#cs two shot (for now)

[safyresky]

Winter's Rage Room

(aka, In Which Winter Invents the First Rage Room)

"What are you wearing?"

"Winter, you're not gonna believe this," Blaise said, turning on his heel excitedly. "It TURNS OUT when you let the royal tailor use her gift of future sight when making clothes, you get some really snazzy options. I mean look at this thing!" He said, whooshing his blazer out with an almost childish grin. "You love it, right?"

"You look sharp," she said, hopping down from the smooth, marble banister of town hall. She peeped up at him, smoothing the material on his shoulders. "And very attractive," Winter said, smiling when he flushed, a few sparks popping off of his fiery head.

"Don't think I haven't noticed your legs," he said, low, his breath warm on her forehead. "I see that you've also visited Sabine. What are you wearing?"

"She calls it a flapper dress," Winter said with a grin. "And I quite like it! It’s nothing like my usual cozy warm layers of skirts, but I thought it would be a fun change of pace. I mean, it’s not like the cold actually bothers me. And I was right! I feel fabulous. Look at the skirt! It's asymmetrical. And all of these beads!" She said, gleeful, plucking at one of several clicking necklaces hanging down her neck. "And it takes well to frost," she added, grabbing the skirt and pulling it out a bit. The frost she had added to the dress glinted blue in the sunlight.

"It looks great," Blaise said, admiring her. "You look great."

"Oh, stop it you," she said, with a little bit of pomp and a look that said actually, don't stop it, I quite like being fawned over.

"I will not," Blaise said.

"Good," Winter said, sizing him up. "So why red? It's not really your colour," she finished, finger on her chin.

"I know. I was impatient, and red was what she had on hand. There is an orange one in the works, though! And the shirt is orange too. I made do. But anyway, watch this. You're gonna love this. Ready?"

Winter blinked. "Sure."

Blaise's brow furrowed in concentration. The temperature went up quite a bit; and with a crack and a pop, the red of Blaise's blazer (ha) began to fissure, glowing a bright orange through the cracks.

"Ta-da!"

"Did you just lava your clothing?"

"Technically it's below the crust, so I think it's more magma right now, but yes! I did!" He said, fists on his hips, looking very proud of himself.

Winter giggled. Gently, she raised her hand, glowing white with her wintry magic, and touched a section of his jacket. It froze instantly, turning dark blue very briefly. There was a hiss, and a pop, and the ice melted off, the lava once more glowing on the jacket.

"Oh, that's rather fun, isn't it?"

Blaise threw his head back and laughed. "For you I imagine it's oodles of fun," he said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants. Pants that were tapered and fit well! No baggy pants covered by tunics, or worse, TIGHTS. No tippets, no boots (though he didn't mind boots all too much), his hair on FIRE and NOBODY telling him to put it out or else! "It's amazing, the things Sabine is creating," he said, starting forward again. "That everyone is creating. Together."

The town square buzzed. The magibeans looked so happy. They waved as Blaise walked by, sharing pleasantries and chattering amongst themselves. They were a colourful bunch; sprites with their hair elementally charged, giants in suits, a few fae breezing by in loose clothes that seemed to be one large swath of breezy material folded over itself creatively to create flowing, gorgeous, robe like gowns. Dwarves were taking kindly to a thing Sabine said were called jeans, excited at the prospect of a tough material to withstand the tough stuff they did—and that was just a smattering of the fashions that had begun to spring up all around the country.

Some magibeans carried various building supplies towards the hall; others rushed towards the shops with brightly coloured buckets of paint, chattering excitedly about how they were going to customize their storefronts, now that they could. Dryads and centaurs planted the most colourful assortment of plants you ever did see. Cobblestones were slowly being laid down, colourful as can be, the mist from the springs sparkling in the afternoon sun as it drifted through the city.

A weight, that the entire continent did not know it had been carrying, had been lifted. They could all breath again.

"You should see what my sisters have been doing in the new provinces," Winter said, following beside Blaise, her hands behind her back as she nodded politely at the magibeans walking by. Her head roamed back and forth slowly as she admired all the changes they had made since she had last come by to bother her partner after work. "Have you been south west yet?"

"No, not lately."

"Well, Spring and Summer have worked wonders on the border between those two provinces. The groves, the orchards, the fruit trees, the vines! Oh Blaise, it's gorgeous. And it's all over, too! The farmland in the east is suddenly flourishing; Autumn is beside herself with happiness! The scab is still scabbed, of course, but everything everywhere else is healthy and happy. Mother says that almost all of the vegetation on the continent seems to be flourishing, as are the people. Everyone is growing together. I'd almost say the entire continent is sparkling like it's a brand-new place. The Springs especially look as glittery as I have ever seen them. And we all have you to thank for that."

Blaise chuckled. "Well, it’s not just me. There’s a whole team of magibeans getting things in order. And…all of this? Well, it's the right thing to do," he said.

"Yes! It is! So why are you so sad?"

"Sad? I'm not. I'm not sad."

"Yes you are. I am very good at seeing sads, Mister Frost. I am an expert, after all."

Blaise stopped, glancing down at his feet, his face darkening. Winter stopped beside him, watching him carefully.

"They forbade her from using her future sight when working. Did you know that?" Blaise finally said, looking up in the distance at the springs.

"Oh."

"Queen Frost apparently had a certain aesthetic she wanted to keep to, and she made sure it was enforced." He huffed, steam coming out of his nose.

Gently, Winter grabbed his arm, hugging it tightly. She felt his muscles flex in her little arm embrace. She squeezed back.

"It seems there's quite a bit to unpack there."

"Not really. Queen Frost was always just. Like that," he said with a shrug, Winter releasing her hold on his arm. She rested her hands in the crook of his elbow, looking up at him. "What more is there to unpack?"

"Do you ever think about yourself, Blaise?"

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean," Winter said, letting go and stepping in front of him, a little hill of snow happy to come into existence and give her a boost so she could stare directly into his eyes. "You put everyone first," she said, smoothing the round lapels on his jacket. "Everyone. But what about yourself? When do you have time for yourself?"

"When I'm with you," he said, gently caressing her face.

"Oh please," she replied with an eye roll, gently taking his hand off of her cheek and holding it in hers. "We both know that you always put me first."

"I thought you liked being the centre of attention," Blaise teased.

Winter laughed. "Pish posh. I like attention, yes, but I like you even more," she said, booping his nose. "And that's why I waited for you after work today! I am taking you on a date," she said, confidently, crossing her arms with a satisfied smile.

"Oh really?"

"Yes," she insisted. "I even dressed for the occasion," she reminded him, readjusting her arms to make sure all the bracelets she was wearing clinked.

Blaise smirked. With a tap of his foot, the snow below Winter melted.

Her smug exterior dropped; with a cute little meep, she found herself stepping down rather forcefully. She grimaced, already dreading the horrid feeling in her ankles that would rattle around for a bit when she hit the ground.

But, before she could even brace for impact, Winter was suddenly engulfed by a pair of very warm arms right around her waist, and pulled forward. Unscrupulously twirled about, she found herself pressed into Blaise's just as warm chest. She looked up, ready to bite, Blaise's bemused look stopping her in her tracks.

"I'm sorry, was that a-did you just meep?!"

"You melted my snow step!" She said, flustered.

"That was the cutest sound I've ever heard!"

"Blaise, my snow step!" she said with a cute little pout.

"Gods above. That meep could soften the hardest of hearts!"

Pouting, Winter squirmed, pulling herself up and seating herself on Blaise's forearms. He adjusted accordingly, supporting her as best as he could while trying not to think of her...well. Butt. Her butt.

She crossed her arms, still pouting. "I'm trying to be all suave, like you usually are, and you are making it very hard to do so!"

"You think I'm suave?" Blaise asked, genuinely.

"I think you are many things," Winter replied, her gaze softening. "And suave is one of them. Smooth, too. And sculpted. And sweet and kind and caring and also, very annoying. That poor snow step never did anything to you!"

Blaise chuckled. "It got in my way of you," he said, placing her down gently.

She cleared her throat, flushed, and dusted off her dress. "Now then. May I continue?"

"Go right ahead," Blaise said with a wave, shoving his hands back in his pockets.

"Great, perfect, thank you." She shook her arms, the beads and bangles clinking back into place. "You look out for everyone, but I don't think you look out for yourself much. This latest undertaking of yours has been lovely! Very lovely. Look at how this world is breathing now! There's so much colour, and laughter, and freedom...but I'm sure it's been bringing up all sorts of feelings for you, and I have just the thing for processing them," she said, excitement lighting up her delicate little features.

Blaise looked down at his shoes, thoughtful. Dismantling the monarchy and the, frankly, insane rules they had enforced had been a very long road. A century in and they had barely scratched the surface; eager to breath new life into the city, Blaise and Mother Nature had decided to tackle the "etiquette" rules, for lack of a better term. The governors of the new provinces had agreed, and things were going swimmingly.

But Winter was right, though Blaise didn't want to say it. Saying it would make it all real, and he didn't think he could weather the emotions all of that would bring up. The LAST thing he needed was his political career tarnished by an angry outburst when it had only just started.

"How did you know?”

"Your shoulders," Winter said, tilting her head. "They're more squared up, as of late. And you've been clenching your jaw. And all of you is so tense. I mean, you are rather muscular—"

"Oh ho ho, am I now?"

"Shut up," Winter said, flushing and looking away.

"Muscular, sculpted—"

"Annoying," Winter reminded him, still looking away.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll...tone it down a notch."

"Not stopping, though?"

"Nope! Never."

Winter laughed. "Good. I like when you tease. Just not when I'm trying to be very very nice to you!"

"You're always very very nice to me."

"Well. You're worth it," Winter said with a little shrug.

Now it was Blaise's turn to flush and look away. He cleared his throat. Winter rubbed her arm. They glanced back at one another; opened up their mouths to speak. Realized the other was speaking. Laughed.

"You, uh, had something in mind?"

"Mhmm," Winter said, nodding a little too fast, fingers pressed together. "Come along with me?" she asked, holding out a hand.

"Always," Blaise replied, grabbing it.

"Excellent!" And, with strength he had no idea the season possessed, Blaise was dragged away from town, towards the North.

---

"So I started doing this thing, many many centuries ago," Winter began, running alongside the trees, dragging Blaise behind her, “when it all became too much," she finished. She stopped briefly, glancing around the snowy paths in the foothills, pulling Blaise along once more when she found the path she was looking for. "Though I barely recall it now, it was very hard after the Call to go from the life I knew to the life I have now."

Blaise tugged her hand, stopping her in her tracks. Squeezing it, he looked at her softly. "What was it like?" he asked. "I never...things didn't change much for me at all after the Call. I can't imagine what it was like…would’ve been like...I kind of envied you and your sisters, in all honesty."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Blaise replied, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck. "I, uh. Well, you see what I've been doing. With everyone. And I've told you about my family. It's not that I don't love them, or anything. It's just. Not the same as what you have. I’ve always wanted that.”

"I can hardly blame you. Mother Nature is a wonderful mother, and I love all of my sisters dearly. Even Spring. I'd never consider them anything but. Nevertheless," she said, taking a careful step forward. "It was a hard adjustment to make, especially when you're so little and don't quite know what's going on."

"Tell me about it," Blaise said, genuinely, as they continued at a much more reasonable pace. "Please. That is, if it doesn't, ah. You know. Upset you, or. Or anything."

"Well, I can hardly recall them now, but I…I loved my parents. My mother was…she was as cold as her title, and she kept that cool facade up to everyone she interacted with. Except for my father. She let her guard down with him. He was rather silly," Winter said with a soft laugh. "My memories are so faint now, but I remember he'd do such silly dances, make such funny noises, and he'd have the most pointless spells at his disposal, that did nothing practical—but they made me laugh. They made her laugh. And I suppose for him, that was all he really needed.”

"He dressed silly too, if I recall correctly. I think he came to the castle more than once in slippers."

Winter laughed. "They were bunnies! With ears! The Snow Queen hated them. But I think that just made the Winter Warlock love them more! And I do believe that deep down, Bianca found everything he did endearing. Otherwise I'm sure she wouldn't have named me after him. It was nice, I think. I don't remember feeling not nice," Winter said with a thoughtful frown as the path twirled upwards, hand still clasped in his. "Not until after the Call."

She stopped walking, looking out at the valley below them. It sparkled in the sunlight, the snow fresh. The trees were weighed down with blankets of snow, bowing low to the ground as the wind whistled in that calm, peaceful way it did in the winter. Off in the distance, one of the four rivers that branched out from the Springs sparkled, ice chunks floating along it. Everything seemed so much more...beautiful, in the winter, Blaise thought, eyes settling on the top of her head.

"It was scary," she continued, taking a seat on the edge of the path. Gently, and quietly, Blaise sat beside her, squeezing her hand and paying full attention.

She smiled up at him, squeezing back. "Bianca carried me out of her castle so fast. Winter followed behind us. I remember watching the pink light hit our home, and the towers tumbled; my little room was gone in the blink of an eye. The pink light bounced off of everywhere. Winter hurried us along, but he couldn't keep up. Bianca tried to go back for him, but he wouldn't let her stop. It was the fastest goodbye I'd ever experienced with him. And the final one, to boot. Whoosh!" she said, lifting her hands. "Pink light engulfed him, and he was gone. Just like that." She sighed. "I hid in my mother's shawl the rest of the way."

"I'd be scared too, if I were you."

"Really? You'd be scared?"

"Uh, yeah. What, do you think I don't get scared?"

Winter tilted her head, surveying him with a mix of curiosity and thoughtfulness, the corners of her mouth twitching as she tried to hold back a smile, eyes alight with mischief. "Perhaps," she finally said, the grin peeking out.

Blaise laughed. "I've been scared before! Plenty of times! Honest!"

"I'm not so sure I believe you," Winter said. "But we'll dig into that later."

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you can't wait to tear me apart, but not in a fun way! In a sort of I need to study you kind of way."

"Is that not fun?"

"Well, I don't know! I'm the one being studied! And not in the fun way!"

"Which is?"

"Y-you know," Blaise said, blushing. "Your place or mine? Let me get a closer look at your face? With my whole face? That sorta thing?"

Winter choked back a laugh, a hand covering her mouth, her face fast turning red. "Blaise! You absolute scoundrel."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment!"

"I take them as I go," he teased, squeezing her hand.

"Don't worry, darling. I'm not going to dissect you. As much as I love all your muscles, I quite miss the soft bits that are around when you're not holding a ton of tension in your everything."

Blaise sighed. "I know you do. So do I,” he admitted, scooting closer to her. Finding comfort in the cold press of her skin against him. “What happened next?”

"Hmm?"

"After your dad..."

"Oh! Right! Well, my mother brought me to the little hideaway they made for me, to keep me safe. You know, just in case. And she made sure I was cozy and set for the long term and, well, the Call caught up to us. She gave me a kiss, a smile, and uttered last words I don't remember because that's when it took her, too,” she said with a sigh, laying her head on his shoulder. “I was alone. And of course, after that, when the sky turned back to stars and the pink was gone, I wandered. Went back home—it was gone. Wasn't sure what to do until Summer started melting all the snow. Their snow, that I had watched them place down together. Helped them with, even. It was very upsetting, and I stopped Summer in her tracks and told her so right then and there! Her reply? ‘Oh snap! I found you! Let’s get going!’ And she brought me home to Tara and the other seasons, and now here I am, quite happy with Mother Nature and my sisters."

"But between that?"

"I was very unhappy. It was the very first time I ever experienced a frozen heart," she said. "I was sad. Sad that my parents were gone. I'd never see them again. And I resented them for it, the older I got. I was so sad, and post thaw I was so upset and angry, so...I found an outlet for it," she said, hopping up. “And that’s why we’re here!”

She stepped into the air, almost falling before ice formed just below her foot, stretching down the mountain. “Race you, hotshot,” she said, and down she went. "Try to keep up!" she shouted back, as she formed ice path after ice path, zig zagging down the mountainside.

Blaise grinned. He hopped up, took a few steps back and, with a running start, jumped, landing on the ice and sliding down just as fast as Winter. The pair laughed, twirling around one another until they landed in the valley, clothes dishevelled, hair windswept, and faces flushed.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine! I do this all the time! I’m the professional." Winter said. "Oop! Careful dear, it's slippery," she added, grabbing Blaise's arms.

"I'm good, I'm good," Blaise said, steadying himself and looking out at the wide valley before them, clinging to her forearms. "It's beautiful," he said, breathlessly.

"I know! I do great work and all anyone ever does is complain about how cold it is. Where's the respect for a season, hmm? My sisters don't get half the sleet I get!" she huffed, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, while the view is lovely as I do quite the amazing job, that's not why I brought you all the way out here. Watch," she said, placing a finger up in the air before Blaise could speak.

He let go of her arms, holding his up in surrender. Stepping back a pace or two, he gestured Winter forwards with a hand.

A grin, an absolutely feral grin that Blaise adored (he loved how unhinged she could be) slowly spread across her face. He stepped back again for good measure, watching as Winter cracked her knuckles, tilted her head side to side (cracks coming from her neck), and turned around, facing the pristine valley.

She stuck her arms out to her side, her fingers outstretched. She bent down a bit, her legs wide in the snow. She inhaled; held it, then exhaled. Her fingers curled in, hands glowing, and the ground below her began to shake.

The rumbling grew louder; the shaking stretched out farther and farther, until the snow all over the valley was bouncing around, the undisturbed blanket of white splitting.

There was a crack, and a shink; then another, and another, until the valley was echoing with low thrums and hums, and up Winter’s arms went, the snow exploding below her as giant pillars of ice burst out of the ground. They intersected with each other, tall and crooked, some forming arches with one another, others nearly colliding as they stopped moving, settling in their new places. Snow gently fell off the tops of the pillars, landing on the ground with multiple muffled plonks.

Winter turned around. "Ta-da!" she said, presenting the handywork.

"Look at that. Wow," Blaise said, with a low whistle.

"I know. I'm a gift to magibean kind and so underappreciated in my time."

"Not by me you're not," Blaise said, kissing the top of her head, and gazing over her at the mess of icy stalagmites, chin resting on her head, her shoulders trapped in a hug.

"So. Ah. An outlet, eh?"

"Big time," Winter said, squirming out of Blaise's embrace. "Watch and learn, hotshot," she said, skipping into the minefield. "I'd come out here, and I'd think of everything that had happened. I'd think of how rude it was that my parents just left me alone, how AWFUL it was, how they couldn't just say no to all of the stupid fae and their different factions and their dumb war, and I'd get all worked up and then, BAM," she said, with a flawless roundhouse kick into the nearest ice block. It cracked. "And then again," she said, kicking it with her other leg. The fractures deepened. "And then I'd finish them," she said, pressing her hands together and driving them right into the middle of the fracture.

In seconds, the ice shattered, fractals falling down to the ground. The top of the pillar came crashing down, shattering the little icicles that remained until it all fell into a heap, icy dust fanning out from the impact zone.

"Oh wow," Blaise said, his hair, embarrassingly, briefly flickering. He cleared his throat. "Is that how you got all, you know," he said, gesturing to Winter. "Slushy again?"

"Not at all. It's how I processed things," she said, grabbing the ends of his jacket and pulling him closer. "The slush was thanks to you," she said, booping his nose with hers and hopping backwards, leaving Blaise significantly flustered. She grinned.

"Oh," Blaise finally said, a goofy grin splitting his face. "Oh wow."

"So now it's your turn!"

"My-what? My turn? For what?"

"Property damage!" Winter said, chipper. "And I know just where to start," she said, pushing him towards the closest slab of ice. "Sabine."

"Sabine?"

"Yes. Royal tailor, gifted with foresight and forbidden to use it."

Blaise's face darkened again.

"Ou, yes, there we go. Tell me about that," Winter said, hopping up and sitting in the air, a pile of snow twirling up to meet her halfway.

Blaise placed a hand on the pillar in front of him, flat. He frowned at his reflection, looking away. He cleared his throat. "My brother and I were always held to such impossible standards. Exactly the same ones, too. And if I did something wrong, he got the blame for it too. And vice versa, though the former happened a lot more than the latter. And it’s not like I was doing anything wrong!” he said, smacking the ice below him. “I was just trying to be my own person, but goddess forbid I didn’t act exactly like my twin.”

“And then Sabine…”

“Yeah! The fuck!” Blaise finally said, the source of all magic choosing to ignore the swears sure to continue coming from this section of the country. “I thought it was just Pyros and I that had to keep up appearances,” he began, pacing back and forth, hands waving about as he spoke. “But apparently it WASN’T just us! It was almost the entirety of the royal court! And I had no fucking clue!” he said, a flaming kick shattering the icy pillar in front of him.

Blaise blinked, watching the pieces melt into the snow.

“Huh. That did feel kind of good.”

“Right?!” Winter said from her perch in the snow. “Keep going darling. The field’s yours.”

“Finding out everything my parents banned or forbade unnecessarily has been exhausting,” Blaise continued, pulling his hands down his face. “Sabine not being allowed to use her sight? Tip of the iceberg! Dave wasn’t allowed to float because goddess above forbid he appear higher than the King! And! Queen!” he said, both titles punctuated with a flaming punch, whoosh, CRACK, pop-pop-pop to the next pillar, the ice melting quickly and collapsing in on itself. “All sorts of magibeans employed within the castle weren’t allowed to do ANYTHING!” A hot slice through the air, the pillar beside him split in half, falling down on its now severed bottom half with a smack. It slid down to the ground slowly, in an almost comical fashion, landing on its side in the snow. “There was NO intermingling between stations and levels, no talking to the court unless they spoke to you first, and that was just within the castle walls, LADY of the Springs!”

One, two, three more icy pillars went down, the shards of ice hitting the snow with dulled thunks. Chest heaving, Blaise paused for a moment, back against a pillar as he focused on his breathing. “It was no way for anyone to live,” he said, quietly. “I know that because it’s how we were living! And just knowing that it wasn’t just us?” Blaise looked up. “It’s infuriating.”

Behind him, the pillar he was leaning on started to crack. It looked a bit shiny; wet. So did the ones beside it.

“How I was living,” Blaise realized. “Because that’s the thing, isn’t it?” he said, straightening up. “Pyros was fine with the way things were. I mean, you saw what he did! After I quit my studies, he just—he was fine. Just fine with the way they ran things. He saw no problems with it at all. But I did! But every time I spoke up or had a thought or reacted differently from Mom and Dad and my brother, it was an immediate lecture. That’s not how things work, they’d say. Or that’s just how it is. Or we do these things for good reasons. Like hell they did!”

He sprung off the slowly melting pillar really suddenly, his staff appearing in his hands. He stabbed it into the ground; it glowed brightly, and with a high-pitched squeal, a torrent of flames burst from the blue gem at the center, absolutely annihilating the pillars within its radius.

“Woo. Toasty,” Winter said, standing beside Blaise now. “I didn’t know staffs could do that!”

“They can do a LOT of things, when you’re actually allowed to experiment. Watch this,” Blaise said, pulling his staff out of the snow and giving it an exuberant (and definitely unnecessary) twirl. He grasped it by the base. The wood began to shift; slowly, it morphed, until it resembled a club.

“Oh, bravo!” Winter said, with a delighted little clap. “I bet you can’t get a hunk of ice across the valley.”

“Bet you I can,” Blaise said with a grin.

“Kisses if I win?”

“You mean when I win?”

“You can talk the talk, Mr. Frost, but can you hit the hit?”

“Isn’t it walk the walk?”

“Well, yes, but you will be hitting one of these lovely pillars, will you not?”

“Watch and learn, Ms. Winter.”

She stepped back, gesturing Blaise forward now.

With a grin, he hefted the bat staff in his hands, giving it a preemptive swing. Satisfied, he tightened his grip, and, bringing it as far back as he could, whacked the pillar in front of him.

It shattered; chunks of ice went flying. With another quick swing, Blaise hit one before it could fall. It went soaring across the valley. Shading his eyes with his hand, he watched as the chunk arced in the air, sunlight sparkling off it, before landing in a heap just before the riverbank.

“Boom,” he said.

Winter laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners, face flushed. Blaise shifted his weight; he watched her fondly, his staff returning to its default form just in time for him to lean on it as he watched the season laugh. She exhaled, finally, flushing when she noticed him staring at her.

Briefly, she looked down, smiling very big at the snow for a moment before composing herself. She cleared her throat, glancing back at the fiery man she absolutely adored, and tilted her head. “I know that what your parents did wasn’t fair to any of the magibeans.”

“It wasn’t. And I just let it happen,” he admitted, kicking a piece of ice that had settled by his foot. “And it wasn’t just within the castle grounds. It was the entire continent; every subdivision, every noble under their charge, they all had to adhere to these impossible standards, stifling their very essences just to keep two, quite frankly, useless magibeans happy! And I just let it happen.”

“Oh, Blaise. You are so very silly.”

“Excuse me?”

“What could you have done? You were so young, and as much a victim as everyone else was,” she said, stepping closer. “It wasn’t fair to you, either,” she finished, resting her head on his chest.

She could feel him sigh, the weight finally falling off of his shoulders. “It wasn’t.”

“And nobody blames you, darling! Nobody. You were just trying to survive.”

Dismissing his staff, he grabbed Winter, pulling her in tightly. “I know,” he said, trying hard to keep the tears out of his voice. “I know.” He gave her one last squeeze before breaking the hug, his hands resting on her shoulders. “But it still wasn’t fair. And the worst is, you know, they had the ability to make things fair for everyone! But they didn’t,” he said, his face darkening, his hair burning higher.

“But you do,” Winter said with a soft smile. “And you are. And it’s most definitely going to be a very long road ahead, but you’re doing what you can now. It is enough. I know you don’t feel like it is,” she continued, shrugging his hands off of her shoulders and grabbing them in hers, “but it is. I promise. So you should stop beating yourself up about it all, alright? And instead, beat up all of this,” she said, gesturing with both her hands and his, towards the field of half melted ice pillars.

Blaise smiled, squeezing her hands tightly. “You are so good to me.”

“I know,” she said, with a silly little grin.

Blaise laughed, sweeping her right off of her feet and pulling her into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he said, quietly in her ear. “And I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered back, pecking the side of his head (since that was what was closest to her). “I understand. And I’m here for you, Blaise. Always,” she said, giving him a little squeeze. “You don’t need to take responsibility for everything; you don’t deserve to. You deserve to treat yourself better.” She pulled back enough to look up at him and smile. “And you’re already working wonders, now that you no longer have to survive. Now that you have the opportunity to make a difference, and can make a difference, you are.”

“And everyone who can help is helping,” Blaise said. “It’s…nice.”

“It really is! We’ll all be okay, Blaise dear. You’ll be okay.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. And I’m always right,” she said, with utmost certainty. “Now then. Property damage?” she asked, gesturing out to the field of pillars.

“Property damage,” Blaise agreed, grabbing her hand. “Shall we go misplace a bunch of aggression?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she said, taking his hand and launching them both into the field.

---

Time passed; hours, minutes, neither really knew. Time practically stood still when they were together. And certainly it felt as though it was now, as they lay down face by face in the snow, surrounded by tiny little beads of half melted ice chips. The moon glowed in the sky, the stars sparkling brightly. The once smooth blanket of snow was well trodden, now, flattened to the ground and frozen solid in some places.  

They had collapsed together, catching their breath as the remnants of the last few pillars melted away, feeling a lot lighter now that they had exploded a ton of ice while venting about everything that had happened. A shooting star passed high above them, chests finally slowing down as the pair caught their breath.

“I believe someone owes me kisses?”

“Oh yes! I do, don’t I?” Winter said, springing right up and throwing herself on top of Blaise.

“Oof,” he said, reaching up and pulling her in close. “You take my breath away.”

“That’d be the body slam I just did,” she said, kissing the tip of his nose. And then his forehead. And then his cheek. And then the other cheek, and then any itty-bitty speck of space she could find on his face. Nowhere was safe. Nowhere.

Not that he minded, of course; he only minded when she stopped her onslaught.

“Excuse me. I was promised kisses? Plural?!”

Winter laughed, crossing her arms on his chest and leaning on them. “I am aware.”

Blaise quirked an eyebrow, throwing his hands behind his head and staring at her, suspiciously. She was plotting; he knew it. “Well, where are they?”

“Hmm. Good question! Either at your place, or mine, I should think,” she said.

“OH! Nice throwback,” he said.

“Thank you kindly,” she replied, watching as his brow furrowed in thought for but a moment.

“Yours is closer,” he decided, hair igniting as, with a devious smirk, he grabbed her around the waist, wasting no time whatsoever in poofing them right into the pile of blankets and plethora of pillows that covered her bed.

---

(The next morning, he found himself awoken by Summer’s very loud barge into Winter’s room. His fellow summer sprite’s eyes grew wide when she realized he was right beside Winter, and she screamed, excited.

“Ou, Winter! You go girl! Get it!”

“Get out get out get OUT!” Winter yelled, throwing a bunch of pillows at her sister.

Summer cackled, running right out of the room. “WAIT UNTIL I TELL SPRING AND AUTUMN!”

“DO NOT!” Winter yelled back, hopping out of the sheets and giving chase.

Blaise chuckled. He loved staying over at Winter’s place).

---

I started writing this a month ago?? According to my drafts??? I was coping with some HORRORS and using Blinter to do it. Finally finished it today! It is DELIGHTFUL and I am HOPING that the horrors that INSPIRED this are finally finished for now. Or at least getting better. RELATIONSHIPS ARE HARD, ESPESH WHEN UR PARTNER IS VERY BLAISE CODED AND HAVING A ROUGH GO OF IT AND YOU CAN'T ACTUALLY MAKE A GIANT FIELD OF ICE FOR THE BOTH OF YOU TO SMASH UP BUT GOD YOU WISH YOU COULD!

Anyway.

This is roughly a century or so after the War of Succession (Millennia War, Civil War, I've given it like 70 names lol). So they've been together for a hot (pun intended) minute! I imagine they get hitched shortly after this and, well, you know, this happens >:).

Enjoy the fluff!

[jensthwa]

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

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

San is your first love. He broke your heart and played with your feelings without even kissing you back when you two were in highschool. Now, many years later, you do your best to avoid crossing paths with him because there's just no way you could ever hate him, but there's also no way you two can be friends again. But his best friend is also one of your best friends, so there's only so much you can do to avoid San when he arranges a dinner you're forced to go to.

PAIRING: first love!choi san x afab reader.

GENRE: one shot (fluff, angst, smut)

WORD COUNT: 20k (yikes).

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, unnecesary pinning, a looot of context, bad friends :(, some arguing, tension, drinking and drunk behavior, tears, making out, description of female anatomy, oral (f reciving), fingering, love making, pet names (babe, baby), flirty seonghwa, wooyoung being a little shit again but also a genius, gyuri almost commiting a crime.

NOTES: hi everyone! this is a lenghty one, i know, but trust me when I say the context is necessary to understand what reader goes through with san. also, some of this may or may not have happened to me (have fun figuring out which part) (it's quite obvious tbh). THIS IS PART OF THE SHOW AND TELL UNIVERSE BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE, even though there's some references and characters that you can only know if you read s&t lol. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: august 06 2024.

permanent taglist: @hotteokkay, @potatomountain, @fairylover68

masterlist.

You and Choi San go way back. 

Well, it's nine years way back? You were only fourteen when you first saw him. 

He moved back to your area of the city a year after you moved from an entirely different one. You thought you knew every school secret there ever was, provided by your new best friend, Gyuri, but she didn't tell you about him at all. 

She claimed that it was because he didn't cause any stir the years they studied together before and after spending a whole first period in your eighth grade classroom with him at the back of the class, silently taking notes, you couldn't phantom why.

He was great at every subject, seemed to have a lot of popular friends and was, overall, a pretty nice guy. He was also very cute, skinny but you could tell he was the kind of guy who played a sport outside of school hours and he had a cute pair of dimples that showed everytime you scanned the classroom just to lay eyes on him. 

Choi San was a perfect boy to crush on, even a perfect guy just to have as eye candy during recess. You felt really strongly about him, not really forming a full opinion although your gut told you right away you were right. There was something about him… but you only figured that something until later, next year, starting your ninth grade. 

Gyuri and you were avid readers. Precocious girls, with minds way above your age. All your teachers praised came laced with the same compliment so you both decided that was the truth. You rejoiced in it, thinking you shared things in common with the grown ups and decided that that was the key to feeling a little superior in comparison to the rest of your classmates, who neither of you liked very much. 

Until they all decided to start dating each other and you two realized you were nothing but two kids with great imaginations and a love for school, praise and fictional men that couldn't be translated to the real world without sounding delusional and weird. 

So you decided to do something about it. And so, on a random Tuesday recess, you two scanned the crowd trying to find two boys (or a boy and a girl, because you always knew you liked girls too) worthy of your affections. One for her, one for you. Bonus points if the two of them were also best friends, of course. 

Double dates were all the buzz at the time anyways. 

Besides, only then they could understand the bond you and Gyuri had. Sisterhood like no other, nevermind Gyuri actually had an older sister and a niece at the ripe age of fifteen. 

And so when your index finger scanned the crowd and eliminated at least three potential crushes before landing on Choi San, you felt like it was meant to be. 

You see, his best friend, Jung Wooyoung, was perfect for Gyuri to crush on. He was almost as tall as she was at the time and his easy, outgoing personality was compatible with her book crush at the time as well. 

He also flirted with her on several occasions before that. 

So it was meant to be. 

Choi San, on the other hand, had never even glanced in your direction before. 

Just like your book crush did before he fell in love with the main character. 

See? Meant. To. Be. 

It was decided then that, although Choi San was not going to be your first crush ever, he was going to be the guy that motivated you to be at school for the time being, because math gets really boring after trying and failing at least ten times. 

You thought nothing of it when it felt a little forced, when you couldn't blush at all at the sight of him and you gathered that it didn't need to happen like in the books you read. You simply needed to say his name when someone asked you if you had a crush on anyone and that was enough to be in symphony with the rest of your classmates. 

Your longing glances were caught once or twice by him and you brushed the weird flip your stomach did everytime he looked away, blushing a little. You never really cared when it happened, really, knowing his crowd and your crowd (Gyuri and you) would never even cross paths in the first place. 

You two kept to yourselves and your little book unofficial book club, sitting on the floor at lunch time and cursing everyone who dared to call you weird for it. San and Wooyoung had a crowd of people at the loudest table laughing with them over stupid teen jokes and, uh, sports? You didn't even know. 

And then the unimaginable happened. 

Jung Wooyoung sat down, criss cross applesauce and everything, in front of you on a random Monday afternoon while you and Gyuri discussed the english assignment due next period. 

Gyuri was not too excited about that. 

Turns out, the only one excited to have a crush at school was you. She was very much still in the Lonely Hearts Club phase while you skipped all the way to your The Notebook phase and she was, in her own words, too afraid to admit it when you came up with your crush plan. 

You forgave her, of course, and decided to wait for her as long as needed because you were certainly not about to be an individual and have a crush on your own. 

And by the time Wooyoung smiled at you both and introduced himself to you, like you weren't in the same class for a year already, you thought your pretend crush on his best friend evaporated and joined the void superficial and fleeting interests you had. 

But then Choi San sat beside him, his knee brushing against yours in the process, and you knew you would have to issue a formal apology to your best and only friend for leaving her behind on this little thing. 

Because, oh boy, were you crushing on Choi San. 

You felt the blush rush to your cheeks and then fell silent while your friend and his friend discussed Fifty Shades of Grey for some reason you never cared enough to discover and you knew you were done for.

It was the first time seeing his dimples in full action, so close to you, so you completely stopped functioning all together. Amazing. 

When you decided to have a crush, you never took into account that you were, actually, quite shy. And he really wasn't, but you noticed that he knew when to talk and what to say and with your friend being a lot more outgoing that you were it gave you the comfort that she would speak for the both of you while you admired from the sidelines as your little duo became a group of friends you still miss deeply to this day. 

He was funny and you laughed at your jokes even though you pretended to be tired and completely worn out by the school day, resting your head on Gyuri’s shoulder and stealing glances at the boy while she kept arguing with his best friend. 

Wooyoung was popular and liked enough to have a few people sit with you later that week, people who never even knew you existed before that. They were good friends with San as well, so you tried your best to keep up with everyone until she sat down next to you one day. 

Arin was not really a bad person. She just was a bit conceited, calling herself princess type of conceited and you never really related to her even if she was nice to you to your face. She was absolutely gorgeous and, you found out with Wooyoung’s arm around your shoulder and a whisper to your ear, she had been San’s crush since they were both in elementary school. 

That would explain the sudden tension at the table when she sat down next to you, said hello to everyone, offered you a sweet she just bought from the cafeteria, and stared at San for the remainder of lunch time. 

You also noticed Wooyoung glaring at her a little and he later explained to you that he didn't really like her all that much. She loved attention and San gave her attention, so she would intentionally flirt with him to get her ego stroked in return. 

It didn't really matter how he felt about the girl, though, he didn't have to like her just because his best friend did. And when you caught her batting her eyelashes at San, you knew you didn't even stand a chance.

You tried to hide the disappointed look on your face but both Gyuri and Wooyoung looked at you while the two of them flirted endlessly for the remainder of lunch time and you figured you were doing a pretty shitty job at it. He didn't glance at you once either way, so it didn't really matter. 

Arin did but she just complimented your eyes and then started a conversation with someone across the table, her annoying sweet and fake voice making your right ear ring in disapproval. 

Either way, you ended up becoming her friend. Gyuri was not very fond of her and neither were you, but you all went to the bathroom together, did your makeup together, did school projects together and then sat everyday at lunch together with the rest of the guys who were, in one way or another, trying to get her to like them. 

Because, once again, she was a sight for sore eyes. 

It wasn't until later, in the middle of the year, that one of them did. Not Choi San, but Choi Yeonjun. 

You remember the day you found out they were together and the gut wrenching concern you felt when you found out that San was not at school that day. 

It was after summer break, you remember Wooyoung telling you that San and his family took a few more days of vacation and if you couldn't believe your eyes when you saw the new couple sharing a sweet kiss at the designated lunch table, you could only imagine how San felt the next day when he saw the same image right in front of him. 

Yeonjun was his friend, right? He knew about his crush and decided to get together with her anyways. Surely, San was devastated. 

But he wasn't. He just cheered them on and then laughed along when Yeonjun shoved his arm playfully after the hollering. 

But you saw through it. 

Your crush on San made you observant. Made you believe you knew him better than everyone else and so, after lunch, you took out your phone and pulled up the notes app. Writing a simple “are you okay?” in it and passing it to him the next second, you were surprised with yourself before you saw him frown a bit. And then he understood what you meant. 

Nodding, he passed you the phone back, before giving you a reassuring smile that you treasured in your heart and saw in your dreams. 

You didn't believe him, though, but stayed close enough to everything related to the situation to hold Arin in your arms when Yeonjun inevitably broke her heart. 

Starting your tenth year, he moved back to his city and decided to play the I thought we weren't even that serious card on her. Which was nasty, considering love it's very, very serious for a sixteen year old girl. 

By this point, you were all a little family and hanging out after school and on the weekends was not unusual, so it didn't surprise you when Arin invited you, and only you, to her house after choir practice on a Thursday. 

She lent you her older sister’s clothes to wear (because her's would never fit you. Her words, not yours) and took you to a walk in the park just to break your heart for the first time ever. 

“You know… I thought love was something I couldn't find in highschool anymore. But San it's really making an effort, you know? He's been there for me ever since Yeonjun left and… Well, I think he's going to ask me to be his girlfriend tomorrow.” 

Grasping the park bench she forced you to sit at, you only nodded and let out a shuddering breath that gave away what she was trying to figure out since earlier that day. 

“I'll say yes but only if you say it's okay to do so.” 

Arin was not really your friend, the same way Yeonjun was not really San’s friend. 

Because there's no way you would ever be okay with it. 

And yet, you tried your best to give her a smile and pretend the sound of your heart breaking didn't bring tears to your eyes “Of course it's okay. Why wouldn't it be?” 

A week later, they were officially dating. The rumors spread around like a wildfire and it took out of you with everyone calling San a nasty rebound and you doing your best to prioritize the ghost of the friendship you had with him. That whole fiasco lasted a few months. 

Months in which your friendship with everyone just grew stronger. Gyuri was still your best friend, Wooyoung was crushing on her hard and everyone knew, Arin and San were a steady couple, a new girl joined your class that year, named Yeri, and the principal assigned her to you because she thought you two would get along really well. 

“I like girls,” was like, the third thing she ever told you while you were showing her the school “I'm just telling you now because I don't plan on hiding it and you are wearing a pride pin.” 

“Oh, that's cool. I like girls too,” you smiled, looking at your pride pin “I didn't hide it either and no one gave me shit about it, so, don't worry.” 

Yeri also liked the mainstream music that you liked and soon she became a new addition to your group. And with Arin spending all of her free time with San, you, Gyuri and Yeri only grew closer and closer. You didn't have Arin’s voice in your ear telling you the million reasons she found Yeri uncool, but you saw it in her face every time the table laughed at one of Yeri’s jokes. 

And so, it went on for a while: 

Your mom driving all of you around in her car to the beach, to dinner, to the movies and letting you have mixed sleepovers at your house (meaning you, Arin, Gyuri, Wooyoung, Yeri and San) was fun and all, but it was not enough to distract yourself entirely. Everytime you glanced at the couple, that sinking feeling in your chest would appear and sulk your whole mood for, at least, fifteen minutes.  

Fifteen minutes of pretending you were okay with them before forgetting completely for an hour or so and then the cycle would repeat until you were alone staring at the ceiling and doing your best to not cry about it.

All it took was your first kiss being Yeri of all people for you to decide that it was time to retire your crush for Choi San once and for all. 

And for a while, it all went according to plan. You decided to tell Gyuri that it was okay because he was your friend first and the guy that you liked second and that you were not fourteen and desperate for love anymore, that it was time to go on with your life as if nothing really happened in the first place. 

You were hooking up with Yeri anyways, so it seemed like you were doing just fine. 

You grew closer to San as well and even though he mostly talked to you about Arin and whatever tantrum she was throwing at the time, you really started to feel some sense of normalcy within you when it came to just speaking to him. 

You no longer blushed when he made you laugh, you no longer looked at him with the longing of a past life lover and you were really happy for him because, at the end of the day, he was really happy with his relationship. 

Until winter break came around and Arin decided to give San his first heartbreak ever. 

She decided to call for a break in their relationship because she was, in his words, too overwhelmed with the amount of love and attention she was getting from him. 

Which was completely fucking insane considering the fact she forced him to save her contact as Princess Arin and all. 

So naturally, you sided with him. And she didn't take it to heart because everyone knew you liked San anyways. 

She told you the news herself through Facebook after asking you to explain to her the English assignment due next day and then she decided to tell you something you'll never understand because you no longer are on speaking terms with her: 

Princess Arin: u know i broke up with him because of u right? :) 

Princess Arin: one day I'll tell u all abt it. 

She never told you anything about it. And by then, you were starting your last year and San was your best friend who hung out with you everyday after school, calling you late at night and helping you with assignments through Skype. So you didn't really care. 

And as the day passed, you started understanding the connection they talked about in books and movies. You thought you did before, Gyuri being your eternal person in this world, but it felt so different with San. 

Different and good. Different and achy enough for you to want to keep it in your life. 

Your dynamic was friendly, sure, but it was alright. It consisted of banter and daring stares as well as laughter and soft moments you treasured till this day. 

“It's way too early to be this annoying, Choi San.” 

“Oh, you think this is me being annoying?”

You both got an hour of detention for disturbing the class that day. 

You loved it. 

But then, after almost a month of picking up the broken pieces of his heart one by one, and your mother giving him a self-help book to make him regain the confidence he lost during the breakup process, you realized that you were in love with him and there was nothing you could do about that. 

You noticed one friday afternoon, when he offered to pay for your and your mom's ice cream at the drive through, when he scrambled to get all the change he had on him to leave a tip for the person who handed you guys the sweet treat, that there was no way you didn't love him. 

And it was confusing as fuck when everyone else started to tell you he had feelings for you as well. 

“Think about it. You text each other good morning everyday” Yeri listed with her finger and you nodded “Then, you go to school, sit together and spend the rest of the day together” another nod “Then after school you either go get ice cream together or hang out for a bit with your mom while she drives him home. And after that, you get on Skype for the reminder of the afternoon and then he calls you on your house phone and you two spend the rest of the night talking before falling asleep on the line together,” she looked at you like you were insane for even denying the accusations made against San, but she continued anyway “And then it's rinse and repeat and it has been that way since… What? Three months ago?” 

You nodded again, defeated. 

“Girl, he likes you.” she sighed, annoyed and a little tired, before sitting on your lap and kissing your lips affectionately “And you're here making out with me instead of him. You really are a lost cause.”

That didn't stop you from hooking up with her until she found a girl who's heart was not reserved for someone else, though. Said girl went to a different school and was a year younger than all of you, but she looked very happy and stopped secretly kissing you in the school bathroom like a week after they met. 

And when she finally told everyone, you were really happy for her, but San not so much. 

It was the night you thought everything was about to change. The night you thought he was about to kiss you or you were about to kiss him, whatever happened first. 

Laying in your bed, facing each other in the dim light, he thought it was the biggest form of betrayal and pouted the whole time he explained to you why. 

He thought you liked her and you realized he didn't really pay attention to you after all. Not the way you did with him. 

Bless his heart. 

You didn't kiss him that night because he wouldn't shut up about you and Yeri. 

“I mean, why couldn't it be you? She clearly liked you if you two were hooking up for over a year” and when his hand came to rest on your back, under your shirt, you breath hitched enough for him to notice it but not enough for him to just don't do anything about it except trace the curve of your silhouette with the pad of his thumb “I don't understand why anyone would pass the opportunity to be with you.” 

Huh. Maybe he did have feelings for you. 

No. He's just being a great best friend. Don't take that for granted. 

But it was impossible for you not to take Yeri’s words seriously as time went on. 

You didn't want to think he was giving you mixed signals, but yet again there was that one time when you reached behind your passenger seat in your mothers car to pinch his leg playfully after he pulled on your hair a little bit from behind, only to end up holding his hand the rest of the car trip to his house. 

His fingers slowly caressing the back of your hand were just too much for you not to get everything mixed up. 

Or that other time when your school held a Woman's Day event, and your class president decided that all the boys in the class were going to give roses to the girls.

When it was your turn to get a rose, you knew no one would give you one. But Yeri stood in line and collected a rose from the bin before the class president had the opportunity to say anything else. 

“I'll take that, thank you very much.” She turned to you, smiling. San blocked her way to you a second after. 

“And just what do you think you're doing?” 

“Giving my best girl a rose, of course.” She peeked around him, giving you a wink that you could only roll your eyes to. 

San turned to you, the fondness in his eyes making you question the decision of not pretending to be sick that day. It was too much for you to handle. 

“To the back of the line, then. I already called dibs on her,” he turned to your friend, snatching the rose from her hand in one swift move “I'll take that, thank you very much.” 

He had no idea what that meant to you back then. It was true that, at school, he behaved a little differently than when you two were alone. 

He was athletic, so he had some friends that you were sure used to ask him what the fuck was he doing wasting his time with a girl like you instead of getting a new girlfriend. 

He had a family that didn't approve of yours, too. You felt it the first time you met his mom and, even though she was nice to you and your mom, you could feel the judgemental stare she gave both of you when your mom told her she was a single parent. 

San told you that it didn't really matter, that his mom didn't have to like you because you weren't her friend, you were his. 

He played with your feelings a little too well. Wanting him, adoring him and letting yourself be consumed by the thought of him loving you back was enough to keep it going. To ignore the fluttering way your heart kept beating whenever he talked to you which was all the time. 

You assumed the way he behaved with you in private was the real him. The one who didn't care about appearances or his family approval. 

The one who cared about you. 

It was dizzying and fantastic and you thought he just might've been the love of your life. 

But then he would tell you how much it hurted when he saw Arin at school and how much he missed her, the intimacy they shared before, and reality would come crashing down and setting your delusions on fire again. 

He had sex with Arin. You would never stand a chance. 

Or so you thought he did. Except when you overheard Arin speaking to her friends and that was the first time you ever got mad at Choi San.

“And, you know, me and San were never intimate like that so I wouldn't know but I think boys have no idea how to please a woman if they tried to.” 

What? 

Oh. So he lied to you. 

And you were so upset by the thought of him making up stories of their intimate time together that it didn't even cross your mind that Arin might've been lying to save face. 

So when he came back from the bathroom and sat at his usual desk in front of you, you didn't even think about his feelings when you decided to treat him like shit for lying about something so important like sex to your face. 

“Leave me alone, San! I don't want to fucking talk to you right now!” 

The hurt expression he gave you after that is one you would never be able to forget. 

But you grew to be stubborn and a little overprotective of your own feelings, so you thought him playing the part of your best friend all these months and sweet talking to you was just another one of his lies. 

“You guys not being friends right now doesn't make any fucking sense, sweetheart.” Wooyoung's tone is careful and laced with affection, but you knew he was playing the devil's advocate on behalf of San. With his arm around Gyuri’s shoulder (by that point, they were a thing for over two months) you could swear you saw him smirk when the nickname brought a scowl to your face. 

He might've been worried, but he was also a little shit. 

“You really are going to let Arin ruin what you two have?” Your best friend was, of course, on your side. But she was your best friend for a reason and her love included pointing out when you were behaving like an infant at the age of seventeen and a half. 

“You two are practically dating and you're going to let the evil ex-girlfriend get in the way? Over something you weren't even supposed to hear in the first place? Come on.” 

Again, Wooyoung was a little shit. And you were so upset about everything that you shyness couldn't even help the fury behind your reply: 

“Stop saying that! We are not practically dating, he's in love with Arin and I'm not sure I even like him like that anymore!” Getting tired of everyone and their mother (your mother) feeding your delusions, you came to the conclusion that putting a stop to your friendship with Choi San was for the best. 

And, in doing so, you ended up breaking your own heart for the second time in your life. 

But he didn't put up an easy fight at all. You remember the feeling of pure joy when he grabbed your hand on the way to the cafeteria one day, pulling you so hard you almost ended up sitting in his lap, and the way his pleading eyes begged you to listen to him one last time. 

“Us not being friends doesn't feel right, Y/N…” he said and the word he used to categorize what both of you had hurted you, but you pushed the feeling away “Please, let's not fight anymore. I don't even know what happened, but I forgive you for yelling at me and I hope you forgive me for whatever it is you think I did.” 

Of course, you forgave him the next second without thinking too much about it. And for a while, everything went back to normal. You Skyped as usual and occasionally you let your other friends join the call even though it didn't really feel like it used to before. 

The next thing you knew, your feelings were in full bloom again and when you realized it, it was too late. 

Because by then, you had already let your childhood friend, Sunhee, join a few Skype calls and by the fourth one she invited her friend, Minseo, to them as well. 

Terrible, terrible mistake. Because even through the screen, you could see that Minseo looked a lot like Arin with the added bonus that she was down to earth and cool and liked the same things San liked.

You liked the same things San liked as well, but it never seemed to matter. 

Because not even two months after you decided to stop talking to San over a lie you weren't supposed to find out in the first place and then became friends one more time, he gets together with Minseo and you're sick to your stomach all over again. 

You hated her. Not because she was, suddenly, his girlfriend (not girlfriend girlfriend, but in a friends with benefits arrangement you never even knew why he agreed on in the first place) but because suddlenly she was so fucking obnoxious and didn't seem to like you either. 

Was it not painfully obvious San didn't have feelings for you? Why was she mad at you then? You literally brought them together! 

And all you got in return was her telling him she didn't feel comfortable with him having a girl best friend. That ungrateful bitch. 

He stopped calling. He stopped texting, he stopped carpooling with you and your mom after school and he stopped caring whether your math assignment was done or not. 

He stared pulling away more and more and it didn't matter how hard you tried to get him to talk to you, it seemed like he never really fucking cared about you in the first place. 

And by may that year, you didn't speak to San anymore. Granted, the only person he did speak to was Wooyoung, but even their friendship was falling apart. 

For the first time ever, San broke your heart firsthand. And it felt really, really fucking bad. 

You cried to your mom about it, she reminded you that you were nothing but a great friend to him and that, if he didn't take the time to appreciate that, that was his loss not yours. 

And she started hating him from that moment on. But you couldn't hate San, not even a little bit. 

Why would you hate him for not liking you back? For not loving you the way you loved hi— 

Your laptop closes down right in front of you and when you try to look up to find out who's responsible for interrupting your writing time, you get interrupted again. 

“Ouch! What the fuck, Gyuri?” the slap to the back of your head is quick and fill with rage. 

“What the fuck are you even writing. I can read from here, you know?” 

“I'm just laying my feelings down and— Ouch! Stop that!” You try to hit her back but she turns away quickly when your hands almost knock her coffee mug out of hers. 

“You can't possibly still have love for San, Y/N. It's been years.”

It's been four and a half, to be precise. But who's counting, right? 

“And why are you writing it in third person? You don't usually do that.” 

“I don't really know, Gyuri!” 

“I’m telling you, this celebratory dinner bullshit it's affecting you way more than it should,” she sighs, plopping down on the couch of your shared living room, and you leave your seat at the table to join her “He might not even show up. He has that thing with Kyungmi.” 

Kyungmi. 

You couldn't get to that part on your open document, but San left Minseo when he met Kyungmi at one of the frat parties they love to attend. Wooyoung told you that he said that it was love at first sight and you even met her briefly when you picked Gyuri up from the apartment he and San got when they started college together. 

She’s gorgeous and doesn't look like Arin or Minseo at all. It’s a different type of gorgeous. She's a year older than San and went to the same school as them and Gyuri. 

You think you might even like her better than him. 

You tried to be happy for San when you found out, but you two barely even speak a word to each other and you convinced yourself a while ago that you couldn't care less if he sees right through you and your fake smiles. 

You gathered, after everything happened, that San knew you liked him and took advantage of that. Unintentionally, but he did anyway. 

You sigh, resting your head on your best friend's shoulder. “It’s his best friend's celebratory dinner, though, he needs to be there.” 

Two seconds pass and then you both say it at the same time: “He’s in love.” 

And when San is in love, he has a one track mind with the name of his lover as the goal. 

You nod, but you can't help but to be insistent “It's Wooyoung's celebratory dinner, he needs to show up, right?” 

“I might not even show up, he's a pain in the ass.” She replies but you can tell her annoyance is not genuine and it makes you smile. 

Gyuri and Wooyoung broke up towards the end of your first year of college but you all stayed close friends. A one year relationship was not enough to fuck up the friendship they had and they decided to stay civil until, eventually, they became close friends again. 

To this day, you wonder why you and San couldn't rekindle your friendship when it became clear to you that you missed your friend and not the guy that you liked. 

Because San was always your friend first and your first love second. 

But it doesn't really matter anymore, because Gyuri is forcing you to shower and reminding you that you two need to keep Wooyoung on his best behavior tonight. 

“That girl he used to like before me is going, he said. I looked her up, she's single and he needs to get together with her because I can't take him whining about it anymore.” 

They keep things with each other way too civil, you think. 

“I'm telling you, if we don't show up he's going to do that thing where he gets drunk and makes a fool of himself. I can't have that, I'm on a mission.” 

“A mission to get your ex laid?” You ask, shampooing your hair. 

“A mission to get him a girlfriend so he can stop crying to me about feeling lonely.” 

“Maybe he wants you guys to—” The shower curtain opens and you see your best friend’s scowl before covering yourself up with your hands. 

“Gyuri!”

“Don't you dare say what you were about to say or I'm divorcing you.” 

You chuckle “Sure you are.”

You're left alone again with the water stream and she goes back to do her makeup “I told you back in ninth grade that we weren't a great fit and I was right. We can't get back together,” she sighs “It'll ruin everything.” 

“I doubt it will but you guys have been friends longer than you were boyfriend and girlfriend, so I'll just have to deal with my parents being divorced and civil.” 

“God, don't ever refer to us like that again— Oh! Speaking of parents,” you see her beam at her phone when you move the shower curtain to search for your towel and then she shows it to you “Mingi and Love just celebrated their one year anniversary!” 

Love being Mingi’s best friend. Gyuri talks to you about her college friend group all the time. The drama fuels your dinner conversations, you even follow a few of them on social media. 

“What does that have to do with parents?”

“They're the mom and dad of the group.” 

San is in that friend group, you can see him in the back of the picture and you recognize his apartment layout too. He's not the main focus of it but he's all you can see until you notice the couple sitting near him on the couch. 

The picture shows both of them, her in his lap and Mingi looking at her with stars in his eyes. 

Good for them. 

“Is that the girl he was friends with forever before they finally realized that they were in love?” 

“Yeah,” she sighs in contempt, looking down at the picture again “I was there the day it happened. I mean, not physically with them, but they left Yunho's party together and I told Wooyoung that it was finally about to happen!”

Gyuri is not a romantic person at all. Her excitement shows you that she really loves them and so you soften at the news that would usually give you and your dry love life a headache “It was the day before you called me to get you out of that awful date.” 

Ah, that also happened back then. You shudder at the memory.

“Tell them I say congrats, babe.” 

“I'm bringing you as my plus one.” 

You laugh, confused “To where?” 

“Their wedding, duh.” 

“They practically just got together,” you remind her, a year is not enough time to propose “And I don't really know them, Gyuri!” 

“They love you,” she assures you as you step out of the shower “I have been speaking about your antisocial ass for years. They can't wait to meet you.” 

“So you've been shit talking behind my back for years? Is that what I'm hearing?” 

She laughs “No, babe, that's Wooyoung's job.” 

Clearing your throat and looking at your friend through the mirror, you try to be as nonchalant as you can when you ask: “Has he… Did he tell you if…” 

“No, Y/N, I have no clue if San is going or not and Wooyoung is actually mad at him at the moment.” 

“Why?” 

She looks at you, sighing “He's been lacking as a friend lately.” 

“Hm.” 

“I hope you're not planning on swooning if you see him. Fuck him, Y/N.” 

“I know…” 

“And by fuck him I mean he doesn't deserve you or your forgiveness.” 

“He didn't do anything to me, Gyuri,” you remind her, shrugging “Not reciprocating my feelings is not a crime so I don't have to forgive him for anything.” 

You can practically feel her starting the San hate train engine, so you step out of the bathroom but her voice follows you. 

“And what about that time he ditched you for Minseo when you asked him to go with you to that medical appointment, huh?” 

“Cut it out, Gyuri…” 

But her head peaks around the corner, into the hall where you're rushing towards your room “Or that time when—” 

“Can't hear you!” Turning to look at her, she gives you an affectionate middle finger and heads back to the bathroom.

Closing the door, you lean into the thin wood and sigh, getting San’s face out of your mind so you can focus on getting ready and actually show up for Wooyoung and Wooyoung only. 

He just got a permanent position after completing his internship at a company that's your company's rival. He's going to crush you and steal clients from you but you are genuinely so happy for him. 

You should've guessed he enjoyed books as much as you did back in highschool. The debates he used to have with Gyuri were not all about flirting with her but also because he has a passion for books. 

And now he's going to work in the same field as you.

You're so proud of your friend. 

As you get ready, you remember the excitement cruising through your body when your boss trusted you enough to give you the first manuscript of a new client so you could edit it. You're sure Wooyoung is going to do better than you, taking into account that he actually went to college for this. 

You didn't. 

You met your boss at the part-time job you got in senior year, when you were trying to distract yourself from all the pain and the horrors of becoming a grown up. She was chatty, got a little too drunk on soju and told you she was starting her own book publishing company. 

When she returned months later after remembering that you told her you loved books and would love to work for as a publisher one day, she offered you a job in her company right after graduating highschool. 

You took it because you didn't think an opportunity like this would show up ever again. 

She was truly a blessing, the kind of person you never really believed in until she taught you all you needed to know about publishing and editing and encouraged you to take online classes during the nights so you could get, at least, a certification on what you do. 

You're proud of yourself too. The opportunity found you in a specific moment of your life where both your heart and your self esteem were destroyed and now you're not the person you used to be. 

Maybe that's why the possibility of facing San makes you so nervous. Collective memories are dangerous because the details never match the ones on the other person's head. 

You know who you were back then but… Are you the same person in San’s head? 

You don't even want to find out. 

Scanning your outfit in the mirror for the last time, you take the shoes you're wearing tonight out of your closet and walk over to the living room. 

Only to find Gyuri laying on the carpet under the coffee table, half dressed and on her phone. 

“You're going to mess up your hair.” 

“I don't care, I'm not going.” 

Sighing, you seat down on the couch and staring at the wood of the table covering her face. 

“What happened now?” 

“The bitch canceled!” 

“Wooyoung?” 

Poking her head out, she frowns at you “No, his first love.” 

“You were his first love.” 

“You know what I'm talking about, Y/N!” 

Laughing at her, you offer her your hand “Get dressed. Who cares if she's not going? He's not going to sulk because he's going to have you and his best friends there.” 

She whines like a child when you pull her up from the floor “I had a plan!” 

“Then make a new one, babe. We're going to be late.” 

She starts to whine again but then stops mid-groan to give you a once over. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, suddenly self-conscious about your appearance for the first time in years. 

“You look really hot…” she tells you and you fake gag at her words “Really pretty. Like a fairy and a smoke show at the same time.” 

You can't possibly look like that when you have such a simple outfit on, floor length high waist black pants and a flowy sleeve top that ties in the middle. It's barely formal but now you're thinking too hard about it. 

Blushing, you wave your hand to dismiss her compliment “Oh, my god. Go and change!” 

She rushes to her room on the opposite end of the hall and you finally breathe, looking down at your choice of fit and wondering if it's too much. 

Gyuri would've told you if that's the case, but either way it haunts your mind in the car on the way there, leg bouncing up and down under your best friend's judging gaze that only softens when you pout at her. 

“They are going to love you, babe. I'm so serious, they've been waiting years to meet you.” 

You nod because, yes, you're concerned that her friend group is not all as welcoming as she paints them to be. 

And you wish your doubts would go away but you're really, really not good at making friends. You're cautious, extremely closed off to new people and not as good with conversation no matter how much confidence you gained over the past years. 

When you walk to the loudest table at the laid back restaurant their friend Seonghwa made the reservation at, you think you won't be able to fit in with everyone else. You feel like an intruder, like Gyuri is supposed to enjoy this part of her life without you here. 

That's why you rejected every invitation they ever made. 

You celebrate birthdays with her, with Woo as well, but it's all very intimate and separate from their social circle, the one that includes the man you haven't fully faced in years. 

But you can't exactly back out now, not when one of them turns to you and seems to light up when they see you. 

“Oh? Is this her?” you recognize Hongjoong from pictures, he's the only one facing you when you approach the table, lowkey hiding behind Gyuri like a child. 

“Who?” 

“Huh?”

San is nowhere to be seen. Thank god. 

Slowly, everyone turns around and you see their faces light up with both delight and surprise. Your heart is pounding, you feel it in your throat, in your eyes, in the heat that colors your cheeks. 

But Gyuri just steps aside and presents you with a smile “This is her!” 

“Oh, Y/N!” Wooyoung gets up, rushing towards you and crashing into your frame with a crushing hug “I'm so glad you're here,” he murmurs into your hair and then turns to his friends, quiet them down “Everyone, this is Y/N, one of my best friends in the entire world.” 

He's such a dramatic human being.

You love him so much. 

Raising your hand, you shyly wave at them “Hi.” 

The entire table erupts with joy. Some of them greet you, some of them are saying that they are happy to be finally meeting you and Wooyoung grabs your arm and plops you down into the seat next to Gyuri, at the edge of the table. 

Laughing, you apologize for not meeting them sooner and then you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders. 

Panic raising, you quickly turn around to see who it is before releasing a shuddering, but calmer, breath. 

“She's a very busy woman, guys. She works for the competition, my competition,” everyone gasps at that but Wooyoung is smiling at you “and she's very good at what she does. Which means she's busy, get off her case,” he puts a glass and a can of beer in front of you “Drink, babe.” 

“Thanks, babe.” You whisper back and he leans in to peck your head before going away. 

Gyuri groans “Stop stealing that from us! It's our thing, Y/N, don't indulge him.” 

“It's his celebratory dinner…” you argue with a laugh that Hongjoong and Mingi follow. 

“Yeah! Can you get off my case tonight, Gyuri?” 

She huffs, wrapping her arms around you “I hate you all.” 

“No you don't!” 

The table laughs and everyone returns to their individual conversations when Woo sits down on his spot. 

There's a few seats left, one besides Mingi and one right in front of you but you don't think too much about it because soon Gyuri gets up to ask Yeosang something and Seonghwa occupies her seat right beside you. 

You think he can sense that you're more shy than you let on, because he doesn't include you in whatever he and Yunho were talking about and waits until he stops talking to him to turn to you. 

“So, you work for a publishing company?” 

The question caughts you off guard and you swallow the beer quickly before nodding “Y-yeah, I… Yeah.” 

He chuckles “You're nervous.” 

“I'm just not as good at meeting people as Gyuri is. She usually does the job and I tag along.” 

“I feel like I know you already, though.” He says, leaning back on his chair. 

“Because she talks a lot about me?” he nods “Yeah, she tends to do that.” 

“Wooyoung also talks a lot about you, San too… Sometimes,” your cheeks heat up and he misinterprets what it means “All good things, I promise.” 

You doubt that. 

Your brain gives you a hundred and one possible things San could've said about you. 

For some reason, none of them are good. But you choose to believe the gorgeous, long haired guy in front of you. 

“Well that's good to hear,” you take another sip of your drink before smiling at him “I was sure Woo was trash talking about me.” 

He shakes his head with a smile “He wouldn't dare, he has Gyuri on his ass all the time and I'm sure she would kill him.” 

“I'm sure she would kill him even if he didn't do it.” 

His smile grows wider “That's true,” he says, looking over at them who are, very coincidentally, fighting about something. You let out a sigh and he laughs again before clearing his throat “So, the publishing company. What kind of books do you like to edit the most?” 

Your smile grows wider too. 

For the next hour, you talk to Seonghwa about your job and how you started in it. He asks you about your classes and the challenges that you face on a daily basis and Wooyoung overhears and ends up joining the conversation as well.

You don't even hear footsteps nearing until a voice cuts everyone off. 

“I'm sorry I'm late!” 

“Baby!” Mingi gets up from his seat, but no one else does so he's stuck between the table and his girlfriend. 

“Oh, that's Love, huh?” you ask Seonghwa, Wooyoung too entertained messing with the couple to hear you anyways. 

“Yeah… Is that how Gyuri refers to her?” He frowns.

“Mhm,” you answer, leaning into him like you're about to tell him an important secret “I'm not supposed to call her that, don't tell her.” 

Seonghwa leans in too, pretending to zip his mouth shut and you laugh. 

The girl wiggles her way into the seat reserved for her and everyone lets out a groan when they smooch each other. You can only giggle and the sound draws her attention to you “Y/N?” 

You quickly nod “Yeah, hi, nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you! Finally, I thought Wooyoung and Gyuri had an imaginary friend,” you laugh, shrugging at the joke “Love your outfit, by the way, are those— Oh, San, hi— Are those jellyfish?” 

You want to answer. You truly do, the yes right at the tip of your tongue, but words leave you when you turn your head around and find San already looking at you with wide eyes.

He looks great, he's a bit more muscular than what the pictures show and than the last time that you saw him, his arms hugging the fabric of the dress shirt he's wearing like it was tailored for him and everything. 

How dare he. 

You wonder if his heart is beating as loud as yours is right now. If he's surprised, disappointed or happy to see you at all. 

“Her favorite animal.” He answers for you “Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi…” you whisper back and it feels like you're in a trance. He doesn't look away but the table quieting down once again snaps you out of it and you turn to the girl with a wide smile that you hope conceals whatever the fuck you're feeling at the moment “I love jellyfishes. Had a phase as a child when I would exclusively talk about them, too,” you chuckle, nervously, reaching for your earrings instinctively “Gyuri gave them to me as a present last Christmas.” 

You definitely overshared just now. From the corner of your eye you catch your best friend getting ready to step in if needed. 

Love looks at you, then at San (who's just standing next to you without uttering a word) and then back at you again, smiling like she just figured something out “Well, I love them.” 

“Thanks…” 

Coughing unnecessarily loud, Wooyoung gets up from his seat “You're late.” 

It takes a second but San tears his gaze away from you to look at his best friend and you take the opportunity to chug down the rest of your beer “Sorry, something came up.” 

Seonghwa turns at that and looks at him as well “You good?” 

“I am. Did you guys already eat? I'm starving.” 

“Nope. We're about to order. Let me get you a drink, come here.” And just like that, he disappears from your view and you almost sigh in relief. 

“Are you good?” Seonghwa asks you next and you reckon he's very observant. But then again, you're not the most gracious human being when you're in San’s presence, so, you figure everyone else noticed your change of mood as well. 

“Yeah, I just… I haven't seen him in a while and I didn't think he was coming. I was surprised, that's all.” 

“I can see that,” his eyes move around your face for some reason, frowning a little bit but then he seems to let it go, getting the menu closer to you “Okay, good, um… I actually made the reservation here because they have the best samgyeopsal in town.”  

“Do they?” 

“Mhm, so…” 

He helps you pick your food and when it's time to order, he moves back to his seat. Gyuri asks you with her eyes if you're okay, you nod and grab her hand under the table with a tiny smile and then everyone is moving around to make space for San and Woo once they return. 

He doesn't sit in front of you. 

Relief floods you and you can finally feel your muscles relax as he is so far away, at the other end of the table and in the same row of seats, so you don't really see him unless you really try. 

Which you don't, so your food goes down easy and the rest of the night as well.

Until everyone but you and Seonghwa move around their seats and he ends up right in your point of view as you do your best to ignore him and focus on his friend. 

Seonghwa asks you about your hobbies, you tell him that you love to write movie essays on websites no one even cares to read and he asks you to show it to him so he can look it up when he gets home.

“And you've always done this? Since highschool?” 

You nod and he beams “I read like the first three lines and it looks really good, Y/N. Is that why you love books so much? Because you're a writer?” 

“I wouldn't consider myself a writer but… Sure, I love to write.” 

“Did you know this?” he turns to San and your smile drops a little. 

“Know what?” 

“Your friend is an excellent writer.” 

“Oh, I know. She, uh… Used to write stories on her notebook instead of paying attention in math class,” he sips on his drink and at the detail you didn't know he knew, you turn to him fully “I used to read over her shoulder sometimes.” 

“She's really good.” Seonghwa is looking at your phone, still reading “Really smart, too.” 

San’s jaw tenses a little and you can't understand why “I know.” He says again. 

His friend is none the wiser, blocking your phone and returning it to you “I like it,” he says, smiling and you blush “The essay.” He clarifies after a second, prompting a laugh out of you that he joins. 

San doesn't laugh, but you don't pay attention to him because Seonghwa is asking you something else. 

When it's time to leave the restaurant, Wooyoung suggests going back to his apartment to milk the get-together as much as you all can.

You all throw your napkins at him in feign disgust at the choice of words but you all accept his proposal either way. 

So now you're sitting on the couch, legs crossed and head on Gyuri’s shoulder while you listen to all of them talk (more like argue) about something that happened at their university last week, their voices drowning the soft music playing out of the tiny speaker resting on the counter. 

San is on the floor, to your right. It's hard to keep your eyes off him when you feel him looking at you when you close your eyes and let the noise fade into the background. It's not like you're able to add something to the conversation anyway and Gyuri seems to be drinking her sorrows (not being able to hook Woo up with the girl she told you about) away. 

Your best friend is slurring her words already, drink in hand and index finger pointing at Jongho accusatively because, apparently, the fight they're talking about was his fault. 

“You don't—” she hiccups “You don't even know why it was your fault and it pisses me off even more, you know?” 

“Okay, let me take that.” Taking the drink from her hand and before she starts complaining you stand up to make your way into the kitchen. 

The sink is full and a mess, so you pour the liquid into it and leave the glass sitting right beside it. Distracted by the dilemma of helping Woo out with the dishes or not, you don't notice someone else also entering the space.

That's why you jump a little when you turn and catch Seonghwa leaning on the wall by the entrance. It startles you enough to laugh the nerves out afterwards and he shakes his head, smiling. 

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. They're boring me to death with the fight story.” 

You nod, realizing that maybe that's because he doesn't attend the university anymore. He told you he graduated last year “They're too drunk to let it go.” 

“Too drunk to dance to this amazing song, too. Who's playlist is that?” he frowns and you rest your back into the sink, rolling your eyes because he's pretending he doesn't know “Oh! Right, it's mine.” 

“And they just don't know how to appreciate it, huh?” he shrugs and you click your tongue “They're such bad friends, Seonghwa, I truly don't know why you keep them around.” 

“You appreciate it,” it's your turn to frown and he leaves his spot at the wall to walk towards you “You were singing along to it,” he explains and you let out an ah, nodding as he extends his palm to you, clearly inviting you to dance. 

“Oh, I don't… I don't really know how to—” 

“I'll show you.” 

His kind eyes are asking you to trust him. You really, really shouldn't. 

No matter how hard you try to bury the hopeless romantic little girl who decided to have a crush on a guy back in ninth grade, she's still there, begging you to let loose and live a little. 

When you grab Seonghwa’s hand, you think the smile he gives you was worth listening to her. 

You can't even tell the song that's softly playing anymore, a mellow r&b melody reaches your ear but you are not listening. You're focused on him, on the way he spins you around even if it doesn't fit the bit, on the way he laughs softly against your ear when he pulls you close by your hand and then pulls away just as quickly. 

Laughing as well, the spell of this beautiful stranger (because you remind yourself you don't really know him that well) is hard to break. 

Until it does. 

Someone clearing their throat behind you stops you and Seonghwa's feet from moving any further. When the tall, older guy turns you around, you're face to face with San and his scowl. 

“Sorry to interrupt but I need to get started on the dishes. Everyone else is heading out too,” he looks behind you, at the man who's still standing close to you and grabbing your hand “In case you want to ask Mingi for a ride.” 

“They finally stopped fighting!” he fakes excitement, finally letting go of your hand and walking in front of you, blocking San with his body. You chuckle, barely clapping your hands to join the pretense as he's pulling up his phone “Can I ask for your number, Y/N?” 

Blinking a few times, you're not sure if your heart speeds up because he's asking or because you hear San sigh exasperated behind him “S-sure.” 

When you put your information on his phone, he bids you goodbye with a pat on your head and hugs San on his way out the kitchen. 

Now that you two are alone, you suddenly want to run and join Seonghwa. You were doing so, so well. 

Avoiding San like the plague it's much easier when you're safe hiding behind your two best friends. 

Ignoring his stare would be much easier if you weren't stuck into place. 

“I—” 

“You—” 

You both speak over each other and you force out an uncomfortable laugh that he doesn't return. Instead, he motions you to go first while he occupies the space in front of the sink, turning the faucet on. In doing so, he has to grab your waist and move you out of the way which makes you short circuit for a second “I was going to help you with that.” You finally stammer out. 

He lets out what you take as an annoyed chuckle. 

“You seemed busy, I don't know how you would've done it.” 

Ouch. 

Why do you allow his words to cut so deep when you stopped caring about what he does a long time ago? 

The band aid rips, the stitches come undone and all it took him were five seconds to melt your resolve away like it was never there in the first place. 

“I'll… I go get Gyuri so we can leave Woo and you to get to it, then.” 

“Bathroom.” You hear him mutter under his breath as you are taking the final step to leave. 

“Huh?” 

“She's in the bathroom, probably puking her breakfast out,” he looks up at you to give you a tiny smile “You left her alone with Jongho and Woo for five minutes so she got ahold of another drink.” 

“God damnit.” 

Rushing out, you run into everyone else at the door and Mingi has to let go of his very intoxicated girlfriend when she reaches you to give you a hug “Don't be a stranger, Y/N! It was lovely to be around you, hm?” 

The sudden physical contact almost makes you gasp but you cover it up with a shy giggle “O-oh. Yeah, um, lovely to meet you too. All of you.” 

“Sorry about that,” her boyfriend grabs her arms and breaks the hug “She's right, though. Don't be a stranger.” 

You nod once, smiling a little more sincerely now and everyone says bye to you, including Seonghwa, who grabs your hand one last time and gives it a squeeze before closing the front door of the apartment. 

You think you feel your heart skip a tiny bit under all the shit San’s words pulled up to the surface a minute ago. But there's no time to dwell in that: you hear Gyuri opening up the bathroom door before gagging and closing it again with a slam. 

Jesus Christ. 

You two are really getting old. You stopped drinking like an hour ago, when you were starting to feel tipsy after your second beer, and you know she didn't drink as much as she used to maybe four years ago, but the visage that welcomes you when you open the door and find her crouched down in front of the toilet certainly brings back memories of those times. 

“I left you alone for like… five minutes.” Sighing, you lean in to hold her flimsy ponytail and pat her back. 

“I'm good,” she gags again and then holds up her hand to stop you from saying anything else “I'm fine.” 

Smiling, you help her up and she grabs the counter as she's washing away the taste of whatever she ate earlier today and alcohol “Me when I lie…”

“Y/N!” she hits your arm but the movement somehow almost makes her trip. 

“You want to lay down?” 

“Is she okay?” Woo’s head peaks into the bathroom and when he sees his ex, he makes a face. 

“Does she look like she's okay?” you help her out of the bathroom and start heading for Wooyoung's room. 

“Wow, wow— Where do you think you're taking her?” 

“To your room, dumbass!”

“Why mine? San's is literally right there.” He whines, pointing at the door you pass by without a second thought. You don't want to know where his room is or what it looks like at all. 

“Yeah, well, did San get her this drunk?” 

“How was I supposed to know that she was at her almost black-out phase? She never drinks that much in front of me!” he complains again but you're already tugging Gyuri in, who mumbles something incoherent and then flips Wooyoung off “Na Gyuri if you puke on my bed I swear to God!” 

If you didn't know Wooyoung so much, the whining and the attitude would probably make you think he didn't care for her at all. But he's brushing her hair out of her forehead, securing the blanket around her and moving to take her socks off when you reach the door. 

“I'm guessing you're okay with her staying the night?” 

“Of course you guys can stay the night, Y/N.” He says and he stumbles a little to get to you, so you smile and shake your head, about to let him know that you're not staying anywhere near his roommate when he continues “You can come over whenever you like. You know that, right?” 

“I know, Woo.” 

“I barely even see you these days, I… Oh! I forgot!” he points to the end of the hall, towards the kitchen “You guys don't really like each other so maybe don't come over when he's here because I don't want to see you sad!” 

“Lower your voice,” you whisper to him, bringing a hand to his face and patting his cheek a few times to wake him up “Did the alcohol suddenly hit you or something?” you sigh for the umpteenth time “Anyways, you should lay down and I'll get going. I'll come pick her up tomorrow and—” 

“That's such a great idea! Oh, I'm a genius.” 

“You didn't come up with it, Wooyoung.”

“San!” he calls all of the sudden and you wish he was sober enough to read the panic on your features. He seems much, much sober when his best friend starts walking down the hall and stops right beside you “Take Y/N home, please, she's going to give you a bag that you must protect with your life.” 

Said best friend looks at you, his eyebrow arched in a silent question “Gyuri’s stuff.” 

“Ah.”

“Go, go. It's getting late, I'll just… I'll cuddle with my ex until you get home.” 

And she has the nerve to say he doesn't want her back. 

When the door to Wooyoung's room closes and you're left with San on the poorly lit hallway, you make a mental note to never step foot on this place or allow your friends to drink ever again. 

You don't even look at the guy before practically running down the hallway and reaching for your bag. You make sure your phone is secured in your pocket as you slip your shoes on and soon you're grabbing the front door knob and twisting it. 

Keys jingle next to you but, again, you don't spare San a glance. 

“So—” 

“I'll get out of your hair, you don't have to… walk me home or whatever he said.” 

“Y/N, it's late.” 

Turning to him, your smile is as fake as the ones you've been giving him the past couple of years “And I'm a grown up, San, I can walk myself home.” 

“What about Gyuri’s stuff?” 

“She can wear Wooyoung's clothes, it's not like they never shared before. Anyway… Thank you for having me, it was nice to see you. Goodnight.” Your response comes out fast and it sounds as planned out as it actually is, kinda robotic and devoid of actual emotion. 

San can't see through you the way you see through him. It's okay, he won't mind it. 

He probably won't mind that you close his own door on his face either. 

If that door is what you hear when you're making your way down the stairs in order to make a fast escape, you choose to ignore it. 

You have to stop mid-way to compose yourself. You don't know why you feel like crying or why your heart is beating so fast. 

You knew going in that there was a possibility of seeing him tonight. You know how San affects you, so effortless and seemingly like no time has passed at all in between senior year and present day. 

You know all of this already, it's an endless loop that will keep repeating until you either move away or decide to stop agreeing to Wooyoung's plans all together. 

So why is your chest heaving with emotion? Why is nostalgia playing mind tricks with you? Why do you want to turn back and hug him and beg him to turn back time so you can do it all differently now that you know how to look like and what to say to make him love you back? 

Ah, you're definitely not sleeping tonight. So you start distracting yourself while walking down the stairs again. You remind yourself to tell a much sober Wooyoung how proud you are of him. You think about Seonghwa, about his kind eyes and the way he grabbed your hand to dance with him just half an hour ago. You wonder how long it will take you to get home if you jog all the way there. You—

Why the fuck is San outside when you get there? 

In a comedic way, you can see your attempt to distract your mind off of him slipping through your fingers and evaporating in the warm summer night breeze. 

In a realistic way, you're fucking pissed at him for taking the opportunity of a good night sleep away from you. 

You pass him and start jogging like you planned a minute ago. Footsteps follow you until his arm brushes yours and you take a step to the side to stop it from happening again. 

“Go home, Choi San.” 

“Stop fighting it, Y/N. I'm walking you home.” 

“It's a twenty minute walk—” 

“Drop it.” 

You do. And for the first ten minutes, no one utters a word even if the tension feels electric and the street is so quiet so you can hear when his breath accelerates when he jogs to catch up to you whenever you try to leave him behind. 

Isn't that ironic. He was the one who left you behind all those years ago. 

“I didn't know that you danced.” 

He breaks the uncomfortable but safe silence to say that? 

“Well, you saw me dance so I clearly dance when I want to.” 

“You never danced with me.” 

“You never asked me to.” 

He laughs “I'm pretty sure I did on several occasions, Y/N.” 

“Well, you're wrong,” you're getting annoyed. How dare he think he remembers better than you? “It doesn't matter anyway, what's past is past and—” 

“You also gave Hwa your number,” he interrupts, his long legs taking two strides to get in front of you, still walking, facing your direction with his hands on his pockets. 

It's dangerous and stupid, even if the streets are practically empty and the sidewalk barely has any bumps. 

You hope he falls on his pretty face.

“I did.* 

“I don't have your number.” 

“Well, I changed it and you never asked for it, so…” 

“You could've called me or texted me to let me know you did it.” 

He's getting on your nerves.

“San,” you start, taking in a deep breath you hope calms you down “We don't even text anymore, why would you want my number?” 

“Do you like him?” 

“Seonghwa?” you ask, frowning and he nods “Like… As a person?” 

“As a potential love interest.” He clarifies matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes. 

“I met him today, San. Why do you want my number?” 

“Because we're friends?” he offers after a second, shifting so he's walking by your side again. 

“Are we?” you ask, laughing bitterly at that “Because we haven't spoken a word to each other in years.” 

“That's not true.” 

“It is, San.” 

“You… You don't speak to me anymore, so…” 

“Well your girlfriend at the time told me she didn't feel comfortable with me speaking to you anymore,” you sigh “so I didn't and you didn't try to talk to me either.” 

“Well, I want to talk to you now.” 

“And is your new girlfriend aware of that? Is she comfortable with that? Because I don't want anyone telling me what to do anymore and—” 

“Why wouldn't she be comfortable? We're friends, Y/N.” 

“Are we?” you insist, petty, bitter and overall very, very hurt. 

He looks offended at that “I assumed we were?” 

He's getting on your fucking nerves. 

“We stopped being friends the second Minseo asked me to stay away from you because she didn't like me, San.” 

“She’s not in my life anymore—” 

The words are coming out of your mouth without even thinking it through. His demeanor, the way he's somehow reproaching you for whatever he saw between you and his friend, the way he pretends nothing happened between you and him, thinking that you two are still friends. 

“We stopped being friends when you pulled away from me, saw me do the same and did nothing to stop it from happening, San.” 

He stops in his tracks at that. You don't, pushing forward and quickening your step even if your calves burn. 

“Either way,” you speak up “Make sure you tell your girlfriend about wanting my number and then you can ask Seonghwa for it if you want—” 

“She's not my girlfriend anymore!” 

Now that stops you, just a few buildings down from yours, you turn around just to find San closer that you thought he'll be.

“O-oh. I… I didn't know that. I'm sorry.” 

“You didn't do anything to be sorry for.” 

“Still, it must suck so I'm sorry you're going through that.” 

“We didn't want the same things and so we ended it. It is what it is.” 

You nod. 

He walks the few steps separating you and you have to raise your chin a little to look him in the eye for the first time since you left his apartment “I wanted to tell you.” 

“That you broke up with your girlfriend?” 

“Yeah, I don't know why. It happened when I broke up with Minseo too, I just… You're the first person that I thought of calling when it happened. I texted you, too, but the messages didn't go through.” 

You hum at that. 

Why would he even say that? 

You resume your step, not really knowing what to say until you reach the stairs that lead to your building’s entrance. 

“And you didn't ask Woo for my number?” 

He follows you up. 

“I don't think he would've given it to me if I asked.” 

That sounds like an excuse, so you don't let it slide as you enter the code to your building and let yourself inside, San holding the door so he can get in as well “Why would he do that?” 

“Because he…” San sighs, pressing the elevator button “Nevermind. He just wouldn't.”

Frowning, you turn to him “No, now you have to tell me.” 

“It doesn't matter, really—” 

“Tell me, San.” 

He stares for a second and then looks away, like a child, vulnerable and you can't help but soften at that “He didn't like the way I treated you.” 

Eating your words from before, you shake your head “You didn't treat me like anything.” 

The elevator dings and you get inside. 

San follows you. 

“Exactly,” he says, resting his shoulder on the metal “Like you said I just did nothing and—” 

“Well, sometimes that's just what happens,” you want to end this. You want to pack Gyuri’s bag, give it to him and never see him again. 

This conversation hurts, it reopens barely closed wounds and it creates new ones you don't really need when it comes to whatever happened between you two. 

There's only so much a person can handle and it really doesn't help that you're a fool for San. He takes advantage of it, of the fact you can't really push him away at this point and the fact that he wants to have this conversation now instead of four and half years ago? 

Mean. 

He's mean. He's evil. He's… He's staring at you with a spark in his eyes that you recognize too well. 

Hope. 

When you get to your floor, you try to wipe the image away while busying yourself with your keys. Your hands tremble a little but you're able to open the door of your apartment and get in without inviting him. 

He gets in anyway. You take off your shoes as he closes the front door. 

He stays silent as he follows you around the apartment and you don't worry about turning the lights on. You get into Gyuri’s room and start picking out a comfy hangover outfit for your friend. Some clean underwear, sweatpants, two shirts and socks. 

When you drop to the floor, in front of the closet, to look for a bag to stash all of it in, San silently clutches beside you. 

“It shouldn't have happened to us. Never us.” 

You can't take it anymore. 

“San, what is this? What are you doing? I mean, why are we—” 

“I know.” 

“It's been years…”  

“I miss you.” 

He's so mean. But the softness in his tone resembles the one he used all the way back in highschool, when he told you that not being friends with you didn't feel right and you want to cave in right there and then. 

Your heart screams at you to do it, your reason warns you that you both have been through this before and it never ends right. 

You simply can't stay friends with Choi San. 

Your love for him must run too deep, your resentment claws at it and tries to hurt it but it's an immovable force that won't budge even if you try to bury it under the years that have passed, the things he has done. 

Tears gather in your eyes and you try to blink them away as you stare at your best friend's clothes on your lap and try to come up with something to close this path up again, reconstruct the picket fence you built around it the second he broke your heart for the first time. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back, letting the walls fall a little “I miss you too but I don't think I miss whatever version of you you are right now, San.” 

“W-what?”

His shaky voice makes the walls crumble and crash. 

Turning to him, your hand shakes as you place it on top of his “And you don't miss the version of me I am right now. You miss what I was back then, the comfort and the shoulder to cry on I offered you when Arin and you broke up. You miss my availability and the way I didn't press my feelings on you because it didn't matter if I liked you or not, you were my friend first and the guy that I had a crush second but—” you choke up, tears falling down your cheeks even if you don't want them to “I can't do it anymore. I'm not that girl anymore and I won't be there for you now that you and Kyungmi broke up because I can't handle it. I can't, I'm sorry.” 

He doesn't deny any of it.

He stares at you, tears wetting his cheeks as well and it hurts even more this way. You wish you had the strength to hold it together, to treat him like you did on the street a few minutes ago, but you can't. 

There's no way you could ever hate him like you want to. 

“You know…” he starts in a whisper, letting out a humorless chuckle “That's what I used to tell myself too.” 

“Hm?” 

“That you were my friend first and the girl that I had a crush on second.” 

How dare he mutter the words you always wanted to hear, the ones you picture being said in a different setting, the ones that haunted your every waking thought that period of time you doubted your friends, your mom, yourself for even believing Choi San could ever have a crush on you. 

He doesn't get to say them. You want to tell him but the words die on your throat and form a lump that you can't swallow down. 

You don't get to say that. You don't get to say that. 

Your hand drops from his and you look away again only to grab the first bag you find on the closet floor and shove Gyuri’s stuff in it. 

If the lack of response it's what prompts the hurt in his voice the next time he speaks, you don't want to think about it. 

“I wish I didn't. Now it's too late to do something about it, huh?” 

This time the rage comes back with a mask on. Feing settlement for all the what if’s covers you like a blanket on a really hot summer night: unwanted, unnecessary. 

But you can't sleep without it, so you do nothing to push it away. 

“I guess it is.” 

You get up from the floor, leaving the room and wiping your face with bitterness coating your movements as you wait by the door for him to get out. 

When he does and he steps in front of you, you extend the bag and he takes it without missing a beat. 

Voice robotic and words premeditated, you open the front door for him “Thanks for walking me home and taking this back.” 

He leans a little into your space and you don't move away. But just as he did in highschool, he takes in your hitched breath and does nothing more.

“Thanks for letting me talk to you.” 

He didn't give you much of a choice there but it's okay. This is closure, this is the end of your story with Choi San and you convince yourself you're glad that it is. 

“Sure,” you whisper back and he steps outside, turning around to watch you slowly close the door “goodnight, San.” 

He doesn't say it back. 

When the darkness of your apartment engulfs you, that's when you let yourself breakdown. Covering your mouth with your palm, you descend until your knees are against the wood on the floor and closing your eyes you make it a point to let it all out. 

You'll let it all out, drink some water, text Wooyoung and Gyuri to let them know you're safe and go to bed. 

And tomorrow you'll begin your day with the freedom of finally knowing what would've happened if you or San ever took the next step. 

This is fine. This is moving on. This is— 

The doorbell rings. 

Opening the door again, you crease your eyebrows in a silent question that San doesn't care to answer, so you look around the floor in case he forgot something you're missing. You wipe your cheeks and under your eyes as you turn to him again “Did you—” 

Time slows down when he makes it past the threshold and you can't move an inch, gaping at who you once thought was the love of your life “What are you doing, San?” 

“Something about it.” 

“What?” 

“Forgive me,” he asks, breathless and in a murmur, fueling your confusion. And then he's closing the distance, dropping Gyuri’s bag and cupping your face so gently that it hurts “but I'm doing something about it.” 

You stopped dreaming about the possibility of San kissing you that one time you two were on your bed and, another time, you told yourself that, if it ever happened, you wouldn't kiss him back. 

It's too late to kiss him back. 

But sparks fly when he crushes you against the wall and takes in a breath before slothing his mouth against yours like he's been waiting to do this every single day for the past nine years you've known each other. 

There's nothing you can do to conceal the way yearning takes over you, pours out of you, making you breathe into his open mouth and kiss him back like you always wanted to. 

You already know it is a mistake by the time you grab his shirt to keep him in place but does it really matter when this is all you ever wanted? 

Feeling warmth leave your face, you notice the way he desperately crowds your space as his chest bumps into yours, leg claiming its place in between yours, the palm that leaves you pressing against the wall, next to your head. 

The kiss is filled with emotion, with longing and desire and it steals the air out of your lungs tragically and beautifully at the same time. Before, you used to dream about his lips making everything feel right, making you fit in in a world you didn't feel like you belonged to. 

But this kiss drops you into uncharted territory, drags you into the depths of something that should be buried by now, after all this time. It brings the flame back to life and it's dangerous. 

The fact that it feels this way, both marvelous and catastrophic at the same time, makes you so sad. 

Sorrow descends down your face until your mouth is picking it up and your tongue is mixing it with whatever emotion is cruising through San right now. 

You have to know. 

He spent your entire youth and early adulthood keeping it to himself, knowing when to show his true colors and when to hide them, choosing who to do it with and you realize the San that lives in your head is nothing but a figment of what you wanted him to be. 

Because him holding to your waist like it's his only lifeline doesn't fit the San you remember, him telling you he liked you back then doesn't fit the guy who was just your best friend. 

You need to know. 

“San,” brokenly, you speak into his mouth and he pulls away just enough to see your face. Your eyes remain closed, your chest heaving and your lips trembling “Why are you doing this?” 

“Because I want you, Y/N.” 

You push him away, weakly, almost like you don't really mean it because deep down you don't but he steps away like you're asking to. 

Because, of course, your mind scraps the bottom of your resentment to give his words a completely new meaning. 

“You can find another girl to fuck and be your rebound, San,” more tears spill down and you wipe them away in anger but more threat to fall down so you cover your face with your hands and groan, desperate “I can't do this, especially not when I know that you know how bad I wanted you. Y-you know what you do to me San so stop—”

“I want you in my life. I don't— What? I don't want you like a rebound, I… Can we sit down and turn on a light so I can look at you when I say this?” 

His words should be reassuring but they're not, the way you tend to feel unlovable around him coming up to the surface, preventing you from thinking clearly. 

You can also feel his lips on yours still. It's dizzying but you manage to push yourself off the wall and pad around until you hit the switch of the warm light lamp near the couch and the apartment comes to life just like that. 

He takes in the space he's never seen before, walking slowly towards the living room and looking over the bookshelf that screams your name all over it. He smiles a bit as he looks over the book titles and you look away before your heart starts acting up again. 

You can't stay mad at him for long if he's looking through something so personal to you and smiling that fondly at it. It feels even more intimate than the kiss you two just shared. 

Wiping your cheeks once more, you are sure you look a mess but he doesn't seem to mind it once he comes into your point of view, sitting down on the couch, in front of your standing form. He grabs you by your hands until you're sitting next to him, close to him, cologne intoxicating your senses. 

“I told you I liked you when we were in highschool, right?” 

You nod. 

“You seemed surprised but it was dark so I'm not really sure. I thought you knew, everyone knew.” 

Oh, he's a comedian. 

“How would I have known, San? I… Yeri told me you liked me one time, in senior year, but I denied it. Then, my mom told me you seemed to want me in a non-platonic way and I dismissed her as well,” you take in a deep, shaky breath “For me, the thought of you liking me just didn't make sense. You loved Arin and she's… She doesn't look or act like I did back then at all, so how would I have known?” 

You didn't need clues and puzzles and what if’s, you needed words and actions that weren't confusing. You needed him to tell you back then, because telling you right now and kissing you senseless after he broke up with a girl he supposedly was very in love with means nothing but pain. 

“I didn't realize you liked me too,” you make a face, about to tell him off, but he interrupts “I didn't! I thought you liked Yeri and I thought you saw me as the annoying guy who wouldn't leave you alone. I only just realized it a couple years ago, because Woo told me.” 

You raise your eyebrows and mutter under your breath “I'm murdering him tomorrow.” 

The corner of his lips twitch before he shakes his head in dismissal of what you said “I liked you. I really, really liked you and never told a soul because… Well, it's scary when you fall in love, right?” 

“San, you had no problem telling Arin, Minseo or Kyungmi that you liked them.” 

He looks down to the floor, lost in thought and you want to open your mouth to take what you just said into a new direction, but you don't “Maybe that's because I didn't love them the way I love you.” 

Oh. 

Love you? As in… He loves you right now too? 

No way. 

“You didn't love me, San. You don't love me right now either, you… Maybe we both were in love with the idea of love? Maybe that's what happened and—” 

“Quit telling me what I'm feeling, Y/N. You always do that, you always assume you know what I'm feeling but you don't!” 

Raising your voice a little more, you try to get your point across in the worst way possible: by being stubborn “You don't know me! How can you possibly—” 

“I knew you back then, Y/N! And I loved you back then, too!” He looks like wants to say something more but he doesn't, instead, he takes a calming breath and then leans into your space for the third time tonight “And I might not know you now but I want to. That's what I meant when I said that I want you. I want you in my life, I want to know the person you became when we stopped talking, I want to talk to you every single day and I want to hold you and kiss you and be by your side however you want me to, I just… I can't lose you again.” 

His confession renders you speechless and you notice his chest is heaving, going up and down in sync with yours. 

But the way he pulled away from you senior year still hurts, it paints a picture of what's going to happen if you accept this. 

You can't believe his words. 

He must feel lonely and confused, like he did when Arin broke up with him. He must be looking for a shelter you can't provide. 

“And when you find another girl that's more to your liking? What then, San?” 

“There's no one that I love more than you, Y/N and I'm sorry I was shit at proving it back then and I'm sorry that it took so many years for me to come to my senses.” 

He's tearing up and your heart pangs absurdly loud at that. 

“I saw you with Seonghwa earlier today, laughing and dancing and flirting and I thought: Oh, maybe if I didn't waste that much time pretending I'm someone I'm not, that would be me.” 

You stare for a second, you watch a single tear drop down his cheek and then look away. 

“Is that what you were doing? Is that why you pulled away?” 

“Maybe?” he offers and you turn to him again. Is not enough and maybe he can see it in your expression, because he goes on “I mean, I… I thought I wanted Arin. I thought I wanted Minseo. I had people in my life who were really happy to see me with them and I just…” 

“Wanted to keep them happy,” you nod, understanding. He doesn't have to say his mothers name for you to know he's referring to her and maybe his other highschool friends outside of Wooyoung “Were you pretending with me as well?” 

“No,” he answers right away “You and Woo were the only ones who saw me for who I really was back then.” 

“And why do you think you love me now, San?” you ask, deflating against the couch and ignoring the way your heart soars at his quick response.

“Because I never stopped,” he stammers out and then clears his throat “Because I looked for you in Minseo and Kyungmi and I wondered for years why they couldn't make me feel the same way. And I told myself I didn't need to feel the same way and that I deserved to wonder for the rest of my days but seeing you tonight? I can't.” 

Straightening your spine, the pained look you sent in his direction is not intentional but it prompts him to lean closer and closer until he's cupping your cheek again. 

“I can't keep wondering.” His voice is a sweet whisper, a siren song that draws you in until your forehead is resting against his. 

All these years, you were so self-focused on changing to a better version of who he used to know, learning from your mistakes and closing off to the opportunity of letting him prove himself a better man, you forgot that time passed for him too. He’s telling you he changed, too. 

Imagination is a safe space. Is where you hide, where desire can take its wings and fly high without hurting you too much. Make belief has rescued you before but this? The way his nose nuzzles softly into yours and your breaths tangle? This is very real. And reality is prone to hurt you. 

But the want you feel is undeniable. The way your entire being wants to cave in and give him an opportunity is suffocating, it makes you choke out a sob that he follows with one of his own. 

You kiss him, softly at the beginning, but his hands on you tighten and you let yourself get lost in the way they go down your neck and your arms, caressing you softly until they reach your waist and pull you into his lap. 

Pulling away, you grab his chin with two fingers and force his teary eyes to snap open, searching for an answer on yours.

“If you hurt me,” you start, breathless “If you're mocking me, if you're using me to get over Kyungmi, if you are pulling me back in to break my heart again, Choi San, I swear to God I will kill you.” 

“I won't do that to you ever again, Y/N,” he returns softly “I love you, I'm sorry if I ever hurt you but I love you.” 

Others would argue that it is pathetic how quickly you forgive him. But then again, you could never be mad at San. 

You were only mad at yourself for how everything turned out. 

“I love you too, Sannie.” 

Saying something never felt so freeing before. 

“Oh, Y/N…” you can see the way relief washes his worries away “Y/N…” he starts to say but then leans in to kiss you again and never finishes his words. 

You don't mind it. 

Pouring out all the pent up affection you pretended to bury for years, you explore his mouth and carve into your memory the way he feels. The way he sighs into it when your tongue brushes his, the way he pulls you in closer when your fingers reach the nape of his neck and pull on his hair there, hands splayed on your back so he can keep you in place as he leans down and places you against the worn out couch. 

He maps you out, hands going down your waist in a familiar feeling that brings back that memory of you two laying down on your bed. Only this time, he's actually touching you with a purpose. This time, you two have made up your minds and your limbs are tangled in a way you can feel all of him pressing up against you. 

It starts to get stuffy, the space on the couch not nearly enough to have him the way you want to. Soon, you're both standing up, mouths still moving against each other and hands roaming everywhere until you're undoing the buttons on his shirt. 

He pulls away to fully take it off, eyes never leaving yours, dropping the shirt to the ground, next to the couch and then he's on you again, making your back crash into the wall as he works the knots keeping your blouse together. 

He walks you through the hall, stopping only to take your top off and then he's walking you to a room that has a familiar scent that doesn't belong to you.

“Wrong room, wrong room,” you say into his lips and he laughs, looking to your surroundings “Mine’s over there.” you point to the other end of the hall, taking his hand and pulling him towards it. 

You don't make it far before he's yanking you towards him again. He looks down, taking your body in and you do the same, his firm and defined stomach a sight you never thought you would be able to see. 

“You're so beautiful,” he whispers, backing you against the wall again and kissing your cheek “So, so beautiful.” 

Turning your head to chase his mouth, he lets out a heavy sigh when his lips trail a path to your neck and murmurs against the skin there “I never told you how beautiful I found you before but you're so perfect, baby.” 

“I always thought I wasn't your type, San,” you let out a noise when he grabs your hips and pulls you forward, crashing his into yours “Fuck.” 

“And I always thought you were too much for me, too smart,” he kisses his way back up, focusing on your jaw and chin until he's kissing your cheek again “too pretty,” he moves to your ear, pecking right under it and you hold him closer “too good for me.” 

It doesn't really matter that this is all new to you, the way he's speaking, the tenor of his voice, the things he's saying… It sparks something familiar in you. You're pulling his hair back to make him look at you, a moan slipping out of his lips at that. 

You want to hear it again. 

He's smiling at your reaction, hand tightening on his locks.

However, that smile drops when he seems to recognize the gleam in your eyes. 

You gather up courage, feeling empowered by the way his hooded eyes darken but wait patiently for you to speak your mind. 

“Maybe I'm too good for you now, too,” you lean in, your lips softly tracing his “Maybe you should prove to me that you deserve me, San.” 

It's a dare. One that he seems to like a lot because his eyes sparkle with the same fire they used to back in the day. 

“Oh, I'll prove it to you, alright.” He whispers, panting when you let go of his hair and he leans into you to kiss your lips briefly before pulling away again.

His hand tilts your head back and you rest it against the cold wall, his fingers touch your bottom lip before going down and down and down until they rest against the seam of your pants, unbuttoning them in one swift movement. 

Going back up, his nails softly dig into your skin and you preen, taking the soft sting of his ministrations like you two have done this a million times before.  

His mouth is on yours again, his hands are pulling you off the wall and into your room until you two land on your mattress with a soft tud, a moan spilling out of your lips when he sloths his knee in between your legs and pulls them apart with expertise. 

You don't have the mind to break down what that means. 

Opening your eyes when he kisses down your neck again, you notice your room is barely lit by the street lights outside, curtains pulled open and windows closed but, this way, you can see the way San kisses between your breasts and your belly, catching his eyes when he looks up to measure your reaction. 

You sigh, already feeling some sort of build up going on down there and he hasn't even touched you properly yet. 

You don't even want to think about how wet you actually are. 

He leans back, open palms going down your legs slowly until they reach your feet. It tickles and you can't help but let out a giggle that he joins short after, his gaze never losing the edge because of it, though. 

“San…” 

He guides your hips up so he can take off your pants and you sigh when his hands return, raising your leg up “I missed your laugh,” he says low, attaching his lips to your calf “I miss being the one making you laugh too.” 

You feel like crying again but then he's letting your leg down and grabbing the other one to give it the same treatment, so your tears can wait. 

This time, he moves upwards till his mouth nears your clothed center and your breath hitches. 

Yeah, you can definitely cry later.

“You want me to prove to you how much I want you, Y/N?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting your mound now “How much I love you?” 

“San, p-please…” 

“Fuck, look at you.” He sounds like he's too lost in the heat of the moment and you're kind of grateful, because the moan you let out when his fingers hook on your underwear and pull them to the side to expose your pussy to his hungry eyes is loud. 

When he kisses you right where you need him, you let out another moan. And when he parts your folds to lick a stripe up to your clit, you curse him under you breath until he's laughing against you softly, the vibrations accumulating heat on your belly. 

He doesn't tease you much longer and you look down at him just to catch the moment his self control slips, eating you out like a man starved while his hand stays on your hip to hold you down and keep you underwear from interrupting his feast. 

“This is like,” he dives in again for a few seconds and you grab the sheets beneath you “All my fantasies coming to life but better.” 

He's so chatty during this and the only thing you can do is stammer a yeah? and pray for it to reach his ears.

“Mhm,” the circles your clit with the tip of his tongue and your legs shake “Taste even better than what I dreamed, too.” 

The heat of his mouth leaves you, lips spreading your wetness through your stomach until he fully reaches your face, your eyes closed and lips already waiting for him. 

Tongue caressing yours, your hands trail down his torso and focus on getting his pants off. You're shaking with excitement so it proves to be more difficult than you imagined at first but he helps you in unbuckling his belt. 

Once the piece of clothing is one the floor (or the bed, you're not really paying attention on where it lands), you don't waste time in feeling him up through his boxers. 

The hiss you get in return makes you smile. 

Bringing your lips to his neck, you suckle on this pulse point and gain another pleased noise before grazing your teeth against skin and moving to his collarbone next.

In a way, you get what he means. If he truly was pining over you the way you were pining over him, the thought of exploring his tan skin and making him moan feels like a dream. 

So you kiss him again in order to make it all last longer. 

The minutes pass between the both of you, softly making out and figuring out what gets both of you going, discarding your underwear in the process. 

You realize your moans make San’s cock twitch against your leg and he seems to notice the way your hips buck up everytime his hands handle you more roughly. 

After a few minutes of just this, you feel his hand making its way down again and the pads of his fingers circle your clit until you're grasping the sheets again. He gathers your arousal and then enters one finger slowly and when it slides in and out with ease, he enters the next one. 

There's really not much prepping he needs to do, already soft and compliant under him, you relax into his comfortable touch before you're aching for something else. And your mouth is preoccupied with his, so you do something else to catch his attention. 

Hands caressing his back, you let them drop to his ass with a soft smack that wins you a soft huff on amusement and then a whine when you move his hips towards yours. 

“Condom?” 

You shake your head “I'm clean and I have an implant.” 

“Oh?” he smirks, about to tease you but you squeeze his butt again and he moans “Fuck. I'm clean too.” 

“Good,” you whisper against his cheek, laughing as he arranges his position. 

And he might've been touching you all this time, kissing you until your mind emptied and your lips are all swollen up, but the look on his eyes when he slowly enters you is what might drive you over the edge. 

Grabbing your hands, he pins them on the side of your head as he moves, dropping his head down with a groan as you take him in, nose touching yours and moth whispering sweet things you can't quite pick up. 

He feels so good. 

This all feels way too good to be real. 

In the cloud you're at, you allow yourself to dream a little more before the reality of what your confessions mean dawns on you. 

For now, you allow San to make love to you. Sweetly, slowly and with a passion you never were lucky enough to encounter before. 

Maybe it's because your previous lovers didn't have your heart the way San does. 

He rams his hips into yours hard, closing his eyes and resting his warm cheek against yours, kissing your face inch by inch when you accompany his movements with your own. 

When his pace picks up, you hug him close and secure your legs around his hips as you moan. 

“Y-yes, fuck.” 

“Like that?” he repeats the movement from before, pulling out and then in with such force it rocks the entire bed. 

“Just like that, baby, fuck.” 

“God, you sound so good,” you smile a little, forehead resting on his shoulder before your head falls down against your pillow again “I love you,” he repeats against your lips, letting your hands go to cup your face with both of his again “I love you so much.” 

Teetering over the edge, you feel happy tears stinging in your eyes. Though closed, you can feel San’s stare on you, on your face, on the way you react to his sweet words and relentless pace. 

You say it back in a whisper and he repeats it again and again and again until you're both coming and tears are spilling down your cheeks. 

He kisses them away. 

You wipe his with trembling fingers as you come down, having trouble breathing from everything that just happened. 

You don't feel suffocated anymore, you feel like you've been freed. Like this was supposed to happen at some point and you two finally got around to it. 

“I love you,” he says once more before slipping out of you with a parting kiss. 

Holy shit. 

When San gets up from the bed and you point him to the bathroom, down the hallway, you're left with a sticky mess in between your legs and a lot to think about but you settle on four things. 

San just made love to you. There's no way that was just sex. 

There's also no way you're coming back from this. 

Gyuri is probably going to kill you. 

And that, obviously, your feelings for San never left. You feel the familiar warmth of them spreading through your post-orgasmic state. They're there, mocking you, asking you who the fuck you thought you were for pushing them away. 

He returns, toilet paper in his hands before leaning in and cleaning you up, lips immediately finding home on your skin as he does. 

You both giggle at that.

You probably need to shower but you've been crying and there's no way you're leaving this bed tonight. He throws the paper away on your bedroom’s trashcan and then crashes into the bed next to you, still naked, still looking at you with so much love you're wondering what stopped you from seeing it was there before. 

Taking his hand, you bring it to his lip and give his knuckles a peck “That was really good.” 

“It was.” 

“I can't believe we actually just did that…” 

He smiles and what he says next shocks you even more than his confession “I want to take you out.” 

“San… You just came inside me not even ten minutes ago.” 

“And?” you laugh and he shakes his head, leaning into your space again “I spent many years doing everything wrong, let me do it the right way.” 

“Making love to me one time and then taking me out on a date is not the right way, sir.” 

He nuzzles your cheek with his nose and you let out a pleased sigh “Who said it was just one time, huh?” Attacking your neck with his lips again, you push him away with a laugh. 

“Oh, come on!” 

He laughs as well “Give me ten minutes and I'll make it two!” 

San makes love to you two more times. And by four in the morning, you're snuggled into his arms and sleeping soundly. 

When you wake up and find the space next to you empty, you think it was all a dream. Your naked form begs to differ and you quickly put the t-shirt you usually wear to bed on and your panties underneath it to go out and face the feelings of your actions fighting with the blender in the kitchen. 

“How do you two live with this stupid thing?” 

“We don't,” you answer, startling him “We don't use it. What are you trying to make?” 

San’s shirtless, wearing his pants and his hair messy. Looking back at the living room clock, you see it's just five past ten. 

Smiling as he approaches you, you forget you must look a mess too when he pecks your lips and barely pulls away “Good morning, beautiful.” 

You pretend to cringe at that, pulling away “Oh, God. Morning, dumbass.” 

“You like it, you're blushing,” he points out and the pink on your cheek deepens as he's going back to the blender “Does anything work here?” 

“The microwave,” you shrug “And the stove. Were you trying to make yourself a…” you look over the ingredients he has pulled out of your fridge “Green juice?” 

“I was trying to make both of us a green juice,” he corrects and your heart skips at the immediate domestic attitude he has with you “But now I can tell neither of you drink anything like it, hm? I'm buying you a blender.” 

“Please don't.” 

“Why?” 

“Why do you think that one is broken?” 

He hums, huffing out a laugh seconds later and you walk over to him, unsure on how to approach him even though what you did yesterday night and earlier this morning didn't allow your shyness to step in. 

Now you're feeling it. 

He can tell, because he stops fighting with the steel appliances to grab your waist and pull you close “I wanted to make you breakfast.” 

“We can make breakfast together and I can order your green juice,” you compromise and he nods, but he doesn't let you go “And later we can go out on that date you promised me yesterday and we can go over what we're going to tell the two idiots.” 

His smile drops. 

“Oh, fuck.” 

Grimacing, you nod “It was the second thing I thought about after waking up.” 

“What was the first?” 

“Oh, I was trying to remember if you ever asked me to dance before,” he nods with a smile “Guess what? You didn't.” 

He fake gasps at that “I did!” 

“No, you didn't!” 

“Babe, yes I did,” he insists and you laugh, which prompts him to wrap his hands around you tighter when you try to get away from him “It was when—” 

“Oh. My. God. I'm going to be sick again.” 

Now when the fuck did Gyuri come back. 

And why is Wooyoung with her too, jaw slack as he watches both of you pull away from each other and create a safe distance that doesn't help whatever your best friends just saw. 

“It worked?” he asks and you can barely hear him until he hollers like a crazy person “Oh, it worked! I am a genius!” 

“Wooyoung, hold me! I'm going to kill them!” Gyuri looks like she's about to launch towards you at any second now, so you close your eyes and accept your fate. But nothing happens “Wait— What worked?” 

When you open them again, San is hiding behind you and Gyuri’s back is to both of you as she looks at Wooyoung with, what you assume, murderous intentions. 

“Gyuri, let's talk about this,” the black haired guy puts his hands up “You were too drunk to discuss it so I made the choice of— Gyuri, no!” 

You burst into laughter when she starts chasing him around the apartment and San giggles as well, only more nervous than delighted by their little cat and mouse game. 

He's probably sensing he's next on her hit list. 

As if you would let anything happen to him in the first place. 

“Stop, stop! I'm sorry, please leave me alone!” you hear Wooyoung’s voice echoing through your hall and in a second he's entering the kitchen, rounding you and San “I'm so happy for you guys, really, this was meant to happ— Stop!” He cries when Gyur catches onto him and yanks his hair to stop him from running.  

“Y/N,” she starts, chest heaving and you take a step back, crashing into San’s chest. He holds onto you only to push you a little and protect himself from the fury of your best friend “When I told you fuck him I didn't meant this!” 

“I know.” 

Wooyoung whines but he can't get away from her grasp so he just accepts it and pouts like a child. 

“A-and you!” She points towards the guy resting his chin on your shoulder “How dare you! If this is something casual for you then—” 

“I love her.” He defends himself quickly and your heart all but stops at that. 

“You do?” Wooyoung coos, amazed at his best friend’s confession. 

Gyuri's anger falters at that. 

“You… You do?” 

“And I love him,” you let out in a shy whisper, smiling a bit “But you already knew that.” 

“Of course I already knew that, bitch, I am your other half,” she makes a point to stare at San as she says it, letting Wooyoung go and he massages the part of his scalp that was targeted by his ex “Don't forget that.” 

“Y-yes ma'am.” 

You laugh again and Woo joins the embrace, eyeing you both expectantly and rolling his eyes when neither of you say anything to him “Well, you are so welcome guys. What are we having for breakfast?” 

You and San don't get to go out on that date. 

But when you do, he asks you to be his girlfriend the next day. 

And when you say yes he almost breaks down in excited tears.

Eventually, even Gyuri comes around and threatens him into treating you right, which means he earned her seal of approval. 

You delete the document on your laptop when you find it a month into being his girlfriend and, instead, start drafting your new beginning on it, in first person this time because the story doesn't feel like it belongs to someone else now.

The first line read as it follows: 

How did I ever think San and I could be just friends? 

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

© jensthwa, 2024.

[nyrasvoid]

A Knight’s Prize pt.3

Gwayne Hightower x Fem!Reader

Summary: the princess Velaryon marries Gwayne Hightower and their wedding night is filled with passion and lust.

Warnings: smut, it’s all really fluffy but there is some teasing, also a little bit of teasing in public, morning sex, riding, and idk if there’s anything else 🤸🏽‍♂️

A/N: just two horny mfs on their wedding day 🎀🧸 btw I had so much trouble looking up how weddings were in westeros under the faith of the seven cs some ppl said they exchanged rings and others that they didn’t, so I just went with the cloak exchange cs it’s what we see in GOT

- Word count: ≈1.9k words

Part 1 Part 2

The tension in the Red Keep was noticeable.

The moment you stepped into your mother's chambers, you could feel the weight of their gazes on you.

"Mother, Uncle," you greeted them, knowing that this conversation was inevitable.

Rhaenyra stepped forward, her expression softening as she reached out to touch your arm. "My daughter," she began, her voice filled with worry, "we need to talk about Ser Gwayne."

"I know what you're going to say," you replied quietly, "but my mind is made up."

Daemon scoffed from his place by the window, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Made up? You've barely known him a fortnight, and you're ready to throw yourself to the Hightowers?"

Rhaenyra shot him a warning glance before turning her attention back to you. "It's not just about Ser Gwayne" she said gently. "It's about his family, their ambitions. Otto Hightower has never hidden his desire to see his blood on the throne, and now he's using you to accomplish his plans."

You stiffened at her words, "I overheard them, Mother. I know what they're planning. But I also know that Ser Gwayne is not like them. He's different."

Daemon's laughter was filled with sarcasm. "Different? They're all the same, playing their little games for power. And you-" he paused, stepping closer to you, "— you're the prize they're all reaching for. Do you want to be a pawn in their game, niece?"

"No, Uncle. But I refuse to be a pawn in anyone's game; not theirs, not even yours."

Rhaenyra sighed, her hand dropping from your arm. "We only want what's best for you," she said softly. "You're a dragon, my daughter. You deserve to be with someone who sees you as my than just a tool for power." she said softly

"And he does," you insisted, meeting her gaze. "Ser Gwayne is sincere. He will be a good husband, and I will make this marriage my own. I won't let them control me. We both want this to be more than a political arrangement.”

Daemon shook his head "You're making a mistake," he warned. "But it's your life to ruin."

"If this is truly what you want..." he continued.

"It is," you replied firmly.

Your mother sighed deeply, her shoulders sagging in defeat. "Then we won't stand in your way," she said quietly. "But know this, my daughter if you ever need us, we will be here. Always."

You nodded, “I know you are, you will still be my family, my blood.”

The evening of your wedding was a storm of emotions. The grand hall was filled with the lords and ladies of the realm.

At the entrance of the sept, you stood in your wedding gown, the gown itself was a delicate shade of white, adorned with gold embroidery.

Over this, you wore a blue cloak, the color of House Velaryon, a symbol of your heritage and the life you were leaving behind.

Since your father, Laenor, couldn’t walk you down the aisle, your uncle did it.

Daemon Targaryen, stood beside you, his gaze steady, filled with pride as he lead you towards the altar.

The guests rise to their feet as you approach. At the end of the aisle, Ser Gwayne awaits, his eyes locked on you. His dark green cloak, the colors of House Hightower, rests over his shoulders, symbolizing the new life you will be joining.

As you reach the altar, the septon, steps forward. The ceremony begins with a prayer, invoking the blessings of the Seven.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger,” the septon says, calling upon the Seven to witness this union. “We gather in your sight to bless this marriage, that it may be strong and enduring.”

You and Gwayne face each other, the moment arrived for you to recite your vows.

Gwayne begins, “I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

At the same time, you respond, “I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

The septon then instructs “You may now kiss the bride”.

“With this kiss, I pledge my love,” Gwayne leans in, his gaze never leaving yours. His lips meet yours in a tender kiss.

The guests rise as you both turn to face them, their applause ringing through the sept.

When the ceremony was over, the feast began. The hall was filled with the sound of laughter and music.

Gwayne leaned in, his voice low. "You are radiant tonight, Princess," he murmured, his hand resting on yours.

He looks at you, his voice soft as he asks, “Would you honor me with a dance, my lovely wife?”

This time, you don’t hesitate. “Of course I will, my dear lord husband,” you reply, allowing him to lead you to the dance floor.

But just as you begin to relax, flowing to the rythm of the music, you hear a familiar voice.

“Such a lovely couple,” says Lord Otto Hightower. “It warms my heart to see you both so happy.”

You tense as you hold Gwayne tighter, as if he would run away if you didn’t.

“Thank you, Father,” he replies, his voice calm. “We are indeed fortunate to have found each other.”

Lord Otto smiles, “Indeed,” he says, his gaze lingering on you. “I trust that you will both make our house proud.”

After your dance with Gwayne, you return to your seat beside your husband. The hall is alive with the sounds of joy, but your attention is solely on the man next to you.

You lean closer, your voice a soft murmur. “You danced so well tonight, Gwayne. I almost forgot why I was avoiding you the other day.”

“Ah, so you admit to avoiding me? And here I thought you were just eager to dance with Ser Loras.” Gwayne said with a false indignation.

You smirk, your hand brushing against his thigh under the table. “Perhaps I was just trying to make you jealous.”

His gaze drops to where your hand lingers. “Is that so? And did it work?”

You lean in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper teasingly, “I do not know. You tell me,” he looked back at you and smirked.

You continued “but I think you have more to offer than just jealousy. And now I can’t help but wonder what other talents you might be hiding.”

“Is that so? Perhaps you’d like to explore those talents further?” Gwayne whispered in your ear teasingly.

You leaned in, “Mayhaps I do.”

His eyes filled with desire at your words, and he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "Shall we retire, my lady wife?" he asked.

You nodded, as he stood, offering you his hand.

Together, you left the grand hall, the eyes of the court following your every move as you made your way to your chambers

The moment the door to your chambers closed behind you, the atmosphere changed.

The formalities of the court were left outside, replaced by a fierce carnal desire for each other.

Gwayne turned to you, his eyes burning with a desire that mirrored your own.

"Princess," he began, "you've bewitched me. I've thought of nothing but this moment since I first laid eyes on you."

Your heart raced at his words, "And I you, Gwayne," you whispered, stepping closer to him. "I've wanted you from the very start."

He reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek. "You are the most beautiful woman l've ever seen," he breathed, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "And now you're mine."

You closed the distance between you, your lips crashing together in a kiss that was both desperate and sweet. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as his boner pressed against your crotch.

"Say it again," you murmured against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Tell me l'm yours.” You started kissing him down his jaw all the way to his neck.

"You're mine," he murmured, his voice filled with possessiveness. "All mine."

He obliged, pulling away just long enough to strip off his clothes, revealing his lean body.

You reached out, your hands trembling as they helped Gwayne take off his clothes. "Gods, Gwayne," you whispered, "You're magnificent."

His hands moved to your gown, untying the laces with a "Let me see you," he begged, his voice filled with desire. "I need to see you."

You stepped back, letting the gown fall to the floor, leaving you bare before him. The look in his eyes was one of pure adoration, as if he were looking at a goddess.

"Perfection," he breathed, stepping closer and pulling you against him. "You're perfect."

You gasped as his hands roamed over your bare chest, exploring every inch of your skin.

"Gwayne," you moaned, your head falling back as he kissed his way down your neck. "I need you, now."

He didn't hesitate, lifting you into his arms and carrying you to the bed, laying you down gently as if you were made of glass. "I've waited so long for this," he whispered. "But now that I have you, I want to savor every moment."

You reached out, your fingers wrapping around his wrist as you pulled his hand down between your legs. "Please," you begged, "Don't make me wait any longer."

He positioned himself over you, his body pressing against yours, as he rubbed your clit. “I'll give you everything," he promised. "Everything you want, everything you need.”

When he finally entered you, it was like everything else around you disappeared, leaving only the two of you in the heat of the moment.

The feeling of him inside you, filling you completely, was overwhelming, and you cried out his name, your nails digging into his back as you clung to him.

"Gods," he groaned, as he began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful. "You feel like heaven, my love."

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you as he sped his thrusts.

"Gwayne," you moaned, your voice filled with need. "You're everything. You're all I've ever wanted.”

His pace quickened at your words, his breath against your ear as he whispered, "And you're mine. My love, my life, my everything."

Every touch, every kiss, was a promise, a declaration of love that needed no words.

"Tell me you're mine," his voice filled with desperation.

"I'm yours," you moaned, your body arching against his as you reached your climax. "Always yours."

When you finally came, it was like an explosion, it felt way better than when you did it yourself. He followed soon after, his seed filling you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the only sound in the room were your gasps for air. He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms and holding you close as if he never wanted to let you go.

“You’re mine” he whispered one last time.

“And you’re mine” you replied, as you curled up on his chest.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the politics of the realm, not the disapproval of your family, not the future that awaited you.

All that mattered was the man beside you.

The first first ray of light came through your chamber’s window. You turned beneath the silky sheets, the warmth of Gwayne’s body pressing against you, his arm resting over your waist.

The memories of the night before remained in your mind. How he had made you his, worshipped you, as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

You turned slightly, feeling his jaw against your cheek, as he pressed a kiss to your neck.

“Good morning, my lady.” he said against the crook of your neck, while his eyes were still closed.

A smile played on your lips as you turned around to face him. “Good morning, husband” you replied, your voice teasing.

Gwayne’s eyes, bright with mischief, roamed over your face before settling on your lips. “I’m not sure if I told you enough last night how beautiful you are,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the line of your lips.

“You told me plenty,” you said, though your heart skipped a beat as his hand slipped lower, brushing over of your hip.

“Not enough,” he insisted, “I think I need to remind you.”

Before you could respond, Gwayne rolled you onto your back, hanging over you. His lips found yours in a kiss that started slow, deepening as you arched into him.

“I think you’re just looking for an excuse to delay our departure,” you teased between kisses.

“Can you blame me?” he asked, “Leaving this bed is the last thing I want to do right now.”

Without breaking the kiss, you pushed against his chest, gesturing him to lie back. His eyes widened in surprise, but a smirk appeard on his lips. “Taking control, are we?” he murmured.

“Someone has to,” you replied, positioning yourself on top of his hips. The feeling of him, hard and ready beneath you, made you wet. You took a moment to savor the sight of him, laid out beneath you, before leaning down to kiss him as he made his way inside you.

Gwayne groaned into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips tightly as you began to move, slow at first.

His eyes locked onto yours. “You’re incredible,” he breathed. “Gods, you’re perfect.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the praise, your movements quickening. Every touch, every word from him only elevated your desire, pushing you closer and closer to your climax. You rode him like your life depended on it, your bodies moving in perfect sync, the room filled with your moans and gasps.

“Gwayne,” you gasped, as you felt yourself close to your climax.

He captured your lips in a desperate, hungry kiss. “Come for me,” he murmured against your mouth. “Let me feel you.”

His words pushed you over the edge, your body collapsing on top is his. Gwayne didn’t last long before he joined you in your climax.

For a long moment, you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, eventually, you rolled off him, collapsing onto the bed right next to him.

“I could get used to waking up like this,” he said, with a soft smile.

You smiled back, reaching out to cup his cheek. “So could I,” you replied softly.

Gwayne seemed to sense your change in mood, his brow furrowing. “What’s wrong?”

You sighed, “I don’t want to leave. Or rather, I don’t want to say goodbye to my family.”

He nodded “It’s never easy, but you know they’ll be alright. And we’ll return soon enough.”

“I know,” you whispered, though the thought of leaving your mother and brothers behind still hurt you. “It’s just…we’ve always been together. And now…”

Gwayne leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’re not losing them,” he murmured. “You’re just starting a new life. And I promise you, we’ll come back as often as we can.”

You nodded, “You’re right,” you said, forcing a small smile. “I’ll just miss them.”

“And they’ll miss you,” Gwayne replied, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “But they’re proud of you, and they know you’re where you need to be.”

With a sigh, you pushed yourself up, slipping out of bed and reaching for the clothes that had been laid out for you. Gwayne watched you for a moment before following, the two of you dressing in silence.

As you tied the laces on your gown, you glanced over at him. “Ready?” he asked, extending a hand to you.

You took his hand, squeezing it gently. “As I’ll ever be.”

Together, you left the chamber, to say your goodbyes. You and Gwayne make your way to the courtyard. You embrace your mother and brothers, your voice trembling as you promise to write often and visit as much as you can.

Gwayne takes your hand gently, guiding you towards the carriage. With one last look back, you wave towards your family and you set off for Oldtown, hoping to live a good life filled with love.

PS: Im pretty sure this will be the last part, maybeeeee I will write another one with a time jump where they have children or something with the dance and choosing sides but idk.

[wholoveseggs]

would you ever do a story like Y/N is at a bar and some guy wont stop flirting with her and Elijah sees it and gets mad?

Insatiable

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You are at the club with the Mikaelsons, and your husband Elijah gets a little jealous when someone else hits on you.

♡♡ Thank you for the request sweet @nerdygamer829! I love writing possessive Elijah, and I would love to party with the Mikaelsons ♡♡

♡♡ Working on another fic i'll be posting tomorrow! Its a sweet domestic Elijah one ~xoxo ♡♡

3.9k words - Warnings: smuttt, possesive!elijah, dom!elijah, lots of drinking, drunk mikaelsons, drunk reader, public sex, rough sex, fingering, grinding, slight humiliation, exhibitionism, biting, blood drinking && dancing...

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer

Partying with the Mikaelsons was always a dangerous game, but one you would play on the regular. They were a fun group who could be a little wild in their partying ways, and if you weren't careful you would end up getting swept away with the craziness of the night.

Rebekah had convinced you to come out with them to a popular nightclub that was filled with sweaty bodies and the smell of alcohol and cheap perfume. She had been a bit mopey for a couple of days, having gotten into a fight with Marcel, so she decided a night out was just what she needed. When Klaus and Kol joined you both in the club, the night quickly devolved from there.

"Come on darling, drink up!" Klaus urged, handing you another shot of vodka.

You shook your head and held up a hand to refuse the drink. "Nope, I think I've had enough."

Klaus scoffed and shoved the drink into your hand. "Come now, sweetheart. I'll make sure you're not hungover, just have fun for once."

"You always say that, and I'm always hungover." You sighed, but then you proceeded to down the shot.

You winced as the alcohol burned the back of your throat and then slammed the empty glass down onto the counter. Klaus chuckled and shook his head at your pained expression. He signaled to the bartender for two more shots and handed you another, raising his own glass in a toast.

"To our night of debauchery." Klaus smirked, tipping his glass towards you before taking his shot.

You chuckled and then did the same. This time you managed to keep from making a face at the strong taste of the liquor. Rebekah came over and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, looking rather drunk. She was a giggly, happy drunk, and always wanted to dance.

"I love you, you know that right?" Rebekah said, leaning heavily on you.

You smiled and patted her arm. "Yeah, I know, I love you too, Rebekah."

"No, but … like … I really love you. You're the best thing that happened to my brother," she explained, nodding her head as she spoke.

Klaus and Kol snickered and Rebekah looked at them in confusion. "What? It's true! She is sooooo good for him. They're perfect for each other."

You rolled your eyes and took Rebekah's drink from her, making her frown. "Hey, I was drinking that."

"No more for you," you replied, giving her a stern look and handing it to Kol without even looking his way. He dutifully drank it back in one gulp and handed the empty glass to Klaus who shook his head and gave it to a random person walking by.

"Come on, let's dance, yeah?" you suggested, taking Rebekah's arm off your shoulder and dragging her to the dancefloor.

The two of you danced for a few songs until Rebekah got bored and went off to find some poor sucker to bite. You weren't really a fan of dancing alone, so you went looking for Klaus and Kol, but they were nowhere to be found. Eventually, you gave up and decided to head over to the bar for another drink.

You pushed through the throng of people and managed to get to the front. Leaning against the bar, you waved the bartender over and ordered a whiskey. You were really starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, your head buzzing and your movements a little slower than normal. You felt a warm hand on your lower back, you were about to turn and see who it was when the familiar voice of your husband sounded next to your ear.

"On me," he said to the bartender and the man nodded.

You looked over at Elijah and smiled. "You're late,"

Elijah took the drink from the bartender and handed it to you, leaning in to kiss you. "Just fashionably so."

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of the whiskey, relishing the burn as it went down your throat. Elijah wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, his hand settling on your hip. You looked up at him and smiled. He was so handsome, especially with the way the lights in the club cast shadows across his face and the way he was so casually dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt.

"You look good," you told him, placing a hand on his chest and looking up at him.

He smirked, leaning down to kiss you. "So do you. I don't think I've ever seen you in this dress before."

"It's Rebekah's, and she was determined I wear it," you replied, smoothing down the fabric that hugged your curves.

His dark eyes seemed to smolder as they roamed over your body, his hand sliding lower on your hip. He signaled the bartender for a drink of his own, keeping his other arm firmly around your waist, holding you close to his side. He was always so protective, especially in public. It was almost as if he was afraid someone would steal you away if he wasn't paying attention.

You finished your drink and set the glass down on the bar, leaning against Elijah's side and placing your hand on his chest. You could feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt, and you looked forward to the end of the night without the barrier of clothing between the two of you. Elijah had only arrived moments before, and already your body was reacting to his presence.

Klaus and Kol had returned and joined the two of you at the bar, the three of them discussing something that you weren't really interested in. Elijah's hand stayed on your hip the whole time, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your skin. You could feel the alcohol flowing through your veins, making your skin hot and your head fuzzy. You wanted to dance again, but this time with your husband.

"Come on," you tugged at Elijah's shirt, trying to pull him towards the dancefloor.

"I'll meet you out there, just a moment," he replied, turning back to the conversation with his brothers.

You huffed and gave him a look. "I'll just go dance with Rebekah, then."

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and smirked. You knew he wasn't a fan of the way people danced in clubs, he preferred something more formal, but you didn't care. You wanted to dance, and if he wasn't going to join you, then you'd just have to find someone else.

You made your way out to the dance floor, weaving through the throng of sweaty bodies. The music was loud, the bass thumping, and the air was thick with heat and lust. It was the perfect atmosphere for letting loose and having fun.

You couldn't find Rebekah, but you didn't let that stop you from moving your hips to the music. The alcohol made everything feel better, the sensations more intense, the beat of the music throbbing in your veins.

You felt a pair of hands on your hips, and you turned your head to see who it was. The guy was tall, with tattoos all over, his eyes raking over your body appreciatively. He smiled and began moving with you, his hands sliding up your sides, pulling you closer to him.

"You're gorgeous," he said in your ear.

You giggled, the alcohol making you more receptive than usual to a stranger's advances. His hands were firm and sure, and the way he moved his body was almost hypnotic. You felt yourself relaxing in his arms, allowing him to guide you as you danced.

"What's your name, gorgeous?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.

"Ohh that's a good question," you giggled again, feeling a little tipsy from all the alcohol you had consumed. "My friends call me (Y/N), but you can call me whatever you want."

The guy grinned, his eyes flashing with a predatory gleam. "(Y/N), huh? That's a pretty name."

You smiled, your head swimming with the buzz of alcohol. You were enjoying the attention, Elijah was always so busy lately that you rarely got any one on one time. You hadn't had sex in over a month, and the thought of it made your body ache with need.

The guy's hands wandered, sliding over your hips and ass, and you let him. He was attractive, and you were feeling reckless.

"Let me buy you a drink," he offered, his breath hot on your neck.

"Sure," you agreed, following him to the bar.

He ordered two shots of vodka, and you eagerly took yours. He chuckled and took his own, his eyes never leaving your face. He suddenly leaned in to kiss you, but you quickly deflected, turning your head so that his lips landed on your cheek instead.

You giggled nervously, feeling a little guilty for leading him on. "Sorry, I'm married,"

He didn't seem put off, smiling and shrugging. "So? I'm not going to tell."

You laughed and shook your head, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. You were a little flustered, and the alcohol was making your thoughts cloudy.

The guy placed his hand on your lower back, leaning in to speak in your ear. "Just one more drink, that's all I'm asking for."

This had gone a bit too far, and you were starting to get uncomfortable. "No, I'm sorry. I have to go,"

"You don't have to be such a bitch about it," he snapped, his hand tightening on your waist.

You pulled away from him, and his grip tightened, causing you to wince. He had switched up on you so fast, his tone and demeanor changing, and you knew you had to get away from him.

"Let go of me," you demanded, trying to pull away.

He refused to let go, his other hand moving to your ass, squeezing it roughly. You were getting angry now, and you were about to slap him across the face when your husband's voice sounded behind you.

"I suggest you let go of my wife, or else I will rip out your spine and beat you with it." Elijah growled, his hand coming down hard on the guy's wrist, breaking his hold on you.

The guy cursed, rubbing his wrist and backing up, holding his hands up in surrender. "Whoa, man, chill out. We were just having some fun."

Elijah grabbed the guy by the front of his shirt and yanked him forward, his eyes dark and full of fury. "You will never lay a hand on her again, is that understood?"

The guy nodded frantically, his eyes wide with fear. Elijah released him, shoving him away roughly. You watched as the guy disappeared into the crowd, and then turned back to face your husband.

Elijah looked furious, his eyes hard and his jaw clenched tightly. He had clearly seen what happened, and he wasn't pleased. You were worried he was angry at you for being so reckless, and you braced yourself for a lecture.

Instead he took your hand and led you through the crowd, not quite sure where he was taking you. The club was big, with several floors, and a variety of rooms. He finally found a quiet area on the second floor, overlooking the dancefloor, and turned to face you.

He didn't say a word, he just grabbed you by your waist and pushed you against the wall. His lips were on yours in an instant, rough and demanding, a stark contrast to his usual gentle way with you. 

His hand slid down your leg and pulled it up to hook around his hip, pressing his hardening cock against you. He was really worked up, and you couldn't deny the way it made your body respond, a bolt of pleasure shooting straight to your core.

"You're mine," he growled, grabbing your other leg and lifting you up, wrapping them around his hips.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, stroking the back of his neck to comfort him. "He... I... Just took it too far."

He nodded, a soft, possessive growl rumbling in his chest. "I saw you dancing, watching you grind against another man nearly drove me crazy."

You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair. He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes dark with lust. He was breathing heavily, his body pressed against yours, his hands holding you tightly, keeping you in place.

"I'm sorry, 'Lijah," you mumbled, trying to hide your smile.

His eyes narrowed, slowly smiling back at you. "You're not sorry at all."

He was right, you weren't sorry, not when his body was so close to yours, his hands all over you. He only behaved this way when you pushed his buttons in just the right way, and tonight you were happy to see his rough possessive side come out to play.

You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to look innocent. "No, not even a little bit,"

He smirked, shaking his head, his lips brushing over yours. "I know how much you like it when I show you who you belong to," he spoke softly, his hands sliding up your thighs pushing your dress up to expose your panties.

You shuddered, your heart racing in anticipation. "Yes, and tonight I think I really need a reminder."

He pressed his thumb against your clothed cunt, rubbing it in a slow, agonizing circle, making your toes curl. "We'll see how much you need to be reminded once I'm done with you,"

There was a dark promise in his eyes, and you couldn't wait to see what he had in store for you. He tore off your panties in one quick motion, stuffing them into his back pocket. His hand returned between your legs, finding your clit and circling it with agonizing slowness.

"Tell me, did he make you wet?" He asked, leaning in to suck on the flesh of your neck, his tongue tracing patterns on your skin.

"N-no..." you breathed, your hips bucking against his hand, trying to get more friction.

He chuckled at your desperation, his fingers sliding lower, "so this wet little pussy is all for me?"

"Just you," you whined, trying to keep quiet despite the throbbing need growing between your thighs.

He smirked, sliding a finger into your soaking cunt. You moaned, letting your head fall back against the wall, your eyes fluttering closed. He continued to slowly finger fuck you, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in a slow, firm circle.

"Please..." you whispered, your hips grinding against his hand.

"Please, what?" He asked, his voice a low growl.

"More," you breathed, unable to form complete sentences.

His hand went to your throat, squeezing lightly, his thumb resting on your pulse point. Your heart was racing, and your breath was coming in short gasps, your body aching for release. He added a second finger, his movements becoming faster, more urgent, his eyes never leaving your face.

You could feel your orgasm building, your body tensing with anticipation. Your hips moved in time with his fingers, your hands gripping his shoulders, holding yourself steady.

He suddenly pulled his hand away, your eyes snapping open at the loss of sensation. You were about to complain when he squeezed your throat again, harder this time. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a heated, passionate kiss, his body flush with yours, using his hips to pin you against the wall.

He used his free hand to unzip his jeans, pulling his cock out, smirking as you felt it press against your stomach. He didn't take his hand from your throat, merely used his grip to hold you in place.

You realized how exposed you both were, anyone could come up here, or look up from the dancefloor below and see your lewd display.

"Elijah... Wait, not here..."

"Not here?" He asked, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Not here where anyone can see how desperate you are for me?"

Your face heated up at his words, and you looked away, trying to avoid his piercing gaze. He suddenly gripped your chin, forcing you to

"Eli...," you whispered, looking up at him from under your eyelashes, trying to convince him to stop, pressing your hands into his chest.

"That's what makes it so much fun," he smirked.

Your eyes went wide when you realized there was no changing his mind. He was determined to fuck you, right here in the club, where anyone could see and it was turning you on more than it should.

He could sense your unease mixed with your arousal, he kissed you, softer this time, but no less urgent.

"I won't let anything happen to you, my love," he whispered against your lips, his hands moving to grab your hips. "Now spread your legs."

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding, and then did as he asked. He lifted you up, his hands cupping your ass, pulling you closer to him. You felt the head of his cock pressing against your entrance, and you moaned, your eyes closing as he eased into you.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his fangs scraping across your sensitive skin, his hips rocking slowly, pushing himself deeper inside of you. You could hear him breathing heavily, groaning softly as he filled you completely.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, your hands clutching at his shoulders, his skin hot beneath your fingertips. His pace increased, his thrusts becoming more forceful, each one sending waves of pleasure through your body.

He smiled, his eyes dancing with amusement. He was enjoying watching you struggle to stay silent, and the thrill of the possibility of being caught. And the way you clung to him, looking at him with desperation and lust. It was the most alive he had felt in a long time.

You could hear people coming down the hall, laughing and talking, and you froze.

"Elijah..." you breathed, panic in your eyes.

He placed his hand over your mouth, shushing you, his eyes focused on yours. He kept thrusting, his movements becoming rougher, his fingers digging into your ass.

"Do you want them to see how badly you need my cock? How you're practically begging me to fuck you harder?" He asked, his voice low and dangerous, his eyes full of mischief.

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head, your breath hitching in your throat. He continued his brutal pace, his body flush against yours, his hand still covering your mouth. You could feel his fangs scraping against your neck, his cock pounding into you, and you struggled to keep quiet.

The footsteps were closer, and you could hear their laughter echoing down the hall. If they saw the two of you like this, you'd be mortified.

Suddenly, he stopped, his hips stilling, his cock buried deep inside of you. You let out a soft, needy whine, desperate for more. He grinned, his hand leaving your mouth, moving to cup your cheek, his thumb running across your lips.

"Shhh," he whispered, his eyes flashing with amusement. "You don't want anyone to know what we're doing, do you?"

You shook your head, trying to catch your breath, your body trembling. The footsteps were fading now, the group moving on, and you let out a sigh of relief. He waited until the sound disappeared before he started fucking you again.

You gasped, your hands clinging to his shirt, your body aching with need. He held you tight, his hands gripping your ass, pulling you against him with each hard thrust. His lips were pressed against your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin. You felt his fangs scraping along your neck, then they sunk into your skin, piercing the flesh.

"Fuck, 'Lijah!" you gasped, your back arching, your toes curling as pain shot through your body.

The sting of his bite was sharp, but it was quickly replaced by a wave of intense pleasure. He growled against your skin, his hips moving faster, his cock driving into you deeper and harder, his movements frantic and wild.

He kept drinking from you, his body tense, his hands holding you tightly, his cock thrusting into you. He could feel his climax building, and he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. He pulled his fangs from your neck, his tongue licking at the puncture wounds, his hands grabbing at your hips, pulling you closer.

His lips were bloody, his eyes black with lust, his fangs still barred. It was the most beautiful sight, seeing him like this, and knowing that you were the one who had driven him to the edge.

You grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him in for a passionate kiss, his mouth warm and soft. He tasted like blood and sex, and you wanted nothing more than to be completely consumed by him.

You felt yourself tumbling over the edge, your body shuddering, a soft cry escaping your lips. He groaned against your mouth, pressing his hips against yours as he came, his body trembling.

He leaned his forehead against yours, both of you struggling to catch your breath, your heart racing. He chuckled, pulling back slightly, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Well, that was unexpected," he said, a smirk on his lips.

"Definitely," you agreed, unable to stop the smile that spread across your face.

He chuckled again, his eyes full of warmth. He slowly pulled out of you and set you down, keeping his hands on you, making sure you were steady. You fixed your dress, smoothing it down, a little embarrassed at what you had just done.

"I hope no one saw," you murmured, blushing.

He shook his head, his fingers gently lifting your chin so you were looking at him. "If they did, I wouldn't care. You're mine, and I want everyone to know it."

You giggled, leaning into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

He tucked himself back into his jeans and made sure you looked presentable, although you couldn't exactly hide all the hickeys and marks he left on your neck. His hand intertwined with yours as he led you back downstairs, a satisfied grin on his face.

Back on the dancefloor he pulled you close, his hand settling on the small of your back. You danced together, swaying to the music, his body pressed against yours, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

Rebekah, Kol and Klaus all watched the two of you from the bar, amused smiles on their faces.

"Do you think she knows that this place is pretty much packed with vampires... And everyone heard them?" Kol asked, glancing at his siblings.

Rebekah snorted, shaking her head, taking a sip of her drink. "I don't think so,"

Klaus laughed, a wide grin on his face. "Elijah definitely knows,"

"Oh, I'm sure he does," Kol smirked, winking at his sister. "And he doesn't give a fuck."

They all chuckled, and Rebekah raised her glass, gesturing towards her brother and you.

"To Elijah and his loud, insatiable wife," she laughed.

The other two raised their glasses and they clinked together, all three of them laughing. They watched as Elijah leaned in and whispered something in your ear, causing you to blush, and your heart to race. Partying with the Mikaelsons was never without a bit of scandal and mischief, and tonight was no different.

[cvnntagious]

Liquor | M. Sturniolo

"What did you slip up in my cup, girl? / 'Cause I want you." -Chris Brown

pairing : Bsf!Matt x Fem!Reader

summary : After a night of hard partying for his 21st, Matt couldn't think of a better gift than yours.

warnings : use of y/n, drinking, a pet name used once (baby), smut, sex while intoxicated, p in v, unprotected sex, riding, hair pulling, 18+

a/n : this lowk jumps right into it cs i forgot it was even their birthday until now (fake fan) and i'm sort of rushing, sorry. anyways, i theorize that if matt were a straight liquor guy (which i doubt cs cocktails seem more him), he'd love pink whitney.

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

The two of you stumbled into the house, eagerly kicking your shoes off at the front door. You guys were hand in hand as you giggled all the way up the stairs at the entrance of the Triplets shared home. Matt dragged you to the kitchen, his grin never faltering as he looked back to make sure you were still behind him, as if he weren't practically controlling your movements with the hold he had on your hand. "I have more," Matt slurred.

You giggled, less intoxicated than him, but still definitely feeling the liquor in your system. "Do we need more?"

"For tonight," Matt answered as he opened his white cabinet, pulling a large bottle of unopened Pink Whitney and some tiny red solo shot cups seemingly out of nowhere.

There was pure confusion written all over your face as you watched him meticulously pour two shots, as if this weren't his first night drinking. Matt looked up at you, noticing the look on his face as he kept him his drunken toothy grin, "What? I've been saving it."

"You do know there's little shot bottles you could've gotten, right? You're never gonna finish that entire thing," You teased him as he handed you the small cup.

Matt rolled his eyes. "Might take a few years, but it'll get finished," He playfully replied before lifting his shot to you, raising an eyebrow as if asking 'ready?'

At his proposition, you raised your shot up to his, clinking them gently before downing the alcohol. For being a supposed sweetened drink with the pink lemonade, it didn't hold back in creating that burning sensation in your throat. Both of you grimaced, clicking your tongues at almost the exact same time once you'd swallowed. The look you gave each other instantly made you guys laugh, amused by the faces you had on only amplified by the buzz of the many drinks you'd had tonight.

Once the laughter had died down, the two of you were left staring, shamelessly eyeing each other up and down. In a drunken stupor, it's easy to see someone in a light you'd never before, and right now, exactly that was happening. It felt like the air surrounding you had gotten thicker, and you were sure Matt felt the same with the way his chest heaved with each breath. "Something up?" Matt finally broke the ice.

"I couldn't help but think-" You started, only for your breath to hitch at the thought of what you'd almost admitted. Clearly the alcohol was giving you a confidence you weren't quite sure you liked.

Matt chuckled at your pause, tongue darting out to wet his pink lips as his eyes averted to the ground before sucked his teeth. "The same thing as me?" He asked, looking back up into your eyes, "You wanna give me a... birthday present?"

It took a moment to register what he meant, but when you did, your face immediately flushed. The way he'd read your mind caught you off guard, forcing you to question if you'd been this obvious all night. Of course, with your best friend all dressed in his best outfit to celebrate his special night with his brothers, casually passing liquor through his system and clinging to you in the club, you'd began to feel your second heartbeat at how good he began looking as the night went on. You knew going home with him was a bad idea, but you just couldn't find it in good conscious to let him get in that uber alone.

"Don't worry, I overheard your friend earlier," Matt explained, understanding why you probably went silent at him voicing your exact thoughts randomly, "When she was talking about how she'd love to give me a 'special present' tonight."

You gave him an embarrassed nod, unsure of how to respond to that. Matt sighed, having hoped you'd give him something more to work with. Something else that told him you wanted exactly what he did. "Well, I just couldn't help but think that if she would've offered, I would've easily said no."

Brows furrowing at his words, you tilted your head in confusion. "So..?"

"But I'm wondering if you're gonna offer, too."

There's a silence that almost pains him when he looks to your red-tinted face. "It's fine, you do-"

Matt groans when your lips meet his, arms instantly moving to wrap around you. His neck cranes to deepen the kiss, tongue now sliding into your mouth as both of your strong beverages throughout the night mixed with your saliva. You never thought you'd actually do this, but fuck where you glad you did. I suppose seeing Matt loosen up a little had turned you on more than you'd thought because you almost moaned at the feeling of his hands sliding up under your shirt and resting on the bare skin of your back.

"Jump," Matt demanded once he broke the kiss, catching you in his arms when you did as he said. His lips attached to your neck, carrying you over to his white couch, clearly too impatient to go just a few more feet in the opposite direction to get to his room.

He sat on the couch, your body on top of his as his hands reached down to grip your ass under your dress. "Matt," You breathed out.

Again, he sucked his teeth, unable to contain that buzzing grin he wore the majority of the night. He bunched your dress up over your ass and looked down at the wet spot on your panties, chuckling to himself as the thought of getting you so hot and bothered without actually doing anything alone was enough to stroke his ego in just the right way.

His finger slipped between your bodies, pushing the fabric that kept him from seeing his soon ti be favorite sight to the side. He looked up at you, lips parted as his breathing became ragged. He'd never give up something so gorgeous now that he had it, that's for sure. "You're dripping," He said after a moment.

"I– Fuck, I need you so bad," You admitted, lifting yourself ever so slightly.

Your words were like music to his ears, your pussy an artistic masterpiece pained by Michaelangelo himself. He didn't hesitate to unbuckle his jeans, only bothering to pull them down enough to free his cock when his boxers came down too. His dick sprung up, so hard that it hit his stomach and his pink tip looked an agitated red. Hands on your hips. he lined your fluttering entrance up with him, staring intently at your guys' most sacred parts before very slowly sliding you down onto him.

The stretch made you wince, causing Matt to lover you even slower. When he finally bottomed out, you both groaned. Your arms moved to wrap around his neck, taking a moment before using the leverage to push yourself off of him.

Agonizingly slow as you bounced on his cock, making him let out low groans. "Any faster?" He asked impatiently, although not wanting to rush you in case you were struggling to take him.

You giggle before picking up the pace. His jaw went slack and his head fell back on the couch almost instantly, stifled moans falling from his open mouth every so often. The way his blunt fingernails dug into your hips made you squeal, moaning with each thrust.

It didn't take long for him to grab a fistful of your hair from behind you, pulling your head back as you both moaned. The bouncing never stopped, a slick of sweat now coating your bodies. The moans and skin-on-skin slapping sounds were shameless.

"Mhm, fuuckk." Matt's chest heaved, having a hard time hiding the trembling of his body beneath you. "Close, baby— so close."

"M- me too," You struggled to say as Matt began helping your now tired movements.

"Cum-" Matt started, head dipping to rest on your sweat-covered shoulder, "Cum with me."

With that, you reached your breaking point, releasing all over his cock with a high pitched moan. The feeling of you clenching as you cam around his cock sent Matt over the edge, whimpering when he began painting your ruined walls. You guys rode out your highs, bodies slowing before coming to a complete halt.

Matt lifted his head to look at you, your face glistening with that after sex glow. He couldn't help but smile that same intoxicated smile.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Forced Family- Part 6

Part 5

Hero collapsed on the hotel bed. They had been up for over eighteen hours. No matter what they tried, they hadn’t been able to sleep on the flight. They weren’t sure if that was because of the altitude or their own worry, but it didn’t matter now. Hero quickly drifted off before they could think about showering or changing into sleepwear.

Hero was back on the rooftop with Villain. Villain was holding them close, their familiar warmth enveloping them.

“Why don’t you love me anymore, Hero?” Villain asked sadly, stroking Hero’s hair.

Hero froze in place, Villain’s touch no longer comforting, but suffocating. They tried to push Villain away, but they held them fast.

“Let me go!” Hero cried, but their voice barely rose above a whisper.

The rooftop erupted in flames, engulfing the pair.

“Come back with me,” Villain said, their voice echoing over the blaze, “I love you, hero.”

The fire was just about to consume them when Hero bolted upright in bed with a shout. They panted, cold sweat making their clothes cling to them. They looked around the room and breathed a sigh of relief. No one was here, it was just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. Hero got up to get a drink of water. They didn’t want to go back to sleep straight away. Out of the corner of their eye, they saw a shadow move. Hero froze.

Hero quietly formed two ice shards, approaching the spot where the shadow moved. They were just about to pull back the curtain when a weight barreled into them, pinning them to the floor.

“I got them!” Sidekick whisper-shouted.

Hero knew it wasn’t very heroic, but they opened their mouth to scream. Hopefully someone would hear them and- too late. Sidekick stuffed a cloth in their mouth at rapid speed and before they knew it, the gag had been secured with several layers of industrial tape wrapped around their head.

“MMM!” Hero tried.

Hero shot beams of ice upward, launching Sidekick off of them. They bolted to the door, but Villain blocked their exit.

“Hero, calm down!” Villain whisper-hissed.

Hero stared with wide, fearful eyes. They shot another beam of ice, which Villain easily melted with a shield of fire. Hero glanced at the window. It was their only chance. They made a beeline for it, but Supervillain appeared in the fire escape.

“Hero, stop,” they said sternly.

Hero glanced wildly around the room as the criminal family closed in around them. They shot a blast of ice in a wide arc, but Villain melted it with a counter-attack. Hero began to hyperventilate. Not again, they couldn’t go back, they couldn’t. They were cornered, they didn’t know what to do.

A sharp pinch in their neck told them they had lost. Hero screamed into the gag, falling to the floor on their knees. They sobbed and cried, holding their hands over their eyes. Villain approached them slowly, crouching down next to them.

“Hero,” they said quietly, “it’s okay- it’s all going to be okay.”

Hero shook their head as their mind and body started to slow down.

“Mm…” they sniffled.

Hero collapsed on the floor, unable to remain kneeling. Villain caught them and held them close.

“Shh,” they soothed, “we’re going home. Just sleep, we’ll take care of everything.”

Against their attempts to fight it, Hero quickly drifted off in Villain’s arms. Supervillain lifted Hero’s suitcase and led the family out of the hotel room. They’d be home soon.

Part 7

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[doxypsychlean]

is there a part 2 to Strong maybe bit of smut

Strong pt.2

Aegon ii Targaryen x Strong!Reader

Previous chapter: Strong pt.1

Warnings: Targcest, Explicit language, NSFW content, Blood, Aegon beats up Aemond(not that bad, I swear)

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

Additional info: Instead of Rhaenyra escorting the Strong fellas back to Dragonstone, they all stay in the Red Keep(just imagine it for a sec that Alicent begged her ass off and got Rhaenyra to stay, cs she wants to spend more time w her(this is my fkn world and in it, these two make up idc)

A/N: Ooop, here it fkn issss!!! Ngl, I was cackling like a middleschooler while writing the spicy part of this one. Welp... Cheers, you horny bastards!!!

P.S. I fkn lied, this is nowhere near close to the req. Sorry, dear Anon.

A choked up sob came out of the Prince's mouth as he rubbed the linen washcloth over the bitemarks on his neck. Tears welled up in his eyes, but Aegon was quick to blink them away, before the woman could see.

She was sat across him, on the edge of the bed, watching him as Aegon dabbed away the blood. She was already dressed, in a long, bell-sleeved green gown that showed off every curve of hers. Aegon sneaked a glance at her deep neckline, then quickly averted his eyes.

The woman noticed it immediately, eyes never leaving his face. She ran a soft hand over her shoulder and pushed her long, dark hair out of the way, so it could trail down her back.

"Our mothers, along with your sister, Baela and Rhaena are in the gardens." She said, voice gone back to its usual cushiness. "They invited me to join them. I trust you will behave?"

The silver haired man flinched at her question. His hands dropped down to his lap, pulling at the washcloth as his eyes looked down at the dirty sheets.

Behave. Behave. Behave.

"Love?" Her eyes narrowed, word coming out rough and low.

Aegon flinched again. He looked up at her, head shaking up and down violently. She let out an amused hum, then got up on her feet.

"Good." She was now standing next to him, one hand reaching up to his face. She took in the angry bruise she'd awarded him with the night before. Then the faint imprints of her hand that covered his face, neck and chest. The rest staying hidden from her eyes by the sheet Aegon had covered his lower half with. "You're so good."

Aegon whined, the pathetic sound reverberating in his head. Before he had time to curse himself out for it, her fingers hooked under his chin. He turned to face her, hands clutching and pulling at the washcloth.

"My brothers are with Aemond and Ser Criston, in the training grounds." She said, thumb running over his bottom lip. "You'll join them."

It wasn't a question, but an order. One he wasn't brave enough to not follow. Not after the things his sweet,sweet wife had done to him throughout the previous night.

"That's it." The woman laughed out as she bent forward, lips meeting with those of Aegon. "I must go, my love. Get ready, then head down. You'll find clothes on the chair over there."

His pale eyes shot open, following to where her hand was pointing at. He nodded once more, head falling down after. The Prince put the washcloth on the nightstand as he got up.

Although he was a few good inches taller than her, Aegon felt incredibly small. Weak. Worthless. Undeserving.

He hissed as her hands wrapped around his wrists, successfully getting her to pull away. For a bit. Then she grabbed him again, this time much more gently, and brought them up so she could take a closer look.

The porcelain skin was now red and swollen. The ropes had left behind thin, angry traces where they'd cut in, marring the blank canvas Aegon was.

"I am sorry, my dragon." She whispered as she peppered his inner wrists with soft, apologetic kisses.

"It's fine." The Prince finally spoke out, his voice hoarse and trembling. He was smiling down at her, trying to bite back another hiss. "I...enjoyed it."

The brunette looked up at him, plump lips meeting with the red skin for the last time before she let go. Her arms wrapped around his neck, body pressing close to his.

Aegon rubbed his bruised cheek against hers, melting in her hands.

"My dragon..." She trailed off, pulling him impossibly close to herself. "I love you."

Aegon whined again, the tears now falling freely from his eyes. His hands reached for her hips, nails digging into the green silk of the gown that covered them.

"Say it again..." He was falling apart, body shaking with the intensity of the sobs that left his mouth. "Please."

The woman kept quiet. The fingers that were rubbing small circles on the back of his head, stopped moving.

"Please." Aegon needed to hear it. Especially after the cruel words she'd punished him with the night before. "Tell me you love me. Please."

Love me. Love me. Love me.

But she didn't say it. Instead, she unwrapped her arms from around him. The Prince almost fell to his knees at the loss of contact.

"Get dressed." She turned around, walking towards the doors of their chambers.

Aegon became painfully aware of the pitiful state he was in- naked, crying and begging, covered in endless amount of bruises, scratches and marks. He tried to put himself back together, to wipe the broken expression off his face. But there was no point.

In just a few hours, she'd completely destroyed whatever it was, that was left of the Prince. He had no ground to stand on. Not anymore. He could yell in her face, break her to pieces, even kill her. But she'd die, knowing she won. Knowing that she'd broken him in, taken him down to being this sad, miserable excuse of a person.

"I love you." Her voice reached Aegon's ears. "I truly do."

Then she was gone.

────────────

"What happened to you?" Aemond asked as his brother approached him. He lowered his sword, signaling to Criston he'd take a break.

The knight offered a small nod, then turned his attention to the younger boys who were standing off to the side.

"Got into some trouble last night?" The one-eyed prince teased.

Aegon's head shot up, eyes staring up at his younger brother in shock. How did he find out, he heard his trembling voice inside his head. His legs almost gave out at the thought of Aemond knowing what she'd done to him. His brother already looked down on him, what must he be thinking now, that he knew his big brother was used like a whore.

"Told you that you shouldn't be going out into the city alone..." Prince Aemond said, hand reaching for Aegon's shoulder.

Aegon bit down a groan as his brother's hand came down on one of the bitemarks. He shook his head, his usual smug grin coming back on his face to cover the pain.

"It was nothing, don't worry about it." A relieved breath escaped through Aegon's words. Fortunately, Aemond didn't notice it.

The long-haired man lowered his hand, eyeing Aegon up and down suspiciously. There was nothing out of the ordinary. His brother looked a bit tired, a bit disheveled. Nothing he hadn't seen before.

He looked away for a second, then his eye came back to Aegon.

"What in the Seven Hells are you wearing?"

Aegon was sporting a high-collared black doublet, black pants and leather boots. That's not what shocked Aemond. It was the red shirt that showed underneath the doublet. The red cord it was embroidered with. The three-headed dragon pin on his chest.

Then his eye trained on Aegon's hands. The ridiculously large gold ring was resting on his little finger of his right hand. On his left thumb, however, was a simple steel band ring. One that had the sigil of House Strong on it.

Aegon turned red as he noticed the way his brother was inspecting him.

"Leave it be." He whispered, eyes going back to their nephews, who were now swinging at Ser Criston. "It doesn't concern you."

Aemond wrapped one gand around the back of Aegon's neck, eliciting a pained growl from his brother.

"You didn't get that nasty bruise out in the streets, did you?" Aemond teased, eye darting to his brother now and then. "No shame, brother. I honestly expected for your Strong lady to put you in your place way sooner."

Aegon didn't dare say a word. He stood there, allowing his baby brother to make his cruel joke.

"Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond..." Criston's voice rang out. "Would you join us? We have to even the odds."

Aemond turned nodded, then took a step forward. He turned suddenly, spinning on one heel.

"Would anyone blame me if that little bastard lost an eye whilst sparring?" He said with that smirk of his. "Do you think your Strong lady will come after me, do to me what she did to you?"

And there it was, the straw that broke the camel's back. Aegon's back.

He lunged at his brother, knocking him to the ground. With his newfound strength, it only took a few blows to the face for Aemond to pass out, his head bouncing up and down with every hit.

Ser Criston, Luke and Jace reached them in no time. They tried to pull Aegon off, but the Prince simply refused to let go. The rage had blinded him, all he could see was his brother's bloodied face.

But it wasn't the cruel jokes. Nor was it Aemond threatening to take their nephew's eye out. It was him, suggesting that the Princess would put her hands on Aemond the way she'd done to Aegon.

That was for him. The pain, the humiliation,the punishment. All his. No one else's. His alone.

"Aegon!"

And just like that, Prince Aegon let go. He allowed for Criston to pull him to his feet and away from Aemond.

All his. No one else's. His alone.

He shook off Cole's hands, then turned to stare at her. Waiting. For her to storm over to him, and show everyone where his place was. To show to his mother, his sisters, his cousins, his nephews.

But nothing came. She stood there, at the top of the steps, staring down at him. One hand extended out towards Aegon. Drawing him, guiding him.

He didn't notice how Alicent ran past him, nor did he see how she dropped to her knees, next to Aemond's unconscious body. He didn't notice the scared and confused looks on his nephews faces or the way his half-sister, Rhaenyra, looked from her daughter to him with a smug grin.

All he could see was her.

Aegon followed the woman into the Red Keep and up the steps, towards their chambers.

────────────

"Why?" She asked, flopping down on the bed.

He didn't respond. Aegon was too busy trying to undo the clasps of his doublet to notice she'd said something.

"Come here..." She murmured, hand reaching out for him just like it had out there.

He heard her this time. Without wasting any time he strode over, only stopping when he had to look down to get a good look of her face.

They stood there like that for a bit, neither saying a word.

Then she spread her legs slowly, making room for him.

"Closer, I can't reach you."

The Prince took another step forward, now standing between her legs.

"I asked you a question." She said softly, fingers quickly undoing the clasps, then the buttons of his shirt. "Why did you do it?"

"He threatened to take your brother's eye out."

"I don't like it when you lie to me, Aegon." Her whole demeanor changed in the blink of an eye. There was no gentleness to her anymore. She tugged at the strings of his breeches, untying them with one swift move. "So why? I want the truth."

Aegon Targaryen had never shied away from a woman's touch the way he did when his wife's fingers ran down his happy trail. He sucked in a breath.

"He..." The Prince turned to look out the opened windows.

"What did he do?" She looked up at him, two fingers hooking at the front of his pants and tugging down.

"He asked if you'd do what you did to me, if he were to take his eye out." Aegon admitted, shaking his clothes of his body.

"And that made you knock Aemond out cold because..." The woman almost laughed at her own words. Aegon got him good, she couldn't deny it.

She watched as his breeches fell to the ground, freeing Aegon from the tight grasp they had on him. He let out a hiss as the cold air touched him, his already hard cock slapping against his lower abdomen.

Aegon looked away again, too ashamed of how much effect she had on him.

Two hungry eyes were staring down at the head of his cock, deep shade of pink and already leaking.

"Because...?" She teased, hand wrapping around him.

Aegon let out a deep moan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. His pale face was turning red, making the purple bruise on his cheek stand out even more.

He hissed as she dragged her hand up and down the length of his cock at a painfully slow pace. The soreness of the night before still lingered, making every inch of his body scream in agony. Still, he found himself coming to love the feeling. The pain. The humiliation. The punishment.

"Because I don't want you to touch anyone else the..." His breath hitched as the brunette bent down a bit and licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock.

She felt him twitch slightly, making her let out an amused huff. A shiver ran down Aegon's back when he felt her warm breath hit him. His hand came to rest at the back of her head, gently massaging the skin underneath his fingers.

The sensation of her wet tongue dissappeared once she reached the tip, leaving the man to thrust his hips into the air. Then her full lips wrapped around the head, her tongue circling around it. She let out a low hum, the sound reverberating throughout his whole body.

"I don't want you to do what you did to me last night to anyone else!" He cried out, almost toppling over at the feeling of her tongue rubbing over the slit of his cock. "Just me..."

Her lips left him with a loud pop, the woman laughing softly at it. She wiped away the mixture of precum and saliva from her lips as she looked up at him.

"Just you, my dragon." She said as her hands wrapped around his wrists gently, guiding them towards her shoulders. "Help me get it off."

Aegon looked at her with a dumbstruck look on his face. His confusion didn't prevent him from sliding down the garment past her shoulders.

"You're not angry at me?" He asked.

"Quite the opposite..." The brunette said as she got up, leaving barely any space between their faces. "I'm proud of you, my brave dragon."

Another whine escaped Aegon as he slid his hands down her body, ridding her of her green gown. He pulled her close, their chest pressing against together.

He hid his face in the crook of her neck, planting wet, needy kisses on the skin there. Aegon lifted her up, the woman wrapping her legs around his waist quickly. He climbed on the bed while still holding her.

"I'm so sorry..." He said as he pulled away to look at her. "About yesterday. I didn't mean it, I just wanted to get a reaction from..."

She cut him short, pushing him off of her and then climbing on top of Aegon. On hand reached up to cover his mouth, the other going to his throat.

"I know." The Princess said, grinding down on him.

Aegon moaned from behind her hand, thrusting up. The grip she had on his throat got stronger. He stilled, his breathing did too.

The hand on his face turned, until her thumb was pressing down on his lips. He opened his mouth, tongue swirling around the single digit, cheeks hollowing as he sucked in.

"So good..." She whispered, her other hand sliding down his body and dissappearing between them. "So fucking good. For me."

Aegon's eyes fluttered shut as she wrapped her fingers around his cock, head shaking up and down with a choked moan.

"So brave..." The woman raised up slightly as she guided his cock to her, rubbing it over her slick cunt. "My brave dragon."

He bit down on her thumb as the tip of his cock entered her. The woman hissed, but didn't pull away. Instead, she hooked her other fingers under his chin, then shook slowly.

"Try not to bite it off or I'll have to return the favor." She joked, eyes darting from him to where their bodies met.

Both let out a chuckle, the sound soon getting replaced by Aegon's whines.

"Move." He unwrapped his lips from around her thumb, teeth still holding it in place. "Please."

"As my Prince commands..." Her breath hitched as she slammed down on him.

Her free hand trailed back up and then down again, nails digging in. Soon his porcelain skin turned to an angry shade of red, blood prickling.

Aegon couldn't hold back anymore. His hips snapped up, meeting with hers. Her palm collided with his face. He bit down on the digit in his mouth again with another hard thrust.

Another slap. His cheek was staring to sting. Then he did it again.

"You're enjoying it, aren't you?" She hissed out as she bounced up and down.

Aegon hummed, tongue rubbing against the pad of her thumb.

She pulled her hand away from his face, his teeth dragging over.

"I want to hear you." She said as she dropped down to his chest, legs giving out. "Say it."

Aegon mumbled a few incoherent sentences before wrapping his arms around her waist tight. He set up a painfully fast speed, skin hitting skin as he chased his own high.

Her mind went blank at the first thrust, hands pushing up as she tried to pull away from his grasp. She almost slipped away, but Aegon was quick to follow her. His head dipped down, lips wrapping around one of her nipples. He bit down and then sucked in, just as she'd done to him the night before.

A hiss came from the woman. One of her hands sneaked over his shoulder, then pulled his head back by his hair.

A thin string of saliva trailed from his mouth and down to her bruised nipple. He offered a toothy, devilish grin before licking his lips clean.

"I'm close." She stuttered, eyes shutting tight.

Aegon laughed out as his bruised cheek came to rest on her chest, his eyes closing. He kept the same pace, the sweet aching in his hips coming once more.

"Princess, the feast..." The doors flew open, one of her maids barging in. "Oh, Gods!"

The girl left just as quickly, blush creeping up on her face.

"Don't stop!" She moaned out as Aegon's thrust stuttered. "Don't!"

He laughed again, hips snapping. Then he stopped completely.

"It would seem I still don't know my place, wife." He craned his neck up as his mouth left behind a hot, blazing trail from her collarbones to her jaw.

"You'll learn..." The woman looked down at him, hand going back to wrap around his throat. "...husband."

[lucky-clover-gazette]

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 4

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

‘Does it bother you to think of him hurting your country?’ ‘You know it does. Are we playing now with the fate of nations? It won’t bring your brother back.’ There was a violent silence.

the girls are fightinggggg (love damen calling laurent on his misdirected bullshit)

‘You know, my uncle knew who you were,’ said Laurent. ‘He spent this whole time waiting for us to fuck. He wanted to tell me who you were himself, and watch it wreck me. Oh, had you guessed that? You just thought you’d fuck me anyway? Couldn’t help yourself?’

i’m sure it’s easier for laurent to entertain the notion that nothing damen did was real at all, and doing so also hurts damen, so two birds one stone

‘You said, “Kiss me”,’ said Laurent, each word enunciated clearly. ‘You said, “Laurent, I need to be inside you, you feel so good, Laurent,”’ He switched to Akielon, as Damen had, at the climax, ‘‘it’s never felt like this, I can’t hold on, I’m going to—’’

i did my complex analysis of laurent’s mean girl era last chapter. this is a good example of him just being a petty bitch for the reasons outlined in that analysis

‘Charcy,’ said Laurent, ‘was a distraction. I have it from Guion. My uncle sailed for Ios three days ago, and by now he has made landfall.’

and it worked, and laurent was too emotionally compromised to anticipate or prevent it. imagine laurent learning that, directly after being tortured. and now he’s dealing with this. Ls on Ls on Ls.

(or did he know? stuff he says later makes me think he might have, but then again, he also lies to damen a LOT in this scene)

‘I see. And my men are to die fighting him for you, the way that they did at Charcy?’

i mean the previous chapter already established that they both know laurent meant to be there, but if they’re doing cheap shots, i guess this works fine in a pinch

Laurent’s smile was not pleasant. ‘On that table is a list of supplies and troops. I will give it to you, in support of your campaign to the south.’ ‘In exchange for,’ said Damen, steadily. ‘Delpha,’ said Laurent in the same tone. He felt the shock that made him remember that this was Laurent, and not any other young man of twenty.

He had not come here prepared to negotiate. Laurent had. Laurent was here as the Prince of Vere facing the King of Akielos. Laurent had known who he was all along. The list, written in Laurent’s own hand, had been prepared before this meeting.

all true, but don’t underestimate the fact that laurent did NOT anticipate falling in love or actually trusting you as an ally

He said, ‘Did you plan this from the beginning?’

so "from the beginning" is complicated here. if i'm going to try to sort things out to the best of my ability, i think a good place to start is making a list of things laurent could NOT have expected at the beginning of the series, when he was presented with damen:

that damen would not immediately take any opportunity provided to him to escape captivity

that damen is a respectable and admirable person and invaluable strategic and military asset

that damen and laurent would fall in love (and even still now, i don't think laurent is letting himself believe damen really cares, and certainly isn't letting damen do the caring)

that the regent would try to assassinate his own nephew. laurent says in the text, at some point, that this was a genuine surprise, and that he didn't think his uncle would ever go that far

but, okay, even if laurent didn't expect the assassination attempt, or any of the other minor things in vere like the patras debacle, did he expect at some point to find himself and his men forced to do a military campaign? he must have, which is why he started the correspondence with delpha. i suppose he could have planned to do that from vere, too, and just adjusted things when he was forced to travel. and nothing that laurent failed to expect directly got in the way of the foundation of his plan, if his objective was to obtain delpha and make enough allies that together they can take down the regent.

so to answer damen's question, yes! laurent planned this specific long-term objective (taking delpha, getting kastor and the regent in ios, methodically turning a faction of powerful akielions against kastor and gaining the support of vask and patras) from the beginning. because he recognized damen the moment he saw him, laurent could immediately put together that kastor is allied with the regent, who would totally come up with something like this to torture laurent. and so laurent put his mental energy into planning a way to gain enough political and military power to defeat both kastor and the regent, and further manipulate them into being so confident that they would have no time to retaliate when the people laurent enlisted attacked them. i don't think laurent gave a shit if kastor lived or died, or stayed on the throne, as long as the regent was defeated, but it made sense for kastor to be a priority as well since the alliance between kastor and the regent makes the regent more powerful.

and, to be generous to laurent, none of this really has anything to do with damen. like none of it is designed to punish him, it doesn't even really involve him. it's another instance of laurent just living in a different genre from the start. damen's pov has been so fixed on his relationship and interactions with laurent, but there's been so much more happening that we just haven't seen. and laurent, i think we can assume, is and has always been deeply focused on things other than their relationship.

but even now, this plan doesn't do damen direct harm. the most harm it does is make things awkward with nikandros, and make damen feel bad about the regent being in his own country (which was probably going to happen anyway). but still, damen is super pissed. he doesn't realize or admit it, but i almost think the fact that laurent always had this plan makes him a little insecure. like, to realize that he hasn't been as important or useful to laurent as he previously assumed. on top of all the other stuff pissing him off about the situation, he's also jealous of an abstract plan, because it's had laurent's attention from the start, and right now laurent is choosing that plan over their friendship/relationship. a kingdom, or this.

laurent doesn't want to deal with "this," and honestly has some pretty pressing matters beyond "this" to handle, so he's chosen "a kingdom." even if damen's heart is still stuck with "this," he'll have to follow laurent's lead and focus on "a kingdom" too. i'm sure they'll both do a perfectly professional and functional job of this, and it won't make things inconvenient or uncomfortable for any of their allies at all.

‘The hard part was getting Guion to let me into his fort.’ Laurent said it steadily, the private edge to his voice a little more private than usual.

do they ever talk about it? like does laurent ever tell damen what happened in the cell?

also i like how damen doesn’t take this as like flippant and arrogant, as he would have in book 1. he immediately clocks that laurent is hiding something and just deflecting.

Damen said, ‘In the palace you had me beaten, drugged, whipped. And you ask me to give up Delpha? Why don’t you tell me instead why I shouldn’t simply hand you over to your uncle, in exchange for his aid against Kastor?’

like you ever would.

‘Because I knew who you were,’ said Laurent, ‘and when you killed Touars and humiliated my uncle’s faction, I sent the news of it echoing to every corner of my country. So that if you ever crawled back onto your throne there would be no possibility of an alliance between you and my uncle.

good failsafe, laurent didn’t know he wouldn’t need it. although i’m sure it’s both vindicating and hurting laurent to hear damen threaten this, making the failsafe necessary, even if we know that damen’s heart isn’t in it.

'Do you want to play this game against me? I will take you apart.’

this is all very complicated and unnecessary and frustrating to damen, but it's laurent's area of expertise. this kind of emotionally evasive manipulative political negotiation makes him feel empowered. the approach laurent takes in this scene is almost certainly a way for him to cope with the things in his life that feel uncontrollable and uncomfortable, by doing something familiar that he knows he can control.

‘Take me apart?’ Damen said deliberately. ‘If I opposed you, the remaining scrap of land you hold would have a different enemy on each side, and your efforts would be split in three directions.’ ‘Believe me,’ said Laurent, ‘when I say that you would have my undivided attention.’

this is soooo amy dunne of him

Damen let his eyes pass over Laurent slowly, where he stood. ‘You’re alone. You don’t have allies. You don’t have friends. You’ve proven true everything your uncle ever said about you. You made deals with Akielos. You even bedded an Akielon—and by now, everyone knows it. You’re clinging to independence with a single fort and the tatters of a reputation.’ He gave every word its weight. ‘So let me tell you the terms of this alliance. You will give me everything on this list, and in return I will aid you against your uncle. Delpha remains with Akielos. Let’s not pretend you have anything here worth a bargain.’

damen honey i’m so sorry but you cannot win this one. especially when you yourself would probably lay down your life on instinct for laurent if someone randomly came into this tent and tried to kill him

‘Please,’ said Laurent, ‘insult me further. Tell me more about my tattered reputation. Tell me all the ways that bending over for you has damaged my position. As if being fucked into the mattress by the King of Akielos could be anything other than demeaning. I am dying to hear it.’

and somehow laurent still manages to turn even his own shitty decisions back on damen, implying that even if laurent owned up to being fucked by damen, it couldn’t be anything other than demeaning, and damen is a fool for considering it to be genuine lovemaking

‘Did you think,’ said Laurent, ‘that I would come here without the means to enforce my terms? I hold the only proof of Kastor’s treachery that extends beyond your word.’ ‘My word is enough to the men that matter.’ ‘Is it? Then by all means, reject my offer. I will execute Guion for treason and hold the letter over the nearest candle.’

cunt (affectionate)

‘Are we going to play another kind of pretend?’ Damen said. ‘That it never happened?’

and in this game of pretend, damen doesn’t get to hand-feed a pretty blonde named laurent >:(

‘If you are concerned it will go unmentioned between us, never fear. Every man in my camp knows that you served me in bed.’

“you served me” GOD laurent you are such a bitch

And that is how it is to be between us?’ said Damen. ‘Mercenary? Cold?’

if laurent was normal, there are plenty of reassuring things he could tell damen to explain that they can do this together, and ios will be okay, and they're in a good position to win as a team. but since he's being a salty little bitch, he's not going to do any of that, and he's going to make damen feel extra bad by using their romantic history against him. and despite all of these slights against him, damen knows that he has no choice but to give laurent delpha and ally himself with laurent's cause. because laurent really has planned this from the beginning. sure, current damen probably still would have done all that if laurent had just asked, but book 1 laurent had no idea of anticipating their allyship, and book 3 laurent is intentionally trying to push him away.

‘How did you think it would be?’ said Laurent. ‘You’d take me to your bed for the public consummation?’ It hurt.

this is a brutal scene for damen, even if i understand laurent’s headspace. i’m sorry buddy, breakups are no fun.

actually, do you think damen has ever experienced a breakup? he’s a prince who grew up with a harem of sex slaves. jokaste just kind of did whatever she wanted and damen was chill with it. so probably not.

It was too neat. He hadn’t thought as far as Kastor’s defeat, or who would become kyros in Ios, the traditional seat of the King’s closest adviser. Nikandros was the ideal candidate.

not laurent doing damen’s job for him…

‘I see you’ve thought of everything,’ said Damen, bitterly. ‘It didn’t have to be—you could have come to me, and asked for my help, I would have—’ ‘Killed the rest of my family?’

i mean, laurent definitely wants the regent dead. i think this is just a dig about auguste, and furthermore about damen not telling laurent the truth at any point.

also, damen straight-up admitting that he would have helped damen is something laurent would have needed a gun to his head to say out loud, and there aren’t even guns in this world. i said this in a note last chapter, but laurent assumes that damen is just as terrified of attachment and vulnerability as he (laurent) is, but we see that damen is willing to swear attachment and make himself vulnerable in order to support laurent and build trust. laurent is just denying that aspect of damen, because he’s traumatized and stubborn and doesn’t want to be let down.

Thickly, Damen remembered running his sword through the man he’d believed was the Regent; as if killing the Regent would be his expiation. It wouldn’t.

that explains why damen acted how he did in battle. but he also knows, in the reality of this moment, that it wouldn’t have made up for auguste even if he had killed the regent. killing a member of laurent’s family isn’t going to make up for the fact that he killed a member of his family.

He thought of all Laurent had done here, every piece of impersonal leverage, to control this meeting, to ensure it played out on his terms. ‘Congratulations,’ said Damen. ‘You’ve forced my hand. You have what you want. Delpha, in exchange for your aid in the south. Nothing given freely, nothing done out of feeling, everything coerced, with bloodless planning.’

this is almost laurentian, in terms of dialogue. very poetic and theatrical. damen is not handling this breakup well, and it’s almost like he’s defensively taking on some of laurent’s overdramatic bitchiness. it’s a reaction from him we haven’t really seen since book 1.

this dialogue also feels slightly anachronistic, in a good way. with some minor editing it could be a believable text that modern au damen would send after laurent breaks up with him in a formal email even though they still have to work on an assignment together. i think it's the "nothing given freely, nothing done out of feeling, everything coerced, with bloodless planning" that really gives off the vibe of an emotionally compromised teenager trying to cope with the fact that they still have to see their ex in english class.

‘Good,’ said Laurent. He took a step back. Then, as if a pillar of control had finally collapsed, Laurent surrendered his full weight to the table behind him, his face drained of all colour. He was trembling, his hairline pricked with the sweat of injury. He said: ‘Now get out.’

laurent: i won. get out. also laurent:

Laurent had known who he was, and had still made love to him. He wondered what mix of yearning and self-delusion had allowed Laurent to do that.

may i interest you in the “sam reads capri” tag on my tumblr blog, damen?

also i just think “he wondered what mix of yearning and self-delusion has allowed laurent to do that” is a BANGER line. maybe one of my favorites in the series. astute, bewildered, devastating (sad), and devastating (scathing) all at once.

If he’d imagined it, it was as a single, cataclysmic event, an unmasking that, whatever followed, would be over. Violence would have been both punishment and release. He had never imagined that it would instead go on and on; that the truth had been known; that it had been painfully absorbed; that it would be this crushing pressure that wouldn’t leave his chest.

damen always thought that he would be the one to rip off the bandaid for them both, so the entire time he has been saving them the pain by waiting. but now he knows that laurent never had a bandaid, and he (damen) has been left to slowly and painfully pry off his own. the pain isn’t over, it’s just beginning. and laurent has felt it this entire time, in a way damen put off for himself.

Laurent had tamped down the smothered emotion in his eyes, and would endure an alliance with his brother’s killer, though he felt nothing but aversion. If he could do it, Damen could do it. He could make impersonal negotiations, speak in the formal language of kings.

(also wow do i want to tell damen that laurent isn’t averse to him, he’s just lashing out, and badly needs someone to show him love and support at this time. but as always, oh fuck, he can’t hear me. and to be fair, it isn’t really in-character for damen to just passively accept poor treatment, or to force laurent to accept his support when he’s been told to go away.)

The ache of loss didn’t make sense, because Laurent had never been his. He had known that. The delicate thing that had grown between them had never had a right to exist.

and yet it did exist, and it does exist, and it will exist, and that’s why we’re reading about it.

damen and laurent both feel like they have a right to their kingdom’s thrones as princes, but they don’t have the right to simply be people in love. again, a kingdom or this. the themes are theming.

If it hurt, it was fitting; it was simply kingship.

what did i just say??? THE THEMES ARE THEMING!!!

If he could give Laurent up, he could do this.

stoppp can someone get him a pint of ice cream and an olivia rodrigo album (should i make lamen divorce era playlists. like one for each of them.)

Damen remembered hoping for a homecoming where it could be between them as it was in the old days. As if friendship of that kind could survive statesmanship.

damen’s being soooo broody about the ways kingship nerfs his social and romantic life, omg. it’s a hint of his immaturity and relative youth to other people in power, and his difference in jadedness and trauma compared to laurent. he is still lowkey a frat guy who wants to party, even though he cares about his schoolwork and future prospects

‘He’s playing us against each other,’ said Nikandros. ‘This is calculated. He is trying to weaken you.’ Damen said, ‘I know. It’s like him.’

"yes, honey..."

nikandros private twitter venting moment #4. especially considering damen’s response

‘He left us at Charcy.’ ‘There was a reason for that.’ ‘But I am not to know it.’

damen doesn’t really know the reason, but he can assure nik, there was a reason. nikandros private twitter venting moment #5.

It was not worth Delpha. He could see that Nikandros knew it, as Damen had known it. ‘I would make this easier,’ said Damen, ‘if I could.’ Silence, while Nikandros kept his words in check.

nikandros private twitter moment #6. this time he just posts a blurry picture of laurent’s offer and captions it with “🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬”

‘The men will talk,’ said Nikandros. He was pushing the words out with distaste, he did not want to say, ‘About—’ Damen said, ‘No.’ And then, as though Nikandros couldn’t help the words that came out next, ‘If you would at least take off the cuff—’ ‘No. It stays.’ He refused to lower his eyes.

kind of curious why, in this moment, damen is so determined about this. he’s had reasons in the past, but it would be cool to get some current insight, if it’s not just an instinctual thing

Nikandros turned away and put his palms flat on the table, resting his weight there. Damen could see the resistance in Nikandros’s shoulders, bunched across his back, his palms still flat on the table.

nikandros private twitter moment #7. he just posts this meme with no further elaboration:

Into the painful silence, Damen said, ‘And you? Will I lose you?’ It was all he allowed himself. It came out in a steady enough voice, and he made himself wait, and say nothing more.

AWWW poor baby :( no like fr damen :(((( it’s going to be okay

As though the words were coming up from the depths of him, against his will, Nikandros said, ‘I want Ios.’ Damen let out a breath. Laurent, he realised suddenly, wasn’t playing them against one another. He was playing to Nikandros. There was a dangerous expertise in all of this; in knowing how far Nikandros’s loyalty might be stretched, and what would keep it from snapping. Laurent’s presence in the room was almost tangible.

i think this was more an unintended outcome of the plan, but i’m sure mean girl era laurent would be pleased to know that his actions inadvertently incentivized damen’s best friend to declare himself loyal to his ex (laurent) instead

‘Listen to me, Damianos. If you have ever valued my counsel, listen. He is not on our side. He is Veretian, and he’ll be bringing an army into our country.’ ‘To fight his uncle. Not to fight us.’ ‘If someone kills your family you don’t rest until they are dead.’

i know this is nikandros trying to convince damen that laurent isn’t just going to let go of what damen did to auguste, and can’t be trusted as an ally. but it also makes nikandros accidentally sound like a book 1 laurent apologist, by making the statement with “you” as if it’s a universal maxim. like, if nik was in laurent’s shoes, he would have wanted damen tortured and dead too. nik is an interesting guy, because he's a little more aggressive with his principles unprovoked than damen, but he’s also similarly limited in perspective due to his status and lack of humbling experiences. i’ll try to do more complex analysis in addition to memeing on him, if/when opportunities arise

Nikandros was shaking his head. ‘Or do you really think he’s forgiven you for killing his brother?’ ‘No. He hates me for it.’ He said it steadily, without flinching. ‘But he hates his uncle more. He needs us. And we need him.’

damen going full ant with a bindle :(((

‘You need him enough that you would strip me of my home, because he asked you to?’ ‘Yes,’ said Damen.

nik private twitter vent #8. this time he literally just tweets a single “.”

The men came to attention as he passed, and said only, ‘Exalted,’ if he spoke. It was not like sitting around a campfire swilling wine, exchanging low tales and ribald speculations.

he should be at the club

Jord and the other Veretians from Ravenel had been sent back to Laurent to rejoin his army in the extravagant tents at Fortaine.

jord and the others standing awkwardly nearby laurent’s tent, trying to ignore the muffled adele ballad playing within

Alone, he didn’t have to be King.

i can’t believe that damen, groomed from birth for eventual kingship, now resents that kingship almost exclusively because it means he can’t be boyfriends with laurent. blonde man brainrot

He wasn’t alone. She was naked, at the base of the stark pallet, her full breasts hanging downwards, her forehead to the floor. She didn’t have palace training, and so could not quite disguise the fact that she was nervous. Her fair hair was caught back from her face in a fragile clasp, a northern custom. She was perhaps nineteen or twenty, her body trained and ready for him. She had prepared a bath in an unadorned wooden tub, so that if he pleased he might make use of it; or of her.

the way this is written, especially in the context of the series so far, makes this hard to read as anything other than revolting. i think this is due to a few craft elements:

the clinical description, lacking sensuality entirely

damen relating the things he’s observing to the aspects of the institution that he understands (she wasn’t trained in the palace = slaves are trained to do this. she was placed here for him to use = she didn’t show up here because she wanted to be here, or even knew him at all, or wanted pleasure of her own). unlike his past self, who passively understood the institution but chose not to think too hard about what it implied, the mental connections damen has made through being a slave himself prevent him from regarding this slave with the same thoughtlessness

damen's observations portray the anxiety and vulnerability of the slave, rather than willingness or submission. in book 1 we have a lot of moments where damen thinks of slaves as lovely, sweet, aimless non-people, almost like they're lobotomized. he regards them in a way that's both condescending and unconcerned for their free will, because they don't want or need free will, because they're slaves. his issue with the mistreatment of the akielion slaves in vere wasn't with their enslavement itself; it was with the cruelty of their masters, non-slaves who have free will and therefore should use it honorably. at the time, he truly believed that, as long as a master is kind, a slave has no reason to feel anxious or vulnerable or afraid, because there is honor in a slave's submission. if book 1 damen noticed that a slave was nervous, he would have found it adorable and charming, and would have taken it as an invitation to prove himself a caring master. but that doesn't even cross his mind here, while noticing this slave's nervousness in book 3.

another interesting craft detail: a sort of parallelism in the last part. damen notices that the bath, an object, has been prepared for him—just as the slave, a person, has been prepared for him. he groups them together, in that their same designated function is to be used: "he could make use of it; or of her." and that's where he stops the description altogether, because i don't think he feels comfortable with what that similarity between person and object implies.

it's easy to simply tell a reader that a character has evolved. if this story was written by a different author, there might have just been a moment where damen said out loud, "actually i've realized that slavery is bad," while the topic was otherwise avoided beyond its relevance to the story.

it's much harder to show, consistently throughout the story, exactly how that evolution has occurred, and the difference in damen's perspective compared to how he'd thought about slavery at the start. well done, pacat.

He had known that there were slaves with Nikandros’s army, following behind with the carts and the supplies. He had known that when he returned to Akielos there would be slaves.

… but seeing it in person is still viscerally uncomfortable

‘Get up,’ he heard himself say, awkwardly, a wrong order for a slave. There was a time when he would have expected this, and known how to behave around it. He would have appreciated the charm of her rustic northern skills, and bedded her, if not tonight then certainly in the morning. Nikandros knew him, and she was his type. She was Nikandros’s best, that was evident; a slave from his personal retinue, perhaps even his favourite, because Damen was his guest and his King. She got up. He didn’t speak. She had a collar around her neck, and metal cuffs around her small wrists that were like the one that he— ‘Exalted,’ she said, quietly. ‘What is wrong?’ He let out a strange, unsteady breath. He realised that his breathing had been unsteady for some time, that his flesh was unsteady. That the silence had been stretching out between them too long. ‘No slaves,’ said Damen. ‘Tell the Keeper. Send no one else. For the length of the campaign I will be dressed by an adjutant, or a squire.’

see my previous comment. this is really well-done, especially the panic attack-esque reaction and ptsd trigger. i made a comment a WHILE ago about the way both damen and laurent have ptsd in this series, but it manifests differently due to their proximity to their own traumas. laurent’s trauma was prolonged but a few years in the past; he’s had a lot of time to learn how to cope with it since. but damen’s trauma began when the story began, and it’s been intense and unrelenting basically the whole time: his father’s death, kastor and jokaste’s betrayal, his enslavement, his time in arles, his loss of identity by laurent’s side, and his forced return to his royal identity and obligations. that’s a lot of shit to unpack, and most of it is still happening. it's raw, and damen has had no time to process. nor has he received comfort, or even acknowledgement of what's happened to him as the trauma it is.

"he realised that his breathing had been unsteady for some time." this is a person experiencing a ptsd trigger for what might be the very first time, realizing as it happens just how quickly and thoroughly trauma can disorient his mental, physical, and emotional awareness and self-control. there is the complex intellectual development i discussed in the previous comment re: damen's feelings about slavery, but it's also this visceral gut reaction that tells damen and the reader that things will never be the same.

‘Wait.’ He couldn’t send her naked through the camp. ‘Here,’ he unpinned his cloak, and whirled it around her shoulders. He felt the wrongness of it, pushing against every protocol. ‘The guard will escort you back.’

he felt the wrongness of doing the right thing, but he still did it anyway. i think that is a big moment for damen, especially relating to akielion slavery.

i know i talk a lot about laurent in these notes, because i love laurent very much. but i also love damen, and i’m glad that he is our narrator. his pov is a big reason why these books work, in their chosen genre, at all. and i do think that this genre was a choice—laurent may be living a gritty psychological thriller, but a big theme of the series as a whole is that laurent was sweet in the past, and has the right to a life where he can be sweet again. but laurent, as we meet him at the start of these books, is heartless by choice. damen is many things, but he is never heartless. and whatever genre these books are, i think they're deeply defined by the fact that they're written with heart. they are not cynical, and they are not jaded. that's why damen, and not laurent, is our narrator. laurent's cynicism and jadedness are a foil to damen's idealism and trusting/forgiving nature. while damen does have some things to learn from laurent about strategy and cultural misconceptions, the ethos of the series matches damen's emotional and philosophical outlook far more than laurent's. ultimately, damen's heart helps laurent reclaim his sweetness, and become a better ruler and happier person. damen's heart is also what leads damen himself to reform akielion slavery, unite his kingdom with vere, and step out from his father's shadow. this is, at the end of the day, damen's story. and i don't think it would be the same story, with the same meaning or heart, if it was told by anyone else.

which, regarding meaning—in addition to the individual chapters, i do want to start thinking more about some of the more overarching things going on with capri. so i might as well start now. and if i had to start formulating an overall series thesis at this point in the re-read, i think it would have something to do with the concepts of submission and captivity.

captivity and submission both imply, in our common perception, a coerced and degrading loss of free will. and we certainly see that, in the way damen and laurent have both been held captive and degraded throughout their stories. we also see how, despite being victims themselves, they both have used captivity and submission to coerce and degrade others (laurent coerces and degrades damen to avenge his brother) and deny them free will (damen is complicit in the institution of akielion slavery, which denies slaves free will). for a lot of the series, damen and laurent are in constant disagreement about which of them is morally worse—damen thinks laurent is worse because of the coercion and degradation, laurent thinks damen is worse, and therefore deserves the coercion and degradation, because damen is complicit in akielion slavery and killed his brother. but we as the reader start to realize, as the series goes on, that they're both right about some things, both wrong about other things, both hypocrites on occasion, both doing harm, both trying to help, both captors, and both captives.

from this, it would make sense to assume that captivity and submission are the problem here, and the story's thesis is that those concepts are always dishonorable. however, i don't think that's the point at all. i think capri is about the ways captivity and submission can be honorable, if actively chosen with the moral responsibility, complex thought, and emotional depth of a person with free will. after all, what are loyalty and integrity, if not freely-chosen emotional and intellectual captivity? what are vulnerability and attachment, if not physical and emotional submission freely given?

damen and laurent are both complicated people who do dishonorable things. however, in their own respective arcs and in their shared romantic plotline, they both come to understand the multifaceted nature of captivity and submission, and reclaim those concepts as sources of empowerment, healing, and positive change. it's the difference between damen being forced to submit to laurent as a slave in arles in book 1, and damen choosing to stay by laurent's side in book 2 as a man. it's the difference between laurent submitting to his uncle, being manipulated into vulnerability so he can degraded and abused, and submitting to damen, making himself vulnerable despite his trauma so he can be truly loved and cared for.

this isn't a fully formed thesis yet, but it's good to at least get it cooking. and i'm not trying to guess the author's intention as much as summarize my own succinct interpretation. there isn't, like, One Right Answer here, and i'm not setting out to read the author's mind.

but still, i dunno, man… i think i'm onto something. after all, we have these major arcs about damen realizing slavery is wrong and laurent struggling with submission, and yet both of them proudly choose to keep the cuffs. and in a more metatextual sense, the evolution of this story's genre and purpose (slavekink erotica -> whatever the fuck these books are) is not irrelevant. so i'll keep an eye on it, and hopefully come up with something solid by the end of the re-read. i unironically love the challenge of writing a succinct thesis, which is not the nerdiest thing i've ever said, but it's definitely in the top 5.

[jrob64]

A Love/Hate Relationship - a CS modern AU one-shot

I wrote this story because I was in need of fluff, humor and hurt/comfort after the painful experience of losing two dogs in less than a year. Zeke, who was in my story Sowing Seeds of Trust, died of cancer last June. Two months later, we adopted Winston, who was the main character in Pet for Rent. Somehow, he swallowed part of a brush (while he wasn't at home) which perforated his intestines and caused internal bleeding. He died May 23. Writing my favorite trope for my favorite couple is therapeutic for me as I deal with my heartbreak.

Many thanks to @kmomof4 and @hookedmom.

Summary: Killian Jones' neighbor, Emma Swan, has hated him since the first day they met. When she finds out he came down with the flu and attempts to nurse him back to health, he's more than a little confused.

Rating: T

Words: 2582

Also posted to ffn and Ao3

Story is under the cut

*********

Killian Jones buried his face in a pillow and pulled it up over his head in an attempt to stop the incessant pounding. After several painful moments, he realized the noise wasn’t in his head, but was coming from the front door of his apartment.

Groaning, he tossed back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting with his head in his hands for a short while. When he finally got to his feet, he swayed dizzily and stumbled into the door frame, leaning against it to try to regain his balance.

He eventually made his way across the living room, unlocked the deadbolt and threw the door open. “What?” he demanded loudly, regretting it immediately when a sharp pain shot behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut before even registering who was on the other side of the door.

“Jones, how many times do I have to tell you to…Wow! You look like hell.”

Killian cracked his eyes open enough to see his neighbor from across the hall, Emma Swan. Infuriating to the highest degree and just as beautiful, she was the last person he wanted to see while he was in his current state. The two of them had a love/hate relationship…minus the love.

They had gotten off on the wrong foot when he moved in a little over a year ago. Unaware that she was a police officer who worked the night shift, he woke her up shouting orders at the movers. Emma Swan was not a morning person, especially after working an eight hour shift on the streets of Boston, and she informed him of it in no uncertain terms.

After that day, every interaction between them was filled with tension and snarkiness. Killian wished they could go back to when they met and start over again, because he knew she was basing her hatred of him on that first impression. In all honesty, he was quite intrigued by the fierce blonde and would like to know if there was a sweet or funny side of her she kept hidden very deep inside. Very, very deep.

Now she was here, standing at his door, scrutinizing him like a bug squashed on the bottom of her shoe. “Hangover?” she smirked.

He sighed. “I have the flu, Swan. It’s been going around at the office and I wasn’t lucky enough to avoid it. Now, if you’re done yelling at me, is there something I can help you with? If not, I’d really like to go back to bed.”

She took a step forward and unexpectedly pressed her palm to his forehead, then both hands to his unshaven cheeks. “You’ve got a fever.”

“Usually accompanies the flu. Now if you’ll…”

“Do you have medicine?”

“No, I…”

“Have you eaten? Are you drinking plenty of fluids?”

“I haven’t…”

“How long have you had it? Have you seen a doctor?”

Killian rested his pounding head against the door. “Must you use your interrogation techniques on me? I haven’t committed a crime, you know.”

“I’m trying to help,” she said, clearly offended.

“I could use less help and more sleep,” he grumbled.

“Yes, good,” she said, pushing past him into his apartment. “Go back to bed and I’ll get you something to drink. Do you want water, juice or…”

“More questions, Swan? Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“All you have to drink is water, Dr. Pepper Zero and beer?” she asked, peering into his refrigerator. Closing it, she straightened up and began opening cupboards. “Do you have tea bags? British people like to drink tea, don’t they?”

He knew it would hurt his head to roll his eyes, so he simply threw up his hands and trudged off to his bedroom. Behind him, he could hear Emma celebrating the fact that she’d located the tea bags.

He had just gotten back to sleep, when he was shaken awake. “What now?” he growled, flopping onto his back.

“I made some tea and found Advil in your medicine cabinet. You need to drink something and get these pills in you.”

He raised his head and blinked up at her blearily. “You went through my medicine cabinet?”

“Yeah. Did you know condoms have an expiration date? The ones you have in there expired almost two years ago. Better not use them, because they’re likely to break.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, letting his head drop back down on his pillow. “Please just let me die.”

“You aren’t gonna die from the flu, Jones.”

“I meant from embarrassment,” he muttered under his breath.

“Sit up,” she commanded, sliding her arm under his pillow and pushing until he did as he was told.

First, she handed him a bottle of water. After glaring at her for several seconds, he finally took it, then swiped the two pills she held in her other palm. He popped them into his mouth and downed them with the water.

“Happy now?” he asked.

“Deliriously,” she quipped. “Now drink your tea.”

He accepted the mug she offered him and held it to his lips. Cautiously taking a sip, he grimaced and spit it back into the cup. “Did you heat the water at all? It’s barely warm! And how bloody much sugar did you put in it?”

“Well, I didn’t want you to burn your mouth,” she explained haughtily. “And I put in the same amount of sugar as I put in my coffee. Four spoonfuls.”

“Four?” he questioned. “Are you trying to kill me, or just give me diabetes?”

“You’re not a very good patient, Jones. You could at least be grateful that I’m helping you.”

“If you recall, I didn’t ask for your help.”

She ignored him, fluffing his pillow and pushing at his chest to get him to lay back down. “I found a can of chicken noodle soup in your cupboard. I’m going to heat it up.”

“Don’t add any sugar to it,” he groused, as she walked out of the bedroom, taking the tepid cup of tea with her.

“I heard that,” she threw over her shoulder.

“Of course she heard that, but didn’t hear when I told her to leave me alone,” he mumbled into his pillow. He tossed and turned, knowing that if he went to sleep, the maddening woman would just wake him up again.

Sure enough, she was back at his bedside within ten minutes, carefully carrying a plate containing a steaming bowl of soup and a small stack of saltine crackers. He sat up before she could order him to, and took the plate from her.

“You didn’t add anything to this, did you?” he asked.

“Nope, I just heated it up,” she assured him.

He dipped the spoon into the soup, blew on it and put it in his mouth, then promptly choked and sputtered. “Bloody hell, Swan! Didn’t you add any water to this?”

“Why would I add water?” she asked, a confused frown forming on her face.

“Because Campbell’s soup is condensed. It’s too salty this way. Adding extra water dilutes it enough that it tastes like soup is supposed to taste, rather than tasting like…like the ocean. Haven’t you ever made soup from a can before?”

“Sure,” she said, crossing her arms across her chest petulantly. “I make Progresso soup all the time, but I never add water to it.”

“Progresso soup isn’t condensed. This is.” He took the stack of crackers, then thrust the plate back towards her. “I’ll just eat these, thanks very much. Now that you’ve tended to me, you can leave me in peace.”

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” she asked.

Was that concern he saw on her face? Surely not. Emma Swan would never be concerned about him. It would be more realistic if she were to try to poison him. Perhaps he should have been more careful eating and drinking what she gave him.

Shaking his head slightly to try to clear those thoughts, he said gruffly, “Yes, I’m sure. It’s not like you really helped anyway.”

This time, he thought he saw a flash of hurt cross her face, before she turned and left the room. Soon he heard the front door close.

He couldn’t have really seen Emma Swan look concerned and hurt, could he? Great. Now he was going to have to add hallucinations to his list of symptoms.

He ate the crackers, then lay down and turned onto his side, tugging the blanket up around his shoulders. He was achy and feverish, but it was the guilt over how he treated his apparently well-meaning neighbor that kept him from falling asleep.

*********

Three days later, after his fever had been broken for twenty-four hours, Killian went back to work. Upon returning home at the end of the day and getting his keys out to unlock his apartment, the door across the hall opened and Emma stepped out.

“Oh, hey Jones. Looks like you recovered, no thanks to me.”

Killian rubbed his finger behind his ear. “I owe you an apology, Swan. I was rude and should have never said what I did.”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s no big deal. I guess I’ll never be a Florence Nightingale.” Turning on her heel, she muttered, “See ya around.”

“Swan…Emma, wait,” he called out, hurrying after her.

She turned around. “What?” she huffed.

“I, uh, I truly am sorry. It was very kind of you to try to help me, but…”

“But what?”

“But why did you do that? I mean, given the fact you hate me…”

“I don’t hate you,” she interrupted.

“Really? You could have fooled me.”

Emma stuck her hands in the back pockets of her jeans and looked down at the floor for several long moments. When she finally looked up, he was shocked to see the vulnerability on her face.

“Look… I’m not good with…people,” she said softly. “And I’m also not good at admitting when I’m wrong.”

She paused and he waited patiently, wondering where she was going with this.

“None of the people I know would be concerned enough to check on me if I called in sick to work. You’ve lived here long enough for me to realize that…that you don’t seem to have anyone like that, either. I never see anyone coming or going on a regular basis - besides the pizza delivery guy, but I don’t think he counts.”

Killian chuckled dryly. “You’re very observant, Swan.” He paused for a moment, debating whether he should open up to her as she was to him. “And you’re also correct,” he added finally. “I moved here from England when I was transferred for my job, and I don’t have any close friends yet.”

She nodded. “I figured it was something like that. The day you moved in, I was…well, to put it bluntly, I was a bitch. And, as I said, I’m not good at apologizing, so I just let things go on being…uncomfortable. When I saw that you were sick the other day, I thought it was my chance to make things better between us, but I screwed that up, too. I just…I guess I wanted to let you know that you didn’t have to be alone while you were suffering - that there was someone who cared. I…I’m sorry I made things worse.”

“You didn’t make things worse,” he assured her. “I appreciate the effort. Actually, if you think about it, it was really quite comical.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“And they do say laughter is the best medicine, so your failed attempts at helping are probably what cured me so quickly.”

Seeing the grin on his face, the corners of her own mouth turned up a bit. “You’re an idiot, Jones.”

He took a step closer. “How about if we start over, Emma? It would be nice to have a friend living across the hall.”

She eyed him, chewing her lip in contemplation. Then she held her hand out to him. “Hi, I’m Emma Swan. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

He reached forward to give her hand a firm shake. “Killian Jones. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Swan.”

She smiled and he was amazed at how it transformed her already lovely face. They stood awkwardly for several moments, until Killian said, “Well, I should let you go. Were you on your way to work?”

“Oh, uh, no. I was just going to get something to eat.”

He rubbed his hand along his jaw, dropping his eyes as he asked, “Would you, um…would you like some company?” Looking back up, he saw her eyes widen and hurried to add, “Just as a friend. As you well know, I don’t have much to eat in my apartment.”

She snorted out a laugh. “You still have more than I do at my place.” Turning away from him once again, she said, “If you’re sure, you’re welcome to join me. I was just gonna go to the diner around the corner. Tonight’s special is grilled cheese and onion rings.”

“Ah, greasy diner food,” he said, beginning to follow her. “You do know if you keep eating that stuff, your arteries are going to be filled with sludge.”

She chose to ignore him as she started down the stairs. “They have the best hot chocolate, too.”

“How much sugar do you add to it?” he grinned.

She glared at him over her shoulder. “No sugar, just cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon in hot chocolate? Sounds…interesting.”

She stopped on the landing and turned to look at him. “If you’re gonna make fun of my preferences for food and drink, you’re uninvited.”

Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he said, “I meant no offense, Swan. Perhaps I’ll even give your…unique concoction a try.”

That meal led to another, and many more. Soon they added regular coffee dates. Gradually, at Killian’s urging, Emma tried and eventually acquired a taste for black coffee, no sugar. Even more gradually, at Emma’s urging, Killian acquired a taste for greasy diner food.

Six weeks after Emma’s attempt to nurse Killian back to health, they went on their first official date. Killian was very happy to discover that Emma Swan did indeed have both a sweet and funny side. They realized they had many things in common, as they talked during their dinner at one of Boston’s most renowned restaurants, then walked along the waterfront.

At the conclusion of the date, they shared a kiss outside her apartment door, which opened both of their eyes to the fact that there was a significant spark of attraction between them. As they continued to date, the spark ignited into a blazing flame. (They made sure to replace the expired condoms in Killian’s medicine cabinet, once it was obvious they were going to put them to use.)

They became each other’s ‘person’ - someone to laugh with, cry with, share everything with, and nurse back to health when the need arose. By the following winter, when the flu made its way through Killian’s office once again, he had his own live-in nurse, whose skills were much improved from the previous year.

By that time, they still had a love/hate relationship…but now, it was minus the hate.

*********

A couple of fun notes:

-Colin was drinking a Dr. Pepper Zero during the Meet & Greet I went to at GalaxyCon in Columbus last year.

-At another con several years ago, Jen admitted she never drank black coffee until Colin got her hooked on it. (No pun intended!)

*********

Thank you for reading.

Tagging:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4 @hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda

@pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426

@julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling @andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones

@zaharadessert @lyssapup27 @undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90 @apiratewhopines

@hollyethecurious @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @caught-in-the-filter @stahlop @veryverynotgoodwrites @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @whimsicallyenchantedrose @earanemith @superchocovian @idristardis @captainswan-kellie @beckettj

[audreyscribes]

PJO ROMAN DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: ⚡ JUPITER/JOVE: KING OF THE GODS, GOD OF (DIURNAL) THUNDER AND THE SKY⚡

Author’s Note: Alright, when I was writing the Greek demigods h/cs, I did keep in mind some of them and their Roman counterparts (i.e. Hera demigod), so when that one anon asked about doing Roman demigods, I got curious and this is my attempt. I do understand why there isn’t a lot but I gave it a shot. It’s not going to be the same for the Greek version and it’s not going to be very detailed since Camp Jupiter and New Rome is more limited than the Greeks, and there are some overlaps between the two, so that’s why. Hope you like it and enjoy! ROMAN DEMIGODS H/CS MASTERLIST LINKS: [TUMBLR] // [AO3]

You’re going to be held in high regard since your godly father is Jupiter Jove himself. The King of the gods, chief deity of the Roman state, Central member of the Archaic Triad, Capitoline Triad; guardian of the state with Juno and Minerva, and the Dii Consentes. You’re respected based on the premise that Jupiter is basically head honcho of the Roman state. However, this brings a lot of pressure as people expect you to be a leader and be just like Jupiter, and be the embodiment of Roman values. 

You’re probably either more composed or learn how to be more composed with your emotions and actions; not only reflecting how the Roman gods are more strict, disciplined, responsible, and calm; but because of your environment. You’re the child of Jupiter so they automatically look to you as a figure of leadership which means they’re always watching you.

In terms of power, between Greek and Roman demigods, I have this idea that Greek demigods have more broad and abstract range while Roman demigods have a more limited yet technical use with more accuracy. So compared to a child of Zeus whose powers have lightning and thunder which means general electrokinesis; as a child of Jupiter your powers are more refined, so you can pull off more tricks and technical control. Hey, that means you can fly more in a barrel roll, breaking the sound barrier while the children of Zeus can just generally fly. 

Another power as a child of Jupiter may have is light based powers; based on one of Jupiter’s epithet as Jupiter Lucetius (Of the Light) where he was esteemed as purveyor of the universe. It makes sense if you consider lightning having the word ‘light’ and lightning does produce ‘light’, so unlike a child of Apollo, your light is more lightning in nature then the rays of the sun.

On a more not so serious note, you find yourself saying “By Jove!” more often than not; not only as a sign of exclamation of surprise or emphasis, but also because Jupiter is also called Jove, so you’re basically required to say something like “my god! or “good god”.  Then again, everyone else says that, aside from “by gods” or some variation of it, so you’re constantly on edge or wincing because they’re basically yelling “Your Dad!”

I have a feeling that the people of Rome see the Gods more as figures while the Greek see the gods as representation of their domains. So you’re going to be seen as either Jupiter himself or the representation of Roman values and rites; which makes you being pushed into the head of politics, management, and the such.

Following above, it feels like a very high school drama; where you’re the Prom Monarchy, the popular kid. I mention about the pressure but it also extends to your social life; there’s going to be unspoken and spoken words of who you should be hanging out with, who not to associate with and whatnot. In terms of your love life, like Jason and Reyna being expected to be together romantically, you also have the same treatment. Either it’s someone of your station or above it, in terms of respect to your parentage, and so forth.

In terms of demigods or legacies, you’re often pushed together with a child of Venus, due to Venus being the ancestor of the Roman people through her son Aeneas who survived the fall of Troy and fled to what is now Italy, and Julius Caesar as well. And when there’s news of a child of Hera/Juno? Oh Jove.

If it’s a child of Hera, all of the senate immediately begins to plan a political debate on how you and the child of Hera get together, or should they send a word of decree or plan a war to seize them. If it’s a child of Juno, I’m so sorry but you’re definitely forced to be with them because the two of you are the living representation and figures for the people of Rome, and the two of you existence together is a sign from the gods.

Despite this all, what Cohort you get into will depend on the reference letters and your honours. Just because you’re a child of Jupiter, doesn’t mean you’re exempt from placement. Much like Jason Grace, if you’re not put into the 1st cohort, expect a ton of criticism. Unlike being a child of Zeus, you have less freedom of existing with every aspect of Jupiter and his associations being placed upon you.

If you’re a legacy of Jupiter, which is more likely then not, you’re not that entirely unexempt from the same problems nor benefits then a direct blood of Jupiter. Maybe less so or not, but the pressure is still there. Of course, with being a legacy, your powers and aspects you have with Jupiter become more individualistic and specific, but nonetheless, the powers that you do have are very strong.  

[letitiaslabyrinth]

TRUST IN HER

warnings: riri gets a lil jealous sometimes. its outta love though. a lil bit of drinking/"clubbing". riri is ready to fight for you. comfort (thats towards the end tho so) paring: Riri x you word count: 720 a/n: i might start only writing short stuff from now on just cause they easier tbh cs ion like writing sumn and it takes me like two weeks to finish not proof read

Riri loved you. You knew she loved you. Half the time, she let jealousy speak for her instead of her words. But, she knew when to let things go and when to act on them. She knows you, you know her. She trusts you, you trust her with your life.

"Where you going?" Riri asks, leaning on the door frame to you guys' bedroom.

You look at her through your vanity mirror, hiding your smile. "Out, baby. Shuri's having a lil get-together later and she invited me."

"So, ion get no invite?"

"No, because then you'll get jealous and fight somebody if they stare at me for too long or some shit."

"There's somethin' wrong with that now?"

You chuckle and finish putting your lashes on. "Yes, Rianna."

"Rianna?" She moves closer. "That's my name now?"

"I'm not callin' you Riri when you tryna play wit me." You put your lipgloss on and look at yourself in the mirror. You look good and you know it.

"You look good, mama," Riri says, coming behind you and kissing your head. "You sure you don't want me coming with you?"

"So you can beat the hell outta some nigga that look at me the wrong way?" You laugh, "Nah, Ion want no drama tonight, but if you promise to behave then you can come with me."

You see her smile. "Aight, I'ma behave."

"Good." She kisses your cheek and goes to the bathroom to get ready.

You take your shot, making sure it was your last because you didn't wanna be drunk, before looking over at Riri. "Baby, I'ma go find Shuri, alright? You good on your own?" 

"I'm good, mama." You smile and kiss her lips before leaving.

Riri watches you walk away and orders herself another drink. She sees wondering eyes but she keeps her cool. She's dressed in an all-white suit, she's not about to mess it up over some bitches who can't keep they eyes to themselves. 

Riri sees you a few minutes later, sitting in a booth with Shuri and a few of your other friends. She doesn't interrupt. She knows you're here for Shuri so she lets you be. That is until she sees a dude sitting next to you. 

He's too close.

Riri drinks slowly, her eyes trained on you. Who does this guy think he is? I mean, Riri can practically hear him from the bar. He's loud. She knows you're overwhelmed but when you need her, you'll tell her. She knows that. You won't speak up for yourself and Shuri and your girlfriends were tipsy. 

Riri sees you looking around and finishes her drink fully. You're looking for her. She gets up and walks over to the booth. She looks at him. "You always this close to women you don't know?" She can see the relief in your face.

"I'm just tryna have a good time. You got an issue with that?" He's trying to be dominant, sitting up in his seat.

It takes all of Riri's self-control to not punch him square in his dumb ass face. "She's my girl. You too close for my liking."

He laughs. "So you insecure?"

You could see that Riri was about to swing so you got up and held her hand in yours. "Let's go, Ri." Riri nods and puts her hand on your back as the two of you walk out.

"You good?" Her voice is soft. She sounds worried.

"He didn't do anything, Ri," You say, "You didn't give him the chance to. Thank you for that."

"I've got you, baby."

Riri drives the two of you home. She saw that you were a little out of it since the party so she set you a bath and brought you chocolates. She washes your hair for you, knowing how it can sometimes help you unwind after a rough day/night.

She puts on your favorite show when you’re out and the two of you wear your favorite matching PJs. Her hands stayed in your hair, scratching your scalp softly.

You fell asleep pretty quickly after that. You felt safe with Riri. She always made you feel safe, you were thankful for that.

"I'm never gonna let anything bad happen to you," She whispers in your hair. "I love you so much."

[call-sign-shark]

Heeey girl how are you?

Can I ask this prompt

“• B’s roommate entering their washroom (while B is in the shower) and yelling over the water “HEY B DO YOU KNOW WHERE MY SHAMPOO IS I CAN’T FIND IT ANYWHERE” “name..” “BECAUSE LIKE I THOUGHT IT WAS HERE BUT I CANT-“ “name im not exactly alone in here…” “huh wha-“ and A popping through the shower curtain with the biggest smile “hey name” “oh OH HI UH i’ll just.. *knocks multiple things over* leave you two.. alone” *knocks more things over* “also i think your shampoo is over there” “ um thanks A um i’ll just-*awkward finger guns*”

With hangman please? 🥹

Hello Sunshine! Fine, thanks for asking, I hope you're doing well too. That's a great choice! Enjoy 🦈💚

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader / Hangman x Reader

Wordcount: 1,1k

Tags: hot shower, smut, fingering, caught by the roommate, finger guns (I'm dying, this is so fun to imagine)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The warm water of the shower was raining down on you. 

You gasped, surprised by waves of pleasure storming in your lower belly.  A thin dusting of steam evaporated from your wet skin, surrounding Jake's body and yours with a dancing mist. Jake kissed your neck one, two, three times. Each time, his kisses became more and more eager: he wanted you, and he wanted you so bad that he felt he could devour you entirely. His teeth sunk into the delicate skin of your shoulder, causing you to quiver with pleasure. You could not help but let a soft moan escape from your parted lips. How did you end up here? You could not tell. All you remembered was that you and Jake were fighting about the last flying training you had. Both of you got shot by Maverick in less than five minutes because Hangman wanted to pull off a solo performance. Quite disagreeing with your point of view,  the cocky pilot maintained that you had been shot because of your disastrous skills at dodging attacks coming from below. Rather than discussing the pros and cons of both of you, screams erupted in the hallway.  You started insulting each other, trying to be the louder one as if what mattered was not the argument but who could make the other shut the hell up. And it happened. In the midst of your quarrel, Jake's lips collapsed against yours in a heated and dazing kiss. Stunned, you had hesitated between pulling him closer or punching him in the face so hard that he would not need a jet to fly... Guess what you ended up choosing. 

"Don't fight it, I know you like that," Jake whispered in your ear, above the water. 

"Screw you."

You snapped, gritting your teeth and turning your head to the other side in a vain attempt of keeping yourself from moaning. You didn't want to give him that pleasure, because at this point you were pretty sure that he would try to bother you by boasting about his sexual performance during your next argument.

"No, no, Y/CS. Screw you." 

He cooed, his fingers caressing your wet slit in slow and maddening movements. You felt a myriad of butterflies in your stomach. And a wildfire of arousal between your legs. Jake chuckled: you looked so miserable. Even though he quite enjoyed seeing your inner struggle because he knew that he was giving you a hell of lustful bliss. The arrogant Lieutenant licked his way up to your mouth along your neck. The sensation of the tip of his tongue wandering on your boiling skin sent shivers down your spine. As he kissed you, his fingers trusted in your greedy slit. You tried to pull your head back but Jake pressed his lips harder against yours. Your whimper got muffled in a languid kiss. Jake could feel you melting, your love juice running down his expert fingers. The cold wall against your back, the hot water falling down on you, Jake's intoxicating perfume, his tongue, skin, fingers... Him. It was far too much to handle. You closed your eyes and gave in to this hurricane of pleasure. A red shade bloomed across your cheeks.

"Now I know how to shut your fucking mouth."  His smirk widened into a carnivorous grin.

You were about to retort something when the door of the bathroom slammed and Payback's voice yelling above the water.

"HEY HANGMAN! DO YOU KNOW WHERE MY CONDITIONER IS?" 

Jake froze. He turned his head towards the door, seeing Reuben's silhouette through the shower curtains. He had begun rummaging through his roommate's stuff to look for his hair conditioner.  You had opened your eyes wide and were staring at Jake as if you were silently hurrying him to find a solution. 

"Payback..." 

"Seriously dude, I can't find it anywhere and it's making me crazy. Oh?" He grabbed a bottle, his dark eyes glittering with hope until he realized it was not what he was looking for,  "Nope." he concluded with disappointment in his voice before throwing the bottle over his shoulder.

Jake gently pulled his fingers off you. You bit your lower lips to hold your moans. One of Jake's powerful hands was placed on your hips while the other pressed on the cold shower wall, next to your face.

"Reuben, I'm..." 

"Because like-" Reuben cut him before he could speak, "I thought it was here but I can't-" 

"Reuben, listen." Hangman's voice roared to get his focus, " I'm not exactly alone here."

At first, you looked at Jake with a bit of surprise in your eyes. You had not expected him to say that. The blonde pilot looked at you and shrugged with an amused smirk on his flat lips.

"Hu, what-" 

You shook your head, your surprise turning into playfulness. You grabbed the shower curtain and pulled it enough to pop your head through it.

"Hey, Payback." 

"FUUUCKKKKKK!"

He screamed, jumping at your sudden appearance. As if it was not enough, Jake's head popped just above yours, displaying the same big stupid smile that was carved on your face. He took a few steps back in surprise as if someone had punched him right in the guts. Payback, slack-jawed, remained still for one solid second, his eyes going from Jake to you several times. His brain had trouble proceeding with what had just happened. Why were you, Y/CS, Jake's worst enemy, in his shower? Were you ...? Oh no, no, he did not want to think about it. 

"OH HI! Aha... Uhh, I'll just..."  Reuben came to his senses but it seemed like he had not figured out what to do yet since he had started knocking multiple things over, "leave you two..alone... Well, I guess? I mean ... Uh - I should go!" He knocked more things over as he was trying to find his way out of the bathroom.  At this moment, he had the impression he was in a gigantic maze. Fortunately enough, his trembling hand managed to grab the door's handle. He opened the door, ready to run away from the bathroom while you called out to him.

"Also I think your conditioner is over here!" 

Payback looked at you with an utterly confused face before shaking his head "Oh the hair conditioner! Aha yes! Thank you Y/CS, I'll just..."  Once again, his brain just stopped working properly. Not knowing how to respond, he tried to crack a smile and made a more than awkward finger-guns gesture at you.

Jake looked at him, baffled by his stupidity: "Oh my god..." He muttered.

Now, all you hoped was that Reuben knew how to keep a secret.

A very surprising secret.

[btssunnyboy]

Weaponary At it’s Finest - Choi San

You father had an incomplete protected titled CS-08. What happened when his dying wish that you find him before the rival agency does? Will you be able to control the android that been sitting dormant, or will you crumble under the pressure and side with your fathers rival?

Word Count - 3.7k

Warning - Talks of death, and war mentions are going to be throughout. This is also an Android AU!

Bts , NCT , ATEEZ , feel free to request any of them!

———————————————————————

You held back stinging tears as you gripped the hospital door. The cool metal against your palm only makes your stomach churn more. You slowly peered into the dimly lit room and slightly whimpered at the sight of your sickly father. His weak smile sends jolts of pain straight to your heart, oh how you wished that smile was as gleaming as it once was. It used to be so bright and warm and now it’s nothing more than a little signal about how his light is slowly going out. Oh god if you could do anything to fix him, you would.

“Hey, I brought your favorite.” You spoke carefully so as to not raise your voice. He liked things soft and quiet the least you could do was be considerate about it, knowing the quiet won’t last long. You took light steps to the side of his bed and gently placed the bag on his table. You stared at the IV in his arm, as you gripped his hand, trying to reassure him that even though things weren’t the best between the two of you, that you were gonna try and help no matter why. The coolness of his palms was similar to that of the doorknob, both covered in the feeling like a blanket of ice was laid upon them, it only reminded you that cold was always linked with lifelessness.

“Thank you, sweetie, but I told you not too.” He croaked out in a scratchy tone. The bone chilling cough leaves his lips the moment after speaking the small sentence. The way his arms wobbled as he tried to pull himself up, only proceeded to break your heart even more. You quickly tried to step forwards and grab his upper arms when a hand halted your actions, even with barely any strength he was going to be stubborn. A small part of you wished that meant he was getting better. Even though you knew he just didn’t want you to feel just how much he body was giving away at the slightest of movements.

“Please let me help.” You sighed as you tried once more to maneuver your hands under his arms. Only to be met with a weak gaze that meant, I got this I don’t need help. If only he understood just how weak and fragile he looked.

“My pride is way too strong to ask for help, besides I’m fine.” He spoke, grabbing into the meal armrest of the bed as painfully pulled himself upright. “Pasta, with my favorite sides.” He spoke and you certainly didn’t miss the smile that ghosted over his lips. That was a rare sight you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Dad, you know I love you, but let’s cut to the chase. Why exactly did you call me here?” You inquired, as you pulled up a nearby chair. The shriek of the legs making you grimace, but nonetheless continued. His face altered in a way that left you feeling unsettled already. He tried his best to lean over to avoid his voice being so loud, he couldn’t risk this information being heard by anyone. What was so top secret?

“Do you remember the project CS-08?” Your once soft expression fell, now replaced by an obvious pissed and almost scared stance. You felt your body perking up, your heart beat started going at rapid speed, you wanted to leave and pretend this was all some sick joke, but by the look in his eyes you knew this was only the truth. You shoved your body backwards as the chair made streaks into the floor, but a hand shot out and stopped your departure. “Sweet pea, please just hear me out,” He coughed out weakly trying to grab at your arm. His rough skin soon met yours in a quick motion. “This project is the only thing that is going to keep you safe!”

“Dad, look! I’ve took care of myself long enough to understand the agency’s game, besides need I remind you about what happened with the other three failed attempts at this project?” You jeered with a cocked eyebrow, eyeing his comfortable movement. These projects may be his life’s work, and you understood his attachment to them, yet here you were throwing his tragic past right back in his face. Your father is a smart man, one of the smartest men in the world to you, and you understood why the agency asked him to do this. It wasn’t his fault that they didn’t disclose their true intentions behind making these androids.

“I was trying to protect my children!” He heavily coughed into the air, small specks of saliva flying from his chapped lips. He gripped his chest in agony as he gasped for breath to speak. “Y-y/n I’m begging you! I... don’t have much time!” He worked as hard as he could to keep you all safe, that’s all he’s ever done. That’s all he’s ever wanted to do

“Why should I? Dad... I’m just, just worried. They shut down the first three because they went haywire and were a major threat to civilian people.” You exclaimed trying to get the main point across, these things didn’t need another sequel being made. These things were extremely deadly and if they malfunctioned destruction was sure to follow. As you mentioned before, this was the reason why the whole project was scrapped. If the government found out that your father was trying to reopen without their permission, the price could cost you your life.

“I know the agency is still on my tail for letting KHJ-04 escape, but don’t forget they’ll be using you as leverage.” He stated, heaving a quick breath for his lungs. “The people I owe money to fund this new project, will be back and you need high end protection.”

“Oh my god, are you even listening to me! I don’t need some type of cold metal that could malfunction and kill me any second!” You seethed out through gritted teeth. You never liked him working with something that could be programmed with so much intelligence that they could easily overthrow mankind. The moment one of those re-hardwired itself it could do even more extraordinary things. “Besides I could never finish those codes, and date. I never understood them.”

He rubbed a hand over his face in a tired motion. A shaky sigh passed through his lips as he looked between the time and you. “All of those codes for everything he will need are completely finished. All you need to do is take this hard drive and plug it up to the USB port on the base of CS-08’s neck. Y/n, please they turned my last three creations into monsters. I can't let that happen again.”

“Dad, I just can't! And did you one second think that maybe just making another one of these things wasn’t a good idea!” You whispered out as you stared at the sleek black of the hard drive, your reflection was seen momentarily on its surface. You couldn’t do this, not after everything that you’ve gone through. You lost your sister and mother to those things and now you’re gonna lose the only other person you have left. You felt the tears sting your eyes as you spoke, “Dad, do you understand we lost our family because the agency wasn’t honest, and even if I did want to help you’ve never told me where you kept it.”

“The old, abandoned trailer park near your graffiti wall. It’s on the outskirts of town, no one will ever know, but do not go before my funeral they’ll be expecting it.” He breathed out as he let himself fall back on his bed completely. He knew he didn’t have much time, he wanted everything off his chest this minute. “I never should have continued it I know and not only am I paying for that mistake, but so are you. They took our family away because they decided too many people knew about the hardware to these creations. Once they find out you’re alive they’re gonna come after you.”

“Dad -“ You tried to interject. A pleasing expression laying over your face. You didn’t know anything about these things, your sister was the tech wiz that always helped him. The thought of being in the same with it shook you to your core.

“Let me finish, but if I can have any piece of mind, you’ll take CS and let him guard you with his life.” He pleaded with his eyes begging to shed the tears that gathered at his water line. “But remember he’s here to help, his intentions may not seem like it, but he’s equipped with a special database that recognizes and makes everyone either an ally or an enemy. All you have to do is look in his eyes.”

You nodded, you heard in a quick motion, you opened your mouth to speak right before harsh footsteps were pounding along the hallways outside. Screams of terror and agony filled your ears to the brim. Your body shook with terror as you heard them getting closer and closer. He eyed the small hospital closet at the corner of the room. He nodded his head as he soon saw shadows appear underneath the crack in the door. His hands enclosed the hard drive in yours, and he ushered you towards closer.

You lightly ran towards the closet, your flight response kicking in as you stepped into it. You pulled the doors together as close as you could, but a small crack down the middle was still left. You covered your mouth to silence your breathing as three large men surrounded your father’s bed. Their black attire was a great contrast to the white room. They walked with an aura that seemed like it was draining anything that came close. As they walked closer to your father you could only assume that his life was next to be drained.

“Now Mr. L/n, we’ve shown our distaste for you for the past three years! We’ve donated money to fuel your little fantasy as well and now look at you, on your deathbed, and not a single amount of money has been paid back.” One spoke as he black boots made small scuffs on the floor. His disgust was evident in the way he stated with a deadly glare at the man in the bed. He gave a sinister smile as he looked towards one of his companions. He eyed the silver briefcase, and watched with hawk eyes as the syringe was revealed. “All you had to do was pay up, but now we’re gonna get our revenge. With you out of the way we’ll have more access to the information regarding CS-08 and the most important person who’s gonna lead us straight too or, your daughter Y/n L/n.” Another man spoke out as he gripped your father's chin with such force it looked like his head was about to spin off. His knuckles turned sheer white from the power of his firm grip.

Your father’s breath became ragged as he fought with all his strength against those who were holding his arms down. The squeaky hospital bed was rocking back and forth with such speed it was terrifying. He was not giving up without a fight, but three against one made the odds not in his favor. The needle pierced his skin as it injected some unknown liquid into his veins. The clumps of white foam began building up and slid from his open mouth as his body began to shake violently. Their proud expression stayed intact as they finished their work and quickly left the scene.

“I know you can still hear me, Mr.L/n, and I want you to know that the moment we find your daughter you’re gonna wish you never betrayed us.”

You felt your body go paralyzed as you stared at the lifeless body, the cold, dead body. Your shaky hands pushed open the closet door and you felt your body fall forwards. Your numb legs do not allow much movement. You dragged your body towards the door and booked it out. Not caring about who got in the way, because you knew you needed to get out of there. Everything in you wanted it to end right here, but it seemed as if your fate had already been determined. But now your mind is made up, your father needs avenged.

It’s been three months. Three long and completely dreadful months, full of paranoia. Ever since that day your body has remained on high alert, every creak of the floorboards and every time the house settled down you felt your body go into a shock like state. You were so scared that those men knew your whereabouts, so you never stepped foot near the graveyard. It’s been three months since that god awful day and three months since you almost dismantled the flash drive.

Simply staring at the sleek, black coating made memories play on repeat in your mind. Tearing up every single time you caught your reflection staring back at you. You sighed heavily through your nose, looking at your stretched out reflection. You knew that day you should have done something, god if you weren’t such a coward maybe your father would be alive right now. You felt your body go stiff, at the slightest creak of the floorboards. The small shriek was almost inaudible, but you caught it. The shriek was almost an eerie identical copy of the sounds you heard that dreadful day.

The closer those sounds got the more your mind began to remind you of how you stayed hidden away in the claustrophobic closet. Your body went into a fight or flight mode, but sadly this time your body froze. Stuck in place as your mind becomes a jumbled up mess of horrendous scenarios about what could happen to you. Either they take their time dragging out their inhumane torture, or they see the stupid flash drive right off the bat and put one deadly bullet straight through your head and call it a night.

“Find her!” A husky voice ordered, that moment hordes of footsteps were pounding through the house. The slamming of doors against the wall, still didn’t trigger your body to even flinch. You were completely frozen in place, the golden door knob slowly turned until it stuck. Fuck, they’ve found you.

“Boss! I got her, she’s in here!” The voice held a proud gloat’ to it, as if fucking finding you was more precious then finding one of the seven wonders. Hollers of gratitude were announced as you heard then put all their force into kicking the door in. One, the wood barely budged, two the wood around the doorknob was splitting, exposing light from the hallway. Your body jolted towards the window, — not before grabbing the flash drive and your keys — as your trembling hands tried to handle the lock.

The mechanism seemed stuck, and forcing it sideways was only creating deep creases within your palms. Three, the screws on the side were popping out. One more kick, and you’re a goner. You quickly wrapped your hand up in a shirt, with every ounce of energy you could muster you slammed your fist into the glass and nothing. Time was running out, and you pounded your first against the glass repeatedly. Cracks , just stupid fuckinh cracks were forming. With one last effort you stood back and planted your boot heavily into the middle frame.

Shards of glass littered your floor and you kicked out the screen just as the wooden door finally caved in. You hissed in pain as the shards of glass scraped up your legs. You hurled your body from the window and only fell a few inches to the hard ground below. You felt the ache in your legs and the burning sensation that was taking your breathing hostage. You jumped into the driver's seat and started the ignition quickly.

Just as the hail of bullets pierced through your back windows and through your front. You dodged left and right as you stepped on it. Flooring the gas in a desperate action to get the hell out of there. “All this over a damn robot, that’s probably too old to even function at this moment.” You huffed towards yourself, slamming your hands against the steering wheel. You stared at the bland scenery, trying to take your time to get to the old, abandoned buildings. Every detour you could’ve taken made the normally ten minutes trip into thirty. Being followed was the last thing you wanted and you needed to take every measure to make sure you weren’t.

After what felt like years, you finally pulled your beaten up car into the place that you held dear to you. Slamming the car door you jogged towards the colorful wall. The overly sketched flower adorned the dirt smudged concrete walls. The smile slowly coming to your face as memories from your past almost played themselves through the artwork. Your father begged you to follow your art career. He would watch as you’d paint everything with such delicacy, as if a small mistake of your paint brush would send the canvas crumbling to the ground. But he knew you just wanted it to be perfect, perfect like him as you used to say.

With a quick look around the building you decided it was finally safe to enter. A small door at the back of the building of padlocked shut, a key locked was placed on the heavy duty chain. A sad smile graced your lips as you fiddled with the old key that hung off the chain your father gave you. He was always so adamant that you wore it, and you never knew why until now. Unclamping the chain you hurriedly let yourself in. The sight before you was odd, the outside of the building was worn down, covered in overgrown moss that was about to take it over, but inside everything was so clean it almost sparkled, and it was truly an unnerving sight.

Did the agency already know about his whereabouts? Did they already clean every ounce of your fathers fingertips off this project? All those questions left your mind as you saw it laying down on the operating table, and with shaky hands you grabbed the base of his skull and lifted him up. Insetting the usb and taking a couple steps back. Fear flowing through your veins as you watched his body twitch. His fingertips ever so slightly moved and his eyelids began to flutter. For a thing that was made from metal he sure was life-like, a little too life-like. A small part of you could see why people held a grudge against these things.

Before you could even blink the humanoid figure shot straight up. His deadly gaze locked eyes with you, and he didn’t look happy. You could almost see the gear turning in his head as if deciding whether or not you were worthy of his trust or not.

His hard gaze never changed as he spoke with a tone that was cold as ice, “I’ve been programmed to recognize you as y/n l/n, I’m here to protect you.”

“You recognize me?” The question hung in the air as he straightened his posture. His cold eyes staring back into yours. It felt like an entirely before he finally spoke again.

“I am programmed to recognize anyone my creator has entered into my database. My creator as you listed under Y/n L/n second eldest of the l/n family. During any acts of violence I am required to fight with my life. From this day forward I am your protector.”

Before he could finish his sentence you watch as his head shot towards the entrance of the building. You didn’t hear anything, but by the looks of him he did. His stance was tough as he gripped your arm and pulled you behind him, his cold hands brought you back to reality. With a sharp turn he ushered you towards the door on the opposite side of the room. What was he freaking out about?

“My systems have picked up on at least four other individuals making their way towards this room. We need to leave.”

“But I —“

“Your father said you were quiet chatting as he put it, but right now there is no time for questions. My main objective is getting you out of here. Do you trust me?” He questioned as he kept his attention towards the door. Now you could hear hushed voices that seemed to surround you from all angles. Shit, they’ve found you, but how this place has been run down for years.

“I’ll repeat it again, do you trust me? I was programmed to never proceed with verbal confrontation.”

With shaky hands you gripped his arm once more, they were getting closer you could fill it in your gut. You never wanted to be a part of this. That night you should’ve smashed that hard drive into a million pieces, and maybe you wouldn’t be on the run from the same people that killed your father. But your decision was finally, you pulled in the hard drive and activated the android known as CS-08. There was no turning back now, as you could only imagine the dreadful things the people behind that door would do to you in order for you to give up CS-08.

“I trust you, now get us out of here!” Your panicked voice filled his head as he rushed behind you towards the door. His hand never left your back as he kept an eye out. His mission now was to keep you alive for as long as he could, and nothing is going to get in the way of that.

“As you wish.” And with that you two were off and you could only pray this was the right decision to make. But you knew only time would answer the many questions that you have. Like why was he so different from your father's other projects, why was he programmed to protect you of all people? And why did the agency need him so badly?

[stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland]

Send proof please thank you // her story is gone now and I didn’t take screen shots so maybe someone can post them, but L posted on her story “if you want we can watch the moon together” and then a pic of two people watching the moon. Then Cs recent insta post she has a shirt with the sun setting on it, which she zoomed in on, and shortly after (in the same hour) L posted a pic of the sunset (which is up on her story still I think)

🌙🌞

[midnight-mourning]

1000 kudos/100 Follower Special!

wow so um, there’s a LOT of you now

👀👀👀

WHERE DID Y'ALL EVEN COME FROM LIKE?? HI!! 👋👋👋

AND ALSO

THIS???? CRAZY, incredibly appreciated <3 but also wild

anyway, I think that deserves celebrating! So, here’s a couple ideas I came up with for y’all to vote on, with the option of sharing other ideas in the comments, I’ll do the top two and save the others for the next milestone :)

If the 'other' option gets the most/second most votes, I'll do another poll with ideas that people suggested and we'll go from there. You can scroll down and click the read more if you'd like more info on each option! SO, having said all that:

Letting you guys make the call with this one! I have stuff prepped for all of it, just a matter of people voting since this is ME showing my appreciation to YOU. And again, next milestone will have the opportunity for the other choices :)

Also, this isn't just for followers/the moots either! Anyone is welcome to vote and participate if they'd like to 💙💙

Please also feel free to ask questions in the comments if that helps you with voting! Can't wait to see what you guys pick :D

I will expand on each option here for clarity in your decision making:

CS one-shot: I will write a one-shot (3,000-5,000 words prob) based in the CS universe. It will be canon to the fic but will never be mentioned/referenced in the fic itself so stand alone to read. It may be a future scene, may be based somewhere in the current timeline. Open to ideas on the POV and such (though I have some floating around that I can do ;))

Q&A/Ask the Cast: a classic, I know my ask box is open but here's also a clear chance to ask something that you've been really curious about! I won't share spoilers for the story, but everything else is on the table, including stuff about me, writing etc. Just no super personal questions is all! Additionally, you can ask the cast questions and answers will be in character, perhaps with a little doodle as well ^-^

Finished refs/busts for the cast of CS: I'll post the finished versions of the rough sketches I shared a few months ago, along with the remainder of the cast! This includes the rest of the engineering team, the division heads, the glamrocks, and the DCA! I also will include little blurbs for all the characters as well. This will probably happen eventually anyway BUT if you want them sooner rather than later this is you're chance if you're curious :)

Spooky Season one-shot: something halloween-related that again I'm open to ideas for! Would also be about 3,000-5,000 words in length, could be related to CS or not

Writing Requests: similar to the requests I did for reveal day, same rules apply (no nsfw, suggestive is fine, be specific if you want specific) but a little longer in length (500-1000 words)

Doodle requests: I provide you with a little drawing I made with tender love and care (would be lined, colored, shaded, etc.)

A peek into the drafts: I do in fact have a couple other fic ideas floating around in my brain that I simply haven't started so that I don't get bogged down/focus on CS. I would share those and a little bit of concept art

Other: explained above

[lindszeppelin]

Now that shippers graced us with their presence can they answer me this?: How come when the L&S article came out saying she doesn't take acting seriously, the SAME TIME she is "caught" coming from an audition AND a dm blind is sent in she will be in KO3. She even followed Cailee Spaeny, who is in the movie, but then unfollowed her once she didn't follow her back lol. And now Austin was perfectly private in NYC UNTIL she appeared. Now all of a sudden they are papped at an event. Let me remind people who ride do hard for this girl: the general public doesn't give af about her, her hype (if you can even call it that) is manufactured. She is papped a hell of a lot more than most A listers, which is only explainable with her staging these shots. Every single time Austin has a premiere, she has to insert herself in it: MOTA premiere - the SAME DAY an article comes out of her parents being concerned for her. Dune 2 - she says she wants to keep her relationship sacred - then don't call the paps girl. Bikeriders - people article + pap walk ensuring they are in love. Now casting news for CS and she just has to go with Austin to a play when the director is also in attendance. One time is a coincidence, two times could still be just chance, but three times is a fucking pattern my dears. Now sod off back to your side and imagine yourselves being Kaia dating him cause that's why you support her, not cause she's such a brilliant auteur or human.

Oh gorgeous anon, how I love you so <3