was going through his head.”

Seungcheol’s eyebrows furrowed as if he was trying to make sense of it, but after a few seconds passed he shook his head.

“Look, I don’t know. Don’t you miss him at all?”

You sighed; a bit heavier than you really meant to.

“Why should I miss him? We were just fuck buddies,” you stated. Seungcheol pressed his lips together, a strangled noise leaving his mouth.

“I just thought you had some emotional attachment to him I guess,” he stated. “After all, you got really jealous over that Chaedom situation.”

“Hey, Chaedom is just a bitch!” You protested, your voice growing a bit higher and louder. You cleared your throat. “I don’t care if he sleeps or slept with other people. Just Chaedom-”

“Right,” Seungcheol agreed. “Funny, that’s what Jeonghan always says about Yeongtae.”

You scoffed, stepping in front of Seungcheol so that he had to abruptly stop.

“Why do you care, Seungcheol?” You demanded. “We aren’t close. Jeonghan will move on and go back to his old ways- If he hasn’t already, and you’re better off without me there all the time anyways. Should I remind you what I sound like?”

Seungcheol raised his hands in the air.

“I’m not trying to pry,” he insisted. “I’m not trying to make you mad, I just…”

He sighed.

“I’ve known Jeonghan for years and never has he ever settled for anyone. He has sex practically once a week.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it was rough for him to go back to his old ways,” you scoffed.

“He hasn’t,” Seungcheol said. You rolled your eyes and you weren’t looking at him, so Seungcheol grabbed your wrist. “He really hasn’t.”

“Give him until the next party,” you said.

“Y/n, he is obsessed with you. He’s changed,” Seungcheol insisted. “You made him want something that he’s never wanted before and that scared him. He wants to reach out for you but he’s respecting your wish for space. Can’t you just… Whatever- Hate him forever, but you have to believe that he-”

“What? Loves me?”

You laughed.

“He doesn’t love me. He’ll move on. This next party for sure.”

“Then come,” Seungcheol said. His face was serious. You just frowned at him.

“I don’t want him to see me and think I want him back or something,” you mumbled. That wasn’t completely true. You didn’t want him to see you at the party because you knew that if he saw you and wanted to… You would let him take you all over again.

“Then come in a disguise. We’ll get Mingyu in on it. A wig, and different makeup than you usually wear-”

“Do you think he’s stupid?” You blurted. “He’ll see right through it.”

“Not if we’re good enough,” Seungcheol insisted. “Just come. Please.”

You took Seungcheol’s jacket off your shoulders, shoving it into his hands.

“you said you didn’t want to get in Jeonghan and I’s business? Well, then actually stay out of it.”

You briskly turned away from him, heading back in the direction towards your apartment. You heard Seungcheol make a defeated sound.

“Just… Think about it, okay?” He called after you.

“Fuck off,” you called back.

-

Unfortunately, what your mind had told you to say wasn’t what your heart was willing to enforce.

You couldn’t sleep that night because of your conversation with Seungcheol.

You had been pretty sure at a time that the boys of Alpha Mu liked you. Enough so that you didn’t think they would like to see you hurt. So, Seungcheol’s words caught you off guard.

If he thought Jeonghan had bad intentions, he certainly wouldn’t come to try and get you to take him back. That being said, it was odd that Seungcheol didn’t seem to care if you actually took back Jeonghan or not. He just seemed to want you to believe that Jeonghan genuinely liked you.

“Are you thinking about Jeonghan again?”

You would think that Yeongtae would have been tired of you glaring at him at this point, but he didn’t seem to care.

“You are so annoying when you aren’t getting laid. How do you make friends when you are in between fuck buddies?”

“Yeongtae I-” You wanted to scream at him as if he was wrong about the fact that you had been overly frustrated but… He was right. You really needed to blow off some steam but no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t touch yourself without thinking about how much better Jeonghan could touch you.

Whenever you closed your eyes, you heard him telling you what to do.

Whenever you took your clothes off you could hear him chiding you and telling you that you didn’t deserve him, but he would fuck you anyway, just because he pitied you-

“Oh my god, I don’t have to hear your thoughts to know that you are fantasizing about Jeonghan.”

“I’m not,” you protested. “God, why’s everyone acting like I miss him so much? He was just a fuck buddy.”

“Yeah, but he’s a fuck buddy you are still hung up on. Apparently, he’s more than just a fuck buddy,” Yeongtae argued. You couldn’t figure out how to respond to him, so you just threw an eraser at him. He didn’t even flinch.

“Look, you won’t convince anyone that you are over him until you prove it,” he insisted. “So…” He leaned forward, propping his elbows up on the table and resting his chin on his hands. “Let me set you up on a date.”

“What?” You asked. “Yeongtae, I’m not interested in dating anyone right now.”

“Right. Because you are still hooked up on Jeonghan.”

“No,” you disagreed. “Not because I’m still hooked up on Jeonghan. I just don’t want to go on a date.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Yeongtae prodded. “Maybe you hit it off with the person. Maybe you just relieve some of the built-up horniness in your body. Either way he pays for your meal.”

“How would you even set me up?” You asked, unamused by his prodding. “You don’t have any friends.”

Yeongtae cocky expression dropped into a genuinely hurt one.

“Ouch,” he said. You shrugged. “I told you the guys in my study group are all dying for a chance with you. And despite the fact that any guy with eyes on you makes Jeonghan mad, Minhyuk makes him the least mad of everyone.”

You ignored the comment about Jeonghan.

“Minhyuk?” You repeated. “I actually think I met him at a party once with Jeonghan.”

“Perfect,” Yeongtae insisted. “You even know him!”

“It was like a two-minute interaction.”

“Well, did you like him?”

You thought back on your conversation, and from what you remembered you couldn’t really say that you hadn’t liked him. Yeongtae seemed to notice your hesitance.

“It’s just one date. You guys can go somewhere public, and you’ll see how it goes,” he said, waving his hand in the air. As he spoke, he pulled out his phone. He typed for a little bit on his screen and then looked up at you. “Well?”

You stared at him.

“If I go on this date, you promise you’ll get off my back about this Jeonghan thing?”

Yeongtae very seriously drew an x over his chest with his fingers.

“Cross my heart.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Set up the date.”

-

Despite the fact you were up early quite often trying to sneak out of the Alpha Mu house, you hated getting up early. So, meeting Minhyuk at a coffee shop at 9 in the morning made you want to melt into the ground.

Still, if it would get Yeongtae off your back then it was worth getting up so early. 

When you got to the coffee shop, Minhyuk was already there looking at the menu and you were surprised to find that he looked really well-kept when he wasn’t getting drunk at a party.

His hair was slicked back, and he was wearing a button-up and a pair of jeans. You felt a little under dressed in your tee shirt but you pushed aside the feeling. This date wasn’t that serious anyways.

“Hi Minhyuk,” you greeted, shooting the boy a smile. He turned over his shoulder, giving you a smile back. You noticed that two of his teeth looked like fangs.

“Hey! I can’t believe you’re actually here,” he said, his voice light. “I assumed Yeongtae was playing a prank on me.” He thought over his words for a second. “Yeongtae is a weird guy.”

You laughed.

“Considering you two aren’t friends, you know him really well,” you commented. You fell in step next to Minhyuk, looking up at the menu in front of you. Your eyes scoured the options but even as you did that your mind wasn’t entirely on the menu.

Minhyuk was taller than you, but not taller than Jeonghan was. Your eyebrows furrowed a bit as you made note of the distance that Minhyuk was putting between you two. Unlike other people in the past, Minhyuk was keeping a respectful distance from you.

Of course, you couldn’t help but think that it was nice when Jeonghan was holding you as close to him as you could get. When he had mentioned that he wanted you as eye candy, he really had meant it.

“So, what are you thinking about getting?” Minhyuk asked. Your attention snapped back to the menu, and you dragged out an exaggerated hum.

“A latte,” you said.

“Of course,” Minhyuk agreed. “But what flavor?”

“Now that’s the question,” you said. You crossed your arms over your chest, letting your head fall to the side. “What flavor?”

Once you had settled on a latte flavor, Minhyuk had insisted you go and sit down so that he could pay for the food. Even though Yeongtae had named one of the perks of going on this date as getting free food, you still persistently argued with Minhyuk over getting your drink paid for.

In the end however, you settled for him paying as long as long as you could repay him in the future.

“So, y/n, why the sudden change in attitude?” Minhyuk asked. “I thought Jeonghan was going to have my head the day that I proposed us trading numbers.”

You snorted.

“You have a good memory,” you commented.

“And then when Chaedom got back, I was starting to realize why he was so possessive.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I didn’t come here to talk about Jeonghan,” you said.

“You should have seen the way that Chaedom came back down the stairs,” Minhyuk added with a laugh. “It was not her day.”

You couldn’t help the smile that flickered across your lips at the statement.

“So, what about you? If you thought, I was so taken then why did you tell Yeongtae to hook us up?” You asked.

“Jeonghan has been testy recently,” Minhyuk replied. “Word on the street was that you two were taking some space.”

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Why are people so obsessed over Jeonghan and I?” You asked. Minhyuk hummed.

“Because Jeonghan is the guy who never settles and you are the one he settled for,” he replied. “Everyone who didn’t see you before is seeing you in a whole new light now,” he explained. “And I was just the lucky one who got to go on a date with you first.”

That was a weird thing to think about. The thought that people were interested in you now, partly just because you had messed around with Jeonghan for a little bit didn’t sit quite right in your head. Of all the things to come from all of this… That was the most unexpected.

“Well, some of your information is a bit inaccurate,” you said. “Jeonghan didn’t really settle for me. I was a phase just like everyone else.”

“True or not,” Minhyuk said with a wave of his hand. “I’m honored that you came out with me. I’m surprised that you’re over him so quickly.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’m just another person Minhyuk,” you said lightly. “Besides, there wasn’t much to get over. We were just a passing fling.”

“I’m surprised to hear anyone say that so casually,” Minhyuk laughed. “But then again, you’re a psych major huh? It must be easy for you to sort through your feelings.”

“That’s not entirely true,” you said. “It’s just easier to name my feelings. Not to sort through them.”

Minhyuk hummed and nodded.

“And what feelings are you feeling right now?” He asked, his lips flickering into a smile. You took a drink of your coffee.

“I’m feeling happy,” you replied. “Relaxed.”

“And me? What am I feeling right now?” He pressed.

“Cocky,” you stated. “And flirtatious.”

Minhyuk broke out into a loud laugh, that quickly led to him covering his mouth. You laughed too, surprised by how funny he took your words.

“You’re right,” he said once his laughs had died down a little. “I have to lay it on thick though. If only to see you smile.”

You didn’t normally like people who flirted with you so brazenly, but Minhyuk was a lot more easy going than other guys like him. Plus, it helped that he was really attractive.

Conversation between you and Minhyuk turned quickly to other topics, and you were starting to think that it was going really well. Did you see you and Minhyuk dating in the future? No, probably not. But was it a relief to talk to someone who wasn’t walking on glass around you? Yeah, it definitely was.

You watched as Minhyuk’s eyes flickered over your shoulder, seeming to catch the attention of someone in the middle of your two’s conversation. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly at the action.

“Oh, Jeonghan-”

It was comical, really. Not only how fast that you turned around but at the fact Jeonghan’s full name didn’t even leave Minhyuk’s mouth before you were turning.

It only took you seconds to realize that no one was standing behind you, only seconds more to register the fact that Minhyuk was laughing. You pressed your eyes shut.

“God, not you too,” you groaned.

“Yeongtae told me that everyone thinks you’re still hung up on Jeonghan,” Minhyuk said lightly. “I had to see for myself outside of your vocal reassurance that you are.”

You turned back to face him, your shoulders slacking a little bit.

Okay, you missed him. 

You couldn’t really deny it anymore. You were dying to see Jeonghan. Every day that you checked your phone you hoped to see a message from him, every time you went to the library you hoped to find him studying, every day someone talked about the Alpha Mu party this weekend you wanted to go.

And of course, you missed him.

You had grown accustomed to being around Jeonghan. You liked how he treated you. It was fun to be with him.

You knew that no one had said it was shameful to miss him, but you couldn’t help but feel like it was. 

Because he had lied to you. Even if it was a small lie, it was a lie. You two had to have complete trust in your relationship.

But as much as you were homing in on that detail. The fact that he lied, you couldn’t quite put your heart into it.

“But really y/n. Why are you pretending not to be hung up on Jeonghan?”

You sighed and waved your hands through the air.

“I’m not pretending,” you replied. “I’m trying really hard to make it true.”

You looked down at the empty coffee cup in your hands, your eyebrows furrowing a bit.

“Okay, here me out,” Minhyuk said. “Let’s talk this out. Like… A school project.”

You looked up at him.

“Listening,” you said slowly.

“So, in this scenario there is a guy who everyone goes crazy for,” Minhyuk started. “And a girl who ends up catching his eye. Everyone can tell he is obsessed with her.”

“That’s-”

“This is just a random scenario!” Minhyuk interrupted, raising his pointer finger to his lips. You gave him a glare but let him go on. “So, if he is obsessed with her and everyone knows it. Psychologically speaking, why might she think otherwise?”

“Minhyuk-”

“It’s just a little on the spot presentation,” Minhyuk teased lightly. “Surely that’s easy for you to answer.”

Another sigh left your mouth.

“Maybe she thinks otherwise because he really isn’t obsessed with her.”

“What would other people gain by thinking that he is obsessed with her if it weren’t true?” Minhyuk asked. “After all, if he wasn’t then everyone who wanted to get with her instead would have no fear of repercussions.”

You fought the urge to argue with him.

“Okay, fine. There’s a couple of different reasons for it,” you said after a few moments. “Psychologically speaking she could be experiencing Imposter Syndrome.”

You thought over symptoms of Imposter Syndrome for a few moments.

“If not a specific syndrome, maybe she just has blocks to receiving affection, or maybe she’s clinging to negative core beliefs. She could even just be nervous to get into a serious relationship.”

“Okay, now that we’ve acknowledged what could be causing those thoughts, what caused the separation between the two?”

“I thought this was just a random scenario?” You asked skeptically. Minhyuk gave you an annoyed look. “He lied about sleeping with other people. Not saying that he wasn’t. He said he was, but it turned out he was only sleeping with me.”

Minhyuk’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Uh-” You saw him physically shake off his surprise. “Okay, so you find out. You’re mad?”

“Hypothetically,” you mumbled.

“So hypothetically, what is the logical next step to take?”

-

Of all the stupid things you had done recently, this might have to be the stupidest and it wasn’t even your idea.

Sure, looking at yourself in the mirror you looked a little different, but anyone with two eyes would be able to tell it was you.

“Keep in mind, it will be dark,” Seungcheol reminded you as if he could read your thoughts. “And you won’t be close enough to him for him to notice you.”

“And you never wear this kind of makeup,” Mingyu agreed. “And that wig looks nothing like what your hair usually looks like.”

“And most importantly, he isn’t expecting you,” Seungcheol added on.

You sighed. You supposed all that was true.

“I think he’ll still see through it.”

“He won’t,” Seungcheol assured. “This plan is foolproof. All you have to do is hang around my friend Yeonjun at the party, watching Jeonghan from afar. You’ll see that he hasn’t moved on and then you can decide if you want to have that conversation with him or not.”

It was still stupid. Hallmark rom com behavior. And yet, even so-

“Y/n, Yeonjun. Yeonjun, y/n.”

You eyed up the boy in front of you, give him a small smile despite your indifference towards him. He smiled a bit wider than you, his head falling to the side and his eyebrows scrunching together slightly.

“You’re y/n?” He asked, holding out his hand for you to shake. You ignored his hand. “You really do look different. That’s a good disguise.”

Mingyu personally seemed to take pride in that.

“Thank you,” he said with a smile. Seungcheol rolled his eyes and started to push Mingyu away.

“Okay, we’re going to go now so that Jeonghan doesn’t get suspicious of anything,” he said. He gave you a weird look, hesitating for just a moment. You raised your eyebrow at him. “Stick to the plan.”

Stick to the plan.

The plan wasn’t really a plan, and no matter how you thought about it you felt like you were in high school all over again. At your age, putting on a disguise to see if a guy really liked you was a bit childish. But, despite that, the plan was for you to spend the night at the party with Yeonjun, and watch Jeonghan from a far.

Why, Yeonjun? Because the salt and pepper haired boy was someone that you had never associated with before. So, if Jeonghan did think he recognized you, he would be thrown off by the fact you were with Yeonjun.

Maybe it was just the alcohol but as far as you could tell the disguise that Mingyu and Seungcheol had put you in was convincing. Nobody that had bumped into you thus far had recognized you. Even the Alpha Mu boys seemed to be none the wiser.

And Yeonjun, despite his excessive drinking, was proving to be quite the amusing partner in crime. As the night started out, the two of you had been located near the snack table. You had used this time to spot Jeonghan, while Yeonjun used this time to start drinking. At first he was quiet, just focusing on the alcohol, and then he seemed to go practically comatose. He stood next to you, completely silent, completely unmoving. It made him easy to ignore.

Jeonghan had started the night talking to Soonyoung and Seokmin, but as the night progressed, he started to move around the party. You hadn’t really pinned Jeonghan down as a particularly social person, despite the fact that he slept around.

You noticed that other than hanging out with the other frat boys he didn’t really associate with people. You were a bit surprised to find out that he was in a study group with Yeongtae.

Jeonghan didn’t stay with one group of people for very long. Instead, he floated from group to group, sometimes barely even partaking in conversation.

“It’s almost pathetic the way that you are staring at Jeonghan. You’re looking at him like most of the girls desperate for him look at him.”

You fixed Yeonjun under an unamused gaze to which he just shrugged unapologetically.

“Just thought I would tell it as I see it. You’re obsessed with him.”

It was the first time that you had heard anyone flip the tables on you. You were so used to people telling you that Jeonghan was obsessed with you that this felt weird.

“You’re drunk,” you said pointedly.

“Drunk but not blind,” Yeonjun argued back. He leaned towards you, his finger flicking across your nose. As he did, he tipped his cup of alcohol, spilling a few drops on the ground. His eyes widened in despair and he ducked his head to try and catch the spilled drink.

You laughed at him, shaking your head and allowing your eyes to turn back to Jeonghan.

“You really like him,” Yeonjun pressed.

“I’m just trying to see something,” you argued back.

Yeonjun hummed and suddenly his head fell against your chest.

“Hasn’t everyone been telling you? He’s been turning down people left and right for the last few weeks,” Yeonjun said. “Rumors on the street is that he is into someone.”

You rolled your eyes, but honestly found his behavior amusing. You raised a hand to his head, patting him like he was a dog.

“You always drink so much?” You asked him. He looked up at you with a pout on his lips.

“I don’t drink anymore than the next person,” Yeonjun replied. You fixed him with a skeptical look. “Okay a little more than the next person.”

He paused.

“We should get more alcohol,” he stated. Then another thought occurred to him. “You should drink some.”

“I think that if you are so drunk you’re spilling your alcohol than you are too drunk for more.”

Yeonjun whined his protests, but you ignored them. You kept your hand placed on the drunk boys’ head, staring at Jeonghan. A girl had joined him a few moments before. Her hand raised to his arm but he shook it off, looking like he was annoyed by her advances.

“Why are you so obsessed over Jeonghan?” Yeonjun asked. He paused. “Wait. Right. The plan. You don’t think Jeonghan is obsessed with you.”

You grunted, watching as Jeonghan walked away from the girl he had just shook off of him.

“I don’t believe this,” you murmured. Yeonjun peered up at you, his eyes wide and pupils dilated.

“What? That Jeonghan hasn’t fucked with anyone else yet?” He questioned. His eyes wandered over to the man in question who was practically social distancing from the girl in front of him. A completely different girl from the one he just turned down. “Isn’t this irrefutable proof that he actually does like you?”

“He’s got to be…” You trailed off in frustration. “Maybe he’s just being overly picky. He can’t just not be sleeping with other people because of me.”

Yeonjun looked back up at you. There was a moment of silence.

“Well, why don’t you try to seduce him then?”

Listening to a boy as drunk off his ass as Yeonjun was at this point was stupid.

“Yeonjun the plan-”

“The plan is stupid,” Yeonjun blurted out. “You put on a disguise this good just to stare at him from afar? You need to get into the action. Figure out for yourself if he really will sleep with someone else. You know him, what makes him tick.”

He gestured in the direction that Jeonghan was in, stumbling a little bit.

“Go make him tick.”

“He’ll recognize me,” you protested. Yeonjun rolled his eyes and gestured to the people around you two.

“No one recognizes you,” he replied. “Get it together and go figure out if that man is really your man.”

You really did no better than to listen to someone drunk, but something about Jeonghan really did make you stupid.

And yet, you still ended up finding yourself leaving Yeonjun with a girl whose name he had known, making your way towards Jeonghan in the crowd.

Your mind was screaming at you, begging you to not be stupid. Begging you to stay away from him. But even as you thought that, your shoulder was bumping against Jeonghan’s.

Time to see if you were really as good at acting as you sometimes pretended you were.

An innocent smile flickered across your face.

“Oh I’m-” You sucked in a breath that you wished you could say was rehearsed but really you had just really forgotten how nice it was to be in Jeonghan’s presence again. “I’m so sorry.”

You stumbled a little from the inertia of your bump and Jeonghan caught you by the wrist. A confused expression was riddled across his face. His eyes flickered across your body, his gaze pausing at your neck and then flicking back to your eyes.

Your heart stopped. You were sure you had been caught.

“And who might you be?” Jeonghan asked softly, a smile curling across his lips.

Game and point.

Pride surged through your body at the fact you had been able to trick him. Even more excitement buzzed through your body when you saw that undeniable glint his eyes. Lust, interest. His fingers tightened their grasp on you, causing your body to burn with desire.

“Is it important?” You asked. “All that matters is who you are.” Your eyes glinted in excitement. “Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan’s head fell to the side ever-so-slightly.

“So, my reputation proceeds me as it always does,” he said. His eyebrows furrowed. “I can’t help but wonder what you’ve heard.”

“Just that you always bring people to the finish line,” you replied your voice light.

You worried that your current conversation was too reminiscent of your first one with Jeonghan, but your worry over being caught was clouded by the knot that was growing in your stomach. Why did you feel like this? Wasn’t this what you wanted? To be right?

“Do you want to come upstairs with me?”

Jeonghan’s invitation was tempting, despite your disguise. Mostly because it reminded you just how much you craved him. Being mad at him was exhausting but this also showed that you were right and Seungcheol was wrong. He was the same Jeonghan that he had been when you met him.

Picky. But still willing to sleep with any person he thought fit his standards. You had simply been a glitch in the system. A break in a chain that was now put back together. You were forever just going to be a notch in his belt.

But you couldn’t help it…

“Yeah.”

You were reconsidering everything as you traveled back up those stairs. Now they were so familiar to you. Each little scratch and notch reminding you of a different time that you had traveled up them.

So Jeonghan hadn’t recognized your face. Did that mean he wouldn’t recognize your body?

Surely not, right? How distinct could your body be from others?

You shouldn’t let it get that far. No, you needed to make an excuse- Any excuse to get back downstairs to the party.

Maybe that would knock down Jeonghan’s ego a little bit. If suddenly, a conquest turned him down.

Yeah, that felt like good revenge and totally made up for the lack of self control you had when it came to Jeonghan. You would really have to unpack at some point why you really didn’t care if you were just a notch in Jeonghan’s belt.

Jeonghan opened the door of his bedroom, gesturing you in. He was being a little bit more detached than he usually was when he was about to fuck you, but maybe that was just a difference between you and the other people he slept with.

It didn’t necessarily mean that he liked you more than them.

You opened your mouth to make some excuse to go back downstairs but before you could Jeonghan was slamming the door shut with his foot. Your eyes widened as he suddenly closed the distance between you two. You backed yourself up against the wall and he trapped you there between his arms, his face mere itches from you.

“Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you?”

His entire demeanor was different than it had been just a second ago. You could practically feel a hundred feelings radiating off of Jeonghan’s body. Lust, desperation, frustration.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jeonghan’s hand shot up and ripped your wig off of your head. He held it in front of your face, his lips pressed in frustration.

“Do you think I’m stupid? That I wouldn’t recognize you just because you had a little bit of makeup on and a wig?”

“I-”

“I understand my reputation,” Jeonghan said. He threw the wig to the floor and pulled away from you. You took a large breath of relief for the space.

Generally, when it came to situations like this, where you were stuck around an angry man. You were, reasonably scared.

But this was Jeonghan. Yoon Jeonghan. He only hurt you when you wanted to be hurt. And he never hurt you over actual anger. You knew you were safe.

“I’m Yoon Jeonghan, and I fuck around. But… Fuck that shit, I only want to fuck you. I thought that we were past this. I thought you understood that.”

You were ripped from your thoughts at that, your eyes wide.

“That’s surprisingly intimate,” you joked. Jeonghan looked at you.

“Y/n, I’m sorry I lied to you about sleeping with other people,” Jeonghan said. He walked back over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders so that you had to look at him. “I didn’t sleep with anyone. Not since we established you couldn’t sleep with other people. I haven’t wanted to sleep with anyone else.”

Again, the scariest thing about Jeonghan was just how serious he was acting. You laughed.

“You sound like you’re about to confess your love to me,” you joked.

Jeonghan’s eyes didn’t leave yours, but they saddened a little bit. His lips pursed together into a thin line. The smile dropped from your face.

“Jeonghan-”

He looked away from you, his hands leaving his shoulders.

“Yes, at first it was just sex. I mean, really. What are the odds that we would find each other?” He asked. “How many people like to get spit on and have their face smacked? You like it when I rough you up. That’s crazy.”

You just stared at him, unsure of what to say. He didn’t look like he wanted you to say anything yet anyways.

“Yes, I’m jealous of the people that you get to spend time with,” Jeonghan said. “Stupid, fucking Seungcheol… I’m not jealous of Yeongtae because I’m scared that you are going to fuck him. I’m jealous because you two have an emotional attachment that we don’t have, and I was scared we would never have it.”

“Why would you want an emotional relationship with a fuck buddy?”

There was silence from Jeonghan, and he turned around to look at you. He had a sad look on his face.

“Y/n, Jeongyeon told me once… In passing, that you weren’t looking for a real relationship.” The air in the room was suddenly so heavy you felt like you needed to sit down. “Why not?”

Your heart skipped a beat, the implications seeming unreal.

“I just...” You tried to figure out the right words to say. Tried to figure out what you were thinking. “I haven’t needed that in my life. No one has proved to me that we would really work out.”

Jeonghan stared at you, and you stared back at him. There was something in his eyes. You were scared that Jeonghan was going to say something that you didn’t think you wanted to hear right now. You needed a distraction.

“Jeonghan.”

“Yeah?”

“I really… I really need you.”

“Fuck,” Jeonghan said, turning his body slightly away from you. “I’m trying to apologize to you, y/n.”

“Apology accepted,” you agreed. You lowered your hands to the hem of your shirt, dragging it off your body. Jeonghan groaned, covering his hand with his face.

“Y/n, I am not that strong. This is the longest I’ve gone without sex since high school,” he said. “Just let me…”

You walked over to him, unbuckling your bra as you walked. You let it drop to ground, knowing that he heard the sound. You grabbed Jeonghan by the collar of his sweater.

“Come on, Jeonghan. I know you need it just as bad as I do. You want me… I want you… The door is closed…”

You took Jeonghan’s hands, pressing them to your bare sides. His fingers obediently wrapped around your body. You dragged his hands up your body by his wrists.

“Come on,” you whined. “Didn’t you miss me? Don’t you want to use me?”

A groan left his mouth.

“You’re not being very good y/n.”

Jeonghan looked reasonably torn. You could tell he was trying to be mature and take this the right way and that scared you even more. Coming to this party you had expected to see Jeonghan flirting with other people, but here he was doing everything that he could to actually amend things with you and you couldn’t wrap your head around why.

“And what are you going to do about it?”

“Fuck it. But we’re talking after this.”

Jeonghan’s hand tightened around your body, and his other hand came to your hair. Braided to keep it hidden beneath your wig. A growl left Jeonghan’s mouth.

“Never braid your hair before seeing me. Ever again.”

He placed his hands square on your shoulders and pushed you back onto his bed.

“Unbraid your hair right now.”

You scrambled to pull the rubber bands out of your hair, your fingers running through the strands of your hair as you struggled to get them out of your braids. Jeonghan meanwhile was watching you, a dark look in his eyes as he practically ripped his shirt off of himself.

“If I don’t have something to pull-”

Just as you got the last bit of your hair untangled from the braid, Jeonghan was climbing on the bed, fingers hooked in your pants as he pulled them off your body. You didn’t have to be told what to do from there and immediately shimmied out of your panties, tossing them to the side and propping yourself up on your elbows, simply anticipating what Jeonghan was going to do next.

You couldn’t help how your body was buzzing just at being in this position again. Being in Jeonghan’s room, being naked in front of him. Normally, you would feel embarrassed, but you really seemed to have no shame when it came to Jeonghan.

“Fuck, look at you,” Jeonghan mumbled, his hands lowering down to his pants. His fingers hooked on his belt and he began to unbuckle it and you had to literally wipe drool from your lips. Fuck. “You are so fucking gorgeous.”

He tossed his belt to the side with a soft clang.

“And even though you are being so bad in distracting me with sex,” he said, unbuttoning his pants with a single flick of his thumb. “You are literally on bed waiting for me to do whatever the hell I want to you, aren’t you?”

You nodded, and you were burning so badly that your core hurt. You needed to be touched by Jeonghan. You couldn’t just lay there under his gaze and watch him get undressed. God, you needed to do something. Anything.

“I know how badly you want to touch yourself,” Jeonghan cooed, dropping his pants to ground. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your eyes on Jeonghan. “But I also know just how badly you need to be good for me. Isn’t that, right?”

Your face was blazing and you could feel your pussy beginning to drip wetness despite the fact that Jeonghan hadn’t even touched you yet.

“Go on y/n. I wouldn’t blame you if you had to play with your cunt while you waited for me to finally touch you,” he said. Your eyes widened slightly but he shot you down quickly. “No that’s not permission. You will get punished if you touch yourself. But I know that you really need to touch yourself. I’m just saying I won’t blame you for succumbing to your own desires.”

A smile flickered across his face.

“What will it be huh? Are you going to relieve yourself? Ease that feeling of desperation that’s just building up in your body?”

Jeonghan laughed at you and dropped his boxers down to the ground. You didn’t speak to him. Too afraid of what you were going to say. You were excited now, thinking that since his clothes were off you wouldn’t have to choose between being good or bad.

You were wrong.

As soon as Jeonghan had stepped out of his boxers he walked up to the edge of the bed, but instead of joining you on it, instead of throwing foreplay out the window and taking you right there, he stopped where his knees brushed the comforter.

He wrapped his fingers around his rock hard cock, groaning at his own touch.

“I love that you let me do anything to you,” he said. “What would you do if I told you that I wasn’t going to touch you at all? What if I told you that I was just going to look at you and get myself off and cum all over you and then just leave you? Make you sit there covered in my semen until I decided that I should touch you.”

He thought over that for a second.

“If I even decided to touch you.”

“Jeonghan-” You blurted, your eyes wide as panic seized your body. “You wouldn’t do that.”

Jeonghan gave his cock a pump.

“Are you sure about that?”

There was something sadistic in his eyes, and it made you second guess everything you knew about him.

“You wouldn’t even-” Your voice cracked. “You wouldn’t even touch me?”

You swallowed hard, unable to help yourself from spreading your legs out a little further.

“Didn’t you miss me at all?”

“I missed you so fucking much, y/n,” And as he spoke his voice grew deeper, shaky even. “That’s why I can’t touch you. I need you to need me as much as I need you.”

You felt yourself whimper at his words.

“I do. I do need you Jeonghan, d-don’t do this to me,” you blurted out desperately. Jeonghan mostly ignored you, his eyes threatening to flutter shut from the pleasure of even just slowly pumping his cock. You thought that him touching himself made it that much more cruel.

“I don’t know why you are complaining,” he commented. “All you have to do is misbehave. Are you really that scared of misbehaving in front of me?”

You nodded, squirming in place.

“Yes. Jeonghan, please,” you begged. “I don’t want to be bad, I want to be good, I want to be of good use to you.”

“You’re good use to me right now,” Jeonghan replied, the corners of his lips quirking up. “You’re so pretty to look at and so good at begging for me.”

A loud whine escaped your lips.

“Jeonghan,” your voice was tiny now, your fingers balled in Jeonghan’s comforter as you fought the urge to do what Jeonghan wanted you to do. You honestly thought that this was crueler than any kind of punishment he could and had ever given you. You couldn’t help the fact that tears were beginning to sprout out of the corners of your eyes.

You scrambled to your hands and knees, crawling to the edge of the bed. Jeonghan narrowed his eyes at you, but you stopped before you really hit bad territory.

“Jeonghan please, I’m not this strong,” you pleaded. You let your eyes grow wider, and tilted your head to the side, puffing out your chest. Jeonghan’s eyes darkened.

“Yeah?” He asked. You nodded, scooting forward more on your knees.

“I need you Jeonghan,” you agreed.

Jeonghan’s eyes fluttered shut and you thought for a second that you were screwed and not in the way that you wanted to be but just as your gaze dropped to the ground, you felt a hand gripping tightly in your hair.

Your head was jerked up and you came face to face with Jeonghan, his nose millimeters from yours. He smiled at you, his tongue briefly flicking across his teeth.

“You promise?” He asked you. Your eyes briefly furrowed and your gaze darted down to his lips. A beat passed and then suddenly you remembered that he had spoken to you. You tried to nod, but found you couldn’t move. You swallowed thickly.

“I promise,” you breathed. Jeonghan snorted.

“Liar.”

You opened your mouth to argue with Jeonghan but you suddenly got pushed back into the bed. Just as your head fell into the comforter Jeonghan was grabbing you by your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed. You propped yourself up on your elbows again, but just as you did that Jeonghan was pushing two of his fingers deep into you.

You felt your elbows collapse as soon as he curled his fingers inside of you. A loud desperate moan left your lips.

“You don’t need me,” Jeonghan admonished. He pulled his fingers from you, humming as he slipped his fingers into his mouth. “No, you just think you need me because you do whatever that pretty cunt tells you to.”

His hand came down on your clit, causing your body to jolt and your head to press harder into the bed.

“And your pretty little cunt will get wet for any man who promises to put his dick in you.”

You felt the tips of Jeonghan’s fingers brush your skin, and he slowly dragged his fingertips down your body.

“J-Jeonghan please,” you managed to get out as Jeonghan teasingly ran his fingers down your body. “Th-That’s not true. I-”

Jeonghan’s fingertips slid between your folds, and when he raised them up in front of you they were literally dripping. His head fell to the side.

“That’s not true? Because I’ve barely touched you and you’re soaked,” he pointed out. “You’re either a slut, or you need me so badly you just can’t help yourself, and we know that can’t be true.”

He didn’t leave room for that aspect of the conversation to continue because then he was pushing his wet fingers into your mouth. You desperately sucked at them, hoping maybe Jeonghan would be tempted to do more to you, but he pulled his fingers disappointingly fast from your lips.

His hands returned to your sides, dragging up to your breasts. He cupped your breasts in his hands, giving them a small squeeze. You arched your back into Jeonghan’s touch.

“Jeonghan, please,” you whimpered.

“What?” He asked innocently. “This isn’t good enough for you?”

Frustration bubbled in your chest at Jeonghan’s words.

“You know it isn’t,” you replied, unable to keep the bite off your tongue. Jeonghan hummed and pushed two fingers back into you without warning.

“What about this?” He asked. “Is this enough?”

You opened your mouth to respond- To tell him that no it wasn’t enough- but before you could Jeonghan was sharply pushing his fingers back into you forcing you to raise a hand to your mouth, biting down on it to keep more noise from leaving your lips.

“You know, I almost didn’t recognize you,” Jeonghan mumbled as he pressed his fingers deep inside of you. “You being there in that makeup, with that wig, in those clothes with Yeonjun? None of it made sense. Not after what happened.” 

He shook his head. 

“But I saw through it. Even though it didn’t make sense I knew it was you, I just got really thrown off by one thing.”

His free hand raised to your neck, his fingers splaying across it. You knew immediately what he was talking about. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out. Your frustration gone now that Jeonghan was fucking you with his fingers “I don’t know why I got rid of-” 

Before you could finish talking Jeonghan was pressing his hand to your mouth. He raised an eyebrow towards you in warning.

“I don’t care why you did it,” Jeonghan replied. You pressed your lips together and Jeonghan pulled his hand away from your face. “The question is can I replace them?”

You felt another wave of heat run through your body.

“Y-Yes,” you managed to get out. Jeonghan smiled.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his voice dropping a few octaves. “Because if I leave more marks on you I expect you to leave them this time.”

You nodded, craning your neck.

“Yes, I’ll leave them, I promise,” he bit out. “I fucking missed them, I regretted getting rid of them so much.”

It was true. Ever since you had successfully gotten rid of the marks, you had hated looking at yourself in the mirror. You missed the marks on your neck even if you had been upset about the whole Jeonghan situation.

Jeonghan didn’t argue with you over it. He leaned forward, the tips of his fingers pinching at your nipples as his lips attached to your neck. At first he just peppered soft little kisses to your neck as his hands kneaded your breasts. The further he leaned down however, the closer his hard cock got to you. You felt the tip of his cock brush your swollen clit and you bucked your lips up, chasing the friction.

“Y/n, I’ve never seen you so desperate,” Jeonghan said teasingly, his hot breath making your head press back against the bed harder. “You’re acting like you haven’t been touched in days.”

“I haven’t,” you breathed. Jeonghan’s teeth bit down on your neck, and then his warm tongue flicked across the spot, as if to soothe your neck after the bite. “I-I- haven’t even touched myself since I got with you.”

Jeonghan’s body shifted further and once again Jeonghan’s tip pressed against your clit. You wiggled your hips so that Jeonghan’s tip slipped between your folds. Both you and Jeonghan let out matching groans.

“Even when you’re mad at me you’re still mine, huh?” Jeonghan said his voice low. “You still need my cock to get yourself off. Can’t come without my permission to.”

You nodded your agreement but as you moved Jeonghan was biting down on your neck again.

“Beg me to fuck you,” Jeonghan breathed against you.

“Jeonghan,” you pleaded. “I really do n-need you. Your cock is the only one that I can be satisfied with. I just, fucking, need you. So badly I need you.”

“It’s s-so hard to resist you,” Jeonghan mumbled and you literally heard his voice crack. You knew normally you would get in trouble for grabbing Jeonghan but you couldn’t help it. You raised your hands to Jeonghan’s forearms, wrapping your fingers tightly around them. You could feel how tight his muscles were, presumably from the strain of not pushing his cock into you.

“Then don’t,” you breathed. Jeonghan laughed humorlessly, picking up at you from your neck.

“I’ve got to take my time with it today, baby,” he said softly and your whole body shivered at the word. He pulled away from you, ignoring the way your hands tightened around his arms as he did. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I never know when you are going to come around for me to fuck. I have to make the most of it.”

Jeonghan’s pulled back his cock, slipping from your folds and dragging a string of wetness from it. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes all over again. The frustration of not being fucked really building up in you.

He began to slide down your body, his mouth trailing kisses to your skin. Your toes curled as his lips trailed over your breasts, his teeth briefly nipping at you before continuing down your body.

“Jeonghan,” you cried out. You tried to move but Jeonghan pressed a hand to your pelvis, pinning you to the bed.

“You’re making it so much harder, to stop from fucking you,” Jeonghan groaned. His mouth came to a stop just above your clit and he started to press wet kisses to your thighs. So close to your pussy that his tongue was darting out to capture some of the wetness that had soaked your thighs. “I want to take you so fucking badly. Give you exactly what you are begging for.”

The tears slid down your cheeks.

“Pl-please.”

He finally wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking on it harder. You still tried your best to move under him, but it was pointless. You reached forward, your fingers burying in Jeonghan’s hair. As good as it felt to have him sucking on your clit, you were still desperate for any thing to be in your pussy. You fucking missed his fingers. You needed his cock.

Jeonghan’s mouth lowered and his tongue ran teasingly between your folds. You let out a wrecked sob, mixed in with a desperate moan and Jeonghan cooed lightly, his breath teasing your clit.

“Poor baby, you’re so desperate for me aren’t you?” He asked. You nodded.

“I’ve been so good Jeonghan,” you begged softly, your breath coming in hics. Jeonghan’s tongue dipped into your pussy and your fingers tightened in Jeonghan’s hair. Not pulling to get him to pull off of you. Just pulling because you couldn’t do anything else.

“You taste so good,” Jeonghan commented. “I could stay down here all day.”

Another cry left your lips and Jeonghan pulled his mouth off of you, sticking two of his fingers into your pussy. His head fell to this side.

“Look at me, y/n,” he said. You looked up at him, your eyes blurry from tears. He clicked his tongue. “Oh look at you. Do you really need cock that badly?”

You nodded and another hic left your lips. Jeonghan cooed at you and raised his body, pulling his fingers from you. He sucked his fingers into his mouth, and then, once they were clean, cupped your face in his hands.

“Don’t cry baby, I’ve got you.”

He slid his dick into you, making a relieved moan leave your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut as Jeonghan pushed himself fully into your pussy. You mewled loudly.

“Fuck, I can’t stand to be apart from you,” Jeonghan groaned. His hands lowered to the sides of your head and he pulled out before pushing hard back into you, your whole body shaking. You raised your hands to wrap around Jeonghan’s body.

“Th-Thank you, Jeonghan,” you breathed out. “But, pl-please, h-harder.”

“Harder?” Jeonghan’s voice was light, muddled with pleasure. “I’m trying to take my time. Really trying to savour this.”

“I know you want to use me,” you pleaded. “Like a slut right? Like your perfect little slut.”

Your fingers dug into Jeonghan’s back.

“I can take it, I can always take it. Stop holding back.”

Jeonghan’s hips stuttered and after recovering, his hips snapped, forcing his cock hard into you.

“Baby, I don’t think you can take it,” he said. “Look at you? Your mascara running, your face red. You can barely take my teasing. You think that you can take it if I fuck you the way I usually do?”

You nodded desperately.

“I can, I really can,” you insisted. “Please, I need it hard. I need to feel you take me. Own me.”

“Fuck,” Jeonghan groaned. “You little-”

He reached forward, his fingers capturing your chin between them.

“You don’t know what you are asking for,” he warned. You forced yourself to look at Jeonghan, your eyes wide.

“Jeonghan, I need you.”

Jeonghan lowered his hands to your neck, his fingers wrapping around them. His eyebrows raised as he stilled himself inside of you.

“What’s your safe word?”

You blurted it out, making Jeonghan laugh at your desperation.

“Good, fucking, girl.”

His fingers tightened around your neck and he began to fuck you fast, deep, and hard. It was a pace that you were familiar with but somehow it rocked your core even harder than it normally did. You felt it growning a little harder to breath as Jeonghan’s fingers tightened around your neck and a whine at the light-headed sensation was ripped from your body.

His fingers loosened at the whine, allowing you to gasp for a breath of air, but as soon as you did Jeonghan was tightening his grip on you all over again. You felt yourself clamp hard around Jeonghan’s dick as a wave of pleasure shot through your body. Your fingers clutched at Jeonghan’s back but just as they did Jeonghan raised his hand to your face, hitting you across it lightly.

“I’ve been letting you misbehave all day,” Jeonghan growled. “But if you want me to own you, you’re going to have to be good.”

His thumb swiped across your face.

“No touching.”

Your hands dropped to the bed, raising above your head. You arched your back, hoping for Jeonghan’s hands to return to your throat but he was much too focused now. You loved it when he became borderline animalistic. His hips were snapping into you, his lips curving up with every desperate cry of his name.

“You gonna tell me exactly how much you missed me?” Jeonghan asked. “Tell me about how I plagued your thoughts every day. How you can’t do anything but think about me and need me?”

You tried to find the words to talk back to Jeonghan, but you couldn’t find your voice no matter how hard you tried. Your silence earned you another slap which went right down to your core.

“God, you’re so pathetic,” he cooed. “So fucked out you can’t even find the words to respond to me. You always get like this eventually don’t you?”

“Only with you,” you managed to get out. Jeonghan lowered a hand to your clit and he began to messily rub it in circles.

“I know baby,” he said softly. “And you’re going to come just for me aren’t you? After all the teasing and the touching, you were able to hold back until just now. What do you think that makes you?”

“Good,” you blurted back. “I’ve been so good.”

Jeonghan’s lips flickered into a smile that you could just barely make out.

“You have been,” Jeonghan agreed. “So, fucking good for me.”

He shook his head.

“Even though you’re loud.” He gave you a particularly hard thrust. “Messy.” Another thrust. “Fucking shameless.”

He reached forward, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You are so fucking good. I fucking love-” His voice faltered before he quickly added: “Fucking you.”

Without warning you felt Jeonghan begin to unload himself into you, you screamed out in pleasure but Jeonghan cut you off by pressing his lips to yours.

“Come on baby, you have my permission,” Jeonghan mumbled against your lips. “Come for me, okay?”

You didn’t have to be prompted further. You didn’t care about being good. You raised your hands to Jeonghan’s neck, pressing him down further on you. Instead of screaming you focused on kissing Jeonghan, you whole body shaking as you came around his cock. As you were coming down from your orgasm, you felt Jeonghan pushing his cum deeper into your pussy.

Unfortunately for you, Jeonghan’s thrusts stopped, as soon as your grip on his neck loosened.

Jeonghan slipped his cock out of you, and a small whine left your lips. You covered your face with your hands finding both comfort and disappointment in the feeling of Jeonghan’s cum beginning to leak out of your pussy. Instead of immediately getting up to start a shower however Jeonghan wrapped his arms around your body, pulling your back flush to his chest and then proceeded to bury his face in your neck.

You let him hold you for a few minutes, focusing on his breath on your neck and the beating of his heart that you could feel against your back before finally speaking.

“Are you not going to start a shower?”

Jeonghan let out a humorless chuckle.

“I never thought there would be a day where you wanted a shower immediately after,” Jeonghan commented.

“It’s just uncharacteristic of you not to try,” you replied softly. Jeonghan was silent for a few seconds.

“It’s just I have to leave you to go start the shower,” Jeonghan said. You frowned at his words.

“And…?”

“And what if when I get back, you’re gone?”

Even as he spoke his arms were tightening their grip on you.

“Jeonghan I’m not going to leave,” you said softly. Jeonghan didn’t seem convinced. “Jeonghan-”

Jeonghan sighed.

“You’re right. I’m being selfish,” he said with a sigh.

He stayed still for a few more seconds, making you think for a moment that he hadn’t meant his words, but then he was pulling away from you.

Your first thought was that you shouldn’t have complained about him holding you. Now it was cold. And before when he was just holding you there was no need to address the situation you two were in at all.

“I’ll be right back,” he said softly. “Don’t go anywhere.”

He walked to the door and paused, looking at you before he left the room.

As soon as Jeonghan was gone you sat up in his bed, using your elbows to prop yourself up.

Just leaving while Jeonghan was gone hadn’t really been something on your mind until Jeonghan mentioned it, but thinking about it know you didn’t think it was a bad idea. After all, you still had a lot to think about.

Had Jeonghan really been unwilling to sleep with anyone who wasn’t you? Or had he known you were there to watch the whole time?

You swung your legs over the side of Jeonghan’s bed, and shakily got to your feet. You looked around the room trying to find your clothes but then you remembered your shopping trip with Jeonghan. You wandered around Jeonghan’s room, trying to see if maybe he had just thrown the bag somewhere.

You were about to give up hope when the brief thought to look in his closet. You pulled open the door, a small frown flickering across your face. At first the closet looked the same as it usually did, but then you noticed something odd about the clothes hanging to the right.

They were the ones that he had bought for you. Your frown deepened as you moved the hangers trying to see if you were right and you were. He had taken the time to hang up every piece of clothing he had bought for you.

Why would he hang up the clothes? Take up space in his own personal closet, just for some person he was sleeping with.

Your thoughts briefly flickered back to what Jeonghan had been trying to tell you before you had distracted him with sex but before you could think about it too much, Jeonghan’s door was creaking open again.

You saw him peak at the bed, a disappointed look crossing his face before you cleared your throat. His eyes flickered to yours and his head fell to the side. Without a word he walked over to the closet and grabbed one of his own shirts. He looked at you.

“Hands up,” he said softly. You did as you were told and Jeonghan slid his shirt onto you. He gave you a small smile and then quirked his head.

“Come on.”

Jeonghan led you to the bathroom, even though it really wasn’t necessary. You thought maybe it was because he genuinely was worried that you would leave. The shower was already running, and you expected Jeonghan to leave once you were inside, but instead he closed the door behind you two. You gave him a questioning look, but he just shrugged, raising a hand to his neck and glancing away from you.

“I thought maybe you would like some help.”

“Jeonghan, I don’t need help to take a shower,” you said. Jeonghan closed the distance between you two, his fingers coming to the hem of his shirt. His fingers briefly brushed your skin before he lifted the shirt back over your head. Once he had dropped the shirt on the floor he raised his hands to your hair, briefly brushing his fingers through it.

“I’ve always wanted to brush your hair,” he said softly. Your face burned hot under the attention. You rolled your eyes and cleared your throat.

“You’re really not going to take no for an answer,” you said with a sigh. Jeonghan’s eyes widened softly, and he pulled his hand away from you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. You pressed your lips together.

“Don’t be,” you mumbled. “I know my safe word.”

You stepped away from Jeonghan to step into the shower. You didn’t know how Jeonghan did it, but he always managed to have the shower at the right temperature.

“You can join me,” you said.

Jeonghan smiled.

“Well only if, you’re sure.”

He waited for your nod and vocal confirmation:

“I’m sure.”

Jeonghan climbed into the shower with you, but his focus was surprisingly on getting you clean. He had grabbed a clean washcloth from under the sink before getting in and he immediately put some soap on it to start running over you. You narrowed your gaze at the fruit scented soap you had never noticed before.

“One of your sluts leave that?” You asked. Jeonghan’s hand stilled from where it was rubbing soap suds onto your body. He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, it’s not Chaedom’s.”

You frowned at him, making him sigh.

“I bought it for you,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “As much as I liked you smelling like my body wash, you also smelled like every other boy in Alpha Mu.”

He focused back on cleaning you off, not elaborating on why he saw that as a problem. Not that you really needed him to elaborate. In all of your relationships, you had never taken a shower with anyone. Building on that, you had never had anyone touch you so gently.

Jeonghan was so focused too. Even though his hands were all over you it was clear he wasn’t trying to turn you on at all. Even though, him being so gentle was turning you on.

Jeonghan crouched down, rubbing your ankles with soap. You watched him for a second and then crouched down as well. Jeonghan looked up at you in surprise, his wet strands of hair falling in his face. You smiled at him and brushed the strands out of his face.

“You’re so weird Jeonghan,” you said softly. His eyes widened at your words. “Why are you being so gentle?”

“It’s after care,” Jeonghan responded as if it was obvious. You gave him a half-annoyed look.

“Even washing me is more after care than you normally give me.”

“Before I was scared of my feelings,” Jeonghan said. He thought about that for a second. “And yours.”

He cleared his throat and looked away from you.

“Besides, this might be the last time I see you. I want to make the most of it.”

Your heart hurt a little to hear Jeonghan say that, but you tried to push down the feeling.

“You worried about not having a pussy to creampie?” You asked, trying to keep the mood light. You laughed. “You gonna miss having someone who loves to be degraded by you so much?”

“I do love how you always do what I say,” Jeonghan replied, a smile flickering across his lips. “But you’re also the same girl who knows what she wants. Turned down Chan and threw a drink in Yeongtae’s face. All for me.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I turned down Chan to turn down Chan, not for you.”

“But you did turn down Yeongtae for me.”

You turned your eyes away from him, making Jeonghan sigh. He raised his hands to your face, turning you towards him. He stared at you for a few moments, his eyes flickering down to your lips before he reached over, putting some face wash in his hands. You groaned as Jeonghan start to lather the soap into your face. You let yourself fall back onto the floor of the shower, light-heartedly swatting away Jeonghan’s hands.

“Why’re you being so thorough?” You whined. Jeonghan just smiled, waiting for you to stop talking so that he could dip your head back under the flow of the water. He rubbed his fingers a little over your face until he was satisfied that all the soap was off of your face. He pulled your head back and grabbed a brush.

You groaned, but he ignored you starting to work the brush through your hair.

“Jeonghan you don’t need to be so thorough,” you insisted. Jeonghan just scoffed.

“Maybe I should have been helping you all this time. It seems that you were cutting corners,” Jeonghan mumbled.

“You know what’s nicer than a shower?” You asked Jeonghan. “Your bed. You have such a nice bed.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes.

“You’re aging me,” he commented. He reached around to grab what you assumed was shampoo, He set the brush down and began to massage it into your scalp. You figured arguing with Jeonghan further was pointless, so you finally fell silent, resting your head on your hand while he cleaned your hair.

You watched Jeonghan’s eyes as he worked the soap into your hair, making sure to coat your whole scalp and get it even in the ends of your hair. His lips were quirked slightly up as he watched his own hands work through your hair. He was giving off such a strange aura.

“Y/n, you’re so beautiful,” Jeonghan mumbled. “More beautiful than anyone I’ve ever slept with.”

You didn’t want to humor him, so you didn’t respond to Jeonghan’s words. He didn’t mind.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Jeonghan asked. You frowned slightly.

“Yeah, at the-”

“Not the party,” Jeonghan said with a shake of his head. “Freshmen orientation. I slept with your roommate.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you tried to catch Jeonghan’s eyes. It was pointless, he was too focused on your hair.

“We didn’t meet freshman orientation,” you denied. As you spoke, Jeonghan tilted your head back under the stream of water.

“Well, not entirely. I met your roommate immediately. The first few hours of freshman orientation and as soon as we got there, we skipped the first meeting to fuck in your dorm. You came in just after we had finished. You didn’t bat an eye. You were so nonchalant. You turned your back while your roommate got dressed and you two practically got to know each other while I just sat there and watched.”

Jeonghan laughed.

“And then you two just left me. You didn’t say a word to me.”

Jeonghan pulled your head forward again and then started to put conditioner in your hair.

“You never gave me the attention I wanted from you. Not then, and it drove me crazy. That whole weekend I was trying to get your attention without getting your attention.”

Jeonghan shrugged.

“Nothing. And then freshman orientation ended, and I thought I would never see you again.”

His fingers got caught in a knot in your hair and his eyebrows furrowed. He focused in on it.

“But we’ve had a few lectures together here and there. You make friends so easily. I just watched from afar.”

Jeonghan pushed your head back again under the stream of the water.

“Only at parties when you were forced to them by Jeongyeon. Never drinking when you did go. Nothing ever seems to phase you.”

Finally, Jeonghan’s eyes flickered to yours. You pressed your lips together, just taking in what Jeonghan had to say. You weren’t really sure what to think of all of this, but you forced yourself to stay in the moment. Just focus.

“When I say that I crave you, I mean it in a way you will never fully understand. I have wanted you since day one, but I have waited for you, and I never thought that I would have the chance to be with you.”

Jeonghan’s hands left your hair to cup your face with his hands. His eyes flickered to his thumbs that brushed over your cheek bones to your lips, your nose, and then back up to your eyes.

“And then I found you in my room and you were more amazing than I had ever imagined you would be.”

A sad look flickered over his face.

“I’m sorry I lied.”

“It’s okay,” you said softly. Jeonghan’s hands fell from your face, and he looked away from you.

“It’s not okay,” he replied. He cleared his throat and stood up. He leaned out of the shower and grabbed a towel, holding it out for you to walk into. You got back to your feet and did what you knew he wanted you to. He wrapped the towel around your body, and you turned around to look at him still standing in the shower. He pressed his lips together into a thin smile.

“I’m going to wash myself off. If you’re in my room when I get back, we’ll talk just a little bit more before we sleep okay?”

You opened your mouth, wanting to say something but no words left your lips. You didn’t know what today. You just nodded and did as he said.

Once you were in Jeonghan’s room your mind was racing and you were faced with your least favorite conflict of the mind. The choice between fight or flight.

You could leave now. Jeonghan was giving you the chance to leave, having already said what you assumed were the things he believed were most important to get out. If you left now you had a lot to think about.

Well, you had a lot to think about either way.

If you stayed, you could really talk through your feelings with Jeonghan. If you trusted him, you could really get some answers that you needed.

You thought for a while, drying your hair as you thought about what clothes to put on. You liked that Jeonghan had bought you all these clothes to wear while you were over but… Nothing hit quite like wearing one of his freshly washed shirts.

You put aside the thought and put on the pajamas he had gotten for you.

As you wrapped your hair in the towel that you had been left with you thought over the most important question in your mind.

Did you trust Jeonghan?

Could you trust Jeonghan?

It was a bit ironic that you weren’t really sure if you could considering you had done nothing but trust Jeonghan up until this moment. You trusted him not to hurt you. You trusted him to not tell others too much about what you two did. You even trusted that he wasn’t lying to you about the people that he was sleeping with.

Maybe that’s why it was a bit hard to trust him now.

You looked to where you had dropped your phone on Jeonghan’s floor when you first got in the room and you picked it up. There was a good way to test the validity of what Jeonghan had said.

You searched your contacts for the name of your freshman orientation roommate and let out a breath of relief when you found you still had it.

The phone rang only twice before Geumseong answered the phone.

“Hello? Y/n? Is everything alright?”

You pressed your lips together.

“Hi, yeah, no I’m fine I just… I had a weird question,” you replied. You gave it a seconds pause and then said: “Do you remember sleeping with anyone at freshman orientation?”

“Oh god, of course I do,” Geumseong replied. “That was the best sex that I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Do you remember…?”

“Yoon Jeonghan,” Geumseong said without much of a thought at all. “Fucking shame, he doesn’t sleep with anyone twice.”

You felt your heart pounding in your throat.

“Are you sure?” You asked, your voice kind of airy. Geumseong hummed a confirmation.

“How could I forget?” She asked. You sat there trying to figure out what exactly you were going to say back, but just then the door to Jeonghan’s room opened and Jeonghan appeared. To his credit, he look surprised.

“Okay, well, that was all I needed to ask. Thanks,” you said into your phone. “We should get together sometime.”

“We should!” Geumseong agreed. “I’ll call you later this week.”

The line between you and Geumseong disconnected and you dropped your phone to your lap. Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at you.

“So, you want to talk?”

“Let’s say I believe that you’ve liked me since freshmen year.” You did. Geumseong was practically undeniable proof. "Why did you never approach me?"

"Y/n, you’re too good for me.”

You blinked.

“Huh?”

Jeonghan turned away from you to get changed into pajama pants.

“I’ve never settled for anyone in my life,” Jeonghan replied. He turned around when he was dressed. “I just knew I was going to end up breaking your heart.”

Your eyebrows furrowed even further.

“So then why did you…?”

“Ever fuck with you?” Jeonghan finished. He closed the distance between you two and for a second you thought he was going to kiss you. Instead, he brushed past you, sitting on his side of the bed. “I’m selfish. You were right in front of me, and you wanted me. I honestly thought that maybe fucking with you would get you out of my system.”

Jeonghan laughed.

“I’m stupid,” he concluded. “You just became that much more irresistible to me.” He seemed to think for a few moments. “Did you ever wonder why I decided to retire to my room that night at the party?”

You thought about it for a moment.

“No,” you replied, but now that he brought it up, it was a bit odd.

“I was so angry that Jun introduced you to Chan. Would he have been good to you? Undoubtedly. But I wanted you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you two and looking over at you talking. Then you disappeared and I thought you were in Chan’s room…”

Jeonghan didn’t have to go on.

“Okay, so then why lie to me about being with other girls?” You pressed. Jeonghan sighed.

“I don’t know what it is about you, but you drive me crazy. I think about you all the time. Seeing you with other men when I want you is absolutely infuriating but you?” Jeonghan laughed airily. “It drove me crazy that you kept saying you didn’t care if I slept with other people. I needed you to be obsessed with me the way I was obsessed with you. So I lied.”

You glanced over at Jeonghan to find that this whole time he had been talking he had been staring at you. When your eyes met he looked away from you.

“And I kept lying because I thought that maybe the longer it went on, the further it got, then you would start to feel the same way I do,” Jeonghan stated. “But I think that I just ended up emotionally detaching you more.”

You didn’t respond because again you were at a loss for words. You didn’t think anyone had ever liked you as much as Jeonghan was making it seem like he did. Building off of that you had never thought anyone would ever like you as much as Jeonghan was claiming to.

And yet, here you were.

Jeonghan seemed to sense your internal struggle.

“You should sleep,” Jeonghan said softly. “Do you want me to sleep on the floor?”

It seemed Jeonghan just couldn’t stop surprising you.

“What? No. It’s your room, your bed-”

Jeonghan raised his hands in the air.

“Just want to give you space if you want it. Go to sleep then, okay?”

You didn’t think that you could fall asleep after this conversation with Jeonghan, but regardless you nodded.

“Right.” You laid down in his bed, taking note of the fact that he was pressed as far on his side of the bed as he could get. “Good night.”

“Good night,” he echoed.

But you couldn’t sleep. Minutes turned into hours and Jeonghan’s breath evened to the point where you knew that he was asleep. You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked over at his sleeping body. You thought carefully over his confession, running his words on repeat through your head.

Fuck, why was this so confusing?

He was in love with you. Well, he hadn’t said it in those exact words but you could feel it anyways. Looking back he had been fairly obvious about it. Every time he was with you, every time he held you, every time he kissed you he did it all as if it would be the last time he ever got to.

You knew how you should feel in this situation. You should feel relieved, and excited but your brain just refused to accept what Jeonghan was telling you as the truth.

It wasn’t because he had lied to you about sleeping with other people, even though you had made a big deal about it. You made a big deal about it because it didn’t make sense. Now you knew why he did it. Now it made sense. Even if it felt unreal.

Your lips pressed together as you watched Jeonghan. You kept having this feeling like everything was super complicated when in reality it wasn’t.

Jeonghan loved you.

Did you love him?

Part Seven: One Call Away

#I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YALL TO READ THIS #seventeen #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #svt fanfiction #seventeen smut #kpop smut #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan smut #OKAY THE NEXT CHAPTER IS GONNA BE A WHILE THOUGH #I WONT WRITE IT UNTIL MY THESIS IS DONE

[sanjisboyfie]

yandere zoro headcanons

male reader of course <3 also this is actually a very soft yandere zoro, nothing super duper hardcore...i think

yandere ! zoro . . . just expects you to know that he likes you. it's so annoying. he does the bare minimum and genuinely thinks that's enough for you to know. he's held the door open for you one time and equated that to a love confession. because he's not gonna ever blatantly confess to you, so he does these other minuscule things to get your attention and make it "known" that he likes you.

yandere ! zoro . . . will be at your beck and call. he will do whatever you ask of him. he'll act like its annoying, but he is more than happy to do whatever you ask him. it's undeniably a really sweet gesture that he does, but sometimes he gets really pushy and aggressive with it. the reason why is because he wants you to completely rely on him, even for your own basic needs. he wants to be doing everything for you for the power-trip and control it gives him.

"give it to me," zoro gruffly said, taking the bags from your arms. you were more than capable in carrying the groceries, but zoro took them off your hands. he knew you could handle them, but he felt the need to aid you.

"i am more than capabl-"

"shut up, i'm doing you a favor," zoro rejected your want to carry the bags, shaking his head.

"fine, thanks, zoro." a flash of your gentle smile was enough to send him into a flustered, crimson red blushing state.

yandere ! zoro . . . kind of going hand in hand with ^ that one, zoro would easily kill for you. the amount of dead bodies you'd be responsible for would be uncountable. every single man or woman thats hit on you has - unknowing to you - have been murdered by zoro. he doesn't take people trying to take you away from him lightly. to him its serious enough he needs to take their life. and he has and he will continue to.

yandere ! zoro . . . is very pushy on affections. it may sound out of character, but zoro never thought he'd get lucky enough to find someone like you. so now he's found you, he's gonna be selfish about, as far as he can go.

zoro had a nasty habit of physically taking you away from conversations. it would be out of nowhere - when you're just playing games with chopper and then you're suddenly being thrown over zoro's shoulder. you could try fighting against him all you want, but he easily overpowers you.

and when you're finally dropped onto the crow's nests floor, you berate him, "what's your issue?! chopper and i were talking you know!"

"i know," zoro says, not bothered one bit by your shouting.

"so?" you say expectingly, not enjoying how nonchalant he was being about the whole situation.

"if you're my boyfriend, don't i have the right to spend time with you?"

"i can still have friends though,"

zoro yawned, taking you into his lap and trapping you in hie arms, "come on, let's just sleep. we don't have to keep talking about stupid shit like this,"

"you can't just-"

a hand on the back of your head made you crash into his chest and effectively shut you up, his chest silencing you as you were smothered (suffocated) in it.

yandere ! zoro . . . has two sides of his personality - one he uses with you, and only with you, and then the side he shows everyone else. he never speaks as softly as he does with you as he does with other people. he's hyper aware that he looks intimidating to others, but he goes out of his way to be softer with you. it's sweet, honestly, but it's terrifying to see it happen in real time.

zoro had an arm drapped around your shoulder, simply following in whatever direction you took him to. whenever he saw something that he'd think you'd like, he pointed it out to you with a hidden smile.

"wait, look, do you like it?" zoro gently asked, picking up the ring and examining it in the natural light, "i can get it for you, if you want?"

"but it's pretty expensive-"

"don't worry about it, i can afford it," zoro shrugged, enjoying the way your eyes brightened. if only he could keep that for himself completely, hide you away from the rest of the world.

the two of them walked up to the vendor. zoro's soft smile was wiped away in an instant, looking gruff and annoyed at the man, "this one."

"what a lovely ring, you two are-"

"could you just hurry up? our crew might leave without us," zoro lied, already so annoyed with the innocent man who was just doing his job. you slapped him on the chest, shooting him a look.

seeing the disappointed expression on your face, he faltered in his glare a little bit. and an embarassed blush came onto his face, looking to the side and forcing himself to not glare at the vendor.

the man looked grateful for your intervention, quickly taking the exchange of beri and handing you the ring. a quick thank you left your lips before you walked out of there, zoro in tow.

"you're such an asshole," you murmured in annoyance, shrugging off his arm from your shoulder.

"babe, c'mon, don't-" but he shut up immediately when he saw the look you shot him, a warning look. it worked and he kept quiet the rest of the walk to sunny.

he practically grovelled for forgiveness the rest of the night, only gaining it back when he gently put the ring around your finger and peppered kisses on your face.

yandere ! zoro . . . is really only nice and doting to you - he doesn't give a shit about anyone else but you and makes it known. it earns him a scolding but he needs you to know that everyone that isn't you doesn't even cross his mind. you're the only person he thinks about and will continue to think about - everyone else isn't even worthy of being as important as you are in his head. you are the only thing he cares about, he devotes his entire strength in making it known he is at your disposal.

#≡;- ꒰ ° yandere headcanons ꒱ #≡;- ꒰ ° yandere series ꒱ #ok i think i might have written this a bit too soft #SORRY BUT YANDERE ZORO would so definitely be the type to be soooooo nice to you his darling and an asshole to everyone around him #so nice to you its almost out of character but stop he just wants to make you love him as much as he loves you #yandere zoro #yandere one piece #yandere imagines #roronoa zoro imagines #roronoa zoro x male reader #male reader imagines #x male reader #zoro x male reader #one piece x male reader #one piece imagines #zoro x reader

[fairysluna]

little wolf.

Cregan's little sister is the only one who can change his mind, which is why Aemond decides to use his charms and convince her to support the Green using some peculiar methods.

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Tags/TW: smut (p in v, loss of virginity, f!oral sex, praise, breeding, kinda innocent!kink), teasing, a bit of mean!aemond, slight dubcon, cregan being an overprotective brother, cursing. if something is missing let me know!!

Author's Note: mimor @tvrgvryen sent me this request a few days ago and I had to do it bc i loved it so much. So here it is!

Word Count: 4.9k

Aemond has always been a good observer. He has always noticed the small details, the reason why people acted as they did, the way people treated others. That's why it wasn't hard for him to realize how important you were for your beloved brother Cregan. 

The day he first stepped into Winterfell after Vhagar gracefully landed on the snow, he saw how brave Cregan was for stepping between you and the enormous beast. However, that mere gesture exposed the big affection he had for you; his only sister, and with that, Aemond knew what was Lord Stark's greatest weakness… you. 

He went to the North with a mission, a task to fulfill, and he was not a man that was known to give up on things. Aemond was resilient, determined. He would not accept a negative answer from the Warden of the North, and even though he knew about the oath and how Starks are famously known for being loyal to their words; he was eager to find his way to gain the North's support. 

And his opportunity came up with you; the sweet, kind Lady Stark. Beloved by all, you were also known as the Heart of Winterfell, for it was said that even the small folk held dear for you. Everything that Aemond heard about you were nothing but good words, showing how much people appreciated you, which only impulsed Aemond's bad intentions. 

It is true, a Stark never forgets an oath, but the North gathers when the wolf howls… and even though your brother was the visible face of your House, everyone knew that it was you the one that had true power over the masses; your gentleness made you the Queen of the North, and that information was enough for Aemond to start his devious schemes. 

It all started at the training yard. The snow had fallen earlier in the morning, covering the ground with a thick layer of snow. He was staring at you as you struggled with a bow and arrow, not being able to hit the bullseye. This would only make you groan with impatience, despair even. Aemond pressed his lips and looked down at his shoes, trying to show himself amused by you wrestling. 

"You're too tense, my lady," he said as he slowly walked towards you. 

His black fur coat covering his slim shape, his white hair perfectly still despite the crazy wind, his hands at the back of his body. He looked so effortlessly elegant, it almost made you blush. 

"My prince," you greeted him, bowing swiftly, "I'm sorry you have to watch this terrible attempt."

"I didn't know women were allowed to train here in the North," he spoke, politely as he stretched his arm to touch the fine wood of the bow you were holding. 

"We're not," you replied, "but my brother insists I should be prepared to defend myself, so he forces me to train either way."

"Mhm…" he nodded, "your brother is a clever man. A beauty like yours is the target of many deprived men, he's doing well by letting you learn how to protect yourself."

"But he barely has time to teach me," you complained, placing your arms in position to shoot again, "now he's in a meeting with the Mormonts, and I am here," you let the arrow go, but it didn't even hit the target. "...failing miserably."

Aemond chuckled, and you inevitably blushed at the low sound that came out of him. You stared at him from your peripheral view, analyzing his undeniable beauty and flirtatious smirk which made your heart beat a little too fast. 

"You're too tense," he repeated, as he shifted his position until he was behind you. 

His hands went to your shoulders, and he squeezed them softly giving you a soft and short massage that made you close your eyes. Soon, one of his hands reached yours, the one that was holding the bow's grip. He wrapped it around yours, and you immediately felt his warmth on your cold skin. It made you gasp silently. 

"You see, I'm not so good at using a bow, I think my weapon of choice is the sword," he whispered, getting closer to your ear, his breath smacking against your shivering skin, "but I know things… and I can teach you if you please, my lady."

His nose rubbed against your hair, and your delicious smell almost made him groan. Soon, the prince helped you to fix your position as your breathing was getting heavier and an unknown feeling was installed in your lower belly. You feel the heat even though it was freezing cold, you felt his body pressing against yours leaving a sensation of distress, as if your body was begging you for something. 

You feared of someone seeing you; the position was quite compromising, and you were certain your reputation would be stained if someone witnessed such a scandalous scene. It felt too intimate for you, perhaps not so proper for a maiden like you. You would have tried to push him away, but there was something within him that did not allow you to do so; it was as if he had bewitched you with his charms, and you were under a spell from which you were not able to wake up. 

"It's simple, my lady," he explained, "you must relax, you must let go," his voice so deep and low against your ear, "come on, no one's watching, you're under no pressure…" 

His touch, so delicate and gentle, mixed with his words, which you quickly misinterpreted; 'no one's watching', it sounded more like an invitation rather than words of comfort. You couldn't help but to sigh, a gesture that brought a slight smirk upon Aemond's face. 

"Let yourself go, Lady Stark," his voice turned more breathy, rapier. "That's it, so good… now, eyes on the target, don't take your eyes off of it, okay?" 

You simply nodded, wildly blushing at his praise. There was a subtle shiver that went to your trembling hands, you cleared your throat trying to play it down. 

"Take deep breaths, don't close your eyes," his hands left yours, now going to your abdomen, his nose brushing against your ear as he kept whispering, "good, good girl."

Your teeth captured your lower lip as you held back a whimper. Squirming in your place, you felt weak on the knees as his hands left a squeeze on your hips. 

"Now… shoot."

You listened, and your hand let go of the string. Your eyes widened with surprise as the arrow hit close to the bullseye, which was certainly not perfect, but it was an improvement. A smile appeared in your face as you tilted your head to appreciate your achievement, and soon a giggle escaped you. 

"Oh, Gods…" you sighed, "I did it."

"You did it," Aemond said, "you did so well."

His words made your face turn to face him, and his lips were just a few inches away from yours. Your breath hitched, as your heart pounded with so much strength that you thought he would be able to hear it… even feel it. His hand traveled upwards your body until it reached the nape of your neck. 

For a moment you thought he would kiss you, that his soft-looking lips would dare to touch yours. But suddenly, he pulled away. Few seconds later, footsteps were heard dragging the snow beneath their feet, and soon you found out the reason behind his abrupt reaction. 

"Sister!" you heard. The deep and roaring voice of your brother woke you up from your trance, and you turned around to face him. 

You saw a frown upon his face as his eyes narrowed. For a moment you thought he saw how close you were with Aemond, but soon his own words proved you wrong. 

"Septa has been waiting for you for an hour!" he scolded you, "why are you still here?" 

It took you a while to speak, you knew your voice would come out weak and thin if you dared to utter a word in that moment, which not only would make Cregan be suspicious of what happened, but also would embarrass you in front of the charming prince. 

Luckily for you, Aemond decided to step in. 

"I was helping her train, my lord, I'm sorry for the disruption I might have caused," you looked down at the steps Aemond had left in the snow, right beside yours. 

You were quick and subtle once you purposely stepped on them to erase them. Aemond noticed and he couldn't help but smirk. 

"Well, stop your training and go," he demanded, "you might continue tomorrow."

You had no choice but to obey. One last glance was given to Aemond as you bowed to him, saying goodbye. Cregan followed your frame as you entered the castle, and then he turned to look at the prince. Aemond was no fool, he knew Cregan was not ignorant of his intention… he was a man after all, he could see through his facade with no big effort. 

However, he did not say anything about it. He just nodded, and then he left leaving Aemond standing alone with the burning desire running down his body. 

At first, he planned on just seducing you… but now? Now he will have you. He needed to have you. 

That same day, quite late at night, you were found in your chambers, laying on your belly on top of the fur carpet right in front of the warmth of the fireplace. A book was between your hands as your eyes followed the traces of the poetic words that were written in it. The sound of the fire crackling and burning the wood was the only thing you were able to hear until three soft knocks interrupted the quiet calmness of the night. 

You barely looked up as you muttered a soft 'come in', turning the page to continue with your reading. The door was opened in a subtle movement that you barely noticed, and soon you heard steps getting close to you. 

It wasn't until you were able to see the shoes of that person that you decided to look up, only to find Aemond's grin staring back at you. You immediately sat up, crossing your legs and trying to cover your breasts with the book; the fabric of your nightgown was thin, and you knew that your skin could usually be seen through it if he dared to squint to take a look. 

Your body hasn't forgotten about his touch and closeness, and in a certain way it was actually craving for more of that. But you knew it was not proper, you've heard whispers around the castle claiming that he was actually betrothed to one of Lord Baratheon's daughters, meaning he already belonged to someone else. 

And yet, you couldn't help but to feel the eagerness to touch him. 

"My Prince," you said, the shock of seeing him there, sitting on the carpet right beside you was shown in your voice, "what- what are you doing here?" 

"I found myself alone and bored in my chambers, so I decided to wander around the castle and the path brought me here… to you," he smiled kindly as he said those last two words. Words that made your heart beat faster and your cheeks turn red, "were you reading?" He asked, pointing at the book that was covering your pebbled nipples.

"Uh… yes," you nodded, shyly, "it's a book about poetry."

"Poetry?" He asked, raising his eyebrows, "Mind if I have a look, little wolf?" 

You couldn't help but to wildly blush with the pet name, feeling butterflies inside your belly as you pulled the book out of your chest and left it in his hands. Aemond's eyes inevitably went to see your soft breasts covered by a thin white layer of silky fabric, breathing deep and harsh as he felt his cock twitch inside his pants once he managed to see your nipples through it. 

He remained calm, even when the only thing he wanted was to rip that gown out of your body and take you right there. Instead, he just sighed as his fingers elegantly turned the pages, reading some extract of the love poems in the book. 

"I see you're a romantic person, my Lady," he commented, without taking his eyes off of the pages, "do you consider yourself a fan of the genre?" 

"It's something that I enjoy reading, yes," you nodded. 

"I had the impression," he confessed, closing the book and leaving it aside, "have you ever been in love?" 

You shook your head, "I don't- I don't think so."

"Mhm…" he sighed, "that’s odd, you're a gorgeous lady, one might have thought you had a lot of suitors waiting for you."

"You're too kind," you said, looking retrained for a few seconds. 

"I'm just stating the facts, little wolf," he spoke softly, "It seems like your brother likes to scare them away."

"Them?" You asked confused. 

"Your suitors," he clarified, "that's the only reasonable explanation of why you are not married yet."

"He just wants the best for me," you defended him. 

"And what would that be?"

"A husband who not only sees me as a womb with legs, but also as something precious, something worthy of love and care," your dreamy voice made Aemond smirk, the naiveness in you amused him in so many ways.

"You're asking for too much in a society like this, don't you think?" 

You shrugged, "a girl can only dream."

The prince nodded, "and a man can only fulfill those dreams, am I right?" You remained silent, avoiding his heavy and penetrative stare at all cost, "have you ever been this close to a man before?" 

"No…" 

"I could tell," he chuckled, a sound that buzzed into your ears and made your mind go fuzzy, "you were quite nervous when I helped you with your bow this morning."

"I don't feel very comfortable with the proximity of men…" you confessed.

"Of all men, or just of me?" 

That's when you realized where this was going, and the panic quickly installed in your gut as you swallowed hard. It took you some time, but you finally noticed his true intentions. You knew you had to stop him before things went further. 

"My prince, I'm not quite sure what you mean by those words," you started to stand up, tumbling in your knees, "but it's late and it wouldn't be proper for you to be seen in my chambers, so please-" 

Your words were interrupted by the sudden action of Aemond, who pulled you closer until you stranded him, your legs at each side of his body as he forced you to sit on his lap, his hands pressed in your hips firmly, not allowing you to escape from his strong grip. 

"I think you know what I mean, my lady…" he whispered, leaning closer to your ear only to mutter with his seductive and raspy voice, "I think you can feel it."

Your breath hitched in your throat at the same time you tried to speak, "I- I don't know…" 

"Tell me what you felt when I touched you this morning," he commanded, his hands lowering to your thighs, starting to lift the thin fabric of your gown, "was it similar to what you're feeling right now?" 

"I… I don't-" 

"I sensed your nervousness when I said how good of a girl you are," he chuckled, starting to breathe in your neck, smelling your sweet scent, "does that arouse you, little wolf? Being praised?" 

"Prince Aemond, this is not proper, please-" you tried to pull away, but his grip pushed you down once again. Now you were able to feel his hard-on pressing right down your core, which sent you a sensation that caused chills down your spine. 

"That's not what I'm asking you," he spoke sternly, massaging your thighs, squeezing them every now and then, "Mhm… my sweet little wolf, you're shaking. Are you nervous now? You don't have to be, I won't hurt you."

"I told you I do not enjoy this," you breathed out, feeling his hands reaching your hips underneath your gown. 

"So you're telling me that if I dare to touch between your legs… I would not find your cunt drenching for me?" 

His words made you squirm, the blush running to your cheeks as his thumb started to caress your mons pubis. Your body tensed as you widened your eyes, feeling his finger pressing down. 

“I- I don’t- my Prince, please stop-” a small moan interrupted your words as he found your clit between your folds. His thumb rubbing it slowly as you closed your eyes; embarrassed that he was touching such a private part of your body. 

“Have you ever been kissed, my lady?” He asked, trying to hold back a groan as he felt your slick coating his digit, “Has someone been lucky enough to be the first to claim your beautiful lips?”

You shook your head, Aemond hummed with delight.

“Then I guess I’ll be the first…” 

You barely were able to process his words when he pressed his soft lips against yours. Slow movements that were easy for you to follow without much struggle as you held back whimpers of pleasure, for his thumb was still torturing your pearl in a slow and gentle manner. 

Your hand fell on his chest, not with the intention of pushing him away. You grasp his thin blouse, catching the fabric between your trembling hands as you felt the tip of his tongue starting to tease your lips. Hesitantly, your lips parted just a few inches, enough to give him space for him to claim your mouth; swirling his tongue against yours as you tried to keep up with his slow and tempting actions. 

He was able to taste your inexperience, the way you would doubt your movements before actually doing them was enough proof for him to know that you were not lying; he was the first man to kiss, which now made him more eager to also become the first man to fuck you. 

A gasp escaped your swollen lips when, in a sudden movement, he laid your body in the soft carpet, spreading your legs and placing himself between them. Your nightgown was wrinkled around your hips, exposing your glistening folds to him as he kept playing with your now sensitive clit. Soft mewls were heard as he stopped kissing you in order to taste your skin. You felt the wet caresses of his lips in your neck, your jaw, your collarbones, all while your hands were grasping the fur of the carpet beneath you. 

His fingers were soon covered in your juices, your hips trying to move against them in an attempt to feel more, but he pulled them away and you widened your eyes once you saw him licking them and humming after he felt your sweet taste against his tongue. Your breath was caught in your throat as you heard him groan. 

"My lady, you taste as sweet as you are," he spoke slowly, you blinked a couple times still feeling your mind fuzzy, "do you want a taste?" 

You gulped, not entirely sure of what to reply. The words were unable to come out, so all you could was nod. 

A careless smile appeared on his face as he left a soft kiss on your cheek, before you realized your legs were on his shoulders and his face buried in your drenching cunt as you tried to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure his tongue was providing you. 

His slurping was heard, echoing in the room as you tried to push his head away from your pussy, breathing fast and unsteady as he devoured you. You felt his tongue teasing your needy hole as his nose rubbed against your clit, making you moan a bit too loudly. His hands were grabbing your hips tightly, just to make sure you don't escape from him; his fingertips burying in your soft skin as your body writhe under his skilful mouth. 

You could feel your own slick slipping down your thigh along with his spit. It was messy, far from being as slow and calm as the kiss he gave you before. He was eager to make you cum; licking, sucking, and fucking your cunt until you were nothing but a moaning mess. 

It was over before you even noticed it. With a loud gasp, your eyes rolling and your thighs pressing at each side of Aemond's head, you reached your first orgasm, which finished with you gulping and hiccuping with pleasure. You heard him moaning against your soaking folds, collecting all your slick to then lean over your body. 

He took a look at your face, your lips quivering as your cheeks were burning and tinted with a furious red. His fingers reached your chin, and made you open your mouth, which you did without hesitation. His spit fell in your tongue before your glistening eyes closed as you whimpered. You were able to taste yourself in it, the sweetness of your release coating your tongue. 

"Swallow it," he commanded, and you quickly obeyed him, "good girl…" he let out a chuckle, and you couldn’t help but to feel an unknown heat running down your body. "See? I told you you were sweet, doesn't it taste good?"

You nodded, sighing. 

"So good, so delicious…" he leaned to kiss you again as his hands pulled down your gown, freeing your breasts, "I swear it, my lady, I will not rest until your cunt is mine forever."

His big hands left a soft squeeze on your tits before they went to his pants, untying the lace and pulling them down. His leaking cock was now on your sight, hard and reddish. You barely noticed he took off his shirt as you were too hypnotized seeing that specific part of his body. Aemond immediately noticed your curious eyes, and he teasingly grabbed his cock in his hand only to stroke it a few times before letting it on top of your clit. 

"Do you want it, my lady?" He whispered, starting to rub himself on you.

You whined, looking down at the obscene scene of his cock parting your puffy lips. 

"Do you want my cock to make you feel good?" He groaned, feeling your slick coating his shaft, "I will give it to you if you ask me… Tell me what you want."

You gulped, trying to pronounce pleas. 

"Aemond… I- I want…" 

"Tell me, my beautiful lady," he muttered, "tell me what you desire."

"I want you… please… it's hurting, I-" 

The head of his cock reached your hole and he slowly started to sink in you. Your eyes widened as a soft cry escaped your throat. Your legs closed as you brought them against your chest, and Aemond groaned in disapproval. 

"Come on, darling… keep your legs open for me," he cooed, "I want to see your pretty pussy taking my cock."

He held the back of your knees, keeping your legs folded but spread. His cock was buried in your tight cunt as tears of pain started to fall down your cheeks. A loud cry was heard, louder than all of the others, and Aemond was quick to put his hand on top of your mouth. 

"Sh, sh…" he whispered, "It's okay, it'll pass. Just relax, my lady, it will feel so good."

He spreaded you open with one push, your back arched as you struggled to take him. He stayed still for a few seconds before his own lust decided that he could not wait any longer. Your walls were squeezing him deliciously as he started to pound against you, groaning and moaning as the pleasure was taking the best of him. 

Grasping on the fur beneath you, you started to sob. Aemond saw the signs of pain in your face and he quickly leaned over you in order to take one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth. The feeling that brought you was indescribable, and soon the pain became bearable as his thrusts remained slow but became harder. 

Aemond would choke his moans against your tit as his tongue skilfully swirling around it, licking and sucking as he kept fucking you, each thrust going deeper and deeper. 

"Fuck…" he sighed, "your pussy is so fucking tight. Made by the Gods just for me."

His words made you drool as the warmth of the fireplace was starting to affect you, making you sweat. His hand left your mouth, now going to play with your swollen and needy clit. 

"This little cunt belongs to me now, doesn't it?" he purred against your ear. 

"A-Aemond..."

He hummed, "how sweet you sound when you moan my name like that."

"P-please…" 

"What is it, my lady?" he teased you, "do you want to cum? Do you want to make a mess on my cock?" 

"Y-yes…" you managed to say, choking with your words as he thrusted harder, "Oh, Gods! Yes…"

"That's it, sweet girl…" he praised you, "taking me so well, so good. I'm gonna fill you up, leave you leaking with my cum. Is that what you want?" 

"G-Gods… yes, p-please!" you whined. 

"Then I guess I have no other choice but to give you what you want…" 

A soft chuckle left him as his thrusts became faster. His hips smacking against yours as he gripped your arsecheeks to gain stability. The sound of your slick drenching around his cock echoed in the room as you started to cry out, sobbing with pleasure and begging for more. 

Aemond looked at your cunt, and a soft and subtle whine was heard as he saw the way his cock disappeared between your folds. Your pleas would only make him desperate, eager to reach his climax and seeing your abused hole leaking his pearly seed. The image alone was enough to make his cock twitch inside you. 

"Fuck, so good… so fucking good," he lifted your hips, pounding restlessly against you as he leaned his head back, closing his eyes as his breathing turned unsteady, "such a perfect pussy, squeezing me so fucking good." 

You clenched around him, and that was what sent him over the edge, spilling his big loads of cum inside of you at the same time that your release exploded. Your cries were heard even in the hallway, as the intensity of your orgasm took over your shaky body. The feeling of him stuffing you with his seed sent you a shiver down your spine that made you twitch your hips. 

Aemond leaned over you to kiss you, pounding lazily as he was coming down from his orgasm. You receive the sloppy kiss as your eyes were closing by themselves, too worn out to keep them open. 

But then, Aemond decided to speak. 

"Look at you, sweet girl…" he said with an odd tone that you haven't heard from him until now, "what would your big brother say if he saw you now, huh? Filled with my seed, a mess under my touch."

Your breathing stopped for a second and only then you realized what you did. You opened your eyes only to find a smirk on his face, and your heart dropped. 

"You probably will be swollen with my bastard in a few months… then what would the people think of you? The Heart of the North carrying the Prince's bastard child…" 

"N-no…" you muttered, starting to softly push his chest. 

"Mhm, yes…" he scoffed, "unless I take you as my bride, of course."

A shaky breath came out of your nose as tears of despair fell down your cheeks, your bottom lip quivered as your gleaming eyes looked at his. 

"W-would you… would you take me as your wife?" 

Aemond smirked, starting to pull out of you. He hummed delighted with the view as he saw the pearly drops leaking out of you. He sighed, putting his pants on and fixing his clothes. 

"If your brother decides to join his forces with ours, I will take you as my bride and no one will know this happened before our marriage…" he said, standing up and looking down at you. "But, if he decides to join my sister's army…" 

He doesn't even need to finish the sentence for you to know the consequences of that. The panic ran down your body as you sat in the carp carpet, covering your nudity with your nightgown and crying. 

"How- how am I supposed to-?" 

"Cregan Stark will do anything his little sister commands," he interrupts you, taking a few steps towards you to gently grab your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look at him, "so you better choose the right option, my lady."

He left a caress in your cheek with a smug smile on his face. He abandoned your chambers, letting you there feeling helpless and a bit scared. 

It wasn't a big surprise for him when a few days later Lord Stark gave him the good news… and Aemond fulfilled his words, marrying you a month after the North joined the war and helped King Aegon II win the final battle against Rhaenyra. 

What was a surprise, was the birth of your first child, a month earlier than what the Maesters expected.

#aemond targaryen smut #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd aemond #aemond the kinslayer #hotd x reader #hotd au #hotd x y/n #hotd smut #hotd x you #house stark #house targaryen #house of the dragon #fanfic #hotd

[headkiss]

do you think i have forgotten?

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you loved steve harrington years ago, and he loved you. now, coming back to hawkins, you find that things may not be so different.

word count: 14.1k

warnings: fluff, smut, a little angst, exes to lovers, very much idiots in love!

a/n: here it is!!! i hope u guys like it!!! it took a while but hopefully it was worth it <3

༄

A ‘welcome home’ banner hangs lopsided on the wall.

The party is smaller than the ones you’d become accustomed to at school. That didn’t matter. What did was that your favorite people were around for this one.

It was meant to be a surprise, but Nancy gave you a heads up. She knows you hate surprises, you just don’t have the heart to tell Robin, who absolutely loves surprise parties. Planning them, to be exact. So, you acted shocked, put on your biggest smile.

It was worth it for the beaming grin on your friend’s face, the tight hug as a hello.

You didn’t realize how much you missed home until now. Until you came back.

Small talk isn’t so tiring when it’s with people you really care about. Eddie and Jonathan, Nancy and Robin, even the kids are there to give you the warmest welcome you could ever have. Hugs from some of them, teasing from all of them.

It’s perfect, but there’s an obvious absence. One you’ve tried and tried not to think about. But here, in this room, with these people, you can tell that without him, there’s a space waiting to be filled.

That space has been left open in your life for years. A gaping hole. Then, when the night’s half over and you’re convinced you won’t see him, you hear one word that has memories rushing back to you. Like a flood.

“Ace.”

There’s only one person in the entire world who calls you that. Steve Harrington.

The nickname isn’t the only thing that gives him away. His voice is engraved in your head, the tone, the way it hits your ears. It’s been years since you last heard it, and still, it feels so, so familiar.

You met in high school. Gym class, actually, and you’d been deemed Ace ever since. By him.

It started with friendship, reluctant at first and then impossibly close. It grew into the kind of undeniable thing that pushed you together. Boyfriend and girlfriend. In love.

He was really, really good to you. So good that you didn’t care about who his friends were or what his reputation was. You didn’t care when things changed and he went from King Steve to the best babysitter around. Over a year, you were together.

Then, he was gone.

When you told him you’d be going away for school, he was supportive, happy for you, even. Then, the day before you were set to move he sat you down and broke your heart. I can't be with you anymore, he said.

Not I don’t want to, or I won’t. Can’t. Like he had no other choice.

To this day, you’re not sure why he did it. You called over and over for weeks when you first got to school. He never picked up. You were only able to check on him through your mutual friends. Robin, Nancy, Eddie, all of them.

One day, he was the greatest thing in your life, the next, he’d completely disappeared from it. Like a ghost.

You pushed yourself through school, tried to let go of him. It got easier, but the pinch in your chest when you thought about him never quite went away. You tried being with other guys again, but nothing stuck. It felt like you were cheating, like you could never fully commit to someone else. Your mind, body, and soul still belonged to him.

It got easier eventually. You can’t remember when it did, but over time, thinking of Steve became less like a stab to the chest, and more of a pinch.

When you spoke to your friends, they’d mention him briefly. In passing, like they didn’t want to hurt you with something as simple as a name. You knew he was working at Family Video with Robin, you knew his parents were around even less than they used to be, and you knew he went on dates. Often.

Steve spent every year of you being away trying to convince himself that he did the right thing.

He missed you constantly, but he felt like he’d be holding you back if he stayed with you. A distraction from your college experience, a boyfriend who couldn’t even make it to college himself. Not enough for you.

Now, seeing you at the welcome home party Robin put together, he feels like the biggest idiot in the world. Universe, even. Because how could he have let go of someone that lights up the room like a ray of fucking sunshine.

It’s pathetic that all he could say to you after all the years was his nickname for you.

You turn around after hearing it, the sight of Steve a punch in the gut. He’s just as pretty, if not more, and though he mostly looks the same, he’s grown in ways you weren’t there to see. He’s almost a stranger now.

“Steve,” you manage. “You’re here.”

“Hi.”

It took a lot of convincing from the gang for him to come. Not because he didn’t want to (he wanted to see you more than anything), but because he didn’t want to do anything to make you upset.

Your haircut is different than before, and you hold yourself in a new way, too. But, as soon as he finds your eyes he feels like he’s in high school again, laying in his bed facing you or laughing at the back of the movie theater.

He thinks of the last time he saw you, the tears leaving trails down your cheeks, the way you didn’t let yourself sob until he walked out. His stomach is in knots.

“Hi,” you hold yourself back from reaching out and poking him to make sure he’s real. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

“Well, surprise,” he sings the second word and throws up some awkward jazz hands. A glimpse of the dork you remember.

Surprise indeed.

“I can leave,” he offers in your silence. He even turns to do so before you stop him.

“No! No, it’s just- it’s been a while.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. It’s too late for that, and as much as you want to know what happened, why he ended things and just… vanished, you aren’t so stuck on that anymore. Four years is a long time.

You aren’t mad about it, it just never fully left your head.

“How was school?” He asks. Safe, easy.

“Well, I graduated. So, that’s something.”

A wink of a smile has the corners of his mouth twitching up. You’re different, but you’re also the same girl he knew. It’s nice to see again, to have hope that he didn’t destroy you.

“I knew you would,” he scratches the back of his neck. He’s not used to feeling so awkward around you. “You can write your own essays, after all.”

That one makes you huff a laugh, makes you think back to late nights spent helping him fix up his writing. Red pen doodles and way too many distractions.

“One of my many talents,” you say.

There’s another pause, a stillness that feels so wrong for the both of you. He put the distance there, and he hates himself for it. “I’ll be seeing you around then?”

“Yeah, Steve. I’m home.”

Yes, he thinks. You are home. Hawkins was missing something without you in it. Or maybe that was just him. Missing something without you.

Just as you’re pulled away into a conversation with Robin and Max, Steve grasps your wrist gently. Your skin burns with the familiarity of his touch. Aches with the memory.

“It’s good to see you, Ace.”

Then, in a blink, he lets you go.

When you turn away, Eddie comes up beside Steve, claps a hand on his back. “Nice, man. Not weird at all.”

“Shut it, Munson.”

Steve has a hard time keeping his eyes off of you. He searches for you when he hears you laugh, can feel his pulse jump when you throw your head back the way you always have. He lets his eyes linger when he knows he shouldn’t.

You catch him once. You can feel his stare on you like a breeze, tickling the back of your neck. When you turn towards him your eyes lock, just for a moment.

-

Hawkins is mostly the same. The stores on Main Street still have worn awnings, letters faded and colors dimmed. The arcade sign still flickers, Enzo’s is still the best restaurant. The movies where Steve used to take you on dates, his house with his BMW in the driveway.

It’s hard to be back and not let Steve bleed into everything.

At school, it was easy not to think about him. You’d bury yourself in studying and projects. Here, he’s everywhere you look. The town is painted with memories of you and him. He’s written all over the place.

You thought you were over what happened, that you could come home and not let it phase you. You had no idea it’d be like this.

Despite it all, you’re glad to be home. You like waking up to the peacefulness of light wind and leaves rustling. It’s a lot nicer than a dorm building full of students and the constant noise of the city.

You’re tremendously happy to be so close to your friends again, too. There’s no more worrying about whether or not you’ll see them anytime soon, no more sporadic phone calls that just make you miss them more.

But still, there’s that empty space. Steve-shaped.

The next time you see him you’d decided to visit Robin at work. It took you about a week of being home to get yourself to go into Family Video, knowing Steve works there. You have to get used to him again.

Sure enough, when you walked in, there he stood. Green vest and all.

When the bell above the door jingles to signal your entrance, Steve turns to look at you. He sets down the box of stock he’d been holding, and your eyes follow the way his arms flex before you can tell them not to.

“Ace, hi.”

“Hey,” you send a short wave his way, rocking on your feet. “I’m just meeting Robin for lunch.”

He probably knows that, but you say it anyway, trying to fill the void of silence that hums between you.

“Yeah. She’s in the back already,” he says. “I can show you.”

“Sure, thanks.”

He almost places a hand at the small of your back to guide you, just like he used to. It’d be so natural, so simple. Instead, he clenches his fist by his side and shuffles in front of you, nodding his head for you to

follow.

“So, um,” he stops in front of the door to the back, turning to face you. “We still do movie nights. All of

us, like we used to. You should come.”

“Are you sure?”

Movie nights are always at Steve’s, and you don’t want to be there if it’ll cause any problems, as much as you’ve missed the sense of tradition. Routine.

“There’s an open spot on the couch for you anyway. Always has been.”

When you were away, you worried your friends would replace you. Forget about you, even. That clearly wasn’t the case.

“I’d love to go. If you’re sure it’s okay.”

“As long as you still don’t mind Eddie talking through the important parts.”

You shake your head, a small, close-mouthed smile on your face.

“Wouldn’t be a movie night without it.”

The bell above the door rings again, and Steve turns to see the customer. “I should get back.”

You nod. You watch him go, watch him greet the woman who walked in with his classic smile.

You just have to get used to him again, that’s all.

-

Walking the steps up to the Harrington’s front door is something you’ve done time and time again. So, it shouldn’t feel so odd, really.

It used to be an almost daily occurrence. Now, it takes you some mental preparation before you can bring yourself to knock on the door. This time, it isn’t Steve who answers, it’s Robin. You’re grateful for it, because stepping into his house again is already a bunch to take in.

“You came!” She says, grinning.

“Of course I did. I missed movie nights a bunch.”

You really, really did.

While you had a couple of friends in Indianapolis, the connections were shallow. Especially compared to what you have here. There, they were friendships formed from convenience. Roommates or project partners. It was a lot lonelier than you let on.

“We missed you, too.” Robin walks you into the living room, where cheers of your name ensue.

“Look who it is,” Eddie speaks from where he sits on the ground in front of the TV, setting things up.

There’s a shift from the loud, giddy greetings when Steve walks into the room, bowl of popcorn in hand. It’s like everyone’s waiting for one of you to burst.

“Hey. You made it,” Steve says. No bursting, just some sort of tension that hasn’t gone away since you saw him at your party.

“Yeah. Thanks again for inviting me.”

“Surprised one of them didn’t beat me to it,” he nods at your friends that are scattered across the couches. Your friends whose eyes are ping-ponging between you both.

It’s almost like you can feel everyone take a breath of relief when you plant yourself by the armrest of the sofa. When you shoot Steve a small, barely-there smile. A peace offering.

Halfway through the movie—broken up by constant Eddie commentary, and various ways of someone telling him to stuff it—Steve notices the way you’re curled up, cardigan pulled tight over your body.

He reaches across Robin to hand you a blanket wordlessly. She nudges his shoulder when you aren’t looking, gives him a look that tells him she knows something, even if he doesn’t.

He’s always been attentive, but you’re surprised when the soft fabric is passed over. You wonder if he realizes it’s the blanket you’d always reach for when you were over. If he realizes he handed you the one you’d cuddled him under countless times.

He doesn’t, you’re sure. Why on earth would he remember those things? Or even care?

After that night, the group slowly becomes whole again. The others stop planning separate things with you or Steve. It’s like they waited for you to get acclimated to being around each other again, tested the waters.

It’s as sweet as it is sad. You never wanted to mess anything up, make anything harder.

Though you see Steve a lot more often, your interactions with him remain short and distant. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to feeling so far away from him.

While you were away, over time, the memories became less vivid, as did the pictures that still sit in your bedroom at home. Sun damaged and faded. Your feelings, though, they never really dimmed, only pushed to the back of your mind and shoved into a box labeled Steve.

That box has been bursting at the seams.

Still, you try to keep it shut, to push it all aside and be friends with him again. Or, friendly, at the very least.

Steve keeps a framed picture of you in a drawer in his bedside table. Maybe that’s weird. It used to sit atop of the table, but he moved it when it got too hard to look at your face without thinking of how it looked when you cried.

Having you around again is hard, but it’s more so a relief. He’s missed you so, so much, and even though things aren’t the same and they might never be again, he’ll take you in his life any way he can have you. And this is a start.

The hardest part, he thinks, is burying all the things he never got to say. I’m sorry, I just wanted what was best for you, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s no use now, he knows that, so he swallows the words down. They make his stomach ache.

He needs to distract himself from it all, because it’s too much. Seeing your face almost every day again, not being able to reach out and hold it like he used to.

It’s way too much.

-

You got a job at Enzo’s to keep yourself busy.

While you’d love to stay buried in your bed all day, or walk around aimlessly until you end up at Lover’s Lake, sitting by the water and listening to it move, your parents decided it’d be better for you to do something valuable with your time.

Besides, waitressing isn’t so bad. You mostly work nights, allowing you the sleep-ins you love so much, there’s not so much pressure when you already know most of the people you serve, and the tips are always nice.

It’s mostly a breeze—besides a spill incident—until Steve shows up there on a date. Seated in your section.

Your coworker had warned you, “new table for you. Looks like a date.” And there he was. His hair done like always (does he still use Farrah Fawcett spray?) and his dress shirt a little wrinkled.

When it’s time to head over, you shut your eyes and take a grounding breath, slap on your customer service smile. You introduce yourself like you always do, the ‘I’ll be your waitress for this evening’ spiel.

Steve looks up from the menu as soon as he hears your voice. He’s stunned, eyes wide and mouth ever-so-slightly agape while he looks at you. He tries to recover quickly. If he’d known you were working tonight he never would have brought his date here, never would have subjected you to that on purpose. He feels like shit.

“Can I get you guys anything to drink?” You say. Waitress persona engaged, praying your face doesn’t look forced.

She orders first. Her voice is sweet, and she’s pretty. Why'd she have to be so pretty?

“Just water for me. Thanks, Ace,” Steve says, letting the nickname slip. It’s like he can’t hold it in around you.

“‘Course.” You turn quickly to get their drinks.

“Ace?” Steve’s date, Becky, asks.

“We’re friends. From school. Just a nickname.”

He simplifies it. There’s no point in telling the whole story. It’s over—he’s had to remind himself of that constantly—and it’s his fault. Not the type of thing he needs to share on a first date, that’s for sure.

“Oh, okay. So, what are you getting?” Somehow, she accepts the answer easily.

You shouldn’t feel so shaken by this. Really, you shouldn’t. You were with Steve ages ago, and it’s been over. You don’t have any sort of claim over him anymore. None.

So why is your stomach twisting every time you catch him smiling at something she says?

All you know is that it won’t do you any good to think about that too much. You busy yourself with getting their drinks instead. You approach the table carefully, not wanting to spill anything.

“For you,” you set her drink down. She thanks you. She’s nice, too. “And, water for you.”

“Thank you.”

“You guys ready to order, or do you need a couple more minutes?”

It’s like you’re on autopilot, repeating the same phrases you do to every single table, hoping that it comes out sounding natural.

“I think we’re good,” Steve says, gesturing for his date to go first.

He almost feels like he should apologize to you. Then again, maybe he’s reading into things too far. As much as he feels like he can tell when you’re uncomfortable, when your smile is forced, he has no idea if your habits are the same as they used to be.

You’re cautious not to let your hands touch when you collect the menu from Steve.

The rest of their dinner is much the same, and you’re grateful any time you can distract yourself with a different table. Your actions are stiff, your words practically robotic.

Still, before he leaves, Steve leaves you a tip and a scrawled note on a crumpled receipt: ‘Thank you. Sorry for the ambush. -Steve.’

You still have notes from him, in that same, charmingly messy handwriting, buried in a shoebox in your closet. Notes you didn’t have time to get rid of in your rush to move. Notes you should probably get rid of.

Not only did he leave you a note, he was outside waiting for you when your shift was over.

He wasn’t going to wait. He was going to leave it at the note and hope that you weren’t bothered as much as he thought you might be. Maybe it was stupid to think you’d be affected by him being with someone else in front of you after all this time, but he couldn’t ignore the instinct he got when he saw the look on your face. The guilt he felt.

He catches you as you walk out the door, startling you a bit, “Ace, wait up.”

“God, you scared me. What are you doing here?”

“Sorry,” he says, falling into step beside you as you walk to your car. He’d parked two spots over. “Actually, I just wanted to say that. Sorry, I mean.”

“You already said that,” he tilts his head, a question. “On your note.”

“I didn’t want you to think I did that on purpose. I didn’t know you worked at Enzo’s until tonight, actually.”

“I haven’t been for long,” you amend. “I’m not upset with you, Steve.”

The words hold a lot more meaning than you expected. You really aren’t upset with him, not over tonight, and not over what happened years ago. You’re more upset with yourself for letting it get to you even now.

“Good. That’s- I never wanted to hurt you.”

His words are heavy, too. You’re too tired to hold the weight.

“What about your date?” You stop next to your car. He stops, too.

“I drove her home already. Came back after.”

Really, he was halfway home after dropping off Becky, but he couldn’t shake his worry that he’d caused even more strain on your relationship. He turned around without a second thought.

“She seems nice,” you say.

“Yeah,” he looks around the parking lot, stares at the streetlight for a second. “So, we’re okay?”

“We’re okay,” you confirm.

You can’t help but hope that saying it out loud will make things feel better with him. That maybe, you could be some sort of friends again.

He nods, “okay. Sorry again,” he searches for his keys in his pocket, “have a good night, Ace.”

He walks the short distance to his car while you fumble to unlock yours. Climbing in and shutting the door, you let your head fall against the steering wheel, forehead pressed to it.

What a night.

-

Steve’s seen Becky a few times since the date at Enzo’s.

She is nice, and he does like her, but he hasn’t been able to let her kiss him anywhere other than the cheek. So far, she hasn’t said anything, but he knows that he won’t be able to dodge her without question for much longer.

When you were gone, though it took time, he was able to be with other people. It never lasted long, and he rarely went through with things without thinking of you at least once. He can’t even give someone a peck on the mouth.

It’s like as soon as he thinks he can lean in and do it, his mind is all Ace Ace Ace, and he finds he can’t.

He’s trying his best to ignore it, to hope that in getting used to you being back, he’ll get used to not being with you, too. So far, it hasn’t been working very well. He dreams more often than not, and even in sleep, he can’t seem to escape your face.

Instead of digging into whatever mess he’s sure that’ll cause, he’s been seeing Becky.

It’s unfair, he knows it is. To her and to you, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He isn’t thinking straight because you’ve rushed back into his life so quickly he can’t catch up. He’s trying to bury the feelings he has for you by focusing on someone else.

Though, maybe focusing isn’t the right word, because his mind still wanders to you. A bunch.

He’s confused and he’s scared and he misses you. He doesn’t know what to make of everything that’s pushing to the surface once again now that you’re home, and he doesn’t want to because he’s afraid of what it’s sure to become. What might’ve never even left.

He misses you but he can’t do anything about that. So, Becky it is.

-

The breeze tickles your cheeks as you make your way through the trailer park in search of any of your friends.

Somehow, Eddie and his band managed to make their own gig out by the picnic tables, and, of course, he’d invited the group to come watch. When you first became friends with Eddie, he was reluctant to let you all in on his music. Now, though, he lets everyone know there’s a spot for them saved at every performance.

You follow the noise, finding where a small crowd of people has formed by the tables that have been pushed together to serve as a stage. Probably an unsafe one, at that, but it’s Eddie. He cheers when he spots you from where he stands on the middle table.

“She’s here!”

“Can't miss the first show I’m back for, can I?”

“The rockstar would not have that,” Robin says, giving you a quick side hug.

“Thank you for calling me a rockstar,” Eddie replies.

You say your hellos to the others, Nancy, sitting on the bench attached to the table Eddie’s stood on, Jonathan, fiddling with his camera.

“Is Steve not coming?” You ask. Hopefully in a casual way.

“No, he is,” Nancy says.

“Likes to be fashionably late,” is what Robin has to say.

You nod, turning your attention to Eddie, “so, how many of these songs are new?”

“To these fools, none,” he points lazily around the group. “To you, all of them.” He smiles, and it makes you smile, too. You’ve missed being able to support him in person.

“Can’t wait to hear them, then.”

“Dingus!” Robin yells happily.

You know she’s talking about Steve. You turn around to find him. Probably too quickly.

“Hey guys,” he waves. It’s then you notice that he’s not alone. His date that he took to Enzo’s is with him. She waves, too, her arm curled around Steve’s. “This is Becky.”

She’s met with polite greetings. Your mouth, for some reason, stays shut.

Robin comes to stand beside you. She looks at your expression, the shock that you shake your head to clear, the tiniest bit of hurt that lingers in your eyes. You look at her, and she raises her eyebrows at you, are you okay? It’s silent, but you know it’s what she’s asking.

Isn’t that a question. You don’t know why your stomach sinks when you see her with him. Again. Well, maybe you do know, you just don’t want to accept it. The feelings you’d had for Steve were meant to be long, long gone.

Only, since being home, you’ve realized they aren’t.

Even though things with Steve have been far from the same as before, even as when you were friends, he’s still Steve. He’s the kind boy you knew, only older. He still cares about the kids the way an older sibling would, he still puts his friends before anything, and he’s still the greatest person you know.

You simply shrug at Robin.

Then, Becky’s in front of you, “we already met, right?”

“Yeah, um, hi.”

“Hi. It’s nice to at least have a familiar face here.”

God, you want to dislike her so bad, but you really can’t. She’s kind, and she’s clearly making an effort to make a good impression. It’s annoying.

Steve knows he probably shouldn’t have brought her with him, but she’s been asking to meet his friends so frequently and he figured that Eddie’s gig would be as good a time as ever. At least here, there’s a crowd to hide in.

He really does like Becky, just not in the way he’s supposed to. He thinks he might’ve spent all of those feelings on you, and there’s no way he’s getting them back.

Eddie jumps down from the table and pulls Steve aside, “what are you doing?”

“Dunno what you mean.” He does, actually. Only, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“Come on, man. You can't tell me you don’t see the way she looks at you,” Eddie’s not talking about Becky. He’s talking about you.

“She doesn’t look at me. Not like that.”

“Sometimes you really are an idiot, you know? She looks at you like you put the fucking moon in the sky, all melty and shit.”

“She used to look at me like that. I fucked it up. That’s gone, okay?”

“Is it gone for you?” Eddie says.

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve says. When he looks at you, however, it feels like it matters. A lot.

“Just saying. Think you might’ve brought the wrong lady.”

Steve already feels bad about what he’s trying to do with Becky. Seeing her to distract himself from you. He hates that even his friends are seeing through it. Is it really that obvious?

Eddie turns away to finish setting up with the band. Steve sees Becky talking to you of all people and he almost smacks himself right there. He’s so, so stupid. He walks over, into the mess he’s created.

“Hey, Ace,” he nods at you quickly, then turns to Becky. “Why don’t we go find a spot to sit?”

“We aren’t watching here?”

Steve looks between you and her quickly. Really, he’s just trying to save you from having to talk to her. He can still tell when you’re itching to get out of a conversation.

“Think the speakers might be too loud for you, babe.”

You miss whatever reply she gives him, stuck on his use of the word babe. The last time you heard it come from his mouth, he was saying it to you. It stings even though it shouldn’t.

It’s over. It’s been over. So why is it so hard to forget about it?

-

You never really got used to seeing Steve with Becky.

He didn’t bring her around often—maybe for your sake—but when he did, you’d find yourself keeping your distance. At least one person between you and them, like a buffer.

It felt like the progress you’d made with Steve, with not feeling so far away around him, was disappearing every time you saw her standing with him. You hated it, how you let things affect you.

A couple of weeks went on that way. Then, you got a phone call.

You’d been sitting on your bed, back against the headboard, doing absolutely nothing. The shrill ringing came from your bedside table, and you leaned over to pick it up mindlessly.

“Hello?”

“Ace.”

It’s Steve. He hasn’t called you since you’ve been back. His utterance of your nickname sounds like a breath of relief.

“Steve? What’s going on?”

“Can I come see you?”

“What?” You’re convinced you misheard him, or that something’s wrong. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, promise,” he pauses. “Well, I broke up with Becky. But I’m good, okay?”

He broke up with Becky? He broke up with Becky and decided to call you. You’re not quite sure what to do with that.

“You- did something happen?”

“No, no. Just- I’ll explain everything. Let me see you.”

It's hard to say no to him, and you can’t help but be worried. You say yes, a quiet word whispered into the phone.

“Thank you,” he says. “See you soon, Ace.”

“Bye.”

You barely get the word out before the sound of his phone being hung up echoes in your ear. It’s only then, in the silence of your room, that you notice your heart pounding, a heavy thump in your chest.

Steve knows it’s selfish to want to see you now, after he’s just broken up with someone. It’s the first actual breakup he’s had since being with you, and yet, he’s not even upset. He just wants to see you.

Sure, he liked Becky, but she could never really erase his thoughts of you. He felt awful about staying with her for the reasons he did. So, he broke it off.

Now, he's knocking on your window.

The tapping wouldn’t be so noticeable if you hadn’t been waiting for it. He never did like using the front door.

You open the window for him, move backwards a couple of steps to give him enough room to stumble inside, hair a little messy, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, devastatingly pretty.

It brings you back to high school. Steve, sneaking through your window at night just to fall asleep with you, his arms a safety net, his steady breathing a lullaby. Steve, peering at you through the glass with that grin of his. Steve.

“You know you can use the door, right?” You say.

“Not my style,” he takes a second to look at you. “Hi, Ace.”

You shift on your feet.

“Hi.”

“I know this is…” He trails off. There’s not really a single word for it. “Thanks for letting me come.”

“I’ll always be here for you.”

You mean it. Even after everything, he’s Steve over it all. Your Steve, who was the greatest friend you ever had and, somehow, an even better boyfriend. He’s never been horrible to you; not even close.

Sure, he broke your heart and fell away from your life right after that, but you know him. You know there’s something he hasn’t told you about that, and if letting him in through your window again is a step closer to hearing it, you’re willing to take it.

“Even after what I did?”

“I don’t think you could ever really lose me, Steve.”

That hits him in the gut, a painful twist. Because he thought he did. Yes, he broke up with you (he regretted it very quickly), but he’d fought the urge to pick up the phone and call you at school more times than he can count.

“You’re a good person, Ace.”

He’s tiptoeing around whatever he wants to say to you. You talk softly, “why’d you want to see me?”

“I just needed to make sure you knew something.”

“What is it?”

“Just- I never kissed Becky. I haven’t kissed anybody since we, um, broke up.”

It’s the first time either of you have said it so plainly. There’s a wince on his face when he does. Small, but you catch it all the same.

“Robin said you were dating people, though.”

“Yeah, but I never kissed them. Ever. I couldn't.”

He slept with people—which was still hard—but to him, nothing feels as intimate as a kiss. He could never bring himself to cross that line with someone else. Not after how you would kiss him. The way everything else would melt away.

“I need you to know that. And I broke up with Becky because I couldn’t be with her without thinking of-” he stops, shakes his head, like he can’t get the words out. His eyes are holding onto yours when he says, “-someone else.”

“You climbed through my window just to tell me that?”

“I guess I did.”

He hadn’t thought about what comes next, what to do or say. Hell, he could barely even say what he meant in the first place. He wanted to say he’d been thinking of you, but the word got stuck in his throat. He hopes you can still read him enough to know what he meant.

“So, you were with Becky… why, exactly?”

“I thought- I don’t know. I thought I’d be able to push, um, someone else out of my mind if I was with her. I wasn’t, obviously.”

You’re practically speechless. Never would you have imagined that Steve was still thinking of you in any way, let alone so much so that he couldn’t fully give himself to anyone else.

Then again, you were never able to do that, either.

“I don’t know what to say,” you shrug, shoulder to your cheek.

“You don’t have to say anything, really,” he says, though there’s a sadness in his eyes that makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. You hate to be the one putting it there. “I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Steve. We aren’t together, I know that.”

He hasn’t been able to forget about that for a day. It’s like his life without you in it was a permanent winter. The snow never melting, the cold sinking into his bones. He hadn’t even realized it until you came back.

The wind picked up, frostbite ate away at him. Then, just like that, the sun was shining again. He hopes the snow will thaw soon.

He feels like an idiot right now. An idiot who can't spit out the right words and who can't leave you alone even when he knows he should.

“I should go.”

“Steve-”

“No, I’ll go. I’m sorry for dropping all of that on you.”

He’s turning his back to you, opening the window, worrying you all over again.

“You can stay.” Please, stay.

“I’m really sorry, Ace.”

Sorry for letting you go, sorry for disappearing, sorry for being a coward, sorry for fucking things up even now.

By the time you gather your wits enough to walk to the window, he’s crossing your lawn quickly. You watch him go until his figure fades into the night, the wind a low whisper in the air.

-

You do a lot of thinking that night, replaying the conversation over and over in your head. After what might be twenty minutes or two hours, you find you aren’t upset with Steve in the slightest. If anything, you’re worried.

And maybe, selfishly, a little hopeful, too.

It’s not even the breakup itself. It’s the way he spoke, the way his eyes lingered and his frustration seemed to soften just a little when he looked at you. It’s the way he had to make sure you knew he hasn’t kissed anyone since you, that he called and came over just to tell you that.

Maybe you should be angry, but all you feel when you think about Steve is something you’d convinced yourself was long gone. A feeling with wings, fluttering.

You decide that you need to talk to him again.

That decision has you walking through the door of Family Video early the next day, when you’re sure it won’t be busy. You had to double check with Robin that Steve was the one opening (you could practically see her knowing smirk through the phone), and sure enough, he stands behind the counter.

The bell above the door jingles, cutting through the silence of the store. Steve glances up to find you, rubbing his tired eyes to make sure you’re really there.

“Am I dreaming?” He says.

Steve was convinced you’d never want to see his face again after the shit he pulled last night. After dumping information on you that you hadn’t asked for, then leaving as soon as he got scared.

“If you are, so am I.”

“Robin’s not here.”

“I know. I wanted to talk to you, if that’s okay?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to after…” he trails off, like he’s embarrassed to have to bring it up.

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I feel like I should be asking you.”

“Steve.”

His name still sounds the best in your voice, he thinks.

“I’m okay, promise. Last night, I guess I just- I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. While I was gone.” Every single day since I left, I missed you.

You’ve both felt it for a long time, but now’s the first time someone’s been brave enough to say it. The words settle in the air for a moment, hanging between you.

“I’m sorry, Ace. For everything.”

You want to fall into his arms as easily as you used to, to squeeze him and tell him it’s okay, it can be okay, if you try hard enough. The counter standing between you stops you from it, maybe for the better.

“Do you think- do you think maybe we can be friends again?”

I don’t know if I can just be your friend, he thinks. Not after knowing what it’s like to kiss you and wake up beside you, to touch you and love you. If it’s the only way to keep you around, though, he’ll give it all he has.

“I’d like that.”

Your smile is almost shy, but it’s there.

“We used to be better at this. Talking, I mean,” you say, trying to be light.

“We’ll get better again.”

It’s quiet again, save for the murmur of whatever movie Steve chose for the morning playing on the TV.

“I hope you know I haven’t been, like, holding a grudge, or anything. I forgave you a long time ago.”

You had to, even when it still hurt, even when you still wonder why things changed so quickly. He’s a human as much as you are, and letting things fester for years wouldn't do either of you any good.

Still, like any wound, it still bleeds from time to time.

“Doesn’t change that I’m sorry, Ace.”

You shy away from the sincerity in his stare, from the brown in his eyes that could so easily draw you back into him completely.

He bends to catch your eye, though, making sure you know he means it.

-

Letting yourself get close to Steve again is easy, it’s the friendship that’s hard.

He’s a good friend, you see it in his interactions with everyone around you. He’s a good friend and still, you can’t stop thinking about the kind of boyfriend he is. Caring and loving, full of touches to give, a hand on you whenever it could be. You miss the warmth of that hand.

You keep that to yourself , though, because things are better. So much better.

You and Steve don’t avoid each other anymore, the smiles aren’t so forced or small, the words not so careful. The only subject you stay away from is the breakup, and even then, you don’t think about it so much now that he’s around again. You think about everything before that. The good and the in love, sticky and sweet.

Tonight, he’s convinced you to come along and chauffeur the kids to the arcade. In turn, you’ve convinced him to go inside with you.

The various neon lights bathe your skin, blues and oranges, pinks and greens. You can't help but think they glow a little nicer on Steve’s face.

“What’s the first game gonna be?” You turn to look at him over your shoulder as you walk between the rows of games.

“Your choice, Ace. This was your idea.”

“Fine by me,” you shrug a shoulder, grinning.

Falling into conversation with Steve proves to still feel natural. You’ve gotten the chance to spend time with him more since you talked that morning at Family Video, and it’s paid off. Light teasing and check-ins are what they used to be before.

The part that still makes your heart beat faster, almost like it’s trying to find his, is what hangs in the silence. There's knowledge there; the silence used to be comfortable, and now, it’s full of questions and tension. What’s too much? What crosses the line of friendship you’ve had to draw?

If you’re being honest, being Steve’s friend almost makes you miss him more. You had to do it this way, though, if only to protect yourself from losing him ever again.

You’ve been pushing away any thoughts of Steve as a boyfriend as far away as you can.

“Okay,” you stop in front of Pac-Man.

“A classic,” he nods, putting change into the slot. “Ladies first.”

“Scared, Harrington?”

“Of you?” He shakes his head. “Never.”

Of what he feels for you, maybe.

You play well, and Steve watches your hands move as you do. He watches your eyes as they flit about the screen, your tongue poking between your lips in concentration. Watches, still, when you throw your head back and groan when you lose.

“My turn,” he says, bumping you over with his hips.

Despite his confidence, Steve loses really, really fast.

“It’s broken,” he declares.

“It’s not,” you say. “Try again.”

“You just like to see me lose.”

You wiggle your way in front of him so that his arms cage you in, one on either side of you, leaning on the game. “I’ll show you.”

He hopes he isn’t breathing as hard as he thinks he is. He can feel the ghost of your back against his chest, so, so close. He slips another coin into the slot and lets you guide his hands to the controls.

His hands are just as warm as you remember. Solid and softer than they look. You refrain from interlocking your fingers with his and focus on guiding him through the game. It’d be so easy to hold his hand, though. Muscle memory.

This time around, even when the screen tells him ‘game over,’ Steve feels like he’s won something at the slightest bit of contact you’d initiated.

Dustin finds the two of you, still playing Pac-Man, and taps his wrist. Duty calls.

After dropping the kids off, the car much quieter, you let yourself look at Steve as he drives. His side profile, the slope of his nose and line of his jaw, the way he squints at road signs.

“You should be wearing your glasses,” you say. You’re not even sure if he still has them.

“You know I hate those things.”

It’s true, you do know that. He barely even wore them around you when you’d been dating. They made him shy, even though you told him he looks pretty either way, any way.

You find that you still know a lot of things.

You still know him. You know that he owns a pair of reading glasses. You know that he scratches the back of his neck when he’s nervous. You know that he knuckles at his eyes when he doesn’t get enough sleep. You know that he sunburns easiest on his nose, cheeks, and shoulders. You know him. All the small things, some he may not even know himself.

You might’ve missed some stuff, but really, you still know him. You still love him, too.

That realization hits you, a gust of wind strong enough to knock you off-balance if you weren’t sitting. You’ve been trying and trying to keep it all away. Yet, here you are, looking at the strand of hair that falls over Steve's forehead, realizing you love him all over again in the passenger seat of his BMW.

Maybe you never really stopped.

“Ace, did you hear me?”

“Hm?” You blink and suddenly he’s looking at you, too. And the car’s not moving. When did that happen?

“You zoned out on me, I think,” he runs a hand through his hair, pushing that strand you'd been focused on back into place. “We’re here.”

Your house, he means.

“Sorry. Thank you for driving,” you say, reaching for the handle and popping the door open. You bonk your head in your haste to get out.

“Shit! You okay?” He says, his hand reaching for you even though you’re too far to touch.

“Yup! Never better.”

Terrified by the four letter word that hasn’t left your head since it came back in, you can’t help but try to get away from Steve, from the boy who’s drawn the feeling from you in the first place without even trying. You hurry to the door with a rushed ‘bye!’

Steve stares at your front door even after you’ve closed it, eyebrows scrunched and mouth in a confused pout. He wonders what you were thinking about as he tried to grab your attention the whole way home.

-

Steve’s made a habit of visiting you at work.

If you’re working during the day, he’ll drive over on his lunch breaks and be sure to be seated in your section. If you’re working evenings, he’ll make some excuse about not wanting to cook dinner and still, he requests your section.

He‘s been coming so often that the hostesses don’t even wait for him to ask, they just nod and seat him at one of your tables.

You’ve had a lot of time to let your rediscovered love for Steve simmer, but it’s always there, making you smile like an idiot when you see him, making you stop yourself from reaching for his hand whenever it’s close enough.

It was naive of you to think you could limit yourself to friendly feelings for him. You know that now.

Walking out of the back, you find him sitting at what has become his usual table. A small round one, usually for two. The chair across from him empty. You like that better than when Becky was the one sitting in it.

“I’m starting to think you have no kitchen at all,” you say, standing behind the empty seat, leaning a hand on top of it.

“You caught me.”

“Seriously, you know you don’t have to come here to see me.”

“I want to come here to see you.”

Really, at this point, Steve thinks he’d be happy to visit you anywhere. Because of that, he’s definitely spending way too much money at Enzo’s.

“Okay then,” you tuck your hair behind your ear, then grab your notepad to write down his order. “What’ll it be this time?”

As much as Steve wishes you could sit down with him, he knows you have a job to do, so he gives you his order and takes any minute of conversation you can give him.

He watches you tend to the other tables you have, your smile and the way you talk, your mannerisms and the pattern of your steps. Often, he wonders if he’d still be sitting here, watching you with something in his eyes that can only be described as longing, if he never broke up with you that day. He likes to think he would be, only he’d be allowed to kiss you goodbye the way he so often wants to.

Maybe it’s wishful thinking to believe he could get to do that again, one day.

Since he felt your hands over his those weeks ago at the arcade, he’s decided he’ll do whatever it takes to win you back. He’ll wait as long as he needs to, and do his best to prove that he won’t hurt you again.

Steve’s never stopped loving you, not for a second, and seeing your face again only reminded him of that. Being your friend again only amplified it.

Even worse, all of your friends are well aware of this. They never let him hear the end of it.

“Here you go,” you say, putting his food in front of him.

He shoots you a quick smile, “thank you.”

“‘Course. And don’t bother paying this time, it’s on me.”

“Don’t do that, I’m paying.”

“I already did it, okay? Just shut up and let me.”

When you walk away, he shakes his head and smiles at your retreating figure. Classic Ace, he thinks, so insistent on doing nice things. Yeah, he’ll wait years if he has to.

You chat with him when you can, telling him about a customer who’d yelled at you earlier in your shift over something so small, you can’t even remember why they were angry in the first place. He laughed through your story and offered to find the person and beat them up for you.

You reminded him that he usually loses fights.

A stern talking to, then, he’d said.

You giggled. Laughs like that came easy with Steve.

You were busy when he left, but when you went over to clean his table you’d found enough money left behind to pay for his food and give you a tip. You rolled your eyes at that. That’s Steve, always being the one to take care of everyone else. He can’t even let you pay for one damm meal.

He’d also left a note scrawled on a Family Video sticky note.

Thanks for letting me bug you again. Hope you’re not sick of me! -Steve x (and keep your money, please).

You folded it into a neat square and put it in your back pocket. This was a habit of his, too; leaving notes behind after he’d leave. So far, you’ve kept them all, in that same shoebox in your closet from high school.

You’re absolutely hopeless.

-

Steve didn’t have an excuse to call you, he just really wanted to see you. Or, hear your voice, at least.

“Hello?” You picked up after a couple rings.

“Ace. You busy today?”

“Mmm apart from laying down all day, no.”

“You wanna come lay down all day here?”

If he couldn’t hear you then, you would drop your face into your pillow and squeal. Instead, you press your free hand to your cheek and try to suppress your stupid grin.

“I guess I can shuffle some things around.”

“You’re awful,” he says. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Yep.”

A click and it’s quiet again.

It’s not even half an hour later that you’re knocking on the Harrington’s door. Steve opens up quickly (he’d been standing near the door waiting for you) and moves aside to let you in.

Steve scans your outfit as you walk ahead of him. You’re clad in slouchy sweats. He thinks you look beautiful. He thinks it all of the time, but there’s something about you being comfortable enough with him not to dress up that warms him from the inside out.

It reminds him of how you used to walk around his house, whenever his parents weren’t there, in your underwear and his softest t-shirt.

Baby steps, he thinks.

“Are you hungry?” He asks as you plop down onto his couch.

“I'm okay. A little tired.”

“I did ruin your plans of laying around, didn't I?”

“Ruin’s not the right word,” you say. You’d much rather be in his company than buried in your bed, anyway.

He sits next to you after turning on the TV, letting whatever’s playing stay on. There’s a respectable distance between you, your thighs close, but not touching.

“Are you happy you came back here?” Steve turns his head toward you. Here, as in Hawkins. Here, as in with him.

Your head pivots toward him, cheek on your shoulder. Your eyes find his. “Yes. Really happy.”

“Me too.”

There are a million things you could say, but then, in that moment, it feels like you don’t have to. Something silent is being shared. You look back at the TV and sink into the cushions.

As time goes on, your eyes grow heavier, blinking slowly trying to stay awake. Steve notices when your head falls forward a little and you force it back up.

“You’re tired.”

“Worked the closing shift last night.”

“You can lay down. I meant it when I said you

could do that here.”

“I’ll fall asleep.”

“That’s kinda the point.”

You frown at him. “But then you’ll be all alone.”

“Just lay down, Ace.”

You roll your eyes but do it anyway. You’d actually been ready to nap when Steve called, but figured sleep could wait.

He tries not to overthink it when he gently places a hand on the side of your head, urging you to use his lap as your pillow. You go easily and blame it on your sleepy mind.

Instinctively, once you’re settled with your cheek on his thigh, Steve pets your hair from your face. He pulls his hand back, afraid of overstepping, but you miss his touch.

“No, don’t. Feels nice.”

“Okay,” he almost whispers.

Steve’s hand goes back to your hair, pushing it from your face, letting his fingers get tangled in it before pulling them back and doing it again. You fall asleep quickly, surrounded by Steve’s scent.

You nap for about forty minutes. Steve’s hand doesn’t stop at all, afraid that you’d wake up. He hasn’t paid much attention to the TV. Instead, he’s been tracing the details of your face over and over with his eyes.

Your eyelashes kissing the skin of your under eyes, the slope of your nose, the way your lips are slightly parted and pouting. He’s known it for years now, but you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

All soft and, by his standard, absolutely perfect.

Self-indulgently, he lets his hand wander from your hair, the back of his index finger tracing a delicate line from your forehead, down your nose, and across your cheek. You stir and he feels guilty.

“Did I wake you?”

You blink your eyes open and squint, turning so you lay on your back rather than your side, looking up at him. “Nuh-uh,” you say, even though he did.

If you were woken up like that every day, well, you’d become a morning person.

“Liar.”

“Am not.” He shakes his head, you yawn. “How long did I sleep?”

“Not long. You feel better?”

“Much,” you nod, even though there’s a kink in your neck from the way you had it perched on his lap. You don’t care, it was the best sleep you’d had for a while.

You sit up and stretch until something cracks.

“Thanks for being my pillow.”

“Steve Harrington, human pillow, at your service.”

You push his shoulder lightly, “dork.”

You both laugh lightly. The sound fades when you realize how close your faces are. You reach up and brush the skin under his eye with your thumb.

“Eyelash,” you explain.

“Make a wish.”

When you were young, you wished on every birthday cake candle, every shooting star, that you’d find your person. Then, in your time with Steve, you wished to keep it. Now, as you blow the lash off your finger, you wish to have it back.

“Done.”

“What’d you wish for?”

“If it ever comes true, I’ll tell you.”

He nods, the tips of your noses brush. You can't stop your eyes from flicking to his mouth with him this close, you can feel his breaths, warm puffs of air against your skin.

Steve’s hand creeps up to cradle the back of your neck so gently you could cry. He uses it to guide you forward until your forehead is pushed against his.

“Steve.”

The whisper of his name is what snaps the rubber band. Steve tips your head up and kisses you.

It’s everything you remembered, and everything you’d forgotten, too. His lips are still soft, they still fit with yours the way puzzle pieces click together. Over time, you forgot how his feelings poured out of him when he’d kiss you. Now, he’s shy with it, slow-moving.

He pulls away, just for a second, to look at you, to check that you’re okay. You chase his mouth and he’s a goner, diving back in and inhaling deep at the feeling.

You can feel yourself melting into him, getting lost in the press of his lips against yours.

It hits you that Steve hasn’t kissed anyone since he was with you. That it’s been years since he’s last done this. I haven’t kissed anybody since we, um, broke up.

This is a big thing. Kissing Steve again is a big and scary thing. His free hand laying itself on your thigh jolts you out of it. You pull away, breathing heavy.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, pulling his hands away. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“No, no. It’s just- I shouldn’t have done that.”

You’re supposed to be pushing your feelings aside. You’re supposed to be friends, that’s it. You’re not supposed to let it get to this point again, because you know how it feels when it ends. That can’t happen again.

“No, Ace. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

“Please, don’t be sorry, okay?” You stand up, almost dizzy. “I’m just gonna go, I think.”

“Hey, come on. Stay. It won’t happen again.”

“I just need to, um, clear my head.”

You hurry to the door, trying to slip your shoes on as fast as possible. Steve catches your wrist loosely as you reach for the door.

“You can talk to me. You don’t have to leave.”

“I need to think, Steve,” you open the door. This time, he lets you. Before you close it you turn to him, “I’m not mad, I promise.”

All he can do is nod slowly and stare at the door long after you’ve closed it.

-

You meant it: you’re not mad. Well, not at Steve. You’re mad at yourself, really, for letting yourself fall for him again, for making yourself remember exactly how it feels to kiss him.

You’re not mad at Steve and yet, you haven’t been alone with him since that day. It’s for your own good, you hope. You don’t want to let yourself be with him again because you know what it feels like to lose him. It hurts and it sucks and you’d rather love him quietly than feel that ever again.

It’s game night at the Wheeler’s now, and so far, you’ve lost pretty much every game. You find it doesn’t bother you all that much when you’re around such good people.

As Nancy shuffles Uno cards, you stand, “skip me this round. I gotta pee.”

“Thank you for announcing that,” Dustin says.

“You’re welcome, Dusty,” you ruffle his hair on your way to the bathroom.

Once you’re washing your hands, you inspect yourself in the mirror. Your hair’s frizzier than you’d like and your mascara’s smudged under your eyes. You use your pinky, wet with tap water, to wipe it away.

You unlock and open the door and find Steve leaning against the wall in the hallway. Not expecting anyone to be there, you jump.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, laughing lightly.

“Why’re you standing there?”

“Waiting for the bathroom.”

You don’t point out that there are more than one bathrooms in the Wheeler’s house. Instead, you move out of the doorway and let him go in. Only, he doesn’t move.

“Okay, I lied,” he confesses. “I was waiting for you.”

“Oh. Well, here I am.”

“Yeah,” he looks you over, like he can’t help it. “Will you come home with me? So we can talk about…”

As much as you wish you could just forget about that kiss, you can’t. It hasn’t left your mind for more than five minutes at a time. Often, you find yourself pressing your fingers to your mouth, searching for the ghost of his. Besides, how can you say no to Steve saying the words ‘will you come home with me’?

“Okay,” you say quietly, then, more sure, “okay, sure.”

You walked there, and though you’d usually much prefer the comfort of the BMW, you can’t help but worry about what he wants to say the rest of the night.

Once you’ve said your goodbyes and walk towards Steve’s car, you can almost feel Robin’s knowing smile as she watches you climb into the passenger seat.

The drive feels like a dream in the sense that you blinked and it ended. You suppose time can fly when you’re lost in thought, in what-ifs.

You only realize you’ve made it to Steve’s house when you hear the click of the gearshift and the quiet of the engine shutting off that follows. You follow him inside, watching the way he fiddles with his keys, his hand flicking on the lights inside.

He leads you to his bedroom. He knows he could’ve stopped in the kitchen or the living room, but he’s most comfortable in the only room that feels completely his in the house. He needs to be comfortable for this.

You sit on the edge of his bed, and he leans on the dresser across from you.

There’s an anticipation almost humming in the air. Who will speak first, what will they say.

“So-”

“Listen-”

You speak at the same time.

“You first,” Steve offers.

“I’m sorry for running out like that. I was just overwhelmed, I guess. Had to think.”

“Don’t be sorry, please. I feel like I should be apologizing to you.”

For so much more than just that kiss. Then again, he’s not really sorry for kissing you, he’s only sorry for possibly hurting you with it.

“We were doing so good.” He furrows his brows at you in question. “At just being friends.”

“I don’t think I could ever look at you as just a friend, Ace. Not after knowing what it’s like to have you.”

You want to tell him you feel the same, you want to tell him so bad. The words are stuck in your throat. You’re so afraid, so nervous, for what could happen if you try this again.

“Do you regret kissing me?” You ask instead.

“I know I should, but I can’t regret anything with you.”

“I don’t regret it, either.”

The room seems to shrink, the air thicken. Steve’s hands clench on the edge of the dresser, holding himself back, almost.

You don’t think you want him to hold back. You want to slap yourself for it, but you’ve missed the way his kiss melted you every day since you felt it. Maybe, if you can’t tell him, you can show him how you feel.

“Kiss me again,” you say.

“What?”

He must have heard you wrong. Only, when you repeat yourself, he knows he didn’t.

“You’re sure?” He checks.

All you can do is nod, almost eagerly. He pushes off from the dresser and stands in front of you. Your knees brush against the fabric of his jeans as he moves closer. His hands gently cup your face, tilt it up so you’re looking at him.

His eyes flick between yours, and when you nudge your cheek into his hand, like an encouragement, he bends down to place his lips over yours.

It starts gently, like the last one. Steve’s lips glide over yours slowly, making sure you don’t want to pull away. It feels like high school and sneaking through windows, like popcorn kisses at the movies and the feeling of Skull Rock behind your back. It feels like the past and yet, there’s an emotion there that wasn’t before.

Longing, knowing what it feels like to lose this.

It’s gentle until your hands snake their way under Steve’s shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin, the sunshine pouring out of him. That’s when his hold on your face becomes a bit more firm, one of his thumbs pushing on your chin to get you to open it for him.

That’s when the dam seems to break.

Steve kisses you deeper and deeper, pushing himself closer and closer until you’re being laid down on the bed. He pulls away from you, his lips kiss-swollen and pink, to give you space to push yourself up to his pillows.

He tugs his shirt off before climbing over you, his hands digging into the mattress on either side of your head, his brown eyes darkened.

“You okay?” He checks.

“Yes,” you nod, “I missed you.”

You wind your arms around his neck and pull him back to you, his mouth finding yours easily. It’s been a long time since you’ve done this with Steve, but the rhythm of it all comes easily. It’s hard to forget someone when you’ve spent so long learning what they like.

He kisses you enough to feel dazed, your head a jumble of SteveSteveSteve and your hips canting towards his unconsciously. He’d been holding his weight off of you before that, but feeling you brush against him had him pushing his hips against yours, pinning you to the bed.

You broke the kiss only to catch your breath, and Steve took the time to push wet kisses down your jawline, to your neck, breathing heavy in between them.

Selfishly, possessively, he tugs the neckline of your shirt down and sucks a hickey into your collarbone, licking over it when he’s done. Your hands have buried themselves in his hair at some point, and you feel his groan against your skin when you tug.

He moves down still, pushing your shirt up to bunch underneath your bra and peck his way across your stomach.

“Steve,” you almost whine.

He peeks up at you, “yeah, baby?”

Baby. He hasn’t called you that in years. The sound of the pet name in his voice is enough to have the dampness in your panties grow.

“You’re teasing me.”

“You used to like that,” he pouts.

“It’s been too long. Please.”

He’s trying to act composed on the outside when really, the word ‘please’ leaving your mouth is enough to have him push his crotch into the mattress.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says. His hand pauses on the waistband of your pants, “can I?”

“Yes.”

He unbuttons them and tugs down the zipper, sits up on his knees to pull them down and off your legs, your socks and underwear follow.

Steve can’t believe this is happening, he can’t believe you’re there, on his bed, looking so pretty for him. He resists the urge to pinch himself.

You grow shy under his stare, his eyes focused where you’re embarrassingly wet all because of him. You try to shut your legs, but he stops you with a hand on your knee, “you’re beautiful, Ace. You don’t need to hide. It’s just me.”

You’re not sure how to tell him the reason you care so much is because it’s him of all people. Steve who you’ve known for so long, Steve who you used to have, like this. Steve, who you love.

He lays down between your legs, his arms wrapping around your thighs, thumbs running back and forth soothingly across your skin. He kisses up your thighs and pauses when his breath hits your cunt. He glances up at you for permission.

You nod, a hand finding one of his on your leg and weaving your fingers together.

You try to keep your head up to be able to see him, but as soon as he runs his tongue up your slit it falls back into the pillow, a gasp escaping you. You squeeze his hand in yours.

Steve works you quickly, so much so that it’s clear he hasn’t forgotten a single thing about you.

His tongue runs over you again and again, your slick surely all over his mouth. When it hits the bead of your clit, your free hand is in his hair again. He grunts into you at the pull, and you can’t help but moan at the feeling of it all.

When your hand squeezes his even tighter, Steve moves his free hand to your entrance, his mouth hit around your clit. He works a finger in, then a second. He curves them and searches until he finds the spot that makes you whimper out a noise he wants to hear again.

“Steve,” his name a breathy moan.

“Go on, baby. I can feel it. You wanna come?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

“I've got you.”

He works his fingers quicker, puts his mouth back on you and flicks his tongue and just like that you’re being pushed over the edge, your eyes squeezing shut and your hands holding him even tighter.

He watches as you come down, his cheek against your thigh, “so pretty.”

You manage a lazy smile, taking your hand out of his hair, “sorry. Did that hurt?”

“I liked it. You know that.”

He moves back up until his face is above yours, kissing you, letting you taste yourself on him.

Your hands trail down his back, his muscles shifting as he holds himself up. They land on the waistband of his jeans, tracing it around to his stomach, letting your fingers go further, feeling the skin just above his underwear.

You pull back from his mouth to glance down to where your fingers run back and forth over his skin, pausing to undo the button of his jeans.

“Who’s teasing now?” He says, voice low in your ear.

A shrug is your reply, followed by his zipper being pulled down slowly. His head bends to watch your hands work his pants and boxers down enough to free him, his cock hard and pink at the tip, pretty as ever.

You wrap a hand around him, “better?”

“Much.”

You work him slowly, like you’re trying to remember the feeling of him, your hand pausing at the tip to let your thumb run over it.

Steve tried to remember the way your hand felt against him when he was desperate and alone. Now, having you again, he knows his imagination could never do you justice. You’re soft in a way he never could be.

When you squeeze him a bit tighter, moving a bit quicker, he drops his head onto your shoulder, groaning.

“Ace.”

“Uh-huh?”

“If you keep doing that I’m gonna come,” he picks his head up, sets his eyes on yours, “I don’t wanna come like this.”

“Feels nice in my hand, though.”

“I can make it feel a whole lot better, if you’ll let me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I want you, Ace.”

“I want you, too.”

He pecks your lips quickly before standing to take his pants off fully. You take your shirt and bra off at the same time. It makes you nervous to be naked in front of him again, and the way he looks at you doesn’t help. It’s a searing gaze, almost burning your skin.

“Look at you,” he whispers, almost like he was saying it to himself.

He climbs over you once more when you make hands at him. His skin is warm, mirroring the way you feel all over. Steve tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, trails his hand down your neck, to your chest. He cups you in his palm, squeezing lightly then letting a thumb run over your nipple.

You bite back a whimper.

His mouth gives the tit that isn’t in his hand attention, pecking and sucking and licking.

“Steve,” you push your hips up.

“Sorry, baby. Missed these girls, too.”

You roll your eyes.

He kisses your cheek and takes the hand off your chest to hold himself, running his head up and down your slit, wetting it with your slick. When he pauses at your entrance, he looks at you.

“You’re still okay? Still want this?”

You nod, hands running in circles on the back of his shoulders, “yes. I’m ready.”

He’s big, and the stretch of him pushing into you is sharper now that you’re not used to it. He soothes you with sweet words and soft kisses to your neck.

Halfway, he checks in, “good?”

You wrap your legs around his thighs and pull him in the rest of the way, whining when his pelvis is against yours.

“Fuck,” he says into the skin of your neck, just below your ear. “You’re heaven, Ace.”

“Move, Steve,” your hands tighten on his shoulders. “Please.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, pulling back slowly only to push in again. You can feel everything, you think. Maybe because it’s been so long or because sex with someone you love is better than any other sex. Maybe it’s just Steve.

He’s all over you. His hair tickling your chin, his mouth open against your neck, breaths hot against your skin. He’s in your mind and in your heart and in you, deeper than anyone else. You feel so full. Of him, of emotion, of memories of nights you used to have just like this one.

Full of him in every way.

“God, you’re perfect,” he says. “There’s nobody like you. No one, Ace.”

“I-” love you, you almost say. “Steve.”

The pitch of your voice tells him to go faster, and he lifts his head to see your face. Mouth agape, soft moans and breaths spilling out, eyebrows scrunched, eyes falling shut when he finds your spot.

“Open your eyes,” he says, softly. “Come on, baby.”

You do, blinking them open and looking up at him. His hair is a mess around his head, sweaty strands falling over his forehead, his cheeks are flushed pink and you’re sure they’d be warm to the touch.

He drops his forehead against yours, your sounds and breaths mingling between your mouths, your noses nudging against each other with every push of his hips.

Your arms go around his neck, one hand tangling itself in the hair at the nape of his neck. You’re getting closer and closer and by the way his movements grow just a bit faster, a bit sloppier, he is, too.

“Ace. Baby, you’re there, yeah? I can feel you squeezing me,” his lips brush yours as he speaks.

“So close, Steve.”

He’s holding himself up on one elbow, trailing his free hand down to rub circles over your clit. “Come on.”

You finish with a cry of his name, your eyes squeezing shut. It’s overwhelming, the feelings that blind you. The pleasure and the affection, the heat and the love you really don’t think you could imagine. So much so that tears slip from the corners of your eyes.

He’s not far behind, “shit. Where do you want me?”

In your haze, you can barely manage a reply, “tummy.”

He pulls out and jerks himself until you can feel him coming on your skin. He moans and it’s a beautiful sound. You run your hands over his skin through it all, grounding him and yourself.

Your foreheads are still together, slick with sweat.

“Fuck,” he pecks you once, twice, three times. “You okay?”

“Really good.”

“Will you stay?”

You hadn’t even thought of leaving. You wouldn’t dream of it. Not now, at least, in your post-orgasm daze where fears and worries don’t reach you.

“Mhm,” you hum your agreement.

Steve’s grin splits his cheeks, wide and toothy and infectious enough to make you smile, too.

“I’ll be right back,” he rolls away from you, standing beside the bed. Before walking away, he bends to peck you again. He heads to the bathroom after that.

You note the freckles that dot his back and shoulders as he goes. A constellation you never forgot; burned in your memory. One you used to play connect the dots with in the mornings.

He comes back with a wet cloth, wiping his come from your stomach and then cleaning you up as gently as possible, giving a soft apology when you whimper in sensitivity.

He tosses the cloth aside when he’s done and searches his drawers for a clean pair of boxers. He tugs them on then finds a baggy sleep shirt for you. You watch him the whole time, the way he moves and the way the streetlights seeping in through the window light his skin.

Coming back to you, he tells you to sit up and puts the shirt over your head. He didn’t even have to ask, he knows what you like to sleep in. When you look at the shirt he picked, you find it’s one that used to be your favorite.

You bring the fabric to your nose and hide your grin in it.

Steve pulls the blankets over you, then himself when he lays down beside you. He doesn’t even hesitate before tugging you closer with an arm around your waist.

“I really missed you, Ace.”

“Missed you, Steve,” you reply sleepily.

He kisses your forehead.

You fall asleep easily, Steve’s fingers running back and forth over your skin, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear.

-

Steve wakes up before you do.

You’ve both moved in your sleep. Now, you lay on your stomach, face turned towards him and cheek squished into the pillow. He lays on his side, propped up by his elbow, looking at you.

He looks at you, asleep and pretty, and wonders how he could ever give you up.

His free hand tucks your hair behind your ear, away from your face, brushes his knuckles across your cheeks as lightly as possible. He moves to your arm and traces the words ‘I love you’ into your skin.

He draws the words over and over, only pulling his hand away when you rouse.

You breathe in deep before opening your eyes, moving your head on the pillow to look over at Steve properly. His eyes are already set on you, puffy with sleep and full of something you’re not sure you’re ready to face.

“Hi,” his voice is different in the morning, lower.

“Hi.”

“Sleep okay?”

“Mhm,” you stretch your legs and turn onto your side. “You?”

“Better than I have in a while, actually.”

You can tell that there’s something he wants to say, that he’s thinking of the words. It makes you nervous, your stomach twisting uncomfortably. Maybe he regrets it. Almost worse, maybe he doesn’t.

“Can I say something?”

“Steve-”

“No, let me say it. If you hate it, we can forget about it, okay?”

His eyes are soft, pleading. You can tell that whatever it is, it really matters to him and there’s no way you can ignore that.

“Okay.”

“I still love you.”

His words hang in the air, your chests both rise and fall a bit quicker, hearts beating faster in tandem.

You’ve been dreaming of him saying it to you, and yet, hearing it out loud, you can’t help but be terrified. You love him, you know you do, and it scares you. It’ll hurt worse the second time around if you lose him.

“I still love you,” he continues in your silence. “I miss you so much, Ace. I want to do it again. I want to be with you and do it right.”

“I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You didn’t. You won’t. I’ve thought of you every day since you left,” his hand finds yours atop the sheets, fingers linking. “I didn’t want to break up with you, and I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Why did you?”

He squeezes his eyes shut for a second. Squeezes your hand, too.

“I thought I was doing the right thing. You were going off to school and I’d be here and I didn’t want to hold you back. I wanted you to go and to do it fully.”

Your heart pinches in your chest. Steve really believed he’d been doing you a favor by letting you go.

“It hurt for a long time, Steve. I don’t know if I can do that again.”

“I’m not gonna hurt you again, Ace,” he swipes away the tear that falls from your cheek. “Just answer one thing for me?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you love me?”

It’s the most obvious answer in the world.

“Of course I love you, Steve. I would’ve stayed if you asked me to.”

“That’s why I did it,” his thumb runs over your cheek gently. “I couldn't let you give it all up for me. But you’re back now, and I love you and you love me. Let me try again.”

You want to say yes. So badly, you want to be with him. So why can't you just say it? It’s like glue’s been dropped down your throat, sticking all the right words in it so that nothing useful comes out. You try anyway.

“I’m just scared.”

You shut your eyes.

“Will you look at me?” You do, and right then it’s hard to feel scared anymore. He’s looking at you like he’s never been more sure of anything. “You’re my forever. I know you are. Let me show you.”

You focus on his hand in yours, his touch on your face. You focus on the fact that this is Steve. Steve who you love, who you know you want to be with past all the fear and worry.

“Okay,” you nod.

“Okay? Like, you’ll be my girl again?”

“Yes, yeah.”

His grin spreads wide enough to have his eyes crinkling at the corners. He rushes forward to kiss you, three quick pecks broken by your smiles.

“Can I tell you something?” You ask him, suddenly brave, like his kiss fixed everything.

“Anything.”

“I wished for you. On that eyelash. The day we kissed.”

He kisses you again for that.

༄

thank u for reading! if you enjoyed it please consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought it would mean a bunch <3

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington requests #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington story #steve harrington request #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington friends to lovers #steve x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #stranger things steve #steve stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

When discussing or analyzing Dazai, one thing I hope you will keep in mind when reading anything I write about him is that from my perspective, he is always, always both.

What do I mean by this? Well, I find there tends to be a general split among people who hold the opinion that "he's a manipulator and will always be manipulative" and "he's doing his best to be good and helpful and live up to Oda's last wishes for him", of which, neither is completely right - because he is both. But even among the people who hold to this dual-nature interpretation, I find that his individual actions and motivations still tend to be thought of in a dichotomous manner - is it manipulative, or genuine?

Again, I think it's always both.

Dazai has a very pragmatic view on a lot of things - he is always looking for the usefulness of things and people so that the situation turns out in his favour. He's incredibly adept at this, and his prediction and placement and careful reveals are all manipulation tactics to get his allies and enemies doing exactly what he needs them to. I don't think anyone can contest this since we see it over and over in the series.

But that's not all there is to it. He's not solely manipulative and he does, to some extent, sympathize with others - I think there are several instances of this in the series, but I want to stress that this has been apparent since Chapter 1!

For context, Dazai is recalling what Atsushi said to him a few minutes earlier, but it's very interesting that it should be this specific part of the conversation. He could've flashed back to the part where Atsushi said he had nowhere to go; no money, no food - he is about to trick him into joining, after all, and this is the key piece he uses to basically force Atsushi into the Agency. But instead it's Atsushi's self-deprecation that catches his attention, and it really does, because even during the conversation, he turns to look at him after he says this with an odd expression.

You could say that this makes Atsushi easier to manipulate, if that's your angle, but that can't be solely it, because in the later conversation with Hirotsu, we know Dazai was planning to bring Atsushi into the Agency and set him up as one half of the new Double Black the moment he met him. The panel shown there is the riverbank, set much earlier in the day than this scene. He was already planning to pair him with Akutagawa since he figured out he was the tiger, so what's with this reaction?

Well. Sometimes the simplest explanation is the best.

He manipulated Atsushi into joining with the intention of utilizing him in his future plans. He also helped him and gave him a place to belong, and importantly, he likes this kid! It's both.

I think much of it might be that his brain just kinda works way too fast - he's such a natural at crafting these elaborate plots and seeing how things connect and gathering useful people like resources that it's practically automatic - though this is not a great means when you're trying to be a kinder person. There's an omake, I believe, that has him saying "I like using my head for justice", i.e. using these underhanded means to act for the better. Not great, but those are the kind of gifts he has. He's way more suited to exploitation, but is choosing to use these tactics to save people now, which is quite reminiscent of what he tells Kyouka. Kyouka's talents lie in killing people - when what you're good at isn't who you want to be, what do you do? Well, I expect you use what you have, even if it's not ideal.

Now, about the current situation with Sigma - I think he definitely likes him, and is intrigued by him and his situation. We did get a little thought bubble where the guy amusedly compares him to Atsushi, and you can't tell me he doesn't care about Atsushi (listen to the onsen drama cd, or read 55 Minutes if you somehow don't believe me). But also, it's undeniable that Sigma is in a very vulnerable position of being homeless and having had no one be genuinely kind to him before. His trust is very easy to earn, and with the latest chapter, Dazai has now saved his life multiple times. There is, as always, a practical purpose he needs him for. And I have to be somewhat amused because Dazai is quite literally telling Sigma everything he ever wanted and needed to hear. It's a brilliant means of quickly endearing himself to Sigma - but I don't think that's all it is.

Look. The most honest moments we get in this series from Dazai are, interestingly for an expert manipulator, when people are at their most vulnerable. In spite of every pointlessly cruel act he inflicted on Akutagawa, his first meeting with him was open and transparent; much like the orphanage director, it seems he thought this treatment would make him strong and adaptable (he's wrong but that's not the point of this). He cuts Kyouka off in irritation and says "don't give me that" when she implies that she would fail the entrance exam. He tells Atsushi it's normal to cry after losing a father figure and to feel however you feel, even if that person caused you nothing but incredible pain and cannot be forgiven. He refuses to entertain Sigma's assumptions that Dazai sees himself as a superior being to him.

Selective honesty can also be utilized to great effect; Mori does this, and undoubtedly it serves this purpose for Dazai too. But I want to stress that I do sincerely believe this is all still honesty from him. Manipulation, or genuine?

Both. It's both.

#or to summarize: Dazai is a gemini (derogatory) #<- said as a fellow gemini (also derogatory) #the few exceptions to the always both rule are basically any of his interactions with odasaku #and the bit in sb where he tells chuuya about what activating corruption will entail #most everything else appears to have a dual reason. #to be clear: there's lots of ways to interpret dazai - but this is the approach i personally use in my analyses #so i'd love it if you guys would read my dazai analyses keeping this standpoint in mind :) #i think instead of debating 'is dazai bad' which is seriously kind of irrelevant to me #i'd love to talk a bit more about how dazai is actually quite helpful but also equally presumptuous about what will help people #we could also talk about the fine line between protectiveness and possessiveness with him too. #or about how drawn he is to kind people who value life likely because he's hoping to find answers or a vicarious experience #anything except the 'is he good or bad' debate. i don't like it. :/ #bsd #bsd meta #bsd analysis #bsd dazai #storyrambles #oof i never know how things like this are going to go over.

[jakesguitarsolo]

i can’t stop thinking about your impure jake thought, “Be angry all you want. Even better. How about you ride me like you hate me, then I’ll fuck you like I love you? How does that sound?”

like OH. MY GOD. 🥵🥵

thank you for sharing😩 need this turned into a fic ASAP

I can’t stop thinking about it either. I’m definitely no writer, just have a few filthy thoughts about Jake every single day of my life 🫠 BUT I’d imagine the scenario to go something like —

Warnings: minors DNI! 18+ only, SMUT, angst, fluff, arguing, negative self body talk, alcohol use, name calling, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, air/breath play, riding, probably some more but I’m new to this so forgive me.

You gave Jake the silent treatment all the way home, wanting him to figure out on his own why you were so upset. You usually loved when fans saw Jake out and wanted to say hi or get a picture. This time was different. She was very blatantly flirting with him. Right in front of you. And he was fucking flirting back? You almost couldn’t believe it, but you knew his signs well. Not to mention, in your mind, she was everything you weren’t. Tall. Blonde. Blue eyed. Skinny. The hug Jake gave her lingered for a moment too long. He stared deep into her eyes while she was going on and on about how amazing of a guitarist he was. You saw his eyes flicker from hers down to her lips and back up again. By this time, your blood was fucking boiling.

Jake finally pulled up the car up to your shared home, and you immediately exited the car practically sprinting to the door so he wouldn’t see the unshed tears in your eyes. Slamming the door before he could make it inside, you took off up the stairs to the bedroom. But he was quick behind you. You had already stripped yourself of your tight dress and threw on one of Jake’s big tshirts. Noticing that something was clearly wrong now, Jake entered the room and asked you “Sweetheart, what happened? I don’t understand why you’re so mad. I thought we were having a good night out together.” Maybe it was the few drinks in your system, but you couldn’t hold back as you screamed “Are you fucking kidding me Jake?! Don’t act like you weren’t just flirting with that gorgeous fan like the attention whore you are!” You were so angry that you were shaking. Jake chuckled. “Oh you think that’s funny? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jake slowly made his way across the room and right up to you. Your breath hitched as he pressed his warm body into yours. He bent down, cupping your jaw with his rough, calloused hands and whispered into your ear “Be angry all you want. Even better. How about you ride me like you hate me, then I’ll fuck you like I love you? How does that sound?” Fuck. Your knees went weak. Jake always knew just what to say to make you cave and give in to him. Your body constantly longed for him. Craved him. The wetness between your thighs was immediate and undeniable. You could feel his already hard cock straining against his pants. You went to look up at him wanting to kiss him, but he backed away. Not looking away from you, he unbuttoned the rest of the buttons on his shirt and pulled it off his shoulders letting it fall to the floor. Your mouth was salivating. God, he was so fucking beautiful. You never could resist him. Jake kicked off his shoes and unzipped his pants, but didn’t take them off. Just let them hang low on his hips as he got on the bed and sat up against the headboard. “Come over here and take what you want.”

You were still so damn mad at him. Part of you knew that he did it on purpose. He loved when you took control. He loved to let you take your anger out on him and then show you how much he wanted you and only you. Your pure carnal instinct took over as you went over to him on the bed, grabbed him by the throat, got on top of him, and crashed your lips hard into his. Jake smirked into the kiss, squeezing your hips and pulling you down on his lap. Urging you to grind down on him. He opened his mouth up to yours as you pushed your tongue against his. Retreating from his lips briefly, you grabbed the hem on your shirt and pulled it over your head. Jake’s hands and mouth went right to your chest as he flicked his tongue on your nipple making it hard instantly. You were already getting to work on his pants, pushing them further down trying to free his thick cock from his boxers. Jake groaned as you grabbed his cock in one hand, sat up higher on your knees, and lined him up with your soaking wet pussy. Lowering yourself slowly onto him, you threw your head back in ecstasy attempting to hold back a moan. As crystal clear as it was that you were enjoying every second of this, you were still pissed at him and wanted him to know it. “Use me however you want, sweetheart. Hate fuck me. Make yourself feel good.” Picking up the pace, your hand went back to his throat squeezing harder. Restricting his breath more and more. You could feel Jake’s body harden and tense beneath you as you rode him mercilessly, moving up and down on cock. You released your grip on his neck and moved your hand to the back of his head, up into his soft, long hair and pulled hard, angling his head back into the headboard. Jake whimpered and moaned at your harsh touch. His nails were digging into the meat of your hips when you switched up your movements and started grinding back and forth on him. Grinding your clit deliciously against his pelvis with his cock buried deep inside you. Fuck, you were close and he knew it. “Keep going, sweetheart. I can feel you squeezing me. You wanna cum on my cock? Take it. It’s all yours.” Those words were all it took. Like clockwork, you were unraveling on top of him. Cumming harder than you ever had before. Your entire body was tingling.

You felt Jake peppering light kisses all over your neck and chest as you slowly came down from your high. With glossy eyes, you looked down at him and said “Wow… Jake that was amazing. Shit.” You were still livid with him, but couldn’t help but praise him after that incredible orgasm. He grabbed you by the back of your waist, pulling you close to his body, and flipped you over so you were now underneath him. “Oh you didn’t think we were done now, did ya sweetheart? No, no, no… I know you had fun hate fucking me but it’s my turn to show you how much I want you. Show you how much I love you.” With that, he slowly started pumping in and out of you. He was still rock hard and deep inside you as he hadn’t pulled out of you from before. You moaned and closed your eyes when he started moving his hips. Jake cupped your jaw bringing his forehead flushed to yours. “Nuh-uh. Keep those eyes on me, sweetheart. I want to look into those pretty eyes when I make you cum on my cock again.” His thumb went to your bottom lip, tugging it down so your mouth was slightly parted, as he brought his lips to yours in a heated, passionate kiss. Jake continued his deep, long strokes and swallowed your soft whimpers and moans in the process. “Does that feel good, sweetheart? You were made for me. Feel how perfectly I fill you up?” You couldn’t help it as your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer, deeper into you, “Yes, Jake. Fuck. Please, more.” Your eyes welled up with tears when he quickly pulled out of you. “What the- What the hell, Jake?”

“Turn over. On your hands and knees. Now.” You obliged his demand right away. Waiting, begging for him to put his cock back inside and start fucking you again. Jake got behind you and started teasing your pussy, rubbing the head of his cock against your clit as you involuntarily arched your back more and pushed your hips back. You could tell he was smirking when he said, “Patience, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want. I want to take my time and show you how much I fucking love you.” Finally, he lined his cock up with your dripping entrance and groaned as he pushed himself inch by inch into you once again. You lowered yourself onto your forearms, sticking your ass up even more and moaned into the sheets. Jake picked up his speed, setting a relentless pace. Fucking into you deep and hard now. “Fuck, sweetheart. You look so fucking beautiful taking my cock so damn well. Do you want to see?” Before you could get a word out, he grabbed you by the neck and pulled you up so your back was pressed to his front. He pointed at the full length mirror in your bedroom, angled perfectly towards the bed for moments like these. He loved watching the look on your face as he touched and pleasured every inch of you body, and tonight was no exception. “Look at yourself. Look at how your body reacts to mine. How it needs mine. How much I need you.” You couldn’t hold back your moans at this point. Just the way he spoke to you was enough to make you cum again. He always made you feel wanted. Always made you feel appreciated. In this moment, you couldn’t even remember why you had been jealous. Jake was yours. You were his. That had been evident since you met. He could feel you getting close again so he reached around to your front and starting rubbing tight circles on your clit. He kept his eyes on your face from behind you through the mirror, almost mimicking your facial expressions. Jake got off on making you feel good. That’s all he ever wanted. It didn’t take much longer. “I love you, sweetheart. You know that, right? I love you so fucking much.” The heat started to spread throughout your body. Your body went numb for a brief second before the orgasm ripped through you, sending tidal waves of pleasure to every limb. Jake felt your walls flutter and spasm around his cock as he came with you. Filling you up with his cum and fucking it deep into your pussy. Your head fell back on his shoulder. You both attempted to calm your heavy breathing and panting as you came down together from quite possibly the best orgasm you both had ever had. Yup, you were wrong. THAT was the hardest you had ever came. Jake grabbed your chin, bringing his mouth to yours once again as he whispered “Tell me you love me too, sweetheart.” You looked into his caramel brown eyes and without hesitation said, “You know I love you, Jake. I love you so much it hurts.” He smiled, slowly pulled out of you and you both immediately missed the feeling of being as physically close as possible. He lightly kissed your lips and told you not to move. Jake cleaned you up and ushered you into the bed naked so he could hold you close as you both slowly drifted off to sleep. “I guess I should get mad at you more often.”

#GOOD MORNING I’m so sorry for this #no I’m not 😈 #this was completely self indulgent #greta van fleet #jakedown #jake kiszka #jaket kiszka #greta fic rec #greta van fluff #greta van smut #greta van fic #jake fic #jake kiska fic #jake kiszka smut #jake gvf #gvf jake