#it's just so heartbreaking that they had to go through it

[chuluoyi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

in the wake of your scandalous divorce, you fall into the arms of emperor gojo satoru. for a while, you believe you have found love… until it becomes clear that your new husband is scheming behind your back! love, marriage, divorce… are you doomed to go through this path the second time?

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, marriage of convenience, explicit smut, pregnancy

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress. this is the second part of remarried empress au trilogy! wc. 9.2k ! thank you so much for your love in the first part🩵 but as of now, TAGLIST IS CLOSED so i'd appreciate it if the comment section won't be flooded with asks for tags :')

credit header goes to @/kakashismain_ in twitter!

prev. all hail the empress | next. long live the empire (soon!)

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Heavens, help me... I love her too damn much!

For Gojo Satoru, love was once an abstract concept. At first, he thought it was admiration, or a sense of obsession—

But on the day he watched you become Zen’in Naoya’s bride, Satoru realized it was much deeper than that. It felt like the sharpest sword had pierced straight into him and lodged itself there.

And then, years later— as if hearing his prayers, you became his. Since then, his life was perfect, because he wasn't lying when he said that you were everything he wanted in life.

Yet in a twist of fate, that same sinking, horrific feeling washed over him... as he watched the pagoda he built for you engulfed in flames.

You were there. Satoru felt himself staggering as he took in the mortifying sight. You and his unborn child are inside!

He didn't waste a breath as he dashed towards where you were, crushing everything in his path in the process, but just as he was about to enter the scorching temple—

“Satoru, no!” Suguru grabbed him, restraining him with his own body. “Get back!”

“No!” he screamed at him frantically. “She is there! Suguru, let go—!”

And then the worst happened, as the pagoda completely crumbled into a heap of rubble. Satoru's breath was knocked out of him as he faced the reality that he couldn't save you in time. And he felt like losing his consciousness as he wheezed, and thrashed in Suguru's hold.

It was all too much for him to comprehend as he struggled against the devastation before him.

How... did this happen? You were happy. You were about to welcome a child into your lives! The two of you really were...

SEVERAL WEEKS PRIOR

Your husband is trying to use you to wage a war... against your homeland.

You secluded yourself in your study, trying to make sense what you just overheard.

In a broader perspective, Satoru's actions could be constituted as national defense. If he perceived the Eastern Empire as a threat, then countermeasures were indeed necessary. But if not...

Regardless, it was not the very idea that blew you, but how he planned to use you to sway sentiment in your former country, to weaken them.

Is that what he's been aiming all this time? You felt like a hypocrite to question this since you too were using him. But these days, you were certainly not using him—you were falling in love with him.

It was strange, because you were supposed to be furious if that was his intent from the start. Yet what you felt right now was profound sadness, possibly even denial and heartbreak. You kept thinking how there must be another explanation—

“Sweetheart, hello~!”

You were startled when the door to your study was suddenly flung open, and the man from your thoughts strode in with a broad grin, completely oblivious to your inner turmoil.

"Satoru." You fixed him with a genial smile, even as nausea churned within you. Straightening your skirts, you looked up at him.

"I've been told you haven't been well, and Shoko said you've seen the physician," Satoru frowned, his long fingers cradling your face as he half-sat on your desk. "How did it go? What did he say?"

"Oh..." you clammed up, feeling at loss. "He said..."

Your dashing husband tilted his head curiously, bright eyes softened, worried lines etched on his face were so clear... and despite your conflict, you didn't have the heart to deny him this news.

"I'm with child." This time, your smile was genuine as you pushed back your intrusive thoughts. "Satoru... I'm carrying our child."

For a full ten seconds, Satoru was stunned, staring at you with a blank expression, his lips slightly parted. "H-huh...? Child? A... baby?"

"Mm-hm. A living baby."

"O-oh..." Satoru blinked his eyes rapidly—looking at your face, then your abdomen—before his expression broke into absolute wonder, broadly grinning. "T-that's... oh— it's—!"

To say he was speechless didn't cut it as he stuttered, messed his hair, pinched his own cheek, becoming restless yet looking so incredibly giddy—

"My queen!" Satoru suddenly lifted you and spun you around midair. "My beautiful wife—!" before gently sitting you on the desk and burying his face in your skirts, hugging your waist tightly. "Good lord, I'm— I'm so—!"

It hadn't truly dawned on you until now that you were going to become a mother. Witnessing Satoru's unabashed reaction as he nestled his face into you… nearly brought tears to your eyes.

Right in this moment, you didn't entertain any other thoughts. You were deeply moved by your husband's overwhelming excitement for your baby. And the realization that, despite Naoya's accusations—

Satoru looked up at you the second you sniffled, and he immediately drew you closer, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Hey, no tears, yeah?" He rested a hand on your jaw, his eyes sparkling with utter adoration as he gazed at you. "This is wonderful. We're going to be parents. This child... a part of you and me—we're going to bring them into the world."

You tugged his collar close and brushed your lips against his. And he responded with equal fervor. You yearned for this closeness with him.

. . .

But still in the back of your head, that lingering, buried fear whispered—

Is the man who adores you this much... capable of hurting you to the same extent?

With your bare bodies pressed closely, and you under him, Satoru could sense the rapid beat of your heart. And in return, you felt the heat of his palms against your skin and the tremors in his breath.

Yet now, in your marital bed, it quickly became clear to him that you, who were usually so composed and collected, were nervous. Satoru couldn't suppress the smile spreading across his face even if he tried.

"This is far from our first time, Empress." His coy smirk taunted you as he littered kisses along your jawline and chest. "What are you so jittery about, hmm?"

"Ah..." you let out a soft sigh as he sucked your breast with his mouth. "N-nothing... you're mistaken."

"Hmm... not confessing? Right..." He then grabbed the generous mound of your other breast and fondled it, making you squirm and moan.

But in the midst of this eroticism, suddenly your mind was thrown back to—

“That’s why I have her here.”

"Satoru," you breathed out, catching his hands. He looked up to you in slight surprise, thinking that you wanted to stop.

But he was in for a plot twist when you first pushed him, then flipped him underneath you, straddling him and capturing his lush lips, yanking his hair in the process.

"Whoa— hey..." Satoru held your hips, visibly startled but clearly enjoying your sudden whim, snickering. "My queen—ohh— you're a sight to behold, on top of me."

He grabbed the flesh of your bottom, sinking his fingers into it and pulling you forward. You let yourself be moved until your thighs were next to his ears.

Suddenly, it was, at once, the most peculiar experience—the greatest confidence boost you had ever received, and the hottest thing he had ever seen.

"You're so damn wet already," your husband nipped your inner thigh playfully as he observed your folds, and you gasped. "Are you ready?"

In response, you slammed yourself onto his face because, right now, you were in a less than forgiving mood.

"You look good under me," you darkly retorted, but then you choked on your own breath when your husband started licking your folds messily with his tongue.

Satoru smirked at the sound of your breathless noises, responding by lapping even more fervently. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tightening their grip on his scalp as you began to grind yourself against his face.

"You a-are really n-nasty!" you moaned, voice breaking at the feeling his sinful tongue parting your opening. "Maybe y-you have lied to me… all th-is time."

Satoru furrowed his brows in slight confusion, and perhaps a bit of annoyance, as he pinched your clit in retaliation, causing you to draw in a sharp breath.

"You're— awful!" but contrary to your claims, your face contorted with pleasure as the tight coil in your belly spasmed. "How m-many women... h-have you beguiled like m-me?"

He almost laughed into your ass. Literally. If being called awful was the price for pleasuring the most beautiful woman in the lands, then Satoru would be happy to be that horrible person every day of his life.

But then, you suddenly shifted on top of him, no longer positioning your hips in his face, and he quickly caught your face, crashing his lips against yours so both of you wouldn’t part for even a second.

"Nobody else," he murmured, wet lips and tongue ravishing yours, so much lust glistening in his eyes. "I'm all yours— forever." Just as he whispered it amidst pants, he groaned when your hand sneakily went to his very hard length.

And firmly grasped it. He got swollen just by tasting you and hearing your noises earlier. He growled, and against his senses, he pushed you down to lodge it inside you, penetrating and splitting you apart in one go.

“Ah—! Satoru— it’s too…!” you babbled breathlessly, your nails digging into his shoulders, feeling his huge cock pulsing inside your tight walls.

“Your fault,” he rebuked, eyes narrowing into darker shades, rigorously moving his hips against yours as he sat up. It was impossible to hold it in any longer, he could feel it already.

He tensed up, adjusting his position, so close to losing it inside you, and when he heard your dirty mewls and felt you shudder—reverberating through his body too—Satoru gripped your waist tighter, groaning, holding you in place to release his load inside you with precision.

Your body gave in as well, releasing at the same moment his cum burst inside you. Your vision blurred as the nastiest of moans escaped you, yet you felt so safe as your husband caught you in his arms.

. . .

"Are you okay?" Satoru asked worriedly after you rolled off him in the aftermath of your bliss. "Do you feel sick?" Your unfocused eyes met his, and he looked panicked, pulling you closer. "Shit, did I go too far? I shouldn't have, especially with the baby still in the early stages..."

"I'm... okay," you croaked, trying to reassure him. "Just tired..."

Heaving a relieved sigh, Satoru pecked you in the lips.

"Am I... a mess?" you leaned on him with a blissful smile, feeling his cum still trickling out between your legs.

"Yeah... My beautiful mess, that is." Satoru chuckled, reveling in the state of your disarray. "Soon enough," his hands traced your skin before settling on your tummy, a fond smile curving his lips. "Our baby will grow here."

"Yes—" you replied, placing your palm over his. "Do you... want a boy or girl?"

A boy would be the much sought-after prince, and you fully expected him to favor it, until to your surprise, Satoru lightly hummed and pressed a kiss on your belly button.

"Does that matter? What's important is you deliver them safely and they're healthy," he chuckled. "A princess will be nice... she'll turn out to be as lovely as you."

"But the heir has to be a prince..."

"Nah. I can always amend the succession norms. I'm the emperor."

And you giggled next. Seeing how free you looked, Satoru thought you were the woman overturning his skies and stars, and you truly are—as now you are the mother of his own flesh and blood, his future empire.

There will be a nation-wide celebration for you. Satoru insisted it was a must, and he would invite dignitaries from neighboring empires and kingdoms as well.

Including the Eastern Empire.

. . .

“Your Majesty. I... bring a gift and an invitation from the Western Empire.”

Naoya clacked his heel on the carpet, casting a sharp, yet uninterested look at his aide.

“There will be a celebration for—” the poor man gulped uneasily, faltering as if he could foresee how his emperor would react. Naoya scowled.

“Spit it out.”

“The former empress’ pregnancy, Your Majesty!”

“What...?” At that moment, he snapped his head towards him. It felt like everything he had ever known came crashing down. “Y/N...?”

That can’t be possible. For many years both of you had failed. That was why he took that maid and divorced you. No, upon reflection, it was never truly his intention to divorce you—he had wanted you to raise that child if you couldn't bear one.

But then you completely ignored him and had an affair with Gojo Satoru. He was furious. He couldn't bear the disgrace of it all, so he went with the divorce, if only to assert some control. However, the joke was on him, as you ultimately fled with Gojo entirely.

But if you aren’t infertile... Then, what did that make him?

Numerous thoughts ran through his mind. Was it possible that it was his child instead of Gojo’s? How many months had it been anyway?

...or could it be that he is the one who is—!

“No...” he muttered, frantic, taking sharp breaths. “Absolute rubbish!”

The aide stared at him in fear, as Naoya appeared unhinged now. But soon, that fear gave away to pity, as the emperor trashed his desk and howled in frustration— but contrary to the expected fury, Naoya looked like he was mourning, evident by the way he flung everything but the very portrait from his coronation day.

Of him and you. Even after that disastrous divorce, he had never taken it down from the wall of his study. Now, Naoya was staring at it, a multitude emotions clouding his eyes.

This man, just as the aide had always thought, has thrown away the only good thing he has in his life.

“Are the invitations sent already?” Satoru asked with a blooming smile, rolling the yarn out of his cat’s reach as the poor kitty grappled to catch it. “And how are the preparations going?”

“Banquets are usually handled by the Empress, but you really go out of your way and do it instead,” Suguru shook his head, unamused by the added workload it brought him, especially considering his disinterest in festivities.

“They’re all sent, some of them responded—before you ask, Naoya hasn’t— and I’ve cascaded the preparation to Shoko, since I have no clue what to do about it.”

“Well, not that I care if he’s going to stay sour and wants his name tarnished in the daily papers as a bitter ex-husband…” Satoru shrugged, petting Sugu-chan as the cat purred contentedly. “He is tactless, he very well might be.”

“You really want to spite him, don’t you…” Suguru sighed. “You even sent him a note. It was unnecessary.”

“He was the one hurling curses at me and my empress first. I’m just returning the favor.”

The note in question was of lines after lines of flowery nonsense about gratitude and whatnot. Satoru imagined Naoya's vein would burst after reading his card.

“I’m happy for you, Satoru.” As exasperated as Suguru was, his smile was genuine when he said it. “A royal baby, huh...”

"Suguru." The emperor's voice suddenly dropped an octave, surprising him. "What about the placement of the totem I told you the other day?"

The abrupt shift in conversation made Suguru visibly uncomfortable, and again, they were back to this topic.

"You're seriously going to do this?" the duke asked, almost in disbelief. "Satoru, you're going to become a father. You have everything already. This will lead to war one way or another, and—what if the Empress finds out? How do you think it'll make her feel?"

However, Satoru's gaze was cold as he dismissed most of Suguru's tirade. There was a chill in his expression that made his longtime friend inwardly questioned who the man before him was.

"I'm asking you. Have you done it or not, Suguru?"

"You're going to put a curse on a whole village, Satoru."

"I told Zen'in Naoya the moment I got Y/N, that it would mark the beginning of his downfall. I'm making good on that promise."

Suguru pressed his eyes shut to calm his fury. Morally, what Satoru did was wrong, but politically, this was the art of war. Suguru purely opposed to this out of consideration for you.

Few understood Satoru's actions as well as Suguru did. He might understand, others like you and Shoko wouldn't.

"Just remember, when the Empress catches wind of this, she's going to resent you," Suguru warned. "No matter what your reasoning might be."

Satoru's upper lip curled upwards, his eyes bereft of light, narrowing with indifference.

"Unless you never tell her, that is of no relevance."

Love... has he ever loved you all this time?

Naoya had never been confronted with that question or pondered it, simply because he never considered love existed within the context of something as grand as monarchy.

You were chosen because you were well-bred and well-versed in the arts of nobility. You were indeed the epitome of an ideal empress, a fact evident throughout your tenure.

But...

"Naoya!" you yelled at him and caught his hand. "You're a fool! Why did you keep doing that!?"

It was a long-buried memory, when you were still in your teens, around the time you were just made the crown princess. His hands, bruised and bloodied, and you tended to them.

"I'm not weak, you know," he sullenly barked. "I have to train to be stronger."

"You definitely have to train, yes... but you have to take breaks!" you retorted angrily.

"Why do you care so much anyway?" he snapped back. "It's not like your hands that are injured."

And that moment, you were suddenly almost in tears. Naoya never understood why.

"Don't cry." But his instincts told him to make you not cry. "Don't cry. I'm fine, see?"

. . .

Zen'in Naoya jerked awake from his slumber, realizing he had forgotten what his dream was, that it was still the late afternoon, and he was still in his study.

All he felt was that nostalgic feeling, and it intensified when he glanced up... only to see his coronation portrait on the wall.

It was almost as if you were still here. You were incredibly stunning, he had to admit that. Why hadn’t he realized until just recently?

The way your crimson dress flowed out, and that thin, serene smile on your face... you were a picture-perfect empress, and that was not an exaggeration. No one could measure up to you—

"Your Majesty~!"

Especially not Hanabi.

"Your Majesty, the princess has started holding her head up!" Hanabi, now no longer dressed in rags but rather in one of your dresses, excitedly remarking, "Soon, she will start to—"

Naoya's gaze fell on her dress. He recognized it instantly. That specific deep, vibrant shade of red with serpent-like waistband. It was one of his gifts to you for your birthday. "Why are you wearing that?"

"Huh?" she seems perplexed. "Oh this... I thought it looks pretty..."

But to her surprise, he suddenly flared with fury. "That isn't yours, you dullard," he spat out.

Her expression sank in heartbreak as he continued with his venomous speech. "Know your place." His words cut like a blade. "And I keep telling you, a princess is of no use to the throne!"

Hanabi fought to hold back the tears, because not only had he insulted her, worse still, he showed no interest in their daughter. "She is still of your blood, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice trembling.

"I told you, I only want a heir." His sneer caused her eyes to widen in shock. "Other than that, I won't care."

"Your Majesty, please—" Hanabi was desperate for him to acknowledge their daughter, when she caught sight of your ethereal face on the wall.

He still hasn't taken it down. It made her eyes twitch, and her own anger to rise.

"The former empress..." she stared at your picture resentfully. "You still have her here. We never even have our portraits painted..."

Naoya's icy gaze leveled at her without a hint of sympathy, despite the woman standing before him being the mother of his child.

"Why do you look at me like that?" Hanabi asked, tears spilling from her eyes. "You used to care for me when you thought I would bear you a son. Even if it's a daughter, she deserves love too, doesn't she?"

In the last five years, she had come to know that the emperor wasn't always this manic person. He used to be gentler, or at least not as vindictive.

And she never truly wanted you to be cast away like that. She looked up to you, admired you from up close, and meant it when she said she would carry your legacy as best as she could.

"Are you dumb?" Naoya barked. "I told you to know your place!"

...yet why? Why are people in this palace so harsh to her?

“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi. Beware, the emperor is fickle…”

Your unkind eyes, Naoya's disdainful stares even after she gave birth to his child... She didn't even care about becoming the empress anymore. She just wanted a happy life!

"If it was the former empress' child... even if it was a princess..." Hanabi turned to him with determination even amidst her pitiful tears. "You wouldn't cast her aside just like you do now with my daughter, would you, Your Majesty?"

Naoya's gaze, devoid of emotion and filled with blatant disinterest more than anything, shot through her, hurting her more than if it was filled with fury instead.

The lack of warmth in his stare made her feel like being looked through rather than being seen. As if she is that insignificant.

"Leave," he ordered coldly next, turning his back on her.

And there is her answer.

Hanabi had been your maid for five long years. She knew who you were, what you stood for, and your whole demeanor. Yet, despite her best efforts, she could never emulate you in the same way, could she?

. . .

"My lady... don't you know that the former empress is with child?"

Once again, Hanabi felt the sting of ice when her lady-in-waiting delivered the news.

"Empress... Y/N?" she whispered. "How...?"

You were stripped of your titles here, and yet you still remained a queen somewhere else. Hanabi might have won Naoya's favor, but now she was losing it while you had another emperor's affection.

Not much had changed about you. You still occupied the highest seat a woman could possibly attain. Whereas she...

"But she is barren!" she turned to her confidant then, almost in disbelief.

"Evidently not. Emperor Gojo has proven that."

How nice. A part of Hanabi wanted to congratulate you because she knew of your sufferings—how much you longed to hold a baby from your womb in your arms.

How unfair... But another part of her couldn't help but despise you. Because even in your absence, she still had to live in your shadow. Because you, who had lost everything, regained it all so easily.

"And my lady... Emperor Gojo is going to throw a banquet for this occasion next month. You are expected to attend it."

"Sweetheart, you asleep?"

One night, several weeks later, just as you were about to drift off to sleep, you felt the sheets shift as Satoru slipped into bed beside you.

Though you didn't turn to face him, you felt his warm hands wrap around your waist from behind.

"Satoru... you're back," you murmured sleepily.

"Mm-hmm," he whispered, pulling you closer to his chest and burying his face in your hair, taking in your scent. "Shoko told me you've been in your bedchamber since breakfast. Are you okay?"

"I get queasy if I walk too much, so I've been lying down all day... But don't worry, the physician said it's normal in early stages of pregnancy."

His grip on you tightened, as he caressed your belly. "Hmm, naughty baby. I'm sorry I wasn't here..."

"Where were you?"

For days now, he had been away, and you hadn't really questioned him. You had your guesses though—

"I was overseeing the construction of a new pagoda," he said softly, kissing your neck. "For you, actually."

That was so unexpected that it made you open your eyes fully. "What— for me?" Building pagoda was definitely not a small affair. Usually it was for religious purposes.

"It's a gift to the heavens for blessing me with you and our baby. It's expected to be completed before your celebration banquet."

The tower would be the testament of his love for you and your unborn child. Despite yourself, your heart swelled with overwhelming warmth.

"You're so silly... why do you spend the tax funds for that?" you brushed off the faint heat in your face, not daring to look at him still.

"Whatever I wouldn't do for you?" he cheekily retorted, chuckling.

You had never felt this cherished before, and this time you were certain—you were more than ready to fall in love with this man.

But he... is planning to use you, isn't he?

"Satoru." You shuffled to turn and face him, causing him to crack his lidded eyes open. You gazed at him, placing both of your hands on his face, caressing his face softly.

You're so kind to me. I appreciate you for that. You wanted to tell him various things, but the darkness in your heart ever since overhearing his exchange with Suguru made it hard for you to do so.

"Mm? What is it?" he drawled with a small smile, leaning into your touch.

“You... love me, don't you?”

His bright eyes found yours then, sharp and steady. An impossibly fond smile graced his lips, as if finding what you said the most natural thing there was.

“Throughout heaven and earth,” he proclaimed, his voice steady to match his eyes. “Yes, my queen.”

...then you would trust him, if only just for this moment. The genuine sincerity in his eyes, the raw authenticity in his words... it all felt too real.

And so, even when you were well-aware of the bitter possibility of truth, you leaned in and kissed him, giving yourself to his touch as his hand slipped inside you.

And soon, came the day of the lavish banquet solely held to celebrate your pregnancy.

You were seated on your throne, dressed in a stunning aquamarine gown. The skirt of the dress was full and flowing, spilling onto the floor in a waterfall of shimmering fabric. Upon your head perched your crown of diamonds, glinting beneath the light, and your ceremonial veil to make you look as queenly as you could possibly be.

Everyone would agree that you were a sight to behold, and that you were worthy of every praise possible.

"Many congratulations to you, Your Majesty."

"This is a splendid news! A royal baby!"

"To think that the emperor has settled down... sniff, how long have we been waiting for this...? We almost gave up."

You almost giggled at the way Archbishop Yaga wiped his tears with a handkerchief as he presented you with his gift.

Despite your initial reservations, you enjoyed the festivities more than you expected. You had opposed the idea at first, finding it quite unnecessary, but Satoru had pouted for three long days until you eventually relented to appease him.

Speaking of him, he was equally dressed to impress, looking every bit as an emperor he was in an exquisite aquamarine military uniform and robes. Despite engaging in conversation with Earl Nanami, he kept a watchful eye on you, stealing glances in your direction to ensure you were well.

You nodded at him, and he threw you a wink. You smiled.

Everything was truly going well... until the herald announced:

"Prince Megumi and Royal Consort Hanabi from Eastern Empire!"

There was suddenly a hush over the crowd as the two made their entrance. You stilled, looking at the figure responsible for your checkered life—

Hanabi was starkly different since the last you saw her at the courthouse during your divorce. Her dress was now a vibrant shade of burgundy red, reminiscent of a gown you once wore. Gone was her air of humility, replaced by a display of extravagance befitting a noblewoman.

She is no longer your maid, but Naoya's consort. There was no trace of the woman who once served you. You were actually impressed, as she could actually shape herself into the image of a royal consort.

"Empress." However, your attention quickly shifted to Naoya's nephew, and once also your ward, Megumi, as he bowed before you respectfully. "Congratulations."

A fond smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you regarded the young prince who had once been a very shy individual. It reminded you of the days spent with him just to get him out of his shell.

"Thank you, Megumi."

"Diamonds suit you far better than golds do. I wish only for the best for you, Your Majesty."

It warmed your heart, really. Using that reference to your gold crown from your time in the Eastern Empire, you could see how much Megumi truly understood your position and bore no resentment towards you.

Could the same be said for Naoya though?

Right after you received his gift—an ornate box that seemed oddly familiar to you—Hanabi suddenly blurted out:

"So, fate has smiled upon you. Congratulations Empress Y/N." She kept that soft, meaningful smile on her face as she offered her felicitations.

Ever since her arrival was announced, something about her demeanor had bothered you. There was a subtle emptiness that seemed to linger in her gaze.

"Thank you," you responded, and that was when you noticed it. There was never any celebration for the birth of her daughter and Naoya, only a passing announcement.

And so, you added. "Congratulations on the birth of the princess too."

You could have sworn her expression fell for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure and bowed her head to you.

For a while, you lost sight of her in the crowd, feeling quite comfortable in your dais. Soon after, Satoru returned to your side, and the herald announced:

"Attention! His Majesty the Emperor's gift for Her Majesty the Empress!"

You looked at Satoru questioningly, and he gave you a dashing smirk before turning to the crowd.

"Thank you, all of you, for joining us to celebrate this joyous occasion." The way he carried himself and the sheer confidence he exuded was mesmerizing, you couldn't deny how it made you swoon. "I've been infamous for many things, and I'm sure the tales have spread far and wide. So please, allow me one more gesture with you as the witnesses."

The crowd giggled at his words, and you finally spotted Hanabi among them, quietly assessing the scene.

Your husband turned to you, a soft smile on his face.

"This is for you my empress— my lovely queen. Words can't describe how elated I am to know that now you bear our child." He took your hand and pressed a kiss on it. "And it's only fitting that I praise you along with the skies and the stars."

A footman arrived and presented a pearly box. Satoru opened it, revealing a necklace inside. The centerpiece was a large, flawless diamond surrounded by smaller, perfectly cut stones of the same kind. No matter how you saw it, it was truly a work of art, meant to captivate and dazzle anyone who laid eyes on it.

You let out a gasp. "This..."

Satoru grinned, picking up the jewelry and preparing to place it on you. "Nothing much. Just a little trinket for you."

"This is not just a 'little trinket'!"

Your banter elicited another round of snickers from the audience as Satoru fastened the necklace around your neck. The moment he did, the crowd erupted into applause.

"Actually, my real gift is the new pagoda in the royal gardens, built in honor of the Empress," Satoru stated effortlessly, grinning unabashedly. "Feel free to stop by later, everyone."

To the ton, for him to gift you with something so sacred was the height of extravagance. Some of them wondered how you had managed to turn the elusive emperor into someone so devoted to you.

And a few... might be harboring ill will against you for it.

. . .

Later that night, you were sorting through the gifts you had received throughout the day.

"I don't understand, why would you give an expecting woman this?" Shoko picked apart a manuscript that was the gift from Archbishop Yaga. "Who would read this?"

"I wouldn't, but I'm sure Duke Geto would," you replied, and soon the two of you were giggling together.

From jewelry to ornaments, you were pleased with all the gifts presented by the guests from day one. While most were given out of formality, it was heartwarming to imagine your baby seeing all these someday.

Your attention soon turned to the box Megumi handed you earlier—Naoya's gift.

You were intrigued, because what could your spiteful ex-husband could possibly give you? And you immediately reached over to open the lid to find...

"What's that?" Shoko asked as your eyes widened in slight surprise.

Inside the box was an intricate gold and ruby necklace. One you knew well. The very one you wore during your coronation as the Empress of the Eastern Empire.

Years ago, Naoya himself had chosen this piece for you, and now he was gifting it to you, again?

“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”

Reliving years of your marriage with him wasn't easy. You two were childhood sweethearts, and had been happy in the beginning. You couldn't pinpoint when things began to fall apart, but suddenly Naoya turned into such a person you didn't recognize altogether.

Seeing this relic made you nostalgic, and before you realized it, you touched it, trying to get a better look—

"Ah—!"

Suddenly, a sharp, unexpected pain shot through your abdomen. You instantly dropped the jewelry, letting it crash to the ground, and clutched your lower belly.

"Empress! What happened?!" Shoko rushed to your side in an instant, holding you up, and you whimpered.

"It hurts—!" Your breath hitched, as a seemingly invisible knife gutted you from inside. The intensity of the pain was overwhelming, leaving you gasping for breath. "Shoko, please—"

And before you could even scream or think, the pain blindsided you and your vision titled, before blacking out completely.

First came the warmth, then a reassuring squeeze on your hand. As your consciousness returned, you felt groggy, with your surroundings sharpening into focus.

The first thing that became your main focus the moment your eyes fluttered open was Satoru's face, a mixture of fright and relief etched across his features.

"You're awake..." He breathlessly muttered, sitting on your bedside, interlacing his fingers with yours. "How do you feel?"

"Sa...toru..." your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, and as soon as he heard you speak, he exhaled sharply, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"Heavens, I—" he let out a long sigh, his breath hot against your neck. "I'm so glad... you are..."

"What h-happened to me...?" you were feeling feverish and a dull throb was pounding at the back of your head, before the shock of it all dawned on you. "B-baby...! Our—!"

"Baby is okay too, don't worry," Satoru assured, pulling away from you to gently touch your cheek and squeeze your hand. "Both of you are fine for now..."

The horror that you might lose your baby shook you to the very core. Your vision blurred with the threatening onset of tears.

"Wh-at happened to me, Satoru...?" you asked again as he wiped your first falling tears, your heartbeat sounding so loud in your ears. "I-I was just..."

His expression took on a sudden shift, as if a dark cloud had passed over his face.

"You came into contact with a cursed object," he stated, his eyes hard as he locked onto yours. "You were cursed, Y/N."

"What...?" You were rendered speechless, feeling your body starting to shake. Cursed object? Your past coronation necklace?

Naoya was trying to curse you?

"It's okay, I'm here now, yeah?" Satoru's voice broke through your spiraling thoughts, grounding you in the present. "Look at me. Hey, look at me." he repeated, his deep blue eyes locking onto yours with intensity.

“I’m here. I’m here with you. Nothing—absolutely nothing—will touch you so long as I’m here.”

But in that moment, your mind was so overwhelmed with fear for yourself and your unborn baby that you couldn't fully grasp the magnitude of the mess unfolding before you, and you just cried in his arms.

Feeling your feeble fingers fisting his robes and your inconsolable tears staining his collar, Satoru gritted his teeth.

“This won't happen again,” he whispered into your hair, feeling his rage simmering as he felt the tremors of your sobs against his chest. “I swear, I won't let anything like this happen again.”

To Satoru, that was more than enough to justify all his subsequent actions. Putting a curse on his empress essentially amounted to an act of beginning a war.

And it also meant he no longer had to operate behind the scenes.

“Keep them in Clock Tower. No contact. Only food and water at designated times.”

Satoru's icy gaze on the captain of royal guard compelled him to hastily comply with the order, before his eyes landing on the map of the entire continent.

In response to the incident that befell you, he issued orders for open hostility along the eastern and western borders. Soon after, he would formally declare his intention to go to war.

So close. He was so close to achieving his end goal.

. . .

"Satoru!"

Several days later, Suguru burst into his study, visibly outraged. He clenched his fists, looking as if he was about to throttle him altogether.

"You—" he heaved a harsh breath. "You have gone too far!"

"What are you talking about, Suguru?"

"Is cursing the entire winery village not enough for you?" This was the first time Suguru had been this furious with him. "Did you really have to massacre the neighboring district as well?!"

"They have placed a curse on my empress." It was so easy for him to say it. "Anyone who dares to harm her shall die."

"You can direct it at Zen'in Naoya! Not the innocent civilians!"

Satoru remained silent, neither shaken nor enraged, and he had finally had enough.

“Are you even sure it’s because the empress is cursed?" Suguru challenged. In his view, this farce had been going on too long.

“No, Satoru. You are just using her. For so long, you have wanted to bring bloodshed to Western Empire. You were almost there when Empress Y/N proposed that deal to marry you.”

You were informed, days later.

“His Majesty has placed the prince and royal consort of the Western Empire under strict watch in Clock Tower.”

Clock Tower was essentially the prison where they kept war criminals. Learning that Satoru had confined both Megumi and Hanabi there left you aghast.

After some days of bedrest and getting better, you realized that the entire situation still didn't make sense to you. As hateful as Naoya was, harming you would do him more harm than good. Eastern and Western Empires stood evenly matched in military power, and hence, a conflict between them would bring devastation to both sides.

And moreover, you knew for sure was that Megumi was definitely not the one responsible for this. He was just a boy!

You had to let him out somehow. You had to talk to Satoru about this.

Or at least that was what you thought when you came close to his study.

“Are you even sure it's because the empress is cursed? No, Satoru. You are just using her. For so long, you have wanted to bring bloodshed to Western Empire. You were almost there when Empress Y/N proposed that deal to marry you.”

You stopped on your tracks—stunned into place, to be exact.

“And you’ve struck gold when she did because her influence will provide you with greater advantage.” Suguru scoffed then, lightly shaking his head with a sneer. “Love? How laughable. All these years, you are planning your warpath, how could you claim you love her when you're trying to ravage her homeland without even considering the impact it would have on her?”

It felt like whiplash. Geto Suguru's voice had your feet rooted to the spot, causing all your doubts to resurface and sizzle in an instant. The very question you had tried to avoid, it was suddenly shoved in your face.

What... will Satoru say? Your heart thumped so loud in your ears it made you almost stagger. He couldn't possibly. He simply couldn't. All his actions... they reflected his affection for you and you believed it because you felt it yourself too.

But Satoru's next response was—

“Even when she is derided as the devil, I will bring an end to the Zen’in line in this lifetime.”

And a part of your heart withers then.

The tips of your fingers trembled, finally taking in everything that you had tried to ignore for the past few weeks. It all caught up to you in one overwhelming rush.

Suddenly, it felt as if something inside your chest was torn out and held up for you to see.

"I'm telling you, that day will come sooner than you think, Satoru." Suguru's voice broke through, his frustration palpable. His words snapped you out of your reverie, and you took a step back, retreating to the safety of your study.

The first time you felt utter hollowness wrecking you was when you had suspected that Naoya might have taken Hanabi to his bed. The feelings overwhelming you now were eerily similar to how you felt back then.

Only in this case…

You had used him first, and if he used you in return... you couldn't fault him.

But isn't it still a bitter truth, even when a mutual transaction is very well within his rights, to know that what you believe as love may apparently not really be the case?

Love... of course, he loves you.

Of that, he was certain.

But at the same time… he had his ambitions.

Destroying the Eastern Empire. Was it so wrong that he wanted it? Didn't you want this as well? After all, Naoya had spurned you for a lowly servant and made your life hell, didn’t he?

Satoru strolled through the halls and made his way to your study, where the sight of you, so pretty and regal in your seat, greeted him.

His beautiful, graceful wife and empress of his nation. For so long, he had desired you, and now here you were, perched within his walls. His heart couldn't be more full— his life is complete already.

"Sweetheart, hey... how are you feeling today?" an adoring grin was visible on his face as he approached you. "Does the baby give you trouble today?"

You didn't answer though, and didn't look at him either. It was quite strange, Satoru thought.

"What's wrong? Is there something—" And when you finally turned to him, the look in your eyes was so eerily cold it almost gave him a chill.

"Release Megumi from your dungeon," you told him with a strained tone. "And return him to his home empire."

The smile on Satoru's face vanished that instant.

"I can't do that."

You rose from your seat, facing him. "He is just a child."

Satoru regarded you with a stern look. “That child you speak about is a prince of the Eastern Empire. He has committed a great crime against you.”

“Naoya didn’t do it.” Your steely gaze was unflinching. “He might be senseless, but he isn’t insane enough to deliberately go into a war he might possibly lose.”

Satoru's eyes darkened at your words, as you stood before him with determination. The way you were so adamant somehow took him aback. “How... could you defend him? He has wronged you!”

It was one question you had expected, and you had the answer ready.

“Even if he has, I could never wish doom upon my own homeland, Satoru. I’ve lived most of my life there, I did a great deal of things there— even if you harbor some sort of misguided contempt or just bloodthirsty enough to lay ruin to Eastern Empire, I refuse to be the puppet for your schemes!”

There it was. You had said it. Everything would crumble once again just like your previous marriage.

Satoru was staring at you in slight disbelief, his eyes gleamed with something that you couldn't really pinpoint. Anger? Disappointment?

“Your life was in danger, as was our unborn child’s. Don’t you care about that—!” he actually had to stop to catch his breath. “Don’t you care that our child nearly didn't make it?”

“And? You must have thought it was the perfect grounds for declaring a war?” but you didn’t relent and questioned him with a scoff. “And afterwards, you would try to use me to gain defectors from Eastern Empire, is that it?”

You saw the flash of surprise in your now-husband's eyes right when you recited his words, but you weren't about to hold back any longer now.

“Now you’re using my safety to justify your actions,” you hissed, feeling like suddenly you understood what all of this was. “You’re quite cunning, Satoru. I’ve heard everything—you will do anything to bring an end to the Zen'in lineage! You won’t even consider the repercussions of my reputation being tarnished across the lands!”

“Is that even important now?” Satoru gritted his teeth to suppress his irritation. “You have been cursed. Do you honestly think I would let them get away with cursing my empress? How could I, who seek to protect you, be more vicious than whoever in Eastern Empire who cursed you with that necklace?”

“You’re doing this for your personal gratification!” you exclaimed. “It is never about me. You’re just a warmonger!”

The moment those words left your lips, Satoru stilled. His gaze on you faltered, and you could’ve sworn hurt flashed in his face.

“Just how low… is your opinion of me?” he asked, his tone dropping, eyes devoid of emotion. “You jump into conclusions only after overhearing something in a passing and yet you know for sure Naoya wouldn’t harm you—” he clenched his jaw.

“You… really loved him, don’t you?” he asked with a sardonic smile. “I know it already. You won’t ever be able to do the same for me. You can’t even trust me.”

You were rendered speechless. Despite your doubts of him, hearing this still felt like a slap in your face.

Won’t be able to do the same for him? No. That’s not true. You were—

Satoru let out a defeated laugh and ran his hand through his hair, leaving you uncertain whether he was amused or heartbroken by your lack of response.

“It’s funny, how I have loved you for so long... but apparently the woman I believed to have even a semblance of affection for me doesn’t even exist.”

It felt like that one part of you that was capable of feeling love had been stabbed once again.

To say this out loud hurt you deeply, unbeknownst to him. You didn’t mean this at all, still it was what came out of you—

“In the end, we’re just using each other. That’s all we are to each other.”

Satoru bitterly snorted, finding your accusation so unfair to him.

“How cruel is it that I’m the only one who has to prove this love to you? What about you? You’re terribly, horribly selfish!”

You stayed silent, looking away, caught between the scorching knives that seemed to twist your heart and conflicting emotions in it, uncertain of what to believe anymore. And you didn't really know what heartbreak was like before—

“It has been really exhausting, and I don’t want to bother anymore.”

When his gaze next met yours, dark and piercing, you realized he was no longer the same man who once promised you love and devotion.

“You're free to believe whatever truth you wish. But remember, even if you are my wife and the empress of this nation, should you commit any transgressions… I won’t hesitate to accuse you of treason, Empress.”

You have committed treason.

Satoru had conducted investigation of the sorts just to prove his point. And yet days later, no direct evidence pointing towards Megumi or Hanabi were found in that cursed necklace.

Punishment for treason is imminent death. You were well-aware of that more than anyone, but your consciousness wouldn't allow it if Megumi had to be hanged due to Satoru's antagonism.

"Your Majesty, your kindness knows no bounds," Megumi said, dropping to one knee before you and lowering his head in the throne room. Satoru had chosen not to grace any of you with his presence, leaving you alone to bid farewell to both Megumi and Hanabi.

Since then, you hadn't spoken with him, nor had he visited your chambers. It was as if he considered you nonexistent at all.

And it is really only a matter of time before he finds out.

But at the very least, you were right. It was never Megumi. That boy was fond of you, he could never. So, you shifted your gaze on the woman next to him.

"Royal Consort Hanabi. A word."

It was the cue for everyone else to exit the throne room. Now, you were faced with this woman once again, and yet one thing remained the same— you were still towering over her.

"Why did you do it?" Your calm gaze betrayed a quiet anger that was unmistakably clear. All because of this woman. It was beyond you, how despite having left your past life behind, she had somehow managed to taint your new one as well.

Hanabi looked away, a hint of shame coloring her features. "Your Majesty knows, so why do you spare me?" she asked quietly.

"How preposterous of you to think that I have spared you," you scoffed. "All this time, have you learned nothing at all from standing by Naoya's side?"

She flinched, visibly making herself smaller at your unforgiving tone, still, she dared herself to meet your eyes.

"Can I ask... why you never consider it as Emperor Naoya's doing?" she seemed more confused more than anything, even as her lips wobbled. "The two of you... you don't really hate each other, so why...?"

You didn't want to dwell on why Naoya had chosen that specific piece of jewelry to return to you. If anything, you'd consider it his final parting gift and be done with it.

But the naivety of this woman was astounding. Someone like her wouldn't last long in your seat. You let out a sigh, torn between feeling sorry for her or not.

"You have much to learn about court affairs, Hanabi. And do not think this is an act of mercy. Sending you back to Naoya is a punishment in itself—you know that by now."

Hanabi trembled where she stood, her breaths were shallow, and her hands shook slightly as she struggled to maintain composure in your presence.

Realizing it was futile to continue the conversation, you decided to conclude it.

"Know that I will never forgive you for what you have done to me." Your sharp eyes squared on her, the cold ire in your tone making her shudder.

In all the years Hanabi had known you, you had never appeared more fearsome than you did now, adorned in silks of deep blue hues, with that crown of diamonds gleaming in your head.

Then, as if sealing her fate, you delivered these parting words:

"You've always coveted what I have, and sooner or later, that will be your downfall."

The palace felt suffocating for you. After sending Hanabi away, you took a walk in the gardens, followed closely by your ladies-in-waiting.

Good heavens, what have you done? You definitely didn't regret saving Megumi, but no matter how, you had committed a great crime against your own empire. A sentence would loom over your head!

And what about your baby? Would Satoru execute you while you still had his child inside you?

The very thought made your vision tilt, and you had to lean on the wall for support. Your ladies-in-waiting were immediately clamoring against each other.

"Leave," you commanded, trying to catch your breath while doing so. "I'll… take some time to rest here."

It took you a moment to realize you had reached the pagoda that Satoru had commissioned for you. This was your first time visiting it. The structure was magnificent, towering in height and adorned with exquisite decorations, leaving you in awe.

"It's a gift to the heavens for blessing me with you and our baby."

You wanted to cry. His voice, soft and smooth, conveyed those words so easily to you. He really loved you, didn't he? What made you so unsure about that undeniable fact?

And now you had broken his heart.

Your hand reached for your belly. Though hidden by your dress, you could distinctly feel that it had become firmer these days, holding the product of your love with Satoru.

"I'm sorry, baby..." you whispered, heartbroken. "I didn't mean to drag you into this too..."

You felt nauseous, your breaths come in short pants, and you felt a headache coming. It didn't really register to you that you had crashed into the candle table, before you collected yourself and ventured deeper inside.

You just wanted a sense of peace and quiet. You would think more later, and right now, the darkness inside felt like a comforting lull for you to rest.

. . .

Or at least that was what you had intended, until you looked back and saw the swirling inferno creeping through the halls.

It didn't take long for Satoru to figure out you had really orchestrated Megumi's release.

More than his wounded pride, it was the searing pain of realizing that you truly believed he was only using you for his own benefit. It felt like an insult to everything he had done for you.

Why couldn't you see that? Just how hard is it for you to understand?

And now that it had come to this... what did you expect from him? Should he really make good on his word and punish you? It tore his heart to even consider it.

However, what was worse was… did you think he was really capable of that too?

Amidst his heartache, suddenly he heard loud commotion from outside his study, yells and cries of help— and it roused him from his thoughts that he came out of his study, only to come right into a familiar face.

"Anyone! Anyone at all!" one of your maids was running, sobbing and hysterical. "Her Majesty! Please help Her Majesty!"

"What is all of this ruckus?" Satoru demanded, catching the maid by the hand, as she stuttered in tears.

And then, everything came crashing down with the next words.

"The Empress— is trapped inside the burning tower!"

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[wroteclassicaly]

Summary: A confession leads to unexpected heartbreak.

18+

Warnings: Language, smut, hurt/no comfort, one sided feelings, heartbreak, angst GALORE, self-esteem issues, mentions Steve’s past head trauma, insecurities on both sides, jealous Steve, mentions Nancy, best-friend!Reader w/ best-friend!Steve, and friends to lovers. This one hurts, folks!

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Word count: 3,985

A/N: No banner for this! Just some raw writing I did early into the hours of this morning/night, adding on some today. I wanted to try something different, so enjoy!

Note: Also posting this the day after I wrote it. Okay, lmaooooo.

“I love you, Steve.”

The words come easy to you, the courage taking years to build. But once they leave your mouth as you’re cradling his neck’s nape, playing with the chocolate curls that have grown out there, you cannot figure out why you wasted time not saying it. It’s been an ongoing thing between you two — a two year thing, in fact. Never any pushing for labels, no exclusivity. You were patient, he was giving, and you assumed you were both reading on the same page.

In a few minutes, however, you’d find out how very wrong that you were. You wished that your mouth and your legs had stayed closed around your best-friend, Steve Harrington.

It was a typical weekday, no dates planned, acting as if his last date hadn’t upset you, or that you enjoyed the one you forced yourself to go on with some guy, so that your feelings weren’t completely obvious. Sidenote: to mostly everyone but Steve, they kinda were. Steve had called you after your shift at the local Burger King, asking if you wanted to come over and spend the night. Not unusual. You always trade spending nights, rolling around on various surfaces, before enjoying breakfast together.

Intimate, casual, perfect.

Your answer was an automatic yes. A quick shower after work for you, a return phone call, and he’d gotten in his BMW, picked up some takeout, went to your door to get you, held your hand to the car, opened your damned door, and the dessert had been him between your thighs. This night in particular, it was one of pent up frustrations and desperations that had just one satiable cure. You ended up on top of Steve, his back pressed into the headboard, mutual clothes scattered all over his bed.

His shoulders became leverage, his massive palms spread out on either side of your waist, pinching the plush skin into his palming grip. Nose dusting across a defined nose bridge, caught in a cheekbone, with kisses rushed, deep, sloppily trying to stay focussed, but driven to reach that place buried inside one another.

Steve’s thighs provide a platform for you to sit upon, ankles locked around his back. He’s slippery with sweat, places you’d like to lick clean. You pull back from your cove to say it again, unable to stop yourself, going in for a kiss. You don’t think he heard, he’s humble sometimes, disbelieving in others. One hand cups his jaw, the other staying put to card through his hair, moisture pooling between your fingers.

“Hey? You still with me, big guy? I said I love you.” You’re smiling softly, thumbpad caressing his jawline. You feel it twitch, his shoulders tense.

Is he gonna cum? You know the signs. “Steve?” Something in your guts feels a little off. You ignore it.

“I know what you said. I heard you say it the first time.” He interrupts, tries to remain impassive, his hips slowing from your combined movements.

Like salt in the wound, a fresh slap to the face. No way.

“You heard me say that I love you?” You have to try one more time. He’s been hit in the head a lot, maybe he didn’t get it? He couldn’t have, right? Are you really this stupid, this dense?

You attempt to kiss him, to lay it all down through your actions, rather than your words this time, but your mouth doesn’t get the chance to meet him.

His lids flutter closed, he sighs, his face leaving yours, hands lifting off your body to wrap around your wrists, slowly untangling them from his neck. “Stop, alright?”

You feel your heart rate accelerate, your body tensing, your throat is choked with a teary panic, a bulldozer driving across your organs, settling atop you with its weight. Every single wall you still have built, they slowly shake off their cobwebs to rise from the dust, smothering you in the smoke. And he’s suddenly a very tight fit, to the point where you’re wincing, body immediately wanting, trying to push him out. He notices, one hand dropping to the side of your face. “Hey, hey. Hon —“ He stops himself, lets your nickname drop, falling back into your regular name.

He isn’t sure who that action hurts the most.

One look at your vacant expression and Steve feels as if he’s been sucker punched, that he’s the meanest version of himself he’s ever been.

He’s still inside of you, you let him into your body, you told him a sacred set of words. And this is what he’s doing to you? Hurting you to the point where your body starts to get frightened? But he couldn’t just come while you poured your heart out, he couldn’t continue like his world was normal anymore. He reaches down to wrap around his base, face wrinkling, teeth gritting. You’re so fucking tight that it hurts, his cock aches for you when he eases his way outward, dragging combined essences with him. “Let me just…” He starts, deep voice a rocky, rasp, finishing when his length is gone from your body, dripping with you onto his sheets, covering him.

Once he’s out, you’re already passed the point of overwhelming vulnerability. Your legs clamp closed, your hands cover your chest, unwillingly to wrap yourself in his damn sheet that smells like home to you. Steve is unsteady on his feet, halfway hard, but slowly softening at your nearly curled position. You aren’t looking at him, you won’t, you cannot. It’s not safe right now, because if you do, it’ll all come apart and it won’t stop. Steve is on overload in his own head, eyes sparkling, tears matted into his lash-line.

He has to breathe through his nose when he says it. It’s wrong, it’s so fucking wrong. But he’s helpless, he can’t take this environment, he wants to run from you, from your words.

“I’ll, uh. I’ll, uhm… I can take you home if you get dressed.”

He’s blinking away blurry vision as he catches your wounded, tear fogged expression the moment that he’s snatching his boxers and jeans off the bed, and making for the bedroom door. He shuts it and leaves you to re-cloth yourself in silence. It’s honestly deafening, you’re not sure how you manage. Revealing your body to his room, to his scent, pictures on his wall, various trinkets, but not him. You’re shaking as you put on piece by piece of fabric, dreading having to see him.

Your hand hovers over the door, giving several pauses before you open it. You step out onto the deep carpet, plush across your feet, mashed against your toes. He’s nowhere in sight. And you remember that he took his clothing, so he’s probably getting re-dressed.

Fuck this. It’s in your brain on broadway lights, body in flight mode. You’re heading down the staircase and snatching your shoes up by the entryway, forgetting your purse in his room. You don’t care anymore, you have to get out of here, this place closing in on you like a funhouse. You shut the door as quietly as you can, then you’re sprinting down the Harrington’s driveway.

Is it dramatic? Yeah. Oh-fucking-well, you’re running on adrenaline so your body doesn’t feel the disgusting agony that’s slowly eating its way through your insides. You get about halfway and you hear footsteps approaching at high rates, your name being chanted. Steve is at your side in seconds, breathless.

“Shit, you scared me. Why the hell did you leave like that?”

Your eyes widen to give him an incredulous look, and that’s when the tears escape, rolling down your cheeks. Steve sees your disheveled state next. No purse, no shoes. Your blouse is halfway hanging off your shoulder. It’s an automatic instinct, his fingers brushing underneath the fabric, dragging across your skin as he pulls up to secure it.

You want to flinch away, but you don’t. Hurt settles in his brows. He’s fucking incredible with that question. “You aren’t wearing your shoes. You can’t leave my house like this.”

Autopilot flies in to protect you, leveling off everything else that you could say or do. There’s no anger, there’s no sorrow, there’s nothing. And that’s what scares him the most when you say, “I just wanna go home.”

He can’t stand it anymore, his natural urge to protect your safety, has him wrapping you in his arms. You still smell like his bed, like him, like love making left unfinished. Your arms remain clutched to your chest. No reaction.

He says it out loud, unknowing if he means it to you or just to himself. “We should’ve never started having sex.”

A mistake. You’re his mistake. Not his biggest. Not even a real regret.

Steve Harrington has only ever loved one girl. He’s only ever regretted one loss. He even cared more for Robin before he even went to you. Are you even pretty enough, or does he just like you because you’re friends and he’s horny, or searching for something? You’re not it, not even a morsel.

And it doesn’t matter what you say, what you do, how you feel. You’ll be stuck with that, while Steve clings to whatever he truly wants. Now you’ve lost what you’ve built with him, destroyed his safe place by becoming a cliche. He doesn’t deserve your one sided feelings.

The wheels are spinning in your head, but Steve still sees nothing in your responses, nor your reception. So he lifts his keys from his pocket to respect your wishes, his chest on fire with an acidic inferno, his head clouded with pain far worse than anything he’s ever experienced, his skull echoing with what his brain has just endured. You walk to his car without sparing a glance, feet still bare. He swallows and it just feels like piles of broken glass. He can do nothing but do what you asked of him.

He drives you to your house in silence. Steve Harrington has been sure of one thing in two years, and that’s always been you. But as he pulls up to your house, you’re climbing from his car before he can put it in park, your voice hauntingly, desperately hollow. “I’m sorry I ruined everything.”

And you leave him, the levee going to break once you’re through your front door, pain in between your legs to remind you the next morning before your mind does. His nose crinkles, his fingers pinching, a thin line of snot trailing out. Steve wants to say to you that it’s him who has ruined it all. That he’s so scared of those words, that he doesn’t understand how someone could love him, so he can’t let your words sink in, can’t consciously reciprocate. A coward who won’t let himself feel your declaration.

Steve Harrington’s brain, however, knows the truth.

~*~

Waking up the next morning had been a reality that neither you, nor Steve were prepared to handle. You pretty much cried yourself to sleep, whilst Steve held onto your purse and paced his floor until his feet verged on rug burn, tears blurring his vision. When he finally did lay down, his alarm went off two hours later. He woke to your scent all over his bed, still covering him, lingering even as he showered, especially in his car on the way to the store. The same car that things have happened in, and the very one that he dumped you off like trash last night, after what you’d gone through to tell him the extent of your feelings. He wasn’t functioning on a full level from the second he pulled into the parking lot.

~*~

You could still feel him, your body sore, brain picking up seconds after you opened your eyes, toes hitting the blush rug underneath your bed. Your sclera was bloodshot, burning, clouding over as you passed by pictures of you with Steve, and quite a few you’d taken of him solo, that you had on the corkboard above your desk. You’d deal with taking everything down later, unsure what you would be doing with the items. Forgoing breakfast was a given, your stomach in knots. Showering went painfully fast, leading you right into putting on your work uniform.

You barely made it three hours into your shift, headache, heartache going head to head, and your boss had noticed your discomfort, gently releasing you for the day. Only one person made everything better, but that was no longer an option. Your confession sets you free, backfiring what type of freedom you wanted to occur. It was eleven o’clock when you dock yourself into Family Video’s parking lot, relieved Steve was on his normal lunch hour. Even if you can spend time with Robin, it will help.

You can hurry, you don’t have to see his face.

Fate has other plans.

You’re helping Robin unpack some candy shipments when his car pulls in about half an hour early. She could tell you weren’t feeling your best, so that’s why she’d assumed you didn’t want a male presence around. You’re honestly shocked she hasn’t clocked Steve as the mystery man she’s known about the past two years.

“Don’t worry,” she says, upon seeing your soured, slightly fearful expression. “It’s just our doofus. He’s been in a brooding mood today, probably why he’s back early.”

A mood? So you have ruined it all.

You nod, forcing yourself to stay put, immediately gaining on deep breathing. At least you don’t shake when you begin to alphabetize the candy. You can hear her greet Steve before he even gets a word in. She snatches some kind of paper bag, that you assume he brought back for her — away, rifling through its contents as she speaks.

“Dingus, you still have that bottle of Tylenol in your car?”

Steve’s heart is in his throat, wrapping him tighter than Vecna’s hive minds did. He gives a silent yes, head trying to lean around a few shelves. Fuck. Of course that was your car out front, he wasn’t just imagining shit. He’s hopeful, anxious. What are you here for? Who?

“Good. Can you go get it, please? She doesn’t feel good and she’s been helping me all morning.”

Immediate worry doesn’t cover it. You’re here and not at work, and you’re sick? Steve snaps out of what trance he’s in, eyes pinching closed and he nods rapidly. “Shit, yeah. I’ll go get it. Here, Robs. Can you take my water to her?” He hands off his half drank bottle without question, moving back outside to get the medicine.

It’s funny, the look on your face as Robin presents you with his drink. You all share off of one another all the time. She places the food bag beside her, to which you politely decline her offer for some. Doesn’t matter if you haven’t eaten, you can’t.

“I know he has cooties, but I think we’re safe.” She shoulder bumps you, trying to get a smile. When you barely lift your mouth, she goes into her version of mom mode. It dawns on her and it comes from her mouth without tact.

“Wait, is this about that mystery guy who took your virginity? The one you’ve been seeing for two years? Holy shit, did he finally commit?”

If Robin couldn’t tell how you felt about Steve, or see anything from his part, then you guess it’s true.

There’s nothing to see.

You can feel your rib cage gape open, heart falling into your ass, strangled by your intestines.

Luckily, Steve has perfect timing, appearing right in earshot as Robin reveals information you never told him. The room feels small, you feel as if you could melt into the floor, non-existent. Would it matter? You are starting to think love controls everything, after all. You’re fucking doomed.

He lets his Nikes carry him forward, bottle of Tylenol in his massive hand. He’s starting to tremble, betrayal etched into his mouth, giving away what Robin now feels stupid for not knowing. It all clicks when your moods are matched, your mixed reactions combining.

“Oh. Oh, holy fuck. I’m…” She looks at her best-friend, who is halfway seething to near sobbing, and at you, who cannot look her in the eyes. “Shit, I should’ve known. Why didn’t I know? Fuck. I’ll give you two a minute —“

“Steve?” Your voice is tinged with something, one that has him slightly elated that you’re vocal, and even more pissed at you. He waits, his tongue caught in his throat, about to ask you, but you’re adding on. “May I have two Tylenols please?” Standing on your feet right after.

He’s like a fucking statue, on autopilot, unmoving this time. Robin rises, plucks the bottle gently, shaking out two and drops them into your hand, handing the container back to Steve, ultimately giving his water to you. She mouths an apology, but you’re smiling a tacky, forced grin that looks as if it’s pinching your lips. She’s bound to be upset you both neglected to tell her. Keeping your mouth shut should’ve been the reverse way.

“I’ll call you tonight, Robs. I’m sorry, okay?”

“Hey.” She stops you before you can step back to leave, wrapping her arms around you, maroon coated lips by your ear. “I don’t have a foot fetish, but I really should’ve kept the entirety of my own in there to avoid this.”

That gets you laughing softly, and you don’t look at Steve as you depart from her arms and for your car. He’s still frozen.

Robin does, though, stares right through him. She can see how much he’s hurting. She doesn’t want to judge either side, so she simply reaches up to rub along between his shoulder blades. “If you need to —“

“I’ll be right back.” His eyes are trained on your retreating form, handing her the pills as he follows you.

“That works too!” She points a finger in his direction, sighing. Is everyone else onto this, or is she just off her game?

~*~

You’ve just barely downed the pills, tasting Steve’s cinnamon breath spray, combined with his morning coffee all around the lid of his water. You chug it fast, your back still turned to the front door. That’s when the dumbass little bell rings, slapping back against the door, and his voice comes into play.

“You can taste my mouth on that, right?”

You remain non-verbal. This angers him to the point he steps close enough that you can smell his cologne and aftershave. His tone shatters, emotion bleeding through. “Because friends share things with one another.”

“Well, friends sure as hell don’t fuck!” It snaps free of your mouth, shocking the both of you, plastic crinkling in your hands. Your head is hurting, between your thighs is aching, and you’re positive that a piece of your chest has been carved out.

He’ll always have that, whether he wants it or not.

“They don’t lie about being a virgin, either! They don’t say that it’s been a while when they’re in pain and I’m fucking asking what’s wrong the first time that we have sex! If I would have known, then it would’ve been—”

“Wouldn’t have happened, so I didn’t build some little attachment to you, right?”

Steve visibly recoils.

“Is that really what you thought of me? That I was still that big of an asshole? Because we were already pretty attached. I did everything with you, you practically lived at my house.”

“If you didn’t have a date. Maybe it was just sex, me and you. Still doesn’t answer if you found me attractive. Probably just biased because you were my friend.” Word vomit. Too late to stop now.

Steve mulls over the meaning of were. Past tense? Does it apply to current?

His hands go onto his hips, a sidestep, and he turns back to look at you in astonishment, having to swipe aggressively at the wetness in his eyes. He doesn’t even know where to begin with everything you just said. His brain is screaming to tell you that no, he’s always found you fucking beautiful. That he would have preferred you over all of those dates, or any that he’s ever had for that matter. But he’s so confused about letting anything in, his tongue becomes tied, only able to get out one lame question. “Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”

When your gaze flickers up, you see he’s snarling, but there’s tears clouding his vision. You’re a little lighter in how you speak to him, dismantling your armor. “Because I didn’t want you to think I was a loser, I didn’t want our first time to be about that, I didn’t think you would want to… I didn’t mean to — I’m sorry, Steve.”

He marvels. You really thought that? Did he not express his care for you?

“I would’ve made it better for you. Fuck, were you even okay after it happened?”

His moral compass is extraordinary nowadays, and it does make you hesitant, but you let your fingers cup his cheek. “It was the best. You were the best. I wanted it to happen with you. And it’s something that I would never take back.”

Your teeth start to chatter, your own tears forming. You want to console further, to wipe away his. But you start to let your hand slip. Steve catches it, holding your fingers in his palm, wrapping his digits around to lace. His deep voice drags along each syllable, crooked and wet with emotion. “Please let me hold you before you leave?”

And god, do you want to. You’ve never needed anything more. But if you let him… You just refuse to put yourself into that place right now. You shake your head, replacing your hand with his water bottle. His tongue pokes at his cheek, he shakes his head, attempting to argue. He closes his fist around the plastic.

“I meant what I said last night. And I realize that I ruined everything, Steve.” He can’t speak, why isn’t he able to disagree, why is it like he’s drowning, running in slow motion?

“I just don’t know if it can be repaired.” By the time you slide into your car, hand over your face, arm propped to your steering wheel, body heavy into your seat, Steve finds himself worked up to the point that he can’t bear to be around you, he can’t watch this, his figure pivoting, and he returns straight into the store, booking it to the break room.

~*~

After you’ve cried for what feels like forever, embarrassing yourself, light headed with guilt, you don’t end up driving yourself home, unable to do it in this state. You make your way to a pay phone to call Nancy. How fucking ironic. What’s worse, is that she can’t make it, you find out, as Jonathan Byers pulls up in her station wagon, letting you know that she’s sorry, but she got a call back to her job. You assure him it’s fine, grateful another friend is here, at least, joining him.

He doesn’t press you. But he knows. He’s one of them that pegged it from the start, he and Nance both.

“You okay?” Is his gruff question.

“Yeah, I just have to go home.”

He says nothing else. But what neither of you see, is Steve Harrington, as he’s just getting to the doorway, regretting his decision to not go back once he realized you didn’t leave, unable to stand you being that upset and not trying to do something (if he could) — watching the affection Jonathan Byers extends your way, and your rejection of any reluctance to accept it. His amber eyes are smoldering, his fist clenched, every muscle rigid, heart rate firing off rapid shots.

“Steve…” Robin tries, folding in beside him, seeing his dismissal of logic, his brain switching, latching onto primal panic. “You’re at work, remember? Video tapes, acne covered boss?”

But he’s throwing off his vest in response and striding towards his car, ignoring her pleas.

[messylxve]

old flame | aaron hotchner x reader

part two

content warning: angst, yearning, sad hotch, tension is THICC, mentions of abduction, guns, pregnant character, angry cops

pt1

Aaron still thinks about you most days. There was not much he clung onto from his years before, but you were one of the few he couldn’t let go of.

He supposed it was because you were one of the few things he never got closure for. You had just disappeared one day, completely untraceable as if you never wanted to be seen by him again.

And he didn’t know why.

It was a rather quiet day in the BAU. Morgan and Prentiss goofed off while Reid rambled on about…something. Aaron stuck it out in his office per usual.

He should have been doing paperwork, but his mind wandered elsewhere. It wandered to the picture in his wallet. He gazed at it sadly, wondering when it all went wrong.

The picture was of you and him: a selfie taken on a camera from when the two of you went to a store late at night and decided to cart each other around in the shopping carts.

Strange how some of the happy memories he had left, were of you.

“Hotch.”

He flipped his wallet shut, his attention now on JJ as she stood at the doorway of his office. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “What do you have?”

“Multiple abductions in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Two girls, a woman, and a boy. All ranging in ages, but all related to officers under the police force.”

“What’s the time difference between each?”

JJ shook her head, flipping through one of the folders. “Three days.”

Hotch quickly pocketed his wallet and stood from his desk. “We’ll do the debriefing on the jet, alert the others. Wheels up in 10.”

To say it was chaos in Harrisburg Police precinct was an understatement. Phones rang endlessly, people rushed around and the sound of arguing echoed from the chief’s office.

“It's not usually like this,” one officer greeted. “This has become personal for a few of us and they aren't taking it lightly.”

Hotch scanned over the precinct, the uneasiness in the air radiating out to his team. “I suggest you take those officers off the case. We can't afford any distractions from anyone to interfere with this.”

“That's what were working on,” he nodded over to the office where four uniformed individuals crowded around a desk. “They aren't making it easy.”

Hotch’s frown deepened before looking around. “Do you have a space for my team to set up?”

“Yes, right this way,” he motioned for the group to follow him before turning back to Hotch. “Chief wants you in her office before we begin breaking things down.”

“Thank you.”

Hotch didn't know why he didn’t suspect something when he heard the shouting the first time. Walking closer, he realized he knew that voice. It was the voice that had haunted him for years.

“Do not question my authority again. The four of you are suspended from this case. If I hear another complaint, argument or so much of a whisper about my decision your guns will be confiscated until the case is closed. Am I clear?”

Aaron’s heart stuttered. His hand found the doorframe to grip as he watched in awe.

A small chorus of ‘yes chief’ followed your reprimand from all but one officer.

“Am. I. Clear. Smith?”

The man grit his teeth, staring you dead in the eye. “Yes chief.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Each officer left the room, leaving the two of you alone and suddenly you felt like kids all over again.

“Aaron.”

“y/n,” he breathed out. “I didn’t know—,”

“Neither did I,” you interrupted, knowing exactly what he was talking about. You felt your defenses slip away for the first time in a long time in his presence. You hated to admit it but it felt good. Seeing him again despite all of the years away.

But that look in his eyes, the pain and heartbreak. It took you right back to the day you fucked up.

It was almost as a spell was casted, Aaron saw your walls form again.

You cleared your throat and folded your arms. “There are only so many officers I can have on the field for this, so I thank you and your team for being here.”

“I- of course.”

Aaron had never felt so unsure during a case.

“Agent Smith says he was on the phone with her right before it happened and she hung up quickly,” you mused, standing in the front entryway of the Smith home with Hotch and Morgan. “Jessica Smith was 8 months pregnant when taken…”

“Which means she couldn’t have put up much of a fight,” Hotch finished your thoughts. Your eyes found his for just a moment and your heart stuttered in its chest. Had it been so many years ago, the two of you would have laughed about it, or shouted jinx, but not anymore.

“But she still would have put up some semblance of a struggle. She didn’t fight at all.” You cleared your throat.

Morgan looked oddly between the two of you, crossing his arms. “Right, so is it possible the unsub had a weapon. Threatened her to let him in.”

Hotch shook his head. “I don’t think so, the unsub had to be someone she trusted.”

“But didn’t want around the kids,” you muttered, eyes staring down the entryway.

Morgan furrowed his brows. “What makes you say that.”

Your eyes flickered up to Hotch, that’s where they wanted to go, but you trained them on Morgan instead. “The other kids were home, would’ve ran to the door to see who might be there.”

Hotch watches you carefully as you walk over to the door, your gloved hand closing it. “Mom makes it to the door first, sees the unsub through the peephole and recognizes him, but thinks it might not be a good idea for the husband to know he was there.”

You turn away from the door, facing the men. “She hangs up the phone abruptly, tells the kids to go play and leaves her phone right here on the table before opening up the door.”

You open the door slowly and step outside, noting the mud on the welcome mat leading to the the first few feet of the house.

“The mud from the prints match the ones at the other scenes, but they don’t run through the house…they stop here.”

“She didnt want him far into the house at all,” Hotch finished off again.

“So that means the unsub is someone each family knows and Jessica recognizes, but is a sore subject, not wanting her husband to know he was there,” Morgan theorizes.

“Someone who was fired or discharged,” you realized.

Hotch furrowed his brows. “Have you recently let go of officers.”

You nodded your head. “A few. But there’s no way to go through files like that without getting unneeded attention from other officers.”

Hotch turned to Morgan. “Call Garcia, tell her—,”

“No need,” you interrupted. “I have direct files saved to my personal computer. It’ll be faster.”

Hotch eyes stayed on you, contemplating his choices.

“Morgan, get back to the precinct, update the others. l/n and I will retrieve the files.”

The car ride was…awkward to say the least.

Hotch had a million things he wanted to say, he needed to say. But somewhere between his heart and his voice, it died upon delivery.

“Spit it out,” you blurted out suddenly, forcing his attention to you.

“What?”

“You’re twiddling your thumbs and biting the inside of your cheek. Every time you look at me you take this gasp of air. What do you want to tell me?”

So many years had passed and yet you could still read him like the back of your hand.

“That was impressive back there…” he swallowed hard. “You’d make a good profil—,”

“Please don’t tell me you cooked up all of your guts just to tell me I’d be a good profiler,” you laughed.

It sounded harsh, but there was something in your tone that eased Aaron’s heart. He laughed too for the first time in a long time.

“No I guess not.”

However just as easily as the moment eased up, it easily tensed back into that painful silence.

“Why did you leave,” he blurted out finally.

Your smile dissolved so quickly, it pained Aaron to be the reason it was even there.

“I got an offer from UPenn. Full ride.”

Aaron frowned. “Congratulations.” It was genuine, despite how hollow his voice sounded. “But that’s not the real reason is it.”

Your voice suddenly felt very raw as you attempted to swallow back your emotions, but just as quickly as they left, it came back. “No…”

“Why—,”

“Because,” you burst out. “After that night, when you begged me to…” you couldn’t bear to finish that sentence. “…what we did…I couldn’t go back to what we were. It hurt too much to. I was ready to tell you everything when I saw you again but…you and Haley. She… I couldn’t do that to her.”

You were bearing your emotions out, on the verge of tears releasing every pent up emotion since that night and Aaron never felt more stupid in his life.

They had finally come at a red light when Aaron spoke up. “What night? What did I…what did I ask you to do?”

He was terrified of your answer.

But you. Everything in you stopped. Your heart, your brain, even your breath. Everything was so silent when you turned your head and finally looked him in the eye for the first time in ages.

“You really don’t remember?”

He shook his head. “No.”

No

No

No

His single word reverberated through your bones, sinking deep into your soul. What do you mean no?

You turned to the road, a humorless chuckle falling from your lips. “You don’t even remember.”

“y/n,” Aaron called your name with such desperation. “Please.”

You looked back at him, hearing that tone in his voice. Suddenly you were taken back to that night. Between the pleas in his voice and that depressingly sad look in his eyes, he looked just the way he did all those nights ago.

God how long is this light?

“You were drunk. Haley accused you of being in love with me. You begged me to kiss you to prove it was a lie.”

His heart squeezed in his chest and his lungs felt as if it was wrapped in barbed wire. It hurt.

“Did I?”

Your eyes flickered over to him for just a millisecond.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

part three coming soon!!

taglist: @mackannkees @gghostwriter

[nhlclover]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 | 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

summary: in the wake of your painful break-up with jack, you find comfort and blossoming feelings with luke.

warning: part two to this fic, bsf ! luke hughes x reader, jack hughes x reader, angst, jack once again being a terrible (ex)boyfriend, little tiny bit of swearing

word count: 2.93k

In the days that followed your birthday, your head felt like it was in a blender. The entire day had left you confused, hurt, and angry. The sting of Jack's absence was a constant ache, and the silence that followed was deafening. You hadn't heard from him at all — not even a ‘sorry for bailing on your birthday’ text. The uncertainty about your relationship status gnawed at you, making you question everything.

Luke had been a steady presence during this time, though he couldn’t provide any more information about Jack’s whereabouts or reasons. He had barely spoken to his brother since their blowup at the arena. Their encounters were limited to brief, awkward glimpses at the rink, where Luke made a point to avoid prolonged interaction. In the meantime, Luke had been staying over at your apartment and occasionally at Jesper's. You hated how you had come between two brothers, creating a rift between two people who had once been so close.

The days dragged on, each one marked by the same painful silence from Jack. You tried to go about your daily routine, but the weight of your unresolved feelings made it difficult to focus. Work was a welcome distraction, though your colleagues noticed the change in your demeanor.

One evening, when you were sitting on your couch, a knock at your door drew your focus off the baseball game playing on your TV. When you opened the door, you were met with a remorseful-looking Jack.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly.

You hesitated momentarily, wondering if it was a good decision, but ultimately stepped aside and let Jack in. Jack had spent the last couple of days in a haze, his argument with Luke replaying in his head. His words had been harsh but true, piercing through the fog of Jack's self-deception and forcing him to confront the reality of his actions.

As he sat across from you at your kitchen table, the silence between you two was almost unbearable. Jack's eyes wandered, unable to meet yours, focusing instead on the bracelets on his wrists.

He took a deep breath, his eyes finally meeting yours. “I’m so sorry… for everything, y/n,” he said. “I know I’ve been a terrible boyfriend and I let you down, not just on your birthday but so many times before that.”

You felt your emotions rising in your chest, tears brimming in your eyes as you remembered your birthday. You remembered waiting throughout the night as everyone who wasn’t your boyfriend arrived to celebrate your birthday. The memory of the pitying glances you’d received as the hours passed by only amplified your heartbreak.

Jack reached out, taking your hand that was resting on the table in his. His touch was tentative as if he feared you might pull away. “I’ve been a fucking idiot,” he continued. “I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t important to me, and I know I’ve messed up more times than I can count, but… I don’t want to lose you. I need a second chance.”

You considered his words but couldn’t help but feel that they rang empty. You took a shaky breath, pulling your hand away gently. “Jack, it’s not a second chance at this point… it’s a fourth or a fifth,” you said. “The amount of times you’ve left me sitting in front of my mirror, my makeup completely done and so excited to go on a date with my boyfriend, only to have you text me that you can’t make it? I can’t keep doing that.”

Jack’s face fell, the true extent of his non-committal behavior sinking in. He looked down at the table, unable to meet your gaze. “I know, y/n… I’ve been awful, and I’ve let you down so many times. I can’t even begin to make up for all the times I wasn’t there for you.”

You wiped a tear from your cheek, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s not just about the dates, Jack. It’s about feeling like I’m the last thing on your mind, like an afterthought.”

Jack’s eyes snapped back to yours, soft and desperate. “You’re not an afterthought, y/n.”

“Jack…” you shook your head. “If I was everything to you, you wouldn’t have missed my birthday. You wouldn’t have let me down time and time again. I can’t keep being disappointed. I can’t keep letting myself get pushed around like this. I feel like I’m a little girl again, crushing on the older brother of my best friend, wondering if he’ll ever give me the time of day or even spare me a glance.”

Jack’s shoulders slumped as the weight of your words hit him, each sentence like a physical blow. He knew you were right. He knew he had no defense. No valid excuse. He could see the pain in your eyes, shown with every tear that came down from your sullen eyes.

Jack recognized he was at the point of no return. You weren’t going to let him keep acting like this, at least not with you. A silence fell between the two of you as you read Jack’s anguished eyes, realizing he’d backed down.

“You should go, Jack,” you said softly, the finality of the words hanging in the air.

Jack nodded, standing up. He hesitated for a moment as if he wanted to say something, but knew there was nothing left to say, nothing that could change the damage that had been done. He simply walked to your side, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, before leaving you sitting at your kitchen table, alone.

The door closed behind him with a soft click. You sat there a moment, the still silence of the apartment pressing on you. The reality of the situation finally hit you, and you felt a sob rise in your throat. You buried your head in your hands, the tears coming hard and fast, falling to the wood below you.

It was a mix of sadness and relief that washed over you. The sadness of losing someone you once loved deeply, and the relief of finally choosing yourself.

In the aftermath of your breakup with Jack, life felt like a whirlwind of emotions. Everything from pain to sadness to solace passed by you. Luke, true to his nature, was by your side through it all. The pain of Jack's absence was tempered by Luke's unwavering support. Slowly, you began to see him in a new light.

At first, it was the little things. Luke always knew how to make you laugh; his lighthearted jokes became a soothing balm for your broken heart. You began to notice how he always seemed to be there for you, how he never seemed too busy or distracted to listen. One evening, after you’d complained about your day at work, he came over with takeout and offered to watch the new season of Bridgerton, despite having complained about it previously. As you ate and laughed together, a warmth in your chest began to develop.

The next few weeks brought more of Luke's comforting presence. He came over to fix your leaky faucet that your super had neglected to fix despite your incessant asking. Each hangout also functioned as his way to check in on you, ensuring you were doing okay since the break-up. One night, he brought you a bouquet of flowers, just because he thought you’d like them.

The repeated small gestures spoke volumes to you, changing the way you saw Luke. You realized that he’d always been there, quietly supporting you, understanding you in ways that Jack never did. That realization hit you during one of your late-night conversations, as Luke listened intently while you told a story from your day.

The days passed and the relationship you once had as children came back in full force. You started looking forward to the moments you got to spend with Luke. You began to crave his company, seeking him out even for the simplest things like grabbing coffee or taking a walk in the park, even offering to work out with him despite having to go through his intense hockey regimes.

It all came to a head one evening as you sat on your balcony, watching the sun set upon the city. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, the cool breeze blowing over your skin. You turned to look at him, the setting sun casting a golden glow on his face. It was in that moment that you realized just how much he meant to you.

The more time you spent with Luke, the stronger your feelings grew.

However, with your blossoming feelings came an overwhelming sense of fear and guilt. Fear, because acknowledging these emotions might disrupt the delicate balance of your lives, and disrupt the friendship you'd both held dear for years. Guilt, because crushing on your ex-boyfriend's little brother, even if you knew him first, felt like a cardinal sin, and the idea of causing a rift between them was almost unbearable.

You found yourself in a near-constant state of inner turmoil. The joy of being with Luke was tempered by the anxiety of the potential fallout. What if Luke didn't feel the same way? What if he did? The questions spiraled in your mind, each one bringing a new wave of dread. You were scared of complicating things, of making a mess of something so precious. Your friendship with Luke was one of the most important things in your life, and the thought of losing it because of your feelings was terrifying.

As these emotions churned within you, you started to withdraw slightly, afraid that any small gesture might betray your true feelings. You became hyper-aware of every interaction, second-guessing yourself constantly. Did that touch linger too long? Was that compliment too heartfelt? You began to isolate yourself, creating a distance in an attempt to protect what you had, but this only made the feelings more confusing.

Meanwhile, Luke noticed the shift in your behavior. He brushed it off, as he knew how stressed you were due to work, but when it remained for weeks at a time, he couldn’t ignore the growing distance. He noticed the way you hesitated around him, whether it was when you were going in for a hug or when you laughed, and it was missing the usual genuine ring to it. It was as if a barrier had formed between you, sending profound unease through him.

He started to question himself, wondering if he'd done something to cause your withdrawal. Was he too forward in his gestures of friendship? Did he unknowingly overstep boundaries in his efforts to make you feel comfortable around him again? As he reflected on your interactions and the days spent together, doubts crept into his mind. Maybe he misread your signals, mistaking your friendliness for something more. The fear of having made you uncomfortable ate away at him, casting a shadow over his every interaction with you.

Luke finally decided he couldn't ignore the growing tension any longer. He knew he needed to confront you, not only to ease his own concerns but also because he cared deeply about your well-being. You’d been dodging his calls, coming up with excuses to avoid one-on-one hangouts with him. It pained you to do that, especially after experiencing that with Jack, but you didn’t know if you could be in the same room as Luke without the fear of ruining things coming back.

Since you’d been almost completely ignoring him, Luke knew his only option was to go straight to your place and confront you directly. After a game, he left nearly as soon as media was done, speeding to your place, where he knew you’d be. Because, even though you were ignoring him, he knew you would’ve watched the whole game, your eyes glued to Luke whenever he graced the ice.

The knock at your door at eleven at night sent a worry through your core, but when you saw the curly-headed boy on the other side, the worry subsided before morphing into a different type of fear.

“Can I come in?” Luke asked when you opened the door. He was right about knowing you had watched the game, glancing at the ESPN post-game highlights playing on your TV.

You nodded silently, letting Luke inside. He didn’t sit down, instead standing in the middle of the room, fiddling with the bracelets on his wrists. The sight was all too familiar to when Jack came over a couple of months before. The reminder that you were crushing on your ex's younger brother pounded in your mind, discomfort washing over you.

He noticed the tension in your posture, the way your gaze flickered nervously whenever he tried to meet it. “I… I can’t shake the feeling that something's off between us recently,” Luke said. “Is everything okay?”

Your heart clenched at the concern in his voice. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, putting up a mask of sincerity.

Luke could tell instantly that your vague answer was a lie. The way your arms wrapped tightly around your torso, one that donned his hoodie. “Y/n, if you think I’m believing that, you’re out of your goddamn mind,” Luke said.

You swallowed hard as you looked into his eyes, so full of warmth and genuine care, you found yourself unable to keep up the facade. You let out a sigh, shoulders slumping as you finally admitted, "No, everything's fucked."

His brows furrowed in concern, and he took a small step closer, a silent invitation for you to continue. "Luke, I… I don't know how to say this," you started, your voice trembling slightly. "But being around you lately… it's been… difficult."

Luke’s stomach churned as his fears suddenly came to fruition. He was right; he overstepped and misread your actions. You watched as Luke's expression softened even more, his eyes reflecting a mixture of confusion and concern. "Difficult?" he asked gently.

You took another deep breath, your hands trembling slightly. "I’ve been avoiding you because… I realized… I have feelings for you, Luke. And it scared me. Not just because of Jack and everything with him, but because you’ve been my friend for so long. I didn’t want to mess things up between us."

Luke's posture softened, his concern melting. "Y/n…"

You pressed on, unable to stop the flood of words. "I’m so sorry if this makes things awkward or if it complicates your relationship with Jack. I didn’t want to burden you with my feelings, so I tried to keep them locked away but being around you… God, it got so hard and I couldn’t keep pretending they weren’t there. I’m sorry for everything, I’ve screwed everything up."

You didn’t know when the tears started, but you felt them slide down your cheeks, dripping onto Luke’s hoodie you wore. When you finally finished, you looked at Luke, your heart in your throat. He took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours. “Are you done freaking out now?”

You blinked, taken aback by his calm response. “What?” you croaked out.

Luke smiled, a genuine warmth that reached his eyes. “Y/n, I like you too. Fuck… I’ve liked you for a while now.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, hope mingling with disbelief. “You do?”

As kids, your parents would always tease about the two of you maybe liking each other, which you’d always deny. Quinn would always poke fun at Luke, saying he was in love with you, but you always brushed it off. Cause you were just friends.

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah. I've been… scared, too. Scared of losing what we have, of messing things up. But… I can't ignore how I feel, either.”

Relief and joy flooded through you, mingling with the lingering fear. “So… what now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Luke took a step forward, closing the gap between the two of you, taking your hands in his. “Now, we take things one step at a time. And we’ll talk to Jack when the time is right. We figure this out together.” Luke told you. You felt your heart beat steady, Luke’s calming presence taking over. “But for now, can I kiss you?”

Your heart soared, and you nodded, a smile breaking through your tears. “Please.”

Luke's hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that lingered. He leaned in slowly as you closed your eyes, anticipation fluttering in your stomach. The moment his lips touched yours, a spark ignited between you, sending a rush of warmth through your body.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours. “I've wanted to do that for so long,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Me too,” you admitted, feeling a weight lift off your chest.

Luke pulled you into a gentle hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. The two of you stood there for a moment, just holding each other and savoring the moment. Eventually, you pulled back slightly, looking up at him. "What about Jack? How do we tell him?"

Luke sighed. “We’ll be honest with him. I’m sure he’ll be happy for us... Actually maybe not." Luke said, remembering his brother's words during their spat a couple months back. "But whatever happens, we’ll deal with it together.”

You nodded, Luke’s words allowing your nerves to calm a little. "Okay. Together."

[stxrvel]

the one where i said fuck you and you cried (3)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! a lot of curse words, a lot of self-deprecation and low self esteem. no proofread. this is nawt silly writing, we're diving right into the aNgSt. jumpscare? iykyk a/n. hi guys! this was a rollercoaster for me to write, but i hope it doesn't come as harsh as i think it is. pls let me know what you think in the comments!! see you next week!!

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You had gone through a scenario like that in your head several times. A variety of moments, conversations and looks that always ended in the same unpleasant, inevitable and demoralizing way: you were forgotten by the people you loved most in the world. Only when you reached 18 would you realize how heartbreaking the dull thud of the silence of indifference was, how sharp and icy the loneliness was, how it penetrated and paralyzed your bones; but at that time, at 16, you could still convince yourself that all those things were only in your head and would always be there.

“Now that you're the last to go, you guys are much more likely to forget about me.”

“Of course not! In fact, as soon as I start earning money I'll save up to take you with us.”

Jungkook shook his head, his narrowed eyes judging you as if having insecurities was a sin. You believed his words at that moment, because being the last one still with you, 'cause you were going to graduate from school in the same year, it was the only thing you could do. Hold on to the idea that you really weren't going to be forgotten, because the mere conception of a future without your best friends was inconceivable.

“Jimin-hyung said he was going to try to call more often,” your friend went on, his eyes fixed on the bass on his lap and his important task of leaving it neat before returning it to its holy post in the school's music room. “I haven't talked to them in about three days.”

Jimin and Taehyung had left just a couple of months ago, but thanks to the opportunities opened to them with their incredible willingness, discipline and some string twitching on Namjoon's part, they had managed to get into a great academy to train and fulfill their dreams.

That also brought with it, as irreversible side effects, that your communication with them was drastically reduced. You had to constantly remind yourself and Jungkook that it was out of their control. With their future at stake, there was something for which they had to exert extreme effort and for which to sacrifice some other things.

“It's normal that they don't have as much time as they used to, Kookie.” You lowered your head, noticing the way his hands delicately handled the instrument on his legs. Since Jimin and Taehyung had left there was no time of day when you could tear yourself away from Jungkook, which is why you accompanied him to his extracurricular music lessons when you really should have been studying for the college entrance exam. “Life after school gets really hectic.”

“I've heard that college life is quieter.” Jungkook twisted his lips, wiping between the strings and his fingerprints left on the bass every time he moved it back and forth to clean it. It was an almost irresistible cycle.

“The only one at college right now is Seokjin and even about him we haven't heard much.” You leaned back against the piano, noticing Jungkook's movements pause for a moment as he surely reminisced about the few times he had been able to talk to Jin that month.

It had been two years since Seokjin had graduated and traveled all the way to the capital to study medicine. Needless to say, it was more than clear that communication with Jin would be almost nil from then on, but Jungkook always used to pout about it.

“It's just that Jin-hyung also chose a rather demanding career.” Jungkook twisted his lips, as if suppressing Jin in his head, waving the microfiber towel over the edges of the bass.

“And the others are trying too hard to carve their way through. It can be as complicated as going out to look for a job right after graduating.”

Jungkook nodded, admiring his cleaning job with a frown. He looked so focused that it caught you by surprise when he spoke again.

“You already know if you're going to college, noona? We're graduating this year.”

You blinked once, twice, three times. His nonchalant self went back to waving the towel over nonexistent smudges as you breathed in and decided not to go that route. “Will you?”

Jungkook raised his head, pausing his movements for a moment to try to analyze your gaze. With a sigh, he let out your poorly disguised way of shifting the focus of the conversation to get up and hang the instrument, glowing, on the wall of the music room.

“I don't know yet… Namjoon-hyung says he can help me.”

“Isn't it your dream, why do you doubt it?”

“I'm not sure, noona. What if I don't measure up? What if I fail?”

When your friend turned away, the mirror to his soul showed his vulnerability dancing on the edge of his eyelids. His distrust constricted your heart, a hand closing around your throat at the inner conflicts you knew Jungkook used to have and in the face of which you often couldn't do anything about because he didn't usually share such things.

“Then you try again.”

“Noona…” Jungkook wanted to grumble, it was obvious from the way his eyes moved to the ceiling, his head cocking as if he was about to give you a big life lesson on why you can't survive on motivational phrases.

But Jungkook was a softie about such things, even if he tried to hide it.

“Jungkook, you are literally a golden promise. No process is ever easy, especially in the industry you want to get into, but don't think for a second that you're going to outgrow it. You're one of the most capable people I've ever met.”

Your friend stopped his steps, when after hanging up the bass he was returning to your post in front of you, raising his head as if caught committing a prank. But the vulnerability in his eyes remained, and by the way they shone in the dim light of the room, still blinking to try to contain the emotion, you knew your words had tugged at just that thorn in his heart you were trying to pull out.

“Thank you, noona.”

“I'm just telling the truth.” You lifted a shoulder, shaking your head nonchalantly like it was no big deal, and Jungkook just let out an amused chuckle.

“You do know we'd never forget about you, right? How could we?”

-

“How could we?”

Yuna shook her head, frowning at her phone, oblivious to the way you cringed at her choice of words.

“She's bringing celebrities into the store and she want us to leave? Don't we work so well that we always take the top employee of the month spot even though it should only be held by one person? Don't we deserve that gift?”

You watched her, marveling at how after just a few seconds so many emotions could build up into an overwhelming knot in your chest. The old notes of an old piano played in the back of your head, bringing to the surface memories of when life was easier; when you thought you had it all and nothing would ever be better than that; when you thought you were enough.

“So what do you plan to do about it?” you blinked, focusing on the notation of bills in your notebook with an invisible hand squeezing your heart.

There was no use thinking about such things after so long.

Yuna pursed her lips, her expression serious and forceful. “I think we should have a sit-in.”

“We should? That sounds like more than one person.”

“Do you disagree with me?”

“I'm happy with going home early, especially on a Friday, you know?”

“y/n,” Yuna came up to your face over the cash register display case, her forearms resting on the glass and her eyes so bright with determination you were sure her head could light the whole store on fire the way she was scheming and scheming, running around like her life depended on it, “we could be close to meeting the seven gods of Olympus, and you think the best thing to do is go home?”

“Just in case you forgot, I have a business to run now.” You reminded her, moving to poke her with your middle finger all over her forehead and push her away from the cash register now that a new customer had come in.

“What business should a business matter when you could meet the reason for existence itself?”

Yuna dropped onto the display case, her body sliding like jelly until only her head was left on the glass. You and the new customer watched her, her arms limp at her sides and her gaze lost. A lone tear running down the bridge of her nose.

“God, you're so dramatic.”

“Does that mean yes?” Her head snapped up like a spring, a big smile scaring the soul out of the customer who ducked behind your friend to run for their order.

“No and stop acting like that, you're going to scare away customers.”

Yuna whined, her exaggerated tantrum leading you to wiggle your feet all the way to the cellar.

“I'm offering you the holy grail, and this is how you pay me?”

The sound of her feet shuffling behind you kept your head sane. Even though his insinuations were baseless, your heart was pounding so hard you felt your ribs throbbing through your muscles and skin.

Your boss had written to Yuna that you two could leave the store early today because she had a private meeting to attend. She asked them to leave everything to Patrick, including clearing the store of customers and not to worry about paying for the shift, because there would be no discount at the end of the month. Yuna was faithfully and blindly convinced that your boss really wanted you to stay, because she spent almost ten minutes with her eyes glued to the screen almost without blinking, watching the 'typing…' appear and disappear under your boss's contact name. 'I'm sure she's debating how much confidence she has in us…', she said as her red eyes missed no detail of that important chat and that primordial moment, ending in an offended 'none!' when her last message came through.

In the same way, Yuna convinced herself that the meeting that would take place in the same place where your feet were planted was going to be attended by the seven entertainment kings of the country. The unmentionables, for all practical purposes. Where had she come to that conclusion? There was no foundation. Had your boss given any hints? None. Yuna had her head in the clouds believing she could meet her idols if she insisted a little longer.

“Would you really prefer to stand your friend up to meet seven men you don't even know for sure will show up here?”

“Well…if you put it that way it sounds like I'm doing something wrong.”

“Mmm, you just figured that out?”

Yuna dropped her shoulders as you took off your apron. Her tactics weren't going to work and it was time to give up. She half-heartedly opened her locker and stood looking at you with puppy dog eyes. You felt as guilty as if you had stepped on her tail by accident.

“Look, if I'm being honest, I doubt gigantically that Sol will tell you that you can stay if you ask her.”

“Not even for everything we've been through together?”

“She's still our boss, Yuna.”

Your friend mimicked your actions with a slower speed, her emotion draining away little by little. When her head cocked to the side, halfway through taking off her apron, you only sighed.

“The worst that can happen is I get fired, right?”

You weren't surprised that she was nevertheless willing to cross that line.

“That doesn't sound like much to you?”

“I can always write her a 'ha, ha, just joking' afterwards and get out of harm's way.”

You didn't contain the irresistible urge to roll your eyes and Yuna took that as her own signal or green light. Next thing you knew she was pulling out her phone and typing animatedly on the screen.

“I really don't think you should do that.”

“I have to try! Can I call myself a good fan if I don't do even the impossible?”

“You don't even know if they'll come.”

“I have a hunch.”

With her hand over her heart, Yuna sent the message and you feared for her life. While Sol was not at all close to the idea and conceptualization of a crazy and ruthlessly demanding boss, she did draw the line at several specific situations that they had both learned to respect. One of those was, of course, private meetings at her place. You and Yuna had set up the place countless times for Sol to sit quietly and chat with her most famous acquaintances, because her office was too formal to deal with them there, but her own home was extremely informal for the same purpose. The cafeteria served as a middle ground, the perfect place to be comfortable when talking business.

“Patrick is coming.” Yuna spoke again and by the way her eyes didn't leave the screen you could tell Sol hadn't responded yet.

“I wish you the best of luck, Yuna.”

“Thank you! Coming from you it's a blessing, indeed.”

“And why's that?”

You finally stood up, closing your locker with your strap bag over your right shoulder. You were ready to leave while your friend was still biting her index fingernail waiting for an almost impossible and inconceivable message from her boss.

“What else can I expect from the writer who blew up overnight and is soon going to be one of the New York Times bestsellers and famous worldwide?”

“Ah,” you turned your head, unable to contain inwardly the way a warmth settled in your chest; you still had a hard time accepting how things had turned out, but as long as you couldn't control the influx of orders that had to take a back seat, “smooth.”

Yuna smiled and when her eyes met yours you swore she was about to tell you one more time how proud she was of you, but her phone vibrated in her hands and the last thing you saw her eyes widen exaggeratedly before her scream shook the foundations of the store and almost the entire city.

“SHE SAID YES!!!!”

-

Arriving home unleashed immeasurable chaos.

As soon as you opened the front door, a river of books fell like dominoes, with your father's groans and your mother's screams in the background, the sound of your work echoing in your head like lightning as stomping echoed through the house.

“Seojun, I told you to be careful walking…!”The angry expression on your mother's face disappeared the moment she recognized your face, her features softening as she knew it was her daughter. “Honey. What are you doing here so early?”

“Is that y/n?” your dad's exclamation rang out from the kitchen.

“Yes!” your mom yelled back.

The welcome was nice, but things only got more and more tedious from then on. On the one hand, you had your father telling you about accounts, numbers and multiplications of how much you had to take out of your pocket to pay for the prints, how much you would make if you sold all the books you had printed and how much you would get back, and on the other hand you had your mother telling you about the countless publishers who had written to your dm's seeking to sponsor the sale of your books, taking advantage of the boom that had been generated by the phenomenon that was Kim Taehyung.

Seojun, who had decided to move back home for the weekend to help with whatever was needed, was telling you that they had had to hire five different deliverymen -three of them trucks- to be able to deliver as many orders a day as possible, while vehemently hitting your father's forearm to remind him to include that in the accounts.

Your father was in charge of everything related to money, your mother of the direct communication with customers and Seojun of the orders; everything was done by them, with Yuna's help when she was not working, with the excuse that after so many years you just had to sit down and enjoy the fruit of your sowing without any worries.

But at that moment, when they had just let go and thrown all their worries at your feet, they stared at you expectantly.

"We need a loan."

Your mother jumped in her chair. "That's what I said!"

"That's not necessary." Your father shook his head, as he surely would have done when your mother suggested the idea judging by the expression that had planted itself on her face. "Take a loan from my wallet, but don't do business with those bankers. They'll gouge your eyes out with interest."

"Or take a publisher's offer. They'll take care of all this." Seojun pointed out, his long black hair brushing his eyebrows even though he shook it nonchalantly so he could get a good look at the three of them.

"Publishers can be freeloaders too." Your mother counter-argued, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, yeah? How many publishers have you signed on with to assert that?"

"Wow, careful with that tone, Mr. Lawyer." Your father pointed at your brother, while your mother only raised an eyebrow at him in response. Seojun sank into the chair, barely dragging an apology through his teeth.

"It's not a bad idea either, Dad."

His brown eyes returned to meet your gaze and you noticed the hesitation in them.

"Well, ultimately, it's your decision, honey."

Your mother squeezed your shoulder.

"I say we should listen to the lawyer."

"Hey!" Seojun frowned, straightening up on the chair. "Don't put such a big responsibility on me!"

Your father snorted. "But then weren't you comfortable a while ago giving orders and saying that I don't know what thing you had already seen it in class and that's why you knew what we had to do?"

"Dad…" Seojun elongated.

"Are you ready for such a position or not, Seojun? Tell me to start looking for another lawyer."

Your mother barely contained her laughter, only because of the offended sideways glance her own son sent her way. Laughter blossomed in your chest, too, like a big breath of fresh air in a field of flowers. You didn't know you needed that moment so badly until the tension disappeared from your shoulders as you laughed with your parents and your brother grumbled with his arms crossed.

-

A new batch of orders just went out - thank you so much for your purchases!

You looked at the story your mom had uploaded to Instagram in the solitude of your bedroom. The rest of the day was spent strategizing and planning marketing ideas that would likely lead you to ruin. In a defeated silence, you admitted that Yuna was really needed.

You had texted your friend a while ago, as the sunset was beginning to paint the sky with colors, but she still hadn't even checked her phone. Her last connection was a few minutes after you left at noon. You decided not to insist, even though you were a little curious about who had finally shown up at the store.

The best thing about that busy rest of the afternoon was that you'd been able to keep yourself busy enough to completely ignore the way you'd been whipped up by a few memories that morning in Yuna's company. A simple question had caused all that. And of course, with a heart as weak as a chick's and willpower almost non-existent, you let yourself be pulled right in that moment of loneliness into the well of memories.

“Jungkookie?”

Your voice pierced the silence and a shiver ran through your body as the darkness greeted you back. A few minutes passed after you plunged into the completely darkened room, walking tentatively and slowly inside, you heard a movement just outside the door you had just entered.

“Noona…”

You couldn't see him, but you didn't need to. The sobs that filled the room were enough to be able to guide you through that darkness, as indistinguishable as coal, and wrap your arms around his hunched figure on the floor beside the door.

The house was alone and as dark as that room the last night Jungkook would be there. Passing through the empty corridors of his house was a torment, but you could only imagine how your friend would feel in his place, unable to stop time as it slipped through his fingers.

Several times he had already told you that he didn't want to leave. You didn't think he meant it.

“They're waiting for you downstairs.”

“I know. I don't want to go, noona.” Jungkook moved his arms to wrap around your waist in a desperate grip, his erratic breathing against your neck breaking your heart. “I want to stay. It doesn't matter if I never become an idol. That's not important.”

“Jungkook…”

“I don't want to leave you…”

His halting voice was barely understandable, trying to be muffled by the jacket you were wearing that night when you went to see him off and didn't find him in the car with his parents. The heater seemed not to be a worthy opponent for that cold night.

“Jungkook, you're not going to leave me. We'll keep in touch. Why do you worry so much?”

“I don't want to be like them,” his pained voice pierced your chest; the movement of his body from the way the sobs were attacking him was almost uncontainable. “I don't want this distance.”

“Change is always hard, Jungkookie, but I promise you we'll be in touch always. I'll do my best to make it so.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I'll even come visit you as soon as I can.”

“No. I said I was going to pay for your trip.”

“See? You're not going to leave me.”

“Still I'm scared, noona. What if I'm not enough for them? What if I can't raise enough for you to come live with us?”

“You are enough, Jungkook. From the tips of your fingers to the tips of your hair, there's nothing about you that won't allow you to achieve your dreams, understand? You are destined to be a star. I know it's hard to leave behind everything you know in life, but believe me it will all be worth it. You will come out on top and you will succeed.”

“Noona…” Jungkook cried again, burying his face in your neck once more, clinging to you like the anchor that carried him to the surface of the ocean; the ocean shaped by his own tears. “I… don't… want… to… go…”

The hiccups that attacked him from his intense crying made it difficult for him to speak and you hadn't felt such pain even when the other boys left. There were tears shared, promises whispered and hugs that lasted longer than they should have, but no one had clung to your body as if they feared you were going to disappear at any moment and wanted to seize every second before the impending end.

“It's okay, Jungkookie,” you ran your hands up and down his back trying to calm his crying, trying to control your own as treacherous tears rolled down your cheeks with the darkness as your witness. “We'll meet again. You can wait for me. Then we can melt into another embrace and say how much we miss each other.”

Your phone vibrated on the bed, the notification startling you with its aggressiveness. Another vibration followed that one and then another. Turning on the screen, you found that half an hour had passed since you'd last seen the clock, and in passing you came across Yuna's name on the caller ID. You sighed, remembering the effusiveness with which she said goodbye in the afternoon and mentally preparing yourself for what was to come.

"Hey," you greeted, mildly surprised that her exclamations hadn't reached your ear first to interrupt your greeting.

"y/n, how were sales today?" her calm voice filled your hearing and a slight wrinkle implanted itself between your brows.

"Mmm, it was all good. We have several domiciliary and the prints are coming out with the deadlines arranged. With Seojun we considered that maybe taking on a publisher wouldn't be so bad, but I'm not sure yet."

You narrowed your eyes at the ceiling, shallowly biting your nails, waiting for the moment when Yuna would burst out, but it didn't come.

"Oh, yeah. We'll have to consider that. I'll go early tomorrow morning to seize the day." Yuna answered quietly, with the faint sound of things stirring in the background of the call. Surely she had just arrived at her apartment.

"Yuna?"

"Mhm?"

"How was the afternoon?"

"Oh, it was normal, really," she replied, her voice flat, as if the thought had barely crossed her mind since the moment she'd left the coffee shop. "I didn't see anyone memorable."

"Ah, so your knights in shining armor didn't attend?"

"Sadly, no." Yuna sighed, her unchanging attitude finding a little more sense in your head. She sounded more tired than anything.

You talked a bit more with Yuna before she excused herself to go about her evening routine and finally get some rest, specifically stressing to you how boring the whole afternoon had been and how every second she only thought about going home. You also told her a bit more about the ideas you and your father had half-heartedly spun as marketing strategies, but very earnestly your friend asked you not to do anything until she was there.

When her name disappeared from your caller ID, an Instagram notification popped up at the top of your home screen. The vibration felt like the pounding of a sledgehammer against wood, your sentence handed down with no chance of appeal, the blood in your veins freezing and an endless emptiness in the pit of your stomach.

jeonjungkook97 just followed you!

It was followed by the notification of a message from Yuna.

Unnie | 19:01 holy shit. jungkook just followed you on ig, right?

No fucking way. Another fucking account to block.

-

It wasn't like you couldn't deal with them. You had been doing it for about ten years. But now they just seemed to want to throw themselves in front of your face one by one and you weren't strong enough to handle that. Maybe your resolve needed to be more forceful; maybe you should be sure you hated them instead of feeling like your body was shaking and you could melt like jelly in the sun every time you felt they were one step closer to you. For a while, that was all you wanted; to find them; to be found. But now…?

The weekend was spent in a hodgepodge of managing your book sales and the seesaw of emotions you had in the face of the estranged but impactful actions of your old friends. You tried not to think about it too much; you really tried, but it was very difficult. It was easier to let the memories wash over you instead of diligently packing up the books on which you had squandered your blood and tears.

Your books, yes, that was the most important thing.

From the posts and hashtags, even though it had only been a couple of days, you could see that some people -those who had actually read the books- were already posting their opinions and reviews and you knew you had had plenty of time to prepare for that moment, but you really weren't ready to face it. You didn't know what it was; whether it was the pollen, the aligned planets, PMS, mercury retrograde… but all of those things were weighing you down too much recently and you weren't ready to hear the opinions.

And you couldn't help but keep asking yourself why? Having spent so much time, between so many experiences and so many personal changes, why now they decided that they would come back into your life? How dare they after ruining your life by completely abandoning you? Many times you wondered what was missing in you; what was never enough for them… sometimes you believed that this was how it was meant to be; just the seven of them, before you came along. It was always them seven first, then you.

Between lows and highs, between sadness and joy, you still had to keep working.

"Get rid of that face if you're not going to tell me what's wrong with you." Yuna crossed the cafeteria in front of you, picking up some glasses and plates on the table as lunchtime approached.

"I don't have any face."

"You've been in a somber mood since Saturday. You look dead."

You clicked your tongue, taking advantage of the fact that the store was nearly empty to do the math. "Don't be over the top."

"I'm just being honest and genuinely concerned about my friend, can you blame me?" Yuna reached the sink and simply left the dishes there to approach the cash register. Your eyes refused to meet hers, unsheathing a strange annoyance in the pit of your stomach.

"I'm fine," you moved the money automatically, doing the math in the back of your head as second nature, "don't worry so much."

"Ok, if you don't want to tell me about it at least try to distract yourself a little, why don't you take an extra half hour for lunch?"

"You know I can't do that."

"Sol would never know."

"I'm not going to do that."

Yuna pouted, dropping her chin onto the back of her hand. You knew she was about to fly you out of that chair the moment all the bills were safeguarded.

A whiplash of pain shot through your chest at the alternative of having to leave the cafeteria, alone, hovering with your thoughts once again, as you tried to shove the food down your throat. But Yuna happily dragged you out of the cafeteria, leaving you in the middle of the street with your little bag and lunch money, wishing you a happy break as she wandered off once more to deal with the sparse crowd of customers alone.

Maybe you should have told her you'd rather not eat than be alone, but…

That was the story of your life.

So you walked to that restaurant a couple of blocks away, where they sold the cheapest food in the area, and waited patiently while answering Yuna's messages to clear your mind.

Going through your social networks, you once again came across the cover of your books in the pre-viewing of a video and felt the bile in your throat. Let's see, you were happy. Or well, you were trying to convince yourself because you still had that bitter feeling in the pit of your stomach that wouldn't let you enjoy this blast like you should and it had a first and last name of its own. But, generally speaking, it was great that your books were selling, forgetting all the other circumstances that led to that happening.

So, standing in front of those videos, you were tormented by not being able to watch them. A self-published author should be prepared for that kind of thing. No, any author should be. Sharing your art with the world implicitly entailed confronting the world's expression in front of it. It was inevitable, of course, and it was also the energy that could start an engine or the fingers that put out the match. At that precise moment, you still didn't want to know what your destiny was.

You hated that. You hated feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. Why was life so heavy if you had just begun to live it?

Ah, too much pondering for one lunch.

And to think this all started with an Instagram story.

Having an existential crisis because you couldn't stand dealing with the stress and pressure of the extreme demand you were having and because of mixed feelings for a bunch of idiots resurfacing after so many years was one of the last things you thought you'd have to go through that year. Fuck, or ever in your entire life.

Taehyung might have done you a favor as well as a disservice.

But that's how you spent a while longer, as you walked back to the coffee shop, the noise of the city not being enough to quell the bustle of thoughts crashing against each other in your head.

Being in the eye of the hurricane, however, didn't mean you were safe. You barely had a breath of fresh air before the eyewall hit you hard once again.

"Noona…?"

You froze a few steps away from the cafeteria. You feared not only the way you immediately recognized the voice, but the way your body froze, fear, panic and uncertainty clouding your sense.

You were in the alley behind the coffee shop. You didn't usually go in that way, but you had taken a slightly longer way back, only because you were too busy thinking about whether or not your body was up to a longer walk.

You were so close to the door that you could almost hear Yuna's voice on the other side, barely muffled by the beeping that echoed in your ears as panic took over your body.

You didn't want to turn around. Your body was having every possible negative reaction, as if it was fighting an infection, the lunch you had just shoved down your throat seeking to make its way back into your mouth and the feeling of dizziness momentarily clouded you.

Was this how you planned to react if you ever saw them again? Was this how you acted out the scenarios you imagined in your head at night when your memories went back to the last time you saw them?

The only difference between those imaginings and what was happening at that moment was that before you could prepare yourself; you knew what was coming; you had control. Now? Your legs were about to give out, the weight of your body too much to bear.

And you wanted to mock the pathetic behavior you were engaging in. You should turn around, slap him and scream at him that you never wanted to see him again. But your heart was beating and feeling and… how could you deny it anything after so many years of being neglected?

But maybe you were imagining it. The little sleep you had this weekend and all the memories you dragged from the trunk since you saw that Instagram notification must have made you crazy enough that you heard voices, his voice, anywhere… you were still near a busy street, it could be anyone-

"y/n."

And, yet…

You didn't turn around knowing what it would entail to give his voice a face, even though you could madly and frankly recall every line of its length, and you spoke harshly through your teeth even though your labored breathing made your chest heave.

"What are you doing here?"

"Noona… you're really here."

You cringed as you heard his footsteps and clutched with inhuman speed at the lock on the door in front of you.

"I asked you a fucking question: what the fuck do you think you're doing here?"

The silence didn't give you an answer, but you could glimpse it. With your patience on edge and years of emotional repression it was impossible for you to deduce how you would react in such a case, but it didn't seem too far-fetched, even if Jungkook's surprised inspiration said he didn't expect you to be so harsh and rude.

As if you cared.

—Yes you did care, in fact, that's why your heart was beating wildly against your ribs, the choking sensation increasing, the nerves on edge and the tears all over the corners of your eyes, but you had to stand your ground. After so, so long… why, why, why, why?—

"I… I…" Jungkook seemed to be having trouble finding his voice, even though in his profession the words came melodiously and easily out of his mouth. If you turned to look at him, you might have noticed that his face went from happiness to anguish with the speed a bullet goes through a field, "I wanted to see you…"

He sounded so small. The five-foot-ten-plus man, who you're sure was almost a head and a half taller than you, might as well have been a badly wounded puppy behind you. You knew from the way he spoke that he was holding back tears, but you didn't let that sway you. He didn't deserve it.

"Who gave you the right to come here?"

You didn't let him answer, not knowing if he was even going to, tightening the lock on the door you were about to walk through at any moment, bile in your throat making you fear the fall as if you were at the top of a skyscraper.

"How the fuck did you even find me?"

"Well, I-"

"I don't fucking want to know!"

You cut him off, the dryness and venom in your voice making you tremble. You were so sad, so distraught and so angry at the same time.

"And I don't want to see you. So leave."

"Noona…"

"Fucking leave, Jeon, for fuck's sake!"

You moved, almost as if by inertia, opening the door and slamming it behind you, the noise so deafening that it echoed in your ears for several seconds until you heard Yuna's footsteps approaching you and felt her arms wrap around your body.

You didn't know what she was saying, you just leaned against the door and let yourself fall, your body shaking in cry after uncontrollable cry, truly wondering how everything had gone so far; wondering how, after so many years, you still allowed them to have that power over you; a power they didn't deserve and shouldn't have.

You felt shattered in that moment, every piece of you scattered in the hold, every moment of your life replaying on its glassy, sharp edges. Even with half of you staying afloat, Yuna held you until the tears stopped flowing and with renewed resolve you promised yourself that this was never going to happen again.

Jungkook had taken you by surprise, but from now on none of them would ever catch you off guard.

-

a/n: i dont really know what to think about this chap. sometimes i like it sometimes i dont. i guess thats just how it works. pls letme know what you think! thank u for all the support! <3

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592 @yoongznme @queenbloody @leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison

[futurepastme]

SecretConsort!merlin

I had this fic idea before falling asleep, I don't know if anything like this already exists (probably). Be warned that I didn't revise this once.

First of all Arthur and Merlin absolutely love each other, but they start off as friends with benefits. Until one day Arthur can't handle anymore

“Say you're mine. Say you'll be mine and no one else's”

“I'll be yours as long as you're also mine”

And yeah, they go exclusive after that (they already were but now was official) and give them a few months or years, but eventually Merlin becomes Arthur's secret consort and they are officially official, mother's sigil and all, because like I said, they Love each other.

Anyways, eventually Uther finds out they are together and he gets tomato-red furious, and only calms down when Arthur agrees to marry for political reasons, whomever Uther chooses for him.

The thing is, Uther kind of learns to like them as a couple, not that they go all out and about telling the world, because is still supposed to be a secret, but Uther sees the sweet glances and the smiles, and most of all he sees how willingly they are to die for each other and it just sits right with him. Uther thinks Merlin makes a good consort for his son and is in no hurry to marry him off anymore.

But of course, nothing really stays the same, and the day comes where the only way Uther finds to keep peace with another kingdom is to marry Arrhur off to some other king's daughter, and he hates it because he knows and he approves of his relationship with the skinny boy that makes his son so happy.

And then comes the heartbreaking scene of Arthur telling Merlin the news and the even more heartbreaking scene before Arthur's wedding day

“I won't be able to be only yours anymore”

“Maybe not, but I'll always be yours”

And they cry through the night holding each other tightly as if the world were to end, because it just might.

And the next day, Uther can freaking see it 

They are both behaving, no one is causing a scene but from up close you can notice how bloodshot their eyes are. And he can see it in the way they refuse to make eye contact, he can see it as he sees Merlin silently crying as Arthur shows the crowd their future queen.

And Uther hates it.

And is not like the new princess is a horrible person but she just doesn't like Merlin, she doesn't want to share her husband. She makes Merlin leave Arthur's Chambers and forbids him to follow Arthur all day unnecessarily, but she knows she can't win.

Not when the King himself gives Merlin royal chambers on the same floor as theirs, and especially not when Arthur doesn't spend the night on his.

Arthur has duties, though. Husband duties. And he has to fulfill them and it kills Merlin.

And Uther can just watch helplessly as Merlin's gaze follows Arthur and his wife and he stays behind as the servant he is supposed to be and is so unfair because she doesn't even love Arthur 

And they keep growing apart but keep fighting for each other because they are fucking made to be together so they still try even if the best they can do for days is hold each other for a few minutes just breathing each other in because that's home and that's where they are meant to be

It continues for a while until one day comes where Arthur goes out without Merlin

And at the same time while he is away, his wife finds herself with child, and everyone's so happy and Merlin just has to leave for a while because he can't handle it

But again, things never go as planned and the knights return with Arthur's body, because something went wrong 

And you can honestly choose what it was, a curse, a spell, bandits, a boar, a mercenary, it doesn't matter because Arthur is dead now and Merlin wasn't there to save him

And now Uther has to deal not only with the death of his only son, and with his widow wife with child but he'll be the one to tell his consort and is so devastating 

Merlin's face turns from sad to haunting and it's like the world ended and Uther can see himself in him, he can see the death of his love weighting on Merlin the way it weighed on him, if not worse

Arthur's body stays inside the castle for two days before the burial so the people of the castle can say their goodbyes and no one has seen Merlin, they are not even sure he went to see Arthur 

And everyone is concerned about the poor widow all dressed in black, she is sad, sure, but the tears rolling from her eyes are just for show, Arthur was barely a friend, but he was good to her

Arthur's body is being prepared for removal, overseen by his family and close friends before the public ceremony took place, and that's when it happens 

Merlin just barges in and stops everything. 

He's spent two days working in it, and he just doesn't care anymore, as long as it works

And Uther once again just watches as this skinny boy fills the room with golden light, and he can't even care to do anything because honestly he would do everything for his love if he could 

And everyone watches as the light coming from Merlin starts being absorbed by Arthur through his chest and is so beautiful to watch

Arthur starts to sit up as Merlin lowers down and they just have a moment, a small second where they are both there and Merlin just rests his head against Arthur's 

“I would do it again. I would do it as many times as needed because I love you and you are my everything”

“Merlin?”

And then the light is gone, and so is Merlin 

And Uther watched as his widowed son holds his lover's body, just like he did over twenty years ago

[tsukimefuku]

the letter ꕥ higuruma hiromi

summary: reader writes a letter for an absentee. one that she will never send.

tags: f!reader, implied past relationship, higuruma x reader, angst, break up, longing and general heartbreak.

wc: 1k

notes etc.: this is actually my original style of writing in my native language before i began writing in 2nd(?) + 3rd person pov on ao3 and tumblr this year. it’s different from what I’ve written so far, but I hope you guys enjoy it. the style translation was hard, holy shirt. song → shake it out (florence + the machine).

ꕥ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

i like to keep my issues drawn ꕥ it’s always darkest before the dawn

I was debating if I should start this with “hey, Hiromi”, “hi, Higuruma”, “dear” something, and I still haven’t arrived at an answer. The first sounds too casual for what we have become — and what are we now if not strangers? The second, however, is just too impersonal, and I don’t need such a stinging reminder of how much I’m not entitled to your first name anymore. At last, “dear” to start a letter is just tacky.

Alas, I digress.

I don’t quite know what possessed me to pick up a pen and a piece of paper (analogical, just like you’ve noted me to be) to blurt out the swirling hurts in my mind, but I guess I still had a lot to say, even if you weren’t here long enough to hear it.

Here goes nothing.

You might be wondering how I’m doing (at least I hope so), so I thought I’d let you know.

Tonight, more specifically, I’ve been for an insurmountable stretch of time — were it hours? Minutes? Days? Out of my priorities, tracking time has not been one of them — staring at the empty vacuum making its presence known by my side. It seems to mock my stare, that longs, against all odds, for a miracle — for you to simply materialize right there, out of thin air.

Seriously, you should see the mess you’ve made when you left.

You left an emptiness of shoes, black suits, wet towels on the bed, cup marks on the furniture, scratches of morning beard, warm legs under the covers — an emptiness of body that has been giving me nightmares. You came in, flipped everything upside down, blew up my walls and made so that every edge, vertex, color and smell of this heart and bones surrounding our leftover life would incessantly scream for you.

It’s like my misery extended beyond myself and resoundingly expanded against the walls of this house.

But… even though I wish you were here with every tiny part of myself, I couldn’t ask for you to stay. I know it wouldn’t be fair. You’d never ask me to betray myself, and the least I could do was to love you in the same earnest way. 

You wouldn’t be the man I loved if you didn’t go. I wouldn’t be the person you loved if I asked you not to (I apologize for the past tense, it’s one of those truthless comforts I’ve decided to give myself for the time being).

You still linger here, though. I still keep your gaze close to my chest, your face pressed against my skin, your warm voice caressing the edge of my ear and your hair stroking through my fingers, even if it’s just my soul pretending for a minute.

A long minute.

You know, it has been hell without you here. The couch cushions wrap around me like your arms, the bed always bounces by the time you used to get up, and the kitchen smells like your favorite take-out meals (because God knows we’d set fire to this building if we so much as dared turning that stove top on). The window reflects two back at me when only one is looking at it, and my hiking boots are dearly missing those black oxford shoes. My coat hanging on the edge of the closet is also dearly missing your crumpled black ties sprinkled around the room (of course you took weeks to properly wash and organize them — when you ever did).

Oh, and the bed.

The bed is just not the same without that stupid, ridiculous blotch of water your towel would always leave on it.

A huge chunk of our house is missing.

I know I can’t let my selfishness kidnap you from what you need to do — and I do know you need it. But damn, sometimes it’s hard to fight the urge of hopping on the first train your way, grabbing you by your wrist and asking you to become once again part of my wallpaper, my duvet, my pillows. Just promise me you’ll make all of this pain worthwhile, even if you ran away with ten thirds of me.

Ever since you left, though, I learned a few tricks to mask your ever so present absence. I can pull the pillows towards the middle of the bed, eat in the living room and read in the kitchen, being sure to slowly put all my pieces back in place. 

It’s harder to notice an empty chair across the table when you willingly choose to sit on the ground.

However, I didn’t want to do that. Not today. Call it insanity, clarity, or just meet me in my madness like you always so kindly did.

Today, I wanted to let you invade me, come into my house with my full permission and go on turning everything upside down once more. That way, I can almost feel you there. To me, at least for now, that’s good enough (or as good as I know it’s gonna get).

Your muted way of sharing our space could be so, so silent. That quietude brought me the deepest of peaces.

Unfortunately, I never anticipated the silence from your absence would be so loud, and not peaceful at all. It has been hammering at my breathless heart for days. 

I miss you.

I love you, too.

***

With a sigh, you put the pen down and stared at the paper sheet for a minute, your own calligraphy so foreign with a pain you hadn’t let out properly ever since Hiromi… actually, Higuruma stepped out that morning.

Considering your options, you resigned, and pulled the letter in a crinkled messy ball, tossing it in the garbage can.

No need to talk to a voluntary absentee. No need to bother him, either.

You got yourself back up and picked up two pairs of keys, the blue buttoned shirt and made your way out of the apartment, not failing to hear the rumbling echo the door made when it slammed closed.

An echo that only happens in truly empty places.

[audiblehush]

“Let Down” doesn’t even BEGIN to cover it.

Part 1 was pretty phenomenal setup. Perfect? No, but really good in terms of how they were approaching their characters in all their complexities and contradictions.

Part 2 threw ALL of that in the trash. I feel like I can’t even really articulate all my complaints about it right now; it’s too raw. These characters became cardboard cutouts of themselves and I’m just like… how could they fumble the ball so badly?

I have been saying for AGES that the latest Part 2 could get away with Colin finding out about LW was the beginning of ep. 6. That would allow him an ENTIRE episode for him to work through his anger and heartbreak AND for Penelope to fight toward earning his trust back (idk, like the episode name IMPLIES?! “Romancing Mr. Bridgerton” … where?! Where was the romancing?!).

Instead we have him finding out AT the start of fucking episode 7, with the most manufactured drama “will she won’t she” lead-up EVER. And then they’re not speaking for the majority of the FINAL two episodes while I fast forward through Ben’s threesomes trying to find more non-existent Polin?!

We were told it was going to be “Polin against the world” in episodes 7 and 8 and we got NONE of that?? I had no problem with Colin being angry, but the TIMING and PACING of it was always going to be critical and they fucked up big time. We got ONE real Polin sex scene BEFORE Colin knew about LW. I was willing to excuse that if the writing made up for it later but yeah… that’s not what happened. The level of betrayal is unreal.

They spent all this time giving Cressida a sympathetic backstory to just… ship her off? To show the similarities in her home life to Pen only to… do nothing with it? A chance for Pen to “use her quill responsibly” and she doesn’t because nope, gotta shift to one of MILLION plots that are in the air! So many possibilities they could have employed there with Pen and Cressida but NOPE - ship her off to a controlling aunt!

They did NOTHING for Colin aside from a few lines about him working on a manuscript? That’s it?! We don’t even REALLY get him sitting down and talking with Penelope about LW and her reasons, his own insecurities… we just get like, a brief line about it in the last episode? We didn’t get him (OR Pen) calling out his family for the way they often treat him as an afterthought?! JUSTICE FOR COLIN.

And to have Pen still writing LW at the end? To have her keep the coping mechanism that she developed out of the result of an ugly home life? (that makes no sense even because logistically it only worked with her IN THE SHADOWS). When you could have made her a novelist? You just immediately hand-wave the column and make her a baby making machine?!

No fucking thanks.

The writing let Pen, Colin, Cressida, and Eloise ALL down.

The writing in part 2 just didn’t respect these characters of their journeys. That was always going to be a death blow, based on all the comments actors have made… I have to imagine so much of this season ended up on the editing room floor… because part 2 was a DISASTER. I guess this is what fanfic is for, but to barely have my babies together in THEIR SEASON growing into their own and together? It just breaks my heart.

Nicola and Luke deserved better.

Pen and Colin deserved better.

[gyutopia]

bad habits | sim jaeyun + yang jungwon

ꕤ DESCRIPTION: Sim Jaeyun will always have a part of your heart; he was the first man you ever loved and the first man to ever break your heart. Yang Jungwon however, was the first man to ever sacrifice for you and your happiness. Now that you have Jake, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve made a catastrophic mistake.

❥ PAIRING: boyfriend!jake x f!reader & situationship!jungwon

❥ GENRE: slice of life!au, college!au

❥ WORD COUNT: 17.6k

⟶ WARNINGS: soft dom!jake, sub!reader, oral (f!receiving), p in v intercourse, underaged drinking, swearing, possessive!jungwon, mentions of sobriety, heartbreak, mentions of smoking and drugs, cheating (?), let me know if i missed anything !

ꕤ A/N: this is the continuation of overpass graffiti…can you tell i’m an ed sheeran lover? :)

“Am I doing something wrong?” Jake asks as he lifts his head from your core.

It’s currently around three in the morning, you woke up a few minutes ago unable to find any peace in your dreams and after constantly tossing and turning, you accidentally woke up Jake who tried luring you back to sleep with a kiss which quickly escalated to heavily making out and him making his way down south.

You whine, tugging at his hair and encourage him to continue. “What makes you think you could possibly be doing something wrong?”

“You look like you’d prefer to be anywhere else.” Rather than continuing like you had told him to, Jake lets one finger graze the length of your pussy, teasing your entrance slowly to try and turn you on again after realizing you were no longer wet. “What are you thinking of, love?”

Your thoughts instantly fly back to what has been plaguing your mind for the past four days and you immediately push his hands away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Jake watches you fix your pajamas which consist of his oversized shirt and boxers before pulling the sheets over your body. He follows after you, waiting for an explanation. When you say nothing, he speaks up.

“Hey, no more secrets, remember?”

He slides an arm around your waist and pulls you in closer to his body. You inhale deeply at the reminder of your words. You sigh, chewing on your lip as you try to form a sentence without possibly upsetting him.

“I know it’s just…” You trail off and try to think through your emotions. You want to be upfront with him and let him know what you’re truly thinking and feeling but you barely know how to process it yourself let alone let someone else know what’s going on in your mind.

“I don’t know how to put it into words yet.”

“If you’re not ready to talk about it,” He pulls back to offer you a lopsided smile and places a kiss on your cheek, “It’s fine. Tell me whenever you are.”

Hesitantly, you nod; kissing his cheek before turning around and letting him spoon you. As you feel him drift into sleep, the weight of his arm slumping completely over your waist, your thoughts fly back to four nights ago, when your life seemingly took a drastic turn.

After Jake professed his love to you in the rain on Newbury street, the two of you took an uber back to his dorm to dry off and talk about the logistics of your relationship. It completely slipped your mind to tell your friends where you had disappeared off to and it didn’t help that your phone had died on the way to your destination.

You were once again so wrapped up in Sim Jaeyun that you were throwing caution to the wind and yet again placing him above yourself and others in your life. It wasn’t until six hours after you had arrived at his did you bother to charge your phone. Once the device turned on, the text messages came swarming in.

[November 18th, 2:17 PM]

[jungwon]: are you on your way?

[jungwon]: the rain is coming down hard i can meet you halfway if you want. i brought an extra umbrella just in case ^-^

[November 18th, 3:27 PM]

[jungwon]: y/n? i’m getting concerned it’s pouring

[jungwon]: are you okay?

[November 18th, 5:45 PM]

[jungwon]: avi told me about jake

[jungwon]: seriously y/n? you went back to that jerk??

[November 18th, 5:48 PM]

[avi]: you just couldn’t help yourself huh?

[avi]: i hope jake was worth it lol

[November 18th, 5:50 PM]

[beomgyu]: :/

[beomgyu]: the least you could do is respond to jungwons texts.

[November 18th, 6:53 PM]

[avi]: do you plan on ignoring all of us?

[avi]: at least let us know you’re okay.

[November 18th, 6:55 PM]

[jungwon]: i’m sorry for getting mad earlier but please let me know you’re okay y/n

[jungwon]: i’m worried.

[jungwon]: we don’t have to talk about jake just pls let me know where you are

[November 18th, 6:59 PM]

[avi to-toilet texters]: i’m done with the private messages

[avi to-toilet texters]: where are you y/n this isn’t funny.

[beomgyu to-toilet texters]: we’re not mad we just want to make sure you’re okay

[November 18th, 7:39 PM]

[avi to-toilet texters]: shit guys i’m scared

[avi to-toilet texters]: should we call the cops?

[beomgyu to-toilet texters]: wait let’s try her location first

[avi to-toilet texters]: …do you seriously think jungwon and i haven't tried that already?

[beomgyu to-toilet texters]: fuck

[beomgyu to-toilet texters]: i’m sorry i’m just freaking out this isn’t like her

[jungwon to-toilet texters]: i just checked all over campus

[jungwon to-toilet texters]: she’s not here

[avi to-toilet texters]: fuck

[beomgyu to-toilet texters]: fuck

[avi to-toilet texters]: this is the jake effect.

[avi to-toilet texters]: he shows up for two seconds and now look

[beomgyu to-toilet texters]: avi…

To say you were embarrassed would be an understatement. You quickly responded to the groupchat letting them know about your whereabouts and the circumstances as to why it took you so long to get back to them. None of them were pleased.

Apparently, Jungwon and Beomgyu were only a minute away from marching down to the police station to file a missing persons report. Avi didn’t hold back her anger and annoyance with you. The second you responded to the group chat with your measly apology she was calling you and going in over the phone.You shiver as you think back to her cold words.

"You've really done it this time, haven't you?" she snaps, her tone cutting through the air like a knife. "I can't believe you'd be so reckless, so selfish. And for what? For that jerk?"

Her words strike a nerve, a pang of guilt twisting in your chest as you struggle to find the right response. But before you can gather your thoughts, Avi's tirade continues, her voice growing more heated with each passing moment.

"You're no better than him, you know," she continues, her words heavy with disdain. "Hurting Jungwon like that, just to chase after some guy who doesn't give a damn about you? You two deserve each other."

The weight of her words hangs heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the rift between you and your friends.

"I'm sorry, Avi," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper. "I never meant to hurt anyone. But please, try to understand..."

But before you can finish, Avi cuts you off, her voice cold and dismissive. “Try to understand? ____, Jungwon was ready to call the cops!"

You wince at her words, the guilt weighing heavily on your shoulders. "I-I'm sorry, Avi," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to worry you guys. It's just... things got complicated."

"Complicated?" Avi scoffs, her disbelief evident. "You mean you were too wrapped up in Sim Jaeyun to even bother letting us know you were okay?"

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you listen to her words, the reality of the situation hitting you like a punch to the gut. "I'm sorry," you repeat, your voice trembling with emotion. "I didn't mean to hurt you guys. I just... I needed some time to figure things out."

"I don't want to hear it," she snaps, her tone final. "Jungwon didn’t deserve what you did to him. You deserve the inevitable pain that comes with Jake."

With that, she ended the call, leaving you reeling in the aftermath of her anger. That was four days ago. Out of shame you’ve been hiding out in Jake’s dorm, too embarrassed to even show your face on your own campus. Jake, having heard the heated conversation from his seated position next to you on his couch, offered to let you sleep over until Avi cooled down and you felt more comfortable to go home.

But as the days come to pass you don’t think you’ll ever be ready to go back home. If there even is a home for you to go back to. Every night you fall asleep thinking of your friends and how you’ve messed things up, how they’re doing, if they miss you as much as you miss them, if they’ll ever forgive you. Especially Jungwon.

He just won’t leave your thoughts. You wake up thinking of him and fall asleep dreaming of him. You know eventually you’ll have to man up and make amends with him but a part of you fears you’ve messed up too greatly this time. That Jungwon no longer wants anything to do with you and you can’t blame him for that.

You led him on and let him hold onto the false narrative of the two of you becoming something only to leave him in the dust once Jake came around. There’s an unsettling feeling bubbling up in your chest as you once again analyze your decisions.

You’re happy with Jake, right? This is what you’ve always wanted and yet you have this gut feeling you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life.

“You’re thinking too loudly, babe, please go to sleep.” Jake mumbles while yawning, pulling you closer. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

You hope so, too.

Present day | November 22nd

“Wake up!”

The sound of Jay's cheerful voice breaks through the haze of sleep, pulling you from the comfort of Jake's embrace. With a soft groan, you bury your face deeper into the warmth of the blankets, reluctant to leave the cocoon you've found.

"Wake up sleepy heads!" Jay's voice calls again, this time accompanied by the gentle shake of your shoulder.

Reluctantly, you peel open your eyes, blinking against the intrusion of light filtering in through the window. Jake stirs beside you, his arm tightening around your waist in a silent bid for you to stay a little longer.

But with a sigh, you muster the strength to sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you glance at Jay with a sheepish smile. "Morning," you mumble, your voice thick with sleep.

Jay grins back at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he gestures towards the clock on the wall. "Come on, you two. Sunghoon and Heeseung are waiting, and I made breakfast!"

The mention of food perks up Jake's interest, and he shoots you a playful grin before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "You heard the man," he says, his voice laced with excitement. "Let's go eat!"

With a shared laugh, you and Jake follow Jay out of the bedroom and into the cozy kitchenette of their dorm. The scent of freshly cooked pancakes fills the air, mingling with the aroma of brewing coffee as Jay sets the table with an infectious energy.

As you settle down to breakfast with Jake and Jay, the warmth of their friendship washes over you, bringing you genuine joy with their connection.

As you sip your coffee and dig into the delicious pancakes Jay prepared, you find yourself reflecting on the bond you've been forming with him over the past couple of days. It wasn’t easy at first, considering the tension that arose between him and Beomgyu at the party. But Jay's sincere apology and explanation about his protective nature towards Jake helped to ease the tension.

You remember how he had approached you two days ago, a sheepish smile on his face as he apologized for his near fight with Beomgyu. His explanation had made sense, and his genuine remorse had been evident. Jay's willingness to take responsibility for his actions had impressed you, and it had been the first step towards building trust between you.

And then, there was his joke about nearly stealing you away from Jake at the party, a playful comment that had brought a smile to your lips. Despite the initial awkwardness between you, Jay's sense of humor had helped to break the ice and pave the way for a more comfortable interaction.

As you glance at Jay now, chatting animatedly with Jake as they discuss their plans for the day, you can't help but feel grateful for his presence in your life. His friendship has become an unexpected source of support and laughter, adding a new dynamic to your relationship with Jake.

With a newfound sense of appreciation for the friendship blossoming between you and Jay, you join in the conversation, eagerly anticipating the group hang out with Sunghoon and Heeseung.

With a curious glint in your eyes, you turn to Jay and Jake, the question lingering on the tip of your tongue. "What are Heeseung and Sunghoon like?" you inquire, eager to learn more about their friends.

Jay's grin widens at your question, his enthusiasm contagious. "Heeseung’s the mood maker," he begins, his voice filled with admiration. "He's the most social out of all of us and always knows how to keep the energy up."

Jake nods in agreement, a fond smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, Heeseung is on the basketball team, and he's got this natural charm that draws people to him," he adds. "You'll love him."

“As for Sunghoon," Jay continues, his expression thoughtful, "he's a bit more reserved at first, but when you get to know him, he's a certified yapper. Once he warms up, he's got a lot to say."

Jake snorts, “yeah, if you thought I was bad Sunghoon’s worse, don’t get him started on Yeji or anything skating related he’ll never shut up.”

You perk up at the mention of another girl, “Yeji? Is that his girlfriend?”

Jay nearly spits out his coffee and Jake doubles over from the force of his laughter.

You frown. “What, did I say something wrong?”

Jake shakes his head and wraps his arm around your shoulder to bring you in, “No baby, Yeji is his little sister.”

Your mouth makes an O shape as it sinks in why they were so amused, “my bad.” You sheepishly murmur.

Jay wipes away a tear of laughter as he recovers, still chuckling. "No worries, happens to the best of us."

Jake gives you a reassuring squeeze before releasing you. "Yeah, Sunghoon practically worships the ground his little sister walks on," he explains, his laughter subsiding into a warm smile. "You'll see what we mean when you meet him."

With the misunderstanding cleared up, you finish up breakfast with Jake and Jay, the lively conversation and laughter filling the small kitchenette. As the last of the dishes are washed and dried, you make your way back to Jake's room to get ready for the day ahead.

As you rummage through your limited selection of clothes, Jake enters the room with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I've got something for you," he says, holding up a small shopping bag.

Curious, you peek inside to find a Harvard hoodie nestled within. It's maroon with the school's name printed on the front with its emblem up in the corner. You stare at the hoodie, not sure what to make of it. "Jake, you didn't have to..."

He cuts you off with a grin. "I wanted to," he insists, his eyes warm with affection. “I have a matching one, plus if you do decide to transfer you need to have a Harvard hoodie, it’s a rite of passage here!”

Your hum as your mind flashes back to the conversation you had with Jake a few days ago.

You were walking through Harvard’s campus on your way to his dorm. The imposing, ivy-covered buildings made you feel out of place, a stark reminder that this had once been your dream school. 

"I still can't believe you're here," you had said, half in awe and half in melancholy. "I used to imagine myself walking these paths every day."

Jake had looked at you, his expression serious. "You could still be here, you know. Transferring is always an option."

You had laughed then, a little bitterly. "It's not that simple, Jake. I have friends at Northeastern, a life... And Harvard feels so far away now."

Jake had stopped walking, turning to face you. "But if it makes you happy, isn't it worth considering? We could be together, and you'd finally be living your dream."

You had sighed, looking away. "I don't know, Jake. It's a lot to think about."

Shaking off the memory, you manage a small smile, touched nonetheless by the sentiment of his gift. "Thanks, Jake. I appreciate it," you say, your mind still swirling with conflicting emotions. On one hand, the thought of transferring to Harvard, being with Jake, and starting fresh is appealing. But on the other hand, the guilt of potentially betraying Avi, Jungwon, and Beomgyu tugs at your heart. They were your first friends here, and you can’t picture a life where they’re not in it.

As you slip on the hoodie, a comfortable warmth spreads through you, though it does little to ease the turmoil inside. Jake watches you, his smile faltering slightly as he notices your pensive expression.

"Hey," he says softly, breaking the silence. "Have you given it any more thought? Transferring, I mean."

You take a deep breath, turning to face him. "Honestly, no. I haven't really had the chance to think it through."

Jake's face softens, and he steps closer, taking your hands in his. "I understand. It's a big decision. But can you promise me one thing?"

"What?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Promise me that you'll at least think about it. Not for me, but for yourself. You deserve to follow your dreams, and I don't want you to have any regrets."

You look into his earnest eyes, feeling a mix of gratitude and guilt. "I promise, Jake. I'll think about it."

He smiles, squeezing your hands gently. "That's all I ask."

You take another deep breath, pushing aside your worries for now. "Ready to go meet your friends?" you ask, trying to keep your voice light.

Jake nods, his smile widening. "Yeah, they're excited to meet you. The MFA is going to be amazing."

You grab your tote bag and head towards the door with him once he finishes getting dressed. As you step out into the hallway, you can't help but glance back at the dorm room you've been staying in, wondering how long you'll be caught between two worlds.

You join Jay in the living room, where he's waiting with the keys to his car in hand. "Ready to go?" he asks, flashing you a grin.

You nod eagerly, excitement bubbling within you as you anticipate the day ahead. With a final glance around the room, you follow Jay and Jake out of the dorm and into the chilly afternoon, ready to meet the people Jake considers his closest friends now.

As you pile into Jay's car, the excitement in the air is palpable. Jake takes the driver's seat, you settle into the passenger side, and Jay slides into the back, sandwiched between you. The engine roars to life, and with a grin from Jake, the car pulls out onto the road.

The ride is short but lively, filled with laughter and playful banter as you share stories and jokes. The music blasts from the speakers, a mishmash of songs from all your playlists, creating the perfect soundtrack for the journey. You find yourself singing along to familiar tunes, feeling the carefree joy of the moment wash over you.

Before you know it, Jake is pulling into a parking spot near the Museum of Fine Arts, and you all pile out of the car, eager to explore the exhibits.

Heeseung and Sunghoon are already waiting by the ticket booth, chatting animatedly as they purchase the tickets for the group. Heeseung's infectious smile lights up his face as he catches sight of you, and he waves enthusiastically.

"Jay! Jake!" he calls out, his voice friendly and welcoming. "Glad you could make it. I've been looking forward to finally meeting the ever so famous, ____ ."

Jake returns his smile with one of his own. "Aye~ chill out." he replies, his tone filled with a hint of embarrassment.

Sunghoon joins in, his own smile warm and inviting. "Nice to meet you," he says, nodding in your direction. "Jake's been talking about you nonstop."

You chuckle at the teasing remark, feeling a sense of ease settle over you in their presence. Despite the nerves that come with meeting new people, Heeseung and Sunghoon's friendly demeanor puts you at ease, and you can't help but feel excited for the day ahead.

With tickets in hand, you all make your way into the museum, ready to immerse yourselves in the world of art and culture.

As your group strolls through the museum, the array of artwork captivates your attention. Jake and Sunghoon, engrossed in the intricate details of Japanese art, wander ahead, their conversation a mix of admiration and fascination. Jay, however, lags a bit behind, his steps deliberate as he scrutinizes each piece with a keen eye.

Meanwhile, Heeseung and you find yourselves falling into step, engaged in a conversation about Jake. Heeseung's relief is palpable as he expresses his happiness about the reconciliation between you and Jake.

"He's been so happy lately," Heeseung confides, his voice filled with genuine happiness for his friend. "I'm really glad you two made up. It's like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders."

You nod in understanding. "Yeah, I'm glad we cleared the air. It feels good to be back on good terms."

Heeseung's smile widens, his eyes reflecting warmth. "You have no idea how much it means to him," he assures you.

You smile, not sure what to say in response. Sensing this Heeseung changes the topic.

“So, how do you like Boston?”

“It’s great! There’s so much to do. My friends and I love going to Newbury for the food festivals.” You say, a small smile on your face at the chance of talking about your friends.

Heeseung nods. “That sounds fun. Have you been to Allston yet? The kbbq  there is incredible.”

“Not yet, but it’s on my list,” you reply. “Jake keeps promising to take me.”

Heeseung chuckles. “He’d better. It’s a must-see.”

As you continue walking through the museum, admiring the exhibits, a wave of guilt washes over you as you stare at the back of Jake’s head. Memories of the previous night flood your mind, the warmth of Jake's embrace juxtaposed with the lingering doubts about your feelings for Jungwon.

Caught between the past and the present, you struggle to push aside the nagging thoughts that something isn’t right.

Heeseung glances at you before clearing his throat to ask, “are you transferring to Harvard?”

Caught off guard, you shake your head. “Why do you ask?”

His eyes shift down to the hoodie and understanding dawns on you.

“Oh. No, it was a gift from Jake. I’m still at Northeastern.”

Heeseung nods thoughtfully. “Makes sense. But you know, if you did transfer, it would probably help Jake a lot.”

You furrow your brow in confusion. “Help him? How?”

Heeseung’s brows pinch together as he frowns, "his sobriety?”

The revelation hits you like a ton of bricks, leaving you momentarily speechless as you stop walking. You had no idea that Jake had ever struggled with substance abuse.

Heeseung's face slowly falls as he realizes his mistake, cursing softly under his breath as he realizes he's dropped a bombshell on you without warning. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice tinged with regret. "I shouldn't have just blurted that out like that, I thought he told you."

You shake your head, trying to process the newfound information while also feeling a pang of sympathy for Heeseung's evident discomfort. "No, it's okay," you assure him, offering a reassuring smile despite the whirlwind of emotions churning within you.

Heeseung's expression softens, gratitude evident in his eyes as he meets your gaze. "Thanks," he murmurs, a note of relief in his voice. "I’m sure he’ll tell you soon, he’s been meaning to."

You nod in understanding, the weight of Heeseung's words sinking in as you come to terms with the realization that there's still so much about Jake's life that you don't know. "I'll wait for him to bring it up," you promise.

With a grateful smile, Heeseung bumps you on the shoulder before turning to rejoin the rest of the group, leaving you alone with your thoughts amidst the bustling museum crowds.

As the group continues to explore the museum, you find it increasingly difficult to focus on the artwork around you. You think about Jake’s struggles and the possibility of transferring to Harvard. While the idea of being there to support him is compelling, you can’t ignore the nagging guilt about Avi, Jungwon, and Beomgyu. They’ve always been there for you, and you don’t want to let them down by choosing Jake yet again.

Despite the vibrant chatter and laughter of your friends, you feel a growing sense of unease gnawing at your conscience.

When Jake suggests grabbing some food from El Jefe, your stomach churns with conflicting emotions. The prospect of spending more time with your newfound friends is enticing, but the memories of late nights at that very restaurant with Jungwon after studying all night fills you with sadness.

As you follow the group out of the museum and into the chilly streets of Boston, you realize just how close you are to your dorm. A pang of sadness tugs at your heart as you remember Avi and Beomgyu as well, wondering what they’re up to. The thought of facing them again fills you with apprehension, yet a part of you longs for the familiarity of their company.

As you approach El Jefe, the scent of delicious Mexican food wafts through the air, tempting your taste buds but as you guys gather around a table, eagerly discussing the meal choices, you find yourself hesitating.

"I think I'm gonna pass on lunch," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you address Jake and the others. "I... I need to take care of something."

Jake's brow furrows with concern as he meets your gaze, sensing the sudden shift in your demeanor. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine worry.

You force a smile, though it feels strained on your lips. "Yeah, I'll be fine," you assure him, though the lie tastes bitter in your mouth.

Heeseung, Jay, and Sunghoon exchange puzzled glances, sensing the tension in the air. But before anyone can question you further, you push back your chair and rise to your feet, the need for solitude outweighing the discomfort of their curious stares.

"Sorry, I just... I need to talk to someone," you explain vaguely, not wanting to burden them with the weight of your emotions.

Jake's expression softens with understanding, and he nods in silent acknowledgment of your unspoken plea. "Take all the time you need," he says gently, reaching out to squeeze your hand in a silent gesture of support.

With a grateful smile, you offer him a nod before turning on your heel and making your way out of the restaurant, the familiar ache of loneliness lingering in your chest.

First, you head to Wollaston's to buy cherry gummy bears for Jungwon. The bright, familiar packaging gives you a momentary sense of comfort, a small reminder of the inside jokes and shared moments with your friends.

With the gummy bears safely tucked into your bag, you make your way to your dorm room, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and anxiety.

Taking a deep breath, you push open the door and step into the lit hallway, the sound of your footsteps echoing against the walls. With each step, the tension in your shoulders mounts, the anticipation of facing Avi after so long weighing heavily on your mind.

Finally, you reach your dorm and let yourself in. You spot Avi’s shoes at the entrance, proving she’s home, but you find the little living room and kitchen empty, meaning she’s in her room. You walk up to her door and pause for a moment, gathering your thoughts before raising your hand to knock. The seconds tick by agonizingly slow, the silence stretching between you like a chasm.

Then, the door swings open, and there she stands, with her piercing gaze and arms crossed tightly across her chest. The tension in the air is palpable as you meet her eyes, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy between you.

“Avi, can we talk?” you ask softly, stepping into the room.

Avi looks down, her eyes narrowing when she notices the Harvard hoodie. “What do you want?” she asks, her tone guarded.

“I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be,” you start, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been so wrapped up in Jake that I’ve neglected you and everyone else. I’m really sorry.”

Avi’s eyes flicker with uncertainty. “You’re wearing a Harvard hoodie. Are you already planning to leave us?”

“No,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “It was a gift from Jake. He talked to me about transferring, but I don’t want to leave my friends. You all mean too much to me.”

Avi studies you for a moment, her expression softening just a bit. “It feels like you’ve already left us, though.”

“I know,” you admit, feeling the sting of her words. “And I’m really sorry. I’ve been a terrible friend. But I want to make it right.”

Before Avi can respond, you hear a familiar voice from behind her. “She’s telling the truth, Avi,” Beomgyu says, coming into view. He’s sitting on the other side of her bed, partially hidden by her fugue. “She seems sincere.”

You turn to Beomgyu, your heart aching. “I’m so sorry, Beomgyu. I’ve been awful to you all, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m asking for it anyway. Please, give me a chance to make things right.”

Beomgyu looks at Avi, who sighs and nods slightly. He then turns back to you. “It’s going to take time, but I think we can give you that chance.”

Relief floods through you, and you feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Thank you. I promise I’ll do better.”

Avi gets up and walks over to you, pulling you into a hesitant hug. “Just don’t disappear on us again, okay?”

You nod, hugging her tightly. “I won’t. I promise.”

Beomgyu joins the hug, and for a moment, the three of you stand there, holding onto each other. When you finally pull away, you wipe your eyes and smile.

Avi breaks the silence with a question that catches you off guard. "So, how are things with Jake?" she asks, her tone hesitant yet curious.

Avi's question lingers in the air, and you take a moment to gather your thoughts before responding. "Things with Jake... they're actually going better than I thought," you admit, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I've met all of his friends, and they're actually really sweet."

Avi's eyebrows raise in surprise, though there's a hint of skepticism in her expression. "Really? Even Jay?" she asks, her voice laced with doubt.

You nod, feeling a pang of guilt at the mention of Jay's name. "Yeah, even Jay," you confirm. "He's been... really nice to me." You turn to Beomgyu. “He even apologized for how he came at you at the party. I'm sure if he saw you again, he'd apologize to you as well.”

Beomgyu nods softly and shrugs. “Water under the bridge? I'm glad you guys are getting along."

You offer Beomgyu a grateful smile before turning back to Avi. "I know we've got a lot to catch up on, but there's one more person I need to make amends with," you explain, your voice tinged with regret. "I need to talk to Jungwon."

Avi's expression softens at the mention of Jungwon's name, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Yeah, you do," she agrees quietly. "But take your time. He'll come around."

You nod and turn to Beomgyu who offers you a tight-lipped smile. “He should be in our room. He’s probably packing for Thanksgiving break,” Beomgyu offers as he lays back down on Avi’s bed. Your brows furrow at that.

“He’s going back to Korea?”

Beomgyu hums. “Said he needs the mental break.”

Avi sighs, sitting back down beside Beomgyu. “I was hoping we could all spend Thanksgiving together like we planned but I get he needs space.”

“I know,” you say, feeling a pang of guilt. “I didn’t realize things had gotten so bad for him.”

Beomgyu’s eyes soften. “He’s been really stressed. With everything that’s been happening, I think he just needs to get away and clear his head.”

“Maybe talking to him will help,” Avi suggests. “Even if he’s leaving, he deserves to know how much you care.”

You nod, taking a deep breath. “I hope so. I really don’t want to lose him as a friend.”

Beomgyu gives you a reassuring smile. “Just be honest with him. He’ll appreciate that, even if he’s still upset.”

“Thanks, Beomgyu,” you say softly. “I’m going to go talk to him now.”

Avi stands and gives you another quick hug. “Good luck. We’ll be here if you need us.”

With a nod, you leave Avi’s room and your dorm all together, your heart heavy. As you walk down the hallway towards Beomgyu and Jungwon’s shared dorm, your mind races with thoughts of how to approach Jungwon. The closer you get, the more you feel the weight of your actions and their impact on your friends.

When you reach your destination, the door is slightly ajar. You push it open gently and see Jungwon inside, methodically folding clothes and placing them into his suitcase in the living room. The sight of him packing feels like a punch to the gut, knowing that his departure is partly your fault.

“Jungwon,” you start tentatively, stepping inside.

He doesn’t look up, his movements precise and mechanical. “What do you want?”

“I came to apologize,” you say, holding out the gummy bears. “And I brought these. I know they’re your favorite.”

Jungwon glances at the gummy bears, then back to his suitcase. “You think gummy bears are going to fix this?”

“No,” you say quickly. “I just wanted to show you that I care. I’ve been a terrible friend, and I know I’ve hurt you.”

He finally stops packing and looks at you, his expression a mix of hurt and anger. “Do you even realize what you’ve done? It’s like we don’t matter to you.”

“That’s not true,” you say, your voice trembling. “You mean the world to me.”

Jungwon shakes his head. “If we meant so much to you, you wouldn’t have treated us like this. Do you know how it feels to watch the girl you’re in love with settle for some douchebag like Jake?”

Your breath catches. “Jungwon, I didn’t know…”

“Of course you didn’t,” he snaps. “Because you never took the time to see what was right in front of you. You were too busy chasing after Jake.”

“Jungwon, I…” you trail off, trying to find the right words. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He scoffs. “You didn’t mean to, but you did. Over and over again. And the worst part is, you don’t even see it. The way you so willingly left Avi, Beomgyu, and me behind for Jake is alarming. I never knew you were this self-absorbed.”

Tears well up in your eyes. “Jungwon, please. I’m trying to make things right.”

He sighs, looking more tired than angry now. “You can’t just come back and expect everything to be okay. It doesn’t work like that. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” you say, your voice breaking. “But I’m willing to do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness.”

Jungwon stares at you for a long moment. “If you want my forgiveness, you need to make a choice. Him or me.”

Your heart sinks. “Jungwon, please don’t make me choose.”

“I’m serious,” he says, his voice cold.

Desperate, you try to shift the conversation. “What about our Thanksgiving plans?”

Jungwon scoffs. “Spend it with Jake,” he retorts, his gaze flicking to the Harvard hoodie you’re wearing. “You know, the one who got you that hoodie. Remember when you said Harvard was your past and you were ready to focus on me and Northeastern? What a load of crap.”

You feel a surge of desperation. “Jungwon, please. I was confused. I didn’t know this would happen!”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” His voice rises, frustration clear. “That’s such bullshit! First you picked Jake over us, it was like a slap in the face. And now, you show up wearing that hoodie, like it’s some badge of honor.”

“It’s just a hoodie,” you protest weakly. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means everything!” Jungwon shouts, slamming his suitcase shut. “It’s a symbol of all the times you put Jake first. You said you were done with Harvard, done with him being your priority, but here we are.”

“Jungwon, I’m sorry,” you plead, tears streaming down your face. “I never meant to hurt you. I love you, Avi, and Beomgyu. You’re my best friends.”

“Then why do you treat us like we’re second best?” he demands, his voice breaking. “Why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t lie,” you whisper. “I was just… lost. Jake is my first love, and I got caught up in that. But you, Avi, and Beomgyu are my family. I don’t want to lose you.”

Jungwon’s expression softens for a brief moment, but then hardens again. “You already have,” he says quietly. “You’ve pushed me away too many times. I can’t trust you anymore.”

“What can I do?” you ask, desperation lacing your voice. “Tell me, and I’ll do it.”

“If you want my forgiveness, you need to make a choice. Him or me,” he repeats firmly.

“Jungwon, please,” you beg. “Don’t make me choose.”

“I’m serious,” he says, his voice cold. “I can’t watch you destroy yourself over Jake. So, make a choice.”

You stand there, speechless and trembling, the weight of his ultimatum pressing down on you. Jungwon looks away, his expression hardened. “Just go. I need to finish packing.”

Desperate and broken, you try one last time. “Jungwon, please…”

But he’s already turned his back on you, continuing to pack as if you aren’t there. With a heavy heart, you turn and leave the dorm, feeling more lost and alone than ever. As you walk down the hallway back to your room, the tears finally spill over, blurring your vision. The realization that you might have just lost one of your closest friends hits you hard.

The door to your dorm opens again, and Avi steps out, her face soft with concern. She takes one look at your tear-streaked face and pulls you into another hug, her grip tight and reassuring. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispers, her voice steady. “We’ll figure this out together.”

Beomgyu joins the two of you, “We’re here for you,” he says quietly. “No matter what happens.”

You take a shaky breath, still enveloped in Avi’s comforting embrace. “I don’t understand why Jungwon was so cold and closed off,” you say, your voice trembling, not used to being on the receiving end of his anger.

Avi pulls back slightly, enough to look you in the eyes. “It’s a given he’s upset. You’re important to him, and he feels hurt and betrayed. But that doesn’t mean he won’t come around. He just needs time.”

Beomgyu nods in agreement. “Jungwon’s always been the calm and understanding one, but everyone has their breaking point. He’s just reached his. Give him some space to process everything. He loves you too much to stay mad forever.”

You nod, feeling a glimmer of hope through the despair. “I just wish I hadn’t hurt him so badly.”

“We all make mistakes,” Avi says gently. “At least you’re trying to make up for it now.”

Beomgyu pats your shoulder. “Yeah, plus we’re here to help you.”

A small smile forms on your lips as you take in their words. “Thank you, both of you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Avi squeezes your hand. “You don’t have to worry about that because we’re not going anywhere. We’ll get through this together.”

Feeling a bit lighter, you take a deep breath and straighten up. “I need to figure out how to fix things with Jungwon. But for now, I guess I should let him have his space.”

“That’s a good idea,” Beomgyu agrees. “Let him cool down. In the meantime, let’s focus on spending some time together. We’ve missed you.”

“Yeah,” Avi adds, her tone brightening. “Let’s do something fun.”

You smile, feeling a bit of the tension ease from your shoulders. “I’d like that. I’ve missed you guys too.”

With Avi and Beomgyu by your side, you start to walk back towards your bedroom.

November 28th | Thanksgiving Day

“This isn’t how I pictured Friendsgiving going.” Avi clears her throat, breaking the tense silence. 

You look around the room, taking in the scene. Your dorm is filled with people, but the atmosphere is anything but festive. Jake, Heeseung, Jay, and Sunghoon are here, along with Avi, Beomgyu, and yourself. The idea had been to merge friend groups for Thanksgiving/Chuseok, a suggestion from Avi and Beomgyu in an attempt to bridge the growing divide for your sake. But now, everyone sits awkwardly on the floor, picking at their side dishes, unsure of what to do or say.

Beomgyu is the next to break the silence. “How about we play a drinking game?” he offers, a hint of forced enthusiasm in his voice. “Might help loosen the tension.”

You sneak a glance at Jake, curious to see his reaction. He still hasn’t told you about his sobriety, and you wonder how he’ll handle this situation.

Jake looks around at the expectant faces, then clears his throat. “I don’t drink,” he says simply, his voice steady. “But I don’t mind if others do. I’ll just stick to the mocktails.” He offers a small smile and raises his glass of the non-alcoholic concoction you and Avi had prepared earlier.

You nod, making a mental note to ask him about it later, despite the promise you made to Heeseung not to mention it. The curiosity is too overwhelming to ignore.

Avi looks around, trying to salvage the situation. “Okay, mocktails for some, drinks for others. Let’s just try to have a good time.”

Heeseung nods. “What about Truth or Drink? It’s a good way to get to know each other better.”

Everyone exchanges glances, and after a moment, nods of agreement ripple through the group. Heeseung takes charge, explaining the rules quickly. “You either answer the question honestly, or you take a drink. Simple as that.”

The first few rounds are tentative, with everyone choosing relatively safe questions. Gradually, the atmosphere lightens as laughter and teasing fill the room.

Jay looks at Avi. “What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?”

Avi laughs, her cheeks flushing as she recounts a story about a high school talent show gone wrong. The room erupts in laughter, and for the first time, the tension seems to dissipate.

During Sunghoon’s turn, you excuse yourself to get a refill of more banchan from the kitchen. Avi joins you, leaning against the counter as you gather the dishes.

“You know,” Avi says, her voice low so it doesn’t carry back to the others, “Jake and his friends aren’t all that bad.”

You glance at her, surprised but pleased. “Yeah, they’re really nice once you get to know them.”

Avi nods, then her expression turns somber. “I just wish Jungwon was here. Celebrating Chuseok was for him, after all. He was starting to get homesick after missing Chuseok with his family.”

A pang of sadness hits you at the reminder. You take a deep breath, trying to push away the ache in your chest. “I know. I miss him too. But at least he gets to celebrate a real Chuseok with his family.”

Avi gives you a small, sympathetic smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s just not the same without him.”

You nod, trying to focus on the positive. “We’ll see him soon enough. And who knows? Maybe things will be better by then.”

Returning to the group with the banchan, you notice the warm, friendly atmosphere that has developed. Jake catches your eye and smiles, after placing down the ceramic serving dish you take a seat beside him.

As the game continues, Jay looks over at you and Jake. “You two make a really cute couple, you know that?”

Before you can respond, Sunghoon and Beomgyu, both tipsy, start hugging each other and pretending to make out, mimicking a couple to tease you and Jake. Everyone bursts into laughter, the playful antics breaking any remaining tension in the room.

Avi playfully rolls her eyes. “Alright, boys, cut it out,” she says with a grin. She glances at the clock on the wall and her eyes widen slightly. “Shit, it’s late. If you guys want, you can sleep over.”

The boys thank her, and the sleeping arrangements are quickly sorted out. Heeseung claims the couch, Sunghoon opts for the blow-up mattress on the floor, and Beomgyu, as always, takes his usual spot in Avi’s room. That leaves Jake and you to share your room.

As you and Jake get up to head to bed, the teasing starts again. “Oh, look at the lovebirds,” Sunghoon calls out, grinning mischievously.

“Don’t have too much fun in there,” Beomgyu adds with a wink.

Avi smirks. “Remember, the walls are thin. I’d appreciate it if Jake could keep his hands to himself tonight.”

Heeseung scoffs, laughing. “Jake doesn’t know what it means to keep his hands to himself.”

Jake rolls his eyes but can’t help but laugh along with everyone. “Fuck off,” he says, taking your hand as you both head to your room, the playful teasing still echoing in your ears.

Once inside your room, you close the door and turn to Jake, who’s still smiling. “That was fun,” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, leaning into him. “I’m really glad everyone’s getting along.”

Jake nods, his expression softening. “Me too. It means a lot to me.”

He steps back and strips off his shirt, revealing the well-defined muscles beneath. He climbs into your bed, his arms wide open in an inviting gesture. You slide in beside him, curling up on his chest. The warmth of his skin against yours is comforting, and you find yourself drawing little shapes on his chest with your finger. He sighs contentedly, pulling you in closer and kissing the top of your head.

“I’m so thankful for this second chance,” he whispers.

You place a soft kiss on his collarbone. “I’m happy too,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake waits a beat before pushing you away slightly, his expression turning serious. “I need to tell you something,” he says.

Your heart skips a beat. “What is it?”

He takes a deep breath. “The summer before you started at Northeastern, I went back home to Australia. I wanted to make amends, but I found out from my mom how hard you took it when I left. I didn’t realize how much I hurt you until then. When I heard that you didn’t get into Harvard, I felt like I had ruined everything for you. I was crushed.”

You stay silent, listening intently as he continues.

“When I came back, I started drinking and smoking. I even got into LSD. It got to a point where I would wake up, smoke a preroll, go back to bed, wake up again, smoke the remainder, then go about my day and probably smoke another five more times. I drank a lot to forget you and the pain I caused.”

You feel a lump form in your throat as tears well up in your eyes. Jake’s voice trembles slightly as he recounts his past.

“There was this party… I got so crossfaded that I passed out and was unresponsive for over twenty minutes. That was the turning point. Jay cried and begged me to stop. Said he didn’t want to see me dead. That’s why we’re so close. He even gave up drinking for a while to help me out, and Heeseung and Sunghoon gave up parties to support me. They’re like brothers to me, not just friends.”

By now, silent tears are streaming down your face. Jake gently wipes them away, his eyes filled with concern and vulnerability.

“I understand if this changes things for you,” he says softly. “But I needed to tell you.”

You shake your head, your emotions overwhelming you. Leaning in, you kiss him hard, pouring all your feelings into that kiss. When you finally pull away, you look into his eyes, your voice firm and resolute.

“It doesn’t change anything, Jake. If anything, it makes me love you more for your honesty.”

Jake’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, and he pulls you into a tight embrace. “Thank you,” he whispers.

You shift and move yourself onto his lap, straddling his waist, your knees on either side of his legs. You wrap your arms around his neck and place your lips onto his own pouty ones, kissing him slowly. Jake moves his hands to your waist, and grips them tightly before pulling away.

You pout at the loss of contact and move your head to the crook of his neck to place soft kisses there. Jake whines and grips your waist once again.

“B-baby wait.”

You sigh but pull away to look into his eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything we can just cuddle.” Jake says, rubbing slow circles onto your thigh. You shake your head.

“I want to.”

Jake stares into your eyes searching for any hesitance before asking one more time, “are you sure?”

You nod. “As long as you promise to not leave me this time.”

Jake brings a hand up to your cheek and gently caresses it. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Jake's lips fall upon yours again, his lips moving in a frenzied fashion this time.

Instinctively, your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him closer into you. Jake lets out a soft growl against your lips before pulling away. Peppering kisses along your jaw, he trails down the column of your throat before nuzzling his face into the juncture of your shoulder.

"God- I've missed you," Jake whispers as he breathes in your calming scent. You place your hands in his hair threading the strands, you lazily play with the locks at the nape of his neck.

"I missed you too. A lot," you moan out as Jake begins to suckle bruises onto the tender flesh of your throat. Jake sucks in a sharp breath at the feeling of you tugging on his hair and immediately switches positions with you. He swiftly cages you between his body and the mattress before moving down to be level with your dripping pussy. You jerk at the sudden movement, your eyes widening at the sight of him.

Jake groans out as he runs his nose along the exposed flesh of your inner thigh. Your breath hitches at the sensation, Jake’s large hands slowly wrap around your thighs before he parts your legs.

Running his nose against your panties, Jake takes in a deep breath before groaning as the scent of your arousal runs through his nose. He pushes your sleep shirt further up your hips, his lips gently kissing his way up the length of your thigh. Positioned just over your hip, Jake places a tender kiss above where your bone is. Then, he bites down on the waistband of your panties before slowly sliding it down your legs.

Gripping one of your thighs, he pulls it to rest over his shoulder, exposing your pussy even more. Jake shudders as the scent of your arousal deepens. Biting his lip, Jake edges closer to your folds before tentatively licking a line: all the way from your core to your clit.

“Oh my gosh,” you groan out, your head lolling back while one of your hands shoots out to tangle into his thick hair. Hearing your low groan, Jake smirks against your pussy before repeating the action. Spikes of pleasure run up and down your spine, your eyelids fluttering as you lose yourself into the pleasure he brings upon your body.

Soft lips wrap around your clit, Jake pulls the sensitive bud into his mouth before lightly sucking on it. His ministrations cause you to gasp - the sound quickly morphing into a heavy moan when he nips your throbbing clit. Tangling your fingers further into his hair, you tug as hard as you can on his hair, trying to get him to move faster.

“J-jake.” you whine needily, desperation heavy in the high pitch of your voice.

Jake pushes two fingers into you, your body jerks at the sudden intrusion as you tug at his hair reflexively. Twisting his fingers into you, Jake pumps his digits in and out, relishing in the feel of your pulsating walls around him as he continues eating you out.

“Cumming-” you gasp out, your voice cracking under the pleasure.

“Then cum baby- cum all over my tongue. wanna taste you, ” Jake urges. The filthiness of his words, paired with the way he harshly sucks your clit, instantly has you cumming.

You whine out his name, gasping for air, you slowly come down from the high of your orgasm. Jake patiently waits for you to come back to reality.

Once you catch your breath he moves up to place a soft kiss on your awaiting lips.

“How are you feeling princess?”

You adjust your shirt to cover your lower half before responding. “Good.”

“Want to continue?”

You nod, “yes. Want to feel you inside me.”

Jake groans at your words. “Do you have a condom?”

You hum and nod your head towards your bedside drawer. “First shelf.”

Jake removes himself from you to walk towards the shelf and takes out the small foil before opening it and rolling the condom over his dick. Sighing at the feeling of finally touching himself. He gives himself a few tugs and makes sure the condom is secured before walking back to you.

Jake’s cock is ready, heavy against his palm as he takes a hold of the base and spreads your legs apart. His chest is littered with beads of sweat. “Your pussy looks so fucking good.” He remarks, letting the pink tip of his dick rub against your wet folds. You both moan at the sensation.

With one more rub of his head, he lines himself against your entrance and slowly pushes his hips forward. You think you could come instantly again.

“Fuck.” You let out as you place a hand on his chest, letting the feel of his cock overtake your entire body. He stops when he’s reached the hilt, careful to rock his hips out before slamming them back into you. You can’t help but cry his name out.

“I won’t last long.” Jake whimpers, you move the hand on his chest to the back of his neck as you push his head forward to kiss you. He follows suit, beginning a rhythmic pace of his hips as you lose yourself further and further into him.

Jake kisses you feverishly, hot and wet against your mouth as he continues to rock in and out of you. His breaths labored, filthy words and curses escaping him as you clench around him with each thrust.

“Ngh- not gonna last long either!” You’re losing your mind, already close to a second orgasm. You know you’re going to come again soon.

Jake takes your legs and places your ankles on his shoulder, plummeting into you with a force so delicious, you’re about to go delirious

“Fuck, turn around for me.” You do as requested, turning to your stomach. Jake pulls your ass up towards him and lines himself up once again. Without hesitation this time, he pushes into you.

“Oh my gosh,” Jake is moaning out. He grabs a handful of your ass, using it as support while he rams into you with no plans of slowing down. The room is filled with the sound of your skin slapping and your shared moans. You have no doubt everyone can hear the two of you.

Jake reaches forward immediately gravitating towards your clit and rubs to bring you over the edge.

It doesn’t take much longer before your heels are digging into the mattress and you’re cumming. You feel Jake still behind you as he releases into the condom.

You lay still, letting your cum dribble out of you as Jake pulls out.

“Was that okay?” Jake asks, leaning forward to kiss your shoulder. You nod in reassurance, twisting your head around so he can kiss your lips.

“More than okay.”

The morning light filters softly through the blinds as you slide out of Jake’s arms, careful not to wake him. You dress quickly and head to the kitchen, intent on starting breakfast for your guests. To your surprise, you find Jay already there, rummaging through the ingredients and setting up to make breakfast.

“Jay?” you say, taken aback but not entirely surprised. He looks up and gives you a sheepish smile.

“Hey,” he replies, cracking an egg into a bowl. “Figured I’d get a head start.”

You smile and move to help him, grabbing a knife and starting to cut up some fruit. As you chop strawberries, the silence between you feels companionable. Finally, you muster the courage to speak up. “Thank you.”

Jay glances up from the omelette he’s making, his brow furrowing in confusion. “For what?”

You put down the knife and turn to face him fully. “Thank you for taking care of Jake when I couldn’t.”

Jay’s expression softens, and he shakes his head. “You don’t need to thank me. I love Jake. He’s like a brother to me.”

You nod, appreciating his sincerity. You both return to your tasks, the kitchen filled with the sound of sizzling and chopping. After a moment, Jay speaks up again.

“Are you confident in your decision to be with Jake?” he asks gently.

You hesitate, your hands pausing mid-chop. Jay notices and quickly adds, “I won’t judge you, whatever your answer is.”

You take a deep breath, considering your words carefully. “I’m happy to finally have the boy I’ve always loved,” you begin slowly. “But sometimes… sometimes I find myself thinking about Jungwon and what could have been.”

Jay nods, understanding in his eyes. “I get it. But you need to decide who you want to be with. Jake is fully invested in you, and I’d hate to see him destroyed if you drag this out only to decide you want Jungwon in the end.”

His words hit hard, and you can’t help but fall silent, lost in thought. The reality of your situation settles heavily on your shoulders. You return to chopping strawberries, your mind racing.

Jay reaches over and places a hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Whatever you decide, just be honest with yourself and with them. That’s all anyone can ask.”

You nod, grateful for his words and his support. As the two of you finish preparing breakfast, you can’t shake the feeling of uncertainty that lingers. With the fruit salad complete and the omelettes almost ready, you begin to bring the food out. As you enter the living room, Heeseung rises and shakes awake Sunghoom so they can take their seat on the floor as you bring in plates of food.

One by one, everyone makes their way to the living room, the aroma of breakfast drawing them in. Avi and Beomgyu are next, followed by Jay, who gives you a reassuring nod. Jake is the last to emerge, his hair tousled and a sleepy smile on his face. He takes a seat beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

The room falls into a comfortable silence as everyone starts to eat. But it doesn’t last long.

Beomgyu is the first to break the silence. “You two are disgusting,” he says, pointing his fork at you and Jake. “Do you know everyone heard you last night?”

Avi groans, covering her ears dramatically. “My poor ears!”

Heeseung and Sunghoon join in, laughing and shaking their heads. “Seriously, guys,” Sunghoon says, rolling his eyes. “Couldn’t you have kept it down a bit?”

You hide your face in Jake’s chest, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. Jake chuckles, rubbing your back soothingly. “Hey, come on,” he says, defending the two of you. “We weren’t that loud.”

Avi rolls her eyes playfully. “Sure, Jake. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Heeseung smirks before letting the loudest moan rip from his throat. “fuck jake…i’m not gonna last long.” He exclaims, his voice exaggerated and mocking.

Mortified, you cover your face with your hands, wishing the ground would swallow you up. “Heeseung, stop!” Jake says, trying to suppress his own laughter. “Seriously, guys, cut it out.”

But the rest of them join in, their laughter filling the room. Avi tries to hold back her giggles as she adds, “I swear, I thought you were filming a movie in there.”

Beomgyu grins, leaning into Sunghoon as they both mimic exaggerated kissing noises. “Oh, Jake! Oh, yes!” Beomgyu echoes, clutching his sides in laughter.

You groan, burying your face even deeper into Jake’s chest. “I can’t believe this,” you mumble, your voice muffled.

Jake’s arm tightens around you protectively. “Alright, alright, enough,” he says, trying to sound serious but failing to hide his amusement.

Heeseung, still giggling, wipes a tear from his eye. “Sorry, we couldn’t resist. But seriously, you guys are cute together.”

You peek out from behind your hands, your face still flushed. “Thanks, I guess,” you mutter, trying to salvage some dignity.

Jake kisses the top of your head, whispering, “Don’t worry about them. They’re just jealous.”

Beomgyu scoffs, “jealous? Please I can pull anyone.”

Avi snorts. “And yet you’re still bitchless.”

November 30th

It’s now Saturday and you're out buying groceries, determined to do a dorm refresh. It’s been a busy few days, and you’re looking forward to a quiet evening to reorganize your space and settle into some semblance of normalcy before classes start back up. With bags in hand, you make your way back to your dorm, already planning out how you’ll spend the rest of the day.

As you approach your door, you notice a bouquet of peonies resting against the frame. You pause, staring at the flowers. You know they’re from Jake. He used to give you peonies on your dates back in Australia, a sweet gesture that always made you smile. But now, they serve as a cutting reminder of how much has changed since Jake has been back in your life. You’ve hated peonies ever since he left.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice Jungwon coming in through the hallway with his suitcase behind him. He stops when he sees the flowers and then looks up at you.

“I would’ve known to get you lilies,” he comments, his voice cutting through your reverie. “Unlike Jake.”

You’re pulled out of your thoughts and make eye contact with Jungwon. It’s silent for a second as you take him in, noting the travel weariness in his eyes.

“How was Korea?” you ask tentatively.

He’s vague and blunt with his answer. “Fine.”

You shift on your feet, feeling the weight of the unspoken tension between you. “Did you have a good Chuseok?”

Jungwon nods, then looks at the peonies again before his gaze returns to you. “Jake doesn’t know anything about you,” he says, his tone sharp.

Before you can respond, he sidesteps you and enters his dorm, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You stare after him, the hurt in his words lingering in the air. Slowly, you bend down to pick up the bouquet. Carrying the peonies inside your dorm, you can’t help but think about how much has changed and how complicated everything has become. You place the flowers on the counter, staring at them for a moment before you begin unpacking your groceries.

Determined to keep yourself preoccupied, you dive into cleaning the entire dorm. You scrub the floors, dust the shelves, and organize every corner until everything is spotless and in perfect order. The physical activity helps clear your mind, but the lingering thoughts and feelings remain just below the surface.

As you finish wiping down the kitchen counter, your phone buzzes with a text. It’s from Avi.

[November 30th, 7:53 PM]

[avi]: hey, can you meet me at snell? i forgot my key :p

[you]: yeah what room number?

[avi]: 0119

Grabbing your keys, you head for the door. Just as you’re about to leave, another text comes in. This time, it’s from Jake.

[November 30th, 7:55 PM]

[jake]: did you receive my gift? :D

You pause, looking back at the peonies on the counter. After a moment of contemplation, you walk over to them, pick them up, and dump them in the trash. You text Jake back.

[November 30th, 7:57 PM]

[you]: yes, they’re beautiful. thank you.

With that, you leave your dorm, locking the door behind you. As you make your way to the classroom to meet Avi, you try to push the confusion and hurt to the back of your mind.

When you arrive, Avi is waiting by the door, looking relieved to see you. “Thank you so much for coming. I can’t believe I forgot my key.”

“It’s no problem,” you reply, handing her the spare key you’ve brought along.

Avi takes the key but doesn't move to grab her things right away. Instead, she looks at you with an expression of concern. “Hey, I’m really sorry... for everything. I love you, you know that, right?”

You furrow your brow in confusion. “Of course I know that. Why are you saying this now?”

Before you can react, Avi gives you a gentle but firm shove, pushing you into the classroom. The door slams shut behind you, and you hear the unmistakable sound of it being locked. You whirl around, banging on the door. “Avi! What the hell?”

From the other side of the door, you hear Avi’s voice, firm and resolute. “You’re not allowed to leave until you make amends with Jungwon.”

“What?” you shout, turning back to face the room. Your eyes land on Jungwon, who is sitting at one of the desks, lazily twirling a pencil between his fingers. The sight of him only heightens your agitation.

You bang on the door again. “Avi, let me out! This isn’t funny.”

Beomgyu’s face appears in the small window of the door. “No can do. We’re tired of you talking about how much you miss Jungwon and tired of him asking about you. You two need to hurry up and make up.”

The weight of their words sinks in as you slowly turn back to Jungwon, who has now stopped playing with the pencil and is watching you with a guarded expression. The tension in the room is palpable, and for a moment, neither of you speaks.

Finally, you break the silence. “Jungwon, this is ridiculous. We don’t have to do this.”

Jungwon raises an eyebrow. “Do you really think they’ll let us out if we don’t?”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. “I’m sorry, okay? For everything. I know I hurt you, and I’m really, really sorry.”

Jungwon’s expression remains neutral, but his eyes reveal the hurt and anger he still feels. “It’s not that simple.”

“I know,” you say softly, taking a tentative step towards him. “I’ve been a terrible friend. I got caught up in everything with Jake and neglected the people who matter most to me. I hate that I did that to you.”

Jungwon looks down at the pencil in his hand, spinning it slowly. “It’s more than that. You led me on and had me think we could ever be something.”

Your heart sinks at his words. “Jungwon, I never meant to lead you on. I didn’t realize how you felt until it was too late.”

He scoffs, finally looking up at you. “How could you not realize? I was always there for you, always trying to show you how much I cared. But you were too wrapped up in yourself to see it.”

You feel a flare of defensiveness rise within you. “Jungwon, I told you from the start that I didn’t do relationships. You knew that about me.”

Jungwon’s eyes narrow. “Then what was the point in telling me at the party you were ready to move on? If you knew you still didn’t want to date, why give me the false hope?”

You falter, his words hitting harder than you expected. “I…I thought I was ready.”

He shakes his head, frustration evident. “But you weren’t. And in the process, you played with my feelings. Do you know how confusing and hurtful that is?”

“I’m sorry, Jungwon,” you say, your voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to give you false hope. I genuinely meant what I said at the party! I wasn’t expecting Jake to come back into my life.”

Jungwon looks at you, his expression hard to read. “So, what now? You just expect me to forget everything and be okay with being your second choice?”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I just want you to understand that I was confused. I never meant to hurt you, Jungwon. I care about you so much.”

“Caring about someone isn’t enough,” he says quietly, his voice tinged with sadness.

A heavy silence settles between you, thick with unresolved tension. Jungwon breaks it with a question that slices through the air. “Why Jake?”

You look up, startled. “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t know you like I do,” Jungwon continues, his voice raw. “You’re not the same girl he grew up with. You’ve changed, and he hasn’t been here to see that.”

You open your mouth, but no words come out. Finally, you manage to say, “he’s my first love.”

“That doesn’t mean he has to be your only love,” Jungwon counters, taking a step closer. His eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that makes your heart race.

Before you can respond, he steps even closer, his breath warm against your skin. He’s so close you can feel the heat radiating off him. For a moment, it feels like he’s about to kiss you, but then your phone rings, breaking the moment.

You glance at the screen: it’s Jake. Jungwon’s eyes flicker to the phone and back to you, pleading. “Don’t answer it.”

You hesitate but then silence the call, your heart pounding in your chest. Jungwon’s expression softens, and he reaches up to caress your cheek. “You deserve someone who knows you inside and out. Someone who’s been there through everything. I’m that someone.”

His words hang in the air, and before you can process them, he leans in and kisses you. It’s gentle at first, a question rather than a demand. You respond, your arms wrapping around his neck as the kiss deepens, your emotions swirling together in a mix of confusion, guilt, and longing.

When you finally pull away, you’re both breathless. The weight of what just happened settles over you. Jungwon searches your eyes, his thumb still tracing your cheek. “I love you,” he whispers. “I’ve always loved you.”

You stand there, your heart torn between the familiarity of your past and the promise of your future. The sound of your phone vibrating with another call from Jake is a distant echo as you and Jungwon stare at each other, caught in a moment that feels like it could change everything.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” you say, your voice shaking.

Jungwon shrugs, his eyes unwavering. “I don’t feel bad about it.”

You swallow hard, the weight of his words settling over you. “Jungwon, this isn’t fair. I’m so confused right now.”

He takes a deep breath, his gaze softening. “I’m serious about you. I’ve always been. I want you to give us a chance.”

His words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. You’re once again faced with the ultimatum: Jake or Jungwon. The pressure feels unbearable, your heart torn in two directions. Before you can respond, there’s a loud knock on the door.

“Have you two made up yet?” Beomgyu’s voice calls from the other side, filled with impatience.

You and Jungwon exchange a look, the weight of the unspoken words between you. You shake your head, unable to bring yourself to lie. But Jungwon pulls away from you and steps forward, his hand brushing against yours as he replies, “Yeah, we’ve made up.”

The door opens, and Avi and Beomgyu peer in, looking between the two of you. Jungwon gives you one last look, longing swimming in his eyes, before he steps past them and leaves the room. 

Your phone starts ringing again, Jake’s name flashing on the screen. You stare at it, the decision you need to make feeling more daunting than ever. As the door closes behind Jungwon, you’re left standing there, the sound of the phone’s persistent ring echoing in the silence.

Avi steps forward, concern etched on her face. “How do you feel? How did things go?”

You take a deep breath. “We... we kissed.”

Both Avi and Beomgyu’s eyes widen in shock. “You what?” Avi exclaims, her voice a mixture of surprise and concern.

Beomgyu, recovering first, gives you a thoughtful look. “Are you going to tell Jake?”

Avi cuts in, “You don’t have to.”

Beomgyu raises a brow at her. “Seriously,”

Avi shrugs, “what? I support women’s right and wrongs.”

You hesitate, the previous question hanging heavy in the air. “I... I don’t know what I’m going to do,” you admit. “Everything’s so complicated.”

Beomgyu sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, as much as I've grown to like Jake, I’ve always thought Jungwon was the right one for you. He understands you in a way Jake never will.”

Avi elbows him lightly, shooting him a warning look. “Beomgyu, that’s not helping.” She turns to you, her eyes soft with sympathy. “But... I kind of agree. You and Jungwon just…click.”

You look between your two friends, feeling more conflicted than ever. “I don’t know what to do,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I care about both of them, but...”

Avi steps closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Take your time. You don’t have to decide right now. Just...think about what makes you happiest, what feels right in your heart.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “I just don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Avi looks at you with understanding. “Sometimes, no matter what you choose, someone might get hurt.”

Your phone rings again, cutting through the tense silence. Beomgyu glances at the screen and then at you. “It’s Jake. You should answer.”

Hesitant, you pick up the call. “Hey, Jake.”

“Hi baby!,” he says, his voice filled with concern. “Are you okay? You sounded off earlier.”

“I’m fine,” you lie, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just busy studying.”

He hums, seemingly convinced. “Okay. Are you free for a date tomorrow?”

A twinge of guilt strikes you, but you push it aside. “Sure, I’d love that.”

You exchange a few more pleasantries before hanging up. Once you turn off your phone, Avi immediately asks, “What was that about?”

You sigh, feeling the weight of the situation. “Jake wants to go on a date tomorrow.”

Avi nods thoughtfully. “Remember, you don’t have to tell Jake anything until you’re ready.”

Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at her. “Again, seriously?”

Avi shrugs. “What? Women’s rights and wrongs, remember?”

You can’t help but smile a little at her words, but the smile quickly fades. “I don’t know what I’ll do,” you admit quietly.

Beomgyu comfortingly pats your back, more serious now. “Being upfront now might be hard, but it’ll save a lot of heartache later on.”

Avi then adds, “Or you could try being single for a bit. I promise it’s not all that bad.”

The three of you laugh, the tension easing slightly. Avi’s joke, though lighthearted, seems to resonate with all of you. 

“Yeah, maybe I’ll take that under consideration,” you say, the weight on your shoulders feeling a bit lighter.

Beomgyu grins. “Hey, it’s always an option. Plus, more time for group hangouts.”

Avi nods enthusiastically. “Exactly! We could use more friend time without any of the boy drama.”

You chuckle, appreciating their attempts to cheer you up. “Thanks, guys. I really needed this.”

“Anytime,” Avi says, linking her arm with yours. “Now, let’s get back to the dorm. We’ve got snacks and a Netflix queue waiting for us.”

Beomgyu wraps an arm around both of you, guiding you back. “And maybe some ice cream? I feel like this conversation calls for ice cream.”

You laugh again, feeling grateful for your friends.

“Do you have a lot of finals coming up?” Jake asks, trying to keep the conversation light.

The two of you are currently at Naksan, an expensive new KBBQ restaurant that opened up near your campus. Jake had wanted to take you out sightseeing but given the cold Boston weather the two of you couldn’t stay out long so he decided what better way to warm up than sizzling hot meat.

The atmosphere is lively, filled with the sizzle of meat on grills and the hum of conversation. Jake tries to make small talk, you’ve been out of it all day lost in your head. His eyes search your face for any hint of what’s bothering you.

You shake your head slightly, offering a small smile. “No, only a few. Nothing too overwhelming.”

He nods, turning the meat on the grill. “What about winter break? Do you have any plans?”

You shrug, avoiding his gaze. “Not sure yet. I’m not going back to Australia because the break isn’t that long.”

Jake’s face lights up a bit. “Jay and Sunghoon were talking about renting a cabin over the break. They thought it would be fun if you and your friends joined us.”

“That sounds fun,” you reply half-heartedly. “I’m sure Avi and Beomgyu would be down for that.”

Jake seems to notice your lack of enthusiasm but presses on. “What about inviting Jungwon too? The more, the merrier, right?”

You don’t respond, knowing that Jungwon would never agree to be around Jake. The silence between you grows heavy, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

Jake places some grilled meat on your plate, watching you closely. “Are you okay?” he asks, concern evident in his voice.

Instead of answering, you look up at him and ask, “What’s my favorite color?”

Jake looks confident but confused as he answers, “Black.”

You shake your head. “That was my favorite color two years ago because it’s all you would ever wear. It’s pink now.”

Jake nods, trying to hide his surprise. “Okay, I’ll make a mental note of that.”

He places more meat on the grill, but you’re not done. “What are my hobbies?” you ask.

Jake is at a loss, hesitating before guessing, “Baking?”

You shake your head again. “Photography. Crochet. Painting. All things I started doing once you left to get my life back on track because all I ever knew was you. I didn’t have an identity when you were around. I did it so I could forget you.”

Jake clenches the tongs tighter, his jaw setting as he places new meat on the grill. “What is this about?” he asks, his voice strained.

You look down at your plate, feeling the weight of the conversation. “A lot has changed since you’ve been in my life. I’m starting to realize that maybe I need to figure out who I am without you.”

Jake looks at you, confusion and frustration etched on his face. “What are you talking about? I’m still the same Jake you’ve known since we were kids.”

You shake your head firmly but gently. “No. You’re not. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but I think we’ve been pretending that nothing has changed when everything has changed.”

Jake’s agitation grows. “What are you trying to get at?”

You try to calm him down, your voice softening. “Maybe we rushed things? Maybe we needed time to actually get to know each other again before jumping into a relationship.”

“Where is this coming from?” Jake demands, his voice rising.

Taking a deep breath, you meet his gaze. “I finally talked to Jungwon. He helped me realize just how much I’ve changed.” You avoid mentioning the kiss, knowing it would only escalate things.

Jake’s anger flares. “This is our relationship, not ours plus Jungwon’s. Why are you letting him get in between what we have.”

A light scoff escapes your lips. “Within the past two weeks, I’ve been slipping into old habits. I’ve considered transferring schools for your sake and sobriety. I picked you over Jungwon without any explanation. Every decision I’ve made since you came back revolves around you in some way.”

Jake, absolutely livid, leans forward, his eyes burning with anger. “I never asked you to do any of that. It’s not my fault you have a savior complex.”

His words cut deep, and the air between you becomes thick with tension, the restaurant's noise fading into the background. Your anger simmers beneath the surface, and when Jake challenges you with his accusation, you can't hold back.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Your voice rises, laced with incredulity and hurt. “Savior complex? I’ve only ever loved and supported you!”

Jake’s jaw tightens, his frustration evident. “No, you’ve only ever tried to fix me! I don’t need to be fixed! Spoiler alert, not everyone can be as perfect as you, ____!”

His words hit you like a blow, but you refuse to back down. “I’m not perfect, Jake. I never claimed to be. But if you can’t see how much I’ve tried to make this work, then maybe we shouldn’t be together.”

Jake’s expression hardens, his voice low and cutting. “So, what now? You’re just going to walk away?”

“Why are we even together?” Your voice trembles with anger and betrayal.

You lock eyes with Jake, the heat of your emotions mirrored in his gaze. The silence between you is heavy with unspoken truths and shattered illusions. With a surge of indignation, you push back from the table, your chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“I can’t believe I fell for your lies again.” The words spill from your lips, each one dripping with bitterness and disappointment.

Without another glance at Jake, you turn and walk away, leaving him sitting there, his anger and confusion swirling around him like a storm. The weight of your decision hangs heavy on your shoulders, but deep down, you know it’s the right one.

Outside the restaurant, the cold air hits you sharply, intensifying the pain in your chest. You navigate the streets with blurred vision, tears streaming down your face until you find yourself standing outside Jungwon's door. You hesitate for a moment, but the need for comfort outweighs any doubts.

When Jungwon opens the door, his confusion is evident in his sleep-ruffled appearance. His messy hair and casual attire contrast sharply with the intensity in his eyes as he takes in your tear-streaked face. Without a word, he steps aside, allowing you to enter.

You don't hesitate this time. You throw yourself into his arms, seeking comfort in his embrace. Jungwon holds you gently, his hands soothing circles on your back. "What's wrong?" he asks softly, concern lacing his voice.

Between sobs, you manage to recount the disastrous dinner with Jake, the accusations, and the painful realization that your relationship with him might have been built on illusions. Jungwon listens in silence, his expression a mix of understanding and restrained frustration.

"H-he said I have a savior complex! Can you believe that!?"

Jungwon stares at you blankly as you rage on.

"I love you too much to stand here and listen to you cry about Jake," He finally says, his voice tinged with agitation. "I warned you, told you to decide, and yet you ran into his arms anyway. Now he's broken your heart yet again."

You sniffle, clinging to him desperately. His words are like a bitter pill, hard to swallow but painfully true. "I refuse to be the person you come to pick up the broken pieces of your heart every time you let someone else break it," Jungwon continues, his voice firm but pained. "I want to be the one who holds your heart, who gets to love you and treat you right."

Your heart sinks at his words, realization settling in like a heavy weight. "Jungwon, please," you plead, your voice shaky. Not even sure yourself what it is you’re begging for.

He pulls away gently, his eyes searching yours. "I can't subject myself to standing here and listening to you go on about another man," he says softly. "For my own sake, I need you to leave."

Shock courses through you, leaving you speechless. You try to protest, to explain, but Jungwon remains resolute. "Don't come back until you really know what you want," he says firmly. "Otherwise, leave me alone."

With those words ringing in your ears, you stand there, grappling with the magnitude of his decision and your own emotions. Reluctantly, you turn away, leaving Jungwon behind, the ache in your chest now compounded by regret and uncertainty.

As you walk back to your dorm, the weight of everything crashes down on you. It’s not just the fight with Jake or Jungwon's firm stance; it’s the realization of how selfish you’ve been, stringing Jungwon along and using him as your emotional crutch. He’s always been there, loving you without any conditions, and you’ve taken that for granted.

Each step feels heavier than the last, the cold hallway air biting at your skin as you replay Jungwon’s words in your mind. You’ve leaned on him for so long, taking his unconditional support and affection as a given. He was your safe haven, the one person you could always turn to without fear of judgment. But in doing so, you’ve hurt him deeply, using his love as a safety net without offering the same in return.

When you finally close the door to your dorm, the tears you’ve been holding back flood out, and you collapse against the door, your sobs echoing in the empty space. The full weight of your actions, the hurt you’ve caused, and the pain you’ve inflicted on someone who means so much to you crashes down, leaving you feeling raw and exposed.

The sound of your anguish draws Avi out of her room, and she rushes to your side, her face etched with worry. “What happened?” she asks softly, kneeling beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You struggle to get the words out, your voice broken by sobs. “I’ve been such a horrible person,” you cry, the realization choking you. “I’ve been using Jungwon, leading him on while I figured out my feelings for Jake. I’ve been so unfair to him.”

Avi sighs, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “At least you’re self-aware?” she says quietly, her words both a comfort and a sting. “Maybe for now you need to learn how to be comfortable with being alone.”

You nod through your tears, the truth of her words settling deep within you. “I’ve been so selfish,” you whisper. “He’s always been there for me, and I’ve taken him for granted. I never realized how much I was hurting him.”

Avi’s eyes are filled with sympathy, but she doesn’t sugarcoat the reality. “You need to give him space and time to heal,” she says. “And you need to figure out who you are and what you really want without any guys in the picture. You can’t keep bouncing between Jake and Jungwon. It’s not fair to either of them, and it’s not fair to yourself.”

You sniff, wiping at your tears, the weight of her words pressing down on you. “I know,” you admit. “I just… I don’t know how to start.”

Avi pulls you into a tighter hug, her voice gentle but firm. “You start by letting Jungwon go and focusing on yourself. You need to stop using him as a crutch and start dealing with your feelings head-on.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. For Jungwon’s sake, and for your own, you need to let go. As you sit there, leaning against the door with Avi by your side, you resolve to take the first step. It’s time to stop running from your feelings and face the consequences of your actions. It’s time to let Jungwon heal and to finally figure out who you are without relying on anyone else.

Sunday | Present Day

A week has come to pass and it's now December 8th. The days have blurred together as you've submerged yourself in studying for finals, avoiding any interactions with Beomgyu and Avi. You’re up before the sun, attending classes, and then disappearing into the library until the dead of night. Jake’s reached out a few times, begging to see you and apologies for how he acted but they all remain unanswered. You don't know how to approach that conversation. Jungwon, on the other hand, hasn’t texted at all, and that silence cuts deeper than you’d care to admit.

It's 5 a.m., and you're trying to sneak out to the library yet again, hoping to escape unnoticed. But as you step into the living room, you’re startled to find Avi sitting on the couch, waiting for you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asks, her voice cutting through the early morning silence.

You freeze, caught off guard. It’s almost comical, being in trouble for studying too much. But Avi’s expression tells you this is no joke.

“Avi, I... I was just going to the library,” you stammer, clutching your books tighter.

Avi stands, her eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve been nothing but patient with you, giving you space and time to figure things out. But it’s clear that you’re just running away from everything.”

“Avi, I’m just trying to focus on my finals,” you protest weakly.

She shakes her head, her frustration evident. “Bullshit, you’re using your finals as an excuse to avoid dealing with your problems. I’m sick of you being so selfish.”

Her words sting, but you know she’s right. You’ve been hiding, avoiding the difficult conversations you need to have.

“All eight of us are going on the ski trip for winter break next week,” Avi continues, her tone firm. “And you need to get yourself together before then. There won’t be peace or fun if nearly half the house is beefing.”

You look at her in shock. “Jungwon agreed to go?”

“Yes,” Avi confirms, her gaze unwavering. “But that doesn’t mean he’s forgiven you. You need to talk to him, and to Jake. It’s clear you care for both of them, but you’ve handled this terribly. They’re both humans with real emotions, and it’s not fair to keep them in the dark.”

You swallow hard, the guilt washing over you. “I understand.”

“Do you?” Avi presses, her eyes piercing. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t be running away to the library every chance you get. You need to do better. For their sake and for yours.”

Tears well up in your eyes, the weight of her words sinking in. “I’m sorry, Avi. I just... I don’t know how to fix this.”

Avi’s expression softens slightly, but her resolve remains. “You start by being honest with them, and with yourself. Talk to Jake, talk to Jungwon. Tell them how you feel, and let them decide what they want to do. You can’t control their reactions, but you can at least give them the truth.”

You nod, wiping away a tear. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Avi takes a step closer, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I love you, but you need to do better. This isn’t just about you. It’s about them, too. They deserve honesty.”

“I know,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

Avi pulls you into a hug, her voice gentle but firm. “You’re going to get through this, but you need to stop running. Don’t put it off any longer.”

She pulls back, looking at you with a mixture of love and teasing. “I can’t believe you’ve made me actually like Jake,” she says with a mock grimace. “Seriously, you’ve managed to make me sympathize with that guy. It’s almost impressive.”

You let out a shaky laugh, the tension easing a bit. “I guess that’s one way to measure my impact.”

Avi smiles, giving you a playful nudge. “I’m not that angry with you, you know. Just frustrated because I know you’re capable of handling this better.”

“Thanks, Avi,” you say, your voice filled with gratitude. “I really appreciate you looking out for me.”

“Always,” she replies, her tone softening. “Now, go get some sleep, I know you’re miserable with all the studying you’ve been doing.”

You both laugh before you nod, “I will.”

Avi gives you one last encouraging squeeze before retreating back to her room. As she disappears behind her door, you stand there for a moment, thinking of what to do.

With a deep breath, you head back to your room and pull out your phone.

[December 8th, 5:27 AM]

[you]: are you free later today to talk? 

Once the message is sent you toss your phone aside and get back under your covers letting the warm embrace of sleep take you once more.

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏___

knock ! knock

You look up from your seated position on the couch once your mind registers the knocks on your front door. You walk towards the door to let them in. You do a once over in the mirror and flatten out any wrinkles in your dress before opening the door.

Jake stands there, looking slightly awkward, hands shoved into his pockets. His eyes meet yours with a mix of hesitation and what seems to be acceptance. 

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey,” you reply, stepping aside to let him in.

Jake takes a seat on the couch and looks around the room, his eyes scanning every corner as if searching for something familiar. “Are we alone?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.

You nod. “Yeah, Avi is out hanging with Beomgyu.”

Jake nods, playing with his fingers, a nervous habit you recognize. Your fingers itch to hold his hand. The silence between you is thick, almost suffocating. Both of you open your mouths at the same time, starting to speak before stopping and laughing awkwardly.

“You go first,” you encourage, offering him a small, reassuring smile.

Jake takes a deep breath. “I’m really sorry for how I reacted the other day,” he begins, his voice sincere. “I didn’t handle it well, and I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. You were bringing up genuine concerns in our relationship, and I got defensive.”

You nod, listening intently as he continues.

“It stung, hearing about Jungwon. It felt like he took my spot in your life while I was gone. But you’re right—we have changed. We’re not the same people we were back then.”

You bite your lip, feeling the weight of his words. When he finishes, you take a deep breath and gather the courage to say what you need to. “Jake, I kissed Jungwon.”

Jake looks taken aback, but there’s no anger in his eyes, just a sadness that seems to have been lingering for a while. He nods slowly, almost as if he expected it. “What now?” he asks, his voice soft.

You sigh, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I appreciate your apology, and I’m sorry for kissing Jungwon. But I think it’s best if we end things here.”

Jake swallows hard at your words but he doesn’t say anything back, he lets you continue.

“A part of my heart will always belong to you, and I’ll always love you, but we’re different people now. It was naive of us to think we could just jump into a relationship without taking the time to get to know each other again, without being friends first.”

Jake’s eyes fill with tears, and despite his efforts to hide them, a few escape down his cheeks. “I understand,” he says, his voice trembling. “I’ll always love you, too. If anything changes for you, I’ll always be here.”

You’re both crying now, the emotional weight of the moment almost too much to bear. You stand up, and he follows suit, wrapping you in a tight hug. The embrace is bittersweet, filled with love and loss.

After a few moments, you pull back slightly, looking into his eyes. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? I’d still love to be friends.”

Jake nods and smiles, his tears still flowing. “Me too.”

You see him out, giving him one last hug in the hallway. As he rounds the corner, Jungwon comes into view. He sees you wiping away your tears as Jake sniffs and clears his throat before leaving. Jungwon pauses, watching the exchange.

You manage a gentle smile at Jungwon. “Would you like to come in?” you ask softly.

Jungwon stares at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nods, following you back into your room. The silence is heavy, but it’s not the same as it was with Jake. This silence almost feels…hopeful? Maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance for something different between you.

As you close the door behind you both, Jungwon stands awkwardly in the center of your room, unsure of what to do or say. “Are you okay?” he asks finally, his voice gentle.

You manage a smile, though tears still linger in your eyes. “I’m okay,” you assure him softly. “Just... processing everything.”

You motion for him to take a seat on the couch while you step into your room to grab something. You return with a small gift bag, decorated with a simple blue ribbon. “Here,” you say quietly, handing it to him.

Jungwon looks down at the bag, then up at you, confusion flickering across his face. “What’s this?” he asks, his voice filled with curiosity.

You take a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “It’s not much,” you start, your voice catching slightly. “But I wanted to give you something. A start towards... a new beginning.”

He cautiously opens the bag and peers inside, finding cherry gummies, old Polaroids of the two of you from happier times, a sheep-shaped keychain, a gift card to Tatte, and other small trinkets that hold significance. Jungwon lifts the Polaroids, his eyes flickering over the captured moments of laughter and shared adventures.

“What’s all this for?” he asks softly, still trying to process your sudden gesture of affection.

You swallow, gathering your thoughts. “I know it’s not enough to fix everything I’ve done,” you begin, your voice earnest. “But each of these... they represent moments from our friendship that I took for granted. The cherry gummies for the late-night talks and movie nights, the Polaroids for the memories we shared, the keychain because you’re like a little sheep, and I have a matching one on my keys...”

Jungwon listens quietly, his expression unreadable.

“The gift card,” you continue, “is my way of paying forward all those times you woke up at the crack of dawn to get me croissants from the French bakery. I never properly thanked you for that.��

He finally looks up at you, his eyes searching yours. There’s a mix of emotions in his gaze—confusion, surprise, and perhaps a hint of cautious hope.

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. “Jungwon, I’ve been blind,” you confess, your voice trembling slightly. “I had something amazing right in front of me, and I... I blew it because I was stuck in my past. I took advantage of your kindness, made you a second choice instead of treating you like you deserved.”

Jungwon remains silent, processing your words.

“You were the one who loved me without conditions,” you continue, your voice cracking with emotion. “You were patient with me, showed me what it’s like to be loved deeply by someone who’s willing to brave the pain of not having that love returned.”

Still, Jungwon says nothing, but he listens intently, his expression softening slightly.

“I ended things with Jake,” you admit, a small smile tugging at your lips through the tears. “I see now that we were never meant to be anything more than each other’s first love.”

Jungwon’s eyes widen in surprise at your revelation. “You... let Jake go?” he asks softly, as if needing confirmation.

You nod, your smile widening just a fraction. “It was time,” you say with a shrug, though the decision still weighs heavily on your heart.

He takes a moment to absorb this new piece of information before speaking again. “And what about us?” he asks quietly, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

You take a step closer to him, closing the distance between you. “If you’re still willing,” you begin, your voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach, “I would love to try again. To take things slow, as friends, while I figure out who I am and what I want. And when we’re both ready, maybe... we can try our hand at dating.”

Jungwon stares at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, slowly, a small smile spreads across his face—the kind of smile that reaches his eyes and warms your heart.

“I’d like that,” he finally says, his voice filled with sincerity.

You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief flooding through you. “Thank you,” you whisper, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

Jungwon steps forward, wrapping you in a warm embrace. You melt into his arms, feeling a sense of homecoming you hadn’t realized you’d been missing.

“I’m sorry, Jungwon,” you say again, this time from the bottom of your heart. “I’ve been such a shitty friend. Selfish. But I want to do better. I want to make things right.”

He pulls back slightly to look at you, his gaze tender. “You already are,” he says softly. “Let’s take it slow. Figure things out together.”

You nod, tears of relief and happiness streaming down your cheeks. For the first time in weeks, you feel as though you’re finally doing something right.

As you stand there in Jungwon's embrace, your heart feels lighter, Jake was your first—a boy whose love had once been the center of your universe. Even now, a part of you will always carry him with you. You know you will love him to the ends of the earth, cherishing the memories you shared, the lessons learned, and the person you became because of him.

But as you look at Jungwon, holding you with a warmth and gentleness that feels like coming home, you realize that your heart has found room for another. Yang Jungwon. The first man to show you the true meaning of selfless love. His patience, his unwavering support, and the way he saw you—the real you—without conditions or expectations. He has taught you that love doesn't demand to be earned or proven; it simply exists, patiently waiting for you to embrace it.

You’ll forever be grateful for him. For his kindness and understanding, for the quiet strength he gave you when you were too lost to find your own. In his eyes, you see a future where love is not a battlefield, but a sanctuary.

Jake will always be a cherished part of your story, a chapter that shaped you in ways you’re still discovering. But Jungwon is the present and future, the man who holds your heart now, showing you that love can be both enduring and gentle. 

With Jake, you learned the passion of first love; with Jungwon, you’re learning the depth of true, unconditional love. And as you stand here, wrapped in Jungwon's arms, you know that while parts of your heart belong to Jake, you will now and forever carry Jungwon in your heart too. This new chapter, with its promises of understanding and growth, feels like the beginning of something beautiful—a journey towards a love that is as healing as it is profound.

[tarot-by-e11e]

PAC: "What do you need to let go of?" (call-out from your guides)

"Once we rid ourselves of the shackles of our own self-imposed limitations, we will be able to soar higher and further than the birds in the sky." - said by me

(reminder: this is for entertainment purposes only. Only take what resonates) Choose with mic will lovingly call you out~

Pile 1:

Pile 1: 8 of Coins, Judgement, 7 of Cups, 3 of Cups

Right off the bat, the first phrase I heard was, “unrealistic high standards”. Oomph. *nervously looking away*

Pile 1, by any chance, are you known as the “resident heartbreaker” in your community because of the trail of broken hearts you leave behind? It’s great to have standards but you need also to remember that nobody’s perfect, not even you dear pile 1.  There’s this journal prompt(?) I’ve encountered before about listing down all the characteristics you want in your ideal partner, then sitting down and reflecting if your ideal would wish to have a partner like you. It’s such a humbling yet eye-opening journal prompt TBH. Don’t expect the best if you won’t show up as the best version of yourself. Like… if you want the best, you have to be the best version of yourself as well.

What you also need to let go of Pile 1 is your hyper-self-awareness. Granted that it’s great knowing what your strengths and weaknesses are but there is such a thing as too much. I heard, “A healthy balance is key” in your case. Sorry for the call out Pile 1 but from the second card as well, your perfectionistic tendencies are slowly making themselves known. You might have these “all-or-nothing” tendencies, like a “black-or-white” mindset sometimes. It seems you have high standards for others and yourself, so you tend to intellectualize your feelings instead of feeling them. Again, apologies for the call-out Pile 1.

The last card feels like a desperation for external validation. Like, you feel you always need someone to impress or win over to feel like you’re good enough. There’s this unworthiness wound that needs to be addressed. Also, chronic people-pleasing tendencies to the point of immediate self-sacrificial tendencies. Pile 1, you need to learn to let go of this unhealthy thirst for external validation. Because the moment you lose your “audience”, you feel lost and listless. You need to remember that you are worthy of love, happiness, and success in life because you exist.

Pile 2:

Pile 2: 2 of Cups, Tower, 10 of Swords, Strength

I’m saying sorry in advance Pile 2 but the first thing I heard was, “You need to learn to be happy alone.” Pile 2 either is the type that can’t stand being single or is a hopeless romantic that has more fictional crushes than actual human relationships. (Apologies to all the romance genre bookworms all over the world). This pile falls under those two categories~

So for the serial daters, it seems that you need to take a bit of a break/pause and assess what do you want in a partner, your non-negotiables and negotiables. You are asked to don’t say to every person that asks you out. Also heard that, don’t date just because you’re bored, lonely, or have a lot of time to spare. Basically, you are called to only get into a relationship for the right reasons.

Now for the hopeless romantic who prefers fictional men to real men, I understand that you might have heard stories or had experiences that made you always choose the bear every single time. Those horror stories are an unfortunate reality for people into men. But I can’t, in my good conscience as having nephews, say that all men are despicable human beings. Granted, not all men but still they’re men. So… what I’m saying here is, that your fictional boyfriends would want you to actually experience happiness through real human interactions too. So yup, keep your guard up to those who wear their red flags with pride, but do try to give a chance to good men out there.

What you also need to let go of Pile 2 is your destructive coping mechanisms whenever you feel triggered by your traumas. Yes, I’m sorry to have it break it to you. You kinda felt this would eventually be mentioned, right? You are aware of your own destructive tendencies when triggered. You are aware that you unintentionally hurt your loved ones whenever they trigger you. And you also know you want to stop hurting people in the process. If therapy is expensive, try searching for somatic exercises and eft tapping. You don’t always have to swallow a pill to get better at managing your anger issues and self-sabotaging tendencies. You just have to give yourself a safe space to be able to honor and validate your feelings/pain/trauma. Treat yourself as gentle and compassionate as possible, like you would a child who’s just learning how to walk and talk.

Lastly, you are called to let go of your arrogance. I’m really sorry for the call-out Pile 2 but the cards have spoken. It’s great to know within yourself that you can walk your talk but you might have the tendency to bulldoze anyone that crosses your path. This might even cause an issue with authority figures. There’s a fine line between arrogance and confidence that you need to learn to master. It’ll help with the harmonious dynamics between you and your coworkers.

Pile 3:

Pile 3: 10 of Wands, 6 of Coins, Queen of Coins, Wheel of Fortune

Pile 3 feels like my burnt-out workaholic pile from the get-go. Being burdened by too much on your plate. Pile 3 might actually tend to take on other people’s problems. I understand you want to help out but you need to understand that you have limits too. You are asked to let go of the burdens that aren’t actually yours to begin with. You’re also asked to reprioritize your needs and responsibilities first before even considering helping someone else with their problems. I kept hearing, “You can’t pour out of an empty cup.”

Why does it feel like Pile 3 is my overly giving and generous pile? Sweetheart, please… I get how you want to help others out and give whenever you can. Just don’t forget to keep some for yourself, okay? I’m not asking you to stop being generous. I’m asking you to discern who genuinely needs your generosity and who is abusing your kind and loving heart. Unfortunately, not everyone deserves you and your generous heart.

Pile 3, your pile really has me crying and whimpering, “Please stop letting people walk all over you.” No wonder y’all are burnt out, you are the most loving, generous, and nurturing souls in the world to the point of being easy prey for abusive, manipulative narcissists. I’m begging you Pile 3, discernment and boundaries. You’re so nurturing and caring to the point of ignoring someone’s red flags. So… you have to actually learn how to have healthy boundaries and practice discernment. Don’t entertain the idea/potential of a person and see them for who they really are.

The last card feels like you need to let go of being too much of a “going with the flow” to the point of not taking charge of your own life, Pile 3. I understand you’re adaptable and know how to roll with the punches, but it also feels like a drifter with no roots. Always letting yourself be carried wherever the wind blows, can be interpreted as letting people dictate how you should live your life. It seems that pile 3 tends to take a passive approach to living your life. I understand that people who are of authority claim they want what’s best for you, but that’s what’s best based on THEIR values and preferences, not YOURS. So… please Pile 3, take the time to figure out what do you actually want to do with your life, in your own way. You are not just someone’s child, not just someone’s sibling/parent, not just someone’s friend/classmate/coworker. You are your own person, with a heart that feels and a mind that can think for themselves.

Pile 4:

Pile 4: 2 of Coins, 6 of Swords, Knight of Swords, Chariot

The first card of Pile 4 feels like you need to let go of only prioritizing your needs while disregarding your desires. It’s great to know how to be practical and resourceful, but you tend to only focus on nurturing the physical and basic needs, you tend to forget your emotional needs too. You tend to forget that you can let yourself enjoy your life while you work hard to provide for yourself and your family. I’m hearing, “self-care” is something you need to prioritize. Don’t just say, “Oh, I can just enjoy the fruits of my labor later” then realize your knees can’t even be stable enough to carry your body to your bathroom. The last I heard from the first card was “Go on a vacation and treat yourself while your body is still able to live and move with ease.”

The next thing you need to let go of is your cut-off game, specifically your tendency to ghost people. It seems that Pile 4 is quite quick to cut people out of your lives without notice. It seems that pile 4 also tends to cut someone out of their life on impulse. Like, no explanation, no notice, no last goodbye. This is giving “ghosting” vibes. It’s like, the person you cut off didn’t even do anything wrong, yet pile 4 while just going ghost without a valid reason. Like, pile 4 may go ghost whenever someone is getting a bit too close to your heart and you tend to run before they even get a chance to offer any friendship/commitment. Pile 4, are you a commitment phobe?

Pile 4, what you need to let go of is your impatience. Not just towards others, but also towards yourself. The littlest inconveniences make you lose your cool quicker than a mic drop. Not everyone is capable of keeping up with your demands and requests, not even you. So please, learn to be more understanding and patient with yourself and other people. I understand that you want to just go-go-go, but you need to know that you shouldn’t bulldoze your way through life. Learn to pace yourself by taking the time to smell the roses. There’s nothing wrong about going after what you want to get done, but you just need to remember that you don’t always do everything perfectly in the first try. You too make mistakes. You too need time to learn from your mistakes and become a better version of yourself. So please, show yourself and others the same compassion and patience you wished someone would give you.

Finally, the last thing pile 4 needs to let go of is “being controlling”. I’m really sorry for this call-out Pile 4 but you must have heard this from someone else before. Just because you know what’s best and know how to do it best, it doesn’t mean you should always take the reins and just control everything and everyone to bend into your will. Your way isn’t the only way to do things. You might be surprised that there are other ways to go about a task with minimal damage and effort. So please, let go of the concept that you have to always take charge and always be the leader.

Thank you for trying out my PAC reading. Feel free to give me a feedback on how your pile resonates with you.

[olsenmyolsen]

I Can Fix Her (No Really I Can)

master list . dark master list . Sequel to imgonnagetyouback

MCU (Female Reader X Natasha Romanoff)

Summary: You and Wanda Maximoff used to be something, but now that you're with Natasha Romanoff, Wanda can't stand by and let it happen.

Word Count: 1.4K

Content: Confused/Sad/Hurt Natasha, Manipulation, Heartbreak

tagging: @alexawynters @viktoriaromanovaa @flositaa @diffidentphantom @scarlettbitchx

It had been a week since your girlfriend, Natasha Romanoff, returned from her mission.

A week since Wanda kissed you.

A week since you wanted more of Wanda.

A week since she said she was gonna get you back. One way or another.

But now here you were, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows to the courtyard in between the compound. Natasha was sat on top of a bench with her clothed legs spread and her feet firmly planted on the wooden part where most people would sit.

Natasha used to be a smoker. A habit she picked up to deal with her past lives. A habit she broke around the time you joined the team. Yet you watched as the smoke billowed out her mouth like a freight train through a small town.

Natasha shook her and looked up to the sky. Strom clouds were beginning to roll in, and you couldn't exactly see what Natasha said, but it looked like she was asking a question.

The Black Widow wasn't stupid. She's caring and loving to the right people. A true fighter. She can see the guilt and pain behind your eyes when you think she doesn't notice. She can see the turmoil in your head even if you think you were faking it.

It pains Natasha because she doesn't know what to do. Or what caused this?

If Romanoff had to guess, Wanda would be the answer.

Natasha shakes her head once more and scoffs as she takes one last drag of her cigarette before putting it out. Her mind replaying a conversation with Steve Rogers from a few months prior.

"She just got out of the relationship with Wanda. Are you sure she's someone you want to be with?" Steve was cautious with his phrasing. Natasha just took a sip of her beer as the two of them sat at a bar in the middle of the city. Josie's was the name.

A crush wasn't the exact word. But Natasha had been fascinated with you from the start. Since the day you walked through the doors of the compound. However, you were a touch closer in age to Wanda Maximoff, and Natasha still struggled with her personal mind games. But after so long, you were now single again and fresh out of the slammer of a toxic relationship everyone could see from a mile away.

"I know what I'm doing, Rogers," Natasha said as she kept her hands around the bottle—not looking at her friend.

Steve sighed. "I just don't want to see you hurt." Natasha knew Steve only wanted what was best. But to Natasha, you were it. You were supposed to be someone to change the prophecy Natasha had been handed in life.

"I know Steve. Thank you." Natasha was quiet as she looked into Steve's blue eyes. He gave her a brief smile back. "God help her." He said, Natasha knew he wasn't talking about you.

Natasha scoffed with a laugh. "Your good Lord doesn't need to lift a finger. I can fix her." Steve raised an eyebrow to Natasha's words. "No, really, I can."

"And only I can," Natasha whispered to herself just as raindrops started to land on her.

You who got tired of watching your gi- your- Natasha wallow open the glass door to the courtyard as the skies opened up. "Natasha!" You yelled as you ran towards her, taking your hoodie off and holding it up above her head. Natasha turned towards you in your Toyotathon t-shirt and smiled at that and your action.

You still care about me. Natasha thought to herself before she looked towards your eyes. She always did and always will love them. "Let's get you inside!" You spoke up as thunder cracked above you. Natasha nodded as she jumped off the bench and wrapped her arms around you.

You melted slightly against her.

You love her. You do.

As the two of you entered Natasha's room, the redhead let go of you and closed the door behind you. She then turned her green eyes towards your gaze and smiled. It was a genuine smile. "Hi," Natasha said, making you smile and chuckle. "Hi," You replied as if you were a shy teenager.

But then again, the two of you kind of were. Since Natasha came back, it was as if the two of you had learned the right steps but to different dances. And now, here, in Natasha's room, a little wet in front of the rain, the two of you felt like you were finally on the same page once more.

Natasha made her way to you and backed you up until your legs hit her bed, causing you to fall down. The action making the two of you laugh.

Before you could even speak, Natasha was on top of you. Kissing you softly with her love behind every kiss. Her need to be enough an underlying hidden meanining. When Natasha lifted her face, she smiled as she could practically see the dopamine racing through your brain.

She still had an effect on you.

She always would.

To a certain extent.

"What was that for?" You felt silly asking as you raised your hand to Natasha's cheek. Your hand so callous from your pistol tracing hearts gently on her face. "Because I love you," Natasha replied as if it was casual, but this was one of the handful of times Natasha said or would ever say it to you.

Your mouth dropped ever so slightly as Natasha grabbed your hand and locked her fingers between yours, moving them from her cheek to her lips. Kissing the pads of your fingers. "I love you too." You replied after seconds had passed.

"God help her." Rang through Natasha's mind.

She ignored it and brought her body down to yours. The taste of her lips makes you blush again. You loved the flavor. Always had.

You moved your hands further down Natasha's backside as the exchange between the two of you became more heated—a mix of lust and wanting.

Your warm fingers sent Natasha ablaze when they went below her black shirt. The contact leaving Natasha gasping as she lifted herself off you. The two of your lips darker.

I can fix her.

Natasha brought her hand to the bottom of her shirt and lifted it up and off her. Throwing it to a forgotten place on the floor. Her black bra distracting you. "Come on. It's your turn." Natasha teased as she gave you a quick peck before helping you out of your shirt. Your bare chest immediately on display.

Natasha loved it. Especially the group of freckles that danced across your left boob. Slowly, she brought her hands up to it. A whisper of a moan fell from your mouth before Natasha took your chin and pulled you into her again.

"Good girl." Natasha moaned out as your mouth ended up leaving marks of maroon on her chest and abs. You smiled into her skin. "Oh god, you're an angel for me." Natasha couldn't help but voice in sighs.

You moaned into her head as Natasha worked her down your body this time. "Oh, baby!"

Natasha smirked hearing you.

No, really, I can.

Yourblackpanties stayed hung around your ankle as Natasha spread you wider. The sight was always divine, but your taste was something Natasha had never wanted to take for granted. Yet she was a woman starved today. A woman who wanted you to scream her name. Natasha wanted you to cum for her. To be there for her.

Natasha loved you.

You threw your head back as Natasha ate you out and finger fucked you. Your moans and whimpers were past the point of euphoric. You were more than happy in this moment. The love you felt and gave was on another planet.

Yet, in an instant, your thoughts became muddled and confused; about someone else.

The words left your mouth and changed everything in the matter of seconds.

With a smile, Natasha kissed up your body. The taste of you still on her fingers and tongue, you moaned: "Oh, Wanda."

Natasha froze and looked into your eyes to see them... unchanged. You hadn't realized your words... maybe that's what made Natasha's heart hurt more even after you broke it.

It's that you didn't even notice...

Woah, maybe I can't.

Maybe I can't fix her.

Down the hall in her room, Wanda Maximoff opened her red eyes as they faded back to green and smirked.

dividers by @/benkeibear

[avatar-anna]

After reading Harry and Julian’s relationship I can’t even image how Harry would be on his first day of school. I would love to see how Harry would react to each of his babies first days of school

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader

"Chin up, love, you're gonna make your old man cry."

Julian's little bottom lip wobbled as he tried to take a deep breath through his sniffly nose. His eyes were lined with a fresh wave of tears, his chubby cheeks ruddy from the ones he shed on the car ride to school. With a shaky voice, the cutest and most heartbreaking it had ever been, Harry thought, Jules said, "I'm s—sorry, Daddy."

"It's okay, JuJu," Harry promised, ignoring the bite of the cold tile floor on his knee as he knelt in front of his son. "Today is going to be so much fun, and it'll go so fast."

"But why can't you stay?" Julian asked, his big eyes pleading.

Those were the eyes that typically had his son getting his way without fail. Harry could never resist that particular look, especially when Julian's lips were pouted just so. My sweet boy, Harry thought. All grown up.

"Because this is school, bubbie. This is where kids go to learn."

"But you and Mommy help me learn," Julian reasoned.

"You've got an answer for everything," Harry murmured. "School is a place for learning and making friends JuJu. And to take art class and read stories and play on the playground. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Harry and Y/n had similar conversations with their son since they told him and Maeve they were going to school. For preschool, Y/n had taken on educating the twins, with Harry helping where he could. It was more manageable when they were quarantined, but now that life was returning to normal and the kids were getting older, there was only so much Y/n could manage on her own. Enrolling the kids in school seemed like the logical next step, and although some of them were excited by the new adventure, others were more apprehensive.

"Tell you what," Harry said when he realized selling the joys of school wasn't working on Julian. "When mum and I pick you and your sisters up today, we'll go get ice cream, how about that?"

"And we can feed the ducks too?" Jules asked, a hint of a smile appearing on his face.

Harry grinned. "Yep. We can go to the park and feed the ducks too. But you have to go to school first."

Julian's curls bounced on his forehead as he nodded. "Okay."

"Now dry your tears, bubbie. You're gonna have the best day ever," Harry said as he stood up.

"And you will dry your tears too, Daddy?"

Chuckling to himself, Harry wiped the corner of his eye. "Yes, JuJu. See? All gone."

Harry held his son's hand as they walked into the classroom together. Maeve was already inside, playing with a set of building blocks that were on a colorful carpet. From there, the transition was a little easier, though Harry shared a tearful goodbye with the twins when it was finally time for class to begin. He was the last parent to leave, and the teacher had to gently but firmly usher him out of the room so class could start. He stayed out in the hall for a few minutes, watching Julian to make sure he didn't burst into tears the second Harry left. Maeve was thankfully sat at the same table with two other children, and things seemed to be going well.

Before Julian noticed him in the hall, Harry left for the parking lot, wiping away the few tears that escaped yet again as he walked away from his babies. Y/n was in the car, Geneva and Natalia already in their car seats and ready for the drive home.

"How was it?" she asked.

"As expected. I had to cut a deal with Julian to get him to actually go into the classroom. Minimal tears."

"From you or from our son?"

Harry cut a glance at his wife, whose eyes were on the road in front of her as she drove away from the school. His heart clenched at the thought of leaving his children behind, but he tried not to show it. "Ha ha. Very funny."

"You were very brave," Y/n continued to tease.

Harry only hummed, glancing sidelong at his wife before saying, "Your mascara's running by the way."

"It is not."

"It is. You look like a raccoon. A very cute raccoon."

"Whatever," Y/n mumbled, subtly wiping beneath her eyes. Then, promptly changing the subject, she asked, "What did you have to promise Jules?"

"The usual. Ice cream and a trip to the park."

Y/n smiled. "Good. I was worried you were going to bribe him with a trip to his favorite candy store in New York."

"That was one time."

Y/n laughed as she turned into their neighborhood, her eyes softening as they slowly approached their empty house. It was definitely odd to only have two children with them at home, having gotten used to the usual chaos of wrangling seven children at once. Y/n and Harry had been reassuring each other for weeks that this was a good idea, promising themselves all the things they would get to do with a little more peace and quiet in the house.

When they got inside, Natalia in Harry's arms and GiGi on Y/n's hip, it was eerily quiet. No sounds of television shows, no arguing, no sounds of little feet running around. It was too quiet.

"You know, I forgot to pack the twins a snack this morning," Harry said suddenly. "They have a lunch and a snack time, don't they?"

"Yeah, but they can just—Oh. H, you're not serious."

Harry was in fact dead serious. "What will all their friends think if they have to eat a snack from their lunch box? It's inconceivable!"

Y/n leveled her husband with a look, making sure she knew his antics were a lot, even for him. Harry just stared back insistently, not willing to change his mind.

"You know you're crazy, right? Like this is crazy, even for you."

Ignoring her jab, Harry said to Geneva, "You want to go on another car ride?"

"Yeah!"

"Then it's settled. As soon as I put their snacks together, we'll go."

Y/n rolled her eyes at Harry, but couldn't deny wanting to see her kids one last time before they really had to be left alone so they could learn and adapt. Once they were back in the car and headed back to the school, Y/n rested her hand over her husband's.

"You know this can't be a thing, though, right?"

Harry shrugged, now behind the wheel. "We'll see. I'm a very forgetful person."

[jukeboxsweethearttt]

Falling Behind

Patrick Zweig x Fem Reader

cw: like one use or y/n

(loosely inspired by Falling Behind by Laufey)

This Ask!

The doorbell rang, echoing through your quiet Syracuse apartment. It was an unwelcome sound, one that signaled the arrival of someone you had been trying to forget. The last person you expected to see was him.

“The Toxic Ex” as your friends called him. the ex who had left a trail of heartbreak and confusion in his wake.

You opened the door hesitantly, your heart pounding. There he stood, looking disheveled and desperate, a far cry from the confident man you once knew. His baby blues, usually so piercing, were now filled with a pleading sadness.

"Can we please talk Y/n?"

He asked, his voice rough with emotion.

You crossed your arms wrapping them around yourself covering your tiny night-set, leaning against the doorframe.

"What do you want, Zweig?"

You scoffed.

He sighed, running a hand through his messy brown hair.

"I need to apologize. I know I messed up, and I can't stop thinking about you. About us."

As he spoke all the memories of your relationship flooded back the highs, the intense connection.

But also the lows, the manipulation, and the constant feeling of falling behind.

You had spent months trying to piece yourself back together after he left.

"Why now?"

You demanded, your voice wavering.

"Why show up after all this time?"

He stepped closer you fought the urge to step back instead staying leaned against your doorframe his eyes never leaving yours.

"I was scared, scared of losing you, scared of my own feelings. But losing you was the worst mistake of my life. Please, give me another chance."

All of the memories played in your mind, a haunting reminder of how you felt during your time together.

Always trying to keep up, always feeling like you were never enough for him.

But here he was, begging for forgiveness, a broken man.

"How do I know you won't hurt me again?"

You muttered your defenses slowly crumbling.

Patrick's gaze softened, his hand trembling slightly as he reached out.

"You don't. But I promise I'll spend every day proving that I'm worth the second chance. I'll never take you for granted again."

You shook your head, trying to keep your stance on this situation.

"Patrick, you hurt me. You made me feel like I was constantly chasing after something I could never catch."

His eyes were filled with genuine regret.

"I know."

His voice cracking.

"I know I hurt you, and I can't change the past. But I love you. I've always loved you, and I can't let you go without trying to make things right."

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. Part of you wanted to slam the door in his face, to protect yourself from the pain he had caused.

But another part, a smaller, quieter part, longed for the love you once shared.

"Do you really think you can change?"

You asked your voice barely above a whisper.

Patrick nodded, determination shining in his eyes.

"I've been working on myself, trying to understand why I did the things I did. I know it won't be easy, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes. I want to be the man you deserve."

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of deceit.

All you saw was a man who was truly sorry, who was willing to do whatever it took to win you back.

Maybe it was foolish, but you wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that people could change, that love could conquer the deepest wounds.

"Okay," you said softly. "But this is your last chance, Patrick.

If you hurt me again, we're done for good."

You said now standing up straight from your doorway.

He nodded, tears of relief glistening in his eyes. "I won't let you down. I promise."

As he pulled you into his arms, you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to each other. Maybe you could heal and grow stronger together.

As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, you felt a strange sense of peace. Falling behind was no longer an option.

This time, you would walk side by side, facing whatever came your way.

Later that evening, as you both sat on your cream sofa, the silence between you was comforting rather than oppressive.

Patrick held your hand, squeezing it gently. "Tell me everything,"

He said softly.

"I want to know what you went through, how I made you feel. I need to hear it."

You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of release as you began to speak.

The words poured out of you, each one a step towards healing.

Patrick listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours, absorbing every painful detail.

As the night wore on, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders.

Maybe this time would be different. Maybe, with honesty and effort, you could rebuild what was broken.

In that moment, you realized that sometimes, falling behind can lead you to a place where you can finally catch up, together.

[we-were-beautiful]

The Fox and The Hounds pt.5

A/N: At long last we finally have part 5 for The Fox and The Hounds. I do apologize for those who have waited so long for this part but here it is and I got to give a huge thanks to @loving-and-dreaming for Beta reading this for me. That being said we are all still human and there may be some errors and I apologize in advance. Hope y’all enjoy  

Up next on my writing schedule is Unraveled ends and I already have about 2000 words already written for that so stay tuned.

Summary: Its autumn court tradition to give your mate a fox kit before your ceremony. after years of knowing the Vanserra’s a mating bond snaps between the Autumn Heir and a well known smoke hound breeder

Warning: none that I know of but if you see something please reach out and let me know.

 WC: 4k

As the door shut, I placed my back to it and gently slid down to the floor. I truly had no idea how to interact with this male. The last two months had been a whirlwind and all of Eris' current behaviors contradicts the information that my cousins in the night court have given me.  Gods I can only imagine the fuss that Rhys and Mor are going to kick up when they hear that my parents allowed this little unchaperoned weekend getaway, but in all reality there is not much they could do without inducing the High Lord of Nights anger. We had been invited to a formal dinner at the night court once word of the engagement and mating bond reached my uncles; the High Lord of Night and Keir, the Steward of the Court of Nightmares(who happens to be Mors father), had been overjoyed that The Night Court would now have ties with the Autumn Court. What the two of them had attempted with Mor they would have with me.

While the High Lord of Night doted on his older sister and her husband for the excellent match between Eris and myself; across the table Rhysand and Mor looked horrified. Rhys had pulled me aside after his father bid the residents of the Hewn city to go play. My dearest cousin begged me to call off the whole thing. Told me what had happened to Mor, and he was so worried that I would become the Vanserras next victim. The heartbreak on his face when I told him it was inevitable, this marriage was happening whether we wanted it to or not. There would have been no place for me to run. Uncle would not have sheltered me in the Night Court, and Beron would have me hunted down. The marriage was far too advantageous for him. He hugged me tight afterwards and seemed reluctant to hand me over to Eris when my mate wanted to steal me away to dance. 

That seemed like so long ago but in reality it was three weeks ago. I move over to the bed and take a seat. This weekend was going to be awkward between the two of us. Eris for the most part is trying; he’s gentle with me in a way that I have only seen him be with his mother. Every morning if we don’t have an event together, he sends me a small sweet note and flowers. He sends them often enough that the ones I have in vases barely have had time to wilt. He’s a good male; it's just awkward since we barely know each other. I had always thought that he was attractive, but with him as Beron’s heir I didn’t stand a chance when there were more political matches to be made. I had figured If I were to end up with any of the Vanserra boys it would have been with Ashton, the second brother. Ashton was a carbon copy of his father always aiming to please the male even if it pushed him to act monstrously. But I guess I have to thank Mor for fucking the Illyrian Bastard, it had saved me from potentially being married off to an abusive male and instead with my mate, even if we did not know it at the time.    

I don’t know how long I sat on the bed going over the events of the last two months absentmindedly stroking Paprikas soft fur but a swift knock pulls me out of my thoughts. 

“Excuse me, Lady Y/N.” A melodic voice flows through the door. “I’m here to help you get ready for dinner.” 

Ah so Eris had already secured a ladies maid for me. I let out a soft groan as I moved to stand. That at least saves me the trouble of having to find one myself. I open the door to see a high Fae standing there. She is pretty if not a bit plain. Her brown hair is swept up into a neat bun at the nape of her neck hiding her pointed ears; the simple oxblood dress is a touch big for her frame. The uniforms I have seen on the servants and slaves at the forest house have been expertly tailored to the Fae that wear them, so she must be new.

“Oh” she squeaks before dropping into a curtsy. “Lady Y/N, I am Melonie, Lord Vanserra has hired me to be your ladies maid.” 

“It's a pleasure Melonie, and please it’s just Y/N. If you are to be my ladies maid then we shall be spending quite a significant amount of time together; so we may as well be on a first name basis.” I move aside to let her in.

“Only while we are in private though at the Forest House we need to remain as formal as we can be.” I tack on. There is a rigid hierarchy in the Autumn Court and while we are in a private residence, such as here, we can act as we please; the moment we step into Beron’s halls everything has to be as formal as possible.

“Understood Ma’am.” She nods her head and steps into the room. “Now we must get you ready for dinner.” 

“Of course. Did my mate say what dress is needed.” I’m certain my family's servants packed everything from casual wear to a ball gown for this trip. I honestly don’t know why, as this is an informal trip for me to get to know my mate better. I’m sure he told my father that there wouldn’t be any major formal events that the two of us would need to attend.

“Yes Ma’am, Lord Vanserra said that it was to be a casual dinner.” She tilts her head a bit “I do believe his words to his attendance were that it is just a simple dinner between my mate and I there is no reason for us to don finery.” I let out a small laugh, that does sound like Eris. There had been a few times when we had been in the forest house after dinner that we had gone on an evening stroll and he had expressed his distaste for the show that we had to put on. Having to put on our finest to awkwardly sit at a table under the scrutiny of our families. 

“So a simple dress it is.” I let out a soft sigh. Thank the Mother, I’m so glad he doesn’t want to stand on formalities. I move through the room to the wooden armoire and shift through the dresses my family's servants had picked, settling in on a simple green dress trimmed with a delicate cream lace.

“That will look lovely Y/N” I smile at her statement and take a step back and allow her to help me get ready.

It takes us about 45 minutes to get me ready for dinner. The dress had been easy enough, I Honestly could have gotten myself into it but help is always appreciated. My hair had taken a bit more time, but soon enough I was headed down the stairs to the dining room. We had passed the room briefly on our tour but now I had the time to take it in. It was large enough that we could easily entertain a party of 18 people, but I had a feeling that would be an extremely rare occasion. The table was a smooth walnut wood polished to a near mirror finish. It was large with many elegantly carved chairs pushed under; it is nearly too large for just the two of us. While I haven’t gotten to explore the house I can only hope that there is a smaller informal dining room for us to use. Eris is there when I arrive, dressed in a simple cream colored tunic and brown breeches tucked into dark brown boots. Upon hearing my arrival he jumps to his feet giving me a short bow. 

“My mate you look lovely this evening.” He moves and pulls out a chair next to the head of the table for me. “I apologize for this. The staff had already set this table before I could tell them that it wouldn’t be necessary.” 

“Thank you.” I say as I gently take a seat in the chair that he had pulled out. “There is no need to apologize. There is an informal dining room?” the question hangs in the air.

“Yes, there is a smaller dining room that I use when It’s just me here; I figured that we would use it while we reside here unless we are forced to entertain.” He responds, giving a nod to one of his staff standing beside a door that I think leads to the kitchen. 

“Oh good. This is a lovely dining room but it feels like it might be a bit much if it’s just the two of us.” A plate is soon placed in front of me, I mutter a thanks, and begin to pick up my silverware. 

“It really is.” Eris laughs as he picks up his own silverware and digs in. 

Conversation flows freely between the two of us as we talk about everything and nothing. I take this time to figure out more about the male that I am bound to for the rest of our immortal lives. I find that he adores his mothers baking. He insisted that I should get her apple strudel recipe from her and that I would love it. He likes the spicy foods that are common in the Summer Court, but he cannot stand the Summer Court's tendency for sour things. I also learn that his father has him acting as an emissary for a few courts including Spring, Winter, and Dawn. It is an eye opening conversation as the two of us go back and forth. We sit at the table telling each other our likes and dislikes long past when we finish our meals. At one point after the table had long since been cleared, save for a few bottles of wine and our glasses, Eris dismissed the staff while we continued talking. It takes one of the hounds whining for attention for us to actually leave the table taking our glasses to the living room. Eventually we have to let the hounds and Paprika out one last time before bed. Sadly the rain hadn’t stopped. It seemed to have gotten worse over the last few hours and what once was a nice steady rain is now a downpour. Ever the gentleman, Eris offers to take them out and wait for them to be done. 

I knew that there would be some paw wiping that needed to be done, but what I didn’t expect was for all of the hounds to come back into the house covered in mud.

“Oh no.” I exclaim as Eris carries in a mud covered Paprika, setting her on the floor only after the door is shut and locked.

“I think we are going to have to give them emergency baths.” Eris sighed, running a hand through his damp red hair.

“What happened?” I swear my eyebrows have probably reached my hairline as the hounds continue to play with each other getting mud all over the living room floor. 

“Well I thought that they would do their business, be done, and come back into the house. Apparently I was wrong and they decided that they wanted to play.” I can see the steam rising off of Eris as he uses his powers to dry off. “Paprika on the other hand accidentally landed in a mud puddle. And I already dismissed the staff for the night.” 

“Shit.” It's always nice to have an extra hand on deck when bathing the hounds “Well looks like we are on bath duty then.” 

We had relocated from the living room up to the bedrooms; the click of nails on the floor followed behind us as the dogs followed along behind us. I let him lead me through the halls my arm laced through his taking in the warmth that radiated through his shirt. The Vanserra’s were known for their fire wielding abilities, but it was like fire ran through his blood heating him from the inside out. I didn’t quite want the evening to end. 

“We probably should have kept some of the staff here when we saw that it was going to rain.” Eris laughs. 

“Probably, I’m sure your housekeeper will skin both of us tomorrow when she sees the mess.” I chuckle glancing behind me to see the whisper of smoke hounds trailing along behind us leaving muddy tracks along the wooden floor.

“Our housekeeper.” Eris’ gently corrects “I hate to say that she is almost used to it. She’s not a fan of bathing the hounds though.” 

“I don’t blame her, it’s a task and a half, and with the lot that we have it’s going to take us at least a few hours.” I try not to pay too much attention to the way Eris uses joint ownership. I should be grateful that he has already gotten used to us being a pair although it is a bit harder for me. 

Since the engagement Eris has always referred to us as a unit. It was “our plans for the mating ceremony” and “Of course we will be attending tonight.” It seemed to come easy to him; however, I am still trying to wrap my head around things. For me this is still just Eris’s home and his belongings and employees, not mine. Although in two weeks, I guess it will partially be mine. I need to get used to the fact that we are now a unit and respond as such. This will be our home that we fill with our hounds and if we are lucky enough down the road maybe a few messy haired faelings that we created. 

We make our way to Eris’s room. The room is not what I had thought it would be and vastly different from his rooms in the forest house. His living quarters in the high lords ancestral halls were cold. Deep emerald fabrics were selected and paired with polished dark wood furniture. We had had tea in his sitting room a few days after the bond had snapped and the whole room just felt impersonal. This room however felt warm. The large bed that dominated the middle of the room facing the window, looked like it was crafted with smooth unfinished red wood and decorated with large antlers. The crimson duvet looks soft and inviting and for a male there is a surprising amount of pillows strewn across the top of the bed  A smaller bookshelf resided along the one wall and much like the massive wall of books in the living room this one is packed with books, but these seemed to be much more loved, with signs of wear along the spines. Next to the window there is a small table that appears to just be a log that someone placed a glass top on and called it good and an arm chair that honestly looked like it had seen better days, if the patches on the arms of the chair were anything to go off of. More dog beds were spread along the floor but I had a feeling quite a few of them slept in the actual bed. Smoke hounds while they don’t shed a ton of fur, still shed, and if the short white hairs clinging to the crimson duvet say anything it is that the dogs are on the bed. Which is fine with me since I typically have one or two with me in my bed on any given night and since Paprika came into the picture she’s always cuddling in bed with me. 

“Come on, the bathroom is through here.” He opens the door on the furthest wall to reveal the massive bathing chambers with a large tub.  

“We might want to shut the bedroom door so that they can’t run off.” I quietly mention once I noticed that all of them were in the room. 

“Good idea.“ Eris sidesteps me quickly making his way to the door. Nineteen sets of ears pop up at the sound of the door clicking close. I move to quickly scoop up Paprika before she has the chance to dart under Eris’s Bed. 

“We need to do Paprika first; she’s still getting used to bath time.” Hearing the word ‘bath’ the fox kit starts to squirm. I quickly manure her in my arms and hold her under her front legs; her bottom and tail dangling limply in the air.

 “You are covered in mud, no amount of wiggling will get you out of it.” I speak to the little kit as if she were a naughty child. Her ears flop as if resigning herself to her fate. 

Bath time is eventful to say the least, Paprika gave us hell once we set her in the warm water. She just about screamed the entire time and only calmed down once she was wrapped in one of Eris fluffy towels. Having Eris around for bath time had its perks. Using his fire magic he was able to dry the hounds and Paprika rather faster than having to let them air dry. The hounds were bathed without complaint; but there were some trouble makers. Once we had shut the bathroom door to bathe Paprika, one of Eris’s hounds jumped up onto his bed and proceeded to cover not only the duvet in mud but Eris’s pillows and sheets. Then one of my hounds decided that I needed a bath as well and grabbed my dress and tugged just hard enough to send me sprawling into the tub. By the time the all nineteen of the canines are bathed Eris and I are drenched; the bathroom is soaked and quite frankly there is pathways of muddy paw prints throughout the house. 

“I know I said we don’t need a kennel, but I would like to retract my statement. We need one if only to prevent things like this from happening again.” I slump alongside Eris resting against the side of the tub. 

“Agreed.” Eris runs his hands through his hair. “We still have to get cleaned up ourselves.” 

“And remake your bed; one of the hounds got on it.” Eris lets out a groan at that statement. 

“Let’s get cleaned up first and then we can deal with that later. Worse comes to worse; I can sleep in one of our spare rooms or the couch.” 

“Please don’t sleep on the couch.” I laugh “Especially when there are perfectly good beds in the spare rooms. 

“I will have you know Dear Mate that the couch is one of the best places to sleep in this house. I have spent many nights on it.” 

“Now that's just sad Eris.” We both end up laughing. 

“Come now let's get cleaned up and off to bed. Eris moves to stand offering me one of his hands to help me off the floor. I end up stumbling into Eris’s chest as I am pulled up; he steadies me, one hand on my hip the other not letting go of my hand. I had noticed in the time we have been courting how much bigger his hands are then mine, they almost completely engulf mine whenever we dance, and they are so very warm. My heart races in my chest, being so close to this male without anyone else around. There is an awkward silence that fills the space between the two of us.

“Well I will leave you to it.” He moves to open the door to the room. Immediately dogs start tripping over one another in their attempt to escape the bedroom. Eris meets my gaze and we burst out laughing at the scene. We laugh for a solid few minutes; we would slow down and when we would look at each other we would start laughing again. An endless loop of pulling ourselves together only to fall apart again and again.

“I don’t know why that was so funny.” I hold my side as a wait out the stitch that I had gotten from laughing so hard.    

“Neither do I” Eris places a hand on my lower back as he leads me towards my room “Here is where I leave you.” 

“Thank you Eris.” I laugh as he takes my hand and places a kiss on the back of it. 

“You are quite welcome.” He releases my hand and steps back.

 “Please let me know if you need anything.” With one last look he walks down the hall presumably towards one of the spare rooms to clean up. 

I turn into my room and see several of my hounds lounging around as if they didn’t just turn bath time into a whole event. I give them a glare before heading into the bathroom to take a bath of my own before getting ready for bed. The Lady of Autumn truly tried to make this suite as comfortable as she could. Various soaps and oils lined the counter and a few small candles decorated the edge of the bathtub. It was a place that one could easily find solace. Maybe tomorrow I will take full advantage and soak in the large tub, but tonight I feel drained. While it wasn’t a super physically taxing day, mentally it was draining. This trip is giving me a golden opportunity to learn just who my mate is. Already had got to see a completely different side of him. 

When we are out on an official engagement or in the forest house Eris has always seemed so cold despite the fire that flows through his veins. He has always seemed closed off to everybody except for his mother and me. I got to hear him laugh for the first time in the 60 or some odd years that I had known him. I move through the motions of bathing and getting ready for bed. By the time I am turning down the bed I am ready to simply relax. Paprika paws at the bed, her way of asking to be picked up and placed on the bed. I grab her and set her down on the sheets. Ramiel and Rosie hop up on the bed unprompted ready to make themselves comfortable on the large bed. My ears twitch as I hear scratching at the door. I quickly glance around the room taking a head count of Hounds that are lazing around the room. All seven of mine are accounted for plus Ichabod who also decided that he wanted to sleep on the bed as well. So one of Eris’s lot wants to stay in here tonight. I move to open the door to let the pup in; my eyes widen once I open the door because not only is there a smoke hound begging to be let in but Eris is standing there with two steaming mugs. The hound darts past me, with the speed that they are famed for, as I continue to stare at Eris. 

“I figured we could have a cup of tea before bed.” I smile widely at him. He had listened when I was rambling shortly after our engagement. I had offhandedly mentioned that I liked to have a nice cup of Herbal tea before bed. And here he stands holding two cups of tea. 

“I would love that,” I step aside and let him walk into the room. He walks towards the bed and takes a seat holding out one of the cups for me to take; I sit down beside him taking the cup from his hand. 

We sit and talk for a long time. Eventually we have drunk our tea, cups sit forgotten on the nightstand, but Eris stayed. We eventually moved from sitting on the edge of the bed to sitting propped up with pillows against the headboard. The last thing I recall before I go to sleep is looking over at Eris who had fallen asleep not ten minutes ago. I don’t have the heart to wake him since he looks so peaceful. I roll over and wrap my arms around Ramiel before letting sleep take over me.  

Tag List @b0xerdancer @imma-too-many-fandoms @judig92 @fall-myriad @j-brielmalfoy @highlady-ofillyria @percyjacksonspeen @nyctophiliiiiaaa @marigold-morelli @azzydaddy @isa1b2h3

[beebopboom]

Nothing Last Forever

Oh

He has seen this face before he is sure of it, the face of devastation and heartbreak.

When the emptiness of space had surrounded them as he had told this same face the fate of his stars, his beautiful stars, all those years ago.

The consequence of that decision was being reflected back to him with those beautiful yellow eyes that now glistened with tears.

The eyes that made him question what they were all living for?

he’s never thought of himself a star before

To be here in this bookshop saying those same words was unimaginable.

This place that became their stars, their Eden.

He’s abandoning it, their home, through no choice of his own.

Standing in this room full of stories written by people who were never meant to be known forever and could so easily be destroyed it feels heartbreakingly fitting.

Stories that never would have been written in the first place without the knowledge Crowley gave them.

is it really a surprise then of why he loves this about them so much?

But those eyes have been covered and every story does have an ending.

He has spent millennia’s watching as people have come and go. Collecting and reading their words that linger. Not knowing what he was truly looking for.

Even the ones that misspoke, the words that got lost in translation. All those imperfect ones were just as important to him - sometimes even funny to look back on.

He sees himself and Crowley in these stories sometimes. He sits there and reads, wishing them into every happy ending.

Until the book is put down, closed and the story comes to an end. Characters locked in a place of time, in their own world. Enjoying the time they had together now that they were finally left alone.

Is that not what they have been doing?

Sitting around and waiting till their book had been picked up and used again? Waiting for the inevitable.

All those loose ends and uncertainty. Asking the question, “What are they living for now?”

Their book must go on, right?

They had tried to prepare but this was not something they could have predicted. Their story once again taken out of their hands without them knowing as his executioner had walked down that street all those days ago.

Had there ever really a choice? Their book was reopened and continued while they were looking in the wrong direction.

Sometimes he wonders if it was ever closed or if it had been laying wide open on the center table to be ogled at. Had they ever truly been left alone? Free to sing and fly away like the nightingale.

Not all stories have a happy ending of that he is very aware. They hurt you and burn you while they burn themselves. Destroy themselves. Fire is fire no matter what form it takes.

Why then did that kiss burn so good?

He remembers the feeling when he learned that this place, that the words of his friends, had been taken from him in fire.

It is the base of what he is feeling now, that loss of everything. At least that is what he had thought then. Nothing compares to the feeling of losing his world, his Crowley.

He can feel his heart breaking on the inside, knows that it shows on his face.

It never gets any easier to replace it with a smile.

He knew that this wasn’t their ending, he wouldn’t let it be. He needed Crowley, wanted him by his side. He’ll leave everything else up to chance.

Crowley would always be there even if he wouldn’t follow. He knows that. He sees that. He loves him for it. His heart breaks all the same.

But he needed to do this. The choice ripped out of his hands with an opportunity laying in its wake. To be in the know this time around, to have a look at the next page, to maybe even have a say.

It was too much a risk to let it continue as before no matter how much it hurt him, hurt his Crowley. There was no guarantee they should be so lucky again.

There was no hiding within the words of their book now, no cover of protection. Not when they have been read and repeated. Lingering in the back of everyone’s mind. He aches for them to finally be free.

Nothing lasted forever but god he prays that they do - that they would never have a last kiss,

That their story goes on and the nightingale sings again.

————————————————————————

Pt. 1 Aziraphale’s pov (this one)

Pt. 2 Crowley’s pov

[ussgallifrey]

Meeting Point

✦ Summary: In a world full of soulmates with destined meeting points, Steve Rogers' mark had always been a point of heartbreak. Until he woke up in the 21st Century; that's when his hope was rekindled.

✦ Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

✦ Word Count: 1,815

✦ Author's Note: Do you ever have a dream that just fully re-alters your brain chemistry? Yeah, I had a killer dream last night that sparked my love for the Soulmate AU to return. Prepare to be bombarded by soulmate stories over the next few weeks.

The mark on Steve Rogers’ wrist starts to make a lot more sense when he wakes up in the 21st century.

It came back to him, slowly at first, after he was returned to SHIELD’s headquarters. After he was subjected to a myriad of tests from doctors and a few uncomfortable conversations with an in-house counselor. When, only after Director Fury sent him upstate to a place called The Retreat - until the media attention dies down, Captain. I’m sure you understand - that Steve even had a second to think about that silly old mark on his wrist.

For the first time in five days and some technical sixty-seven years, Steve is alone. Not surrounded by agents or doctors or scientists. Not a single camera or reporter in sight. It’s just him and the cabin he was delivered to.

When he pulls off his jacket and finally catches a glimpse at the familiar black marking there. That’s when he allows himself a second to actually slow down and think about it. The chaotic world of the twenty-first century finally fades away from the edges of his peripheral, and he sees the one grounding thing that still remains in his life.

There, in elegant script reads a simple date:

06. 29. 2019

And for the first time in hours, days, years, Steve can feel the hint of a smile trying to turn up his chapped lips.

He could have never imagined. Not all those years ago, back in Brooklyn. There was an honest-to-God chance now. 

So, he draws his fingers along the familiar trace of numbers and sets to work.

Back when those numbers first appeared, Steve had only felt immediate heartbreak. His Ma’s pitying eyes had been the only thing keeping his chin up at that point. At least he had someone out there, even if he would only get to spend a short time with them. And maybe that was what kept his head above water through all of his childhood illnesses and bouts. The fact that he would survive this hell because it was literally destined that he would live to 100.

Oh sure, the other kids on his street had the normal marks.

Six years more, three weeks, two days. That was the typical lay of the land. So, when kids started asking about his date, his numbers, Steve would just curl up his wrist and clamp his right hand down over the text. It was no one’s business but his own.

But now that date finally made sense. He was only twenty-six, no matter what his actual birthdate was. He was physically still just a young man. He wasn’t going to meet the love of his life on his deathbed. Maybe this was just the universe’s way of apologizing to him; for making him lose everything else, but in return he would get the one thing anyone ever really wanted.

Seven years. He could wait seven years.

It’s a sick sort of relief when he sees those numbers still engraved on his wrist after the Snap. He’s not entirely sure if he expected them to fade away when half of the universe was turned to dust, but it’s probably the only bit of hope that’s keeping him from drowning under the guilt and sorrow that the rest of the team is.

Never one to stand down, to give up the fight, Steve keeps himself going in whatever way he can. Whether the people still want Captain America’s help is another story. But he finds different ways to assist, to be a help, to make up for the wrongs.

And soon the calendar months are passing by and life continues on within the aftermath of near-total destruction.

Only Natasha and him remain behind in the old compound. The others have moved to make their own paths in the new world marred by their own collective failures. He stares at the desktop calendar in front of him as Nat wraps up another weekly virtual conference with the team outside of New York.

Okoye, Rhodes, and Danvers disappear in a shimmer of cascading blue light. Nat’s too focused on writing down notes to notice that Nebula remains silent, stoic, observing them both.

Steve sits up, “Was there something else?”

The assassin beside him looks up, finally noticing the alien.

She raises her chin, “We’ll be returning soon. Within the week. He says he found something of value, worth looking into anyway.”

He glances over at Nat, who merely nods, “Okay. We’ll plan for that then.”

And then she’s gone, stepping away from the camera as the lights dim and the two are drenched back into the light of the otherwise empty compound.

Natasha clicks the pen against the table a few times before she merely rolls it away from her notebook, settling back into her chair with crossed arms.

Steve rubs at his left wrist.

Nebula and Rocket arrive late Friday night. Steve’s only just gotten back to the compound - fresh out of a shower after removing shards of glass from his bicep. While half of the population had disappeared a year ago, crime hadn’t gone away. Hell, it probably got worse, in all honesty. And Steve had the nasty habit of throwing himself into everything and anything without backup around these days.

Tonight had been no different. Another wannabe small-time crime lord in the making, building an empire through the streets of New York. Steve liked to remind them that there was still at least one person on the planet who noticed.

He should have taken it a little easier on himself though, with tomorrow drawing near. That was the day, the destined date of his meeting. And he probably shouldn’t look like a complete mess on the day he’s set to meet his soulmate. His other half.

As he flexes his knuckles, peering down at the bits of dried blood under his nail beds that hadn’t come clean in the shower, the entire compound begins to quake. He looks at his reflection  in the mirror above the sink, a familiar sinking feeling settling deep into his stomach as he recalls the night Tony and Nebula came to Earth.

Without a second thought, he nabs his shirt from the edge of the sink and takes off toward the courtyard. Their ship is already parked there, with Rocket on the ramp and Nebla looking up toward the stars with Nat. Steve slows his pace as he moves to join them, staring up in slight wonder at the yellow and blue ship descending above them.

The seven wings of the ship spread out in a pattern that looks almost star-like against the deep black background of the night sky. The wheels settle into the grass as the engines hum into powering down.

“ - in the Draconis Sector,” Nebula continues whatever it was she was previously saying to Nat. “Only Star Blaster in sight.”

Steve stares up at the impressive ship. The wings give it an added height over the Benatar that’s parked next to it. It takes a minute for the pilot, the person they told them would be coming along with them, the person that could be of use, to exit the ship.

He straightens up as the armored figure comes into view. Royal blue and gold metal, with radiant lights that remind him of the Arc Reactor, light up the space around them all as the person draws near.

“Hey, pipsqueak,” comes the slightly muffled voice.

Rocket sneers in return, Nebula looks surprisingly amused as the woman moves to grab hold of the alien’s hand.

“Not a bad place,” she then addresses Natasha.

And then her helmeted face turns to assess the supersoldier. She takes a step forward, then another while Steve settles his hands on his belt.

Grabbing hold of her matching blue and gold helmet, she pulls it free from her head. Steve can feel an actual breath escape his lips.

“And you must be…?”

He swallows, extends his hand, “Steve.”

Her smile wanes and her grasp on his hand loosens to the point that she merely drops her hand back to her side. Steve wonders if he’s made some kind of faux pas as she tucks her helmet against her left hip.

“You know…” she shakes her head, a smile beginning to reform, “I was really wondering when I’d get around to meeting you.”

She looks up at him with playful eyes as she begins pulling back the sleeve on her left hand.

“Rogers, right? Steven Grant Rogers?”

He kind of gapes before forcing himself to nod as his eyes travel down to her now-exposed wrist. She twists it around for him to see, and sure enough, there in a familiar scrawl of handwriting sits his name.

His own left wrist itches in anticipation as he wordlessly lifts it up for her to see the date of their meeting - now sometime after midnight on the 29th.

“Huh,” she quips, dropping her hand in favor of taking hold of his as she peers at the numbers. “Must be a fluke - different world, different systems. Alien names.”

He just nods, again, as all words have seemingly escaped his reach. And then he looks over at the others, Rocket with a tilted head and Nat with her knowing smirk.

But you’re not plexed, as you continue to investigate the date - your fingers tracing the lines of each number, “When you grow up on a world full of Kerlaans and Vastalls, Steven’s kind of out there, you know?”

Then you drop your hand after suddenly taking stock of the captive audience around you. Steve craves the ghost of your touch as soon as it’s gone.

“Sorry,” you sheepishly smile, rubbing at the back of your neck with your free hand. “I’m Velariun Kaal, ex-Centurion of the Nova Corps. And… I’m just here to help in whatever way I can really. Meeting you was just the bonus,” you finish with a wink.

“It’s good to finally meet you too,” he finally says at last, eyes drifting across the soft features of your face.

“So,” you smile, gently moving away from the others - toward the compound. Steve’s in step with you just a beat later. “How long have you had those numbers there?”

He can’t help but chuckle, the first real laugh in nearly a year. “You honestly don’t even want to know.”

“There’s a story there,” your eyes find his in the darkness of night. Glistening starlight illuminates your irises, like swirling galaxies.

He nods, “There is.”

“Worth the wait though?” you ask, with a clinch of hope in your voice.

Steve stops where he is.

You fall back a step to meet him.

He reaches his hand down, slowly entwining your hands together. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the slow and steady pulse of your beating heart.

“Definitely worth the wait,” he murmurs.