#and the fallout continues LONG after that relationship is over | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hyewka · 6 months

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warnings. possibly unfaithful, switch!beomgyu, ex best friends, pull out method, drunk sex, not proofread

you’ve always felt big feelings towards beomgyu, after all he has been your best friend for as long as you can remember, its just never ever been lust, even as a teenage girl with rapidly changing hormones. you love beomgyu, but it was never romantic. and yet as much as it surprises you, in the moment, it feels so right. like this is exactly how its supposed to be. getting maniacally mounted by choi beomgyu in a bathroom with your sense overwhelmed with the soju and beer breath. yeah, that sounds about right.

you just hadn’t expected it to turn so sappy so quick, despite the alcohol in your systems.

“i missed you…i missed you, i missed you”

at some point, you would’ve guessed those repeated declarations would’ve faded into white noise had it been any other person—any other person but him. someone who’d you considered the most important being of your entire life, someone who you haven’t seen or heard from in two entire years when your entire relationship had consisted of seeing each other all the time, someone that you’ve also, terribly missed.

when you share the same sentiment, when you also feel the need to repeat it over and over again, the heartache you’ve felt and the utter devastating emptiness that you’ve lived with for so long now being satiated—the repetition doesn’t let the words turn into sounds of nothingness as it naturally would’ve. rather, it continues to ram against your skull every time he gasps and whines them. like it gains a deeper, more intimate meaning the more he whispers them against your neck, trailing his wet kisses along your jawline.

“what happened with him?”

it’s like he got worked up at his own question, gripping the plush of your ass so hard his nails painfully digs into your flesh, having you hiss. you don’t blame what you register as an involuntary response—your ex boyfriend was the sole reason for your fallout with beomgyu, it’s a sore subject to poke.

“we broke it off six—s-six months after.” after you and beomgyu fell out you would’ve said, but how can you when the prick’s practically ramming his cock in you.

“oh,” he groans speeding up his sloppy pace, finding more rhythm—all while wearing a dopey smile, the frown on his face returning to ecstasy. “why?”

“just didn’t work out.” you reply curtly, trying to move on from the topic of your ex. he lets you, humming contentedly.

there was a part deep inside him that urged him to be smug and petty with an i told you so, or get mad that you dumped him for a relationship so futile to your life, but he can’t find himself to do so as he gets lost further in the way your face contorts, reacting to each jerk of his hips. you’re perfect, he thinks to himself over and over again. you’re perfect.

he thinks he could cum right then and there.

but somethings on the tip of your tongue— in fact, the moment you had registered him inside your head when you went inside that damned karaoke room, you noticed the ring. you quickly dispelled your first thought—it doesn’t look like a ring for marriage, it looked far too casual for that.

but you had still eyed it practically the entire night curious if it held any meaning and you had so badly wanted to pry. then you finally concluded that beomgyu has always been into jewellery, rings no exception. an hour ago, you didn’t know why you were so curious of his relationship status. but now? now you’re being fucked. you have a reason, so you try to bite the bullet to satiate your curiosity. “what about you?” you choke out. however, your question immedietely evaporates from your head when he smashes his lips against yours again heaving.

you don’t question it, you melt into it, pulling him in closer to the point there’s absolutely no space between the two of you.

“missed you” he whines. it has you uncontrollably tumble out giggles between your smushed lips before he steals your breath away yet again. you feel like you’re on drugs, you’re so high off of the adrenaline you feel. never in a million years would you have expected the original deep set uncomfortable tension between the two of you three hours ago to turn into this. when you had been invited out to hang out with your old college friends to come in and be met with familiar faces—you just didn’t expect your joy to so quickly be replaced with suffocating dread when the most familiar looks you up and down.

you weren’t warned of his presence. and now you were crowded by it.

“i couldn’t,” you gasp, your hooded eyes flying open when he revisits a hickey, grazing his teeth. “i can’t, i can’t live without you. that’s what i’ve realized, i can’t do it.”

you nod over and over again along to his words, frankly out of it, rolling your hips pathetically in rhythm with his. “wh-what about you?” he asks, his vulnerablity on full on display. long gone was the confident, vulgarity that oozed out of him.

it turns you on so much, it’s wrong but it does—his teary eyes, imploring you to put him at ease as he drives his cock deep inside your cunt. it feels right, it feels natural to try it out with him. the moment your finger flick his nipples, beomgyu gives you an immediate, satisfactory reaction—a combination of a gasp and a shriek before his head just pathetically falls to bury his head into the junction of your shoulders.

“you’re sensitive,” you note, letting your fingers lightly lay against his chest. the faltering of his pace is extremely noticeable as he had been increasingly building up his pace. it gives you a rush of dopamine, enough of it to have you more confident with what you want.

“whyyy..why’d you touch..” his whines muffle into your skin.

you peel his head off your shoulder by a fist of his hair and for what feels to be the hundredth time this night, he knocks the breath out of you—he’s gorgeous. when you started making out earlier you had passively asked him to keep his glasses on, you didn’t expect him to make such an effort to keep them because it’s practically falling off the bridge of his nose, crooked and foggy. he looks like a perfect mess.

your ex boyfriend hated it—when you had introduced domming during sex it had immediately killed the mood even though he promised you afterwards that it totally wasn’t because of your risque play with his nipples. after a while, you believed him—you wanted to believe him so you tried to ease into it again, showing him some porn, he’d surely like it as much as you did. you were sorely mistaken. he didnt, he practically ridiculed you, basically implying you were a total freak. it’s one of the things that served as a catalyst for your eventual breakup.

but beomgyu, god, beomgyu.

he transcends even your wildest imagination—hes everything you’d wish to hear and more. when you experimentally let your finger twist his hard buds again as he attempts to pick up his rhythm he gurgles on his spit, moaning loud enough for you to completely lose it. he slows down again, almost completely stilling, looking like he’s about to sob with his face a shade of red and pink, as if hes asking you for mercy.

“what?” you slur, cocking your head. “who allowed you to stop? i was close.”

he shakes his head, bottom lip slightly wobbling, “i c-can’t. if you keep touching my-”

your groan cuts off his rant. “hurry up, my legs are starting to cramp up gyu.”

he flinches at your harshness, falling into a pout. it’s a habit that as long as you remember, had driven you up the wall. but right now, you can’t help but find the action adorable, in complete contrast to the dirty situation you’re in. “but what if i just…like, cum?”

you sigh, propping yourself up again, “when you feel it coming, pull out.” you say simply, which doesn’t seem to ease his mind but he doesn’t resist shaking his hips again. it isn’t long before he’s losing himself in you, slap of skin against skin no longer your concern, totally ignoring the semi public setting. the moment he feels like he has has the upper hand you do it again, playing with his nipples until you’re sure they’re pink and plump, sore.

he not once questions anything, which makes you feel so immensely comfortable. “he would’ve hated this,” you comment absentmindedly, more to yourself than beomgyu. you hadn’t even thought he picked up on it when suddenly he becomes a lot more vocal, moaning obnoxiously loud you would’ve definitely slapped him silly and hopped off his cock…had you not been completely trashed. your brain is turned off, only mustering up a wobbly smile as you drown in his outward display of pleasure. it makes you feel so powerful. he both exaggerates and at the same time actually fucking loses his sanity.

he says those words again, panting, eyes completely glazed over and mouth almost permanently hung open, his hand reaching down to shakily play with your clit, making you arch into his touch, absolutely out of breath. “can’t live without you,”

at that final declaration, you clench around his dick to which he immediately reacts, erratically fucking into you, having your tits jiggle lewdly. he thinks hes hypnotized, he thinks he would’ve probably just bust a nut inside you anyway, but he snaps out of it, getting a sense of clarity.

beomgyu's cock throbs one last time inside you, before he pulls out, giving his cock only one small pump before spurting his load, some of it landing on your stomach and legs, some dripping to the floor. he lets out a soft moan, his breath hot against your neck. after what you believe to be an eternity, your sweaty selves interwined with each other, wallowing in silence as you finally get your breathing controlled, beomgyu pulls away to look at you.

it’s like you truly are telepathically connected, something you’ve joked about for years due to the instance you’ve completed each other’s thoughts. but you’ve come to realize it might be closer to the truth than anything you’ve ever known to be true. your feelings were intertwined, scarily so.

so its to not to your surprise when he doesn’t ask for a round two, he knows. like he always does.

you just try to ignore the constant ringing of his phone.

#beomgyu smut #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt x reader

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blackmosscupcakes · 4 months

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One of the aspects of the fallout from this last episode I'm most interested in seeing is Imogen's reaction, and that's for a very out of character reason.

One of Laura's self-admitted player quirks is avoidance of inter-party conflict. She's good at smoothing things over and tends to play characters on a spectrum from forgiving to avoidant. You can see this going back to campaign one, most notably after Scanlan returned and, while most characters were furious and slow to forgive him, Vex was instantly on his side, delighted to see him, and ready to forget everything. Jester, of course, was very committed to the power of friendship in general. Imogen tends more towards burying or distracting from feelings and events that might lead to conflict.

In 4 Sided Dive episode 20, they have the following conversation from about 1 hour 3 minutes in:

Marisha: Of course diving into the relationship is always fun, but then relationship tension is also fun.

Laura: Yeah I feel like you guys really like relationship conflict too like you guys talk about that a lot. I'm terrified of conflict--that translates to the game as well. I don't like conflict.

Sam: You don't like conflict? Even in the game?

Laura: No! I don't like fighting. Like if we're having a fight I will be like "it's okay FCG, I'm not mad at you." If you do something wrong I'll be like "that's okay."

However, her character is now in a relationship with Marisha's character, and as seen in the quote above, Marisha LOVES conflict. She eats it up! From Keyleth and Percy in C1 to Beau and Caleb in C2, she's been great at diving into tensions that further character development and make for great storytelling.

So we've reached a point now where Marisha keeps making choices with Laudna that are basically dropping an invitation to a WHOLE bunch of tension and conflict on Laura's doorstep, and up until this point, aside from a little dust up over the gnarlrock incident (a big one for Laura, but small compared to, say, Beau and Caleb's arguments!), Laura as Imogen has been broadly side-stepping these in order to do exactly what she said in the 4sd quote--tell Laudna that it's all okay.

But we've reached a point now where that's not going to cut it in avoiding tension any more! If Laudna continues down this path, lines are going to be drawn within the party, and Imogen is likely to have to pick between conflict with Laudna OR conflict with other members of the party. It's very likely there will come a point where anger and arguments can't be entirely avoided for Imogen no matter what choice she makes. And that's going to be REALLY fascinating to watch.

Sometimes these players nudge one another out of their comfort zones. Laura did it to Travis with romance. Several of them did it to Ashley with the titan shard. I think we can trust them not to push their friends to a point where they REALLY don't want to go (and I'm sure that sort of thing is negotiated between them off camera), so bearing that in mind a little tiptoe out of the comfort zone can be really interesting--for example, Travis did really well with romance in the end. It might well be a bit uncomfortable for Laura at first! But as long as she's okay trying it, I think it could lead to REALLY excellent storytelling and fantastic performance. I'm excited to see where it goes .

#critical role #cr spoilers #marisha ray #laura bailey #imogen temult #laudna

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writingjourney · 3 months

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𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

!!! this fic contains spoilers for RHRN, do not read on if you wish to remain spoiler-free!!!

It is an involuntary trust exercise. To give up what he built for half a decade, the legacy he took over, being forced to let it rest in the hands of someone else. Or: Copia is taking up his new position. It’s not an easy feat.

content: 1.8k words, gn!reader, angst, grief, hurt/comfort, some fluff and kisses, post!rhrn so spoilers, established relationship

Masterlist – Ao3 link

1 – White dust sheets cover the furniture like ghosts of a life left behind. The path forward is hidden underneath layers of insecurity and grief but as he packs up years of work in pre-used cardboard boxes it almost feels as though he cannot see the path at all.

His new office is just down the hall. It is a fast job. Two trips and his desk has become another ghost. One more trip and he has emptied out all personal belongings from the dusty shelves. The rest stays, not useful to him anymore in his new function.

It is an involuntary trust exercise. To give up what he built for half a decade, the legacy he took over, being forced to let it rest in the hands of someone else. Unlike his brothers he had no way to prepare who follows his footsteps and perhaps that is where the ache in his belly comes from – the uncertainty.

He cannot quite bring himself to unpack the boxes in his new office yet. But it is not his office anyway, Copia thinks. No, it is his mother’s office and he feels like an intruder placing his things on her desk. Her smell clings to the old fabrics, clings to him, a strong perfume that Copia has not been able to get out of his nose ever since he covered her body with yet another white sheet.

Yet another ghost.

It has not been long, he tells himself, a weak comfort. As he stands here with an old card she wrote him – Welcome Home, C! – he can hear the clicking of his mother’s shoes on the tiled floors like a faint echo that haunts the hallways of the Ministry. Everyone is busy preparing for this transitional period, mourning their Mother Superior, but now it is Copia who has to guide them, navigate them through this darkness.

He realises that he himself has footsteps to follow and that he is just as unprepared. A new era, for all of them.

“Love?”

He turns and his world lights up for a brief moment. You occupy the doorframe in a black mourning habit, the one all Siblings chose to wear in honour of his mother. Of course he finds that it suits you better than anyone else. But perhaps that is because he has felt the sturdy fabric against his wet cheeks so many times now that it means comfort, home.

“Do you still need help with the boxes?” you ask.

All he can do is shake his head. You approach and he wants to close the card, hide it away, not even sure why. You have seen the fallout, you have held him through the worst of it. Perhaps he is ashamed, in a way, that he cannot move on as fast as his new role demands of him.

“Was this from her?” you ask, nestling up to his side.

“Mhm.”

His hand is trembling lightly as you lay yours to rest on top of his. The swipe of your thumb against his bare wrist sends goosebumps down his spine and when you wrap the other arm around his waist his eyes are watering.

“Perhaps you can frame it, together with some photos,” you suggest.

He nods, leaning into your embrace as a solid rock forms in his throat. You hold him and he lets the silent tears run down his cheeks, gathering at the dip of his chin. Your thumb continues to draw slow crescents over his pulse. He can’t speak. He does not have to.

✦ ✧ ✦

2 – He is glued to the mirror.

You try not to fuss, he is nervous as is. It is first official day, after all.

“I didn’t know you had a new uniform,” you say with a lint roller in hand, joining him in the bedroom. The jacket is brand new, all black but unusual in its ornamentation, satin lapels that run from his neck towards his armpits. A clerical collar underneath sparkles against his Adam’s apple.

“I eh… splurged,” he says, cheeks dusted a bashful red.

He says it like he is wasteful, does it whenever he treats himself to something, but you also know he is wearing the same black winklepickers he wore as a Cardinal ten years ago, never replaces any pieces of clothing until he finds holes in the fabric, that he only bought new jackets when he could use them on stage to look his best for the audience. The suit is no different, it is as much a boost to his confidence as it is a display of his new status. A performance.

“It is a rather nice suit,” you note, running the lint roller down his back.

“Mhm.” He pauses, looks down at himself and tugs at the sleeves. “It is… unfamiliar.”

“You wear it well, Copia.”

He smiles and his confidence resurfaces. You find that he looks handsome in a completely new way. You have seen so many facets of him that you can tell he is beginning to mold himself into this role, even if he might not see it himself yet. In the mirror, a stranger is looking back at him through black-rimmed eyes but in time he will see himself again, a grown version.

“It is not all,” he says. “I… found something. In the desk drawer.”

He points to a velvety black box on the dresser. Inside, you find a beautiful ornament, two ruby brooches holding a bejewelled black grucifix, another ruby at the bottom. It is one of the most beautiful, elaborate pieces you have ever seen.

“A gift, I think.”

He looks uncertain when you glance up. But you have no doubt that it was meant for him, meant for today. You carefully take it out of the box, delicate as it looks it feels sturdy and well-crafted. One brooch to each lapel and the grucifix dangles over his heart. Light from the window catches in the gemstones, a prism splitting the ray into sparkles that reflect in the mirror, a spectacle of multicoloured beams flickering across the walls.

Copia watches the dancing lights, mesmerised, until the sun hides behind a cloud and the room is gloomy yet again. When you focus back on him a tear pearls from his left eye, running down his cheek and leaving a black streak in its wake. The piece is more than jewels – it is a memory, a promise, a token of trust.

“It is beautiful,” you say. “As are you, Copia. So beautiful.”

His smile is tinged with sadness but there is hope, now, too. You smooth out his jacket, admiring him for a moment, unconcealed, and he must see it in your eyes because the smile shifts until one corner of his mouth pulls into a lighthearted smirk.

“Do I get a kiss?” he asks.

You grab the satin and pull him close. One day you are going to peel him out of this jacket and it won’t feel heavy anymore.

✦ ✧ ✦

3 – You gently wipe at his under-eye. The black smudge is persistent and you stop when the skin turns red. Copia’s eyes are closed even as he holds you. Wrapped around you he feels hot to the touch, almost feverish. He has gone non-verbal since he came home and you give him the space he needs, soft touches, rest and quiet.

The tension of the day still sits in his muscles, you can feel the knots when you run your hands over his back. The hot shower did not help, nor did the pasta he barely touched for dinner. He did well, everyone said this to you today. Whether he feels it you are not so certain.

You lean in and press a kiss to the round tip of his freckled nose. He blinks at you through tired, reddened eyes, lips curving into a lazy half-smile. His hand tightens at your waist, slides underneath your shirt to feel your skin. He’s your whole world molded into the shape of a man. Love, stored in the crinkles of his crow’s feet, every line on his face, in the brushstrokes of grey at his temples, an endless supply.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whisper, trailing the curve of his spine.

His eyes open and you feel guilty for disrupting his peace. But then he pulls you ever closer, squishing, the softness of your bodies mingling with a comforting warmth.

“I don’t…” He stops, brows pulled together. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I have no doubt that you can.” You study his features, move your hand to trace the lines of tension and smooth them out. He lets you, eyelids fluttering at the soft touch. “Every day from now on will be easier, Copia. My baby, I have such confidence in you. Unshakable.”

The words stir something in him. Some wetness gathers in his odd eyes but he blinks it away. You have to fight your own tears, good tears, for how far he has come. Then Copia nods, nods again but with more conviction. A deep exhale through his nose and he swallows the doubts away.

“You are right, always,” he says. “I was Papa Emeritus IV, eh? I did that.”

“You did.” A smile, proud and amused. “And now you are Frater Imperator.”

“Mhm, I am.”

“You are the head of this church, they are still your flock, adoring you, admiring you, trusting you. None of this has changed.” You cradle his face in both hands, a firm press of your thumbs to his cheekbones. “And you are still the man I love.”

“I am?”

“Forever.”

He closes the gap himself, a grateful kiss, seeking. You try to give him what he needs, firm and soft kisses, hands roaming, legs entangles. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, deeper still until all air escapes you and a dizzy fog fills your head. He is all you know, all you want for the rest of this life you live together.

The kisses slow down, not any less deep, and he cradles your head, keeping you pressed together. There is some need building, a languid wave that fades out in ripples. You feel him stir against your leg but he is not quite here with you, not entirely, and it subsides after a moment.

He breaks away with a heavy sigh, keeps his eyes closed.

“Perhaps not tonight,” you say, stroking his hair.

He nods and rests his forehead against yours. His breath tickles your nose, the embrace tighter than before. It feels easier now, somehow, and you can picture it so clearly. The future, him, and even in your head the world is quiet as you hold him close.

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – my Ao3 – Join my tag list

#rite here rite now spoilers #ghovie spoilers #rite here rite now #rhrn #rhrn spoilers #ghost movie spoilers #copia x reader #frater imperator x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #copia fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #frater imperator fanfiction #frater imperator

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seungminsbaldspot · 25 days

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Six Years, Five months and Two days | FIVE X READER

pairing: five hargreaves x reader

Word Count: this is really fucking long, 9201

Genre: angst

General Notes: Lila x Five did happen here folks :/, sexual themes, crude language, this does not correlate with whatever happens during seasons 4 other than Lila and Five jumping into a different timeline together for seven years, Reader is referred to as female and wife

Trigger Warnings: Relationship Betrayal: Themes of infidelity and emotional betrayal, Reproductive Issues: Discussions about abortion and related emotional impact, Emotional Distress: Exploration of deep sadness, heartache, and loneliness, Loss and Separation: Themes of losing a family and feeling disconnected, Regret and Self-criticism: Characters expressing regret and self-blame, Conflict and Argument: Scenes involving intense emotional conflict and Feelings of Inadequacy: Characters grappling with their self-worth and personal place in the world.

Taglist: @fate-posts @zukki33 @nightfury @lethergy @wingoodlilboymyway @hxllhxund @stxrg3m @bigbobass @mimirockss

Spoiler: not all things have a good ending

Click here for the previous part, Part Four!

The moment you close your bedroom door, a thought strikes you with clarity: Diego deserves to know about Five’s lingering feelings for Lila. You nod to yourself — deciding to look for him.

As you pass by Diego and Lila’s room, you notice the door is ajar. Peeking inside, you see Lila sprawled across the bed, her legs swinging idly in a manner that seems almost childlike. You shake your head in frustration—Diego is nowhere in sight.

You continue downstairs, Maybe the living room?

You make your way through the house, your footsteps echoing in the quiet. As you approach the living room, you see Diego sitting on the couch, absently polishing his knives, a small smile playing on his lips. For a brief moment, you’re struck by how serene and focused he looks, a stark contrast to the pain swirling in your own heart.

You feel a pang of sympathy for him. After all, you're both caught in the fallout of each other’s spouses choices. It's as if you and Diego are unwitting allies in this mess, both grappling with the consequences of their actions.

Swallowing hard, you approach Diego. “Diego,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady despite the weight of the revelation you’re about to share. He looks up, his expression shifting from calm to concerned as he takes in your serious demeanor.

“What’s going on?” he asks, setting the knife down and straightening his posture.

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “I—I know we haven’t talked about what happened with... well, you know who,” you say, glancing around awkwardly.” But I would really like to. Like right now.”

His eyebrow quirks up in confusion, but he nods, rising from the couch. “Is the garden okay for this conversation?” he asks, gesturing toward the door. You nod, leading the way to the garden. The fresh air and tranquil setting seem to offer a brief respite from the storm of emotions you're both experiencing. Diego follows, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

You nod, leading the way to the garden. The fresh air and tranquil setting seem to offer a brief respite from the storm of emotions swirling around you both. Diego follows, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

As you step outside, the evening light casts a soft glow over the garden, the flowers swaying gently in the breeze. You take a seat on a nearby bench, and Diego settles beside you, his posture tense but attentive.

“All right,” Diego says, looking at you with a mixture of anticipation and unease. “What’s on your mind?”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Five... he admitted to me that he still has feelings for Lila.” You pause, watching as Diego’s eyes narrow, his jaw tightening.

“He said that?” Diego asks, his voice low and controlled, but you can sense the anger simmering beneath the surface.

“Yes,” you reply quietly. “And I... I don’t know what to do. I’m thinking about ending things with him, but I wanted to talk to you first. I thought... maybe it would help someone in this mess. At least one of us.”

Diego’s jaw clenches, and he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “Unbelievable,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “That little shit.” He takes a deep breath, but it doesn’t seem to calm him much; his fists are still balled at his sides. “I don’t blame you for wanting to end things with him. I can’t believe you’ve put up with him for as long as you have.”

You offer a small shrug, feeling a mix of sadness and understanding. “I guess love makes you kind of stupid.” He goes quiet for a moment, staring off into the distance. “Yeah...”

After a beat, he looks back at you, determination flickering in his eyes. “I’m gonna go talk to Lila,” he says. “See you around?”

You nod, watching him turn and walk away, his movements tense and purposeful. He’s trying to keep his composure, but it’s clear that anger is coursing through him, each step more forceful than the last.

You head back to your room, hoping Five is gone. After everything that’s happened, it would be awkward to find him still there. As you climb the stairs, your mind races. Today has been a whirlwind. You and Five almost fucked again. You found out he still has feelings for Lila, which makes all his apologies feel meaningless. Now, you’re seriously considering ending things with him.

Just as you reach your bedroom floor, you hear shouting echoing down the hallway. Your heart quickens, the knot in your stomach tightening. You strain to listen, trying to make out the voices. It’s unmistakably Diego, his tone sharp with anger. You can’t make out what he’s saying, but it’s clear he’s furious.

And then, another voice cuts through—Lila’s. She’s shouting back, her words a rapid fire of frustration and defense. Your breath catches. Shit. They must be arguing about Five. You creep closer, curiosity and dread warring inside you.

Then you hear another voice — Five’s.

“We thought it would be better to just say it’s yours.”

Your heart skips a beat. What the hell is he talking about? You press yourself against the wall, straining to hear more, a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach.

“You lied about the baby? It’s not mine? What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” Diego yells.

There’s a moment of stunned silence, broken only by Lila’s frustrated sigh. “I didn’t lie,” she snaps back, her voice wavering between anger and defensiveness. “I just—”

“You just what?” Diego cuts her off, his tone dripping with betrayal. “You thought you’d trap me with a baby that wasn’t even mine?” Five’s voice comes through, low and controlled. “It wasn’t like that, Diego. We thought—”

But Diego’s anger flares hotter, his tone rising with each word. “I don’t give a shit what you thought!” he snaps. “This isn’t just my life you’re fucking with here —there’s a baby involved, and your wife’s life is on the line, too. Do you even realize what you’ve done?”

The room falls into a tense silence, the weight of Diego's words hanging heavy in the air. “Diego—please don’t tell her,” Five says, obviously referring to you. You slap your hand over your mouth, feeling a mix of anger and disbelief. Does he really think you’re that naive?

Diego groans in frustration. “I’m not a shady bitch,” he snaps. “You two are both fucking cheaters. You really are perfect for each other.” He turns to leave and, in doing so, catches sight of you. Your eyes widen in shock as you meet his gaze.

Diego chuckles darkly, shaking his head. “Looks like nobody’s gonna need to tell her,” he says, pointing toward you. Five’s eyes slowly meet yours, his expression shifting from shock to a pained resignation. “Fuck...” he mutters, running a hand through his hair.

Diego walks past you, giving your shoulder a pat before continuing down the hallway. You gulp, watching him go. As you turn to face Five and Lila, the reality of the situation hits hard. Lila is partially undressed—her shirt off but her bra and shorts still on. It’s clear what they were up to before Diego’s interruption. The sight confirms what you’ve feared and felt all along.

Five steps toward you, his face a mask of anguish. “Listen, I—”

You cut him off, shaking your head in disbelief. “Don’t fucking speak.” Your gaze locks onto Five, then shifts to Lila, your eyes narrowing with anger. You’re furious with them both. They were both married—how fucked up do they have to be in order to what to do this?

How fucked up are they in their heads, genuinely?

It’s been a few days since the confrontation, and the tension in the house has been palpable. Everything feels strained and fragile. You’ve spent this time preparing for the next steps, including arranging the divorce paperwork. Now, with the documents in hand, you’re feeling a mix of anxiety and resolve.

You take a deep breath and head to where Five is. He’s sitting alone, looking lost and distant. His posture is slumped, and he seems consumed by his thoughts.

“Five,” you begin, your voice trembling slightly. He looks up, his expression a mix of apprehension and sorrow.

“I’ve arranged everything for the divorce,” you continue, holding out the papers. “I need you to sign these.”

Five’s eyes move to the papers, and you can see the conflict swirling within him. He takes a deep breath, clearly struggling with his emotions. “I—I can’t sign these,” he says, his voice strained. “Not like this.”

You stare at him, frustration and hurt swirling inside you. “What do you mean you can’t sign them?” you ask, your voice tight. He sighs deeply, his gaze falling to the floor. “I’m not ready to lose you,” he says, his voice cracking with emotion.

You let out a bitter laugh. “I think you lost me the moment you decided to fuck Lila—and to top it off, get her knocked up.”

He sighs, his face a portrait of anguish. “I know I messed up. But can’t we at least try to talk this out?”

You shake your head, your voice trembling. “I think we’re past talking, Five. You lied to me about the baby being Diego’s and gave me nothing but empty apologies.” Your tears start to spill over. “How could I ever trust you again?”

He reaches out to grab you, but you jerk away, your voice sharp and resolute. “I don’t want your filthy hands on me ever a-fucking-gain.” Taking a deep breath, you hold up the papers. “You can either sign them or not. It doesn’t matter. Only one of us has to want to end the marriage. It’s not like we have assets or anything.”

Five’s shoulders slump, the weight of your words visibly crushing him. He looks down at the papers, his expression a mixture of regret and resignation. “I see. So this is really happening,” he says quietly, more to himself than to you.

You stand firm, though your heart aches with the finality of the moment. “Yes, it is,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

He remains silent for a moment, then nods slowly. “Alright. I’ll sign them,” he says, his voice low and broken. He reaches for a pen and begins to sign, each stroke a painful reminder of what was lost. You watch him in silence, your emotions a tangled mess of anger, sadness, and relief. When he finishes, he slides the papers back to you, his gaze avoiding yours. You take them, feeling the finality of the act settle over you. “Thank you,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll take these to the lawyer.”

Five nods, not trusting himself to speak. As you turn to leave, you glance back one last time, your heart heavy with a mix of disbelief and sorrow. It's hard to think that the person standing before you was once the man you once loved so deeply. The reality that you had once been so intertwined with this person, now feels surreal.

As you're making your way back to your bedroom, you bump into Diego. He glances at the papers in your hands and raises an eyebrow. “You made it official, huh?” he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and empathy.

You nod, trying to keep your composure. “Yeah, Just gotta take them to the lawyer.” Diego pauses, then asks, “Who’s the lawyer you’re going to?”

You look at him curiously but provide the name. Diego nods thoughtfully. “Is he any good? I mean,” he says, running a hand through his hair, “I’m, you know, looking for someone so Lila and I can separate.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, yeah, he’s good. Really professional and straightforward.” Diego gives a relieved nod. “Yeah, guess I’ll pay him a visit soon. Thanks for the info.” He pats your shoulder lightly before heading off toward his room.

As Diego walks away, you head back to your own room, feeling the weight of the day pressing heavily on your shoulders. The prospect of ending things with Five and the thought of Diego’s own separation weigh on your mind.

You settle into your room, seeking a moment of solitude. The silence around you is both soothing and suffocating, a stark contrast to the chaos of the past few days. As you start packing your things, the task feels oddly cathartic, each item folded and placed into boxes representing a step toward closing this painful chapter of your life.

The process is slow and deliberate. You pick up a framed photograph from the nightstand, a snapshot of a happier time. The image of Five, with his easy smile and bright eyes, feels like a cruel reminder of what was once real. Is this really what’s best? you wonder, your heart aching as memories flood back. You question whether you’re making the right choice, feeling a pang of doubt.

You carefully fold a sweater, the fabric soft against your fingers. Maybe there’s a chance to fix this? You let the thought linger before shaking it away. The reality of Five’s betrayal, his affair with Lila, and the lies about the baby weigh heavily on you. How could you ever trust him again? The thought echoes through your mind, a painful but necessary reminder of why you’re doing this.

As you continue packing, you come across a small box of keepsakes—letters, trinkets from trips, and tokens of affection that once held so much meaning. Each item now feels like a relic of a past that no longer fits with your present reality. The sight of these mementos makes your chest tighten. Isn’t it sad how something that once meant so much can become a symbol of heartache? you think.

You pause to take a deep breath, your emotions a tumultuous mix of anger, sadness, and resignation. Five used to be someone you believed in, you remind yourself. He was full of promise, of dreams and plans. But those promises mean nothing now, shattered by his deceit and betrayal. The framed picture of him, still smiling, feels like a lie, a facade that crumbled the moment he chose to be with someone else.

No, you tell yourself firmly. Five is a liar and a cheater. He betrayed you in the worst possible way, and his apologies were nothing but empty words. You cannot ignore the evidence of his deceit, nor can you overlook the fact that he has continued to deceive, even in the aftermath of everything that’s happened.

The weight of the decision presses down on you. You think about the life you’ve built together, the dreams you shared, and how those dreams have been tarnished. This is the right decision, you insist to yourself. It may be painful, but staying in this house, in this relationship, would only prolong the suffering. You deserve better than to be someone’s second choice, a pawn in their misguided plans.

You take one last look around the room, the space that once felt like a sanctuary now stripped of its comfort. With a final sigh, you continue packing.

It’s been a few days since Five signed the divorce papers. The act itself felt monumental at the time, like a heavy door slamming shut on a chapter of your life. Yet, in the days that followed, you’ve felt more like you’re in limbo than moving forward. You’ve spent hours packing up your belongings, folding memories into cardboard boxes, trying to make sense of what’s worth keeping and what needs to be left behind.

You aren’t sure if Five is aware that you’re planning to leave the Hargreeves residence for good. He’s been keeping his distance since that final conversation, but whether it’s out of respect or a desire to avoid confrontation, you can’t tell. Part of you wonders if he even notices your absence from shared spaces or if he’s too wrapped up in his own guilt and shame to care. The uncertainty gnaws at you, and you hate it. You hate that after everything, you still find yourself thinking about him—about what he’s thinking, feeling, and doing.

It’s a cruel irony, you think, as you pull another sweater from the closet and fold it neatly. Despite all the betrayal and heartache, you’re still haunted by thoughts of him. You catch yourself wondering if he’s regretting his choices, if he’s truly sorry, or if he’s already moved on. You try to push these thoughts away, focusing instead on the task at hand, but it’s difficult. They keep creeping back in, uninvited and unwanted, like a song stuck in your head that you can’t seem to shake.

You glance around the room, now half-empty, and feel a pang of sadness. This space, once filled with warmth and the echoes of shared laughter, now feels hollow. It’s strange how quickly things can change—how a place that felt like home can become just a room, stripped of its meaning and significance. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Focus on what’s next, you remind yourself. Not on what’s been lost.

Still, as you move through the house, collecting the last of your things, you can’t help but feel a mix of emotions. Anger, sadness, frustration—all of them swirl inside you, a tempest that you’re struggling to keep contained. The thought of Five lingers at the back of your mind, a constant, nagging presence. Even now, after everything he’s done, you still find yourself wondering about him. It infuriates you.

Why do you still care what he thinks? Why does it still matter?

You want to be done with him, to close this chapter and move on with your life. But it’s not that simple. Love, even when tainted by betrayal, doesn’t just disappear overnight. It clings to you, lingers in the quiet moments, and makes itself known when you least expect it. You suppose that’s the hardest part—learning to let go, not just of the person, but of all the hopes and dreams that came with them.

As you fold the last of your clothes, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You look tired, worn out. This whole ordeal has taken a toll on you, both physically and emotionally. You brush a stray hair from your face and take a deep breath. Your’e doing the right thing, You deserve better.

You finish packing the box and tape it shut with a resolute sigh. You step back, surveying the room one last time. It feels surreal to think that this is it—that after everything, you’re really leaving. You try to focus on the future, on the fresh start that awaits you, but your thoughts keep drifting back to Five.

What will he do when he sees you’re gone? Will he even care? The questions twist in your mind, and you feel a fresh wave of frustration wash over you. Why does it still matter? But deep down, you already know the answer.

Because you loved him. Because, despite everything, a part of you still does.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. You can’t dwell on that now. You have to move forward, to think about what’s best for you. And staying here, in this house filled with ghosts, isn’t it.

Grabbing the last of your things, you head toward the door. As you step into the hallway, you pause, half-expecting to see Five coming around the corner, to hear his voice calling after you. But there’s nothing—just silence. And for the first time in days, you feel a small, fragile sense of relief. Maybe this is the beginning of the end. Maybe it’s the start of something new.

With a deep breath, you make your way down the stairs, each step feeling like a step toward a new chapter. You don’t know what the future holds, but one thing is certain: it’s time to leave the past behind.

You make your way to the front door, a heavy box in your hands. Each step feels more final than the last, the weight of the moment sinking in. You’ve rented a moving van that’s parked out front, its back door open and ready to receive the remnants of a life you’re leaving behind. You’ve found a small, cheap, but nice apartment across town—a place to start over. It’s not much, but it’s perfect for what you need — an escape.

As you reach the door, you see Diego standing nearby. He catches sight of you struggling with the box and quickly steps forward, pulling the door open for you. “Thanks,” you mutter, trying to keep your voice steady, though it’s clear he can see the exhaustion and sadness etched on your face.

He nods, his expression softening with understanding. “You got any other boxes?” he asks, his voice low, but there’s a warmth in it—a kindness that you’ve come to appreciate over the past few days.

You hesitate for a moment, then nod. “Yeah, a few more in the living room,” you reply, shifting the box in your arms slightly. “I’ve been packing them up. This is the last of the stuff from upstairs.”

Diego takes the box from you effortlessly, holding it with ease. “I’ll help you carry them out,” he offers. “No sense in doing this alone.”

You give him a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks, Diego,” you say, feeling a bit of the weight on your shoulders lift—not just from the box, but from the gesture itself. He’s been a surprising source of comfort through all of this. Despite his own heartbreak, he’s been there for you, offering support without asking for anything in return.

Together, you walk back into the living room, where a few more boxes are stacked against the wall. Diego sets the box he’s carrying down and looks around. “You’re really leaving, huh?” he says, more as an observation than a question.

“Yeah,” you answer, a hint of sadness in your voice. “I think it’s for the best. Staying here… it’s just too hard.” Diego nods, understanding. “I get it,” he says softly. “Sometimes, you just need to get away from the place that hurt you, start fresh somewhere new.”

You glance at him, seeing the shared pain in his eyes. He’s been going through his own struggles, dealing with Lila’s betrayal and the fallout from it. You feel a strange sense of camaraderie with him—like you’re both navigating the same storm, even if in different boats.

He grabs another box, hefting it easily. “You know,” he begins, his tone thoughtful, “if you ever need anything… if you ever want to talk or, I don’t know, just get away from all this for a bit… I’m here.”

His words are sincere, and you feel a warmth in your chest. “Thank you, Diego,” you say again, your voice softer this time. “I really appreciate that.” He nods, giving you a small, reassuring smile. “No problem. We’ve got to stick together, right?”

You nod back, a faint smile tugging at your lips. It’s a small comfort, knowing that even in the midst of all this chaos, there’s someone who understands—someone who’s willing to help you through it.

Together, you and Diego carry the rest of the boxes out to the van. The sun is starting to set, casting a warm, golden light over everything. It almost feels like the world is giving you a gentle nudge forward, encouraging you to keep going.

As you load the last box into the van, you turn to Diego. “I guess this is it,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, though there’s a hint of emotion in it.

Diego nods, looking at you with a mixture of empathy and encouragement. “Yeah, I guess it is,” he replies. “But remember, it’s not the end. It’s just… a new beginning.”

You take a deep breath, letting his words sink in. “A new beginning,” you repeat softly, nodding. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

He gives you a reassuring nod, then steps back, allowing you to close the van’s door. As you turn to leave, he raises a hand in a casual salute. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

You nod, feeling a mix of gratitude and sadness. “You too, Diego,” you say. “You too.”

With that, you climb into the driver’s seat of the van. You take one last look at the Hargreeves residence—the place that has been your home, your prison, your battlefield. Then, with a deep breath, you start the engine and drive away, leaving the past behind as you head toward whatever comes next.

You've settled nicely into your new apartment. The place is small but cozy, with just enough room for the few belongings you took with you. It’s quiet, too—so much quieter than you’re used to. The silence, however, kills you.

At the Hargreeves residence, there was always noise, always something happening to keep your mind from wandering. Whether it was Klaus losing his mind over something as simple as misplacing a bottle of booze, or Allison laughing with Luther over some inside joke. There was Viktor playing the violin in the early mornings, his melodies filling the house with a kind of soft serenity. Even Diego and Lila’s constant bickering had its own comforting rhythm—a mix of arguing and laughing that made the place feel alive. But now, in your new place, there’s none of that. Just silence. Heavy, all-encompassing silence.

And then, of course, there’s Five.

God, you miss him.

It hits you like a punch to the gut every time you think about it. You miss the way he would storm into a room, all sharp edges and quick wit, filling the space with his presence. The way his brow would furrow in concentration when he was deep in thought or working on one of his plans. The way his eyes would soften when he looked at you in those rare, unguarded moments when he allowed himself to be vulnerable.

You miss the sound of his voice, that low, smooth timbre that could shift from calm calculation to biting sarcasm in an instant. You miss the warmth of his touch, the way his hand would linger on your back, reassuring and steadying you. Even now, you can still feel the ghost of his touch, the way it sent shivers down your spine.

You hate how much you miss him. How, despite everything he’s done, every lie he’s told, every betrayal you’ve suffered, you still find yourself longing for him. You hate the way your heart aches whenever you think of him, a dull, persistent throb that refuses to go away.

It’s like there’s a part of you that can’t let go, no matter how hard you try. A part of you that still clings to the hope that maybe, just maybe, things could have been different. That maybe he could have chosen you, could have been honest with you, could have loved you the way you loved him.

But he didn’t.

And now, here you are, alone in this quiet apartment, with nothing but your thoughts and memories to keep you company.

You try to distract yourself, to fill the silence with noise. You turn on the TV, but it feels hollow and meaningless. You play some music, but it only reminds you of the songs you used to listen to with Five, the ones you danced to in the kitchen late at night, laughing and spinning around like you didn’t have a care in the world.

You try reading, but your mind keeps wandering back to him, to the way things used to be. To the life you thought you were building together.

Eventually, you give up and let the silence wash over you. You let yourself feel the weight of it, the emptiness that stretches out around you. You let yourself feel the pain, the loneliness, the heartache.

Because maybe that’s the only way you’ll ever be able to move on.

Maybe you just have to let yourself feel it all, let yourself grieve for what was and what could have been. Let yourself mourn the loss of a love that wasn’t meant to be.

And maybe, one day, the silence won’t feel so heavy. Maybe one day, it won’t hurt so much.

But for now, you just sit there, alone in your quiet apartment, and let yourself miss him.

God, you miss him.

You think about what could have been if Five hadn’t cheated.

It’s a thought that creeps up on you more often than you’d like to admit, slipping into your mind in the quiet moments when you’re alone with your thoughts. What if he hadn’t betrayed you? What if he hadn’t gone back to Lila, hadn’t lied to you about it, hadn’t gotten her pregnant?

You close your eyes and let yourself imagine it for a moment—a different reality, one where things didn’t fall apart. Where you and Five are still together, still living in the Hargreeves mansion with all its chaos and noise. You imagine waking up next to him, his arm draped lazily over you, his face soft and peaceful in sleep. You’d watch him for a few moments, taking in the sight of him before he stirs awake, his eyes blinking open to meet yours.

In this imagined reality, there’s no tension, no betrayal hanging between you. There’s only the love you felt for each other, warm and comforting like a blanket. You’d start your days together, sharing quiet mornings with cups of coffee and stolen kisses. Maybe you’d argue about something silly—Five always did have a way of getting under your skin with his stubbornness—but it would be the kind of argument that ends in laughter, in making up and teasing touches.

You’d work together on whatever problems or missions came up, a seamless team. Five would still be his intense, driven self, always planning, always strategizing, but there would be moments of softness, too. Moments where he’d let his guard down just for you, where he’d let you see the parts of himself he kept hidden from everyone else.

Maybe you’d go out sometimes, just the two of you. You’d walk through the city, hand in hand, sharing stories and secrets, feeling like the only two people in the world. And at night, you’d come home to the mansion, to the noise and the chaos, but it wouldn’t matter. Because you’d have each other.

You’d have a future together—a real future. One where you could imagine growing old with him, seeing the lines of age etch into his face, his hair going a little grayer, his body maybe slowing down a bit. But through it all, you’d still be by his side. Still his partner, his confidante, his love.

And maybe, just maybe, there would be a family. Not like the Hargreeves siblings—a real family, a small one, made up of just the two of you and maybe a child or two. You can almost see it: a little boy with Five’s intense eyes or a girl with your smile, running through the halls of the mansion, bringing a different kind of noise to the place. You and Five would watch them grow, teach them, protect them, love them with everything you had.

But then reality crashes back in, shattering the fragile dream.

Because that’s all it is—a dream. A fantasy of what could have been, what might have been if Five had made different choices. If he hadn’t cheated, hadn’t lied, hadn’t chosen Lila over you.

Your heart aches with the loss of it, with the realization that the life you’re imagining was never real and never could be. You think about the way Five used to look at you, the way he held you like you were his whole world. You remember the promises he made, the plans you made together.

And then you remember the betrayal. The lies. The nights you spent alone, wondering where he was, what he was doing. The sick feeling in your stomach when you found out about Lila, the way your world crumbled around you when you realized he’d been lying to you all along.

The dream fades, replaced by the stark reality of your new life. Alone in your quiet apartment, far away from the noise and the chaos of the Hargreeves mansion, far away from Five and all the pain he caused.

Maybe it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Better to be alone than to be with someone who could hurt you so deeply, who could betray you so completely.

But still, you can’t help but wonder. What if?

What if he hadn’t cheated?

What if he’d chosen you?

What if things could have been different?

You know you can’t change the past. You can’t go back and rewrite history, no matter how much you wish you could. But the thought lingers, a quiet whisper in the back of your mind, a reminder of what might have been.

And as much as you hate it, as much as you want to move on and leave it all behind, you know it’s going to take time. Time to heal, time to forget, time to let go of the what-ifs and the could-have-beens.

You sigh, feeling the weight of it all settle over you once more. You turn on the TV again, hoping for a distraction, but your mind keeps drifting back to him, to what you had, to what you’ve lost.

Maybe one day, you’ll be able to let go of the past and move on. Maybe one day, you’ll stop wondering what if.

But today isn’t that day.

Today, you still think about him. About what could have been. About the life you could have had together.

And you can’t help but miss him.

God, you miss him.

You sigh, the sound echoing softly in the silence of your new apartment. You glance around, taking in the sparse, unfamiliar surroundings. It’s not much, but it’s yours. The walls are bare, the furniture minimal—just the essentials. It still smells faintly of fresh paint and new beginnings, but there’s an emptiness to it that you can’t quite shake. The quiet is suffocating, a stark contrast to the constant noise and chaos of the Hargreeves mansion.

You lick your lips, your mouth suddenly dry. What’s he up to now? The thought slips into your mind before you can stop it. You hate that you’re still thinking about him, still wondering about him. But the truth is, you can’t help it. Five has been a part of your life for so long that it feels strange not to know where he is, what he’s doing. The absence of his presence is a void that you can’t seem to fill.

You imagine him back at the mansion, surrounded by the remnants of a life you once shared. Is he in his room, sitting in that old leather chair, sipping on whiskey and poring over some ancient book? Is he pacing the halls, his mind racing with plans and calculations, always thinking, always moving? Or is he in the kitchen, making himself a cup of coffee, his expression pensive as he stares out the window, lost in thought?

Maybe he’s with Lila. The thought makes your stomach twist. You can almost picture it: the two of them together, their heads close as they whisper and scheme. Maybe they’re arguing, as they often did, their voices raised, filled with that strange blend of love and hate that seemed to define their relationship. Or maybe they’re...you can’t even bring yourself to think about it. The idea is too painful, too raw.

You shake your head, trying to push the thoughts away. It doesn’t matter what he’s doing, you tell yourself firmly. He’s not your concern anymore. He made his choice. And you made yours. You chose to leave, to start over, to try and build a new life without him. But even as you tell yourself this, you can’t help but feel the ache of longing, the pull of what once was.

You wonder if he’s thinking about you too. If he regrets what happened. If he misses you. A part of you hopes he does—that he’s feeling even a fraction of the pain you’re feeling. But another part of you knows that it doesn’t change anything. Regret won’t undo the betrayal. Missing you won’t mend the trust that’s been broken.

You rise from the couch and move to the window, looking out over the city. It’s a gray day, the sky heavy with clouds. The world outside feels distant, almost dreamlike, as if it’s moving on without you. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to ward off the chill that’s settled deep in your bones.

What is he doing right now? The question hangs in the air, unanswered. You imagine picking up the phone, dialing his number, hearing his voice on the other end. But you know that’s not an option. Not anymore. You’ve made your choice, and he’s made his. There’s no going back.

Still, the curiosity nags at you, the wondering. It’s a hard habit to break, the urge to know, to be connected. For so long, your life was intertwined with his, your days and nights filled with him. It’s strange to think of a future without that, without him.

You turn away from the window, forcing yourself to move, to do something. Anything to distract yourself from the thoughts swirling in your mind. You start unpacking a box, pulling out books and setting them on the shelf, trying to focus on the mundane task in front of you. But your mind keeps drifting back to him, to the life you had, to the life you could have had.

Is he thinking about me? you wonder again. Does he miss me? You shake your head, trying to clear the thoughts away. You know you need to let go, to stop wondering, to stop caring. But it’s easier said than done.

You pause, holding a book in your hands, staring at it without really seeing it. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It’s time to move on, you remind yourself. Time to focus on your own life, on your own future.

You haven’t heard from any of the Hargreeves since you left. The silence is heavy, a constant reminder of the void that has opened up in your life. They were the closest thing to a family you had, a group of misfits who somehow fit together. Now, without them, you feel unmoored, drifting in a sea of uncertainty.

Your thoughts turn to the commission—your former employer, and in some twisted way, another kind of family. That was a lifetime ago. You left that world behind, hoping for something better, something more. But now, standing alone in your small, empty apartment, you wonder if you made the right choice.

The reality of your situation sinks in. You don’t have a family outside of the Hargreeves. You were pulled into their orbit by Five, drawn into their chaotic world, and in a way, you found a place there. But now, you’re adrift again, and the loneliness is almost suffocating.

Your actual family, the one you were born into, is most likely not even in this timeline. The thought makes your chest tighten with a mix of frustration and sadness. You don’t even know where they are or if they’re alive. Time travel has its costs, and the disconnection from your roots is one of them. Even if you wanted to find them, there’s no way to do it without the commission’s help. And after everything that’s happened, going back there is the last thing you want.

You rub your temples, feeling a headache starting to form. The isolation is starting to wear on you. You’ve tried to fill your days with work, with unpacking, with anything that might distract you from the gnawing emptiness. But no matter what you do, the thoughts creep back in.

What would it be like to switch timelines? you wonder. To find a world where things turned out differently, where you and Five never crossed paths, or where he never cheated, and you lived out the life you once imagined together. But those thoughts are just fantasies, just as unreachable as the timeline they belong to. Without the commission’s technology, there’s no way to hop between realities.

Even if there was, you know it wouldn’t be as simple as that. Time and space are fragile, and messing with them comes with consequences. You’ve seen firsthand the damage that can be done by playing with the fabric of reality. And besides, running away to another timeline wouldn’t change what happened here. It wouldn’t heal the hurt or mend the trust that’s been broken.

You sit down on the edge of your bed, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. You feel more alone than you ever have, even more than when you first joined the commission, or when you first found yourself thrust into the chaos of the Hargreeves’ world. At least then, you had something to hold onto. Now, you feel like you’re grasping at air.

You sigh, “I need some air.”

You stand up, the heaviness in your chest making it difficult to breathe. The walls of your apartment feel like they’re closing in on you, the silence suffocating. The emptiness is overwhelming. You need to get out, to clear your head, to find some way to make sense of the mess your life has become.

Grabbing your coat from the hook by the door, you slip it on and head outside. The afternoon sun is high in the sky, casting warm rays that offer a sharp contrast to the cold, stagnant atmosphere of your apartment. The city streets are alive with activity—people bustling about, cars honking, vendors calling out to passersby. The noise feels overwhelming, but also oddly comforting. It reminds you that life goes on, even when yours feels like it’s standing still.

You start walking, not really sure where you’re going, just needing to move, to escape the thoughts that have been plaguing you. Your footsteps blend into the hum of the city, lost among the chatter and footsteps of others. You walk past busy storefronts and colorful cafes, the scent of freshly baked bread and brewing coffee filling the air. You pull your coat tighter around you, though the air is mild. The weight of your thoughts is what brings the chill.

What am I doing? you think to yourself. You feel a surge of frustration bubbling up inside you. How did I end up here?

As you wander, you find yourself heading towards a familiar place—the park where you used to go with Five. It was a favorite spot, a place where you’d both sit and talk for hours, sharing dreams and plans, back when the future felt certain. The memories are bittersweet now, but some part of you feels drawn to it, as if it holds some answers you can’t quite reach.

You reach the park and make your way to a bench near the fountain, one you remember sitting on many times before. The sound of the water trickling into the basin is calming, a soft, soothing melody amidst the noise of the city. You sit down, staring out at the small pond, watching the ducks glide across the surface, the sunlight glinting off the water.

The afternoon sun casts long shadows across the ground, and the park is filled with people—joggers, families, couples walking hand in hand. You watch them, feeling a strange mix of envy and detachment. They all seem so carefree, so unaware of the weight that you carry.

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to ground yourself in the moment. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of something—someone—that makes your heart skip a beat. You turn your head slightly, your breath catching in your throat.

It’s Five.

He’s across the park, sitting at a small outdoor café, a cup of coffee in front of him. His head is down, focused on a book in his hands, his expression calm and absorbed. He looks different out here, in the daylight, without the familiar surroundings of the Hargreeves mansion. More relaxed, almost like the man you fell in love with. You feel a pang in your chest as you watch him, a mix of longing and hurt.

What is he doing here? Does he come here often?

You hesitate, torn between the urge to approach him and the instinct to turn and walk away. You know that seeing him will only reopen old wounds, but some part of you can’t help but be drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, to calm the racing of your heart.

He looks up from his book suddenly, as if sensing your presence, and his eyes meet yours across the park. For a moment, time seems to stand still. You can see the surprise in his eyes, the flicker of recognition, followed by something else—something softer, almost wistful.

You’re not sure what to do, whether to stay or go, whether to speak or remain silent. Your feet feel rooted to the ground, unable to move in either direction. Five raises his hand in a small, hesitant wave, his expression cautious, almost hopeful.

You swallow hard, your emotions a tangled mess. You don’t know what to say, what to do. You’ve imagined this moment so many times, and yet now that it’s here, you’re at a loss. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your breath coming in shallow bursts.

Finally, you take a step forward, then another, your movements slow and uncertain. Five’s eyes remain on you, watching your approach with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. You stop a few feet away from him, close enough to see the small details of his face—the faint lines of worry, the sadness in his eyes.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey,” you reply, your own voice trembling with emotion.

There’s a long pause, a silence that stretches out between you, filled with all the things you want to say but don’t know how. You can see the regret in his eyes, the apology he’s trying to convey without words.

“Do you…want to sit?” he asks, gesturing to the chair across from him.

You hesitate for a moment, then nod slowly, pulling out the chair and sitting down. The distance between you feels both vast and intimate, a strange mix of familiarity and distance.

Five looks down at his hands, then back up at you, his expression pained. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he admits. “I’ve been coming here a lot lately…thinking.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. You don’t know what to say, what to feel. Part of you wants to lash out, to demand answers, to make him feel the hurt you’ve been carrying. But another part of you just wants to understand, to find some kind of closure.

“I miss you,” he says suddenly, his voice breaking the silence. “Every day. I think about you, about us. About everything I’ve ruined.”

Your heart clenches at his words, his voice full of that quiet sincerity that used to melt your resolve. But now, all it does is stir the anger that’s been simmering beneath the surface since the day you found out. You want to believe him, but the wounds are still too fresh, the betrayal still too raw.

“Miss me?” you scoff, your voice rising, unable to keep the bitterness out of your tone. “You don’t get to miss me, Five. You lost that right when you decided to screw around with Lila. And what about your baby? You want to talk about what you’ve ruined? Look around. You did this. You chose this.”

Five's face contorts with pain, but he pushes through, his voice trembling. “Lila… she lied about the baby.”

The words hit you like a physical blow, leaving you momentarily stunned. The sharp edge of your anger is blunted by shock.

You shake your head in disbelief. “So the baby never existed? She lied?”

Five nods slowly, his eyes filled with deep sorrow. “Yes. There was no baby. She told me it was a lie to manipulate me, to keep me from leaving.”

He looks down, his face falling further. He takes a sip of his coffee, making a face at the taste. He was always very particular about his coffee, and clearly, this one didn't meet his standards.

You feel overwhelmed, the weight of his confession settling heavily on your shoulders. “I—I don’t know what to say, Five.”

He shakes his head, a mixture of resignation and frustration in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” he says softly. You sigh, your mind rushing, Should you even say this?

“If I’m being honest, I guess that I’ve missed you too.”

Five’s expression shifts, a flicker of hope and disbelief in his eyes. He seems to struggle with his emotions, clearly taken aback by your admission. For a moment, the tension between you both eases slightly, though the weight of everything that’s happened still lingers heavily.

“You’ve missed me?” Five asks, his voice barely audible. There’s a vulnerability in his tone that makes your heart ache even more.

You shake your head, “Don’t let that get to your head. We were together for years. Of fucking course I missed your dumbass.”

Five’s face falls slightly, his vulnerability giving way to a trace of hurt. He opens his mouth to respond but seems to reconsider, his words catching in his throat. He simply nods, a resigned look settling over him.

You continue, trying to keep your tone steady despite the flood of emotions. “Don’t take that the wrong way. It’s not about wanting to fix things or go back to how we were. It’s just… hard to completely erase what we had.”

Five’s eyes are focused on the swirling coffee in his cup, his fingers drumming on the mug. “I understand,” he says quietly, as if trying to make sense of everything himself. A heavy silence stretches between you, filled with unspoken words and lingering emotions.

You shift uncomfortably, your mind racing. Was coming over here a mistake? you wonder. The weight of the conversation feels overwhelming, and you start to question whether reopening this wound was the right choice.

Breaking the silence, Five sighs heavily. “She was kicked out of the house,” he says, his voice tinged with a mix of relief and sadness.

You look up, startled. “Lila was kicked out?” The shock is evident in your voice. You had imagined many possible scenarios, but this wasn’t one of them.

Five nods, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. After everything that happened… Diego couldn’t take it anymore. He asked her to leave.”

You pause, your mind racing. After a moment, you ask, “Do you not have feelings for her anymore?”

Five turns his gaze to the side, his face a mixture of frustration and regret. “I… I’m not sure. I fucked up, really fucking bad. I don’t think I deserve to feel any way about anything at this point.”

The honesty in his voice stings. You want to believe him, and you almost think you can see the sincerity in his eyes. But he’s lied to you before, What does this matter?

You sigh, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m glad you’re finally starting to become self-aware. It’s a start, at least.” You look at him, trying to gauge if there's any real change in him or if this is just another layer of his guilt.

Five shifts uncomfortably, his eyes avoiding yours. “I wish things could be different.”

“I do too,” you say, your voice soft as you look away.

The silence stretches out, filled with the weight of unspoken regrets and shattered dreams. You take a deep breath, fighting back the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "I should go," you finally say, turning to leave.

Five nods, his face a mix of sorrow and resignation. As you walk away, you feel the sting of finality in every step. The distance between you grows, and with it, the painful realization that some wounds may never fully heal.

It really fucking sucks what Six Years, Five Months and Two days can do to a person.

Final Author's Notes: Starting off, I want to thank everyone for loving this fic. This fic was the first time I've really wrote angst -- and I had no idea that I would love writing it so much.

I had come up with the idea for this literally the day I posted part one -- but the ending was completely different. Reader was supposed to stay with Five and work things out, but after seeing how people reacted -- I decided to adapt and change some things. I really like how this ended, (UNLIKE THE SHOW)

and given that I will be writing a happy Five Fic / oneshot coming within the next few days bc season 4 was fucked up :P

#sbs posting #five hargreaves x you #five hargreeves #five x lila #five x reader #tua five #tua s4 #tua season 4 #five hargreaves x reader #five x y/n #angst #hargreeves siblings #tua fandom #tua fanfic #tua #the umbrella academy season 4 #tua s4 spoilers #umbrella acedmy #the umbrella academy spoilers

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jcxbliss · 1 month

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“im so tired cheol”

Pairing - Choi Seungcheol x Female Reader

Genre - Idol AU, Established Relationship, Comfort, Slight Angst

Synopsis - HEADLINE - Seventeen’s leader accidental leak of relationship with a non idol!

Tag 🏷️- @hipsdofangirl

Seungcheol was deep into practice when his phone buzzed incessantly on the side of the stage. The noise of his notifications was so persistent that it became impossible to ignore. Between takes, Hoshi noticed the commotion and walked over, his brows furrowing with concern.

“Hyung, your phone’s going crazy,” Hoshi said, tapping Seungcheol on the shoulder and holding out the device. “Check it out.”

Seungcheol glanced at the screen and saw a cascade of notifications, most of them from his Instagram. His heart sank as he saw the comments flooding in, many of them harsh and critical. He quickly scrolled through the feed, his eyes widening when he saw the photo of you two, which had clearly struck a nerve with fans.

“This isn’t good,” Seungcheol muttered, his voice tense. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Hoshi looked over Seungcheol’s shoulder, his expression turning serious. “You need to handle this. Do you want me to help with anything?”

Seungcheol took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Yeah, thanks. I need to address this right away. I didn’t realize how big of a reaction this would cause.”

As practice continued, Seungcheol’s mind was preoccupied with the situation. He managed to complete his schedule, but his thoughts were consumed by the need to fix the mess he’d inadvertently created. He quickly made his way to the locker room, where he found a quiet corner to compose a thoughtful response.

Meanwhile, Hoshi stayed by his side, offering support. “We’ve got your back,” he said, giving Seungcheol a reassuring pat on the back. “You’re not alone in this.”

Seungcheol appreciated the gesture but was focused on crafting a message that would clarify the situation and address the concerns of his fans. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he carefully drafted an explanation, aiming to resolve the issue and express his gratitude for the support of his fanbase.

After posting the message, Seungcheol took a moment to collect his thoughts. He turned to Hoshi with a sigh of relief. “I’ve explained everything and apologized for the mix-up. I hope this helps.”

Hoshi nodded. “It will. You’ve handled it well. Just take it easy for now and let things settle.”

As Seungcheol left the practice room, he felt a wave of exhaustion. He knew that a simple address to the situation wouldn’t solve things quickly but that wasn’t his concern.

When Seungcheol finally made it home after a long day of practice and dealing with the fallout from his Instagram post, he walked through the front door and called out for you. “Hey, I’m back! Are you here?”

There was no immediate response, so he moved through the apartment, eventually finding you in the bedroom. You were sitting on the bed, your laptop open in front of you, scrolling through the comments. Seungcheol’s heart sank when he saw the expression on your face—pained and overwhelmed.

“Hey, I thought I told you not to look at those comments,” Seungcheol said gently, sitting down beside you. “I’m really sorry about all this.”

You looked up, eyes red and voice tinged with frustration. “I tried to stay away, but I just couldn’t. Look at this!” You pointed at the screen, reading aloud some of the hateful comments.

“‘Who does she think she is, thinking she can be with Seungcheol?’” you read with a tremor in your voice. “And ‘She’s just a distraction, not even worth the time!’”

Seungcheol’s expression grew more pained as he listened. “I know those comments are hurtful, but you shouldn’t take them to heart. They’re just people who don’t know us.”

You shook your head, tears welling up. “It’s not that easy. Seeing things like ‘She doesn’t belong in his world’ and ‘Seungcheol can do better’ makes me feel like I’m a problem. Like I’m messing up your life.”

“No, that’s not true at all,” Seungcheol said firmly, taking your hand. “These comments are just noise. They don’t reflect who you are or what you mean to me. I made a mistake, and I’m sorry. But you and I, we’re okay. We’re stronger than this.”

You pulled your hand away, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. “I just wish people could understand that we’re real people, not just characters in their fantasy. It’s hard to ignore the hate.”

Seungcheol moved closer, wrapping his arm around you in a comforting embrace. “I understand, and I wish I could make it all go away. But you’re not alone in this. We’ll get through it together. I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right and show everyone that you’re important to me.”

You leaned into him, taking a deep breath as you tried to calm the storm inside. “I just want to believe that, Seungcheol. I really do.”

“We’ll make sure of it,” he said softly. “I’ll keep fighting for us, and I’ll make sure people know how much you mean to me. Let’s focus on each other and move past this. Together.”

Seungcheol held you tightly, his embrace offering solace amid the turmoil. After a few moments, he gently pulled back, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering determination.

“Let’s take a break from all of this,” he suggested, his voice gentle but firm. “We need to step away from the negativity and do something that makes us both happy.”

You hesitated but saw the earnest look in his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

Seungcheol’s face brightened with a smile. “How about a cozy night in? We could order your favorite food, watch a movie, and just relax. It’ll be a chance to focus on the good stuff.

You nodded, feeling a small lift in your spirits at the thought of spending a quiet, stress-free evening together. “That sounds nice.”

Seungcheol stood up and began to make calls to order dinner. As he chatted with the delivery service, you took the opportunity to close your laptop and try to shake off the heaviness of the day. When Seungcheol returned to the bedroom, he had a bright smile and a couple of movie options in hand.

“I’ve got our food on the way,” he said. “And I picked out a few movies we can watch. Anything in particular you’re in the mood for?”

You looked at the movie choices he held up and smiled for the first time that evening. “How about that rom-com we both love? It’ll be nice to have a bit of fun.”

Seungcheol’s face lit up with relief. “Perfect choice. I’ll set everything up while we wait for dinner.”

As he prepared the space for your movie night, you watched him with appreciation. The warmth and thoughtfulness he brought to the evening were a stark contrast to the harshness of the comments you’d read. The atmosphere slowly shifted from tension to comfort as you both settled into the cozy setup he’d created.

When the food arrived, you both dug in, laughing and chatting about light-hearted topics. Seungcheol kept the mood upbeat, sharing funny stories from practice and playfully teasing you about your movie preferences.

As the movie played, you felt a sense of normalcy return. The negativity of the day began to fade into the background, replaced by the simple joy of being with Seungcheol. His unwavering support and the effort he put into making you feel better were a reminder of his deep care and commitment.

By the end of the night, you felt a renewed sense of peace. Seungcheol turned to you as the credits rolled, his expression soft and sincere. “Thank you for spending the evening with me. I know it’s been tough, but I hope tonight helped a bit.”

You nodded, your heart warmed by his presence. “It did. I needed this more than you know. Thank you for being here and for everything you’ve done.”

Seungcheol kissed your forehead gently. “We’ll get through this together. I promise. And remember, no matter what, you’re never alone.”

……….

The following days brought a gradual but steady improvement. Seungcheol remained by your side, his support unwavering as you navigated the aftermath of the controversy. His thoughtful gestures and constant reassurance made a significant difference, helping you regain your sense of normalcy.

One morning, as you both enjoyed a leisurely breakfast together, Seungcheol broke the comfortable silence with a more serious tone. “I’ve been thinking. How about we plan a short getaway? A change of scenery might help us both recharge and take a break from everything.”

You looked up from your coffee, intrigued by the idea. “That sounds like a great idea. Where were you thinking of going?”

Seungcheol grinned. “I was thinking of a cozy cabin in the mountains. Somewhere we can disconnect from the world and just focus on each other.”

The thought of escaping to a peaceful retreat was exactly what you needed. “That sounds perfect. When do we leave?”

Seungcheol’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “How about this weekend? I’ll handle all the arrangements, and we can just enjoy ourselves.”

As the weekend approached, Seungcheol was a whirlwind of activity, packing and preparing everything for the trip. You could see the effort he was putting into making it a special experience, and it lifted your spirits to see him so engaged in creating a positive environment for both of you.

When the day of the trip arrived, you both set off for the mountains. The drive was filled with laughter and light conversation, a refreshing change from the tension of recent days. As you arrived at the cabin, its charm and tranquility immediately began to work their magic.

The cabin was nestled in a picturesque spot, surrounded by towering pine trees and overlooking a serene lake. The interior was cozy and inviting, with a crackling fireplace and large windows that framed the stunning views outside.

Seungcheol unpacked with enthusiasm, making sure everything was perfect for your stay. Once everything was set, you both decided to take a walk around the property, breathing in the fresh, crisp air and enjoying the peaceful surroundings.

As you walked hand-in-hand along a winding trail, Seungcheol turned to you with a smile. “This place is amazing, isn’t it? I’m really glad we came.”

You nodded, feeling the stress of the past weeks start to melt away. “It really is. Thank you for making this happen. It’s exactly what I needed.”

Seungcheol squeezed your hand gently. “I just wanted to remind you that no matter what happens, we have each other. And we can always find moments like this to escape and recharge.”

That evening, as you both sat by the fire, enjoying a simple, homemade dinner, you felt a deep sense of contentment. The challenges you had faced were still there, but they seemed distant now, overshadowed by the warmth and support you shared with Seungcheol.

As the fire crackled and the night grew quieter, Seungcheol pulled you closer, his arm around you. “We’ll face whatever comes our way, but right now, let’s just enjoy this moment. Together.”

You leaned into him, feeling the comfort of his presence. “I couldn’t ask for anything more. Thank you for everything.”

With the peaceful backdrop of the mountains and the love you shared, the getaway became a cherished escape, reminding both of you of the strength and solace you found in each other.

……………………………………………………………………………….

authors note - hello! I just wanted to write a simple and short story of Seungcheol since I have neglecting my other pieces 🫶 thank you!!

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #scoups x reader #scoups #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #seungcheol fluff #seventeen fluff #svt x y/n #svt fluff #svt #svt scoups #scoups x y/n #svt imagines

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tsumuus · 2 months

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Years had passed since UA High, where heroes were forged and futures decided. Bakugo Katsuki had emerged as one of Japan's top pro heroes, his fiery determination and explosive quirk propelling him to success. Meanwhile, you had carved your own path, Denki Kaminari's twin sister, without a quirk but with a sharp mind for business. Fate, it seemed, had intertwined your lives once more when you became Bakugo's PR manager.

In the bustling heart of the city, Bakugo's agency was a beacon of heroism. You navigated through the chaos of press releases and public appearances, your days filled with strategic meetings and late-night brainstorming sessions. Bakugo, ever the hero of action, relied on your expertise to shape his public image, to smooth the rough edges without dulling his fierce persona.

From the beginning, there was an unspoken tension- a current of something unsaid between you and Bakugo. You knew him from UA, where your brother and Bakugo had been classmates. Back then, you admired his unwavering determination from afar, a quiet observer in the background of heroics. Now, in the present, the dynamics had shifted but the unspoken remained.

Bakugo's office was a reflection of his persona- bold, unyielding, with trophies and accolades adorning the walls. On evenings when the city lights painted the skyline in hues of orange and gold, you found yourself poring over strategy documents with him, discussing the next big campaign or handling the fallout of a recent skirmish.

He was intense, passionate about his work, his heroism, and his agency- but there were moments when you glimpsed another side of him. A rare smile when a child asked for an autograph, a fleeting softness in his eyes when he spoke about training the next generation of heroes.

Yet, beneath the surface, Bakugo struggled with words that didn't involve battle plans or heroics. And you, with your own hidden admiration for the hero who dared to dream bigger than anyone else, navigated the delicate balance of professionalism and unspoken feelings.

One crisp autumn evening, after a particularly grueling day of interviews and photo shoots, you found yourselves on the rooftop of the agency building. The city sprawled beneath you, a tapestry of lights and life stretching into the horizon.

"You're doing good work," Bakugo said suddenly, his voice softer than usual, eyes fixed on the cityscape.

You smiled, a small, genuine curve of your lips. "It's what you hired me for."

He glanced at you then, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. "Yeah, but..."

The words hung between you, heavy with meaning that neither dared to voice aloud. There were boundaries, unspoken rules that governed your professional relationship, and yet the heart was seldom obedient to reason.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and the unspoken grew louder in the silence of shared moments. Bakugo's gestures were subtle- a coffee brought to your desk when he knew you were burning the midnight oil, a spare jacket offered on a chilly evening when the wind whispered through the city streets.

One night, as you watched him train in the agency gym- an inferno of determination and raw power- you realized how deeply intertwined your lives had become. The hero, the same boy she once admired from afar, and his PR manager, navigating the uncharted waters of unspoken words and silent glances.

In the quiet of your own thoughts, you wondered if he saw beyond the professional facade you wore, if he sensed the echoes of admiration and unspoken longing that mirrored his own.

But for now, beneath the city lights and the weight of unspoken words, you continued to navigate the complexities of heroism and heart, finding solace in the silent understanding that bound you together.

a/n my first writing for mha so be nice. i wanna get around to writing for more series in addition to haikyuu, so if you'd like to send in some requests about what you'd like me to write i'd be more than happy to because im lowk running outta ideas🫠

masterlist

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acoraxia · 10 months

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What are your thoughts on shadowpeach?

Fandom wise? I do not care for it.

Canon wise? I believe in men committing crimes while forming the most toxic, unhealthy attachments to one person could lead to such a dysfunctional relationship that it, eventually, turns into a functional one. And also they’re trans and aspec.

Disclaimer: this is all my opinion and people can do whatever they want, i simply have my gripes with some of the fandom stuff. this is just me explaining what i like and dislike about shadowpeach.

I think the most common thing people fall into when it comes to ships—or shipping in general—is how to domesticate these two characters without fully addressing their flaws, personalities, behavior, and their overall choices throughout the original media/show they come from.

Macaque and SWK both suffer equally through this mischaracterization: Macaque is often painted as this shy or “edgy” character with little to no ties to his actual character in canon and, more often than not, he is perceived as this “dad” type of character when, in fact, he should not be allowed near children for I fear he will bully them nonstop until they sit there in the corner feeling disheartened and miserable about themselves; Sun Wukong is often portrayed as this dumb himbo with little-to-no means of understanding social cues, not understanding emotions in a way that’s very frustrating, and be this yearning, pining idiot who’s still longing for his childhood crush when he did not hesitate to punch this guy in the face multiple times throughout the show. So when they are paired up together it’s this weird mash of people believing Macaque is the better dad with more understanding of human behavior and Wukong is his dumb, doting husband who’s doing his best and cannot stand up for himself when confronted about things.

The amount of times people choose to make Macaque sympathetic by having Sun Wukong’s family side with Macaque when it comes to Wukong’s actions/choices is so vast I could not count them all on one hand. The common trope of having Princess Iron Fan (Sun Wukong’s sister-in-law) become Macaque’s sworn sister is so disheartening to see for someone who read through Journey To The West and thought of how silly the overall family dynamic of the Demon Bull Family and Sun Wukong’s troops was. Removing Iron Fan as Sun Wukong’s literal sister just to have someone backup Macaque and sympathize with him is funny and a bit silly.

That being said… the canon version of Shadowpeach and its possibilities are, in fact, very delicious.

Canon wise this is what we know about Sun Wukong and Macaque’s history together:

Sun Wukong and Macaque meet

The brotherhood is formed after Azure meets Sun Wukong, Macaque tags along with Wukong (note: Macaque is not addressed as “brother” by the characters, only Wukong is)

Macaque tries to warn Wukong about how dealing with Heaven might be a bad idea

They share a peach under a tree; Wukong reassures Macaque this plan will work

Wukong carries on with Azure’s plan anyway (yes, azure lion’s plan, not wukong’s)

The brotherhood is defeated and Wukong gets trapped under a mountain

Presumably no one comes to visit Wukong, only Macaque

During his final visit, Wukong is angry that Macaque is free and can’t see the fact that Wukong was trying to do everything for them and his kingdom

Macaque snaps back at Wukong and calls him an obsessive demon before leaving

They have another fallout and fight

Wukong ends up killing Macaque in the aftermath

500~ years later, Macaque and Wukong fight again with Wukong being more apathetic towards their reunion than Macaque is

Macaque obsesses over Wukong continuously (coughs)

Macaque is biased in his retellings of his and Wukong’s relationship (see: all of shadowplay and the scrolls memories)

They fight (again) throughout S3

They somewhat reconcile by the end of S4

We will address the fact Sun Wukong was groomed into going to war by this former celestial warrior instead of having it be because of his own want to protect his family and friends after Heaven refused to pay him the respect he wanted when he first joined their ranks later. Right now we focus on the fact that Sun Wukong is canonically a person people easily fall in love with (platonically) and have a tendency to want to stay close to regardless of what his future actions will be like and Macaque is sequentially obsessed with him throughout the show.

“The hero and the warrior were like the Sun and the Moon. Their light, a protective glow, shining upon the world. Together, there was nothing that could stop the two of them. Either in the Celestial Realms or on Earth. As time went on, the hero attained power beyond comprehension. As the hero's light grew, so too did his shadow. And soon, the warrior was cast in that shadow. In the darkness, the warrior was forgotten by the hero.”

Fun fact: Macaque is never going to be on par with Sun Wukong’s power and he works best as support than he does a duo-attacker along side Wukong. Wukong is on his own power level and Macaque, while being able of holding his own against enemies, could be stomped to death by Xiaoijiao is he crossed the line.

Macaque’s obsession with Sun Wukong comes from the inability to move on from the past; Macaque wanting things to go back as they were is a subtle theme going through the show — he keeps latching on to biased memories and avoiding the actual problems that caused their relationship to fall apart and it isn’t until Season 3’s big confrontation with Long Xiaojiao’s Samadhi Fire ritual. He realizes he abandoned Wukong during a time of need and proceeds to flee, abandoning him again.

Macaque has issues. More often than not people call out on Sun Wukong for abandoning Xiaotian or the Monkie Kid Crew all while ignoring the fact Sun Wukong does not purposefully leave Qi Xiaotian, he tries his hardest to make it back in time and is visibly scared/horrified when LBD attacks in his absence. Sun Wukong tries his hardest to comfort Xiaotian while Macaque tries to torment him.

Regardless, Sun Wukong and Macaque’s relationship is unique to most media’s portrayal of friends turned enemies. Because Wukong does not see Macaque as a threat up until he teams up with Lady Bone Demon — he is only scary by association, not by anything he has done up until that point. You can tell with the way Wukong mocks him and calls him something akin to a puppet during their interaction in Season 3 when Macaque trapped him and Nezha in the ice.

And even then Macaque doesn’t even bother trying to engage with Wukong in a friendly manner because kindness is for losers HA i’m not apologizing for anything, bye Sun Wukong, you big old LOSER [proceeds to possibly live on the streets and stay homeless until wukong allows him to return to ffm under certain house rules]

You’ll notice that Sun Wukong barely has any opinions on Macaque.

This is because Macaque is favored by the narrative more than Sun Wukong is so we have very little context as to how Sun Wukong genuinely feels towards Macaque.

Sun Wukong sees Macaque as an annoyance, a bother, a threat, a coward, an imposter and then, finally, an ally.

But all we get from that is Wukong handing Macaque a peach-flavored ice cream pop as a parallel to him sharing a peach with his old friend back when they were young monkeys before he was trapped under a mountain for 500 years as a result of his abuser’s power hold on him that forced him to fight heaven as a way to “make the world a better place”.

We love to see it.

Macaque and Wukong’s relationship goes from mutual interest and a supportive friendship established years prior to the original building of the brotherhood to a very weird, uncategorized type of dynamic. The only way to characterize Sun Wukong’s “affection” towards Macaque is, possibly, the same way most people would characterize Macaque to be towards Wukong. Y’know the slightly judgmental actions and eye rolls and scoffs of affection most people write about Macaque when Wukong does something stupid? Yeah.

“But Macaque said “this guy” when Wukong was presenting his plan to defeat Azure—“ yeah have you considered Wukong does a lot of masking in the presence of the entire Monkie Kid Crew and Macaque has a tendency to present himself as this cool persona when in fact he’s just a homeless monkey who’s been crashing on his ex’s couch for the past weeks since the ending of Season 3?

“OK…. but why QPR Shadowpeach?”

Sun Wukong throughout the course of Journey to the West and all its past and future iterations have always had him be uninterested in both men and women. There are multiple instances where he’s capable of courting women and he instead backs away or does not pay it any mind; aside from this he’s heavily implied to only care about familial love and friendships. He does not see his pilgrim brothers as anything more than family and he views Tripitaka as a mentor rather than someone whom he was chained to. And Azure was his idol and he was groomed by him, and everyone else was viewed to him as a troop — or, y’know, a family.

This and the fact that— both Sun Wukong and Macaque are over a thousand years old. Why on earth would they have a normal type of relationship? Giving them a checklist of what passes on as romantic and platonic when to them the line is so blurred it’s barely existent to them is amusing.

Sun Wukong and Macaque having their own weird relationship where it changes from frustrated best friends to partners to angry middle aged demons to the tired traumatized immortals who sometimes cuddle while still beating each other up is so deliciously interesting and unhealthy to the point where it is healthy.

Also Celestial bodies are not the same as mortal bodies; canonically Sun Wukong has transformed into women before and people have addressed him with female-leaning pronouns before. my personal headcanon of sun wukong being genderfluid lves on and now we can have sapphic shadowpeach with transfem macaque.

also im still feverish so if this doesnt make sense then too bad damn im sorry

#analysis #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #six eared macaque #lmk six eared macaque #lmk sun wukong #sun wukong #shadowpeach #qpr shadowpeach #ok im tired #goodbye forever now im going to get a haircut #and then maybe go to the movies ig #lmao

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brucewaynehater101 · 4 months

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I'm not done torturing Timothy

Kid dies of overwork in the middle of his work hours as CEO of Wayne Enterprises

All the bats are busy everywhere else and while they are the first to know Tim was confirmed dead, said death was too public and it rapidly spreads all over Gotham, the internet and maybe spheres outside of them that the teen CEO is dead before he even turned 18

Questions at W.E. but the Waynes especially are being asked, and people want answers.

All anybody—to Gotham as a whole, to Young Justice, to the Justice League, and anyone else—can do now is live with the fallout of Tim's and Red Robin's death, and go from their

Inspired by those fics and AUs where Tim sacrifices his time, sleep, energy, sanity, happiness mental health & physical health, and general well-being for the Bats

Is fandom or canon ever really done with torturing Tim?

And great AU! Let's beef it up.

I couldn't find a definitive answer for how long it takes before someone dies due to overworking. The consensus is that 54 or more hours a week is considered over-working. One article said they studied what health conditions people received over a ten-year study.

So, let's start Tim off early.

In this AU, he skipped grades. So, even though he was intelligent enough to do so, this had a few effects.

The effects include poor socialization (and chances to be a kid/de-stress with peers), increased workload (more homework/more mental energy required in comparison to those his age), and he needed to study harder than his classmates to ensure he was keeping up.

His workload increased when he became Robin.

He was worried about Bruce, and his Robin activities/responsibilities took a lot of time. School is already usually around 35 hours, not including homework. In this AU, his parents also enrolled him in honors classes with the expectation that he maintains decent grades. Add on that his Robin needed to ensure Batman wasn't violent every night Batman went out? He was patrolling at least 5 nights a week.

The subsequent losses and grief were overwhelming and stressful

Not much needs to be said about this other than just another aspect added onto Tim's shoulders

Bruce dies

That's another loss, there's all of the stress with the Battle of the Cowl/losing Robin, he works without breaks or supports to find Bruce, and he assumes some control of WE. His missing spleen also lowers his immune system (which was already jeopardized by his stress and the permanent consequences of the Clench).

Tim continues to work as CEO in this AU while managing the Bats, Waynes, various hero society issues, and patrol ad Red Robin.

No wonder he collapses. I think the even more increase in work combined with his strenuous relationships with everyone (YJ is still trying to navigate Kon and Bart coming back to life with Tim and Cassie's fight) causes Tim to pile more and more onto his shoulders until he dies.

So, with all of these added together, Tim can die pretty quickly after obtaining the CEO position. I like to think that a combination of being sick, having an infection, lack of sleep, and stress took him out.

I hope Bruce burns to death in this one for not noticing, putting more pressure on Tim's shoulders, and being an ass :)

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #thank you for the ask!!!!#dc au #you can add more of tim's canon events to give him more stress while taking out his support systems

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darkstarofchaos · 3 months

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Hello! Another person who is incredibly frustrated with redeemed Megatron.

Me and my friends have all voiced the exact same problems and that main being that we don't ever get the before him like at all. Hints here and there but for the most part NO ONE outside of the bad guys has any bad blood towards him.

I understand not every kid show needs to be these deep emotional epics but at the same time it's still weird to me that the Autobots, who have lost countless family and friends thanks specifically to the actions of Megatron and his followers, show no sort of lingering resentment. After all, the amount of time between the war ended and the beginning of the show would be like a few hours for beings that live for millions of years.

Having the Terrans would be a great excuse to have the devil's advocate angle when other Autobots still don't feel comfortable around him. I said the same thing in my own Starscream post too about how sometimes people can't change because those around them refuse to let them.

Megatron should've felt alienated from both sides and by him not falling back into old habits and committing to staying good would've actually proved that his redemption was warranted.

I'm not asking for it to take over the show, but these little background moments. Hell, Bumblebee's attitude would've been a little bit more tolerable if you were it was coming from a place of feeling slighted pissed that the cybertronian who more or less ruined his "childhood" (I've accepted that headcanon that any given Bumblebee is basically a former child soldier) is just walking free side to side with his mentor.

The sad thing is that the first couple episodes kinda show some hints of that? Like when Optimus gives his "Roll out" bit and Megatron tells Dot he's never sure if he means him, or Bumblebee being kinda wary when he tries to call Optimus and gets Megatron (also, Megatron's matter-of-fact recounting of how he kept his soldiers in line). It wasn't enough on its own, but they could have continued the trend to show most bots are wary of him at best, or even implied that the reason some Autobots don't show up much is because they don't want to be around him. It wouldn't have taken many changes to show Megatron as fairly isolated, with maybe one or two relationships that kept him from backsliding into his old ways (his friendship with Dot works better for me because 15 years is a long time for a human, and we know he saved her life at least once).

Honestly, I was ambivalent about his "redemption" in season 1? After Jawbreaker asked him about his altmode and it turned out all he had to do to get Optimus' trust was scan an Earth alt, I pretty much gave up on getting any meaningful backstory for him, so I was resigned to him just being Generic Ex-Decepticon (and then What Dwells Within happened and he finally felt like a Megatron trying to do better to me. Not just in his interactions with Starscream, but when he interacted with Optimus and Croft too: angry, wanting to do things his way, trying to do better but slipping into old habits. If he'd been more like that throughout the show, paired with the Autobots responding appropriately to him, I would have enjoyed his character a lot more).

And then Season 2 happened. And we went the "Starscream is worse than his abuser, actually" route. And now I'm like... This is everything I do not want from a Megatron redemption. The only thing I want from a Megatron redemption is for him to face what he did to the people closest to him. Every single Megatron redemption sees him running off somewhere and leaving the Decepticons to deal with the fallout of his war, and he never has to face the people he personally hurt. And when it comes to Starscream, it's almost treated like a good thing that he hurt him, because when Megatron isn't there to "keep him in check", he's worse than Megatron ever was. And then people roll their eyes and say "Starscream is always power hungry and evil, what do you expect?" while Armada Starscream is right there, and EarthSpark Starscream in Season 1 was a hell of a lot closer to Armada than to Cyberverse.

On his own, EarthSpark Megatron was boring and a waste of potential, but not especially offensive. Paired with Starscream, and specifically Starscream as he appeared in the final episode of the latest batch, he is possibly my least favorite part of EarthSpark right now. Not as a character, but as a concept. I like Megatron, but I have no use for a redeemed Megatron who still has to believe that he's better than Starscream, and be supported in that belief by the narrative. The early scene in S2 when Megatron tells Starscream to let the war end could have been a really good character moment, because we would see that there are still things he doesn't regret, and that he truly sees himself as better than Starscream (who isn't even the one to blame for the war's continuation - I firmly believe that, since the Decepticons were the ones being hunted and locked up, it falls to Megatron and the Autobots to prove that things can be different now. And if the war is continuing, it's almost certainly because Megatron and/or the Autobots fucked up).

But instead we get, "Yeah, Megatron thinks he's a better person than Starscream. And you know what? He's right." I am so done with the abuse apologetics.

#transformers #Transformers EarthSpark #EarthSpark spoilers #(slightly)#Megatron #Starscream #Apologies for getting sidetracked halfway through #I have strong feelings about 'the victim deserved it' narratives #Mostly 'kill it with fire' feelings

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 6 months

Text

Will Halstead: Insecurity

Trigger Warning: Mentions of body issues. Minimal NSFW content

Emotional healing isn’t linear. It is strange how one simple unintentional sentence can bring back so much insecurity. Issues that you were certain you had worked through back again to raise their ugly head. You hadn’t thought about your body insecurity in years. Will Halstead had been your boyfriend for over a year, and he had never once made you feel anything but desirable. The man was a giver, and your body was always well-loved and worked by the time he was finished with you.

It had been early morning. You were naked still wrapped in cooling sheets after a night of lovemaking. Will climbed over top of you in his running gear kissing your lips in a farewell kiss. You had grabbed him, nuzzling into his neck, trying to get him to stay and curl back in bed with you. He had chuckled good naturally, “You could always come for a run with me, get your cardio in a different way.” His tone was natural and teasing as he pressed one more lingering kiss to your lips. It didn’t stop the almost unrecognizable tightening of your skin as if it had shrunk a size and was now suffocating you. He missed your awkward shifting as you pulled the blankets higher now feeling strangely exposed to a man who had loved every inch of your skin just a few hours prior.

He had smiled at you warmly, unaware of the havoc his words would cause. He made no mention of your body, or that you need to change any part of your body. It didn’t stop the old thoughts from running ramped. What had he really meant? Was it a hint that he wanted you to start watching your weight? Did he have some unspoken reservations about your body, the extra pounds that you had undoubtedly put on since the two of you had gotten together?

Reason had left the building along with Will for his morning run. The more you roominated the wilder your thoughts got and the more they spiraled. Had Will felt like this for longer than you had realized and just too polite to say anything? It might have been a plausible thought had he ever given any other real indication that he felt that way.

He hadn’t.

You know every girl has had issues with their body at some point in their life. Yours weren’t notably bad. Honestly, they were probably more common than not. By the time that Will had come back, you had locked it down hard.

Unfortunately, that didn’t mean that you didn’t reap the fallout. You fell back into bad habits. When you had previously had issues with your body you had simply and excessively covered yourself in baggy oversized clothes, not allowing others to be able to see you. An easy feat when you were single in high school or college; it was an almost unnoticeable change, especially during the bitter cold winters. It was however much harder, nearly impossible when you were in a long-term relationship and living with your partner.

Will had come home flushed and sweaty and all kinds of your perfect delectable. You would normally jump at the chance to join him in the shower. Instead, you pull the blanket tighter around you and settle deeper into the couch. Will takes the dismissal of joining him in stride and curls up on the couch with you damp and warm from his shower to marathon TV on a lazy Sunday off.

The next two weeks you continue feeling uncomfortable in your skin. It isn’t encompassing but it is lingering. It’s baggy clothes and avoiding mirrors. You also haven’t had sex in that time. It was practically unheard of for you and Will to go that long without not that he hadn’t tried to initiate it. Your redirects and refusals were taken with grace and no fuss. He was a gentleman about it, but you knew that he was getting concerned by the abrupt change when he was used to you constantly trying to climb him like a tree.

It comes to a head that weekend. Will had got home from a late shift and you were half asleep in one of his shirts and nothing else. His scent had lingered on it. A mix of his cologne and natural musk. It was the best cure for a sleepless night and empty bed that you had found. His smile was tired but genuine. You could tell that he had a good day at work. He had pulled you onto his lap and kissed you deeply and slowly.

You had returned the kiss sleepily and with fever. You felt him hard in his pants as you started to unconsciously rock against him. Your fingers tangle in his curls as he starts to plant kisses on your jaw and down your neck to your collarbone. His hands find your waist as he pulls you firmer against him his clothed length pressing against your wet core. Arousal alights through your body, your mind blissfully blank. It’s not until his dexterous fingers start undoing the top two buttons that the uncomfortable twinge of body insecurity returns.

You tried to ignore it. Just enjoy the sensations that Will was providing you. The scrape of the stubble of his beard on your breasts as he gets enough buttons open to latch onto a nipple into his hot mouth and circle it with a tongue. It sends white-hot pleasure down to your core, but it isn’t enough to turn off your brain like you had hoped. His fingers went for another button, and you stopped him. “Uh, I want to leave it on.” You try to pull it off as a sexy thing, but you know he doesn’t buy it. His expression held concern and his gaze was searching.

“Yeah, okay sweetheart.” He leans in for another kiss, but you are distracted now. Even with his passionate hot open mouth kisses and talented fingers, you can’t focus on him. Your body had cooled, and your mind was wandering in directions that made you feel unattractive and doused your sex drive. Will was an observant man and caught onto your lack of interest quickly. His hand that was weaved into your hair tugged gently pulling you back so he could look at you. His brown eyes warm and resigned, “If you're not in the mood to do anything, we don’t have to. You know that, right?” His other hand came up to stroke your cheek.

“I know, it's not that.” You sigh and groan leaning forward to rest your forehead against his chin the scruff of his beard catching and pulling at your hair. You didn’t know what else to say about it.

“Talk to me baby,” He eased you back again pressing his forehead against yours, “Something is going on with you and it has been for a while.” You shift back on his lap and run your hands down his arms, feeling the muscles under your fingertips. “Did I do something or-?”

“No,” You object and press your hands against his chest, “I’m just having some... body issues right now.” You would never tell him his words were what caused the start of the spiral. They hadn’t been really; your brain had been twisting and turning them until they were altered from an innocent offer to a disgusting beast ravaging your head. You see the change in his brown eyes and cover his mouth with your hand before he can utter a word. “Don’t you dare go into Doctor Halstead mode on me. I don’t need to know the statistics, how common this is, or your medical opinion right now.” There was a silent pause in which his brown eyes were calculating. You saw the mischievous glint only seconds before he flipped you around underneath him. “Will,” You breathe in surprise.

“Shh, shh, shh,” He hushes you, returning to kiss your throat. “If you don’t want to hear a doctor’s opinion, you’re stuck hearing your boyfriends. And baby,” He gets the last three buttons of your shirt undone, “I have a lot to say about your gorgeous body.” He starts kissing his way down your chest towards your stomach. “Because all of this belongs to me. It will get the respect, love, and attention it deserves.” Will spends his time kissing affirmations into your skin. The tightness of your skin subsides with his touch and your body flushes pink with the praise. He teases you leaving a trail of beard burn from your shoulders to your ankles. Your body insecurity isn't gone but Will had effectively silenced it for the night.

My first Chicago Med story and I had to try my hand at Will. Hope you guys enjoyed xoxo <3

#chicago med #will halstead #will halstead x reader #will halstead imagine #will halstead x you

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tragedybunny · 6 months

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To Make You Feel My Love - Chapter 1 of 3

༺Summary༻

Astarion and Serafina continue to pursue their relationship as the confrontation with Cazador looms, and then during the fallout afterward. A couple of chapters that explore their deepening bond and their struggle to build "something real".

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav/OC)

༺Warnings༻ Angst, Hurt / Comfort, Attempted Sex

༺Word Count༻ 2776

༺A/N༻ Another fic featuring my Tav as a name character! Very excited to share more of Serafina. Thanks to my lovely friend @icybluepenguin for the beta and support!

Read on AO3

Astarion was a wretch, and he knew it. He was finicky, selfish, obnoxious, and difficult. But he also knew so much of that was because of life under Cazador. It was who he was outside of that life that he didn't know. He wasn't sure how to find out, either, or how much he wanted to.

He’d expected it to be asked of him though, that eventually he should find a way to make himself more palatable. Serafina never did though. Sometimes it stuck in his throat like bile how kind she was to him. She never asked anything of him, only gave and gave, while he took and took, with gentle words and warm smiles until sometimes he worried there would be nothing left of her.

It drove him mad, for several reasons. First, he was convinced that one day that fount of affection and understanding would run dry. She couldn’t love him as he was forever. Then there was the sensation that he somehow needed to repay it, even if it was never asked of him. Maybe it would balance the scales, maybe it would keep her from tiring of him. No matter what she claimed, she must expect something of him. Finally, and most strangely for him, he wanted to repay it. Didn’t she deserve it, after everything? And she most assuredly needed it.

Despite her protests that everything was always fine and that she didn’t need anything extra, he knew different. It was ridiculous. He’d seen her going through days with tired eyes, giving smiles that only lasted as long as they needed to, and the way her shoulders would slump when things would upset her, but she wouldn’t say anything.

Like earlier today, when he’d opened his mouth and ruined everything again.

Flowers. That’s how it had all started. They’d passed through a garden in full bloom, and words had tumbled out of him before he could think.

“Bright and gaudy.”Inane prattle, complaining about something that had no effect on him simply because he could. He just had to lash out at something.

Cazador was looming over him, the plan already in place to take the fight to him sooner rather than later. His siblings' surprise visit the night before had spurred that decision. Fear gnawed its way into his mind, biting and clawing, ripping away the fragile sense of safety and comfort he'd built.

That didn't change the fact that when Karlach's elbow had collided with his ribs, he'd looked over to see Sera's shoulders drooping and her mood soured. How could he forget about one of the few things she’d let slip about her home. She couldn't reveal much about her past thanks to that pesky warlock pact, but there had been a garden of some sort. And he'd managed to shit on what she had. He was already terrified and he felt himself spiraling back into the thought that he didn’t know why she bothered with him.

“What should I do?” he whispered desperately to Karlach.

She shrugged. “I don’t know, buy her flowers or something?”

Which is how he’d ended up here. Everyone had made their way back to the Elfsong but Astarion had excused himself with a hasty lie about needing to think. Sera’s brow had crinkled in concern for him and he felt a twinge of guilt when he pulled her close and gave her a quick kiss. He’d make it up later, or he planned to anyway.

But now he was stuck, wandering around this shop that was an overwhelming riot of color and scents. Something about cut flowers didn't seem to fit, and he'd been paralyzed in front of the rows and rows of them for minutes. They looked nice enough, but they wouldn't last. His gaze wandered to the other side of the shop through the crowd. Maybe a potted plant…?

“Can I help you?” A bubbly elf with blonde hair and tan skin appeared beside him.

Her gold eyes looked up at him with such sincerity, he almost sneered. As if this shop contained some life changing secrets and not flowers.

“I…” He cleared his throat- he was not lost, just thinking. “I’m looking for something for my partner. Something that will last longer than flowers in a vase.” There, that wasn’t so bad, he could do this.

“Of course, let me show you our selection of potted plants,” she said, gesturing enthusiastically. “Can you tell me a bit about them?”

“She, well, she… ” Why was this so hard? He felt so much for her, but speaking of her made him feel awkward and inadequate. She was the first warm light of morning washing over him and a comforting touch in the night. She was a hasty kiss after a hard won fight, and lighthearted laughter around the campfire. “She’s…”

“Newer relationship?” the elf said with a light giggle that made him want to reach for a dagger. The insinuation that he knew nothing about Sera was clear.

“What does it matter anyway,” he hissed, drawing looks from the other patrons.

The girl was thrown off balance by his sudden aggression and her gleaming smile faltered. “It might help to pick out something she’d like, but you’re free to browse for a while.” Turning away, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving him to fend for himself.

He almost went after her, but stubborn pride rooted him to the spot. With resolve, he eyed the shelves in front of him. Rows of bright-colored, glazed pots gleamed in the sunlight streaming in from the large shop window. Inside each one, a scrap of greenery he knew nothing about. Many had small blooms, some sported colorful leaves, and none of them were the right thing.

He began to sink into despair. This whole thing had been a stupid, impetuous idea. “Buy her flowers.” Apparently he couldn't even figure out the most basic of gifts for her. He'd just head back to the Elfsong, empty-handed, another day the scales between them were left uneven. If he just left now, it would be less time wasted.

Just as he turned to go, it caught his eye. A delicate plant in a pot glazed in the colors of twilight, with a few small, blue blossoms. He stepped closer, drawn to it. The rich blue was the same color as Sera's eyes, he was sure of it. But it was tiny, like it would hardly survive the trip across town if the wind picked up.

“Find something?” The irritating clerk was back, somehow having snuck up on him.

“That one,” he pointed.

“Oh, the little forget-me-not!”

Astarion cringed at the name as she reached for it.

“Do you know the origin of it?”

Of course not. It was a flower and before now, he wasn't exactly able to frolic in the sun and enjoy them. And it wasn’t like they were part of Cazador’s decor scheme.

“No,” he said through gritted teeth, sure he was about to hear it. He should have just stolen it.

“Humans didn’t come into being until long after elves. During those times, elves only coupled with one another, only knew lovers that would live as long as they did. But, eventually, an elven man met a human woman, and they fell deeply in love. The elf stayed by her side, even as she grew old and died, having only lived a fraction of his life. He buried her in winter and when he returned to her grave in the spring, he found these beautiful blue flowers had grown up over it. They were nothing like anything that anyone had ever seen before. They spread from her grave throughout the land, so that wherever he went, he was reminded of her. In that way, they earned the name forget-me-not. What a beautiful tragedy- a love so true, but one will live without the other for so long.” She sighed dreamily after she finished.

Astarion swallowed the lump in his throat. “Right, well, that's lovely and all, but I have somewhere to be.”

The elf huffed and silently led him back to the counter. He'd pay double if it meant she'd let him go without more chatter.

“Oh, one more thing,” she said, taking his money, “this can be planted outdoors. Perhaps if you and your lady love have a place of your own someday.”

Those words swirled around and around in Astarion’s mind as he gingerly carried the little plant back through the streets to the Elfsong. “A place of their own.” As if that was something he could even begin to aspire to. But why not? Why couldn’t he and Sera have a home of their own, and a happy, beautiful life? Because that wasn’t him. Who would want a vampire for a neighbor? And why would she want a lifetime with one?

He took a deep breath and tried to silence those thoughts. Sera loved him. He knew that was true, even when it was hard to remember. He just had to keep it that way. His eyes glanced down to the plant nestled in his hands. It seemed a silly gesture in that light, a plant in exchange for her love. The whole thing was a bad idea.

He should have done better.

When he finally made it back, the rest of the group was eating dinner in the raucous common room of the inn. He’d never admit it, but sometimes he missed the quiet nights under the stars. For two hundred years, he’d known this type of hustle and bustle; its opposite had grown on him. Not to mention, it had given the two of them so many calm nights to get to know each other. A thought that caused his chest to tighten; he’d thrown so many of those nights away with his “perfect plan”, time he’d never get back.

Cutting through the fringes of the room, he avoided the group, not wanting a public display of what was likely the most ridiculous gift he could have thought of. Natural stealth let him blend into the crowd and slink his way to the stairs. Bad luck put Jahiera right in front of him.

“Bat pup, what are you up to, creeping around like this?” From her tone, Jahiera was only really half suspicious.

“I…” He glanced down at the plant his hands were protectively wrapped around.

Jahiera’s gaze followed his. “I never took you as one for greenery, Astarion.”

“It’s not for me, ” he blurted, cringing inwardly. What if she told someone? All of them? Would they get a laugh out of the vampire trying to play the lover?

She lifted an eyebrow and smiled a small, knowing smile. “I see. Should I let her know you’re waiting upstairs?”

For some reason lately, Jaheira had started to behave with the infuriating air of someone older, and wiser around him, despite the fact that he had years on her. It was almost maternal in a way, and usually grated on him to no end. But today, he was quietly relieved to have her step in.

“If you must interject yourself.” He shrugged, struggling to put the mask of calm indifference back on.

“I think I will let the attitude slide for tonight, Astarion. Mayhaps tomorrow I will box your ears for it.”

He opened his mouth to snap back at her but she cut him off.

“And I’ll expect a thank-you when it’s all said and done.”

“Yes, Mother,” he sighed dramatically and began to walk away.

As soon as he was sure he was out of sight, he hurried his pace, not wanting to be caught out in the hallway when Sera came upstairs. With the door to the common room shut behind him, he took up position in their shared corner. Two beds and a folding screen, the most privacy they could manage right now. Another reason to miss the outdoors. Even if sleeping on the ground had been hellishly uncomfortable, the tent had walls at least.

It always struck him to see Sera’s things mixed in with his. A physical reminder that she had chosen this, him, even after his confession. And it gave him hope that she would keep choosing that way.

“Astarion, you wanted to see me?” Her voice interrupted his thoughts from across the room.

“Yes, darling, sorry to disturb your evening.” Perfect, just keep going, don’t screw this up.

The distance between them evaporated and she was standing right in front of him, waiting for him to continue. He kept his arms behind his back, keeping the plant hidden, still doubting it.

“I just wanted to apologize, for earlier today.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. You didn’t realize-”

“No,” he spat out more harshly than he intended and watched her eyes widen for a moment. Gods, why did he always lose his silver tongue where she was concerned. “Please don’t do that,” he softened his voice. “You’re always worried about my words when it comes to our companions, random strangers, and even my siblings. Don’t dismiss your own feelings so easily, hold me accountable for them, like anyone else’s.” Don’t make yourself tired of me, he added silently.

“With everything going on, I just didn’t want to make things harder for you. But, thank you.”

“See, that’s better, isn’t it?” He smiled, recovery made, things were going well.

“So, what’s behind your back?” She craned her neck, trying to peek around him playfully.

No avoiding it now. “I wanted to get you something to make up for it. It seems a bit foolish really.” Hesitantly, he presented the little plant to her.

She took it from his hands with reverence. “Forget-me-nots,” she beamed at the small flowers that matched the color of her eyes. “They’re beautiful. Thank you, Astarion, I love it.”

A small, awkward laugh escaped him. “Well, that’s quite a relief.”

And then she was moving, placing the plant on the table near their bed, before practically lunging at Astarion. The sudden force of her embrace knocked him from his feet and they collapsed back onto the mattress in a heap.

“Sorry,” Sera said through a soft laugh before kissing him. “You're wonderful, you know that?”

“I mean, I do, but I could stand to hear it more.”

“How about I show you instead?” She leaned in, kissing him again, lips parting tantalizingly.

He wanted to devour her, to pull her in tight and taste every bit of her. His tongue darted inside her mouth, eliciting a soft moan.

Ice ran up his spine, and he felt himself go rigid.

She pulled back and looked at him with concern. “Is it too much?”

The hells take his traitorous body. “No, I-I want to try. Please.” He bit back a growl of frustration. It killed him to want her this bad and to have the only thing stopping him be himself.

“Alright.”

She'd barely answered before he was pushing her back to the mattress by her shoulders and crawling between her legs.

He covered the exposed flesh of her neck with soft nips, fangs barely raking the skin. One hand found its way under her shirt, groping at her pebbled nipple.

Whimpering, her hips bucked against his, the sweetest pressure on his hardening cock. He groaned against her skin, both hands now pushing her shirt up, exploring her soft curves.

Head tilted to the side, she offered without words that delicious nectar he could never resist. Fangs burrowed into their favored spot and bliss filled his mouth.

Fingers tangled into his curls as he rutted against her. Her tongue lapped at the shell of his ear before she moaned his name. She was lost in him. Like a thousand others before her…

He froze, the world around him going hazy.

“Astarion,” she called to him softly.

“I can't,” he gasped, hot shame washing over him. Sera wasn't just another one of them, it shouldn't be like this. “I'm sorry.”

Gentle hands guided him to the mattress, arms enfolding him, so his head was buried in her neck. “Hush,” she kissed his forehead.

Neither said anything further about it, there wasn't need. He knew she didn't expect it of him, and she knew he had needed to try.

“Drink if you want,” she whispered, stroking his hair.

Gods, he loved her, even if he wasn't sure he'd ever told her properly how much. He bit back into the open wounds and drank lazily, eyes drifting to the bedside table and the little plant. Maybe there would be a someday with a place it could bloom outside, a place they both called home.

Tag list:

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yenqa · 1 year

Text

APPLE CIDER (bedroom sessions)

Sparkling apple cider. Once a sweet, refreshing drink you could easily enjoy. Now everytime you’re reminded of that cursed drink all you get is the sour memories that came with it. One memory including the fallout of yours and (now ex) boyfriend, Jay's relationship. But, it just so happens Jay is determined to win your heart back once again. Will he be able to restore the sweet taste? Or will apple cider ruin your life once again?

read part one here!

genre : exes to lovers, written fic, angst, fluff, dual pov (but more y/n, highschool au

featuring : enhypen, chaewon of lsfm, kwon eunbi, ocs : hyun-woo, mrs. lim

warnings : swearing (lots), ignorant parents (only mentioned), crying, food, parties, groveling??? idk, reader has the same bad habits, blood/injuries

wc : 7k

pairing : jay x fem!reader

YENQA : i worked really hard on this and im really happy with the outcome!! i hope you guys like it as much as i do :) also!! everyone thank @yeokii and @redm4ri for proof reading this!!

000 FIRST HEARTBREAK (prologue)

It was junior year when you first met him. Just last year (2022), Hyun-woo walked up to you in the library with a charming but sweet smile, he sat next to you and introduced himself. At first you were skeptical, unsure of your new friendship. But his stupid cute smile and his enchanting eyes lured you right in.

That night you had left with his number and a smile on your face.

The next few weeks he barely ever talked to you, sufficing with a small wave in the hallways or small talk about classwork. But when spring was just around the corner, that had immediately changed.

Hundreds of messages came through in the span of two months. You two would talk for hours and hours on end about anything really. His sweet smile would stay throughout all those facetimes, sometimes you wondered if his face would fall off if he smiled any longer.

After months of talking, you figured out you were hopelessly falling for him. And there was no way out. But you also figured he must’ve liked you back—I mean those hundreds of calls weren’t for nothing were they?

At first, they weren’t. He eventually asked you out in May and you dated happily for three months.

Since he was your first you didn’t know how a relationship should work, or how one should act in it. You thought him ghosting you for weeks on end was normal, and that everyone went through it. Even if it wasn’t normal, he came back to you, showering you in gifts such as stuffed animals and gold jewelry. So, you continued on with the relationship, knowing he would come back to you anyways.

But then, he didn’t come back. It was September and you hadn’t talked to him all August—to say the least you were confused. Where had he been all this time?

The first day of school you had immediately ran up to him, you remembered you had said, “What’s wrong? Why have you been ignoring me all last month?”

And he laughed.

He laughed straight at your worried expression.

And you want to cry.

It was all a bet, he said. One that involved completely playing with you to win some money.

You couldn’t cry in front of him, nor could you run away from him like a fucking loser (which you really wanted to do but you wouldn’t want to see the pleasure on his face). All you could do was say “Okay,” and walk away. That’s all you did—So hopefully to him you seemed unfazed. But that facade didn’t last long.

You almost tripped over things or even people on the way to the bathroom, sobbing your eyes out until they had wrung dry.

You were sad—Yes, but you were also frustrated by how stupid you were.

He didn’t even talk to you half the time, he barely even knew what you liked or disliked, he didn’t even pay attention to the kind of jewelry you wore—he bought a gold necklace for you as a loyal silver wearer, and overall you were just stupid. Stupid to fall for the role he put on.

Crying usually didn’t take long for you, usually an half an hour at most. But that day you had sobbed and sobbed in that stupid toilet stall for one hour and you didn’t feel like going back to class with your crusty eyes, so you accidentally skipped your first three periods.

You remember that day as vividly as possible. Your parents were furious that you skipped three classes—So angry they didn’t even look twice at the dark circles under your puffy eyes or the red tint that had covered your face.

One thing you knew was that you never told them, the only thing telling them would get you was a scolding because you skipped three classes over a boy. A boy who was your “first love”. And as stupid as it sounds, they wouldn’t understand. Honestly you wouldn’t be surprised if they told you that they thought your feelings were just little pranks you were playing on them.

If your parents thought that, everyone probably thought that. So, you put on a happy face for Chaewon, even if she knew you were sad she probably didn’t even care. I mean if Hyun-woo didn’t even like you, who would?

001 REALIZING THE OBVIOUS

Jay never thought he was stupid. Actually, he found much pride in how smart he was. He was always the kind of person to think before they say something. He was never impulsive—Well until he met you that is. But that didn’t really end well did it?

It made it even worse that nobody seemed to care. Sunoo didn’t even send a sad look his way (which by the way—Was totally deserved even if he did mess up).

“Why the long face, Jay? You lose another cute girl?” Jake teases, a grin appearing on his face.

“Who was it again? Hyun-woo’s ex-girlfriend?" Sunghoon's smile grows, “Finally played her?”

Jay groans, “Yeah, i did, but i messed up, bad.”

“What- did Hyun-woo threaten to jump you again?” Jungwon's eyebrows furrow, almost worried that Jay would lose in a fight with him—which he definitely wouldn’t.

“God, you guys are so ignorant, think about the poor girl for once.” Sunoo sighs, rolling his eyes at his friend's fuckboy-ness.

Jay almost rolls his eyes at Sunoo's comment. Were you thinking about Y/n when you blurted his secret out? But he knew he had to take accountability, whether he liked it or not.

“No way. Does the Park Jay feel bad about a girl? The Heartbreaker Park Jay?" Jake asks. And Jay wonders why he’s even friends with them. “Okay, I do feel bad. How do you apologize to a girl? Also Sunoo?"

He tilts his head.

“Never get drunk again.” Jay warns.

He scoffs, “Weren’t you planning on telling her anyways? I just ripped the bandage off for you.”

The group of boys burst into laughter but Jay couldn’t seem to figure out what was funny. “I didn’t come here for you guys to laugh at my misery.”

Niki gasps, “Jay, you’re actually serious about this one? This is a first.”

This time Jay actually rolls his eyes, “No dumbass- I’m just mad I can’t play around with her anymore.” The group seems fully convinced, some nodding their heads in expectancy. Jay’s eyebrows furrow seeing them be so blind to his problem, “I was kidding.” He deadpans, “I’m serious about her.”

His nose scrunches ever so slightly, “Oh. Well then you’re in huge trouble.”

“I know.”

“Okay—But seriously,” Jay asked, “How should I apologize?” A sudden wave of silence washed over them, looking at each other and shrugging.

Apologies, apologies, apologies was what went through his brain that night. What could he do that could fix the mess he had made?

People say real apologies came from the heart, but what even came from the heart? It’s an organ.

Jay’s mind felt like it was about to explode. It’s been an hour but his mind was empty, completely hollow. How could he fix this situation? Well first he could say sorry—Not that you would forgive him easily but it was a crucial part to his fix.

Until it finally clicked.

002 JAY’S “MASTER” PLAN

Last week you couldn’t bear the thought of coming back to school after the party, but here you were, driving yourself to school after a very sad three week mid winter break. A band aid now covering the tip of your finger that you had picked off. And—Of course. You forgot your water bottle again.

You sigh, fixing your silver necklace, you brush your hair behind your hair and open the car to—Oh fuck.

Why did Jay just happen to look like a fucking angel fallen from heaven at 7am in the morning?

And why was Jay here so early at school? You usually arrive much earlier than him.

You compose yourself, walking past him. Holding yourself to not even slightly slow down or look back.

Finally arriving at your locker you open it, looking at the light pink bag in it, one that you never put in it. Your eyebrows furrow as you pick it up, opening the mysterious bag.

You smile at the small snacks inside. A small bag of your favorite chips and a few of your favorite candies. That smile drops when you see an apple shaped sticky note with familiar handwriting inside.

Some gasps behind you, you jump, quickly turning around to see your beloved friends. “Someone’s got a secret admirer?” Eunbi teases, both Chaewon and her walking up to you.

You sigh, “It’s from Jay, do you want it?” You offer to both of them. They both grab it, sharing whatever snacks are in there.

“Oh!” Chaewon lights up, “Here’s your coffee.” She smiles with guilt. You smile back, gladly taking a sip of the slightly bitter drink to quench your thirst.

“Did the note say anything?” Eunbi pulls out the slightly crumpled sticky note in there. You glance at it, noticing Jay’s very asymmetrical heart.

You unconsciously laugh, quickly covering it up before grabbing the small note, reading it.

To My Apple,

I was stupid to use you to get back at him. Honestly the most stupid thing I would ever do and I deeply regret it. I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want to see me right now and I understand that you want your space from me. I just want to make it clear, I really do love you and I would never ever do something that horrible to you again. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to be on good terms even if you don’t fully forgive me for what I did to you. I truly am in love with and honestly I can’t live without you. Fuck I just miss you, you don’t have to respond or anything I just want to make it clear that I’m sorry, and I love you so much.

Jay

And your lips tug up just a bit.

“Y/n are you okay? You’ve been quiet since you’ve read that. What’s on there?” Chaewon asks, moving next to you to read from the flimsy paper.

Your eyes widen slightly, “Oh—It’s nothing.” you fumble with the paper a bit, “Nothing important.”

Eunbi laughs, “You’re such a bad liar, Y/n. But if it’s from Jay then you have to tell us.” Chaewon nods.

“No! I mean, it’s not from Jay. Let’s just go to class?” You smile at them shoving the sticky note into whatever pants pocket you have.

“You’re lucky you have your first period alone Missy.”

Throwing them a cheeky smile, you quickly walk to the nearest trash can, quickly tossing it in before looking around. You make eye contact with Jay and quickly look away again.

God—Why was the universe never on your side?

Though you try to ignore the small frown on his face, it runs through your head all day. Until, suddenly you're walking to your math seat again.

“Y/n you’re lucky that this is the only period I have with you, and that we spend all of lunch with our mouths stuffed” Eunbi groans, unpacking her notebook. She places it down neatly on her desk, before leaning forward to you.

“So, was it from Jay? Weren’t- like apples your thing?”

You let out a sigh, turning around “Apple cider was our thing. And maybe.”

She frowns, “Maybe? Y/n tell me, yes or no.”

You shrug again, turning back to the front making eye contact with the man himself again.

Does this man ever stop looking at you? Because you were almost certain his eyes were glued onto you. You look down at your notebook, trying to act as unbothered as possible—Which doesn’t really work since you hear Eunbi snickers..

You roll your eyes even though Eunbi can’t see it, she can read you like a book, whispering “If you keep rolling your eyes they’ll fall to the back of your head.”

Leaning back, you whisper, “I don’t think that’s how it works, stay in school Eunbi.”

003 PLAN IN MOTION

Getting out of the car the next day you hope and pray to every fucking god you know that you won’t see his familiar face again. But nothing ever seems to go well for you, because you see his sad smile through the window of his car.

You repeat what you did yesterday, walk away as quickly as you can without looking weird. But your legs quickly pick up because of your nervousness, speed walking to the entrance doors instead. You lean on the door, pushing to open it before walking in the same pace to your locker.

Then you finally slow your pace, opening your locker to see another light pink bag.

This time, the same snacks but with a plastic water bottle inside, with a little note saying “Make sure to drink lots of water <3”. You subconsciously smile, fishing out the piece of paper neatly tucked in.

Unfolding the paper, your jaw drops at the pencil writing that manages to cover the whole page.

Apple, my love, I might not be the best at words but I think seeing your lips tug up at my other small note motivated me to write this. Did I ever tell you that your smile brightens up my day? As cheesy as it sounds at night I used (I still do btw) to think about whatever stupid joke I made when we were on a date and how you would laugh happily at it, even if it was the worst joke ever known to mankind. And as embarrassing as it is to admit it I would giggle about it. Before and after we started dating. But you always cover your mouth when you laugh. but you shouldn’t. Your smile makes me feel like everything going wrong in my life will fix itself. When I was with you I had no worries, you made me feel free. But I’ve only brought you worries. I’m sorry.

Recently, I’ve been noticing you’ve been smiling less and yesterday you forgot to bring your water bottle to school. Please stay healthy and eat well, okay? Even if you hate me, I still care for your health. Don’t skip meals and drink lots of water, please. I’d do anything just to have a five minute conversation with you. I understand that what I did was unforgivable and that you shouldn't trust me again but please, put your trust in me one more time and please come to Azalea park at 3pm tomorrow and I’ll explain everything. I know you're angry but I beg that you be angrier at a closer distance. I’m sorry for the mess I’ve made, and I promise I’ll fix it.

Jay

Your eyebrows furrow. Was he serious? Was he trying to publicly embarrass you? Why did you want to go so bad?

Opening your phone to quickly text up Eunbi and Chaewon, who mysteriously hadn’t shown up yet.

You

bitch jay just wrote me a long last letter abt how hes sorry and how he truly loves me and wants to meet up and make things right????

where tf are yall btw

eunbi mlll

SHUT THE FUCK UP.

ARE YOU SERIOUS??

YOU HAVE TO GO

also chae cant drive me so bus it is…

chaechae

sorry ill be late to school 2day bc doctors lolsies

but r u sure eunbi????

y/n i love u but idk if this is a good idea

wait what did he say

eunbi mlll

NO U HAVE TO GO

but let us see the letter to confirm if hes sincere

You

im not about to show U guys the letter

Omfg guys i almost giggled reading it. this is Bad.

he said that he would do anything for a five minute talk with me and that he knows im mad at him but to be mad at a close distance???

now… i am Nawt your strongest soldier.

chaechae

shit if he wrote me that i wouldve folded too

changed my mind i say do it

You

so…. 2/2 votes yes?

thats kinda nerve racking idk if im ready to face him

eunbi mlll

y/n i am ready to get down on my knees and beg for u to go

you got this girl!

worst case scenario u slap him and embarrass him

chaechae

or maybe slap him when you get there, saves you the time

Just Kidding!!! Hahaha

You

Not funny at all.

hate u all

FUCKK now i have to text him and say im going

eunbi mlll

why not let him suffer???????

You

ill feel bad

chaechae

i mean did jay do that when you guys met??

You

fuck u

You exit your group chat, looking several spots down and spotting Jay contact, wincing at your last messages.

You

i’ll be at the park by 3. don’t fuck this up park

jay

wouldn’t even think about it

004 THE MEETING

Why did I agree to this again?

You glance at the clock, 2:58, I should head out now.

Sighing you open your door, walking to—From what you can distinguish from his back, Jay. you walk around the bench, brushing whatever dirt was on it and taking a seat.

Jay gives you a relieved smile, glasses framing his face perfectly-

“Glasses?” You blurt, studying the frame of them.

He coughs awkwardly, “Yeah- I um—I got them yesterday, forgot to wear them to school.”

Awkward silence washes over you two. Well was he going to say something or not?

And it’s almost like he can read your thoughts, because he starts, “Look—Apple. I just wanted to apologize in real life. It was a shitty move of me to use you-”

“Yeah- very shitty.” You interrupt, “Sorry, go on.”

“Oh okay, um- it was a terrible decision I made and I totally messed with you at the beginning, and never told you, I’m sorry.”

He pauses, choosing his words carefully.

“And—I regret it so much. I mean, you were the best thing that ever happened to me and I didn’t want to fuck it up, which would’ve happened anyways. I should’ve told you earlier on before I asked you out but I was afraid. Afraid that the only good thing in my fucked up life would vanish. So I ran away from the problem instead of talking to you about it like I should’ve. I’m sorry for running away and I swear, I would never hurt you—ever again. You don’t have to give me an answer yet, but just know that I still love you with all my heart.”

You take a deep breath, Fuck—what do I say? Should I ask him what he had against Hyun-woo?

Deciding to ask, you look at him with a hint of disappointment, “So why? What do you have against him that made you play with me?”

His eyebrows raise slightly, surprised you didn’t slap him and leave.

“Oh— it’s kind of stupid.” He says, pushing up his glasses slightly.

“I mean he both kinda fucked us over, right? I won’t judge, I hate his guts anyways.”

Jay lets out a breathy smile. “I used to be on the rugby team, remember?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well—I sound like such an egotistical jerk when I say this, but he took the captain position from me by sweet talking his way to the top. It wasn’t mine to begin with, but everyone thought that I deserved it the most, but of course, he took it from me. I wasn’t super mad or anything, I actually thought I was too cocky for um—thinking I deserved the position. It didn’t really help that he also kind of made fun of me any chance he got for not being captain. Blaming me for every loss we had then I just- snapped I guess? I quit then and there and here I am now. Even after I quit he still talked shit about me and I couldn’t really do anything. And I saw you and…” he trails off, “You know what happened.”

You swallow hard, trying to take it all in. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

You nervously start picking at whatever skin on your ring finger you could find, looking down so you wouldn’t have to look at his expression.

“It’s not your fault, don’t apologize, Apple. Plus I’m over it.”

He suddenly scowls, grabbing the now bleeding hand.

“Stop doing this. It’s not good” He pulls out a bandaid from his pocket, carefully placing it around your finger.

You laugh at the sight, “You carry around band aids now?”

“Ever since I met you, yeah.” He slips out and you both go silent.

Was that true? He noticed it?

You clear your throat awkwardly, yanking your hand away after he finishes. “Thank you for the band aid—uh, about your apology, I appreciate it, but I need some time to think about it, if that's okay?”

“Yeah, take your time, I understand.” He gives you a soft smile, which you return. Waving at him while walking to your car.

You sit in the driver’s seat, calling the group chat while backing out.

Chaewon joins first, “So…. How’d it go? Did you slap him? Or did you forgive him?”

Eunbi joins just after, waiting for your answer.

“I don’t know how to feel.” You answer, sighing.

“Hey, you’ll figure it out Y/n! Don’t worry, everything will be fine.” Eunbi gives you a thumbs up with a soft smile.

You nod, returning her smile, and you try to believe it too.

005 THE CALL

As soon as you were out of view Jay pulled his phone out, noticing the ten text messages from the man himself.

sunoo

jayyy

hello

where r u

wait r u two meeting today

OK IK U WONT SEE THIS

so i just want to say sorry for… kinda ruining ur relationship.

IM SO SORRY I WAS DRUNKK PLEASE FORGIVE MEEE

anyways.. text me back whenever u can!!

have fun with y/n

hope it goes well

A smile grows on Jay’s face, he presses his contact photo, bringing his phone to his ear.

“Jay! I didn’t think you would answer so soon?”

“It’s been fifteen minutes? I feel like that's a good amount of time to have a conversation.” Did you just want to leave him as soon as possible? Fuck maybe he didn’t have a chance to win you ba-

“Oh! It’s been fifteen minutes? I guess time flies when you’re on your phone right?” Nevermind.

“So! Did you and Y/n kiss and make up? Or was she angry?”

“No, we just talked? Like I said we would?”

“Are you sure?” Sunoo says in a teasing tone. With that simple sentence, Jay could tell Sunoo was probably giggling to himself about you two meeting up.

“Yes I’m sure? Why would I be lying?” Jay feels the wind pick up some speed, an indication he should go home. He walks himself to the car while talking to Sunoo.

“So you’re telling me, all you did was apologize and she left?”

“Yeah.”

Sunoo groans, “That’s so boring! Totally thought you would have a movie moment then.”

“I mean the only thing unexpected I told her was what happened with Hyun-woo and me.”

He dramatically gasps, “But you never tell anyone? Why does she get to know and not me?”

“She asked.” Jay shrugs, starting the car.

“But you never told me, I only know that you two hate each other! This is straight favoritism. Can’t believe you.” Sunoo angrily exclaims, deciding to hang up the call.

Jay sighs, driving back home.

006 DAY RUINER

Today, you smile as you leave your car. Instead of walking as fast as you can to the doors, you even wave at Jay’s car pulling in. He waves back, a big smile on his face that catches onto yours. You happily walk to the entrance, pushing open the entrance door and walking to your locker.

Getting your first period textbook, and closing your locker, you quickly spot Eunbi and Chaewon walking towards you.

“Someones happy, did you get a good morning message from your lover?” Eunbi teases.

You take a sip of the coffee Chaewon gave you. “No? Can’t a girl just have a good day?” You twirl around.

“Okay you’re acting really weird. Is something wrong?” They exchange glances, waiting for your answer.

“Yeah, somethings wrong.” A male voice comes up to you. Your smile immediately drops. Hyun-woo looks at you, standing between you and Eunbi, he grabs your hand dragging you away.

“What the fuck? Get off me!” You exclaim, trying your best to yank your hand away from him. But apparently his rugby muscles could keep you in his hold, but definitely way too tight for comfort. Hopefully you won't get a big ass bruise there.. He leads you to a hallway which is surprisingly empty.

“Can we talk? Y/n?”

You scoff, “Are you crazy? You drag me here and expect me to want to have a civil conversation with you?’ huffing, you turn back around.

“I want to get back together, Y/n!”

You stop in your tracks, turning around at his conflicted face before bursting out laughing. You only laugh more looking at his hurt face.

“Y/n are you laughing? I’m serious! I want you back! And I know you want me back too!”

You finally stop laughing, taking a deep breath “Gosh you’re funny Hyun-woo. Okay, I’m leaving.” He grabs you again. Does this guy think he’s in a kdrama or something?

“Y/n. I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I miss you. Can we get back together?”

“So… you played me, and you want to get back together?”

“I wouldn’t say played-”

“Oh but I would. And can you get your hand off me? I can feel your odor latching on to me.” Yanking your hand away, you look at him in disgust.

“Y/n please. Can we-”

“You’re insane Hyun-woo. If you haven’t gotten the hint yet—Which I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t, I’m not interested in dating someone who’s a lookalike to the hunchback of Notre Dame. Actually, maybe that would be an improvement to you.” You shrug, walking away. Shivering in disgust at the thought of him grabbing your arm.

How did I even like this guy? Also what is it with men these days? A scowl is very obvious on your face as you walk back to your lockers. Before you get back to Chaewon and Eunbi, someone taps you from behind.

You turn, “I swear to god Hyun-woo if you-”

“Not Hyun-woo, just me.”

You turn to see Jay, a frown present on his face. Your mouth widens slightly and you close it right away. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for that, but are you okay? Why did he do that?” He checks your wrist for any forming bruises. Tsking at the slight red tint on your arm. “I’m fine, Jay. It was for something stupid anyways.” you answer, grabbing at his hands to stop.

“What’d he do?” You can hear the genuine concern in his voice and you know you’ll feel horrible if you don’t tell him.

“He just,” you cough awkwardly, “asked to get back together.”

His face changes slightly, but you can’t tell how, “Did you agree?”

“Oh god no—oh my god I wouldn’t even spare a single thought thinking about it.” You laugh, squeezing his hand slightly. A wave of relief washes over his face, “I’m glad. Call me if he does it again, okay?”

“Am I supposed to be your damsel in distress?”

“I was thinking we could kick his ass together.”

You let out a giggle, “I’ll make sure to let you know then,” waving goodbye, you walking back to your beloved trio.

“Oh my god, I didn’t know the talk went that well, you guys were flirting so hard!” Chaewon whisper-yells.

“We were not flirting.”

“Oh you so were. You literally giggled while talking to him” Eunbi agrees.

“I did?”

“See it was so natural you didn’t even notice! I wasn’t really a fan of Jay but he clearly makes you happy.” Chaewon admits, putting her hands up in surrender from Eunbi’s offended look.

“I don’t know. I mean he did kinda use me. So who says he won’t do it again?”

“Me, I do. If he does I’ll literally punch him to oblivion” Eunbi and Chaewon start pretend boxing, the bell interrupting their match. They both groan, giving up mid match.

“I’m glad I’m friends with the next Muhammad Ali, but I’m going to go to class now.” You laugh, waving goodbye and walking to your first period.

007 CALLS AT MIDNIGHT

Your math class gave you time to think about everything going wrong in your life, because who was actually listening to Mrs. Lim’s blabbering? You doodle little hearts in your notebook, now noticing that you hadn’t written a single note and the whole page was just covered in your drawings.

Does this class never end or something? You wonder, checking the clock.

Twenty minutes left, you internally groan, how is it that time moves so slow during times like these? You bring your hand to your mouth, biting the nail off your ring finger. Feeling a vibration coming from your phone, you quickly take a look at the board, making sure the teacher was still writing before checking it.

jay

stop

You

whatd i do???

jay

stop biting your nails

i can see you doing it yk

You

thats none of your business

jay

it’s not

but i still care ya know

You

oh really?

jay

really.

You

fine whatever 🙄🙄

The smile that had grown on your face quickly fades the moment you even notice it was there. Why are you folding so easily Y/n? You have to give him a hard time! You sigh louder than you realize, quickly feeling embarrassment when Mrs. Lim stares right at you.

“Is something wrong, Y/n?” Mrs. Lim asks, a cruel eyebrow raised.

Oh, fuck me. “No Mrs. Lim, nothing is wrong.” You smile as sweetly as you can.

“Then I guess you won’t mind answering one of these questions?” She showcases three equations on the board.

Your smile falls slightly, not this shit again, you complain, walking up to the first equation staring at it blankly while she picks the next two students. Holding the marker up and pretending to think, knowing damn well that you hadn’t listened to a single thing she said that day.

Looking over to the person next to you, Jay, seems to already be looking in your direction, a small smile on his face.

“Looks like you need help this time, Apple? What a twist.”

You roll your eyes, “You didn’t even need help last time. But yes, I do. Could you please—like give me the answer or something?”

“X equals four point five seven.”

You finally return his smile, a small thank you coming out as you write it on the board.

After another long twenty minutes the bell finally rings, indicating that school is finally over. Your usual after school routine was, 1. walk to your car with Chaewon and Eunbi (sometimes you hung out, but today you weren’t) 2. Go home (duh), and start your homework, 3. Eat dinner, and 4. Go on your phone until you fall asleep. You didn’t mind this arrangement, it kept you comfortable knowing that you had some free time later in the day. But today, you were dreading it more than ever.

Why? you ask?

Every couple of days, whenever your phone wasn’t doing your boredom justice you put it down for a good three minutes. And those three minutes entirely made up of you staring at the ceiling and thinking. That was the problem. You didn’t want to think about a single thing that happened today. You didn’t want to think about your upcoming tests that only got you nervous before you were about to go to bed or your love life (which it sometimes went to but you always dreaded even bringing up the topic to yourself).

Tonight was one of those nights you would stare at the ceiling.

The topic you always first thought of was what you did earlier that day. But unfortunately for you, half of the day you had thought about you and Jay basically holding each other's hands. And the other half was thinking about if you forgave Jay yet.

You wanted to say you didn’t. That you would have to take at least two weeks after the apology to even think about the apology. But two days after the apology, here you were. Staring into space about how you think he would react to you forgiving him.

I mean you had basically already forgave him, I mean you wouldn’t have squeezed someone's hand you hated, right? And you definitely don’t miss the voice of someone you hate.

Staring at the ceiling clearly wasn’t a good idea. Because you were already grabbing your phone, looking at his contact. Just above it is your group chat with Eunbi and Chaewon. Maybe you should get a greenlight before you decide to call him.

You glance at the clock, making sure it wasn’t too late to text your friends. The clock hits 11:52 as you look at it. Typing out the texts, you wait until the message sends before closing out of the app.

You

hey guys lawl

r u awake

pls say Yes!

Luckily, Chaewon answers just a few seconds after you close the app.

chaechae

hi im awake

is eunbi awake around this time???

You

no shes never awake past 10 LMFAO

shouldve messaged u privately

chaechae

HELPP FR

wait so what did u want to talk abt

You

Uhmm

so uh

do u think its weird that i’ve forgiven jay so easily and should i call him.. lowkey miss him

chaechae

BITCH U FORGAVE HIM??

WHEN

ok but no??

i mean anyone could literally see how hard he tried to make it up to you

and call him!! Yolo

You

ok Thx!!!!

chaechae

yw 😘😘

Closing the chat, you look at his caller i.d, noticing how big his smile was in the contact photo you never deleted. Smiling, you look down at the call button, wondering if this was a good idea or not. You hesitantly lift your finger, hovering over the rectangle before clicking it.

The phone rings twice, before he answers.

“Y/n, is everything okay? Why are you calling at midnight?”

“Everything’s fine, don't worry, but sorry, did I wake you up?”

You can hear shuffling on his side of the call, before he answers, “No no, I was awake. Why did you call?”

“Honestly? I just wanted to hear your voice.”

He lets out a low chuckle, “Really? That’s it?”

“I also think I forgive you and I want to be your girlfriend again.”

A wave of silence washes over you two. Not a single sound comes through your phone, not a single shuffling or anything. Maybe you shouldn’t have called him, this was a stupid idea. Who let you make important decisions past ten o’clock?

Until he starts up again. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“You don’t have to answer that right now if you’re not ready to, I can wait eternity for you.”

“No it’s okay, That’s my answer. Let’s give this thing another try.”

“Thank you, Apple. I’ve missed you a lot, you know?”

You smile, “I’ve missed you a lot too.”

008 FOREVER

“Jay, it’s a Saturday.”

He has a huge grin on his face, he very proudly presents what’s in his hands. A bouquet of white and purple roses with a mix of some unknown flower sit in his hands, the brown paper wrapped by twine making him loudly announce every move he’s about to make.

“So? I missed my girl.”

You sigh, rubbing your pried open eyes. “At nine in the morning? I wake up at like eleven.” His smile never falters, not a single bit, “I got you flowers.” Jay says, handing them to you.

“Thank you, Jay. But these are so bright they could literally blind me.”

“I put a lot of thought into this, you know? ‘Made sure to pick the prettiest one for you.” He points to the unknown purple flower. “This is called a Heliotrope.”

“Is there a meaning to it?”

“You’ll figure it out.” He smirks. Rolling your eyes, you invite him into your house. placing the bouquet carefully on your desk before inviting him to sit on your bed.

You lay back in the spot you were before you had opened the door. About to tuck yourself back in when you realize you have a guest with you, you toss the blanket open, gesturing for him to lay next to you. Jay gladly accepts, laying next to you. Closing your eyes you feel the dip in the bed right next to you.

You two both move to get comfortable, finding it best when you’re facing each other, arms lazily thrown over each other.

“Did you just come here to cuddle?” You ask, the words barely coming out of your throat. A soft chuckle comes out of him, you can feel the vibrations of his chest when he says, “Would you mind if I said yes?”

You shake your head no, pulling him impossibly closer. He wraps his arm around your head, softly caressing it until you fall asleep.

Later, you wake up to Jay still sleeping soundly. Checking the time you realize you’ve been sleeping for at least an hour. You grab your phone from the bedside table checking your notifications and social media apps.

In your peripheral view, the bright purple flowers stand out brightly to you. You quickly switch apps to look up the meaning of the flower.

Pressing enter you read the first box you see.

“In the language of flowers, Heliotrope symbolizes devotion and eternal love.”

A smile grows on your face, Eternal love, I could get used to that.

009 TO DRINK SOME APPLE CIDER (extra timeskip)

Sitting down at your vanity, you look over at Jay to see his familiar dyed silver hair, and a nice dress shirt. You turn back to the mirror.

“Can you believe 2024 is over?” You ask Jay, blending out the eyeshadow you’re putting on. He walks next to you, wrapping his arms around your body, laying down on you. “I’m glad I’ll be spending it with my girl.”

You cover your face feeling the warmth grow on it, slapping his arm, and he quickly pulls away, hissing at the contact.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“For not letting me get ready.” You jokingly roll your eyes, he quickly kisses your cheek before going back to fix his shirt.

Once you finish you showcase your look, you decide to wear a satin green dress, matching Jay’s dark green shirt. You both look at your full length mirror admiring how you look.

“You look so pretty, Apple.” He says, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

You smile when he does that, “You don’t look too bad yourself, Park.”

He frowns, “Don’t call me Park.” he says. You smirk mischievously, “I’m sorry, my big baby.” You tease, pinching both his cheeks. A knock to your apartment door sets you apart. You quickly let his cheeks go, a red tint fills them as you run to open the door. Chaewon and Eunbi greet you two, both holding food of some sort.

Later everyone arrives and the sound of the room grows. Laughter and banter fills the air as the clock continues to click to midnight.

You stand off to the side, wanting a break from everyone for a little bit, taking a sip of the sparkling apple cider you’ve had in your hands the whole night. You look back up to see Jay approaching you with a smile, showcasing his matching cup.

“We both have apple cider!” He exclaims, gesturing to the amber colored drinks in both of your hands.

“What a coincidence.” You laugh, enveloping him in a hug. “Where have you been all night? I haven’t seen you since Jungwon arrived.”

“Sorry, I was just talking with them. Got caught up and then suddenly it’s minutes to midnight! Couldn’t miss my new year’s kiss with my girl could I?”

The seconds count down as the crowd of friends all join to count down from ten.

“Ten!” They exclaim.

“Who said you were getting one?”

“Nine! Eight! Seven!”

“I’ve been hoping for one. Would you like to be my New Year’s kiss?”

“Five! Four! Three!”

“I’d love to.” You respond, he barely hears it before the friends scream in excitement.

“Two!”

You close your eyes, smash your lips into his, tasting the sweet apple cider from both of your lips. He smiles into the kiss as the whole apartment celebrates. He wraps his unoccupied hand around your waist, as you wrap yours around his neck, being careful to not spill.

You finally pull away and he looks at you with a love sick gaze. You let out a breathy smile, “Happy New Year, My love.”

“Happy New Year, Apple.”

Giving him a huge hug, you look at everyone chug down their champagne drinks, laughing when Sunghoon spills on his shirt.

“I love you.” Jay whispers.

“I love you too, Jay. I hope we spend the rest of the year together.”

“Maybe even forever.” He replies.

You look back at him, tilting your head slightly. A huge smile still plastered on your face. “Forever and always.”

taglist : @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @flwoie @kjrcrz @hsgworld @boyfhee

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