#;( did i add more angst than i should? maybe )

[volcre]

How did Rhaenyra feel after learning of Daemon’s marriage to Laena?

& SEND ME CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT QUESTIONS // ACCEPTING

let's do it. one 'fuck me up fam' to go.

Rhaenyra absolutely hates having her life dictated for her. she hates the rules and obligations and responsibilities, even more so when the DUTIES her parents have in mind for her is laying on her back and pushing for a couple of hours straight. that's not the kind of a future the Princess sees for herself. well, not just that. she yearns for more. she aches for freedom to be more. to become more than just a mother. more than just a womb for some power-hungry man who falls in love with the iron throne and not the woman he marries.

so what is the solution to avoiding such future? well, one might say that the solution could be to choose her own husband. the lesser of all evils in the candidates offered on a silver platter before her. but Rhaenyra unconsciously might be trying to take it a step further. she needs a man who does not ache for the throne, for the novelty of such a power within his reach. she needs someone who is well used to it, who will focus on her and not the crown. not wholeheartedly. and her gaze settles upon the Rogue Prince.

at first it might have been a way to get out of many ridiculous marriage proposals. she flirts, she teases, she taunts. she goes with him to the whorehouse and isn't afraid of following through with whatever he has planned for them. it is only his refusal that puts a stop to their evening and she feels betrayed. she feels cold. alone.

the Princess is nothing if not stubborn and spiteful. she yearns for revenge and she thinks that it just might be hers. they're at her supposed wedding. she's to marry another man and she taunts Daemon with it. makes him contemplate stabbing someone with a dinner knife. and then she offers him a solution - take her with him, make her his, marry her instead of letting this farce continue. she's right there, so easy to grab and leave with --- and once again her plan backfires.

( exhibit a , how daemon didn't get burnt to a crisp with her glare through this whole dance is beyond me )

Rhaenyra feels powerless as she watches Daemon and Laena dance. it feels like a slap to the face, a rude awakening. of course the handsome, powerful Prince would not want her. not when he's surrounding himself with beautiful women left and right. not when he has ladies such as Laena offering themselves to him. she's so full of womanly grace, something acquired through years of proper etiquette lessons and good genetics - something that Rhaenyra does not think she has. she's younger, she's barely grown up, of course she is not on the Prince's list of possible love interests. to watch them dance together, to see Daemon's attention pinned to Laena instead? it makes something inside of her shatter in ugly realisation that it could never be her.

from then on, as the drama continues, as her ridiculous wedding comes to fulfillment the Princess still wonders for a moment where Daemon had disappeared to. she wonders if maybe he will break down the door to the throne room and take her away. maybe there is still time. maybe he still could come.

and then that's it. she's a married woman. to a man, nonetheless, who does not want her any more than she wants him. a man who will become a dear friend and a wonderful companion but never more than that - tragically, a man who never even thirsted for the throne in the first place.

and then a raven comes from Pentos addressed to the King. such great news - "Prince Daemon and Lady Laena married under the customs of Driftmark"... such great, great news. and while her smile might be perfect enough to fool those around her, to let them think she joins their celebrations of the new union --- it is only Laenor that notices the cracks of her carefully crafted facade. only Laenor that holds her at night as she weeps her sorrow, tears staining yet another letter that brought news.

"Prince Daemon and Lady Laena are expecting their firstborn."

[hes-a-tough-kid]

If you see the final word count for my completed fic gently increasing over months and months no you dont

[yurunivo]

Hello! I'm not sure if i'm the one but can we get some more Mavuika x Creator! Reader (gender neutral) in which the creator is falling deeply in love with Mavuika and the creator is slowly getting his/hers/their memories back and awakening a little bit of power (like maybe aweking some unique element or getting better healing abilities) ?

I'm pretty sure you were the one yea. Sorry for not answering sooner I just had no motivation to write 😭

Synopsis: your time with Mavuika! (And "your" past) part 1 part 2 part 4

TW: slight angst, fluff, OOC, arguements, reader is referred to as they/them for easier use but gender is up to what you interpret as, bad writing, bad grammar, english is not my first language, slightly rushed at the end, not proofread

Characters: Mavuika x gn!creator!reader

"Please don't walk through the halls, our Archon is busy-"

"I just have a word with her, that's all."

The receptionist sighed as you glared at her and walked off. You've had a bad week, constantly getting excruciatingly painful headaches and nightmares which make you wake up in a cold sweat. What made it worse that you couldn't really remember them when you woke up, which made it all the more frustrating. That, along with the fact that your boss was giving you more work than usual was making you snappy and irritated all the time. The even more strange thing was the fact that you were seeking out Mavuika, almost as if she was a pinicle of warmth in a snowy wasteland, so you did eventually visit her.

As you reached her office door, gloved hands gently pushed it open to see her inside. Your eyes softened, and you could feel your stress slipping away. She was sleeping though, her head on a pile of documents.

"That's.. Strange. Normally she would spend a lot of time with me, did she ignore all this work just for me?" You thought to yourself. However, instead of peaking over, you decided to sit in a sofa next to her table.

Curiosity did get the better of you though.

You skipped over to her desk and found loads of papers from different nations, which was really strange considering Mavuika was more busy dealing with Natlan's problems. You picked up a few documents and read them, cringing at the insignia of the other nations.

As you kept reading, you got more confused, and certainly more angry.

"Death threats, intimidation and war threats to Natlan, and Sumeru is asking for an alliance? What the hell is going on?!" You exclaimed, not noticing how Mavuika woke up. As you were about to read more, she snatched the papers from you, and looked at you with an expression you couldn't read.

"You weren't supposed to see that."

"Well I did, too bad. Now mind explaining what the hell is this?"

She didn't answer, and you felt your patience running thin. You didn't want to raise your voice at her, but the frustration of her not telling you was too much to handle. Still, you managed to control yourself, taking deep breaths.

"I'm not going to repeat myself, what is this?"

She paused, and for a moment, she contemplated whether she would tell you or not. Guilt was on her face, yet she finally told you.

"The other nations want you back for whatever reason, and they are threatening to add more to Natlan's plate by instituting a war. Sumeru is offering to help, but that's the only consolation I have," she breathed out. Your eyes softened, and your lips trembled. Seeing Mavuika like this was making you feel negative, especially since it was about you.

You picked up her hand and held it gently, but it was also firm. You didn't know what you could really do to help, considering that you were the one that they were after.

"Listen Mavuika, I am your creator, so I should have the right to know about all this, no? I may not be strong, but it's not like I'm completely useless," you held her hand against your forehead, both of you looking away from each other.

Feeling the need to lighten her pile of work, you let her go for a moment, going up to her desk and setting up the documents. You didn't look at her, nor did she look at you.

"I'll help," you spoke up.

"You don't need to."

"I insist."

She sighed, yet reluctantly went up to you to do the same. She knew that you wouldn't really change your mind, so there was really no point in arguing any further.

For the past couple of weeks, you were there to help Mavuika. You were always at her beck and call, skipping your work to help with hers. The only thing you did however was confiscate useless documents, sign the ones that she couldn't, and carry piles of work to warehouses.

As you were walking through the place, whistling to yourself, you realized that you had just passed the place that you were supposed to be in. Noticing your mistake, you ran to that place in exasperation, not noticing how a gust of wind helped you to run faster..

"Why do I keep forgetting this shit?.." You rubbed your temples, setting the box down. Looking at all the shelves, you deadpanned at the realization that the shelves were much higher than you anticipated.

"I should've brought a ladder.." You mumbled.

Then suddenly, without any explanation, a pillar of Geo helped you up, slowly rising to the shelves. The revelation almost made you scream, but you kept it in. You were really high up, and the fact that you didn't know what was happening made it even more terrifying. Was this Zhongli's doing? To taunt you before he came to hunt you again? You couldn't really tell, the only thought running in your head was how the hell would you get down.

The even stranger thing that happened was that a gust of wind separated the boxes and placed the one that you brought without you needing to use your hands. It might've been the Anemo Archon, but the fact that if it was, he would probably not help you with anything. He would most likely make you fall instead, taunting you like Zhongli. But it didn't really make any sense. How the hell would they even reach you all the way from Natlan?

As the pillar mounted you down, you were about to run to reach Mavuika, but your temperature rose uncomfortably high, which was very unusual. The sudden change made you collapse onto the ground, golden blood seeping out of your nose. You felt yourself getting light headed as you struggled to keep yourself awake.

"Not now god dammit!" You exclaimed in your head as your vision turned blank, losing your consciousness.

....

Where were you?

You held your head, groaning at the painful sensation. You got a clearer look at your surroundings, notifying you that you weren't in Natlan. No, this place was nothing like Natlan. It was more regal, the entire place being covered by intricate gold designs. You explored the place for a bit, still trying to figure out what happened.

You walked around, then suddenly, you saw a projection in front of you. Okay, it at least confirmed that you were in a dream. But when the projection finished appearing, you saw someone whom you didn't expect to see.

It was... Nahida?

"Greetings your grace," she bowed, and you just told her to stand back up.

"Kusanali? What are you doing here?" You raised an eyebrow. Seriously today was one of the most craziest days of your life, more than when you realized that you were in the Genshin world.

"I have been trying to speak with you, your grace. It was very hard, I admit, and I may or may not have caused those nightmares, I am really sorry about that." Oh, so that's why these horrible dreams happened, and why you couldn't remember them. You smiled awkwardly, knowing that you would forgive her anyway. After all, she was the first to actually help you in this world.

"What did you need to speak with me for?" You asked.

"It's about the other nations, I want to inform you that they are currently on the hunt for you, and want you back into the position of creator," she answered, and now there were even more questions in your head. What was the strange switch up for?

"But I must ask your grace, is this what you really dream of, your throne room?" She pointed at the giant throne at the back, and you quickly went to answer.

"No, I don't dream about anything like this," you replied back in confusion. Right, was this supposed to be normal?

When you turned around to ask Nahida a question again, she was gone. Was she hiding? No, she was completely gone, you couldn't feel her presence any where, almost as if she was forced out of your dream.

You looked around more and more, only to realize that there was a carbon copy of you on the throne.

They looked exactly like you, except more regal, and more intimidating than what you could ever be. However, you did notice that they were... Crying? Tears were definitely spilling out of her eyes, yet their expression stayed the same.

Yea this was weird.

You looked around again to see the Archons behind you. You flinched at the sight, however, they weren't looking at you, rather they were looking at what you could assume to be the previous creator. Their expression was one of pity, and in almost half a second, they attacked the creator. Yet that "you" didn't move a muscle, allowing them to get a hit. As you stared at the throne, there was golden blood seeping out, yet the creator was as hard as stone.

They had sealed the creator.

....

You woke up with a gasp, feeling sweaty and uncomfortable. Looking at your hands, you saw they were trembling. Your throat felt dry, way too dry for your liking. As you reached out for the nearest liquid next to you, your hands landed on a cup of tea, which you picked up and drank immediately. You calmed down a bit, reminiscing on what you just experienced.

"So that's what happened, I wonder why.." You mumbled. You finally payed attention to where you were, and saw that you were back in Mavuika's office. Huh, you didn't remember being here last.

Finally paying attention to what was next to you, you saw a tray on a stool, and some food on it. The tea you drank just now was probably from that tray.

Your eyes wandered, and it stumbled upon Mavuika. She was on a chair too, yet she was sleeping, her arms crossed. As multiple ideas went through your head, it finally clicked.

"Was she taking care of me?" You thought, yet you were too much in a trance to wake her up and ask her. Your cheeks were flushed, and you felt them getting warmer.

You wondered what this feeling was, the way your heart started beating faster and how you felt all giddy inside.

"Ah whatever, I'll figure it out soon," you muttered, oblivious to your own feelings.

Sorry I didn't include the abilities part too much, I was more focused on the creator and Mavuika's relationship 😓

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。09:08 AM — GOJO SATORU.

contents. manga spoilers, satoru keeps the scars bc that’s character development ok, post canon, insecure! gojo / reverse comfort, you sit on his lap, ig angst to fluff, embarrassingly cheesy look away pls :,)

satoru, since he’s come home with those scars, has always evaded your hand. you’ve tried a few times, have reached out to cup those cheeks you miss holding—but he’s managed to grab your hand and kiss it every time.

it’s smooth—like everything else he does, satoru dodges your touch smoothly. with an easy grin. with a teasing glint. it’s slick and all too natural, and almost undetectable. but you know him better. you know him better than anyone has had the pleasure of knowing him, you like to think. and you know that satoru doesn’t let your hand meet his cheek, not even the edge of his jaw, on purpose.

“good morning,” you smile, reaching forward to lay a hand over his face. satoru, with his eyes still closed (as expected), grabs your hand and plants a soft kiss to the back as he hums.

you’re almost certain he can sense the way your lips tug into a frown.

“mornin’ sweetheart,” he says lowly, “watching me sleep? that’s a bit creepy,” he teases.

“i can’t help it,” you hum, “you’re too handsome.”

this is rare—giving satoru compliments easily is rare. usually, you make him work for them, keep him waiting on the tips of toes before finally giving him that praise you know will go straight to his inflated ego. but sometimes, like now, you think he deserves to hear it—unfiltered and raw and filled with truth.

satoru is handsome. always has been. always will be.

“aw,” he cracks an eye open, “maybe i should let myself get scratched up a bit more. maybe you’ll talk nice to me more often.”

“i mean it, toru,” you frown, insisting, “you’re handsome. so handsome.”

your hand reaches for his face again. he turns his head this time, feigning a yawn as he stretches before sitting up. there’s a slight bit of tension in the air now, his lips tighter in his smile as he hums before turning to you and poking your nose.

“well, aren’t you sweet,” he smiles almost bitterly.

you haven’t seen his smile reach his eyes for a while. he doesn’t meet your gaze through the mirror in the mornings as you brush your teeth together anymore, doesn’t wink at your reflection and make you roll your eyes. he doesn’t spam your camera roll with pictures of himself anymore when you’re in the bathroom, doesn’t leave you with those silly faces and smug grins that make good wallpapers. he doesn’t even crack those annoying jokes anymore, doesn’t whine for you to admit he’s the most handsome guy you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting as his face digs into your neck.

instead, satoru dodges your touch. he kisses you briefer these days, avoids looking in the mirror, smiles like he has to—not like he finds a reason to.

“you don’t believe me?” you ask gently, furrowing your brows, “you know i’d never lie to you.”

“i didn’t say that, did i?” he asks, waving a hand casually. “c’mon let’s go brush our teeth. you don’t wanna kill me with that morning breath do you—”

“satoru, you’re still handsome, you know,” you say gently. you decide to rip the bandaid off as you add, “even with these.”

for the first time, your hand manages to reach for his face without him pulling away. you think it’s more out of surprise than anything, that it’s because he wasn’t expecting you to be so straightforward instead of trying to be subtle like usual. for a second, you think he might just put his infinity up—but he doesn’t ever. not around you.

but you can see it, the way his knuckles twitch a little like he’s clenching them. the way he’s so still, it’s almost like he’s willing himself not to tense. the way he doesn’t even lean into your touch like he always does.

he doesn’t want your hand on his face, but you stroke a thumb over a scar anyway, cupping his cheek as you study his face up close.

it’s still him—still satoru with that sharp nose and those rosy cheeks, still satoru with those long lashes and perfect jawline. there’s rough, marred bits of skin that meet soft, supple ones. you feel over the dips of where each scar starts slowly, committing each one to memory.

they’re newer parts of him, ones you don’t know very well yet, ones that remind you of the ugliest parts of the world—but they’re a part of satoru now, and anything that’s a part of satoru can never be ugly. no matter where they come from, no matter what they’re a reminder of.

not if it’s him.

“you think so?” he asks with a tight grin, “is my money maker still money making?”

“don’t be greedy,” you quip, “you have plenty of money.” and then, softly, you add, “but i’d pay a good fortune or two to wake up to this every day.”

“good thing i give it to you for free,” he hums, “i’m generous, you know?”

“what a catch,” you grin, “generous, strong, rich,” you list, making an amused grin stretch across his lips, “handsome,” you add. his smile falters a bit at that. “satoru, i’m serious.”

“oh, i love when you get all serious,” he whistles. he’s deflecting—you expect him to, but you’re not backing down. one leg swings over his hips, and then you’re climbing onto his lap, right there where he can’t avoid you. but he finds his attention to your lips, still smooth as ever as he avoids meeting your eyes.

“satoru—”

“oh? you want to do this already? it’s barely—” he makes a show of glancing at the clock before turning back to you with a suggestive grin, “—nine am. but i guess we can have a little fun before—”

“i don’t care about these, you know,” you murmur, pulling your head back when he leans in for a kiss. your finger lightly traces the scar by his left cheekbone, making him frown.

“see? you’re basically admitting you have to look past them,” he groans frustratedly—it’s the first time satoru’s acknowledges his scars. it’s the first time he’s finally let himself look upset without trying to hide it behind a forced grin and a dry chuckle.

“i don’t,” you frown, “sure, they’re new,” you admit softly, “and i don’t like being reminded you got hurt. but they’re not ugly—you’re always pretty.”

“there’s so many,” he mumbles, “they’re everywhere.”

“i think they’re cool,” you shrug, “they make you look tougher. less like a spoiled princess.”

“hey,” he pouts, “i’m not spoiled.”

“you’re a bit spoiled,” you chuckle, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck—his lips quirk up, and you can’t help but notice how real it looks for once. “but i suppose you deserve it. not because you’re handsome though. because you deserve good things—just for being you,” you insist.

his lips are quivering a bit, and he’s blinking faster now. you ignore it, though, taking your sweet time as you lean down and kiss along the edges of every scar on his face, tracing your lips along where the old skin meets new.

“that’s cheesy,” he mutters, “now you sound like a therapist.”

“i mean it,” you say firmly, “and i meant it when i said you’re handsome too.“

“handsomest guy you’ve ever met, right?” he bats his lashes—they’re a bit hopeful, though, and you smile as you gently kiss the corner of his mouth before nodding.

“definitely,” you nod, “you’re the prettiest.”

“am i?” he grins, “now i’m more spoiled. who’s fault is that really?”

“i’ll allow it for today,” you snort, “today you can be spoiled. i’ll humble you tomorrow.”

“we’ll see,” he hums.

your hands cup his cheeks as you lean down for a kiss, and satoru’s hands clasp over them gently, holding them in place—and when you kiss him delicately, like the sun meets the moon as your lips touch, like your world revolves around him as you pull him closer, you think satoru is unfairly handsome.

and you’ll have to remind him that a bit more often.

he’s my liddol sourpatch :(

[bountydroid]

Jealousy

Request: Can I please request a Cooper x Fem reader comfort angst romance where the sweet reader is infatuated with Cooper (she has a thing for older men)The sweet reader is always doing unnecessary favors for him, like secretly giving him discounts on rad away and supplies, taking care of dog meat, and getting him information on bounties. Until he brings along Lucy, misunderstanding the whole situation, the reader’s heart breaks thinking the worst and slowly stops trying and acting cold and distant, making Cooper notice that the only tolerable person he has ever known in this god forsaken world is ignoring him. (Feel free to add or change anything just pls feed into my delusions😭 I just want some hardcore romance with our cowboy) Also can u pls add that the reader also has a cute southern accent?

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader

Description: As a wandering trader, you've made a lot of strange friends. Among them, Ghouls, but there is one in particular that is your favorite.

Notes: I hope I did this justice for you anon!

The Wasteland was brutal, and even you knew it was a bad idea to trek it alone, but you had a job to do. However, as you found yourself in front of your old friend Roger's home you felt like the Wastelands weren't all that bad.

"My name.. is Roger." You heard him repeating between snarls.

You stopped in your tracks outside the door. "He's turning," You thought to yourself as you rummaged through your pack looking for any vials of Radaway. You were all out. Sighing, you put your hand on your holster before slowly making your way inside to check on your friend.

"Rog?" You ask as you round the corner to find him sitting in the dirt.

"Oh hey," he said relieved. "My savior. Do you have any vials"

"I don't have any, Rog." You replied sadly.

"Oh." He whispered. "You should probably get out of here then. It's not safe for little girls like you to be in the Wastelands alone." He said sadly, leaving out the bit you both knew, you weren't safe with HIM alone. 

Before you could respond, you heard quiet footsteps down the corridor. "Who else is here?" You thought to yourself as your hand went back to your holster. Peaking your head around the corner you find none other than Cooper Howard and... a vaultie? You did very little to hide the confusion on your face as you looked between the two.

"Hey, you." You said to Cooper. "What are you doing here?"

"Could ask you the same thing, sweetheart." He responds, pushing the vaultie through the doorway and making his way to Roger.

"Hey Rog," Cooper greets him.

"Hey. Hey." Rogers laughs, relieved to see his friend. "Fancy seeing you here. You out for that bounty, too, huh?"

"Yep," Cooper responds as he knelt in front of his friend.

You all stand there in silence for a bit, listening to Roger snarl and whip his head around. 

"Oh, shit," Roger says between wails.

"How you feeling?" Cooper asks quietly, already knowing the answer.

"Oh.. you know," Roger replied. "It's hard out here. Dang smoothies can be so unkind. I see you got a smoothie of your own." He says as he looks over at the vaultie.

You also turn to look at the vaultie, a look of displeasure on your face. "A smoothie of your own." Repeating over and over in your head. You wanted to be his smoothie. You and Cooper never really started a relationship, but you thought you were heading in that direction. You gave him a generous discount on Radaway since you developed a little crush on him, and he would always spend more time than necessary with you whenever you crossed paths. He was always fussing after you and was always telling you how you were too reckless. In his eyes, everything was too dangerous for you. He knew how you felt about him, and you THOUGHT you knew how he felt about you, but this vaultie threw a wrench in everything. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he doesn't like me." You thought to yourself while eyeing her up. You were so lost in thought that you could barely hear Roger snarling next to you. 

"You're turning," Cooper says reluctantly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.

"Yeah maybe, maybe." Roger says on the verge of tears, "Maybe. Hey, you don't happen to have any vials, do you? Y/n is all out."

Cooper's eyes met yours as you nodded your head sadly.

"Just one little puff and I'll be back on my feet. You know I'm good for it." Roger pleaded.

"I'm sorry Roger I am all out," Cooper says, looking back toward his friend.

"That's okay. That's okay." Roger mumbles. "Though, um, you and y/n and your smooth-faced friend, you um... you might want to clear out before things get ugly."

You flinch as you hear Roger snarl again, each time he was getting louder and louder. You look down at your feet with tears in your eyes.

"I did okay. 28 years since I first started showing," Roger said looking between you and Cooper, before snarling again. "Oh, hell! Not as long as you though." He pointed proudly at Cooper, "You've outlasted us all. How long since you first started Wastelanding?"

"A long time," Cooper responds while shaking his head.

"That's a lot of vials," Roger said quietly.

"Well I've always been good at making money, Roger." Cooper exhales as he stands up. "Say, you remember how good food used to taste?"

"Yeah, BlamCo Mac and Cheese!" Roger says excitedly.

"Ice Cream and Apple Pie." Cooper countered.

Roger laughed, a real laugh. He was happy. "Apple Pie is not nearly as sweet as young Y/n's southern accent though." He says smiling up at you. "You know, my mom used to -"

Before you knew what happened, Roger's brains were all over the wall. You looked up at Cooper with tears in your eyes. You knew it had to be done. You knew it was mercy, but it still hurt. 

"Why did you do that?" The vaultie asked. "He was sick."

"He wasn't gonna get better." You responded dryly.

"You usually don't go all the way out here sweetheart, not on your own. What are you up to?" Cooper asks you as he picks up Roger's body and places it in a position where he easily access what he needs.

You don't respond. Between the jealousy brewing in your stomach at the vaultie next to you and the sadness about Roger, you couldn't find the words you wanted to say. 

"Stop. Stop Stop." The vaultie pleaded, "Please, I know it's hard out here but you don't, you don't have, you don't have to resort to... to..."

Before he could respond you quickly made your way out of the building for some fresh air. You could hear their voices inside, but you decided to drown them out by humming to yourself. You didn't need to see him take apart Roger, and you definitely couldn't stand the sound of her voice any longer. You knew you should get walking, you were low on supplies and they would be leaving the building soon. You didn't want to face them again, but it felt like there were bricks in your boots. As exhaustion hit you, you sat down in the sand and closed your eyes, losing track of time.

"Hey," You hear Cooper say as he puts his hand on your shoulder. "You good, sweetheart?"

'Fine." You mumbled out. "You and your smoothie should get going." The venom in your voice was loud and clear, but you didn't care.

"That's what got ya panties in a bunch?" Cooper laughed. 

You glared up at him in response. "Don't laugh at me, Cooper."

"I am taking her to SuperDuperMart. Not keepin’ her as a pet.” Cooper smiles as he offers you his hand. 

"Oh," You responded quietly, feeling stupid.

"What is SuperDuperMart?" You heard the vaultie ask, but the two of you completely ignored her.

"No one could ever replace you, sweetheart," Cooper says as he cups your face. 

You couldn't help the smile that graced your face at his words, and the blush that creeped up your neck.

He smiled when he noticed the way your eyes flickered towards his lips. 

"When I get my hands on some Radaway, I'll show you just how much you mean to me." You whispered.

"Lookin' forward to it." He whispered back.

The two of you were so caught up in each other that you didn't even notice the look of pure disgust on the vaultie's face as she watched your interaction. Some people may never understand why you like Cooper so much, but honestly? You couldn't give a damn.

Tag list: @sitkafay

[parfaitblogs]

bad idea right? ❀ s. reid x reader

in which hooking up with your ex is probably not a good idea... right?

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: angst/smut (18+ mdni) tags: porn with plot. reader's mentioned wearing a dress. fingering. kind of fade to black p in v. i think im incapable of writing no d/s dynamics so soft dom!spencer my beloved. i don't mention protection but he wrapped it just trust me guys. really awful decisions are made.  word count: 3.9k a/n: i know i KNOW i said im writing fluffy smut but i simply cannot help myself... anyways this has been in the works for far too long (months...) but i have a lot of ideas for this dynamic/pairing so if we want more pls tell me 💗💘💕💕💗 i will do it!!! maybe im already doing it!!!!!💗💘💗💘💓don't fuck ur exes and thank u again for 1k ily

"Hey."

There was a beat. Then another. By the third beat your heart had started stuttering in your chest and your adrenaline-induced activities had caught up to your brain. You were slowly sinking into yourself under his gaze, that probably wasn't scrutinising, but definitely felt that way. Regret pooling in your stomach because yes, this was an absolutely awful idea, and he had clocked it within the twenty minutes it took for you to get here after his last text. 

His last text that did technically say you shouldn't come over, but if you did he wouldn't leave you stranded out in the hall. Such a gentleman, you had thought.

"I said you shouldn't come," he chastised, and your legs wobbled beneath the weight of your regret. 

"You also said I could—"

"—As a courtesy," his voice was firmer than you remembered him ever being, and your heart stuttered uncomfortably in your chest at the sound of it. 

"Well don't add courtesy messages if you don't want me to take them seriously," you retorted, and your arms crossed over your chest. 

He was silent for a few moments, gears turning behind his eyes, deciding if he should send you home or let you in. Then, he was stepping back, and gesturing for you to come inside — and you were.

Admittedly, six months was a long time. Being here at all is risky, and there was that fear of there being a girl sitting curled up on his couch, watching an episode of something Spencer had bribed her to watch. And maybe if you were any more sane, you would not be carefully analysing every inch of his apartment. Searching for — and expecting there to be — someone residing in spaces you had once found comfort in. 

But; no one. Then you decided that thought was stupid, because Spencer Reid was not (stupid), and he wouldn't have asked you to come to his apartment if there was a girl there. 

"Why are you dressed up?" he asked you, eyeing the dress you had on, even as he brushed past you to head into his kitchen. 

"Had a party," you replied, clasping your hands behind your back, watching him walk around his apartment with so much ease. Maybe this was only awkward for you.

"Is that why you messaged me?"

"No. No. I didn't drink," you quickly said, shaking your head, immediately clocking where his own thoughts had wandered off to. 

He nodded his head, leaning against his kitchen counter, rubbing his palms together as he studied the marble countertop, seemingly needing to find his words. "Then why did you?"

Your lips parted, silence settling between you two for a few moments longer, unsure if your internal turmoil from the night you had been having should be something for his ears or not. 

You decided it was. "Everyone's in relationships. And all their partner's were there with them at the party."

"And you were alone."

"Yeah."

He slowly nodded his head, his gaze settling on you again. "You were lonely."

Your shoulders shrugged, your own eyes dropping to the floor as embarrassment crept up your spine uncomfortably. "I missed you."

"Don't."

"What? Miss you?" 

"Yes," he said, voice strained enough for your stomach to flip. "That isn't fair."

"I know."

"You're the one who ended things."

"I know."

He was silent then, his hands dragging down his face, pausing to dig the pads of his index fingers into his eye sockets. He sighed, his arms dropping by his side heavily, eyes returning to you. Again. 

"You can't do this," he grew firmer, the sudden tone of voice causing an uncomfortable dull ache to form in your chest. 

"Do what?" you asked, quietly. 

"Come see me every time you feel lonely."

"I don't come see you every time I feel lonely."

He bore holes into your face, eyes meticulously committing features to memory, before he straightened his shoulders, exhaling through his nose. "Don't make this a habit."

"It won't," you said, quickly, a promise you both knew you couldn't make truthfully.

Hesitantly, he nodded his head towards his couch, and despite the blaring alarm in your brain telling you to just go home and forget about it, your feet carried you over to it. Sinking into the plush of black leather you had sat so many times before, the fabric cold against your legs.

His face softened involuntarily, staring at you, heart achingly vulnerable and small, tucked into the corner of his couch. It almost made it easy to forget the past six months and everything leading up to the breakup. Almost. 

He stayed standing, as a power move or because he was simply awkward, you didn't know anymore. The man you were currently sharing air with did not seem the same as he had half a year prior. That hurt. 

Sitting up straighter, you clasped your hands in your lap, fixating your gaze on the coffee table in front of you. "I'm sorry."

He didn't respond for a moment, seemingly caught off guard by your sudden apology. Then, feet shuffling that indicated he was walking away from the couch, and your heart sank to your stomach. 

"For what?" he asked, his voice gruffer than he had intended. 

Your breath hitched. "Breaking up with you, I guess."

Too many memories filled your mind from what had happened, and you felt the guilt you had suppressed for months crawl its way back up your spine. 

"And you think sorry can make it all okay?" his voice had a hint of bitterness in it, and you couldn't even blame him for it. 

"No. Obviously not," you said, shifting on the couch to turn your head to look at him, fixating on him as he attempted to busy himself with rearranging the books on his desk. "Can you come here, please?"

His movements paused, and he lifted his gaze to you. There was a silent battle between your eyes, before you inevitably won, and he nodded, letting go of the hardback book he was moving and instead walking over to you on the couch. 

"I feel awful. For the way I left," you told him when he found residence on the other end of the couch, the distance technically small, but to you, seemingly massive. 

"You didn't seem upset when you left."

"I was. Please believe me."

He was no longer looking at you, but you were at him, and there was a disapproving expression on his face that told you he simply didn't, despite the quiet, "Okay," that fell from his lips. 

Unsure of what else to say, you let the silence encase you, instead flickering your eyes around the apartment, attempting to pick out minuscule changes he had made since you'd moved out. Nothing insane jumped out to you, other than the lack of your presence. There no longer being a collection of your own books on his bookshelf, brightly coloured trinkets not cluttering the kitchen countertop anymore. Which was fine. Even the items you had left here unknowingly, you hadn't expected to still be residing in his apartment. 

When your gaze settled back on him, you found him staring at you already. Your lips pulled into a small frown, while his parted, breath catching as if about to say something, then stopping. 

"You look pretty," he settled on telling you. And if you were any more stable, maybe your heart wouldn't have flipped in your chest. 

"Thank you," you mumbled, feeling your cheeks burn slightly. 

Despite the fluster such a simple compliment brought you, you couldn't look away. And it seemed neither could he. Staring at each other for ticking minutes, until you were finally breaking the brick wall of tension and standing up. 

"I shouldn't have come," you told him. "You were right."

"I should agree with you," he replied, watching your every movement. Even as you halted your beeline towards his door, confusion creeping up your spine. He had noticed it. 

You turned back to him. "But you don't."

"No. I don't," he agreed. "We ended abruptly."

"I left."

"Yeah."

It had been a huge misunderstanding, in the grand scheme of it all. A misunderstanding you had logically worked out after a week of dwelling on it all, but then had far too much pride to reach out to him again. Instead, allowing the remnants of your relationship to rot away in the back of your mind, never to be touched again. 

Until you were violently reminded just how much you had thrown away that night in a room full of happy people. 

Letting your shoulders soften, you trudged back over to him, standing rather awkwardly in front of him on the couch. Not that it felt awkward. You decided awkwardness was impossible when Spencer Reid stared at you like you were the sun materialised in his living room — the same way he had when you were still with him. And after six months of not seeing him, and an entire awkward conversation later, you finally wondered if anything had actually changed at all.

How you felt about him certainly hadn't. Eyes fixated on him like he was going to disappear if you even twitched, and you had the fleeting thought of kissing him. Which then turned into a recurring thought, until you were actively fighting the thought because this was not your boyfriend and kissing him was quite possibly the worst thing you could ever do. 

But God, did you want to. 

"I resented you for a long time."

You ignored the guilt eating away at your heart, and the hurt that settled in your stomach. You deserved his resent. 

"You don't anymore?" you asked, voice choked up from the thick ball of a sob caught in your throat. 

"No," he shook his head. "I don't know what I feel anymore."

You nodded your own head wordlessly. "That's fair."

He exhaled sharply, and his fingers pressed into the inner corners of his eyes. "You shouldn't be here."

"So you've said."

"No, I mean—" he cut himself off, lifting his gaze back to you. "I have things I want to do, that I will regret."

"With me?" You already knew the answer. 

"Yes," he confirmed anyways. "And we shouldn't."

"We definitely shouldn't," you agreed. 

He stood, dropping his hands by his sides, and you feared for a moment he was going to kick you out, just for the sake of his own sanity. Maybe it would be better for the both of you if he did that. 

He didn't. 

Instead, you learned quite quickly that he was battling the same internal conflict you were. And maybe he was attempting to ignore it; same as you. Maybe he had lost that war and that was why he was acting on those terrifying impulses. 

"I want to kiss you."

You were mostly shocked the words hadn't come from you. But by the time you had registered that fact, you had also registered you were nodding in agreement, followed by your consent, and he then was kissing you. 

And it was like no time had passed at all. 

His lips on your own were as desperate as you remember — even in the quieter mornings he would kiss you like you'd disintegrate beneath him, never to be seen again. And, with matching his desperation, you found his knees buckling as they hit the edge of the couch, and he was coaxing you down onto it with gentle hands on your hips. 

Abiding his physical request, your knees dug into the cushions, on either side of his body, and he was stuttering through breaths, lips detaching from your own. Your protests about it died on your tongue quickly as he kissed down your jaw and over the skin of your neck — delicately, for he had always been keenly aware of how sensitive the vessels and nerves in your neck were. 

"You definitely haven't drank tonight?" he mumbled against your skin once his lips had reached the top edge of your dress.

"No," you confirmed with a shake of your head, and he let out what seemed like a sigh of relief — you didn't know if feeding into that idea was good for you mentally or not. 

His fingers trailed up the length of your spine, your back arching on impulse as goosebumps arose on your skin. Tender hands found the thin straps of your dress, and his head lifted to look at you again. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah," you breathed out, content flooding over you as he did as he had intended, and you were slipping your arms out of the straps of your dress.

"This is such a bad idea," he mumbled, and all you could do was hum in agreement, for he was still pressing kisses along your skin down past your collarbone. 

Maybe it was the lingering thought that you shouldn't be doing this that egged you on. The knowledge that your friends would probably consider a violent end for you (and him) once they found out. That this was bad, and you were going to regret it the second it was over. 

His hands dropped back to your hips, and you searched for his lips again with your own, kissing him once more. Your dress bunched at your waist with help from Spencer, and hands that grappled at your ass tugged you impossibly closer. 

"Are you actually going to hookup with me on your couch?" you murmured against his lips. 

"Where would you prefer us to be?" he asked you, tilting his head back so he could see you once more. 

"Your bed."

If he disagreed with your suggestion, he hid it behind a nod, tapping your thighs so you could climb off of him. Which, you did, leading him towards his own bedroom, similarly to all the ways you had done it before. He tried not to dwell on that. 

"Have you been with anyone since we broke up?" 

Your voice was filled with an insecurity you wished to burn as you climbed onto the bed. The sheets so familiar you felt like crying. 

"Do you really want the answer to that question?" he asked, positioning himself over you, fingers placed at your waist.

"No," you decided, a response he knew you'd reply with. "But I guess that is an answer within itself."

"I guess," he agreed, head ducking back down to kiss over your shoulders and collarbones. 

"Were they good?"

"I'm not answering that."

"So they were."

He said your name, chidingly, nipping at your skin. "If you want to do this, I need your focus to be here. Not the other people I've had sex with."

"Okay. Sorry."

He only hummed as a response, the hand on your waist dropping past your hips, gently parting your legs and running his fingers up the skin of your inner thigh. 

Everything he did felt hauntingly familiar, and easy. As if the past six months had been nothing more than a bad dream, and the man who was above you, pulling your underwear down your legs and hiking your dress up to your waist, had done this twice in the past week already. 

You'd resonate in that fantasy for as long as you could. 

You squirmed as he brushed a finger through your folds, and he smiled, his mind no doubt reminding him of all the times you had done that before.

"Take your time," you muttered, bitterly, as he repeated the gentle ministration a few more times. 

"I will," he bit back, though the amusement in his eyes as he met your gaze again told you he was similarly as impatient. "I'm just figuring out what makes you feel good."

"You've forgotten?"

"No," he shook his head, the word flying off his tongue as he circled your clit with his finger, with a frustrating expertise. "I'm reminding myself."

"I like being kissed."

He laughed, quietly. Your heart warmed in your chest, while his lips brushed delicately against yours once more. "Thank you for the reminder."

"Of course," you said, and he was then swallowing a moan as he kissed you, pushing a finger into you at the same time. 

His eyebrows knitted together, something you only make out because his lips have tugged into a frown and you were pulling back to peer at him — only to be coaxed back into a kiss by his searching lips. You decided not to ask why he's confused. Or concerned. Or whatever the expression he was making was for. 

"Spencer," you breathed out when he had kept his finger still for too long (in your opinion), and he's quick to mumble an apology and start thrusting his finger. 

Whether he was more conscious of the sounds you were making, or simply just wanted to kiss you, you didn't know. But his lips stayed connected to yours as he fingered you in practiced motions, that you were focussing so closely on. Perhaps too closely, for he was nipping your lower lip when you had stopped actively kissing him back. 

"Is your distraction an indicator of something good? Or do I need to work harder?" he asked you, lifting his head to watch you squirm as he added another finger. 

"No, it's something good. It feels good," you reassured him.

The heel of his palm grazed over your clit, and you whined. So, he did it again. You moaned louder. He curled his fingers inside of you, and you moaned at how overwhelming it all was. He might have slept with more people in between, but you certainly hadn't, and it was becoming all too much, all too quick. 

You were acutely aware of the movement of his own hips on the bed beside you, your lips tugging up in amusement at the desperation he was displaying. Comforted by the fact that you were not alone. 

A particular brush of his fingers upon that spot inside of you cut off your thoughts, and you gasped, jerking your head away. At that, he did it again. And again.

"Spencer—Spencer," you whimpered, brokenly, grappling for any semblance of control over yourself. 

"Mm?"

"I'm gonna come," you told him. An honest mistake, because he was now pulling his fingers out of you, despite your quick protests. "No—what the fuck?"

"Shh," he said through a smile, kissing you to quieten your loud objections. "I want to come with you. Is that okay, honey?"

Oh.

Overwhelmed with a sudden shyness, you nodded your head, cheeks warming, and any opposing words dying on your tongue. "Yes. It is."

In an all too quick motion, he went from fully clothed above you, to fully naked and beside you, you having discarded of your own dress at the same time. Absentmindedly, because you were a little too focused on  what it was you were actually doing, brain running rampant about how awful of an idea it was. 

But then he was shifting your legs open, hand running up and down the skin of your thighs as he positioned himself at your entrance, and you were forgetting all about it. 

In a slow, languorous thrust, he pushed himself inside of you, a low hiss leaving his lips as he stilled, your own eyes fluttering shut, hands balling into fists. 

"This, I forgot," he breathed out, and you felt his hair tickle your shoulder as he rested his head against it. 

"You have an eidetic memory."

"Not for touch. Not like this," he explained, voice strained. "Sorry, sweet girl. Give me a minute."

The pet name had your heart fluttering, and you felt tears sting your vision as the violent reminder that this will never happen again flashed in your mind. You willed that thought away, trying to focus on the feeling of him inside of you, and how good it was in the moment. 

"It's been like twenty," you grumbled, pushing your hips back against his, and a choked laugh left his lips. 

"Seconds, maybe," he answered, a hand dropping to your hips. To still them or ground himself, you didn't know. "Exercise patience, please."

"Forgive me, but you did just stop me from coming."

He bit your shoulder. "Exercise manners too, while you're at it."

At that, you inhaled, before saying in an awfully sweet voice, "Can you please fuck me, Spencer?"

"Was that so hard?"

"Fuck off."

"After I make you come, I will," he answered, tone of voice unbearably innocent. 

A stark contrast to the drag of his hips out of you, and the sharp thrust back in (just to punctuate his point, of course). At its unexpectedness, you gasped, voice cracking and heart somersaulting. 

Every thrust into you was a constant reminder of what you had given up. What you had lost. A string of moans from you so achingly familiar to his ears, and heavy breaths from him making you want to never let this end. 

He was everything, and perhaps your hands were an inch too small to hold all of him. 

As quickly as it had all began, it was over, and you were left in the centre of his mattress, staring up at a ceiling you had intricately dissected with your eyes many times before. 

He had disappeared to his bathroom, assumedly to get clothes for himself, and hopefully something for you and your walk of shame you were no doubt doing in less than thirty minutes time. 

There was a growing sick feeling in your stomach you could at least identify to be anxiety, paired with the gross feeling of regret for your actions. You were never meant to see him again, despite what your heart had wanted. You forced yourself to be an adult about this, to cut him off. Your friends had pathetically changed his contact name to don't answer on a night out for their own personalised reminder of what talking to him would ensue. Why didn't you fucking listen?

He returned from the bathroom, a pile of clothes you had forgotten you'd ever even left here in his hands. You wiped the sides of your face with the backs of your hands, fluttering your eyelids to cut off anymore tears, sitting up.

"You should probably go," he said. If there was anything left of your heart to shatter, he just did.

"You're kicking me out so soon?" you asked him, failing at keeping your tone of voice light. When he hesitated in a response, you discovered why you no longer let your heart speak for you. You cracked a small smile, shook your head, and muttered, "Kidding." 

He didn't need to know you were subconsciously begging him to let you stay.

You stood, albeit on shaking legs, and took the clothes he was offering you. Pulling them on under such a watchful gaze was almost embarrassing, even as he busied himself with stripping the sheets from his bed to avert his attention. He was still keeping note of your presence in his space. 

"I—um, bye, Spencer," you stammered, throat closing up with every passing minute. 

He looked back at you. "I'll see you out."

"No," you were quick to deny him. "It's okay, I know where the door is. I'll see you around. Maybe. Probably not." Stop talking.

"Yeah. Maybe," he agreed with no real sincerity. "Goodbye."

"Bye," you said, again, hesitating to leave behind the remnants of an even more destroyed relationship. 

Though, you had to.

And as you left, you discovered that yes. Everything between you two had changed.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[awearywritersworld]

tell me you don't want me

gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo adds falling in love with his dead best friend's little sister to the list of things that keep him up at night w/c: 1.8k tags/warnings: angst to fluff. gojo takes care of reader when they have a migraine. they watch shark week together, so shark haters beware. arguing, but nothing super harsh. protective!gojo. reader is referred to as a sister but there are no pronouns. gojo is around 27, reader 23. curse words. no out right smut, but a heavily suggestive ending so lets say 18+ a/n: i've been writing purely fluff for gojo, so it seems about time to return to my angst/fluff roots. today's epi made me had me feeling some type of way. may write a part two to this? idk lemme know what you think! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

after you arrived at jujutsu high as a first year, everyone wore the same expression when they looked at you, their eyes full of pity and apprehension. you really couldn't blame them though. after what happened with suguru, you were left a shell of yourself, paranoid that you were destined to the same fate as your older brother.

however, the boy that suguru called his best friend held something different in his gaze whenever his eyes fell on you. understanding, maybe? gojo knew that if there was anyone in the world who missed suguru as much as he did, it had to be you.

for most of the year, the two of you really only talked in passing, dancing around a discussion neither of you were brave enough to initiate. then your brother's birthday rolled around and you found yourself drenched in rain, sneaking into the boys' dormitory to knock on gojo satoru's door.

he wasn't surprised to find you standing there.

"that idiot always refused to let me celebrate his birthday," you blurted out, damp hair sticking to your forehead.

he laughed. it was just a breath, but it was still genuine. "right? he couldn't stand being fussed over for one day."

and as you both stood there, rain pattering against the window, you felt months of unspoken tension melt away. "well, come in. i bought cake."

after that day, gojo took on the roll of your older brother and he really leaned into it. flicking your forehead to annoy you, threatening anyone he thought had a crush on you, giving you advice whenever he deemed you needed it.

you weren't sure if he was aware, even after all these years, that he'd saved you— pulled you away from the brink. you became like the little sister he never had, while he tried his best to fill the hole suguru had left in your heart.

gojo spends more time in your apartment than his own, so it's no surprise when he barges in one afternoon, singing out your name (rather terribly, one might add).

"i have a migraine, 'toru," you groan from the couch, pulling the blanket up over your head as the bright light from behind his figure worsens your discomfort. all of your blinds are shut, the curtains pulled together. "can you please close the door?"

he hums, stepping inside and pulling the door shut quietly. "you seem to be getting them a lot lately."

"probably because i spend so much time with you," you whine facetiously.

he gasps, hand clutching at his heart. "i come all the way here to visit you, only to be ridiculed. my devastation is untellable."

after grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet, he pads over to the kitchen sink. you peer at him from under the blanket as he runs it under cold water, noting how the veins in his forearms become more prominent once he wrings it out.

you're laying across the entirety of the couch, but you scoot away from the edge and he situates himself in the space beside your hip, his body facing you. the corner of his mouth is turned down, evidence of the worry swirling in his chest. he presses the back of his fingers to your forehead before folding the cloth neatly and laying it there.

"you should mention the migraines to shoko," he suggests earnestly.

"they just flare up sometimes, you know that. it's really not a big deal."

"yeah, maybe.. but i still worry about you."

you can't help but notice how close he is and while it feels casual, it also feels... intimate? the cold cloth does bring some relief to your head, though you'd have preferred it if his hand had remained there instead.

"have you eaten?" he questions after a moment, pulling you from your thoughts.

"not yet."

"then i'll go pick up some food," he offers, rising to his feet. "do you need anything else-"

"no," you say a little too quickly, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. "i mean.. can you just stay?"

he suddenly looks very smug. "oh, what's this? are you sure spending more time with me won't make your head feel worse?"

you attempt to roll your eyes but the movement sends a sharp pain through your skull, causing you to grumble. "don't make me hurt you satoru. i was joking."

"i know," he smirks, decently self satisfied. "but you do have to eat, so-"

"there's leftover egg drop in the fridge, can you just warm that up for me please?"

"'course! anything for you, (y/n)-chan!"

his tone makes it sound as if he's teasing you, but he knows it's the truth. he's painfully aware that there isn't a thing you could ask of him that he'd deny. he tries not to think about that though, because he can't bring himself to admit what it all means.

once your soup is ready, he joins you on the couch. you move to sit up and while that makes plenty of room for him, he still lifts your legs, sitting so that they lay across his lap. one of his hands is resting on your shin, the other on your knee.

"shark week?" he suggests as you reach for the remote.

you nod eagerly. "yes."

the two of you have never fought before.

well, maybe that's not entirely true. it isn't uncommon for the both of you to argue over video games, the latest chapter of a manga, or other things of that nature. but you and gojo have never had a genuine disagreement.

that is, until you mention wanting to challenge a decision made by the higher ups. he's well aware of how they deal with people they deem troublesome, so he can't help the vexation that bubbles up in his chest at your words.

"absolutely not," he tells you. his voice is low, not one hint of amusement to be found.

the tone leaves you narrowing your eyes, and you sound a bit misbelieving when you ask, "what do you mean 'absolutely not'?"

after everything that happened with geto, the higher ups have been wary of you. honestly, they're probably just looking for an excuse to pull another stunt like the detention center and he can't risk that. he can't risk losing you.

rather than express any part of that sentiment, however, he just goes all stone faced and vague. it's weird, so naturally it's followed by a bit of back and forth that goes nowhere, the conversation growing unreasonably volatile with each passing second.

why can't you just listen to him? why can't you give him the benefit of the doubt? he's earned that by now, hasn't he?

"i don't understand!" you hiss, your chest heaving with indignation. "why are you acting like this?"

because i love you. because i need you. because you mean more to me than everything else in this world put together.

he can't possibly say that though.. can't lay his shame bare for you to see.. can't bring himself to admit the feelings he has for you.

he's in love with dead best friend's little sister and it's wrong. it keeps him up at night. claws away at his self respect.

"i'll take care of it," he promises, sounding a bit defeated. "just please stay out of it."

"quit treating me like i'm a child, satoru. you're not my father."

your assertion makes the air in the room shift, and the feeling that forms in the pit of gojo's stomach is not unlike a cord being pulled too taut before snapping.

"so what am i then, huh? what am i to you?" he interrogates, taking a step toward you.

his eyes burn with intensity and the conviction in his voice is dizzying, especially since it's meant only for you. he immediately notices the way you stiffen, suddenly unable to meet his eye.

he swallows thickly, any restraint he has left ebbing away once he hears your small, nervous voice. "'toru, w... what do you-"

you're cut off when he takes another step in your direction, your back meeting with the wall after you attempt to maintain the space between the both of you.

one of his palms presses to the wall beside your head, though the other remains at his side. he doesn't want to trap you there, not when he still doesn't have a clear idea of how you're feeling.

his breath fans across your face, your mind struggling to process what was happening. you whisper his name, unsure of how else to respond.

"i want you." he nearly chokes on the words, the pain of admitting them evident in his voice. "want you more than anything."

and he does. he wants you more than the sleep he never gets. more than he wants to honor suguru. more than he wants to be a good man.

his head dips down, your breath catching in your throat when his lips find the spot on your jaw just below your ear.

"please, tell me to stop," he begs, sending a shiver down your spine.

your hands move to his chest, the rise and fall of it uneven and sporadic. god, you make him so fucking weak it's almost pathetic.

his lips shift to your cheek, closer to your mouth, and his hand reaches up to cradle the other side of your face. he sounds irrevocably desperate now, "tell me you don't want me."

your heart's beating so loudly in your ear drums, you can hardly hear yourself speak. "satoru, please."

"please what?" he asks, and for a moment you're unsure of the answer.

you try to open your mouth once more, but the words are lodged in your throat. confusion and frustration rattle around in your head, making it difficult to string together your thoughts. finally you just give in, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling his lips against your own.

he let's out a strangled noise, some unknowable mix of pleasure and relief. his hands land on your hips at once, greedily pulling your body against his own.

his lips are chapped, but they're perfect in the way they move against yours. the kiss isn't clumsy, nor is it unsure. it's ardent and comfortable, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

you pull away first, each of you holding the other's gaze. you're both hazy eyed, your mouths curved into giddy, lovesick grins.

gojo doesn't hesitate when you glance down at his lips, your words easing that bitter self loathing he'd been enduring for longer than he cares to admit. "if you want me... then make me yours."

taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice

[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell (4)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: Angst, descriptions of pain

a/n: Thank you again for reading this series, I really love writing it :) More to come! I really really appreciate feedback, as always ♡

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ☆ Part 3 ✶ Part 5 ☁

Series Masterlist

~~

“It’s going to feel like a push,” Rhys explained, his fingers intertwined between his knees. “And then you’ll know I’m in your mind. It shouldn’t hurt—maybe just a pinch and then a pressure.” 

You nodded, clutching the arms of your chair with white-knuckled fingers. 

“He’s in my mind all the time. Uninvited, might I add. Doesn’t hurt, it’s just annoying,” Mor added. 

Turning your head in her direction, eyes downcast toward the floor, you nodded to her, too. 

The faelights gave the room a warm amber hue. It was the day after you met Rhys—or rather, became reacquainted with him—and the day he was going to look for your memories. Mor sat beside you, the blue dress she wore shimmering beneath the glow of the room, and Azriel stood guard by the door. What he was guarding you from, you had no idea, but the act seemed to comfort him. 

“Was Cassian busy?” you asked, and then immediately regretted it. 

It wasn’t Cassian’s job to be here. He was a grown man with a position in this court. He was busy, obviously. You also barely knew him. 

What a stupid question.

Rhys breathed through a smile, anyway. “He’s up at the camps today. But I’ll let him know you asked for him. He’ll love that.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—” 

“He’ll love it. I was being genuine,” Rhys comforted, interrupting the anxiousness rising in your tone. “Should we get started?”

You took a deep breath meant to rid the feeling of nausea overtaking you. It didn’t work. 

“Yes,” you replied, easing your trembling fingers into your lap. “Yes, I’m ready.” 

Rhys kicked up from the table he was leaning against, spinning a chair around in front of you. He sat, and the instant his knees bent to make the descent, Azriel was out from his hiding place in the dark. He loomed over the High Lord, shadows agitated, wings tucked in tight. To his credit, Rhys only gave the new, menacing presence a quick glance. 

“Should I keep my eyes open? Or do we have to touch or—” 

“Just relax,” Rhys offered. “With everything going on, your mind should be wide open. This will be simple and fast. I promise.” 

A promise from a High Lord—from your family, you reminded yourself. This was going to be fine. You doubled up on tonics this morning, so the pain in your head was minimal and you were safe here.

This was going to be fine. 

You hadn't even noticed the rapid pace of your breath until Azriel’s shadows came to wind around your shoulders, the quick uptick of the darkness more telling than anything else. The small wisps traveled up and down with the rhythm of your breath until it began to even out, and then they curled around your cheeks as if to caress you. When they made the occasional pass by your ears, it felt as if you were being told secrets—as if you were important enough to know something no one else did. 

Yes, this was going to be fine. 

Rhys cleared his throat. 

The first step into your mind was jarring, the sensation making you physically jump. Rhys seemed to raise a hand up at the entry—to knock on something or open it up—but he passed through a permeable wall instead. He passed through with ease. 

The High Lord made a low, surprised sound that echoed in the room. 

“What?” Azriel gruffly asked. 

Rhys paused. “Well, nothing, I just—I just expected some of her magic to have remained where it was. For some of it to be protecting her mind.” 

“Magic?” you whispered. 

Azriel’s eyes snapped to you as if on instinct—as if the sound of your voice was simply something he always followed—but his expression did not match the sentiment. He looked haunted, a shadow cast over the grim line of his mouth. 

“I have magic?” 

Your whisper was cut off by a sharp intake of air. Rhys had moved on from the outskirts of your mind, each step deeper a clicking echo in the stark chamber. He went in directions that felt practiced, like he’d been here before but everything had been rearranged, removed. 

You watched as the High Lord ran a rough hand over his mouth, his brows furrowed in concentration. 

Mor placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

Azriel watched the man within your mind, a preternatural stillness stiffening his limbs.

“It’s like you’ve been wiped.” Rhys shook his head. “But that doesn’t make any sense. You still know language, you know how to—to be fae. But everything else is…” 

Within your mind, you felt a darkness roll from Rhys. He was sending something out, inspecting the area. The pain began then, but you weren’t going to tell them. You weren’t going to break and ruin something else. 

The darkness invaded small crevices in your mind, sleuthing and slinking in areas you hadn’t been aware of yourself. More pressure built up behind your skull. 

You could still manage it. 

The air was knocked from your lungs, but you could still manage it. 

“Rhysand,” Azriel warned. Blue began to overpower the orange glow of the room. 

“I think I’m almost somewhere,” the High Lord replied. 

“She’s—” 

“Keep going,” you gritted out. “It just feels odd,” you lied. “I’m okay, keep going.” 

Azriel shook his head, face twisting in an expression of grief that almost had you taking back your words. He abandoned his observation of Rhys and approached your chair, kneeling down next to you, the bone of his knee harshly pressing against the floor. 

He nodded, something resolute in his eyes. “Okay. Okay, whatever you want.” 

From beside you, you heard Mor’s pained sigh, felt her turn to look away.

You tore your eyes from the piousness before you, but Azriel did not budge. His elbow came to rest on the flat surface of his thigh, his fingers extending out to touch the wooden leg of your chair. 

“Please, keep going.” 

Rhys nodded. The darkness in your mind expanded. It flowed like a cloud rolling out before a storm, reaching every corner of unsearched territory. There was nothing it couldn’t reach, and good, let it fill you up. Let it consume your mind because it was no use to you in this state. Azriel was kneeling before you, desperate and scared, and you couldn’t understand why, so let the darkness become you. 

If it led to understanding, to your life, you would withstand this pain. 

The first scream that left you ripped through the air like a strike, unsettling any gentleness that had resided in the small office. Rhys had found something; his darkness had collided with a wall—the only wall, only structure, in your mind—and he had gone to investigate. With the simple press of his hand against the sturdy cobalt, a blinding pain found a home in your skull. 

Azriel jolted, the fingers that had gripped your chair flying to cover your knee. 

You screamed again. And again. 

“Stop! Enough, Rhysand. Get out of her head,” Azriel ordered, but he sounded as if he were underwater. He raised his voice above your screams but he sounded so far away. 

You collapsed forward, hands coming up to cradle your head. There was a touch at your back, maybe another along your hair—you couldn’t tell. The pain was too great. 

“There’s a wall. Something foreign. The energy isn’t hers,” Rhys called. He sounded distant as well. 

The world grew light. 

“I don’t care,” Azriel gritted out. “We can try again later. She’s going to pass out and last time—” 

“Keep… going,” you panted, fighting past the pain to insert yourself into the conversation.

This was your decision, your mind. Your life that was torn away. 

“Y/n, please. You don’t understand,” Azriel begged, shifting forward and gripping your wrists in his scarred hands. “This isn’t good for you. This isn’t—please.” 

Sweat beaded at your brow. Rhys’s presence hadn’t left your mind. “I have… to know. Have to try.” 

“Rhys, maybe we shouldn’t—” Mor began in a soft, hesitant voice. 

“Go.” With a simple word from you, Rhys bypassed all else. 

Pain exploded at the first talon scratching down the slope of the foreign wall. You surpassed screams, your voice breaking at the peak of the most violent one. At some point, the hands on your head were replaced by larger ones, and you found the texture of them to be a grounding point. Something about the feeling was familiar, like your skin was used to the patterns, the raised edges and the divots along fingers. They traced soothing shapes along your cheeks, dried tears you didn’t realize were cascading down your face. 

And then Rhys stood abruptly, his chair rocking back and forth with his departure. The pain dulled, leaving you with heavy breaths and a lingering ache you weren’t sure would ever go away. 

“You’re okay, angel. You’re okay.” 

Breathing in was difficult. The world felt off its axis. 

Pale-faced and blinking, Rhys breathed out, “We need to go to Helion.” 

You gathered the strength to look up further. 

Azriel’s expression crumbled, his beautiful face only inches from yours and filled with such dread that when you succumbed to the lightness creeping into your vision, you feared the descent. 

~~

Your loss of consciousness was brief, which was, apparently, very unexpected. 

Your once stiff chair was no longer beneath you, and where you expected to be folded up into an uncomfortable shape and cold, you were instead held against a warm, vibrating presence. 

No, not vibrating, that wasn’t right. Just speaking—you were being held by someone and they were speaking. 

“—back there. Rhys, it’s not a good idea. If you said it was the same energy from before, we can’t—I can’t—” 

“He is gone, Az. You know that. Bringing her there would only serve to help her. You know Helion would go to lengths…” 

Your comprehension faded in and out, matching the swells of pain in your head. You were reluctant to open your eyes and welcome the assault of light and sensation that would surely greet you when you did. 

There was a soft lull in the conversation, although you couldn’t decipher where it had left off. You felt a light pressure along your face and welcomed the relief and comfort that came with it. Some of the ache dissipated along the path of the touch. 

“Her screams,” you heard Azriel stress, and it felt as if his words were spoken against your skin. “They were so reminiscent of that night. All of this is.” 

“I know, brother,” Rhys replied. 

“I don’t know if I can do this. If I can survive this.”

A sniff. Something wet along your jaw. The chest you were pressed against seemed to tremble. 

“You have to. She’ll need you when she comes out on the other side of this.” 

“I know,” Azriel whispered, words weaker but somehow even closer. “I know.” 

Disregarding all of your senses that argued against it, you cracked your eyes open. The lights were still low, but even that fact didn’t stop the burning behind your eyes from amplifying. A repercussion from Rhysand’s investigation, surely. 

Whoever was left in the room gave you time to adjust, no one speaking or moving or expecting anything from you other than breath. You felt the hold on you loosen, but not withdraw. 

Part of you, a deep, intrinsic part, knew it was Azriel. His voice and his scent and the feel of his body seemed to be things you could recognize even when nothing else made sense. So, you knew it was him holding you from the moment your mind began to catch up with the environment. 

And still, seeing him so close, feeling him against you—it was a shock to your already overwhelmed system. 

You groaned, face scrunching as you tried to gather your bearings. Azriel’s legs shifted, and your body moved along with them. The motion served as a catalyst in your effort to sit up. 

“Hey, hold on,” Azriel cautioned. Hearing his voice so soft—so careful—had you blinking, trying to parse out what was real and what was still hazy.

“Did…did we figure out what was wrong?” you asked, groggy. “Did you find anything?” 

You turned your head with sharp momentum, regretting the act as soon as you did it. But you didn’t have time for pain—for fear. Rhys looked back at you with a sympathetic smile, both of you ignoring the sound of protest from Azriel at your movement. 

His hand moved to rest along the back of your neck as Rhys spoke, keeping your head in one place. Keeping it supported and still. 

You didn’t have the energy to shake it off. 

Did you want to? 

“I found something. Not as much as I’d have liked, but it’s something to go off of. We’ll… have to go to Day. There’s more information there. I’ve sent Mor to sort out the logistics.” 

A glance around the room confirmed that the blonde was no longer there. It must have been a quick decision to send her away. As quick as Azriel tugging you out of your chair and holding you on the floor. 

Rhys didn’t seem uncomfortable by the display, but of course he wouldn’t—not if his goal was to drive two enemies back into friendship. 

If you were ever even friends to begin with.

The trajectory of your thoughts made you grimace in Azriel’s arms, and even though your entire body protested it, you shifted away from him, hands coming down to the floor to support your weight. A soft grunt left you.

Why did a search through your mind leave you so weak? 

“My lo—y/n, stop,” Azriel fumbled over his words, reaching out for you. 

But with confusion and pain marring your state of mind—causing your usually perfectly practiced, patient replies to skew—you only struggled more and pushed farther away. There were too many unknowns, too many questions, too many feelings surrounding this man who looked at you as if you were never-ending but pushed you away as if you were finite. 

You couldn’t take it. 

And maybe this is how you—the real you, the one with her memories—would react, anyway. Everyone always seemed to expect a strong will and unyielding tenacity, their disappointment at your meekness glaringly obvious. 

Maybe you were supposed to fight against these secrets and this pain. 

“I’ve got it,” you grunted out, pushing closer to the desk, closer to the rift you didn’t understand between you and Azriel. 

You wanted Mor back. 

She made more sense. 

Looking up from your struggle, you caught Azriel and Rhysand in the midst of a staring match, their expressions firm and drawn. With what you now understood about Rhys and his powers, you were sure they were communicating somehow. 

When Rhys spoke next, your hypothesis was only confirmed. “Az is going to take you back to your room,” he said, eyes never leaving the shadowsinger. “He’s going to help you pack.” 

When the High Lord left, the door clicking shut with finality, tension blanketed the room. The worst part of it all was your lack of context. Something big was happening, something immeasurable, and you had no upper hand—not even a foot on the ground. 

You looked down at your palms and then back up at Azriel. He had yet to move from his position kneeling before you, hands still outstretched in some fruitless reach, elbows bent and tense against his sides.

You wanted Mor back. 

She seemed to love you—to want you here.

“I can get back to my room on my own,” you offered, and even though the words were barely a whisper, they were resounding in the silent room. 

Azriel licked his lips and looked down. When his hands fell to his sides, you took that as compliance, as acceptance. On shaking arms, you attempted to lift yourself up. 

“I haven’t been doing this right.” Your unsuccessful attempt abruptly ceased. Azriel continued. “I barely got it right the first time. This time… this time I—” 

“It’s okay, Azriel. I understand, I think.” 

Hazel eyes met yours, the collection of colors confused beneath furrowed brows. 

You so badly wanted to soothe away all of the unease within them, to brush your thumb along his brow even though you were sure he wouldn’t want to do the same—not without his family present to witness it. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

You wanted to sigh, but too much air might’ve made you pass out again. Instead, you bit the inside of your cheek, twisting your lips as you considered the best way to phrase the thoughts that had been plaguing you. 

“No one will tell me about you—about who we were to each other before I lost everything. I thought maybe it was because you were going to tell me, but then you wanted nothing to do with me and I understood a little better. I understood that maybe we weren’t friends before all of this. And that’s okay, I know that we lived lives that I can’t remember. 

“But then… sometimes you do things that don’t make sense to me. You say things that don’t add up with what I’ve come to terms with and I think… I think my mind and my body get confused. It’s strange,” you admitted, using what little strength you still coveted to push yourself back against Rhys’s desk. “But I think I understand now. And I’m sorry if I make it weird. I think that even if my mind understands who you are to me, there are other parts that don’t quite catch up.” 

“And who am I to you?” Azriel asked, voice raw. 

You looked up from your fingers to meet his gaze again, greedily relishing in the calm they provided you. It was always calm there. “I don’t know. But I know I don’t have the honor of meaning anything to you. Maybe we didn’t get along, or maybe we just never meshed. But I can tell you struggle with this new role—whatever it is the Inner Circle has asked you to do with me. I can tell this isn’t natural for you, spending time with me, trying to be my friend.” 

Azriel fell further back on his ankles, his wings unfurling from their tight coil to drape along the floor in a defeated posture. It looked wrong; you’d been around these men and their wings and they never dragged. 

Azriel’s mouth parted slightly, his jaw off-centered. His gaze left you in favor of staring at the floor, and you surmised that you caught him. You figured him out. This pawn he had become—you had freed him from the game. 

But then sighed and he said, “No,” and the word was whispered with so much sadness that none of this felt like a game anymore. Not that it was fun; this had never been fun.

“No,” he repeated. “Y/n, spending time with you—being around you—it’s as natural as breathing for me.” He looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “Gods, I’ve done this so wrong.” 

“Azriel, it’s—” 

“Even just hearing you say my name. After so many days without it, I could sit and just listen to you talk and I would be content.” 

Your fingers felt numb. 

Azriel stopped staring at the ceiling. 

“We have always meshed,” he said. “I was being selfish—avoiding you when I shouldn’t have. The truth, y/n, is that we are close. Very close. Rhysand, Mor, Cassian—they don’t have to ask me to forge some… bond with you because that has already been 300 years in the making.” 

“But at lunch and every time I—” 

“It’s hard and I have been a coward,” Azirel interrupted, shifting forward until his knees brushed against yours on the ground. “This has been inexplicably harder for you and I have been a coward and there is no part of me that wants to be away from you.” 

It somehow felt as if your life was turning upside down again because you had made conclusions and assumptions and none of them were right. You had come to terms with the fact that you felt safest with a man who wanted nothing to do with you and had mourned the loss already. It had been strange to mourn something you had only just gained, but it had felt even stranger to lose Azriel. 

It hadn’t felt right.

“So we’re friends?” you tentatively asked, feeling the wooden corner of the desk dig into your spine. 

Azriel swallowed. “Yes.” 

“And you… like being my friend?” 

“Very much.” 

“Are you sure?” 

Azriel laughed, the sound so startlingly joyous you felt it swelling in your own chest. It filled you up, consumed you, and you wished for a long moment that you hadn’t been so willing to allow Rhys’s darkness into the crevices of your mind. This feeling belonged there. Only this. 

“I am positive,” he assured, a smile lingering on his face. “Being your friend has been my crowning achievement for the last three centuries.” 

“That doesn’t seem like much of an achievement,” you replied, the snark in your tone surprising you. 

It seemed to surprise Azriel as well, his brows shooting to his hairline. “Fortunately, you are not the authority on my achievements, especially since you don’t remember them and can’t recall how amazing it is to be your friend.” 

He kept tripping over that word—friend. 

You decided to ignore it, too pleased by the way you made Azriel laugh and smile and not look at you the way he had been for the past several days. 

And something was glowing in your chest, something that seemed to replace the near-constant ache you had grown so accustomed to. 

Later, you would ask more questions. Later, you would ask Azriel about Day Court and the reason why he silently panicked every time you ran your hand along your temple to ease the pressure there. 

But for now, you smiled at the shadowsinger, and he smiled back.

Part 5 ☁

[marysfics]

In the Silence of the Night

You’ve noticed that your girlfriend has been withdrawing a bit lately due to her busy work schedule. You really need her help with your medical injections, but you don’t want to add to her stress. You’ve tried doing it yourself, but it’s been more challenging than you thought it would be.

Angst, Needles, Fluff, Happy Ending

It was nearing 8 PM when you heard the front door finally creak open. You didn’t need to check to know it was Alexia. The sound of her duffel bag hitting the floor with a soft thud, followed by the weary sigh she let out, told you everything you needed to know. She’d had another long, draining day at the club, just like she had the day before… and the day before that.

You lifted your head slightly from where you were curled up on the couch, trying to suppress the flicker of hope that had bubbled in your chest all day. That small, irrational hope that maybe tonight she’d come in, smile, and ask how you were doing. Maybe she’d sit next to you, brush a kiss across your forehead, and offer to help with your injection like she always used to. But the moment was fleeting as soon as she stepped inside.

Without even looking your way, Alexia walked past the living room, her footsteps heavy as they disappeared down the hallway. "I’m just going to shower," she mumbled in your direction, the exhaustion dripping from her voice like water from a leaking tap. "I’ll be quick, I promise."

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. You watched her disappear around the corner, the hum of the bathroom light flicking on soon after. And just like that, the bubble of anticipation burst, leaving nothing but a sinking weight in your stomach.

She didn’t ask how your day was. Not anymore.

Your gaze dropped to the small black case sitting on the coffee table in front of you. You stared at it for a moment, your throat tightening. The case held the injections—your injections—the ones you’d always relied on Alexia to help you with. It had become a kind of routine between the two of you, an unspoken pact of support and care. You hated needles, but when she was the one doing it, it didn’t seem so bad. You always felt safe when she was by your side.

But lately… things had changed. She had changed.

You bit your lip, drawing in a shaky breath. You understood that she was busy. You really did. Being captain came with more responsibilities, and there were new players to help, more training sessions to oversee, more late-night meetings, more everything. You could see how much it weighed on her. And you didn’t want to be another burden.

Still, it stung. It stung that, even when she was finally home, she seemed distant, distracted. It stung that she didn’t seem to notice how much you’d been struggling, even though the signs were all there, clear as day. She used to notice everything. Now, she barely noticed you at all.

I’ll talk to her tonight, you told yourself, trying to push back the rising tide of frustration and doubt. She’s just tired. It’s not her fault. She’ll listen.

But as the minutes passed and the steady hum of the shower continued to echo through the walls, the doubt began to creep in. The words you’d been rehearsing in your head all day started to feel inadequate, too small for the growing gap between you. What if she brushed it off again? What if she said she didn’t have time?

You pressed your hands into your lap, your fingers twisting together nervously. The thought of doing the injection on your own tonight filled you with a quiet, gnawing dread. You could do it. You should be able to do it, after all these years. But the idea of going through the familiar process without her there, without her steady hands and calming presence, made your chest feel tight.

You heard the water stop, the shower shutting off with a quick squeak of the faucet, and moments later, the sound of Alexia padding back down the hallway reached your ears. She didn’t stop this time either—just a quick, tired, "I’ll be in bed," tossed over her shoulder as she headed straight to the bedroom.

You sat there for a long time after she disappeared. Long enough for the apartment to fall into a deep silence, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. The case still sat on the table, staring back at you, waiting.

It wasn’t just the injection. It wasn’t just about the needle piercing your skin, or the act itself. It was what it represented. It was about the growing distance between the two of you, the way it felt like you were slipping further and further apart with each passing day. You didn’t want to feel like you were losing her, but you did. And what scared you most was the thought that she didn’t even realize it.

You rubbed your palms over your face, trying to shake the thoughts away. Maybe tomorrow would be different. Maybe, if you waited long enough, Alexia would come back out, sit beside you, and everything would go back to how it used to be. You could hear her voice in your head, soothing and gentle: I’m here, cariño. I’m always here.

But tonight, she wasn’t.

And that thought was enough to leave you sitting in silence, the weight of the injection case heavier than it had ever been.

You sat there for what felt like an eternity, the silence in the apartment growing heavier with each passing moment. Finally, with a resigned sigh, you pushed yourself off the couch and walked toward the bedroom. The weight of the black case felt like an anchor dragging behind you, each step a reminder of the challenge ahead.

When you entered the bedroom, the dim light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow over Alexia, who was already half-buried under the covers. Her eyes were closed, her breathing steady, and for a moment, you hesitated. But the ache in your chest pushed you forward. You needed to talk to her. You needed her help.

You approached the bed slowly, the quiet creak of the floorboards the only sound in the otherwise still room. “Alexia,” you said softly, trying to sound as calm as possible. “Can we talk for a second?”

Alexia stirred, blinking sleepily as she turned toward you. She looked up, her expression a mix of confusion and fatigue. Without waiting for a full response, she leaned in and pressed a quick, tender kiss to your lips. The gesture was familiar and comforting, but it felt rushed, almost automatic.

“Sorry, cariño,” she murmured against your lips, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m so tired. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. The issue was complicated, and you were too weary to fight for your point. You tried to start again, but your voice was barely a murmur, lost amidst the tangled blankets and Alexia’s already retreating sleep.

“Um… I just—” You tried to say, but she had already turned her back slightly, clearly ready to drift off again. “I need your help with…”

But the words wouldn’t come. The term injection seemed to lodge itself in your throat, too difficult to utter. Instead, you stood there feeling small and overwhelmed, the conversation slipping through your fingers like sand.

You sighed deeply, retreating from the bed. The small black case on the coffee table in the living room seemed to mock you now. The thought of trying to manage it yourself filled you with a mix of determination and dread. You had no choice. You needed to handle this on your own.

Returning to the living room, you took a deep breath and retrieved the case. Your hands were trembling as you set it up, the familiar steps feeling foreign and daunting without Alexia’s calming presence. You tried to remember each part of the process, focusing intently as you prepared the syringe.

The first needle prick was sharp and uncomfortable. You winced, struggling to keep your hand steady. The injection was awkward, and you knew it wasn’t going in smoothly. The needle wobbled, and you felt a sharp sting that was far more intense than usual.

When you finally finished, you pulled the needle out, but the skin around the injection site felt sore and swollen. The sensation of an impending bruise began to settle in. You looked at the result, the slight redness and unevenness telling you that it hadn’t gone as smoothly as it should have.

You felt a surge of frustration and sadness. The injection was done, but it had left more than just a physical mark. The emotional weight of it all—trying to manage alone, the growing distance between you and Alexia, the unspoken words—was almost too much to bear.

Sitting down on the edge of the couch, you held your arm and looked around the room, feeling an overwhelming sense of loneliness. You had managed to do it, but it was clear that things needed to change. You needed more than just a quick kiss and a promise to talk tomorrow. You needed to find a way to bridge the gap that had grown between you.

With a heavy heart and a painful bruise forming, you lay down on the couch, trying to push aside the frustration and hurt. As you stared at the ceiling, the quiet of the apartment felt like an echo of your inner turmoil. You were left alone with your thoughts, the ache of the day settling deep into your bones.

The next morning, the sunlight filtered through the curtains in a hazy, indifferent glow. You woke up to find Alexia already up and moving around the apartment, her movements quick and purposeful. It was clear she had another busy day ahead.

You stretched out beneath the covers, trying to muster the energy to join her. As she prepared to leave, you rolled over and reached out for her, hoping to get a few more moments of closeness. “Alexia,” you murmured, voice still heavy with sleep. “Can we—”

She turned to you, her eyes tired but focused. She gave you a faint, distracted smile. “I’m sorry, cariño, but I really need to get going. The team has an early meeting today.”

You tried to pull her closer, wanting to cuddle up to her before she left, but she gently but firmly stepped back. “I’ve got to run. I’ll see you later, okay?” Her tone was soft but final, and before you could say another word, she was out the door.

You watched her go, feeling a familiar pang of loneliness. It wasn’t that you were trying to be clingy; you just needed more connection, more reassurance. But it seemed like every attempt to bridge the gap was met with increasing distance.

As the day dragged on, you found yourself increasingly withdrawn. You tried to distract yourself with small tasks, but the weight of the previous night and the ongoing tension with Alexia hung over you like a dark cloud. By evening, the thought of going to bed early to escape the pain seemed like the best option.

However, the reminder of your injection brought you back to reality. The small black case sat on the coffee table, taunting you with its presence. You had hoped Alexia would be home in time to help you, but she had texted you a brief message around 7 PM—“Hey, still at the club. Things are running behind. I’ll be home late. Miss you.”

You stared at the screen, feeling a mixture of frustration and sadness. You missed her too, but the text felt impersonal compared to the support you really needed. You glanced at the clock. It was getting late, and you knew you couldn’t put off the injection any longer.

You tried to psych yourself up, determined to handle it alone this time. But as you fumbled with the needle and the syringe, the anxiety and discomfort from the previous attempt came rushing back. Your hands shook uncontrollably, and your attempts at administering the injection were clumsy and painful.

After several failed attempts and tears of frustration, you felt a growing sense of despair. You couldn’t do it. The pain was too much, and the thought of another bruise or worse was overwhelming. You sat on the couch, feeling defeated and helpless.

In a moment of desperation, you picked up your phone, scrolling through your contacts until you found Alba’s number. Your fingers hovered over the screen, and then you pressed the call button. The phone rang, and as you listened to it ring, you felt a lump forming in your throat.

“Hello?” Alba’s voice answered, calm and soothing.

“It’s me,” you said, your voice trembling. “I—I need help. I can’t do it. I’m so sorry to call you, but—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Alba interrupted gently. “I’m on my way.”

When Alba arrived, she looked at you with a mix of worry and determination. You led her to the living room, where the black injection case was waiting on the coffee table. Her eyes fell on your bruised arm, and she winced.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice soft but filled with concern.

“I tried to do it myself,” you said, your voice trembling. “It didn’t go well. I know it’s not right, but Alexia’s been so busy, and I didn’t want to bother her.”

Alba nodded, her expression resolute. “Alright, let’s figure this out. I’ve never done this before, but we’ll get through it.”

You took a deep breath, trying to remember how Alexia used to do it. “Okay, so you need to… first, clean the area with an alcohol swab. And then you have to make sure the needle is ready, and…”

Your words came out in a rush, filled with a mix of anxiety and desperation. Alba listened carefully, trying to follow your instructions as best as she could. You could hear her taking deep breaths, her voice steady despite the situation.

“Alright, I’ve got the swab and the syringe,” Alba said, her tone more confident now. “Just talk me through the rest.”

As you guided her, you felt a mixture of relief and tension. Alba was doing her best to stay calm, but you could hear the slight tremor in her voice. It was evident she was nervous, but she was trying not to let it show.

“You’ve got this,” you said softly, trying to reassure both her and yourself. “Just remember to be gentle and to get it in quickly.”

Alba nodded, her hands steadying as she prepared the needle. “Okay, I think I’m ready.”

You guided her through the final steps, your heart racing with every movement. When she finally managed to complete the injection, you let out a shaky breath, the tension in your shoulders slowly easing.

As Alba finished the injection, you let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension in your shoulders slowly begin to ease. She gave you a reassuring smile before heading out, promising to check in later. You sank into the couch, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. Despite the relief from the injection, the emotional strain was heavy.

The weight of it all was too much. You wrapped yourself in a blanket and drifted off to sleep on the couch, hoping that tomorrow would bring some clarity and resolution.

A few hours later, the soft click of the front door woke you. You stirred, groggy and disoriented, as the familiar sound of Alexia’s footsteps filled the apartment. She must have come in quietly to avoid disturbing you. You squinted, struggling to sit up as she entered the living room.

Alexia paused when she saw you on the couch, her eyes immediately landing on the bruise on your arm. Her expression shifted from tiredness to concern as she approached you. “Hey,” she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep here.”

You rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the lingering fog of sleep. “Yeah, it’s been a rough day.”

Alexia’s gaze flicked to the black case on the coffee table, the remnants of Alba’s visit still visible. It was then that a flicker of realization crossed her face. Her shoulders sagged slightly as she took in the situation—the injection kit, the bruise on your arm, the signs of distress etched into your features.

“Oh dios mio,” she murmured, her voice breaking with a mix of guilt and worry. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize…”

Her hand reached out to gently touch your arm, and the softness of her touch was both comforting and heartbreaking. “I should have been here for you. I didn’t know it was this bad.”

You looked up at her, your eyes filled with a mix of relief and lingering hurt. “I didn’t want to bother you. You’ve been so busy, and I thought… I thought I could manage on my own.”

Alexia shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “No, you shouldn’t have had to. I should have been paying attention. I should have been here.”

As the days passed, the efforts Alexia made to mend the rift between you were deeply moving. The grand gestures, the thoughtful surprises, and the sincere apologies helped to heal some of the wounds, but rebuilding trust was a journey that needed both time and patience.

You had forgiven her. The love you felt for her hadn't wavered; it was simply shadowed by the hurt of her absence and the loneliness you had felt. Forgiveness was a step forward, but you knew that true healing required more than just saying the words. It meant working together to rebuild the trust that had been fractured.

You began to talk openly about your feelings, your fears, and your needs. It was a new kind of dialogue for both of you, one that involved vulnerability and honesty. Alexia listened with an open heart, her understanding growing with each conversation. You both acknowledged that communication had faltered, but you were committed to changing that.

One evening, as you sat together on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms, you found a moment of clarity. “Alexia,” you said softly, “I’ve forgiven you, but it’s going to take time to rebuild that trust. I need us to keep working on this, to communicate better and to be there for each other.”

Alexia nodded, her eyes filled with both sadness and determination. “I understand. I’m committed to working on this with you. I want to make things right, and I want us to be stronger than before.”

Her words were a balm to your wounded heart. The sincerity in her voice and the effort she was putting into making things right made a world of difference. You could see how much she wanted to be the partner you deserved, and that gave you hope for the future.

That night, as you lay in bed, Alexia held you close. The warmth of her embrace was a reminder of how much she cared, and it seemed to envelop you both in a cocoon of love and safety. You felt her breathing become uneven, and when you looked up, you saw tears glistening in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I never meant to hurt you. I’m so grateful that you still choose me, that you’re willing to work through this with me.”

Her tears fell softly onto your shoulder as she held you tightly, her emotion raw and genuine. You could feel the weight of her remorse and her overwhelming love. The sight of her crying, holding you with such deep gratitude, was both heartbreaking and reassuring.

“You’re my everything,” she continued, her voice cracking. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Thank you for giving us a chance, for choosing to be with me despite everything.”

You held her tightly, feeling her tears mix with your own. “We’ll get through this together,” you said softly, your voice filled with conviction. “I believe in us, and I believe in our future.”

In that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the pain of the past began to dissolve. The trust that needed rebuilding was a journey, but you both knew that with love, effort, and open communication, you could create a stronger, more resilient bond. Alexia’s overwhelming love and gratitude were a testament to the depth of her feelings, and it filled you with a renewed sense of hope and commitment for the days ahead.

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 4 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: the power outage is still power outing, curses, Jungkook being Jungkook, mentions of being really drunk and throwing up, explicit content: they talk about what happened in ch 3, teasing, some Mario Kart (yes, it has to be in the explicit content section lmao), hickeys, brat!reader, dom!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, degradation (he calls her a slut/pretty little slut), consent king Jeon Jungkook, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, jerking off, talks about having raw sex, protected sex, praise

☆word count: 9.5k

☆a/n: new chapterrrrrrr! Enjoy reading everyone <3 there's a tiny bit of angst if you squint your eyes really hard, but the real angst will hit much later on. Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, February 15th

You wake up slowly, with the rising sun. Your room is dark, cold, yet you’re snuggled close to Jungkook, whose body heat has been keeping you warm all night. He’s still asleep, mouth slightly parted, and you watch him for a few seconds before the events of last night come back to your mind, and you have to shut your eyes to try to forget.

It’s hard. His arm is still draped over you, and it twitches in his sleep. You try to push him away, but he wraps his arm around you tighter, nuzzling his face in your neck. It does something to you that you entirely can’t deal with, and you shut your eyes even harder, trying to ignore the way your heart is acting up in your chest.

You breathe in, the cold air taming the burning inside of you. You exhale slowly, and to your surprise, your heart finally decides to start calming down. You keep breathing deeply for a while, and you reckon it might have worked better than you expected because, next thing you know, you wake up with a start.

Jungkook is sitting next to you, and he offers you a lopsided grin as you meet his gaze, heart once again beating wildly.

“Morning, peach,” he greets you, voice gravelly with sleep.

You force yourself to sit up, and you stretch a yawn away. “Morning.”

“Slept well?”

There’s a teasing glint in his eyes, mischief laced with his words. You know you shouldn’t be surprised. Know Jungkook is probably going to turn you into a blushing mess even more now. Especially as he smirks, head cocking to the side while he awaits your answer.

“Yeah,” you answer, and you look towards the window as his eyes bore into your profile. You take a deep breath, another yawn moving through you before you’re able to look at him again. “Did you?”

“Better than I thought I would,” he admits, and he stretches before lying back down, pulling the covers to his face. It’s adorable, in a way Jeon Jungkook should never be, and you force yourself to not let it get to your mind as he continues, “I usually sleep like shit when I sleep with someone.”

You purse your lips, refusing to give meaning to his words as you say, “Maybe last night helped.”

The lopsided smile is back, and he nods once, sighing in content. “We should lose power more often.”

In the hopes that power would come back during the night, you plugged in your phone before going to sleep. You reach for it on the night table, and even though your room is still freezing, you’re still taken aback that the power is still out.

“Well, we still don’t have any,” you inform him.

He glances at you. “Then we should go back to sleep.”

At that, you snort, shaking your head. Even though your battery is low, you still go to your emails, trying to see if you received anything from your professor.

What you find is a college-wide email informing the students that all college activities are cancelled today and through the weekend, to start again on Monday. Your gaze widens before you glance at Jungkook.

“Power is still out in college, too,” you tell him. “So, no class.”

Jungkook’s smile only grows wider, and he opens his arms for you to come cuddle again. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Your heart is warm. A hearth, in which a small fire has started to burn. It’s soft, cozy, and you worry at your bottom lip as you survey Jungkook. As you try to figure out when you crossed the line, and if it’s too late to pull back.

You figure you can decide later when the power is back on and this bubble outside of time will have burst, and you lie back next to him. His arms, still wide open, look far too inviting, and it takes you about five seconds before you’re scooching into his embrace.

He sighs in content. “You know,” he lets out. “If Tae learns, I’m a dead man.”

Reality crashes harder than a tsunami on a beach, and you try to pull away. Jungkook holds onto you, even when you push on his chest.

“I was just going to say,” he adds so you’d stop pushing him, “that we should keep this between us.”

You nod against him as you finally stop trying to pull away. “Yes, I agree.”

“Good.”

And Tae doesn’t cross your mind for the rest of the morning. Eventually, you and Jungkook decide to move out of the safe comfort of the covers, needing to eat something before you die, as Jungkook jokes. It’s a quick trip to the kitchen before you figure your room is far warmer than the rest of the apartment. You retreat with fruits, while Jungkook grabs a bowl of the food he cooked yesterday.

Watching him eat it cold makes you gag, so you turn away from him to focus on eating your apple and blueberries.

“What?” he says, and he sounds like his mouth is full.

“How can you even be eating that?”

There are a few seconds of silence, while he clearly swallows his bite. “What’s wrong with it?”

You scrunch up your nose in disgust, glancing at him over your shoulder. His gaze is narrowed, eyebrows bunched together over his eyes as he fakes offence, or perhaps suspicion. It makes you snort, and you look away from him before you speak again.

“It’s cold.”

“Wow, is it?” he teases. “Never would have noticed.”

You roll your eyes, forcing your laugh down because Jeon Jungkook shouldn’t be making you laugh anyway. Silence replaces the conversation, and you finish eating in peace, watching the world outside the window.

It looks straight out of a fairy tale. The trees are covered in a thick coat of ice, and they glisten in the morning light as if they are made of glass. It’s beautiful, in an unforgiving way, and you find peace in their contemplation.

Peace in this comfortable silence with Jungkook.

By the time you’re done eating, Jungkook has wolfed down the bowl he made for himself, and you both return to the kitchen to put away the dishes you’d used. Jungkook leans against the counter while you rinse them, arms folded on his chest.

“What should we do today?” he asks.

You cock an eyebrow. “We?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “Unless you want to be alone.”

Your eyes dart to him quickly, before returning to the safety of the spot where the jet of water hits the bowl you’re holding. “What do you want to do?”

“We could go for a car ride,” he suggests. “To charge up our phones.”

“Don’t you think the roads are a little too dangerous right now?”

He plays with his piercing as he frowns slightly, clearly not having thought about this. “Right.” You watch as the cogs work in his brain, and you can’t help the smile that slowly grows on your lips when his features light up. “We can just stay parked somewhere.”

“We’d still have to get there.”

He furrows his brows. “I’m sure they’ve put salt on the streets, we should be okay.”

What he doesn’t know is that you don’t need convincing. You’ve already decided you’d go, mostly because you do need to charge your phone. Not because you really need it right now, but just because the thought of not having it with you feels strange. 

“We’re going?” Jungkook presses as you remain silent.

He must be immune to the teasing glint you know for a fact has taken over your eyes. You sigh, before nodding once. “Sure.”

He beams. “Let’s go!”

His enthusiasm makes you laugh, and you turn the tap off before turning to watch him as he’s leaving the kitchen. 

“Shouldn’t we brush our teeth and freshen up first?”

He stops in his tracks. “Right.” He turns, flashing you a grin that reveals the same dimples you noticed yesterday. “Good luck with taking a shower, though.”

You snort. “Let’s just brush our teeth.”

Which is what you do, Jungkook pushing you with his hips as you stand next to him. You flip him off, and his eyes sparkle as he looks at you.

It stabs right through your heart, and you look away, searching for salvation on the tiles of the floor. It does nothing – reality is just a heartbeat away, and no matter how easy it is with Jungkook right now, you’re very aware that the moment the world returns to normalcy, your relationship with him will too.

And you still don’t understand where this is coming from. Where this easy complicity between you comes from, and why you’ve never really noticed before. Was it because of Taehyung?

It’s a question you ask yourself for the next hour, as you sit in Jungkook’s car listening to music and belting out tunes even though you’re not half the singer that he is. He doesn’t mention it, only laughs along with you before asking you stupid questions about your past, about Taehyung when you grew up and why you decided to move in with them.

He clearly doesn’t like you saying that it was just because it was convenient. It’s clear as spring water, and he pouts slightly as he says, “Not even for me?”

You punch him in the shoulder. “I didn’t know you when I moved in.”

“But now you do,” he teases, smirk moving on his lips. 

There’s more meaning to his words than it seems, and you feel blush creeping on your cheeks. “Do I?”

“I’d say watching me jerk off and come is a good way to get to know me, no?”

“Jungkook!”

He laughs like a child as you flush furiously purple, trying to ignore how, as a matter of fact, his words are actually turning you on. You don’t want to think about last night, just want to focus on the now, on this unexpected friendship.

Jungkook has other plans for you, because he says, “Don’t tell me you didn’t like it.”

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

“You’re blushing.”

If possible, your glare intensifies. “Shut the fuck up.”

He dissolves in a fit of giggles that makes your heart skip a beat, and you roll your eyes before glancing at your phone. 

“Mine’s full now,” you mutter. 

For a reason you don’t quite understand, Jungkook has two phone cords in his car, both of them working to charge. He glances at his phone, shaking his head.

“You’re going to be stuck with me for longer, peach,” he tells you mischievously. “Mine’s only on 75%.”

“Do you really need it full?”

He offers you an innocent smile. “Definitely.”

Your phone buzzes, and you both glance towards it. You’ve received a text from Ria, in the group chat you share with the whole friend group. She’s asking how everyone’s surviving, and if anyone needs to crash at the dorm, which for some reason, is the only place on campus that still has power.

You hesitate for half a heartbeat before turning your phone off.

*****

Today was fun, albeit cold. After charging your phones in Jungkook’s car, you took a long walk through campus, just talking about everything and nothing as if you’d always been close.

As if he didn’t finger you with his cum last night.

Whenever the thought resurfaces, it makes you startle, and Jungkook smirks. Because he knows – obviously he does.

He knows the effect he has on you. You think he sees how you tense whenever his hand touches yours, whenever he stands just a little too close. And maybe that’s why you avoided going home for a long time, because you’re afraid that being stuck between four walls with him again will make you go insane.

Alas, when you both grow hungry sometime in the afternoon, you can’t force him to stay out, so you follow him home, ignoring the weight of your turned-off phone in your pocket.

Fortunately enough, on all the journey walking around campus, you didn’t run into anyone from your friend group. Somehow, you were afraid that you would – what would they think if they saw you hanging out with Jungkook?

More importantly, what would Hoseok think? Maybe it makes you an asshole, but in the moment, you don’t really care. You are entirely focused on Jungkook, mostly because it’s easy to be entirely focused on him. As if he’s the full moon in a summer night sky – he makes all the stars hard to see, as he shines too bright for their glow to be noticeable. 

You sigh as you’re settled in the kitchen, door closed as Jungkook reheats something on the stove. It’s not extremely cold in the apartment, but keeping the door shut does help with keeping the kitchen warm enough to be bearable with only a thick sweater on.

You think Jungkook is crazy. He’s only wearing a beige and indigo athletic Nike vest, and he’s left it unzipped because he claimed he was getting too warm. Underneath, a white t-shirt rests loosely around his waist, and you’ve been doing your best to forget just how dainty his waist is, under all the clothes.

“See, we’re going to build up your heat tolerance,” he says over his shoulder, and he flashes you a grin before focusing on what he’s reheating again.

“Good luck with that,” you answer, chuckling. “I’ve tried before, and nothing works.”

“You and Tae really are the worst at that,” Jungkook teases, and you roll your eyes even if he can’t see. 

Indeed, he’s turned his head towards the window, and he watches the sun as it gets lower in the sky, nearing the horizon. You’re afraid of when it’ll be gone under; you’re afraid it’ll elicit sinful activities between you and Jungkook again.

Afraid, yet with a certain kind of apprehension to it. Perhaps because it’s not fear of him, but rather fear of yourself.

It’s hard to remember that he’s Taehyung’s best friend when you’re alone with him like this.

Especially when he sets a steaming bowl of food in front of you, a wicked smile on his lips as he forces you to eat. As you choke on it, the heat too much to handle for you. Jungkook laughs out loud before handing you a glass of ice-cold water.

It barely helps, and the heat remains for a while as you eat, and even more so as you’re done, watching Jungkook eating a second portion as if he hasn’t eaten the first one in record time. You’re playing music on your phone, your usual study playlist – lo-fi beats – and Jungkook seems to like it. He’s been nodding his head to the music as he devoured his bowl.

When he finishes eating, sitting back in his chair as he rests a hand on his stomach, he once again offers you the wide grin. The sun is setting now – the whole kitchen is turning to gold, and you hate that the glow makes him look ethereal, like he’s a piece of heaven fallen to Earth for you to enjoy.

“Do you want to wash yourself?” Jungkook asks out of the blue. You cock an eyebrow in question, but before you’ve had a chance to say anything, he adds, “We could warm some water on the stove and use that to wash ourselves.”

Your eyes widen. “That’s actually a good idea.”

“Come on, peach,” he lets out, and he chuckles as he shakes his head, a little condescendingly. “You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

Stupid wouldn’t be the word that you’d use. Arrogant, maybe. Too full of himself, for sure. But you don’t think that saying so would be a good idea, so you only shrug.

“Aren’t you?”

He bursts out laughing, that goofy smile that makes your heart skip beats in your chest as if you’re twelve and it’s the first time you’re speaking to a guy. “I’m not, thank you very much. I wouldn’t be in college if I was.”

“Lots of stupid people are in college,” you point out mischievously.

He tuts. “I’d thought by now you’d know I’m not a lot of people, peach.” He cocks his head to the side, and his eyes drop to your lips. “You get fingered by a lot of guys like that?”

You turn to fire. “Excuse me?”

And the goofy smile returns, as if he didn’t just say the crudest sentence in the world. “Just teasing you.”

You narrow your eyes but don’t find any retort to that. It makes Jungkook’s grin widen, and then he gets up to bring your bowl and his to the sink. As he’s rinsing them, he offers you a look.

“Should I reheat some water then?” he asks, the teasing tone gone. 

You try a look towards him, but standing there, the sun forms too much of an aura around him, so you can barely see him even if you squint your eyes. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“One pot for you and one for me, then!”

His statement makes you laugh, and you get up to actually help him get the pots on the stove. You turn the gas on, using the lighter so that the flames catch, and soon the water is heating up, and the prospect of freshening up brings a smile to your lips.

You notice Jungkook looking at it, features turning somber. And he’s quick to look away. Quick to focus on where the sun dipped under the horizon, watching the clouds turning to gold above.

“Have you spoken to Tae today?” he asks, and the reminder of your brother makes you clench your jaw, ever so slightly.

“No,” you admit. You think he’ll say more, but he remains silent. So you take it upon yourself to make conversation, and you ask, “Have you?”

He shrugs. “Just told him the power is still out.”

“Mmh.”

The silence is deafening then – you can barely hear it over the clamour in your thoughts. And you don’t know where it’s coming from, only that the more the silence stretches, the more you grow unsteady on your feet.

“How did you guys meet?” you ask, voice sounding a little strained.

Jungkook shoots you a look. “He didn’t tell you?”

You purse your lips and shake your head no, which earns you a chuckle from him. It makes you grow suspicious, and you narrow your gaze. “What?”

“Nothing.” He pauses, observes your features for a moment with those big doe eyes of his before he says, “We met Frosh week.”

You remain silent, waiting for him to continue.

“He was pissed out drunk in a bush,” Jungkook admits, and his eyes fog up with the memories as he looks away from you. “Jimin is the one that found him first. And mind you, I only knew Jimin for a few days then, since we were dorm roommates.”

But you know how easy friendship forms in that Frosh week. You and Nabi are a good example of it after all.

“We couldn’t find anyone who knew him, so we brought him back to the dorm. He threw up in Jimin’s bed, and the next day he suggested grabbing breakfast together, as a thank you for taking care of him.”

Jungkook smiles fondly, and his gaze connects with yours. “And the rest is history.”

It sure is. You’re not really sure where you come into this story – if you should come into it at all. Because Jungkook and Taehyung really are close – what would Taehyung say if he knew what Jungkook and you did?

It’s a scary thought, one that you’ve remedied with Jungkook already. You just have to not tell Taehyung, simple as that.

“I think the water is ready,” Jungkook admits, and he dips his fingers in one of the pots. He nods, before saying, “You can grab yours, and go to the bathroom. I’ll clean up in my room.”

“Don’t you need soap?”

He raises an eyebrow. “You know soap can be carried outside of a bathroom? Like, it’s not confined-“

His sentence dies as you punch him in the chest, and he starts laughing as you curse him under your breath, grabbing the pot. 

“Open the door for me,” you grumble as you walk towards it.

“Please?”

You look up to the water-stained ceiling. “Are you for real?”

“Yes.”

You debate silently, though you know that you’ll cave in.

You reckon you’ll always cave in where Jungkook is concerned. 

“Can you please open the door for me?” you ask, and you scold yourself internally for not being able to stand your ground.

“Of course, peach,” he says, grinning widely. “I can actually carry that to the bathroom for you, I need to grab soap and a towel anyway.”

He walks towards you, gently taking the pot out of your hands, so you end up opening the door for him, begrudgingly following him to the bathroom. You follow him in, watching him as he carefully puts the pot down in the sink. 

“Here you go,” he says as he shoots you a look over his shoulder. 

You can’t help but look away as your gazes connect, before mumbling, “Thank you.”

“You could at least sound happy about it,” he teases. You roll your eyes, though a smile teases the corners of your lips. Jungkook taps your cheek, and you bristle, stepping away from him. 

If he cares he doesn’t show it, instead moving to grab a washcloth and his shower gel. 

Are you disappointed to see him go? Maybe. But you don’t let it show, instead shutting the door behind him, making sure to lock it before you strip out of your clothes to wash up.

It’s freezing, and you hate every second of it, so you make it quick, washing the most strategic and important body parts. When you’re done, you move to grab your clean clothes from the…

You never grabbed clean clothes, did you? 

You curse under your breath, mostly cursing Jungkook for making you so stupid around him. You hate it - you feel like you lose most of your brain cells when he’s around. But you can’t help it, and you tightly wrap yourself in a towel as you pray to the God above, if there’s one, to not make you run into Jungkook as you walk back to your room.

Of course, Jungkook opens the door to his room the second you are in front of it. You startle, freezing like a deer in headlights, and Jungkook’s gaze dips to your legs.

You hate the smirk growing on his lips the second it appears.

“What’s got you walking around naked in this temperature?”

Though you reckon his gaze warms you up in an instant, you reply, “Fuck off, I just forgot to get clean clothes.”

He leans against his doorframe, slipping his hands in the pocket of his grey sweatpants. He looks the perfect picture of male insolence, and fuck, it does things to you that it shouldn’t.

Like, make you remember that he fingered you with his cum yesterday. Thinking about it, it was a really stupid thing to do, but you hadn’t been able to resist…

And from the way he’s eyeing you right now, you highly doubt you’ll be able to resist him again. You realize then that the apartment is darkening, that soon you’ll have to light up the candles… 

You’re sinking in quicksands, aren’t you?

“How unfortunate,” Jungkook comments, always so arrogant.

“I said it already, but do really fuck off, JK,” you reply.

He tilts his head to the side - the predator, and you, its next meal. “That’s not what you were saying yesterday.”

You blush, bright scarlet taking over your features, and you roll your eyes, choosing to ignore his comment as you finish walking to your room.

“That’s what I thought,” he says behind you, and you flip him off over your shoulder, which makes him laugh that boyish laugh that does things to you.

You lean against the bedroom door once you get in, heart beating out of your chest, cursing power for going out, and cursing your brother for choosing to do a semester abroad.

It’s useless - the cursing, that is. Because it won’t change anything, and a small, tiny, minuscule part of you doesn’t want it to… so you curse yourself too for good measure.

By the time you finally emerge from your bedroom, the sun has fully set, and you’ve been using your phone as a flashlight. Jungkook is sitting in the living room, playing on his Switch, which apparently still has battery, and he glances at you as you approach.

“Want to play a game?” he asks, offering you a small smile. 

His features are lit from the screen, and he looks soft, his big eyes slightly crinkling at the corners. You hold in your own smile, instead cocking an eyebrow.

“So that I can beat your ass?” you say.

You watch as fire catches in his gaze, and you think he’s about to burn you to the spot. “Oh, you wanna play this game?” he says, his voice suddenly an octave lower.

A thrilled shiver runs down your spine, and you finish crossing the distance between you and him, sitting next to him. The leather couch is freezing, but you hold your wince in as you motion to the Switch.

“You think you can beat my ass?” he asks. 

“I know I can.”

He smirks, leaning back on the couch. He rests his head against the backrest, turning his head towards you. “Oh, peach,” he breathes out. “You’re cute when you try to be sassy.”

You widen your gaze. “Try to be sassy! I’m serious, I’ll beat your ass.”

“In any game?” he asks, and his eyes dip to your lips.

“Mario Kart,” you say, folding your arms on your chest.

You’re wearing a thick sweater, yet it doesn’t stop Jungkook from looking down, and you know exactly what he’s seeing - you, with your legs spread wide open for him like they were yesterday.

“Winner gets head,” he says, and you really think you’re about to catch fire.

“What about Tae?”

You can’t help the question. Because you don’t want to do that to your brother, but you’ve been unable to resist. You know shame and guilt will catch up to you one day - hell, Ria will never let you live it down if she learns what’s already happened. 

Jungkook shrugs. “I don’t think it’d make any difference after yesterday.”

“So you want me to choke on your dick?”

Night and you and Jeon Jungkook really don’t mix well, do they? Because you want him. You want him so bad right now you think you’re about to go insane, yet you know you shouldn’t.

“Fuck, peach.” He chuckles. “I want to know if you taste as good as you look.”

You wet your lips, and his eyes fall to your mouth, staying there as you say, “Well then, winner gets head,” you murmur, and you think he’s about to say ‘fuck it’ and jump on you.

You really do think he won’t be able to resist, and frankly, you don’t want him to. You feel yourself leaning forward, a moth to the flame, but Jungkook clears his throat, and his eyes shoot to yours.

“Deal.”

Jungkook sets up the game, and since you can’t play multiplayer thanks to the power being out and the TV not functioning, you settle on whoever gets first place first. Which you reckon is stupid - getting first place when you’re playing against the AI isn’t really an impressive feat. 

You shiver before Jungkook starts his race, and he pauses the game to glance at you. “Do you want to go to your room?”

You cock an eyebrow. “Too excited to play here?”

He rolls his eyes, though a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “No, you’re freezing, and I figured, since your room is the smallest, if we do like yesterday, we can probably keep it warm. Or at least warmer than here.” His last words are accompanied by a vague motion of his hand encompassing the living room, and you reckon he does have a point. 

“Sure then,” you say, nodding once. 

You get up from the couch, and Jungkook quickly follows you. He’s so close, looming behind you like he’s the predator about to pounce on its prey, and you shudder with delight, warmth pooling in your lower stomach.

You think he knows. You’re convinced he does, because a few minutes later, when you’re in your room with the candles on, sitting on your bed, he leans against the wall, abandoning his Switch to the side.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s so easy to get into your bed, peach,” he teases, and you startle when one of his large hands lightly grazes your thigh.

You swat it away without an ounce of regret, even though the spot he touched feels like it’s been hit by lightning. “Are you saying I’m easy?”

His mouth falls open and he looks surprised, even maybe a little apologetic. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

The wicked smile you offer him makes him chuckle as he realizes you were teasing him, and he grabs his Switch, his brow creasing a little with the frown that adorns his features from concentrating. It’s cute. You reckon it’s adorable, and you reckon you shouldn’t feel that way about your brother’s best friend, so you push the thought as far away as you can.

It’s not like Jungkook is the kind of guy you should feel endearment for. Because you know he’d only break your heart - he’s not the most popular guy on campus for nothing, after all.

“Ready?” he tells you.

You nod. “Good luck.”

He doesn’t need it. He gets first place, and he puts his Switch down on the bed as you realize what it means.

But you’re not going to give in so easily to him, will you?

“If I get first place, too, then this doesn’t count.”

He fake-glares at you, but he shrugs. “Alright. Let’s see if you can get first place.”

The way he says it is ominous, and you gulp, cheeks flushing with pink as you grab the Switch. As per always, you choose Peach as your character, which obviously earns you a snicker from Jungkook, but you don’t mind.

Maybe because you’re starting to like when he calls you peach.

You easily start the race in the first position, Peach racing and drifting ahead of the AI-controlled characters. Jungkook shifts next to you, attracting your attention, and you almost run into a wall, thankfully recovering quickly.

It doesn’t last long. Because next time he shifts, Jungkook brushes your thigh, and you just know he has a wicked smirk on his lips without having to look at him.

“Stop,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Or what?” he purrs, and you nudge him with an elbow. He just laughs, his hand now resting flatly on your thigh. “Got trouble focusing?”

“You’re cheating,” you whine, and you’re hit by a blue shell which puts you back a few positions.

“Am I?” he breathes out.

You sigh as he leans closer to you, and his nose brushes your cheek. Instinctively, you tilt your head to the side, and he chuckles as he pushes your hair off your shoulder, before leaning even closer.

His lips ghost on your neck, and your eyes flutter close, the Switch entirely forgotten in your hands.

“Jungkook…”

His tongue darts out, tasting you, and then he sucks a hickey on your skin. “What?”

“What are you doing?” you ask, voice barely over a whisper.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about my fingers inside of you,” he says, huskily. “All fucking day.” He nibbles at your earlobe, and you let out a breathy sound that makes him chuckle again. “Just been thinking about how you’d feel on my dick too.”

“Fuck.”

“I know.” He kisses your jaw, and then pulls away, sitting back against the wall. “I think you lost.”

You open your eyes, realizing that you’re still holding the Switch. He’s right – the AIs have finished while Jungkook was teasing you, and you stare at the screen for a few seconds before meeting his gaze.

He looks victorious, happy with himself. You want to wipe the smirk off his lips, so you put down the Switch on the bed, kneeling next to him.

“So you want me to suck your dick now?” you say, voice low, and you drag a hand on his thigh.

His tongue toys with his piercings. “Well, wasn’t that the deal?”

Emboldened, you straddle his lap, and you wrap a hand around his throat for support. You feel him swallow, and you lean closer, watching as the smirk slowly disappears from his lips.

“Was it?”

He gulps. He fucking gulps, and you can’t help but bite your lower lip. Even though the room is cold, you feel warm, a tingly sensation slowly taking over your entire body. His eyes fall to your mouth, and it takes him a few seconds before he says, “Yes.”

You have him right where you want him to be. “Damn, who knew Jeon Jungkook wanted me so bad?”

You lean in, brushing your lips on his, tongue darting out to play with his piercings. He doesn’t move, doesn’t do anything, though you can tell that he wants to touch you.

Maybe because you’re perched on his erection.

“Maybe Tae should have left before, mmh?” you continue. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so desperate…”

Jungkook grabs your waist, spinning you around dizzyingly until you’re on the bed and he’s hovering over you. “Enough,” he says, voice rough.

You don’t lose the smirk. “Or what?”

He wets his lips and then leans in. “I’m going to have so much fun wiping that smirk from your lips, peach.”

“Oh, will you now?” you fire back. “Better get into action then.”

One of his hands grabs the side of your head, tightening around your hair, and he forces you to turn your head to the side. He leaves wet kisses down your neck and then moves back up to your jaw. 

“If only Tae knew how much of a slut you are,” Jungkook says. “A pretty little slut.” Your smirk wavers as he pushes your legs apart with a knee. “I wonder, are you already soaked for me, mmh?”

“Why don’t you find out?”

He chuckles darkly. “Fucking hell, you really are driving me crazy.”

And even though you shouldn’t, even though Jungkook is your older brother’s best friend, even though you know guilt will eventually catch up to you, you say, “Then act on it, JK. Show me just how crazy I’m making you feel.”

His mouth collides with yours with force, and you immediately reach up, running your hands through his hair. He sucks on your tongue, earning a moan from you, and he grunts as you pull on his hair, the soft strands feeling like silk on your fingers.

He grinds into you, and you feel the powerful length of him rub against you. You know he’ll stretch you wide open, and you want him so bad it almost hurts.

You think you’ve wanted him for months already. Yesterday, you could blame it on the alcohol, on your inhibition being altered, but today… Today you know it’s always been about the tattoos, the piercings, and the shameless flirting.

You’ve been in Jungkook’s orbit ever since September – you were bound to crash into him someday.

Jungkook pulls away to meet your gaze. The weight of his body on yours feels right – better than Hoseok’s ever felt. The thought douses you, and you think Jungkook notices.

You know he does, because he says, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Your eyes flit around his features for a time – his nose, his mouth, the mole underneath his lips, his left eye, the scar on his cheek. They eventually settle on his lip piercings. 

“Are you getting insecure?” you tease. Because it’s all that you know how to do, the only way you can think of pushing the vulnerability away.

His tongue pokes at his cheek, and he presses another searing kiss on your lips. You can’t help but moan softly as he grinds again, and you instinctively wrap your legs around him, your arms circling his neck as well.

When he pulls away next, it’s to rest his forehead against yours. You breathe the same air for a few seconds, until he says, “Consent is hot, peach. Tell me you want it, or I’m stopping now.”

“I want it, JK,” you answer. “I want you to fuck me dumb until my room isn’t cold anymore.”

Jungkook straightens, kneeling between your legs. The candles cast flickering lights on his honey skin, and you watch unblinkingly as he takes off his shirt. 

He’s beautiful. You realized that yesterday, though you didn’t see him without the shirt. But he’s truly beautiful, all muscle and delicate waist, and his skin glows golden under the light of the candles. His brown nipples are perked prettily on his chest, and you want to touch him, want to drag your hands over every powerful line of his body.

“Shit, it’s fucking cold,” he says, and he quickly bends down again. 

You grab the blankets, pulling them on top of him. Without any trace of hesitation, you rest your hands on his back, and you lightly scratch him with your nails.

“Then we better get you warmed up,” you purr.

You don’t need to say it twice. Jungkook finds your mouth again, and he grunts as you dig your nails in his skin, before releasing the pressure. He then goes down to your jaw, down your neck, and he disappears under the covers, spreading your legs wide open with his large hands.

“Can I take these off?” his muffled voice says from beneath the blankets.

You pull enough on the covers to see his face, big doe eyes awaiting your consent. “Yes.”

He smirks wickedly. “Good.”

He’s quick to rid you of your pants. He leaves your panties on, his large hands caressing your thighs as he settles between your legs. You know he’s going to eat you out, and you think you’ll go insane. But nothing could have prepared you for how much of a tease he is.

Indeed, Jungkook presses light kisses on the insides of your thighs, mouth ghosting over where you need him the most, never once giving in to your desires. You’re soaking wet, painfully so by the time you groan, hand flying to his hair as you try to push his head where you want him.

He resists, chuckling darkly. “Growing a little impatient?”

“Eat me out,” you answer breathlessly. “Fuck.”

“Why should I?” He bites the inside of your thigh. “I love watching you squirm under me.”

You whine, yet this time, he licks the wet spot on your panties. Your thighs instinctively close, and he forces them wide open again.

“Don’t move,” he orders.

You try to obey. You really do, but when he pushes your panties to the side and sucks on your clit, your back arches off the bed. 

“Jungkook,” you breathe out. 

He doesn’t answer, too busy pushing his tongue inside you, parting your folds easily. You moan, and your grip on his hair tightens, though you keep him close. And he doesn’t seem like he wants to pull away. He starts making out with your pussy, squelching sounds coming from between your legs with every swipe of his tongue.

Soon, he gets bored of pushing his tongue in and out of you, and he moves back to your clit, circling it unforgivingly. He’s good, that much you’ll admit, and when he circles your entrance with one long finger, you moan again.

“You want it?” he asks, pulling away just long enough to voice the words.

He’s right back on your clit a fraction of a second later, and he sucks on it, flicking the sensitive bud with his tongue.

You feel the orgasm. It’s still far, but it’s on the horizon of your conscience, and you know it’ll hit good once it does. So you say, “Please, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t disappoint. He pushes his finger in, arches it to rub that sweet spot inside of you in time with the motions of his tongue on your clit. You grind in his face by reflex, and he grunts against you as you do so, resting his tongue flat on your clit so that you can pleasure yourself on his face.

He must know it’s not enough. Because after a few seconds of it, he starts moving his face from side to side, and the orgasm looms closer, aiming for you at the speed of light.

It hits when Jungkook pushes a second finger in, stretching you, and your walls clench hard against his digits, though he keeps on pushing them in and out of you in a steady rhythm. He sucks on your clit as you come, and you think you’ve moaned his name at least twice by the time he finally pulls away, drying his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Shit, peach,” he says, and you watch him through the ecstasy blurring your gaze. “You taste so fucking good.”

As if he wants to show you, he captures your mouth in a kiss. You taste yourself, but you’re too fucked out to be able to agree or disagree with him. All you can do is moan in his mouth, and he swallows it with a swipe of his tongue.

 And as he keeps kissing you, keeps branding himself in your mouth, you run your hand on his body, blood boiling from the sheer strength that you know he has. You reach for the band of his sweatpants, going lower to wrap your hand around his clothed length.

He’s big and heavy in your hand. 

Mostly, he’s not wearing any underwear. Or if he is, they are extremely loose, because you’re able to wrap your fingers around him even through the sweatpants. He bucks his hips, and you tighten your hold.

“Why don’t you put that pretty hand under the clothes, mmh?” he teases against your jaw, before he goes to nibbling on your ear. “I’ve been wanting to feel it wrapped around my cock.”

You don’t hesitate. You move back up to the band of his sweatpants, and you quickly push your hand in. You sigh in delight as you find he’s not wearing any underwear, fingers grazing over the velvety softness of his length. He hisses but doesn’t say anything as you test the waters, slowly grabbing his dick.

You lightly stroke him, and he bucks his hips, trying to fuck your hand. 

“Impatient, aren’t you?” you tease him, and he bites at your jaw.

“I’ve been wanting you for a really long time, peach.”

His words make your heart pause in your chest. Because you feel like there’s a deeper meaning, like it isn’t just shameless flirting in the heat of the action. It reminds you of the kiss yesterday, of the way he’d pulled you on his lap with no other intention than to kiss you.

And it makes you tighten your grip on his dick, and he grunts as you start jerking him off faster. But it’s awkward and clumsy with the sweatpants on, so you pull your hand out after a few seconds.

“Take these off,” you say, and he immediately kneels to obey, taking off his sweatpants quickly before resuming his position between your legs.

You’re not sure you were prepared for the sight of Jeon Jungkook fully naked in your bed. Though goosebumps prick at his skin from the cold, he still looks devilish, like he’s about to drag you to hell. His dick stands proud and tall, leaking precum, and the muscles of his thighs strain against his skin. 

He’s big. And not just his dick. Jungkook works out a lot, spends hours every week at the gym, and it truly shows in every angle of him. He looks sculpted in marble, a perfect body that accentuates the beauty of his features, that contradicts the innocence of his big eyes. 

Or maybe what truly contradicts it is the way he fists his cock, jerking off quickly as he eyes you. As he stares you down, and you feel ready to go all over again just from the sight of it.

“You have condoms?” he asks, and he grunts as he keeps jerking himself off.

You have half a thought to tell him to keep going, to come all over you, but you want it too much to resist. So you motion to your night table, saying, “Bottom drawer.”

He nods appreciatively, letting go of his cock so that he can bend and rummage through the drawer until he finds the condoms. He winces as he straightens, a tinfoil package in hand.

“Pretty sure that’s going to be too tight for me.”

You roll your eyes. “Condoms stretch, you know that?”

“Not enough,” he says, flicking your nose teasingly. “But I don’t think we should go raw, so that’ll do.”

Yet, the thought of going raw with him… You grab a hold of his wrist before he’s able to start unrolling the condom on his dick, and he cocks an eyebrow as he meets your gaze.

“Are you clean?”

You see him gulp. Indeed, his throat bobs, and he tilts his head to the side. “Got tested last week,” he admits. “But I really don’t think we should go raw.”

“I’m clean.”

“You’ve been fucking that other guy,” Jungkook says.

“We always wear protection.”

Jungkook purses his lips, taking a deep breath. “Honestly peach, I think I wouldn’t last a minute if I fucked you raw right now. Let me put the condom on.”

He says it in a stern way that makes you let go of his wrist. You feel bad, wondering if you were pushing a boundary, but Jungkook doesn’t seem like he notices. Indeed, he busies himself with putting the condom on, rolling it down his dick, and he winces in pain once it’s all the way down.

“That shit’s fucking tight,” he comments, and then he positions himself between your legs again. His large hands find your thighs, and he caresses up and down once before meeting your gaze. “Are you okay?” he asks, with no lust or desire or anything other than concern for you.

Because of course, he’d notice that you’re feeling bad.

“Sorry if I was insisting…” you say, vaguely motioning to his dick.

He looks down at himself. “About the condom?” He waits for you to nod your head before he says anything else. “Peach, don’t worry about it. I’m seriously close right now, which is really fucking weird, and I just want to be able to make you feel good, m’kay?” He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You melt, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. He chuckles, mumbling against your lips, “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but you really turn me on.”

You think you know what it is. You don’t think it’s about you, or about him. It’s rather about the feeling of doing something you shouldn’t be doing. Of doing something forbidden, because he’s Taehyung’s friend, and you’re Taehyung’s younger sister. 

But you don’t say it. Instead, you whisper, “Then fuck me good, Jungkook.”

He lets out a breathy sound as he leans his forehead against yours. There’s something so intimate about the gesture that you feel your heart soaring in your chest, and then he pushes your ruined panties to the side again so that he can nudge your entrance with his dick. 

“I will,” he promises, and then he pushes in. Just his tip, yet your mouth falls open at how large he already feels, and you tighten your hold on his neck. “Let me know if it hurts.”

Unforgivingly, Jungkook slams all the way in. You let out a broken sound, and he quickly captures your lips in a kiss as he stays right there, deep inside of you, unmoving so that you can adjust around him. And you know you have a lot of adjusting to do – he’s so large it burns, yet the pain feels good. Far too good, and you easily understand how Jungkook got the reputation that he has.

When Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, he slowly pulls out, before pushing all the way in again. Your walls suck him in, and he grunts, leaning his forehead against yours once more.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You feel so fucking good.”

Before you can reply, Jungkook establishes a steady rhythm. Nothing too crazy, but the drag of his dick on your walls is making you see stars, and you softly moan as he keeps moving, never once faltering.

“Moan for me, peach,” he breathlessly says. “I want to hear you fucking screaming my name.”

And then everything changes. Jungkook kneels between your thighs, pulls your legs against his chest, and starts pounding into you, bending down just enough to hit the sweetest spot inside of you. The change of rhythm and position makes you cry out, and your walls clench around him.

He echoes your cry with a moan of his own, something breathless that makes you want to look at him, to stay with him like this forever. So you open your eyes, and the sight of him is nearly enough to make you climax right then and there. 

Yet you don’t. You don’t come as you just watch him, watch the way he’s frowning, teeth digging in his lower lip once in a while. Beads of sweat quickly appear on his temples, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t falter, not even once, as he fucks you, and you feel that familiar knot forming in your lower stomach. 

You still don’t come. You keep it in – you don’t know why. You just enjoy the moment, refusing to rush towards its ending. Instead, when Jungkook pushes your legs open so that he can bend down and kiss you again, you welcome him in. You wrap your legs tight around him, keeping him close, and you scratch at his back with one hand, the other getting lost in his hair.

He grunts in your mouth, and he finally switches the rhythm, aiming for harder yet slower. It makes him reach new depths, and you can’t help but moan loudly as he keeps going, keeps ramming into you.

For the first time ever since you moved here, your bed slams into the wall from the force of Jungkook’s thrusts. It’s hot, especially as he moves to your neck, sucking hard. 

“Best fucking pussy,” he says in your ear. “Fuck.”

And then he straightens again, forcing you to let go of him, before pulling out. You whine at the sudden loss of sensation, but he just looks down at your pussy, licking his lips at the sight.

“You’re so fucking creamy and wet,” he tells you. “Look at my cock.”

You obey, looking down to where your bodies almost meet. His dick is indeed covered with your juices, and Jungkook gently pushes it between your folds, collecting even more juice. It’s sinful, inherently so, and you moan lightly as he rubs his dick on your clit.

“Think you’ll be able to come for me again?” he asks.

You look up, meeting his gaze. His lips are slightly parted as he breathes in and out quickly, and he smirks wickedly as you nod, once.

“Make me come,” you say, finding some defiance in you again. “You think you’ll be able to do that for me?”

His gaze widens, and then he chuckles. “Fuck peach.” He chuckles again, slightly shaking his head. “I’m going to get addicted to this fucking pussy of yours.”

You whine as he moves from between your legs, lying down on his back. You shoot him a look, and he motions at his body as if in invitation. It makes you laugh, yet you still climb on top of him, grinding on his dick.

His eyes go to your chest, and he gently grabs the hem of your shirt. Even though it’s still cold in your room – though warmer than before – you quickly take off your shirt, wincing as the cold air hits you head on. 

“So pretty,” Jungkook praises, and his hands reach up to push your breasts together. “So fucking pretty.”

You blush slightly under the praise, and you’re about to sink on his dick when he stops you. Your eyes go wide, and he motions to your panties.

“Take these off too. I want to see all of you.”

He says it with so much reverence for you that you can’t say no. You can only obey, sitting next to him just long enough so that you can remove the panties. They are soaked, and you throw them towards the dirty clothes hamper before climbing back on top of Jungkook.

Your gazes meet, and there’s a moment of you watching each other. You wish you could read his gaze, wish you could know what it means when he grabs your wrists to pull you down. Your eyes never disconnect from his, not even as one of his hands goes between your bodies so that he can align his dick with your entrance.

And then he pushes up, pushes in. As if you forgot just how big he is, you moan, eyes fluttering shut on instinct. Jungkook grunts, wrapping his arms around your waist, before saying, “Look at me.”

You do. You meet his gaze again and try to hold it as he starts jackhammering into you, the new angle so good you feel like you’re slowly slipping out of your body, soaring towards the sky outside. It’s so good all you can think about is him, his body, the way that he holds you so gently yet fucks you so rough. You rest one hand on the side of his face as he keeps fucking you, and when you can’t resist anymore, you hide your face in his neck.

“You’re such a good girl,” Jungkook says. “You take me so fucking well.” He grunts loudly, slamming to the hilt. You think he’s coming, but then he pulls almost all the way out, before slamming in again. “I never want to stop fucking you.”

You moan, and then your lips ghost on the shell of his ear. Though you’ve been struggling to speak, you say, “You’re so fucking big.”

“I know,” he breathes out. “Let me know if I hurt you.”

You whine. “Never. You’d never hurt me.”

His grip on you tightens, like he’s trying to say he wouldn’t hurt you, wouldn’t be able to, and then he’s fucking you again. The knot in your stomach comes back in full force, especially as he starts whispering filthy praises in your ear, growing more breathless with every swipe of his hips.

Just when you think you’ll come, Jungkook grunts, “I’m going to c-“

He never finishes his sentence, but the feeling of his dick twitching inside of you as he stills deep inside makes you fly over the edge, and your walls start spasming around his cock, milking his orgasm. It feels far too good, like you’ve reached nirvana, and it takes you so long to come down from your high that you believe you never will.

But you do. You do, and the first thing you notice is the cold. Though it’s a lot warmer than it was when you started this whole ordeal, you still shiver. 

Jungkook gently pulls a blanket over you, before circling your waist again. He doesn’t let go, not even as his dick, now soft, slips out of you. He lets you lay on top of him, ear against his chest so that you listen to his heartbeat, refusing to move.

You don’t want anything to pop this bubble of peace. Never. You just want to stay here with him, content breathing in the same air as him, until eternity flashes in front of you. Until you grow old and grey, to go to sleep forever. It’s a powerful feeling, though you like to tell yourself that it’s mutual. That his heart, beating softly in his chest, beats for you, in time with the beats of your own heart. You hope that he, too, doesn’t want to let go, though you reckon that this probably was just a hook-up to him, something he’ll be proud of, yet keep to himself. Because wouldn’t Jungkook be the kind of guy to be proud he bagged the little sister? You think he would.

And the thought scares you more than you would ever dare to admit.

Prev | Chapter 4.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

Is it me or is it hot in here? oof- Let me know what you thought of this chapter! I hope that smidge of angst at the end doesn't scare you too much...... bc trust me it scares me OOP

All rights reserved to@/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[anadiasmount]

hello again? - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: weddings and dates. feelings tested to their breaking point when one of you appears with a date. the night is young, is there still a chance to make things right even when it feels wrong?

wc: 4k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: HAD SOO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS!!! this wa smeant to be posted yesterday so I'm sorry for the small delay!! i love the drama and angst but fluffy ending as promised!!🤞🏻 like always hope you enjoy! 🤍

“i going to need five painkillers by the end of the night,” the bride, well, your best friend says. you laugh as you finish tucking in the last few bobby pins in her updo, making sure no flyaway or small bumps are seen, everything sleek and perfect. “i am too. or maybe many many many tequila shots, whichever is first available,” you joke. 

“you should be all set!” you say cheerfully with a full smile on your face, hands resting on her shoulders as she admires your work. “it looks absolutely perfect, thank you! you’re truly a life savor i was ready to cancel the whole wedding,” your friend's eyes glimmer in relief, having a huge weight lifted off her shoulders as you did her hair. the hairstylist had to cancel the day of due to having a family emergency, but refunding her money was the least she could do. 

all the bridesmaids surrounded you, complimenting the hair and most importantly the bride who could just be overall thankful and full of emotions. the photographer came in, taking individual and group pictures of everyone, and opening a bottle of champagne to start the day. 

there were still a couple of hours left so you did some touch-ups on hair and makeup, assuring to add some powder to set and spray a setting mist to ensure it would last all day, also being generous with the hair spray. you changed into the olive green-toned dress and the black pumps for the evening, the dress hitting the correct angle and not interfering with you walk. a simple gold bracelet and matching earrings completed the look, walking out and earning praises from your girlfriends. 

your heart began to race faster approaching the reception, suppressing any feelings away because you felt it wasn't the time. the wedding nerves were killing you but also seeing jude again was making you stress more than it shouldn't have. how he was. what he'd wear. if he was even going to be there?

with jude's schedule, it was hard to even make time for each other, being one of the main reasons for your messy breakup. your promotion to the law firm, move to spain, his recovery, media, games, and the always questioning each other's every move. it took a toll especially on you, crossing yourself every night knowing you couldn't do anything about it except long for him.

he was your every thought since then. if he missed you? how his life was going? if he also desired to get back together? as hard as it was you still felt more than love for him. the feeling in your tummy spreading as you remember the first times with him. the kiss, the date, the sex, the love, all of it.

"i've ordered your favorite, now tell me where i can help you," jude says kissing just below your ear returning from outside where he placed a call. you hand him your flashcards pulling out your notebook to read the different scenarios that match with the words.

"just so you know, before we start, i'll have you know i want something in return," jude whispers with a cheeky grin. "of course you do, what is it," you ask teasingly your arm wrapping around his shoulders waiting for his response.

"a date. i want you to go out on a date with me y/n..." jude says earning a silence from you. your nails rake against the back of his neck, "i'd love too. just so you know, depending how much you help me with determine the commitment to our first date..."

"i promise to be on my best behavior then."

"y/n! are you ready?" your friend waved her hand in the air with a confused look, you immediately snapped back into reality as you stepped out to the reception. "does everyone have their flowers? remember they go in your right hand!" the party organizer reminded you as you quickly got into line with the groomsmen.

it all happened quickly, you smiled at alex who quickly got into place arm wrapped with yours as you walked down the aisle as rehersed. the reception was absolutely beautiful. the tears, the vows, the laughter, the ceremony couldn't have been more perfect. you hated to admit but your eyes did search around for jude, and once you saw him, a sensation in you went numb.

there jude sat with a girl to his side who clearly hadn't read the dress code. placing kisses all over his hand and cheek, the love dazed in her eyes as she stared at jude. jude did reach over a few times and she giggled, making your weak heart wrench further.

jude on the other hand started to get impatient, especially with carla who wouldn't stop annoying him and trying to get his attention every few seconds. since breaking up with you he couldn't stand the PDA towards him or seeing it. jude quickly found it difficult since most of his teammates were married or in committed relationships.

it seemed like everywhere he went, there were reminders of you lingering around. the library you studied and where he took you on a desk in a quiet corner, the cafe where you'd get your morning coffee with him, even his training center, and the beranabeu where he hoped and waited you'd be there. he was miserable and driven to his breaking point.

jude began to regret bringing carla, as she got the wrong message and was all over him. the wedding you planned to go to together, where you were supposed to be his date, not her. but his stupid jealousy and talks from others were the fault he was here today. he was anticipating meeting your boyfriend or date, make the message clear he was going to be in the picture.

he hated to think of someone else when it wasn't him. it ticked him off and he knew he couldn't do anything about it because you weren't there anymore. but no one said he couldn't feel the way he felt. to hate the man who would forever make you laugh, or earn your love at the end of the day.

all those promises, the kisses, the hugs, the forever after you guys created was long gone. it hurt jude to the point where he had nightmares, not being able to sleep. it didn't help when they teased or made comments to him. or the fact a rumor went around you moved on and had someone else.

"carla, do you mind getting some drinks while i say hello to some friends?" jude kindly asks removing her hands from his chest. "anything for us jude! i'll wait for you by our table," she winks at him making jude internally cringe as she walks off.

he dabs up his friends, congratulating the groom and making small talk. "oye jude! que pasa chaval!? i didn't think you'd come," his shorter teammate brahim greeted him. "well i'm here aren't i? how are you? como estais?" jude mocked earning a chuckle from him.

all of his teammates suddenly surrounded him, laughing and discussing the plays for the game before, and the tactics for the upcoming one. jude looked around trying to look for you and carla. he fixed his suit every now and then, entranced with his friends. "who did you come with?" asked brahim, looking around for what presumably could be you.

"an old friend, her name is carla," jude winces at his friend's look. “i thought you were coming with y/n?” asks brahim earning a deep scowl from jude. “no we uh- we broke up a while ago,” jude squints his eyes, eyes finding you where you laughed loudly with your friends.

“but she’s here?”

“yeah but probably not alone,” jude retorted still convinced you were seeing someone and they were here. “what?” brahim laughs at him earning an eye roll from jude, “you can’t be serious! i’m pretty sure she’s single,” brahim says. “what are you playing at here jude?”

“nothing. i’m here for the wedding,” jude scoffs. “yeah sure you are,” brahim squints his eyes then looks around starting to walk off. “when you come to your senses, i’ll wait for you over there. remember not everything seems to be exactly as you seem jude…” he smacks his shoulders and walks off.

you’d probably been on your third glass of champagne by now, enjoying the presence with your girls as you spoke about the wedding and old throwbacks together. the speeches were made and the newly weds had their first dance already. anyone at the event center was dancing, talking, or drinking.

“i’ll be right back, i'm pissing myself,” you excuse yourself laughing at joke as you step away to do your business. you brought along your bag, washing your hands and touching your your makeup that had smudged a bit after the maid of honor speech. applying a fresh coat of lipstick and gloss you dabbed the excess off and headed outside.

you motion to your friends you we're head to the bar, them mouthing to bring shots of tequila and some peanuts to eat. “i don’t think we’ve met before,” a strange voice says behind you, you turn slowly, feeling your chest sink deeper as you place a small smile. “i'm carla,” the girl introduced herself, watching as you hesitated taking her hand.

“i feel like i’ve seen you around somewhere, i just can’t put a finger to it. you know huge town but small circle of friends, i was invited last minute to the wedding so,” carla spoke falsely making you want to walk out the conversation. you nodded along not really caring and wanting to go back. part of you hated the way you were treating her, but it was all the jealousy talking. she had done nothing to you besides show up here with him.

“i’m sorry but my friends are waiting for me,” you apologize letting the bar tender know where you were seated. you grabbed a fresh glass of champagne and standing up, grabbing your bag and walked away. “leaving so soon? i was hoping we could talk,” she approaches you again making you turn again but this time a bit agitated since you were catching on to what she was doing.

“like i said, my friends are waiting for me,” you shrug nonchalantly seeing her cock her head to the said and look you up and down. “well i didn’t catch your name,” she sarcastically says, the anger building in you slowly as she spoke and wanted to rub onto your face who she was here with.

“i’m y/n, but i feel like you know that already.”

“oh you’re the ex-girlfriend!” the girl enhanced the oh, with a fake smile. rage burned in your veins, needing to have resistance before you put her in her place. she had been on it the whole night, and she began to test your limits now. 

“you must be the new girlfriend!” you returned the fake smile and took a huge sip of the champagne. “almost couldn’t tell…” you shrugged looking for an escape route but landing eyes with the man you avoided the whole night. his mouth agape and wide eyes. 

he wore a black suit and white button up, leaving three buttons undone, hair styled and a fancy watch adorning his wrist. you felt tugged into the eye contact, needing and wanting to be the one next to him tonight. but instead here you were, giving your attention to the person you hated most. 

your jaw clenched, turning your attention to your glass where you swirled the drink. ���it’s a shame you guys didn’t work, but don’t worry! i’ll take better care of him,” she snarled. “jude spoke so much of you, honestly don’t see anything fascinating about you. have a goodnight.” 

you downed the drink in one go, feeling the burn in your throat as you placed the glass onto the empty table. jude frowned at your state, still overly confused and waiting for your date to appear. then it all clicked in his head, you didn’t bring anyone, you didn’t bring a date. the jealousy and anger disappearing in him slowly as he watched you sit down and sigh covering your head in your hands. 

“what did you say to her?” he questioned his date, seeing a smirk appear on her lips. jude turned back to you where you looked around in a trance, knowing immediately you felt the anxiety in you. 

“what had to be said. it’s all done.” 

“what’s done? what are you doing?” jude spit out dragging her to an empty hall where she just chuckled. “i told her what needed to be said. closed a chapter and now we’re starting a new one,” carla spoke crossing her arms. “i brought you here as a companion, not as my girlfriend or anything more. i think you’re getting the wrong message here,” jude said shaking his head.

“what do you mean jude?”

“i never asked you to do that, carla. you had no right to do that. i brought you here as a companion, not my girlfriend or anything else,” jude makes it clear to her seeing confusion flash into her eyes, now beaming with embarrassment. “i don't get it jude?”

“that i don’t intend to start a relationship with you. i’m sorry if i have given that impression but i can’t. what did you say to her?" jude demands his tone going softly as he walks towards her. "i thought i had said what needed to be said so we could finally be together!"

"y/n is too busy with herself. she got herself a promotion and is focused on her studies! she can't give you what you want and ask for jude! she's nothing compared to me," carla points to herself as she speaks all mumbled.

"and you can? what you did just now, what impression does that give to me carla? the way you're speaking about someone who you don't know, and never will?" jude defends you, deeming the need to even if you weren't there. she opens her mouth to speak but closes it immediately, knowing nothing could fix the situation. "i'm sorry-"

"save it. we both know you don't mean it," jude scoffs and walks off, back into the reception where you're nowhere to be found. he wandered off for a few minutes looking for you, even asking some people around him and they all gave him the same response that they hadn't seen you.

you had walked off back to your friends after a mini breakdown and questioning your life. beginning to blame yourself for everything when it shouldn't. it was both your faults but yet it hurt to hear her say nothing was fascinating about you. you shouldn't have let her words get to heart but what if they were true?

what if you were stuck in your own world and couldn't bother to make time for him? what if you didn't give enough attention especially when he most needed it? to be worried only in the moment and not live your life to its fullest? a couple shots and dancing later you found yourself seated at your table alone, watching you friends dance without their heels drunkly laughing off.

"where are you even going?" jude asks you, seeing how you packed every item away into suitcases. "clearly far way from you. i can't stand it anymore, you're never here jude!" you yell throwing your hand sin the air.

"you're never here and i'm tired of it jude. it's always some bullshit excuse and if you truly cared you'd see that but you don't. i'm not wanted here so the faster i leave, the better for us," you say zipping up the final case.

"you're being ridiculous," jude laughs in disbelief, approaching you but you warn him to not get near you. "this is what i mean! i can hardly recognize you nowadays! i'm done jude. done," you say loud and clear.

"leave. i never needed you anyway." you turn around facing him, a flash of regret filling in his eyes as you look at him in pure disbelief. "you did, or you wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for me."

you share your head at the memory, heading to the empty bar to return the empty glasses, feeling the need to clean up the mess and grab a small snack and final glass of champagne walking out to the outdoor balcony for a breath of air. "y/n?" you look up, not feeling sleepy or drunk anymore, standing up straight as jude approaches you.

was it possible to feel your heart shatter into millions of pieces over and over again? to feel the pit of your stomach turn at the sight of your ex-boyfriend? to feel utter pain when it was supposed to be a happy day? "jude..." you croak, looking away and biting the inside of your cheek.

he rests his forearm on the bar railing looking at you, trying to read you as you looked forward. silence fell upon you, but there was no denying that your hearts began to sprint faster at the closeness of the two of you. "did you need something?" you softly ask, taking a sip of the drink. "i wanted to talk," jude states firmly.

"are you sure? i don't think your girlfriend would like that," you attempt to joke but it earns you a frown from jude who just shakes his head. "i'm not sure she would, i'll just leave this here and go-" you try to walk away but he stops you, softly gripping your wrist refusing to let you go.

"she's not my girlfriend, she also left a while ago..." jude says, seeing you finally lock eyes with his. a deep laugh rumbles from his throat a painful smile stretching along his adorned face, "my first reaction would've been that too, if you had shown up here with someone else."

"i don't get it, why are you here then?" you feel the need to ask, get some sort of answer to relieve the pang in your chest. "why bother being here when you still brought her."

"because i was jealous, there i said it. i was so convinced you'd show up with someone who wasn't me. that i'd have to face reality and finally accept we're not longer together. that i can't call you mine anymore..." jude confesses, making your eyes glisten with new tears again.

"do you not know how it feels? to still be stuck in the past and longing for hope that one day you'll come back to me? having to face everyday with you on my mind anywhere i go? to have vivid dreams of you?" jude frowns, his once rough voice turning delicate as he brought a hand wiped your tears. "i can't stand it anymore."

"i thought this whole time before coming here, you were with someone else. everyone told me you had moved on and looked in a better place and all i could feel was bitterness. it wasn't fair, but i was so wrong y/n. so wrong to the point where i brought someone who could never love me like you did..." jude wiped his own tears away at the state of you.

you felt like you couldn't move, stuck in the same place as you heard his voice. the voice that one day soothed you to sleep, to calm you down, to look forward to at the end of the day. was it possible to feel this emotionless? to have no more tears left to cry? a sob emerged you, covering your face and attempting to control your breaths.

"who said i stopped? i may have an idea of what you feel like, let's be real. i don't know quite frankly who told you i moved on, but that's all lies. i can't do that knowing i still feel the same i did when i first met you," you sniffle taking a gulp and feeling the knot in your throat. "i thought i was fine and could handle seeing you, but my oh my was i incorrect... to see her with you, for her to come up to me and speak the way she did? for a second i thought 'where is my jude'?"

"i'm right here..."jude grabbed your hand and placed it on his heart, bringing it up to his jaw and resting his face on your palm. "don't you see it though? we're back where we ended off. do you possibly think we're good for each other when it seems like we're only hurting?" you question him.

"i've lived everyday thinking i wasn't enough or that i couldn't give you what you wanted jude," you shook your head in disappointment, "i want to fix things i do, but i'm scared that if we do this again, we're going to end up back here confessing our wrongs and tears. the way i felt the day we broke up doesn't compare to now..." you say, jude going quiet and looking down in defeat.

"i miss you so much jude," you choked on your own words, a fresh wave of tears overpowered the dry ones, holding onto jude upper arms as he leaned down and engulfed you into a deep hug. jude repeatedly kissed your head, choking on his own sobs as he repeated how much he missed you.

"i hope you know i'm still so madly in love with you y/n. i've never felt this way for anyone and it seems like its meant for you and you only,"j jude says making you giggle. "i'm serious pretty girl. i'm serious about you and us. i always was and i made the mistake of letting you go once, but i'm not here to do that again. i'm here to grant all of the promises we made," jude holds your face, seeing your red eyes and slightly smudged makeup, still more beautiful than ever.

"all of them?"

"every single one of them."

"i feel like we should talk more about it," you insist, seeing jude nod and agreeing with you. he tightens his grips on you waist leaning further down closer to you. "yes we do and we will, but right now i want to kiss you..." he asks and you grant. he sucks in a breath lips devouring yours after months, holding and kissing you how you liked and deserved.

you held onto his suit, tiptoeing up and deepening the kiss further, being able to taste his minty whisky scent. "come with me. we won't talk about everything tonight but i really just want to be here with you," jude says, sitting down on a small couch laid outside. you immediately follow and cuddle into him like you used to. you place a final peck onto his lips. "wait my drink-" jude holds your waist giving you a look with a playful smile.

"i think that's enough for tonight."

[hannieehaee]

Svt ot13 having to break up with their s/o for the sake of the group and their public image?

having to break up bc of their career (but not really)

content: established relationship, potential break up, public scrutiny, angst (no sad ending though ofc), etc.

wc: 804

a/n: i switched this up a bit to how they'd react to controversy about your relationship since i hate writing unresolved angst or angst with sad endings oops sorry </3

masterlist

seungcheol -

im sawrryyy his ass is far too stubborn to break up a relationship just bc his label wants him to. he also would not care what the tabloids are saying. he'd maybe consider it if it was affecting you, but ultimately he'd rather go on hiatus or just put up with the scrutiny rather than actually break up.

jeonghan -

he'd never admit to a relationship publicly no matter how damning the evidence was. would just completely ignore the subject and throw subtle lies about it. wouldnt even have to consider breaking up with you bc he wouldnt even acknowledge any backlash from your relationship at all lol.

joshua -

kinda odd to write about him considering ... anyways i think he would do the same as hannie and just not acknowledge the damage a relationship would do to his public image. i mean. if he finally found someone who he feels strongly enough about to let into his messy life why would he ever consider ending it? he'd feel affected by it, though, knowing the scrutiny would also fall on you.

jun -

he might bring up the controversy very subtly during a live or maybe one day straight up make a statement about it but never actually let it go further than that. he seems super private with his family, so if your relationship were to begin causing public uproar he'd just tighten the reigns on his privacy a bit more.

soonyoung -

just annoyed and frustrated about it. would try and subtly scold the media (and carats a little bit) about it on one of his private weverse lives. if the situation got too intense, though, he'd just opt for hybe putting out some type of statement denying the relationship in order to protect you from public opinion as much as be could.

wonwoo -

he's so nice and understanding and never blames fans for anything (even though sometimes he 100% should *cough* the mobbings *cough*) so he wouldnt blame anyone for their emotions towards his relationship. would consult with you and give you an out if you felt like you couldnt handle the situation (even though it absolutely broke his heart to even consider breaking up) but when you denied him he'd simply opt for putting up with the negative press and just continue to love you as privately as he could.

jihoon -

only one who gives me the vibes that he might actually try and break up with you just bc he loves you too much to put you through all this unwarranted hate all bc of his public image. butttt would not survive the heartbreak he felt at breaking up with someone he clearly still loved and would run back into your arms within the month.

seokmin -

just complete emotional turmoil. he wouldnt wanna break up, but if you did, he'd do it just for you. he also wouldnt wanna deny your relationship bc he'd feel like that'd be disrespectful to you. anddd he also would not wanna confirm your relationship since that'd just add extra hate to you. he'd opt to do anything you chose, making you his main priority.

mingyu -

his ass would NAWWWTTT care if people thought badly of him being in a relationship. he'd keep it as private as he could, but would never even entertain the thought of breaking up when dispatch suddenly got a hold of your relationship and the situation blew up. very nonchalant about it all, feeling too confident in your love to think anything could ever drive the two of you apart.

minghao -

gives me the vibes that he might just opt for making the usual statement idols always make of 'x idol is seeing x idol with warm feelings' or whatever the fuck they usually write. other than that he would still keep the relationship very on the down low and never allow public opinion to affect his emotions towards you.

seungkwan -

would take a very logical and professional approach to it by immediately denying any relationship and claiming the two of you are friends lol. he's so friendly with everyone it'd be very believable. wouldn't have it in him to break up a personal relationship over his career thoughhhh he's just too full of love to do that.

vernon -

yet another member to just absolutely ignore anything going on and straight up not care for any public reaction about it. wanna send trucks? wanna write articles about him? he's not even gonna see them.

chan -

would feel insanelyyyy bad that he ever put you in the limelight in such a negative light. would also feel embarrassed and annoyed at the fact that merely being with you would become such a scandal. in the end, he'd also just opt to ignoring the situation and denying the relationship in order to preserve your peace.

[reidsdimples]

When Everything Changed | Part 1

Enemies to lovers | Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Angst 🖤

Spencer isn't a fan of the BAU's new genius (you).

You didn’t have a particular like or dislike for Dr. Spencer Reid. For the most part you felt fairly neutral. He was a colleague, one of the team. The two of you weren’t super close but Garcia says that’s because there’s not enough space in the BAU for two genius’s.

He didn’t seem to care for it when you blurted out facts that Hotch asked for or knew a statistic down to a closer decimal than he did.

“If you would do your reading on rapidly updated internet databases instead of printed out media, your statistics wouldn’t be a month behind,” you sniped at him after he sassed you.

Hotch gave you a pointed look.

“He said 13.6% and you said 13.2%- that discrepancy is not one I’m concerned with. 13% would have been fine,” Hotch said and looked back down at the case file before him.

The jet hummed softly, Rossi raising his eyebrow at Reid who seemed to have something to say.

“Reid what do you know about sharp force injuries to the ears?”

“The ear canal is a sensitive and vulnerable part of the body, often associated with communication and hearing. The criminal may have chosen this specific method as a way to assert control or power over their victims by targeting a vital sensory organ. Depending on if he wound it into the brain slowly, it may have been a sadistic killing,” he answers rapidly.

“You think this was torture? It looks more like an instant death,” you answer.

“Ancient torture methods focus on the ears as a way to deal pain by shattering the ear drums and rendering the victim deaf. Given the amount of blood in the right ear I’d say it was done antimortem as a form of torture while the pick through the left ear was the killing blow. He even angled this ice pick upward and into the brain,” he runs his long fingers over the crime scene photos to show you.

You’re almost in awe that he was able to deduce that before seeing the bodies but you say nothing.

"The first two only had an ice pick to the ear which killed them," Hotch said.

"Maybe he hadn't learned yet that he enjoys the torture," Rossi adds.

“Either way this unsub has a fascination with ears,” JJ says.

“Maybe he’s deaf himself?” Morgan chimes in.

You accidentally kick Reid’s ankle while adjusting in your seat across from him, he snaps his head up and narrows his eyes on you.

The conversation spurs on all the way to Portland, Maine where the smell of saltwater invades your nostrils as you step off of the plane.

-

The following day you’re partnered up with Reid to sort through a series of clues left by the unsub. Two more bodies dropped in twenty-four hours, leaving 8 riddles on 8 bodies that needed to be decoded.

“I can take care of this myself,” Reid argues with Hotch.

“I know you can but an extra set of eyes can’t hurt, we’re on a time crunch. Monica Dentz went missing four hours ago. If he sticks to his MO, she only has ten hours left,” with that Hotch exited the room.

Reid rather aggressively tossed his should bag on the table before snatching up copies of the riddles from the table and pinning them to the board.

“I’m not trying to get in your way,” you sigh. You watch him organize the riddles on the board.

“Try harder,” he snaps.

You scoff but your eyes scan over his tall frame as he puts the board together. Nope.

“I think the first one is talking about a ship, same with the third and fifth,” Reid says as he flips a pen in his fingers.

“If you’re taking it literally. ‘Alone in the tide’ could just be a metaphor for loneliness,” you point out.

“And what do you make of ‘the bow takes charge, towards the arctic waters where she sleeps’?” He asks. He’s less condescending this time, more curious but still annoyed.

“That.. that’s probably about a boat,” you accept.

“If you look at these as a story, where you read them from the first lines strung together and then the second lines… it reads like a book. I think someone he loved died at sea,” it seems to click for Reid and he starts scribbling on the board. “And here… I think this means there was an explosion. A boiler room maybe?” He’s moving around the two boards quickly, talking fast, pushing his hair back from his eyes. For a moment you almost find it adorable.

“Maybe he went deaf in a boating accident that killed someone he loves…” you add, standing to look at the board.

He calls Garcia and then Hotch.

“He’s killing them on a boat, it’s symbolic for him. We think he was a victim of a boating accident and lost his hearing…” he continues to speak but you become distracted.

Why were you becoming attracted to him? He was never ugly but you had never noticed him this way before. He was too busy infuriating you with his attitude. Yet he was growing on you in the last few months. Weird.

“Now what?” You ask him.

“We wait for them to get names. Hotch will tell us where he needs us next, we’ll continue to work the profile from here,” he places the pen in his mouth and flips through the victim profiles again.

“Don’t you have an eidetic memory? Why do you keep going through those…”

“Helps me deduce the information,” he shrugs dismissively.

You frown.

“Ya’know,” you sigh and pull up a chair across from him. “I have no intention of overshadowing you.” He glances up from the file.

“So why do you go out of your way to correct or narrow down my answers?”

It’s a perfectly reasonable question. You didn’t know why you did it.

“Habit? I’m used to being the smartest person in the room,” you admit.

“Right,” is his only response as he opens another file.

You don’t know what else to say so you take a look at the profile the team has built.

2 hours pass in awkward silence before Hotch calls the two of you to meet them at the east harbor for a raid of the now named suspects boat.

Once you arrive, Morgan and Prentiss greet you while you’re fumbling with your vest. After a moment and a frustrated sigh, Reid steps behind you.

“Here the strap is twisted up,” he says.

His fingertips graze your hip where your shirt is riding up. Your breathing hitches but you try not to appear affected.

“Thanks,” you tell him.

“Sounds like a plan,” you answer Prentiss who had been explaining the entry points.

“The two of you friends now?” Morgan asks Reid.

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Reid answers stoically with his hand propped on his gun. You scoff and shake your head.

“What?” Reid turns his head to you.

“Nothing, let’s just do this,” you snipe. Morgan and JJ exchange an concerned glance.

The man was impossible. You understood if he had walls up, if he didn’t like new people or the competition. But he’s not even trying to welcome you in the slightest.

The scent of ocean air and dead fish fills your nostrils as you follow behind Morgan down the dock. Reid and JJ creep onto the stern of the considerable sized old yacht while Hotch, Rossi, and Prentiss took the bow. You and Morgan are entering through the main entrance of the cabin with deadly stealth.

You hear varying 'clears' come from your coworkers before you point Morgan to a hatch leading below deck. You think you can hear shuffling of some kind happening but it's hard to tell with the sway of the ship.

The rest of the team enter behind you but its Morgan who insists on jumping down first, forgoing the small ladder.

"Randy Lional, put your hands up," he's shouting as you drop down behind him.

You raise your gun as you take in the scene, someone else drops down behind you, it's Reid based on the silver revolver in your line of sight.

The man is crouched over an unconscious Monica Dentz, one of her ears bleeding and her wrists bound. You think she's still breathing.

"Put the gun and the ice pick down man," Morgan yells and then Hotch is next to him.

"He can't hear you," you tell Morgan when Randy drags the barrel of the gun over the girl's half naked body as though he's lost in a trance. His burly back is turned to the team and the situation is so unique that none of you know how to intercept him.

You push between Morgan and Hotch to slowly approach him. It's Reid who grabs your arm and shakes his head, something like concern playing in his hazel eyes. You take your arm from him and turn to the unsub.

An idea strikes you so you pull off your earring and toss it in his direction, it slides across the floor into his line of sight, causing him to jump up and turn around.

The man's eyes are wide, dark bags below them. He's frantic as he shakily points the gun at you. His stringy strands of hair are oiled to his chubby aged face and he appears to be shocked by the FBI's presence. He's aiming the gun at Monica's head.

"Put the gun down," Morgan yells again, gesturing at the weapon.

You begin to use sign language, after putting your own gun back in its holster. Reid steps closer to you, his revolver still raised.

"I know that you're hurting. I know what happened that night. I'm so sorry about your parents," you begin to sign. "But torturing others this way is not going to change what happened to you."

Reid glances at you, seemingly impressed by your use of ASL.

"She's trying to talk him down," Reid informs the rest of the team.

"Please, drop the weapons," you sign to him again. He looks more sad, defeated than before and you're hopeful.

"Does he profile as suicidal?" You ask the team.

"Yes," Hotch answers. You swallow hard.

Just then Monica stirs awake and begins screaming against the cloth gag in her mouth.

What happens next feels like slow motion, you don't even know how to process it.

Randy raises the gun and fires at you, three shots in rapid succession before you can blink. And then Reid has stepped nearly completely in front of you, firing two shots along with a barrage of shots from the team.

You hit the floor in a daze and chaos ensues.

"We need medics!" Prentiss is screaming into her ear piece.

"Two agents hit, one victim, subject deceased," Hotch is speaking into his mic as he rushes over to you.

The blinding pain is in your shoulder, the blood hot as it oozes out of you.

"Reid," you search for him.

"Ah, I'm okay. I'm okay," he doesn't sound okay.

And then you see it, the wound in his neck, the blood pouring from his mouth. Reid is grabbing at his throat for the wound, blood coating his hand. Crimsons running down his slender wrist and long fingers. Then Morgan is applying pressure to the wound while JJ is tending to you.

You wince in pain as she is pressing down on your shoulder. You can physically feel the metal bullet sitting inside of your body, sending pain radiating in all directions. People are talking all around you, JJ's eyes are full of tears as she tries to get you to stay conscious.

"Come on kid, look at me," Morgan is pleading with Reid. no no no.

"Why did you..." you try to ask why he stepped in front of you but the room begins to spin. You start to see double and you don't know if its you or Reid groaning in pain. Reid's eyes are rolling back in his head and he's starting to go limp in Morgans lap.

Reid took a bullet for you, and it may kill him. What if he dies thinking you hate him?

A blur of paramedics enter the space before you lose consciousness murmuring Reid's name.

A/N- Hope you guys love this. I'm already working on the 'lovers' part.

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 5. first date

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You are left picking up the pieces from the events of the carnival night, in more ways than you expected.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, mutual pining, jealousy, domestic violence and implied SA (nothing descriptive), mental and physical abuse, bar-fight type violence

WC: 6.8K

A/N: This is a tough chapter, please heed the warnings and if anyone thinks I need to add anything, please let me know

Series Masterlist

You stared listlessly at the blades of the ceiling fan swirling above your head as you listened to the town waking up outside your window. It was getting harder and harder to force yourself out of bed, the all too familiar feeling of emptiness weighing you down with each passing day.

It's been almost a week since that night at the carnival. Almost a week since you've seen him. You wished you could remember what his lips felt like, but whenever you thought about that night, all you could see was the look on his face when you finally told him the truth. His hands dropped from your waist like you had burned him. His eyes hardened like you had slapped him. And before you even had a chance to explain, he was gone.

It was a miracle you were able to make it home, tears clouding your vision as you drove down the quiet streets back to your little apartment, all alone. At first, you had tried to convince yourself that it was for the best, but after an hour, you weren't so sure anymore. So, you picked up your phone and called him. You weren't even sure what you would say, but you needed to try to make things right. It didn't end up mattering, anyway. He never answered, which should have been telling for what was to come, but you still persisted.

You called him two more times - once more that night, and again the following morning, but still he ignored your calls. Now, you stared at your phone, looking at the unanswered texts you sent, hoping he would be tempted to respond that way, but there was no such luck.

Please call me back, I want to explain.

I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you.

Where are you?

The last text was sent Monday afternoon when he didn't show up at the diner for the first time since you started. Even Betty looked shocked, but you wouldn't tell her what happened. How could you?

The rest of the week was the same. Every day you glanced up at the door, hoping to see his familiar frame walk through, hoping that maybe enough time would have passed for him to give you another chance, but all week he was missing.

You overheard Tommy talking with Maria in the kitchen, asking if she had seen his brother. Was he doing this to make things worse for you? Inevitably, the truth would come out if he kept this up, and you would be left to deal with the onslaught of questions. Was he purposely trying to hurt you?

Little did you know, later that evening you would receive your answer.

It was Friday, and you were on the schedule for the dinner shift. At least you had the luxury of laying in bed, sulking with only your overpowering guilt and the enormous stuffed penguin he won for you to keep you company. You stared at it now, wondering why you didn't shove it in your closet so you wouldn't have to look at it every time you walked into your room. But you knew the answer. You were punishing yourself for being selfish, for being dishonest, for being a horrible person who deserved what she got.

Eventually around noon, you pulled yourself out of bed, hunger getting the best of you and the smells from the pizza place downstairs didn't help matters.

You got a reminder on your calendar that you were supposed to go to book club tomorrow night. Aside from work, you hadn't left your apartment all week. You had to cancel. There was no way you would be able to go through with it. You could barely muster the energy to shower, and the only reason you managed to drag yourself to work was for the money. No longer did you have anything to look forward to now that Joel made his feelings crystal clear with his absence. What little enjoyment you had in this new life was long gone.

Deciding that you should take a short walk to try to clear your head and grab a treat from the coffee shop, you tugged on jeans and a T-shirt before pulling your hair back and grabbing a pair of sunglasses before heading down the stairs. At least with the sunglasses you could avoid eye contact.

Right as you were locking up after yourself, you heard your name. You grimaced but turned around and forced a smile when you saw Hailey approaching with a friendly wave.

"Hey," you said, giving her a small hug when she got closer.

"I haven't seen you all week! Have you been sick or something?"

"Something like that," you mumbled, adjusting your sunglasses.

"I've been trying to catch you, I wanted to show you some pics from last weekend. You were there, right? I thought I saw you tagged in something," Hailey said as she scrolled on her phone, presumably looking for pictures she took from the carnival.

"Tagged?" you repeated, confused. She nodded and held up her phone, showing you the Facebook app. You shook your head and frowned.

"I'm not on Facebook," you said to her. She pursed her lips and swiped through a few images before finally stopping on a video. It was terrible lighting and the sound was awful but you could clearly see the yellow dress you were wearing as you watched Joel play the target game. Even from the shitty video you could see the obvious attraction in your eyes as you gazed at him. A chorus of cheers followed after each pull of the trigger, but your eyes remained glued to Joel's back, frozen in place.

"Isn't this your page?" she asked, clicking on your name and showing you the profile. You took the phone from her with shaky hands, scrolling through the information and pictures listed. It was you. Everything listed was correct, but you never created this page. You wouldn't have been that stupid. Then the realization hit you and your blood ran cold.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and went back to the video, noticing at the top the location was tagged along with you, Joel, and a few other people from town you barely recognized.

"Oh my god," you whispered to yourself.

"What's wrong?"

You handed her the phone back, tears burning the back of your eyes.

"I'm sorry, I gotta go," you said, turning back around to fumble with your keys. You raced up the stairs, making sure both doors were double locked before hiding in your bedroom, your phone clutched in your hand as you looked up your fake profile, trying to learn more but you already knew.

Patrick was coming for you.

You were downright terrified to work that night. If he found you, and it was just a matter of time at this point, he most likely would wait until you were alone. He would wait until he could follow you, find out where you lived, and only then would he make his move. The idea of walking home at night seemed like a really bad idea, so even though it was a ten minute walk, you chose instead to drape yourself in an oversized hoodie with sunglasses and jog to your car, glancing nervously around the parking lot for any suspicious vehicles before sliding into the driver's seat.

Anxiously, you checked your mirrors the whole short drive to the diner, but it didn't appear that you were being followed. You knew once you got to work, you would be safe. Being around other people was your only defense. Then you had the weekend off, so you could hide and figure out what to do. All you had to do was get through your shift.

The diner was busy. It was Friday, and the carnival was no longer in town, so people were going back to their regular routines. Many people in town tended to stop by for dinner before the only movie theater in town ran the 7pm showing, so that typically meant a 5:30 rush.

Fortunately, you were busy. It helped keep your mind off everything: Patrick. Joel. The mess you created everywhere you went. It was all pushed to the back of your mind as you ran around the dining room, dropping off food and wiping down tables. You hadn't even noticed the familiar voice talking to Maria at the hostess stand, even though you had been yearning to hear it all week.

You were filling the ice when you heard him somewhere behind you, and you were so relieved you almost cried. Finally, he came back and you could explain to him what happened. He was the sheriff, after all. And you trusted him. If anybody might be able to do something to help you, it was him.

You turned around with a deep breath, then froze at what you saw. Joel was seated at one of the booths, not at the counter like he typically would be, and gazing adoringly across the table at Nikki.

He was on a date.

You thought you were going to be sick. You clutched your stomach and turned away, blinking back the tears but before you could go hide in the back, Maria spotted you.

"Do you mind taking care of Joel? Gina's got too many tables," she asked. You thought you would faint the way all the blood drained from your face. All you could manage to do was nod, and she hurried back to the hostess stand, completely oblivious.

You forced your feet to move, keeping your gaze down as you pulled out your pad of paper and pen with shaky fingers and forcing a weak smile when you approached their table. You weren't sure if his intention was to have you wait on him, or if he just wanted you to see him with another woman, or maybe he didn't care about you at all. But his reaction gave you nothing to work with since he barely spared you a glance when you greeted them. However, Nikki recognized you and gave you a warm smile.

"I don't think I knew you worked here!" she said, and when Joel realized you knew each other, he finally seemed to react. A muscle in his jaw twitched when he dragged his gaze up to look between the two of you, no playfulness or warmth to be found in his eyes. You swallowed and tried to focus on your job, ignoring Joel as best you could, but Nikki spoke before you could even get the specials out.

"We know each other from book club," she explained to him before turning back to you. "Will I be seeing you tomorrow?"

"Oh, um, no I don't think so," you said nervously, feeling Joel's eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

"Oh, that's a shame! We had such a fun time last month," she said with a giggle. You had to admit, they made a good match. She was beautiful and seemed very nice. You should be happy for them both, but you knew the moment you got home, you would collapse into tears.

"You should go," Joel said gruffly, and it took all the strength you had to make yourself look at him. He no longer gave you the same look he used to, and it broke your heart. He looked at you like a stranger, like he barely even knew you. It felt more painful than anything Patrick ever did.

"Maybe I will," you said, tearing your eyes away from him. Before Nikki could say anything else, you rambled off the specials, your mind on autopilot. You ripped a hole in your paper with your pen when you saw out of the corner of your eye Nikki link her fingers with his across the table. You mumbled something about being right back and hurried off, tears welling up in your eyes.

This was too cruel. You endured a lot in your time, but this? This was too much.

As you filled up their drinks and flicked away a stray tear from the corner of your eye, you heard Joel's voice clear his throat behind you at the counter. You turned around, drinks in hand. He was leaning over the counter, trying to stay hidden from sight.

"I didn't mean for -"

"It's fine," you said coldly, staring him down. He blinked at you, and for the first time you saw a shred of guilt pass over his features. When he didn't say anything else, you shifted your weight and glanced over his shoulder at Nikki.

"You better go. Your date's looking for you."

His gaze fell and he pinched the bridge of his nose, about to say something else but you didn't let him. You could only take so much. By the time he looked back up, you were halfway across the dining room, setting down their drinks and giving your attention to your other tables.

You drove home that night with hot tears finally trailing down your cheeks, your mind completely fixated now on Joel and Nikki. It hurt how he moved on so quickly. Maybe you misread him. Maybe he was just looking for a conquest and nothing more. What else would possibly explain it? For the first time, you wondered if you were the one better off after all.

Would he kiss her goodnight? Would they have sex?

Did they already have sex?

You parked your car and hunched over the steering wheel, letting the tears flow freely now that you were home and no one was around.

A sharp rap on your window pulled you out of your misery, making you jump. You wiped your cheeks before turning to look, your eyes widening and your heart immediately getting stuck in your throat.

Patrick just shook his head in disappointment, then beckoned you out of the car with his index finger. With a shaky hand, you reached for the door handle and swung it open, sliding out of the seat and taking a deep breath. Just when you thought the day couldn't get any worse.

"When are you gonna learn I'm never gonna give up on us, babe?"

After he left, you laid there in your bed, staring up at the fan swirling above you once again and the smell of that fucking cologne permeating your sheets. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. You couldn't help but think you brought this on yourself. Maybe if you didn't go to that fucking carnival in the first place, none of this would have happened. Joel wouldn't be icing you out, Patrick wouldn't have found you, and you wouldn't be cleaning up the mess he left between your legs while you sobbed over the bathroom sink. Every time this happened you were eternally grateful for your oldest cousin back home who took you to get birth control at the local clinic behind your husband's back. If not for her, who knows how much worse things would be.

But here you were, finding yourself slipping right back into the same situation you were trying to escape. This time, he promised to go to AA and NA. He promised he would try to get better. Part of you wanted to believe him, because what other choice did you have? He would always find you. And it was encouraging he didn't insist on staying with you at your apartment, nor did he hit you. This time.

Just as you were contemplating whether or not to flee again, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. You sighed and made your way over, your body and mind exhausted, the events of the day catching up with you. You lifted your phone up and froze. Blinking a few times, you sunk down into your mattress and opened up the message.

Joel: I'm sorry about earlier

You sniffled and stared at your phone, having no idea what to say. Had he just texted you the day before, or even that morning, maybe things would have been different. You decided to ignore it for now, turning your phone on silent before crawling under the covers and trying to block out the smell.

After a fitful night's sleep, the next morning you eagerly checked your phone, hoping for another text from Joel, but you only had one from Hailey. Disappointed, you opened it up, reading her message about book club that night and who was hosting. You reluctantly agreed to go at the last minute, figuring you would at least be around people for a little while, meaning you would be safe. Besides, you wouldn't be able to avoid Nikki forever. The town was too small and you were sure everyone was already buzzing about their date last night.

You swiped back to your message with Joel, staring at the words again, wondering if you should respond. What if he wasn't alone? What if Nikki spent the night with him? You put your phone down, choosing once and for all not to reply before burying yourself under the covers again.

Going to the book club meeting was a mistake. You politely declined a glass of wine, and you regretted it about twenty minutes in when Nikki began telling the whole group about her date with Joel.

You sat there, listening to every word, each one like a stab to the heart while she told all the ladies about how chivalrous he was when he picked her up, what they talked about, what movie they saw. Every minute bringing you closer and closer to tears.

That could have been you if you had just been honest with him, or maybe just stood up for yourself once in a while instead of letting Patrick steamroll you every chance he got for the past five years.

A couple women glanced your way as Nikki spoke. You had to imagine some people saw you together at the carnival. Towards the end of the night, the heat between you was palpable, but you were pretty certain nobody saw you kiss. You did your best to look indifferent, to act like Joel was just a friend and there were no feelings there, but it was hard. At one point, Hailey asked if you were okay and you had to lie about having a headache, hoping it would explain your quiet behavior.

"It was a little strange at the end of the night, though," Nikki said, finally wrapping up her story.

"How so?" one of the older ladies asked, and you could see the flush creeping up her neck before she even spoke.

"Well, he didn't seem to take my hint about coming inside for coffee when he dropped me off. Or maybe he just didn't want to..." she said, trailing off.

"Oh please, who wouldn't want to," Hailey chimed in, making Nikki giggle. "He's probably just so rusty he wouldn't know it unless you made him a big neon sign that said 'Joel, sleep with me'."

That caused a ripple of laughter amongst the women and you took a steadying breath, already planning on announcing you needed to leave early due to your fake headache when Nikki added one more piece of interesting information.

"Yeah, maybe. But even saying good night, it felt like he didn't really want to kiss me."

"But you did kiss?" another woman asked, and she nodded.

"It was... not what I expected," she admitted, pink dusting her cheeks as she took another sip of wine for courage.

"What do you mean?" Hailey asked, and you silently thanked her for being so nosy so you didn't have to ask the same questions that kept popping up in your head.

"I don't know, I thought he would be a better kisser. It was very... boring. Like, there was no passion or excitement."

All the other women murmured to themselves in shock while you remained perfectly silent. That was most definitely not the experience you had kissing Joel.

Fortunately, they moved on from the topic of Joel shortly thereafter, and you decided to force yourself to stay until the end. Given how horrible the whole week had been, you allowed yourself to feel a little bit of hope after Nikki's comment.

He didn't want to kiss her. Maybe you could still figure out a way to fix this.

Joel groaned as he rolled over in bed and snatched his phone off the charger, glaring at the device and mentally cursing whoever texted him so fucking early on a Sunday. Then his sleep addled brain jolted awake and his heart skipped a beat, wondering if your name was going to pop up on his phone again, but he was met with instant disappointment when he saw Nikki's name instead.

That couldn't be a good sign.

He should be happy to see that Nikki texted him. Deciding to blame it on the early hour and nothing more, he moved past it and set his phone back down to read the message later. He closed his eyes and sighed. Now that he was awake, all of the turmoil from the past week came rushing back to him, always plaguing his every waking moment.

He hadn't realized how much you were hurting until he finally saw you at the diner that night. It was one of his biggest regrets, taking Nikki there. He knew what he was doing, but he did it anyway, and it hurt you. But you didn't deserve that. Even though you nearly shattered his world with your secret, you still didn't deserve it.

His intention was to try to prove he wasn't as hung up on you as he really was. That it was fine that you were married. That he could move on.

It was a little cruel to go right to Nikki. He knew she had feelings for him, and he took advantage of it, all to prove he was over you. And it wasn't even true. He couldn't stop thinking about you. And now he was going to end up hurting two women, just to protect his ego.

So he decided he would try to make it work with Nikki. She was a pretty girl, she was nice and kind. Maybe, in time, he could develop real feelings for her. But when she kissed him the other night, he felt absolutely nothing. Not like what he felt when he kissed you. And that worried him.

If he knew now what he would be missing out on, could he really be happy with someone who didn't give him a fraction of what he felt with you?

He wished more than ever that he didn't let his emotions get the best of him that night. Maybe you had a reasonable explanation. He couldn't fathom what that could be, but he should have at least heard you out. You wouldn't have intentionally hurt him. In fact, you tried to tell him, in your own way. You constantly pushed him away, kept him at arms length, but he just kept coming back for more. Was it even your fault? Did he pressure you so much that you were forced to share something you weren't ready to share?

Letting his desperation win, he picked up his phone again and checked to see if you maybe texted him back in the last five minutes. When he quickly determined you didn't, he opened up Facebook. Maybe you replied to his private message on there.

Joel didn't get nervous often. He had a steady hand, a level head, and had a knack for seeing two steps ahead. He typically had a calming presence, which fit well for his job when he was able to de-escalate situations naturally and with ease.

But today, he was nervous.

For whatever reason, you didn't respond to his text message the other night, but you did decide to respond to the Facebook message he sent at an ungodly hour in the hopes he could get through to you some other way. And by some miracle, it worked.

You had agreed to meet him for coffee and talk. It was unexpected, he thought he would have to try harder, but you were very agreeable to seeing him.

He wasn't sure what he would say exactly, but he knew he wanted to apologize sincerely and give you the opportunity to explain your situation. If not to get some closure, then to at least make going back to the diner less uncomfortable.

He took a deep breath as he raked his fingers through his hair and swung open the door of the coffee shop. He glanced around the room before his eyes fell on you: hunched over and staring down at a small cup of coffee on the table in front of you.

He took a step forward, then stopped when he saw a man with a buzz cut and a beard sit down across from you. Joel didn't recognize him and he was fairly certain he could recognize just about anybody in town at this point. Something about the way you glanced up at the man across from you set his teeth on edge. You didn't smile. You didn't laugh. You looked pale and your eyes looked tired. He watched as the two of you exchanged a few words, and based on the man's body language, the mood was tense. Then suddenly, he reached his arm out across the table to grab your wrist and you jumped, fear flickering across your face. Even from this distance, Joel could see the whites of the man's knuckles as he squeezed your delicate skin under his firm grip.

Joel's nostrils flared and his jaw clenched and before he knew it, he was marching over to your table. Your eyes flicked up when you noticed him, looking like you had seen a ghost. Your eyes widened and your lips parted as you sat back in your chair. The man you were with noticed your reaction and finally loosened his grip, and you immediately tucked your hands on your lap underneath the table. He turned around and looked up with a scowl just as Joel approached.

"Everythin' alright here?" Joel asked, staring at you. You opened your mouth to reply, but the man across from you stood up, cutting you off.

"Everything's just great, Joel," he said with a sneer. Joel tore his eyes away from you to regard the man you were with. He looked him up and down, sizing him up, before answering.

"Sorry, have we met?"

"In a way," he said, crossing his muscular arms across his chest. Joel glanced at you again, but you were just staring down at your coffee cup, refusing to look at either of them.

"Don't look at her, look at me," he said, and Joel's head snapped back around with a glare.

"Excuse me?"

That was when Joel smelled the man's cologne. The same one Sarah bought for him. The same one you told him you were sensitive to. The wheels began turning in his head as he tried to put the pieces together.

"Patrick," you said quietly, trying to calm them both down when you felt other customers giving you curious looks.

"Shut up," he growled at you, still staring at Joel. Joel stiffened, the anger building low in his stomach, but he fought to keep a clear head.

"Hey, take it easy," Joel tried to interject, but Patrick scoffed. As his anger began to rise, Joel could see his neck splotching with red and veins popping out under his reddened skin.

"Don't stand there and act like you haven't been fucking my wife!" Patrick all but shouted, pulling the attention of everyone in the coffee shop now. Joel balked and took a step back.

"You've got it all wrong, we've never-"

"Patrick, I'm not sleeping with him, get a grip!" you snapped, finally standing up from the table.

"The hell you aren't. Why's he sending you messages in the middle of the night on Facebook saying he misses you and he's sorry and he needs to see you?" Patrick asked, turning on you now.

Your jaw dropped and your cheeks flushed pink, your surprised gaze bouncing between the two men and that was when Joel figured it out. Patrick lured him there to cause a fight, and you looked to be completely in the dark.

Joel glanced around nervously at all the onlookers now, murmuring amongst themselves, gossip he was sure would spread to the ends of town before noon.

"Listen, why don't we go outside and calm down. I can explain, it's not what it looks like," Joel said, lowering his voice.

"I'm staying right here," Patrick said, sitting back down in his chair and jutting his chin out with a glare. He seemed hellbent on doing this his way, and Joel was not in the mood.

"You're disturbin' the peace. These people are tryin' to enjoy their mornin' here. Either come outside with me, or we can do this a different way," Joel replied, pulling the hem of his shirt up to flash the gold star on his belt. Patrick laughed, then leaned over to grab his wallet out of his back pocket, showing Joel his own badge.

"Philly PD. 9th precinct. Wanna try that again, sheriff?"

That bit of information stunned Joel, momentarily at a loss for words.

"Hell, honey, at least you got a type," Patrick muttered to you, putting his wallet away. You grimaced and dropped your head between your shoulders, looking defeated.

"Either way, I gotta ask you to leave," Joel said, standing his ground. He could see the flush rising up Patrick's neck again, his fingers curling into a fist on the table before you stepped to stand between the two men.

"C'mon, Patrick. Let's go," you urged, holding your hand out shakily. Patrick slowly turned his head to look up at you. There was no love in his eyes. No affection or care. All Joel could see was raw anger.

"Why don't you come down to the station with me. We can talk this out, hm?" Joel asked him calmly, not feeling comfortable letting you leave with this man. You turned your head to the side, your eyes unable or unwilling to meet his.

"I got it, Joel. I'm sorry," you said softly over your shoulder.

Joel watched Patrick stand up and mock you under his breath before snatching your hand and pulling you roughly to his side, leading you out the front door. He was scrambling to find another reason to keep you from walking out of there, but he was too late. The pair of you were already halfway down the block by the time Joel was able to gather himself and walk out the door.

He stood on the sidewalk with his hands on his hips, watching as Patrick nearly dragged you up the street. You managed to turn your head once to look at him, your eyes wide and filled with worry before you turned the corner, disappearing from sight.

Nikki was talking his ear off, all bubbly and excited as she led Joel into one of the few bars in town. A blind man could see she was trying too hard. She was the one who came up with the idea of drinks, turning down dinner beforehand, and wearing one of the shorter dresses he's seen on a woman in a long time.

He realized about half an hour into the night it must have been a real blow to her self esteem when he turned her down after their first date because she was hanging all over him, pushing her chest against him every chance she could and even encouraged him to do a shot with her. He entertained the idea once but stopped her after that. He wasn't lying when he told you he wasn't much of a drinker, and he certainly wasn't interested in having meaningless, sloppy sex with Nikki, so he tried to slow her down and distract her.

"C'mon, why don't we order you somethin' to eat?" Joel said, flagging down the bartender for a menu, but Nikki shook her head and pouted.

"I'm hungry, but not for food, Joel," she whispered in his ear, then brazenly slid her hand over his thigh to try to cup him over his jeans. His hand shot down and grabbed her wrist.

"What are you doin'?" he asked with a nervous chuckle, and she groaned, pulling her hand back to wrap her arms around his shoulders instead.

"Isn't it obvious?" she replied, leaning forward to nibble on his ear. He made a face and untangled her arms from around him, pulling her back to her own stool.

"Listen, Nikki-"

A roar of laughter and some broken glass from the other side of the crowded bar caught Joel's attention. It was a Sunday night, but it was busy. There was a big football game on above the bar and it seemed to pull in all the men in town that evening. It was no wonder Joel didn't notice Patrick until that point.

He watched him through the throngs of bodies as he stumbled around the pool table with a couple other younger men from town. He looked like he was wasted: his eyes were bloodshot, his pupils blown wide, and his face was bright pink. Nikki followed Joel's gaze and turned back to him, confused.

"Who's that?" she asked, but Joel ignored her and instead waved down the bartender again.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked, wiping his hands with a worn out rag.

"What's goin' on over there, Hank?" Joel asked, nodding in Patrick's direction, watching as he grabbed the ass of a blonde girl heading to the bathroom.

"He's been here for hours," Hank said, leaning across the bar to keep his voice as low as possible. "I started waterin' down his drinks around 5, but he keeps gettin' worse and worse. Told one of his friends there to take him outside, I think he's too far gone and won't take kindly to me askin' him to leave."

Joel nodded and continued to watch. His skin looked red and his hair looked damp with sweat.

"What's wrong?" Nikki purred in his ear, trying to get his attention back on her, but he shook his head.

"Somethin' ain't right," he mumbled.

"I think he's married to that new waitress at the diner," Hank continued. Nikki sat back in her seat and said your name, her eyes beginning to clear. Hank snapped his fingers and pointed at her.

"Yep, that's the one. Was sayin' some real god awful stuff earlier 'bout her to those guys. Now you know I hear my fair share of bawdy talk 'round here, but this was enough to even make me blush."

Joel cursed under his breath and stood up from his stool. Nikki grabbed his arm and frowned.

"Where are you going?"

"Just gonna have a talk with him," Joel said, shrugging her hand off as he pushed his way through the crowd. As Joel approached the pool table, Patrick's drunken gaze fell on him and he smirked.

"Well, look who it is boys," Patrick said, his voice too loud as he stumbled to lean against the wall. "If it ain't the sheriff of this here wild west." Patrick laughed at his own joke, but the other three men he was with quieted down when they saw Joel.

"I think you oughta head home. Seems like you've had enough this evenin'," Joel said, his voice steady.

"I don't think I like you telling me what to do," Patrick said, his smile slipping as he pushed off the wall and took a few steps forward. One of the younger men that was playing pool with Patrick set his cue down on the table and spoke up.

"Hey man, let's just head out - "

"Shut the fuck up, I'll handle this asshole," Patrick turned and yelled, causing the whole bar to go quiet. Joel took a deep breath and reached behind him for his handcuffs.

"I don't fucking think so," Patrick said, his eyes locked on Joel's hand, but Joel just shook his head.

"You ain't givin' me much of a choice," he replied, but before he could blink, Patrick reared back and swung, his meaty fist coming in direct contact with Joel's chest, momentarily knocking the air out of his lungs. Luckily, Patrick was too drunk and missed Joel's face. But Joel was still relatively sober, and therefore much quicker. He lunged forward and clocked Patrick right in the nose, making him stumble backwards clutching his face with a pained howl.

People scattered out of the way, some men calling out to Patrick, telling him to stop, but most were just encouraging the fight with drunken excitement.

Once Patrick got his bearings, he ran forward at full speed, aiming to knock Joel down to the ground but he dodged him with ease and instead sent him flying head first into an empty table. He rolled over with a groan, blood trickling from his nose, a bright purple bruise already forming under his eye.

Joel leaned over him with a grin.

"You done?"

Patrick just groaned again, his hands coming up to rub his head. Joel took the opportunity to snatch his wrist and twist him around on the floor. Pressing his knee into Patrick's back, he pulled his other arm around and handcuffed him before pulling out his cell and dialing the number for the station.

Once Joel loaded Patrick into the back of Bobby's cruiser, telling his deputy to book him and he would deal with it in the morning, the rest of the bar went back to watching the football game, the excitement now over and done with. Joel scanned around and found Nikki seated exactly where he left her, but she looked less than pleased. He sighed and pushed his way through the crowd, back to his date.

"Hey, sorry 'bout -"

"I think I'm ready to leave, Joel," she said curtly, standing up and snatching her purse from the bar.

"Alright," he said. He led her outside and was heading to his truck when she stopped in front of a waiting car. He turned to look at her, confused.

"I asked a friend to come get me," she explained, and Joel slowly nodded.

"Hey, I'm sorry 'bout tonight, but sometimes the job just gets in the way."

"Was it the job, Joel? Or was it her?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. He paused, unsure what to say as he averted his gaze. She looked down at her feet and took a breath before bringing her eyes back up to him.

"This isn't going to work out, is it?" she asked softly. Joel forced himself to look at her again and after a moment, shook his head. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes and he immediately felt guilty. He took a step forward but she sniffled and stepped further away.

"I don't know why I couldn't see it. The whole fucking town sees it. Even after what happened at the coffee shop this morning... I just hoped..." she trailed off and wiped a stray tear from her eye.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, and he truly meant it. He didn't want to hurt her and he felt like shit that it had to come down to this.

"It's fine. I'll get over it," she said, trying to sound strong before turning to her friend's car and sliding into the front seat. He almost reached out, almost asked her to stay, but he stopped because it would have been cruel and selfish. He was only looking to assuage his own guilt. Instead, he watched the car back up and leave the parking lot, a pit growing in his stomach now that he was alone.

He knew it was the right thing to do, that he had to be honest with Nikki. At least he didn't lead her on, and he hoped he didn't hurt her feelings too badly, but he still felt like an asshole.

Then his thoughts drifted to you. What happened today after the coffee shop? Even though the guy was an asshole, it didn't change the fact you were married and he couldn't have you. What was he supposed to do? Pine away for you his whole life? Would he really ever be content with just being your friend?

And what the hell was he going to do with Patrick? He could charge him with assaulting an officer, that should keep him in jail for a few days until he posts bail, but would he ever see any charges actually stick? Or would he make a few phone calls and have them disappear?

He didn't anticipate this ever being a problem. He's never had to deal with another lawman on the receiving side of his job.

He was entering uncharted territory.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm

[justmeinadaze]

Inescapable (Steddie X You)

A/N: This is the events that ties in with this thing here :)

Please enjoy!

Warnings: Older (Early 30s) Prisoner Steddie & Young (Early 20s) Fem college student Y/N, SMUT, public smut, fingering, grinding, LOTS of dirty talk, daddy kink (cause I'm me), female masturbation, handjob (m & m), ANGST, cheating (reader is in a relationship), mentions of her parents not approving of her talking to the guys, reader also mentions bf parents don't like her, readers bf interviews the guys and vaguely mentions things from season 4 like the deaths and starts a fight with them, boys get jealous and angry when promises are broken, cliffhanger ending (because I can :) ).

Word Count: 8533

"You can build a prison of stone and steel, but you merely present the prisoner with a challenge. Any truly determined man will find a way out but love, love is the perfect prison. Inescapable."-- Wilson Fisk (Daredevil)

September 1996

The longer you waited for the system to transfer your call to their cellblock the more your nerves continued to build. 

You had been corresponding with convicts Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington for almost two months so it wasn’t like this was your first time talking to them but there were so many different factors that made you anxious. 

Becoming a lawyer was all you ever wanted to be and you constantly felt like you had to prove yourself since your family was so desperate for you to become anything else. When you were told to pick a case, everyone in your class chose the obvious candidates making your eyes roll especially since there was no challenge in it. So many well-known cases had not only evidence but confessions from the defendant saying that they did the crimes. Manson and Gacy had done interviews constantly incriminating themselves.

Eddie and Steve never once accepted any kind of invitation to do an interview whether it be media or print and they never once changed their stories even in the letters they wrote. A plea deal had been offered for them to plead guilty with Steve serving only 10 years and Eddie with 15 but they declined insisting on their innocence. 

The evidence was lack luster at best and it killed you that their lawyer didn’t do a better job at defending them. You genuinely believed them and what they told you. Add in the fact that their demeanors in their writing never conveyed any kind of hostility or rudeness. 

Both men were always polite and answered any questions you had. They could be intimidating at times but you thought maybe it was just because they were older than you and stuck in a place they never should have been. 

Oddly enough though, you felt safe with them. 

“Hey, Y/N?”, a soft voice flowed through your ears. 

“Yeah, um, hey. Hi. Is this, um, who is this?”

“I’m Steve and Eddie’s on the phone next to me. The prison has a way for three-way calls but don’t worry. We can pay for those fees.”, the man responds hoping to calm your nerves. 

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s good to hear your voice finally.”, Eddie exhales heavily.

Blinking, you hear what sounds like one of them being hit as Steve scolds his friend. 

“Stop it. You’re going to scare her.”

“He’s not…I’m not scared. It’s alright, I just…this is all new to me.”

“What? You didn’t expect to be on the phone with convicted killers?”, Eddie replied bluntly making you laugh a little when you heard the other man sigh in frustration. “You’re going to have to get used to it with you wanting to be a lawyer. Unless you want to be lawyer like Steve’s dad.”

“Oh, no thank you. Tax law isn’t exactly stimulating to say the least.”, you giggle. 

“Ah, I see you tried to reach out to my father.”

“Um, I did. I hope that’s ok. You didn’t say I couldn’t—”

“No, honey. It’s absolutely fine. I say tried because I imagine he ignored you?”

“He didn’t ignore me exactly. I told him I was a law student…I just left out exactly what type of law I was studying.”, you wince on the other end fearing it may alliant him before sighing in relief when they both laugh. “When I started asking about your case he politely told me to fuck off and your mom didn’t answer my calls.”

“How does one politely tell someone to fuck off?”, Eddie asked.

“He’s got his ways. I’m sorry he was rude, Y/N.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m kind of used to parents talking down to me.”

“Baby? Are you hungry?! Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were on the phone.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as your boyfriend called to you in the background immediately silencing the men on the line. 

“Uh, no, Derek. I’m not hungry right now but maybe later?” After nodding, he disappears into your shared bedroom. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“No problem. Isn’t it like nine o’clock? You need to eat something, sweetheart.”

“It’s ok, Mr. Mun—Eddie…I had a big lunch.”

We’ve been writing for two months and you still struggle using our names?”, the man laughs. “You start your letters with ‘em!”

“I know. I know but it’s different.”

“Well, let’s shake out those nerves because I have a feeling we’re going to be friends for a while. You’re Y/N. Who are we?”, Steve instructs with a calm tone that makes you blush. “Come on, pretty girl. Who are we?”

“Steve. Steve and Eddie.”

“Good. Very good. Now can you say it a bit more confidently?”

Glancing around you, you make sure your boyfriend isn’t within earshot before sighing and replying, “You’re Eddie and Steve.”

“You have five more minute on this call.”

The automated voice startled you as you listened to them heavily exhale in annoyance. 

“Alright, princess. We’ll…we’ll let you go but feel free to call us whenever. Like I said…It was so nice to hear your voice. Compared to all the bullshit we hear in here…it’s a nice reprieve.”

You hear a line disconnect thinking they both suddenly disconnected before Steve’s voice flowed through. 

“All of this has been really hard on him, you know?”

“I can’t imagine…”

“But he’s not wrong. It’s been so long since we’ve heard a kind voice directed our way especially one as calming as yours… But, yeah, um, Eddie said call whenever but you know—”

“I can’t call after 10:30pm.”

“You got it, hon. Have a good night and we’ll talk to you later.”

“Good night, Steve”

##########################

 December 22, 1996

“Don’t let my uncle forget to give you the present we got you! We went to every store to find the perfect gift!”

You laughed hard at Eddie’s joke as Steve sighed in fake frustration into the phone. 

“Ok we didn’t but we did scan the Sears catalogue Wayne brought when he came to see us.”

“You guys didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Pfft, please. You’re our friend and you said you got us something so sue us.” You softly smiled when you heard Steve’s smile flow through. You imagined this time of year was exceptionally hard for them and wanted to do what you could, growing fond of them after all this time. “Are you still visiting Derek’s parents for Christmas?”

“That is the plan but I’m a bit nervous. This is my first time meeting them and I’m afraid they won’t like me.”

“Sweetheart, have you met you? They’re going to love you!”

“Shut the fuck up!”

This wasn’t the first time another inmate had interrupted their call. They explained to you that while the phones were in a private-ish area, the common area was still nearby. You never told them but you could hear the immediate change in their demeanor when it happened and it killed you. It was as if their old personalities would leak through before prison reminded them where they were. 

You wished you could have met the men they were before being incarcerated. 

“I’m sorry about that, Y/N. Everyone is a bit amped up with the holidays around the corner. He’s not wrong though. If Derek’s parents don’t like you than fuck them because obviously somethings wrong with them.”

“Steve? You don’t have to always do that… pretend like everything’s ok. Not with me.”

The silence on the other end was heavy but you could hear their steady breathing as they thought about what you were saying. 

“I have to. Not just for you but me to. If I don’t downplay it then—”

“We’re reminded that we are actually in a fucking prison we don’t deserve to be in.”, Eddie added breaking your heart. 

“I wish there was something I could do.”, you whisper. 

“Baby, you have no idea how much you do just by being you. We don’t deserve you, Y/N.”

“Yes you do, Eddie. You and Steve don’t deserve the hell you’ve been through. I wish I could at least hug you both.”

Again, both men were silent and the only sound you heard was your boyfriend in your bedroom as he finished packing the last of his things for your trip. 

“We wish we could hug you to, honey.”

“Yeah especially with the way your letters smell I always imagine you smell exactly the same…so fucking sweet…just like you.”

Their voices had dropped to a register you had never heard from either man before let alone any man in your lifetime. The sound had your heart fluttering as you licked your lips and exhaled.

“Are you, Y/N?”

“Am I what, Eddie?”

“Are you sweet?”

“You have five more minutes on this call.”

“Baby?! I got everything packed but I’m not sure if I’m missing something!”, your boyfriend shouts making you gasp as you jump.

“Fuck. Um, I have to go. I’ll call you guys when I can ok? Bye!” 

Before they even say a word, you hastily hang up the phone. 

########################

January 12th, 1997

Biting the skin beside your nail, you glance at the other people in the visitor’s center waiting to see other inmates. Some women were dressed in low cut shirts showing off their cleavage making you a bit self-conscious as you adjusted the slightly baggy sweater hanging off your body. This was your first time physically meeting Eddie and Steve and you weren’t sure why but you wanted to make a good impression. 

Quickly throwing your sweater to the side, you fixed your hair before straightening the long sleeve shirt underneath that fit a bit better to your form. Not wanting to seem too eager, you chose jeans telling yourself it was also due to the cold weather.

You weren’t sure if you could bring anything but to be honest you weren’t even sure what would be appropriate. When you met Derek’s parents you brought a dessert that no one ate except your boyfriend as his mother constantly stared daggers at you from across the table. When you went to see your parents, you showed up with small gifts that they always seemed to awkwardly thank you for before giving you gifts as well that were things you could never use. Oddly enough the only person to react positively to you showing up with an item was Eddie’s uncle whose eyes lit up when you appeared at his front door with cake you made. You both shared it as he talked to you about holidays at the Munson household and answered some of the questions you had. 

What do you bring to people who lost their freedom?

Inmates began slowly entering the room and the sudden sounds of partners and parents sobbing as they embraced them overwhelmed you as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. 

“Y/N?”

When you opened your them again you were met with two tall men towering you. You had read about them constantly and seen their pictures numerus time in different place but having them both in front of you now abruptly overloaded your brain as you rose to your feet. 

They still physically looked more or less the same than the day they were arrested 10 years ago except Steve had a bit more facial hair and Eddie seemed to have more tattoos on his arms. Under their short sleeve white shirts, you could see their muscular arms and abs, again making you self-conscious as you pulled at the bottom of garment without looking. Steve’s hair was a bit longer but a bit frayed as if he had been running his fingers through it before coming into the room while Eddie’s long hair was pulled back out of his face showing off his soft features. 

“Is everything ok? You look scared. Don’t worry, honey, you’re safe in here. No one is going to UMPH—”

Steve’s hands flew up in surprise when you jerked forward and your arms wrapped around his waist. It took him a moment before his own limbs finally circled around you as his cheek rested on top of your head. 

“Fuck me… It’s been so long since anyone except Ed has hugged me.”

At the sound of his name, you released the one man to move to the other who without hesitation took you in his embrace and clung to you tightly as his fingers tangled in your hair. 

Feeling his hands shake against you, you pulled back into time to hear him clear his throat as he turned away from you to run his palms over his face. 

“Sorry, yeah, it’s been a while since anyone has come to see us. Well, except for Wayne.”

Their eyes never leave you as you take a seat and they follow you down making sure to keep their distance until you felt more comfortable. 

“I like Wayne. He’s been incredibly kind to me since I met him. Not that everyone else hasn’t…just hard to get a hold of people. Especially Nancy Wheeler and Dustin Henderson since they no longer live in Hawkins.” Shifting your gaze their way, you notice them staring at you with small smiles on their faces. “I’m sorry. I’m, um, babbling a bit. I’m just a little nervous I guess. Plus, you’re not what I was expecting…aaaaand I’m doing it again. Ok.”

Eddie’s hand gently reaches out to grasp your forearm that was resting on the table.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. There’s no reason to be nervous.”

“What do you mean by ‘not what you were expecting’?”, Steve smirks. “Were you thinking orange jumpsuits and tattoos on our faces?”

“No.”, you giggle. “I don’t know. I guess when you’re only familiar with pictures…seeing someone in person…”

“Yeah, we know the feeling.”, the long-haired man beams your way. “I was right by the way. You smell intoxicating.”

***

February 10th, 1997

You smile as both men continue to laugh at joke Eddie had made while they continue to nibble on the food you brought them. 

“I’m surprised they let you bring this in. Did you drug them with your own set of like pot brownies or—”

“Shhhh!”, you giggle as your hand reaches up to silence the metalhead who casually tilts back and captures it with his own making a silent mental note that you don’t pull away. “The guards here actually aren’t too bad. At first I was afraid to ask but when I did they told me it was ok to bring desserts but they have to inspect it, of course, and then it can’t be in like any glass.”

“And you said you brought this to Derek’s parents and they didn’t like it? I think these brownies are delicious.”, Steve grinned as he sucked some of the remaining chocolate off his thumb. 

“It’s not that they didn’t like it, they just don’t like me.” As you nervously chuckle and glance towards the window, Eddie’s own thumb caresses your skin comfortingly as the other man slides a bit closer to you when he hears the change in your voice. “Before me, Derek was dating this particular girl that his family found more fitting. Kind of like your parents Steve, his are high society and they’ve told him countless times that I’m ‘not a good fit’.”

“The fuck does that mean? You’re perfect.”

“Naw, Ed. Not to the ‘Hawkins Elite’.”, Steve sighs. “My dad was the same. Perfect to them had a particular meaning. It’s fucking stupid because you are an amazing woman.”

Your eyes lock with his as you thank them; his gorgeous honey irises burning into yours. When you notice Eddie is taking you in as well, you laugh hoping to break the tension that had suddenly built as you pulled your hand out of his grasp. 

“It’s…It’s not a big deal. He made sure that night to show me how appreciated I am on the dining room table so.” Your face promptly flushes with embarrassment as you try to hide behind your palms. “Why the fuck did I just say that?”

When you finally found the confidence to look their way, you noticed they were still staring at you but something else had replaced the earlier look in their eyes. Was that…jealousy? 

“Is that the kind of thing that gets you off? Doing something you shouldn’t?”

Trying to brush it off (and ignore the sexy sound of the husky drop in Eddie’s voice), you smirked as you lazily shrugged. 

“Isn’t everyone to an extent?”

“Hm…but not everyone is you.” 

“Steve—”

“Y/N.” At the sound of your name, you closed your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. Feeling a shift in the atmosphere, you lick your lips and lean forward till your forehead lands on his. 

“This is wrong.”

“You like that though don’t you, pretty girl?”  His humid breath warms your tongue as you subtly open your mouth to contain the strong need to melt into the soft sound of his voice. “I bet if I put my hand between your legs that little pussy would be dripping.”

Closing the distance, his lips mingle gently with yours as his large palm cups your cheek. You can feel in his kiss that he’s holding back and the flutters in your stomach desperately want more. Another set of hands takes hold of your face and you’re met with another set of lips that taste like strong nicotine and sin. 

“Fuck, you taste so good. Does he appreciate you, sweetheart? You deserve to be worshipped.”

“Eddie…I—”

“Munson! Harrington! Why don’t you share, huh?!”, another inmate yelled pulling you back into the reality of your situation. 

“Fuck off!”, the metalhead shouted immediately rising to his feet when the other prisoner did the same. 

“Ok, ok, ok.”, Steve tried to deescalate as he quickly stood up and placed himself between both men. “Come on now, guys. Let’s just focus on our own visitors ok?”

Eddie and the man continued to stare each other down before turning back towards their table but to both their dismay you were gone. 

***

February 16th, 1997

“Hey, honey. Is everything alright? You sound like you’ve been crying.”

You sniffled into your phone as you pulled your knees to your chin. 

“Yeah, I’m alright, Steve. I, um, I just got into a fight with Derek and he stormed out.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You can talk to us about it if you want to. We’re here for you.”, Eddie coos hating that he can’t just pull you to his chest and comfort you. 

“He thinks…I’m too invested in you two. That I spend too much time talking to you and visiting. He…he wants me to stop talking to you. Maybe—Maybe I should.”

“If…if that’s what you want, baby girl. We don’t want to make things harder for you.”

“Do you WANT to stop seeing us?”

“No.”, you sobbed making the metalhead’s heart burst when you didn’t hesitate. “I like talking to you. You both make me feel safe.”

“You know we’d never hurt you, Y/N. Not unless you wanted us to that is.”

When you laughed at his statement both men let out a sigh of relief. 

“What else do we make you feel, pretty girl? Besides safe.”, Steve asked. When you didn’t immediately respond, he took over as he lowered his voice. “Come on, baby. Tell us. Do we make you feel appreciated? Loved? Needed?”

“Y-Yes…”

“Do we give you tingles all over your body?”

“Yes. Fucking everywhere.”, you chuckled making the man smile. 

“Even between those sexy legs?”, Eddie adds, biting his lip when he hears your heavy breath. “Can you do us a favor, princess, and run those soft hands between your pussy? Don’t put them inside you though. Just tell us how wet you are.”

You don’t know why but as the brain fog takes over you do what they ask and slid your fingers between your folds making a loud squelching noise as the pads graze your clit. 

“F-Fuck…I’m—I’m soaked. I like the way you two talk to me.”

“Hm. Never had a man tell you what he wants? Trust us, honey. We fucking dream about how good our cocks would feel buried inside you. If we were free you’d never keep us off you.”, Steve groans feeling himself stiffen in his pants. “We know you like doing things you’re not supposed to. Maybe we’d show up at your school and fuck you in the library while you try to keep from screaming about how you can feel me in your stomach.”

“Steve…please…”

“Go ahead, Y/N. Push two of your fingers in that tight little cunt and pretend it’s you fully seated on top on me in the back of your class as you try to pay attention. At most you can warm my cock the entire time until everyone leaves. I bet you’d like that, sweetheart, huh?”

“Mmm—yes, Eddie, I’d like that.”, you pant as you roll your hips. 

“Jesus Christ, I love hearing you say my name. Say it again, baby, please.”

“Oh God—fuck—I’m gonna…”

You moan both their names repeatedly as the coil snaps and you ride out your high as they listen to your heavy breaths. 

“Such a good girl. You alright, honey?”

“Yeah… I just…I wish I could hold you.”

“We know, baby. Fuck do we know especially with what you’ve been through tonight but we’re going to see you really soon right?”

“In a few days, yeah, but I’ll call you tomorrow if that’s ok.”

“Of course, princess. You can call us whenever you need to.”

################

April 19th, 1997

Eddie’s palm held down the corner of your textbook as the wind blew around you. 

Since it wasn’t as cold outside today you were able to visit with them outside near the courtyard at a picnic table under a nearby tree. You told them you were studying for an exam and they insisted you bring your materials thinking they could be of more help. 

“I mean we were punished by the criminal judicial system so you’d think we’d know some of this stuff.”, Steve chuckles. 

“I know a lot of it but when it comes to tests I struggle to retain any of it. It’s like I just panic sometimes.”

“I always had trouble focusing.”, the metalhead adds. “That’s why I failed so much. Oddly enough the GED wasn’t as difficult.”

“When you get out would you want to go to college?”

“Oh, sweetheart. What school would take me when I get out of here?”

“Eddie…”

“He’s got a point, babe. I tried so hard to get into a university after I graduated and even with my sports record no one wanted me. I doubt a prison record will make that easier.”

“That makes me so angry.”, you growl. “You two didn’t do anything wrong. When is your next appeal?”

“Mine is in a month and his is in three.”, Steve sighed. “Let’s not talk about that right now. How are you, Y/N? Beside the tests and school, I mean.”

“Everything’s ok. My relationship with Derek has been a bit strained. He went with me to visit my dad and my father just grilled him the moment he walked in. To remove the focus off of him, he told him that I’ve been visiting you two. That, um, that didn’t go so well.”

“What happened?”

“He just…he doesn’t approve.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, what did he say?”, Eddie soothed as he shifted his body closer to yours. 

“He’s afraid you’re going to kill me like that girl.”, you murmured, panicking slightly when you see the metalhead’s jaw tighten. “You know I’m not afraid of you right? I know you’d never hurt me like that.”

“We know, baby. We know.”, Steve coos as he leans down to kiss your forehead. 

“I wish I could do something to help.”, you reply in that small voice that drives them crazy. 

After quickly taking a look around, he glances down at your skirt and without warning subtly lifts your body as he adjusts it so its further up your thighs. Grasping your leg, Steve lifts it over his own and Eddie slides over till he’s pressed up to your opposite side. 

“Keep looking at your notebooks, honey. Don’t lift those pretty eyes from the paper unless we say ok?”

“Ok.”, you answer breathlessly as excited nerves fill your tummy. 

“Good girl.”, Steve praises as he kisses your cheek and you feel his palm ghost up your skin slowly between your legs. “Fuck me. Are you not wearing panties?”, he whispers making you clench at the needy sound. 

“No…I was kind of hoping…”

“Hoping what? That we’d touch you?”

“Such a bad little girl.”, Eddie teases as he reaches for your hand closest to him and kisses the back before placing it on the bulge in his blue sweatpants. “Just enjoy his fingers, Y/N. We can use you to take care of ourselves.”

“Oh my—”

“Shhhh! You have to be quiet, baby. Don’t want to get caught now do we?”, Steve smirks as you passionately shake your head. As he guides his index between your folds, your free arm wraps around his as you rest your cheek on his bicep. “Did you like that? Eddie saying that we’d use you… Oh Munson, she definitely did.”, he exhales as he wiggles and presses his finger against your clit. 

At the sound of you trying to hide your moan in his arm, Steve tugs your leg further up his own and you suddenly feel his stiff cock through his pants rubbing against your calf. To your left Eddie coughs to hide a grunt that wanted to break free as he placed his hand on top of yours and maneuvered it so you were stroking him over his clothes. 

They both would give anything to feel your body directly on theirs but they knew their window of time was short and unfortunately where they were there was no way to discreetly pull down their pants. 

“S-Steve…pleeeeeeeeease…”

Eddie’s nose smushes against your cheek just as his friend guides two of his fingers into your core. 

“We’re gonna get in trouble, Y/N, if you can’t control yourself.”, he growls as he presses your palm harder against him. “Fuck, your hand feels so fucking good.”, Eddie groans as he kisses your neck. 

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking tight.”, Steve whispers. “I would give anything to—mmph—feel your pussy squeeze my dick. We’re going to ruin you, little one.”

Clinging tightly to his arm, you pressed your face into him as you muffled the screams that wanted to be heard. 

“Cum, pretty girl. That’s it, baby.”, Eddie urged as the coil in your belly snapped. “Good girl. Fuck.”

After sucking your slick off his index, Steve offered his hand to his friend who without hesitation licked the rest of his middle finger. 

“I knew it. I knew you tasted fucking sweet, little girl.”, he grunted as his other palm roughly grabbed your wrist, holding your hand still as Eddie rolled his hips a couple more times before shuddering a bit as he came.

Utilizing both his hands now, Steve pressed your leg harder to his crotch, grinding as subtly as he could till he grunted and his face scrunched as he soon followed. 

Calloused fingers tenderly lift your head and you softly smile when the metalhead’s lips land on yours. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

Giggling, you rub your face into his neck as you inhale his smell of soap and cigarettes. 

“I think that’s the orgasm talking.”

With a firmer grasp, Eddie tilts your chin so his eyes lock with your own. 

“I’m serious. I love you, sweetheart, and I think you love us to.”

As you turn to face Steve, he gently places your leg back down and helps you adjust your outfit. 

“I love you to, honey…very much. You don’t have to say it back or anything. We know that loving us…carries a lot of weight.”

The guards scream out into the yard that visiting hours were about to end and both boys help you gather your books as they walk you back inside. Just like every time before their eyes remain on you not wanting to look away till you’re completely out of sight. 

Pausing halfway out the door, you swivel your body their way and flash them the most beautiful smile either boy had ever seen. 

“I love you both to.”

########################

May 7th, 1997

“Please be nice to them. They aren’t what people say in the papers.”

“I certainly hope not especially since you talk to them 24/7.”, Derek sassed making you roll your eyes. “I’m sorry, baby. Look, I promise I’ll be good.”

When you don’t say anything, your boyfriend wraps his arm around your waist and tugs you to him, smiling when his lips attach to yours. 

The sound of a throat clearing startled you as a guard lingered in the doorframe with Eddie and Steve in tow. The pain that lingered in their eyes told you they caught your kiss and it killed you. 

“Alright Miss Y/L/N, you and your friend—”

“Boyfriend.”, Derek corrected. 

The officer huffed at the interruption as Steve sarcastically laughed under his breath. 

“You and your boyfriend have this room for as long as you need. We usually use it for interviews for the privacy and if you need anything I’ll be right outside.”

“Thank you, Bobby.”, you grinned politely and the officer nodded his head in return before stepping back outside. 

“Oh, first name basis with the guards. Some people would consider that a red flag, babe.”

“To be fair, her father is a cop so…”, Eddie countered as they both took a seat in front of the camera.

“He IS Mr. Munson but, to be fair, this isn’t exactly his jurisdiction is it?”

As you shakily sigh and your eyes close, you feel shoes lightly tap your shin and when you open your eyes again you are met with their comforting expressions. 

“All right, boys, the camera is now rolling. Are you ready to begin?”

Both their faces twitch as your boyfriend’s flippant tone as he takes a seat beside you across from them. 

“Yeah, kid. We’re ready when you are.”

At Steve’s equally annoyed response, you felt your body tense as you immediately began regretting your decision. The sparing match was about to begin and you were just now aware this wouldn’t be an interview but a fight for dominance like animals in the wild. 

“Perfect! So, Steven Harrington and Edward Munson, you were charged for murder in the deaths of some Hawkins student’s including Chrissy Cunningham who of course the entire country now knows thanks to people in the town spreading awareness and the foundation they created in her name a few years ago. So far, you both have served 11 years of your 25-year sentence… what has that been like?”

“Well, Derek, it’s been no picnic but we have utilized the time wisely. We read and exercise out in the yard. I’ve been reading up on law and we both participate in the group therapy options provided. Eddie was able to get his GED and graduate from high school.”

“Aw that’s nice. It only took a prison sentence for you to finally finish.”, he smiles showing all of his teeth in that sarcastic manner you know very well. “Now, in your own words, can you tell me what happened to those kids that died in 1986?”

Your eyes remained zeroed in on them as they explained what they had told to you and a courtroom numerous times. Someone else killed them and circumstantial evidence made it seem like it was Eddie while a vendetta made it seem like Steve was an accomplice.

“Were you surprised, Steven, when Hawkins Lap retracted their statements in regard to certain Hawkins events including their involvement of the death of Barbara Holland?”

Steve’s eyes fluttered as he tried to hold back the feeling that bubbled in his chest. 

“Yeah, I was.”

“I imagine they did that since Eddie’s lawyer insisted on using them as a defense in this case. There’s only so much a company will allow themselves to be blamed for. What did happen with Miss Holland?”

“Derek…”, you warned.

“She was best friends with Nancy Wheeler who you were dating at the time.”

“Derek.”

“Is that why Miss Wheeler broke up with you about a year later? Or excuse me. She goes by Mrs. Byers now.”

“DEREK!”

“Y/N! You’re not their fucking lawyer so stop interrupting!”

“Don’t talk to her like that.”, Eddie growled as he sat up straighter. 

“Pfft or what? You’ll kill me to?”, Derek replied smarmily as he straightened as well. “Whether you like it or not, you two are criminals and apparently there was at least enough evidence for a jury to convict you BOTH of that. It honestly amazes me that my girlfriend can’t accept that fact.”

“She’s going to be a phenomenal lawyer especially since she doesn’t just look at what’s on the surface unlike everyone else in the town.”, Steve countered making you blush as a small smirk painted your lips. 

“Oh on the surface huh? So, Mr. Munson, you didn’t run after Chrissy was killed? Whether it be because you murdered her or someone else did, you ran and left her behind for your uncle to find, you pathetic freak.”

Eddie rose to his feet as his fists clenched but Steve hastily stopped him as he tried to calm him down. 

“When people go missing you just happen to be around, Mr. Harrington? Add in the fact that you both have similar scars that tells anyone with eyes that whatever you were involved in you did it together.”

“This is over, Derek. You promised me—”

“No, you know what’s over? This little infatuation between you and my girlfriend.”, the man rumbles as he squares his shoulders and faces them. “The letters and phone calls stop today as well as the fucking visitation.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?!”

“No.”, Eddie repeated. “We love her and we aren’t letting her go that easy.”

“Oh please! What can you two offer her?!  You still have another 14 years in here and then what? Your lives will just be smooth sailing from there?! You’ve only known here for one year and I’ve been with her for three! Trust me, guys, she needs a real man. Someone who can take care of her in every way a man should.”

“Oh yeah, little boy? Is that why when you fuck her she’s thinking about us?” 

The room went quiet for a few moments before Derek sarcastically chuckled and shifted his gaze toward you. 

“You want them so badly? Fine. I can’t wait to see your face on the fucking news after they tear you apart. At least I can get a good story out of it. Better than anything else you’ve given me this past year, you fucking whore.”

You jumped, pressing your back against the wall as Steve abruptly flipped the table over with his hand before Eddie charged at the boy and tackled him to the floor. As they began to fight each other, guards ran in to separate them, pinning both men to the floor as they held Derek back against the wall. 

Neither man look your way as officers tugged them to their feet and dragged them out of the room. 

###################

September 27th, 1997

Steve bounces his leg as they wait by the phone for your call to finally come through. You said you’d call last night but you didn’t and it killed them. They understood you were busy but you made promises to them that they desperately held on to because there was very little to hope for in their current predicament. 

“This really pisses me off, Harrington.”

“What are we going to do about it, Munson? She’s got school and her job—”

“Oh, I see. So her failing to keep her promises is only ok because we’re locked up. Got it.”

“Calm down, Eddie.”

“Don’t tell me to--! Don’t tell me to be calm. If I was free I’d have punished her already but…”

After coming to prison, Steve had a lot more time to get to know who Eddie Munson was and came to find out that they had a lot in common. Their dads were assholes, their moms weren’t present, and they seemed to have a common attraction to being the dominant partner. On nights when he was desperate and incredibly lonely, Steve would sit beside his friend and elaborate about fantasies he had, had in his head since he hit puberty. 

Both men continued to look at the brick wall in front of them as they continued stroking the other’s cock. 

“I just want to push a beautiful girl onto her knees and fuck her gorgeous face a-as she gags around my dick. I want to hold her down against the m-m-mattress and stuff myself so deep inside her till can’t walk.”

“Mmph—that kind of intimacy is…is fucking heaven. To have a woman submit like that…fuck… have you e-ever punished a brat before?” Eddie smiles when Steve shakes his head. “Fuck, man. It’s on a whole—fuck, I’m gonna cum—a whole other level.”

After thrusting his hips upwards, his release hit his friend’s hand but what surprised him was when Steve grabbed the back of his neck and pushes the man’s head onto his leaking cock. The metalhead doesn’t protest, bobbing at a quick pace as the back of his friend’s palm guides him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. That’s it, baby. Take it. Take all of Daddy’s cum down that sexy fucking throat.”

As soon as Steve had given him everything he had, Eddie patted the man’s thigh before climbing the little latter to his top bunk.

“Hey, Ed?”

“Hm?”

“You know when I talk about this stuff I mean…to like… a partner I’m in love with who consents to it. Like…I would never…hurt someone…”

“I know, Steven.”, the other man chuckles as he places his arms behind his head to stare at the bland ceiling. 

“Hey, Ed?”

“Hm?”

“I didn’t cross a line tonight right?”

“No, Steven, you didn’t.”

“Good because, um, you’re my best friend and you’re, um, kinda the only thing keeping me sane in here. Not just because of the…but because…I trust you.” Steve rolled over to face the wall, closing his eyes as he heavily sighed. “Good night, Eddie.”

The mattress above him shifts slightly until he heard the light sound of socked feet hit the floor. An arm suddenly wraps around him pulling him back into an equally broad chest and another limb slides under his pillow under his head as calloused fingers looped through his. 

“Good night, Steve.”

They never told you about any of that because honestly that was none of your business. To them, it was survival and both men trusted each other more than anyone else. They had been through so much and knew truths that no one else did. This was sacred and special to them and they were terrified of people turning it into something dirty. 

Not that you ever would or mock them in any kind of way but they just weren’t ready to reveal that part of them to you and were pretty sure they never would. 

“We’ve never gone that far with her. I mean she said she likes it rough and we’ve said some things but we haven’t truly set up the dynamic. How do we even do that in here?”, Steve sighed. 

“Add in the fact that as soon as she calls us Daddy or Sir we’re going to want to fuck her which we can’t.”

Both men chuckle as a sad sigh leaves their chest. 

“Can’t we?” At Steve’s words, Eddie’s eyes flicked his way as he leaned against the wall behind him. “I mean a ton of the prisoners here have contraband brought in. There has to be a guard or two here who doesn’t mind bending the rules for the right price.”

“Steve Harrington, you’re playing with fire.”

“I know but—“

“Harrington! Munson! Call coming through for you!”

Both mean exchanged a glance before picking up their separate lines. 

“Y/N?”

“Hey! I’m so sorry. I know I said I’d call an hour ago but I fell asleep. I cut back some of my hours but still. These classes are so difficult.”

“We were really worried about you. We get worried when you don’t call and you missed our last visit, sweetheart.”

“I know. I’m sorry. This will never happen again. I promise!”

################

October 9th, 1997

Their demeanors were completely different this time than the many other times you had come to see them and you knew why. 

It was so hard to keep up with your school and work schedule as well as keep constant contact with two men who had a set schedule of their own set up by the prison. You were doing everything you could but you could tell from their fire filled expressions it wasn’t enough. 

“I’m sorry.”, you reiterated as they continued to glare at the table in front of them. “I really am. I’m doing my best to—”

“It’s not enough.”, Steve growled making you blink at the audacity. 

“I’m…I’m not doing this on purpose. I told you guys junior year was going to be a bit more demanding but I’d do everything I could—”

“You do everything you can yet you still make promises and don’t follow through.”

“I’m sorry I’m fucking busy, Eddie! I don’t know what else you want from me!”

Fingers dig into your bicep as the metalhead yanks you till your face is inches from his. 

“Lower your fucking voice, little girl.”

The action startles you for a second before your eyes glare back at him as your teeth clench. 

“You’re hurting me.”

As you yank your arm from his grasp, you can’t help but sigh as you see a slight glimmer of pain flash through theirs. They really did miss you and hate being away from you but unfortunately due to the circumstances they had zero control of the situation. 

“I really am trying to cut down some of the stress so I can call and see you both more. Like I said, I cut back on my hours at work and this kid in my class offered to help tutor me. He’s one of the top students in my year so I really think he can help me.”

“He?” Your head tilts at Steve’s question as both their energies shift into something new that both frightened and turned you on. “Well, that’s nice to know, Munson. First she’s working at a bar till two in the fucking morning with drunk men fucking flirting and eye fucking her and now she has a male tutor she’ll be spending her time with! No wonder we haven’t heard from her. Little whore as all she needs at home!”

Your mouth fell open as he shouted at you, feeling hurt before the anger took over. Rising to your feet, you grab your bag but as you start to walk away, Eddie grabs your wrist. 

“We are not done talking, Y/N. We’ve put up with the disrespect for the past few months because we know you’re going through a lot but missing calls, visits, and now this? No.”

“Let me go now.”

Without releasing you, they both rose to their feet and crowded your space till Steve’s nose was touching yours and Eddie’s lips were hovering near your shoulder. 

“You’re ours, Y/N.” Steve’s eyes scan your face as your breathing stutters at his low gravelly tone. “And you will listen, little girl.”

“I’m NOT a little girl.”, you grumble back. 

“Then stop acting like one.”, Eddie adds. “Now, be a good LITTLE girl and listen to what Daddy says. Sit. Down.”

The smirk that dons his friend’s face at the title has your pussy clenching as his eyes remain locked on yours. It feels like centuries before you finally collect your bearings and shake the fog that had begun to cloud your brain. 

“Fuck you both.”

After shoving Steve’s chest hard, you quickly powerwalk out of the visitor’s room. 

***

October 12th, 1997

You woke up with a splitting headache in a room you didn’t recognize with someone’s arms wrapped around you a bit too tightly. Prying out of the boy’s grasp, you throw on a nearby shirt and tiptoe to the bathroom. 

Your eyes were still heavy from all the tears you had cried these past few days. You missed Eddie and Steve terribly but you couldn’t bring yourself to reach out again. You couldn’t believe their sudden change in behavior and how they spoke to you. Had the signs always been there and you just never noticed?

They had admitted once that they weren’t jealous of Derek because they cheekily declared that “that little boy can’t make you feel like we do.” Why were they so angry about your tutor and your job? Maybe it was because school and the bar took up a lot of time whereas Derek really didn’t. Because of his own classes he was always coming and going and whenever he was present he always seemed distracted. 

To be fair, you did make promises you struggled to keep but it’s because you were so excited to finally talk to them you genuinely planned to go see them. You would literally count the minutes till your classes were done, promptly run home to shower and be ready by the time you told them but as soon as your head hit the pillow as you waited, you would pass out. 

Maybe you just needed to find something you could do on campus so you weren’t up so late at work. Yeah it would be a bit of pay cut but you could make it work. 

When it came to their attitudes, you hoped you could talk to them and tell you how it made you feel. How did it make you feel? Belittled, angry, annoyed, hurt, degraded…aroused… You had never experienced the brain fog with anyone else other than them. The headspace just seemed to come naturally when you were around them or listening to them talk. 

Even if it was them just listening to you chat about your day, you felt that giddy feeling dance through your body down to core. Any time they praised you especially after doing something you knew you shouldn’t be doing; you felt a high like no other. You hadn’t told them but you had had many dreams of them suddenly appearing somewhere you were like class or the bar and having them fuck you roughly as they spanked you, pulled your hair, and held you down as they made you theirs. 

Your favorites were the ones where they were in your bed and had you tied to the headboard as both took their time with you as you begged and pleaded with them to make you cum. Your lips would ghost their own as their rough hands roamed your body and left bruises you would welcome the next morning. Their eyes would never leave yours as they took from you they wanted and you would repeatedly moan, “Daddy, please.”

Eddie mentioned the title during your last visit and from Steve’s expression you knew he enjoyed it as much as you did but they had hurt you so badly. 

You sigh as you exit the bathroom and quietly grab your pants. 

I’ll give them a few more days to cool off and then I’ll go visit them so we can talk.

As you slide on your shoes, your eyes shifted towards the Polaroid camera resting on the bedside table. 

Fuck me. I hope I didn’t do anything stupid with that thing last night. 

***

October 13th, 1997

Eddie growls loudly as he tears up your letter and throws it in the trash can nearby while Steve continues to stare at the picture of you allowing this boy to kiss what was theirs. 

“Give me that, Steven. I’m going to fucking burn it—”

“No… No. She’s playing the game, Ed. She made this move because she thinks we can’t do anything about it.”

“Because we can’t. UGH! Maybe we jumped too quickly, man. It just fucking hurt us because we don’t get to see her everyday so when she says she’ll call and she doesn’t… “

“Yeah…” Steve taps his fingers against his knee while Eddie takes another drag of his cigarette. “Maybe it’s time to have a talk with her. Show her how much we do care and how much it breaks our hearts when she breaks a promise.”

“She won’t answer out calls or letters.”

“Then we should go to her.”

The metalhead blinks as he nervously chuckles before his friend’s straight face meets his. 

“Nope. Nope. Nuh huh.” As the man begins to walk away, Steve runs after him and tugs on his arm to stop him. “Do you know how much trouble we can get in for even having this conversation? You talk to one wrong person, Steven, and we could be stuck here for another 10 fucking years.”

“What if I found the right person?”

“I…what…how?”

“How much money do you have?”

***

October 31, 1997

You faked a smile as you handed your cash to the cashier and grabbed your bags of candy as you headed for your car. Tonight, you were planning on a night in with some of your friends while handing out treats to some of the neighborhood kids. 

Truth be told, you didn’t want to do anything except curl up in bed and eat the chocolate you bought. You had tried calling the prison a few times but they informed you that neither inmate was accepting calls or visitors at this time. You sent a few letters but hadn’t received anything back as of yet. 

You missed Eddie and Steve so much and it killed you to not be able to speak to them. 

After pulling into your driveway, you hastily checked your mail before running inside to get everything together. 

Once your hair was styled and you slid on your red spaghetti strap dress to make you look like Cher in Clueless, you take a seat on your couch as you wait for your friends to arrive. 

Leaning forward, you decide to sift through the mail pausing suddenly as all the other letters fall to the floor. The envelope was marked from them like all the others and your heart did flips as you hugged the paper to you. 

As you tore the paper open, you half expected to see a lengthy note detailing how much they missed you to and when they’d want to meet with you so you could finally talk. Your stomach dropped as you read and reread the only two sentences written on the single page they sent. 

“Trick or treat, little girl.

See you tonight. 

--Steve & Eddie”

#################

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @micheledawn1975 @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @noooah @baileebear @dashingdeb16 @nailbatanddungeon

[kai-uh-arcadian]

Something you’ll never know

synopsis: you and aeri were inseparable while you were growing up. Is that connection still there?

word count: 15k (jeeez) (it could've been 3 parts but I love you all so much so here you are)

cw: angst, cussing, drinking, f reader, childhood best friends to...(?) idk if there's any i missed please lmk!

notes! So sorry if its a confusing read with the timelines and such. the italic paragraphs are flashbacks/memories! for clarification Aeri and reader are ages 12, 22, and then 30 in this. It's inspired by the movie Past Lives (one of my fav movies, I recommend it!) barely proofread again, I also tried to add extra space in between different scenes, I hope it flows okay!

This is my first angsty fic ever but I had a lot of fun writing it! I really hope you enjoy it and if you'd like to, lmk your thoughts!!

as always dms and asks are always open!

xoxo love youuu (: <3

20 years ago in Southern California,  SM Elementary School

Ever since you can remember, Aeri Uchinaga has been a constant presence in your life. You first met in preschool, where she quickly took a liking to you for reasons you couldn't quite understand. As a ‘slow-to-warm-up’ child, you were perfectly fine with doing quiet activities on your own while your classmates ran around, chatting amongst themselves. But Aeri must have seen you as a challenge or a game, maybe? She was determined to crack the ice and see what lay beneath your quiet exterior. She would always join you at the drawing table and start rambling about a variety of things that crossed her mind or even go as far as sharing her stuffed animals with you when she saw you playing ‘family’ alone with your own.

And before you knew it, she had you hooked. Aeri was more outspoken than you at the time, and she often took the reins in your friendship, but you were (more than) happy to follow her lead. You quickly learned that she had a habit of charging in head first, and it became your unspoken mission to keep her from getting into too much trouble.

You promised yourself that you'd always be there supporting her from behind.

You dribbled the soccer ball skillfully toward the goal, weaving through defenders with ease. Just as you were about to score, a loud yelp from the basketball court made you stop dead in your tracks. Your hesitation cost you as a player from the opposing team slid in, tackling you. Pain shot through your leg as your planted foot twisted in a way that it should NOT twist.

You got up from the ground and ignored the pain as you waved to a classmate on the sideline to take your place on the field. You limped as quickly as you could toward the court from the field, fighting back tears. The adrenaline kept you moving.

Eventually you made it to the basketball court where Aeri was.

“Are you okay?” you asked as you reached a hurt Aeri, who was hissing slightly at the sight of her skinned knee. Almost every ounce of pain washed away when you saw her.

She looked up, surprised, as your shadow blocked the sun. To her, you probably looked like an angel.

“Y/n,” she sniffled, “Where did you come from?”

“I was just playing soccer,” you replied, kneeling in front of her and offering your back. “Here, hop on. Let’s get you to the nurse.”

“Mm~ okay,” Aeri shyly mumbled as she climbed onto your back, resting her chin in the crook of your neck as you hobbled toward the infirmary.

“How did you know I was hurt?” she inquired softly.

“I dunno, my Aeri instincts must've kicked in... But you do have a pretty distinctive scream that I could hear all the way from the soccer field” You chuckled

“Ah~! What!? That’s so embarrassing!” She buried her face into your neck. “Why did you come over? You said you were playing soccer?”

“Well yeah I was, but remember when we were five and had our first sleepover?” you asked, chuckling. “Ya know, the one where you couldn’t stop crying because you missed your parents, especially your mom.”

“Hey! Why bring that up now?” she groaned, playfully hitting your back with her fists. “It wasn’t my choice! My parents were busy with work, okay!”

“Nono~ we made a pinky promise, remember? I told you, ‘I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.’ And I vaguely remember claiming I’d be your prince or somethin' like that.. I’m just keeping my word.” You smiled at the memory.

“That was like seven years ago…I can't believe you even remember that” she sighed contentedly. “Well, thank you, my prince.” she let out a teasing chuckle

“Of course, Lady Aeri,” you replied in a playful, formal tone, adjusting her higher on your back with a little hop.

There was a small break of silence before Aeri took notice of the cadence of your steps.

“...Wait, are you limping?” Her tone suddenly turned serious, like a mother about to scold her child.

“Uh…” You hesitated, “No…?” you chuckled nervously hoping she'd drop the topic (she didn't).

She peeked over your shoulder and saw your left ankle, red and beginning to swell.

“Ah~! What happened!? Let me down, I can walk! You idiot!” she exclaimed, trying to wriggle off your back.

“No way! We’re almost there anyways, and all this wiggling isn’t helping the pain either!” you bickered with the girl on your back before finally reaching the school entrance.

After school, your mom tended to your hurt ankle. It wasn’t anything serious, just a mild sprain. You worked silently on your assignment before she spoke up.

“Y/n, honey~” your mom cooed before sitting down next to you at the kitchen table while you were doing homework. “What do you think about Aeri? Do you like her?”

“Hmm,” You hummed while  placing your pencil down as memories of her flooded your mind.

One specific memory came to the forefront of your mind,

You and Aeri were laying in the lush grass together with your heads touching and holding hands.

“Aeri, look!” You pointed to the sky “I see a shark.. Or maybe a really  big tuna?” a playful giggle escaped your lips 

“Mhm~!” she agreed, “Look over there! Doesn’t that look like Haku from Spirited Away?” Aeri’s eyes widened in excitement as her favorite character appeared in the sky, her finger excitedly pointing 

“Yeah! I think it does!” You stole a glance of her. 

Her eyes were glued to the blue sky adorned with fluffy white clouds that looked like they felt like cotton candy. The sun reflected against her dark brown hair and made it look like a beautiful dark ocean rippling in the wind

It was a cool summer day. A gentle breeze wafted her scent of strawberry shampoo and a light rose scent from her deodorant. The sky stretched over both of you like a blue canvas with puffy cotton balls. The warmth of the sunshine wrapped the two of you into an embrace only you both could feel.

 You stared at her with so much… happiness? While she pointed out various shapes, her face lit up more and more each time she spotted one

“What is this feeling?” You thought “It feels like i’m going down a steep slope of a rollercoaster when I’m around her”

“Hm~ Y/n? Is there something on my face? Did you hear me?” She briefly stopped her tangent when she felt a soft gaze.

“Oh~! No sorry,” You giggled

“I- just” you began barely above a whisper

“Wow, look!” Aeri unknowingly cut you off “Those ones look like two hearts about to mash together” she exclaimed giddily

Your gaze went back to the clouds and you paused  for a few seconds causing Aeri to look at you

“Were you gonna say something?” She mumbled and you met her eyes

“I’m just.. Really happy right now!” you said, unable to verbalize the feelings you were having.

“I like her” you replied to your mom

“Ohh~”She nodded in response before genuinely inquiring “Why?” 

“Well… She said I’m like her prince” she responded to her mother so nonchalantly and innocently

“Her prince?”

“Mhm, I think i’ll marry her one day” You smiled before picking up your pencil again-- completely unphased.

“Mm~ I see, I see. Well Y/n, does she want to marry you, too?” 

“I don't know if she likes me too, but if she does I know she'll say when we’re ready!” She smiled brightly at her mom 

“Ah okay~ When did you grow up my sweet daughter?” Your mom lightly pinched your cheek which caused you to giggle. “Well, I was on the phone with her mom earlier... Do you want to go on a date with her?"

Of course you excitedly nodded your head in agreement

You and Aeri stepped into the park, nature wrapped around you two like a comforting hug. The trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves left a playful pattern of light and shadows on the ground below. While birds chirped happily overhead, their songs blending with the soft rustle of leaves, creating a soothing melody that seemed to dance through the air. Both of your mom’s made their way to a nearby spot to watch you both 

“Aeri! Let’s go” You said as you grabbed her free hand 

“Oh~ Ma, can you hold these?” Aeri swiftly passed the small bouquet of flowers you had bought her to her mother before being whisked away by your eager pull

“Oh!”  was all Mrs.Uchinaga could get out before the two of you ran off exploring the park. She couldn’t contain her laughter and began to take a digital camera out of her purse.

“They look good together, so happy huh?” Your mom glanced at Mrs.Uchinaga as she was snapping a picture of the two of you running hand in hand in the luscious green field. 

“Yeah~ Aeri talks about Y/n a lot. She says she wants to marry her one day” Her mom let out an astonished laugh “When did our girls grow up?

“That’s exactly what Y/n said! “ She laughed, “We can’t be too surprised right?

"Ah~ I guess not." Aeri's mom began, "Remember that time we kept Y/n overnight once and Aeri was crying uncontrollably and then suddenly stopped? My god, it was so scary! I thought something had happened to her but when I checked the baby monitor, Y/n snuck out of her own crib and into Aeri’s! And then they fell asleep like that!” She laughed with a tinge of nostalgic sadness 

“Ahh~ They were about two and a half years old huh? Oh~! Remember that time I told you when I put them in charge of her brother while I was making them lunch and when I walked back into the living room and found all of them asleep on the couch with Kosei in between them! It was so cute~!” Your mom smiled brightly “I have the photo somewhere still!” 

Both you parents sighed contentedly, reminiscing on you two. After a bit of comfortable silence, you mom spoke up

“My Y/n cares about Aeri a lot. I can see she does too, it puts my heart at ease to know my daughter has someone who cares so deeply about her.” Your mom’s eyes began to get a bit watery

Mrs. Uchinaga placed her hand reassuringly over hers, a warm smile gracing her lips. "She's a smart girl—you shouldn’t worry too much. I'm forever grateful she's been in my Aeri's life. Look at them," she pointed affectionately at the two of you, nestled under the low-hanging branches of the weeping willow tree.

"Aeri! This is where we can take our shoes off," you exclaimed, gently parting the "curtain" of leaves as if entering a secret world.

Your imagination ran wild, the simple weeping willow tree transformed into a spacious apartment in a bustling city.

"And here is where our dining room is," Aeri chimed in, moving to the large stones and pretending they were seats. "Here, sit. Let me get you a coffee, honey," she playfully immersed herself in the game of house.

Aeri returned with a hollowed out rock with a stick in it, “Here’s your coffee!”

You pretend slurped through the stick straw, “This is soo~ delicious” and you fake slurped more causing both of you to giggle

“Hey, Aeri” you placed the rock coffee cup down and Aeri joined you at the “dining table”

“Where do you wanna live when you grow up?” you met her gaze

“Mmm, definitely a city. I want my fashion business to be very popular!” She flashed a cheerful thumbs up “What about you?”

“Mm..” You looked down, shyly contemplating

“Are you getting shy?!” She gently nudged your shoulder teasing you

“Nono~!” You waved your hands in defense while a smile appeared on your face “Hm.. I guess wherever you go?”

While you and Aeri played house, imagining your future together, your parents sat nearby on the park bench in comfortable silence, smiling as they watched the two of you. A gentle breeze drifted through, rustling the leaves and carrying the scent of blooming flowers through the air, adding to the peaceful moment.

“We’re moving soon,” Aeri’s mom finally said, breaking the quiet. Which explained why she asked to take them on a 'date'

Your mom didn’t respond right away, her gaze still on you and Aeri. After a few more beats, she spoke, doing her best to mask her emotions. “Oh… where?”

“South Korea,” Aeri’s mom replied softly.

Your mom paused, her voice steady but tinged with sadness. “Why leave everything behind?”

“There are better opportunities ahead than the ones we’ll leave behind,” Aeri’s mom answered with a quiet sigh, as if trying to convince herself as much as anyone else.

Later, on the car ride home, you and Aeri had both fallen asleep in the backseat, your hands still clasped together, oblivious to the change that was coming. Your mom glanced back at the two of you and with a bittersweet smile, she snapped a quick photo.

Neither of you knew how much your lives would change in the next few weeks.

You sat at your desk, your gaze unfocused as you stared blankly ahead, lost in a haze of thoughts that swirled around you like fog. Aeri’s voice cut through the noise, her laughter ringing out as she animatedly chatted with her friends nearby. Her vibrant energy filled the room, lighting up the space, yet somehow, it made the gap between you two feel even wider. You were in the same room, but it felt like you were worlds apart—both of you in your own little world.

"You're leaving?" one of her friends exclaimed, disbelief in her voice.

"Yeah!" Aeri replied, her excitement unmistakable.

"Never coming back?" another girl pressed, curiosity laced her voice.

"I don’t think so!" Aeri laughed, her tone light, almost carefree.

"What?! Why not!?" the girl pushed further, as if she couldn’t fathom the idea.

"Well.. I could never become a fashion designer here!" Aeri giggled, like her answer was obvious… like she wasn’t about to leave behind everything you had known together.

After school, you found yourself walking past Aeri as she waved her friends goodbye. Her cheerful farewell echoed behind you as you caught a glimpse of her. Her smile was as bright as ever, but for the first time, it felt distant—like it no longer belonged to you.

"Oh, bye!" she called out to her friends, her voice cheerful before turning her attention to you. 

"Wait up!" she hurried to catch up with your steps.

You slowed down slightly, but something in you hesitated.

"Oh, sorry," you murmured.

She quickly caught up and the two of you began the familiar walk home, the silence between you felt heavier than ever. Aeri seemed comfortable, at ease with the quiet, but for you, the weight in your chest grew with every step. Even though she was right beside you, it felt like she was already slipping away—like an invisible wall was growing between you, expanding with each moment.

It was disorienting, jarring even, to think that after today, she wouldn’t be walking next to you every day like she had since kindergarten. Each footstep echoed what was coming, and despite the comfort of routine, the reality of her departure pressed down on you, suffocating the words you wanted to say but couldn’t find.

The world around continued its hustle and bustle, completely indifferent to the storm brewing in your heart. Cars rushed by, bikes whizzed past, and people hurried along the sidewalk, insensitive to the internal chaos you were grappling with.

Every emotion flooded through you, leaving you drowning in a mix of sadness and anger. Each step felt trudging through quicksand as if your feet had been stuck in concrete. Your body was subconsciously pulling you away from your house to prolong your inevitable separation– like a dog who doesn’t want their walk to be over yet.

As you reached the fork in the road that diverged toward your respective houses, a heavy cloud hung above your head, thick with everything you wanted to say.

"Bye, n/n," Aeri's voice carried a tinge of melancholy as she began to walk away, her figure receding into the distance.

You paused, unable to tear your gaze away from her retreating form.

Every memory you’ve shared with her played in your head like a movie montage.

“C’mon Aeri, don’t be scared! I’m right here with you!” You aggressively whispered while carrying a bag of snacks and a blanket, trying to convince Aeri onto the roof of your house

“What if we get in trouble? What if we get locked out and we’re stuck here forever!” Aeri said to you from inside through the opened window 

“My parents know I do this, it’s a flat surface so you have to be a real dummy to slip off! And don’t worry, it only locks from the inside and if you’re scared you can just hold onto me!” You reached out your hand to Aeri

She couldn't help but smile, your own reassuring grin reflecting back at her. She warmly accepted your hand, her breath hitched when your hands made contact.

“O-oh thanks, let’s place the blanket down!” Aeri was glad it was dark because she was sure her face was the same shade as a tomato!

"Not too shabby, huh?" You chuckled lightly, settling onto the soft surface and patting the spot beside you, inviting her to join you.

It was a warm summer night. A gentle breeze wafted your scent of shampoo and a cologne-y scent from your deodorant. The sky stretched over both of you like a dark blue canvas with twinkling stars. The warmth of the evening wrapped the two of you into an embrace only you both could feel.

You felt her staring at you while you pointed out various constellations, your face lit up more and more each time you spotted one

“Hm, Aeri? Did you hear me?” You briefly stopped your tangent when you felt a soft gaze on you

“Oh~! No sorry,” Aeri giggled “What did you say?”

You scooted closer so your head was touching hers, “See those stars over there? It’s kinda like a weird looking 7?” You extended your arm while pointing, trying your best to point out three out of the millions of stars in the sky

“Hm.. oh! Yes!”

“That’s me! And your birthday is October 30 making you a Scorpio! and hmm” You began to move your pointer finger to search in the sky

“Ah! There! You see that pattern that kind of looks like a snake with claws?”

“Yeah~ I actually do!” Aeri giggled as her imagination took over

“Well, Aeri if you ever feel sad or something and I’m not with you for some reason ” You chuckled sweetly. “I just want you to know that we’re always together in the sky!” You both turned to meet each other’s gaze at the same time 

“Well I don’t think we’ll ever get separated, I want to be with you forever!” She innocently beamed which caused you both to giggle 

“Me too Aeri!”

After a few hesitant moments, you found your voice, though it felt as if your heart might stop with the effort.

“Aeri,” you called out softly, the word heavy with all the feelings you had kept buried for so long.

“Mm?” She turned to face you, her expression softening when her eyes met yours, and the cheerful energy from earlier was nowhere to be found.

“I.. I like you,” you said, your voice trembling slightly, but you held her gaze, resisting the urge to look away. You felt as though you might crumble, but you forced yourself to keep going. “I’m glad we spent our childhood.. together.”

Her smile faltered, shifting into something sadder, something that you couldn't understand. She didn’t respond immediately, as if the words you’d just said had stolen her breath, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. She was at a loss for words and the silence stretched endlessly between you.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying desperately to maintain your composure. “Bye… Aeri,” you added softly, your voice cracking ever so slightly as you turned away towards your house, trying to put on a brave face.

You couldn’t bear to see the sadness in her eyes any longer. Tears threatened to spill, but you fought them back, willing yourself to hold on just a little longer.

“Bye..” she faintly whispered out

The moment you started walking toward your house, your chest tightened. Tears streamed down your face as the weight of the world as you knew it came crashing down.

What you'll never know and what you couldn’t see, was that Aeri began crying too.

About 10 years later, you sat at your desk in your cozy apartment room at UCLA, the late afternoon sun casting soft rays across the scattered textbooks and notes. With a sigh, you pushed some papers aside to rest your elbow on the desk, propping your chin on your hand.

“How the actual fuck do I even solve this?” you muttered to yourself, staring at the confusing statistics problem on your laptop. After a moment of frustration, you searched for a tutorial on YouTube, hoping for a miracle.

As you scrolled through the list of videos, you could hear your roommate Yunjin bustling around in the kitchen.

“Jennie-poo~!” you called out, leaning back in your chair. “Can you come here?”

A few seconds later, you heard your door creak open. "Huh?" came Yunjin's voice, her (dyed) red hair poking around the doorframe as she stepped inside.

“Do you have any idea how to solve this?” you asked, switching your browser back to the page filled with complex formulas. You pointed at the screen. “I seriously have no clue what they’re even fucking asking”

Yunjin leaned down, squinting at the problem for a moment before laughing. “Yeah, I’m gonna be honest with you—zero clue. You’re so fucked,” she said, still giggling.

Yunjin, aka Jennifer, was from upstate New York, and the two of you had been roommates for four years. It felt like fate sometimes—being assigned to live together your freshman year was totally random, but she was practically you in a different form.

“You’re absolutely no help,” you groaned, laughing a little despite yourself as you buried your face in your hands.

“You’re so welcome,” she said, patting your head playfully. “I’m gonna make some jjajangmyeon, do you want any?”

“Not right now. Maybe save some for me later? I gotta finish this shit” you replied, sitting back up and stretching.

“Yeah, of course. Good luck!” Yunjin said with a wink as she left your room.

You sighed deeply as you turned back to your YouTube tab, clicking on a video tutorial. As fucking expected, an ad began to play—one of those painfully long ones you couldn’t skip.

“Do you want to be a model? Do you think you have what it takes?”

The words faded into the background as your mind started to wander, pulled back by an unexpected memory.

Aeri.

It had been so long since you’d allowed yourself to think about her. Years, even. But something about the mention of fashion, pulled you back into the past. The past where she lived, where her dreams had once shone so brightly.

Aeri had always talked about becoming a fashion designer—about where she'd live and make a name for herself. You could still picture her so clearly, sitting beside you, messily sketching her ideas in her notebooks. Dresses, bags, runway looks… She used to tell you all about it, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

“I could never become a designer here,” she’d said once, laughing. She was always so sure of her path. Always ready to go after her dreams, no matter the cost.

She may have been right

Suddenly, the thought of her became overwhelming. You couldn’t help but wonder what had become of that dream. Did she make it? Was she in South Korea, living the life she’d always wanted? Or had things turned out differently?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as your mind drifted back to the memory of her laughter and the way she’d talked about her plans with ABSOLUTE certainty.

Without thinking, you opened a new tab. You hesitated for a moment, a tightness in your chest returning. 

A memory flashed into your mind to when you were having a sleepover with her

“Y/n…” Aeri’s voice came softly from the left side of your bed, sadness creeping into her usual playful tone.

“Mm? What’s wrong?” you asked, glancing over at her.

“I wish you wanted to be a model,” she pouted. “Then you could try on the clothes I design.”

You laughed softly. “I mean, I still could... Why are you thinking about that now?”

“Well, obviously I want to be a designer! SO of course I want you to be the first person to wear the clothes I make,” she beamed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

The video kept playing and the math tutorial began playing. 

Why the hell am I thinking about that now? It’s been like 10 years?

 Aeri Uchinaga…

You leaned back in your chair and positioned your head towards the ceiling

What are you up to…

With a sigh, you slingshotted forward and opened Facebook and began to search.

After an hour of searching, you finally found a lead—her father’s company page. It was a bit tedious to find her or her family, considering they lived in a completely different country.

“Hi, I’m looking for my childhood best friend, Aeri Uchinaga . Please let me know how I can contact her.”

And with that, you posted the message and, for the first time in hours, tried to return to your homework.

A few weeks later, on the complete opposite side of the world at 5:30 PM in Seoul...

Aeri sat in her dorm, the warm afternoon sunlight streaming through the window as she lounged on her bed, phone pressed to her ear, laptop resting in her lap.

“Ne~ umma, remember Xinyi? She plays basketball in college now!” Aeri said with a smile, scrolling through Facebook while chatting with her mother.

“Wow~! I’m not surprised,” Mrs. Uchinaga replied with a chuckle on the other end. “She was always knocking on our door, asking you to play.”

Aeri laughed lightly. “Yeah, even though I was pretty bad. She tried so hard to teach me, but I was just ass”

“It’s okay, darling. Sports weren’t really your thing,” her mother comforted warmly.

Aeri absentmindedly scrolled through her feed, clicking on old profiles and updates from people she hadn’t thought about in years.

“Who else should we look up?” She asked her mom.

Aeri paused, a small smile creeping onto her lips. “Who’s the one I had a huge crush on?”

“Y/n L/n” they both said at the same time, sharing a laugh.

Aeri’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, and she began typing your name, curiosity piqued as she searched for her old crush. As she clicked through posts, she suddenly froze.

“Umma! This is crazy!” Aeri exclaimed, her voice full of shock. “She posted on dad’s Facebook page a few weeks ago looking for me!”

“Oh wow really? Well~ I’m not too surprised, Aeri. She really liked you!” her mom replied, her voice filled with warmth.

“I’m looking for my childhood best friend, Aeri Uchinaga ...” Aeri read aloud to her mom as her eyes scanned the message.

Aeri’s heart raced as she scrolled through your profile. Even though your hair was longer and your features were more defined, the essence of you—the same joyful glint in your eyes—hadn’t changed at all. It was as if time hadn’t erased any part of the person she remembered so vividly.

“Umma, I’ll call you back,” Aeri said quickly, cutting her mom off as she reassured her with a chuckle, “Yes! I promise I’m eating well!”

She ended the call with a smile, but her pulse quickened as she stared at the screen. Her eyes scanned the message again and again, as if reading your name over and over would somehow make this more real.

“Ahh~” Aeri inhaled deeply, her fingers trembling slightly as she sent you a friend request and began typing a message to you.

“Y/n! It’s Aeri, you remember me?”

It was 1:30 AM in your on-campus apartment in LA when your phone buzzed, receiving the new message.

“Fuck her! She doesn’t deserve you! You’re like… sooo out of her league,” Yuna mumbled to your other friend, Ryujin, as she poured another shot for her.

“Right?” Ryujin sighed before pausing to take the shot. “I just don’t know why I miss her… so much,” she grimaced as the alcohol hit the back of her throat.

“Ryu, you should have some water,” you slurred, hiccuping as you passed her your water bottle.

“Y/nn~ how about you drink some water,” your roommate Yunjin chimed in, giggling as she slumped over on the couch.

The four of you sat in the living room, post-gaming the bar, waiting for your DoorDash to arrive. Ryujin rested her head in your lap, and without thinking, you rubbed her back to comfort her.

You took a long gulp of water with a satisfied “Ah~” before reaching for your beer.

“Wellll~ Beer is basically water. You should have some too Jennie-poo! It isn’t a post-game if we don’t drink till we die,” you exclaimed, taking a sip from the can.

“UGH~” Ryujin groaned, deadpanning, “I want to die~”

“Girl, she literally cheated on you and then wanted to be exclusive while she was fucking someone else—like, what?” Yuna added, deadpan.

That comment made all of you burst out laughing(she was right), even as Ryujin lightly punched Yuna in the arm.

“Hey~! Be niceeee~ Show some compassion!” Yunjin scolded, trying and failing to stifle her laughter.

You were still chuckling when your phone buzzed again in your pocket. Grabbing it, you blinked a couple of times, trying to focus your eyes on the notification.

Giselle?

Your vision was still a little too blurry to make sense of it.

"Hey!" Yunjin faked being cold

“You have a secret girlfriend or somethin'?” Yunjin teased, sounding just like a jealous girlfriend.

“Huh?” you responded, still distracted.

“Who’s messaging you at 1:30 in the morning? You have a sneaky link you’re not telling us about?” Yunjin continued, laughing.

Meanwhile, Ryujin was still moping in your lap. “Hey! Sensitive subject!” she groaned dramatically.

“Fuck if I know, I honestly have zero clue,” you mumbled, your words slurring as you stared at your phone before turning it off.

The next morning, you woke up in your bed with a slight headache. You groaned, rolling over to reach for your water bottle and chugged it like it was the last water on Earth.

The cold water worked its magic, refreshing you enough to (barely) function. You grabbed your phone from the charger and started scrolling through your notifications, still half-asleep. But then, one notification made you freeze—last night’s Facebook message.

You clicked on it, your grogginess instantly fading as your eyes widened in surprise. It was from none other than the girl who made you experience your first instance of love—Aeri Uchinaga.

“Giselle Uchinaga?” you muttered to yourself, reading her profile in disbelief.

That’s why you couldn’t find her!  It made complete sense now. Her features were more mature, but that familiar smile—the one that had always warmed your heart—was still there, lighting up her face in every picture. You couldn’t stop smiling as you scrolled through her photos.

Just then, Yunjin’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to reality.

“Y/n! Are you awake? I made avocado toast and eggs!” she announced from the other side of your door.

“Ahh~ okay, yeah, lemme pee and I’ll be out!” you called back, your voice still raspy from sleep.

You quickly splashed some water on your face and pulled on a pair of sweats and a hoodie before stepping out of your room.

“Good morning!” you chirped, only to be met with a synchronized groan from Yuna and Ryujin.

“How the fuck do you have this much energy? What puts you in such a good mood?” Yuna asked, holding an ice pack on her forehead.

“Hm?” you replied, walking over to your coffee cup on the table that Yunjin had filled for you. “Thank Jennie-poo! And nothing, I just don’t have a massive hangover like you two idiots—should’ve drank beer instead of taking shots”

As you sipped your coffee, your mind of course, drifted back to last night. That damn text from Aeri.

The two of you exchanged a few quick messages, exchanging numbers, and catching up briefly before settling on a time that worked best for both of you to video call. It felt surreal, reading Aeri’s replies after all these years—like time had somehow folded in on itself, bringing the past back into the present.

You found yourself staring at your phone, the FaceTime app open and ready, but your heart pounding in your chest. What if things had changed too much? What if she wasn’t the Aeri you remembered? What if you weren’t the person she expected? Your thoughts spiraled as you adjusted your hair for what felt like the tenth time.

It’s just a call, you reminded yourself. It’s just Aeri. You’ve known her before.

But even though you’d told yourself that a hundred times, the butterflies in your stomach wouldn’t settle. The phone buzzed in your hand as the screen lit up. Incoming FaceTime: Aeri Uchinaga.

You took a deep breath, your thumb hovering over the screen for a moment longer than it should have. Then, finally, you swiped to answer.

Aeri’s face appeared, pixelated for just a second before the connection stabilized. There she was. Her familiar eyes, her smile—the same, but different? You stared at each other for a beat, neither of you quite sure how to start.

Aeri broke the silence with a nervous laugh. “Wow.. it’s been so long. I almost forgot what you looked like!”

You smiled, feeling the same rush of emotions you hadn’t felt in years. “I know right? I wasn’t sure what to expect either. You look… different. In a good way, of course.” nervousness still present in your voice

“Same to you,” Aeri said, her voice softening as she studied your face. “It’s like, you’ve changed, but... not really, you know?”

You laughed, the tension beginning to ease. “Except now you’re Giselle, huh?”

Aeri grinned, rolling her eyes playfully. “Yeah, that’s a long story. But trust me, it’s still me. Aeri Uchinaga at heart.”

You both chuckled, the ice slowly breaking as the conversation started to feel more familiar. It was strange, seeing her face again like this after so many years—older, more mature, but still with that same smile.

“Soo.. You’re really out there becoming a designer, huh?” you teased, shaking your head with an incredulous smile. “It’s kind of wild thinking about you... you know, living in Korea and actually doing all the things you told me you would like years ago”

Aeri laughed, her tone warm but modest. “Don’t let social media fool you. I’m not as glamorous as it seems. I’m still the same girl who couldn’t shoot a basketball to save her life.”

You grinned, shaking your head. “Oh god yeah! I remember! You were sooo bad. I thought for sure you were going to quit after that first fall.”

“Whatever! I literally was just trying to impress you,” she joked, her laugh lighting up the screen.

With each passing minute, the conversation felt easier. The laughter flowed naturally, memories of your childhood together resurfacing as if no time had passed at all.

“So... how have you been, really?” Aeri asked after a while, her tone more serious now. “I feel like I missed so much. of your life"

You nodded, the weight of the years between you sinking in. “Yeah, it feels strange, I feel the same too. I’ve been good, I guess. But seeing you like this… I dunno.. It feels like yesterday, you were just that little girl on the other side of the road from me.”

Aeri smiled, her expression softening. “Right? I don’t know, life is so weird sometimes.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, a small smile tugging at your lips. “And now, you’re the girl on my screen.”

As the night went on, you both talked about everything—your lives, your dreams, the things you had wanted to say but never got the chance to. It was like reconnecting with a part of yourself you thought you’d lost. By the end of the call, there was an unspoken understanding between you both. This wasn’t just a one-off conversation.

“So, let’s not wait another decade to do this again?” you said with a grin.

Aeri laughed. “Deal. Next time, I’ll tell you the full story behind ‘Giselle.’”

“I’m holding you to that, Aeri” you replied, your heart feeling lighter than it had in years.

And that’s how it was. For a few months, you both shared everything—your days, your worries, even the smallest details. You started waiting for her calls, looking forward to the time you’d spend talking. She was always there, her laughter filling your nights(and early mornings!), making you feel closer to her despite the distance.

It was almost as if you were in a relationship. The way she looked at you through the screen, the way your conversations lingered on hopes and what-ifs. You could almost imagine what it would be like to be with her again, for real.

You routinely called Aeri during your day. 

Hey,” you greeted with a smile as the screen connected.

“Hey,” Aeri chuckled softly on the other end.

“Is it 7:00 in the morning there? I thought you said you never wake up before 10:00,” you teased, noting how early it was for her.

“I don’t,” Aeri replied, a smile tugging at her lips. “But this was the only time that worked for you, right?”

“Well yeah but don’t you have class today?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeahh~” she admitted, “but it’s later~” sleepiness still evident in her voice

You couldn’t help but tease her. “Ya know Aeri, your english is pretty rusty”

“Hey!” Aeri chuckled in return and her eyes opened slightly. “I only speak English with you and my mom!”

You both laughed yet some silence strung between the two of you

“So, you said you were leaving California to be the world’s greatest designer... You still want that?”

Aeri paused for a moment while shifting in her bed, then smiled. “Hmm... I think maybe I’ll have a business like.. My own line of clothes”

“Ahh wow~” You sighed, “ You’re the same Aeri I remember. Wanting to do everything, have everything and also still so sassy.” you teased again

She laughed, feigning shock. “Sassy? Wow, can’t believe you think of me like that”

Aeri’s grin widened before continuing,  “Actually... I got invited to Japan this summer to design for this brand for a whole month. My professor helped me get into the program!”

“Wait, so you’ll be in Japan for a month?” you asked, surprised. “That’s amazing.”

“Yeah,” Aeri nodded, her excitement palpable. “It’s crazy. I can’t believe it’s happening.”

“So, how are your applications going?” she asked, her voice softening.

“Hmm, wellll~ they’re going,” you replied with a small smile. “I’m looking at Boston for grad school.”

Aeri sighed, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. “Ah wow, look at us.. when did we grow up? It feels like we’re almost... truly adults.”

“Hmm, I know,” you agreed, a thoughtful pause hanging between you. “Too soon though.”

You hung up shortly after and went about your day. You studied with Yunjin, and later, the girls came over for dinner, followed by a late-night study session. By the time you showered and finally settled into bed, it was already 1 AM when your phone buzzed—Aeri was calling.

“Hello?” You mumbled out as you turned your lamp on

“Oh sorry, were you sleeping?” she asked, her face slightly blurry on the screen.

“Mm,” you sighed softly, rubbing your eyes. “No, I just got into bed, actually.”

“Long day?”

“Mhm, but that’s alright. What’s up?” you asked, shifting into a more comfortable position and reaching for your glasses.

“I’m just.. in Haebonchang right now,” she said, flipping the camera to show the view. “Look how beautiful the sunset is, Y/n.”

The sunset was breathtaking, shades of pink, orange, and purple blending into each other like a painting across the sky.

“Wow... it’s beautiful, Aeri,” you said in awe.

Aeri’s voice softened before she flipped the camera back to herself. “Yeah... I wish you were here,” she said quietly, her eyes flickering between the camera and the fading light.

There was a pause, her words lingering in the space between you.

“Maybe one day.. We could go there together,” you whispered, your voice tinged with sadness.

“Yeah.. I’d really like that,” Aeri responded, her tone gentle but carrying the weight of something more.

There was a brief second of silence. As if both of you were hesitating to speak up.

“I miss you,” you whispered, barely audible, your voice filled with longing. Time zones didn’t matter, distance didn’t matter. You really just longed for Aeri. 

Those three words heavily hung in the air between you two.

“I miss you too,” Aeri quietly admitted, her voice soft but sincere, resistance evident in her confession. 

The day after that interaction, things started to feel different. The FaceTime calls slowly became more sparse, and her texts were less frequent. You tried not to overthink it, giving her the space you thought she might need. But as the days passed, the silence began to weigh on you. Eventually, you double texted  her, unable to ignore any longer.

“Aeri, is everything okay?”

For the first time in days, her response came instantly.

“Yeah sorry, I’m okay. I just have something on my mind. Can we call later?”

Her words did nothing to ease your nerves.

“Of course,” you typed back, keeping it simple, though your heart raced.

 The uncertainty gnawed at you, the anxiety tightening in your chest as you stared at the screen.

Finally, what felt like days but in reality was just a few hours, Aeri called you.

You hesitantly answered “Hey Aeri, you okay?”

There was a pause, and that’s when you knew it didn’t seem promising.

“Y/n,” she began softly, her face on the screen appearing hesitant, almost conflicted.

“..Aeri?” you prompted gently, your voice unsure now.

She sighed deeply, her gaze dropping for a second before meeting yours again. “Y/n… I need to talk to you about something.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah I know, what’s going on? You okay?”

“When is it possible for you to visit me in Seoul?” she asked bluntly, though her tone remained soft.

You hesitated. “Well, maybe about a year or so? Just with grad schoo–”

She cut you off gently,  “I know.. You don’t have to explain yourself, I just– God,” She paused as if holding herself back from admitting something. “It’ll be over a year and a half until I can visit you”

Your eyes stayed glued to the screen, watching her struggle to compose herself. The pit in your stomach deepened

Aeri swallowed hard, clearly struggling with her next words. “I think we should stop talking for a while”

Your chest tightened.

 “Why?”

“I came here..” She began, “ No– I’ve had this goal since forever. I want to accomplish something here but.. I can’t stop myself from looking up flights to California every day. 

And I think… I think I need to focus on committing my life here”

You blinked, the realization slowly sinking in. She was leaving again.

“So you want.. to stop talking to me?” Your words trailed off, unsure of how to finish that thought or if there’s anything more you could possibly say.

“Just for now,” she said quietly, her eyes softening with what seemed like guilt. “And I really don’t want to lose you. But I know.. I have to give this my all.”

You bit your lip, trying to keep the lump in your throat from forming. “Aeri.. It took me 10 years to find you.” 

She looked down again, exhaling slowly trying to fight a sob from coming out. “I know Y/n, but I’ll be back before you know it.. It’s just a brief break”

Fuck

You nodded slowly, though your heart ached. “Alright then Aeri ”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was barely above a whisper now. “I’m so sorry” She began to cry.

“No need to be sorry,” You said as you choked back your own tears, clearing your throat to cover it.  “We weren’t dating or anything so don’t worry about it. Really.”

There was a long pause, the silence between you filled with all the things neither of you were ready to say.

“Take care of yourself and good luck, okay?” Aeri said, her voice soft but final.

“You too,” you replied, your throat tight, the words barely escaping. “I’ll be right here.”

The call ended, and for the first time in months, the silence felt unbearable.

Aeri never knew that this was the hardest you cried in years.

Whoever said times heals everything, is a straight up liar. Time doesn’t heal, it just lets you get used to how things are now.

It had been about eight years since you had last spoken to her and honestly, you didn’t think much of Aeri anymore. Life had moved on, as it does. Although, there were days when you’d think back on everything but those thoughts were extremely rare now, fleeting, like a distant memory and it didn’t sting the way it used to. You’d convinced yourself that was just how things went. People come and go, and life moves forward whether you’re ready or not.

Once you graduated and started your new job in Boston not long after. You settled into a routine that felt strange at first but eventually became your new normal

Somehow, you managed to entice Yunjin to move to Boston. She had moved into a place not too far from yours with her (now!) fiance. Her sister also lives in Boston too so the transition wasn’t too hard. Yuna and Ryujin had ended up in New York, so weekends/every other weekend often meant catching a train to visit them or planning get-togethers whenever everyone’s schedules aligned.

Your 9-to-5 job wasn’t glamorous, but it was steady—something you could rely on. You fell into the rhythm of it quickly enough. The crowded subway rides during rush hour, the packed streets of Boston, the distant hum of the city became part of your daily routine. You’d slip into your office, get your work done, and slip out at the end of the day. It wasn’t what you imagined back when you were chasing dreams in California, picturing something a little more exciting, maybe a little more daring. But it wasn’t bad either—it was.. just comfortable.

After work, you'd sometimes grab a drink with coworkers or meet up with the woman you’d met shortly after getting into grad school. There was nothing too serious between the two of you, just the occasional dinners or casual hangouts. She was fun to be around—easygoing, good company, someone you could relax with. You’d meet up after work at a bar downtown, sharing a drink and small talk about your days. Or sometimes, you’d catch a movie or grab takeout, sitting side by side on the couch in her small apartment, talking about work or random things that made you laugh.

It wasn’t the life-altering-head-over-heels kind of thing, but it felt normal, almost comforting. There was no pressure to be anything more than it was or used to be, and that was fine with you both. Life had settled into place without much fanfare, a quiet routine that you didn’t mind..

It wasn’t until one quiet evening, after a long day at work, that something finally disrupted your routine. You were sitting on the couch, nursing a beer, and scrolling through your phone without much thought, letting the noise of the day slowly fade away.

That was until a notification lit up your screen. You glanced at it out of habit, not expecting anything important. But the name made you pause.

Aeri Yizhuo.

Who?

Aeri…?

Your heart skipped a beat as recognition clicked into place.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

For a second, your heart skipped a beat. You stared at the message, the familiar feeling creeping back into your chest, one you hadn’t felt in ages. You hadn’t thought of her in so long, and yet, there she was. After all this time.

And then, the truth hit you like a punch to the gut.

Aeri was married now.

You felt the sting of it, sharp and unexpected, cutting deeper than you would’ve liked to admit. It shouldn’t have hurt this much. You hadn’t thought about her in so long as you knew she’d been building a life in Korea. You had moved on! Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

But here she was, after all these years she still had the ability to make you feel something. A feeling couldn’t quite put your finger on.

After all this time, part of you had still hoped for something. For something more than this.

About a month or two after your surprise catch-up with Aeri, you finally decided it was time to visit her. The timing was perfect—it was the end of the fiscal year, and you had some extra days off to use. You figured, why not? It would be a good vacation right? The thought of seeing her after all this time felt surreal, but exciting in a way you couldn’t quite describe. You’d booked your flight, set to leave next weekend so you and your friends decided to meet this weekend.

"So," Yunjin piped up, setting down her shot glass with a grin, "Why are you going to Korea?" You, Yunjin, Yuna, and Ryujin were all seated in Yunjin and Kazuha's shared apartment, a half-empty bottle of vodka in the middle of the table while your beer cans scattered around your side.

"She's going to see that girl, rememberrr?" Ryujin teased, her tone playful.

"Who?" you replied, pretending not to know who she was talking about.

Ryujin rolled her eyes, clearly not buying it. "Don't play dumb, idiot. You know exactly who I'm talking about—your first love, right? I thought she lives there, doesn't she?"

"Oh, I see how it is," Yuna chimed in with a smirk. "You just broke up with your girlfriend so you could go see her, huh? You dog"

"What! I’m going for vacation," you exclaimed, shaking your head. "And plus, you guys are crazy. She's married now."

"WHAT? Seriously?" Yunjin blurted out, her voice incredulous.

"Mhm," you nodded, your tone more casual now though it stung to admit it. "For like five or six years now"

You couldn’t even  bring yourself to feel bad about it. After all, from your previous conversation with Aeri, it was clear how happy she was. She’d met her wife, Ning Yizhou, during her design trip in Japan. Aeri had described Ning as an absolutely beautiful soul, someone kind and supportive. They both work together now, running Aeri’s business, Giselle.

From the way Aeri spoke about Ning, you could hear the genuine love and admiration in her voice. There was no bitterness in your heart—how could there be? You were happy for her, happy that she had found someone who brought light into her life, someone who shared in her dreams.

In fact, you were proud of her. She really did accomplish everything she had set out to do. It was bittersweet, of course, but you were genuinely happy for her. 

That’s all that mattered.

Right?

You stood just outside of Incheon International Airport, the thick scent of rain mingling with the smoke from your cigarette as you waited for your Uber. The weather had suddenly turned gray the second you had landed, casting a quiet gloom over the city, the kind that sinks into your bones(What a great sign, huh?). Raindrops softly patterned on the sidewalk while you took another slow drag, the smoke curling up into the damp air.

The second you crushed the cigarette beneath your shoe and bent over to pick it up, a car pulled up in front of you, headlights cutting through the misty rain. You quickly threw it in the appropriate spot in the trash can and opened the back door, climbing in with a sigh.

“Annyeonghaseyo~,” you greeted the driver in your best (broken) Korean, trying to remember the phrases you had studied years ago for Aeri.

The driver smiled politely in the rearview mirror, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Ah, I also speak English. Are you going to the hotel?”

You felt your cheeks flush slightly, nodding as you let out a small, relieved laugh, “Yes, please!” lowering your head in a polite bow.

The car slipped into the rainy Seoul night, the city lights blurring through the raindrops on the windows. The sound of rain hitting the roof of the car was soothing. Your eyes traced the streets as you drove deeper into the heart of the city. The roads were wet and glistening, the neon signs reflecting off the slick pavement, painting the night in hues of red, blue, and green.

The drive felt longer than it was, the beautiful city of Seoul was a lot to take in. Finally, you pulled up to the front of your hotel, the bright lights of the entrance cutting through the rain. The driver helped you with your bags, and you handed him some Won with a shy bow and a “gamsahamnida,” before heading inside.

Checking in was a blur of polite smiles and hurried conversations with the hotel staff. Before you knew it, you were standing in your empty room, the door clicking shut behind you with a finality that made the space feel even bigger.

The rain had picked up, drumming harder against the window. You crossed the room slowly, setting your bag down by the bed before making your way to the large floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the city. The lights of Seoul stretched out before you, and they were incredibly bright. 

A reflection of your younger self flickered in the glass, dim and blurred by the raindrops. It was as if your inner child was staring right back at you—smiling brightly in those stupid colorful shorts your Mom loved to dress you in with a big toothy grin stretching across your face. 

As quickly as she appeared, she vanished. Then reflected back was an almost unrecognizable adult. It was you. The light in your eyes was still prevalent, but it just wasn’t as bright as it used to be. Years must have dimmed that spark and softened the edges of the person you once were.

You leaned your forehead against the cool glass, watching as your breath fogged up the window. The city below pulsed with life, its bright lights and movement carrying on unaware of your inner turmoil.

In that moment, surrounded by the bright lights of a city that was so beautiful and full of life.

You had never felt more alone.

Some bridges in Korean folklore represent reunion and enduring love, like the Magpie Bridge, where separated lovers meet once a year to reaffirm their bond. Others, however, represent a fleeting reconnection—brief moments that can’t last, like this one.

The next morning, you got ready and made your way to Seonyudo Park Bridge, a location Aeri had sent you earlier. The sky wasn’t rainy (luckily) and the soft hum of the city seemed distant as you stood at the edge of the bridge, anxiously watching pedestrians and tourists bustle around. Snippets of Korean and bits of broken English floated past you as you nervously fidgeted with the strap of your tote bag.

You shifted your weight, glancing around, when a voice called out, one you hadn’t heard in person in years.

“Y/n!”

Your head instinctively turned.

Suddenly, in front of you stood a child. She wore jean shorts, a Hello Kitty shirt, and had medium length black hair. Her smile was bright, lighting up her entire face, and her eyes sparkled with a familiar excitement.

It was a smile you could recognize anywhere.

For a moment, you were transported back in time. There she was—Aeri, as you remembered her as a child, standing on the other side of the bridge. You froze, staring in disbelief as the vision of her younger self ran toward you, wide-eyed and full of life. It felt so real—the way she moved, the way her smile hadn't changed.

But then you blinked, and the vision vanished and adult, present time Aeri was just walking toward you. She looked different—grown up. Her hair had grown longer, her figure more filled in, and her features had sharpened with time. But that damn smile, the way her eyes crinkled in the corners when she smiled, was exactly the same as you remembered it from 20 years ago.

Without thinking, your body moved on its own, a shy yet goofy smile creeping across your face as you walked toward her. Your strides were longer, more eager, and you met her about three-quarters of the way across the bridge. You met her where she was.

Now standing just a foot apart, neither of you spoke at first. You both stood there, taking each other in, as if afraid to break the fragile moment. Aeri was still shorter than you by a couple of inches, and she was dressed in a sleek black leather jacket with gray slacks that made her look effortlessly beautiful.

You looked down at her, your heart racing, and for a few seconds, the world around you seemed to fade away. The silence between you wasn’t awkward—it was heavy, but not uncomfortable. It was the weight of everything left unsaid, everything that had built up over the years.

Finally, Aeri sighed softly, her eyes locked on yours, and a smile tugged at her lips. “Wow~,” she whispered, looking up at you with a mix of awe and warmth.

She surprisingly embraced you in an unexpected  hug. Your hands hovered, ghosting across her sides.

“I missed you” She muffled out on your shoulder

You didn’t respond.

You both pulled back from the hug, standing there, just staring at each other. There was something almost surreal about it—the way you both remembered each other so clearly, yet in this moment, you felt like strangers, familiar but somehow unrecognizable.

“You look amazing,” you croaked out, your voice betraying the flood of emotions. “You’ve changed but... you haven’t? If that makes sense.” A nervous laugh escaped your lips.

Aeri lowered her head, letting out a soft, breathy chuckle. “I could say the same to you... When did you get so tall?”

You shyly smirked “I think you’ve just always been short.”

“Ah~ so you haven’t changed at all. Still so~ annoying,” she teased, her laugh infectious.

The laughter faded, and a comfortable silence settled between you both as you took each other in again, the weight of time pressing gently on the moment.

“So...” Aeri smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “You wanna go? I’ve got a few places planned for us.”

“Yeah, of course. Let’s go,” you replied, and without another word, you followed Aeri much like a dog

The Han River has long been a symbol of flow, change, and life in Korea. Flowing water symbolizes the constant change in ones life.. they’re moving in different directions, but still connected in some way.

The walk wasn’t far, but neither of you spoke at first. Aeri led the way and you followed, both of you too shy to break the silence. Finally, she guided you to a quiet spot near the bank of the Han River, the water glistening under the dim light of the overcast sky.

“How’s here?” Aeri finally spoke, settling down near the water’s edge.

“Mmm,” you murmured, nodding as you sat beside her. The lush grass below you.

You both sat quietly, watching the water, the silence growing heavier with unsaid words.

“Was the last time we talked really eight years ago?” Aeri sighed, breaking the silence again.

“I think so? We’re 30 now... So, yeah, I guess it was,” you said, turning your head slightly toward her. “Feels weird huh?” You gave her a little half smile.

“Wow...” she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of those lost years.

After a brief pause, she added, “You know.. before I got married, I went to New York with my wife.”

“I know.”

“I sent you a message on Facebook, I didn’t know if you had changed your number” she continued, smiling softly but with a hint of sadness in her eyes. “But you didn’t respond”

There was another pause. It felt like she had more to say, so you stayed quiet, waiting.

“I wanted to see you,” she admitted quietly. “I was disappointed.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, your gaze fixed on the water, avoiding her eyes. There wasn’t much else you could say, something was hanging in the air between you.

Aeri shifted, her tone changing slightly. “Well, I also wanted to meet your girlfriend. How are you guys doing?”

“We’re not together right now,” you admitted.

“Oh, I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to— wait, did you break up?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.

“Oh well no, I don't know, we’re just... in a weird spot right now. She wants to get married but...”

“But you don’t?” Aeri asked, cutting through your hesitation.

“Yeah it's just, I don’t know, it’s just... complicated,” you sighed, trying not to reveal too much, keeping your emotions in check.

“What’s complicated?” she pressed, her voice direct, almost matter-of-fact.

You chuckled lightly at her tone. “I’m still paying off my student loans. I just don’t want my wife to carry that burden, you know? Boston is expensive enough as it is...” It wasn’t entirely a lie. But deep down, you knew there was more to your hesitation than just the financial part.

“I just feel like she deserves someone better than me. We’ve been together but.. not really together for so long... She deserves someone who can give her what she wants. Someone... less ordinary and..”

“Ordinary?” Aeri interrupted softly, her voice filled with disbelief. “You’re far from ordinary, Y/n. You know you’re...” she trailed off, as if catching herself before saying too much.

You gave her a small smile, ignoring her hesitation. It was clear neither of you wanted to dig into old feelings, not yet, maybe even never. There was too much that both of you were avoiding.

“So, how’s work?” you asked, gently steering the conversation away from the tension that had built up. The question felt like a safe place to land, something casual and mundane.

Aeri smiled, seeming to relax a little. “Busy, as always. Giselle’s doing well, though. It’s everything I dreamed of... and more stressful than I imagined.”

“That sounds about right,” you chuckled, the heaviness between you starting to ease. “But, I knew you could do it. I’m really proud of you, Aeri.”

Slowly, the awkwardness began to dissipate. You found yourselves laughing about silly memories from when you were younger, filling in the gaps from the eight years you had missed.

Aeri told you about the ups and downs of her business, her wife, her travels, and the unexpected ways life had changed her. You shared stories of grad school, your friends, your job, and the quiet moments of your own life that had shaped you. It was easy to get lost in the rhythm of it, the back and forth, as though no time had passed at all.

Before you knew it, the sun had started to dip, casting soft shades of pink and orange across the sky. .

“Remember that one time when you fe–”

Your stomach grumbled loudly, cutting through Aeri’s story

“Oh my god, are you hungry?” Aeri’s eyes widened with concern. 

Oh, no I’m fine, really!” You tried to assuage but of course she did not relent

“No it’s okay, I could eat too. Let’s go get some food, there’s a great to-go spot nearby, and then I’ve got one more place I want to show you.”

She was already on her feet, tugging at your sleeve before you could even think to protest. Not that you would, of course.

You chuckled softly, offering a simple, “Alright,” as a smile crept onto your face. It just felt so natural. Aeri was still the same, always charging ahead, her excitement infectious, leading you from behind as she had so many times before. 

Some things really never change.

Soon, you both arrived at a cozy 24-hour convenience store, the kind that makes it fresh right there. It was small and tucked away, but the smell of freshly made meals greeted you the moment you stepped inside. You ordered an onigiri, feeling like that’s all your stomach could handle after such a day like this. 

You unwrapped it and took a bite, savoring the simple comfort of the food, but before you could settle in, Aeri was pulling you along again, her food in hand, excitement bubbling in her voice.

“Let’s go, the bus comes in three minutes!” she said, glancing at her phone with a grin.

You both made it onto the bus(after scarfing down your rice ball) barely just in time. With no seats available, you were left standing together, holding the same pole.

Strangers pressed in around you, the sounds of conversation and the hum of the city filling the space. But in that moment, it felt like it was only the two of you in the world.

Your fingers brushed against each other, but neither of you moved. The silence stretched between you, not awkward, just heavy with all the years missed. 

You met Aeri’s gaze, and for a brief second, it felt like time slowed. 

The bus glided (not) smoothly through the city streets, and yet the tension between you was almost tangible. Your mind raced with everything you wanted to say, but none of the words seemed right.

"Ae—" you started to say, but before the words could form, Aeri cut you off softly.

“Oh, we’re here,” she said, her voice gently pulling you both back into the present moment.

The bus came to a stop, and you followed her out, stepping into the cool evening air. The two of you walked side by side, the quiet comfort between you settling in again as you made your way toward Namsan Tower, known for its Love Lock Bridge.

“Do you want a picture?” Aeri asked, breaking the silence. “It is your vacation, right? I feel like you haven’t taken many pictures while you’ve been here. Probably my fault,” she laughed lightly, her tone warm.

“Oh yeah, sure!” you said, handing her your phone.

You posed in front of a scenic spot along the path, flashing your signature bright smile.

“Ah~ so cute,” she teased, snapping a few photos before handing your phone back to you.

“Thanks,” you said, quickly glancing at the picture before slipping the phone into your pocket.

The two of you continued walking, your shoulders brushing against each other now and then as the foot traffic toward the bridge picked up. Just before you reached the bridge, Aeri stopped in her tracks, turning to you with a serious look.

“Y/n,” she said, her voice soft but steady.

“Hmm?” you looked at her curiously.

“Why did you... search for me?” she asked quietly, her gaze lingering on you.

“Eight years ago?” you finished for her.

“Mhm,” she nodded.

“Do you really want to know?” you asked, meeting her eyes. She gave a small nod in response, waiting.

You took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I wanted to see you again... I don’t know. You left so suddenly, and I guess I was a little pissed off, honestly.”

“I’m sorry,” Aeri said softly.

You let out a small huff of laughter. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I guess... you’re right. I don’t have anything to be sorry for,” she admitted, smiling faintly.

“You were just in my entire life, and then you left... and then, bam, I found you again,” you said, the words coming out more candidly than you expected.

“Why would you do that?” she asked, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

“I don’t know, honestly... You kept entering my mind when I was in college. I thought about you... a lot,” you admitted.

Aeri nodded, her expression softening. “I see.”

“We were babies back then, huh?” you chuckled, the tension easing. “And even eight years ago... we were still figuring things out.”

“Yeah,” Aeri smiled, a bittersweet glint in her eyes. “I can’t believe we’re not ‘babies’ anymore.”

You both finally arrived at the Love Lock Bridge, the sky now a deep shade of blue, illuminated by the city lights below. The bridge was alive with the soft hum of conversations you couldn’t quite understand  and the distant sounds of traffic, but you felt a quiet stillness between you and Aeri walked around.

“Ning  and I came here for our anniversary,” Aeri said, her voice almost wistful as she glanced around. “It was hard to find at first. We spent months looking for the perfect spot to place our lock.”

She started scanning the rows upon rows of locks, her fingers brushing over the cold metal as she looked for hers. But while she was focused on finding it, you couldn’t stop staring at her—the way her hair fell over her face as she leaned in, the subtle concentration etched on her features, the soft smile that tugged at her lips every now and then as she searched.

You knew you should probably  be at least trying to help her, but at this moment, it felt like she was a world away, even as she stood right next to you. She was talking about their anniversary, their love, and you couldn’t shake away the sinking feeling.

Then suddenly, She spotted it. A small, worn lock with their names etched in faded letters. Ning and Aeri. She pointed at it.

“There,” she said softly.

Your eyes followed your finger, and she smiled when she saw it.

“Wow... I didn’t think we’d be able to find it.”

You forced a smile, but the heaviness in your chest lingered. After a few moments of small talk about the lock, the conversation lulled, and Aeri checked the time. The soft glow of the city lights and the quiet hum of the evening reminded you both that this reunion, like everything, had to come to an end.

“I should probably head home,” Aeri said quietly, her voice carrying a hint of reluctance. She didn’t want to break the moment, but it was inevitable.

You nodded, your own smile fading. “Yeah, I should  get back too.”

Home. She was going home to someone—to a life that didn’t include you. And as much as you tried to push the thought aside, it stung.

She walked with you toward the bus stop, in silence. The conversation from earlier echoed in your mind—how you had found her again, only to realize that the distance between your lives was now undeniable.

When the bus pulled up, Aeri watched as you stepped inside. She gave you one last, soft smile, the kind that carried more meaning than any words could, just before the doors closed between you.

You said your quiet goodbye, instead of walking her home like you used to, you headed back to your own place. Alone.

The next day arrived with a clearer sky, though the weight of the previous night still lingered faintly in your chest. You weren’t sure how to feel, but Aeri’s early morning text had a way of pulling you out of your thoughts: “Let’s go to  Seoul Tower today! I feel like everyone who visits needs to see it.”

Of course you agreed, a few hours later when you had checked out of your hotel, you found yourself walking toward one of Seoul’s most famous places, N Seoul Tower, with Aeri by your side. The streets were alive with locals and tourists, bustling around market stalls and snapping photos.

There was a vibrant energy of the city surrounding you, but your focus was on Aeri, who was as animated as ever, pointing out landmarks and sharing random facts about the places you passed. It was cute.

“This place is sooo a must for anyone visiting Seoul,” Aeri said with a grin as you passed a shop offering hanbok rentals. “Wanna try one on?” She teased “Or are you more in the mood for food?”

You bantered back. “Let’s try food first. I don’t think I’m ready for a hanbok yet,” you playfully rolled your eyes

You stopped at a food stall, grabbing some hotteok, tteokbokki, and grilled meat skewers.

“You have to try this. It’s my favorite,” she said, handing you a cup of hotteok, her face lighting up as you took a bite of the warm treat “See?! I knew you’d like it.”

The day moved quickly as you wandered through the crowded streets, snapping photos, enjoying the ‘touristy’ vibe. It felt easier, lighter, as if you could both escape into the city, even if just for a while.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden hue over the city, Aeri led you to the top of N Seoul Tower. From the observation deck, you could see all of Seoul stretched out before you. The view was breathtaking, the city bathed in the soft light of the sun.

“This city... it’s strange how much it’s become home,” Aeri said quietly, her voice softer now. She leaned against the railing, staring out at the skyline. “I never thought I’d feel that way when I first moved here.”

You stood beside her. “It’s beautiful,” you said, your own voice hushed, as if speaking too loudly might break the delicate moment. You stared at her as she gazed out over the city, your mind was elsewhere.

For a while, you both stood in silence, taking in the view. In that moment, it didn’t matter where you had come from or where you were going. 

For now, this was enough.

After spending the day embodying a tourist and such, the sun had long set, and the once-bustling streets now felt quieter as you followed Aeri back to her apartment.

You were nervous of course,

“She knows I’m coming. right?” you asked, pausing mid-step.

“Of course,” Aeri replied, leading you up the steps to her apartment—the place she now called home.

As you entered, Aeri's wife, Ning, was already by the door. You weren’t sure what you had expected, but seeing her in the flesh felt surreal, like a final confirmation of the life Aeri had built without you. It felt like the gap between your past with Aeri and her present had suddenly become tangible.

After a brief moment of silence, you gave Ning a polite bow, offering your best attempt at broken Korean. “Annyeonghaseyo,” you said, smiling awkwardly.

Ning returned the gesture with a polite bow of her own. “Hello,” she responded in careful English.

For a second, both of you stood there, staring at each other incredulously, trying to find the right words, the weight of the moment hanging between you.

You nodded, your heart racing slightly. “It’s nice to meet you,” you added, this time in your most broken Korean.

Ning smiled kindly, understanding the effort you were making. “It’s nice to meet you too,” she said

Ning chuckled softly, the slight language barrier immediately apparent but not uncomfortable. “Aeri told me… a lot about you.” she responded in English

“Likewise”

Aeri came to your side, sensing the mix of emotions swirling in the air. “Ning, should we grab something to eat? She’s leaving later tonight, so I think we should eat,” Aeri said in Korean, but you didn’t quite catch the words.

Ning nodded and turned to you, switching back to English. “What do you like to eat?”

You pondered for a moment, thinking of something simple but satisfying. “Hmm… samgyupsal?”

Ning’s face immediately lit up at the mention of her favorite food. “Let’s go get samgyupsal!” she said, her excitement evident.

You three ended up at a cozy late-night bar and restaurant, the soft hum of conversation and clinking of glasses filling the space. Dinner had gone smoothly, the samgyupsal hitting the spot, and now you were all nursing drinks, passing time until your Uber was set to arrive.

“So, have you traveled out of the United States before?” Ning asked in Korean, her expression curious. Of course, you didn’t understand, but Aeri leaned in, her voice low as she translated.

“She’s asking if you’ve been out of the country before,” Aeri said with a small smile, eyes flicking between you and her wife.

You shook your head with a soft laugh. “I’ve been to Japan and Spain before, but I think Korea has been my favorite so far.”

Aeri translated the words, and Ning nodded with a smile.

“She says Seoul is a good place to start when visiting Korea, but if you come back, you should visit Jeju Island. It’s beautiful there,” Aeri translated again, while Ning added in her own bit in Korean, her face lighting up.

“I’ve heard great things about Jeju,” you said, returning the smile. “Maybe next time.”

The small talk flowed easily enough, but as the night wore on, Aeri slowly stopped translating, and Ning sat quietly, sipping her drink. It created an odd dynamic—one where it felt like Aeri was caught between two worlds, and Ning, though polite, was drifting further into her own thoughts.

You couldn’t help it. With the drinks loosening your tongue and emotions swirling inside you, the words began to spill out. Leaning in slightly, you lowered your voice, careful to keep your tone steady. “Aeri… thanks for introducing me to your wife.”

Aeri blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. “Mm,” she mumbled, her gaze flickering between you and her drink, unsure of where you were headed.

“I can tell she really loves you,” you added softly, the sincerity in your voice clear. "I didn't realize liking your wife would hurt this much."

Aeri’s eyes softened, her brow furrowing slightly. “Really?” she asked, her voice almost hesitant, as if she needed confirmation.

“Of course,” you replied, your words gentle, but heavy with the weight of what you weren’t saying.

A moment of silence passed, the sounds of the bar fading into the background as the two of you sat there, the space between you filled with things that had been left unsaid for too long.

You took a sip from your glass, gathering the courage to speak again. “… When we stopped talking back then… I really missed you. Did you miss me?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and raw, as if you’d been holding it in for years.

Aeri’s gaze dropped for a moment, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. When she finally looked up at you, her voice was softer, almost vulnerable. “Of course I did, Y/n.”

A dry laugh escaped your lips. “But you met your wife then.” There was an edge to your voice, a bitterness that surprised even you.

Aeri responded instantly, almost defensively. “And you had a girlfriend.”

You scoffed softly. “Right,” you murmured, shaking your head with a small smile. “Sorry.”

Aeri fidgeted with the rim of her glass. “It’s okay.”

After a few quiet moments, you exhaled, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. The words slipped out before you had the chance to stop them. “Seeing you again… it’s made me have some strange thoughts.”

Aeri lifted her eyes to yours, her gaze gentle but curious. “What kind of thoughts?” she asked softly.

You hesitated, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass as you searched for the right words. “I keep thinking… what if I had come here eight years ago? What if you never left California? If we’d just grown up together, stayed in each other’s lives…” 

You paused, the questions swirling in your mind before you continued, your voice growing softer. “Would I have still searched for you? Would we have dated? Broken up? Gotten married and had kids? Just.. you know, stuff like that.”

You glanced at Aeri, her expression unreadable as she absorbed everything you said.

“And what I’ve realized,” you continued, almost to yourself, “is that California… it was always too small for your ambition. You outgrew it before either of us realized. I’m happy you moved here, Aeri, I really am.

And the truth is, I liked you because you’re you. And who you are…” You trailed off for a moment, letting the words sink in before you finished quietly. “Who you are is someone who leaves.”

Aeri’s lips parted slightly, her breath catching. She looked away for a second, as if trying to gather her thoughts, before her voice came out in a whisper. “The Aeri Uchinaga you remember… she doesn’t exist anymore.”

Her words cracked slightly, as if admitting it to herself for the first time.

You felt a soft chuckle escape you, one tinged with understanding. “I know,” you replied. “I know.”

She nodded, but quickly added, “But… that doesn’t mean she never existed.” Her eyes met yours again, softer now. “I left that version of me behind 20 years ago. I left her with you.”

Her words, the honesty in them, tugged at something deep within you. “I know,” you repeated, meeting her gaze, a strange sense of peace settling over you. “I know we were only twelve… but I really did love her.”

Aeri’s lips curved into a small, sad smile, the kind that holds years of unspoken truths. “I know,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

You both let out a quiet laugh, the sound soft but comforting, a brief return to the simplicity of who you used to be.

“I think we must’ve been something together in our past lives,” she said after a while, her voice distant, thoughtful. “Otherwise, why would we be here together right now?”

You thought about her words, turning them over in your mind. “I agree,” you finally said. “But in this life… we obviously just aren’t those people to each other, are we? We’re finally in the same city for the first time in 20 years, and here we are, sitting together... with your wife.”

Your expression softened, as you quietly acknowledged the truth you both knew. “To Ning, you’re someone who stays,” you whispered.

A few moments of silence passed between you and Aeri.

“Who do you think we were to each other in our past lives?” Aeri asked suddenly, her voice soft, almost wistful.

You tilted your head, considering the question. “Hmm… I don’t know,” you said, your tone thoughtful. “Maybe we were forced into a political marriage to stop a war…Or maybe we were just two strangers on a bus who happened to sit next to each other. Or even.. maybe I was just a branch you decided to sit on as a bird on a cold morning.”

You and Aeri chuckled at that, though you could sense a sadness behind it.

You both sat in the quiet for a few more moments, the weight of those imagined lives lingering in the air, until Aeri excused herself to use the restroom, leaving you alone with Ning.

You turned toward her, feeling guilty for the past hour. “I’m sorry we spoke alone,” you said gently, your voice low. “It won’t happen again.”

Ning gave you a small, gentle smile, though there was something sad in her eyes. “Don’t worry,” she replied, her English hesitant but kind. “You two haven’t seen each other in a while. I’m glad I got to meet you Y/n.”

You nodded, her response easing some of the tension in your chest. “I’m glad too,” you said softly, offering her a smile in return

When Aeri returned, you paid the bill and the three of you made your way back to the apartment to grab your luggage. The atmosphere had shifted slightly—quiet, but not uncomfortable, just the natural stillness that follows the end of a long day.

“Hey, I’m gonna walk her to her Uber,” Aeri said to Ning, offering her a small, reassuring smile before turning toward you and the door.

You paused for a moment, glancing at Ning. Bowing slightly, you tried your best to piece together the Korean you’d practiced. “Nice to meet you. Come visit me in California.”

Ning’s eyes softened, and despite the awkwardness of the language barrier, her warmth was undeniable. She returned the bow, her own English just as halting but genuine. “Definitely,” she replied, her smile sincere. You offered her a small smile in return before following Aeri out the door.

As you and Aeri stepped out of the apartment, the cool night air hit you both. You walked side by side down the quiet street, neither of you saying much, both lost in your own thoughts.

The streets were dimly lit, the distant hum of the city lingering in the background. Every now and then, your shoulders brushed, but neither of you acknowledged it. 

As you neared the end of the street, where your Uber was set to pick you up, you both stopped, standing under a flickering streetlight. The quiet air felt thick, the weight of the goodbye neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

Aeri shifted slightly, glancing at you before looking away, her hands fidgeting in her jacket pockets. “Will it be here soon?” she asked, her voice soft, trying to smooth over the tension between you.

You glanced at your phone, the screen glowing back at you. “Two minutes,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Silence.

Some more silence fell between you two as the night deepened, the distant sounds of the city humming softly around you. Neither of you made any effort to fill the quiet, as if both afraid that words would shatter whatever remained between you.

Finally, the low rumble of a car pulling up signaled that your time was almost up. You glanced at the Uber, then down at your bags. With a sigh, you began to pack them into the trunk, your movements slow, almost hesitant, as if trying to delay the inevitable.

Just as you were about to open the car door, something inside you stirred. You couldn’t let this moment end without saying it.

“Aeri,” you called out, your voice breaking the silence as you turned toward her, your hand resting on the handle of the door.

She looked up, her eyes lighting up just a little as she responded, “Mm?”

For a moment, you hesitated, unsure if you should say the words that had been circling in your mind. But the thought of leaving without voicing them felt unbearable. So you smiled, that bittersweet smile tugging at your lips as you spoke.

“What if this is a past life as well, and we are already something else to each other in our next life? Who do you think we are then?” You could feel a deep sadness in your voice as the words left your lips.

Aeri blinked, the question taking her by surprise. Her eyes searched for yours, as if trying to understand the depth of your meaning. She looked almost vulnerable at that moment, her lips parting slightly before she whispered, “I-I don’t know.” Careful with her words

There was something in the way she said it—like she wanted to know, like she wished she had an answer for you but couldn’t bring herself to find one. The distance between you two felt like more than just the physical space separating you—it was something neither of you could cross.

You had realized just then. At that moment. That she hasn’t been looking at you with any sort of love or longing. She’d just been looking at you with nostalgia. A life before the weight of the world crashed down on her.

You lowered your head with a sad laugh in response to her.

“Alright,” you began, “Goodbye, Aeri Uchinaga.. See you then.” you whispered finally parting ways with the girl you'd known 20 years ago.

A feeling of loss over you, almost suffocating. You still managed a genuine smile because you were happy Aeri was happy. 

Bittersweet. 

“See you.. then, Y/n L/n” she whispered. 

With that, you gave her a small nod, your heart heavy. The air between you felt thick with everything unsaid. Aeri looked back at you, her eyes holding a mix of emotions—nostalgia, sadness, maybe a little bit of both.

You opened the door and got into the backseat of the Uber. You glanced out the window one last time, catching a glimpse of Aeri standing there under the streetlight. She looked a little blurry in the dim light, but still the same Aeri you’ve always known.

For a second, your eyes met again. Neither of you waved, neither of you spoke. You both knew this was how it had to end.

You took a deep breath and nodded to the driver, and the car pulled away.

You silently stared out the window as the scenery of Seoul flashed by while tears streamed down your face. 

You’ll never know that she was crying too. Harder than she ever had before.