#light fury mother

[dangel-demon]

I feel that the design of the members of the Light fury family will change. One moment from the childhood of Light fury.

We kindly ask you not to steal my art and not to put them on other sites without my knowledge. Do not use them as dummies, do not assign them to yourself.

[lumiidragon]

Happy Mother’s Day from the Fury Family~!

[happyunbday2u]

HTTYD 2 What if...

What if Hiccup shot down the Lightfury

I finished the second movie poster that took me longer then expected mostly because I wanted to change Hiccup's armor a bit.

I also realized that the movie would be a lot more different then expected and I will post how the first one would be later but for the second movie.

The Lightfury, still haven't decided on a name, would be more like a mother then a brother to Hiccup like Toothless was, maybe sister fi you wanna stick with that instead.

A lot more protective over him and constantly making sure something or someone is safe before he makes any move, like the forst meeting with Eret Hiccup would've have to constantly move her to the side so he could actually make eye contact with him.

First meeting with Valka she almost attacked her until Valka did whatever the hand thing was. (I think it was a smell, dragon nip?)

I can already imagine her glowing cyan when she challenges Drago Bludfist's Bewilderbeast for the Alpha position.

[lilliths-httyd-blog]

stupid lil AU i thought of

Warning: I'm taking things that appeared in the third movie (Light Furies, Toothless's teleportation, etc) and making them canon in this AU. Also there are other Night Furies (this premise pains me but I'm doing it anyway for the lolz).

I'm probably not gonna write any proper fanfics about this or anything but I'll give y'all a detailed run-down:

Viggo Lives AU

Viggo comes to live on the Edge with his Skrill, called Beast - note that Beast is blind in her right eye from an injury sustained when she saved Viggo during an alternate Triple Cross, and wears an eyepatch handcrafted by Viggo to protect the wound during flight.

Toothless and Beast get along like lovers, they're always spending time together and they're super close

Seeing this makes Hiccup trust Viggo even more and they begin to become close friends

One day Beast helps Toothless discover that split-spine ability that he would normally get during the second movie

Beast also seems to be aware of Toothless's lightning-teleportation ability from the third movie - I refuse to believe the third movie is canon even more than I refuse to believe that Viggo died, but we're keeping that ability because a. I like it and b. the mental image of Beast redirecting lightning so Toothless can teleport is very sweet

Beast keeps trying to teach Toothless how to teleport, but he doesn't understand and since Beast is a Skrill, she can't show him

One night Viggo's doing his usual staying-up-way-too-late-thinking routine when he realises that Beast knows way more about Night Furies than she should, considering she's only just met Toothless

He asks Beast about it, asks her if there's anything she thinks he should see, and Beast seems to want to take him somewhere-

-so the next morning he asks Hiccup if he wants to go on a flight with him; there's something he wants to check out.

Hiccup trusts Viggo now, so he and Viggo fly off together, Hiccup and Toothless mostly following Viggo's lead and Viggo himself just letting Beast do the flying.

The flight gets longer and longer; it's further than they've ever flown before. Mist blankets the horizon and the surrounding land is getting pretty sketchy. It's getting dark.

Hiccup: "Viggo, where are we going?"

Viggo: "To tell you the truth, I have no idea."

Hiccup: "What?!"

Viggo: "Beast has been intent on showing me something, and I suspect it has something to do with Toothless. I'm trusting her to know what she's doing, but if you wish to turn back..."

Hiccup is confused but intrigued and dismisses Viggo's suggestion of turning back. He wants to find out what's going on as much as Viggo does, especially if it has something to do with Toothless.

And then they come across this huge natural fortress - whether it's similar to the Hidden World or Valka's Sanctuary or Dragon Island I haven't decided. All I know is that it's contained within some sort of rock formation, there's some form of lava and lots of crystals and plant-life, and it's very dark. Beast is very insistent on going inside, so they do-

-and inside there's hundreds of dragons; Skrill's, Light Furies, and oh fuck, that's another Night Fury.

Hiccup and Viggo are absolutely stunned to see this community of dragons living together, this community of Night Furies, the dragon they'd thought extinct.

Of course, Toothless and Beast are fucking ecstatic to meet all the new dragons and drop their guards entirely, so they can't react quickly enough when two Furies show up out of nowhere and pluck Hiccup and Viggo from their saddles, because apparently these endangered dragons understandably do not like humans.

Toothless tries to fly after Hiccup, but begins to fall out of the sky. Beast swoops down and grabs him in her talons, and they soar after the two riders. Beast starts redirecting lightning in order to attack the Furies, but Toothless's instincts kick in and he pulls off his first ever teleportation, dragging Beast with him.

They heroically appearing out of thin air to rescue Hiccup and Viggo right as the Furies are about to drop them into a lava pool.

They set their riders down on a nearby ledge and Viggo has what's basically a micro-panic attack due to his trauma from the previous volcano incident. Beast is in a bit of a frenzy trying to calm her rider down, which confuses the observing Skrills.

Meanwhile Toothless is roaring very aggressively at the Furies who tried to do away with Hiccup and Hiccup is trying to calm Toothless down while simultaneously geeking out because Oh my Thor, Toothless can teleport.

At which point three other Night Furies land nearby. They run over to Toothless and examine him, staring at his eyes and his tail. Then this huge fucking Night Fury the size of a Monstrous Nightmare lands nearby and sniffs Toothless, and it's quite clear that the large Night Fury recognises Toothless.

Hiccup looks around at all the other Night Furies in the fortress and sees that most of them have yellow eyes (a reference to those cursed McDonald's toys used to promote the first movie), though some of them have purple or blue eyes. The Night Furies surrounding them are the pretty much the only ones to have green eyes, and there's also some other distinguishing features such as similar scale patterns and the shape of their spines that make Hiccup realise that this is Toothless's family.

There's this adorable little scene where Toothless's brothers and sisters are all excited to see their long-lost brother and they're all nuzzling up against him and stuff, while Toothless is trying to make his way towards Hiccup,-

-who the large Night Fury is stalking. This is Toothless's mother, and she does not like Hiccup whatsoever. Toothless breaks away from his siblings and rushes over to defend Hiccup, roaring at his own damn mother in order to make his point clear. Toothless forces Hiccup into his saddle and Hiccup shows them how his prosthetic tail works, and how Toothless needs Hiccup in order to fly.

Toothless's mother stands down and lets Hiccup go, but never once does she take her eyes off of him.

Hiccup, Toothless, Viggo and Beast spend some time in the fortress, seeing all the different dragons that live there. There's Night Furies and Light Furies and Night-Lights, and Hiccup is absolutely captivated by them, almost as much as Toothless, who has resorted to "silly mode" now that Hiccup is no longer in danger.

Viggo, meanwhile, is absolutely captivated by the Skrill population, and he stumbles across Shadow Skrills and even a Titan Wing Skrill who has noticeable scarring. It sees Viggo's scarring and comes to take a liking to him.

More fun exploring shenanigans. Hiccup refuses to map any of it out - he doesn't want anyone to find this place. Viggo, too, swears to secrecy.

There's this buildup of tension between Hiccup and Toothless over time. Hiccup isn't sure if Toothless will stay with him or go back to live with his family. Hiccup comes to terms with the fact that he might have to let Toothless go, and even starts work on an auto-tail (like the one in Gift of the Night Fury). He's fully willing to let Toothless go if that's what Toothless wants to do. After all, he's been alone his whole life, and now he has a family, right?

Viggo and Beast also have a moment together, where Viggo encourages Beast to do what she wants, even if it means leaving him. Beast refuses to leave, taking Viggo's hand with her talon and placing it against her eyepatch, placing her other talon on his cheek. They're each other's eyes, and they need each other, both literally and metaphorically. She's too loyal to him to leave him.

Toothless sees the half-constructed tail and promptly destroys it, solidifying that he will not ever leave Hiccup, even if it means leaving the other Night Furies behind. After all, Hiccup is family too, more so than the Furies will ever be.

Toothless, Hiccup, Viggo and Beast leave. They just leave. Oh, trust me, they'll be back, they've still got studying to do, but they're leaving for now. It's time to go home. Toothless and Beast have made it clear that they are staying with Hiccup and Viggo. Toothless wasn't interested in finding other Night Furies anyway

[cclottedcreamcookie]

Light cream cookie, you hate Custard? Because me too. Let's beat him up queen

“Gladly, dear!”

[plutoswritingplanet]

It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x Female!Reader) pt.1

a/n: i had a "no bald men" rule before he licked a knife... so y'all know my priorities are in order. Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con (as per usual), Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atreides (it's just such a good prompt i couldn't help myself),

Summary: A month-long engagement to the na-Baron Harkonnen makes you question, whether a marriage can bloom on the grounds of hate. Loosely based on "Special Death" by Mirah.

Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.4 (finale)

The message comes from the Emperor himself. An indisputable order that renders your Father speechless. You've never seen him quite as distraught, as when he has visited you in your chambers to deliver the news. Hands fidgeting, eyes refusing to meet yours, heavy shadows falling across his face. He seems to expect your reaction, not giving you as much as a flinch, when you scream your protests at him. And he should've expected as much, you were always the more impulsive of Duke Leto's children. 

- But the Harkonnens are beasts - you argue, voice breaking - You've said it yourself, many times.

- Actually, I think that was Gurney...

- You've never denied it!

And he doesn't deny it now, head hung low. Never, not once in your life, have you seen your Father give up. Until today. 

Your Mother enters just a few seconds after him, her dress flowing around her ankles as if she had floated in on a cloud. She stands to the side of your bed, hands folded, and an impassive expression embedded onto her features. And the more she speaks of the centuries of breeding, the importance of an union and the powers beyond your understanding, the less you see of your mother. What stands before you, instead, is a Bene Gesserit sister, veiled in schemes and dark plans, which were in the making before you were even born. You curse yourself for not noticing this stranger sooner, and storm off, out of your room, your shawl blowing out behind you like bat wings.

Paul doesn't visit you, but you can hear him, even through the effort of swallowing down your tears. He fights for you against your Father. He would fight for you against the whole Empire if he had to, and your heart swells, as he throws a particularly nasty curse into the air of your Father's study. It doesn't change anything. According to the decree of the Emperror, the oldest daughter of the Duke Leto Atreides will marry Feyd Rautha, an heir to the Baron Harkonnen. A centuries long dispute is about to be put to an end, and all thanks to the small sacrifice, which is your life. All would be well in the galaxy. Really, you should be honored, to be tasked with such a monumental peace treaty.

Everyone in the court seems to know about your situation. Mournful looks follow you, as you walk into the training barracks, ridding yourself of layers upon layers of flowing fabrics, leaving you in a rather tight costume, light enough to beat your frustrations out on someone.

Duncan Idaho meets your searching eyes, and you know he is aware as well. All it takes is one inclination of your chin, and he's up on his feet, sword in hand. Loyal as ever, he stands in front of you, watches with mixed feelings as you enable your shield, no questions asked. None needed. 

He barely has time to put his defenses up, when you charge at him, fury and despair pushing your movements into stances which are clumsy and ill though out. Still, there's power within your strikes, a strength of someone who needs to move, unless they break. So he lets you, for a couple of minutes. He dodges your attacks, pairing some of them, never moving quite into the offense.

The rest of the soldiers scurry off somewhere, for which you will be thankful in the future. They might hear your cries of anger, but they will not see you break. They will not see the way your blade smashes into Duncan's shield over and over again, with no regard for the slow attacks, which would penetrate it. Likewise, they don't see your sparring partner fall to his knees and swipe you off your feet in a split-second movement, making you hit the floor with a frustrated snarl. And they don't see you finally give up, and cry, hugging your blade to your chest, the severity of your circumstance falling onto you, crushing you down.

- Never fight in anger, Princess - Duncan reminds you, voice cautious, and you growl at him like a wild animal - It dulls your instincts, makes you distracted.

- Did you know? - you demand, your sharp voice cutting through his half-assed lecture.

For a moment he looks truly remorseful. His eyes float around the room, and your heart sinks when he sighs deeply.

- I found out not long ago - he confesses - Your Father told me. 

Your blade slides against the floor as you throw it, a raw scream tearing through your throat. Duncan takes a step towards you, hand extended towards your shaking form. But, before he can attempt to touch you, you're up, rolling your shoulders forcefully. Tears stain your cheeks, and you wipe them roughly with the back of your hand, skin becoming irritated almost instantly. There are swords laid out on a small table, just beside you,  your fingers grip the cold handle so hard, your knuckles seem to creak under the pressure. Duncan readies himself as well, dusting off his trousers. 

He's not good at comforting, but he's the best at fighting, and if that's what you need in this cold morning, he'll oblige. 

- You'll make it through, you know - he says, his voice genuine, and you laugh without any mirth.

Your blades clash, faces coming closer as you absentmindedly notice small scars adorning his cheeks.

- You can adapt to anything - you strike against his shoulder, the shield pushes your blade away - We could send you to Arrakis right now, and a week later you'd be riding a damned Sandworm into battle.

To that, you laugh, this time your smile reaching your eyes. The idea is preposterous, but it renders your footsteps lighter, and you twist to dodge a nasty blow to the right arm. Duncan huffs a laugh as well, as you slip through his fingers. He points his blade in your direction, a smirk playing across his lips, and you bare your teeth in a playful display of wildness.

- Careful, Princess, you might scare your betrothed away - Duncan teases, as you roll your dagger in your hand.

- Scare a damned Harkonnen? Do you find me that intimidating? - the idea thrills you just a little bit, you're woman enough to admit it.

- I think you're fucking terrifying.

- Duncan Idaho, you better not be swearing at my Daughter.

Your face falls immediately, as your Father approaches the two of you, shooting Duncan a stern gaze which holds no real threat. Still, your sparring partner raises his hands, his blade tucked away safely into his belt. There's sweat clinging to your skin from all the training, mingling with drying tears on your cheeks, and Duke Leto tries very hard not to comment on your choice of processing recent events. Still, he nods at you, and like a good daughter, you put your blade away, walking from the barracks after him. 

***

The Emperor has called for a traditional, Atreides engagement. A mercy, which you're eternally grateful for. You're not too aware of Harkonnen customs regarding marriage, but given the House's reputation, it couldn't have been pleasant. House Atreides however, took to such matters much more ceremonially, old-fashioned to some. 

Soon, a ship is arriving, with your betrothed onboard, and a month-long courting period willcommence. After that, official engagement and soon after, a wedding. Then, you will be transported back on Geidis Prime, where a life of misery awaits. That's all the time you have. A month.  

The dress, which was picked out for you, is uncomfortable and shows both too much and too little skin at the same time. While your legs are bare and exposed to an almost scandalous degree, a high, stiff collar nearly chokes the life out of you. This whole getup was the idea of your mother, as an attempt to highlight your best features and hide all that might be considered less desirable. 

You have no idea what's wrong with your neck. Perhaps, by cutting off your airflow, your mother aimed to keep you docile. 

She frowns deeply as you tug on the fabric, nerves climbing up your spine, growing more desperate every second. She swats at your hand, and you throw her a look. Out of the corner of your eye Paul smiles at your antics, your only consolation in this hopeless place. 

- Stop fidgeting, you'll tear the dress - Lady Jessica scolds you, and you can sense actual worry underlining her stern voice.

The Harkonnen ship slowly glides into the atmosphere of your home planet, a black, awful thing. Like all things on Geidis Prime, dark and miserable. Soon, you'll join them, adorned in equally black and lifeless clothing, never to see your family again. Never to see the Ocean. Your nails bite into the collar of the dress, you can hear a stitch tear.

- Stop that.

Your hands fall uselessly against your body, as your mother uses the Voice on you. Wouldn't be the first time, you were quite the unruly daughter and Lady Jessica was determined to make a Lady out of you no matter the means. Still, this time, the unnatural tone feels more like a panicked plea,  than a light-hearted scolding. 

- Relax Mother - your voice is sharp, despite the slight tremble - In a months time I'll be gone from here forever, stuck in some blackened cell, wistfully sighing "ooh" "aah".

You place your hand on your forehead in a dramatic display of doubtful acting abilities. When you were younger, your mother would laugh at you, as you enacted scenes from romance books. You would throw yourself at a nearby piece of furniture, pretending to be some wronged lover, or an unhappy bride waiting for someone to liberate her. And your mother would clap her hands, thoroughly entertained.

Today however, she doesn't even crack a smile.

- I don't expect you to be happy about all this - she whispers - But I do expect you to wear your grief with some grace.

A slap would've been kinder, you think, and stare ahead, as the Harkonnen ship opens, and a group of people dressed in black spill out of it like ants from a drowning anthill. Your heart is thrumming hard in your chest, and your hand reaches out, despite all your apprehension, towards your mother. A force of habit, to search consolation within her disregarding the fact, that it was her meddling that put you here. 

Her fingers lace with yours, thumb stroking your palm in an attempt to soothe you. 

Immediately, you know which one of the bald headed Harkonnen is your betrothed. 

He's much taller than you, an imposing figure even despite his rather lean built. His skin is almost completely white, as expected, his teeth are blackened out, as expected as well, and his eyes are bearing into you with an intensity so oppressing, you almost look away. Almost. 

- I present to you, Feyd Rautha, the na-Baron of House Harkonnen. 

The pale man steps forward, releasing you from his gaze for only just a moment, to trade pleasantries with your Father, who looks beyond miserable as he fixes your soon-to-be husband with a tired look. Then, Feyd Rautha is brought before you.

There's grace to his movements you did not expect, as he pushes his black cloak aside, and kneels in front of you. Harkonnen were known for their bulky ruthlessness, but this one... This one reminded you of a panther, the way his eyes travelled the length of your body, full lips pulling upward into a barely noticable smirk. 

Customs, you remind yourself, as your mother's hand squeezes your fingers. You don't want to let her go, but you do, slowly, with so many mixed thoughts rattling around your brain, it makes your head swim. 

Feyd Rautha grabs your extended hand in such a gentle manner, you're almost convinced the Harkonnens have shaved some poor bastard and dropped him off instead of the real na-Baron. Then, he lifts your palm up, until his lips press against your fingertips, a gesture so tender, your heart does a flip in your chest. And then, it stops all together, when his grip on your palm tightens, and he pulls your hand closer, to kiss it properly. As if he can't help himself, he looks up at you, and you realize. 

You almost got yourself caught, but reading people's intentions have been taught to you as fervently as reading texts, and you can see right through this facade of chivalry. There's darkness in this man, a swirling void, which brings a wave of cold fear upon you. This cunning, depraved creature will soon enough become your husband, and you'll be stuck with him forever. How long will he keep up this impeccable appearence? Was this performence for you, your Father, his own twisted fun, or all the things combined?

With a furrowed brow, you tear your hand out of his grasp, a full body shiver running up your spine at the sight of his self-satisfied smirk. He drinks up your reactions like a man parched, and you fight hard to put on a mask of indifference, as he rises from his knees to stand before you in all his imposing glory.

***

You can feel his eyes follow you, as the welcome committee retreats into the Palace. He doesn't let you out of his sight throughout the feast, which takes place immediately after his arrival, and even now, as he gets ready to "entertain" the court by indulging in some barbaric ceremony of his, his eyes are trained only on you. 

It's uncomfortable, to say the least, having him stare at you, while you sit surrounded by your family, who, for the most part, say nothing. Except Paul. Your dear baby brother, your protector in all this madness. As Feyd Rautha throws his coat to the side, showing off his (admittedly impressive) muscles, Paul leans towards you.

- He looks like a hard boiled egg, don't you think sister? - he whispers and subsequently ends your vow of silence. 

The giggle you let out is caught quickly by everyone around, your betrothed included, before you press an open palm against your lips. 

- Behave - your mother warns, and you try, you really do.

But in the serene light of the fading sun, your soon-to-be husband's head does look frighteningly egg-ish. God, you'll get yourself killed, before the wedding ceremony is even resolved if you keep this up.

You're seated high in an outdoor theater. One of your grandfather's favorite places, where he used to dance with bulls for sport. Where he met his demise.

Feyd Rautha presents his knives to you and your family, their blades glint ominously in the setting sun. Again, you are struck with the sheer grace this man exudes. His movements, despite being forceful and wild, have a beauty to them, as if he was rehearsing ancient dance moves, rather than killing blows.

And, despite your brother's earlier comment, there is something enticing in the way his pale skin catches the rays of bleeding sunshine, slowly creeping towards the horizon. He's almost beautiful, almost handsome enough to consider. 

The thought leaves your head almost immediately, as the Harkonnen servants bring in his apparent opponent. Your heart drops to your stomach at the sight of a beaten, dark skinned warrior. Immediately you recognize a Fremen, you've read so much about them in your free time. You know how they filter water, what they eat, how they move through the sands, and despite your knowledge you can't fathom, why this poor man has been brought here. 

At your side, Paul shifts in his seat, all jokes leaving him in a hurry. The both of you watch, as the man you're promised to toys with a clearly drugged victim. Slashes bloom on the prisoners skin, blood sprays in the air. You refuse to look away, to show such weakness, even as Feyd Rautha grabs the poor man by his hair and with a forceful push impales his throat on the blade. Blood pours down onto the sand, paints the Harkonnen's face and chest a deep shade of red.

It's a brutal display of power, of cruelty and wildness the Harkonnens are known for. Suddenly, everything Gurney has warned you about, while training your fighting skills, rings like a thousand of bells in your ears. This is who you will marry, who you will spend your entire life with. 

You swallow down an urge to throw up, and stand up from your seat. 

The show must go on, you think, throwing your Mother one, venomous look, trying to force her to understand your pain. Then, you lock eyes with your betrothed, who watches you from below with a cruel smile, blackened teeth on full display. You meant to congratulate him, to play the part as instructed, but you can do nothing of the sort. Instead, you stare back at him, disgust flowing from your features like a broken faucet. 

Lady Jessica opens her mouth, but before she can, without a doubt, scold you again, you're out of the seating area, your footsteps echoing in the halls. 

Once you're sufficiently tucked away from prying eyes, your back hits the wall, and you allow yourself feel the luxury of unbridled panic. Your breathing comes out in fast, shallow pants, as cold sweat forms on your forehead. Thoughts racing, your fingers tangle into your hair, tugging at the roots. This is your future, the only future waiting for you, and it's filled wth pain and blood.

- Have you enjoyed the fight, my Lady? - you immediately know it's him, despite not hearing him speak before.

A gasp of surprise leaves you before you can catch it, and your back straightens almost painfully fast. 

There he stands, tall and lean, and terrifying. Blood still decorates his torso creating a contrast that is both terrifying and hypnotizing. He watches you, curiosity and humor swirling behind his eyes. You can't decide whether they are completely blackened out, or if they hold a blue, almost serene hue. 

- No - you answer, finding your voice entirely too shaky for your liking - I did not enjoy it.

He laughs, a guttural, low sound that makes the hair stand at the back of your neck. You know he wouldn't dare try anything here, right under your Father's nose while the engagement is still in the making. Yet, as you stand frozen, just you, him and the marble walls around you, dread finds home in the pit of your stomach.

- Was that man Fremen? - you ask, partially to fill the silence, partially because you're genuinely curious.

The man shrugs, you can see muscles moving under his white skin. He takes a step towards you and you will yourself not to run.

- Sometimes we bring a couple of captured desert rats home - he explains with a nonchalant tone - Mostly for entertainment.

The almost bored intonation he uses to describe this barbaric ritual makes something boil deep inside you. 

- That's cruel - you counter, emotions flowing freely onto your face, much to the man's delight - To deny those men the honor of dying on their home planet. To drag them into a completely foreign place, just to kill them for sport, like some animals... It's...

- Some of them live - he cuts you off, taking another couple of steps towards you, but in your growing outrage, you barely notice - Our brothels are filled with Fremen whores.

Your face twist into an expression of utter repulsion, and Feyd Rautha raises his eyebrows in a pathetic mask of confusion, almost childlike giddiness lighting up his eyes as he looks down at you.

- Oh, don't give me that look, my Lady. - he cooes, and you've never felt a stronger urge to slap the daylights out of someone - I know for a fact there are brothels on your planet filled with hungry soldiers.

- Yes - you bark back at him - but the people there are working prostitutes, not slaves!

He shrugs, looking somewhere to the side of your face.

- A waste of money, if you'd ask me.

- Good thing no one has - there's venom in your voice, and your betrothed sucks a breath through his teeth.

You curse yourself for leaving your dagger, for not concealing it somewhere in this ridiculous dress, because the way the Harkonnen's expression shifts freezes blood right in your veins. 

He looks at you, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, while something much darker lurks in his eyes. His bloodied hand comes up, finger making contact with the exposed skin of your shoulder. You can feel the thick liquid stick to your flesh, as he drags his hand down, painting you, marking you.

- You're quite the little viper, my Lady.

Watching him silently, you don't respond. Don't know how to, when he closes the distance between your bodies enough to make you feel the heat radiating off of his chest, while the smell of blood and sweat completely assaults your senses. It's sickening, the way he looks at you, like you're a new toy, just waiting to be unpacked and destroyed by too eager hands. 

- My Uncle, the Baron, has instructed me, to be the utmost gentleman to you. To woo you completely - his voice is low, barely above a whisper, as he grins down at you - But I just can't lie to my future wife like that, can I?

He leans closer and finally, you take a step back, sliding out of his space, assessing a cautious stance. His hand almost follows you, the skin of your shoulder feels conflictingly cold without him.

- Once we're wed, I will possess you completely - this time you stand your ground, as he approaches, circling you like a lion stalking it's prey - And then...

He leans down beside you, shoulder to your shoulder, close enough for you to feel his hot breath graze your ear.

- Like the bull that took your grandfather's life, I shall pierce you.

The violent innuendo doesn't slip past you, and with hatred brewing behind your eyes, you look straight at him, forcing your fear to lay dormant. 

- You're disgusting.

- And you're blushing like a lovely, virgin bride should - he concludes, sending an awful wink your way, before withdrawing from you completely. 

Your veins burn hot, as you watch him leave, a selfish confidence painting his steps, and you beg every God in existence to grant you a sword in your hand. Or a dagger. A kitchen knife would do as well. Anything, that would help you cut this unbeatable, patronizing, infuriatingly handsome smirk from Feyd Rauthas face.

Alas, you're left with nothing, only a small glimmer of hope dangling in front of you, after your damned betrothed's words fully register in your brain.

A bride you might be, but certainly not a virgin one. Duncan Idaho made sure of that many years ago. The thought makes you smile, despite nerves wreaking havoc in your body. At least that's the one thing Feyd Rautha won't be able to take from you.

[gyutopia]

overpass graffiti | sim jaeyun

ꕤ DESCRIPTION: “they say we fall in love three times in our lifetime: our first love is the one that breaks us, leaves us hopeless and lost, this then brings us to our second love, the one which picks up the broken pieces of our heart and mends it back together; heals us from the heartache the first left and lastly, our third and final love⏤the love that’s supposed to last. for you, your best friend sim jaeyun happens to be two out of three.”

ꕤPAIRING: best friend!jake x f!reade & second lead!jungwon

ꕤGENRE(S): slice of life!au, soulmate(?)!au

ꕤWORD COUNT: 23.9k

ꕤWARNING(S): loss of virginity, soft dom!jake, sub!reader, oral (f!receiving), p in v intercourse, no protection, drugging (not the reader), underaged drinking, swearing, dry humping, mentions of plan b, mentions of hospitals, possessive!jungwon, mentions of sobriety, heartbreak, allusions to depression, mentions of drinking and smoking, mentions of passing out.

ꕤA/N: i think i have a thing for sim jaeyun and angst.

“Jaeyunie, meet ____. You and her are gonna be best friends.” 

Jake’s mother smiles, a hand lightly on his back, and pushes him forward with a gentle pat.

The moment she steps away from his side however, he panics, looking back at her desperately. He’s met with a smile of encouragement - caring but unsympathetic. Jake swallows harshly, shyness heavy in his throat, and uses all the willpower in his 9 year old body to force himself to look at the small female.

Standing across from him, a girl of roughly the same stature is grinning toothily - or at least she could've been, if she’d had enough teeth. ____, was dressed neatly, her hair laid down with lots of gel and two ponytails with bows holding it all together. Her light purple dress swayed as the gentle breeze blew. In one chubby fist she clutched tightly onto her fathers hand. Jake blushed, if he didn’t firmly believe that girls had cooties he would have sworn her to be the prettiest girl he’s ever laid eyes on so instead he scrunches his nose and says the first thing that comes to his mind and knows will hurt her feelings.

“You’re dirty,” he proclaimes, crossing his arms. “Very dirty.”

At his words, ____’s smile quickly falters and an almost angry look overtakes her face. “Am not!” Sensing his daughter's growing fury, her father steps in.

“____ah, calm down. I’m sure Jaeyun didn’t mean it, why don’t you two spend some time together? Hm? I’m sure you’ll be best friends.”

Not giving his daughter any time to argue, he excuses himself and leaves to go join the other adults by the varanda.

____ crosses her arms and stares up at Jake intimidatingly, “apologize.”

Jake gulps, although he’s a whole head taller than the girl and probably even older, he can’t help but be slightly scared of the icy glare she’s sending his way so he meekly mumbles, “I’m sorry”

However, it doesn’t seem as if ____ is pleased with the half assed apology. She raises an eyebrow and impatiently taps her foot on the grass, “for what?”

He gulps, “for calling you dirty, I didn’t mean it.”

Satisfied with the apology, a wide smile breaks out on ____’s face before she doubles over from laughing so hard. “Y-you should have seen your face!” She abruptly stands and quivers her bottom lip as she stares at Jake, “I-I’m s-s-sorry.” She breaks out into laughter once again, unable to hide her amusement. Jake only frowns and crosses his arms.

“It’s not funny.”

Ignoring his embarrassment, ____ walks right up to him and slings an arm around his neck,  “Let’s be best friends forever, yah, Jaeyunie?”

Usually Jake would have scolded anyone who called him Jaeyunie, his mother and hyung being the only exceptions, but for some reason hearing the name slip out so easily from your mouth seemed comforting. “Okay,” he agreed, slightly hesitant. “You seem kinda stupid, so I can still be number one with you as my best friend.”

You only smiled in response, delighted, before spinning on your heel and running back to your mother and father, who were talking animatedly with his own parents.

What a strange girl, Jake thought. At least she wouldn't be competition.

___

Later that night, both of Jake’s parents and your mother and father were sitting at the table discussing grown-up things while you were in the bathroom and Jake was sitting beside his brother when his name filtered through to his ears. He had been in the process of stabbing the greens off his plate and slowly feeding them to his precious dog Layla when his parents weren’t looking, but at the mention of his name he perks up instantly. 

“...Jake has already been offered scholarships to private middle schools once he finishes elementary but he’ll be attending the private international school his elder brother goes to,” she was bragging again.

Your mother perks up as well, “Wow, that’s so incredible, Suyeon. I think being friends with Jaeyun will really help ____ find some initiative. She’s already so used to being good at things, a little healthy competition is just what she needs.”

Jake’s father nods, gesturing for the maid in the corner to bring over the bottle of wine. “It’s certainly going to help with that. While we’re on this topic, I’d like to invite you to join our study group. We have the best tutors come in and teach the kids after school but only the best of the best are allowed to join, ____ shows a lot of promise.”

Jake listens nervously, watching his father as the maid filled his glass and stepped back.

you’re….smart?

His mother notices him staring, and reaches over to tousle his hair affectionately. “Don’t worry, Jaeyunie,” she croons. “You’ll still be number one. Being friends with kids that are as smart as you is a good thing! You and ____ will have lots more to talk about than you would with anyone else.”

He frowns. He knew sometimes parents lied to kids to stop them from being sad, but his mother would never lie to him. Jake was too clever, he’d figure out the lie before she finished telling it.

“Alright.” He found himself cautious for the second time that day. “As long as I can still be number one.”

Jake in fact did not stay number one for long.

Once you had fully settled into your new life in Australia your grades skyrocketed causing your teachers to bump you up a grade, placing you into Jake’s class, the two of you always went head to head vying for the first rank and each time Jake always fell a point behind.

It aggravated him to no end that you came out of nowhere and completely upended his whole life and identity, Jake had always been the smart one and never had any solid competition so having you seemingly pop out of nowhere and take away the very thing that made him, well him agitated him beyond belief.

But of course this made for a great friendship, while Jake claimed he hated your very existence he soon found himself looking forward to your after school study sessions. You never took them seriously, you always goofed off and made it your life's mission to teach Jake the meaning of fun. It took a while for the boy to warm up to you but you managed to get on his good side with a little bribing of fried chicken and grape soda.

The two of you would wait until your break to sneak out to the fried chicken place down the street to pick up the order you had placed during your tutoring session before heading back to hide in one of the various rooms inside Jake’s spacious home. The two of you would use this time to talk about the annoyances in your life, you would mostly complain about the girls who kept coming up to you to confess their love for Jake and how you were growing quite annoyed with having to turn them down on his behalf. He would only grimace and quickly change the topic to how annoyed he was with you for yet again topping the class rank.

Slowly but surely though, as the two of you began to age, the conversations began to change as he warmed up to you, what used to be pointless bickering and complaining turned into meaningful deep conversations about his fear of attachment, rooted in his father constantly leaving him and his family to go back to Korea for his job overseas. You had slowly become the only constant in Sim Jaeyun’s life and he truly had no intentions of letting you go. You really had become his best friend just like his mother predicted all those years ago.

While it might have taken Jake some time to love you, you loved him from the start. While everyone saw him as the perfect all rounder student you knew he was more than that. You knew he wasn’t perfect, wasn’t some ace who was just naturally talented. No, he worked just as hard- if not harder than his peers to keep up the image he was born to fit. He pulled all-nighters to bring home grades suitable for the assemblyman's son, immersed himself in after school clubs to fill up his resume because God forbid he wasn’t preparing for college at the ripe age of 9, learned multiple languages to become an ambassador for the school and threw himself into learning different instruments and playing different sports to really bring home the title of being an all-rounder.

In everything he pursued, he aced and came out on top. Which is why it irked him to his very core when you came around and knocked him down a peg. You knew right away just how much it bothered him, of course he complained about it every day during your group tutoring sessions but you didn’t really care. If anything it was motivation for you to work even harder to maintain the top spot.

You weren’t doing it out of spite or to intentionally anger him, no you were doing it to show him it’s okay to not always be perfect. It’s okay to rank second, it’s okay to goof off during tutoring sessions when studying is all you ever do, it’s okay to eat junk food when you feel like it and most importantly it’s okay to talk through your emotions with someone. You like to think you ranked first for his own good, to help him realize life is more than just school.

When the two of you reached high school you eased up with working so hard for the top rank but Jake didn’t, he studied all of your summer break before freshman year and placed into a year above you. It annoyed you that you were no longer graduating together but Jake became more lax and carefree knowing he would be graduating a year early, it was refreshing to see a new side of your best friend. Somewhere along the grades of 11 and 12 though, something shifted.

Jake was never unattractive but you never really took note of just how attractive he could be until your junior year.

___

“He’s gonna say no, Sarah.”

“We’re just looking out for you. He’s always hanging out with ____. They’re probably secretly dating, why don’t you just ask someone else?”

“I don’t know why you’re so set on him. I heard he’s already turned down six girls this month. six.”

Jake was just trying to get his calc homework done, bent over in the back of the library with his textbook open in front of him, eyes glued to the page. He spares you a frantic look, desperate to get your attention and convey that it was time to leave before it happened again. 

You, of course, were not paying attention. You were splayed out haphazardly on the chair across from him, headphones in and scribbling in your notebook. You had a smudge of graphite on your nose from scratching it in the middle of your doodling session.

You hum peacefully, completely unaware of your friend's turmoil.

It was everywhere. Prom. It was one stupid night, and he was fully planning on spending it wrapped up in blankets in his living room with you watching romcoms. It was the senior prom and he refused to attend a social event he knew you wouldn’t be at.

Unfortunately, Jake was alone in that feeling, the girls whispering from the table behind the two of you were right. He’d been asked six times. Six excruciating experiences of being cornered by a near stranger who smiled too sweetly and asked him to be their date, six separate occasions on which he’d stuttered a “sorry” and bowed deeply, ducking out before they could say any more.

And by this point, he just really, really didn’t want to have to turn down another girl. He felt like absolute crap.

Jake reaches out, tugging at your school uniform. “____” he whisper-yells.

You shrug him off and pout, “you’ll mess me up. Stop.”

He persists however, this time more aggressive and even goes the extra mile and pulls out one of your airpods. “I’ll buy you dinner please can we just go?”

You finally look up from your work slightly agitated and a full on pout graces your lips, if it were any other time Jake would take a moment to admire how adorable you look but it wasn’t.

“Why do you wanna leave so badly?” you huff out.

Before Jake can answer though he’s cut off by Sarah, one of the girls who has made her way over to your table.

“Jake?”

At the mention of his name his eyes squeeze shut and it hits you like a truck on why he was so adamant to leave. This time it’s the girl from his IB Latin class who he tutored on occasion.

She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, you wonder what Jake’s response is going to be this time. She’s very pretty.

“Yes?” He croaks out. Behind him, you sit up in your seat, ready to step in if needed.

She looks down, hands twisting together and fidgets and steps side to side, but when she sucks in a sharp inhale and looks up her eyes are filled with determination. Jake feels queasy, almost as if he’s about to vomit.

“Do you maybe want to go to prom with me?”

Jake swallows the lump in his throat, guilt twisting everything into a knot. You see his knuckles turn white as he makes a fist and you resume your drawing, knowing what his answer will be.

“I’m sorry,” he manages. “But I don’t plan on going.”

Your brow shoots up in shock, you never figured he was rejecting all these girls because he simply didn’t want to go, you thought he was just waiting for the right moment to ask the girl he truly wanted to go with. You never asked why he was so closed off about prom, you figured he would tell you in his own time when he was ready.

“Can I ask why?” She lets her hands fall to her side. “Even if you don’t wanna go with me, I think you’d have a lot of fun.” She retreats back to her friends before he can respond. Jake tries not to notice the way they shake their heads sympathetically and pat her back in comfort.

“She’s right you know, prom would be fun.” you say as you shut your sketchbook. “Plus, she seems really sweet.”

Jake rolls his eyes “you sound like my mom.”

“Ha ha,” you drawl, stretching and arching off the chair like a cat. “I really don’t understand why you don’t want to go. It’s your last chance to enjoy a high school dance.”

The previous year, while you were in your sophomore year and Jake in his junior year he skipped out on prom, choosing to attend his model UN conference instead as his dad had put an emphasis on how much more important the meeting was compared to prom.

Jake shrugs and reaches for your backpack to pull out some snacks you packed for him, “it makes it real.”

“Makes what real?” you tilt your head to the side and patiently wait for him to collect his thoughts to elaborate on what was bugging him.

Jake sighs. “That this is the end.” he mummers, “after prom it’s graduation, and after grad I’m off to the states for uni…away from you.”

Your heart skips a beat and your hands start to get clammy at his words. You try to subtly rub your hands on your skirt and sit up straighter, confused as to why his words have such a strong effect on you.

“We’ve never spent more than a week apart from each other and now we’re going to be thousands of miles apart for a year. I can’t go to prom knowing you won’t be there and that it brings me one step closer to leaving.” he continues, he doesn’t look at you as he lays his emotions bare for you, rather he focuses on organizing his snack options.

Your heart twinges at the reminder that he was leaving for Yale in the fall, this would be the last summer spent together for who knows how long. As much as the reminder upsets you, you still plaster a smile on your face and playfully roll your eyes.

“Did you forget our promise? You and me, forever and always. We have all of summer to make as many memories as we went and even after you leave we can facetime, technology has come a long way y’know.” You reach out to take the bag of chips he had settled on eating to open for him before handing it back. “Distance means nothing. I’ll always have time for my best friend, plus when I go to Harvard I’ll only be two hours away. Enjoy the time you have left in Australia. You'll probably miss it more than me when you actually leave.”

Jake shakes his head, “doubt it but you do make a valid point.”

You smirk and shrug, “when do I not?” You clear your throat. “Does this mean you’ll go to prom?”

He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and tilts his head side to side before asking, “go to prom with me?”

This time you can’t hide your shock, it’s not odd for you and Jake to be pairs for most social events but for some reason him asking you to be his date for his first and only prom causes heat to rise to your cheeks.

“W-what?”

“What? I can’t see myself going with anyone else, I’m most comfortable around you. Plus when I think back to my senior prom I want to remember how much fun I had and when I’m with you all the stress I’m under suddenly doesn’t matter anymore.” He states.

“Stop being corny,” you hiss weakly, fumbling with the straps on your bag. “It’s not a good look.”

Jake giggles, “what? Do you want me to get down on my knees instead? Do a promposal?”

Your eyes widen, mortified at the idea of him putting together a grandiose promposal. “You’re such a little shit, I swear—“

“Hold on, siri play stand by me by be—“

You pick up your sketchbook and hurl it at his head causing him to duck out of the way and fall out of his chair onto the floor with the force of his laughter. Hearing his laugh causes a pinch in your heart.

When he finally manages to pull himself together and off the ground, he wipes at his eyes and sighs. “Seriously, though.” He hums. “Will you go to prom with me?”

You swallow thickly, averting your eyes to the floor. “Sure.” you say quietly. “I guess so.”

You're uncharacteristically nervous for prom. Your mom insisted on taking the day off from work to help you get ready when you told her Jake had asked you to go with him.

You thought she was being dramatic but she swore up and down, left and right- that this was the beginning to your ‘blooming love story’.

She brought you to a salon to have your hair and makeup done and even splurged on a $900 dress. You’re beyond grateful to have a mother as understanding and loving as she is. Your father is away on business and unable to make it to take pictures so your mom has been documenting the whole day to share with him, the two of you are currently in your bedroom as she paints your toes.

“Mom?”

She hums in reply and puts down a new coat of nail polish on your big toe. “How’d you know dad was the one?”

Your heart is quiet in your chest, a calm thumping rather than the stutter it had been at all week as you wait for her response. She softly smiles before responding.

“He showed up to my dorm room with pedialyte and carpet cleaner.” She caps the nail polish and cleans around the edges of your toes. “We had been dating for some time and I was supposed to attend a business summit with him but I had a stomach bug and threw up all over my dorm. Your dad didn’t hesitate to drop his plans for the day and showed up to take care of me. He was the first person to ever put me before anything else and I just knew I loved him when he showed up with no clue on what to do but willing. He didn’t care about what his dad had to say about skipping the event or anything else, just me.”

You hum and fiddle with your hands as you think back to moments you’ve shared with Jake. The first one your brain recalls is the first time you got your period. Unfortunately it happened during your school's nature classroom trip. You were up in the woods for the week learning about nature and science through different activities and during your first night there you got your period. You walked around the whole day with blood stains on your shorts and cramps you couldn’t account for. You were beyond embarrassed come dinner time. You had no girl friends in the grade to ask for help and the boys made it a show of embarrassing you at dinner by pouring ketchup all over your seat. Jake was having none of it though, he came up to you at your table and wrapped his hoodie around your waist before grabbing your arm and leading you out of the canteen to the nurse on site.

He stayed by your side that night watching stand by me on your phone outside the cabins getting bit by mosquitoes. He didn’t complain or make any jokes of his own, rather stayed silent and let you have the quiet time you needed. When the two of you finally retreated back to your separate rooms you found a little gift basket on your bed filled with different types of pads, tampons, a heating pack and some chocolates. Apparently while you were walking around with stained shorts Jake was going around collecting different menstrual items from the girls in your grade to give to you, his way of helping.

It did make your heart flutter at the time but you chalked it up to your period hormones and never spoke on how it made you feel to anyone…Was that when you started to fall in love with your best friend?

Your doorbell goes off and you feel anxiety seep into your bones. Your mom senses this and holds your hand to give it a firm squeeze. “don’t stress about something you’re not sure about, okay? I want you to have fun tonight - both of you.”

You nod at her, loving how she knows exactly what was plaguing your mind, you let her lead you out your room and out to the living room. She lets go of your hand and walks over to the door, opening it wide.

“Wow.” You and Jake exclaim simultaneously as soon as you see each other. The butterflies in your stomach erupt once again at the sight of him; dressed in an sleek black suit with the first three buttons of his black undershirt undone, his hair has been bleached blonde and styled down with a part in the middle.

“You look…amazing.” Jake breathlessly lets out, staring at you in complete awe.

You blush and flatten out invisible wrinkles in your dress. “Thank you so do you, I love your hair.”

He smiles and shakes his fringe out of his eyes, “thanks. Figured why not try something new. Ready to go?”

“Woah woah woah, hold on, you two aren’t going anywhere without taking pictures!” His mom appears from behind him, “Let me go get my phone real quick!”

Your mom claps her hands as scurries off to retrieve her phone, “Oh, yes! I have to take pictures for your dad.”

Jake walks up next to you and you’re sure your heart is about to beat out of your chest. “You look really great, ____.”

“You’re not so bad yourself. Blonde was a great idea.” You bring your hand up to fix his parting a bit more. “It’s a nice contrast with the all black suit.”

“Yeah.” He swallows, looking down at his shoes.

“Okay! I have my phone!” Your mom says as she returns, instructing both of you to move out to her garden in the backyard and stand by the peonies for the photo.

“This might take a while.” You whisper to him and he chuckles, gently placing a hand on your lower exposed back.

“Won’t you get cold later?”

You shrug, “probably. Good thing your mother raised you to be a gentleman.” It takes him a second to register your words, scoffing in disbelief once he realizes what you were hinting towards but he doesn’t argue knowing he really will give you his jacket the second he sees you shiver.

“Smile!”

___

After a long process of taking pictures the two of you finally head out with Jake driving you guys to prom. Upon arriving you’re amazed at how extravagant the venue looks. Just another perk of attending a private school you think to yourself.

After finding parking the two of you head inside to find your table, you’re sharing it with your two friends Kairo and Mei and a random couple who snagged their tickets at the last minute (Jun and Luna).

“Jake! ____!” Kairo and Mei are in the entryway to the ballroom, waiting for the two of you where they texted they would be standing.

Mei walks forward, a greeting never making it past her lips, as she reaches out to brush Jake’s fringe out of his eyes. “Sorry, it was bothering me.” She mumbles as she steps back.

You know her intentions are innocent but with the way Jake’s cheeks flush red and he can barely meet her gaze you feel a twinge of jealousy and sadness. Since when was he flustered by Mei? The four of you met during SAT Prep and formed your own study group to help each other out during midterms and finals your freshman year (Jake’s sophomore) the dynamic between you all was pretty formal. The four of you didn’t make plans to go to the movies or the mall like other kids your age, it was strictly studying and neither of you minded it. Kairo and Mei fulfilled you and Jake in an academic sense while you and Jake met all your social and more emotional needs together.

So why the hell was he all blushy at Mei fixing his hair? Why didn’t he react the same when you fixed his parting?

“Should we go in?” Kairo asks.

“That sounds great,” you grit out, your grip tightening on your clutch.

Mei slides up next to Kairo and slips her arm back through his. The four of you walk in and find your table. Kairo pulls out Mei’s seat and Jake follows, doing the same for you.

“So Jake, are you excited for commencement?” Mei asks once you’ve all taken your seats.

Jake clears his throat, “more nervous than excited. Can’t believe it’s all finally over.”

The three of them go back and forth in idle talk before Jake slowly eases his way out of the conversation, mindlessly nodding at what your friends are saying and leaving you to your thoughts.

He’s uncharacteristically silent though as he bobs his head to the music. Seeing as you know him better than yourself, you know he’s nervous - but why?

Was he thinking of Mei? The thought makes you feel sick; you have no reason to be jealous because you’re just his best friend and your feelings are a jumbled mess you can’t navigate through- you don’t even know what you want from him. He can’t fix what he doesn’t know is broken.

Your mind is absolutely blank as you stare down at your hands on your lap. You only snap out of it when a large hand engulfs yours, but you don’t dare to look at him. You can’t.

“Are you okay?”

There they are again; the stupid butterflies winding up in the confines of your stomach. “Yeah,” You remove his hands from yours, “I’m fine.”

Jake reluctantly lets you pull his hand away, knowing something’s wrong but he doesn’t want to push. You compose yourself and remind yourself about your words to Jake; this is his last school dance. It needs to be memorable.

So you’ll make it memorable.

As the night goes on with the food served and multiple performances happening, you’re able to loosen up and forget your worries.

“Do you want to join the dance floor?” Kairo asks as he eyes the growing dance floor.

“No.” You frantically respond, earning a look of judgment from Mei.

“Yes!” She exclaims, grabbing both you and Kairo before dragging you out of your seats with a gleeful giggle.

You try to grab on to Jake for help, but your hand merely grazes his as you’re pushed to the dance floor. On the dance floor, other people have jumped into the idea of dancing and in no time, it’s filled with dancing students.

A little while later, Jake joins the three of you and your little dance circle moves around each other for a few songs; you’re all laughing and you’re genuinely starting to enjoy yourself. Eventually, Kairo and Mei leave to go take a breather leaving you alone with Jake.

“Are you feeling any better?” He leans down to your ear and tries to speak over the loud music.

You nod, “Ye-”

You’re cut off by the loud upbeat music dying out and picking back up but this time a soft violin intro fills the room, you recognize the song instantly. The live orchestra begins playing the chorus of nobody gets me by Sza, you watch as everyone around you pairs up and when you turn around, Jake is already looking at you with a small smile tugging on his lips.

His ears are tinged pink as he offers you a shrug, “Do you wanna dance?” He holds out his hand to you.

You take it with baited breath and immediately at the touch, the butterflies are at it again. You step closer to him and place your other hand on his shoulder while his other goes to your back, where your skin is exposed.

He’s gone back to being unusually quiet again; he’s just leading you to the slow beat of the song and looking away, only meeting your eyes when he catches your lingering gaze.

“____, you’ve been out of it all night. Are you really okay?” He quietly asks, his brows furrowing.

“I…” For a moment, you consider confessing what’s weighing on your heart but you panic. How would he react if he knew?

“____?”

“I think I’m in love with you.” You blurt out, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as soon as the words come out. You feel a little lighter knowing you’ve said your peace but your heart races in panic as you wait for his response.

“Oh,”  Jake whispers. It could have been your imagination but you swear his eyes look just as dizzy and unfocused as your own. His lips part maybe to say something more, but close as quickly as they opened and his gaze flickers down to your lips.

“I-” You choke on your words, shame and regret instantly flooding your body. You want to curl up and hide in a hole but you can’t. Jake is holding on to you too tightly and you’ve already let the cat out of the bag. Might as well get it all off your chest. “I-I don’t know when it happened but I know my feelings aren’t platonic anymore. You’re all I can ever seem to think about, when you touch me it feels like butterflies are swimming in my stomach and the thought of you even being interested in someone else makes me sick to my stomach.”

You take a deep breath, “I think I’m in love with you Jake. I love the little things that make you Jake, your obsession with math and physics, your ability to make anyone you speak to feel truly seen, how you rely on God to get you through hardships you face.” You continue to drone on and on about the quirks you love about your best friend, not noticing the way his lips tip upward in a wide grin.

“I love you.” You confess.

“____?” He asks, voice even.

“Yeah?”

“Stay still.”

Jake steps forward and wraps his hand delicately around the back of your neck, he doesn’t miss the way your hooded eyes follow his movement. He stands up straighter, he’s so close that your noses brush against each other ever so slightly. 

The flush on Jake’s cheekbones is clear as day, a lovely rose pink.

He takes one final deep breath and leans in to plant a kiss on your awaiting lips. The moment your lips touch, you feel a spark of electricity jolt through your body but as quick as it comes, however, and before you can react, he’s already swiftly pulling away.

When the two of you pull back, your eyes are wide open, gaze fixed on Jake’s face, his lips left slightly parted. His entire body is vibrating with warmth and anxiety, hardly able to keep still.

Jake stares at you, still feeling the desire pooling in his stomach, and wonders if he had made a mistake.

“____,” Jake calls, quietly. “____.”

He begins to hold his breath. Did he overstep?

“Did you…” You begin, eyes wide, flickering rapidly across his face. “Did you…just…”

“Yeah,” Jake replies, his voice cracking a tad. “Yeah, I did.”

There’s a silence between the two of your for a long second before you collect your bearings and clear your throat and say,

“Do it again.”

Jake feels numb, unable to be shaken or moved by the world around him, so he steps back in and tilts his head to the side, kissing you once again like you asked. 

You can barely hear the crowd around you over the sound of your own heartbeat.  Jake kisses you softly, almost shyly. A gentle hand slides down to your hip, anchoring you in place, a solid touch while the rest of the world slowly fades away. 

You can’t think about anything other than the feeling of Jake’s lips finally on your own. You continue to kiss Jake until you feel his hand leave your hip and he gently pulls his lips away.

You keep your eyes shut for a second longer, body thrumming with warmth and energy, you feel Jake’s forehead knock against yours after a beat. When you finally open your eyes, like always, Jake was staring right back at you.

“I love you too.”

Following prom you feel as though you’re on cloud nine. After your shared confessions and heated kisses Jake took you outside of the venue to discuss where things would go from here. He only had three more months left in Australia before he had to leave for Yale but he knew he would be a fool if he let you go.

The two of you came to the conclusion that you would take things slow and enjoy the little time you had together working towards being a couple and pick things back up once you graduated and made your way to the states to join Jake.

Things truly felt perfect, Jake would come by your home every now and then to take you on impromptu dates with a new bouquet everytime and an explanation on why he chose those specific flowers. On days where he was too busy getting ready for his upcoming semester to take you out, you would pack him little lunches and drive the two of you down to the park you would often visit in your childhood and have little picnics while listening to him go on about how excited he was for the physics program at Yale.

The people who had been in your lives and watched you grow up together were thrilled at the direction in which your relationship was going. Both your parents were delighted when Jake broke the news that you were officially seeing each other on a romantic level working towards eventually dating. You would often have Sunday brunch together after going to church with his family and yours before sneaking off to his room to cuddle on his bed for an afternoon nap.

Had you known this is what would come with confessing, you would have told Jake way sooner but sadly, time had passed and the date of Jake’s departure from Australia was fastly approaching. He has a week left and he’s determined to make it the best one yet.

“Let's road trip to Sydney.”

You stop fiddling with Jake's fingers and turn your head to look up at him from your position on his chest. “What?”

He smiles down at you before placing a quick kiss to your forehead. “You heard me, let’s take a road trip to Sydney.”

You playfully roll your eyes. “Yeah I heard you dummy but why?”

He shrugs and entwines your hands once more. “Why not? It’s my last week and we talked about road tripping down there for spring break but someone,” he pauses to poke at your side with his free hand drawing out some giggles form you his heart warming at the sound, “-just had to get sick the night before we were supposed to leave.”

You let out a groan, “you’re never going to let that go are you?” Jake hums, “absolutely not.”

You huff in thought, “it’s a nine hour drive Jake…”

He sits up forcing you to do the same as well, turning to face him. “We can take turns. Plus my flights’ leaving from Sydney, we could go to the airport together and have a proper goodbye without my parents bugging us.”

You bite down on your lip seriously considering Jake’s impromptu idea. Within the past three months you’ve had to share Jake with so many people- his soccer team, his orchestra friends, his family. Everyone. Alone time was scarce and the thought of a getaway to Sydney where it would be just the two of you and no distractions sounded lovely.

“Okay.”

“Okay? Just like that?”

You hum and move to sit on his lap and throw your hands over his shoulders. “Why not?”

A huge smile breaks out on Jake's face causing you to smile as well, something about seeing him happy always managed to bring you happiness. It should be scary, just how willing you are to sacrifice for Jake but for some reason you always throw caution to the wind the second he comes around. You’d give him the world if you could.

You feel Jake wrap his arms around your waist and slowly slide his hands under your shirt to caress your back. “What's going on in that pretty head of yours, love?”

You begin playing with the hair on the nape of his neck and whisper out, “thinking bout’ how I'd give you the world.” Jake’s hands pause at the base of your back, clearly caught off guard, you look down at his eyes and see how dark they’ve gotten. Desire and love pooling in the hues of his brown eyes. “You are my world.”

He leans in as he finishes his sentence and places his lips on yours. The feeling of his lips is incredibly warm as he pushes them against yours, slightly chapped but otherwise still soft. The amount of emotion he puts into kissing you isn’t like anything you felt before, there’s more desire in this kiss compared to all the others you’ve shared. The feeling of his tongue sweeping against the plumpness of your lower lip and the heat from his body sends butterflies to your stomach.

His hands fall down to your hips, pushing up your t-shirt to feel the softness of your stomach beneath his palms with battered breaths before pushing you back. He makes quick work of flipping you so your back is now on the mattress and it’s him straddling you. You gasp at the feeling of the soft mattress beneath you, his body pinning you deeper back as he continues exploring your mouth with his own.

You pull back slightly, breathing heavily and your lips red and plump with saliva. Jake smirks at the sight, his thumb coming up to pull down your bottom lip with the tip of his finger before moving his mouth to the sensitive skin of your neck.

The strands of his hair are silky beneath your fingertips, gasping and tugging at the roots as he bites down on a certain area of your neck that makes your core clench.

“Jaeyun,” you whisper, whimpering at the feeling of his palm applying pressure lightly against your navel. “Are we-?”

He slowly pulls away from you and adamantly shakes his head. “No.” you whine in protest as he pulls away and lays beside you once more. He pulls you close to his chest before confessing to you. “I want our first time to be romantic, not some quick fuck in my bedroom.” He kisses your temple. “You deserve more than that.”

The Following Day - 1:36PM

“Ready to head out?” 

You whirl around to find Jake standing in front of you and your parents, having just finished packing your suitcases in the trunk of his car and is now looking over at you with a tilt in his head. 

You nod and smile brightly. “Of course,” You say, turning to your mom and dad to bid them one fast farewell. “I was just saying bye.” 

He nods in understanding, waving to your parents, “I promise we’ll be safe and if anything happens you’ll be the first we call.” He says to reassure your parents, more so your dad who was a bit more hesitant to the last minute idea.

Your dad nods stiffly at Jake, “take good care of her. No drinking or scandalous activities, I’m not ready for any grandchildren.”

You gasp at your dads words and swat at his chest. “Dad! Stop embarrassing me!” He only tisks in your direction.

“You know what's more embarrassing? Having to finish your senior year pregn-”

“-Ahhh. Dad, stop it! I promise we’ll make smart choices!”

He chortles at your flushed expression and leans in for a hug. “I’m only messing with you.” You hug him back before pulling away to give your mother a quick hug and kiss on the cheek.

“See you in a week!”

After pulling away Jake steps forward to hug your parents goodbye as well.

“Be safe Jake, we’ll miss seeing you so often! Make sure to call us if you ever need anything once in the states, okay?” Your mom softly says to him as she holds his face in her hands, tears slowly filling her eyes. Over the years Jake has slowly become like a son to her, she was used to cooking extra knowing he’d come over for dinner after your tutoring sessions. She had even turned one of the spare bedrooms into a personal room for Jake, allowing him to sleepover when his parents were out of town for business.

You can only imagine how much she's going to miss him, maybe as much as you know you’ll be missing him.

He nods and sniffs, is he crying too? “Of course auntie, I’m really going to miss our Friday night movie marathons.”

You smile bitterly beginning to fight back tears of your own. Your father was always away for weekend meetings in Melbourne starting Friday night into Saturday evening and as captain of the varsity volleyball team you had late night practices every Friday meaning you wouldn’t be back home until the dead of night and your mother was left all alone. Jake, having nothing to do once classes were done would often go over to your home to keep her company so she wouldn’t be all alone in your home. It was a little tradition the two kept up over the years.

You hadn't given yourself time to really mourn the idea of being separated from Jake for an entire year but watching him say his tearful goodbyes to your parents is really putting into perspective just how entwined your lives are. He’s your everything and how he’s leaving, how are you going to manage your senior year without your best friend?

 “We should get going.” 

“Mhmm.” You look over at Jake and reach a hand out to wipe away his fallen tears. “It’s okay.” 

The two of you say one last goodbye before getting into Jake’s range rover, you look out the window to see your parents waving you off. You slide back into the passenger seat of his car and put on your seatbelt now processing the fact that this is the last week you have with Jake.

There is a silence as Jake is starting the car, and a part of you wants to die. On one hand you want to cry and beg him to stay but on the other you know if you do, Jake will differ his offer and take a year off to be with you. That’s the last thing you want, he deserves happiness. That’s all you’ve ever wanted for him. If that means braving a smile for now while your heart is in turmoil so be it.

Jake is the first to break the silence.

“That was a lot harder than I thought it would be.” He drives down your driveway before making a right to pull into the neighborhood.

“Goodbyes are never easy.”

“Yeah but…I didn't cry when saying bye to my parents but something about your parents made leaving seem all the more ...real?”

“It’s only natural, you spent more time with us. You’re like their second child.”

Jake hums in thought, “I don’t think I’lll survive having to say goodbye to you.”

You purse your lips thinking about what your goodbye would be like. Would there be tears? Unspoken words? “I think you’ll be just fine.” You reach out for his right hand that lays on the gear shift and hold it tightly. “It’s only temporary.”

The next nine hours are spent singing old 90’s love songs and making pit stops every now and then to stock up on some new snacks and to switch off so Jake isn’t so tired. During your third stop is when Jake pulls out a camera and begins vlogging the remainder of the trip claiming it would be nice to look back at it once the trip is over.

Once you finally make it to your destination, you pull into the driveway and place the car in park before looking around at your surroundings. The home is modern with nothing but natural light, it’s surrounded by trees to still give you enough privacy but it’s secluded from the other homes on the lane.

“Oh my gosh it’s so pretty.”

You open the door and immediately extend your legs out onto the solid ground beneath you. You let out a sigh of satisfaction and Jake laughs from next to you. 

He’s opening his own car door soon after, but he straightens up into a standing position pretty quickly and stretches upwards. He closes the car door behind him, watching as you eventually pull yourself together to do the same. 

You turn to face him. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.” You gesture towards the airbnb and earn a nod from Jake, who mentions something about doing the same thing. You meet back at the car a few minutes later. 

Jake gestures to the trees surrounding the home. “Want to take a walk around the area? I think I saw a park when we pulled into the neighborhood.” 

You nod. “That sounds like a good idea.” 

“Why don’t you get started? I’ll catch up.” Jake watches you leave, before opening the trunk of his car and rummaging around. 

He does catch up with you, quickly enough that you hardly notice that he had sent you out first. You hear his footsteps, and the call of your name, causing you to turn around. “Jake!” 

The sight before you makes you smile brightly. Standing before you is Jake, with his polaroid in hand. The lens is pointed right at you. As soon as you’re staring straight into the camera, Jake grins. “Say cheese” 

You giggle and close your eyes before making a little peace sign. You hear the little click and the flash illuminates your face. You open your eyes to find Jake smiling down at the little printed picture waiting for it to develop. “I can’t believe you brought that.”

“I’m a photographer at heart, what did you expect?” Jake teases back. “Besides, it’s really pretty around here. I need some pictures for my dorm.” 

You blush at the thought of him putting up a picture of you on his dorm wall. The pair of you begin to make your way to the park, taking in the view from different angles. The stroll is mostly just to get rid of the pent up energy, but it’s still a nice view to admire. As soon as you arrive at the park you ditch Jake to run to the swing set.

“Push me?”

Jake rolls his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief but still walks behind you to push you forward.

“Did you know my brother and I got in trouble with our mom because of how high we would swing you?” Jake giggles, “she was worried we’d push you too high and you’d go flying.”

“I blame your brother. He turns everything into a competition.”

“So do you!” Jake exclaims. You quickly stop the swing with your feet to turn back at him with a judgmental look on your face. “When we were a little older and Jaehyun left us to push each other you would get annoyed that I didn't push you as hard as you did for me.”

“It's true though.”

You scoffed, “at least I didn’t actually push you off your seat.”

He laughs at the memory, “we’re stronger now, do you wanna see who can go higher?”

“knowing exactly how strong you are… uh, not really? but whatever, let’s do it!” you brace yourself on the swing and start pulling yourself back to get momentum.

“Okay, wait! Wait!” he rushes to the seat beside yours and pushes it as far as his hips can go, already giving him an advantage. “Okay, go!”

Childish laughter escapes both of you as you let yourselves swing back and forth, trying to put your weight in properly to reach higher than each other. it really felt like you were kids again, you felt at peace, a part of you never wanted this night to end.

The next few days fly by and just like that it’s the night before Jake’s flight. You had spent your time in Sydney visiting the opera house, late night dinner dates and excursions all over the bustling city. There truly never was a dull moment within this week that’s come to pass. Getting to make new memories with Jake is exactly what you needed.

The two of you have just gotten back from dinner at Altitude, a restaurant overlooking the opera house. You’re now in your shared bathroom dressed in one of Jake’s old tee’s and a thong doing your nightly skin care routine as Jake undresses in the bedroom, getting ready for his nightly shower. You look at his reflection through the mirror as he takes off his shirt. Your eyes skim down his toned chest, desire pooling in the pits of your stomach. Throughout your time here it’s been nothing but makeouts and little pecks throughout the day. You wonder if he’ll finally make a move tonight.

“I can feel you staring, love.”

“That’s the point.”

Jake doesn’t say anything in response but rather slides up behind you and peppers your neck with gentle kisses. He cages you between his body and sink and presses his hips into your back. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his fully hard cock pressing against your lower back.

Jake’s eyes rake your body through the mirror, desire burning in his irises. he shifts his eyes to stare at your lips before moving back to turn you around and face him and press himself directly to your front before leaning down and in. He takes his time, giving you the opportunity to pull away but you don’t. You want this.

He leans forward and allows his lips to graze yours, the faintest of touches. “Are you sure you want to do this darling? We don't have to.” Jake asks softly.

You shyly nod your head and lean in to close the gap but he pulls ways and shakes his head, “no love. I need to hear you say yes.”

“Yes, I want to do this, Jaeyun.” You push forward allowing your lips to touch. He groans once your lips make contact. You’re unable to focus on anything other than the feeling of his lips on yours.

You can faintly taste the shirley temple he had at dinner on his tongue. He sucks harder on your lip and brings one hand down in between your things to prod at your pulsing heat.

He pulls away to let his eyes drink in the sight of you before leaning down to pick you up. you let out a yelp and grasp onto his biceps for protection, “w-what are you doing?” You sputter.

“I can’t make love to you properly on the sink, darling.”

You blush at his words and bury your face into his chest, after a few strides Jake is gingerly placing you on the bed.

He gets onto his knees and straddles your hips before reaching out to help you out of your shirt. You breathe in deeply savoring the way he feels pressed against you. the feeling of his warm fingers moving under the hem of your shirt across your stomach. He lifts it off of your body and tosses it across the room.

“Thank you for trusting me with your body.” Jake says before leaning back in and places his lips on yours yet again.

You moan into the kiss before he trails kisses down your jaw to your neck, his teeth brushing over your skin and making you shiver regardless of the heat being provided by Jake’s skin pushed up against yours. You close your eyes and relish the feeling.

With his lips still pressed against your neck, he whispers, “what do you want love?”

Your eyes flutter open as he slowly pulls away to look at you.

“I won’t do anything until you tell me what you want.” He reiterates before placing his lips back onto your neck, biting down making it harder for you to form a coherent sentence.

“I-i don’t know.” You say breathily but he chuckles in your ear, “yes you do love, tell me what you want so I can make you feel good.” He says as he gently tugs at your underwear, you whine and raise your hips off the bed to allow him to take it off faster. He tisks, “I need to hear you say it.” You look up at him to meet his gaze, “I want you to touch me.”

His gaze hardens, “spread your legs doll.” He orders.

He shifts his position and allows you to spread your legs before slotting himself in between them. He taps his fingers against your hips silently asking you to raise them. You shyly lift them to the best of your ability and let him pull them off of you, your arousal clinging to your underwear and clit.

Once you’re completely naked, he brings his lips to your chest and roughly kisses your skin, his tongue probing at your nipple. You whimper when he bites your left nipple, the feeling overwhelming. He pulls back and looks at your bare body.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful.” He mumbles before leaning down to toy with your pussy.

“You’re so wet too. Did our kissing turn you on so much, love?” Jake asks, smirking down at you. your face heats up at his words but you don’t respond. He looks back down at your pussy and shifts his position so he’s laying down in front of your pussy. He lets his pointer finger circle your clit for a little before running it along the slit of your folds. You let out a mewl at the feeling wanting more. “P-please Ja..” You moan.

“Patience, love.”

He dips one finger into you and you hiss at the feeling. It’s been a while since you’ve been touched down there and you’re extremely sensitive. “You’re so tight,” he says, pushing his finger deeper until the entire digit is buried snuggly inside you. You close your eyes and tug at the bedsheets, loving the feeling of him fingering you.

You’re a moaning mess by the time he manages to slide his whole finger into you. You clench around his fingers as he slides them in and out of your snatch and grasp onto your bedsheets. “Does it feel nice to be stuffed with my fingers?” Jake asks.

You know your voice will fail you so you adamantly nod your head. Jake picks up the pace and your hips move to his strokes. Jake licks his lips when he feels your walls clenching tightly around his digits.

“I-i think I’m close.”

His fingers curl inside of you which causes your hips to jerk upwards. “Are you cunning?” He asks cheekily.

You nod eagerly, “yes!” your eyes snap shut as you enjoy the feeling, “o-oh my gosh” you cry as you feel him kiss the inside of your thighs. He trails the kisses upwards until he’s face to face with your pussy and places a soft kiss on the nub before sucking on it, his tongue flicking around. He pulls his pointer and middle finger out so he can eat you out freely.

He licks the slit of your folds and firmly grips the flesh of your thighs most likely leaving marks.  Marks that would remind you of this moment later on.

Jake picks up the pace, he’s going so fast that you let out a quiet scream. You fist and unfist your sheets as you rock your hips against his face and come.

Your orgasm hits you so hard that tears fill your vision.

Jake allows you to ride out your high before coming up from your private parts and leans back down to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Are you feeling alright love?” He asks as he strokes your hair. You’re heaving, trying to catch your breath.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to continue?”

You nod but then remember Jake wants verbal responses, “I do.”

Jake wastes no time in removing his shorts and boxers and gently moves up your body. you wrap your arms around his neck. “C-can you be gentle?” You sheepishly ask.

Your question sends an immediate reaction to Jake’s dick, he swears he could have busted a nut right then and there. “Of course doll, I'll be gentle.”

He tentatively strokes your folds with two fingers, eyes darting back up to yours to check your response. You hiss, still a bit sensitive. “Is this okay? Are you sensitive?”

“I’m fine,” you assure, “go ahead, I’m okay.”

He nods, gathering some of your wetness and smears it on his cock, a moan of relief leaving his swollen lips. “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be buried inside of you,” he says, angling himself better and positioning his cock near your entrance.

“Please,” you whimper, biting back a cry once his length breaches your entrance. Jake lets out a guttural growl, slowly sinking into you and bottoming out letting you adjust to his length.

“You’re so beautiful.” Jake says, rolling his hips torturously slow. “You were made for me, love. Just for me.”

You open your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I’m ready, you can move now.”

Jake leans forward to place a kiss on your cheek, then on your jaw, and then on your neck. As Jake busies himself there he slowly begins to thrusts in and out of you.

Your hands are all over him; clawing his back, gripping his biceps. “Love,” he whispers, “you feel so good.”

The sound of your bodies slapping against each other plus your loud wanton moans and the creaking from the bed is all that can be heard reverberating around in the home. He thrusts two more times, his hips stuttering before he chokes out, “mm gonna cum.”

You scratch at his sides and bite your lip to suppress your moan, “m-me too.”

“You can cum love,” Jake coos. He wraps his arms around you and hugs you closer to his body, the feeling of your chest pressed against him and his dick pounding into you is enough to send you over the edge.

“I’m cumming!” You mumble into his skin. Jake groans at the feeling of you cumming on his dick before his hips still and he comes inside you painting your walls white.

His lips are on your shoulders and neck, softly sucking on patches of your skin and murmuring sweet nothings as you calm down.

“Fuck.”

Jake pulls out and looks down at the mess of the sheets, now that he’s no longer caught up in his lustful haze it dawns on him that the two of you didn’t use protection. So much for smart choices.

As if now remembering yourself you shrug, “I’ll just grab a plan b tomorrow.”

Jake nods, “I’ll send you the money for it.”

His body then drops to lay beside you and he pulls you in close with the promise of a hot shower after a few minutes of decompressing. You roll over and sit up, swatting Jake’s hands away as he reaches for your arm. “Wait, I have something for you.”

He hums, interest piqued. “Huh?”

You open the bedside drawer where you had hidden the card you had written for Jake before the two of you left Brisbane. It was a love letter, all the things you’ve ever wanted to tell him but kept to yourself out of fear. It holds all the words your heart so desperately wants to tell him before he leaves.

“It’s not anything extravagant but I know you care more for sentimental things anyway.” You hand him the card, “don’t read it until you’re on the plane.”

He looks at the light pink envelope decorated in stickers and his name written in neat calligraphy in the center, the faintest smile on his face but a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“I love you.”

The way he says it sounds different from all the other times he’s ever told you. Almost as if he needs to convince you that he loves you but you know. He places one last kiss to your lips before pulling you back down to cuddle.

“I’m going to miss you.”

Jake hums, “me too.”

The room slips into a comforting silence and eventually you drift off.

8:41am

You wake up feeling cold. You whine and feel around for Jake’s body but when you feel nothing you open your eyes and softly call out for him. “Jake?”

When you’re met with no response you sit up and look around the still dark room. You stand from the bed and reach for your shirt that was still on the ground. You hadn’t intended to fall asleep, it was only meant to be a quick nap before the two of you took a shower together and watched movies until it was time for you to head to the airport.

“Jake? If you’re trying to scare me, give up.”

You’re still met with silence and you begin to feel uneasy. “Jake?”

You search the living room and your heart drops. His things are gone, his shoes, his suitcases. Everything. You run back to the room to see if it’s really true, if Jake left without saying goodbye. What you find breaks your heart even more. All his toiletries are gone, all that's left are your belongings. You let out a sob when you find the love letter you had written for him laying atop his pillow, opened and crumpled at the sides, proof he had read it but didn’t care enough to take it with him.

You drop on to the bed in shock and disbelief, tears sitting in your waterline. You turn to look beside you, staring at the letter as if it had burned you, the only trace that Jake was ever here is his scent in the sheets. You look at the alarm clock to see if you’ll be able to make it to the airport on time and bid him a proper farewell, your heart sinks once again when you realize you’re far too late. It’s 8:50 and his flight leaves in ten minutes. You sniff and decide to not dwell on it, Jake probably had his reasons and you have to get ready to go home.

You strip out of your shirt and discard it on the floor before walking into the bathroom to start your shower. You step into the shower, toes flinching as they touch the chilled ceramic floor. Your mind is in shreds; how could Jake leave without a goodbye? You turn the dial, releasing thousands of frigid drops, wetting your hair and trickling down your back. Your eyes fall closed and images of last night cross your mind.

You want to scream. Did last night not mean as much to him as it did to you? Was this all so he could fuck and just leave? You wrap up your shower and step out to brush your teeth. When finished, you dry off and head for your suitcase to pick out an outfit. You settle on sweatpants and an old graphic tee with slides. Once dressed and ready for your journey back, you finish your packing and look around the house one last time to see if maybe Jake left anything for you, maybe even an explanation. All you find is a plan b box on the kitchen counter next to a water bottle. You pick up the pill box and exit promptly and throw your things in the back of Jake’s car. You look down at the passenger seat where the letter you had written for him sits. You pick it up and examine it one last time before shoving it deep into your backpack.

Maybe this was less painful than having to say goodbye.

It in fact was not less painful. A day passed, then two, then a week, then a month. You stared at your phone at all hours of the day, calling and texting waiting for confirmation that he had arrived safely and an explanation on why he went ghost but it never came.

You started your senior year alone. That was the first time you ever realized just how dependent you were on Jake, you had no other friends to go to the movies with, you spent your senior appreciation week alone, you had no one to make plans with when the weekend would roll around. Maybe you should have made deeper connections. You slowly started to lose sight of the end goal, Harvard had always been your dream but your mind was in too much turmoil to see it meaning anything without Jake, your heart can’t stand to be near him but not have a connection to him. You had heard from his mother that he had settled in at Yale and was enjoying his time abroad. You never told your parents what happened down in Sydney, you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it without crying.

Eventually you began to decline, your grades took a hit and your GPA dropped from the perfect 4.5 it had been sitting at for the past four years to a 3.2. You started failing your core classes and you were kicked off of the varsity volleyball team. Your parents couldn’t understand the sudden change in you. You stopped talking to them, stopped going to your tutoring sessions and stopped caring about life itself. You would only go to school when you felt like it and come straight home before locking yourself in your bedroom. When time came to send in your college applications you didn’t know what to do. You knew Harvard wouldn’t want you and you never considered any other options. You sat down with your guidance counselor and she gave you some options. The majority consisted of staying in Australia, letting you know it didn’t seem possible to go abroad. You limited your application process to four schools, two in Australia and two in Massachusetts. If Harvard didn’t want you, maybe a private school would grant you admission and you could transfer in your sophomore year.

As much as you wanted to be far away from him, Massachusetts happened to have all the top schools that were realistic for you. You applied to Northeastern and Boston college. Neither were the ivy leagues you were hoping to attend but private institutions nonetheless. You sent in your applications for early action, praying you would get in and get to leave Australia behind. You were suffocating here.

Luckily for you, your acceptance letter came from Northeastern and you were quick to accept. You were waitlisted for Boston College and accepted to both Australian unis but you had decided where you were going. You toured Northeastern in the spring with your mom, you both absolutely fell in love with the campus. It was right in the middle of the city, across from the train system making getting around easy. You got to meet the girl you would be dorming with, Avianca; Avi for short. She was very bubbly and sweet, and very opinionated. She had grown up in Boston with her mother and two brothers. Her mother was unable to join the two of you so you went out to brunch with her and your mother. After that your mother left the two of you to go shopping for some things for your dorm.

“Are you excited to start in the fall?” Avi asked as the two of you browsed targets room decor.

You shrug and hug yourself, “I guess.”

Avi stops to look at a large beige throw pillow, “that's all? Aren’t you excited for the new experiences?” She looks up at you, “the boys?”

You play with the tag of the pillow in her hand. “I-” you hesitate and she picks up on it.

“Unless…” she smirks up at you, “you have a boyfriend?”

You pause. Could you even consider Jake a boyfriend? He never officially asked you to be his girlfriend but the two of you did way more than what other couples do in a lifetime. As if reading your mind Avi hums.

“Ahh, I see. It’s complicated?”

“I guess you could call it that.”

She tosses the pillow into the cart, “is it over?”

You continue walking down the aisle as you think back to Jake, this would be your first time ever saying what went down outloud. You were hesitant to tell your parents because of how close they were with Jake, you didn't want this affecting their perspective of him but Avi doesn’t know him, she’s unbiased. And that’s how you found yourself crying inside a target finally opening up about just how hurt you were by Jake’s actions.

Once you finish telling her your story from start to finish, Avi is embracing you. “Jake is a dick. You did not deserve that. I’m so sorry.”

Avi spends the rest of your time together comforting you. She lets you rant about Jake and gives you her two cents every now and then. You felt a little embarrassed at how much you were crying but Avi was quick to reassure you letting you know it was actually time you let it all out. The two of you exchanged numbers before parting ways again and she made you promise to keep in touch with her while you were back home in Australia until your move-in day and that's exactly what you did.

After flying back home you slowly started to rebuild. Jake isn’t a part of your life anymore and you can’t continue to wallow in your self pity. It was time to let go and move on, you would be starting your freshman year of college in four months. You don’t want to be stuck up on someone who wasn’t even thinking of you.

You took the time to learn new hobbies as you didn’t have volleyball to lean on. You took up baking for a bit before getting bored and moving on to painting. You learned how to knit and made yourself some mittens and a scarf to prepare for the cold Boston weather. You even took up photography, opening up a private instagram account to post your pictures as you traveled around Europe during June. It was a graduation gift from your father, you had stops in France, Wales, Germany and Spain. You spent a month traveling before heading back south.

You flew to New Zealand before officially going home to explore the mountains, it was a nice reset. Jake had promised to visit with you but it never happened and you weren’t putting things on hold for him anymore. You would facetime with Avi every night, brainstorming ideas for your room and your plans for welcome week. She had no intention of staying in your dorm that first week before classes started.

At first you were hesitant, going to raves and frat parties meant the inevitable. The possibility of running into Jake would be significantly higher and if you didn’t run into him there was still the fact that you would be approached by some man before the night was over. You had expressed to Avi how you couldn’t see yourself entering a relationship anytime soon. You had yet to fully heal from Jake and the thought of being that vulnerable again terrified you.

She only listened before reminding you that you didn’t have to date every guy that said hi. Some below the belt touching and harmless flirting never hurt anyone. She went on to ramble about how you’re entering your prime and have an insanely hot aussie accent that could help you secure any guy you wanted. You zoned out once she started asking you if you could moan for her so she could take pointers.

Your parents could see the shift in you and it brought them relief, they felt more at ease to send you abroad now that you were in a better mental headspace. You left two weeks before classes started to move in and get accustomed to the new environment. Your parents came to help you and Avi move in before leaving to go back home.

It’s now nighttime and you’ve just officially finished decorating.

“So, there’s this rave at slackers tonight, wanna go?”

You turn to look at Avi from your bed as she sits at her desk organizing her makeup. You snort, “as if I have a choice.” She looks up at you grinning.

“Glad you’re aware! Now get up and go shower, you’re all sweaty and doors close at 8!”

You roll your eyes but listen to her nonetheless. You stumble out of your bed and walk towards your closet to try and brainstorm what to wear. “Is there a theme?”

Avi hums, “yeah early 2000’s.”

You scan your wardrobe to see what you can find before deciding upon a baby blue butterfly top you had gotten off of amazon and a mini cargo skirt. For shoes you settle on some old Nike air forces knowing they would be demolished by the end of the night. You head over to the bathroom and begin getting ready. You try not to take too long, making sure to properly wash your body but you don’t take the time to exfoliate. Once drying off and exiting you make quick work of getting dressed and sitting beside Avi to start your makeup while she works on styling her hair. You don’t take too long for your makeup, choosing to opt for a more natural look and go for a half up/half down hairstyle with two strands out in the front.

Once you’re both ready, you grab your student ID’s and bags before heading out and start the five minute walk to the T. As you’re waiting for the train to arrive you take pictures with Avi to post and make a new story post of the sun setting. Once the green train arrives the two of you hop on and head towards the party venue.

By the time you arrive, the line is still relatively short and you’re inside in under thirty minutes. You scan your surroundings, the club lights are too bright and strobing too fast, just asking for someone to seize. The dance floor is crowded with people and there are drunks stumbling all around you.

Avi spins on her heels and smirks up at you, “what are the odds you get a stranger to buy us drinks?”

You quickly shake your head. “Zero! I’ve never done this before Avi!”

She shrugs, “so? Have you seen yourself? You look so hot, ____.” She makes it a point to slap your ass. “You have all the right assets on display, you just have to use them to your advantage.”

You gasp and rub your sore bottom, “okay one, never do that again. Two, why don’t you get a guy to buy us drinks? Put those tits to good use.”

She smirks. “I was already planning on it. But seriously, I promised to help you get over Jake and what better way to do that than getting under a new man?”

You groan. “Sleeping around isn’t going to help me get over Jake.”

“What makes you think he hasn’t done the same?” You furrow your brows at her and she scoffs. “Come on ____, he’s been in the city for a year while you were on the other side of the world. Jake is hot and I’m sure he knows it just like other girls in Connecticut probably do too, what would really have stopped him from getting his dick wet?”

You stay silent, deep down you know Avi is just being truthful and realistic. Jake had no obligations to you and no one to get in his way of whoring around if he really wanted to as much as it may hurt you.

“Okay.”

Avi’s brows shoot up in shock. “Okay? That’s really all it took?”

You nod firmly, “I’m done putting my life on pause for him. Besides, a little flirting never hurt anyone, right?”

Avi squeals and claps her hands together. “Perfect! I better see you throwing it back on some guy before the night ends!”

The two of you decide to part ways to find your prey of the night. Avi makes quick work of heading to the bar where the older men are to see if she can score some drinks while you idle around the dance floor, scoping out the faces to see who you wanted to make a move on. Before you can set your sights on someone, you feel the warmth of a body behind you though they’re not quite pressing against you yet. It doesn’t feel bad, and neither do the fingertips ghosting along the curve of your waist. You press into their touch a little more. The tentative fingers at your waist get more firm once they realize you’re open to their touch.

“Wanna dance?,” the body behind you asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear. It makes chills prick at your skin. You bite your lip to keep from smiling at the sensation. Your hand goes to cover the bigger one on your waist. You’ve missed being this close to someone. 

You intentionally keep the touch constant when you turn around in their hold. Their palm slides along your body till it’s settling on your lower back just above the swell of your ass.

When you look up, your reply gets caught in your throat.

The owner of the warm body behind you is handsome, strikingly so. Tall, strong. Smile dreamy with dimples, and eyes dark. He gives you a soft grin accompanied by an encouraging nod, wanting you to say what you can’t seem to get out.

“Uh–” you sputter with a wince, before clearing your throat, “Where’s the fun in asking?”

You can’t hear his laugh over the music, but you can tell he’s amused by the way his chest rumbles, and how his eyes curl. The hand at the base of your spine moves to your hip, squeezing gently.

His other hand is moving, too, and you track it until it’s tucking some hair behind your ear. You go still and flush when he leans down to your ear again. “If you insist,” he tells you. You don’t get to respond before he’s forcefully turning you back around and pressing his body into yours. The song changes to an upbeat caribbean mix and the sexy stranger has you bent over, one hand in your hair as a makeshift ponytail and the other resting at the base of your spine as he sensually moves his hips to the beat of the song, practically humping you. You can feel yourself getting wet as his clothed dick brushes against your vagina, your miniskirt and thong barely hiding anything. You begin whining your waist to meet his thrust giving those around you a show. Soon, a circle forms around the two of you as people turn on their camera to film. When the song finally ends the two of you separate and the crowd disperses. Some guys stick around though, hoping you would part form your dance partner and give them a chance to feel you humping them but you never get the chance. The stranger leans down to your ear, “I’m Jungwon.”

You smirk and respond with your name. “I’m, ____. Clearly you’ve done this before Jungwon.” 

Jungwon briefly looks surprised, eyes widening like a child before he’s laughing. “Ah,” he muses, guiding your arms to drape over his shoulders, your hands interlocking behind his neck. His hands do the same around your waist as he pulls you a little closer. “Perhaps but clearly the same goes for you.”

There’s a flutter in your tummy that you haven’t felt in months and it’s exciting. Makes you giddy as you blink up at him sultrily.

“Are you complaining?” you ask him.

He adamantly shakes his head, “Of course not, as long as you’re not in a relationship no complaints over here.”

You cock your head to the side. “I don’t do relationships.” You wait a beat before asking, “Is that what you’re looking for?”

He looks up like he’s thinking. Then he’s shrugging. Crowding your space, cheek brushing yours as he talks into your ear again, he answers, “I want what you want.”

Jungwon doesn’t move out of your space like the times he did before, instead pulling you into him a bit more, making your space his space too. Lips brush against the corner of your jaw, just below your ear. Teasing, yet sure. 

“I want to forget–” Your hand twines into the hair at the nape of his neck when he nips softly at your earlobe, making you gasp quietly, interrupting yourself. “–about someone.”

He lets out a smug sound of understanding. “That sounds doable,” you hear him say, before he purrs confidently, “Let me help you.”

Just as the two of you lean in for a kiss you’re interrupted by the calling of your name.

“____!” You pull away to find Avi stumbling towards you. When she’s close enough, she grips onto your shoulders to try and keep herself up. “H-help.”

You look at her in worry and try to balance her but she’s quickly becoming more and more unstable, her words slurring and her body becoming limp. You begin to panic, “Avi? Avi! You’re scaring me, what's wrong!?”

Jungwon steps in to help you hold her up. “Shit, I think she was laced.”

Your eyes dart to his in worry, sensing your panic Jungwon tries to calm you down. “There’s a hospital nearby. I’ll call an uber and we can head over.”

You nod, trying to steady yourself for Avi’s sake. The two of you make quick work of ushering her out of the building and outside to help her get some fresh air while Jungwon orders the uber. It’s there in seven minutes and the three of you rush to the nearest children's hospital.

Once you arrive, Jungwon hands over Avi to the medical staff while you try and give them the information they need to admit her. She’s rushed into the emergency bay while you and Jungwon are told to sit in the waiting area while they pump her stomach.

“It’s going to be okay. We got her here in time, I’m sure the doctors have everything under control.” Jungwon says as he takes a seat beside you. It’s clear you’re distraught and don’t know what to do but it’s also clear that what you need right now is not only reassurance but a friend. Your shoulders slump instantly and you nod despondently. Cautiously Jungwon entwines your hands together, lacing your fingers with his.

He shifts, leaning his body into you allowing you to cuddle into him for some warmth, your lack of proper clothing clearly not helping. You bite your lip to keep in the tears before resting your head against his shoulder. You close your eyes, basking in his comforting presence, letting both his words and presence wash over you and ease your worries.

The both of you sit in silence for long, drawn-out moments before you finally speak up. “I’m sorry, this probably isn’t how you wanted to spend your night.” You pull away and wrap your arms around yourself, “you can go if you’d like.”

Sensing your guilt and apprehension, Jungwon shakes his head softly and removes his bomber jacket to hand to you. You stare at it for a second before taking it and putting it on. “It definitely isn’t how I saw my night going but you clearly need a friend, it wouldn’t be right to leave you alone.”

You twiddle your fingers, “why are you being so nice to me?”

He purses his lips in thought, showcasing his dimples. “Like I said before, it’s clear you need a friend. You’re obviously going through something with a guy you probably really like and your friend is in the hospital after getting laced. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

You blink at him, embarrassed that he read you so easily. “I-” You cut yourself off and look away, feeling the tears start to well up. “I feel so lost and alone.”

Jungwon slowly reaches for you and brings you in for a hug, letting you cry into his chest. “I moved to this stupid city all by myself and now I miss my parents, I miss my home and worst of all I miss him. Avi is the only friend I have and I can’t help but feel like her being in this position is all my fault! She only wanted to go out to help me move on a-and we made this stupid bet about getting guys to buy us drinks and now she’s getting her stomach pumped!” You angrily rant to Jungwon, overwhelmed by the events that have transpired within the last twenty-four hours.

He listens, gently rubbing your back as you let it all out. “It’s normal to miss your life back at home, going to college is hard enough, let alone having to move to a different continent. I understand the guilt you’re feeling but I doubt Avi is mad at you for what happened, you weren’t the one who drugged her.”

You sniffle and wipe at your nose with the sleeve of his jacket, “I guess so.” You pull away from his wet chest to wipe away the remainder of your tears. “I’m scared.” You softly admit.

“Of what?”

“Being alone again.” You whisper, you can’t help but wonder if Jungwon will stay after this, if Avi will be okay enough to stay for the semester. You pray you don’t lose either of them.

“Good thing I don’t plan on leaving.” Jungwon offers with a soft smile, you look up at him gratefully and wrap him in a hug.

“Thank you.”

The two of you spend the rest of the night in the ER, the doctors eventually come to fetch the two of you to join Avi, letting you know that she’ll be just fine and able to return home the following day. Jungwon stays true to his word and doesn’t leave your side until it’s time for Avi to get discharged. The three of you clamber into the back of the Uber Jungwon ordered and drive to your dorms. While sitting at Avi’s bedside the three of you began conversing about anything and everything. You found out that Jungwon was also a freshman at Northeastern majoring in Biochem. On top of that, he was living in the same dorm as you-his room only two doors down.

Once you arrive, you bid farewell to Jungwon with the promise of grabbing breakfast with him and his roommate Beomgyu the following morning before heading into your own room.

“He’s cute.” Avi says as she gently takes a seat on the couch.

“Jungwon?”

She hums, “sweet kid.”

You nod absentmindedly as you gather your bathroom supplies. “I guess so.”

Friday November 15th - present day

Three months have passed since the beginning of the semester and it’s safe to say that you’re beginning to feel at home in the city. Jungwon stayed true to his word and didn’t leave you. In fact, there was never a moment where you were alone. If you weren’t at Snell studying with Jungwon, you were at your dorm watching shows with Avi or at the dining hall grabbing lunch with Beomgyu. 

The four of you have truly become inseparable these past few months and you’re so grateful for the support they provide. It’s nice to finally have other people to rely on rather than having to rawdog life alone. When the four of you aren’t absolutely swamped with homework you grab dinner together at one of the dining halls before going back to your place for a movie night. Tonight happens to be one of those nights.

“Wollastans hands down has the best snack options,” Beomgyu says as he empties the grocery bag onto your living room floor. Avi hums and takes a seat beside him on the floor in front of the TV.

“That they do.” She reaches for the pack of gummy bears and offers some to Jungwon who’s laid on your couch arms wide open as he smiles up at you waiting for you to take your rightful seat in between his legs. He takes a handful of gummies and thanks Avi before patting his chest.

“Hurry up princess, I'm getting cold.”

You scoff and roll your eyes before kicking off your shoes and making your way across the threshold to plop down in between his arms. “What are we watching tonight?” You ask. Jungwon taps your cheek silently asking you to open up, you do and he plops a cherry bear into your mouth.

“Interview with the vampires.” Beomgyu replies as he ques up the show. Once it’s ready to go Avi hands you a blanket to cover yourself with before she cuddles up to Beomgyu, the two of them whispering to each other lost in their own world. You smile softly at them, you and Jungwon have a running bet of how long it was going to take before the two crack and just get together. They’re adamant that they’re just friends but it’s clear as day feelings are there.

You feel Jungwon wrap his arm securely around your waist before he places a soft kiss atop your head.

As touchy and flirty as the two of you are, you’re just friends. Once Jungwon made it clear he was here to stay you found the confidence to open up to him about Jake. You told him about the ghosting, the sex, how much he meant to you and how you don’t think you’ll ever love someone the way you love him or even be ready for a relationship anytime soon. Jungwon understood and made his intentions clear, he just wanted to make you happy. If that meant putting his feelings on the backburner and doing things your way so be it.

It wasn’t a fair deal at all, Jungwon devoted almost all of his time to you, he would walk you home from your late lectures, wake up at five am to run to Tatte to buy you breakfast before your eight ams, turn down girls who approached him in hopes that when you were ready you’d come running to him.

He did it all without complaint, he loves you fully and without restraint. He’s loved you from the start, he loves you the way you wish Jake had.

You can’t help but think about where Jake would fit in your life now. You’ve changed and made sure your new life left no room for him, you tailored your life to make sure Jake could never waltz back in and destroy all the progress you’ve made. You don’t think he’ll fit in with your group of friends anyhow. As this year has come and passed, you replaced Jake with Jungwon. It’s hard to picture Jake falling back into the role of being your only friend in your life.

You have Avi, Beomgyu and Jungwon. They look out for you and make sure to take care of you. It’s a reciprocal friendship, they’re pouring into you just as much as you pour into them if not more.

You snap out of your thoughts when Jungwon softly pinches your side. “You zoned out, are you okay?”

You nod your head and play with his fingers under the blanket. “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you in my life.”

You feel him take in a sharp breath before pulling you into him even more. “I’m the lucky one.”

___

As the movie night comes to a close, you sit up from Jungwon’s hold to stretch, your friends following your actions. You reach for your phone to check the time to see if you can squeeze in one more movie.

“It’s only nine, we can start another show or watch a movie.” You offer

Jungwon wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in closer to his side, “I don’t have anything to do tomorrow, I’m down.”

Avi stands up and clears her throat. “Actually can we go out?”

Beomgyu looks up at her questioningly, “wanna ride the blue bikes around campus?”

She shakes her head, “a Harvard frat is hosting to-”

“Absolutely not.” You cut her off. You haven’t been to another college party since the one at slackers, the sight of Avi getting drugged permanently put you off from the party scene.

She huffs, “why not!?”

You give her an incredulous look. “Are you being serious? You were drugged the last time we went to one, I don’t want to see you in the ER again!”

The boys can sense the growing tension, Beomgyu stands and tries to calm Avi and Jungwon soothingly rubs your arms.

“It was one time! I won’t drink this time!”

“I still don’t feel comfortable.” She throws her hands up and turns to pout at Beomgyu knowing it’s a weakness of his.

“Yah! this is between the two of you, stop pouting at me.” He says in response before turning on his heel to head to your kitchen to raid it for some more food. You huff and turn to Jungwon to have him plead your case but he only shakes his head, he knows better than to get in between the two of you.

“Uh-uh, No. You two figure this out.”

He stands from his seat beside you to go join Beomgyu in the kitchen.

Avi takes Jungwon’s seat and grabs your hands. “I promise I won’t drink! I know better now and the guys will be there! You know they won’t let anything happen to either of us! Come on, _____ please!”

You sigh and shift your attention to the boys goofing off in your kitchen, Avi is right. The boys wouldn’t let the two of you out of their sight, especially Jungwon as he was there for the last party the three of you had attended.

“Fine.”

The living room of the frat is completely packed, people are scattered around the home, either dancing in a large group in the middle of the living room, relaxing in the kitchen with drinks in hand or smoking blunts upstairs. Something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by you is the hordes of couples pressed up against each other and the walls, making out and grinding against each other for the entirety of the house to see without a single care in the world.

You turn to face your friends, “an hour tops then we’re out of here!”

Avi playfully rolls her eyes, “aye aye captain.”

She grabs Beomgyu’s hand and they walk into the midst of the party leaving you with Jungwon. “Want to grab a drink with me?”

You pull your attention away from a guy who’s completely wasted and forcing another to a dance off to Jungwon who’s standing next to you. You shrug, “sure.”

You both exit from the hallway where your little group had clustered and enter the kitchen to grab a drink. Jungwon hands you a water bottle but you nudge away his hand and reach for a red solo cup to pour yourself a shot of tequila. You knock it back and move down the counter to pour yourself some of the punch.

Jungwon watches you in worry as you pucker your lips at the taste of the punch, “I thought no drinking tonight.”

“No drinking for Avi. Plus it’s for the nerves.”

He nods at you and takes a sip of his water. “What has you on edge?”

You look around the kitchen sadly before confessing what’s weighing on your heart. “It feels so odd being here, it was my dream for so long and now it’s just some other school down the block.”

Jungwon hums before scanning the area himself. “Do you regret choosing Northeastern?”

You sigh, “I..” you trail off to really think through your answer. Northeastern has become more than a safety net. You have a family here because of the school, people who love and care about you without restraint and would be crushed if you up and left them. You also can’t help but feel as though there’s a double meaning to Jungwon’s question. “I don’t think so, more so mourning what could have been here.”

Jungwon nods, “are you still thinking about transferring?”

You shake your head. “No, I think it’s time to close the chapter on this time period in my life.”

Jungwon stills beside you, to him, Harvard = Jake and the life you lived with him back at home in Australia, does this mean this is finally the end of you and that dirtbag?

You smile and place your arms around Jungwon’s neck. “I think it's time to start focusing on what I have here at Northeastern…with you.”

Jungwon swears he feels his heart stop at your words, are you finally going to give him a chance? His eyes suddenly gleam with mischief as he rests his hands on your waist and squeezes you a little tighter and yanks you towards him, bodies just centimeters apart as you crash into his chest, all up in each other’s personal space.

Your eyes widen in complete surprise. 

“Are you saying what I think you are?” He teases with a stupidly lowered tone, a smug grin decorating his face. 

You ignore the electricity shooting through you, rolling your eyes and playfully sneer at him. “Don’t be smug, I can still change my mind, you know.” You force space between you two and try removing his hands from your waist but his grip transforms into an iron lock. 

“You wouldn’t.” 

“Try me.”

He pulls you in close and leans in to whisper, “yeah? Then who's gonna do this?” He doesn’t wait for you to question him, leaning in right away to place his lips on yours and cage you between him and the kitchen counter. Your eyes blow out, taken by surprise until you find yourself quickly melting into the kiss, hands gripping his shoulders tighter. Jungwon can’t help himself from opening up his mouth to catch more of yours, lips sensually kissing yours in a slow, unhurried pace. 

You instantly love the way he kisses, completely taken by his pillowy, delicate lips. 

Jungwon doesn’t care if your lipstick smudges onto him or how brash the public display of affection seems; all he cares about is the soft feeling of your lips against his own for the first time and the fact that you’re willing to be his.

He knows it’s going to stay on his mind for weeks. 

You’re beginning to get lost until he disconnected your mouths, only looking at each other with overwhelming feelings and shimmering eyes that depict how nervous you are for this new step.

“Wanna dance with me?” You shyly ask.

Jungwon smirks, his mind recalling the first time he ever met you at that slackers party. “Where’s the fun in asking?” He mocks, you roll your eyes at the familiarity of his words before dragging him out of the kitchen and into the living room to dance away your inhibitions.

The two of you make your way to the center of the room knowing once you start dancing, all eyes will be on you. Jungwon squeezes your hips one last time before turning you around and helping you slowly grind down on him to the beat of the song, once you have a steady rhythm going on he begins to buck his hips to meet your pace.

Just like that night at slackers, you’re bent over whining your waist against Jungwon and catching the attention of those around you. Jungwon sneaks one arm around your front and gently squeezes at your right boob under your crop top, getting turned on by how your butt applies the right amount of pressure to his cock every time you bounce off of it and the lustful gaze of those watching. He could cum in his pants. You have to bite your bottom lip to keep from moaning.

As the song comes to a close Jungwon releases you and places a kiss against the base of your neck, “I’m going to grab us drinks, stay right here baby.”

You nod and let him remove himself from you completely to go get the two of you drinks, you turn around to see if you could potentially find Beomgyu or Avi and spend some time with them until he returns but before you even get the chance to fully scope out the area you feel someone grab onto your wrist and spin you around.

You’re about to tell the stranger off but your words get caught in your throat when you turn around to find a tall blonde man dressed in all black staring you down. You exhale sharply at the way he seemingly undresses you with his eyes.

“You sure know how to put on a show, princess.”

You feel your face heat up a bit at the use of pet name and being called out on the way you were just dry humping Jungwon. Not knowing what to say you wait for him to continue. Picking up on that, the stranger continues, “I’m Jay, what’s your name darling?”

“____” you breathlessly let out.

He hums and pulls you in closer, “sexy name for a sexy girl, who’s that guy? Your boyfriend?”

His hands travel down to grab at your ass over your leggings and you have a feeling that even if you were taken, Jay wouldn’t care.

You bite down a moan at the way he caresses your ass, taking turns between rolling the flesh and pinching it every now and then. He lands a sharp slap to your bottom when you don’t answer, his patience running thin. “Answer me princess.”

You shake your head, “n-no I’m si-”

Before you can finish your statement Jay gets ripped away from you by another male who huffs out in playful annoyance. “C’mon mate, it’s my birthday and you’re ditching me for some action?”

This time, your blood truly runs cold. Standing in front of you in all his glory for the first time in a year and three months is Sim Jaeyun. His eyes sweep over to you and the smile that was just gracing his face begins to slowly fall. Your eyes greedily take him in. You notice he’s dyed his hair back to black and grown it out a bit, parting it in the middle like you used to do for him during your walk to school. His shoulders also seem a bit wider, did he start working out? You even note his style has changed, gone are the tight skinny jeans and random hoodies. He’s dressed in wide legend pants paired with a simple white tee tucked in and Jordans on his feet.

“____.” He breathlessly lets out.

Hearing him call out to you breaks your heart, after all this time you thought you would be angry at him for what he did. Swearing to Avi that if you ever ran into him you were going to rip him a new one, maybe even slap him for having the audacity to hurt you the way he did. But now that you’ve been graced with the opportunity all you feel is a deep sadness, all your anger gone in that instant.

You see Jay’s eyes bug out of his head as he looks between the two of you. “She’s ____?”

Your eyes flicker over to Jay as you make the assumption Jake must have told him all about the two of you. Jake reaches a hand out to grab yours but you instantly jerk away from his touch. He doesn’t deserve it, your mind screams at you.

“Don’t.” You grit out, fighting back the tears.

Jake’s face falls even more at the malice in the simple word, heart breaking at how you avoid his touch but respects it nonetheless.

“Please, let me just ex-”

You don’t let him finish before you’re spinning on your heel and bolting out of the party. You knock into a few partygoers, the alcohol finally taking its effect. You hear muffled shouts of your name as you push past people to make it outside to the lawn. In your daze you don’t see your friends running after you.

You stumble out of the party and onto the lawn. The front of the frat house is nearly empty, save for you and a couple that’s making out on the grass. You stagger towards a bush when the overwhelming feeling of vomiting consumes you. Your stomach contracts violently and all the liquor you had consumed comes back up splattering the bushes.

“____!” You hear Jungwon call out your name before he’s kneeling beside you and holding your hair back.

You heave again and once more the contents of your stomach spray the ground. You sink to your knees and retch until only clear liquid is coming up. Your throat feels sore from the stomach acid that is layering it and your mouth tastes of vomit.

Avi kneels beside you and rubs your back soothingly as Beomgyu stands protectively in front of you, shielding you from Jake’s view as he tries to grab your attention, constantly calling your name.

“It’s alright,” you hear Jungwon whisper as you feel your stomach begin to settle. He slowly ties your hair up for you using a hair tie Avi offers and once he’s sure Avi has a steady grip on you, he’s standing to square up to Jake.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Jungwon asks. Beomgyu’s eyes widen the tiniest fraction at his roommate's question, knowing damn well he can’t fight and Jungown might be alone in this one.

Jake scoffs and steps up to Jungwon, his own annoyance at its peak. “I’m her best friend who the fuck do you think you are?”

Your friends all still at the realization of who exactly the stranger is. Avi is the first to react, scoffing at his audacity from beside you as she looks up at him.

“You know you got a lot of fucking nerve to even call yourself that. You’re the one who ghosted her, you’re the one who left. You don’t get to claim that title anymore.”

Jake falters at the harsh glare he’s receiving from your friends but he’s determined to speak to you.

“You don’t know shit.” Jay spits out from behind Jake knowing the true story as to why Jake did what he did. Albeit shitty, his friend had his reasons and he wasn’t going to let anyone shame him for the decisions he made as a kid fresh out of high school.

Beomgyu swears he sees red. “Watch it.” He says as he shoves at Jay’s chest. Jay, having none of it though, pushes back causing Jungwon and Jake to have to step in and separate their friends before things escalate.

Jake pulls his friend away and harshly whispers in his ear before Jay scoffs and walks away back into the party. Jake clears his throat and turns back to you and your friends who are all still glaring and making a protective front around you.

“Please, ____. I Just need one chance to explain myself.”

Jungwon opens his mouth to respond for you but you're quicker than him.

“No.” Your voice is firm, “you don’t get to hurt me the way you did and expect me to give you the courtesy of explaining why you chose to break my heart.”

From your seated position you can see the tears swimming in his eyes and it almost makes you crack. Almost. But you need to choose you for once. You need to stop throwing caution to the wind when it comes to Sim Jaeyun, he never once did that for you.

“You’re a year too late.”

Still determined and not deterred by your stance, Jake takes a cautious step forward, stopping when Jungwon deems he’s gotten too close and steps up as well to place a hand on Jake’s chest.

“I’m sorry, ____. I know I fucked everything up and-and that I don’t deserve another chance but please-” He chokes back a sob, “please just let me explain!” Avi rolls her eyes and helps you stand. “What good will that do? You’re right, you don’t deserve shit from her. Explaining why you’re a shitty person isn’t going to change anything.”

Although harsh, Avi is right. Hearing him out won’t change the fact that he no longer has a spot in your life, it won’t change the damage he’s caused, it won’t do anything.

“Let’s go guys.” You weekly let out, completely drained and craving the warmth of your bed.

“____!”

You ignore Jake’s call of your name and leave with your friends surrounding you, making it impossible for him to see you anymore. Your heart seizes in your chest at the desperation in his voice as he calls out to you but you keep walking, you leave him behind like he did to you all those months ago.

[November 15th, 12:35 AM]

[jake]: can we please talk?

[jake]: i’m sorry

[jake]: please

[jake]: _____?

[November 16th, 2:48 PM]

[jake]: i know you don’t want to talk to me but please let me explain ____

[jake]: i’ll leave you alone after, i swear

[November 17th, 6:15 PM]

[jake]: i’ll be at caffe nero near newbury tomorrow at 2 until they close

[jake]: please come and let me explain, i’ll leave you alone regardless of what you decide.

Jake stares down at his phone as he hits send, over the past two days he’s been sending you text messages praying you’ll respond but each one has been left on delivered. He doesn’t know if you’ve read them or even blocked him.

He tosses his phone aside and drops down on his hard dorm bed staring up at his ceiling wondering why he let things get so bad. He thought he was making the right decision for the both of you, thought he was doing right by you by leaving you alone.

Falling in love takes courage he doesn't possess at the time. You never stood a chance and it's little wonder why you felt so cheated.

Leading up to his departure from Australia everything was perfect, it was a dream. He had the girl of his dreams, a scholarship to the school of his dreams and for once- a supportive family backing every decision he made. It was new, it was different. It was scary. Jake grew up having to fight for his parents attention and had to work for their love, it was conditional, he had to be perfect. Being given it so freely and easily by you came as a shock.

He knew just how much you loved him, how much you had sacrificed over the years for him, he doesn’t deserve it now and he sure as hell didn’t think he deserved it back then. How could he love you if he barely understood how it worked? He had such a twisted view on love. At the time he thought it came with conditions, that he couldn’t love or be loved without conditions. That it was only a matter of time before the hammer dropped on your changing relationship and you began expecting more from him as a boyfriend, more that he couldn’t give.

Reading the letter was what really did it for him.

Of course he didn’t listen to you when you told him to read it once he was on the plane. He waited until you fell asleep and reached into the drawer to retrieve the letter and began reading it. Jake read it over and over again until he had it memorized, so much so that he still has it memorized to this day. He left you with the original but wrote it down on a napkin on the plane when he realized how big of a mistake it was to leave it. He sits up to walk over to his desk and retrieve his written version of the letter and begins to read it once again.

Dear Jake, my sweet angel boy,

I should have told you this right after prom: that there's this special love that I have deep within my heart. That love is only for you. It is far greater than this world. I wish I could show you how much you really mean to me. If I could only let you feel how much I really do love you in a kiss or a hug, you would begin to feel the love that I have for you.

If I could describe the love that I have for you and use lyrics of love songs or even the sonnets of Shakespeare, it would still be impossible, because the love that I love for you cannot be put into words. You've had my love from the day we met, and you will have it forever. As time goes by, my heart and love for you will keep growing stronger, brighter, and bigger.

Call me your love from this day forward. Although we have two different minds, and souls, we have one and the same beautiful heart. My love for you is unconditional. Please don’t forget that.

I love you with all my heart, body, and soul. I will never stop loving you. You are my life, my world, and everything to me. Distance may keep us apart for a short while but you will always and forever be embedded deep within my heart.

My beautiful love, you are my world and you have been since the first time I saw you. I felt love the first time I looked at you all those years ago in your backyard, and my world became a beautiful place to live in. I often ask myself, what in the world would I do without you now? I hope to never find out the answer to that question.

I’m writing you this letter to tell you how much you mean to me, and to thank you for coming into my life. You are something I never thought could exist for me. You are the best thing that has ever happened in my life, and I don't regret telling you how I feel.

I love you Sim Jaeyun, today, tomorrow, forever.

Tears swim in Jake’s eyes as he places the letter back in the depths of his desk. He wishes so badly that he didn’t run, that he stayed and talked through his fears with you but he was too much of a coward and knew deep down that you deserved better. He never deserved you to begin with and he was a fool for ever thinking a broken boy like him could ever love someone as amazing as you.

After leaving, Jake found it hard to settle into his new routine. He missed your presence every single day, finding it harder and harder to ignore your text messages asking how he was, if he had eaten, if he liked the campus.

By the time Jake had realized how big of a mistake he made and just how much of an ass he looked like, he couldn’t take it back. The damage had quite literally been done and it seemed you were moving on. The text messages stopped coming in, he was removed from your close friends and his mother no longer had any updates for him when he would ask. Apparently, you had stopped going over and it was rare to catch glimpses of you as the school year progressed.

When he had heard from his brother that you were no longer on the volleyball team he wanted to reach out and ask what happened. You loved the sport too much to just quit, especially during your senior year but Jake had a feeling he was the last person you wanted to hear from.

His first semester at Yale was nothing like he expected it to be, everything was dull and lifeless. Every day was the same routine: wake up, shower and brush his teeth, get dressed and head to lectures before studying at the library until midnight because his roommate had a girl over.

He felt like he was slowly losing his sanity. As the end of his first semester came to a close and winter break was fastly approaching Jake decided he had had enough. Yale meant nothing if you weren’t in his life. He knew at that point you had probably sent in your college applications and were practically a shoe-in for Harvard so he did what he thought would bring him peace.

He sent in his transfer application before the end of the semester to be able to start in the spring and got his acceptance right before winter break. He didn’t tell his parents about the sudden decision, knowing they wouldn’t be happy with him but he was done living in his fear. It was what caused him to lose you and he would be damned if he let it happen again.

He eventually told them once everything was set and as expected he received an earful about his decision from his father before he realized how deadset his son was on this before backing down.

Once the spring semester started Jake could slowly feel his world start to mend. Everything seemed brighter at Harvard; the physics program was easier, the people were kinder, he had friends and his new roommate wasn’t an ass.

Jay and Jake clicked the second Jake rolled his suitcases into the new room. Jay took him under his wing and treated him like a little brother. It felt nice to have someone to rely on, sure Jay wasn’t you but he slowly became someone who meant the world to him and he looked up to. Eventually Jay introduced Jake to his friends Heeseung and Sunghoon and the four became an inseparable group. The four of them truly did everything together: they took all their gen ed classes together, they attended each other's sporting events and they would often go to frats together with Jake staying sober to take care of his friends.

The guys never pushed Jake to explore the women that approached him at parties knowing his heart belonged to you. They had heard him go on and on about you on several occasions and knew he only transferred to be close to you. They admired his determination to right his wrongdoings but were truthfully skeptical if it would work. They encouraged him to just text you, arguing the more time he let pass the harder it would be to win you back but Jake argued back that this was something that couldn’t be fixed over text.

The semester flew by and Jake was increasingly getting excited. Once he had submitted his last final exam he was on the first flight back home to Australia in June. He couldn’t wait for you to start school in the fall to talk to you and he was long overdue for a trip back home, two birds with one stone. However, when he made it back home to Brisbane his dreams were once again crushed. His mother informed him about your solo trip to Europe and how your parents had sent you away under the guise of it being a graduation gift but really it was out of fear of your declining mental health.

Jake was lost, he had heard nothing about your mental state as his mother insisted she knew nothing about your life anymore when he would inquire about you over the phone. It came as a shock when his mom sat him down to tell him about you being kicked off the volleyball team rather than you just leaving like he assumed, how you no longer attended study groups and even skip school now. What came as the biggest shock was hearing you didn’t get into Harvard. Jake felt absolutely disgusted with himself.

He had caused this, he was the reason behind your suffering and yet he had the audacity to show up here thinking you would welcome him back. He was right, he really doesn’t deserve you. Look at all the pain he’s caused you and what you’ve lost in the process.

He didn’t stick around much longer after that, He flew back to the states a week before you came back from New Zealand and became hell bent on leaving you alone. He owed you that much, some peace after bringing nothing but chaos into your life.

The rest of his summer was a haze, he spent it getting high or drunk with Heeseung and Jay. He didn’t tell his friends about what he had heard from back home, the guilt eating at him but he made it clear that there would be no Jake and ____. The two of you were officially done.

Heesung and Jay were obviously worried about their friend, they knew of the love the male held for you and to see him so torn up over it that he was drinking all his inhibitions away or smoking until he was numb was alarming but they didn’t stop him.

They did however intervene towards the end of the summer when Sunghoon came back from Korea and Jake insisted the group went to an end of summer kickback. They had never seen Jake so out of it, he got so crossfaded that he passed out at the party and was unresponsive for twenty minutes.

Emergency services had to be called and the party got shut down. It was safe to say his friends were done with his shit and sat him down and forced him to talk about his emotions because they would be damned if they watched him continue down this path and eventually die from it.

That night was an eye opener for Jake and he swore he would get better, promised he would stop holding things in and be more upfront about how he was feeling. Seeing Jay cry over the possibility of his death was what really put things into perspective for him, the thought of you also possibly being torn over him dying got him to take his sobriety seriously.

His friends held him accountable as the new school year began, they cut back on frat parties, made the effort to not drink as much around him and even began being more open with each other due to Jay’s claims of “vulnerability breeds vulnerability.”

It was safe to say that Jake was finally beginning to heal. He knew sooner or later he would have to face the consequences of his actions and he was fully prepared to do so, just not so soon. It was Sunghoon’s idea to go to the frat at Kappa Alpha Theta for his birthday. Jake was fully prepared to say no and spend the day alone. This would be his second birthday spent away from you and he wanted the privacy to read through old birthday paragraphs you’ve sent him over the years and stare at the polaroids he took of you during your getaway to Sydney.

Jay and Heesung were having none of it though and insisted he needed to actually celebrate his birthday like Sunghoon said. Jake eventually caved when the three of them offered to stay sober with him. Seeing you at that party was devastating but seeing you in another man's arms was infuriating. Jake knew he had no right to be upset with you but it irked him that he was no longer the only male in your life. Jay had told him about the dance that took place before everything went to shit and Jake couldn’t help but wonder if you had fully moved on from him. Heeseung had to remind him that if you had, Jake couldn’t be upset with you, he had practically pushed you into Jungwon’s arms the second he decided to leave you behind in Australia.

“How long do you plan on staring at your phone?” Heeseung asks as he enters the younger male's room with Jay and Sunghoon trailing behind him.

Jake sighs and tosses the device to the side, “she still hasn’t responded.”

Sunghoon takes a seat beside Jake on the bed, “give her some space dude I’m sure seeing you at the party was the last thing she expected.”

Jay hums, “you did what you can. Give her space to decide what she wants.”

Jake heeds the advice of his friends. He’s inconvenienced you enough, leaving you alone to decide if you want to meet him is what you need now. He can only hope you do decide to hear him out.

“I don’t think you should go.”

You look up at Avi who’s standing above you on the couch staring down at your phone screen, contempt written all over her face. You gently sigh and lock your phone, letting it fall on the couch with a soft thud.

“I know.”

Ever since the party Jake has constantly been texting you. Avi was beyond annoyed with the male and his inability to- “leave you the fuck alone.” You would read them as they come in, unable to bring yourself to delete the messages like Beomgyu advised when you told him about them.

“Just block his number, ____.” Avi huffs, crossing her arms as she stares down at you. You look away and draw figure eights into the couch cushions as you think.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

It’s silent for a beat, you think for a few seconds before shrugging. “I don’t know.”

Avi sighs and uncrosses her arms. “You’re being selfish.”

You stop drawing imaginary shapes on the couch and fix your eyes on Avi, waiting for her to continue.

“What about Jungwon? Have you stopped to consider what this would do to him if you let Jake just waltz his way back into your life?”

You purse your lips, you haven’t talked to the younger male since the party. He’s been reaching out as well, trying to gauge how you’re feeling with the sudden appearance of Jake but you’ve yet to open them let alone respond.

“I don’t k-”

Avi groans in annoyance, cutting you off. “-I swear if you say I don’t know one more time, ____! Can’t you see how bad Jake is for you? One appearance and a few text messages and look at you! You’re not talking to us anymore, you haven’t left your bed in almost two days! Jake is toxic, this isn’t healthy!”

For some reason you want to defend his name, want to call Avi out on being a bitch but you don’t. You know she’s being logical and Jake doesn’t deserve it so you keep quiet. When she realizes her approach may have been a bit too harsh she softens a bit and takes a seat beside you.

“I’m sorry, I just-.” She cuts herself off with a deep inhale. “Jake will never love you the way Jungwon has. It’s harsh but true. Maybe Jake did have his reasons but that doesn’t change the fact that his approach was wrong. He didn’t stop to consider how hurt you would be and that’s not okay. Do you really want to be with someone who can hurt you so easily?”

She gently pats your back before continuing knowing you won’t answer. “Jake is selfish, he’s only ever cared about himself and Jungwon has only cared about you. Don’t miss out on what could be a great love with Jungwon because you’re infatuated with the idea of being with Jake.”

With that, she gets up and leaves you to stew in your thoughts. She’s right, Jungwon was the one to stay and pick up the pieces. He was the one to show you that love didn’t have to be painful, he’s patient, kind and above all absolutely madly in love with you. He healed you from the pain Jake caused so why are you self sabotaging? Who’s to say Jake won’t hurt you again? That he even has a valid reason for stringing you along?

Your phone buzzes on the couch pulling you out of your reverie. You sigh, expecting to find another text from Jake as you pick it up to look at it only to find it’s not from him but rather the other male you’ve been ignoring.

[November 17th, 7:37 PM]

[jungwon]: do you want to grab lunch with me at tatte tmr at 2?

You want to scream at how fate is playing out, now you really have to choose.

[November 18th, 2:17 PM]

You march up the sidewalk to the sound of the steady patter of rain against the pavement that leads to the little cafe that’s tucked between the huge city buildings and hidden away from view with vines crawling up its side. You come to a stop in front of the door and take a deep breath to calm yourself before entering.

A part of you is scared you’ve made the wrong decision, you want to turn around and run to him but you know you need to see this through. People love to think about the what if’s: what if I chose the wrong major? What if we weren’t meant to ever meet? What if things had just gone the way I had so desperately wanted them to?

For you, it's what could have been that plagues your mind. To you, they’re far worse than what if’s because they were within your reach, the possibility of it coming to fruition so near but never close enough.

Jake has been your biggest what could have been, your almost. You try and reason that it’s okay that you picked him in the end, you need to know why. Why your love wasn’t enough, why the two of you aren’t together, why he was so quick to give up on the two of you.

You head inside and note the cafe isn’t big, it’s small and cozy. You spot Jake easily, he’s sitting near the back by a window facing you. He offers you a hesitant smile and wave of his hand. You exhale and slowly walk towards his booth and slide into the seat across from him. He meekly slides a drink across the table.

“I know you always liked lattes so I ordered one for you, I hope you don’t mind.”

You look down at the drink he had slid over to your side. It sits prettily in a white china cup, a leaf pattern in delicate milky foam among the pale brown. You wrap your fingers around it, enjoying the heat that spreads through your hands, grateful for the little warmth it provides. You take a hesitant sip, it’s bitter, but you recall telling Jake that only babies ask for hot chocolate.

Truth is, you had stopped drinking lattes once your friendship with him ended, the drink brought back too many unwanted memories. Memories of walking to the nearest cafe in Brisbane during finals season to get your coffee fix to stay up and finish studying were too apparent and hurt too much.

You take a bigger sip and this time let the warm liquid sit on your tongue for longer. You can't smell the bitterness of coffee beans in the warm air of the cafe and you feel safe and calm for just a moment. You allow yourself to get enveloped in the smell of baking bread and let your worries slip away for just a split second.

You place the cup back onto the table and slowly come back to reality. “Thank you.”

Jake shoots a shy smile your way and shrugs, “anything for you.”

You clear your throat and sit straighter, back on alert. You fiddle with the handle of your teacup not knowing what to say. Was this a mistake after all?

Jake, sensing your hesitance, decides to speak up first. “I’m sorry.”

“Why’d you do it?”

Jake studies your face for a good minute. He notes all the subtle changes about you, he picks up on your new hairstyle and the change in your clothes. He also picks up on the awkwardness that hangs in the air, things have never been this tense between the two of you and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“I was scared that I wouldn’t be enough.” Jake looks away for a brief moment to collect his emotions and make his apology sound as sincere as it can be. “Ever since we were nine you’ve loved me and I was scared that I would mess things up, that once we made things official you would expect more from me, more that I didn’t know how to give and that ultimately I would be the cause of your unhappiness and all I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy, ____.”

“I had enough love for the both of us,” you softly confess, your heart breaking at the revelation of how he truly felt at the time. “Why didn’t you just say that? Why didn’t you let me love you?”

Jake gulps, tears stinging his eyes. “Because it didn’t seem like a fair trade. You don’t deserve someone broken. I thought love came with conditions and I didn’t want to drain you.”

You frown, growing annoyed with how he declares how you feel. It irks you how his brain works, how he assumed how you would react, how you would feel rather than giving you the opportunity to brave through the motions together.

“You don’t get to just make decisions on my half.”

Jake stiffly nods. “I know, I’m sorry.”

Your hands ball up into fists, anger beginning to consume your body. “I’m sorry isn’t enough! I was in love with you Jake! I was willing to go to the ends of the earth just to see you smile! Why didn’t you just talk to me? I would have loved you enough until you could love yourself! We could have made it work!”

Jake shakes his head, “no we couldn’t have.”

You glare at him, “why the fuck not!?”

This time Jake stays silent. Your eyes challenge him though, begging him to continue. To give you one good reason as to why he walked away but he gives you nothing, once again making you look like a fool for throwing caution to the wind and picking him.

Angry tears pool in your eyes as you forcefully stand from your seat and stare down at Jake. He looks up at you in surprise and shame. “Don’t you fucking get it? Even after all this time, I’m still in love with you!” You scoff as you see his eyes widening at your confession. “And yet you still can’t be honest with me, I feel so stupid. You make me stupid Sim Jaeyun.”

You don’t wait for him to respond before you’re bolting out of the coffee shop and out into the rain. It’s coming down harder now than it was when you left. You let out a string of curses at how soaked you’re getting and at how embarrassed you feel for confessing your love to Jake.

“____! ____, wait!”

You hear him calling out to you but you don’t stop, if anything it spurs you on to walk faster. The streets of Newbury are astonishingly empty due to the rain making it seemingly easy for a clean escape. What you fail to take into account though is Jake’s ability to sprint due to years of soccer.

He grabs onto your arm and spins you around to face him, determination written all over his face.

“I don’t deserve love, ____ I don’t!” Jake can feel his head spin with hurt, pain and daunting thoughts that have always plagued his self-deprecating mind. “That’s why I walked away. I can’t be loved, not by you, not my dad, not by anyone. I’m not worthy of it… I’m not a lovable person.” 

“Oh my Gosh..” You place a hand over your mouth, emotions reaching a crescendo as you raise your voice. “Yes you are, Jake. Why do you think I’m standing here and telling you I love you? Why do you think I ever did any of the things I’ve done for you? Couldn’t you see it in the way I looked at you? In the way I touched you, the way I trusted you? You’re worth every fucking last bit of love I have.” 

“You are the greatest love I have ever known, ____. It felt selfish to keep you all to myself knowing you could have had more! Knowing I was holding you back-”

You shake your head cutting him off, “I only ever wanted you. You were always more than enough Jake and I wish you had just told me! I would have reassured you each and every time! That’s what you do when you love someone!”

Jake suddenly closes the gap between you, gripping your face intimately as he looks into your frantic eyes. “I didn’t know how to talk through my emotions, ____. I thought it was better to deal with it alone and that caused me the best thing I’ve ever had. I’m still in love with you. My feelings are so strong I don’t know what to do with myself. I can’t think straight, I don’t think straight when it comes to you.” Your eyes stare back at his desperate ones, Jake trying so desperately hard to get you to understand. “I want to try again. I want to do it right this time and never let you go.”

Your lips quiver, taken aback by his warm touch and confession. Unable to resist the urge any longer, Jake slowly leans forward, one hand firmly grasping your waist, the other resting at the base of your neck, and presses your lips together. Lightning cracks overhead as the rain continues to pour down on the two of you, soaking through your clothes. But none of it matters. A warmth radiates through you as you continue kissing Jake as the world seems to melt around you. After a few moments, you slowly pull away, taking a small gasp of air. A sheepish smile creeps onto Jake’s face as you sigh against his lips, breaking eye contact for a moment before Jake plants another, shorter kiss on your lips.

“I love you, ____. I’m sorry for not trying hard enough before but please, give me another chance to love you the right way. The way you deserve. I’m not scared anymore.”

You sniffle and nod your head, “”Okay. Let’s try again. No hiding this time. I want all parts of you Jaeyun, even the parts that scare you.”

He smiles and pecks your lip one last time. “You have all of me.”

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ WHY AM I IN LOVE ALONE? (WHY AM I HURTING ALONE?) ❞

Gojo Satoru x male!reader | angst with comfort | unrequited love, ex-cheater!Gojo, arranged marriage | wc: 8.5 k | not proofread

warnings: character death (Geto Suguru), mentions of infidelity, r! has self-esteem issues, r! has some dark thoughts about su!c!de, mentions of parent death, abuse from parents (r! is from an influential sorcerer clan, his family kinda sucks), talks of virginity

masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's

authors note: there are some time skips here and there, hopefully, it isn’t too confusing! I really appreciate all the comments on the first part of this and I hope this satisfies you guys!

The flame of the candle casts the room in an evershifting blue. Pulsing and moving, pushing and pulling as the shadows undulated. It resembles the way sunlight dances on the waves of the ocean, piercing through the waters to reach as far down as it could.

It reminded you of —

Of summer.

The candle flickers, sparks of orange briefly flying, just as your father walks through the door of cement. It takes five men to push but they do so without complaint. Your eyes squint to protect themselves from the fluorescent lighting of the hallway and the flame burns upwards in the offence.

The men hastily pull the door closed. Your ears itch from the grinding noise of stone and your skin warms from the candle but you say nothing.

Your father kneels across from you. Unbothered by the still-furious flame.

The candle is the only barrier between you. It sits on top of cylindrical stone; the melted wax nearly covers the top, some dripping down the sides but you’ve never seen this candle shrinking or the flame dimming.

The room you’re in is one of great importance to your family. It was taller than it was wide. Dark as sin without this cursed flame. The (L/N) family nearly fell into ruins some century ago, a member of your clan decided to turn this room into a place where no secrets would be safe, so you’d have no enemies.

After he had done this, your clan flourished.

It served its purpose. No lies could be told in this room.

“Is Gojo Satoru in love with you?”

The flame calms from its fury. As if listening.

“Yes.”

Sparks of orange fly, shooting from the wick and pathetically fizzing out. His eyes darken, swallowing that gorgeous blue like a black hole.

“So your mother speaks truthfully.”

He had hoped it was just mindless gossip — misplaced anger from his own infidelity. Your father was never one to admit your mother was right.

“Geto Suguru.”

His name makes you turn your eyes down to your lap. Your father’s frown deepens. Further settling into permanent lines of displeasure on his ageing face.

“My son, born of the (L/N) clan, promised to marry Gojo Satoru. A six-eye user, soon-to-be head of the Gojo clan. My son who had centuries of ancestors fought to put him in this position of power with a strong family name, riches and opportunities beyond belief.”

“Bested by a boy whose parents aren’t even curse users.”

That haunting blue burns steadily.

“This is your duty, as son of the (L/N) clan.”

“Father, how could I compete with Geto Suguru — “

Your father reaches through the flames and grabs your face. The skin of his arm reddens as the flame roars at the disrespect. It licks at your eyebrow, your eyes, your cheeks. It burns. Though not like a regular flame would. It doesn't eat away at your flesh and render the fat past that — the flame hisses, digs under your flesh, and sets your nerves ablaze.

The pain is white hot and you swear you burst a vein in an attempt to grit your teeth together. It's like you're burning from the inside out, your skull heating up and glowing from where your skin is stretched thinnest.

You've been through this time and time again but the pain never dulls. It pries your lips open and a strangled wail is ripped from your throat.

Your face is held so tightly your cheekbones feel as though one more gram of pressure would shatter it. His face splits through the fire as he scowls down at you.

“I will not let the decision of a 15-year-old boy destroy what I’ve tried so hard to build. This is bigger than you ever will be. Your marriage to Gojo Satoru will make our clan more powerful than ever.”

You weep as you nod your head while nails dig into the flesh of your thighs. He lets you go, pushing your face away from his hand as if he was tossing trash away. You back away, hands shakily hovering above where your skin feels as though it's sizzling. Like you always do, you lean on the wall and the cool wall is like heaven.

The flame calms just as your heart does, at times it is as though it pulses with the beating in your chest.

In those minutes, your father stays stoic.

“Love is worthless in matters of power. The things I ask you to do will strengthen our clan, and strengthen our abilities. Put your selfishness aside, boy. This is a debt you owe to your flesh and blood.”

“...Yes, father.”

“Why do people stay with someone like that?” Megumi scoffs from behind the couch. He’s dressed in his pajamas, hair still damp from the shower he took. Meanwhile, you were sitting watching the television, dressed for bed yourself.

“I think it's sweet,” you say. The series was truly ridiculous and overly dramatized. Some cheesy and soapy drama that plays at night when lonely adults need someone else’s problems to obsess over.

“He stays with her even with all her flaws.” Megumi’s face says more than he ever could. You laugh, beckoning him over to settle next to you.

This is the usual. Gojo is always busy with missions here and there. Sometimes even needing to get onto a plane - he could be gone for days at a time. Leaving you, Tsumiki and Megumi.

Well, just you and Megumi now.

He doesn’t react as you squeeze him a little closer, just tucking his legs comfortably to lean on you.

“Okay, but that doesn’t negate the fact that she’s hurt him. I mean, it’s honorable but — isn’t he tired? I mean, she slept with his dad. Twice!”

You chuckle, grabbing the towel he had slung over his shoulders to help him dry his hair.

“You were paying attention! I thought you hated this show,” Megumi rolls his eyes. “How can I not pay attention? It’s so stupid I can’t look away.”

“Please. Just admit you like watching shitty tv shows,” you tease.

“I really don’t,” he denies. Megumi shrinks a bit despite his words and you chuckle. The dialogue from the TV continues and Megumi relishes the ambience.

The way you gently dry his hair. The dumb characters talk about who slept with whom and what impossible surgeries they wanna do. The lingering scent of the takeout dinner you indulged in with him today. Your shampoo and body soap and the smell of the detergent you use help him sleep easier at night.

“Is it the same for you?”

He feels your fingers pause. Not frightfully, more confused. He continues as your movement does.

“You’re like this doctor. You stay even if he hurts you.”

“What are you talking about? Gojo’s never hurt me,” your tone was perplexed.

“I’m not blind," Megumi mumbles. You pull your hands away from Megumi, his towel now on your lap as you wait for him to turn around. He does.

Then a commercial plays, something about a new aquarium that’s just opened; it casts the living room in blue and your heart gets caught in your throat.

‘ It’s not the same, ‘ you tell yourself, ‘ I’m not my father. ‘

“Whatever gave you that impression?”

“You rarely call him by his name. You stay up when he’s here but turn in early when he’s not. You go to clan meetings alone but he brings you around everywhere when he’s here. Dates, gifts, compliments.”

Megumi shrinks under your gaze but meets your eyes unwaveringly.

“Every time you look like you’re about to smile at his jokes you just...pause and remind yourself about something...is it Geto?”

Megumi inhales sharply at the expression on your face. The commercial had come and gone and the next that plays is a stream of constant colour; chaotic and disarrayed. The red-orange and yellow make you look like a curse.

But then your eyes soften and his grip on his knees loosens.

“I — I saw a picture.“

There are pictures of Geto in the house. Gojo said he would be fine without it but you found it ridiculous how much hurt he thinks he’s saving you from. You were already brought to your knees and metaphorically beaten down by the man you love and the man he loved; your best friends.

A picture of the four of you in high school wasn’t going to make you less or more pained.

Megumi’s asked about Geto before. But not like this; not like he knows something he shouldn’t. Geto wasn’t a forbidden topic.

But.

Your children deserved better than that. They should believe that love is important and that their fathers are there for them through whatever it is. That Satoru and (Y/N) were not going to just disappear and leave them to fend for themselves.

“On his flipphone.”

Of course.

Of course he kept that useless piece of crap.

Of fucking course.

“The wallpaper was of them. They seemed closer than friends. Did Gojo hurt you because of Geto?”

“Despite his flaws, he’s still my husband, Megumi.”

That doesn’t satisfy your son. His brows twitch and he gets that defiant look in his eyes that makes your stomach twist into knots. The ghost of that man, Megumi’s biological father, always sweeps through your brain every time he gets so stubborn.

You don’t hate Megumi because of it. Gods know how much you wish you weren’t a (L/N) — you wouldn’t have chosen your parents. Your mother, absolutely. Your father could go rot in hell with his new wife.

“But you’re unhappy.”

“I’m not — ”

The trailer of a movie plays; it casts the room in orange for a brief few seconds.

“You are. You’re lying. I’m not a little kid anymore, I’d be fine if you...if you divorced Gojo, I don’t mind if you move out. If you’d let me, I’d stay over. A kid from my school has divorced parents, he seems fine. He said it made his parents happier.”

“Megumi — “

“I can take it. You don’t have to stay together for Tsumiki and me anymore. You’ve raised us well.”

Not well enough if he’s pleading for you to leave Gojo.

“You’re just a boy. You don’t know what you’re saying. I think the TV show is really starting to get to you,” you jest. Megumi’s never been one for jokes though. Especially not ones as dumb as yours. Your awkward grin falls and you sigh.

“It wasn’t because of Geto. Suguru and Satoru...”

Megumi’s ears prick. He could count on his hands the number of times you’ve uttered Gojo’s name. Each time, it’s said with such bitter longing. The rotten essence of first love and cruel summers dripped from every syllable. This time, however, there’s a softness to it, an emotion Megumi would later know as yearning.

“They were the strongest and they were inseparable. With Suguru, Satoru could just be. With Satoru, Suguru felt worthy.”

“I was,” you sucked in a breath. “I was...there. Yes, it hurt me but I love Satoru, Megumi.”

How could you not?

Those heavenly eyes and boyish grin. His lips seem painted by the angels and his hair spun from those impossible-to-reach clouds and the purest of light. Satoru was beyond beautiful.

He was funny, brash, and annoyingly persistent. His very existence was irritating to some; he was good at everything. His hands were like Midas, everything he touched turned into gold.

Nonetheless, he was human. You would know better than most. When Suguru left Satoru looked like a facade of a young god. That’s what Suguru did to him that you never could. Suguru made him human.

So you didn’t blame Satoru for falling in love. You couldn’t even blame Suguru for falling in love.

You were an obligation chosen out of his own comfort. (Y/N), his precious friend whom he’d marry once the two of you were 17 years old.

You were duty and honor. You were a reminder of his godhood. He was untouchable and ethereal; even so, he wanted nothing more than to fall into the arms of the one person who could make him unravel his soul. He held Suguru more preciously as you aged until he couldn’t anymore.

“I love him.”

“But you’re sad. He makes you...sad.”

It pained you to see Megumi try to understand. He was your son. This talk of a loveless marriage and divorce, him saying he would be fine with the aftermath as if he would have to carry responsibility for it.

He was just a boy. He was your boy and he’s trying to protect you when it should be the other way around.

So you shake your head and reach forward to cup his cheek in your palm.

“I still love him, Megumi. Sometimes, that’s enough.”

Megumi wants to tell you it isn’t.

If love was enough, his mother would be alive and his shitty father would have stayed to be a father to Tsumiki and him.

If love was enough, Tsumiki wouldn’t be in a coma.

But he says nothing and just shrugs. He murmurs a half-assed agreement and then stands from the couch. He goes to bed that night, wishing nothing more than to see the world from your eyes. You were his father. More than his own was.

Gojo was a busy guy so he warmed up to you first. Despite how tough it was for you to navigate being a teenager yourself as you raised him and his sister.

He just wanted to make you happy. Because clearly, you were incapable of doing it.

Megumi found it hard to sleep that night.

“Awh, asleep already?” Gojo frowned as he peeked into Megumi’s room. He was supposed to arrive the next morning but he missed his family. So he took an earlier flight.

A creak made him look your way and his eyes widened.

“Don’t bother him, Gojo.”

“(Y/N)…” his footsteps sound tentative as he walks towards you.

“Don’t look at me like that, I was just watching a sad movie is all. Megumi stayed up late, so don’t wake him. He’s got school tomorrow.”

Gojo doesn’t believe you. The way he’s gazing at you is as if you were the most pathetic curse to have ever graced the earth. Had he ever looked at Suguru that way before his betrayal?

Gods, even the thought of him has your brain pulsing. Those lost summers and cozy winters were yours too but of course, for Satoru, it must’ve been different.

To you, they were everything because your friends were there. More importantly, Gojo was there.

To him, his Suguru, they were all they needed.

You wipe away some of the tears, sniffling and turning away from Gojo. “You came home early. I didn’t cook dinner tonight, but I can heat-up some leftovers,” Gojo follows you to the dining area. He wants to ask if you are okay, even if he already knows the answer.

‘ Is it Suguru? ‘

It’s on the tip of his tongue. It’s been 9 years since his betrayal, your mother's funeral, your father's wedding. Between Tsumiki and Megumi, and the missions there was never a chance to have that conversation.

But what if it wasn’t? You were more than that. You existed beyond the shadow that Suguru cast — in Gojo’s eyes anyway.

The microwave dings and it casts the kitchen in a warm yellow glow. “How was the mission?” He watches you make a plate, standing near the kitchen island with his arms by his side. “It went great. The uh, the plane ride there was sorta bumpy though.”

“Yeah? You got scared or sumthin’?” He takes his bandages off, eyes twinkling with something you can’t quite place.

‘ He’s making jokes, talking casually, ‘ Satoru thinks. His palms feel a bit clammy. “Hah, as if. Even if the plane was fallin’ I’d definitely get out of there,” he boasts with that careless smile.

You offer a chuckle, turning just as your smile fades into a polite purse of your lips. The plate is placed in front of him and he’s not hungry but he sits anyway.

Huh.

So this is what having an intimate dinner is supposed to feel like? It creeps in that you’ve never been on a date outside of this marriage. He had never wooed you before Geto. It was all casual and friendly. Even if it was just the two of you, your guardians would keep watch to ensure that nothing got too passionate.

Where were they when Gojo snuck into Geto’s room? Night after night, week after week...

He had never touched you like that. Every time he tried, you found yourself pushing him away. Not out of bashfulness or lack of attraction. You just can’t help but wonder if he’ll replace you with Geto in his mind and your heart breaks every time.

9 years of marriage and still, your bed was cold as ice.

At times you would feel panic, wondering if Gojo is with another body to fill that void that you can’t fill but then it ebbs away.

Because they weren’t Geto either. So they were just as meaningless as you.

You grimace.

To think you’d blush and swoon at the idea of your marriage. Enamoured at the fact Gojo chose you. Now here you are. A resentful friend, a horrid husband, and a failing father.

If it weren’t for Tsumiki and Megumi you would’ve been hanging from the ceiling or perhaps you’d “let your guard down” during a mission. Maybe even in front of your husband. Your train of thought is cut short as your mother’s face appears. Stiffening your lip, you turn your gaze to the table to collect yourself.

Gojo watches you shifting around and reaches a foot forward to bump into yours. He smiles at the way you get wide-eyed, frozen for a second.

“How was your day, my beloved?”

“I went to Jujutsu High to oversee Megumi’s transfer,” his brows lift.

“Already?”

“Just to make things easier, Gojo. So it isn’t so last minute. He practised summoning his Divine Dogs today too.”

You’re wringing your hands together, folding and unfolding your fingers all while glancing at the table. It reminds him of the day he found out you had feelings for him.

You were sat across from him just like you are now. The both of you were 15 and hungry, so you offered to pay for lunch. Suguru and Shoko had gone off to grab condiments and he saw it; that look of adoration in your eyes.

You were handsome and kind. A true friend to him, Suguru and Shoko. Then an idea popped into his head, an idea he’d never proceeded with if he had known the repercussions.

If he wed you, he’d still be able to be close to Suguru.

He was selfish. Suguru told him that it was cruel, you were their friend and this would hurt you.

“Satoru that’s cool-blooded. He’s had a crush on you for a year now, you shouldn’t,” Suguru murmurs.

“It’s just a crush, he’ll probably divorce me or something. Then, I’ll marry you, Suguru.” He interlaced his fingers with Suguru. Naked shoulder pressed to naked shoulder. His 16th had just passed, he’d have to marry you after his 17th birthday but it’s alright. He told himself you would get the message and he’d have Suguru. Duties fulfilled and promises honored.

“What?” Suguru’s eyes were so wide it was almost hilarious. Satoru turned on his side, outlining the traces his lips left on Suguru’s skin.

“Will you marry me, Suguru?”

Satoru’s guilt wraps around his heart with its sorrowful roots. He wonders if you think you’re ugly, or unworthy. His fondness for you wants nothing more than to hold you. You were his friend after all, before all of this; the missions the four of you would go on together were the highlights of his life.

He didn’t mean to hurt you.

The food tastes like ash in his mouth but he swallows it down.

“We should go out tomorrow.”

You blink at him, contemplating. He can see the tearstains on your skin, the wetness on your philtrum that you’ve tried to wipe away and the way your lashes are clumped together.

“Anywhere you wanna go, after we drop ‘Gumi off we’ll be off to the races. We could go shopping or —”

“I want to go on a mission with you.”

That catches him completely off guard. You offer a grin, and the slightest flash of teeth has Satoru nodding before you even get to say another word.

He owes you this. You deserve happiness.

“Of course, anything you want.”

Gojo should’ve stopped there. Said nothing else.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

All at once, he sees your eyes turn hollow and your smile tightens.

You don’t believe him.

“...Thank you, Gojo.”

Ever since, that’s the only way you responded to his “I love you’s”.

Thanking him for trying to convince you and himself that it was true.

Megumi’s never seen your father before. He looks so out of place at home. His hulking form and intimidating face were so rough like unpolished stone. He should be elsewhere, not eavesdropping like he is now but he can’t help himself.

Gojo had to tend to business and you couldn’t turn away your father. You knew what he was here to talk about anyway and after last night's screaming match with your husband, you were as tightly wound as a coiled snake.

“How is your wife, father?”

“She is healthy.”

A vein bulges from the side of your head, rage pumping through it as your jaw clenches. His gaze scrutinizes you in such an obvious way it makes you want nothing more than to exorcise him.

“Gojo Satoru killed Geto Suguru. Is this true?”

How could it not be true? You thought bitterly. My guilt, Gojo’s crying, my outburst — all proof of his death.

He scoffs, a pleased quirk on the corner of his lips.

“I suppose you’ve done well then, my son. You didn’t even have to do any bloody work.”

“You know nothing, father. Geto Suguru’s death was a tragedy, don’t you dare turn it into a victory,” you seethe.

“He was a troublemaker. A waste of breath — a weakling. He deserved all that he got, don’t tell me you’re sympathizing with a murderer?”

“He was my friend!” Megumi flinched as you yelled.

“If you hadn’t pushed me and Satoru to marry, all this pain would have been avoided. We would still be friends, I could grieve for him without bitterness in my heart!”

You have no more tears to give. Instead, your anger burned like an inferno, burning you from the inside as you glared at your father.

“You’ve ruined me just like you ruined my mother. Where is duty? Honour? All of that is just trampled by your greed! You are dishonorable! Disgusting! Selfish!”

“You dare speak to me that way?” He lifts his hand and Megumi's palms hover close to stop him. The doors slide open. Satoru stands there. Even with his blindfold on, his gaze is heavy.

He calls your father's name. He doesn’t hide his disrespect. No titles were shared. No acknowledgment of his relation to you. He was beyond mad.

“It’s best if you leave, old man.”

Your father lowers his hand and you realize your nails are digging into your palm as blood seeps through your fingers.

“This younger generation truly knows no respect. Does it pain both of you to be together? Is my son so ugly, Satoru?” He laughs derisively. “Put a pillow over his face as you take him then! Gods knows I did the same with his mother.”

You open your mouth and yell, an ugly yell that's so full of anguish and anger; no words or vulgarity. A scream that makes Gojo’s throat hurt hearing it. Your father looks at you in disgust, shaking his head as he turns his back to you.

“Pathetic.”

You lunge at him and Gojo stops you, gathering you into his arms as you try to reach for your father.

“I’ll kill you!”

“Beloved, that’s enough —”

“You monster! I’ll burn you alive!”

“(Y/N)! He’s gone! That’s enough!”

Gojo doesn’t know why but he lets his infinity down. He lets you dig your fingers in his shoulder, and scratch the back of his hands as he tries to gather your wrist and grunts as your head bumps into his.

“I’ll kill him! Let me kill him!”

He grabs your wrists and pushes them against your chest. You’re pinned to the wall and the more you struggle the more he presses on your chest. It forces you to take deep breaths, and for your brain to catch up with your body.

“He should be the one that’s dead! Not my mother! Not Suguru! Him! Why isn’t he fucking dead!?”

Satoru can’t help but think of those final moments with Suguru.

How ragged his breathing was as he leaned against the wall.

“At least curse me a little at the very end.”

Suguru’s smile makes Satoru feel like a teenager again. He reaches forward and Suguru noses into his palm. Satoru’s breath comes out in a shudder. There he is, the man he loves more than anything, dying.

Suguru hums as Satoru leans over to hug him. Using the bit of strength he has left his head slots where it belong; in the junction of Satoru’s neck and shoulder. He remembers how ticklish he was there and manages a chuckle as Satoru flinches as his hair did just that.

He has so many things to say.

But he feels that wedding band and he’s glad that Satoru won’t be alone.

“You went on a date with (Y/N) at the crepe restaurant, I could sense your curse energy.” His daughters had wanted to go there after and Suguru remembered how bittersweet it was to sit where the two of you had sat. He had imagined himself as you and he’s struck with the want to see you and Ieiri and —

“I should have married you.”

Suguru’s eyes water. “Satoru —”

“All I do is hurt him. You were right, Suguru. I was cruel. If I married you, we would all be happy. Your daughters and my children, they’d be siblings. (Y/N) would have found someone who would never be as cruel as I am. We would still be friends. I should’ve married you. I should’ve married you.”

Suguru was selfish too. He resented you for having Gojo. It pained him to think about how lucky you were — he wished you misfortune.

What kind of friend does that?

You’d met his parents. Spent birthdays together, and went through lessons and missions together. How could he resent you and love Satoru and Shoko so dearly?

“I chose my path, Satoru. But in another life...in another life, we’re all happy.”

Satoru feels Suguru’s lips press to his jaw.

“You can make it right, Satoru. You love him, you’ll know what to do. Just don’t be so crass, yeah?”

Your yelling doesn’t cease. He’s half a mind to yell along with you because there’s truth in your words.

Why is it that everyone that mattered wasn’t here? Because they’d hold you and tell you were alright. Your mother would’ve done everything she could to ease your pain. Suguru would be here to do the same for both of you. What would they say if they were here?

What could they do to help you?

Help him?

Satoru lets you push him away. Megumi wonders if he should walk in now. He’d never seen you like this. He takes one step forward and Satoru speaks.

“I want a divorce.”

A pin could drop and Megumi was sure it would sound like an explosion. Your chest heaving slows as Satoru watches you straighten your posture.

“Do you live to embarrass me, Satoru?” You can feel his infinity go back up.

“Or is it me that embarrassed you? Should I allow my father to mock Suguru’s death? What am I meant to have done? What could I do to satisfy you, husband?”

“This marriage is hurting us.”

Your bark of laughter makes Satoru’s heart clench.

“A marriage YOU could’ve prevented. Did you forget that? You’ve had all the time to stop it. In those 3 years, you fucked Suguru and confessed your love to him. What exactly did you intend for my life?” You cross your arms, trying so hard to keep everything contained but your mouth can’t stop itself.

“Because I could have been fine. Maybe my father would have cast me aside but at least I would have moved on. Instead, you wormed yourself into my heart and infected me from the inside out.”

“Your mother just passed. I didn’t want to cause you more pain by canceling our wedding —”

Your palm doesn’t strike him but that isn’t with lack of trying. He can see the way your hands shake as you attempt to nullify his infinity. The trails of blood that drip down from your nails piercing through your palm from earlier. Your eyes were as dark as night as you stared at him with a blank expression.

“You are dishonorable, Gojo Satoru. You are selfish, and you deserve nothing you have. Not me, not Megumi, not Tsumiki, not Ieiri and you sure as hell didn’t deserve Suguru.”

He snaps at you. Slapping your hand away as he points a finger in your face.

“You don’t get to scream at me when I tried to make this marriage work! For 10 years all I’ve ever done was love you!”

“All you’ve ever done is bury Suguru by using me, Satoru!”

“Oh, that’s bullshit!” Megumi is frozen in place. He had never seen you fight before. Had never ever seen Gojo yell or lose his cool. He feels his heart hammering against his chest and clasps his hands together.

“Every time I touch you, you pull away! Every time I kiss you, you flinch — Fuck! Do I repulse you?”

“You don’t get to be pissed about not being able to fuck me, Satoru.”

He takes off his blindfold and those cerulean eyes shine with fury.

“Of course I fucking do! You want to be the martyr so fucking badly and you did it, (Y/N)! You’re the martyr!”

You don’t let him poke his finger into your chest but despite your smacks, he touches you anyway. He grasps your wrist and his grip is so tight you can tell it’ll bruise.

That horrifying blue sears your skin.

“I may be selfish but you’re fucking vindictive, (Y/N). You tell yourself that you’re nothing and somehow it comes true. Living, stewing, in a dead man’s shadow just so you can feel good about not returning my efforts!”

Just a few nights ago he was sweet. Telling you that he loves you and he wanted you. You never believed him and here was your proof, the labor of your hurt and pain stands before you with righteous ire.

“So I’m done! I’m done.” You shake your head. He scoffs, letting you go as if he was tossing trash away.

“(Y/N) — ”

“We’ll divorce next year. Next year on this day, I’ll allow you to divorce me. But not now. Not today. Call me a vindictive, vengeful, stubborn asshole. But what I’ll not allow you to do is humiliate me all over again.”

Satoru wants to say something, but the whine of an animal stops him.

When you find Megumi clutching the neck of his Divine Dog your anger disappears in an instant. He isn’t crying though it’s obvious he’s simply holding it back. The dog's part as you reach to cup his face, whispering his name as he attempts to steel his expression.

“...I’m so sorry, Megumi. I’m so sorry you had to hear that.”

“It’s whatever,” he shrugs. Satoru sighs, combing his fingers through his hair as he crouches next to you.

“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t have to listen to that," Satoru sighs. “I’m old enough — “

You stop him by pulling him into a hug. He’s stunned, his face would have been comical in any other situation so Satoru smiles.

“You’re just a boy. Don’t act so tough so soon,” Satoru reminds him.

The few things Satoru and you could relate to was how your children would never have to face the theft of their youth as long as you were alive. You squeeze him tighter and he returns it, burying his face into your shoulder.

Despite being pissed at Satoru, he says nothing as he feels him stroke his head.

The dogs whine again and nuzzle Satoru and you, licking Megumi’s ears and cheek to dissipate this acrid scent of fear and anxiety.

“Can I stay over with you sometimes?” You know what he actually wants to ask you.

‘ When you leave am I still allowed to need you? ‘

His shoulders sag in relief as you nod.

“You don’t even have to ask, Megumi. You know I love you, right? I’ll always love you, my beautiful son.”

“Couldn’t have gotten a place with better Wi-Fi?”

Shoko glares minutely as you pluck her cigarette out of her mouth. You put it in yours and she gags at the indirect kiss which makes you roll your eyes.

“Just because you’re single doesn’t mean I’m interested, (Y/N),” you scoff and shove her shoulder. She stiffens on purpose but sways a bit. It makes you laugh.

The house you bought was a cute duplex penthouse. Something small for yourself and for Megumi when he slept over. Shoko was the only person to have seen it so far — other than Megumi of course.

Your divorce was months away but it was far too awkward to sleep on the same bed as Satoru after that fight. This was for the best; baby steps until you’re officially separated.

“Hm, even if I was interested in women you’re not exactly my type.” She lights up another cigarette and leans on the railings of your balcony. Man, hate Satoru all you want but he sure was generous with his money. The view was stunning. It must have cost a fortune.

“So. You’re single now.”

You cringe and shrink down, limply holding the cigarette as you brace your chin on your arm.

“For the first time in 13 years...”

“27 is a perfectly good age to fuck around. Not too old to scare anyone of a respectable age off but not too young to make people feel like a creep.”

“You’ve such a way with words, Shoko,” you mutter dryly.

“I’m just saying, sex is a great way to get your mind off of things.”

“Says who?” She laughs, turning to you with a cocked brow.

“Satoru may be the golden child of the sorcerer world but he’s not a sex god. His dick isn’t that good, alright? There’s someone out there that’ll make you feel like a virgin again,” her laughter dies out as she takes note of your bashful eyes.

“...No.”

“What?”

Shoko's brows furrow. It’s the most expressive she’s ever been.

“10 years and not once?”

You hide your face further into your arms.

“(Y/N)!”

“Okay! We never had sex, alright? I — I don’t know if he ever went to get his dick wet from somewhere or someone else. But me and him never fucked. I’m an adult virgin! Sue me!”

“Not even a handjob?”

You groan, smushing the cigarette into the ashtray before going back inside. She follows, belatedly smushing her cigarette when you remind her with a look.

“Ok — Okay, but do you want to be a virgin? It’s perfectly reasonable if you do. I’ll respect your choices. But, why didn’t you...?”

“Shoko, every time he touched me...I felt like the ugliest person on this goddamn planet. We tried,” you sighed. “He tried a few times. Never pushy, never forcing but no matter what fucking angle he approached it from. I just couldn’t.”

Shoko slides her arm over your shoulder and you pliantly turn to return the hug. Her shirt, unsurprisingly, reeks of cigarettes but it brings a semblance of comfort. For a moment you’re washed over with nostalgia though for once, it comes with no pain.

“Well, you’re good-looking and you should definitely take half of Satoru’s money in the divorce. You’re good with kids too, a definite catch,” she presses a kiss on your forehead and you accept it with a loose grin.

“You deserve someone and if you don’t want anyone that’s fine too. Just promise to invite me out sometimes,” her eyebags suddenly seemed darker and so you give her another hug.

“I love you, Shoko.”

“I know. Unfortunately, I do too.”

“You love me,” you tease as your fingers wiggle and she pushes your face away ruthlessly.

“Heavy emphasis on the unfortunately — tickle me and I won’t heal you.”

She lets you escape her grasps, flabbergasted at her statement.

Satoru twists the ring, the light that it catches shimmering bashfully at his attentiveness. His husband had moved out, Megumi decided to sleep over after a whole day of helping him settle in and Satoru didn’t know how to feel about it. His hand feels naked and uncomfortable. The air that breezes lightly on the bare skin make gooseflesh ripple. The ring is enclosed by his fingers and he props his face on the fist, peering at the papers of this mission and that. The writing all look like giberrish, floating aimlessly in his brain as he thinks of (Y/N).

Had he truly never felt Satoru’s affections? It might have not been the love he deserved but to call it nothing was egregious. Or was he being selfish again?

Satoru pinches his nose bridge. His throat longs for the burn of alcohol which surprises him. He wasn’t much of a drinker — he wasn’t a happy drunk.

The ring grew warm in his hold and Satoru squeezed it. It always had the funniest way of doing that. It was as if it was alive, like a cursed object made to punish Satoru. Whenever his eyes wander or his mind reminisces of passionate nights, it burns and he resents himself for it. 10 years of involuntary celibacy was not something he thought of when he was younger. He liked sex. He doesn’t know if it was because it was good or because it was with Suguru. Regardless, Satoru enjoyed it.

He thought that if you got over that hurdle in your relationship, the two of you could fall into sync. He knows he cares about you and he knows you love him.

The house was so quiet. Satoru wants nothing more than to hear your soft breathing, Megumi’s sleepy mumbles and Tsumiki’s shifting around in bed.

He was supposed to be the strongest so why couldn’t he keep his family together?

Suguru told him that in another life they were all happy. But Satoru can’t help but ask himself why not in this life?

His hand unfurls and he slips the ring back in place.

(Y/N) Gojo is a Grade 1 sorcerer with extraordinary skill and wit in battle. His face was crafted by angels with feather-light touches, ones that thumbed the furrows of his brow with a sense of melancholy and kissed his eyelids with love; Satoru did not deserve you. He didn’t deserve to wake up with you by his side, caught by how beautiful you were when your guard was down.

Satoru suddenly wonders what made him unable to fall. It wasn’t your personality, nor your voice. You were funny, intelligent, headstrong, resilient, and everything most men fantasized about. Was it him? Even with all his attempts, his sweet gestures and words, did you see through it?

Did you see him?

What was it that you saw?

A tall child craving for his favorite person to come back?

…Was it a pathetic sight, (Y/N)?

Did you heart bleed for him?

Satoru stands, slipping the mission papers back into their files.

His guilt is a willow tree you had planted within him, tended by his own hands and watered with your tears. It’s beautiful and lonely, surrounded by flowers that climb and choke its branches as it hopes for someone to understand it.

You had. You understood the isolation he felt being on top and you supported him and got stronger to reach him. You saw right through him and he remained blind to you.

Shoko's name flashed across the screen of his phone. Satoru picks it up mindlessly, sitting on the end of your — his bed.

“You better give him half of your belongings in the divorce,” she says. He hears the burn of the cigarette as she inhales.

“Suguru was my friend. Just as much as he was (Y/N)’s.”

Satoru’s brow twitched. “Excuse me?”

“Suguru. I was there, believe it or not, and so was (Y/N). Suguru was our friend, our brother, our Suguru. We grieve him every day. Even before he was dead, we grieved him. I don’t fault you for being a shitty husband because of your grief, (Y/N) wasn’t the best husband either.”

“Don’t pretend to understand — “

“Get out of your head and stop mourning alone. All those years. When have you ever come to see me, Satoru? I was hurting too. ”

She exhales, flicking the ashes away as Satoru covers his wet eyes.

"I fucked up, Shoko." That was an understatement of the decade. She glances at the night sky, watching the buildings breeze past.

"I fucked up."

“Itadori Yuuji?” You squint your eyes at the papers, ignoring the warmth that Satoru emits from your side. You were at a clan meeting. One that Satoru decided to join so, you had no choice but to listen to him.

“Sukuna’s vessel,” he tilts his head, scratching the back of his neck from the uncomfortable button-up you forced him into. If he wanted to annoy you, you’d gladly return the favor. It was a few sizes too tight and the tie you put around his neck choked him but, he acted as cool as a cucumber.

“The boy Megumi found?” He nods and you read his papers with more fervor.

“You fought Sukuna?” He smiles cheerfully, grinning from ear to ear as he spins in place.

“I won,” he cheers. It takes all your self-restraint not to throttle him. “That was reckless,” you hissed out, ignoring the servants eyeing the both of you as they set down the trays of tea and finger foods.

“I’m the strongest. I would’ve won anyways,” he peers over your shoulder to read through the report again.

“Why are you showing me this? The higher-ups already called for his execution.” He places his chin on your shoulder. Your breath hitched yet, neither of you commented on it.

“I told them I’d kill them if they executed Itadori Yuuji,” he faces you as you turn to glare at him. Your lips were centimeters apart. Satoru takes note of your racing heart.

“Are you insane?”

“He’s just a boy doing what he could to save our son. Itadori shouldn’t have to be killed for doing the right thing.”

He lets you push his head away, slipping the papers back into the document sleeve and sliding it over to him.

“He will be executed once he eats all his fingers, he is a lamb sent to slaughter.”

At times like this, you think of Suguru and wonder if he was telling some truth about the world you lived in. Kids dying in droves because of curses that would never exist if non-sorcerers didn’t exist. But really, this was no one's fault but Sukuna. The old bastard couldn’t just die instead, he prolongs his existence like a roach.

"Megumi blames himself for that,” your heart squeezes at the thought. “They get along great, such rambunctious students. You would love them, you could spend more time with ‘Gumi.”

“Satoru, I’m not going to be a teacher. I’ve no patience for it,” he looks befuddled at your words. “You’ve been my husband for 10 years, so that’s a lie.”

The reminder of your marriage earns him a stink eye that he just giggles at. The official papers were to be served in a few more months. Until then, you were still together in the public eye.

“Just...think about it, (Y/N). I know you’ve been busy with missions and these boring meetings but I also know you miss Megumi and he missed you too.”

Gods, he’s playing that card. Why does he always need to play that card? He knows you give in every time.

“How have those missions been? You’ve been traveling a lot,” he puts Itadori’s file away and gives you his full attention. “Exhausting but it is fun to sightsee and make new friends,” you reach for the cup of tea.

“...Ya popped your cherry yet?”

The tea sprays onto the table and you cough violently as you save yourself from the near-death experience. A servant gasps and rushes to clean the mess, another asking if you’re alright and if the tea was too bitter or hot.

“You’re — You are — “ he grins as you cough and pats your back. “You are so gross, Satoru!”

He cackles at your flustered expression.

The servants leave eventually and you stew as you sit across from Satoru, back turned to him to stare out at the courtyard. Your silhouette makes his smile widen. He props his chin in his palm, taking in the sight of you.

“I wouldn’t mind if you had. I was just asking, as a friend.” He’s glad your shoulders don’t stiffen. The only reply he earns is your middle finger.

“Whaaat? I just wanted to know if it was good.”

“Is this how you’re going to convince me to be a teacher? By asking vulgar questions?”

“Not my intention but if I can kill two birds with one stone then why not?” You groan as you hang your head, hoping the ground will swallow you whole. Satoru hums a tune as he awaits your answers.

“Fine! Fine. I’ll be a teacher.”

“You’ve earned one mark! For a full mark, answer the other question!”

You’re tempted to throw the whole tea set to his face but can’t help the smile that crawls on your face at his animated movements. So you turn to face him, shaking your head as you sigh.

“No, I haven’t. Does that satisfy you?” Satoru’s slack jaw makes you want to punch him.

“Nearly four months of traveling and missions and meeting other people. Not one got into your pants?” You huff and cross your arms.

“So you’ve let someone into your pants, husband?” Satoru gasps. “How dare you? I’ve been a dutiful teacher and my students will attest to this!”

He then placed his elbows on the table, looking like a schoolgirl about to gossip.

“You should tell me all about your type, I’ll be more than happy to help you,” he draws hearts in the air with his finger.

Your type? You wanted to scold him and maybe even degrade him for acting like a perverted cuckold but this question catches you off guard.

You found Satoru attractive. Then again, who didn’t? But what was your type? You place your chin between your thumb and finger. Satoru waits patiently.

“I don’t know, I mean, I know I like men but...huh...”

You scratch the back of your neck.

“I guess I never really thought about it.”

Satoru exhales, endeared by the worry on your face. He was a shitty husband but Satoru was a good friend. You had put your life on pause for his. It was only fair that he helped you. He may not be able to fully piece together your heart but he’ll do what he can until you can smile again.

Those months away helped, there’s no doubt about it, but he knows you miss home and you needed to put down new roots in soil that wasn’t infested and toxic.

He knows you’ll probably take years to forgive him. He’s willing to wait, so he can have his friend back.

“We can start simple. Which one of our friends would you sleep with?” Your shrug makes him list some names. Then the sight of your eyes widening as he says Nanami Kento makes him gasp.

“Nanami!? Our underclassmen!?”

As Satoru guffaws and goes on about how boring Nanami was your mind ponders on this tightening of your chest.

Were you too lenient with Satoru? After all he has done?

You weren't without sin or fault. You understand that much but this feels so different. Familiar, actually, there's no expectation in Satoru's affections.

It was casual and it made you feel lighter than you have in a long time.

Should you be angrier? As a boy, his friendly attitude felt like a slap across the face. Now, it just feels right. Has your heart finally stopped beating for Satoru? All it took was 10 years of a shitty marriage?

It was rare for sorcerers to live as long as you have. A sense of panic grips you. For a moment, the thought of time wasted flashes. Then, those sweet memories of Tsumiki and Megumi seep in. Memories of Shoko, Satoru, Suguru and you laughing boisterously at something stupid while eating at the school field.

Your eye creases as your cheeks lift. Satoru is still rambling about Nanami and the only thing that makes him stop is a sound from his fondest memory.

You're laughing. Clutching at your stomach and tear-pricked eyes kinda laugh. His huff of disbelief transitions into a chuckle.

Oh, you forgot how good it felt to laugh this hard. It felt so nice to have him as a friend again. So fucking nice.

"His cheekbones are something to behold, I know, but did you forget his old hairdo?"

Satoru can see the warmth seep back into your skin, your eyes are glowing again as you cover your face; those heavenly shades of (E/C) peek through your fingers. The ring glimmers, and for a moment Satoru's chest doesn't feel heavy.

"You can do better, husband," he says. Your teeth are in full view. No longer hidden by a grimace or frown or a tight-lipped grin. There was still a long way to go but Satoru was willing to go the distance. For his beloved friend who deserves it all.

He can't wait to tell Megumi you are back for good this time. He can't wait to see you interact with his students. He knew you'd get along with them, they'd love you. Gods know they need a break from him at times.

"You're so fuckin' dumb, 'Toru," you exclaim. He agrees with a hum and for the first time in a long time, you feel like yourself again.

"Made you laugh though," he dodges the pillow you'd been kneeling on with glee.

[utterlyotterlyx]

In This Shirt

Azriel x Rhys!Sister!Reader

Summary - It had been a distant dream, to reunite with your mate, but you never believed you'd live long enough to experience it.

Warnings - angst, depression, trauma, swearing, fluff,

Like it had happened yesterday, Azriel could remember the moment he had found out that you, his beautiful perfect mate, and the Princess of Velaris, had been trapped Under The Mountain.

It had been Cassian who had told him, he was the only one strong enough to battle against Azriel's fury and be able to walk away from it. His eyes had been brimming with anguish but Azriel already knew, he felt that last rush of love flow through his body like a current before it vanished, leaving him cold and broken.

Cassian didn't even need to utter the words.

Y/N is gone. So is Rhys. They've been taken Under The Mountain. Amarantha has them.

Every day that passed made his world feel heavy, and dark. Azriel had forgotten the sound of your voice one day, and it had tore his heart straight from his chest. He knew that your voice was melodic, he often likened it to that of a sirens song, pretty and serene.

The fight to get to where you were, mated, married, was long and turbulent on its own. Rhys had refused to accept it, he was furious with Azriel for it. You were his youngest sister, the light of his life, and he knew Azriel would never hurt you, he had always doted on you, he never let you do anything by yourself, but your older brother had certainly struggled with the news.

Rhys had gone as far as to ban Azriel from being near you and sent you away to reside in the Day Court for a couple of months, truly believing that the distance would make you both see that a path together was not one to be walked. In actuality, the distance had almost killed you, the land spanning between you and your mate had settled so deep within your soul that you had become very ill.

Never wanting it to go so badly, but always feeling the need to protect you, Rhys saw the error of his ways and brought Azriel to you, and watched as you cried as the colour returned to your cheeks whilst Azriel held you in his arms.

From that moment on, Rhys had been your biggest supporter, and he had cried like a baby when he saw you in your wedding dress, telling you how much your mother and sister would have loved to see you looking so perfect.

The Light of Velaris had vanished that night, you and Rhys had both sacrificed yourself to Amarantha to protect your court, your home, and it was because of that fact alone that Azriel couldn't tear at the foundations of the fortress beneath the mountain to get you out.

It was rare to get a smile out of him, or anything notable really, but Cassian had been the one to find him that evening, when the stars were hurtling across the blank canvas of the night sky, crying on his knees in your shared bedroom. One of your dresses was furled between his fingers, his shadows coiled around the velvet of the skirt, breathing you in and wishing you were there with them, "I can't remember the sound of her voice," his voice was hoarse, like it was the first time he had spoken in years, which it had been, all he emitted were huffs and grunts, but no words.

Cassian had stepped into the room, the room that had become darker since you had left, just like the rest of the family home. Just like Velaris. Shirts and dresses were strewn about the room, some on the floor, some splayed across the bed, as if Azriel had sifted through your closet to find the thing that held the strongest scent of you, of nightfall and starlight, of the faint salted oceans and warm sand.

"Az," Cassian fell to his knees. pulling his brother into his side and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Azriel had let his wings drop to the floor, he didn't bother holding them up anymore. "It's going to be alright. She's strong, they both are, they'll come back. She'd never leave you forever, you have a bargain to fulfil."

Azriel glanced to the bargain inking his forearm, a symphony of shadow and stars, holding one another like lovers in the night.

Then your wings came.

Your beautiful wings of midnight purple, so dark in their hue that many would think they were black, with the thick onyx membrane that Azriel always used to run his fingers along and smirk at your shivers, were gone. Packaged up with a blood red bow and dropped onto the table.

Azriel couldn't think about it. All he could do was pray to the Mother that you had at least been unconscious as they were taken from you. Part of him expected Rhys' to follow, but then the stories came, stories of Amarantha's whore and his ill-tempered sister who fought so hard that she was rid of the only things that gave her identity as punishment.

The wings were drooped at the tips, curling inward from the pain and torture from being away from their mate for so long. Comparing wingspans was something you did often, you were small compared to Azriel, your wings even smaller, but they were incredible things. Azriel could have sworn on countless occasions that he saw them hum with light whenever you were overcome with love.

The fiftieth year of your absence had crept in, and Azriel had forgotten what your lips tasted like, how the felt against his. There was nothing he could do, nothing anyone could do to bring you home, to him, where you belonged.

Until someone did.

Loud cries awoke him that night, he sat upright, the shirt you usually wore to bed nestled against his chest, the ever-faint aroma of you clinging to it like the last snow before spring. Frowning, Azriel shifted from the bed. He knew that voice, he knew that low rumbling power, and when he looked out of the window, his heart stopped.

Rhys was on his knees, bundled up into Mor's arms as he cried, but Azriel couldn't listen, he couldn't listen to the pain in his brothers voice, he couldn't stop himself from bursting from the room and running down the staircase.

His mind was blinded by hope and love and the mere possibility that you might have made it back too, "Where is my wife?"

Rhys rose to his feet, looking around the space as if he would find you not standing too far away, and frowning when he saw that you had vanished, "She was just here," Azriel could have crumbled at the words.

She was just here.

You were back. You had come back to him.

Rhys went to speak again but Azriel was already gone, he scoured the house top to bottom, checking every room and hallway, he went to the library, hoping to see you curled up in your spot like you had never left and the last fifty years had been nothing but a putrid nightmare.

Azriel's heart ached, he reached deep within him, deep into a place he couldn't bring himself to graze, and tugged.

Once. Twice.

The gates opened.

Azriel saw the golden thread pour from his chest, he saw it hum like a pulse as it stretched out and slithered around the corner, and his shadows danced outward to meet it, to wrap around the golden threat leading him to you, peering backward as if telling him to go.

Your mate, your husband, followed that thread, he followed it up the staircase and down the halls, breezing past the portraits hanging on the wall until he stood before the closed door of the bedroom. Azriel reached out a hand that was trembling and twisted the doorknob, softly pushing it open to reveal you.

Weight had dropped from you, and your posture was shrouded with fear as it hunched inward, your hugged yourself as your head surveyed the space. Then he saw the scars, the marred flesh poking from the back of the dress that hung from your body, a humiliation to everything you stood for, and his eyes landed on the rings of scarred flesh around your wrists and ankles, some still angry and red and peeling.

What had she done to you?

Shuddering, you turned around, stopping in your tracks at the male in the doorway being kissed by the moonlight pouring in from the thin slits of the curtains.

He was as beautiful as you remembered, hazel eyes that you had dreamt of nightly to allow you to hold onto some hope, the sharp jaw and cheekbones that you imagined your fingers brushing against, his lips that would often call out to you, not like you remembered the sound of his voice.

"Az?"

His breathing hitched and became shaky, you knew he was doing his best to not be overcome with emotion, not when you had every reason to cry and fall apart, "Say it again."

A soft sob broke through your lips at the sound, so low and hoarse, raw, but still teeming with warmth and beauty, of brighter tomorrows.

Say it again.

"Az."

Even in the dark he could see your face crumple and contort, and he rushed to you as you weakly reached for him, not being able to stop the sobs pulling from his chest either.

It was all there. Nightfall. Starlight. Salted oceans. Warm beaches.

Azriel cupped your face in his hands, so delicately, like he was afraid to break you, and tears fell from his eyes. It was you. Glazed orbs of plum peered up at him, your fingers reached to brush his tears away, "Is this some beautiful nightmare?"

Air rushed from his lungs, your eyes were glazed over, almost as if you were in some sort of trance, "No, my angel," his voice was a hush above a whisper, his fingers caressed your cheeks, "This is real."

"I'm home?"

Realisation hit you and your eyes became clear, "You're home."

"I thought I was lost," you placed your hands on his arms, and he watched your tattoo dance in the moonlight, a twin to his own, "I knew I'd find you."

Azriel pulled you in close, he cradled your head against his chest and held you tighter as the weight of the last fifty years crushed you, "My wings," you cried and Azriel's wings pinned themselves backward, dipping themselves from sight, "She took them. How can you love me? How can you see me as anything other than weak?"

Lifting your head to meet his, Azriel's finger trailed the line of your jaw, "You are not weak, my love. Weakness would weep at the mere thought of being associated with you, for they will never get to know what it's like to have courage in the most awful of odds. It would never get to know you, because it is not a part of you and it never will be. I love you, y/n. I have always loved you and always will. I would love you in any form, in any life, in any universe. You are mine. You are my everything. You are the strongest thing I have ever encountered and the most beautiful thing to walk the heavens."

"You would not save your entire court, your family, and your husband, and go through everything you have been through, and lost what you have lost, if you weren't the strongest creature on this planet," Azriel's lips curled downward, uneven breaths fell from his lips, "I forgot the sound of your voice."

In the worst moments of your torture, all you thought of was Azriel and this moment, the moment where it would have all been worth it just to see him healthy and alive, "I forgot yours too."

Azriel sighed, he pressed his forehead against yours and took a moment to just inhale you, to let the ocean breeze pour into his soul and bring him back to life, "Can I hold you?"

Nodding softly, you felt Azriel pull away, he peeled that dress from your body and pulled one of his jumpers over your head. He led you gently over to the bed, placing you down on the side of the mattress which had forgotten the shape of you and pulled you into him.

"I'm sorry for what this has done to you."

It hadn't escaped your eye at all, the curls of onyx under his eyes, the droop of his wings, the worry that clung to him and haunted his every step. It may have been awful Under The Mountain, but you'd never want to be the one waiting for their love to come home. It would destroy you.

Azriel didn't say anything as his fingers raked over your scalp, loosening all the tension in your mind. The scent of cedar and night-kissed mountains flooded you and you nestled into that spot on his chest, reaching behind you to pull his wing over your side and smiling softly at the feeling of it. To have wings.

"I'm home," Azriel just held onto you tighter, moulding your body to the curves of his own, pressing kisses into your hairline and running his fingers through your hair.

Then your breathing fell soft, your eyes had drifted closed, and you looked peaceful, a soft smile lingered on your lips.

Azriel slept better than he ever had that night, knowing that you were back, that you had come home to him, and knowing that no matter where you walked, Azriel would always follow.

Author's Note

I love himmmmmmmm

[yandere-romanticaa]

she walks in beauty.

🎀 Today is Diluc's birthday. However, instead of focusing on himself, he can't help but to fall into his usual lovesick trap of gentle obsession.

yandere! diluc ragnvidr x fem! reader.

Ever since he was a young lad, Diluc could recall every single banquet and celebration which was hosted by the Dawn Winery estate. He could still sense the smell of various colorful liquors and taste the endless sea of pastries and cakes which were served at such events, making the inner child in him smile.

However, Diluc was no longer a young child.

Ever since the passing of his father, the need to throw any grand banquets was thoroughly diminished. While yes, there were certain things he could not avoid due to societal expectations, he still made the decision to keep things to an absolute minimum.

His birthday was not one of them. At least, not by his choice.

Everyone and their mother knew what day it was today and Diluc lost count with how many birthday wishes and gifts he had received. He was a little touched with the plethora of people who wanted him nothing other than joy, but those same people quickly became a nuisance because he could not seem to be with the one he actually wanted to be with today.

And there stood Diluc, hidden in the shadowy hallway as he watched his beloved prepare for the upcoming festivities. With both his arms crossed and his left side pressed firmly against the dark wood doorframe, Diluc decided in that moment that there was nowhere else he'd rather be than here.

His red eyes watched you thoroughly like a hawk, making sure to remember the ravishing scenery before him.

As much as you disliked his gifts, you didn't have a choice but to accept them this evening. The gentle sapphire necklace hung around your neck perfectly, the fine silver glimmering gently beneath the flickering candle flames. Diluc's gaze quickly shifted to your arms as they toyed with the various strands of hair at the top of your head, carefully adjusting the matching pin he had gotten you not too long ago.

He felt his heart skip a beat once he caught a glimpse of the wedding ring on your finger, causing him to nearly lose his composure and blow his cover altogether. His own ring seemed to come alive as he felt it around his finger, seemingly pulsing with a firey need to just take you, to see the light in your eyes, to beg you to please forgive him-

Even now, he could still hear you weep, for each tear felt like a stab straight into his bleeding heart.

Please, don't lock me away, you pleaded.

"I will be with no one but you. I will give you everything you desire but please Diluc-

Do not keep me as a prisoner!"

He sighed as he fidgeted with his gloved fingers. Diluc hated himself for doing this to you, for making you so utterly miserable. He was the one who took you away, it was him who had stolen that precious smile away from you. If you had been a normal couple perhaps this evening could have been more bearable. Perhaps he could have even enjoyed it, with you by his side.

But that was not how things were going to play out.

Diluc was stuck in a Hell of his own making. Every single tear that you had shed and will shed - that was all on him. Money can buy a lot of things but your love was not one of them. A new surge of determination was born deep inside of Diluc on that night of his birthday and he finally knew what his wish was.

He wished to make amends. Perhaps he could learn to live without your love, even if the mere thought made his teeth shake in fury and heart cry out in blind sorrow.

But he needed you to know that you were loved. He needed you to know that he was going to keep you safe. He was going to love you until his very last breath and even then, he would wait for the day of your sweet forgiveness.

🥀 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @mayulli, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @saturnalya, @alatusprinz, @lakxcpsta, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149

Happy birthday to this wonderful man. He was my first ever husband in Genshin Impact, he deserves something extra sweet from yours truly.

[miguel-owhora]

dragon!price who's an alpha—a lonely alpha. he's been alone for quite some time now, his nest barren and empty, no mate to sing dragonic songs back to him miles away, no mate to rekindle the embers in his heart.

his hoard—sorry, the 141—help him fill these empty spots. soap's rambunctious attitude and gaz's encouragement and ghost's dryly amused comments fill in the lonely parts, bringing him down from the soaring heavens and back to the ground, where price hears the thumping of the earth's core if he falls back into his dragonic instincts deep enough.

dragons are rare to come nowadays. most spend their lives in secrecy, in some rural land most would struggle to pronounce the names of, spent hiding in either solitude or with their mates—and in certain cases, families.

so imagine price's surprise when laswell drops in a new member into his little hoard. she says it's temporary, but there's a glimmer on her eyes when she says it, one that makes sense when price sees you—another dragon.

an omega, price's alpha brain tells him, awakening with glee at another dragon hybrid, at someone who could complete him. a potential mate.

price's alpha instincts are purring when he introduces himself, and he must look like a fool, when he hears his boys sniggering in the background. something lights up something in his chest, instincts roaring to life, when you smile at him and shake his hand. your hand makes his burn, hotter than anything else, hotter than the fire he hatched out of.

it comes to no surprise to him when you're even more reserved than ghost. dragon hybrids are already secretive as they are; omega dragon hybrids are worse. but eventually, price worms his way past the walls you've put up and the fun part comes: courtship.

for every type of naturalborn hybrid that roams earth, they each have their own courtship rituals. for many of them, alphas must prove their worth to their potential mate. werewolf hybrids will bring back game, will defend territory; harpies—depending on which region they live in—will also prove their worth by bringing back prey and helping to build nests.

price can recall the number of times soap had dragged in the corpse of a deer, still warm and fresh to ghost, or how gaz had proudly weaved a wall of brambles and sticks (nevermind the nails and sharp blades) outside ghost's private room. it amused him to no end, seeing them fall prey to their instincts.

but price isn't laughing when he succumbed to his own instincts.

your introduction to the team and you letting price get close to you already had his dragonic alpha mind reeling with excitement. even moreso when you approved of him courting you.

now, dragon hybrids were something else. oftentimes, they were more older than the other hybrids, more ancient and forged deep within the earth's core, connected to mother earth like no other. as such, their courting rituals were more.. barbaric, in other words.

price feels alive when he has to fight you, when your claws dig at his skin and his teeth at your shoulder, near your bite mark. when you roar with fury and punch him away, when your omegan sex has his alphan sex pumping with life. when you both tear up the training room, your set of wings flapping and glittering underneath the artificial lights, when price finally pins you down, when you give a purr of approval.

price finds the prettiest items and gifts them to you, when he dances between feeling overjoyed when you accept it, feeling like he's been stabbed when you reject it. gift by gift price feels pride bloom within him when he sees your little gift hoard grow. when he gifts you a pack of his cherished cigars and gives you his signature hat, he has to go outside and do circles in the heavens when you accept it with gentle hands and carefully guard it.

all of his hard work pays off when you tug him by his scruff and take him to your bedroom, where your bed is carefully nestled with different blankets, with clothes that reek of him. he feels like the luckiest man when you strip yourself of your clothes and lay on the bed, letting your wings—gorgeous things they are—spread out underneath you, take up the bed. your cock, hard and leaking and big, lays on your belly, cum pooling like ichor.

you spread your legs, the scent of an omega ready to mate and take what's theirs, registering in price's brain. it's all he needs before he's racing to tear his clothes off and climbs on you.

he's purring loudly when he touches you all over, dipping his head to kiss at your body, thankful that you gave him the chance to prove his worth. your scent is thick and heavy, musk strong. it makes the embers in his chest flicker and grow to a small fire.

the fire grows when he slips his cock inside, shuddering at how tight and hot you are, burning him. you don't help him, content to lay back and let him figure it out, but price is more than happy to do it by himself. anything for you.

he gets you to cum several times, spilling all over your belly, makes you whimper his name, dig your claws into his back and pull him close to kiss him hard.

price is only ever given permission to cum when you decide he's worthy. your claws dig into your chest and rip it open, an ancient heart beating, cracks of old magic glowing an unusual color. price knows what's to come, but he still grits his teeth when you also rip his chest open.

his knot is forming, catching on your hole, when the two hearts—ancient and waiting for each other after so many years—intertwine together. price pushes his knot in and finally cums, fuck, he shudders and moans, in pleasure and in pain when he feels your anal barbs dig around his cock and knot, making sure he's secured for a while.

the world seems brighter when he collapses on you, open chests bleeding together. he gives little nudges of his hips, cockhead kissing your womb, brushing against your prostate. he feels you sigh contently, and price's heart is a wildfire.

[myhappylittlesideblog]

Gotch-yer Back

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: Violence, Walker death, other TWD character death (Amy), Daryl being a bit of a jerk and then fixing it, let me know if there's anything else! Basically what seems to be regular TWD fanfic warnings. Also I believe this is only Fem!Reader because he calls Reader "girl."

Summary: A retelling of the night walkers attack at the quarry and how you and Daryl help each other deal with the aftermath.

You tried to remember the last time you’d eaten fish. It had been a while, a few weeks maybe? A few long weeks forcing yourself to eat squirrel or a rabbit if you were lucky. Or if you were unlucky, even snake. You’d eat whatever was caught if you were hungry enough, or simply to stay alive another day.

Fish was a delicacy these days. The girls- Amy and Andrea had caught a load of them in the quarry. It was white fish which had always been your favorite. It was easy to cook and fell apart in yummy flakes. Hell, you didn’t even need a fork.

It was hot in your mouth and the heat of the meal radiated in your belly. The group chewed and chattered while you were lost in your own thoughts. Your mother used to make a great dish when you lived with her. Cod with a breading on top that was made with Ritz crackers. You missed her. You missed her cooking. You wondered where she was now-

Everyone laughed suddenly and the sound made you jump.

“William Faukner,” Dale said, smiling.

Lori reached over Carl and rested a comforting hand on your arm. Understanding glowed in her eyes in the firelight. Loud noises always made you nervous these days.

By the time you saw the pan of fish that had been passed around, the last filet was being pulled out of it by a stabbing fork.

“Shouldn’t we save some?” you asked Lori. “The guys’ll be back soon.”

“We’ll catch some more tomorrow,” Andrea said to you, catching your attention from a few seats down.

“Yeah,” Amy said. “We’re pros.” 

Despite the light conversation, Lori looked grim. You and her seemed to be the only people worried about the men who’d gone off to find Merle and the bag of guns that was left in the street in Atlanta. She had her arm around Carl as he munched and grinned at Dale. You couldn’t imagine how she was feeling about her husband’s return, nevermind his volunteering to lead the charge back into one of the most dangerous places in this new age. He’d just gotten back. It was written all over her face as she gazed into the flames of the fire.

You weren’t a fan of Merle. In fact, you disliked him thoroughly. The pit in your gut surrounding his abandonment had nothing to do with his safety, or his life, but with Daryl’s. You weren’t even sure if you liked the younger Dixon either. He seemed to follow too closely in his brother’s footsteps to be safe or dependable. Or even nice. But you did respect him. After all, he’d helped to keep you safe and almost single handedly kept the group fed with his hunting and tracking skills. 

Still, no. He wasn’t very nice.

You had a feeling, however, that you had his respect in return. It only took a few crude remarks from Merle for you to fire back at him with enough force to keep him off your back for a few days. Daryl apparently hadn’t been too far away that day and had heard your reply to Merle’s degrading comments. 

“Impressive,” he’d said. “For a quiet girl.”

The next time Merle got colorful with his words towards you, Daryl was the one to take the heat for you. Told his brother to quit it. Since then, your relationship with the older Dixon was extremely minimal and even when it was forced, he left you alone.

Though you wouldn’t have missed Merle one bit, you watched Daryl take the news of his desertion when the cop- Rick- told him what had happened on the supply run. While you of course expected fury from Daryl, you hadn’t expected such emotion to fly out of him. He was a wrecking ball of threats and fists with tears running down his dirty cheeks. It was sad.

He must have seen the pity in your face then. When you called to him, tried to calm him down and move him away from Shane, he’d shoved you. “Get lost, girl.”

Needless to say, the men in this group were difficult. But at least the others were in the group. Daryl was on the outskirts of it and without his brother, it would be too easy for him to get thrust out. While you didn’t want that, you knew it was also vital for the survival of the group for him to stay. You had a feeling he wasn’t as impenetrable as the armor he wore.

You were worried about Daryl. You were also worried about Glenn and T-Dog, and Rick- Lori and Carl included. And as you sat there before the fire, you wondered what the hell would happen if Merle returned.

That was when you heard Amy scream. You didn’t recognize the sound at first, it was so sudden and so loud. It was a cry of anguish and fear. One that begged for help.

After that, it was chaos.

You turned over your shoulder, watching Amy and her assailant, even pondering for a split second who had snuck into the camp. What stranger would go after a girl just trying to go to the bathroom. But of course, it wasn’t a who. It was a what.

“Get behind me!” Shane roared. 

You knew there wasn’t time. Reaching into your pocket, you grabbed the unfamiliar hunting knife you had with you and unsheathed it. You stepped over the log you’d been sitting on, away from the fire, but also further away from Shane and the safety of his gun, towards one of the geeks. It wasn’t just ugly and rank and dead, it was terrifying. The look of it, the smell of it made your stomach sink so far, it felt like it’d fell out of your body.

It snarled and gnashed its mouth at you while its thin, wiry fingers reached for you, but all the while, you focused on its hair. It was the same in death as it was in life- long locks of protein that couldn’t hurt you. Harmless. So you aimed your knife there.

In the brain, in the brain, it has to be in the brain, don’t you know anything-

The thing stopped once your knife sunk into its skull. Its arms dropped to its hollow sides and its lifeless eyes looked at you, long enough to send a shudder through you before it dropped to the ground, taking your one and only weapon with it. 

“Get up here! Come to the RV!” you heard.

There were more screams, the thunk of childhood baseball bats slamming into hard skulls, the echoing sound of gunshots. Closer to you, though, and more urgently, there was deep guttural snarling, groaning and gurgling- the sound of the dead coming for you.

Shane had brought the children to the RV, safe, their backs leaning against the cold metal. Lori and Carol were there, Jim was at the treeline with his bat, Andrea on the ground with- with Amy. Amy’s body. You were alone. In the middle of the chaos, too far from any other living humans to take any aid.

“(Y/N)! Get up here! Jim!” Shane’s voice was hoarse.

You dove for your knife, yanking it out of the walker’s head with a squelch. You could only manage three or four steps up the hill before another undead was upon you. It was too close, its long nails a hair’s breadth away from your bare skin and its decaying teeth lunging closer with every stride. Again, you had to gather all your strength, grip your knife tight and focus- be calm enough to aim for the enemy’s brain. You had one chance, or you’d turn into one of them.

Carl would have to see it, Sophia, Lori. Daryl.

You grunted with the effort and the tip of the knife hit home and sunk into the geek’s head. This time you were able to free your knife before the thing fell to the ground. You scanned the land in front of you, looking for more threats. There were so many bodies on the ground. Bodies of people from your group, people that you’d gotten to know. They were lying still now. Leaking onto the dirt.

Then an arm wrapped around your middle and dragged you uphill. You screamed and thrashed, but whatever had you was strong.

“It’s me,” his voice rasped in your ear. 

It immediately calmed you. You held onto Daryl’s arm as if it were a buoy saving you from drowning in gray, storming waves of a murderous ocean. He led you to the others near the van and deposited you there before letting go of you.

He was back. You saw Rick, T-Dog and Glenn, all in various states of emotional disrepair, but Daryl just looked around, calmly taking in the carnage. 

“Daryl,” you said to him, “you okay?”

“Whaddah you think?” he snarled. “Ya see mah brother anywhere? Huh?”

So the moment was short lived. You ignored whatever he said next, running your hand along the outside of the RV, using it as a crutch as you moved to check on Carol and Sophia, then on Lori. You didn’t have it in you to survey much more than that. You trembled from the inside out and watched Rick hug his little boy as tears streamed down his face. 

At least they were back. 

It was somewhat painstakingly decided that you would all save the cleanup for tomorrow morning. The survivors had vans or tents to escape into. To leave the dead outside. Except for Andrea. One look at her- that was all you could handle- and you knew she wasn’t going to leave her sister any time soon.

You fell to your knees, jeans sinking into the soft dirt and stared into the flames of the campfire that was still burning strong. It was only then you found the hunting knife still in your tight grip, crusted over with brown, lumpy goo. At that point in the night, you couldn’t understand exactly what the remains were and for that, you were grateful. The bit of blade still showing reflected in the light coming from the pit, shades of orange and red glowing between your fingers. 

Shane crouched beside you and though his landing was silent and agile, you jumped.

“S’alright,” he said, taking the weapon out of your scrunched hand. “Lemme clean it.”

“I can clean it,” Daryl grumbled from above, snatching the knife from Shane. “S’mine anyway.”

Shane let it happen, concentrating on you. He carefully set a hand on your shoulder. “Ya did good,” he said.

“You too,” you answered, like a little league pitcher on the losing team. 

He stood and put his hands on his hips. “Try ta get some rest,” he said from the air.

You nodded.

Only when Shane was gone, did Daryl move closer to you. He sat on the ground and leaned back against the log the group had been using as dinner seats less than an hour ago. He sat back for a while, leaving you to watch the flames die down as he worked one of his rags into the crevices of the hunting knife. Slowly, you heard the others of the group- those living- say goodnight to each other and slide into their respective dwellings for what was left of the evening.

Distantly, though he sat just beside you, you heard Daryl speak. “S’right bout one thing.”

“Hm?”

“Ya did good. I saw ya when we were runnin’ up the hill. Doin’ what I told ya to do.”

You turned to him, but he wasn’t looking at you. Your feet stung under you, asleep after kneeling on them for so long, as you moved to sit on your bottom next to Daryl. He turned the cleaned knife in his hand before passing it you, handle out.

You shook your head. “It’s yours.”

He plopped it on your lap. “S’yours now. I gave it to ya. You’ll need it.”

You didn’t want to need it. He knew that too. All the same, it was a good thing he’d left it with you when he went to Atlanta. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting next to him right now. Speaking to him. Feeling the heat that didn’t just emit from the fire, but from him by your side as well. 

“Thank you,” you said, sliding the knife back into its sheath and into your pocket, where you hoped it would stay, unneeded for a long time. Or at least for the rest of the night.

You turned to him, but again, he wasn’t looking at you. He rarely did. But you knew he was still there, still with you by the way his head tilted towards you. Like he was watching you out of the corner of his eye. As if you were a deer in the forest, ready to bolt away from him at any moment.

“I’m sorry you didn’t find Merle.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah right. You hate Merle.”

“Hate is a strong word,” you said.

He chuckled- a grim, gruff sound deep in his chest. 

You watched him, feeling free to do so since he so rarely looked you in the eye. He was biting the inside of his lip over and over and picking at his fingernails. 

You waited.

He peeked at you, inhaling deep. “Didn’ mean ta snap atcha. Earlier.”

When he yelled, you thought. By the RV, after he’d pulled you to safety. 

You nodded. “S’alright. It’s been a tough day all around.”

Humming in agreement, he turned back to the fire. You two were square now. But you also hoped he knew that if he snapped at you like that again, you wouldn’t be so quick to forgive. 

There was a flapping from above that shook the leaves in the trees. It was a soft, peaceful sound of nature, but after this night, in this new world, it startled you to your core.

“Just a bird,” Daryl said.

You sucked in a breath that made your lungs quake in your chest. “I’m sick of being so scared all the damn time,” you mumbled, tipping your head forward, holding your face in your hands. Things had only been like this for two months? Three? And you were already exhausted, tired of it all. How much longer could you take? Or, how much longer would it take for you to just-

Daryl stood. “Come on,” he said. He waved toward his tent. “Gotta getcha away from this damn bloodbath ‘er you’ll never calm down.”

You violently shook your head. “I can’t- I don’t wanna be alone-”

He was already walking toward the tent he shared with Merle. “Yer stayin’ with me. So I know where ya are.”

Your system went from fight or flight to frozen. He- Daryl- wanted you- where? After every shove and snap and swear towards you, now he wanted you to come with him? To be in his space? Overnight?

You stared at him. He tossed his crossbow into his tent, lifting the flap and heading inside when he turned back and saw you still on the ground in front of the fire.

“Or do ya wanna stay out here alone?”

“No.”

“Then get off yer ass.”

You scrambled to your feet and scurried to the tent’s flap. You felt like a scolded child, like your dignity had been left in the dirt, but you didn’t care. After the walker attack, you couldn’t be alone and you had been trusting Daryl with your life for weeks now, not that you’d ever tell anyone that. You felt the safest when you were with him. Tonight you needed that. Especially tonight. 

“Ya can take that side,” Daryl mumbled, pointing. 

The tent was small. Big enough to stand up in, but not very wide. There were two sleeping bags strewn out close to each other with a lumpy pillow on each. He tossed an extra blanket onto the side he told you to take. It was the one with the crossbow at its foot. And you recognized his cut off flannel shoved into the duffle beside it.

“I can’t take your bed.”

“Ain’t a bed,” he said, spreading the other sleeping bag open flat and sitting on it.

“Well, I can’t take your bag.”

“Would you rather stick your face in Merle’s pillow all night?”

You grimaced, thinking of the monster of a man and what he’d probably done to that innocent pillow.

“Thought not,” Daryl said. He grumbled it, but you heard the smirk in his voice.

“The definition of ‘pick your poison’,” you said, crouching to sit on the soft sleeping bag. 

“Girl-” Daryl said, swatting at you as he rolled over, putting his back to you.

You swung back, smacking his shoulder. “I was kidding.”

In answer, he gave another blind swat, making you giggle. 

You laid back into the double layer of sleeping bag, enjoying the way it was cool to the touch underneath you. The pillow, though thin, felt nice when you situated it under your head the way you liked it. Everything around you smelled like him- gas, grease, cigarettes- yes, but something else too. It wasn’t a bad smell, just a natural one. Just Daryl.

You were laying on your side, facing him. You watched him sink into the darkness as you spun the dial on the lantern until it turned off. Dark, though it was, you could still see his form clearly. Not sleeping yet. 

“Thank you, Daryl,” you said.

He grunted, flopping to lay on his back and folding one of his arms under his head. “Get some sleep.”

It was then you realized how small the tent really was. When he laid on his back, his leg could almost touch your knee as you curled up on your side. He was an enigma, alright, you thought. Couldn’t bear to look you in the eye, saved your life, snapped at you in front of everyone and now slept beside you like it was nothing.

You sighed, following suit and laying on your back too. “Don’t think I’m gonna be able to catch much of that,” you said.

His pillow rustled as he looked toward you. “What the hell happened there?” He took your hand from where it rested over your forehead and studied the angry red scrapes and purple bruising on your knuckles. “This happen tonight?”

“No,” you said, taking your hand from his grasp and tucking it under you, embarrassed. “Happened earlier.”

“How’d you bust it up like that?”

“I, um… I just hurt it. Against Ed’s face.”

Daryl gave a laughing hiss. “I saw his face. You did that?”

“Some of it. Shane did the rest.”

“Fuck yeah.”

“He had it comin’,” you said, barely finishing the last word and regretting saying anything at all. Ed may have deserved a few punches, hell, he deserved jail time. But what happened to him tonight- eaten alive, alone- you weren’t sure anyone deserved that. It made your stomach roll in your gut and you stung with shame.

“Fucking badass, girl,” Daryl said.

It was quiet in the dark for a long moment. 

“M’not, Daryl. I’m just fucking scared.”

There was more rustling beside you as Daryl shimmied around on his sleeping bag. 

“Turn over. That way,” he said.

You did as he told you, laying on your side with your back to him. His body moved up against yours, his heat blooming on your shoulders, bum, and the backs of your legs. A little too forcefully, he lifted your head to slide his arm underneath and cradle you close.

“Ain’t nothin’ gettin’ in this tent tonight. I gotch’yer back. You can handle your front.”

You nodded, feeling tears gather in your eyes. Your cheeks were hot, as though they were on fire as you cried, finally letting out the emotion of the evening. The death, the kills, the fear, and the relief all ran down your face and into your shirt or onto Daryl’s pillow or his arm supporting your head. As your breath caught, he reached around you with his free arm, hugging you close and rubbing his thumb on the skin of your injured hand. You grasped him hard. You needed to.

Before this night, you weren’t sure what you thought of the younger Dixon brother. He was rough and nasty and you wondered just how much he took after Merle. Before this moment, you thought he’d run for the hills if you ever touched him with one single finger, nevermind your whole body- your whole being like you were now. But he was there, still with you and unbothered. Safe.

“Sleep,” he mumbled.

You nodded, squeezing his hand again before letting it go and allowing your body to relax against his. And eventually, in his arms, listening to his steady breath, you slept.

[itsvelyria]

"types of smiles the f1 boys would love from their s/o"

happy show-your-loved-ones-you-love-them day!! 🤍🤎

Charles Leclerc

the shy smile: he fell in love with you when he saw that smile for the first time. he always knew you were too good, too nice to this cruel world and despite all the hardships you’d faced, you somehow still retained that innocence from childhood. that shy smile, all gentle and modest — he liked to think you reserved it solely for him, made his heart flutter like a schoolboy with their first crush all over again. your lowered eyes, radiating a certain charm he could never put to words. it was like he was cleansed from all the negativity that accompanied his line of work. maybe it would be better to say he was your devoted follower, begging his goddess for just a glimpse of her smile every so often.

Carlos Sainz

the loving smile: it wasn’t like Carlos had never had a crush before, hell he’s been in a long-term relationship before. but never has he felt the pull to you so strong before, even as you are right across him, laughing at something his sister said. his mind can only focus on the way your eyes sparkle at dinner with his family, mapping the crinkles beside them. and as the gaze he is dying to have land on him does, the bright smile shifts, edges softening into fondness, the slight raise of your eyebrows asking what he needed. he reaches across the table, greedily needing to feel your warmth too, wanting this moment to last forever.

Danny Ricciardo

the smirk: he can see it taunting him even from a few feet away, in the neon pink glow of the club. you were teasing him, challenging him after a casual remark about how you had no game. the glances you send up at the second level where he hung by the railing shoots sparks of green fury in him. he should have known better; you were nothing if not confident and it was evident in the guy you had been grinding against for the past 15 minutes. he hated everything about this, his skin felt like it was on literal fire, and he had half a mind to go down to the floor to drag you away. perhaps Max had a point, maybe he needed to face the reality that he had feelings for you.

George Russell

the warm smile: miles away from your hometown, new cities every week, away from everything and everyone he'd ever known, you were his anchor. your presence grounded him when it felt like the world was spiralling away and he had absolutely no control over anything. he waited as you spoke to a member of the team, the warm smile on your face taking the tension out of the new girl. it was the same smile you brought to restaurants and parties, making the people around feel at home. it was the same smile you gave him in his moments of uncertainty. you bounded over happily, saying something about the same school, with the new girl trailing behind and as he smiled at his colleague, something in his brain told him that things may change and ebb away but your smile could never.

Lando Norris

the proud smile: his whole life, he’s been working to be the best – to stand on the topmost step of the podium and hold that trophy up, to have people acknowledge him as a great driver, the best in the world. and he’s one step closer, the first race win of his career, a step towards greater things. he could feel the elation emitting from his entire team, but the pats on his back and cheers from his team couldn’t compare with that beam on your face. even all the way up on the podium, the only thing he was focused on was your face and how it resembled a mother hen looking on her chick. he pumps the trophy higher, the sense of pride bursting in his chest and all he could think about was how he was going to be a better driver, a better man, for you.

Lewis Hamilton

the comforting smile: it was the slightest tilt of your lips, the light from his nightstand outlining the soft frame of your body. the smile in your voice was easy to detect even as he laid his head on your tummy, exhausted from a long day of endless meetings and emails. sometimes, he wonders why he works so hard. his life has already amounted to so much and he had accumulated enough life experience to know the most important thing was family and his sweetheart. and then its nights like this, when the world beyond your sanctuary is dead asleep and everything fades away, leaving only what mattered: the gentle vibration under his head and your sweet lullaby and smile telling him nothing was more important than this moment right now.

Max Verstappen

the smiling eyes: the Internet had never been a nice place to him. sneers and belittling comments deterring him from ever going on there if he had a choice. but as a 3-time World Champion, his social media obligations were more important than before. when you two started dating, he wanted to keep it private. everything bad in the world, in his opinion, had no chance of ever hurting you as long as he was around. which is also why he never brought you to races. the fewer the interactions between you, the less there was for the media to scrutinize. but it was moments like this, as the camera pans to you in the garage. your face is hidden but your eyes are bright and admiring him in his element, your name broadcasted with his beneath, told to whoever was watching, that he bookmarks the image in his mind.

[cclottedcreamcookie]

No, actually! Some timeline issue or something like that. TBD is working on it.

wiz

“O.. oh. Well… I hope it.. get’s fixed soon. Where was he before everything happened..? Is he safe? Is Financier safe?”

[heart-of-a-rebel16]

I think about it a lot, how the name of Spectres is incredibly fitting for the rebels of Lothal. Each is a ghost, and each is haunted by one, or many.

The ghost of the Jedi Order haunts Kanan Jarrus. He is one of their last relics: a symbol of a forgotten creed and age. He tries his best to pass his teachings on to his own padawan, but deep down he knows that the traditions of the Order will die with him. He tried not to let it bother him. Sometimes in the corner of his eye, he will see a tall woman in brown robes, smiling gently at him.

The ghost of her mother, Eleni, haunts Hera Syndulla. To look at herself in the mirror is to look at the face of her beloved ryma. Hera possesses the fire and iron will of Eleni, the very will that followed her to her end. Sometimes, when Cham Syndulla reads the headlines of Imperial newspapers, decrying a new terrorist cell known as the Spectres, he will think of the woman he loved, and how she lives strong in their daughter.

The old C1-10P unit known as Chopper is the ghost of the Republic; not the Jedi, nor the Sith, but the everyday soldier who took up arms for their galaxy, soldiers who could not know the full breadth of evil that threatened them. Chopper does not sleep, but on occasion, his memory core will play back a scene of a burning ship, and the scream of the pilot behind him. 

The ghost of his people haunts Garazeb Orrelios. He is the last of his kind, completely alone in a galaxy of quadrillions. His people follow him in the words no one understands but him, in the weapon he wields that has been passed down through generations, in the small traditions only he observes, if only to remind himself that he is still a Lasat. In the golden light of a star cluster, some of those ghosts are put to a much deserved rest; the rest follow onwards in quiet reverence.

The ghost of her family haunts Sabine Wren. To her clan she is dead, and to her, her family is dead as well. Though the mere thought of them makes her chest ache with want, she stands strong in her solitude. Mandalore still throbs within her in every shot from a blaster, in every stroke of a paintbrush, in every explosion that paints the night sky with fire. When she is alone, though, the face of her beloved brother, the voice of her father, the warm touch of her mother will keep her company. 

The ghost of Mira and Ephraim Bridger, and the planet they call home haunt their son, Ezra. As he grows old in a distant galaxy, Ezra Bridger has no trouble remembering his fathers face, for it had become his. In every step, in every breath, he radiates the howling of wolves, the chitter of cats, the towering spires of rock, the natural music of Lothal. He is driven by his ghosts; two of them are laid to gentle sleep in the fluttering fury of fyrnocks wings, the other in the pulsing glow of purrgils.

The ghosts of his brothers, even those who did not die in battle, follow former trooper CT-7567, better known as Rex. He sees them in the weathered faces of those who did survive, in a cloudy handprint on a wall, in the clocks as they strike five, in the symbol of the republic he fought and failed to protect. He is both a paragon of the endless cruelty of the fallen republic, and the gentle humanity of the long gone Jedi.

The ghost of a unit of boys on Onderon, barely old enough to know they had been sent to die, follow Alexsandr Kallus. He is the whisper of misplaced, frantic hope that things could become better if he only tried hard enough, if he only pushed himself further. His ghosts only appear to him in his dreams, beyond the veil of smoke and fire and screams, where he is not strong enough to push them aside.

In each there is a ghost, and in each a ghost follows them, shaping their world, driving their choices, changing their fate.

[nyrandrea]

You have very good writing and I think you really do comfort fics well! So I was wondering if you could write a fic with Astarion where the Tav he is trying to seduce has like major self esteem issues. Like they kind laugh at his attempts to compliment them. But at first it seems like a joke until he realizes that Tav isn't joking about it and he tries to help them see they are beautiful. (this is one of my fav prompts to give people ngl)

Thank you so much! This is a lovely prompt and I hope I did it some justice! :)

Word Count - 2k

Enjoy!

xxx

As the storm clouds gathered ominously on the horizon, you and your party found yourselves on a desolate, rain-soaked road in the middle of nowhere. The relentless downpour had turned the earth into a sea of mud, and the wind howled like a vengeful spirit. 

Your clothes were soaked through, and faces were etched with exhaustion and desperation. With each step, your boots sank into the muck, making the journey even more arduous. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a menacing reminder that you had to find shelter soon. 

“Ugh, there’s probably some saying about rainbows after the storm and whatnot,” Astarion said, holding a rucksack over his head in a failing attempt to save his hair. “But I’d much rather not be out in the middle of one.” 

“Ah, it’s not so bad, just think of it as a long overdue shower,” Gale said. “And the saying is ‘Don’t fear the storm, for the rainbow is never far behind!’” 

“Oh yes, that’s the one,” the vampire drawled.  “I’ll rest so much better now that you have enlightened me.” 

Amid the pelting rain, you spotted a faint glimmer of light in the distance. With newfound hope, you quickened your pace and beckoned the others to follow. As you trudged closer, the light revealed itself to be a cozy inn, nestled among ancient trees that shielded it from the worst of the storm. 

“Thank the Gods,” Karlach breathed. “If I got any more drenched, my engine would have snuffed out.” 

“Wouldn’t that solve your problem, then?” Lae’zel snidely chimed in, only to hiss when you elbowed her. 

The inn's windows emitted a warm, inviting glow, and the scent of wood smoke and hearty meals wafted through the air. Your tired body yearned for a meal and a warm bed, mindflayer tadpoles be damned. 

“Have we got enough gold to stay here? I mean, for everyone to have a room?” Shadowheart asked. 

“We should do,” you said, pulling out the team’s shared coin pouch. “I sold that egg we uh... found.” 

“You mean the one we stole after we killed its mother?” Wyll asked, clear disdain lacing his voice. 

“It’s not technically stealing if the target is dead,” Astarion cheerfully chimed in. “Besides, we rescued the other one, didn’t we? One good turn deserves another.” 

Wyll grimaced. “Your idea of virtue is a damn twisted one.” 

“Aw, you love me really,” the vampire teased back. 

“Here we are!” you announced as you reached the inn's doorstep, you were greeted by the innkeeper, whose eyes twinkled with the knowledge that you had nowhere else to go for the night. After taking payment, he ushers you inside, where a crackling fireplace cast a comforting light over the room, he takes your belongings up to your rooms with the help of Wyll and a begrudging Astarion. 

Finding a long wooden table in the corner of the room, the group sat together, their spirits lifted by the fact that they were safe from the fury of the storm outside, at least for one night. The innkeeper, his apron stained with years of hospitality, served you a hearty meal of roasted meats, fresh bread, and stew. 

You listened to the rain's rhythmic drumming on the inn's thatched roof, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for having found refuge in this little hidden haven. With a deep, contended sigh, you tucked into your meal, savouring every bite.

At least, you were trying to. 

“You better eat up,” Astarion teased, lacing his fingers together as he rested his chin upon them to watch you. “Because I plan on doing just that very soon.” 

“Crap,” you mumbled between mouthfuls. “Are you hungry? Why didn’t you say so?” 

“Oh, am I hungry,” he smirked. “Just not for blood.” 

You almost choked, but you masked it well with a nervous chuckle. He wasn’t... flirting with you, was he? You had always been bad at picking up signals, not that you received them often. 

‘Nah,’ you thought. He couldn’t be, not when there were so many other better-looking people, at this table alone, that he could choose from. 

“Well, I know you’re not craving my charming banter.” 

“Oh no, something far better.” 

Now you really were at a loss. 

“Do you... need to borrow my hair comb again?” 

“I mean sex, darling.” 

This time you couldn’t hide the choke, but you were more afraid of dying from embarrassment than anything else. 

“What?” 

The deafening silence that had befallen the table was broken by a low whistle from Karlach. 

“The direct approach, I can respect that, mate.” 

“Direct? I’ve been trying to drop hints for weeks now but perhaps a little more serenading is needed,” he looked you up and down with a knowing smile; he had hooked you, now it was time to reel you in. 

“Darling,” Astarion began softly, his voice a gentle caress, “when I look into your eyes, I see galaxies of beauty and depth that defy description. It’s as if the universe itself painted them with the colours of a thousand sunsets.” 

A faint blush tinged your cheeks as you lowered your eyes, unsure of where to look. Astarion reached out and gently lifted your chin, so your eyes met once more. 

“And your smile,” he continued, “it’s like a radiant sunbeam on even the cloudiest day. It has the power to brighten my world in an instant.” 

“Ooh, that’s a good one,” Karlach said, fanning herself. “You’re even making me blush!” 

“Careful, we wouldn’t want you burning any hotter now,” Gale smiled, though it was strained. He looked almost as uncomfortable as you felt. 

“Your kindness,” Astarion went on, “it knows no bounds. You have a heart that’s more expansive than the ocean, and it’s a privilege to be the one you’ve chosen to share it with.” 

“Bah!” Lae’zel practically spat. “These nonsensical attempts at beguiling are a waste of time, why waste your energy talking when you can claim and dominate each other instead?” 

You were hard-pressed to agree with Lae’zel on this one. Well, except maybe for that last part. 

“Alright, you can stop now,” you said. 

“Not until you’re convinced,” Astarion replied, a sly smirk forming on his lips. “How about this? You are a masterpiece in a world of art,” The vampire flamboyantly declared, his gaze unwavering. “Your uniqueness, your quirks, your imperfections – they all make you the incredible person I fell in love with. You’re not just enough; you’re more than I ever dreamed of.” 

You roll your eyes. “Gods, you know you don’t have to keep practising the fancy fake flattery on me, right? I know it’s all like a big joke to you but enough is enough, eh?” 

Astarion finally pulls back and frowns at you, not in that puppy-pout way when he didn’t get what he wanted, but in a way that he looked genuinely offended. 

“You think I’m joking?” 

“I... uh,” you stutter, suddenly flustered.  

“My compliments aren’t fake, darling. Decorative, perhaps, but you do know I mean every word, don’t you?” 

“Pfft,” you try to wave him off nonchalantly, but your quivering voice betrays you. “No, you don’t. It’s... it’s all just a bit of fun, r-right?” 

“Perhaps I should be a bit blunter then,” Astarion said, leaning forward ever so slightly, his expression serious and scarlet eyes piercing into you. “You’re... beautiful.” 

You swear you could feel something just break inside you in that moment.

A tentative smile, like a fragile flower pushing through the cracks of self-doubt, graced your lips, but it wilted in the harsh light of scrutiny. A tight knot formed within your throat as everyone stared at you in anticipation. What were you supposed to say? Thank you? That you were grateful for the shower of compliments from Astarion, this... gorgeous man, because you sure as hell didn’t deserve them? 

“I’m a little tired,” you suddenly say, your chair scraping the floor with a shrill screech as you quickly stand up. “Excuse me.” 

Leaving their concerned calls behind you, you made your way up the stairs of the tavern and into the hallway leading to the rooms. The innkeeper had allocated them, but he’d neglected to say which one was which, so you merely picked the first door you could get your hands on. 

It wasn’t until you slammed the door shut and leaned your back against it that you realised that you picked the wrong bloody one. 

The room was large and luxurious, the centrepiece was an ornate, four-poster bed adorned with rich, crimson drapes that seemed to dance with the flickering candlelight and crisp, white linens, neatly turned down. An old, familiar skull-faced tome laid face up, its amethyst eyes staring ominously at the ceiling. 

It seemed that someone got first dibs on the rooms, and it didn’t take a genius to work out who. 

‘Shit,’ you curse to yourself, scrambling for the doorknob. ‘Maybe I can get out before he-’ 

As soon as you open the door, Astarion is already right there, his hand raised into a fist. 

“Knock-knock?” he says, giving you a tentative smile. 

“S-sorry, must have gotten a little mixed-up.” 

“That’s quite alright, dear,” his tone is too soft for your liking, as if he feared offending you in any way. 

“Right, well,” you strain a smile and edge around him to get to the hallway. “Goodnight.” 

“Wait,” he catches you by the arm. “Come back in, won’t you?” 

You squint at him suspiciously. 

“To talk, darling. Nothing else, not if you don’t want to.” 

Gods know that you wanted to, you were just... surprised that he did. 

As you re-enter the room, you notice a small, antique writing desk nestled by a leaded glass window. A vase of freshly picked wildflowers graced the wooden surface, infusing the room with their sweet fragrance. 

Astarion caught your stare. “Ah, unfortunately I have run out of perfume to mask my er... musk. So, I had to improvise.” 

“It’s nice,” you remark, the tight knot in your throat making it hard to speak. 

“Well, I should hope so. They are your favourite after all, are they not?” 

A surge of guilt jabbed through your chest, you had occasionally stopped on the road to admire the flowers; their colours, their scent was intoxicating to you. Had he been observing you even back then? 

You didn’t know what to say, words were always tempered by hesitation, their resonance dulled by the fear of judgment. Each sentence was punctuated by apologies, as if you believed your very existence owed the world an explanation. Confidence always remained just beyond your reach, an oasis in the desert of your own mind. 

Astarion sat on the bed and patted the empty spot next to him; you silently took the invitation. 

“I would like to... apologise for earlier. Making you uncomfortable was never my intent, I...” he paused, his eyes flickering over you. “I just wasn’t sure how much clearer I could make it to you.” 

“That you... like me?” 

“Like you?” Astarion took your hands and squeezed them. “I adore you. Everything about you, all that you do is... nothing short of breathtaking.” 

Tears welled in your eyes and spilled over your cheeks like the gentlest rain, your trembling shoulders burdened by the weight of your emotions 

“I’m sorry if you don’t hear this enough but... I wish to change that. You really are, truly, beautiful.” 

The tears flowed freely then, your sobs echoing in the stillness of the night. Astarion gathered you in his arms, a silent pillar of support. His hand, cool and reassuring, gently cradled your trembling one, his thumb grazing back and forth over your knuckles. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his words a gentle caress. “Let it out, darling.” 

Astarion’s presence felt like a sanctuary, a safe haven in the storm of emotions. He didn’t offer empty platitudes or rushed advice. Instead, he listened, letting you pour your bottled emotions out, allowing it to find solace in his quiet understanding. 

With each tear that fell, Astarion’s touch remained steady, unwavering. 

As the night wore on, you found yourself nestled into his side as you lay together on top of the covers, your head tucked into his shoulder while he stared up at the ceiling. He turns his head briefly to kiss your forehead, and in that sacred space, amid the tears and whispered sorrows, you found solace, strength, and perhaps the willingness to accept that, in your own way, you are beautiful. 

xxx

Links to my other Astarion works

Everything's Fine

Restless

Request - Astarion kills everyone in his path to get to you

Request - Astarion tries to rescue you from kidnappers