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#I just wanted an excuse to draw angst
meaty-bones · 3 months
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Just some angst because I felt like it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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tubbytarchia · 3 months
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gg buddy am I right (ethubs doodle that I don't know what to do with)
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toffeebrew · 2 months
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Attachments
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damn where your dad at? ( ink sans owned by @/comyet & undertop gaster by @/stylincheetah )
w/ txt & doodles version:
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inspired off this post:
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thebad-lydrawn-sanses · 5 months
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Creator: Mm, art block. What to do...?
Creator: What do you think, wackus bonkus?
"Wackus Bonkus" (Hand): make angst
Creator: ohh, you naughty wackus bonkus
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quinn-pop · 9 months
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mtdd week day 3 - caring
yeah this is a totally random timeskip thing. just pretend dedede looks older okay thank you
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just another night (and it’s ours)
part 2
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acatpiestuff · 1 year
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Something Something typical emmet falls into Hisui and gets Hurt™️ whilst looking for Ingo
Some bonus doodles that are a little more silly below
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setacin · 2 years
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so ive had an au idea bouncing around in my skull for a bit now. the general concept is that etho is offered immortality during the singleplayer world era of mcyt and accepts it. what he didn’t predict was the downsides of accepting - becoming not quite human, and later on outliving the humans he became friends with. 
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there’s inspiration taken from the hades and persephone myth in that this deal is signed through eating part of a pomegranate (which is kind of how i imagine chorus fruit), as well as the fact that the changes aren’t entirely permanent. 
this is like. subject to change but right now i imagine that etho can appear normal most of the time, though gets more of the void features the more time he spends in the dark or close to the void. 
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puppyeared · 2 years
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For the ask game: Augusta and/or Vincent in PJs!!
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Sniffles thank u
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velvetcake96 · 2 years
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He is beauty, He is grace, He has a bird who will steal your face.
(Image was supposed to be transparent, don’t know what happened there...)
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fierykitten2 · 8 days
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Here’s me once again thinking about the fact that we’re getting a Direct at some point in June and what that means for me as an F-Zero fan (probably nothing because who likes F-Zero amirite (sarcastic)) and a Pokémon fan (probably nothing because Game Freak likes to do their own thing. This isn’t a predictions post, it’s just me saying what the best case scenario would be for me
I think this would be a great chance for Game Freak to announce some Z-A stuff given we still don’t know anything other than it’s coming out in 2025, it’s entirely set in Lumiose City and you can say goodbye to the freedom of being able to choose all six of you team without having to reserve one in order for you to stand a chance against half the NPCs, not that competitive is likely to be possible in this game and they’ll probably remove Megas again in Gen 10 in favour of a more interesting, less restrictive gimmick (though will it be as cool as Terastalising? Probably not) Megas are returning. And if that’s not there (or even if it is) we could get some side game info and you know I need the Proto Beasts and Neo Swords in a side game at some point (obligatory okay I’m talking about Z-A how can I hype up SV/the Pokémon in SV?)
As for F-Zero, for some reason (the Metroid Prime remaster leak eventually becoming true) I do still believe that Nintendo (I’ve spent so much time in the last few months talking about Game Freak I keep accidentally trying to call the company who makes F-Zero “Game Freak” instead of Nintendo. Ironically at one point I did start work on a fan comic where I imagined Game Freak working on F-Zero which involved a Pikachu, a Charizard and an Eevee (who wasn’t allowed to evolve) joining the Grand Prix. I never finished it and don’t intend on working on it anymore) could be working on a GX remake (so you guys will just forget about the GX remake/remaster leaks but you won’t forget about the Zelda remaster leaks and will keep on insisting they’re true not that I doubt those leaks either and okay I get it the F-Zero leak hype brought us to F-Zero 99 being a thing (and the day after the release of The Teal Mask and I don’t think we celebrate that enough as an F-Zero fan and a Pokémon fan) but I do remember at least one of the F-Zero GX remake/remaster leaks being from a vaguely credible source and what’s to say Nintendo (okay that time I really did try to type Game Freak) aren’t thinking let’s just do this now for the Switch in its last year so no one buys it bc they’re too excited for the successor to the Switch who’s buying Switch games anymore lol? Or you know they could do that accidentally but you know that’s what the entire F-Zero fandom would believe they were doing)
I’m just gonna say it though, if a Direct features both F-Zero and Pokémon it’s automatically the best Direct we’ve ever had
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jamminvroomvroom · 7 months
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second time around.
ln x fem!reader
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in which he’s quite desperate to have a second kid.
staying in my active era! there is honestly no excuse for this one, i just simply couldn’t help myself. it’s porn, yes, there is plot, but it’s just. porn.
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! where do i even begin? smut, more smut, breeding kink (kinda the whole point), choking, overstimulation, general sex acts, public sex, car sex, shower sex, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of the kid they already have, lando being a little shit, sex somewhere unhinged in the mtc, a brief moment of angst, dom!lando, rough sex? yeah.
3.9k words
take: 1
the season is coming to an end.
somewhere between italy and singapore lando decides he wants another kid.
it’s a warm day in the middle of september when he proposes the idea to you. you’re watching your daughter toddle around the garden, soaking up the last remnants of sunlight before the darkness of autumn encapsulates the warm beams until march.
she giggles, pushing her toys around in the grass. you let her play, lost in her own little world of wonder. lando turns to you, scanning your side profile, watching you watch the little girl. he’s awestruck, enamoured totally by the family he’s created, by the woman he loves. he doesn’t think, he just opens his mouth and let’s loose his big idea.
“want another one?” he cooes, sliding closer across the bench, until he’s nosing at your cheek. kisses are pressed to your puffy face. it’s still early.
at first you think he’s offering you another coffee, so you hold out your almost empty mug to him. you’d been nursing the drink, letting it go cold in the naturally cooler air. he laughs at you, and that’s when you clock what he’s actually asking.
you turn to him, facing each other now. lando looks excited. you wonder if you can find a way to mirror his expression.
“lando…” you start. his face drops at your tone, letting him down easy. “it’s not that i don’t want to, it’s just-“
“i’ll be home more. i’ve worked it all out. if we get to work now, baby will be here around the summer break.”
you mull over his words.
your first baby was a shock to you both, and you didn’t fancy doing that again. you loved lando with every fibre of your being, just as you did your daughter, but being away from him so much in the lead up to her arrival shot every one of your nerves to pieces.
but another baby would be on the agenda eventually - you both desperately wanted to add to your beautiful family - and you supposed that if he’d done the math…
“by get to work now, you mean…?” you cock an eyebrow at him. he lights up like the christmas tree you’d be putting up in a few months.
“she’s going down for her nap soon.” lando smirks, voice edged with that excitement once again.
-
his head is between your legs mere moments after he shuts your bedroom door.
you’d been waiting for him, stripped bare in anticipation. your baby girl would be down for a good few hours, more than enough time for him to draw out everything you had to offer and fill you back up.
his tongue runs over your flesh; he’s messy with it. you’re choking out whimpers as he licks and laps and tugs with his teeth. your pussy clenches around nothing and he notices, sliding his fingers all over where you ache. they’re quickly wet enough to slide inside of you, and he grinds them deep, luring traces of an orgasm into the pit of your belly. it’s familiar, the way he winds you up, and you want him like this every minute of the day.
“getting you ready, honey. gonna get you so fucking ready.” lando is slurring words into your cunt, letting them get lost to your sodden folds. you hear every word perfectly. they make you shake and shake until you’re undone.
when he looks up at you, his mouth is glistening. his fingers are, too. he hates wasting a drop of you, so he laps up the mess you’ve made while he shuffles up the bed. when he’s finally hovering over you, he’s desperate, but you’re worse. you could cry from the urge.
something carnal is taking place; he’s staring into your soul, finishing up the remnants of your taste, and you’re begging with your eyes, hands slinking all over your own body. you must be dripping by now. your body is restless and you raise your hips, inviting him close, deep.
when he thrusts into you, he’s pinning you down into your shared mattress. you’re completely at his mercy and he fucking loves it. you love it more. you go slack underneath him, and he starts a slow grind. he’s not thrusting, not yet, he’s just rolling into you, deeper, deeper, deeper. you feel the first tears threatening to fall. he feels so good, it’s unbearable.
he nudges at your most sensitive spot, over and over and over. you whine carnally and he swallows it, licking into your mouth. his curls tickle your forehead, you’re pressed so close together. he sees the pools in your eyes and then he looses it completely.
hand on your neck for leverage, he starts thrusting, harder and harder, faster than you can ever recall. he knows you can take it, knows how bad you want it, and that thought alone spurs him on. you have the same goals, the same shared instincts. you feel nothing but pure fucking bliss everywhere.
“you want me to fill you up? you want my baby, honey? want me buried nice and deep?” you hear him grunt, but he sounds so far away.
you are lost to the void when you come. you can’t even try and resist, not when you can hear how wet you are, not when you can hear the quiet whimpers he tries to fight at the way your pussy convulses around him. you cannot see anything but the stars in his eyes.
you go limp and he spills, fucking it even further into you. his eyes are trained on where you’re still joined, and where he’s still fucking you. you’d be screaming if not for the hand wrapped around your throat. the most delicious piece of jewellery you own.
lando needs to know he’s gone as deep as he can, that you’ve come as hard as he can make you. he feels unhinged when his fingers find your clit, switching between short spasms of his finger on the nub, and grinding down on it with his palm. you’re both overstimulated, soaked with sweat and other things. you’re gripping his cock so fucking tight that he can’t stop the rush of moans, your name mumbled like a prayer between expletives.
but still, he needs to know it’s deep enough.
an hour later, you can finally move, and you sink deep into the bath.
your head is on his chest, he washes you gently. you wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl.
-
date night
almost a month passes. no sign of baby number two.
it’s fine, you tell yourself. you tell lando, too. all the more reason to keep practicing.
every opportunity he gets to bury himself to the hilt inside of you is a win in both of your books. he grabs every single one of those opportunities with both hands.
you’re dressed up nice for dinner, little black dress hugging you well. you watch the scenery flick past you. lando’s in the drivers seat, making small talk, his left hand heavy on your bare thigh. you’ve just dropped your daughter off with her grandparents, your mother hugging lando tight. he’d been gone a while.
fingers skim higher up your thigh. you want to let him carry on but this car is new, untainted by his adventurous personality and your willingness to comply. your legs snap shut and you watch him smirk out the corner of your eye.
“later.” you whisper.
his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.
“i know. don’t you worry, honey.” he doesn’t sound convincing, no, he sounds like a man with a plan and you dread to think of what he has in store.
the restaurant is tiny. a hole in the wall. it’s intimate, exclusive, slightly extortionate, but lando likes to treat you. you order, and he behaves. you sip wine, and he behaves. you drag your heel up his leg, and still, he behaves. you know something is brewing behind those stormy eyes.
he launches his attack during dessert.
vanilla ice cream hits your tongue when he strikes, leaning back in his chair. his thick neck captures your attention, the dim light accentuating him just right.
“would your prefer we take this to the car or the bathroom? it’s pretty spacious back there, you know.”
lando speaks so casually, and slightly too loudly. your cheeks are aflame.
“lando!” you hiss in warning. you’re sputtering over his boldness, catching some ice cream with your tongue. he watches the way it moves over your lips intently.
“actually, as tempting as the bathroom is, we still need to break in the new car.” lando sounds like he’s talking about the weather, or a shopping list, not the location of your next sexcapade. you swear you see the old lady at the next table over wink at you. “your choice, honey.”
you’re staring daggers at him. he leans in closer, elbows resting on the table and a shit eating grin contorting his pretty face.
“i’ve been gone too long, i need to remember what that pussy feels like.” his voice has dropped an octave but it’s still too loud. you inadvertently grind against the chair. the candle on the table flickers from the force of the shaky breath your expel.
“if you shut up now, you can have me anywhere you want me.” you mumble, bringing your napkin to your lips. the ice cream is melting and you have more important things on your mind.
“i’ll have you anyway, honey. because no matter what happens, we’re gonna go back to the car and you’re gonna crawl into my lap, aren’t you? you’re not gonna be able to help it.” he keeps going and you want the ground to swallow you up. maybe you want to crawl over the table and jump on his lap right here. you fight every natural instinct.
“lando.” you try to scold him again but it comes out breathier, a feeble attempt at shutting him up. it’s hard to be convincing when you want nothing more than for him to bend you over in the middle of this restaurant.
“and after i’ve had you shaking on my lap, i’m gonna fill you up, yeah? you’ve been waiting for weeks, poor thing.”
you usher over the waiter, and ask for the bill.
-
he’s got you home in one piece and all the way up to the shower.
you’re still delirious from the car. he’s still dripping out of you.
he pushes you against the shower screen, your cheek resting on the fogged up plastic. the combination of yours and his first orgasm is enough to slick him up and he slides right back inside of you, as if he’d never left.
your head is spinning, car lights and nail prints in leather seats flashing through your mind.
he’d been right in the restaurant. you’d crawled straight into his lap and he’d been waiting, seat pushed back, cock slapping up against his tanned belly. he’d swiped his fingers through your folds, determining that you were wet enough already, and then you’d sunk straight down on him.
at first he’d just watched you lose control, bouncing and grinding and whining on his lap. you were growing tired when he stepped in, pushing you back against the steering wheel, the angle change making your eyes roll back. you came twice with his fingers on your clit and his other hand holding you down so he could grind up into you. he’d released deep into you, all you could do was shudder, collapsing into his chest.
now, he’s taking you again, the hot water cascading over you both. you’re almost limp, caught between the cold screen and his hot, restless body. this it was three weeks apart does to him, and the urge to claim every part of you is at the forefront of his mind.
you’re writhing. there’s no room to move; he’s pressed so tight against you, breathy moans sounding straight into your ear and you want him impossibly closer. you always missed him so much it hurt, but that pain had increased tenfold lately.
you try to roll your hips back into him, needing him deeper, somehow. you’re so wet and tight around him, and your attempt at moving on him has you clamping down on him.
lando whimpers when he lets go, marking you as his.
he washes your hair and you fall asleep together naked.
-
the fear
lando is due back from qatar.
any minute now, he’ll be walking through the door.
he’s taken a podium, so you are expecting somewhat high spirits, despite the slight issue that had been the sprint race.
a podium is a podium, you’d tried to tell him on the phone late on saturday night. you knew that a podium was never just a podium.
you’re cleaning the kitchen up, your sweet daughter tucked up tight in her bed upstairs. a random playlist is sounding from the speakers and you flit around in just his hoodie. it hits mid thigh and it’s keeping you shielded from the biting october air.
you hear keys in the lock somewhere in the distance. you grin stupidly. god, you always fucking miss him. you turn to face the doorway, eagerly anticipating his face, longing for one of his speciality hugs.
instead, a storm enters your kitchen in the form of your boyfriend.
you raise and eyebrow.
“lando?” you question.
your hips are in his hands before he can answer. he’s walking you backwards until the granite of the counter is digging into your lower back.
“turn around.” his voice is gravelly, commanding. you do as you’re told.
the hoodie is bunched around your waist, your panties are tugged to the side. you can hear the rustle of fabric, assuming he’s getting himself ready. two fingers gloss through your folds while he pushes you down, bending you over for him. he’s rubbing circles into your clit and you’re keening into his touch.
“you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” you manage to choke out. he grunts in response.
“just need to get inside you.” is all he replies. well, okay then.
lando rearranges you, hiking one of your knees up so that’s it’s resting on the countertop. your other foot barely touches the floor when he fucks into you, ruthless. you cry out, reaching blindly behind you for him. you graze his hip and he shivers, pushing into you even harder.
he’s frantic, messy with it, thumbing at your clit. there’s hardly any room to move his hand, so he’s grinding the pad of his thumb as best he can. the pressure builds in your belly embarrassingly fast. you love when he gets like this, but you will pry what’s wrong out of him later when he curls up into his chest.
“gonna give you another one. s’all i can think about. fucking you full.” he mutters. your back arches into him.
“please.” you whimper, slurred. it’s all you can think about too.
your plea ushers along his orgasm, and he drops his head against your back. you’re shaking when you finish; he stays buried deep for a moment, silence washing over you.
when he helps you stand up, he kisses you deep. he brushes the hair from your face, says hello properly.
“wanna go see her.” he mumbles.
-
when you finally manage to climb the stairs, you see straight into your daughters room.
lando is stood over her crib, watching her sleep in the lamp lit room. he’s cooing something to her that you can’t make out. your knees are weak at the sight. you want to fill this house with children that look like him and laugh the way he does.
he catches you watching, sending you a wink, a promise that he’ll meet you in bed. when he finally does, drawing back the sheets and dropping into bed beside you, he wraps himself around you instantly.
“talk to me.” you command, toying with his hair in a way that you know turns him into mush in your hands.
“can’t win a race, can’t give you another baby. just- fuck.” he sighs, voice so small. you tear up but you push that aside for now.
“stop, lando. don’t do this to yourself.” you try to sound firm, attentive.
“just- am i good to you? am i good to her?” he needs to hear you say it, that’s the only thing that will talk him down from this spiral. he’s exhausted, and this is often a consequence.
“sometimes i think you hung the stars in the sky.” you hum, kissing his forehead.
gentle snores lull you to sleep.
-
quickie
you go with him to austin.
it seemed logical, after the events of qatar. your daughter has been stolen away by lando’s dad, who is showing her the paddock and introducing her to mechanics. you watch on, momentarily, because then lando is stealing you away.
“haven’t you got fp3 in a minute?” you ask, coy smile on your face. he’s pulling your jeans down and kicking them away.
“this won’t take long.” he smirks.
you crave the upper hand for a change. his race suit is already undone, so you make your move. you tug down his fireproofs, taking his cock in your hands. he’s hard already, glistening for you. he groans, but doesn’t make you stop.
you’re watching him through your eyelashes, his head tipping back in pleasure. you work your hand around him, up and down, applying pressure at the base and around the tip. it’s flushed red, wet in your hand and he looks too pretty to stop. he can have you later, in your hotel room, you think. right now, you’re having him.
lando is panting, thrusting into your hand when he comes for you. you’re soaked through, and he can probably see the damp patch on the panties. his release hits your stomach, painting your flushed skin white. your eyes scan the room for something to clean yourself with, but he beats you to it.
thick fingers swipe through the mess he’s made. your panties are tugged to the side and then he’s fucking you with said fingers. you cannot produce a thought, mouth gaping open in the shape of an ‘o’. the sight before you has you gushing, and he uses that leverage to speed up.
“you think i’m gonna let it go go waste, honey? silly girl. pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters.
your hips are bucking into his hand when he pulls out of you, collecting more of him from your belly, and then he’s thrusting them in again. you tear up from the pleasure coursing through you, white hot. he’s crazy, you think, but he’s so fucking beautiful, teasing glint in his eye as he curls his fingers deeper.
“want it so bad, don’t you? gotta keep you full for me, don’t i?”
you’re sure you can be heard from the garage when your orgasm hits.
-
office party
a burnt orange dress clings to your hips and a curly haired man clings to your hand.
the mtc is lit up for another gala that you and lando have to attend. the season is over and they’ve had a great run, so a toast must be made to celebrate that.
you watch him get passed around the room between sponsors and other important people, proud of what he’s achieved. you hate sharing him, but it’s a necessary evil, so you drink champagne with oscar’s girlfriend, lily, and natalie pinkham.
when lando comes back to you, his PR smile is dropped and that genuine, boyish grin returns that you have so missed in his momentary absence. he introduces you to some people, proudly showing you off, sinking drinks as he does.
it’s nearing 10pm when his actions become questionable. his hand stays on your ass, his words whispered in your ear are filthy and his sly kisses on your neck stop being quite so sly.
you remove him from the main event, just for a moment, just to try and get him to compose himself before you jump him against one of the vintage racing cars. he sees this as an invitation, however, and then everything goes awry.
he’s dragging you into the lift, kissing you against the closed doors. when you stumble out a floor up, you can still hear the function in full swing. he’s pulling you down a hallway and into what you assume is an office. when he has you sat on a desk, you realise where you are.
“is this zak’s office?” your eyes pop out of your head, bewildered.
“maybe.” he shrugs. he’s smirking like a bastard.
“you’re insane.” you shake your head, standing from the desk, but his lips ghost your ear and you’re putty in his hands.
“you’re driving me insane. coming here in this tight fucking dress. can’t stop looking at you, thinking about this.” his hand rubs over your lower belly as he speaks, and then you’re back on the desk.
lando’s on his knees, peeling the silky material over your thighs until your barely there panties are in his face. he mouths over them briefly, and then they’re gone and his tongue is buried to the hilt in your cunt.
it doesn’t take him long to get you off, the alcohol and the thrill of being in the one place you should never have sex pushing you quickly towards your orgasm.
the glass wall of windows is too inviting for lando to pass up, so on shaky legs, you’re pressed up against them, looking out over the pond and the fairy lights when he pushes into you.
he’s kissing over your shoulder, your neck, holding your down on him while he thrusts up into you. you turn your head to kiss him, to let him swallow up your noises that could give you away.
“you’re so fucking good for me, honey. letting me have you here like this just so i can give you a baby.” he slurs against your lips, pussy drunk and ravenous.
he finds your clit, fast fingers making small swipes against it and you want to cry.
“gonna make this time count, yeah, honey? gonna keep it all inside of you until we get home?”
you try to nod, try to say something but you’re choking on air and dripping all over him. a couple more thrusts and you’re the perfect vessel for him to release into, throbbing and hot around his cock.
“beg for it, honey, come on. tell me how much you want it.” lando mumbles right in your ear.
“lando, please. please, please, please.” you whimper. “come for me, baby, need it inside of me.”
you leave the office a lot more composed than when you entered it. well, aside from the remnants of him that are running down your inner thighs.
-
a month later, lando’s laughing. he’s actually laughing, while you cringe, burying your blushing face in his chest.
you’re holding a pregnancy test in your hands, finally a positive one.
when you do the maths, you realise where baby norris was conceived, and you try and make him promise never to tell anyone that it was in his boss’s office.
“it’s a funny story.” he tells you. there are tears in his eyes.
“you’re so lucky i love you.” you roll your eyes. you are also dangerously close to crying.
but truthfully, you’re the lucky one. he carries you to bed that night, claiming that now you had a baby on board, you had to be careful!
you dream of him, that night. the man that hung the stars in the sky.
-
once again, idk what came over me i’m sorry lmfao
-
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removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3
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joelsgreys · 3 months
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baby, i’m yours
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: You remind Joel that you’re his.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION however she does wear Joel’s t-shirt and he semi lifts her onto a counter? sorta but not really? UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (Joel is in his 50’s but reader’s specific age is not mentioned). established relationship, sort of. consumption of food (if you are allergic to peanuts, i so sorry). angst, Joel and Ellie’s strained relationship is lightly implied, Joel is insecure, it’s implied reader did some horrible things in her past, reassurance, brief smut, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, consider it a quickie idk. apologies if i missed anything.
word count: 2.6k
a/n: this short lil thing has been sitting in my drafts forever. i finished it while i was in ireland and finally had the chance to sit down and do a quick edit and when i say it was quick, i flew through it so i could hop onto my next wip so please excuse any errors! here’s a spotify link to the song if anyone’s curious, it’s an oldie but a goodie although it may not be everyone’s cup of tea.
main masterlist l fic notifs
Joel rolls over in bed, his arm outstretched and seeking the warmth of your soft, naked body.
“Mmph,” a small, sleepy groan falls from his lips as his long, thick fingers feel around on your side of the bed—of his bed. Of course, you have your very own bedroom in the house you all had been placed in when you first arrived in Jackson. Your very own bed to sleep in is just down the hallway, but lately, you’ve been waking up beside him a lot more often than not, especially now that Ellie’s a bit older and she’s gone and made herself her own space out in the garage behind the house. Being under the same roof as Joel did those two more harm than it did good, and while you missed having her around, it was for the best.
“She’ll come around, Joel,” you’d assured him. “I know she will. She just needs a bit of time is all.”
“Hope you’re right, darlin’,” he had murmured sadly in response.
Still lost somewhere in between sleep and full consciousness, Joel continues feeling around for you, but all he finds are the wrinkled sheets, cold and abandoned. Confused, his eyes finally flutter open and with a painful protest from his sore, stiff back, he sits up, blinking furiously as he looks around the darkness of his bedroom. The door’s been left cracked open ever so slightly, and as his vision adjusts now that he’s fully awake, he notices the dim glow of the hallway light that’s peeking through into the room.
He turns and glances over at the old digital alarm clock perched on his nightstand, the obnoxious, bright red numbers practically screaming at him that it’s a quarter past midnight. With a small, tired grunt, Joel switches on the lamp beside the clock and swings his legs over the side of the mattress, goosebumps erupting across his flesh the instant that his bare feet meet the cold, hardwood floor. He stands and fumbles around for his clothes, which he’d tossed carelessly somewhere over his shoulder hours earlier when he’d been lost in the heat of the moment with you. He finds his faded, navy blue sweatpants strewn across a chair next to the door and pulls them on over his naked lower body before searching for his t-shirt. When he doesn’t immediately see it, he doesn’t bother, figuring that it’s just going to come back off when he climbs back into bed with you.
Padding out of his bedroom, he makes his way down the hallway, heading towards the staircase. As he draws closer, he hears it—the soft music that’s coming from downstairs.
Baby, I'm yours
and I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky
yours until the rivers all run dry
in other words, until I die
He’s led towards the kitchen and that’s where he finds you.
Joel wants to be annoyed. 
Fuck, he tries to be annoyed. But he can’t help the way that the corners of his mouth threaten to turn upwards when his eyes take in the sight before him.
You’re standing at the center island slowly swaying your hips from side to side along to the beat of the song that’s playing from the record player perched next to the instant coffee maker on the counter behind you. He’d nearly wrung your neck when he found out what all you had traded just to get your hands on it, but you loved that thing more than life itself it seemed, so he couldn’t stay mad for very long. You’re making yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—the peanut butter you’d learned how to make yourself with the old food processor he found deep in one of the kitchen cabinets, and the strawberry preserves you had picked up from the market earlier that week. Clad in nothing but his t-shirt, you’re singing along quietly to the lyrics as you finish making your late night snack.
Baby, I’m yours
and I’ll be yours until the sun no longer shines
yours until the poets run out of rhyme
in other words, until the end of time
Joel leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he watches you carefully lick the remnants of peanut butter off of the knife you’re using before setting it down on the counter. You then pick up the two pieces of bread and slap them together—you’d also learned how to bake homemade bread using some old nineties cookbook you had found in the commune’s library. Your sourdough is the reason he had to go up a notch in his belt.
Sandwich in hand, you do a little spin, humming happily as you take your first bite.
Joel loudly clears his throat from the doorway.
Startled, you whirl around and freeze, your eyes wide.
“Enjoyin’ yourself there, darlin’?” He asks amusedly as he approaches you.
“Jesus Christ! You scared me, Joel!” You hiss at him. You then realize what time of night it is and a look of guilt crosses your features. “Oh shit. I’m sorry, did I wake you up? I honestly thought that I had the volume down low enough in here—”
Frowning, you turn around and reach towards the record player to turn the music off, but much to your surprise, Joel stops you. “No, s’okay. I woke up on my own,” he assures you. “I reached over for you and you were gone.” The admission slips before he can even think to stop it. He notices how taken aback you are by what he’d just said and quickly asks, “What’cha doin’ up so late, anyway?”
“I was hungry,” you tell him, sheepishly holding up your food. You always have one hell of an appetite after Joel was through fucking you senseless. You take another bite and offer it to him. “Want some?”
“Sure.”
He accepts and takes a corner of the sandwich before handing it back to you. His fingers brush against yours and his face burns at the contact.
Fucking Christ. 
You’re standing there in nothing but his fucking t-shirt after he had, yet again, made you his in his own fucking bed, and that’s what gets him?
Truth be told, the only time he holds your hand is when he’s inside of you—his fingers lace with your own as he comforts you and praises you for being such a good girl for taking his cock the way you do.
For being so, so fucking good for him.
He’s thought about taking your hand in front of others. Particularly when he notices the way some of the men in town stare at you. Joel wants to make it known that you’re already spoken for. Only, you’re not spoken for, not really. 
You’re his, but you’re not really his. It’s not that he doesn’t want to take the leap and acknowledge the two of you are far more than just patrol partners, far more than just two people who fought like fucking hell to get some smart assed teenager—and the world’s only hope for a cure—across the country.
He feels undeserving of it. Of you and your heart.
Several seasons had come and gone since you’d both arrived in Jackson with Ellie in tow, and somehow, Joel still can’t fathom what you’re doing by his side. She’s out of the house now and there’s nothing tying you to him, so why are you still here?
He’s so much older. Closer and closer to being on his way out, while you still had your entire life left ahead of you. He’s worn down, hardened from the post outbreak world. And you, you hadn’t lost any of your softness, your sweetness. Not even after the things you’d been forced to do to survive because of him.
You could meet someone younger, someone closer to your own age. You could marry, even start a family. You could be with someone who could give you a good life, the life you deserve.
The life that he’s too fucking broken to give you.
“Joel?” Your voice breaks into his thoughts. “Hey. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. M’fine.” He gestures to the record player with a nod of his head. “Y’know, this song’s older than me. By a few years. Came out in the early sixties.”
Joel half expects you to make some wisecrack joke and tease him over his age like you have done in the past—especially when the kid would get you going. Instead, he watches you set what’s left of your sandwich down and brush the crumbs from your hands before holding one of them out to him.
Confused, he stares at it for a moment before his dark eyes meet yours. “What are you doin’?”
“Dance with me,” you say, smiling at him.
“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me, right?” When he realizes you’re being serious, he shakes his head. “Y’know I don’t—I can’t dance.”
Dropping your hand back down to your side, you turn around and flip the record, starting the song over again before whirling back around and taking Joel’s hands in yours.
“Just follow my lead,” you tell him as you place them on your waist. Your own hands settle themselves on his broad shoulders, his skin warm beneath your fingertips. “Don’t overthink it.”
“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” Joel grumbles underneath his breath, however he finds himself moving along with you without further protest. Subconsciously, he pulls you closer against him as the two of you slowly sway from side to side along to the beat of the music. He chuckles, “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”
“And your point is?” You rest your head on his shoulder and exhale a soft, contended sigh.
Joel’s lips threaten to pull down once more.
Could it be that you’re actually content with him?
Head still on his shoulder, you sing along softly with Barbara Lewis. 
“I’m gonna stay right here by your side
do my best to keep you satisfied
nothing in this world can drive me away
‘cause every day you'll hear me say…”
It quickly becomes too much for him. Joel’s hands leave your waist. Taking your wrists, he tugs your arms from around his neck and gently pushes you away from him. “Why?” he finally asks the question that’s been hanging off the tip of his tongue for the better part of the last three years. “Why me?”
You stare at him, puzzled. “What?”
“Why me?” he repeats himself. “Why me when you can have anyone else—”
Your reply is prompt and you say it so simply.
“Because I don’t want anyone else.”
“You deserve better.”
You peer at him curiously. “I deserve better?”
“You do. Ain’t got no business being with someone like me. After all the terrible shit I’ve done—”
“I did the same exact shit, Joel. Sometimes I did even fucking worse.” Somehow, softness laces your tone. You have never been angry with him and you weren’t about to start now. “What makes my hands any cleaner than yours?”
Joel begins to sputter. “M’older than you. Much older. Should’a been a lot more careful. Should’a done more so you didn’t have to do those things.”
His hands still curled around your wrists, you reach up and gingerly cradle the sides of his face. He winces, but then quickly melts into your touch, the very same touch that could heal his wounds, if only he would allow it.
“I made my own choices,” you remind him, quietly. Neither of you realize the music has stopped. “Quit acting like blood doesn’t stain my hands too because it does.”
His lips press into a tight line. “Blood stains your hands ‘cause of me. S’my fault. I was responsible for you. I was s’pposed to take care of you. I didn’t protect you the way I should’ve.”
You sigh.
“When are you going to stop blaming yourself, Joel?”
The muscle in his jaw ticks as it clenches. He averts his gaze, his eyes falling to the floor. He doesn’t answer.
You stroke the scruff of his beard lightly with your thumbs. “When are you going to stop thinking you’re not good enough for me? What’s it going to take for me to prove to you that you are all I could ever need and want?”
“You’re just wastin’ your fuckin’ life on me, darlin’. S’the truth and you fuckin’ know it as well as I do.”
Pulling your wrists out of his hands, you pivot on your heel and suck in a sharp breath, stubbornly blinking back the tears stinging your eyes. You’re frustrated.
It cuts you to your very core to know the man you’ve grown to love more than anything and anyone else on what’s left of this fucking planet can’t see that he’s enough. He’s more than enough.
Joel bites back his own frustrated sigh. He knows he can’t rely on you to tell him, rely on the reassurance—he needs to do his part and believe it. If he keeps trying to push you away, he just may very well succeed one day. He will lose you.
After a moment, he walks up behind you and wraps his arms around you, his lips lightly brushing your neck. “M’sorry,” he mumbles, his own voice thickening as a lump forms in the back of his throat. He’s quick to swallow it down. “Jus’ have a hard time believin’ you’re mine. S’almost like my mind is lookin’ to prove me wrong.”
“But I am yours, Joel. I’m yours, I’m fucking yours.”
It’s more than just reassurance. It’s an oath, one you’ll honor for the rest of your life.
He holds you tighter. “Yeah?” He nips at the delicate spot right below your ear, his teeth scraping along tender flesh. “S’that right, baby? You’re all mine?”
“All yours,” you confirm breathlessly as his hands slowly begin trailing down the length of your sides, his fingers skimming the hem of his t-shirt.
Joel swiftly turns you around in his arms and slips his hand between your thighs. The next thing you know, he has you backed up against the counter and he’s shoving his sweatpants down, freeing his hard, thick cock. With one of your legs hooked around his waist, he buries himself into the warmth of your cunt and begins to deliver smooth, languid strokes.
“Say it again, baby,” he rasps into your neck. He coaxes your other leg up and around his waist and his large hands curl securely underneath your thighs as he bucks up into you. He’d deal with the back pain later. He pants, “Need—need to hear you say it, my sweet girl.”
You hold onto the countertop behind you as he fucks you, your fingernails digging into the laminated wood. “Fuck, I’m yours,” you moan into his shoulder. “I’m all yours, Joel. Oh fuck—”
You say it over and over again and he believes it.
He finally fucking believes it.
Sweet nothings fall from his lips with each thrust.
“S’lucky you’re all fuckin’ mine.”
“My beautiful, beautiful girl.”
“Gonna keep you for the rest of my fuckin’ life.”
When he spills into you, there’s no regret on his part nor yours. You’d always wanted to feel him come inside of you—secretly, so did he. Joel’s deep, guttural groans bounce off of the kitchen walls as your pussy fills with him, with all of him, taking as much as it can before he begins leaking out of you and down the insides of your thighs.
“Jesus,” he exhales. He dips his head for a kiss. “You’re all messy now, baby,” he mumbles against your lips. “How’s about we go upstairs and get back into bed so I can clean you up?”
Giggling, you mimic him and remind him of what he’d said earlier. “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”
Joel grins. “And your point is?”
You laugh again as he leads you out of the kitchen and back up to his bedroom—to yours and his bedroom.
2K notes · View notes
nezuscribe · 6 months
Text
𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮
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pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: you have everything you could have asked for in life. a beautiful home in greenwhich, just far away from london so that you don't have to mingle with city life, but close enough to be surrounded by the ton. a library with all the books you could ask for and a friend you care for dearly. all except for the man of your dreams, who just so happens to be your best friends brother. worst of all, he only sees you as such. his sisters best friend. (bridgerton!au)
warnings: 18+ mdni, gojo doesn't know how to communicate his feelings, slight angst (with comfort), smut, eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, (happy ending)
word count: 17.3k+ (i have no idea how)
note: yes, this is inspired by penelope and colin. yes, i know that colin isn't a viscount. their story is coming out later than expected so i took matters into my own hands. tysm @jadeisthirsting for beta reading! (if you saw this the first time no you didn't, i hope tumblr doesn't glitch out again)
jjk masterlist
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You had a great life, as far as it went. 
You were born into a wealthy family, far more wealthy than they deserved to be. You had maids at your beck and call and did not need to worry about the future as long as you acted correctly. You had book upon books, as many as you could dream of, so long as you didn’t bore your mother too much with them. You had any sort of food you could dream of and you had the most caring friend in the world who loved you very much. 
Honestly, what more could a woman ask for?
“I say we move the whole ordeal to Friday, seeing how Satoru is only arriving on Wednesday. But my mother insisted that we keep in on Thursday because the rest of London just couldn’t wait to see my dashing brother…” Lily continued her furious rant as she paced back and forth the vast expanse of your family’s drawing room, shaking her head in clear frustration. 
“And you want it to be a day later…because…?” You sipped quietly on your tea, trying to keep your smile at a minimum. It was hard not to get giggly when Lily’s face got red and her eyes bugged out of her sockets. For such a pretty girl it tended to shift her features whenever she got angry or annoyed. 
“Well, he’s going to be tired!” She stopped her pacing as she stared at you with her mouth a bit open as if it were the most obvious answer, “And whenever Satoru is tired he’s so difficult to deal with. He’s going to want to talk about his travels for at least three days before he’s ready to mingle with the rest of the works!” 
You nodded heavily, showing her that you were completely on her side. 
“Has he written to you?” She asked and then quickly shook her head, despite the fact you were going to answer with a quiet yes to her question. He had written you a few letters, all of them stashed in your vanity as you read over them, each going over his travels, sometimes sending you little knick-knacks he saw. 
“Not the point. What I’m trying to say is that my mother always goes over the limit with how much she welcomes her children. And Satoru for that matter! Christ, he’s twenty-five and unmarried!” 
You wanted to sink into your seat in embarrassment. You were only so much younger and had never had even an interaction with a suitor before. 
Life was great, for the most part. 
As much as you couldn’t complain, there was a small matter at hand that was growing increasingly more alarming the more the years went on. 
For as long as you could remember, you and Lily were set on never getting married. Ever since she read that one Jane Austen book she was hellbent on independence and no men. You tagged along, seeing how that was a better excuse than admitting no man had even asked you to join him to be his partner to dance before.
Lily didn’t seem to care much for this. While she was set on her celibacy pact, she had been approached before. It doesn’t change much, but it did at least show her that somebody wants her. You were either such as a spinster or married to some ancient man your mother had to dig out from some corner of the market. 
“And Satoru…” Lily rambled on, but all it did was remind you of an even worse fact. 
You were terribly in love with her brother. 
You have known the Gojo family for ten years, five months, twelve days, and two hours, and you have been in love with Gojo Satoru for ten years, five months, twelve days, and thirty minutes. 
Their family had immigrated from Japan months before the oldest child was born, but they had only moved to Greenwich ten years, five months, and ten days ago. You met them only two days later when you accidentally wandered into their gardens, unknowing that a family had just moved in. 
The first time you met that particular Gojo, you were thirteen and facing serious issues with yourself and your own family. You wanted to move to America in hopes that the boys over there would fancy you more and your mother forbade it. Satoru laughed when he saw your horrified face popping up from their blackberry bush, definitely not expecting to see anybody there. 
“Hello there,” the stranger called out. You thought he was a grandfather with the way his hair was artic white, but he only seemed to be a bit older than you the closer he got. 
“I’m not stealing from you I swear!” You cried out as you let the blackberries tumble out of your stained hands. You cannot be taken to prison, you simply wouldn’t survive. 
“I can see that.” He crossed his arms as he tried not to laugh at the way your dress was stained a dark blue color. 
He introduced himself, and Lily, and soon, you and the girl were attached at the hip. 
It didn’t help that as kind and as charming as he was, he only saw you as his sister's closest friend. It also didn’t help that every other woman in high society seemed to be in love with the man and it certainly made it so much more horrific that he seemed to have his eyes on everybody else but you. 
He, much like his sister, was averse to the idea of marriage, but for a completely different reason. 
He seemed to despise the idea of being committed, which is most likely why he had been traveling the entirety of Europe and Asia for the past year or so. Despite his mother’s frantic worrying about setting him up with a respectable lady, he pushed them all aside and fled (in some sense) and will be making his grand appearance a couple of days from now. Everybody is chattering with excitement. You’re trying not to fill with total impending dread. 
It had already taken everything you had to pretend that he didn’t exist and that he had simply disappeared, and you knew your wretched mind would fall for him just as quickly as it did the first time around when you were set to see him next week. 
“...and, are you even listening?” Lily asked, her voice garbling back to life as you snapped your eyes back to hers, covering your mouth with your teacup as you insistently nodded, trying to keep your smile from faltering as she squinted her eyes to look you over and see what was wrong.
“I’m totally in tune with you Lils,” you insisted, nibbling on a cookie to help you with nausea which only seemed to make it worse. 
“Hm,” she grunted, not seeming to believe you but not truly caring as she continued, “And thank the heavens you’ll be there beside me, for who knows what would become of me in such an unruly crowd of men and women just waiting for my brother to make his entrance. I’d lose my sanity.” 
Yes, you thought, how lucky. If only love worked that way, of ignoring it until it faded. If only.
“I’ll be there.” You promised. 
For better or for worse, you’d be there. 
---
The ball was just as you had imagined it. 
Extravagant, elegant, large, and incredibly crowded. 
One of the perks of being an outsider in these sorts of scenes is you didn’t have to dance anymore (no matter how much it stung the first time around getting used to this fact). 
Lily was off somewhere, being forced to socialize. Your other sisters were also lost in the crowd, either dancing or being swooned by a potential match. 
You were yet to see the man of the hour, but then again, so was everybody else. He was either hiding away or being swallowed whole by the hoards of people eager to get a glimpse of him. 
Not that you wanted to see him, of course. Just curious. 
The food was, as always, a bonus. Nobody was going to judge you for scarfing anything down when you had begrudgingly sworn off marriage, and perhaps one of the good things about Lily's pact was that you didn’t care much about the public eye anymore. 
“Please, at least act like we’re not starving you.” Your mother pleaded, unfortunately, stuck to your side for the night as she eyes you and your plate. 
“I’m trying my best,” you reasoned, making sure you didn’t drop anything on your dress. 
“The Viscount is coming tonight,” she tried to think and you snorted, earning some distasteful looks from the widows around you. 
“And he’s just dying to see me, I suppose?” You rolled your eyes at the idea, to help the sting from your own words. It was better to be rationable than to be delusional. 
“Well it doesn’t hurt to-”
“Try?” You cut her off with another laugh as you chew on an eclair, “Might as well. Right after the Princess introduces herself I’ll go up.” The two of you eye the girl in the diamond-encrusted gown with an equally bright tiara on her head. Your mother gave up the argument. 
For the last couple of days, you have been at a mental war with yourself. On the one hand, it surely must mean something if he wrote you letters. On the other one, he wrote it to his entire family and he probably views you as such. No matter how much you want to pretend that the Gojo cares for you, it won’t be in the same way that measures how much you care for him. 
“I’m going to get some more of these macaroons, I’ll be right back.” You excuse yourself as your mother pressed her lips into a thin line, wanting to push you to dance but knowing no amount of persuading was going to change your mind when it was already set on something. 
Wading through the dense crowd was certainly a feat, but you did it nonetheless. From the dessert table, you could barely make out the pop of chartreuse that was Lily's gown, and you wondered how much longer until she’d be free to giggle and gossip with you. 
Your eyes scanned over the little sweets carefully as you mentally weighed which one would taste good and which one would be a surprise in the kindest sense of the word. The colorful ones were often pretty but they tested either too bland or too bitter and the ones with caramel side sugar tended to be too sweet. All the good macaroons with the pistachio filling were gone, which was odd because you could only count on your fingers how many people aside from you tended to favor that one. 
“Looking for something?”
A green macaron was held in front of your face, slowly forcing you to turn your head in its direction as it began to pull away from you
Him. 
“Oh!” 
Oh? If only you could hit yourself in the head that would be great. 
“Oh?” Gojo chuckled, his brows pinching together in slight confusion at your reaction as his lips threatened to pull into a teasing smile, “I haven’t seen you in a year and that's what you’ve got to say?”
You try not to let your heart flutter at his cheeky manner as you roll your eyes, your smile growing as you take him in. 
He’s gotten taller if that was even possible. His hair is still as white as it was, and it seems that no amount of sun was going to change that. He’s gotten a little bit tanner, no longer that frigid pale hue to his skin that made you worry he’d drop dead at any moment. He’s unfortunately more muscular, which just means you have to cast away the scrawny image you’ve made in your mind in hopes that he’d come back anemic. 
His eyes are just as captivating as ever, blue and inviting. His jaw is sharper and yet he has no facial hair on his face. Which you prefer on most men but you’re glad he’s never given into that trend. 
Most importantly, he still looks like that boy you fell in love with so many years ago, and no time away would ever change you at your core. 
You try to not let your neck prickle with heat as he seems to assess you the same way you're doing to him, try not to feel self-conscious as his eyes roam over your features. Sure, a person can change in a year, but you wouldn’t bet you’ve changed that much that would warrant this amount of staring.
“So…?” 
“‘Toru, hi!” You snap out of your state, watching as his face picks up and breaks into a grin as you set your plate down somewhere, seemingly now realizing that Satoru is here and in front of you, “My, you’ve grown so much!”
“Really?” He looks at his torso and his arms as if he can’t believe it. 
“Well, a bit,” you curse at your awkwardness as he cocks a brow, “I’m sorry, I’m a bit out of my element tonight. I apologize for my earlier reaction.” You duck your head down for a second as he waves it off, hopefully not offended. 
You’re glad this little table is tucked away in an alcove away from most of the public eye, and the only people around the two of you are older people and the people standing outside in the gardens. Either they don’t see the man or they’re being somewhat human and granting the two of you some privacy. 
“Apology accepted, but not needed,” he teases, patting your shoulder affectionately as you try not to act as if that single touch made you reconsider the idea of marriage. 
“How are you?” He asks after a beat, not affected by your out-of-character attitude as he tilts his head to the side. 
“As good I could be,” you offer him a wink that came off as an elongated blink, “Whatever Lily filled you in on has most likely happened to me too.” He chuckles, his laughter the sound of melted honey. 
Fuck, you’re never going to get over him. 
“And you? How were your trips?” You egged him on, eyes tracing him, watching as some pink dusted over his cheeks. 
“Boring. Couldn’t wait to come back.” He says, but you can hear the sarcasm in his voice. Mixed with the way he couldn’t contain his bits of laughter, you laughed alongside him. 
“I’d believe it if not for your tan and newfound outlook on life, or so it seems from how Lily describes it.”
“She exaggerates everything,” he waves it off, and you wonder what that double-edged sword implies. 
“I-”
“He’s here!” You hear a loud voice cut you off as the two of you look over your shoulder to see his mother leading the awaiting princess and her train to where the two of you are standing, “He seems to be getting warmed up with this fine lady!” She says your name as heat rushes to your cheeks in embarrassment. 
It was only seconds before you were surrounded by men and women you had never seen before, all hanging off of Satoru’s words as he scrambled to answer all of their questions. 
And so it begins, you say to yourself as you push away from them, going to find Lily as you wonder why you even try. 
You miss the way he calls out for you, quiet enough so that nobody else hears it, but loud enough that his chest tightens in confusion at the sheer desperation of it. 
---
“I despise men!”
You’re at the Gojo estate for once, and Lily has started a new tirade that has lasted for the last hour. 
“What brought this on?” You press, exchanging worried glances with Satoru and her younger sister as she groans, jamming her palms into her eyes as she vehemently shakes her head. 
“Does this,” she shoves her hand, more importantly, her ring finger without a ring, in front of your face, “Look like I’m keen on getting married to you?”
“No….?” You mutter, scared of what she would say next. 
“Does it look like an invitation to barge into my home?”
“Not exactly,” You say, earning a sympathetic look for Satoru as she glares at him. 
“Does it look like I want to get frisky in the broom cupboards?”
“Christ! Lily, your sisters here!” You shout, jumping to cover the young girl's ears. Lily waves it off and Satoru just chuckles, a twinkle in his eyes as you usher the girl out of the tea room as you slam the door shut. 
“This certainly beats the beaches in Venice,” Satoru says as you near the table again, winking at you as you laugh quietly. 
“I’m so glad I’m not getting married. You should be too,” she points her finger at you as you look up at her, “Men are nothing but evil, money hungry, sex driven-”
“Charming, majestic-” Satoru talks over her as she talks even louder. 
“Dirty animals!” She finishes with a cry. 
You and Satoru share a glance as you try to laugh. She’s not wrong, far from it. The majority of men in this place needed to be sent back to their creator, but Lily had a vein in his forehead that was protruding at an odd angle. 
“You laugh now, but you’ll be thanking me fifty years from now.” She warns as you nod, acting totally compliant with her. 
“You’re still with her on her no-marriage pact?” Satoru asks as he stands up, walking past Lily as he looks out from the window, seemingly admiring the gardens outside. He glances over at you as you sink into the satin cushions beneath you. 
“Yes,” but your answer came out shaky and unsure. 
“Of course she is,” Lily answered for you with a definite nod, “And besides, she’s the luckier one. It’s not like any man has even asked her to marry anyway.” She says jokingly, shoving a biscuit in her mouth as she plops herself down beside you, nudging your shoulder with hers as if it were the funniest thing in the world. 
You wish the sofa could swallow you whole. 
“Hey,” Satoru turns around, brows furrowed as he looks at his sister, but the door opens before he can finish his sentence. 
“Miss Gojo,” their butler, Fred, who you’ve known since you’ve known Lily announces for her as he stands at the foot of the door, “Your mother has requested your presence in her quarters.”
Lily stands up with a groan, wiping the crumbs off of her dress as she makes sure there’s nothing around the corners of her mouth. 
“I’m needed elsewhere,” she pats your arm caring for it despite having her words wanting to make you plummet yourself off of a cliff, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You give her a weak goodbye, watching as she leaves with the door shutting behind her as you sit up a bit straighter, getting ready to leave yourself. 
You stand up, careful not to make any eye contact with Satoru out of sheer embarrassment as you smooth out the wrinkles in your dress, hoping the silence would suffocate you faster than it would him. 
“Lily talks too much sometimes,” he finally says, stepping away from the window as he takes a two closer to your direction, before passing, “I’d apologize on her behalf but I’m pretty sure she’s already forgotten what she’s said.” He tries to lighten the mood and bless his soul, but you can already feel your spirits for the day sour. 
“It’s alright,” you promise, though he seems to disagree but you continue anyway, “I know her, she doesn’t mean it.” Still doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt, a part of you chides. 
“Are you leaving?” He asked, taking another tentative step forward. 
“I was planning on it,” you say with a little chuckle, hoping that your eyes watering up wasn’t too noticeable, “Is that alright with you?”
He looked at you with his bright eyes and just blinked, taking a while to reach his senses. 
“Y-yes! Yes, quite alright. Let me just get my coat…” He muttered, brushing past you as you quickly tried to reject his incoming offer. 
“There’s no need!” You run a bit to catch up to him and his fast pace, “My house is barely two skips away,” you lamely joke, hoping he’d give it up. You wanted to wallow in your self-pity on your walk home, not have to converse with the one man who’d inadvertently give you more to pity over. 
“Not a chance,” he argued, draping the coat in question over his arm, “What sort of person would I be if I let you walk out alone?”
Any other person, you wanted to say but stopped yourself. 
“I don’t mean to bother you…” You wrong your hands in a nervous state, eyes darting everywhere but his. 
You were trying to work on your silly crush this past week, which had unfortunately ramped up ever since he came back. In response, you worked out that the best solution to getting over it was to act like he didn’t exist and ignore him whenever possible. Clearly, it was working out completely in your favor. 
“Not a bother at all.” He insisted, linking his other arms with yours as you jumped a bit in surprise. He was forward, if anything. 
“Fred,” he calls out, getting the butler's attention as you try to hide yourself away, “Tell my mother I’ll be back in a bit.” The man just nods, opening up the front doors as Satoru leads the two of you out. 
The sun was out and working away, which didn’t help with the heat already prickling away through your skin. The Gojo estate was large, but hidden away, and for that you were glad. You could only imagine the gossip that would arise if certain ladies in society were to see you (helplessly) draped over the bachelor's arm. 
“Are you enjoying being back here?” You asked, trying to exert your confidence when you were feeling anything but. 
It’s not like you were unsure of yourself at most times, it’s just that when you’re around the one man you’ve been in love with since childhood and he feels nothing of the sort, you can’t help but be more conscious over everything. 
Satoru looked at you, shrugging as he pursed his lips, thinking of an answer. 
“I missed it,” he says, “But I mainly came back for my family and my friends and well…” He trailed off, chewing on his lip as he waved off his thoughts as if it didn’t matter, “Nonetheless, now that I’ve been around them, I remember why I wanted to leave.” 
And sometimes, despite him not wanting to, made you feel as if you were the most important person he’s had the pleasure of talking to, when in reality that’s just in his nature. 
“Is Lily pestering you too much?” You tease, a little smile on your face that wrinkles the edges of your eyes. He simply stared at you again, his eyes bright. 
“That,” he playfully tugged on your arm, “And the fact that my mother has bombarded me with the idea of marriage. And Luke is having troubles with his fiancé  and Annie doesn’t want to learn to read…it’s all just very chaotic.” He finished with a tired laugh, as if that’s all he could muster up. 
“Seems like a normal day in your house, if I’m being honest.” You lament, kicking a pebble with the point of your shoe. 
“I guess so,” he heaves a sigh that comes out dramatically, “Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve put up with it all these years.”
You scoff, digging your elbow into his side a bit to show that you were offended by his statement. 
“Your family is perhaps the closest thing I have to a second family!”
“And who says family can’t get on your last nerve?” He argued, and that shut you up. He was, indubitably, correct. 
“Yes, well,” you stumble to find some reasoning and he laughs seeing you falter, knowing that he got you cornered, “‘Toru, you are simply a horrible influence to be around.” Is all you can come up with, and despite the severity of your words it only seems to spur him on even more. 
“And yet you can’t seem to get enough of me, can you?” 
You almost stopped in your tracks, your heart seizing in your chest as you try not to fumble up your well-made facade of indifference. 
All you could remember upon his statement were the words he spoke so long ago, not knowing you’d heard them. 
“Charles, you don’t get it, I don’t want a wife!” Satoru exclaimed as he snapped at his friend. It was a gala held at the queen's palace and you had strayed too far away from Lily and found yourself hiding behind a wall as you eavesdropped on the conversation. 
“Not even the Princess?” Another man pushed as you heard Satoru let out a heavy sigh. You peeled around to see him pinching the bridge of his nose. 
“I don’t want to be tied down. You saw what happened to my parents.” He argued. A part of you sympathized with him. 
“Well,” you could make out this voice as his younger brother, two years older than you he went to thinking, “What about that friend of Lily’s? She seems nice enough.”
The hair on your arm pricked upwards. Surely they couldn’t be talking about you. 
“Who?” Satoru asks and his brother says your name in a hushed whisper, as if you held more weight in your title than the Princess did. 
“Her? No, absolutely not,” he said with such disgust that his friends thought he was joking, “You’re out of your mind if you’d think I’d want to court her.”
Your heart, full of love and hope and dreams cracked, crumbled in your chest. And you left, running away because that’s all you knew how to do and sobbed your eyes out to Lily, stating that you heard somebody talking bad about you, refusing to admit that it was her own brother that was causing you to break in front of her. 
A part of you felt pathetic for still caring for him after that night, but there’s not much fight in you when it comes to the people you loved. You pulled away, sure, and stopped your lame excuses of flirting, but you never stopped. He never found out that you heard, so he continued as your friend and you continued as the shameless woman. 
“Right,” you swallow thickly, glad that your estate is now growing closer and closer, knowing that you feel sick and can’t handle it anymore, “Thank you so much for your help, but I’m sure I can make the treacherous journey on my own now.” 
You wring your hand away from his arm, you smile wobbling as you tip your head in his direction, watching him try to make sense of your quick change in nature. 
“Let me take you up to your door,” he started but you raised your hand to silence him, shaking your head. 
“That would be too much to ask for. I will leave you here…um, Satoru,” you say politely, not noting the way his jaw clenched at your sudden formality when addressing him, “I’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully.”
And you left quickly before he could say anything else. You must stay focused on the reality of your situation;
Your best friend's brother just simply wasn’t in love with you. 
---
“Miss,” 
You perked up from your chair in your quaint little library, setting your book down as you watched one of the maids, Ella, politely calls from the door. 
“There’s a gentleman outside calling for you.”
Your brows furrowed as you found a marker so that you don’t lose your place and purse your lips together in questioning. 
“Do you know who…?” Your head cocked to the side as you stood up, walking near her as you wondered if it were that delivery boy who said he’d come with the new copies of the Brontë books you’d been eyeing for the past month. 
“It’s the Viscount Gojo, miss.” She said simply. 
Your face dropped, and you watched as confusion spread across hers. 
“Him? Here? Did he say what was wrong?” You began to rustle around, trying to find something to throw on top of your slip. 
Did something happen to Lily? Did she run away? Was their mother in trouble? You could recall her telling you that her head was aching, could something serious have happened because of that? Christ, you should have told somebody about it rather than comfort her and make her tea. Was he leaving again? Perhaps-
“He said he wanted to see you miss, that’s all he told me.” She seemed apprehensive, judging your face to see if you were maybe feeling ill due to your reaction. 
“Um, alright, just,” you hurried around, trying your fastest to get to your room, “Tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes! Don’t tell him I’m preparing myself, just say that I was discussing matters with somebody!” You call out as you sprint across the halls, not hearing any confirmation as you lock yourself in your room, ransacking your closet to find something not too flashy but not too boring. 
It took a good four minutes just to find a suitable dress and another five to make your face and hair look presentable enough as you scampered down the stairs only to find said Viscount waiting in the foyer. 
His face turned to yours as he heard your heels clicking on the marble, growing into a bright smile as he dipped his head down to greet you. 
“Hello,” he said your name with that smooth voice of his as he took his jacket off and kept it on his arm, “I’m sorry for turning up on such short notice.”
“It’s no problem,” you try to catch your breath for the first time in the last ten minutes as your chest heaves slightly up and down, “No problem at all. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
He takes a second to respond, eyes scanning your features, your clothing, your chest as it tries to catch a solid breath, and you feel yourself look down to make sure there aren't any noticeable wrinkles in the fabric. 
“I, I just wanted to drop in. See how you were doing.”
You tried not to look even more startled, but your brows creased once again as you gnawed on the inside of your cheek. 
“I’m quite alright…thank you…?” You couldn’t look that out of the ordinary, right?
“Good, that’s good,” he watched as you finished your descent down the stairs, slowly coming towards him as you waited for him to finish, “I’m sorry if I interrupted your conversation with…?” Ella did give him a name you wanted to guess. 
“Lord Cornwallis.” You finished for him, not knowing why that was the first name that came to your mind. It was true that he had been here yesterday, but you didn’t talk much to him in his brief visit. 
“Lord Cornwallis?” Satoru repeated back in shock, his brows shooting upwards as he did nothing to hide his outburst. His face quickly turned into one of disgust, which accurately represented the emotions you felt yesterday when you eavesdropped on the conversation he had with your mother behind closed doors. 
“Yes, you just missed him. He went out through the back door,” why were you making this web of lies even bigger? You have no self-control, do you?
“What was Cornwallis doing here?” 
You but your tongue, having to come up with a lie or tell the truth as to why he had visited yesterday. Either way, both options turned out with horrible results. 
“He asked for my hand.” The truth it was, then. 
His brows seemed to disappear into his hairline as his jaw slacked, mouth wide open. Damn your mind, you should have just lied. 
Lily was wrong in one thing, perhaps. You have gotten a few marriage offers in the last three years, but by all men who were older than your grandfather. You hadn’t even told Lily about them and now you were telling her brother. 
“I…” Satoru couldn’t even find the right words to say. You wanted to bury yourself in a hole. 
“…Cornwallis? Isn’t he-”
“Pushing ninety-nine? Yes.” Nobody was sure of his age, and ninety-nine was perhaps even being too generous. Everybody knew that Cornwallis was simply ancient. 
“Did I save you from the conversation at least? I must say, if there was any man I would wish ill upon, it’s certainly him. He’s a lying old cheat.” He tried to joke again but you swallowed thickly. Perhaps if he came at the same time yesterday he might have. But he didn’t and you had to sit through an hour of him pleading with your mother as the two of you just stared in abject horror and surprise. 
“Yes well, thank you…for doing that.” You lied, cleaning your teeth together as you tried to smile, not wanting to hurt his feelings as you came up closer to him, desperately hoping to change the topic of the conversation. 
“Is everything alright with Lily?” You asked his eyes that were focused on the floor jumping to yours as your lips parted, worry still clear on your face. 
“Yes, of course, I just wanted to ask a favor of you. But, judging from your encounter with men today I would understand if this is pushing it,” he cut right to the crux of the matter. He seemed nervous, which was an odd emotion to see on a man otherwise very confident and sure in himself. It unsettled you. 
You tilted your head, waiting for him to find his words and continue. You could make out the slight blush on his face, the pink hue that spread across his cheeks, and the tip of his nose. He was, by all means, the cutest person you’ve ever seen. 
“My mother's holding another ball, two weeks from now, you see,” his lip caught between his teeth, “And she’s been bugging me about having a date for the night. She wants to appease the rest of the gentry, I suppose. Would you, by any chance, like to be that?” 
You stopped computing his words. 
“...It’s honestly just to get her off my back. And you wouldn’t have to stay with me the entire evening, you could do whatever you’d like after we get some of the necessities over with. Lily was the first who suggested the idea, she said you wouldn’t be doing much other than gossip with her. Of course, if you don’t want to I certainly won’t force the idea, but it’s merely a suggestion.” His blue eyes, ever so convincing and round and caring bore into yours, and despite your better judgment you find yourself nodding. 
“I wouldn’t mind it,” you say a bit breathlessly, completely forgetting about Cornwallis and the way you were debating it and the fact that this means nothing at all, and would most likely cause you more harm than good. 
His nervousness washed away into a big smile, and you cursed yourself at the little flicker of hope you felt deep in your soul as he scrambled to find the right words to say to thank you. The flood of gratitude and appreciation stabbed deeply into your heart as he kept repeating friend, but you were too hopeful for love. 
Your mother always said that loving would always be your greatest weakness. 
---
You should have said no. 
The amount of eyes that were focused on you was enough to make you nauseous, and you couldn’t get sick for you hadn’t had anything to eat today with how hurried everything was. 
Your arm was draped around Satoru’s, and he held tightly onto your hand. He was the image of luxury and charisma right now, and if you were in the crowd looking as he made his way through the crowd you almost would have wanted to bow. 
Time came by a lot faster when you were totally freaking out over it, and before you knew it, you were put in a dress you hadn’t even picked and corseted to the heavens. Your hair was done with extra detail, and they even went as far as putting some Swarovski’s into it so that when the candlelight hit it, you’d sparkle twice as much. 
Satoru, ever the gentleman, had picked you up from your estate as he walked you to their home amidst all the chaos of getting ready for another ball. In all honesty, you have no idea how their mother manages to keep her sanity through all of this.
You were still a bit giddy from your earlier interaction with Satoru, although it didn’t do much to calm your nerves now. 
“I’m sorry for taking so long!” You had said as you rushed down your stairs, careful not to trip over your train as you put your earrings in. Ella said that he was waiting for you downstairs, you just underestimated how early he’d be. 
“Don’t apologize…” He had turned around from admiring a painting, his eyes widening a bit when he saw you. He quickly shut his mouth, but you had already gauged his reaction. You tried not to let it get the best of you, but you could have sworn he blushed more often than usual when you interlinked your arm with his.
“You’re cutting off my blood circulation.” He whispers in your ear as you try to smile, your eyes nervous as they dart around the room. How could it be even bigger than that last ball? Did they suddenly meet thirty new people? 
“Maybe you could cut mine off.” You snap back through your teeth, your hand gripping his wrist as tightly as you could. 
“How are we supposed to dance if one of us is dead?” He grumbles back, putting on a little grin as he makes eye contact with his mother, and then goes back to whispering, “It’s just one song and you’re done. You’ve done this before.”
You wanted to shove him to the ground. 
“No, I haven’t!” You say loud enough that he hears but try to mask it so that nobody else does, “I told you yesterday this is my first time dancing with somebody!” As embarrassing as it was to admit, right now you couldn’t be bothered to care as he led you to the middle of the room, standing in first position as you two waited for the orchestra to begin. 
“Are you saying I’m your first?” He teased, his tongue poking out from between his lips as he watched you grow mortified, rubbing the back of your hand in a comforting way as his means to apologize. 
You wanted to go ahead and argue but the cello and violins started and you were whisked away by his calculated movements, and the only thing you could do was follow in his lead. 
The two of you practiced a bit in the days leading up to this, but it was a lot different when your only crowd was Lily and her constant whining about how boring it was. 
Now, with everybody staring at you and him, it was far more daunting. 
“Don’t look at the ground, look at me,” he whispered in your ear, smiling when your eyes traveled to him. He tried not to crack when he saw the pure loathing and hatred in them, but at least you were looking up and not at his shoes. 
“‘Toru I’m never doing a favor for you again, you owe me.” You groan, letting him twirl you around in a circle as some of the ladies give a polite clap. 
“Name your price.” He egged you on, bringing you back flush against his chest as his hand found purchase on your waist. 
“Not money,” you grumble, eyes twitching as your heart beats rapidly in your chest, you’ve always wanted to dance with him, sure, but not under these circumstances. 
“Books?” You consider it but shake your head. You deserve something bigger for what you’re putting yourself through. Shocking enough, after being a wallflower for so many years, you weren’t handling being in the spotlight too well. 
“I’ll think about it. But it has to be big.” You warn and he lifts up his pinky on your waist to show you his unbridled loyalty to keeping true to your words.
“Where are you going after this is done?” He spins the two of you around, and you watch as more couples rush around the two of you. It’s less stressful when others are dancing, but you still feel tense. 
“I’m probably going to stay with Lily outside.” He seems to deflate a little, though he still stands tall, his suit never crinkling through his movements. 
“No more dancing?” He teased but you vehemently disagree with the idea. 
“Never again.” It’s not as though you hate it, in fact, a younger you would have been jumping with glee to be able to dance with Satoru. But after years of growing accustomed to watching rather than participating, you can’t grow out of that habit. 
You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to see the Princess herself as she looked at you with pleading eyes. 
“Would you mind if…?” She motioned to Satoru and then to you. You barely noticed the number coming to an end, and the rupture of applause was the last thing you heard before you scrambled away from him. 
You didn’t even notice how he had held onto your hand tighter, not wanting to let you go.
“O-of course, your majesty.” You winced at your select choice of words and how you said her title almost as if you questioned it. 
“Thank you.” She mumbled and for somebody of such high regard, you wouldn’t think of her to need to plead with somebody, especially you, to be able to have a dance with Satoru. 
Your job for the night was done, successfully might be too loose of a term, but finished nonetheless. You chose not to look back at Satoru, knowing that the wide grin he’d save for the girls he was interested in would only twist that knife deeper into your heart. 
You were a sadist in the most pathetic way possible.
You waved goodbye to Satoru as another number started again, and tried your best to get away from all the twirling bodies as you headed out to find Lily. 
It didn’t take long until you found her trying to weasel out some information from her brother, tapping him repeatedly on the shoulder as he tried to fight her off. 
“…what did you hear, what do you know?” She pressed as he groaned, obviously trying to have a private conversation with the lady next to him. 
“Nothing Lily!” He locked eyes with you as he almost begged silently for you to take her. 
“Lily, I’m here. We can go now.” You looped elbows with her as you dragged her away, giving her brother a quick smile that said you accepted his gratefulness. 
As you walked through the stone path in the garden, she muttered dejectedly about how she was just about to get some good information out of him. 
“How was dancing with Satoru?” She finally asked after a while. The two of you weren’t alone, but far less crowded than it would if you had been inside. 
“Stressful, but the song was short so I wasn’t needed for too long.” You tell her honestly. If there’s one thing you can’t do with Lily it’s lie, for she’ll sniff out of you the moment you come up with it. 
“You look flustered.” She noted, looking over your face and the sweat that dotted over your cheekbones. 
“You dance in a sweltering room like that with the entire ton looking at you and try not to get flustered.” You reasoned and she seemed to buy it. It wasn’t a total lie, but a stretch of the truth. 
“You know,” Lily had terrible balance and often collided with you as she walked, “I was talking to my mother and despite her insistent warnings, I think we should make it official.”
“Make what official?” The lights from the candles above you illuminated her face and she had that look of mischief that either excited or frightened you. 
“That we plan to be unwed.” She grinned cheek to cheek and all you could feel was that same wave of nausea that had been prickling at you since the start of the night. This was the last thing you needed to hear about right now. 
“They’re going to think we’re either lunatics or lovers.” You say with a sullen and heavy sigh, looking up at the sky in some sort of desperate manner as you wait for some sort of angel to save you from this conversation. 
“And what’s the issue with that? Let them think. You have always said you’ve wanted this, so let’s let the world know.” 
Something you wish Lily was was to be more aware. As loving, thoughtful and caring as she was, she never seemed to pick up on the little things. For one, you doubted she noticed just how quiet you got whenever she brought up this conversation. You’d give her the benefit of the doubt and say that you rarely talked much when it came to marriage, but that was just so that you could save yourself from the ongoing embarrassment of never having experienced love or some sort of feeling that somebody would feel towards you to genuinely want to be your husband. 
Not only that, but far from Lily's point of help, is the fact that ever since Satoru has been back, your childish feelings have come flooding right in with him. No matter how many tea sessions you have with Lily and have him sitting in the background, either reading the morning's paper or jotting things down in his journal, it always spins to him sitting right beside you as you talk about anything under the sun. 
And while you know your hopes of marrying him are just too far-fetched, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic. Something Lily just hasn’t ever been able to pick up on when around you. Which is shocking, seeing how the only novels you’ve read for the majority of your life was centered around such a topic. 
“Listen, Lily, I’ve been thinking,” you pause for a second in your place, staring at the pebbles arranged in the formation of a star as you swallow your bile, “That maybe…” 
You were nervously wringing your hands together, a sign that Lily knew all too well. She could read you like any of her books, and she let out a gasp, covering her mouth with a shaky hand as she pointed an accusatory finger at you. 
“No,” she dug the finger into your chest, “You’re thinking of breaking up the pact?” It comes out breathless. Her soft curls of white that had been done up beautifully were slowly falling down as she shook her head in pure shock, not giving you a chance to talk. 
“I mean this is just brilliant. Brilliant! What am I supposed to do now, go out into the world alone as a spinster?” 
You stuttered, your fingers interlaced with one another as you tried to calm her down from causing a scene. Trying to shush her came to no avail as you wring your hands away from her, acting as if your touch was burning. 
If the Gojo’s were anything, it’s overly dramatic in places where dramatics were certainly not needed. 
“Please be rational,” she urged you as she clutched onto your wrists, suddenly pleading to you with her wide eyes, “The season is almost over and you haven’t had any offers. Sooner than later we’re going to be thirty, then forty, then fifty, and husbandless. We should say it now so that it doesn’t come off as a pathetic cry to hold onto what little decency we have in the future!” 
Christ, you hated that she was being somewhat logical. But her rationality stung, the way melted wax does when it burns the skin. She didn’t know just how much she was hurting you, and you doubted she ever would. 
“Look, I know I’m probably not going to be offered a chance at marriage, but it wouldn’t hurt to at least try.” You try to reason with her as she sniffs, her eyes squinted as she looks at you in anger. 
“This was our pact and you’re going against it! What’s next?”
You were going to argue that this pact was only made on the basis of her having too much champagne to drink and you being sullen over her brother, but you were cut off from getting the chance to do so. 
“What’s your issue?” 
You turned around at the familiar voice as you saw Satoru nearing you, Lily continuing her rant as she seemed to completely miss that her brother was coming towards the two of you. 
“What?” You felt overwhelmed with having two Gojo’s corner you, both rather angry from the looks of it. 
“I know that this isn’t your scene but you said you’d be my date. You don’t have to dance with me, but at least be there.” He looks like he’s seething, and you’ve never seen this look on him before. It’s jarring, to say the least. 
You feel like your head is about to explode. 
“I just-”
“....and my mother was only more confident in the idea if you were doing it!” Lily exclaimed, causing you to look back at her as she urged you to think about it. 
“...my mother has given me at least twenty women to mull over in the last twenty minutes. It would have been none if you just acted as my date for the night!” Satoru’s voice rose, and you felt like your heart was going to actually stop. Your head was spinning, your vision was blurry, and you couldn’t hear anything besides a loud ringing in your ears. 
“I’m sorry but-” The two of them talked over you, so stuck in their own worlds that they didn’t notice the tears pricking at your eyes or the way you seemed to be short of breath. It would probably be one of their greatest flaws, never noticing something until it was far too late. 
“Stop!” You cried out, earning some looks from the people around you as you rubbed at your forehead, already feeling it ache under your touch, “Please! Listen, just for a bloody second!” 
You took a deep breath and began. 
“I’m a fucking romantic Lily, and nothing’s ever going to change that! I always have been! And I want to get married, I just agreed to your pact because I know I’m probably never going to get that chance! And god, how can your only takeaway from reading Persuasion be to abstain from marriage?” Your nose crinkles in anger as you turn around to point your finger at her brother's chest, watching as he takes your reaction in obvious surprise. 
“You!” You cry out and he almost backs away, “I was trying to give you some courtesy by leaving! God forbid you gave anybody the idea that you were courting me!” You quickly wipe at your eyes but it does fuck all of hiding how you truly felt as your lips wobbled.  
“Why would…?” He's breathless, no longer angry, just utterly confused and a wee bit frightened. 
“We both know you’re too good for that. How’d you phrase it, you’d be out of your mind if you did such a thing?” You throw his own words back at him, and you watch in some sort of mixture of triumph and heartbreak as realization washes over his features. 
He finally remembers. 
“I…” he swallowed thickly, running a hand through his hair as it fell out of his face, rubbing at his jaw as you looked at you from beneath his lashes, “I didn’t…” but he can’t finish his sentences and instead stops, sharing an unreadable look with his sister as they then look at you. 
“I’m going home.” You say after a beat of silence, breathing deeply through your nose as you look away from the two of them. 
“Let me-” Satoru started but you raised a hand to stop him. 
“I think I’d be better off alone.” You snap, nostrils flaring as you shake your head, pinching the bridge of your nose as you try to stop the already impending migraine that is about to come. 
For once in your life, you didn’t care about the eyes boring into your back or the way that whispers flew around you and twisted around your throat like a vine. You were glad that nobody else other than the servants was home as you ran up into your room, locking everybody else out as you sobbed into your pillows. 
---
The days following your (well-deserved) outburst were more than rough. 
To your knowledge, Lily has visited a total of ten times in the past five days, sometimes twice in the same one, while her brother has visited a grand total of zero. You didn’t expect much from him, but this really cemented your quickly growing disdain. 
Your mother informed you constantly that she was trying to put out the fires from that night but you couldn’t bring it to feel too bad, after all, you were glad that you didn’t say anything more drastic. 
“This is just so unlike you!” She cried, shaking in disappointment as you munched on some sweets you nicked from the kitchen. 
“I know,” you chuckled, “I’m so proud of myself.”
She just throws her hands in the air as a sign of utterly giving up and storms out of the room, most likely to meet with somebody else to “clean up the mess.”
She was right for some part, you can’t remember the last time you actually told somebody how you were feeling. It’s not healthy on your end, but growing up with three older sisters who always got it their way meant that you had some lack of backbone. 
Lily and Satoru, as much as you cared about them, didn’t live like that. Their mother loved them all equally and she made sure that all of their voices were heard. She was always making sure that their priorities were met and she never made them feel inferior. 
Which somehow, didn’t pass on to you. 
Loving the way you do got tiring when you got nothing back, and giving everybody your all when nobody seemed to notice it felt as though you were alone in a world full of people who cared for each other. You’ve read the books and heard the stories, but you eventually realized that it simply just wasn’t in your cards to be dealt the same thing. 
They cared, you know they did. But sometimes, it felt like they expected your care in order for them to show it to you. 
“Miss?” you heard a faint voice and a knock at your door. You sat up from your slump as Ella slowly came inside, shutting the door soundly behind her. 
“Did my mother ask you to make sure I haven’t flung myself off the balcony?” You dust away any crumbs from your pull over as you stare out the window. 
“I’m making sure you didn’t.” 
Your head snapped over at the familiar voice only to see Lily standing at the foot of your bed, looking out of place with her bright purple dress. She looked like she was teetering back and forth between staying out and sprinting away, and you admired her courage after how many times you’ve turned down her offer. 
You glared at Ella but she was no longer there, leaving you and Lily alone. 
“You’re just in time then.” You say blandly, standing up from your bed as you make the covers and are careful not to come too close to her. She seemed to notice. 
“We can’t go about this forever,” she stated, rounding the corner of your bed as she took three steps forward while you took one back, not wanting to be cornered again the way you were that night, “This silent treatment is killing me.”
“Then die,” you don’t mean it and she knows it, but her face wobbles for a second and you watch in horror as tears spring to Lily's eyes. 
The last time Lily cried the two of you were fifteen and her brothers had effectively ruined the singular dress she had actually been looking forward to wearing by staining it with ink. You spent at least an hour calling her down and trying to rationalize with her until you finally gave up and offered to cut holes in all of their suits. 
You’re not sure you could do that now. 
“I’m sorry!” She sprung herself forward at you with full throttle as she hugged you tightly, “You’re right! There’s nothing wrong with being a romantic!” You don’t know what to do as you stand there in shock so you awkwardly pat her back, her long white hair never loose so you’ve never really seen it to its full extent. 
“My brother and I have been at war with each other trying to put the blame on somebody else but I’m sorry! You of all people deserve to find love,” she looks up and her eyes just look like oceans and it’s unfair how pretty she looks when she cries because you just look like a mess, “Please, please forgive me.”
You look as she refuses to pull away from you, clutching desperately onto the thin fabric of your nightgown that your mother reprimanded you for not getting out of, and slowly feel your hands circle around her back as you pull her into a hug. 
“Honestly,” you shake your head as she looks up at you, cheeks rosy with streaks of tears and her lip wobbles violently, “I’m probably going to be on that pact ten years from now. But I just-”
“Want to try!” She finished your sentence for you, something the two of you always prided in being able to do, “and that’s respectable too!”
You try not to smile but the corners of your lips tug upwards as you nod, Lily waiting with bated breath as she scanned your reaction. 
“Don’t ever treat me like that again, you hear me?” 
She vehemently nods, pulling away as she wipes at her eyes, holding out her oinks finger as she waits for you to latch on. Sure, it was a childish way of making a promise, but Lily was never the serious sort of person. If anything, this is the most you’ve ever seen her apologize about something. 
“I promise with the depths of my soul. If I do, brand me with an iron.” Your eyes widen as you go to disagree but she won’t take it. 
“I swear.” She repeats gravely. 
You look at her pinky for another second before you bring yours up, not believing that this is still how the two of you go about making amends. 
“Alright then,” you heave a sigh, “I forgive you.”
Her face breaks into a wide and toothy smile as she pulls you in for a tighter hug, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs as she pulls back away. 
“You’ll never regret this, I swear,” she looked radiant, but quickly stopped as she looked down at the ground, trying to gather her thoughts on how to break the news to you, “Now, be prepared for another one.” 
You blink slowly, brows furrowed in confusion as you lean on your bedpost, arms crossing as your lips purse. 
“What?” 
She almost looks ashamed again, looking at the clock on your wall. 
“My mother’s invited you over for dinner. Get ready to see the other Gojo.”
---
Your mother, as difficult as she was to deal with at most times, somehow understood the concept of showing off through a good wardrobe. 
You wouldn’t put any bets on the fact that if your outfits were significantly better you might have had at least one man approach you in all these years, but it certainly could have been a possibility. 
The cut was lower than all your normal dress, and with the help of your corset, pushed the sisters up a considerable amount. 
The color was the most flattering you’ve ever seen, and through the utilization of crystals and diamonds encrusted in the fabric itself, it shined perfectly when the light hit it. 
For the first time, you were glad your mother picked out your outfit. 
Unfortunately, the outfit gave you only so much confidence. When you walked into the Gojo estate, thankfully with Lily on your side, all the memories from that night came flooding back and your stomach flipped upside down. 
You were glad that Lily was seated next to you at the dinner table as well, but it didn’t help that Satoru was seated in front of you, glaring daggers into your face as you tried to avoid looking at him. 
“Now, you didn’t tell me about your plans for the next year, with the season already coming to an end.” Their mother, bless her heart, asked as she loaded some peas into her fork, looking at you with her kind eyes as you struggled to think of a good enough answer. 
“I’m planning on taking a marriage offer up, actually,” you say, trying not to look at Lily for you knew she was already giggling.
In the past five hours, you filled her in on everything, and she decided the best way to get Satoru to say something was if you went with the idea. 
“Oh?” You watched as she perked up in interest, as did the rest of the Gojo family. An offer? 
“Yes,” you nodded, “Lord Cornwallis, actually, if you’ve heard of him?” 
Lily was gleaming as she saw her brother clench his jaw as he stared at the side of your face that was still looking at their mother. 
“L-lord Cornwallis?” You felt bad for lying to her, but you could just come back later and say you’ve changed your mind, “He must be at least-”
“Ninety-nine?” You answered for her as her cheek warmed, “Some say he’s just in his prime, yes.” 
She drank some of her wine. 
“Isn’t that desperate?” Satoru finally said and you heard a loud clatter from the end of the table as their mother angrily sat her cup down, glaring at her son. 
“Satoru!” She exclaimed, the rest of the girls and boys watching in tense silence as they waited for your reply. 
“It’s alright,” you shrugged, fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist, “And yes, it could come off as desperate. However, I would rather go to a man who finds no problem in courting me rather than somebody who’d tell the whole world just how much it would disgust him to be seen with me.”
You could swear you heard a tooth crack. 
“I’m sorry, am I missing something-” One of the brothers piped up but Satoru acted as if he hadn’t heard him. 
“Well if that man were drunk out of his wits-”
“Then he let his sober thoughts reign free.” You finish for him, nostrils flaring as Satoru twisted the ring on his forefinger back and forth. 
“Again, Miss Gojo, I’m simply thinking over his offer.” You finish, seeing how she could barely take her eyes off of her son as she blinked towards you, giving a shaky smile as she nodded. 
“Of course, there’s no…no problem in that.” She swallowed uncomfortably, as did everybody else. You peeked over at Lily to find her just as you suspected, beaming with silent joy. 
“If you wouldn’t mind, I think my dress has come a bit undone. I’m going to call for somebody to fix it.” You say, excusing yourself as you try to go ahead with the plan you had set in the first place. 
“Make him mad, really mad. Say something about Cornwallis, he despises him,” Lily muttered, sitting cross-legged on your bed as she urged you to listen to her directions, “Then excuse yourself. Say you’ve got to use the privy or something, doesn’t matter.”
You nodded, listening intently as she laid it on thick for what she had been picking up on for the past couple of days. 
“Go upstairs and find his room, you know where it is. Be quick with it too, but there’s this box on his desk that’s full of letters. I swear on my Austen collection that there is a letter with your name on it.”
You felt your heart tumble. 
“Are you sure?” You asked, glancing at the clock to make sure you wouldn’t be late to dinner. 
“Positive. And I’d get it if I could, but he’s so secretive with his room that this is probably the one time it’s going to be unlocked. He’d never suspect anybody going snooping at this hour.”
You grinned, knowing that if you finally got that little something to use against him, he’d have no choice but to grovel at your feet for the rest of his life. 
You quickly scampered up the stairs, telling one of their mates that you’d be able to fix your dress on your own and that you’d be stashed away in Lily's room for the time being, and mentally times yourself as you quickly paced through the halls, looking for the familiar dark oak that would be Satoru’s room. 
Just when you were about to get lost in their maze of a house, you stopped triumphantly behind the last door at the end of the hall, staring deeply at it as you weighed your options. 
You quickly caved, slowly reaching out to the doorknob to see if it was locked. 
It swung open, and you let out a sigh of relief and looked around a final time to make sure that nobody had followed you before you fully let yourself inside. 
It was dark, and you left the door slightly open so that the light from the halls could sleep in a bit, and you went to work on locating the box on his desk that Lily had described to you. 
You squint your eyes, wincing as you bumped into furniture as you made your way to the corner of the large room, blindly reaching and grabbing for anything on the mahogany desk that would resemble a box. 
You let out a sound of triumph as you found a square-shaped glass-feeling thing filled to the brim with papers, holding it upwards to the sliver of light as you quickly ran through the letters with your fingers and you tried to find one with your name on it. 
They seemed like they were all unsent, with many of them labeled to his mother or siblings, and a few to his friends, but you didn’t find any of them labeled to you, and you quickly felt your heart and hopes sink. This was taking far too long.
Just as you were about to give up, you passed a smaller shaped letter with cursive that looked familiar, in the sense that you had seen it addressed before, and pulled it out only to see your name staring back at you. 
A part of you almost wanted to sink into the chair behind the desk, your heart beating rapidly in the small vastness of your ribcage as you held it back up to the light, seeing a note tucked neatly away through the transparency of the envelope. 
Your nimble fingers went to rip the seal of wax off, but stopped as the door swung open. 
“What the hell are you doing?” Satoru stood at the doorway, blocking the rest of the light as his shadow cast over you. 
You dropped the letter, quickly hiding it behind your back as he stepped in, getting closer to you as you abruptly stood up, trying to come up with a feasible lie as you rounded away from his desk, trying to get away from him and his massive build. 
“Oh?” You looked around as if suddenly realizing this wasn’t the place you were supposed to be, “Is this not Lily’s room? Silly me, I couldn’t make it out in the dark. I’ll be leaving now if you’ll excuse me…” You turned around, brushing past him but stopping when you felt his long fingers circle your wrist, turning you around as his eyes squinted. 
“Bullshit,” you flinched, never having heard him curse before as his hands felt around yours, finding the letter you were doing a terrible job of hiding, “You know this house better than your own. Why the hell are you in my room?” 
You didn’t say anything as he brought your hand out from behind your back, opening up your closed fist with much ease to reveal the crumpled-up envelope. Your chest heaved up and down, waiting with bated breath as he stared silently at the letter. You balled your fists back up again, stepping away from him as he followed you quickly in your footsteps. 
“Give that to me y/n,” his voice was low and commanding, unlike anything you’ve ever heard before, and if you weren't in your rebellious mood (and somewhat in your independent, not totally in-love-with-him mood) you would have caved, but you shook your head, looking behind you as to make sure you didn’t back into his bed frame. 
“It’s got my name on it.” You argued, knowing it was a terrible excuse, and you watched him chuckle darkly, knowing that you had no good reason for being in his room and sifting through his letters. 
“And yet it was in my room, in my letterbox, on my desk.” He snapped, eyes a deep blue and different from the usual lightness they carried. He wasn’t joking and he wasn’t lying, he needed that letter back. 
Which just made you want it even more. 
You didn’t know what to do, so the only logical thing in your sporadic mind was to shove it down your dress, hiding it in your chest as Satoru watched your movements like a hawk, not saying anything as you defiantly showed him your now empty hands. 
“Get it now Satoru,” you challenged him, not realizing you had backed up into the wall until your head lightly bounced off from it, wincing at the sting as you looked back behind you. 
He didn’t say anything, and it seemed like his mind was running as quickly as it could as he tried to deal with whatever it was you were doing. Instead, he just three more languid steps forward, nearly face to face with you as he stared down at you, eyes darting from yours to your lips and chest. 
Under any other circumstances, you would have felt like shedding your clothes off from how heated you felt under his gaze. Here, your only resort was to keep them on, to see what was so important about that letter. 
“I came to find you to apologize,” his voice is low and calm, his cool breath hitting your cheek as you struggle to keep your composure, “To be civil. To tell you that I didn’t mean anything I said that night.” 
Despite your mixed emotions, you felt your brows furrow at his select choice of words. 
“Are you here to tell me now that you actually meant every word?” You couldn’t stop the words as they tumbled out of your mouth, knowing that the answer would probably send you into a state you could never get out of as the person you’ve loved for the majority of your life confirms your biggest fears.
But shockingly, he just shakes his head, his lips pink and plush and you’ve never found yourself focusing on them more than you are now. 
If only you knew that he felt the same as he looked at you. 
“No,” he stepped closer, if possible, but still had room to shove him away. But you didn’t, not now, you couldn’t, didn’t want to as his nose nudged yours a bit, your lashes fluttering against your cheek as your lips parted, waiting for him to do something, 
“I’ll show you that I didn’t mean them.”
You couldn’t breathe, your lungs contracting as his face fell towards yours, your lips meeting ever so slowly as they finally landed on yours, soft and somehow delicate as they pushed against yours, finalizing the kiss as he began to move them. 
You’ve never kissed anybody before, often dreaming about it as you lay in bed hopelessly in love, but never thought you’d be here from the man you’ve imagined on the other side doing it with him. 
He moved slowly as if he knew that this was your first time, and you didn’t know how to handle your emotions as he angled his chin to get closer to you, his lips capturing you in such a heated and feverish pace that you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep tonight as you thought back on it. 
His hands slowly came up to your waist, tugging you flush against his body as your hands somehow found their way behind his neck, finger curling into his long strands of arctic white as he groaned against you when you tugged a bit, the sound coming from deep within his chest. 
You were impatient, always have been, and it probably took him a little bit by surprise as you quickened the pace, hungry after so many years of starving for this as you pushed against him for more fervor, feeling him smile slightly against your lips as he met you in the middle, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as you whined slightly as the feeling. 
He nipped at your lips, his tongue poking out from in between yours, and you absentmindedly opened your mouth a little bit to make room for him, heart and mind working in tandem as he brought up a hand to cradle the back of your head, making sure it didn’t hit the wall as he pushed against you. 
It was messy and hurried, and for once, it felt as if he felt the same you were feeling. As if he too wanted this, needed this more than air itself, and that thought alone made your mind stop functioning. 
Your hands moved from his neck to his chest, fingers clutching onto the satin fabric of his suit, wrinkling the fabric as your noses bumped against each other, sheer desperation showing from the two of you. 
“Viscount Gojo?” 
The two of you almost jumped at the knock that sounded from the door. 
“Your mother is asking where you are. She’s worried about the lady as well,” Fred didn’t peek his head in, and for that you were grateful. You were sure you looked like a total mess at the moment, but Satoru spoke, glancing at the door as he took a deep breath, almost as if it was his first time breathing in a couple of minutes. 
“Tell her that we’re working things out. It’ll take a bit more time.” His voice sounded steady enough, but from where you were standing you could see how swollen his lips were, the fact that they were red and glistening with sweat. His hand on your waist tightened as if he didn’t want to let you go, and your hand lay flat against his chest.
“Of course,” Fred answered, “Take your time.” He shut the door completely, and the two of you waited until you heard his footsteps becoming softer and softer until you could no longer hear them. 
You waited, looking in the direction for another second before you looked up at him only to see his eyes gauging yours for a reaction, somehow a storm going on behind them as he battled twenty different emotions. 
“I’m still hurt Satoru,” you whisper, his eyes never changing but his shoulders tense a bit as you drop your hands away from him, as if you were suddenly coming to your senses and realizing what you had just done, “I can't forgive you this easily.”
You don’t know how to handle your feelings sometimes, and sometimes they catch up to you later than they should. You could still hear his words from that night ringing around your mind and nothing was stopping it no matter how hard you tried. 
“Come get the letter when you’re ready to apologize with more than just your lips.” 
You look back up at him one more time before you push away, feeling him lightly move away from you to give you space as you smooth out the front of your dress, touching your face to make sure that none of the makeup and powder that was swiped against your face wasn’t wrecked as you left. 
You don’t look back as you left him silently in his room, shutting the door behind you as you stopped, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves as you went back down to dinner. 
---
A week passed since your night with Satoru, and you’ve come to terms with the fact that he regrets it. 
It hurts, it hurts even more when you convince yourself that he probably was trying to take pity on you and test how true his old words were, but you couldn’t spiral, knowing that it would cause even more turmoil. 
Lily came by regardless, under the impression that you and her brother made up and are on better terms, and you're in no rush to tell her the truth of what happened. 
She asked about the note, but you insisted that you couldn’t find it. She grumbled that he probably threw it away after she pestered him constantly about it. 
“What about Lord Balfour?” She was sprawled out on your bed, her legs crossed resting it up against the wall with her head at the opposite end, looking on a piece of parchment in which she had gone around asking for men looking for marriage (and a true romantic connection, she stressed). 
“Hm, too bald,” you said, sitting in your vanity, washing off the rest of the powder on your face as you dipped the soft cotton cloth back into the pitcher of water as you looked at her through the mirror, “Isn’t he a year younger than us?”
She pouted as she thought, looking back to her list as she crossed off that name. 
“Count Alexei?” She seemed to like this one and you set your towel down, trying to place a face to the name. 
“Isn’t he from Russia? Wouldn’t it be difficult for him to come back and forth?”  You asked and she nodded, although she seemed more sad that you didn’t want him. 
“Have you just gone around the ton asking if anybody’s looking for marriage?” You teased and she turned around, sitting up as she wiped the hair out of her face. 
“I take your journey to find true love very serious,” she argued and you snorted, knowing that it was a kid if that and the fact that she liked judging the men of the higher class, “Are you complaining?”
“No, of course not.” You turn around from your chair as you face her, urging her to continue. 
“Duke Cambell?” She looked up from the list with a raised brow, only to find you looking the same, taking more time to consider the name. 
“He explicitly stated he’d consider marriage? With me?” You tilt your head to the side. Surely it would be too good to be true. He wasn’t too pretty, nobody was like Satoru, but he wasn’t that bad to look at either. 
“He seemed quite eager about it, actually.” She said, and you smiled a bit, feeling like a silly schoolgirl with the way you ducked your head. 
“He’s a bit shy, isn’t he?” You said with a little giggle and she snorted, nodding as she circled his name and put a question mark next to it. 
“Just means he’s more apt to moan louder,” she said blandly and your mouth dropped, burrowing your face in your hands at her very open nature. Even after ten years it sometimes caught you off guard. 
“Lily!” You shouted, trying to hold in your laugh, and she just looked at you as if you should have expected this as she rose from your bed, stretching her arms above her head as she let out a frantic yawn. 
The sun had already set and she knew her mother would be expecting her to arrive soon, and you went to stand but stopped you. 
“No need to stand, I’ll bid farewell from here.” 
You rolled your eyes at her dramatics, picking up the cloth again as you dabbed at your cheeks. 
“I assume you’ll be here tomorrow?” Crossing your legs as she shrugged as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. 
“Yes. In fact, I’ll leave this prized list with you so that you can mull it over,” she walked over a bit and set it down on the top of your vanity, looking at you as she put a solemn hand on your shoulder, “Do think over Count Alexis. He is rather dreamy.” 
You chuckled, waving goodbye to her as she left the door with a litter thud, blowing kisses as you snorted at her exaggerated act, turning back around to your mirror as you wiped away the remaining bits of your makeup. 
You were already in your dressing gown, the material soft and light on your skin as you set the cloth back down, drying your face off with another one as you got ready to sleep. 
With meticulous care you took your earrings off and began to work on your necklace but struggled with the finicky clasp, your thumb slipping just as you were about to get it. You let out a quick groan of frustration, shutting your eyes as you tried not to lose your temper over a necklace.
“Do you need help with that?” 
You were getting better at controlling your reactions, but your eyes snapped over to the top of your mirror as he stood there, shutting the door behind him. Your hands fell to your lap as you silently seethed. 
Ella was never going to hear the end of it. 
You said nothing and he quietly walked over to where you sat with your back to him, opting to look at him through your mirror as his slender fingers slowly came up to your neck. 
“I’m getting rid of my maid.” You mutter eyes dropped to your lap as you try to control your breath as his fingertips touch your delicate skin, gingerly getting to work of undoing the clasp. He didn’t say anything and the only sound that filled the room was your slow little puffs of air, trying to get your pulse to stop from doing the strange rhythmic beating it always did when you were around him, as if he somehow became the conductor of your heart. 
You heard a small click and the necklace became undone, and he gathered it in his palm as he set it down next to your little trinkets, dropping his hands from your shoulder as his cerulean eyes found yours once again, and you looked away, his deep stare burning through yours. 
“Don’t,” his voice came out rough as if he hadn’t made much use of it for a while, “She’s always turned me away when I came asking for you. I weasled my way through her right now, almost blew my cover when Lily was leaving.” 
Oh.
“I’m over it.” No, you weren’t, but you wouldn’t admit that out loud.
You opened up the drawer to the left of you, moving some little cases of jewelry around as you found the letter you had hidden away as you brought it out, setting it on the desk as you stood from your chair, pushing it back in as you faced him, “Take it. I didn’t read it.” Despite how much you wanted to, you just couldn’t bring yourself to stoop that low and read through something he didn’t want you to see. 
He glanced over at the letter and then at you, taking the letter with careful movements as he found the letter opener scattered on your desk, ripping through the wax as he opened it up, passing the envelope back to you. 
“Read it.” 
You certainly weren’t expecting that. 
“What?” You couldn’t blink, looking at his outstretched hand that held the very thing that had been bothering you as if it was nothing, “I don’t-” 
“Go on,” he urged quietly, his voice caught in the back of his throat, “Read it out loud. Please.” 
You looked at him once more to make sure he wasn’t going crazy before you gently took it from his hands, your fingers brushing past each other as you opened it up, taking out the letter as you unfolded it, taking a deep breath as you prepared yourself for the worst. 
“I’m terrible at writing letters, you should know,” you start, squinting as you move closer to your candle so that you can read it better, “And you should know that I’ve written this twenty other times. I have-
“Twenty balled-up pieces of paper next to me,” Satoru finished the sentence, not looking at the letter once as he read it from memory, “If only you could see the mess,” he paused, his hands shaking a bit as he continued, “I apologize for not sending as many letters to you as I should, but aside from my travels which have proven to do nothing other than make me regret leaving, I only have one other thing left to tell you. 
“I love you. I’m in love with you. I thought that it would do me some good to leave and get some time to think about how bad it would be if I said out loud that I was in love with the girl who’s my sister's best friend, but I’ve simply gone mad over needing to see you again. I’m in Paris, which is coincidentally the city of love but I’ve grown bitter and resentful over the fact that the woman I love is an ocean away from me. I can’t do it anymore. No, scratch that, no, I can’t do this other letter…” 
“...It’s too pathetic. You’re worth more than this.” You concluded, reading along because you couldn’t be yourself to look up at him, knowing that you simply would break apart and couldn’t take it as you heard the three words you’ve wanted to hear from the man that you never thought would say them. 
You looked at the paper, eyes scanning each word again as you let out a heavy sigh, feeling like you were living in a dream that was wrapping its arms slowly around you and whisking you away. 
“That night, I projected. I don’t know why I said what I said, I just know that thinking it over told me everything I needed to know and I acted like a coward and a fool and I hurt you when really, I love you. I love you, I’ve never stopped. I burn for you, and I always will.” He whispered, his eyes wet with unshed tears as he cleared his throat, wiping at his nose as he sniffled. 
You’ve never seen him like this, exposed and raw. But you knew that you mirrored his emotions, knew that you were in the same state that he was for he carefully brought his hand up to your cheek, wiping a tear away as he cupped your face in his hands. 
“I know that it would be too much to ask for your forgiveness, but please, I don’t know how much longer I can go without at least seeing your face, hearing your voice, your laugh, you’re kind, kind heart.” His hands trailed down your face, down your arms, and your waist, settling on your hips as he ducked his head downward, tears sliding down the curve of his nose as he did something unexpected. 
The Viscount Gojo Satoru began to kneel. 
You froze, looking down in shock as he bowed his head in shame and apology. 
“‘Toru, please, I,” your voice broke and you quickly wiped your tears away, taking his hands that were sprawled out across your waist as you held them, not knowing how to handle this display of vulnerability as you gently made him look up at you, “Just tell me one thing.” 
His thumb caressed the back of your hand, giving a soft nod as he whispered; “anything,” and his hand moved up your waist, holding your back as your hands unknowingly went to his hair, moving it away from his face as your fingers twirled and played with his white strands, basking in the sense of having him at his knees for you. 
“Why did you wait so long to come back?” Your voice is barely audible as it cracks, a year of missing him and ten years of longing for him coming out as he shakes his head, almost as if he was more remorseful about it than you could ever imagine, and he shifted so that he wasn’t resting on his ankles anymore, digging deep into his pocket as he brought out a little box. 
“I went back to Japan. I was trying to find this little ring my father gave my mother back when he started to pine after her,” he opened up the box, a delicately cut blue diamond rind resting on a thin gold band stared back at you, shining in the candlelight, “I wanted to give it to you as a promise…” and he trailed off, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he suddenly became a bit embarrassed, pocketing the box again as he looked back up at you. 
“What was the promise?” You can barely hear your words over the thumping of your heart. 
He swallows, slowly coming to standing back up, never losing his hold on you, clutching onto your thin nightgown as if it was the only thing grounding him to reality. 
“That I’d marry you one day.” He whispered back, his voice hushed as if he didn’t want them to escape the vicinity of your room, this shared space between the two of you in which you stripped each other bare to the soul, only the find that they longed to be in each other's place even when they were miles apart. 
Just as he did so many nights ago, he leaned closer to you, giving you time and space to push him away, to yell, to scream, but you didn’t, nudging his nose with yours as your lips found each other, this time quick and rough and not wanting to be patient because there was no room for such a thing. 
He let out a small groan as you tugged on the hairs at the back of his nape, pushing you further down until your back hit one of your windows, feeling the cool night air from the glass as it traveled through the thin cotton of your slip
It seemed like something in him was finally let go, and you as well, and everything came tumbling down in the best way possible. 
It was so messy and rushed and desperate that you felt like you were going to faint, the air from your lungs being stolen by his hungry and greedy lips as he pushed back roughly against you, needing to taste you, feel you, or else he simply wouldn’t make it. 
Satoru tapped the back of your thighs, urging you to wrap your legs around his torso as you pulled away slightly, questioning him as he scoffed at your doubt. 
“I spent a year getting bigger and stronger for you,” he murmurs against your lips, “and the first thing you said when you saw me was oh. Come on,” he nipped at your lips, his boyish and charming smile growing when you whimpered, “Test me out.” 
You gave in, standing on your toes as you did what he asked, and you let out a little laugh of surprise at how he wasted no time wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he smirked, going away from the ball as he led you to your bed, basking in the sound of your twinkling laughter as you admired him in all his glory. 
“I shouldn’t have doubted you,” you tease and he snorts, fixing your gown as he hovers above you. He was huge, so much bigger than you anticipated in your imagination, but it was so much better than you ever could have thought. 
“I’d never lie to you,” he promised, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips that left you breathless as he continued downwards, pressing kisses down your jaw, and your neck, spending time as he sucked at one of your vital points, enjoying the way you sounded like you had run a marathon. 
He looks stunning here; his lips look bruised and swollen, pink and wet with spit. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of your body, and if you weren’t crazy about how he looked at you, you would’ve shielded yourself away in embarrassment. 
But he didn’t give you any time to think it over, pushing past your loose nightgown as he pressed delicate pecks to your shoulders and upper chest region, looking up at you to make sure it was okay to continue. 
You quickly nodded, eager to see what he was going to do. 
“Mind if I take this off?” He asks, tugging at the ends of it as you look at him from beneath your lashes, trying to feel indifferent as you shrug, but the way you smile giddily gives away just how badly you want him to. 
“I wouldn’t mind.” You help him move it upwards, your arms coming out from the sleeves as the chilly air hits your naked skin, and you suddenly realize just how out in the open you are compared to him. 
Out of second nature, you go to cover your chest but he tsks, gently pushing your hands away as he eyes your breasts, looking like he had just come back from staring at the sistine chapel with the way he looks at you. 
Your nipples harden from how cold it was, and he slowly dips his head down to one of your tits, kissing the soft and supple skin as he inches closer to your bud, finally latching his mouth onto it as you throw your head back, arching your back into his lips as he sucks like his life depends on it. 
“S-shit, ‘Toru, so good,” you mewl, wrapping your hands around his neck as he flattens his tongue against your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive area as you whine even louder, not seeming to care if anybody outside your door could hear. 
His other hand lathes onto your other one, not wanting to leave her unattended as he pinches your nipple between his two fingers, twisting it just enough to make you shut your eyes at how good the attention feels. 
“Let me hear you,” he groans into your skin, looking up at you as you try to cover up your mouth with your hand, “I’ll stop if you cover up that pretty mouth of yours.” 
You simply nod, leaving your shaky hand to grip your bed sheets as he switches his mouth and hand with each other, giving you different sensations to wrap your hands around as you feel a deep part of your pulse, needing more of him. 
“‘Toru, please,” your voice comes out shaky as he releases your tit with a pop, his hands going down to hold onto your hips as you bring his chin up for another kiss of swapping spit with him, growing to appreciate the lewdness of it all as you lay feather light kisses on his jawline, feeling him shudder beneath you, “Wan’ more.” 
At any other time, he would have drawn this out, would have teased and prodded at you to use your words, to tell him where you needed him most, but he couldn’t wait with you, wanting to have a taste of you himself. 
So his wolfish grin comes back, his hand traveling down your stomach, stopping just above your mound as he cocks a brow at the way you seem to grow impatient, reaching the place you seemed to have in mind. 
“Here?” He asked quietly, his pointer finger moving to find your clit as you let out a quiet gasp, his expert fingers having nothing on your inexperienced ones. Sure you’ve touched yourself deep into the night when you made sure everybody was asleep, but it never felt like this. 
You couldn’t speak, so you nodded again, and that seemed to be good enough for Satoru as his finger moved down to your lips, a deep groan coming from within his chest as he felt how wet you were, and prodded his finger at your tight walls, slowly pushing past them as he seemed to be in a trance. 
You sucked him in so delightfully, pulsing against his as your slick stained his finger, making it easier for him to fuck you with a little bit more pace, careful not to hurt you, as he brought it back up to circle at your clit, trying to find what places you liked to be teased most. 
“O-oh my god,” your eyes rolled back in your head as his long find pushed back against your gummy walls, his other thumb finding your nub as you whined even louder, not used to feeling this good, spreading your legs out even further as you tried to make room for him. 
“There you go, s’perfect,” he said against your skin, dipping down as he moved a hand to keep your thighs further apart, “Mind if I have a taste?” And you were in another dimension, just cradling his neck as you pushed him to go further. 
He chuckled darkly, nearly going insane as he neared your glistening pussy, eyes growing dark as he moved his fingers away so that his tongue could have its turn, and you swore you almost came right there. 
He licked gingerly, savoring you first as he groaned, his thumb never giving up on circling and massaging your clit, but he began to eat you out as his life depended on it, licking and sucking like you were his last meal. 
“‘Toru, ‘Toru, fuck!” You screamed, biting your lip harshly as you kept your finger tight around his hair, “Don’t stop, please!” 
“F-fuck,” he murmured, coming up for a quick breath as he looked at you from his long white lashes, “Fucking kill me if I ever stop, okay?” 
He goes back in with the same amount of fervor, your chest moving up and down as you arch into his mouth, your jaw going slack as you quickly feel that rope in your stomach tightening, embarrassed at coming so early but knowing that there was no way you could stop yourself with the way he fingered you out at the same time he ate you out. 
“I’m yours,” he said against your skin, “I’ll always be yours.” It was out of place, but it seemed like he was branding it into your skin so that everybody else knew, knew that he belonged solely to you.
It was too much, and you felt like you were slowly losing your ability to think, talk, or do anything, and the only thing you could feel was him, and you felt it all coming to a crescendo as his mouth latched onto your clit, letting it all go as you came into his mouth. 
“‘M c-coming, mmmm fuck!” You couldn’t even believe the sounds you were making as you clenched around his finger, your essence coating his chin and hand as your legs were trembling, glad that he held a stable hand on your waist. 
You saw white for a couple of seconds, taking even longer to catch your breath, your tits rising and falling with each heave, and you suddenly felt like you came back down to earth, peeking out from an eye to see Satoru smiling down at you, his face soft and you whined in shock at what just happened, hiding your face into one of your pillows as he laughed lowly, the sound dripping down your ears like warm honey. 
“You just came around me, no need to be modest now.” He gently moved your face away from the sanctuary of your pillow so that you could look at him again, and he leaned down, pressing one final kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on him as you let out a muffled moan. 
“How do you feel?” He asked as he pulled away, sitting on his haunches, letting you drape the blanket around your sweaty chest as you tried to sit up, shaking a bit as you tried to recover from your mind-breaking orgasm. 
“Good,” you say groggily, wiping at your eyes as you give him a lazy, languid smile, “Really good.” 
“Yeah?” He asks, chuckling as you nod, finding his hands as you play with his long fingers, and he lets you watch as you let them entangle with each other, somehow feeling more connected through this than the previous activity as you slowly pull him back down towards you, wanting nothing more than to curl into his chest. 
“Give me a second love,” he wanted the same thing, but he pulled away, “Let me clean you up.” 
You didn’t fight it and let him go, watching as he found the pitcher of water on your desk as he found a clean rag and wet it, coming back to your bed until his eyes caught something under the sheets. 
He picked it up, reading it as he sat down next to you, running the cold towel across your thighs as you let out a little whimper at the temperature. He pressed an apologetic kiss to your forehead as he turned the paper around in silent questioning. 
Your eyes widened, trying to take it away but he held it above your head. If you had more fight in you, you might have wrestled for it, but you gave up, letting him clean you up as he tried not to laugh at how measly it was. 
“I doubt Cambell would know how to make you come.” He finally says, throwing the rag away somewhere as you groan, pushing his face slowly away as you try to fight the giddy laugh that was going to bubble its way from your chest. 
“Stop! Lily was just trying to help!” You argue and he waves his hands, loosening the buttons of his tunic as he crawls in next to you, pulling you flush against him as he kisses the tip of your nose. 
“It’s fine love,” he nestles his nose in your hairline, smiling when you hitch a leg over his, “You’re mine now.” 
You look up at him, tracing over his features with the light touch of your fingertips as he leans into your warmth. 
“Do you promise?” 
He gives a single nod, sliding the delicate ring over your finger, and closes his hand around yours. 
“Promise.” 
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luveline · 10 months
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Ok what about a lil fic of Remus being snappy with his gf leading up to the full moon? Just some angst and then fluffy ending with them reconciling
thank u for ur request! —remus says something he shouldn't before the full moon, and later campaigns for your forgiveness with affection and a confession. fem!reader, 1.2k
Remus lays on the couch with his forearm pressed to his eyes. It's the day before the full moon, and he feels the hours approaching like a death sentence every time. You hover in the doorway, watching, unsure of how to help. He gets the same every month (or rather, every cycle). 
Irritable. So anxious he can't breathe properly, let alone enter conversation. 
You hate seeing him like this. Your Remus, who spends every moment you're together trying to make sure you're as happy as you can be. 
Cautious, you round the sofa to crouch by his face. You hold out your hand, trailing a gentle fingertip down the length of his arm, tripping over pinched skin ridged by scars. He's beautiful no matter what, but he gets insecure about how he looks every full moon. You know he thinks he's a monster. You've no way to prove it to him beyond this. 
"Hey, handsome," you say softly. "I know you're not hungry, but I made dinner anyway if you feel up to it. And I know," —you drop your voice to a near whisper— "I know you're not in the mood, but I'm here. I can sit here and stroke your hair in silence all night if that's what you want, my love. I'll do whatever you want." 
"Then leave me alone," he says. 
Half snap, half firm defeat. You wince at the ire in his voice. It won't ever be nice to have someone you love speak to you like you're getting on their nerves, but you know what it is he's facing. You know this is hard for him to cope with. You can forgive him for everything if he makes it through this in one piece. 
"Okay. I'm sorry. I love you, Remus." 
He turns his head toward the sofa cushions. 
You leave the room with a heavy heart. In the kitchen, you try to eat, but every mouthful makes you feel sick, your eyes welling with tears as you chew. You're hurt, he's hurting, and this really, really sucks. 
The smell of dinner starts to amplify the nausea. You grab your plate and carry it to the back door, scraping your leftovers straight into the rubbish. You wash your plate and leave it to drip dry on the draining board, your eyes burning. You sniff, wiping your nose in your sleeve. 
You're hoping desperately that Remus will come around before bed, but he stays where he is. Thinking he's finally found sleep and wanting to leave him to that blissful reprieve, you creep through the living room and down the hallway into the bedroom. Tears fall as you change into your pyjamas. You're so tired that you barely have time to cry yourself to sleep. 
You're not sure how much longer it is when you wake. A familiar hand cups your cheek. 
From the warmth of your skin, he's had his hand there for a while. 
"I'm so sorry," Remus says. 
You don't know how he knows you're awake. He must have been watching you long enough to spot the difference. Honestly, you're not sure you want to see him yet, because you love him so much, and it breaks your heart to be at the end of his disdain even when you know the cause. 
You struggle to see him in the dark. 
"I should never have spoken to you like that." 
Your eyes close of their own accord, exhausted and sore from crying. "You didn't mean it." 
"I wish you'd shout at me," he murmurs, sliding his hand over your ear. His thumb draws along the shell of your ear. 
"I'm too tired," you mumble. 
Remus' head shifts closer to yours. Sharing the same pillow, his hand falls to your shoulder, his arm wrapping around you, a firm bicep pressed to your front. 
You let yourself lean into it. His breath warms the space between your brows. 
"It's no excuse, but I… I can't think of anything else but the pain, sometimes. I get so angry about it, because I'm–" He stops short, swallowing audibly in the otherwise silent room. "I'm scared. But I would be a hundred times more terrified if I didn't have you, knowing you're there for me, unflinchingly, before and after it happens, it helps me get through it. It's not fair that you give me so much peace and I just… 
"I'm sorry, dove. I don't mean to take advantage of your… heart." He says heart like he's been winded. He hadn't sounded finished, but everything stops at that word. 
You force your eyes open. He's looking at you with an unspeakable amount of love, kind to keel you over if you were standing. His eyes are pitch black in the lack of light, irises melded with pupils, giving him an even sorrier gaze. You raise a sluggish hand to his where it rests behind your back and pull it back to your face. You miss his touch. 
"I love you," you say. 
"I know," he says, his jaw tensing in an attempt to stage off tears. "I love you, too." You watch them collect in the corners of his eyes, following one as it slides to rest in the dip of his nose bridge while he lies on his side like this. 
"So don't be sorry." 
"But I am sorry. I can't fathom why I think it's okay to treat you that way." 
"You don't think at all, Remus. I'm not being flippant, but you're busy worrying about the worst of it." You shake your head gently. His hand twitches against your cheek. "I don't blame you." 
"I know," he utters. 
You stare up at him as he sits enough to tower over you. His smile is sorry, in love and ashamed. You want to tell him how it doesn't matter, that it's okay, but you're thinking maybe you need him to say it first. 
"I'm sorry." 
"Remus, you only told me to leave you alone." 
"I need you to know that any other time, you're all that I want. You're everything. I couldn't ask for more than you. Please don't think I'm cruel," he pleads in a whisper. 
You lift your chin incrementally. "I'd never think that." 
His apology kiss is coddling. Like he's worried he'll hurt you, like he's holding back, he kisses you like you can't handle more than a chaste press of the lips. 
"I love you," he says into it. 
You lift your head to kiss him harder. You love him, and you won't break. You can be exactly as strong as he needs you to be, so long as love waits at the end of the night. 
"I love you." A huff of a laugh escapes him. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Caution has his joke falling flat.
You nuzzle your cheek against his, knowing you'd forgiven him just as soon as he'd snapped. "If you let me stroke your hair. Did you eat your dinner?" 
"I'll eat it tomorrow," he says. A white lie, you both know, but he slides down further under the sheets so you can reach his head. 
You card your fingers through his hair until you've both fallen asleep. 
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yasminebahng · 4 months
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skz and how they give you physical affection
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notes: some fluff for yall after the angst of my last post ;) was waiting for my lecture to start and suddenly started thinking... how do the boys love to show their affection physically? then started day dreaming and yeah.. enjoy! cw: reader x ot8, mentions of kissing, mentions of showering/bathing together, gn reader
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Chan: Resting on you
God knows this man needs a break. When he's exhausted after dance practice or doing interviews all day, the only comfort he can find is in you. He'll trudge over to you, head bowed down, his eyes droopy with sleep and just collapse into your open arms. This happens very frequently actually. When he's working on music, he'll bring his laptop with him while he lays on your chest. He knows he cant be around all the time, and when he is around he's usually busy, so he's grateful that you embrace him while working (I mean, he needs some lovin too.) He'll let you know its time for bed by kissing your arm that's usually resting on his chest or playing with his curls. The rest of the night is spent with cuddles and giggles.
Lee Know: Tracing his fingers on your skin
Lee Know is notorious for avoiding skinship. Out of respect for him, you allow him to initiate it most of the time. Whether it be kisses, hugs, or cuddles, you let him take the reigns. Except for when you ask when you're feeling needy, most of the time he will oblige. So whenever he doesn't really want to kiss or hug, he will draw figures or words on any exposed skin. You find that he does it subconsciously when you both watch movies on the couch or are falling asleep in bed. That's actually the way he told you he loves you the first time. He traced the words on your arm while you spoke, thinking you wouldn't catch it. But you did. You always paid attention when he did that. So you picked up his palm, making eye contact with him the whole time, and traced the words back. The whole day was spent with kisses and arm doodles.
Changbin: Bear hugs
Binnie is so touchy in general but his personal favorite in his artillery, are huge hugs. Whenever you guys go out on a date, he'll wrap his arms around your shoulders and waddle behind you. Even when you watch him at dance practice, during breaks he'll chase you around and hug you (much to your dismay, since he's all sweaty.) He loves encasing you and knowing you're safe with him as much as you love the warmth of his embrace. He'll squeeze you so tightly, honestly to the point of suffocating. Whenever you return the favor, he melts. Feeling your arms around him is the greatest comfort, especially when he's had a really hard day.
Hyunjin: Hand worship
Having hands on the larger side, Hyunjin loves looking and feeling your smaller ones in his own. He'll make fun of you sometimes, calling them baby hands even though they're a normal size but I digress. Sometimes when he paints, he'll turn to you and ask for your hand to hold. You smile at him and give it to him and he'll bring it to his lips before intertwining his fingers with your own. If he's feeling especially playful, he will start to paint on it. Landscapes, flowers, even Jiniret. It feels so intimate when your fingers dance around together, exploring each other.
Han: Kisses
This man has some juicy lips and he is not afraid to use them. He will find any excuse to kiss you. ANY. "Aw, you had a bad day? Here, my lips will cure you." "Oh! You had an amazing day? Let's make it a better one." Before he showers your face and neck and shoulders with kisses. His personal favorite place to kiss you is your forehead. He'll rest his head against yours and find your lips, slowly molding them together. Then, after a dizzying and heart melting kiss, he'll leave a trail of them until he finds his lips on your head. You'll close your eyes, savoring the warmth of his body pressed against yours. One time, his kissed your head for so long it left a hickey on there. When he pulled away and saw the angry purple mark, he collapsed on the floor laughing and you looked at him like he was crazy. Until you found a mirror. And you became the crazy one. He did not kiss your head for a while after that.
Felix: Massages
After a long, exhausting day at work, all you want to do is go home, shower, and cry. Thankfully, your caring boyfriend has better plans. Felix loves doing acts of service. If he knows you're not in high spirits he will take your bags at the door, help you take your shoes off, and run a bath for you while you grab yourself something to drink. You'll walk into the bathroom that's thick with steam and see that the candles on the tub are lit and Felix is hunched over, checking the temperature of the water. He'll help you change out of your clothes and lower you into the tub. He has bought several lotions and oils because he loves massaging you so much. He'll spread it over your shoulders and squeeze softly but firmly. You melt. He will hear your words of approval and feel so giddy that he's helping you and relieving some of your stress. Eventually he will move down to your arms, your legs, your feet. Any part of you he can massage he will. It's as enjoyable for him as it is for you and he loves that he can show his love for you this way.
Seungmin: Spooning
This man is a fiend for cuddles. He will jump at any opportunity to cuddle with you. Whenever he wraps up singing at the recording studio, he will get out of the booth and run to your spot on the couch and pull you into his arms. You try to scold him sometimes, since one or two of the members are usually there, but they don't seem to mind at all. You don't really either. You love feeling his arms around your stomach and your legs tangled together. He will fall asleep sometimes and whenever you'd attempt to get up, his grip tightens and you admit defeat. Don't tell anyone this, but whenever you guys are alone, most of the time he's the little spoon. He loves how you hitch your leg over his hip and have your arm under him (it falls asleep most of the time but you never move or tell him.) He feels safest in your arms.
I.N: Playing with your hair
He discovered how much he loved playing with your hair when you guys were on a picnic date in a field. Your head was in his lap and you were nearly asleep. He was staring down at you and began to stroke your hair and scratch at your scalp. You hummed in approval and it was lights out. After seeing how much peace it brought you, he would always be playing with it. Twirling it between his fingers, asking if he can help apply products, even washing it for you when you guys would shower. He did it for you initially, but then it became his favorite thing in the world. Some days you'd let him tie it into weird styles and with weird hair ties. Some with bows, or beads, or wonky colors. He'd find himself kissing it before bed every night and you could cry at how loved you felt in those moments.
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tasteleeknow · 5 months
Text
LIVING IN THE RUINS
minho x fem!reader. 2k words. minors dni. best friends to lovers. soft!minho. angst. fluff. jealousy. emotional hurt/comfort. smut with feelings, in a tent.
“Excuse me?”
You blink at the stranger in front of you. She seems to materialise before your eyes. You’d zoned out again and missed the attention your best friend had clearly been receiving from strangers in the crowded room. “I was wondering if I could get your number?” she asks, eyes fixed on Minho’s. She blinks quickly a few times, her long dark lashes fluttering much like your heart in your chest. 
She hasn’t looked at you once despite your close proximity. You’re so close to the object of her attention in fact, your thigh brushes against Minho’s jeans under the table. 
He shifts beside you, sitting up straighter in the booth. “Oh,” he says, clearly taken off guard as well. “Thank you. I mean that’s — I don’t—” 
“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks with a small tilt of her head. 
“No,” Minho answers quickly, incapable of lying. His discomfort radiates off him. You’d spent years learning his emotional tells. “I mean—” 
“He’s not into women,” you interrupt, finally drawing her attention to you. She blinks before her eyes drop down to your chest and back to your eyes, like she’s completely taken aback by your presence. It’s impossible, you know that logically. Still, she puts on a good performance. “Sorry,” you add. 
Her lips curve into an unconvincing smile. “No worries,” she says. “The hot ones never are.” 
The whole exchange is as short as it is ordinary. How many tipsy girls work up the courage to ask the pretty man across the bar for his number? You would bet money on it happening multiple times over somewhere across the planet at any given moment. It’s normal. Mundane. Still, you know it’ll chip a little more of your carefully built wall away. A chisel to stone, slow and steady. The only problem is that it’s been chipped at for years. You can feel the fragility of it these days, each chisel etch feels alot like when you’re down to the end of a game of jenga. 
Any move now will cause it to crash and fall. 
She hadn’t considered for a moment you might have been together — not when she’d spotted him across the room, clearly with you — and not when she’d gotten close and blatantly ignored your comfortable proximity to each other. Her question about his relationship status had been an afterthought, a possibility she hadn’t considered until faced with a response other than ‘yes’. She’d been expecting a yes.
The thought that he might be with you, might be attracted to you, was unconsidered. You wonder if she’d discussed it with her friends. ‘No,’ they might have said. ‘There’s no way he’s with her.’
Minho is quiet as the petite brunette turns on her heels and disappears back into the mass of people. His red ears give his embarrassment away. 
You nudge his shoulder, rocking him out of his trance. “Hey,” you prod. “Alright?” 
The smile he offers you is a little lopsided — very Minho. “Always,” he says. 
Your annual camping trip is just like the year before. Your small group of friends sets up camp in your usual spot. Everyone climbs into their usual tents. Everyone assumes you and Minho will be sharing, as always. 
You’re not sure why it hurts so much. They assume that nothing would ever happen between you. None of the other girls share a tent with a guy they aren’t dating. You’re the exception. Because Minho would never want you. 
He notices your low mood later that night. The group separates in the dark to play flashlight tag and as you find yourself wandering a secluded patch of the campsite, you know he knows. His attention is on you instead of where he’s walking. You almost scream when he falls into apparent nothingness. 
“I’m fine,” he quickly reassures you, pulling himself up from the ground. “Just dropped my glasses.” 
“God, you scared me.” 
It takes you both at least ten minutes to find them, relying purely on touch alone. It's too dark to see much at all without a light and using your phones would give your position away. 
You’re grateful for the darkness when you reach up and place his frames gently on his face. It hides the heat in your cheeks when you brush chocolate brown hair behind his ears, ensuring you’ve placed them properly. 
“Thank you,” he whispers, close enough that his breath warms your lips. 
You’re also grateful just to be near him, you realise. Just to know him. You love him. 
You love him. 
It’s an earth shattering realisation to have while playing flashlight tag in the middle of nowhere. You need to escape. You can’t. You’re sharing a tent with him. 
The situation isn’t helped when later in the night one of the girls with big bright eyes and a gentle smile makes a very clear move on him. You were used to it. People loved him. 
You loved him. 
It’s a stupid thing to cause the wall to finally crumble. It’s humiliating really. But when he laughs at something she whispers in his ear: it happens. 
It falls. 
You’re pathetic without it. 
All you can do is hide from him, escape to the tent and pretend to be so tired you’ve fallen asleep before he can investigate. It’s not something you do. Not with Minho. He knows you so well hiding from him is just as stupid as it is pathetic. He’ll know. 
Still, you can pretend. He won’t know as long as you’re unconscious. You can put it off until morning. 
It takes a long time for him to fall asleep. You lie there staring at the canvas of the tent for what feels like hours, the sounds of him tossing and turning continuing for so long you almost give up. 
But then he’s still. His breathing seems to even out. He’s asleep. 
That’s when you let yourself cry. Quietly at first; silent aching sobs. 
What a time for the wall to crumble. You wonder if you have the energy to rebuild. You’ll have to find it. The alternative is letting Minho go entirely, removing him from your life and letting the ruins erode away over a long, long time. 
Not an option. 
“Hey,” Minho’s soft voice calls. Shit. You wipe clumsily at your eyes and sodden cheeks. “Hey, what’s going on? What happened?” he questions as his palm rests gently against your shoulder. 
You should face him. You can’t hide. You know it. 
“No-thing,” you whimper, breath catching between each syllable. It’s that awful breathless kind of sobbing, the type that leaves you unable to inhale fully, let alone speak. 
He rolls you over onto your back. He isn’t rough — but it’s with enough strength you’re completely unable to resist him. 
“What is it?” he says again, tone much more forceful now. He isn’t letting it go. He looks down at you with wide eyes, like he’d never been asleep at all. 
You shake your head. 
His gentle thumbs move to your cheeks to attempt to wipe away the mess you’d left behind. He rests on one arm, leaning over you so he can give each cheek the same treatment. It’s a curious instinct, to wipe away someone's tears — like it has any effect on the person’s pain at all. It’s the best we can often do, you suppose. 
“Just focus on breathing,” he says. “Just breathe.” His hand stays against your cheek, fingers resting on your neck by your ear — featherlight. 
Breathing is easy, in theory. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing. His lips part to join you, guide you. His lips are still a little red from his bedtime routine, his tinted vaseline usually lasting him the entire night. 
“That’s it,” he soothes when you finally manage a few steady breaths in a row. “That’s good. You’re okay.” 
They’re simple words of comfort. The kind of thing anyone would say to a person in distress, but they settle something in your chest. You were okay. He was yours in a way that was more than nothing. He cared in a way that felt so genuine it was hard to be dissatisfied with the nature of it at all. 
“Did something happen today?” he asks, still leaning over you. It’s a vulnerable position to be in. It mirrors how you know this conversation will go. Your wall is a crumbled mess. You have no defences against him. 
“Not really.” 
His eyebrows pull together. 
“Nothing worth this,” you clarify. 
“Tell me.” 
“It’s not… It’s embarrassing.” 
His lips curve in a tiny lopsided smile, just a hint of amusement. “Friends are for sharing embarrassing things with. And I’m your friend,” he says. “Aren’t I?” 
You blink quickly a few times, desperate to keep your tears at bay. Then you nod weakly. 
“Why do you look so miserable about it?” he says, tone light and teasing. 
Your lips wobble a little as you struggle with the words attempting to burst forth. They pound and burn and demand to be set free. You lose the battle. “I love you.” 
He blinks, eyes flicking across your face. 
The gates are open now. You’re turned loose. “I love you so much,” you sob. “It hurts. It hurts everyday and it just keeps getting worse and I can’t—” 
His lips cut you off, a warm, heart-stopping, and very much welcome interruption. He’s kissing you. He’s—
“Stop,” he mumbles against your wet, salty lips. “Stop hurting. Please.” His next kiss is unbearably soft, a brush against your upper lip. “Please,” he whispers. 
You nod dumbly.
He rewards you with a collection of gentle kisses across your cheeks, replacing the remnants of your tears with the sticky wetness of his moisturised lips. You imagine the slight red marks he must leave behind. 
He settles over you properly at some point. You’re too distracted by the path of his lips to notice exactly when. But then his arms are by your head, caging you under him in a way that makes you hope for the universe to halt all progression forward. This was enough; everything. 
“I love you,” he whispers against your lips finally. “I’m… sorry for letting you think I don’t. I’m a coward.” 
“No,” you chastise quickly as you tangle your fingers in his hair. “Don’t say shit like that.” 
“I—” 
“It hurts me… and you told me to stop hurting.” 
His head drops to your neck… then, with a soft press of his lips to your skin, “Then I’ll never do it again.” 
Every move he makes is gentle when the slow, indulgent kisses turn into exploring hands and whispered pleas for more. Each of his whisper-soft words of affection sweeps away a crumbled section of your wall, clearing the space to build something entirely new. He’s warm, so warm as his bare torso rests on yours — as he finally presses inside you and sucks a mark into your neck to join the rest he’s left. “Doesn’t hurt?” he asks, stilling as he fills you completely. 
“No,” you gasp. “No, you’re… it’s—” His lips take the words from your mouth, a little messier than he’s been before. When his hips roll into yours you can’t help grasping at him like he might suddenly get up and leave — fingers tangling in his hair desperately.
“I got you,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy breaths mingling with your own. “I got you…” 
When he eventually spills inside you, flooding you with more of his warmth, you’re crying again. But this time it doesn’t hurt; this time it’s a release. The tears that he kisses from your face afterwards — they wash away the rest of the rubble.
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