#lots of implied uhh

[morgana-ren]

Just had the most fucked up thought of all time:

Ascended Vampire Lord Astarion with a beloved consort that was finally able to escape his grasp. After years, she's finally able to secret herself away and slip her chains, running from him and going into hiding so that he can never drag her back again.

It's no secret that he's gone mad, driven to the brink by his obsession with her in her absence. He refuses to simply take another lover or find a willing wife, spending untold resources and wealth trying to find her and coax her back, but she somehow stays hidden from him, somehow just out of his reach--

--However, he refuses to let her go.

Instead, he becomes slightly unhinged.

Astarion barters with a devil once again, only this time, it's for possession of a succubus. A very particular succubus who knows of his wayward little lover, and just so happens to have her form tucked away in her repertoire thanks to their earlier adventures.

He commands Haarlep to take her image each and every time he fucks her. It's the only way he'll sleep with anyone else-- the only way he'll find release while she is gone.

And Tav knows every time he's ravaging her because she can feel it. Feel his hands ghost across her body, squeezing the rounds of her neck until she can't breathe, scratching down her spine until she bleeds-- she feels all of it through this succubus' infernal connection. She is forced to acknowledge his power over her— his utter obsession with her— day in and day out, being violated by him over and over again even as she's finally escaped him.

Each time he takes the succubus, he is reminding her what he's done to her— what he'll do to her again when he gets his hands on her. His fucked up little way of saying "I'm thinking about you, darling" as he violates her body and mind, and no matter what she does, she cannot escape it. A ticking clock counting down the hours until he can touch her again.

She cannot hide forever.

It's only a matter of time, and every time she feels the phantom warmth flood between her thighs, or the tightness in her throat that leaves her with an aching jaw, or the sharp, miserable pain in her backside that has her hobbling for days, she knows he's thinking about her once more.

[artisticxlly]

"Relapse"

Hello to all the Hiruhoshi enthusiasts once again :P

[randomnameless]

tbh, I stopped caring about houses that much when I found out that it's an otome/dating sim game with srpg gameplay sprinkled on top. In other FE games, you either gather supports by pair ups or by having units standing against one another. And mechanics like cooking in Fates were done to get some more stat boosts. And even if the avatarization of the game started with New Mystery, Robin and Corrin feel more like customizable characters than an avatar for the player.

In houses, Byleth is like every typical dating sim protag, that does not speak and the few times they do is by having the player choose options that may raise heart points with a character or lower them, you have to find lost items and when you give them back you gain heart points, you have to give them gifts to gain heart points and cooking now doesn't give you any beneficts in battle and only works for, you've guessed it, getting heart points. And let's not kid ourselves, tea time is like the "dates" in otome games, in which you can spam gifts till you raise the affection to the max. The only thing that distincts those points from the otome ones, is that those are necessary for proficency and for unit classes.

Heck, we even have a ring to give to the chosen blorbo in order to get a special custom made cutscene, when in pasts games getting an S support gave you a broken unit to deploy and a little blurb of text during the credits. And of course, calendar/day systems are also common in these tipes of games too.

People complained about awakening and fates for turning the franchise into a dating sim, but 3Houses is literally one in and of itself, and yet is praised as peack FE experience and as peack srpg.

(I could also argue that is because of this otome nature why the characters are "tell don't show" with their given trauma, unlike in pasts games when it was "show don't tell" (Nino, Reison, Camilla, Leif, Soren...))

Well,

When you put it like that, it becomes obvious that the other games (FEH, Engage) mentionning Fodlan are stuck on the uwu monastery part of the part 1 and not the, y'know, events happening that will lead to part 2 because as you said, the SRPG aspect is just "sprinkled on top" lol

However, the "pair up your units and build their relationships!" has been a non gameplay mechanics for decades now (FE4's was a gameplay mechanic, it had no support convos - FE6 added the support convos and gave a small gameplay boost but it didn't commit and we had no endings, FE7/8 had endings, FE9 had convos but FE10 removed them and yet had endings depending on the pairs, etc etc) even without avatars.

Then we entered the avatar era and if it added the "my waifu and my bae" shenanigans, FE13/14 were still more centered on the story aspect that on the "dating sim" aspect, as in, even if you could raise affinity with a character by doing X or Y, it wasn't really coded in a minigame - came FE16 which you analysed perfectly : tea time, gifts, eating, S-support CG, etc etc.

That being said, FE is a RPG, meaning it has characters : you play FE for the solid gameplay but you also build characters, and imo the best way to develop and write characters is to interconnect them with other characters, and/or with the plot/lore.

Sure, Arden functions as a wall/tank. But through the 5 lines he has, you learn that he is part of a group of knights, has friends who often tease him but is relied upon by those people and takes pride in that, he'd also like to find a wife someday and has self-esteem issues.

Is he as developped as, say, Xillia's Alvin? Hell no! But they're characters from two different genres, Arden has those 5 lines that puts him above any "generic" armor.

(I find it interesting how UO and in a way, FE11, gives you the opportunity to play with generics instead of playing with named characters, in UO generics will turn out to be better since you can change their growths, but they're generics. Do you want the RPG of the Tactics/Strategy aspect?)

So, I'd say that support conversations are important, I love Saias and Ralf to bits, but I'm sure I'd love them more if they had more lines. And since support through battle can be a chore (hello FE GBA and trying to get Bartre and Karla's supports when she joins 2 chapters before the end!), I initially welcome any way to grind those supports faster lol.

However, it can quickly spiral in, well, the otome mechanics we have in FE16 - if you want to build support then why not have an entire mini-game for that, and meals and chorals and whatever else?

It's all about finding balance between developping your characters without turning your game in a dating sim or what I'd call "playing the sims and pairing those dolls with those other dolls you like".

Still, let's not kid ourselves, nowadays the "dating sim" aspect of the series is, while decried by some, very popular - and FE is first and foremost, a series that has to sell.

3H is not peak SRPG not peak gaming experience or even in FE gameplay that'd be FE5 but I can't ignore the fact that its dating sim aspects might be part of the reason why it's still very popular.

[mad-hunts]

oh, by the way, it's random headcanon time because i thought y'all should know this: barton's doll motif does, in fact, go deeper than his 'doll-making.' because although his hair isn't always this way, you can always sort of tell when barton is really spiraling, because he will just stop brushing his hair to let it become matted and resemble a ' doll's ' hair more closely. and as for what that looks like, think the ringlets that seem to resemble a doll's that has yarn for hair that i used in my pinned post, except they're blonde. so yeahhh. though, of course, there's nothing really wrong with that. however, comma, did i also mention that he is SO wack that he stitched someone else's arm onto himself and now uses it as his own like one of his ' doll-like ' creations?

and as you guys can probably already tell, there are definitely some things wrong with that 💀 i mean barton just cannot go even one day without causing some sort of horrific upset, am i right, guys? JSJSJ / j NAH i'm kidding, i'm kidding (... actually, i might not be this time. idk LMAO ). but anyhowww, i'll tell y'all more about that later because it will probably be a long post due to the nature of how that came to be, but how are we feeling about barton now with this information? like has your opinion of him changed or is it pretty much the same? i am just genuinely curious so feel free to leave a comment below to tell me.... because i know it is gross to think about and also terrifying, but barton is SEVERELY demented so he doesn't think of it that way personally

[cheetahsprints]

(If you don't like mentions of a slash ship featuring certain anthro hedgehogs just scroll past!!!! Quickly!!!)

TL;DR (You can skip this blurb if you want the full story)

I went from being like neutrally aware of the Sonic franchise characters' existence to totally obsessed practically overnight with Shadow and Sonadow. Went full speed ahead brainrot on them because of a freaking dream where cartoon (unspecified) Sonic & co accidentally entered the dimension of live action Sonic. Shenanigans ensued, most notably a dreambrain-hatched live action Shadow fighting his cartoon version because of his attitude toward Sonic & co.

(End of TL;DR)

[Text wall below for details]

A few nights ago I had a random as hell dream about Sonic the hedgehog and I am now here I have watched freaking Sonic Prime on Netflix because the mental images wouldn't leave me alone so I treated it like a weird message from the universe e send Help

My only previous interactions with sonic stuff was some person I followed on twitter for something else posting art of it (mega long time ago), watching the sonic live action movies why I have no idea (super long time ago), and that joke game that went surprisingly hard The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog which I completed even though the minigames to progress got hard AF for me (pretty long time ago) and like even before all that I knew of Sonic from ads, memes, and various posts on social medias. But I didn't fully engage with it.

Side note: the twitter posting was mostly sonadow and I would look it over like uh-huh ok the vibes check out and just keep scrolling like lsdfkjdskl but that is pretty much the main reason I knew Sonic/Shadow existed but at the time I didn't actively seek it out or try to learn more.

Onward...

My brain is so so so weird and the dream was somewhat vivid like watching a movie omg where the live action sonic and pals met the cartoon versions of the characters?? even though I never watched any of the cartoons before??? as such it wasn't a specific series, I just knew it in the dream they were from a generalized cartoon universe

Specifically it was Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles in the movie group, while the cartoon group had Amy and Rouge instead of the other two alongside Sonic, who I only even really knew about because of the April Fool's game. And Shadow was also there in both groups because why not I guess and they (the Shadows) fought each other because the movie one thought the cartoon one was a jerk lmao idk? Yeah my subconscious decided it couldn't wait for Sonic 3 and made up its own version of movie Shadow.

Early in the dream there was also a little kid clone of Sonic who belonged with the cartoon group. There were some cute interactions but in nonsensical dream fashion that character just disappeared later like he was never there lol

…There was some plot about the cartoon group needing to get back to their dimension because Sonic accidentally got them blasted into the movie one somehow... after watching Sonic Prime I'm like my dream was so FREAKISHLY similar to that show's plot, but I SWEAR I knew nothing about the premise of SP before the dream. Although, in the dream they were like... multidimensional travellers doing hero stuff and had met other variants before, just this time it wasn't intentional and it messed something up.

Uh getting off track... (which the dream itself did a lot tbf)

Anyway, what I remember is the movie dimension made the cartoon group look in the more realistic style so at first Shadow thought the actual movie group were the ones from his dimension (Shadow & Amy got separated from Sonic & Rouge) and was rude to them because he was so ticked off blaming Sonic for being a dumbass and yelling at Tails for not preventing whatever happened or something, so actual movie Shadow appeared like. don't talk to my friends that way asshole and beat the absolute shit out of him. There was an explanation Tails gave that the movie Shadow was more powerful for some reason I don't remember and Amy told cartoon Shadow to stop trying to beat him. But yeah bro was so pissed movie Sonic had to step in and physically stop him because he wouldn't listen to and/or overpowered anyone else. He reminded Shadow that the other Shadow was still him, in a sense.

Cartoon Sonic and Rouge appeared and Sonic started bickering with cartoon Shadow. but the movie versions were best friends so they were watching them like wtf is wrong with y'all. Movie Shadow got fed up quickly and punched cartoon Shadow again and stood protectively in front of both Sonic versions bristling and wouldn't take his eyes off his counterpart. Cartoon Shadow was so goddamn confused by Shadow's protectiveness and asked how Sonic had made movie Shadow his loyal bodyguard (derogatory) Amy and Rouge like explained the backstory to the movie crew, which is fuzzy to me but it was something along the lines of, Shadow had been brainwashed to rival Sonic, tricked to think that Sonic was evil (unbeknownst to that Sonic who in his pov had this random edgy hedgehog start attacking him out of nowhere during a mission) and they had a lot of intense fighting before Shadow found out the truth. But the two of them never quite got over the misunderstanding. Listen I didn't know Shadow's backstory, literally none of it, but I have read the wiki since ok

Meanwhile movie Shadow, in the dream, was made and raised in a lab and similarly believed he was made as Sonic's rival/equal. Behind the scenes some government thing or whatever were afraid of Sonic's power and wanted a backup plan. But some evil guy stole and unleashed Shadow. At first it was basically just a duel, Shadow admired Sonic, but the evil guy had put a chip in his head that when activated made him try to kill Sonic. Eventually he was subdued and the chip deactivated- and despite everything Sonic insisted Shadow come with him to his home and the rest was history. This unfolded in like flashback style.

There was a funny part where Shadow questioned Sonic's home like "What kind of base of operations is this?" In a very unimpressed tone. Sonic said sarcastically "Oh, sorry if you were expecting my own Fortress of Solitude." And I guess Shadow was allowed to watch tv because he got the reference and shot back "Does that make me Lois Lane?" Didn't make a whole lot of sense sdlfkjds but movie Shadow delivered this line very confidently and flirtatious and just walked away leaving Sonic shocked LOL

And then later Shadow complained that the government people would always rewind and loop the villainy parts and he never got to see if Lois and Clark kissed (It's been too long since I watched any Superman movies so I couldn't tell you if this makes sense) and Knuckles teased him for being a romantic, and then the whole team binge watched every Superman movie.

In the "present" at some point movie Sonic and Shadow pulled their alternate versions aside and like told them off for being mean to each other lmao cartoon Sonic was kinda like uwu I didn't know Shadow had feelings he's like a lone wolf and like was surprised by his counterpart's vehemence. Movie Sonic told cartoon Sonic that Shadow can be a great friend if you give him a chance. I don't remember the Shadowses convo much but it was a lot more chill despite the fighting before (though still prickly) because Shadow's reasons were more valid and it was more of a pep talk from movie Shadow that if he opened up more it might give the others around him more opportunity to know and accept him.

I remember there was this one specific heavy emotional line in the dream that stuck with me when I woke up said by cartoon Shadow about Sonic, "He's my best friend but I'm obviously not his" DFKLJDSKJ

Additional small detail that movie Sonic and Shadow had known each other for over 2 years during dream events. And they were quite close and in sync. But still bantery

My brain basically conjured a LITERAL FANFICTION in my sleep and I have been thinking about it a lot What's hilarious is I knew next to fuck all about these characters my brain pulled the plot points of this dream out of its ass

Typed out, this dream probably sounds a lot longer than it was... the "scenes" just felt oddly detailed for how mashed together and quick passing they were.

But yeah I kept thinking about the dream and like daydreaming more scenes and it somehow turned even more into Sonadow (like, I imagined Cartoon Sonic & Shadow finding out in a very abrupt way that the movie versions were an item. <- to my delight I did find a fic with a premise very similar to this just not movie universe related. Also played with the idea of Sonic and/or Shadow accidentally kissing the wrong counterpart in their excitement at being reunited which Awakened Some Things for the receiver of the unexpected passion😂 )

The dream kinda acted as a base that inspired daydreams to spiral out from my brain without permission but I just... mentally jumped into it because ships sometimes grab you like that.

And Sonic Prime made my sprouting interest worse, basically fuel to the fire, so now I am obsessed with them... like what a fucking way to get into a ship

[hum--hallelujah]

built this life and now it's mine - Fab Four fluff + jetpoison* (platonic or romantic, up to interpretation) (for @caffeineecold)

-

Kobra got the jukebox in the corner working two days ago and Jet's just returned from a run that nearly killed him but also scored them a crate of real booze — not the shitty moonshine brewed in the Zones that everyone pretends they like even though it tastes like the inside of the boot that gave bootlegging its name, real stuff.

Party's already sloppy drunk, sitting at the counter, and Jet doesn't usually let himself get this tipsy. Kobra and Ghoul sit in the corner next to the jukebox, picking out tunes and passing back and forth a bottle of champagne, of all things. For being a sandpup, Ghoul has expensive tastes.

Something bass-heavy is playing when Party slips from the stool and nearly topples over. Jet's reflexes are sluggish, but he manages to slide from his own seat and catch Poison. Party's pissed at him for nearly dying, again, and Jet expects a shove and dark look, but that's not what he gets. Instead, Poison leans into him, fitting them so naturally together that it's almost frightening.

"Y'okay?" Jet asks quietly into Party's hair.

"Dance with me, Star?"

Jet blinks, shocked. This is the last thing he expected. But he's just drunk enough, inhibitions just low enough, and he always crumbles when Pois calls him Star. Nobody else really ever does. "Sure," he finds himself saying, and Pois curls even more against him, their hands finding their places without even looking. It's too easy to sway back and forth together, in some facsimile of dance that's really just more an excuse for the comfort of touch that they both need, to the lilting gravelly guitars playing through the jukebox speakers.

The track skips and Kobra thumps the side of the box to get it playing again, a rising guitar interlude without words. Poison's head is nested against Jet's jaw, red hair filling his entire field of vision. On an impulse he doesn't resist for once, probably due to how tipsy he is, he presses his lips to Poison's temple.

"I'm sorry, sunshine," he whispers. "Fuck, Poison, I love you. Not the way... you want me to, probably, but I do. I love you so much." His eye is wide and staring, a little bit desperate. There's no other way he can say it.

"Don't leave me," mumbles Poison softly into the skin of his neck. The song is different now, something softer. "My Star..."

Jet closes his eye. "I'm not trying to," he says.

Poison sniffs, still swaying to the new tempo of this song. "Try harder."

Pois probably won't remember this in the morning. Kobra and Ghoul will give them weird looks, like they've completely lost it, and Jet will know why. Heck, they're giving them weird looks now, over the top of a champagne bottle and between smirking giggling asides to each otherm But Party is too drunk to retain much. They won't ever talk about it, except maybe when it comes up in an argument they force everyone to hear. You said you wouldn't leave me, you said you love me. I don't care how it is I just want you to love me whatever way you can.

The future is unfolding in front of them in so many ways. But right now it's just two friends, irresponsibly drunk and folded into each other.

[harukyuu2]

hello!! May I request a fic about wind breaker (including Togame jo) scenario when they "accidentally" walk in on you while you're changing? Thank you!!!!!!!!

-‘๑’-⇢ ˗ˏˋ Woah! Sorryyy! - wbk boys seeing you change:࿐ྂ-‘๑’- !! - Haruka, Suo, Togame and Endo !! (Endo's part is pretty suggestive, implied fem!reader in some cases, small revision only :p)

"Hey, where do you have your... FUCK, DAMN—" ♡ Boy smashed your door closed without even saying sorry, too much embarassment— he cant handle it! You didnt even notice him until he smashed the door, it was like a split second interaction! ♡ You never saw him SOOO red, like— he always blushes! But today?? You can almost see smoke coming out of his head, his red has the saturation on a 100% ♡ His brain isnt working, he cant even form a sentence to you or even look you in the eyes, he feels like he's gonna explode if he does. ♡ If he didnt run out of your house by now, you can reassure him its fine, but youre gonna get embarassed mumbles until he's actually able to think without that image in his head. ♡ At the end of the day, with a looot and i mean A LOT of reassureance and patience for his blush to go down, you'll get your usual nervous boyfriend again, maybe even an apology! ♡ Still, that image of you stayed in his head for more time than necessary— and he probably felt guilty, but also youre too pretty in his eyes! He isnt sure how he got you still.

"...You know im— im sorry or whatever for...fuck, you know! not knocking or somethin'...whatever, damn—"

"Sweetie, are you ready to left alrea— Oh. Sorry!" ♡ He's actually SO CALM, he stands like "🧍‍♂️" checking on you a quick second before leaving politely, you cant even hear him walking, the only sound in the room is his apology AND THATS IT. ♡ Tbh, its surprising you catched him in a situation like that. Suo, as a boyfriend, know everything you need or what youre doing, or what youre about to do...His mind is literally connected to yours— so him thinking you were ready and it was wrong? First time you caught him out of guard. ♡ He stares at you. More than he usually does. You could catch him staring at you and he wouldnt look away! His eyes are literally glued to you (They were already, but now more than always) ♡ Now, Suo can be mature— like reaally mature, but still he's a teenager! So he feels a little embarassed, he's just good at hidding it. Not lying, the image doesnt leave his mind and he feels really inmature for it! ♡ He doesnt know how to bring the topic without making you uncomfortable, but he needs to. So, at night, when youre about to fall asleep, pretty dozed off from reality, he finally turns to cup your cheek and sweetly murmurs— whether you remember it or not, well... he's just going to play it silly in the morning.

"That color and laces looked good on you, darling. Sweet dreams, sorry for not knocking."

"Babe, take your time, but just so you dont scold me later, fireworks start at— ...uh, sorry. Uhh, that color looks good on you! I mean, sheesh, alright— im leaving, im leaving..." ♡ SLOW ASS TURTLE. Talks with you without noticing youre changing. Another man who just stands like "🧍‍♂️" while looking at you for a whole ten seconds and he tries to fix it with compliments just for you to have to push him outside of the bedroom ♡ He hums outside of your room, wondering if he made you uncomfortable or something, relationships are something new for him too— so he has zero idea how to handle this situation at first. ♡ He wont lie that he finded you pretty, thats a normal thing! Well, he guesses...so he wont see complimenting you on it as a bad a thing, but he does understand that not knocking was wrong (and not moving quickly too) ♡ Being on his side was silent for a moment before he leaved a sigh, scratched his neck before ruffling your hair and apologized in a cute way— he learned to talk a lot better after his fight with Haruka and always expresses himself honestly with you.

"'m sorry im just saying this now, i should had knocked...anyways, you looked pretty though...i mean it! You know i love you, right?"

"Babyyyy...Hurry up so we can go on a walk already! do you want to— DAAAMNN, that one looks good on you! is that the one i gived you money to buy? i should buy you another, but in blue and— Dont push meeee...!" ♡ Clingy, whining, sassy ASSSS...He wont leave that room until you try to push him like a good damn minute. Worst of all? While you push him out of the bedroom, he would make sassy remarks of other colors you could try that would look better with a damn big grin in his face. ♡ Apologizing? Nah, he's more into the old good "teasing my girlfriend until she feels the urge to beat me!!", íf you two went to the shopping...yeah, probably points out a store that sells them only to annoy you more. ♡ Follows you around even if youre mad or something, complimenting you on the way and even if he feels playful,(Literally everyday) will squeeze your waist just to scare you and finally get your attention directed to his face. ♡ Once you two are back to your house, he's teasingly tracing the contour of your bra through your shirt, holding you close and not letting his eyes fall from yours, he tempts you through them only to finally squeeze you into an hug since he's a romantic one, of course..!

"Im not going to apologize for finding you pretty, babe. Were not in a backwards world, arent we? So stop frowning and i'll spoil you in more gifts!"

I got confused and i made headcanons D: But i'll probably make a scenario for Togame if you rlly want it !!

[yeonzzzn]

🤍give up heaven: sunghoon

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 10.6k

synopsis: when you run into your best friend's ex-boyfriend at your favorite coffee shop thinking it was just a coincidence until seeing him became a daily thing. You can't get him out of your head and start to feel guilty at the very thought of him and things take a turn when he starts making advances towards you.

genre: hockey player!hoon with small mentions of figure skater!hoon, ex-bestfriend bf!hoon, hoon's ex-girlfriend best friend, friends to lovers, slight smut.

warnings: swearing, implied sex, make-out session, fingering, jerking off, verbal fight between reader, the ex, and sunghoon, MINORS DNI. lmk if i've missed anything!

You tried to avert your eyes when you saw him walk into the coffee shop. Pulling the scarf around your neck up higher and turning your face in the opposite direction. 

His voice echoed throughout the small shop, ordering his regular drink. Why do you still remember how he liked his coffee?

You slowly glanced up, his back was facing towards you, his hand reaching for his wallet from the back pocket of his blue jeans. 

After paying, he stepped back from the counter. You quickly turned your head away again, praying he didn’t see you or would even notice you. 

“Y/N?” 

Well, shit.

There's no point in hiding now. You slowly lifted your head, seeing the soft smile on his face as he slightly leaned to the side to get a look at your face, “It really is you.” 

You awkwardly smile, “Yes, it’s me.” 

Get your shit together, Y/N, come on.

He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped short when his name was called, “Sunghoon! Your iced coffee is ready!” 

“Be right back,” his knuckles tapped on the table, his smile growing. 

You carefully watched as he got his coffee and made his way back to your table, pulling the chair across from you out and seating himself. 

“How have you been?” he asked excitedly, his long fingers wrapping around his coffee, taking a small sip, “It’s been what? A year?” 

You nodded, wrapping your fingers around your warm coffee, “I see you still drink iced coffee even during the winter, some things never change huh?” 

Sunghoon softly chuckled, his smile just growing brighter and wider, his natural fangs peeking from his lips, “Everyone knows iced coffee is superior,” he leaned his elbows onto the table, “Your hair is longer, it looks good. You look good.” 

You smiled, “Thank you, you look really good as well, Sunghoon.” 

Sunghoon gave you a soft smirk and flexed his arms, “Why thank you! Been working out a lot lately.” 

You rolled your eyes and took another sip of your coffee, “You really haven’t changed.” 

His laugh was enough to make you laugh as well, the corners of your lips curving upwards no matter how hard you tried to push it down. 

It felt like old times. 

Speaking about old times…

His smile finally faded, the happy expression he once had was also gone, his face relaxing into a kinda of sad softness. 

His voice trembled, “How is uhh…how is she?” his eyes darted to the corner of the table. 

Oh…he’s still in love with her.

Your lips thinned into a line, trying to figure out what information was appropriate to give out. 

“She’s really good.” it wasn’t a total lie. 

Sunghoon nodded, the corner of his lips barely curling, “That’s… um…that’s good then. I’m glad she’s doing well.” 

It broke your heart that he couldn’t even say your best friend's name. It must still hurt even after a year. 

Sunghoon dated your best friend for almost three years. You remember when the two of you first met him at your college's hockey game. 

He bumped into the two of you, spilling his soda all down your best friend's outfit. Oh, man was she pissed. It didn’t take Sunghoon long to convince her to let him make it up to her. 

After that, they were inseparable. 

Sunghoon was a part of the hockey team, but due to a leg injury, he had to sit out until he was completely healed. But that didn’t stop him from attending every hockey game to support his teammates. He even dragged your best friend along with him. Which eventually led you to tag along as well. 

The three of you became that trio that was inseparable. A package deal. If you saw one of us, the other two were sure to be right behind. 

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t. Their relationship got toxic. They fought more than normally and on hangout days, either your best friend was missing, or Sunghoon was missing. Nothing felt right and the air between your friend group grew thick. Hard to breathe. 

Sunghoon eventually stopped talking to you, and then they broke up. Your best friend stopped hanging around you and slowly stopped speaking to you as well. You figured it was due to the heartbreak, that she just needed her space. You didn’t think it would lead to your friendship slowly becoming nonexistent. 

You two weren’t exactly best friends anymore, but after she healed from the breakup, she came back around. It just wasn’t the same as before Sunghoon came into the picture. 

You two still barely talk, and barely see each other, but still kept that contact and hung out when you could. 

You never understood why she pushed you away, but the heart does crazy things when it’s hurting. 

And you haven’t seen Sunghoon since a couple of months before the breakup, until today. A little over a year later. 

“Well,” Sunghoon’s voice brought you out of your deep thoughts, “I have to get going, need to catch practice.” 

Your eyebrows raised, “You’re playing still?” 

Sunghoon’s doctor finally cleared him to get back on the ice after almost a year of being off it, but due to the team setup they had at that time, he wasn’t able to fully rejoin the team again until around the time of the breakup. He was able to practice and attend the games as a sub if needed, but it was enough for him to keep his mind busy for a little bit. 

You’ve secretly kept up with the scores of the hockey team, knowing Sunghoon was back on the team officially. But after a while you quit. Clearing Sunghoon from your life completely. 

Sunghoon nodded, “Hell yeah I’m still playing, who do you think I am?” he teased, standing up from the table, “But, I am actually not going to hockey practice.” 

The surprise must have shown on your face because Sunghoon was giggling like a child at your confusion, “I joined an ice skating team as a figure skater.” 

You sat up straighter in your chair, “Since when?!”

“Since…well.” He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, it was all you needed to know. 

Being a sub on the hockey team eventually wasn’t enough for Sunghoon to keep his brain busy after the breakup. Until he was officially able to play again, he needed another distraction. Come to find out he loved figure skating as much as hockey, deciding even after being fully back on the hockey team, he kept up with figure skating as well. 

You slowly nodded, “I am really glad you’re doing well for yourself, Sunghoon.” 

He softly nodded back, “Thank you, Y/N. I have to get going, the ice is calling my name.”

You waved at him as he walked to the entrance, him turning back around as his back touched the doors, “It was nice seeing you!” 

You agreed. 

—

Your best friend sighed as another customer walked into the smoothie shop, holding up her index finger towards you as she walked away and up to the register, taking the customer's order. 

You leaned against the counter, moving the seat back and forth with your hips like a child. 

“Okay,” she said, returning to you after the customer's smoothie was made, “What were you telling me?” 

“Just that the materials you missed in bio today weren't too hard. I took extra notes for you,” you pulled into your backpack taking out the pretty iced blue folder, “Here they are!” you pulled out the stack of notes you made for her, her taking them and holding them to her chest.

“Thank you SO MUCH YN!!!” she placed the papers in a drawer under the counter, “I could kiss you right now. What would I do without you?” 

Probably survive perfectly fine since you had no problem cutting me off after you and Sunghoon broke up. 

You shrugged with a smile, “Fail bio.” 

She laughed and nodded, “Yeah, probably. But I have you to help keep me in the loop!” 

You honestly hated how the two of you could go DAYS sometimes even WEEKS without talking or seeing each other yet she has no problem acting as if nothing ever happened. 

But she was all you had, so you played along with her. 

You dropped your backpack onto the floor, wondering if telling her the other thing was right or wrong. 

You decided to anyway. 

“I also saw Sunghoon the other day.” 

Her movements slowed and her smile faded, “Is that so?” 

You nodded, “We talked for a couple of minutes, but he had to go practice, so it was a short moment.” 

You could see the gears were turning in her brain, “Practice? Guess he was able to get back on the team after all. That’s good at least.” 

“He actually is figure skating now too, that’s where he was headed.” 

Your best friend’s eyes widened, “Wow, I did not see that one coming.” 

You agreed, “It was definitely not something I’d expected Park Sunghoon to do, but I guess it kinda suits him.” 

Your friend nodded, seeing how deep in thought she was. 

You wanted to ask her to speak her mind, but unfortunately, the two of you weren’t that close anymore. 

A couple more customers walked in, sending her back away from you. 

You stood from the seat, grabbing your things, giving her a smile and wave as you walked out. You only came to give her the notes she missed anyway. 

Usually, when she skips out of class she gets the notes from one of the boys she’s secretly messing around with. But every blue moon she asks you. 

You guessed it was the only way to keep in contact with you in some way. 

—

You quickly stepped into the coffee shop, brushing off the slight snow from your hair, ready to get a sip of your favorite coffee. 

The barista noticed you, giving you his famous thumbs-up, “Already on it YN!” 

You gave him a thumbs-up back. You were so happy you discovered this place, it became one of your comfort places to be. It’s quiet enough to do homework or read, the coffee is amazing and all the baristas know you and your order. What isn’t there to love?

“Fancy seeing you here again,” you whipped around, seeing Sunghoon sitting in your usual spot, a book in his hands and his iced coffee half empty on the table. 

Your brain spasmed, what was he doing here again?

You just nodded, “You’re in my spot.” 

Sunghoon shrugged, “I can move?” 

Well shit, now you feel bad. 

You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind sharing.” 

Sunghoon smiled, eyes flickering back down to his book. 

The barista called your name, turning your attention back to him, “Thank you, Taehyun.” 

His sharky smile warms your heart, “Always,” his eyes darted over to Sunghoon then back to you, “Do you know him?” 

You sighed, “Yes, he’s an old friend.” 

Taehyun nodded, his tongue sliding into his cheek, “He’s been here every day since the last time you were here.” 

You froze, narrowing your eyes, “Honestly?” 

Taehyun nodded again, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay and that he wasn’t some creep.” 

You smiled softly at him, “No need to worry. He’s harmless.” 

Taehyun gave you a half smile, then walked off to finish working. 

You sat down in front of Sunghoon, his eyes not leaving the page of his book. 

You cleared your throat, taking a sip of your coffee. 

Sunghoon glanced up for a second at your throat clearing, “Yes?” 

You cupped your hands around your coffee, “What?” 

Sunghoon sighed and closed his book, setting it on the table, “You only clear your throat like that when you have something to say.” 

Damn, does he remember the small details of you?

“You remember that?” 

Sunghoon chuckled, picking up his iced coffee, “YN, I’ve known you for almost, what? five years? You think I’d just forget everything?” 

Well, no…just didn’t think you’d care enough to remember. you didn’t date me after all. 

All you could do was shrug, “My barista told me you’ve been here every day,”

Sunghoon raised a brow as he sipped on his coffee, finishing it off, “Your barista?” 

“Not like that!” you snapped quietly, wishing you could jump over the table and tackle him, “I’m a regular here, Taehyun just happens to be the barista who always takes care of me.” 

Sunghoon mouthed out a “wow” and leaned back into the seat, “First name bases too?” 

“Sunghoon,” his name falling off your lips felt foreign, mostly since you were speaking to him, “Why are you here every day?” 

He thinned out his lips into a line, eyes looking down at his Converse, “Been looking for a good coffee shop to regular, and this one surprised me when I first came in here. You just so happened to be here the day I decided to try it.”

That sounds…completely true. This coffee shop is incredible. You don’t blame him for wanting to become a regular. It was all a coincidence. 

You sipped down your coffee, feeling the stare of his eyes, “Yes?” 

“So back to Taehyun being your barista,” 

You laughed, kicking your leg into his shin, “Stop!” 

Sunghoon’s fangs slipped out as he smiled. 

—

Sunghoon’s appearance in the coffee shop became more regular, just like he said. 

Taehyun knew his order by heart, just like yours, and would always have it ready the moment he saw Sunghoon walk in. 

You had to admit, it felt good having him back in your life. It felt like old times when you’d hang out when your best friend was too busy working. You three all used to be so close. 

Yet you didn’t have the heart to tell her you were even hanging out with Sunghoon again. It technically wasn’t even hanging out, you two just happened to sit, talk, and drink coffee together at your favorite coffee shop. 

Another week has flown by with Sunghoon making his appearance at the shop.

You laughed together over a book you both read, Sunghoon feeling Taehyun’s eyes on you. 

You stood up, “I’m heading to the bathroom,” 

Sunghoon nodded, his eyes darting to Taehyun, watching him as he watched you walk to the bathroom. A small sigh escaped Taehyun’s lips. 

Taehyun then made eye contact with him, and the look he was giving Sunghoon made him clench his fists. 

Your return to the table had Sunghoon relaxing, and Taehyun returning to work. 

Sunghoon couldn’t take his eyes off you. He felt so at home in your presence. His mind telling him to tell you the truth, that you deserved to know. But the moment you locked eyes with him and the corners of your lips curled into that precious smile, he couldn’t do it. 

“What’s up?” you asked, “You’re deep in thought?” 

“Ahh…” Sunghoon tried to collect his thoughts, then quickly smiled, settling on the topic change, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” you thought about it, “I just have class, why?” 

“Come to my hockey practice tomorrow night.” 

That invite took you by surprise, “Huh?” 

Sunghoon smiled even more, leaning forward on the table, “Come watch my practice tomorrow. Please?”

You tried to find an excuse to get out of it, but nothing came to mind. How could you just show up to your best friend’s ex-boyfriend’s hockey practice?

“The guys would love to see you, I bet.” Sunghoon mentioning his friends only hit you in the heart harder, “Come on, YN, just like old times.” 

Without a second thought, you agreed. Not knowing exactly why, but feeling as if it would be okay. It was just hockey practice. 

He jumped up from the table, “I have to get to figure skating practice, is your phone number still the same?”

You nodded, heart beating faster at hearing he still had your phone number. 

With a jump away from the table and a small skip, he said, “I’ll text you the details!” 

—

Sunghoon twirled his hockey stick in hand, eyes darting to each entrance of the stadium.

Heeseung skated past, quickly stopping in front of him, eyes also following each entrance, “Brother, what are you looking at?”

Sunghoon snaps his attention at Heeseung, his mouth open to speak, but no words coming out. 

“He’s waiting for YN,” Jay says as he also skates past, skating a circle around them. 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Dude.” 

Jay smirked, “Should’ve kept your mouth shut.” 

“Clearly, that’s the last time I tell you anything,” Sunghoon said, sliding his helmet over his head. 

Heeseung raised a brow, “Wait you’re speaking to YN again?” 

Sunghoon just nodded, “Yeah. We umm, ran into each other at a coffee shop.” 

“Yeah, “ran into each other”, we’ll call it that.” Jay teased, leaning forward on his hockey stick. 

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll kick your stick from you and laugh when you hit the ice,” Sunghoon said with a snarky smile. 

“Woah now!” Jay said, holding his hand up, “You’re a figure skater now, can’t be talking like that anymore.” 

Sunghoon skated forward, Jay also scooted backward sticking his tongue out. 

Heeseung seemed to be the only one who was concerned, “How did the three of you make up?” 

Sunghoon awkwardly chuckled, “You mean the two of us…”

Heeseung looked at his friend confused, “You and—“

“No,” Sunghoon quickly shook his head, “We aren’t talking.” 

Heeseung just nodded, finally putting the pieces together, “Sorry for assuming that you rekindled with both of them.” 

Sunghoon swung his hockey stick around again, “Just YN. And from what I’ve noticed, the two of them aren’t really friends anymore.”

It didn’t take long for Sunghoon to figure it out. The way it used to be, his ex would always talk about you, and you would always talk about his ex. The two of you were inseparable. A package deal. With one you got the other. And the fact that you haven’t once brought her up over the last week that he’s started talking to you again, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she also pushed you away after the breakup. 

Heeseung just nodded, “Do you blame them?” Sunghoon just looked at him, not knowing what to say, “YN doesn’t know, does she?” 

Sunghoon shook his head, “No, and she won’t.” 

“Hoon-“

“I am not ready to tell her,” Sunghoon snapped, “I finally got one of my closest friends back, I don’t want to cross that bridge.” 

Heeseung sighed and nodded, “Okay man, just don’t get butt hurt when it backfires at you.” 

Sunghoon knew this secret could backfire on him, he wasn’t stupid. But it was worth the risk. 

“I’m going to see if she texted me,” he said, “Just in case she said he couldn’t make it.” 

Heeseung watched as Sunghoon skated off towards his gym bag. 

Dropping his gloves to the ice and carefully stepping off the ice, he sat down on the bench, opened his gym bag, and pulled out his phone, quickly finding your messages and seeing you’ve read his last text. 

Sunghoon felt stupid getting his hopes up. What did he think inviting you would do? 

I just wanted her back in my life again. 

He tossed his phone back in the bag and stepped back onto the ice, pulling his gloves back onto his hands. 

I’m so fucking pathetic. 

Sunghoon adjusted his gloves, now waiting for practice to start. 

Jay whistled at him, causing a glare to shoot from his eyes.

Jay tilted his head up, “Look.” 

Sunghoon turned back around, seeing you walking in, your arms wrapped tightly around you. 

He couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face, immediately skating in your direction. 

“You made it!” he said, sliding his helmet from his head. 

You smiled back, nodding, “Sorry that I am a bit late, my class got out later.” 

You walked up to the wall Sunghoon was now leaning against, his helmet resting on top of it. 

“You showed up, and that’s all that matters,” Sunghoon couldn’t hide how happy it made him that you were here right now. 

You nodded again, smiling wide back at him, “It’s cold as balls in here though!” 

Sunghoon pointed over to his gym bag, “I have my hockey varsity jacket in my bag, wear it if you get too cold.” 

“I am definitely going to wear it,” you shivered, “I forgot how cold it gets in here.” 

The memory of the last time he saw you replayed in his mind, it was during a hockey game. His team was a couple of points away from winning. Sunghoon and his ex were too busy fighting off on the side of the bleachers, her stomping away not wanting to finish the conversation. His eyes wandered over to you, the sad look you gave him broke his heart even more. Your heart was also breaking due to watching your closest friends tear each other apart. All Sunghoon could do was shove his hands into his hoodie pocket and walk out of the stadium. 

He watched as you walked over to his things, your hands immediately reaching for the jacket and sliding it onto your body. 

Oh fuck I am a goner. 

Sunghoon loved the way you looked in his jacket. The way it loosely hangs against your body. How cute it made you look. His heart dropped onto the ice. 

Your body started warming up a bit more, sliding your hands into his jacket pockets. Your eyes traced the other players on the ice. Jay and Heeseung waving at you. You waved back. Gosh, you couldn’t remember the last time you saw either of them. 

You’ve seen them out and about around the college, but not so personally like this. It’s been way too long. 

Sunghoon skated back over to his friends and teammates. 

“It’s weird seeing her again,” Jay said, watching you sit down, eyes wandering around the stadium, “Mostly seeing her without her twin at her hip. She looks really good though,” 

Jay was lucky Sunghoon was in a better mood than earlier, or else he’d be wiping the ice with Jay’s face, “Can we not talk about my ex, please, and she does look good. Eyes off.” 

Jay wanted to make a smart remark, but with a quick look at Sunghoon and then you, he decided to leave the teasing off the ice, giving him a nod, “Yeah, sorry man.” 

Their coach finally started practice. 

It went by in a flash. You waited outside the stadium for Sunghoon, his jacket still wrapped around your body. 

“Well, what did you think of our practice?” Sunghoon said, sneaking up on you, and giving you a little jolt. 

“It was very interesting, you played well.” 

Sunghoon walked closer to you, his hands reaching up to fix the collar of his jacket, his cold fingers brushing against your skin, “My jacket looks really good on you.” 

Your heart sank. 

Is he…flirting???

“Oh, shoot!” you tried to play it off as if you forgot, wanting to find an excuse for the blush on your face to go away after his comment, reaching to take the jacket off, “Here, I forgot I was still wearing it.” 

Sunghoon grabbed your hands and shoved them back at your side, “YN, keep it.” 

“But—“ 

Sunghoon interrupted, “It’s okay! I promise! Just keep it for now, okay? I have another jacket I can wear.” 

You nodded, feeling your body getting hot from his hands still touching yours. 

Why are you getting so bothered??? You’ve known him for years. Why is every little thing he’s doing affecting you???

“Anyways,” he said, finally letting go of your hands, “We have a game this weekend, you’ll come right?” 

You wouldn’t mind going, it could be an excuse to get you out of your apartment for once and not just sit at the coffee shop either. 

“Yeah, I’ll come.”

Sunghoon smiled, his eyes darting to the ground to try and hide just how big he was smiling, “I’ll save you a ticket.” 

—

You walked into the shop, giving Taehyun a smile and wave. Giving you the normal thumbs up. 

You dropped your backpack to the floor at your normal table and slumped down into the seat with a sigh. 

“Rough day?” Sunghoon asked, his yellow highlighter moving across his textbook. 

You nodded, “I forgot to set my alarms last night, so I woke up late and got to class late. On top of that I had to take double the notes because…” you stopped yourself, not wanting to bring your best friend's name into the mix. 

Sunghoon stopped highlighting, he didn’t even have to hear her name to know what you were going to say, his eyes slowly rising to meet yours, “You’re still taking notes for her?” 

You just shrugged, “Maybe…” 

“YN,” he dropped his highlighter into the textbook, “You need to stop doing that.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Mostly because you knew he was right. She was just using you at this point. 

Taehyun interrupted your thoughts by setting your coffee down in front of you, “Tae! I could have gotten it from you.” 

His cute sharky smile came out, “Don’t worry about it, I don’t ever get to bring the coffee to you. Plus I needed to get away from behind the counter.” 

You smiled up at him, “Thank you.” 

Taehyun rested his hand on your shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze, “It’s no problem at all, YN.” 

Sunghoon clenched his fists under the table, eyes burning holes into his hand that was touching you. 

As Taehyun walked away, he locked eyes with Sunghoon as if to say “Your move now, buddy.” 

Oh, I’ll play your game, Taehyun. 

“He totally has a crush on you.” Sunghoon spat out. 

You softly giggled, “Who? Tae? No,” you giggled again, taking a sip of your coffee, “He’s just a good friend.” 

Sunghoon rubbed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, eyes darting back to Taehyun who was now back behind the counter, “I can see it in the way he looks at you.” 

You rolled your eyes. He sounds jealous. 

You glanced up at him, seeing how he kept his eyes on Taehyun. 

Oh, he’s…actually jealous??? No. It couldn’t be. He’s still in love with his ex.

You shook the thoughts from your head, deciding to change the subject, “Are you ready for the game tomorrow?” 

Sunghoon’s eyes made their way back to you, his face relaxing and a small smile formed, “Yes, you’re still coming…right?” 

You nodded, “I wouldn’t miss it,” you took another sip of your coffee, “Wasn’t able to see you play back then, so I’m excited to see you play now.” 

Hearing you say that warmed his heart. Knowing you’ll be in the crowd cheering for him and only him. He had to make sure he was on his ‘a game’ tomorrow. 

“Make sure to wear my jacket tomorrow,” Sunghoon gave you a wink, picking his highlighter back up and continuing where he left off. 

You giggled, “Why? What will your jacket do? Bring good luck?” 

Sunghoon chuckled, stretching the highlighter across the words on the textbook, “It has an S.H. and my last name on the back,” he glanced back up at you, “And you know, yeah, you wearing my jacket will bring good luck. You’ll be my good luck charm.” 

Sunghoon took notice of the slight blush on your cheeks, his smile growing more as he looked back to his textbook. 

God, she’s so cute. 

You tried to slow your heart rate. Why is he making you feel like this? 

“It’s getting kinda late,” Sunghoon’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, “Are you hungry? Want to grab a bite to eat? Then I can walk you to your apartment?”

You nodded. 

You weren’t sure what these butterflies in your stomach meant, but it made you feel guilty for even having them. 

—

It was game day and your nerves were all tied together in a knot. 

You took one last look at your outfit in your mirror, fingers twisting in the belt loops of your ripped skinny jeans, pulling them up further above your hips. 

Your college’s hockey team t-shirt had a small hole at the bottom of the shirt, which was to be expected. This was an old shirt and you haven’t worn it since the last game you attended…the night Sunghoon pushed you out of his life. 

Your black high-top vans looked like they’ve seen better days, but looked good with the outfit. 

Grabbing a hair tie from your vanity, you pulled your long hair back, wrapping the tie around it, just to pull it out right after.  

You tried different hairstyles, not liking a single one. 

Why do I even care how my hair looks? 

You settled for a ponytail, deciding it’s what matched the outfit better. 

The last final piece was Sunghoon’s jacket, pulling it over your shoulders. You turned around in the mirror, glancing back to see his initials on the back. 

“You’ll be my good luck charm.” 

You caught yourself smiling at the memory, bringing the hems of the jacket up to your nose, breathing in the smell. 

It still smelt like him, even after you’ve had it for the last couple of days. The familiar smell of blackberry and floral filled your senses. 

His scent brought you comfort, the knot of nerves unraveling and disappearing. 

While the nerves found their way out, other feelings crept their way in. 

Your heart raced faster, thinking about the smile on Sunghoon’s face he’d have when he saw you. 

The more thoughts of him that flooded your brain, the more guilty you felt. 

He’s your best friend’s ex…you can’t be thinking about and getting so giddy over him. 

You slapped your hands to your face, hoping it would be enough to kick those feelings out. 

Unfortunately, they didn’t. 

You sat down at your vanity, pulling open one of the drawers, revealing a photo booth picture strip of yourself, Sunghoon, and your best friend. 

You held the fragile paper in your hands, staring at each set of photos one by one. Eyes locking onto Sunghoon. 

You didn’t feel this way about him back then, so why now all of a sudden does he have your stomach tied in knots? 

His smile in the photos sent your heart racing. The way he was looking at your best friend, you couldn’t help but wish he looked at you like that. 

You quickly shoved the photo strip back into the drawer, slamming it shut. 

You stood from the chair, grabbed your phone and keys, and walked out of your room. 

By the time you showed up at the stadium, the opposing team and Sunghoon’s team lined up on each side of the rink doing their warmups. 

Your eyes searched for him, seeing the number 23 skating by quickly, him swinging the hockey stick, sending the puck flying into the goal. 

Even though it was just a practice shot, you clapped anyway. 

Sunghoon skated back into line, eyes wandering the crowd until he found you. Your smile sends butterflies in his stomach fluttering about. 

God, you look so good right now. The way your hair was pulled back, the way your thighs peeked out from the rips of your jeans, and how perfect his jacket looked on you. 

Sunghoon never let his ex wear that jacket, it was so special to him, so much that only he wanted to wear it. But it was so different with you. 

He gave you a wave, letting you know that he does indeed, know you’re here. 

The game finally started, and the butterflies did not calm down one bit. He had to do well in this game. He couldn’t disappoint you. 

Heeseung patted his back, “Calm down buddy, you’re our best player. Can’t have you tapping out on us.” 

Jay agreed, “This isn’t even the first game of the season, what’s got you so worked up all of a sudden?” 

“YN is here,” Niki, one of the only freshmen on the team, teased. 

Sunghoon shot the younger one a glare, “Brother, you don’t want to tease me right now.” 

Niki smirked, “Man, I know enough about your life and I barely have been on the team.” 

Jay slapped Sunghoon’s shoulder, “Just ignore the kid, he’s just a little silly.” 

Niki agreed, “Just a little bit.” 

Sunghoon waved his teammates off, “I am fine, my nerves have nothing to do with YN being here.” 

His friends looked at him with telling faces, they knew he was lying. Knew he was full of shit. But deciding to let it go. 

The game went on, each of the teams scoring left and right. 

You sat on the edge of your seat, hands clasped together at your chest. There were five minutes left on the clock, your team was only a point ahead. 

Your eyes followed Sunghoon on the ice, you could tell by his body language he was stressed. The way he stretched his arms out over his hockey stick behind his neck was enough to tell how absent-minded he was in this moment, the only thing he could focus on was getting one last point. Swinging his stick back down onto the ice, slightly bending over, ready for anything. 

Jay passed the puck to Niki, pushing the puck across the rink, Sunghoon positioned himself, screaming for Niki to pass the puck towards him.  

Niki passed it quickly to him. Sunghoon grabbed the puck, pushing his feet and legs as quickly as he could against the ice, the only thing on his mind was to keep the puck against the stick.

As he neared the goal, the goalie prepared himself for Sunghoon to make a shot. 

Sweat dripped down the side of his face, hands gripping tighter on the stick as he lifted it from the ice and puck. 

You stood to your feet, hands hovering over your chest, gripping at the fabric of your shirt. 

Sunghoon swung the stick using all the force possible and hit the puck, watching as the black disc flew across the ice. 

The world seemed to go in slow motion for Sunghoon, his eyes wide as the anticipation of waiting for the puck to reach the goalie, it sliding gracefully between the goalie's legs, the guy barely missing to stop it. 

Sunghoon pivoted, stopping his motion on the ice. His eyes locked onto the puck, confirming it hit the net. 

He turned his body towards his teammates, the world around him going back to normal speed. The crowd cheered, and his teammates surrounded him, slapping their hands against his chest, shoulders, and back. The clock hit its final second, the buzzer sounding. The game was over. We won. 

We won..!!

Sunghoon started screaming and cheering with his teammates, hands slapping them as they continued to slap him. 

You rushed down to the wall, the upper half of your body leaning over it, cupping your hands to your mouth, “Sunghoon!!!” 

He didn’t hear you over the screams of his mates and fans. But it felt as if he knew you were waiting for him. 

His eyes found you and started pushing past his teammates, sliding his helmet off and handing it and his stick off to Heeseung. 

Using what was left of his leg strength, he pushed himself towards you quickly. 

He stretched his arms up in the air, shouting, “WE DID IT!!” 

You couldn’t stop your smile from falling, not when Sunghoon looked as happy as he did at that moment. His fangs were on full display from how wide he was smiling. 

His body crashed against the wall, his gloved hands wrapping around your waist, connecting his torso to yours. 

His wet sweaty hair tickled your cheek as he pulled you into a hug. The first hug you’ve received from him since…well the breakup. 

You patted his back, leaning your head against his, “You played so well! I am so proud of you!” 

You’ve never gotten to tell him how exactly proud of him you were. For all the years you’ve known him, he’s always given his one hundred percent, but because of the past circumstances, you weren’t able to voice how proud you were of him, your best friend wouldn’t have allowed it. 

Hearing you tell him how well he did was enough to risk everything. It did something so deep to his heart that he couldn’t hide it anymore. 

It’s now or never Park Sunghoon, just do it. 

“I told you. I told you that you were my good luck charm,” he whispered in your ear, brushing his cheek against yours as he moved his head up. Brushing his nose against yours softly before moving in, pressing his lips against yours quickly. 

So fast that you didn’t have time to process it as his hands left your waist and he was skating backward away from you. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes stayed locked with yours. 

Your fingertips touched your lips, your ears blocking out all sound as the rest of your senses focused on the man in front of you. 

He kissed you…Oh my god, he kissed you!!! 

Sunghoon gave you a wink and said “Meet me by my car!” then turned back around, skating to his teammates, all of them huddling together. 

—

He pressed you up against his front door, using your body to completely shut it, his fingers flipping the lock as his tongue invaded your mouth, your brain going fuzzy. 

You met him at his car after the game and convinced you to have dinner with him and the team. 

You sat beside him in the booth at this fancy diner, his arm was wrapped around your shoulder, his fingers softly rubbing against your arm. Once the food arrived at the table, his arm went from being behind you to his hand resting on your thigh, his fingers sliding between the rips of your jeans, squeezing the plush skin. 

His touch was driving you crazy, and with your new emotions towards him, it made his contact with your skin make you hot and bothered. 

Sunghoon couldn’t keep his hands off you, and you liked it. Liked the attention he was giving you. 

Liked it so much that you didn’t even think twice when he drove right past the street of your apartment building and pulled into his apartment building. 

He held both your hands tightly, his smile so bright as he guided you up the stairs to his apartment. Soft laughs leaving his lips at just the thought of being with you. 

He was dying to kiss you again. Like properly kiss you. 

He wanted to kiss you so bad that the moment you were inside his apartment, his hands and body were pressed against yours, using his weight to push you against his door. Lips connecting to yours as if he were running out of oxygen and your lips were the sole source of air. 

His hands moved from your hips, sliding up your torso, fingers grazing against your breasts and up to your neck, hands cupping your jaw. 

You kissed him back forcefully, pushing your tongue between his lips, rubbing the muscle against his own, mixing your saliva. 

You tasted so sweet to him. He couldn’t get enough. 

Sunghoon went to pull away, wanting to attach his lips to your neck, but you weren’t ready for his lips to leave yours. 

You caught his bottom lip between your teeth, biting a bit harder than you expected. 

Sunghoon hissed out in pleasure, rolling his hips against yours, his clothed hard length pressing at your heat. 

You released his lip, his hands taking yours and lifting them above your head, pinning you against the door, his lips attaching themself to your neck, “Keep acting up baby and I just might have to punish you.” 

His words sent chills down your spine as he left open mouth kisses on your neck. Your imagination running wild at what these punishments would be, but being too afraid to test his limits. 

Sunghoon loved hearing the soft moans escaping your pretty little mouth. It was music to his ears. 

He placed his leg right between yours, using it to spread them further apart, giving him more access to press his cock against you. 

You were shaking, wanting to completely feel him against you, skin to skin. 

“Hoonie,” you whispered in his ear, “Please,” 

Sunghoon reached down, cupping the back of your thighs and lifting you up, wrapping your legs around him. His hands sliding to cup your ass, lips finding yours again. 

“Say less princess,” he mumbled against your lips as he carried you to his bedroom. 

He laid you down gently on his bed, his right hand stayed on your thigh, squeezing it tightly to keep it wrapped around him as his left hand flew to his shirt, fingers working their magic at the buttons. 

You became impatient, sending your hands to help undress him. 

You slid the fabric off his shoulders and down his arms, your fingers feeling every muscle as they traced down his skin and off his body. 

Your eyes took a moment to appreciate his body. You already knew he worked out, but good lord was his toned, buff body beautiful. 

Sunghoon kissed you again, his hands sliding his jacket off your body then finding their way under your shirt and up and over your head. 

He worked with the button of your jeans as you worked with his. 

He slid his jeans and underwear down together, leaving him completely bare to you.

His fingers looped between your jeans and panties, lifting your hips up as he pulled them off your body. 

“Fuck, YN,” he moaned out, hands snaking underneath you to unclasp your bra, your breasts falling to their natural place once the material was on the floor. His eyes looked your bare body up and down, before laying his body on top of yours, “You’re so beautiful.” 

Your fingers tangled in his hair when he kissed you again, your tongues dancing together in perfect rhythm, his hand sliding down your body and stopping at your thigh to pull it back over his waist. 

Sunghoon was completely turned on just by the skin-to-skin contact, by just feeling your pretty legs wrapped around him. 

He rolled his hips, rubbing his dick against your clit, his hand fumbling at his nightstand drawer for his box of condoms. 

You woke up that next morning with the sun shining through his bedroom window. 

Sunghoon had his head on your chest still fast asleep. 

His arm was wrapped around your waist, the bedsheets were tangled up between yours and his legs. His leg hung out from the sheets and they hung at his hips, his bare back exposed. 

Your heart raced at the site in front of you. 

Did this actually happen?? I am not dreaming?

Your hand touched his bicep, fingers softly moving up and down his arm. 

Sunghoon moved his head up, tucking it in your neck, arm tightening around you. He was still fast asleep. 

Guilt washed over you once again. You just had sex with your best friend's ex-boyfriend. She would kill you both if she knew what happened last night. 

Did you regret it? Absolutely not. The sex was perfect. Sunghoon is perfect. But that still didn’t stop the thoughts that it shouldn’t have happened. 

Would you do it again? Regardless of these thoughts? Also yes. 

Your relationship with Sunghoon was different now. You had deep feelings for him. And the fact that he kept inviting you over, inviting you to his practices and games, asking to see you after classes, and randomly showing up at your front door, proved enough to you that it wasn’t about the sex that night, that his feelings also ran deep for you too. 

Your coffee shop days were more intimate, instead of sitting across from each other, you’d sit beside each other. Hands locking together as you’d drink your coffees. 

He would be waiting outside your apartment door every single morning to drive you to class. 

You would cheer him on from the bleachers at every practice, and have dinner with him afterwards. 

The sex got more intense the more comfortable you both got. You saw a whole new side of Sunghoon in the bedroom. A side you never thought you’d ever see or even thought about seeing until recently. 

He explored every inch of your body, his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. Shoving his fingers in your mouth as he pounded into you from behind. Bruises were left on your hips from how his fingers would grip your skin. 

You got more bold too. From being his little submissive princess to a dominant queen. The way you’d jerk your hand up and down his cock sending his head flying back, body shaking from your touch as you straddled him. 

Sunghoon became a part of your daily life, just like he was all that time ago. 

You showed up to every game wearing his jacket, being that good luck charm you knew you were to him. Everything felt right.

—

Sunghoon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you down onto your couch with him, “Babe, cuddle me! I am touch starved!” 

You rolled your eyes at him, trying to wiggle your way out of his grip, “We just had sex, yet you’re still touch-starved?” 

“Obviously!” he nuzzled his face at the nape of your neck, hands gripping the hem of your shirt, “Let’s have sex again.” 

“Hoonie,” you giggled at the feeling of his lips kissing your neck, “You have practice in thirty minutes, you need to get ready soon.” 

Sunghoon groaned against your neck, but he knew you were right. 

Sunghoon went to propose skipping practice tonight but got distracted by your phone ringing, eyes darting over to it, being the nosey guy that he is, and seeing…his ex’s name on the caller ID. 

His smile faded, why would she be calling you?

You sighed at seeing your best friend's name on your phone, finger-hitting the decline. 

Calling her your best friend seemed pointless now. Right before things kicked off between you and Sunghoon, she found another boy toy to mess around with, completely ignoring you. You’ve also tried many times to hang out with her, to go by and see her at her job, to invite her over to do homework, to try and just hang with her when Sunghoon was busy, yet all she did was ignore you. So the fact she’s hitting you up now only means she needs something from you. And to say you were exhausted from it would be an understatement. 

Maybe it was karma for keeping your relationship with Sunghoon a secret from her. But you also knew you couldn’t tell her. At least not right now. 

You felt bad declining the call, deciding to shoot her a quick text saying you were busy in the shower and couldn’t answer the call just for her to reply saying it was fine, but was wanting the notes from class today and then sent a smiley face :) 

Sunghoon shook his head, “Please don’t.” 

You set your phone down, not responding to her, “Don’t what?” you knew the answer, but tried to play dumb anyways. 

“YN, stop playing this game with her, she’s using you.” 

You knew it was true, but hearing it come from his mouth didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. 

Sunghoon bit his lips in a way to keep himself calm. He hated that she was doing this to you. He saw firsthand how badly the breakup affected you too. You lost both of your best friends because of it. But the shitty part was you weren’t supposed to lose her, but you did anyway. She was supposed to stay by your side but didn’t. 

She abandoned you. Even after she promised him she wouldn’t. 

The secrets he wishes he could tell you in hopes of you cutting her off for good, but he couldn’t break that trust with her, even if she deserved it. 

The only thing he could do was try and convince you in other ways. 

“Baby,” he whispered, “Look at me.” 

You did, shifting yourself in his lap to face him. 

He tucked your hair behind your ears, “You deserve better than that. I know you love and care for her, and that she’s your best friend, but this friendship is toxic. All it is doing is hurting you.” 

You looked away from his chocolate eyes and to the floor, “I know.” 

Sunghoon pulled your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look back at him, “I don’t want you to hurt anymore, not just because of her, but because of me too. We both did some damage to you and I have to live with that. I am so fucking lucky you let me come back in your life. And well, I am not saying to completely cut her out of your life,” even though that is what he’s wanting, “but don’t do things like this for her anymore.” 

You nodded. He was right. The only reason you kept doing things for her no matter what they were was to keep her in your life. You kept holding onto a rope that was torn a long time ago. 

“Promise me,” he asked, holding up his pinky finger, “Please.” 

You wrapped your pinky tightly with his, sealing the promise. 

—

It was the final game of the season, if the boys win this game they move on to the championship. 

Sunghoon stood with you by the wall, his hands trembling in his gloves. 

He was nervous, scared even, it was written all over his face. 

“Sunghoon,” you saying his name always sounded so beautiful to his ears. He looks over to you, giving a nervous smile, “It’ll be okay. You’re one of the best damn players on this team. The championship is calling your team's name!” 

You could only hope your words were reaching him, helping make him feel better. 

Which it did. His hand stopped trembling just from your smile. You were his good luck charm after all. 

He slid his hand from his glove, cupping the side of your face, “I am the luckiest man alive to have you.” 

You leaned into his hand, his thumb rubbing against your skin. 

His couch blew the whistle for warm-ups to start. 

“Gimme a good luck kiss princess,” he said pulling you closer to him, “It’ll give me strength.” 

You giggled against his lips and pouted as he skated away, giving him a thumbs up. 

Little did you know, your “best friend” was sitting in the bleachers, watching the entire thing. 

The game went in a flash, Sunghoon once again scoring the winning goal. 

You jumped from your seat and pressed against the wall, arms stretched out and waiting for Sunghoon to embrace himself into you, his lips crashing against yours in celebration of his win. 

You stood at the end of the bleachers, eyes staring off down the hallway that led to the locker rooms, heart racing at wanting to see Sunghoon again, to be able to give him a proper hug for his win. 

“OMG! You came to the game too?!” 

Your heart sank at her voice, your friend connecting her shoulder to yours as she stood beside you. 

Your body tensed, “Y-Yeah, it was their last game so I came to support them.” 

“Hmmm,” she hummed, her hands flying to Sunghoon’s jacket, “Isn’t this Hoon’s?” She forced you around, seeing his name printed on the back. 

She knows she’s got to know.

She hummed again, “Why do you have his jacket, YN?” 

You shrugged, leaning back against the bleacher, “I was cold and he offered it to me I guess.” 

She crossed her arms, “He never let me borrow it, weird.” 

“I was freezing,” you tried to play it off, “You know how cold I can get sometimes.” 

She nodded, “That’s true,” her eyes darted down the hallway, “Since when did you and Hoon start hanging out again?” 

She definitely knows. 

You knew it was a matter of time before she found out, but you didn’t think it would be like this. 

You opened your mouth to speak, only for her face to light up with excitement and her hands clapping. 

The boys finally were leaving the locker room, “Here come our winners!” she said. 

Sunghoon was with Jay, the two of them doing their handshake and walking in separate directions, Sunghoon’s smile fading after looking in your direction. 

“OH EM GEE!!!” she squealed, grabbing your hand and rushing you both to meet Sunghoon halfway, “You are such a star Hoonie!” 

She wrapped her arms around Sunghoon’s neck, but he was quick to pull her off of him, “What are you doing here?” 

You were surprised how calm he was. 

“Am I not allowed to come and support you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. 

“You lost that right when we broke up.” he scoffed, “Why are you actually here?” 

She pouted, pulling you to her side, “I missed you guys, wanted us to rekindle and be a trio again.” 

Sunghoon could smell the bullshit radiating out of her mouth. 

Does this bitch think I am stupid?

“Rekindle?” he chuckled, “Rekindle what? Exactly?” oh he was pissed now, “Explain yourself. Now.” 

She let go of your arm, taking a step closer to him, “I miss you, Hoon.” She reached to touch his face, but he caught her arm with his hand, shoving it away from him. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

You didn’t know what to do or what to say, this fight didn’t involve you, it was something they had to settle. 

“Hoon,” she begged, “I want you back, please.” 

Sunghoon took a step back away from her, “Cut the bullshit.” 

She rolled her eyes, “What bullshit?!”

“I am in a relationship,” he spat out, “I am happy.” 

A laugh escaped her mouth, a laugh you’ve never heard her do before, “I know, I am not stupid,” she took a step back, wrapping her arms around you, “You’re fucking our sweet YN.” 

Sunghoon’s grip on his duffle bag tightened and his jaw locked. What the fuck was she trying to pull here?

She smiled, knowing she got you both where she wanted you to be, “The fact that you’re both quiet speaks volumes, lemme tell ya.” 

“What the fuck do you want?” he said through his locked jaw. 

“I want to know why,” she pulled a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I want to know why you both betrayed me like this. Why my ex-boyfriend decided it was okay to fuck my best friend, and why my best friend decided it was okay to fuck my ex.” 

Oh, she’s going there? Game on.

Sunghoon chuckled, “Best friend? Best friends don't abandon each other!”

“That’s rich coming from you,” she retorted.

“You abandoned her!!” he snapped. 

“So did you!!” she snapped back, “You walked away just as much as I did!” 

“I walked away because I cared about you! I cared about your feelings! You promised you’d stay by her side, not leave her to fight alone and use her for your own personal gain, that’s not a friendship!” 

“Oh, here we go,” she laughed, “It’s always about YN.” 

You wanted to speak up, to ask them what that meant, but before you could, Sunghoon was reaching for you. 

He’s heard enough. He’s HAD enough. He couldn’t let this conversation continue, not when she might spill everything. 

He pulled you to his side, pushing you in the direction towards the exit door, “YN, baby, let’s go.” 

“How long did you think you could hide? Hmm?” 

Both you and Sunghoon stopped walking. 

“I’ve known for a while now,” you turned and faced her, waiting for her to finish, “You think I wouldn’t notice? Wouldn't notice either of your cars at each other's apartments?” 

Sunghoon laughed, “So you’re stalking us now? That’s so fucking low.” 

“How could I not? Not after I saw the two of you leaving that diner downtown a while ago,” 

She’s known since the beginning.

“I thought maybe, at first, you two were just hanging out again. I minded my business. But then I thought, hmm, I should surprise visit YN. And I bet you could imagine my surprise when I pulled up to her apartment and saw your car parked there and her riding your dick on her couch.” your face flushed, embarrassed, “Maybe next time make sure your blinds are closed before fucking in the living room.” 

Sunghoon sighed, pulling you closer to him. He felt like shit because of all this happening to you. 

“This doesn’t excuse your shitty stalking behavior,” Sunghoon said. 

She shrugged, “I only caught you by coincidence at first, the second time surprised me too. The rest I had to ask around campus to find out.” 

Sunghoon was getting more pissed by the second, “YN doesn’t deserve this!!” 

“You’re so right!” she clapped her hands, “She does deserve better friends, I know. We were so shitty to her. But you know what she also deserves? The truth.” 

The…truth?

Sunghoon shook his head, “No, let’s go,” he tried pushing you toward the exit again, he wasn’t ready for you to hear what she was about to say. 

You forced Sunghoon off you, taking a few steps back towards her, “What truth do I deserve to know?” 

Mostly since Sunghoon seemed so set on me leaving just now. 

Your friend smirked, “The truth about the reason why we broke up in the first place.” 

Sunghoon snapped her name, “Keep your fucking mouth shut!” 

You look back at him, “What is so goddamn secretive?” 

Sunghoon sighed, his eyes dropping to the floor. 

You looked back at her, “Well??” 

“The reason we broke up was because of you.” she crossed her arms over her chest, eyes darting at Sunghoon. 

“Because of me?” You couldn’t wrap your head around why, “W-what did I do?” 

“You didn’t do anything, YN,” Sunghoon finally said. 

“Then…why…” 

“Because he’s in love with you,” you stood there frozen, “He confessed to me a few months before we broke up on how deeply in love with you he was.” she said snarky, “That he caught feelings for you early on into our relationship, but kept it hidden all those years until he couldn’t. The guilt ate him up. Plus I caught him practically eye fucking you at one of the last parties we all attended together.” 

You looked back at Sunghoon, his eyes glossed over. He’s been in love with you the entire time you’ve known him? 

“It’s truly sad, isn’t it?” your friend continued, “The night we fought, was me making him promise to never come near you again. Guess it worked for a while.” 

“Why would you promise that!” You yelled at him, “Why would you even agree to that?!” 

“Because I still cared about her!” Sunghoon shook his head, “I wanted to respect her wishes, I wanted to respect you! You had no feelings towards me whatsoever, and after the last couple shitty months of my relationship with her, I wanted you to heal and find peace with losing me, had I known she would also walk away from you, I would have never let you go.” 

“Why did you stay with her as long as you did if you wanted me?” It was a shitty question to ask, but you had to know. 

“Because I was already a shitty person for falling in love with my girlfriend’s best friend. I didn’t want to hurt either of you. So I kept my feelings hidden until they eventually overflowed to the point I couldn’t contain it.” 

With tears in your eyes, you stomped over to him, fists hitting his chest, “Why would you leave me then?! I needed you!” you cried it all out, releasing the frustration, and he just took it, “Do you know how lonely I was when you left? How terrible I felt watching you walk away that night? I lost part of my soul.” 

Sunghoon pulled you to him, “Baby I know and I am so fucking sorry I did that to you.” 

You cried into his chest, fingers gripping his shirt. Too many emotions were fighting you at all once. You were the sole reason your best friends broke up, how could you not feel like shit?

You pushed yourself off him, turning back towards your friend, “What is your excuse for leaving me?” 

Her facial expression tightened, “How could I have stayed? Every time I looked at you all I could remember was the fact that my boyfriend wanted you, not me.” 

Fair enough. But that was also such a shotty excuse. 

“Guess our friendship didn’t mean shit to you,” you scoffed, “A boy meant more to you than I did. Meant more than our lifetime of friendship.” 

She had nothing to say to that, just thinned her lips in a line, looking away. 

“I’ve heard enough,” you softly said, “Take me home, please Sunghoon.” 

He nodded, extending out his hand for you to take it, and you did. The two of you walking away.

“Enjoy my seconds, YN.” 

Oh, she did not.

Sunghoon beat you to running his mouth, “At least YN pleases me. You should see the mess she makes of me since you want to stalk us so bad.” 

You bit the insides of your cheeks to keep from laughing, was their sex life that bad?

Her face turned red you could practically see the smoke coming out of her ears, “Go to hell Sunghoon! It’s where you belong!” 

He chuckled, “Gladly, I’d give up every piece of heaven for YN.” 

She rolled her eyes, it was always about you. It’s always been you for him. 

“Oh and by the way,” Sunghoon added, “I know you cheated on me multiple times with Mark from calculus, way before I confessed my feelings for YN. So us breaking up wasn’t just because of her. Suck a dick.” 

Sunghoon wrapped an arm around you, a smirk on his face as you both listened to her yelling more nonsense. 

—

He drove you home and walked you into your apartment. 

“I really am sorry, YN.” Sunghoon wrapped you into his arms, “I never wanted to hurt you.” 

You cupped his face, thumbs wiping the tears that fell, “Don’t ever apologize, okay? You were caught in a situation.” 

“It’s no excuse,” he took your hands in his, “I love you, I always have. I shouldn’t have walked away.” 

You just nodded, standing on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his nose, “I love you, Park Sunghoon. You’re with me now, and that’s all that matters.”

It was true. He was so lucky to have you. To finally have you after waiting for you for so long. 

Thank god he decided to try that coffee shop out. 

“Was sex with her really that bad?” you asked, a giggle escaping. 

He laughed too, “Yeah, never came once.” 

“I guess that means I win in that department too since I make such a mess outta you,” 

Sunghoon bit his lip, sliding his hands to squeeze your waist, “Keep talking like that and I’ll ruin you.” 

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips then escaped his arms, running towards your bedroom, “Can’t ruin me if I make a mess of you first.” 

Sunghoon chased after you, his heart pounding at the happiness on your face. 

God, he really was the luckiest man alive.

[summer-oil]

CALL MY NAME AND I'LL COME RUNNING ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru can be irritating, at times. but even if you push him away, he’ll always, always be there for you when you need him.

word count; 8.7k (this was supposed to b a short drabble but i was possessed by the devil halfway through)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, reader n toru have a fight, mild swearing (a couple fucks here n there), hurt/comfort, satoru has communication issues but he’s trying his best, depictions of stalking (reader gets followed by a random creep but satoru comes to the rescue dw), uhh implied thoughts of violence? (satoru wants to Maul said dude but doesn’t), literally just me being in love with satoru gojo for 8.7k words straight

a/n; no thoughts head empty only gojo running through the streets like a wild beast looking for u <33 im normal about him yeah.

“you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?”

satoru smiles. the sentence isn’t one he’s unaccustomed to hearing.

usually, the words are soaked in an undeniable fondness, as they spill from your lips. rich with exasperated love. one that never fails to have the corners of satoru’s lips curling up, a mellow kind of joy blossoming in his chest.

but now, that fondness is nowhere to be found. 

you sound thoroughly exasperated, and a little bit fatigued. more than anything else, there’s a vague irritation behind the tilt of your voice, something almost cold. it makes all the difference in the world. 

and yet, despite that, a certain someone chooses to pay no heed to the bad omen.

“aw, c’mon. you know you love me, baby.”

satoru is grinning. lighthearted, awfully sweet. there’s a certain smugness to it, though, one he couldn’t wash away even if he was aware of it; you wouldn’t do so even if you could. that smugness is a part of him, one that you’d usually find endearing. 

but right now, it only seeks to further your frustration.

it was a stupid fight, truthfully. completely meaningless. satoru had forgotten to pick up after himself for, like, the fourth consecutive time, and so you grew annoyed. not by a lot, but enough that you felt the need to be firm when you reminded him not to make the same mistake over and over again.

but satoru had only grinned, in that self-satisfied fashion of his, and apologized in a way you couldn’t possibly call sincere. then he did what he usually does — promises to work on it. to not do it again. he never follows through, though.

but even that thought wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you truly angry. what really began to irk you was the fact that satoru wasn’t taking you seriously, even in the slightest.

that’s how he always is, when it comes to this kind of thing. and you try to be patient, you do. you try to be understanding. sometimes you even appreciate that he keeps the atmosphere light, but other times, you just can’t help but feel irritated by it.

and the current situation happens to fall into the latter category.

you don’t care if satoru leaves a candy wrapper or two out, every once in a while. of course you don’t. it’s a silly thing to argue about. but would it hurt for him to just listen to you? to try to put himself in your shoes, for once? it’s not about the wrappers, or the undone dishes. it’s about the way he treats you when you complain about it — like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t matter. even if it obviously does, to you.

so, gradually, the topic of your little argument began to shift, into a conversation about satoru. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to talk about the things that bother you in a serious fashion. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to take you seriously.

and he just keeps proving your point, with every word that falls from his lips.

at this point, you’re genuinely beginning to feel a little angry. but satoru doesn’t see that as the warning sign it is — he just thinks it’s cute. he’s just been cooing at you, this whole time, despite your numerous attempts to actually explain how much his behavior affects you sometimes. it feels a bit like talking to a wall. satoru keeps on teasing you, even as you try to be firm about your point, and only brushes you off with empty promises to do better and more unneeded comments about how much he wants to hug you when you pout like that.

and you falter, a little. of course you do. you’re weak to satoru. weak to his words, that sweet voice of his, that pretty grin. but that only makes everything worse, because if you let yourself look even a little bit flustered at his comments, he sees that as his cue to continue.

you don’t even know if he’s doing it on purpose, at this point. is he doing it because he knows it’ll annoy you, or does he genuinely not understand that you’re upset? you’d like to think that there’s no malicious intent behind it, but can’t he see how troubled you are? you don’t get it. you don’t get him, and that frustrates you most of all. satoru can be so goddamn convoluted, sometimes.

so you simply can’t help but feel annoyed. angry, even. how long have you been arguing for, at this point? you’re not sure. but you feel the frustration inside of you grow, as the minutes tick by, into something you know will eventually explode.

a sigh falls from your lips, deep and exasperated. a little bit exhausted. “i’m serious, satoru. you’re not even listening.”

“i am!” he protests, stubbornly. childishly. “you just look so cute when you’re all mad. not my fault you’re so distracting.”

satoru smiles, voice sugar sweet, but all you can do is frown. does he really think it’s cute that you’re upset? the thought makes you somewhat sad. but you can’t show that, can’t let that part of you win — you don’t even want to think about the possibility of you crying, because of this. yeah, no way in hell. 

so instead, you channel it into anger. as the blood inside your veins comes to a boiling point, you dig your nails into the skin of your palms, gnawing at your bottom lip and shifting from one foot to another.

”satoru, i’m —” another sigh, sharp and vexed like the blade of a knife. ”i’m trying to have a serious conversation, here. can’t you see that i’m upset?”

satoru takes a moment to look at you, from behind the black glass of his shades.

he can. of course he can see that. you’re frowning, and there’s a crease between your brows, and you keep huffing and sighing every three seconds — you’re obviously, undoubtedly upset. and satoru wants to take you seriously, he does. it’s just that the part of his brain that only ever wants to coddle and tease you keeps persuading him not to.

he’s not lying, either; you do look cute. almost too cute to take seriously, when you’re pouting so sweetly, a little red in the face from all the frustration bubbling inside your chest. you look so small, glaring up at him like an angry puppy. 

satoru can’t help but smile. it’d be impossible not to.

and he will listen to you, will take you seriously. he knows you’re angry, knows you’re upset, and he intends to deal with that properly. but he doesn’t need to do it right now.

just a little more teasing, before he has to stop beating around the bush. satoru dreads it, a little bit, dreads having to genuinely be serious, be open and apologetic. it always feels so strange, so discomforting. 

all that stuff can wait until later. for now, he just wants to see you blush a little more, huff and puff at his limitless affection, that he knows you love deep down. where’s the harm?

(and therein lies the problem. satoru is observant, and typically good at seeing the line that he shouldn’t cross when it comes to you. but there are times when he slips up, times when he doesn’t realize that his words have begun to sting. times when the line becomes blurry, because he knows some part of you enjoys the way he babies you, and sometimes it blinds him to the part of you that doesn’t.)

satoru is smiling. it’s the same as always — big, bright, glazed over with honey-sweet adoration. smug and teasing. it’s such a satoru-like smile that it makes your breath hitch, sometimes, makes your heart race with wonder. but now all it does is annoy you. everything you love about satoru is annoying you, right now. 

in your eyes, that pretty smile of his seems almost taunting. like he’s trying to pick a fight with you, trying to make you even more upset. you don’t want to blow up over something like this, you really really don’t — but for some reason, you feel dangerously close to. it’s not like you at all.

you bore into his eyes with a cold glare, even though you can’t exactly see them with his shades in the way. posture straight and rigid as you try to make yourself look bigger. you must look at least a little bit menacing, like this. right?

“i’m seriously angry with you,” you say, hoping your voice sounds as austere to his ears as it does to yours. “don’t you get that?”

satoru coos, unable to hold the sound back. he doesn’t notice the flicker of hurt in your eyes, only focusing on how the sunset rays frame your figure, kissing your skin with sun-soaked fervor. you look so pretty. and that angry look on your face is too tantalizing not to tease.

“aww,” he croons, inching closer to you. there’s a teasing glint in his eyes that you can’t see, unmistakably fond. “is my little baby that upset?”

you blink. his voice sounds even more sugar-sweet now, obviously exaggerated. there’s amusement there, too — like this is just one big joke to him. you think he must be doing it to belittle you, to embarrass you. speaking to you like you’re some kind of grumpy toddler, and not a grown adult trying to have a serious conversation with their partner. your blood boils, boils, boils.

— and so the cup overflows.

“oh, go fuck yourself.”

it’s almost in a hiss that the words fall from your lips, cold and harsh; they leave the confines of your throat before you have a chance to reconsider them, sudden and sickeningly heavy. crude, too. you’d never be so crass with him under normal circumstances.

but you’re overwhelmed, thoroughly and completely, and satoru is being particularly infuriating. you genuinely feel hurt by the way he’s disregarding your feelings, and that realization stings more than anything. 

so you can’t help but say the words, louder than you meant to, before turning on your heel swiftly and walking out of the room. 

you don’t even have time to register what you’re doing, legs moving on their own before your mind can catch up. brisk and heavy steps carry you to the door, all while you furiously attempt to blink away the tears of frustration that begin to form in your eyes.

it only takes a second for you to grab your jacket — then you’re out.

satoru hears the front door close, echoing off the walls of your apartment. you don’t quite slam it shut, but you close it with more force than usual, and he can’t help but inwardly wince.

a moment passes. 

then, he flops down on the couch, lanky arms and legs dangling uncomfortably off the edges. the groan that slips from his lips is muffled by the soft cushion as he burrows his face into it, while replaying your interaction inside his mind.

satoru can’t help but feel uncomfortable, with this conclusion. a little bit irked. a vague something rests inside his chest, something he doesn’t quite want to admit to feeling. it makes him feel a little bit sick.

(”oh, go fuck yourself.”)

he can’t recall you ever raising your voice at him like that. when it comes to him, you’re usually so patient; soft, understanding, gentle. for you to have snapped in such a way — to have stormed out of the apartment in your anger — he must have pushed you pretty far.

satoru sighs.

he really pissed you off, huh?

(he can never quite seem to get this right, can he?)

it was never his intention to make you genuinely mad. he just lost sight of the line, for a second. that’s all.

and maybe he was also trying to avoid the issue, trying to avoid actually arguing with you. because he hates it. he hates it more than anything. satoru would much rather see you smile and blush than act all serious and sad. 

he just wanted to make you laugh.

was it insensitive? yeah, probably. he just can’t help but fuck this up, it seems. now he’s gone and made you angry — and as much as the sight would usually thrill him, as cute as you look when you’re irritated, a pit of anxiety settles in his gut. everything just feels wrong.

more than anything, satoru feels restless. because, right now, there’s nothing he can do. he can’t chase after you, even if just to apologize — that’d make you even angrier.

he knows he needs to give you space. you were obviously overwhelmed; some fresh air will do you good.

it irks him, though. satoru wants to fix it. he always wants to fix everything, before it even breaks. and even now, all his mind can do is spin in circles, wondering how he could possibly cheer you up.

he’ll just have to apologize, when you get back. and hope you forgive him. maybe he can get you something sweet to munch on, or a bouquet of flowers. would that make everything okay again?

satoru doesn’t know. so he just scratches his head, and tries his damndest not to think of how defeated you looked before leaving.

your steps are heavy, dragging you forward, leading you somewhere you have no knowledge of. it’s chilly out, and the sun is already setting.

everything in the world feels so wrong. like it’s tilted slightly to the left, like the earth stopped spinning around its axis. like everything suddenly lost its saturation. 

you just needed to get away from him, for a while. away from that smug smile, that patronizing tilt of his voice. you couldn’t even stand to be in the same apartment as him. it’s not often you feel that way, not often at all. 

and it only increases your growing frustration. 

you are beginning to calm down, though — you know you are. the crisp evening air and the pleasant mingle of people soothes your muddled senses, smoothing down the crease of your brow and the ache in your chest.

a heavy discomfort, and a growing guilt. that’s all you can feel, as the anger slowly seeps out of you, turning into vapour with every exhale of your breath.

you hate arguing with satoru. you hate it more than anything. the guilt clawing at your chest barely leaves any room for anger — you almost yelled at him. just the thought of doing that to satoru makes you want to cry.

because you love him, at the end of the day, even when he’s being absolutely insufferable. he’s a sweetheart, your sweet boy, always trying to lighten the mood and make you smile. maybe you should have been a bit more understanding; you know satoru’s bad at this stuff, bad with emotions and vulnerability. and deep down, you know he’d never hurt you, not on purpose.

he probably just didn’t realize that you were genuinely upset. it’s a mistake that anyone could make.

but it just makes you feel so frustrated. like he’s not even looking at you. always hiding behind those shades, never opening up. never letting you see him wear anything but a smile. you want him to take it slow, open up to you at his own pace, but that doesn’t make the wait sting any less.

it’s not like you were asking for a lot. first, you simply asked him to pick up after himself. the way you do, the way anyone does. then, you simply asked him to treat you with respect.

a sudden pang of bitterness runs through your chest. sure, you could’ve handled it all better — but he could have, too.

every step you take hits the pavement with an irritated kind of decision. whatever. whatever. for now, you don’t want to think about it — all you want is to walk around and take in the sights, enjoy the peace and quiet.

so that’s exactly what you do.

before you know it, the sun has set, and the moon has risen — shining down and painting the streets in a mesmerizing blue, ephemeral and tranquil. it’s enough to give you some peace of mind, as you lurk around familiar streets, soaking in all the open space. so different from that suffocating apartment, and the man inside it, with that shit-eating grin and those breathtaking eyes.

(he’s called you, a couple times. you haven’t been gone for long — an hour or so, you think, maybe two. some part of you wanted to answer, just to hear his voice through the phone, but the part of you that’s still awfully irritated shut that down immediately. so, stubbornly, you just let it ring.)

the streets are empty, and the sky is dark. the light of all the lampposts illuminate your way, along with the soft flicker of the moon and stars. an endless galaxy stretches out before your eyes, little pale dots of stardust shining like jewels.

an ever-lasting, never-changing sky, that continues on for infinity. limitless. all the space you could possibly want, and then some.

for a moment, you can only look at the glittering stars in wonder, soaking in the feeling of absolute solitude. 

— it doesn’t last, though.

“you alone?”

a sudden voice calls out from behind you. close, discerningly so, enough to make you flinch. you curse yourself for not noticing anything sooner, caught up in looking at the starry sky, in angling your phone to take a picture of it.

hesitantly, you turn your gaze towards the sound — wincing under your breath when you see the man a couple steps away from you. he looks a little crazed, you think, shifting from foot to foot and hunching over. 

oh fuck no.

great, just what you needed. that’s just your luck, isn’t it? your brain can only spin in circles, trying to get your body to react, to run. to do literally anything except just stand there like a deer caught in headlights.

in your nervosity, all you manage is a painfully awkward laugh, as you stutter out a halfhearted response.

“oh — no, i’m just waiting for my boyfriend!” you smile, unconvincingly. your face must be soaked in unease. whatever he wants with you, it can’t be anything good.

at least you said that one word clearly — boyfriend. you can only hope it’s enough to scare him away.

but the man only shifts a little more, emitting a gruff kind of hum, not saying anything else. your spine tingles with apprehension. every cell in your body wants you to leave. he seems a little intoxicated, you think, and the thought only stirs the anxious feeling in your chest further.

god. why does this have to happen to you? why now?

thankfully, you’ve got your phone in hand. as your mind scrambles for solutions, your fingers tap at the screen, urgently scrolling through your contacts. in such a frightened state, your acting must be positively awful, but you make a vague attempt. not like you’re getting any oscars for this, either way.

“sorry — he’s calling me now!” you stammer out, taking a step away from the man. he doesn’t make a move to follow you, so you take your chances and press your phone to your ear, feet carrying you forward with haste.

in your fear, you don’t think twice about calling satoru — but you can’t help but internally wince at the decision, as the anxious patter of your own heart resounds in your ears.

how are you supposed to talk to him, exactly? what are you supposed to say? hey, i know i just told you to go fuck yourself, but will you hear me out? i need your help. 

and you do. you do need his help. all you want is for him to swoop in, to take you in his arms, your knight in shining armor.

satoru’s said it to you, before — that if you need anything, anything at all, you can come to him. that you can always, always lean on him, without exception. 

you know that he likes helping you. likes it when you open up to him, when you put your trust in him. when you aren’t afraid to ask for his help.

so despite everything, you hold your phone to your ear, walking away with brisk steps and praying that he’s not petty enough to ignore your call like you did to his.

back home, satoru is still resting on the couch, tapping his feet and trying to distract himself. 

he’s a little anxious. it’s dark out, and you’re not answering any of his calls. when you’re out of sight, like this, he can’t help but feel a little helpless — worried about everything that could happen to you. but it’s not like he can force you to pick up. 

you’re probably at a friend’s house, or something. telling them all about what an asshole your boyfriend is. as much as the thought stings, satoru hopes it’s true; it’s all he can comfort himself with. anything is fine as long as you aren’t out walking alone, in the cold, in the dark.

entirely caught up in his spiralling thoughts, satoru almost flinches when the phone rings. laying on the table in front of him, just within arm’s reach. it only takes a second for him to react as his gaze flits to the bright screen, and he sees the contact name, the many heart emojis littering it.

with a start, satoru jumps up. his back straightens out, and his hand flies to grab the phone — he’d feel embarrassed at his own eagerness, but right now he just can’t help it. even under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t let the phone ring more than twice, always giddy to hear your voice whenever possible. 

this time, however, he does falter slightly.

he takes a split second to simply stare at the phone in his hand, at the affectionate contact name. what is he supposed to say to you, exactly? how is he supposed to act?

satoru doesn’t know, but as if afraid that you’ll change your mind and stop the call, yourself, he opts to simply answer. he’ll just have to figure out what to say on the fly.

(unfortunately, satoru’s instinctual response to anything is either smugness or playfulness.)

“well, well. look who finally decided to pick up.”

you’re the one who called him, not the other way around — but satoru can’t be bothered with small details like that right now. he only hopes you don’t notice the faint nervosity in his voice, the stiffness as he tries to sound unbothered.

you don’t notice anything at all, mind far too muddled, too clouded by fear. all you can do is take a deep breath, desperately trying to grasp control over your wavering voice.

“— satoru?” you call out, voice meek and frail. the man in question notices it immediately, sitting up a little straighter, but before he can say anything you continue. “i’m sorry, i just — are — are you still at home?”

there’s an anxious tilt to your voice, one that’d be impossible for satoru to miss. your words are a little breathy, spoken in a fast tempo, and he feels a sudden dread crawl up his spine.

something is wrong, his senses alert him.

“yeah,” he hums, trying to hide the turmoil in his own voice. “why? is everything okay?”

the line is quiet, for a second. “it’s just —“ an exhale, as you once again attempt to steer your voice in a less nervous direction. “just… some creepy guy tried to talk to me. i told him i was waiting for my boyfriend and now i’m walking away from him but he’s still following me.” another exhale, as you worriedly sneak a glance over your shoulder. ”i just — i don’t know what to —”

“where are you?”

satoru cuts you off, voice eerily serious. his gaze turned cold the moment he heard creepy guy, legs moving him towards the coat rack by the front door as if on autopilot. 

he’s already left the apartment by the time you answer, looking around you meekly.

“i… don’t know,” you sigh. “i’m not far. i walked past that one crêpe stand by the park but then i, like… continued up that street? and now i don’t really know where i’m going.”

you continue, a little exasperated as your gaze flits around the dark street. attempting to recall your steps, a difficult task with how on edge you feel. “i’ll try to look for a sign, or something,” you gulp. “… i’m sorry. i just wanted to get away from him.”

satoru’s voice is comforting, when he speaks, eager to console you. grounding and soft. “hey, it’s okay. i’m heading there now, alright?” he smiles, hoping you’ll hear it in his voice. “i’ll be there before you know it.”

you do hear it, and his words ease a little of the anxiety in your chest, despite your fear. “okay.” 

the line grows quiet, again, and your brows furrow in worry. “can — can i keep talking to you?” you ask, uncertain. a little pitiful. ”please?”

“of course,” satoru answers, instantaneous. he’s already making his way towards the crêpe stand with decision in his steps, mentally scanning the area ahead. despite his own anxiety at the situation, he attempts to sound as secure as he can possibly manage, desperate to soothe the worry in your voice.

“try to relax for me, okay? nobody’s gonna hurt you. not while i’m here.”

his words are absolute, as he consoles you. he sounds so sure of himself, so much that you can’t help but believe in his words. so you nod, emitting a weak hum when you remember he can’t see you.

“can you tell me what you see, baby?”

“uhh…” you look around, blindly, trying to find some sort of meaningful hint around you. “there’s like… some toy shop?” 

satoru only hums. “can you check your location on your phone?” 

you blink. 

of course. why on earth didn’t that cross your mind before? 

“oh — yeah — fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i didn’t —“ you sigh, heavy. “hold on.”

following satoru’s instructions swiftly, your gaze scans over the screen. he waits, patiently, already heading past the park and up ahead. as soon as you succeed in finding the name of the street, you echo it to him.

satoru sighs, a little relieved. “okay,” he hums. “i’m not that far away. i’ll be there soon.” he only hopes his words can soothe your fear, even a little. “is he still following you?”

you glance behind you, and meet the gaze of the stranger. just like you were afraid of, he’s still following you — if anything, he seems to have gotten a little closer. with a jolt, your heartbeat picks up.

“yeah,” you gulp. 

satoru’s chest tightens. he emits a low hum. “just hold on. i’ll hurry.”

focusing only on the tilt of satoru’s voice, you try to calm your breathing. you just want to see him. the thought of doing so is the only thing keeping your trembling ribcage intact, at this point. 

you swallow a shaky breath.

“thanks, toru.”

a sudden pang of ache sprouts in satoru’s chest, like thorny vines curling around his ribcage. his heart hurts. you sound so scared, so very small. 

this is all his fault, he thinks. all of it. he got too careless; none of this would’ve happened if he had only been more considerate. if he had just stopped you from leaving and apologized, or hadn’t upset you in the first place. then he wouldn’t have to hear that scared little voice, wouldn’t have to imagine your body shaking like a leaf in the cold night. so far away from him. 

but satoru can’t beat himself up over it, not yet. there’ll be more than enough time for that later. for now, he needs to get to you — that’s the only thing on his mind.

so he lets his feet carry him forward, running towards your location with bated breath. he’s sure you can hear it, through the phone, even though he tries to contain it.

the sound consoles you, if anything. it reminds you that satoru is there, that he’s on his way. that there’s no need to be scared. 

but you can’t help but freak out, a little, when you hear the man call out from behind you.

“hey!” he slurs, stumbling towards you with unsteady steps. his voice is loud, angry, and it sends your mind reeling into panic mode.

a flinch overtakes your body, before you stumble forward, walking even faster than before. you’re almost running now, breath hitching as you gulp. satoru hears it all — your panic, the echo of the man. his own tempo picks up.

“baby, calm down, okay?” he consoles you, voice concerned and honey-sweet. “just keep walking. i’m almost there.”

“sorry —“ you squeak out, between flurry breaths. breathing uneven, laboured and anxious. but you try your best to calm down. “‘s just scary.”

it almost feels physical, the way it irks him. satoru wants to pull you close, more than anything, but he can’t. and that just makes the calamity inside his chest grow, clawing at his ribcage as if trying to escape, to go to your side. 

(he never, ever wants to hear that kind of fear in your voice again.)

“i know,” he soothes. “you’re doing good, honey. listen — he’s not gonna touch you. i won’t let him. you have nothing to be scared of.”

you nod, even as you exhale a shaky breath. ”i know.” 

and you do. you know there’s a truth, to satoru’s words, one that’s never failed you before.

because satoru is your safe space, at the end of the day — he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and sometimes he’s bad with emotions. but he tries, you know he does. and, more than anything else, you know that he’ll always, always be there when you need him. he’ll always be there to protect you. 

and a part of you is sure that everything will be okay, as long as he’s around.

(it’s easy to forget how trustworthy satoru really is, how much he cares. how dependable he is. and how serious he can get, when he truly needs to be, despite his childishness. it’s moments like these that remind you of that.)

but it’s still scary, at the end of the day. you can’t help but feel uncomfortable, a little lost in the world. because you and satoru just fought, you just told him to go fuck himself, and yet here he is. running to your side, in the middle of the night, because you’re scared and alone and you need him.

the man continues to shout, behind you, muttering curses you can’t quite make out. you look over your shoulder nervously, steps hurried.

and satoru runs like a man possessed, through the moonlit streets, gaze scanning the area like a wild beast. his most visceral instinct is screaming at him, tugging at his flesh and bones, desperate to protect you. to comfort you. to wash all your worries away. 

as he makes a sharp turn, he momentarily stops the movement, halting to look around. he thinks he must look a little crazed, with the moonlight illuminating his eyes, but he couldn’t care less.

especially not when his gaze lands on a certain person, further down the street — small and alone.

your eyes meet his.

with the darkness of the street, it’s hard to make anything out, but the light of the lamppost helps. though even without it, satoru’s sure he’d know it was you, just from the sensation that unfurls in his chest as his gaze lands on your figure. 

an audible sigh of immense relief falls from his lips, and his tense shoulders relax, eyes softening just a tad. he hears a similar noise coming from the phone in his grasp, and he assumes that means you recognize him too. not bothering to end the call, he puts it in his pocket, walking over to you with brisk steps. 

you stumble towards him, yourself, the worried crease between your brows now smoothed away. the closer he gets, the faster you move, until you can see the blue of his eyes. two pocket-sized moons.

satoru swoops you in for a hug before either of you can say anything.

he cradles you close, awfully close, so close you can hear his heavy breathing against your ear. it tickles your neck, along with his soft hair, and you shiver. his fragrance envelops your senses, a blend between fresh laundry, strawberries and some expensive cologne. your favorite scent in the world. 

and suddenly, the world is devoid of danger. nothing can get to you while satoru’s there. all that exists is you, and him, and the soft flicker of the moon.

satoru squeezes you tightly, ensuring himself over and over again that you’re safe. he might be squeezing you a little too tight, but he can’t bring himself to think about that just yet.

finally, that growing calamity inside his chest is satiated. winding down at the feeling of you pressed up against him, the indisputable proof that you’re okay. with you in his arms, satoru feels like everything is alright, again.

the fear inside his chest, so foreign it leaves him shaken to the very core, finally begins to dissipate too. he doesn’t think there’s anything that makes him feel quite as hopeless as the thought of not being there for you when you need him. he never wants to feel that fear again. it’s suffocating. it crushes his lungs.

all he can do is hold you close, his big palm smoothing down your hair, the back of your head, your spine. warm and comforting. keeping you steady against him. he can feel your heartbeat, rapid and anxious, so fast that his heart aches. satoru is eager to soothe you, eager to make it go away.

”i’m here, baby,” he breathes, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. ”you’re safe now.”

the words are spoken softly, right by your ear, and you exhale a shaky breath. you’re bundling up his clothing with your fists, anchoring yourself to him. after a little while, you let go, opting to wrap your arms around his midriff instead. nuzzling into his broad chest, you try to blink away your tears and contain your sniffles.

you nod against him, and satoru kisses the crown of your head.

and, finally, his gaze strays. it falls farther down the street, until it lands on a certain man — shifting from one foot to another. watching you both in silence.

the calamity inside his chest rouses from its slumber, once more.

satoru makes sure to keep his hands on you, still rubbing your back with one steady palm cradling the back of your head. keeping your face hidden in his chest, safe and secure.

then he raises his head, back straight, full height on display as his eyes meet the stranger’s. he can tell they do, even with the distance, the darkness of the street.

and satoru knows he looks menacing. he knows the light of the lamppost illuminates his figure perfectly, framing his tall stature and broad shoulders. and he knows the moonlight caressing his skin illuminates his face, his cold eyes — blue and uncanny, glowing even brighter than the moon. staring daggers into the man’s soul. if looks could kill, there wouldn’t even be any remains left to find.

the man stiffens, visibly, and satoru delights in it. he doesn’t leave, though, and for a second satoru wonders if he’s really intoxicated enough to come closer — 

but, sure enough, all he does is stagger a little. then he walks away, grumbling under his breath, hands in his pockets.

and satoru isn’t satisfied, with this conclusion. not in the slightest. he wants to run up to the man, wants to hold him up by the throat, wants to tell him off. because he has the nerve to terrorize someone like that, stalk them with intentions he knows can’t be anything but revolting. the nerve to do that to you, of all the people in the world —

satoru doesn’t know if he’s hated anyone quite as much. 

and a part of him wants to make him cower. make him fear for his life, just to make sure he never does anything like this again. leave him with a fear so great it’ll linger for as long as he’s alive.

(and a more animalistic side of satoru, one he doesn’t want to acknowledge, wants to do things that are much, much worse.)

— but you come first. without question, and without exception. he refuses to leave you alone, and refuses to make you look at the man for even a second more. 

so he’ll focus on you, entirely.

he can tell you’re still shaken up, heartbeat pulsating against him, little flutters of life prickling his skin. there’s a desperation in the way you hug his waist, like he could disappear at any moment. like he’ll slip away if you don’t keep him close. the sight tugs at satoru’s heartstrings. 

his first priority is to soothe you, always and forever. so that’s exactly what he does.

satoru smiles. it’s small, in the wake of the situation, but awfully sincere. fingers reaching down to trace over your jaw, he gently urges you to look at him; when you do so, hesitant, he cups your cheek with his palm.

your teary eyes feel like daggers to his heart, an unmistakable proof of his failure. his failure to protect you, to keep you safe and happy. but at the same time, he’s glad, from the bottom of his heart — that you’d let him see you like this. even after everything.

you look very meek, blinking the tears away as you look into his eyes. they’re bright, and comforting. you wonder if he left the shades at home, if he rushed over here so hurriedly that he didn’t think to bring them with him. you’re happy, in any case — the effect they have on you is undeniable. 

you can’t bring yourself to look away, consoled by the flickers of white inside his irises, like fluffy clouds in the blue sky. ever-lasting, never-changing.

satoru tilts his head, smile sweet and understanding. ”that was scary, hm?” 

his voice is tender, somehow so mature. like he’s some older, wiser being, comforting a scared child. it’s so soothing, so very grounding.

squeezing your eyes shut, you can only bring yourself to nod, as you nuzzle back into his chest.

”you’re okay now, honey,” satoru coos, smoothing down your back as you sniffle. an immense softness seeps through his whisper. ”i’ll always be here to protect you.”

there’s a truth to the statement, heavy and pious. like an oath, a pledge, something for you to believe in unquestioningly. you allow yourself to soak in the words, knowing them to be true.

you’re safe, now. there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. satoru’s here, and he’s hugging you, pressing kisses against your shoulder.

but you just can’t stop crying.

when you speak up, your voice is weak, barely above a whisper. close to breaking apart at the seams. too tired after everything to resist the guilt inside your veins, you sniffle, and part your lips.

”i’m sorry i yelled at you.”

satoru stills.

then, his gaze softens, considerably. he hears himself coo, softly, palm smoothing down the back of your head. 

his sweet angel. apologizing to him, when he’s the one who started this whole mess. when you’re still so shaken up. because he let you leave the house angry, because he made you angry in the first place. because he didn’t see how important the discussion was to you.

(“you’re not even listening.”)

yeah. he wasn’t. he didn’t really want to.

an acute sense of shame. an intense guilt. that’s what he’s been trying to push down, all this time. that’s the unnamed something. 

it’s hard for him. to be as sincere as you, as open with his feelings and emotions. as mature. because even in a situation like this, you can swallow your pride and frustration, and apologize. even when you aren’t in the wrong. you’re always the bigger person, always the one to give in first, because he’s too stubborn to do so himself.

next time, satoru pledges, he won’t let you. next time he’ll be the one to swallow his pride.

because, yes, being vulnerable and admitting that he was in the wrong makes him feel a little like he’s being skewered alive — but you’re important to him. he loves you. and he wants you to know how much he trusts you, how special you truly are. 

if he can show you that, by being a little sincere, a little serious, then any discomfort he feels in the process is a small price to pay.

satoru’s lips meet the crown of your head, as he encircles your smaller frame, arms reaching around your neck to pull you close. he rests his jaw lightly on the top of your head, breathing in your scent. ”you have nothing to apologize for, baby.”

a pause lingers between the words he’s already said and the ones he yearns to say, but can’t seem to pull out from within his throat. it takes effort, to squeeze them out; but every time he replays your own apology in his mind, it gets a little easier. he squeezes you lightly before opening his mouth, as if to give him strenght.

“i’m sorry.”

you blink. 

for once, satoru sounds sincere when he apologizes — almost painfully so. bordering on something you think may be nervosity. you try to look up, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but he keeps you hidden in the crook of his neck.

”i was being immature,” he continues, sighing. you don’t know if you’ve ever heard satoru sound so uncomfortable. ”you know how bad i am with this stuff. but i never want to — you know.” 

he makes a gesture with one of his hands, as if that will say the words for him.

“— i didn’t mean to upset you. honestly.” satoru inhales the cold air, in hopes it’ll make him more honest. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

you listen. intently, not missing a word, not a single tilt of his voice. it all sounds so genuine, almost foreign on his tongue. satoru seems to be trying to find the right words, grumbling a little under his breath. 

he’s cute, like this. kind of awkward, but that only makes him cuter. you nuzzle closer to him, comforted by his very existence.

”… i’ll work on it,” he whispers, at last. “i’ll listen to you. i promise. i really, really will.” 

you think satoru’s voice wavers, just a little, when he says his final piece. 

“so please don’t cry.”

this time, satoru doesn’t stop you when you attempt to lift your gaze, loosening his arms around you and raising his head from where it rests on top of yours. 

your eyes meet. satoru is smiling, weakly. he tilts his head, looking at you with something you could only ever describe as love.

”okay?”

such a lovely smile. so painfully genuine. his eyes are on full display, shining in the dark of the night, like splotches of moonlight. like someone stole the moon down to earth, and carved out little pieces to put in his irises. an ethereal hue.

he’s so gorgeous. hair just a tad messy, tousled from all the running he did to get here. cheeks a little red from the cold. when he smiles, his eyes crinkle. but he looks almost pained. 

(he was so, so worried.)

blinking away the tears clinging to your lashes, you simply stare, entirely mesmerized by the sight. satoru’s thumb goes to wipe at your glassy eyes, smoothing away the drops that threaten to fall. you want to engrave his expression into your memory, so you can never forget it. but it’s just a little too much.

so you hide in his chest, once more. the word that falls from your lips is tiny. “okay.”

satoru smiles, kissing the top of your head with a relieved exhale. bathing in your presence, still reeling from his show of vulnerability. he feels a little like he just cut himself open, let you peek inside his ribcage. the night air stings his skin. 

but you’re so warm, hugging him tightly, breathing and heartbeat finally relaxed. 

(he doesn’t mind it, not if it’s you — having you look inside his chest. if you asked, he’d let you build a shelter there. right between his fourth and fifth ribs.)

now that the words are out of his throat, they don’t burn at all. satoru feels a little silly, for being so scared to say them out loud. he knows you’d never use them against him.

all you do is snuggle closer, as if silently conveying your forgiveness.

you stand there for just a little while longer, wallowing in the tender atmosphere. finally, satoru makes a move to leave, and you begin to walk back home.

“sure you’re okay now, baby?”

you nod, exhaling a flurry breath. it turns into vapour in the cold of the air, drifting up and dissipating in the expanding starry sky. “yeah. thanks for coming so quickly.”

“of course,” satoru only says, choking back a yawn. 

your hands are intertwined, and he’s halfheartedly swinging them back and forth. it soothes your anxiety, and satoru’s protective instincts. you know neither of you will slip away, like this.

you shiver a little, subconsciously inching closer to satoru to protect you from the harsh bite of the midnight breeze. he notices, giving you a glance and a tilt of his head. “you cold?” 

“just a little,” you mutter, smiling weakly as you look up at him. ”i’m fine.”

satoru huffs. did you really think he’d be dissuaded by such a weak retort? there’s no way he’s letting you walk around all cold and shivering. 

so you come to a standstill, as satoru begins to shrug off his coat. he refuses to let go of your hand for even a second, making the process slower than usual — your heart flutters a little, as his fingers curl around yours, delicately. 

when he finally gets it off him, he wastes no time in draping it over your shoulders. it’s big on you, warm and soft, shielding you from the chilly air. satoru can’t help but giggle sheepishly, as he always does at the sight — you look so cute. 

“c’mon. let’s go home,” he grins, ruffling your hair teasingly.

satoru doesn’t feel cold, not in the slightest, as he holds your hand tightly. just your presence is enough to warm his bones to the marrow.

the silence between you is comforting and soothing, as you continue to walk. hand in hand, admiring the starry sky. you’re both too tired to speak — but satoru does so, anyway.

“i meant it, y’know.” satoru sounds sleepy, but earnest. ”i really will work on it.”

he doesn’t look at you when he says it, yawning softly and stretching his free arm. gaze fixed on the morning star. 

“oh.” you pause, squirming a little. sheepish. “thank you. i’m sorry that i — i mean.” a sigh. “i probably overreacted a little.”

satoru shakes his head, waving off your guilt. “nah. you’re right. i never want you to feel like i’m not taking you seriously.”

his gaze meets yours, tentatively. his eyes shine like wedding rings. “you mean a lot to me.”

the sincere words manifest themselves as a heavy pressure to your chest, closing in on your heart as if crushing it. it’s a pleasant sensation, though, overwhelming as it is. you’re a little scared that your knees will buckle if he keeps this up, but even if they do, you wouldn’t want him to stop — satoru’s love is terrifically overwhelming when there’s nothing to hide it, when it’s just love and nothing else.

but you’d never reject it. you’d let it crush you to death with a smile on your face.

all you can do is avert your gaze, afraid that you’ll fall into the blue sea of his eyes if you don’t. heavy thumps of blood resound in your ears as your heart beats, warmth spreading throughout your entire body.

“… you mean a lot to me, too.” you echo, holding his hand just a little tighter. warmth rises to your cheeks. “i just felt really frustrated, i guess. like you were looking down on me. i know you weren’t actually, though.”

satoru chews at the inside of his cheek, almost anxiously. “i know i can be a little much sometimes,” he says, tasting the words on his tongue. “and i appreciate you for putting up with that. i’m sorry i let it go too far. i’ll be more considerate.”

your heart stutters in your chest. you’re not sure what to say — the way he forms his words makes them feel so absolute. and you believe him.

“i’ll be more considerate, too,” you echo, looking down at the pavement. “i shouldn’t have blown up like that.” a pause. you mumble, quietly, a little embarrassed. “i shouldn’t have told you to go fuck yourself.”

satoru breathes out an amused huff, chuckling lightheartedly. his eyes carry a teasing glint when they meet yours. “i probably deserved that. no worries.”

“still,” you pout. satoru giggles. 

“we’ll both work on it, then,” he hums, tilting his head to find your gaze. “right?”

you blink. a small smile breaks out across your face. “right.”

satoru swings your hands back and forth, looking awfully happy with himself. you’re proud of him. really.

“oh —“ he says, breaking the sleepy silence once again. “and i’ll stop leaving wrappers around, too.”

this time, you’re the one who huffs out an amused breath. “thank you,” you grin, looking up at him. he thinks the sight is terribly precious.

a yawn leaves your lips, drowsiness sneaking its way into your bloodstream. you’re not sure if it’s due to the dark, or if you’re just a tad exhausted after all the arguing and panicking.

satoru notices, and gets an idea.

“you tired, baby?” he coos, eyes teasing but soft around the edges. “d’you want a piggyback ride?” 

when you give him a look, sleepy and kind of exasperated, satoru grins. you huff out an amused breath, just a tad embarrassed, but it only spurs him on.

so he crouches down, one knee meeting the pavement, letting your hand slip from his. you blink, tiredly, at the loss of contact. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s wearing that lovesick, smug little grin of his. 

”c’mon. your big, strong boyfriend’ll carry you.”

satoru’s feeling playful, you can tell. that’s usually a bad sign — but you can’t deny that you’re tired. and the prospect of getting carried all the way home is eerily tempting. 

your gaze falls on his back, and his broad shoulders. silently, you walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his neck. satoru holds you up by your thighs, and then stands up, jostling you a little; he does so without a hitch, and you’re reminded of how strong he really is. his grip is secure, and you trust him not to drop you, no matter what. 

you let out a content sigh, basking in the chill of the midnight air as you nuzzle your cheek against his soft hair. satoru chuckles.

”my sleepy lil’ sweetheart,” he coos, voice a tad raspy. ”lucky thing you’ve got me, huh?”

there’s a softness to his voice, despite the teasing tilt obscuring it. you can only huff out a breath, somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and cling to him tighter.

satoru will get you home safe. he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and he can be bad with emotions — but you can always, always trust him on that. 

so, with his coat shielding you from the chilly air, and his back warming you up as he carries you back to your apartment, you allow your eyes to flutter shut; enjoying the cozy feeling his presence brings you.

he’ll always be there when you need him.

[withlovemark]

“drivers license”

pairing: jaehyun x reader | genre: angst | words: 11k+

now listening to -> i got my drivers license last week just like we always talked about.

synopsis -> a whirlwind romance with jung jaehyun.

warnings -> minor car crash, cheating, a break-up, might leave behind emotional damage, jaehyun is a coward, +18, crude language, mention of: frat parties, alcohol, make outs, smut! not descriptive but contains: dry humping, jaehyun cumming in his pants, implied oral (f), implied sex.

an -> i cannot believe the day has come where i finally finished this. it’s so embarrassing to say but this took me five years (2021-2025) and it’s not even the proudest thing i’ve written. every time i opened the google doc for this it was like my brain would forget every word in the dictionary. writers block hitting every god damn time. the reason? this entire series started with a member that is no longer part of nct and the issue around him, at the time, hurt me a lot and took me a while to move on from. but hey! time heals. this is here. it’s done! and i love writing for nct again! have fun reading! with love, c.

͙͘͡★

“hey uhh, it’s me, umm by me i mean its y/n by the way, i-well,” you let out a nervous chuckle, “i know this is weird, like really weird. especially since we’re y’know…broken up and all but uhm i just wanted to tell you that i uh…” your voice wavers, you cough once, clear your throat, then barrel forward, rushing through the words as if that’ll make it hurt less, “...finally got my driver’s license,” you finished clumsily.

silence fills the space for a beat too long.

‘this is stupid. what the hell am i doing,’ you think to yourself, realization slowly creeping in.

“-that’s pretty much it, i just,” you sigh, “wanted to tell you...you probably don’t care but yeah um i hope you’re doing well—”

beep.

the voicemail machine rings in your ear, letting you know that you’ve exceeded the amount of time given. you stare at your phone like it personally betrayed you. then it hits you. full force. your eyes widen, jaw dropping.

‘no, no, NO, no fucking way you just called your ex…you absolute dumbass,’ the inner voice in your head ridicules.

“UGHH!” you swore in the comfort of your car, head slamming against the steering wheel as you punched the air around you. if anyone were to see this scene unfold, they would think you were absolutely, batshit crazy.

god, you wished you were. it would be easier to explain.

but no, this was just a side effect of the broken-hearted.

after a while of just wallowing in your pity, you finally accept the fact that you were pathetic. throwing your phone into your bag, you chose the radio over the aux cord, not wanting to see the little devil machine that caused you your entire pride.

“hi, this is olivia rodrigo and you are now listening to my debut single, drivers license.”

‘olivia who?’ you start driving, wondering who the new artist was that was playing in the station you randomly tuned into.

the song starts and you barely register the lyrics until they start pulling on you. you can't help but feel that she had access to your inner thoughts and wrote this song using your heart and soul and diary.

you sit there, frozen behind the wheel, eyes on the road but barely seeing it. your grip on the steering wheel tightens. each lyric landing like a punch to the gut. images flashing behind your eyes of the one and only — jung jaehyun.

the man of the hour.

your first thought in the morning and the one that haunts you at night. you tried to forget. you tried to let go. but how could you, when he gave you so much to hold on to?

the first meeting.

“ouch!” you yelped, instinctively clutching the top of your head where a basketball had just collided…hard.

you turn around, ready to blow up on the person that obviously sucked at basketball.

in what world was the net your head???

but then your eyes locked with his and just like that, every insult evaporated from your mouth — the school’s number one golden boy. star player. campus crush. walking daydream.

and currently jogging towards you, “sorry,” he smiles sheepishly, ears burning red as he retrieves the basketball that landed a few inches away from you.

you blinked once, twice, “uhh, its um… its okay,” you managed to stammer, scrambling to pick up the pieces of your pride that had scattered alongside the ball.

you never really cared for social norms or popularity or any of that status quo bullshit. social ladders were just invisible ropes to nowhere in your mind. but you still knew that jaehyun was way up there, all shining spotlight and untouchable perfection, while you… weren’t even on the pyramid.

and yet, here he was. looking at you.

‘why is he still looking at me?’

before you could think further, jaehyun stepped a little closer, his brows pulling together in concern. and then, as if time itself slowed down, he reached out and cupped the side of your head, your brain short-circuiting.

‘no way. no way jung jaehyun is touching my face right now. this isn’t real. i’m dreaming. i’ve fallen unconscious from the ball and i am hallucinating.’

you felt the weight of a dozen eyes on you, murmurs, a couple of gasps. even his teammates had paused to see what their mvp was doing hovering over some nobody with the gentleness of a disney prince.

your panic response kicked in – you slapped his hand away, wanting to get rid of the attention that was suddenly on you though this action did the exact opposite, everyone now curious as to who you are.

“wh-what are you doing?” you demanded, voice way too high-pitched to be threatening. every curious eye zooming in on you like vultures to a fresh kill. everyone thinking the same thing: who were you to slap the golden boy’s hand?

jaehyun blinked at your reaction, then rubbed the back of his neck, completely unbothered by your swat, “i was just checking to see if you were hurt,” he said casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world to cradle strangers’ heads in public.

“oh uh it's fine!, it doesn’t hurt at all!! no bumps here,” you chirped, hands going straight to your head, an awkward chuckle escaping your lips as he eyes you suspiciously, not quite convinced with your statement.

“see!” you continue, pointing at the top of your head as you bow, earning a laugh from the boy in front of you. you can’t help but look back at him, his deep laughter ringing in your ears. you notice the way his dimples came out to play.

“okay, if you say so,” jaehyun said, eyes twinkling with amusement. “but a little tip…”

“huh?” you were still trying to recover from the dimple attack.

“you probably shouldn’t stand right behind a basketball hoop. especially when people are playing,” he teased, his grin widening like he knew exactly what he was doing to your poor nervous system.

your face burned, “right,” you muttered, wishing the earth would open and swallow you whole.

then he winked. actually winked. before he turned around, casually spinning the ball in his hand as he jogged back to his teammates while you watched him go, still frozen in place, still trying to compute what the hell just happened.

the first car ride.

the rain poured mercilessly, cold needles stabbing through your clothes as you power-walked down the sidewalk, your backpack clumsily perched atop your head in a hopeless attempt to shield yourself.

just your luck. the one day you forgot your umbrella was the day mother nature decided to go full on melodrama.

through the wall of rain, a car pulled up beside you, the hum of the engine barely audible over the storm. then a voice called out, “hey! do you need a ride!?”

you try to peek at the person inside, droplets of rain making your eyes flicker yet you see him in all his glory. you stared for a second too long, internally questioning every life decision that led to this exact moment.

‘now why in the world is he offering me a ride’

you hesitated. the rain was unrelenting, soaking through your hoodie and numbing your fingers, but getting into a car with someone you barely knew, even if he was the school’s walking dream, was a gamble.

sure, he might be the most popular guy in school but the only thing you knew about him was his name and his basketball jersey number, which was 14 by the way.

“you’re not going to kidnap me and then murder me to sell my organs on the black market, right!?” you ask, questioning his motives.

“huh??” the boy yells back.

‘i said!!...” you state your previous statement for the second time, battling with the sound of the loud rain hitting the pavement.

jaehyun blinked. and then…he laughed. a real, full laugh that melted a little of your anxiety.

“well, that’s for you to decide!” he shot back, boyish and harmless, dimples threatening to make you forget all your common sense.

it seems as if the rain won't stop any time soon. so you weigh out your options. possibly die in a handsome stranger's car or walk home and also possibly die in the cold rain? which one sounds like a more peaceful way to go?

fuck it.

you yanked open the door and slid into the passenger seat, shivering as the heater hit your skin like a hug from the sun. the door shut, sealing you in with warmth and the faint smell of clean laundry and something citrusy. you knew right then that you made the correct choice.

jaehyun quickly grabs his backpack from the backseat, taking out a grey hoodie. “here, you should change before you get sick,” he offers.

you raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool, “you know if you wanted to see me naked, you could’ve just asked,” you teased, your playful nature coming out to mask the awkwardness that is you sitting on the passenger's seat of the school’s pride.

he let out a mock grunt, rolling his eyes with a smile as he turned to look out the rain-covered window, “shut up.”

“don’t peek, okay!” you chuckled, noticing the way his ears had turned to a slight shade of pink.

briskly changing into the hoodie that was way too big for you, you turn to the boy at the driver’s seat who’s still keeping himself busy, probably betting which raindrop racing to roll down his car window would win.

“i’m done,” you finally said after admiring him. he turns to you, giving you a soft smile, “the hoodie suits you.”

“thanks for letting me borrow it,” you grinned, matching his reflection.

“i’m jaehyun by the way,” he introduced himself, reaching out his hand.

“i know,” you say casually, realizing how weird it sounded as soon as the words left your lips, “i-i mean! everyone knows the basketball teams mvp!,” you reason as jaehyun nods, completely understanding what you meant.

“uh, im y/n,” you finally say, completing the handshake.

“nice to meet you, y/n,” jaehyun says as he looks at you quizzically.

“what? do i have something on my face??” you gasp, feeling your face for any unwanted substance, your action reminding jaehyun of the person he accidentally threw a basketball at a couple weeks ago.

he smiles after putting two in two together, realizing that you were that same person.

it was a fond memory for him, usually people would worship the ground he walked on but you…you slapped him away. a different reaction from the ones he was used to. ever since that day he hoped to run into you again.

“why are you smiling like that? oh god, is this the part where you admit to killing me??” you gushed, earning a laugh from him.

“are you sure that ball didn’t damage the inside of your brain?” he joked as you sat there registering his words.

“wait..you remember that?” you ask, genuinely confused as to why he would even remember you with all the people that surround him day by day.

“it’s not everyday i hit someone with my ball,” he smirks and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole because that memory is definitely in your top 10 most embarrassing moments and he remembers it.

“to answer your question, no... the ball did not hurt me, i just watch a lot of true crime,” you admit. jaehyun chuckles and you can’t help but join, feeling more at ease with being in his presence.

“and you think i’m really a killer?,” he quips a brow, an amused expression on his features.

‘yeah, your looks are killer’

“with a face like this?” he joked, striking a ridiculous pose, chin tilted up dramatically.

‘exactly’

you let out a giggle, “first of all, don’t ever make that face again, second, it’s always the ones you don’t expect,” you say, talking like a detective. he burst into laughter again, his eyes crinkling, and you realized then and there…you really liked the sound of his laugh. it was easy. real. addicting.

“so y/n… where do i drop you off?” jaehyun shoots you a smile.

“why? so you can know where i live and kill me in the comfort of my own home?” you continue joking around with him.

“you’re unbelievable.” he chuckles as you start directing the way to your apartment.

and as he drove through the rain, one hand on the wheel and the other occasionally tapping the rhythm of the music playing faintly in the background, you looked out the window, only to catch your reflection in the glass, wearing his hoodie, laughing in his car.

you didn’t know it then, but this was the moment everything quietly began.

the proposal.

“remind me again why you’re in college and still don’t have your driver’s license?” the boy asks you.

you looked up from your coffee, eyes narrowing at jaehyun as he sat across from you, chin propped up on one hand, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. the two of you are seated in the campus’ cafe which has quickly become your usual meet up spot. it was halfway between the music room and the laboratories – a perfect place for a medical major and a music major to meet up.

“i don’t need it,” you shrugged, casually stirring your drink with the little wooden stick they gave you, “everything’s within walking distance anyway. and if it’s not, the bus exists.”

he leaned back in his chair, eyebrows lifting in a slow, dramatic arc, “you do realize that you’d save so much more time and money if you had a car, right?”

you sighed, already seeing where this was going. this wasn’t the first time jaehyun had tried to convince you to get behind the wheel, “yeah, but I don’t need it right now,” you shrug.

he shook his head with an exasperated little grin, then set his drink down with a thud and pointed at you, “okay, okay, just imagine this.”

here it comes.

“you finally graduate, top of your class, of course, and you’ve landed the job of your dreams. everyone’s calling you doctor y/n. life is good,” he leaned forward, voice dropping to a mock-serious whisper, “and yet…you still don’t have your own car? that’s kind of lame.”

you let out a dramatic gasp, grabbing your paper straw wrapper and tossing it at him, “first of all, rude. second of all, i will obviously have my license by then!”

“exactly!” he claps, “soooo, wouldn’t it be better if you start practicing now,” he says smirking, knowing that he won this debate.

you crossed your arms, pretending to scowl, “okay, so what do you want me to do about it?”

jaehyun leaned back, acting as though he were pondering the mysteries of the universe before saying, with complete nonchalance, “let me teach you.”

your brow rose immediately, suspicious, “and what do you want in return?”

he sipped his coffee, his expression unreadable, then he smiled, “nothing, i just want more time with you,”

“with me??” you ask in disbelief.

the boy shrugs his shoulders, “yeah, i like hanging out with you.”

your heart thudded, your breath caught in your throat before you quickly masked it with a sip of your drink.

after a few seconds of silence, which jaehyun could argue felt like forever, you finally agreed, “so, what’s the first lesson?”

he lit up, clearly proud of himself, “hmm, how about you just let me drop you off everyday?”

well, now that just did not make sense to you.

you tilted your head, trying to make sense of the logic or lack thereof, “how does that help me learn? that’s literally just you driving me around.”

“visual learning first before i let you behind the wheel,” he responds, “my car is still my baby you know,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and you laugh at the words that slipped by his lips.

and maybe it was stupid. maybe letting jaehyun drive you everywhere was unnecessary. but the way he looked at you, like this tiny, mundane thing mattered just because you mattered, was more than enough for you to agree.

the first lesson.

“brake y/n, step on the brake. brake! brake!! brake!!!,” jaehyun chants like it was a mantra, sending you into panic mode as your brain suddenly couldn’t differentiate which pedal is which.

you shut your eyes instinctively, ready to come into collision with the brick wall that just kept coming closer and closer until the car came to a sudden stop.

for a moment, all you could hear was the hum of the engine and the wild pounding of your heart. your body leaned forward slightly, but something kept your head from slamming into the steering wheel. blinking rapidly, you looked up and saw jaehyun’s arm. his hand had shot out across your seat, pressed firmly against your forehead. his jaw was tight, his breath shallow, but his grip on you had been steady, sure.

“you okay?” he asked after a beat, his voice low and strained.

you took a second to gather yourself before nodding slowly. “yeah, yeah, i think i’m alive.”

jaehyun exhaled and finally pulled his arm back.

“how’d you stop the car, are you like superman or something?” you finally say, breaking the tension in the air.

jaehyun laughs, finally pulling his hand back as he gets cozy in his seat once again, “there’s something called a handbrake, y/n,” he grinned, pointing at the gadget sitting in between the two of you as you let out a silent, “oh.”

the moment dissolved into quiet as you slumped against the seat, defeated, “i told you that driving would be a bad idea!”

jaehyun rolled his eyes but his brows pulled together slightly, and you knew he wasn’t just brushing it off, “y/n… you need to learn how to drive. it’s a basic life skill.”

for the past month, jaehyun has been teaching you how to drive and this past month the only thing you truly learned was that jaehyun was an old soul. apart from basketball, he loved collecting vintage things, loved photography, music, wine, cooking, troy bolton, and you couldn’t help but want to learn more.

“ughhh yeah, yeah i know, you say that all the time,” you replied, glancing at him, “please don’t be mad.”

his expression softened instantly as he turned toward you, “i’m not mad,” he said, ruffling your hair with his usual affection, “just mildly terrified.”

you giggled as he reached for his seatbelt and unbuckled with a sigh. that was your cue. you could finally breathe again as you both clambered out and swapped seats.

the familiar thump of the driver’s side door shutting felt like a reset button, and suddenly the energy between you felt light again, comfortable. you let yourself get cozy in the passenger seat, your favorite seat, as you throw jaehyun your best mischievous grin.

he didn’t look at you. just calmly reached for the gear, put the car in reverse, and smoothly began backing up. one hand rested on the back of your seat, his body turning effortlessly as he scanned the rearview, jawline sharp in profile, lashes thick against the sunlit windshield, his long fingers flexed against the headrest near your shoulder.

you stared unabashedly, “that was so hot. do it again,” you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

jaehyun paused, casting you a sideways glare, “shut up, i’m driving” he muttered, but the corners of his lips betrayed him, the start of a smile curling upward.

you turned toward the window, hiding the smile blooming on your face. outside, the world passed in soft blurs of sunlight and trees, but inside the car, everything felt still, like something fragile and new had quietly taken root between you.

the first time.

“why don’t you ever deny it?”

your voice is soft, almost lost beneath the hum of the night and the low music playing from jaehyun’s car speakers. the two of you sit in the back of his car, the trunk popped open to reveal the night sky. a shared blanket pools around your waists, open snack bags scattered between your legs, the half-empty bottles of beer glinting faintly under the stars.

“deny what?” jaehyun asks, turning towards you, a bag of chips in hand.

you glance away, suddenly shy, “the other day… when johnny told you to bring your girlfriend to the party, and he meant me, you didn’t correct him.”

the scene has been bothering you for quite some time now. sure, you and jaehyun have been spending a lot of time together and you could understand how from an outside perspective, people could think you were dating.

but you weren’t, you were simply just friends.

jaehyun takes a swig of his alcoholic beverage, hesitating to respond, “d-do you not want to be?”

you blink, “wait, what?”

jaehyun chuckles, relieved that he could blame the alcohol for the blush that was forming on his face. he rests his head against the car’s frame, “you know, for someone who can memorize entire anatomy textbooks, you can be really clueless sometimes.”

you scowl at him, ready to shoot back something sarcastic, until he looks at you.

“i like you, y/n.”

the words land heavy and warm in the middle of your chest.

“y-you like me?” you echo, unsure whether to believe it or hold it at arm’s length.

“yeah,” he smiles, but there’s something vulnerable in it, “i like you.”

there’s a beat of silence, like the universe is holding its breath.

“…since when?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“since the day i first met you,” he confesses, turning away and looking up at the stars.

you turn to him, noticing the grin that was displayed on his face and the blush painting his ears and you couldn’t help yourself, it was like your body had a mind of its own and you were no longer in control.

you feel your hands instinctively rise to his face, gently guiding his head to face you. jaehyun watches your every move, almost mesmerized, eyes flickering down to your lips.

your fingers ghost across his cheek, then brush against his lips and that was all the permission he needed.

he leans in slowly, hand cupping your cheek with such care it makes your chest ache. his lips meet yours, soft, cautious, like he’s been waiting forever. you respond instantly, melting into him, letting the kiss deepen, pulling you both under.

the more you kissed him, the more addictive he got.

he tastes like beer and vanilla chapstick. one kiss turns to two. two turns to something needier, hands exploring, hearts thudding. you wanted more. your hands found themselves slightly pulling at the boy's hair as jaehyun changed the position, throwing you over him so that you could straddle him, knees tucked beside his thighs.

forgetting that you guys were still in the comfort of his car, your head makes contact with the roof, breaking off the kiss, “ow,” you whined, hand going straight to your head, making you and jaehyun burst into laughter, breathless and giddy.

“i really gotta stop accidentally injuring you,” he grins, rubbing the spot on your head with sympathy, before bringing his lips up to soothe the pain with kisses.

“i think your car’s trying to keep us in check,” you smile, soft giggles slipping from your lips.

“or it’s warning me before I lose control,” he says, his lips trailing kisses down your jaw.

you meet his gaze, your voice dropping, “what if i want you to lose control?”

you were challenging him and he’s definitely up for it. jaehyun swallows hard, eyes darkening with something deeper than mischief. he doesn’t say a word, just closes the trunk with one smooth motion and takes your hand, guiding you into the backseat with quiet urgency.

this time you straddle him with ease, his lips immediately on yours as his hand wanders all throughout your body. he licks your bottom lip and you give in, parting your lips open to meet his tongue, feeling him smile through the kiss.

“you’re dangerous,” he murmurs, “you really have no idea what you do to me.”

you breathe against his neck, one hand splaying across his chest to feel the rapid beat of his heart, “i think i do.”

rough hands guide your body down until you’re fully sat upon his hard cock, emphasizing the way he needs you. you rock into him once and he cant help but release a groan of pleasure, “my cock is throbbing for you, baby,” the pet name sends your mind into a haze, rocking into him again and again until you’ve set a pace that mixed your moans with his.

“baby, im gonna cum in my pants,” he grunts, turning you on even more.

“you like me that much, huh?,” you tease, not losing your rhythm, and all he could do was grunt in reply as he lost control, releasing evidence on his sweatpants.

you giggle at the effect you had on him, snapping him out of his daze, “what’s so funny, pretty girl?”

“i haven't even touched you yet,” you tease.

“can you blame me?, i've been thinking about this ever since you got undressed in my car,” he confesses and your eyes almost bulge out of the sockets.

“yeah? what else did you think about?,” you taunt him.

“i’ll show you,” he says before gently placing you down his car seat, as he helps you out of your jeans.

the space is small. the car is cramped. but nothing was going to stop him from fitting his large frame in between your legs.

he places a kiss above your panties. your hips immediately react to his actions. he smirks, “you like me this much, huh?” he teases you with your own words.

“jaehyun, please do something,” you whine.

jaehyun pushes your panties to the side, finally giving you what you both wanted.

the first i love you.

“come on, just trust me,” jaehyun whispers in your ear, the warmth of his breath grazing your skin and sending butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach. his voice is low, teasing, calm in a way that only makes you more curious. and more flustered.

“jae, how long are we going to have to drive for?” you whine again, blindfolded with a handkerchief that still smells like his cologne.

“we’re almost there,” he replies, chuckling at your lack of patience.

“ugh finee,” you sigh, slouching in your chair until the car comes to a stop.

“are we he—?,” before you can finish, his lips press against yours in a kiss that completely pushed out all of your thoughts. you freeze in place, lips softening as you instinctively lean into it, feeling the smile tugging at his mouth before he pulls away.

“that’s how much you wanted me to shut up huh?” you smirk.

“nah,” jaehyun chuckles, shifting gears with a casual ease. you can hear the grin in his voice.

“then what was that for?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowing and jaehyun can’t help but chuckle at your expression.

“i just wanted to kiss my girlfriend at a red light, is that a crime?” he teases.

you can’t help the grin that stretches across your face, “nope,” you murmur, “feel free to do it again, whenever.”

this past week of being jaehyun’s official girlfriend has been a dream. you’re not sure how long honeymoon avenue lasts but you did know that you wanted to keep driving down this road as long as jaehyun’s the one sitting in the driver's seat.

the car slows to a stop, and you perk up, “are we he—?”

your question gets cut off by another kiss, this one slower, more lingering, like he just wanted one more moment of you before the surprise.

“you really like interrupting me today,” you whisper, dazed.

“only when I can’t help myself.”

moments later, he’s helping you out of the car, one hand around your back, the other gently clasping yours. you feel the crunch of gravel beneath your feet, the subtle shift in wind telling you that you’re somewhere open, peaceful.

and then he let’s go

“jaehyun?” you ask, the loss of contact making you nervous.

“im here,” he whispers right by your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine.

“are you ready?” he asks. you nod before he carefully unties the handkerchief, finally allowing you to take in the beautiful view right in front of you.

“oh my god,” you awe in admiration, “did you set this all up yourself?”

in front of you lays a yellow checkered picnic blanket, filled with a bunch of your favorite snacks, a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and his guitar seated perfectly on the side. the sky is blue, the birds are chirping, and jaehyun is standing right next to you. you could've sworn you were transported into a fairytale book.

jaehyun rubs the back of his neck, cheeks already pink, “yeah, i know how busy you are and i just wanted you to take a moment to unwind,” he admits, as you turn around facing him, noticing his ears turning that shade of red that you grew to love.

love.

it’s a strong word. but there’s no doubt in your mind that it’s the reason for the butterflies in your stomach. your heart swells so fast it feels like it might burst. you reach for his hand and twine your fingers through his, “you’re unreal, you know that?”

you lean in, brushing your lips against his in a soft, grateful kiss. he responds just as gently, thumb grazing your cheek like he’s memorizing how you feel in his arms.

the world around you seems to fade. no ticking clocks, no deadlines, no chaos. just you, him, and the way time stands still when your lips meet.

when you finally break apart, he smiles at you like he’s the luckiest boy alive, “come on, sit. i’ve got one more surprise.”

“oh god. what could top this?,” you smile.

he settles onto the blanket, pulls his guitar into his lap, and glances at you nervously, “i uh… wrote you a song.”

your eyes widen, “you what?”

“i wrote you a song,” he says more confidently this time, grabbing his guitar. you can literally feel your heart thumping out of your chest like they do in those cartoon shows and you wonder if he can hear how loudly it’s beating.

and then he sings.

the words are sweet. honest. every line is a little window into his heart, filled with shy glances, secret hopes, and the quiet moments he never had the courage to tell you about until now.

as soon as he plucked the last chord, there were only three words that could slip past your lips.

“i love you.”

it slips out before you can second-guess it. and for a split second, your heart stops. maybe it’s too soon. maybe you’ve ruined something.

but then jaehyun’s entire face lights up, eyes crinkling, dimple forming, grin stretching from ear to ear.

“i love you too,” he says, like he’s been holding it in for far too long.

you don’t even let him finish before you’re leaning in, pulling him into a kiss that says everything your words can’t.

seven months in heaven.

heaven. that’s what it felt like to be consumed by jung jaehyun. the kind of love that didn’t creep in slowly but crashed over you like a wave, sudden, wild and all-consuming.

month one. you were like two peas in a pod, stuck together at the hip. everywhere you went, he was there. almost like gravity had shifted and you couldn’t help but orbit each other. the whole campus watched the two of you. some in envy, some in awe. but none of it mattered because in your world, it was just you and him.

you clung to him like a koala, constantly reaching for him — his hand, his hoodie, his attention. and he absolutely adored every second of it. adored you.

he picked you up after every class, waiting at the door like he belonged there. he drove you home with one hand on the wheel, the other in yours. played your favorite songs, and teased you when you tried to sing along off-key.

most nights, he stayed over. his skin wrapped around yours like a second layer of warmth. and when he didn’t, you’d fall asleep in one of his shirts, phone resting on your chest after hours of late-night calls. his voice the last thing you heard before drifting off.

month two. you stopped saying me and started saying we.

there was a toothbrush for him, right next to yours, in your apartment. and a matching one in his dorm. you had a growing collection of his hoodies in your closet. he pretended not to notice but his smile gave him away every time you wore one.

you know all of his schedules and he memorized yours without trying. you’ve cancelled plans just to stay in, legs tangled on the couch, sharing dreams like secrets under warm blankets and future plans whispered between kisses.

it started to feel like a forever kind of thing.

month three. you were still coasting down honeymoon avenue, but now it came with the deeper things.

late night vulnerability, childhood stories, the fears he never told anyone else, the ones you didn’t even know you could speak aloud.

you shared each other’s pressure. shared each other’s troubles. you were there when things got too much, becoming his personal safe haven and you, his.

when the world was too loud, too cruel, too overwhelming – you had each other. that was all you both needed.

month four. i love you wasn’t just something you said. it lived in your actions. it was jaehyun massaging your hands after a long day. you memorizing his coffee order down to the way he liked the foam. the way he always buckled your seatbelt for you.

his car playlists was filled with songs you love. there are pieces of you in the compartment box, a lipgloss, a scrunchie, a tiny pouch filled with your basic essentials.

your fridge was filled with his favorite snacks, his favorite beer. love letters on sticky notes he would leave behind tuck in between the magnets.

and on quiet nights, you fell asleep on his lap as he traced your face with his fingertips like he was trying to memorize you forever. he looked at you like you were a poem he never wanted to stop reading.

and one night he whispered in your ear, “it’s you and me forever, baby.”

and you believed him.

month five. things got a little quieter. not in a bad way. just…settled.

less adrenaline and more comfort. routine settled in but you liked it. you liked knowing he’d be there. you liked how he could tell when you were anxious just by your breathing.

he’d squeeze your thigh gently under the table during group dinners just to comfort you.

you’d look at him and feel like you were home. he was home.

month six. fights began, but they were soft.

little misunderstandings. jealousy here and there. moments where your insecurities brushed up against his.

but every argument ended the same way. his forehead against yours, apologies and i love you’s slipping out between sighs. he’d kiss your temple like he was sealing a wound and you’d forgive him. of course you would.

and besides, his red flags weren’t red. they were beige. soft, muted, easy to overlook in the warmth of everything else.

month seven. you got busy. he got anxious. texts were left on read a little longer. calls ended faster.

but when you were together, it still felt like heaven. his touch still sets you alight. your laugh still made him smile like it was the first time he’d heard it.

he’d still looked at you like you were everything.

and that was enough. wasn’t it?

the first real crack.

“babe, i think we’re lost,” you say, your voice gentle but laced with nervous laughter, trying to keep the mood light.

your eyes flick toward jaehyun, who’s gripping the steering wheel tighter than before, taking yet another left at a stop sign that looks hauntingly familiar.

the sun was already beginning to set, washing the sky with orange and purple hues, but instead of basking in its beauty, the two of you were trapped in an unfamiliar neighborhood, google maps stubbornly rerouting with every turn.

you peek at him from the passenger seat, watching the way his jaw tightens.

“would it kill you to give the right directions for once?” he mutters, not even looking at you.

the sentence lands heavier than it should. it isn’t just about directions. you know that. and maybe he does too.

your smile fades as you blink at him. “sorry…i thought i was.”

he exhales through his nose, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. “you always think you’re right, even when you’re not.”

and there it is. not a yell. not a fight. but something colder. detached. dismissive.

it’s the way he says always like it’s not just this moment but a flaw in your character. something he’s been cataloging along the way.

it’s silent. the kind of silence that doesn’t feel peaceful. the kind that buzzes in your ears and makes your chest feel too tight. you look out the window, trying to calm your breathing, trying not to let the sting behind your eyes turn into tears.

you’ve had fights, sure. arguments over little things, forgotten plans, mixed signals, late replies. but he’s never spoken to you like that before. never made you feel small.

you’ve seen jaehyun tired. you’ve seen him frustrated. but not like this. not with this edge. and for the first time since the two of you got together, you realize that love doesn’t shield you from moments like these. that even someone who sings you songs and holds you gently through the night can sound distant and cold.

eventually, he pulls over and cuts the engine. the car humming in the silence.

“baby,” he calls out, softer now, quieter. you don’t answer. just stare out the window.

he leans back against the headrest, rubbing his hands over his face, “i didn’t mean that,” he murmurs, voice heavy with regret.

still, you don’t respond. because maybe he didn’t mean it but he still said it and part of you wonders what else he’s thought and never voiced.

he sighs, “i’m sorry...i just, i’ve had a long week, and i wanted today to go perfectly and now we’re lost and running late and…” he trails off, frustration melting into guilt.

“you snapped at me,” you say finally, still not looking at him, “and i didn’t deserve that.”

“no, you didn’t,” he agrees. “i was out of line.”

you finally turn to face him and he looks… regretful. like he wants to rewind time. like he’s already punishing himself.

“i love you,” he adds, almost like a plea.

you nod slowly, your voice quiet. “i love you too, but don’t talk to me like that again.”

“i won’t,” he promises.

and you believe him. you always do.

but something unspoken lingers in the car after that. a sliver of tension that stays with you. because no matter how many i love you’s follow, you don’t forget the first time someone makes you feel like you’re too much.

jaehyun reaches across the console and gently takes your hand. you let him. and the car keeps driving, this time in silence, but with your fingers laced together like a quiet truce.

it’s the first real crack.

but sometimes, the cracks let everything else in.

the blonde.

frat parties were never your scene. sticky floors, booming bass, red solo cups, and bodies pressed too close together, it all felt too loud, too overwhelming. you haven’t been in one in a while but since your boyfriend was one of the frat’s favorite golden boys and the fact he practically begged you to come to the one tonight, here you were, weaving your way through the crowd in one of his oversized hoodies, searching for the only reason you even showed up.

you spot him before he sees you, standing dead center in the living room, drink in hand, laughing at something the girl in front of him said. giving her the dimpled smile you thought was only reserved for you.

she’s tall. blonde. pretty, in that effortless, dangerous way. the kind of girl you never learned how to be.

and her hand is on his arm. too familiar. too comfortable. she laughs again, tilting her head back, fingers tracing his bicep like it belongs to her. like she’s done it before. like she knows he won’t stop her.

he doesn’t flinch. doesn’t pull away. just smiles, lazy and amused as she leans in closer, lips brushing his ear as she whispers something that makes him laugh again.

your stomach churns.

it’s irrational, maybe. but also, maybe it’s not. maybe it’s the way her hand lingers too long. or the way he leans in like he doesn't even notice. or maybe it’s the way it makes you feel invisible in a room where you were supposed to be his favorite person.

then he sees you. his eyes meet yours through the crowd. locking for just a second. and something in his expression falters, like he didn’t expect to see you. like he forgot you’d be here.

and suddenly, you’re the one who looks away. like you’re the intruder. like you’re the one who was doing something wrong.

moments later, his arms snake around your waist from behind, “hey baby,” jaehyun murmurs in your ear, voice low and thick with alcohol, “you came.”

his breath is warm against your skin as he presses wet, messy kisses along your jaw and down your neck. he smells like whiskey and whatever cheap cologne she was probably wearing. his grip tightens like he’s afraid you’ll slip away but your body stays stiff in his hold.

you twist slightly to face him, placing a hand on his chest, a quiet boundary.

“who was that?” you ask, trying to sound casual, light, but the slight edge in your voice betrays you.

“hmm?” he hums, lips still trailing your skin.

“the girl. the one you were talking to.”

he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. his gaze is hazy, but amused, he knows you too well. “have i ever told you how cute you are when you’re jealous?,” he teases, sucking that soft spot right below your ear.

you push him back. gentle but firm. your expression is blank. he notices.

“she’s just an old friend,” he adds casually, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear like that makes it all better, “don’t worry about it.”

and maybe that should be enough.

but something about the way he says it, the way he smiles, too easy, too quick to disregard your feelings. it all leaves a strange, sour taste in your mouth.

still, you don’t push it. not here. not in front of the crowd. not when he’s swaying slightly on his feet and leaning all his weight into you like you’re his safe place. like he doesn’t even realize how tightly your jaw is clenched.

later, in his room, it’s just the two of you with the door closed and the world outside muffled. he’s quieter now. less drunk. but his hands are still greedy. still tracing the places he’s always claimed a map he knows by heart. his hands finding their way beneath your shirt, along your thighs, between your legs.

you don’t stop him. because it’s easier to fall into him than to fight the pit in your stomach. easier to let yourself believe his mouth on your neck means i choose you. easier to kiss him back, let your clothes fall, let your bodies tangle in the dark. let yourself believe this means he’s still yours. all yours.

the sex is slow, tender, familiar. all mouths and murmurs and fingers threading through hair. he whispers your name like a prayer, like it’s the only thing anchoring him to the moment. he moves inside you like you’re the only thing tethering him to this moment. like if he touches you hard enough, long enough, all the cracks will seal shut again. and for a while, you forget. you forget the party. the blonde. the ache in your chest.

you just feel him.

“i love you,” he breathes. you say it back.

but when it’s over, when you’re curled against his chest, his fingers lazily tracing circles on your back, your eyes stay open in the dark.

his body is warm. his arms are wrapped around you. but something still feels different. something feels off.

like the air’s a little heavier. the silence is a little louder. your mind is miles away. still watching her laugh. still wondering why he didn’t move away.

you don’t ask. you don’t cry. you don’t accuse. you just lie there in the silence. and he doesn’t notice. or maybe he does but he doesn’t ask.

and that’s the part that stings the most. because love is still there. but the trust?

that might be the thing slipping quietly through the cracks.

the surprise.

it had been a brutal couple of weeks. your schedule had been merciless consisting of clinicals, overflowing textbooks, late-night study groups and back-to-back lectures. you barely had time to breathe. let alone see your boyfriend.

but you missed him. god, you missed him.

so today, on your first free day in weeks, you chose him. you skipped the library. you shut your laptop. you pushed aside your exhaustion and made time.

you spent the day learning how to make his favorite dish, the one he said tasted like home, the one he said he missed. you got the ingredients, followed the recipe, burnt it once, then tried again. the kitchen was a mess but your heart was full. you wanted it to be perfect.

you were nervous but excited. the kind of excitement that makes your fingers tingle and your heart race a little faster.

you hadn’t told him you were coming, you wanted to surprise him, make up for the time you’d been gone.

as you approached his dorm, your nerves bubbled up again. you balanced the container in your hands, smoothing your hair and checking your phone. no texts. even better. he had no idea that you were coming.

you knock once. no answer. you try the knob. it’s locked. you pulled out a duplicate of his key, the one he had made for you. hear the door click open.

and you step inside with a soft smile already forming, “jae?”

but his name dies in your throat. the smile doesn’t last. because there, tangled in his sheets, is jaehyun. half naked. sleepy-eyed. and she’s with him. the blonde.

your whole body stills, breath vanishing, fingers going numb, the container slipping from your hands and hitting the floor with a hearbreaking thud. you think you hear the lid crack open, food spilling out but you can’t look away from the bed.

from her. her mascara smudged, hair a mess, lips swollen.

jaehyun’s eyes follow hers, dazed, then panicked the second he sees you, “y/n.”

just your name. not baby.

“i—this—,” he stumbles over his words, sheet pooling at his waist as he sits up, guilt written across his face.

you don’t want to hear it. not the excuses. not the explanations. all you can see is the truth laid bare in front of you. her in his shirt, him in her arms, your world unraveling at your feet along with the meal you made just for him.

“this was supposed to be a surprise,” you whisper, your voice trembling, quiet and broken, like if you spoke any louder, you’d shatter completely.

“it’s not what it looks like!,” he pleads, getting up, grabbing his jeans like it would fix anything.

but it is what it looks like. it’s exactly what it looks like.

and it breaks you.

you blink once, twice, the tears blur the room but you don’t let them fall. not yet. “i really… really tried to make this work,” you say, your voice cracking, “i gave you everything i could and you—” you choke back the tears burning at the back of your throat, “you gave it to her.”

jaehyun looks like he’s about to break, but you don’t let him speak. you can’t. because you knew that if you stay any longer, if you let him reach you, touch you, beg you…you’d forgive him. you’d fold. you’d believe in him again. and he doesn’t deserve that.

so you turn. and you leave. you don’t look back. not even when he calls your name. not even when he runs after you, barefoot in the hall.

you don’t stop.

life without him.

the first week, you didn’t talk much. your voice felt foreign in your own throat. your phone buzzed more than usual. sometimes you wished his name would pop up but it never did. the only ones who cared enough were your friends. the ones who kept asking if you were okay. the ones who were quick to offer wine nights, sleepovers, distractions.

you appreciated it. but the truth was you weren’t okay. far from it. and the distractions never worked. but the silence always returned. every night. and maybe the absence was worse than the betrayal.

because every hallway you walked through had a memory of him. your brain betrayed you by replaying flashes of his smile. his hoodies still filled up half of your closet. his toothbrush was still next to yours. but he was no longer there.

the second week, you cried more. everything reminded you of him. the cars driving by, the campus cafe you both used to meet at where you once spent entire afternoons doing nothing but sharing fries and laughter, the songs that played.

worse than missing him was knowing that you weren’t allowed to anymore. not after what he did.

because the boy you missed, the one who kissed you at red lights, the one who wrote you a song. that boy chose someone else. with the same hands that used to only reach for you.

you try to explain it to your friends over dinner one night, but they don’t get it. they mean well. but they didn’t know him the way you did.

they didn’t see the version of jaehyun who whispered dreams into your ear at 3 a.m. who played you lullabies on his guitar when you couldn’t sleep. who kissed your knuckles before every exam and told you he believed in you. who made playlists just for long drives. who taught you how to parallel park without ever raising his voice.

so when they say things like “you’re better off” or “he didn’t deserve you anyway,” it doesn’t help.

it only makes you feel worse. because even if he doesn’t deserve you, you still want him. you still ache for him in every quiet moment.

and no one could unteach your heart what it already knew.

the third week, you almost called him. just once. your finger hovers over his name in your phone. but you don’t press it. because what would you even say? why wasn’t i enough? was she better? do you miss me? do you still love me?

no. you couldn’t do that to yourself no matter how badly you wanted answers.

you tried to return the pieces of him that haunts your space. walked all the way to his dorm, box in hand. but when you got to the door, the weight of it hit you so hard you turned right around and left. instead, you shoved everything under your bed. hoodie, pictures, all of the gifts he gave you throughout your relationship.

and you don’t call. you cry into your pillow instead.

the fourth week, you finally go to class again, with lipstick on. it’s not much. it doesn’t mean you’re over him. but it means you can at least walk into a room and not completely fall apart.

you even manage to laugh once, something your friends don’t miss. they send each other secret smiles when you’re not looking. they know it’s a good sign.

and even though you’re still grieving, still aching, still remembering him every time you hear a guitar strum, you start to find little moments of peace. not joy, not yet. but peace. tiny and fragile. but enough.

life without you.

he wanted to call, god, he wanted to.

every day since you left, his fingers hovered over your name. your contact was still saved with a heart beside it. still in his emergency. still starred.

the day you walked in on him — standing frozen with the lunchbox in your hands and tears burning in your eyes turned into a haunting memory.

you didn’t scream. you didn’t yell. you just looked at him like he’d shattered something sacred. and he ran after you, barefoot, panicked, half-dress and breathless.

but he stopped. and maybe that’s the part that haunts him the most.

he never called. not because he wasn’t sorry. not because he didn’t care. but because he didn’t know how to face the wreckage he caused. because deep down, he knew you deserved more than what he gave you. more than the version of himself that let you down in the worst way.

and the worst part? he had fallen for the blonde.

not in the way he fell for you, not the meteoric, world-tilting, i wrote you a song, kind of way.

but in a way that required no gravity. no weight. no soul.

he didn’t have to fight for the blonde. she showed up at every party, laughed at his jokes without really knowing what they meant. she kissed him like it was expected, not treasured. and she had time…time he hadn’t gotten from the girl he used to sit under the stars with.

he remembered that ache too well. the way you would cancel plans because of labs, fall asleep with textbooks in your lap instead of his arms, show up late with guilt in your eyes and coffee in your hands, apologizing with forehead kisses and tired smiles.

he missed you even then. missed the weight of your head on his chest. missed the silence you could sit in together without it ever feeling awkward. missed the way you loved him in your own quiet, exhausted ways.

but at some point, he got tired of missing you. of waiting. of feeling like second place to your ambition, your plans, your future he couldn’t see himself in.

so when the blonde leaned in close at that party, when her laugh filled the space that had been empty for too long, he didn’t pull away. he let it happen. over and over. until “don’t worry about it” turned into something else. something messier.

but nothing about it ever felt like you.

because every time she said his name, it never sounded right. every time she touched him, it didn’t burn like you. and no matter how many nights he spent tangled up in her limbs, he couldn’t get the memory of you out of his head.

he didn’t call. because he didn’t know what he’d say. because saying “i’m sorry” wouldn’t be enough. and saying “i still love you” would only hurt more.

he still played his guitar, but the songs didn’t sound the same. they didn’t come easy like they did when you were sitting cross-legged on his bed, humming along. he still laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. he scrolled through your socials more than he’d ever admit. he saw the smiles you posted with new cafes, new books, new friends. he wondered if you still thought of him. wondered if you hated him. worried that you didn’t.

sometimes at night, he found himself dreaming about you. vivid, disorienting dreams where you were still together, lying on the hood of his car with your fingers laced and the stars overhead. he’d wake up with tears in his eyes, and the blonde would ask what’s wrong?

he never had the heart to tell her.

he never had the heart to call you.

so instead, he stayed quiet. learned to live with the silence. with the guilt. with the ghost of a love that used to fill every corner of his world.

even as it killed him a little more each day.

three months after.

you passed each other on campus once. your hair was cut short, his has grown a little longer. both of you slowed. both of you looked. neither of you stopped.

he looked tired. not in a bad way. just older, like life weighed on him a bit. his hoodie was wrinkled. he had a stubble now. and he looked at you like you were the last page of a book he still wasn’t ready to put down.

there was a twitch in his fingers, a muscle memory of reaching for you. you saw it. you felt it. and you hated how much it made your chest ache. how your heart stuttered like it remembered a song it used to know by heart.

tha air between you was thick. electric. so many words. none of them spoken. he opened his mouth slightly as if to say your name but no sound came out. and you? you thought of every version of him you’d ever loved. including the one that cheated on you.

a part of you wanted to stop. to ask how he’d been. to ask if he ever missed you at 3a.m. when the world got too quiet. but you didn't. you kept walking. because what do you say to someone who once held your soul, and now only holds silence?

someone who couldn’t even love you enough to give explanations and apologies?

no words. no closure. just the aching knowledge that once, this person had been your entire world and now they were just a stranger with your memories.

back to present day. one year later.

you’d been driving for nearly an hour now, one of those late-night drives meant to quiet your thoughts, to press shuffle on a playlist full of nothing and everything. the road was nearly empty, the sky hazy with stars, and your fingers tapped anxiously against the wheel.

you didn’t even see the stop sign until it was too late. your foot slammed the brakes. the world lurched. metal kissed metal.

“holy shit!,” you yell. the jolt snapped you back to reality as your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline flushing through your veins.

of course you would crash your car the same week you got your license.

you stumbled out of the car, eyes wide, scanning for damage, panic rising in your throat. that’s when you heard it.

“y/n?!”

and your whole body froze. you didn’t have to look to know who it was.

that voice — the one you still heard in your dreams. the one that still echoed in the back of your head on days when you let yourself remember. the one you hadn’t heard in over a year but could recognize in a heartbeat. the one you made peace with.

slowly, you looked up, and there he was – jaehyun. standing on the other side of the road. frozen. like he’d seen a ghost. his jaw slack, eyes just as wide as yours.

for a second, neither of you said anything. you couldn’t.

he’s the last person you ever wanted to see in a moment like this. or maybe the first.

you swallowed hard, heat rising behind your eyes.

‘great. the universe fucking loves me.’

“hey, are you okay?” he asked, voice unsure, softer than you remembered.

his car looked fine, a little scratched on the side where your car clipped it, but nothing major. that’s when you noticed it.

“is that… a new car?”

“uh, yeah,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

his eyes didn’t meet yours and that stung more than it should’ve. that awkwardness…that silence. you once knew everything he was feeling with a glance. now, you could barely read him.

“i… i’m really sorry,” you say quickly, trying to regain your footing, “i wasn’t paying attention. i’ll cover whatever damage…we can exchange info—”

he steps closer, inspecting the scrape between your two cars, “hmm, it’s fine. no one was hurt, and the damage isn’t bad. i can just get it fixed.”

your breath catches, “are you sure?”

“yeah.” short. clipped. just like the way he left you.

you nod, crossing your arms, trying to pull yourself back together, but the silence that followed was heavy. too full of things you’d never got to say.

“…you got your license,” he says quietly.

you look up, blinking in surprise, “uh… yeah, i-i did.”

and he smiled. that same dimpled smile. the one you used to love. the one you haven’t seen in months, but still feel somewhere beneath your skin. it felt like being hit by a memory and a wave of grief at the same time.

there’s a beat.

then he turns, ready to leave. but something inside you cracks open, that quiet ache that never fully healed. so you call out, voice just barely above a whisper.

“hey…jaehyun?”

he stopped, turned back, eyes searching, “yeah?”

you swallowed, heart thudding your chest. you looked at him, really looked at him, and you saw it. the sadness in his face, the exhaustion behind his eyes.

“i just…” your voice came out softer than you intended, “i just wanted to say thank you. for teaching me.”

he stared at you for a moment and something shifted in his face. his smile this time was different. not the one you fell for. this one was heavier. more tired. more honest.

he nods once, “you’re welcome.”

and in that moment, you knew. he regretted it. the blonde, the silence, the year without you. all of it.

but you both said nothing more because what was left to say?

you didn’t need his apologies anymore. you didn’t need anything from him at all.

so you mirror his nod. and without another word, the two of you head back to your cars.

two cars. two people. driving in opposite directions.

but the ache in your chest tells you you’re both still carrying pieces of each other that no one else ever really got to touch.

and maybe that’s the saddest part.

the crash from his eyes.

he hadn’t even planned to go out that night. the party invite sat unopened in his messages. the game on the radio blurred into background noise. he just needed to drive with the windows down, mind quiet, something to drown out the guilt that still clawed at him when he was alone.

he told himself he was fine. told his friends he’d moved on. smiled when the blonde kissed his cheek in public, even though it felt like swallowing sand.

but even though he got a new number, he never deleted yours. never stopped writing songs he never finished. never got around to throwing out the old hoodie you left in his dorm until it no longer smelled like you.

he didn’t expect the crash. didn’t see it coming until it jolted his body forward, his hands tightening instinctively on the wheel. the impact wasn’t bad. just enough to shock him.

he cursed under his breath, unbuckled, and got out, already preparing to reassure whoever hit him. but then he heard it.

“holy shit!”

that voice. your voice. his blood ran cold. he turned. and time stopped.

you were standing there, heart pounding, wide-eyed, with your car door open and your hands shaking. you looked older but still so god damn beautiful it hurt to breathe.

“y/n?!”

your name escaped before he could stop it. and when you turned to face him, something inside him cracked open.

he hadn’t seen you in a year. three hundred and sixty-five days of pretending he didn’t miss you.

of pretending it didn’t kill him every time someone brought you up. now here you were. like a ghost he hadn’t been ready to face and he was the idiot who still dreamed about you.

“hey, are you okay?” he asked, because what else could he say?

you nodded, clearly shaken, eyes flickering over the cars, the scratch, the damage, anything but him.

“is that… a new car?” you asked.

he ran a hand through his hair, forcing a breath,“yeah.”

he didn’t tell you that it was his way of trying to erase you. couldn’t tell you that it made it worse because now the passenger seat felt empty in the wrong ways.

you apologized, of course you did, still so considerate. still so gentle. even when he was the one who wrecked everything first.

“i’ll cover the damage…we can exchange info…”

god. you were nervous. rambling. and he hated that you were talking to him like a stranger.

“it’s fine,” he said quietly. because no scratch on a bumper could compare to the wreckage of you leaving his life.

“are you sure?” you sounded uncertain. like you didn’t trust him anymore.

you were right not to.

“yeah,” he said again. bare. hollow. final.

he should’ve told you then. told you that he still thought about you every time he passed the cafe on campus. that the blonde was long gone, that she never really stayed, because she could feel what he didn’t say. that the only reason he hadn’t called was because he didn’t know how to say i never stopped loving you without falling apart.

but instead, he said something stupid.

“you got your license.”

and when you smiled, shy and small, it undid him. that smile. that softness. the same one that made him feel like maybe love didn’t have to hurt.

you didn’t say much. didn’t ask how he was. didn’t offer closure. not like, he deserved it. but then, just as he turned to leave, you stopped him.

“hey…jaehyun?”

his name on your lips again. he turned, heart thudding, eyes burning.

“i just wanted to say thank you. for teaching me.”

and he almost lost it right there. because that was you, even now. still choosing gratitude over bitterness. still offering peace, when all he’d left you with was silence.

“you’re welcome,” he whispered.

but what he really wanted to say was:

i’m sorry. i never meant to hurt you. you were the best thing that ever happened to me, and i didn’t realize it until it was too late. i think I’ll always love you.

instead, he watched you return to your car. and he did the same.

he drove off into the night with a hollow in his chest that hadn’t shrunk in a year and he knows that missing space will always be in your hands.

THE END.

͙͘͡★

an: finishing this feels likes a breath of relief not gonna lie. thank you for reading! let me know who you would like to see in this series! i’m thinking maybe johnny with enough for you next? but idk! leave your thoughts with me if you’d like <3

[mariaace]

So this is love? (Ft. Windbreaker)

Summary: Cute moments. That's all.

A/n: uhh so like i might do this for also haikyuu and my bestie @dazailoveschuuya suggested an idea for blue lock that i will probably write so stay turned!

Pairings: Sakura, Suo, Kaji, Kiryu

Warnings, before everyone's part.

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Sakura Haruka

Sakura was never good with affection. This was his first relationship amd everyone knew that. Even after some time in the relationship, even after you showed him what affection is, he still couldn't handle it without blushing like crazy. But he admits, it felt nice, bot that he'll ever say it. The problem is tho, how does he asks for affection?

"Hm? What is it Haru?" You look over at Sakura, who's staying right in front of you at the moment. His arms spread out just for you to fit against his body. He thinks it's obvious, that's how you hug...right? You hugged him a lot of times, that's how you do it. So why are you not getting it?

You look at his confused and flustered face and can't hold back a chuckle anymore. You step a few steps closer to him and just press your self against him, arm wrapping around his neck and resting on his shoulders.

He freezes for a moment, then slowly wraps his slightly shaky arms you. It feels...nice- he thinks.

"You know you can just ask me when you want a hug, right?" ".... I don't know how to.. especially if we're in front of someone.." You thought for a moment. Yeah, Sakura can barely hear the word kiss without blushing like crazy, then an idea pops in your mind. "Then give me some kind of signal. Whatever you feel like will grab my attention so that i know, that way you won't have to say anything."

From then on, every time he felt clingy, he tugged gently at the sleeve of your cloth. You always knew what he meant. (Not that he wasn't still flustered tho.)

Suo Hayato

(reader implied in another school)

Suo always knows what you need. You don't even have to tell him. But why is that? Because he can read people easily, especially you. He knows you like the back of his hand. So he often does thinks to you before you even ask for them. But how does the Suo Hayato reacts when you do something for him?

His school day just ended after some time on patrol with Sakura and Nirei. The two of them went on their way after the trio said goodbye to each other. Suo on the other hand, decided to stop off by the little café next to your school, since he saw a text from you telling him you've finished.

After he responded back, he started walking, quickly arriving at his destination. He smiled when he saw you on one of the tables with your homework books open. He walked over behind you and lowered his head next to yours. "Homework?" You turned your head to the side, seeing your boyfriend. "Yeah, sit across, I'm almost done and then I'll tell you about my day."

He did exactly as he said, but his eyes narrowed at the cup of tea, covered with a little plate in front of him. "Since when do you drink this type of tea-?" "Oh no, that's for you, i have my own right here." "..oh." Well that was certainly unexpected. The tea was still hot, because of the little plate that you put on top, that he just removed and took a sip of his drink.

Exactly. How. He. Likes. It. He smiled at you, even tho you were concentrated on your notebook. He mumbled a quite thanks under his breath and waited for you to finish.

Kaji Ren

Flavour of his lollipops? Uhh, he would have usually said that he doesn't care, he just likes his lollipops. But when you asked him? How did this conversation even begin in the first place? Why was he still listening to this? And most importantly, why did he agreed on that? He honestly can't tell, but he's doing it now.

"I never understood how your brain works." Kaji told you. This is what? His fifth lollipop today? And each one was with a different flavour. Why? Because you asked him if the different flavours made him 'taste different'. He thought it was a stupid idea. He genuinely did. But when he saw the look of excitement in your eyes when he said yes...

So here he is now, with a strawberry lollipop in his hand and you kissing him nonstop. "Hm, I think i like this one best." You thought for a moment. "Or maybe the raspberry.." "You haven't even tried the lollipops?" "I don't have to, i have you right here." You gave him a sly smile and went back to your thinking.

"The strawberry one is the best flavour." "But I actually like the raspberry on you." "Because you haven't tried the actual one." You still didn't give up on your assumption tho. That's when Kaji was the one who got idea. He looked over at the lollipop at his hand and the next thing you knew, it was in your mouth.

"See?" He gently pulled his arm, attempting to pull it away from you, when you suddenly didn't let go of it. He raised an eyebrow at you. "I count that as another kiss for your information." He groaned at your words. "But yeah, you were right, it's the better one."

After that, he always got strawberry flavoured lollipops.

Kiryu Mitsuki (fem!reader)

Kiryu is a gentleman. (Yes, I'll say it every time i post about him.) He knows what a girl wants and needs. And he is confident in his knowledge and experience. But then you decided out of nowhere to surprise him. How did he react on that? Perhaps positive?

Kiryu is known by all for his way of treating girls. At there really is a reason for that. He loves treating with you such respect, always doing things for you, and the way you react to all this? It warms his heart every time. Especially when it's in front of others.

Today tho, was a different say. Because you decided it's time to show him wat it's like, because he deserves it for being such a sweet boyfriend. So today when you two walked into the place of meeting up you opened the door for him. His face was priceless...and very cute in fact. He smiled slyly, thanked you, and walked in.

After that, you kept doing the things that he usually do, payed for the stuff, stood at the out side of the road, fixed the strand of his hair. It honestly felt so new to him, but he loved the way it felt.

At the end of your date (where you walked him to his house), he turned to you and thanked you specifically for all the things today. "I loved that. But i still prefer it to do them for you, because i get to see your cute reactions every time i do something." At that comment you nudged him playfully. "Now that wasn't very gentleman-like from you." You both laughed, and that's how your date ended.

Maybe he liked it a bit too much when you did those...

© mariaace 2024 please do not copy, translate, steal or claim any of my works.

@dazailoveschuuya @transmascaraa @nyxypoo

[chippa44444]

Autobots or Elite Guard (whichever you like best) discover that reader has an ASMR channel and have a hot section. What would be their reactions to their favorite videos/audio and which ones they would use for special nights. 👀

Thank you for your request! English is not my main language so I'm sorry if I make any mistakes!

They Discover Your 'Spicy' ASMR Channel… [Autobots (Optimus' team) x GN!Reader]

"What if... the Autobots (Optimus' team) discovered that their beloved human was secretly running an ASMR channel? And not just any channel—one with a 'hot' section full of soft whispers, breathy kisses, and sensual soundscapes... Here’s how they might react, and which videos they'd secretly use on those... special nights."

CW: suggestive themes, soft intimacy, implied romantic tension. Gender-neutral reader. No explicit content, but sensual/ASMR-based implications. Characters: Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Prowl, Ratchet, Bulkhead (Transformers: Animated)

🔥 Optimus Prime

At first: “Is this... truly your voice?” He tries to remain composed, but his cooling fans spin faster.

His gaze lingers on the screen, processing the intimacy of every whispered word.

“Even a voice alone… can affect me so deeply,” he murmurs.

Favorite video: Gentle, affectionate whispers telling the listener how loved they are.

Special night use: Plays it low while holding you close, his own voice joining in a soft echo—“But I want the real thing, right here... in my arms.”

⚡ Bumblebee

��Wait, wait, wait—THIS is your voice!? Are you serious!?”

Loses his mind over it, especially the kissy-sounding ones—face heating up fast.

“Nope nope nope I can’t—my processor’s overheating!!”

Favorite video: Lots of kiss sounds and playful flirting.

Special night use: Shares a pair of earbuds, pressing his cheek to yours. “This is dangerous... If you whisper like that for real, I’ll melt.”

🌸 Prowl

Watches it silently. Doesn’t react outwardly, but his optics dim slightly. “...Enticing. Dangerously so.”

Finds unexpected peace in your voice—even the heated undertones.

Favorite video: Breath-heavy, meditative whispering with gentle touches implied.

Special night use: Requests the real version—no playback, just you by his side, whispering. “I want your voice in my audio receptors. Not a recording.”

🛠️ Ratchet

“What in the Allspark—! You’re broadcasting this to everyone!?”

Is genuinely scandalized at first… then grows sulky. “Tch. That voice should only be mine to hear…”

Favorite video: Soft nursing and comfort roleplay—your voice caring for the listener’s needs.

Special night use: Keeps one ear open for playback, but pulls you close. “Forget the mic. Just say those things to me directly… dammit.”

💪 Bulkhead

“This is… wow. Warm. You sound really warm and sweet…”

Blushes hard at the more suggestive parts. “U-uhh… I didn’t know sounds could feel so good…”

Favorite video: Sleepy headpats and soothing murmurs—lots of “you did well today” kind of energy.

Special night use: Holds you in a blanket cocoon, plays it once, then whispers, “Say it again… but right into my chest, okay?”

[slut4menig]

Guys my age

Paring: Luke Castellan x Curvy AphroditeFem! reader

Req: hii can you please write a prompt in which Luke is 19 and reader is 16 and he thinks the age gap is too much as doesn’t see her as anything more than the kid he is counselling, but she’s an Aphrodite child so she doesn’t mind the chase, you can make it smut or not iyw!! also do you maybe mind making the reader like chubby/curvy? i love your work!! 🫶🫶 - 💜 Anon

ofc u can be!!! also omg i actually kinda hate this but whatever… hope u enjoy!

Warnings: MDNI, big age gap, cursing, drinking, use of smoking, reader implied to be curvy

Luke Castellan, a 19-year-old at the infamous Camp Half-Blood, stood tall and pretty almost like a loyal dog, and that made it near impossible for anyone to resist his charm, he’d had a go at almost all of the girls at camp half-blood, including all of my beautiful half sisters.

His unruly curly brown hair framed his handsome face, and deep brown eyes, which seemed to look straight into my soul whenever he gave me a task, even something as simple as asking to clean my dorm, held a hint of mystery. A small scar on his upper cheek added an intriguing touch to his otherwise perfect appearance. Luke is the epitome of a golden boy, capturing the hearts and attention of girls of all ages, young and old.

I’m only 16, luke had never dare even batted an eye at me last year but this year, I came back to camp, determined for a chance to stare into those beautiful eyes and have it mean something for him too. Since last year, i’d started to… well develop. My body had formed into a nicer shape, i certainly grew into myself. My chest was definitely a lot bigger, I started using normal bras, no more training ones. My thighs were thick and beautiful, something many men wished to be suffocated with.

“hey gorgeous girl, you’ve certainly grown up” My half sister Silene winked at me, I only ever see her at camp and I was packing my stuff into my bed. I rolled my eyes and huffed at her.

“Silene seriously? i haven’t seen you in a year and that’s the best you’ve got?” I immediately hug the girl as she chuckles quite a bit at my sharp tongue, we all start talking to our other half siblings and that’s when one of them goes

“hey y/n, you do realise you’re now technically old enough to be going to the bonfire party?” my half sister smirked

The bonfire party was tradition, 16 and up campers, it involved heavy amounts of marijuana, alcohol and other illegal shit. It was an excuse for people to get drunk and hook up and deeply regret it the next morning or so i’ve heard. It’s almost like a “back to school” party but instead it’s back to camp. It happens on the one night that Chiron is away and Mr D is in charge, of course, you bribe him with some alcohol and suddenly everyone’s happy.

“yeah uhh i’ll go, we should start getting ready then i guess?” i say, a bit on edge of what’s about to happen.

As i’m getting ready, i’m being handed a black lacy corset top showing off my double d tits extremely well, i look in the mirror and smirk, this is one of those times i KNOW i looks good. I wore a mini skirt along with it, sure i looked like a slut but hey? what can you do?

I enter the Bonfire, the glow of the fire casually illuminating my face in a perfect light. In hand was a red solo cup with… tequila and some other concoction i’ve been handed, i take a sip and spot him. Luke Castellan, my camp counsellor and the man I was practically already on my knees for. He made his way over to me and looked me in the eyes.

“Y/n? wow you look… grown up” His eyes clearly wandered around my tits a lot more than they should’ve, and he almost looked as if he scolded his self for looking but i wanted him to, this whole outfit was for him

“oh yeah? in what way?” i smirked and slightly tilted my head, trying to seduce the boy infront of me

He cleared his throat and came back to eye contact “You’re uh.. you’re taller” no i wasn’t, it was a blatant lie, i hadn’t grown an inch over the year, i knew what he was talking about and smiled to myself about it.

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Luke and I both turn our heads to a very drunken silene who’s perched up on the table, some guy with his arms wrapped around her waist and mouth colliding with her jaw.

And who was anyone to say no to my beautiful sister? Soon everyone found themselves sitting in this circle, bottles of Tequila, Vodka, Whiskey, Jäger and other liquors in the middle of the circle, ready to be there for whoever backed down from a dare.

“Clarisse, truth or dare” An Apollo girl slurred, looking into clarisses eyes from across rhe circle. Clarisse smirked and in return took a sip of her drink.

“Dare” It wasn’t surprising, her choosing dare.

“I dare you, to kiss me” the apollo girl smirked at clarisse, they obviously had tension and clarisse made her way over and kissed her, passionately i might add. The entire circle cheered and cheered.

Clarisse suddenly averted her gaze to me, we’d been friends for a while now whenever I hung out with silene she would be there.

“y/n, truth or dare?” I felt myself nervously stare at her, a group of maybe 25 people waiting on my reply to this one simple question she’d asked. It wasn’t that hard of a question so i gave a simple answer.

“Dare” I wanted to play it safe, truth was too much for me right now, I knew it would end up in me having to tell a huge secret and I just wanted a casual night, nothing too crazy, which was why i was baffled as to what came out of Clarisses mouth next.

“I dare you to spend 7 minutes of heaven with the person you think is the hottest, and don’t try bullshit your way out of this lovebug” Clarisse was obviously feeling happy with herself, she was tipsy as one could be. Actually no, she was just shitfaced.

I felt my body begin to grow weak and i scanned my eyes across the room, except i found one thing. No matter how hard I looked around the room, my eyes were always drawn back to Luke castellan. The man himself.

“uhh luke…” I said, everyone cheered and Luke looked at me a bit confused as to why I’d chosen him. Nevertheless we walked into a secluded spot in the woods.

“Y/n I uh… why’d you pick me?” Luke looked at me as he leaned against a tree and i stood there looking up at him

“why not, they said to pick the hottest person there” I shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant.

“You do realise you’re far too young for me, sweetheart?” Luke muttered at me in a deepish voice.

“I know but what did three years ever do to anyone?” I smirked, it was time for me to use the powers my mother gave me and capture this boys beautiful heart.

“Y/n i- i was- no! still am, your camp counsellor, you don’t think this is a little weird? you coming onto me.. I mean, you’re hot but” Luke said conflicted with his own thoughts at this point.

“Oh would you shut up castellan I saw you looking at my tits earlier, don’t act like you’re surprised i’m coming onto you” I smirked at him, giving him doe eyes and fluttering my lashes

“you’re such a brat, you know that? you need to shut up, it will get you killed someday, that pretty mouth of yours” Luke furrowed his brows and almost scolded me

“how about you make me shut up?” I wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered this seductively into his ear.

“oh I can think of a few ways” Suddenly I felt Luke’s warm tongue slip into my mouth, his deep kiss sending sparks to my pussy.

he pushes me against a tree, his hands roaming over my body possessively. “Fuck, you're so young and pretty, tell me, you ever fucked anyone?” Luke continued to say as he slipped his hands to the back bit of my corset top

“n-no, i’m all yours” i managed to breathe out, goosebumps trailing over my body from his cold hands unclasing my top.

His hands reach under my bra, feeling my soft skin. He leans in, kissing my neck, my collarbone, as his hands grope my breasts. His hot breath against my skin sends shivers down my spine. “that’s perfect pretty girl, let me take care of you okay?” luke then continued to kiss my forehead and unclasp my bra

He looks up at me, his eyes filled with desire. "You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now," he says, his voice low and husky. He starts to slip his hand up my mini skirt, his hands shaking slightly. “I bet your pussy is so tight and wet...”

i groan at his words, whimpering at the boys touch. “I- do it…”

“I can’t, I can’t ruin something as perfectly innocent as you” Luke looked at me in the eyes, piercing me with his gaze

“i’m less innocent than you think you know” I trailed my hands to unbutton his jeans and i watch his eyes widen

“what did you lie on your book log in elementary school?” he chuckled trying to distract himself from his hard on being revealed

“yknow i hump my pillow most nights wishing it was your dick” i whispered in his ear, i could feel the head flush on his face as his erection was poking into my thigh.

“fuck… pretty girl… that’s so hot, i wanna fuck you senseless, show you what a man is” he collided his lips to my collarbone and sloppily kissed it, his hands making his way to my soaked panties, rubbing it through them

“all soaked for me, pretty?” he looked up at me as i nodded, biting my lip to hold back a moan. I felt him slide my underwear off and crouch down, i felt the warmth of his hot breath against my sticky wet pussy, his tongue beginning to lap it, finding my clit and sucking on it with a pop.

I became a moaning mess, begging for mercy and for luke to continue fucking my hole with his tongue just the way he did. “mmmph~”

His hands spread my thighs wider apart as his mouth works its magic. His tongue swirls around my wet, throbbing flesh, sucking and licking with expertise. I can't help but moan loudly, my fingers tangling in his hair to pull him even closer. “Luke... please...”

He can feel my body shaking with need as he continues to eat me out, his own arousal growing with each moan that escapes my lips. He sucks my clit hard, his fingers sliding inside me, curves up to rub against my G-spot. “Come for me, baby...”

His fingers pump in and out of me in a rhythm that matches his tongue on my swollen bud. The sensations overwhelm me, and I dig my heels into his back, shamelessly bucking against his face as I shatter, screaming out his name. “Luke...Luke...”

As I reach my peak, something inside me breaks. I convulse hard, and suddenly, a rush of liquid gushes out of me, drenching Luke's face. He moans approvingly, lapping up every drop like a thirsty man.

I become red from embarrassment and stare at the man in horror.. “oh my god luke did i- did i just pee on you?” Luke did nothing but grin at me, his wet face glistening in the moonlight

“No baby, it’s called squirting and it was the hottest thing ever” he grabbed my hands away from my face

After cleaning me up with his tongue, Luke gently lifts my legs over his shoulders, positioning himself at my entrance. He looks into my eyes, his own filled with a mix of desire and tenderness. “Okay, beautiful girl, this is going to hurt, but I'll be gentle”

I look up at him, tears welling in my eyes. He smiles softly, "Good girl. It'll start feeling good soon, I promise." He leans down to kiss me, his hips pulling back slightly before pushing in again, deeper this time.

As he continues to move in and out of me, his pace picking up slightly, Luke leans down to take one of my hardened nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. His thumb finds my swollen bud, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. "Luke... oh god, Luke..."

I cry out as my orgasm hits, my vision blurring, my body trembling. Luke doesn't stop, fucking me through my climax, his own need evident in his face. "Fuck, pretty girl, you're so fucking tight right now. I can feel your little pussy squeezing me."

As he thrusts into me, his pace becomes erratic, his breathing heavy. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum, Y/n. I don't know where to put it all," he groans, his eyes wild with need. "Where do you want it, huh?"

I gave Luke those oh so beautifully innocent doe eyes he’s currently corrupting, i batter my eyelashes and whimper as i speak

“I want you to do it inside of me luke” Luke’s eyes widen at the prospect but doesn’t have time and gives in.

“You’re lucky i can’t say no to those beautiful eyes of yours baby” With a low growl, Luke buries his face in my neck, his body convulsing as he spills inside me. He jerks his hips against me several times, unloading more and more of his warmth into my inexperienced core. "Oh gods."

He pulls out and we both lay there breathlessly.

“that was a lot more than 7 minutes…” i whisper sheepishly as i catch my breath and put my clothes on

“i’m sorry i had to be your first time… you do know we can’t be together right? i mean you should really be with a guy your age?” Luke refused to look in my eyes as he slipped his boxers on

“but guys my age aren’t… you”

[sy-ki]

𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚

word count: 1.4k

tags: caleb x afab fem!reader, smut, implied psuedo incest, creampie, cum eating, panty sniffing, pussy eating through panties (? idk what else to call it), cunnilingus, light nipple play, clit stimulation, light face licking, implied aftercare

note: uhh so this is like my first time ever writing smut, its not even beta read so forgive me for any mistakes, anyways.. it's 2:30am and i should definitely be sleeping so lmk if i missed any tags or anything like that

“Caleb hurry”

“Have some patience pips I'm trying to find the right angle” he says as he sets up the camera to catch you in the bed sitting cross legged, only wearing his old worn out tshirt and panties. Fleet work demands the attention of their colonel and not knowing when exactly he'll be able to wrap it up this is…. "motivation" for the time spent away from each other.

“Alright there” He says, satisfied with how the camera captures all of you and moves back in frame, climbing on the bed he settles in front of you hands on your knees rubbing soothing circles before prying them open, and they are immediately soothing down your thighs “You feel okay?” Caleb asks which in all honesty is very sweet of him, considering you haven't ever done anything like this but right now you can't bring yourself appreciate it, given how his lips were on yours minutes before he got an alert that the Fleet would need him tomorrow morning for a confidential case, so you nod wrapping your arms around his neck hoping he won't notice your disappointment.

But he does.

He always does.

“But you are. I hate that stupid fleet of yours, they always take you away from me” you say, spoiled. Absolutely spoiled by your gege, always needing him by your side, wanting to carve a space open in his chest and fit yourself inside. You had always been like this, it's a lot worse now though, ever since the explosion, thinking you had lost him forever and then finding him again, it has made you more possessive of him and his time, always clinging to him even after how much he changed in your eyes, how different he became from the Caleb you knew and grew up with. His heart sores at the thought.

“Don't be like that baby, you know I'm not leaving because I want to” he tries to soothe you like he has done countless times since you were children, trailing soft pecks from your forehead to your cheeks

He's quick to kiss away the sad little pout on your lips, “I'm here right now yeah?” he tries to reassure and distract you, kissing and nipping at your neck, which seems to do the trick since you were already worked up from earlier, he gently lays you down on your back and lifts your legs over his shoulder, kissing down your calves down to your core, there's impatience in his movement, how he grips the back of your doughy thighs pressing your knees to your chest as he mouths at the seam of your cotton panties, all tongue and teeth as he bites, sucks and licks just a few inches away from where you need him the most.

A choked “Fuck-” is all you manage to say before you throw your head back, hips lifting from his hold as they try to chase the pleasure his mouth gives, but he is faster, stronger it's easy to forget on normal days but when Caleb’s like this, hands pinning your thighs back down— manhandling you it sends a shiver down your spine “You liked that” he say, smug bastard “Shit- just- quit fucking around” you demand, a little frustrated now.

“Calebbb you're teasing again” you whine breathlessly pussy throbbing and gushing “I’m savouring you” he replies pressing his nose right up against your clit through the now slowly soaking panties and he breaths you in “Fuck— god you smell so fucking sweet”. He pays no mind to you squealing and trying to push his head away as he presses his nose deeper, breathing shakily, before you can yell at him he flattens his tongue over your pussy through the fabric.

All it does is make him chuckle “What a spoiled girl, didn't I teach you to ask for the things you want” he chides all too satisfied having you unravel beneath him, it makes you flustered, frustrated, hot like molten lava flushing your face warm, you want to hide from him, bury your face in the pillow but you know better than to do that, so you do what you've always been taught, you ask, nicely politely, “Want you, please” you beg to which he shakes his head “Be specific pips i can't read your mind on how you want me” he says, his thumb pushing under the elastic of your soaked panty as he pulls and snaps it on your skin “Shit- fuck. Okay, want your mouth, please.. gege use your mouth”

He grins before he adjusts you so your soaked cunt is on full display, the camera capturing it, before he licks a stripe up your silt fabric clinging to your puffed up lips, the tip of his tongue presses down where your hole should be then sucks the soaked fabric into his mouth before he pulls back just enough to slide it to the side and latch his mouth onto your clit, sucking and pressing down on it with his tongue, and all you can do is grip his hair and moan, legs wrapping around him, thighs trapping his head in place and Caleb thinks he can die happy here.

It isn't long when the coil in your belly is pulled tight “Caleb im g-gon—” “Go on baby, make a mess” it's all you need before you unravel on his tongue, his tongue fucking into you to taste every last drop, when it gets too overwhelming he gently pulls away with a kiss to your sensetive clit, you pull him up and into a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue, it's messy, it's filthy, drool dripping down the sides of your mouths when he rubs his tongue against yours, swirling and sucking on it, you don't want to pull away, never, you want to be attached to him in every sense of the word, fused together, but the need for air takes over and your both separate with a filthy swipe of your tongue, Caleb however leans down to lick up the sides of your lips catching drool spilling over.

“Do you feel okay to continue?” Caleb asks to which you eagerly nod, you've been waiting for this the whole evening, moving you both in the middle of the bed, he picks up the camera, kneeling between your legs as you spread them open, the camera catching the wet shine of it, your hands bunch up his your tshirt up to your neck, Caleb can't help himself from pawing at your tits, leaning down to take one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your nipple and lightly biting it, which earns him moans upon moans from you, popping it out of his mouth, he thumbs at your bottom lip, you take that as an invitation to wrap your pretty lips around it and suck, his cock throbs in his pants, has been leaking pre since he started touching you

You look up at him from under your lashes, still sucking on his fingers as you take his cock out stroking him, it earns you a delicious hiss from him as he slides his thumb out from your mouth, pressing and circling it on your neglected nipple, you gasp pussy gushing as you run his tip on your clit. Up and down, up and down as it catches on the entrance of your hold making both of you shudder, losing composure second by second, Caleb holds himself at the base and taps his cock on your wet cunt, pushing in all in one go.

The stretch leaves both of you breathless, and he sets a punishing pace, seemingly all thoughts and composure leaves him and he hastily sets the camera back down, in a somewhat coherent position so it at least keeps you both in frame, wrapping his hands around your hips he all but buries himself in you with each stroke, the camera shakes as well the recording definitely turning blurry. You wrap yourself around him, clinging and surrounding him as he reaches deep within you, tears of pleasure cling to your eyes as you hide your face in his neck, clenching around him as he momentary stutters his pace and he latches onto your nipple, two-three well angled thrusts and you both are coming undone, ropes and ropes of hot cum spilling inside you as you go limp under him, too boneless to move or ask him to move as he crushes you under his weight.

By the time he's finds the strength to pull away from you, you are floating between the edges of sleepiness It makes something fond bubble inside his chest “It's okay honey, you can rest I'll clean you up” He says kissing your cheek and reaching to switch the recording off, you give him a sweet smile before succumbing to sleep.

[dreamfyr-e]

brat. - j.v. ( w. 4.5k )

꒰ in which the boy you see every summer enrolls in the same university as you. ꒱ — modern!jacaerys velayron x reader

୨ ⎯ i cannot stress enough, football means ⚽️ not 🏈. childhood-friends-to-lovers, but you have to get through my 2000 word psychoanalysis and backstory first. light angst. mention of the death of a parent. lots and lots of talk about the velaryon-targaryen-hightower family dynamic. light make out action. reader's family is implied to be wealthy enough to have a summer home. almost everyone lives au. set in the uk, not westeros. omitted daemon rhaenyra marriage because there’s no way to to make it even semi-normal. realizing now i omitted daemon entirely erm sorry. pushing the laenor agenda bc he’s my favorite character. this is abhorently long. extreme overuse of the em-dash. uhh the perspective is wonky in a few places. part two. ⎯ ୧

i had to write this twice. i'm offering this to you with shaking hands, like a peasent child begging for coins. i may write a part two because i have more to say, but i don't want to figure it out rn.

On the cold January morning that Jacaerys Velaryon-Targaryen was born, the media went into a frenzy. 

The Targaryens were old money, their fortune rooted a century back in good investments. Historically adept at finding their way into things, the empire had a string to pull in every industry. From art and law to technology and shipping, if business prospects looked good there would be a Targaryen investment.

And then there were the dogs — regal greyhounds, with long, thin bodies and sleek coats. The Targaryens bred them as far back as bloodline records went. The pups were never for sale; sometimes they were used as show dogs, and successful show dogs they were, but more often they were pets. It was a status symbol, to nonchalantly own such a coveted creature. 

The Targaryens were idolized in the public eye. They were all stunning, with sharp features and silver hair, and each member of the family seemed to possess a Midas touch. But, where Valyrian blood ran hot, so did the press. It was no surprise when magazines started to turn a profit from silver heads plastered across their glossy covers. It was the price that came with God-like aristocracy.

From editorials to gossip columns, people devoured the insider life of the untouchables. When Aemma Targaryen died, there was a four-page spread in nearly every magazine; complete with pictures and quotes. Business papers filled with opinion pieces about Rhaenyra’s inheritance claim to her family’s empire; magazines exploded with the announcement of her engagement to Laenor Velaryon, and subsequently Viserys’ marriage to Alicent Hightower, the daughter of his lawyer. 

When Jacaerys was born, reporters lined up outside of the hospital doors. There were cameras and microphones and crew trucks, and Rhaenyra hated it. It wasn’t the way she wished to welcome her child into the world — swarmed by people who didn’t know nor care for him.

Laenor had always been good at navigating the attention, and Rhaenyra was constantly grateful. So, when he pulled his gaze from the babe and steeled himself to deal with the onslaught of reporters outside, tears pricked at her eyes. Appreciation, exhaustion, adoration? She couldn’t be sure. 

Looking down at her son, she thought, he’s perfect. He had a smattering of dark hair, and he was quiet but not concerningly so. Wispy lashes fell upon his cherub cheeks, and when he eventually blinked up at her his eyes were dark. He looked nothing like her — she didn’t care. 

She refused to talk to anyone outside of her family, and had the curtains in her private room drawn. To expose her son, her heart, to the prying eyes of the bored masses with nary a care for his well-being was a nightmare. She wouldn’t have him exploited. 

At the time of Jacaerys’ birth, she and Laenor had been married for a little over a year. Laenor’s father, Corlys, managed the bulk of the import and export for Viserys’ company. Corlys was a good man, he hadn’t dreamed of marrying his son off. But Laenor and Rhaenyra were both in the same impossible situation: the wiles of youth mixed with the ever critical public. 

They had both fallen into scandalous relationships, both preyed on by paparazzi. If they married one another, it would save face for both of their families. Plus — both being the eldest and heir, this would clear the expectation of a dignified marriage. They agreed to leave each other to whatever youthful fun they wanted to have, as long as everything was discreet. 

Both the Velaryons and the Targaryens kept a summer home in Dragonstone, a private community in coastal Wales. It was the perfect place for Rhaenyra and Laenor to begin their life — far from her father, close to his parents, and out of the line of sight for any nosy journalist. 

The public eye had looked to other things by the time Lucerys was born, two years later. Again, Laenor dealt with the small gathering of reporters with the utmost grace, and Rhaenyra submitted a written statement. 

Alicent divorced Viserys that same year. 

As she watched her boys grow up, full of energy and life, Rhaenyra thought, there was no one better to parent with than her best friend — a title Laenor had rightfully earned. They hadn’t had much choice in knowing each other, and they certainly would never have chosen to be married, but he made a bearable roommate. They had things in common; they liked the same music, and the same men. They drank the same wine and frequented the same restaurants. And, they both loved their boys. 

As Jace and Luke grew up, they found the best company in each other — the school in Dragonstone was so small, though, that there were very few other options. They both played on the school’s small football team, and Jace took piano lessons while Luke learned to fence. Where Jace was driven by emotion, Luke was level-headed; where Luke was cautiously quiet, Jace spoke his mind. It was an ideal childhood, the Welsh coast was an idyllic backdrop to grow up upon, with the sea in their backyard. 

They were ten and eight when Joffrey was born, both excited for their new brother. Their mother brought him home, bundled in a soft red blanket. The boys sat on the couch beside Rhaenys and stared at him for upwards of an hour. 

Hardly a week had passed when Harwin Strong died. He was a family friend, a frequent presence in their home and life — Jace and Luke had been upset by this, of course. 

In time they came to understand the situation fully. Jacaerys first, fitting the pieces together with the evidence he found in the mirror. Neither Rhaenyra nor Laenor had dark hair, like he and his brothers. 

His matriline was uncontestable though, as he grew into himself. He possessed the same nose, jaw, brow, and high cheekbones that Rhaenyra wore. The comparisons between the two became more frequent as he grew older, and he found himself to be quite proud to look like her. 

Her attitude lived in him as well, the temperament she had been so notorious for as a girl festered in her eldest son. She had once been christened ‘The Princess of Dragonstone’ after flipping off a reporter at their summer home. Jacearys earned it for himself when he was fifteen, after loudly berating a reporter. He had been defending Luke, but no one seemed to care when they deigned him ‘The Prince of Dragonstone’. He took it with grace, claiming that he couldn’t help but be his mother’s child.

It instilled a sense of public propriety he strove to uphold. 

Rhaenyra remarried the same year — to Alicent Hightower — and moved her children from Wales to London. It took a while to adjust to the new life — Jace liked his new school, but he detested his step-brothers. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t come around to the idea of living with Aemond and Aegon, who took so much pleasure in making he and his brothers miserable. 

After the first month, Jacaerys fell in brilliantly. He performed well in school, quickly being enrolled in the advanced literature and history courses. He got on well with his peers, and made a number of friends. He joined the football team and spent his Sunday afternoons learning piano concertos. 

Living in London made him a more publicly prominent figure in his family's legacy. He knew how to play his role as heir; he carried himself perfectly — confident and charming and elegant. He didn’t particularly like being in the public eye, but there was a certain sense of satisfaction when he did something to receive positive public attention. 

King’s Landing, much like where he had grown up, was a community reserved for the upper echelon. Situated in Northwest London, and surrounded by wrought iron gates, it was regal and dignified. The house had high, vaulted ceilings, large stained glass windows, and more than enough bedrooms. It rained more, Jacaerys noticed in the first month. When it had rained in Dragonstone he would watch the droplets bounce off the sea, where it lapped at the sandy bay. Here the rain splattered unceremoniously upon the pavement. 

For as wonderful as life in London had turned out, Jacaerys found himself longing for what was left behind in Dragonstone. Laenor lived there still, and while he called often and visited as much as he could, it wasn’t the same. Jace’s childhood bedroom remained, along with all of the memories in the house he grew up in. And his friends. There was an assortment of people he only saw between late May and early September; the children of the other seasonal residents. The number had dwindled in years past, with fewer of them returning for break — favouring more interesting places, like Ibiza or Rome, as they got older. 

Far too few of his childhood friends he kept in contact with, especially after the move to London. You were the exception. 

He was grateful, on days when it stormed in London, to receive a silly text or too-long voice note. It made things feel less dull — you had a way of doing that. 

He took to reading theory around the time he turned seventeen. It’s queer theory, at the suggestion of his cousin Baela, who lent him his first Judith Butler book. He finished it that weekend. 

His aunt Laena and her two daughters lived in London, and Jace found a close comrade in Baela. She played competitive tennis and listened to riot grrrl, she was much cooler than him and he knew it. Her bedroom held two massive bookshelves, and she let him pillage her collection for De Bouvier and Didion and Gay. Hours were spent lying across the floor in Laena’s house, studying, or reading, or talking. He enjoyed Baela’s company more than any of his school friends, favouring anything with her over anything with the boys from his football team. 

His youngest sister, Visenya, turned one around the same time. Baela, staying with Jacaerys while he babysat one night, inducted him into the eldest daughter club. 

“You’re so keen on driving your siblings around, and taking care of them. Plus, aren’t you your mother’s closest confidant?” She asked. 

True, Jace supposed. He was the oldest of Rhaenyra’s children, and the most responsible of his brothers and step-siblings. His mums both worked full time, they were busy but as involved as possible. Jace just did the menial things. He made Joffrey breakfast, picked Luke up after school, and watched Visenya when necessary. He didn’t mind.

Baela argued that he should mind. 

He had been a sensitive child, more so than his brothers, but it made him incredibly emotionally adept as he aged. So many boys his age prided themselves on stoicism, but that was never something Jace felt connected to. He always felt things too deeply to bottle them up — it accounted for the occasional temper that flared up when he was upset, but also how empathetic and kind he was. 

Jacearys was set to graduate with honours in the first week of May. It was three months before when college acceptance letters began to appear in the mail. He had applied to a number of places, and been accepted everywhere. The University of the Vale was where his hopes hinged though. 

Just after Valentine's Day, it showed up. The envelope was wide and stuffed full, and sealed with a wax stamp. His acceptance letter was on the very top of the stack of papers — the thick paper heavy in his hands, as he admired the blue printed border and silver flocking. 

Rhaenrya sorted through the informational packets while Jace reread the letter. Part of him couldn’t believe it was real.

He sends you a picture of the letter, and you respond in kind with one of an identical nature. 

You hadn’t planned to go to the same university, but it certainly was a happy coincidence. 

After graduation, he was beyond excited for the reprieve that Dragonstone granted. The promise of early morning hikes, and evenings spent on the beach — the once empty house, full of life and bustling with bodies. 

You were the first thing Jacaerys thought to look for when he set his bags down in the summer home. 

It was late May, and you were guaranteed to be out of school. I’ll text after I unpack, he thought, pulling clothes and books from his suitcase. 

His room in Dragonstone had once been his childhood bedroom. The walls were a warm tone of white, and the small bed was still covered with his blue and white checkered duvet. Piano scales and pictures of his brothers and friends adorn the walls. There was a soccer trophy on the back edge of his desk, something he had won when he was eleven. It was stuffy from nine months of stagnance, but familiar all the same. 

He pushed the curtains back from the window to let sunlight filter into the dusty room, gazing down at the beach, when he spotted your figure. He was quick to rush downstairs, out the backdoor, and across the stone path that leads from the patio to the beach. He greets you with a call of your name and a tight hug, sunglasses perched atop his head and linen shirt half buttoned. 

It had been a year since he’d last seen you. You had kept in touch during the school year; Jace favoured Snapchat and FaceTime, delighted with the pleasure of seeing the mundane things you were up to. There was a nearly constant text thread, and voice memos passed back and forth. But, it all paled in comparison to physical company. 

He abandoned his housekeeping duties, keen to sit on the beach and talk. And you did so for hours, about everything and nothing. He tells you about his last year of school and listens as you do the same. When the sun dipped past the treeline, he leaned back on his elbows, watching the water crest on the sand. He felt more at ease than he had in a while, enraptured by the ease of your presence. The conversation flowed, there were no awkward lulls and no pressure to talk about something dignified. It was comforting to be so close to someone who didn’t see much of his life in London — you knew the best version of him. 

Your friendship had always felt like that, from a young age. On days that smelled of sunscreen and sea salt in his mind, you would meet in the mornings and depart past dark and then do it again the next day, never tiring of each other. Your parents knew his, so you had always been welcome in his home — invited or not. You had shared a bed during sleepovers, drunk from the same cup, and fallen asleep on the couch during movie nights countless times. Quick glances and imperceptible expressions were a language you communicated in, reading each other without words. In your presence, Jace was the most comfortable.

The summer slipped away as it always did, taking long nights and leaving memories of sand and sunshine. The days were ambled away in the water, on rocky hiking paths, or in the meadow that sat a mile away from all of the homes. 

Jace had started The Hobbit before school ended — most days he found himself sprawled out in the park or on the beach, reading. He had also taken to running with his dog, Vermax, in the mornings. He relied on the serotonin boost to start the day, and with no football to play a jog was a decent alternative. 

When the summer drew to a close, the typical melancholy that befell the return to the real world wasn’t present in Jace’s mind. He presumed it had everything to do with the fact that he would see you every day now

You have one college class together — a nine a.m. medieval literature discussion. 

Clinging to familiarity in the new environment, he glued himself to your side for the first week of classes. He memorized the way to your dorm, meeting you outside every morning to walk together to your first lessons. The meandering conversation was a good start to the day, and he silently relished in your tired eyes and quiet voice, not yet used to the early schedule. 

On Friday he all but begged you to come back to his dorm after the discussion; it was your only class that day so you had given in. You hadn’t seen his living quarters yet, and he wanted to spend time with you, worried for when your schedules would fill up and you would lose room for each other. 

The discussion had been mind-numbing. You reviewed the same syllabus as the lecture, and went over the same rules and policies as every other class. With the thirty-five minutes remaining, the teaching assistant made everyone watch an incredibly monotone video about the history of medieval England. 

Jace linked his arm into yours in the hallway after class, pulling you to the doors. The cool morning air was refreshing, waking you up more as you walked across campus. His dorm building was new and modern, seventeen floors with grey siding and big windows. It was private housing, clearly expensive. 

He had a single room with an adjoining bathroom and a small common space. The walls were typical dorm white, with laminate wood flooring. Joffrey’s school photo is hung on one wall, the frame clearly decorated by the child with glitter and string. Scattered across the other walls were photographs in thin silver frames, a large world map, a clock, and a cross-stitch of a rainbow stag beetle.

Sitting on the couch, you observed the unframed photos that lay across the coffee table, inspecting a leggy grey dog as you plucked it from the pile, “Who is this?”

Jace leaned into your side, gazing at the photo, “My mum’s dog, Syrax,” He reached over you to tap the picture, “Syrax is my dog’s mum.” 

He slipped his hand into yours as you walked with him to his second class of the day.

In the third week of school, Jace asks you to attend a mixer for a pre-law society with him. He doesn't know anyone, and doesn't want to be alone at the party. You meet at his dorm at a quarter-to-six so you can walk to the event together. 

The dress-code is emi-formal, and when he opens the door to you his hair is slicked back with water and he smells like his cologne — musk, sandalwood, and amber. 

“Are your clothes pressed?” You ask, grinning at his freshly ironed slacks and the three buttons undone on his shirt. 

He rolls his eyes, locking the door behind him as he escorts you down the hallway. The walls of the elevator in his dorm are mirrored, and you laugh at him when you catch him taking pictures of himself. He makes you take one with him, and sets it as his lock screen. 

The mixer was in the dean of law’s massive house, buzzing with young people in smart outfits. Jace abandons you about fifteen minutes in, spotting a group of poli sci majors from his social psychology class. 

From his childhood spent between galas and his mother’s business meetings, Jace was good at navigating these situations. He was charming, leveling the professors with charismatic smiles and confident posture. He was good at holding an intelligent conversation, discussing theory and strategy. 

You were on the patio, watching the stars, when he found you an hour later.

His arms brushed yours as he leaned against the railing, “Sorry for leaving you,” His voice was quiet, and he stared at your profile, watching the way the moonlight illuminated your skin. 

You wave his apology off and make him buy you coffee in recompense on the way home. 

You’re stood talking together on the quadrangle a few weeks later, a cup of hot chocolate warming your mitten-less hands, when you realise just how cold it’s gotten. It's just too cold for the thin jacket that you try to sink further into, hiding from the wind that bites at your delicate skin.

Jace watches you shiver, observing your lack of appropriate attire. 

“Are you cold?” He asks, reaching out to run his hands up and down your arms, half to warm you, half to gauge how thick your jacket is. Not very. 

You nod, “I didn’t check the weather this morning.” 

He sighs with exaggerated exasperation and slides his arms around you, careful of the paper cup you held. Of course, he’s worn the right coat, and you feel the downy material of his hood against your cheek as he rubs your back to generate some warmth. You smell the cologne on his collar and the expensive shampoo he uses; he grumbled something about taking better care of yourself. 

Then, one particularly cold Friday morning he has forgotten his coat. Dressed in a hoodie, he mirrors your excuse from the week prior, smiling sheepishly — face flushed from the chilly air, dark curls blowing around his head like a halo. You take pity on him, slipping your scarf off. You loop it around his neck, tucking the ends down into the collar of his sweater, and leave him with a fond peck on the cheek; his skin is cold. 

He's appreciative, though the scarf does little against the cold wind cutting through his sweater. Still, he doesn't give the scarf back. 

With the cold, comes midterms. You’re the first person Jace asks to study. 

Your dorm room is closer to the central part of campus, and thus a shorter walk in the bitter cold. Jace brushes snow out of his hair as you unlock your door, ushering him inside. It's small. Two twin-sized beds, one on each wall, with nary enough room for two bodies between them; a desk is crammed into the small space between your bed and the window. You let him take the desk, spreading your books and notes out across your bed.

Your dorm is old, and the room has very little ventilation. Despite the frigidity outside, the room is stuffy and almost hot with both of your bodies inside. An hour into studying Jace shrugs off his heavy, knit sweater and pushes his glasses up into his hair. 

“What are you working on?” You ask, leaning forward. You’re bored, working on the same power point you started yesterday. You want to talk to him, though he doesn’t seem keen on the idea

He doesn’t look up from typing as he speaks, “Analysing The Art of War.” 

You shut your laptop, bent on distracting him, “The book?” 

He nods but doesn’t give a verbal response. 

“Who's that by?” You ask, fighting to suppress a grin

This time he does look up, glaring at you over his glasses, “Sun Tzu.” 

His tone is short, but it's amusing to annoy him so you grin, suppressing a giggle, “Sounds very interesting.” 

“What do you want?” He asks after a beat, still holding your gaze. 

You shrug, “Nothing. I’m bored,” 

The next time you study is even less productive, school work discarded on his floor in a matter of minutes. 

“We can’t be trusted to work together,” He tells you, watching as you calculate his astrological chart, geometry homework forgotten. 

You attend your first college party together in November. When you arrive at his dorm, he’s dressed much more casually than normal. 

You reach out to tug at the thin silver chain peeking out from his shirt collar, “This is fun,” You tease, giggling, “Aiming to impress tonight?”

He rolls his eyes in mock-offence, turning you around by the shoulders to shove you out of the doorframe. 

The lights in the house are dim, and they strobe slowly through different colours. It’s too dark and too bright all at once. The music is almost unbearably loud and people are packed in like sardines, it’s all incredibly overstimulating. 

When he senses your unease, Jace takes your hand, pulling you tight against your side to lead you through the throng of bodies. He’s looking for someone, but you’re unsure who, and he canvases the whole space before giving up on finding them.

The backyard of the house is quieter, but the ground still vibrates from the bass of the music. People are scattered about, smoking cigarettes and sipping from bottles of cheap beer. 

You both learn what Jell-O shots are, and make out in the bathroom back at his dorm. It’s not the first time you’d kissed each other, trying it a few times in your adolescence just to see what it was like. But this is different, tipsy and sloppy, as you giggle into his mouth. 

It's forgotten in the morning, when you wake up in his bed still dressed in your going-out clothes, head pounding.

But then it happens again, the week before finals.

You had stayed at the library far too late studying, leaving the pair of you to walk back to his dorm in the dark. It's positively frigid, cold December air whipping snow into your face. 

There are still snowflakes in your hair as you shed the thick coat you’re wearing, pulling off your gloves and hat. 

There's a bottle of wine in Jace’s freezer, left by Aegon the weekend before. It's expensive and rich and red, and Aegon would likely skin you if he found out you were drinking it — but, that's part of the fun. There's a baking show on the small television, and you’re curled into Jace’s side to steal some of the warmth from his body.

When the program lulls he brings his hand to your hair, combing through the tangled strands. You pay it little mind, leaning into his touch as you watch a contestant on-screen whip macaron batter. His fingers slide down to your jaw, turning your head so your eyes meet his. He’s studying your face, cheeks flushed from the wine or the cold. 

The attention is odd, and you giggle nervously under his gaze. His hands come to cradle your jaw as he leans towards you, nose brushing yours. The air is charged with an unusual tension, his mouth a breath away from yours. 

When he kisses you, he’s slow and gentle, his whole body angled into yours. Everything feels warm, a welcome contrast to the weather outside, and you chalk it up to the glasses of wine coursing through your bloodstream. 

It's pleasant, different from times past; this certainly doesn’t feel like an innocent, experimental kiss. It's heated, tinged with passion. He uses the placement of his hand to ease your jaw open, tongue sliding slowly into your mouth. 

There's a vibe, something you hadn’t felt before with him. It's communicated through the gentle touch of his hands, and how his breath hitches when you kiss him back with the same sort of force. 

The moment is broken by the announcement of a winner on the television. His hands slide down, resting on your shoulders, pulling your frame into his. 

You don’t talk about it afterwards. 

[dessknightenjoyer]

WARNING: Massive deltarune spoilers and my running theory on who the knight is below

Im going to get straight to it. I think the knight is Dess and I think that there is more evidence leaning towards Dess than Carol. I think Dess and Carol are the only two realistic Knight candidates at this point.

First off, why it can only be those two. The Knight has Large antlers and when the green room is abandoned, the texture that appears during snowgrave overlays everything, which both Heavily hint at the knight being a holiday, and actually leans more toward Carol being the knight, But I still think it's dess.

Now, for my main piece of evidence for Dess Knight: The Knight Looks. Like that.

Ok, we know from Kris that things about a lightner can change when entering a dark world (their skin turns blue) but the knight is Something Else. It is completely pitch black and able to shift forms on a whim. Not only that, but although we never actually see it in the light world, Based off the drop from the Chapter 3 Secret Boss, It seems to not fully turn back. Let me explain.

Upon beating the chapter 3 secret boss, which is the knight itself, with the help of the shadow mantle, You get an item called a Black Shard. You get this from Susie chipping a piece of the knight's weapon. This item stays a black shard both in and out of the light world. Now, the Knights weapon and the knight both seem to be very similar (pitch black) and share the same properties (ability to transform) so I don't think its too much of a stretch to suggest that the knight and it's weapon might be made of the same stuff.

The fact that whatever this stuff is doesn't transform into any light world object but instead remains a black shard suggests that the knight also remains whatever they are in the light world. If I'm right about this, then Carol can't be the knight cause she is fairly normal in the light world. At least, more normal than whatever the knight is.

Now, the knight's weapon. When the knight first appears, the knight displays what seems to be a bat before grabbing it and transforming into a sword. I think that this little period where it really looks like the knight has a bat is a pretty clear sign it's Dess, as Dess is associated with bats, both from the sweepstakes and one of the examination dialogues from Noelle's computer, where says it shows Dess holding a cracked bat.

Ok it says baseball bat but. Cmon. Now the fact the knight has a sword could hint as Carol, as we know Carol owns and used swords. But I think the knight clearly showing off its weapon looking like a bat is a sign that the knight is Dess.

Next point: Mayor Holiday was Presumably at home when the church fountain was opened. Now, just based off when we see her enter holiday manor, she could have simply made the church fountain and gone home, but there is evidence against this. When examining the Door in the church after chapter 4, It says that a large person could fit inside (just like chapter 2). If you choose the option to turn the handle, Kris turns the handle and does nothing else.

I took this to be Implying that the Knight was in here, and that the knight was in the server room in chapter 2 as well. If this does mean that the Knight is here, it would make Mayor knight less credible as Carol would have had to run back to the church almost instantly to be there as the knight.

Now, the final point I have which uhh. Isn't great. But. The Knight poses a lot and just like has flair that I don't think Carol would have even with weird shapeshifty knight powers. Like look at this pose when Susie is chasing the knight:

Like I just don't think Carol would be like this. From what little we know of Carol and Dess this kind of stuff seems more like Dess. Plus from what we know of the mayor she seems to be more of a planner while the knight seems to just. Summon a titan without too much reason. It doesn't seem like something Carol would do, although thats not really evidence we don't know her.

Maybe I shouldn't have ended on my weakest point but i feel that everything else is pretty strong. Like all the evidence leaning towards to mayor can be explained away easier than all the stuff leaning towards Dess. From what I've seen Dess knight seems pretty popular right now but I just wanted to lay out what's making me lean towards it. Maybe I'll write another post about what I think Dess / the knights deal is if this one isn't too bad. Sorry if I mispelled anything or repeated myself or anything like that.

ADDENDUM: I didn't mention the phone dialogue anywhere cause depending on who is speaking it's meaning changes and I wanted to stick to what we know.