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tojisrealwifey · 7 months ago

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Crybaby — f. toji (pt. 4)

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Synopsis: When you realize your husband might still be hung up on his ex-wife.

・❥・requests : rules

・❥・characters: fushiguro toji.

warnings: mdni, 18+, themes of divorce, brief smut, angst but kinda fluff, slight comfort, sad gumi, toji's ex-wife's name is rei.

・❥・wc: 2.7k

・❥・masterlist

・❥・crybaby masterlist

"I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry."

Megumi sat slumped in the living room, his mind in turmoil as he tried to process his parents' impending divorce. Toji approached him with furrowed brows, a mix of concern and frustration etched on his face.

In a swift motion, he slapped the back of Megumi's head, gently but firmly.

"Why'd you do that brat?" Toji asks in a scolding tone, his fingers rubbing his forehead to show visually how fed-up he is.

"What?" Megumi snaps, rubbing the back of his head, he turns in his seat to reveal his red and slightly swollen eyes to his father.

Toji takes a look at him and sighs, feeling regretful for taking a harsh approach.

"I know you're mad, but you shouldn't talk to your mother about the divorce that way. She's also hurting."

Toji had returned home and overheard your conversation with Megumi. He waited for you to leave the kitchen and observed as you headed to their bedroom, likely to freshen up in the bathroom.

Knowing that you would take a moment, Toji took the opportunity to approach his son for a talk.

"I was being honest." Megumi retorts but fails to conceal his guilt, likely feeling ashamed of how he addressed the issue.

"Megumi, it's not your mom's fault. I messed up years ago, and that's why she's acting this way. I made her feel like a stranger in her own home, and I can't undo that pain.

Megumi sat in silence as his father spoke, his gaze fixed on a distant point, but his attention fully focused on his father's words.

"Whatever went down between us, it's not something you need to worry about. But just so you know, even if your mom and I split up, we'll always be there for you."

Megumi's lips downturned as a gesture of doubt, the air heavy with uncertainty.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because she's your mother. The world can end but that fact will never change."

Megumi's eyes gloss over, prompting him to shut them close.

"Your Ma and I can't stay together because it's just breaking her heart more. "

"So you think she deserves better?"

"Yes." Toji answers without a moment of hesitation. Megumi looks taken aback by his quick response but isn't all too surprised.

"...But...what if she actually meets someone and starts a new family? Why would she bother with us after that?"

"Brat, do you really think your Ma would forget you once she meets someone else?"

Megumi falls into a contemplative silence, his thoughts carrying him away for a few fleeting seconds.

You wouldn't do that, he was sure of it. But he had also believed that his parents would never grow apart.

"I know your mom better than anyone else, and I know that you're her top priority, even more than me." There was not a hint of dishonesty in Toji's words.

As Toji gazes up, he notices your arrival in the room. Your eyelashes were still wet, whether from washing your face or crying, he didn't know.

Megumi takes the opportunity to offer you an apology.

"...Sorry Ma, I'm being so selfish. It's just, everything is gonna change now."

You and Toji stared at each other for a moment before you shifted your focus to Megumi. As you walked towards him, you wrapped your arms around his head while he pressed his face against your stomach, silently sobbing into your dress.

"You're allowed to be selfish, Megumi. You're our son." Your voice is so soft that Megumi couldn't help but hug you tighter.

The conversation ended in a heavy silence, with each of them grappling with the weight of their emotions and the changes in their family dynamic.

You and Toji made sure not to let it affect the atmosphere. The two of you cooked lunch as Megumi stood near the kitchen counter, lending a hand every now and then.

The three of you chatted, mostly about Megumi's college journey and eagerly anticipating his upcoming 18th birthday in less than half a year.

He enjoyed the atmosphere, letting the sadness be pushed to the back of his mind. He savored every single bite of the lunch that afternoon.

It was dark outside as your husband and son wordlessly prepared for bed. After the confrontation less than a week ago, you and Toji hadn't been sleeping in the same room. He opted to stay in Megumi's room for the time being.

But with him back, Toji was forced to move back into your shared bedroom. You had just finished brushing your hair and braiding it, as you do every night. Toji walks in wearing his sweatpants, bare on top.

"You don't mind, do you?" He asks you, walking over to his side of the bed.

There was another pang in your heart, knowing your actions led to this. Your own husband was asking if he could sleep in his own bed. Your husband, who rarely gave a fuck about anyone telling him what to do, was asking for your permission.

"I think we're way past that phase, Toji." You joke, trying to lighten the heavy air. But no laughs follow, so you just nod in acceptance.

"You don't have to ask, Toji." Taking the brush off your lap, you place it on your nightstand.

Fuck, he missed you.

The two of you were living under the same roof, yet he missed you. He wanted to pull you in and place a kiss on your forehead like he did every night, but he held himself back another day.

"I'm just gonna go check on Megumi. Do you need anything?" You ask as you get off the bed.

'Yeah, you.'

Toji almost says the words on his mind, but refrains, shaking his head instead. Walking out of the room, your steps slowly lead you to your son's room. Knocking a few times, you wait for an indication to go in.

When Megumi verbalizes his permission, you open the door, watching him fluffing his pillow a few times. Just like his father, he too only wore a pair of sweatpants, choosing to go bare from the waist up.

"What is it?" Megumi asked, confused as he took a seat on his bed. You shake your head at his direct tone, sighing once.

"Can't I check on my own son?" You ask, hands in fists as your knuckles pressed against your hips.

"You can, it's just I'm really tired." Megumi says, getting under the blanket and pulling the fabric up to his chest. His arms folded under his head, acting as a pillow while he closed his eyes.

You 'aww' at his tired face, walking up to him and sitting down beside his outstretched figure. You place a hand against his forehead, stroking it up towards his hair.

"I know, honey. Your alarms are all off, right?" You ask, your fingers running through his hair comfortingly. Softly massaging his head, you felt him relax under your touch.

"Y-yeah..." He answered, but his hesitation was clear to you, making you question him.

"Hm? What's wrong?"

He falls silent momentarily, before turning to his side, still facing you. His eyes remained closed as he spoke.

"Could you...stay here for a while?" He asks timidly, pushing his head into the pillow. You chuckle at his sudden shyness, giving a noise of approval.

Shifting yourself, you get under the blanket as well, lying down and embracing him with no hesitation.

He softly fights against your tight hold, but you don't falter, instead attacking his face with small kisses.

"I missed you so much, baby 'Gumi." You cooed, pushing his head into your chest, pampering him with kisses.

Megumi stops fighting back, admitting defeat as he eases into your hold. Although he felt like a child again, he didn't complain anymore, easily lulled to sleep due to your warmth.

You pat his head just like you used to when he was 11 and had trouble falling asleep. Unconsciously you start to admire his features, noting what a beautiful boy he had grown to become.

He was handsome just like his father, although his face was a lot more delicate as compared to Toji. You had no doubt he took after Rei in that aspect.

You sigh, closing your eyes as you think about this irritable situation.

Was Rei watching over Megumi, even in her death? You were sure she was. This felt so unfair, yet so inevitable.

Your mind could no longer distinguish between what was right or wrong, who to blame or forgive.

'I'm sorry, Miss Rei.' You whispered in your thoughts, a heavy weight settling in your chest.

'I know you wished to be here, to raise your son.' Your head swam with unspoken apologies to the late woman, regrets you could never voice aloud despite never meeting her.

"You're probably cursing me for hurting your son like this. Especially after Toji trusted me too," Guilt seeps into every corner of your heart.

You held Megumi tighter, feeling his form against yours. Your eyes closed, shutting out the world as you sought refuge in sleep, a brief escape from the pain.

'I won't let Megumi feel like this again.' You vowed silently.

"Nor will I ever blame Toji for something he has no control over. That's my promise to you, Miss Rei. So please, rest easy."

Tears slipped down your cheeks, unseen in the darkness, as you clung to Megumi, hoping your love could somehow fill the void left by his mother's absence.

"Toji...~"

Toji starts to stir, warm breath wafting against his cheek. He doesn't startle awake, but when he does open his eyes, your silhouette greets him.

It was dark, yet he could make out your features. Toji moves his arms almost on instinct, placing his hands on your waist, only to be met with your bare skin.

Toji, coming to his senses now, could feel your nakedness against him, breasts pressing against his chest, legs on either side of him as you lay on top of him.

He lets out a hiss, finally becoming aware of his sensitive cock that touched your folds. You let out another quiet moan against his cheek, placing a wet kiss to wake him up.

"Fuckkk [name]...It's so fuckin' early Ma." His hand smooths over your lower back, urging you to push your cunt down on him.

"Hahhh~ missed you, Toji. Mhmmm~ m-missed this..." You placed kisses against his jaw making him shiver. The coldness of the room finally hit him, realizing his sweatpants had been removed, as opposed to just taking his cock out like he had originally thought.

You slide back slightly, the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. You sit up, ass meeting his lap as you sink down on his length.

"Ohhhh~"

"Shiiiit~ You're so warm, babe." Maintaining your movements, your hips grind against his occasionally. Your thighs were already aching from lifting yourself and settling down.

Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.

Keeping up this pattern, knowing when to clench, fingers toying with Toji's chest, playfully pinching his nipples, his fingers in your mouth, biting down to contain your moans, pussy snug around him, taking him raw in the middle of the night.

Fuck.

You were perfect.

The jiggle of your breasts, flushed face visible in the moonlight, drool spilling from your mouth and down his arm, his other hand gracing your waist with its warmth, your slick forming a ring around his cock.

It was perfect.

But not real.

Toji didn't jolt awake, but his hand came to hit hard against his head in frustration. Wiping his face to get rid of the accumulated sweat, he sighs in defeat.

Eyes still closed, he uses the same hand to feel the area beside him. Opening his eyes, he noticed your side of the bed still empty.

You didn't return?

He checks the small digital clock on his nightstand, eyes glancing over the blaring white numbers.

2:14 AM

He sighs. He caught himself early tonight.

This was the fourth time this week he had woken up after a wet dream about you. This started the day he walked away from you that night and camped out on the couch.

It wasn't like he had never had a wet dream that consisted of you, but it was never consecutive, and...you were always there to take care of him.

After the confrontation that night, he fell asleep in distress, thoughts revolving around you and only you. He wasn't surprised to have a dream like that.

That was night one.

After having to clean himself up in his son's bathroom (since you were there in their shared room) he decided to just sleep in Megumi's bed, considering it was better for his back. He wasn't getting any younger

On night two, he had the same dream of you riding him, and although he woke up immediately, it was too late as his sweats were already soiled.

They say the third time's the charm, right?

Wrong.

After dreaming of taking you in their car, he climaxed instantly and almost punched himself after he woke up.

However, by today, the fourth night, he had become aware of his consciousness, forcing himself awake.

Turning on the lamp, he spares one look at his sweatpants, just in case, before going on the quest to locate you.

One leg follows the other in getting out of bed, his feet making a subtle 'thud' against the floor with every step. The soft sound was loud in the quiet night, but he continued, making his way to the only place you could be. Megumi's room.

He turns on the hallway lights and notices the door to Megumi's room slightly ajar. He softly pushes the door open wider, the yellow lights of the hallway flooding into the room in the form of a beam.

The beam of light was directly painted over his wife and son's sleeping figures. Your and Megumi's breaths were synchronized, snoring simultaneously.

The two of you were clinging to each other, and Toji almost had the urge to chuckle at his son's actions, arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

If Megumi knew of this, he would likely dig a hole and climb in, hoping to vanish from existence.

Something like this was so unlike Megumi, and this is what made Toji realize how his careless words were probably going to ruin this.

Because of bringing up a divorce, his son might never feel the love of his mother again. And nor will Toji.

"I'm sorry, Megumi. But there are complexities... things you're not aware of." "Tell me! Maybe I can help!" "No. It's something only I can fix. But, my heart just isn't ready for it."

No. It wasn't something only you could fix.

He made a mistake. That much was obvious to him, but he underestimated just how many people this could affect, where initially his intention was to be the only one hurt by this.

Instead of walking away, he should have comforted you properly.

Instead of giving you 'freedom' in the name of divorce, he should have assured you.

Instead of wanting you to find someone better, he should have been the one to better himself.

Rei. He missed her. He loved her. Rei was a part of his life that could never be changed. She showered him with love, gave him a son, and showed him light in the sad dark he thought he could never escape.

But she was gone, leaving Megumi in her place to keep him out of the darkness that threatened to drown him every waking second.

So, He held on. For Megumi. He held on when he was shamed by his family. He held on when his family threatened to take Megumi away. He held on when he was on the brink of living on the streets. He held on to provide for his son.

He held on when he didn't understand how school admissions worked. He held on during parent-teacher conferences where he had no idea how to respond.

He held on when his son's friends were over and he had no idea how to host. He held on when he was around other parents, him being the only single parent. He held on as he saw couples walking happily with their children when he stood alone with Megumi, missing Rei's presence.

He held on. Until he found you. Because you were there to take him in your arms and hold him close, making sure he never fell back again.

And now he failed you.

Rei was a memory that he would never forget, even in his death. He was sure that memories of her would flash before his eyes as he would lay on his deathbed.

But you...

You would be there to hold his hand, letting him know that he died being loved.

He has to show you what you truly mean, but he doesn't know how.

If only his grunt nature allowed him to speak his heart. Well, he'll work hard to prove his love in any other means necessary.

Smiling softly, he steps back and closes the door to its entirety.

taglist: @lunesmai @montyrokz @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @sad-darksoul @qoumaina @4y3sh4 @mellohatesyou @abisangelss @blankwashed @m0rganit3 @c4rm1son @eichhiinem @ghostfacefricker6969 @quinnyundertow @orange-stars @lillycore @whosmarjj @keanureevessmile @esposadomd @latorsgatorz @tananaxx @cauqhtz @r0ckst4rjk @creative1writings @numblytemporary @swirlingcurses @lostinneocity @sleppyann @eneiyri @ebiharachan

a/n: how tf do you do the gradient text on here?! i'm crying in html someone please helpppp!!!!

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joonsytip · 6 months ago

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Only for Love || Mingyu - Part 3

Pairings: Mingyu x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Husband!Mingyu, Cold Wife!Reader, Arranged Marriage au, Contract Marriage au, Divorce au

Synopsis: When an accidental discovery has your perception of happy married life crumbling down, you do what you think is the best for everyone involved. Naturally, your opinion of the best doesn't cater to your husband's. So what happens when things spiral out due to unforeseen events?

Warnings: character death, mentions of pregnancy, Mingyu acts dumb, reader goes through a whole lot of emotional turmoil, mentions of divorce, tears, profanities, major angst.

Word Count: 5.7k

@wongyuuu thanks a lot for brainstorming out this with me & happy birthday, love! 💕🎂

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue

Mingyu returns to an empty house. He waits for you for an hour, two hours and when the clock strikes midnight his mind clouds with concern. He fishes out his phone and ignoring the series of notifications that keeps on popping up, he calls you.

But with all his calls remaining unanswered, Mingyu surges in panic and calls Soonyoung who's extremely pissed and shows his discontentment through a dry, edgy reply.

"She left with Minghao."

That's the only line Mingyu hears before getting hung up. And Soonyoong does not pick up his call again.

And now he sits rooted to the couch, tapping feet in anxiety and worry with no idea about your whereabouts and who the hell is Minghao?

His thoughts bounce off the walls and he decides to take his car and drives off to find you aimlessly. He goes to your office only to be greeted by the security. He goes to the café you are regular at, knowing very well that it would be closed but he makes a round just for his sanity. He knocks on your apartment door but it's empty just like the house was.

Dejected he fishes out his phone to call your uncle when the notification of your name flashes on the screen.

'Meet me at home within fifteen minutes.'

There's no way he's gonna get home within the said timeframe but just as he rushes towards his car, his phone vibrates again.

'Half an hour. Don't run the red lights, don't run over people.'

Mingyu listens to your advice and thankfully he reaches you in one piece.

But he stands frozen as he sees you in the hallway carrying a duffle bag.

"Where were you?", no greetings, you ask checking your watch.

Mingyu knows you know and you know that he knows that you know.

"I had to leave with Sora."

"And who's she?"

Mingyu bites his tongue before answering, "My ex."

"What made you go somewhere with your ex rather than watch your wife getting felicitated?", your voice is calmer than usual and it scares your husband to the bones.

He stays silent. And you wait for him like you have all the time in the world.

"I can't tell you right now, Y/N. I'm sorry.", he answers quietly, lowering his gaze.

"Okay.", you say and Mingyu looks at you flabbergasted. Before he could speak, you add,"I'm going to stay at my uncle's."

Mingyu feels electrified, the sensation which burns his whole body, itches on his skin and scratches at the throat.

"I'm sorry, I know it is an unacceptable behaviour of me but please trust me. I haven't done anything to be ashamed of.", Mingyu grabs your hands and blabbers, "You can stay with your uncle but please tell me when you are going to return, that you're going to return."

You pull back your hands from his grip, "I don't think I'll be returning anytime soon.", you say sternly, "I had something to share with you but this isn't the right time."

"Y/N--"

"Before I leave, tell me one thing. Are you going to keep seeing her?"

Mingyu flares at this, "I'm not seeing her for fucks sake! I would never do something bad, I'm your husband."

You stare at him for a solid minute, "You didn't answer my question. Anyways, I'm disappointed. Keep yourself in my shoes and give it a thought."

"Let me drive you, it's late.", he offers.

"You don't have to worry about me, Minghao is already waiting with his car."

Mingyu twitches on hearing the name for the second time, "And who's that?"

"I can't tell you right now, Mingyu. I'm sorry.", you mimic his words from before and just as you are about to cross the threshold, you whisper shaking your head, "You can't even put yourself in my shoes..."

Mingyu watches you leave with a grim heart.

It's been a two weeks since you've been living with your uncle. And though you've left home in despair, Mingyu has somehow made it a mission to win back your trust.

But who's gonna tell him that you never doubted him, you were just mad, just like a teenage girl who can't keep her act straight in front of her love.

He calls you every night. For the first week you didn't pick up his calls but when your anger started to subside you entertained his calls but never spoke much, just listened to him telling how his day went. He asks every time if could visit you, getting a straight no as reply. He might be obedient but he's sneaky as hell because most of the times when you're getting off work you somehow see him engrossed with some conversation with Soonyoung at the parking.

What is he doing at your workplace almost everyday, when he could crash at Soonyoung's place. Why does Soonyoung have to call out your name every time when you're walking past them, roping you into some small talks.

Soonyoung is the imposter.

And why does everytime aa you are about to take leave after the conversation, Mingyu asks you the same question, "When are you returning?"

You never answer.

"You've gotta be kidding me!", Seokmin yelps. They all have gathered at Mingyu's place because everyone is stressed and wants to know what is actually happening.

"There are all sorts of rumours at the workplace. And I wanna punch everyone in the face.", Soonyoung says dejected, "Minghao and Y/N went to the same university so some are saying that they have dated during that time." he takes a chug from the can and continues, "And since Mingyu didn't show up at the event last time, it has sparked the speculations."

Mingyu sits head lowered, rubbing his hands all over the face.

"I'm sure Minghao likes her. I can tell by the way he looks at her.", Soonyoung puts it down.

"What about Y/N?", Mingyu asks his heart beating in his chest rapidly.

"What do you think dumbass?", Junhui glares at him.

"Woah, I'm offended now that you asked that question.", Hansol speaks in distaste.

"It's been a month without her.", Mingyu sighs, his lips curl down, eyes filled with concern, "I think everything was going back to normal, assuming by the way she responded, I felt like she'd be coming back anytime but she has gone radio silent suddenly. For the past two weeks she isn't responding to my calls or texts, she is even working from home."

"Yeah maybe Minhee can tell something", Junhui suggests, "But I doubt she'd spill anything if Y/N has told her not to."

The evening bleeds into night and the guys keep on chatting when suddenly Jeonghan who hasn't been much involved decides to speak.

"Now that Sora is back? What are you gonna do?"

The laughters die down and room falls silent with all the eyes on Mingyu.

"What's going on guys? Is there something we don't know?", Seokmin asks in fear.

Jeonghan leans back on the couch and looks at Mingyu, saying, "I think it's time, they should know. I'll go first, that day Mingyu left with Sora to meet me. Apparently, the guy Sora had left Gyu for turns out to be a douch. Won't go to the details but he kept blackmailing her, so desperate to save herself and afraid that I won't be meeting her if she went alone, she took him with her. I'm skipping the legal parts and that guy has been sort of taken care off. But that's not where it ends.", he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "The problem is that Sora wants him back now."

Gasps erupt through the room.

"Why did I see it coming though?", Seokmin says, "You have said no straight to her face right, Min?", he asks Mingyu.

The silence that follows horrifies every other one present in the room.

"Don't tell me...", Hansol trails off, eyeing his friend in utter disbelief.

"It's not what you're thinking.", Mingyu frowns, "I haven't said anything to Sora. But I have loved her for so long it's rolling back like a habit.", he hesitantly looks up and sees a bunch of disappointed faces, "But if it had been the previous me, I'd have gone to her in a snap but I'm changed now."

Mingyu gives a wry smile when looking at the relief washing over his friends.

"Here's the real deal begins. We have been married for over two years, in a few months we'd be hitting the three year mark. It's a long time right?", he sweeps his gaze across the large wedding frame of you both on the wall, "Instead of being a couple, I feel like living with a roommate. No feelings involved. She's stoic, nonchalant and even inconsiderate sometimes, even if I think that there's something between us, her actions act as bucket of cold water on those thoughts. I understand that not everyone is the same and I agree that Y/N has changed but somehow we're still at the starting point and it's starting to tire me out. Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to this marriage--"

There's a sudden thud and all the necks turn in unison only to find you standing by the hallway and your bag on the ground.

Heartbreak is one thing but the humiliation is another form of descend you're currently facing. You return your home only to find your husband shit talking about how unhappy he is in this marriage to his friends.

And the biggest loss turns out to be how you're the only one who thought that it's a happy, perfect marriage. Your husband isn't wrong when he said that you're inconsiderate.

Tears prick at your eyes but aren't you stoic, nonchalant so why should the people infront of you get the leverage to see you vulnerable? They shouldn't, so you pick up your bag and walk past them going straight into the guest room.

There are continuous knocks on the door. Your phone keeps ringing but you pay mind to none. Your mind only reels the words of your husband from before.

The previous you would have stomped out of the house but now, you can't. The situation has changed, the circumstances are different and you are totally lost.

Because there's a life is growing inside you. The reason you decided to return home tonight but your second attempt at letting Mingyu know that he's gonna be a father cracks again. The first attempt was the night where Mingyu chose Sora over you. He doesn't want you, would he want to raise a child with you?

Maybe you shouldn't have gotten married, maybe you shouldn't have fallen in love with your husband and maybe she's better, the previous you who knew you're undesirable, who knew that people like you are unlovable, who very well knew how to maintain a boundary.

You have lost the track of time but you sure can hear voices from the other side of the door. You think attachment is something you can't effort, you are not people's people.

So that's how what Mingyu had said, you turned into his roommate. Since that day, you have settled in the guest room. You don't get out of your room unless it's an emergency. You leave for work early and return home at late hours.

You haven't spoken to Mingyu since that day. You've rejected all his advances of striking a conversation. But you're thankful to him for making you food everyday because you can't eat anything else, it makes you nauseous.

"Hey, are you okay?", Minghao asks worried as he takes a sit beside you at the cafeteria of the office, "You have been throwing a lot."

You nod your head, avoiding his gaze, "I'm fine."

Minghao doesn't buy your words but you both settle in the comfortable silence and until he gasps.

You cock brows looking at him.

"Are you pregnant?", he gasps, "Oh my god."

You freeze and slap your hand over his mouth and proceed to tell him everything that has been happening.

"So Mingyu doesn't know yet. And he's being a jerk ever since his ex-girlfriend returned.", Minghao says in anger. He sweeps a gaze across your face and his eyes soften, "You love him, don't you?"

You avoid his gaze again, you don't answer him.

A sad smile graces on his lips as he reminiscences the past. How he had practically clinched himself in your life. How he had fallen in love with you but knew that you wouldn't reciprocate, the reason why he disappeared abruptly from your life years ago. The apologies are always on the tip of his tongue for leaving you alone, for creating the safe place but also leaving it void.

"You know you shouldn't be taking stress. I know it's not easy but I'd suggest for you both to sort things out, atleast for the baby.", he says patting your back in a comforting manner, "If Mingyu does anything to hurt you again, tell me I'll beat him for you."

"Thanks Hao.", you say smiling.

"Also let me know if Soonyoung bothers you. I'll handle him as well."

You shake your head laughing, "He insufferable Hao, you'll give up."

"We'll see that.", he smiles softly, "But do plan on telling him. Uncle also needs to know, he'd be so happy."

"I want the baby's father to know first. Then I'll tell everyone.", you assure him.

Mingyu knows he went overboard. He knows he was being an absolute asshole when he uttered those baseless words in your favour.

Maybe he should never have compared the type of relationship he had with Sora with the one he's having with you. It's a grave mistake and the lack of your presence is taking a toll on him. But he understands if you need space or even don't want to see his face. He's willing to give you all that but he plans to apologise to you and if you don't forgive him, he'd understand.

Work is hectic but the situation at home is feverish. He has been getting earfuls from all of his friends and family, specially Minhee. She has been giving him shit routinely.

His reverie breaks when he receives a text from you. Hurriedly opening the text, his eyes widen with a mixture of horror and anticipation.

'Come home as soon as possible. I have something to tell you.'

His mind could only hint at it being something ominous.

You pace around the entire house nervously.

"Mingyu, I'm pregnant. You're gonna be father."

You shake head at the selection of words.

"Congratulations! You're going to be a dad!"

Sounds too exciting for an unplanned pregnancy.

"You're pull out game was weak. Guess what I'm pregnant."

Too snappy, rejected.

"Kim Mingyu, you're pregnant, I will be-- wait what no-- I'm pregnant, we're expecting."

You sit down pulling your hair in frustration.

After another hundred million failed rehearsals you sort to say whatever your heart would feel like at the moment in his presence.

But where's Mingyu? You check the clock, it's past his work hours. Maybe he's running late for some reason. It's your third attempt to tell him about your pregnancy and you hope that you'd succeed this time.

Your phone rings and you would never have guessed that your world would come crashing down.

You stand with head your head bowed down the entire time at the funeral hall. The band wrapped around your arm acts as a constant reminder that you're the chief mourner. You don't raise your head, not ready the see the picture that's kept on the board.

The heart attack was so brutal that it claimed the life of your uncle without a chance of revival. When you were informed he was already gone.

No last words, no goodbyes. Now you're left with only his photo and memories. You walk into the room where his body is kept as you've made a special request to let you meet him before he's taken into the coffin.

He's almost unrecognisable as you sit beside the body. Gently caressing his head, you finally let the tears fall.

"You were so eager to meet everyone that you left me alone here.", you sob, "What do I do without you now?"

You caress his cheeks gently, "Whatever I have become it's because of you. Even though I was the reason they died, you took me in and raised me like our own."

"I have something to tell.", your hands place themselves back on his head, "I'm pregnant. You're gonna be a grandparent. Tell mom, dad and aunt that I have grown up. Tell Sejin that he's gonna be an uncle."

You spend some more last moments with your uncle before there's a knock on the door. You quickly wipe the tears and look up to see Mingyu standing at the threshold.

"It's time.", he says solemnly.

You nod and look back at your uncle saying, "Thank you for everything. Have a nice reunion with everyone up there. Forgive me if I have been a bad daughter. Goodbye comrade."

You don't like the pitiful look everyone throws at you. You hate it, it claws on your skin and you feel like throwing up. Running into the washroom, you sit down opening the lid to empty your stomach when you feel your hairs being pulled back in gentle grip.

It's Mingyu, you know even though even without seeing him. He doesn't care about entering a ladies washroom when he has to look for you.

"Here, drink some water.", he uncaps the bottle and offers it to you.

He's presence is somewhat comforting, he makes things bearable. Your uncle is laid beside the rest of your family and you request everyone to be left alone. It's night time when you leave the place only to see Mingyu waiting for you.

There's silence throughout the ride back to home, no words spoken when he makes you eat something he cooked when you were showering, unspoken words when you go back your room and he goes back to his.

You mourn for days and while you do so you take notice of a lot of things.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for that day. I didn't mean anything I said, I was just being an idiot.", Mingyu says after barging into your room one night because he had enough. He decides he won't let you suffer alone anymore.

You nod your head, "It's okay.", your short and curt reply doesn't settle well with your husband.

"I know one apology isn't enough and I understand if you won't forgive me but please let me be there for you.", he pleads closing the gap and taking your hands within his. His eyes searches for your face and his brows crease when he finds you avoiding eye contact.

You pull back your hands out of his grip, "I can take care of myself, Mingyu."

Your call of name rings oddly in his ear. It's rare for you to call him by name, it's always husband when throwing banter or Gyu while being affectionate.

Affectionate? His mind reels in the moment. Aren't you unexpressive then how could his mind produce that word in your wake?

"I'm tired. Let's call it a night.", you say poised, "There's no need for an apology. Everyone has the right to voice out about anything they don't like."

Mingyu feel like he's not your husband rather an office colleague. Your tone is so formal and dry. Your words cut him like a dagger. He wonders if he has caused damaged beyond repair.

It's so fucked up that he wants to hold you sleep, say sweet nothings to calm your senses but he's afraid to ask you to come back to the master bedroom.

So he lets you bask in your own company. He'll interfere with your personal space for sure one day, hustle in forcefully if you don't let him, no matter how rude and irritating it is, he'll mend the broken bond.

His heart breaks when he notices that you don't look him in the eyes anymore. You always had a strong lively gaze, but they are now hollow. You don't call him when you're struggling to open the jar, you don't ask for him when you can't reach something kept on the top shelf.

His friends are all dejected at how you don't indulge them anymore, they're sad at how they don't get to see you nowadays.

Mingyu had attempted to gauze you out of the coop by inviting the guys to the apartment. But you had locked yourself in the room the whole time.

His parents lament on how he ruined something so beautiful, his sister cries at how you don't communicate with even her nowadays.

He's already going crazy and Sora's pestering him by showing up outside his workplace often or making thousands of phone calls almost everyday, makes him ponder upon how was he even in love with her at some point.

He regrets again, now that he can clearly see the difference. You are you, the actual indifference you're showing is now and it's driving him crazy.

He wants to fix this. He needs to fix both of you because he needs you.

You're in the middle of some paperwork when there's a knock on the cabin door.

Soonyoung enters and the look that you give him is sharp enough to scare him off.

"How have you been doing?"

"Breathing fine, alive."

He should have taken the clue and left but it's Soonyoung and he lives as if he has nine lives.

"We miss you, please stop ghosting us."

"I'm not ghosting anyone."

"Minhee is miserable."

The writing stops, your hand halts for a moment before continuing. Soonyoung knocks on the table demanding your attention on him.

You sigh, having no option but look at him.

"You can be mad at your husband but we didn't do anything, Y/N. I don't even know Mingyu, I'm your friend."

The corner of your lips threaten to curl up. Your heart twinges and you smile sadly, "It's better to be prepared ahead so that you all will get accustomized to it later. Attachments are always painful."

Soonyoung looks at you quizzically, "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing.", you drew yourself back in the papers, "I have a meeting in ten minutes, I need to go over these documents before that."

Soonyoung maybe callous at times but somehow seeing you and hearing your words today makes him bothered.

Another weak passes and you are packing your bags the entire time little by little, unknown to Mingyu because your door is always locked. Your office room is almost empty except for the systems. When Mingyu's not at home, you roam in the bedroom, swaying in the memories you both made there. You lay on the bed, sniffing the pillows because they smell like him.

You crave his touch all the time and him being in your vision doesn't help at all when you could sense the longing in his eyes.

Mingyu doesn't know that you've stolen one of his shirts and a hoodie. He should never find out.

Your soul knows. It tells you that it’s time to distance yourself from those who no longer align with you mentally, emotionally or physically.

"I can't stay here.", you whisper to yourself as you continue to pack rest of the items.

"I'm cursed.", you frantically wipe your tears, "People related to me keep dying."

Your body shakes, eyes producing another batch of fresh tears, "No one should be associated with me. I need to cut everyone out of my life for their sake. Without me, they'd be safe."

You heave a breath, in an attempt to calm yourself, "Mingyu doesn't like me anyways. I'm just a burden. He'll be free once I leave, he can be with Sora.", you rub your chest as it stings, "He'll be happy and that is what I want."

Your gaze instinctively lands on your belly, hands gently rubbing circles, "I promise, even if we won't be together, me and your dad will try our best to raise you. I can't wait to meet you, to hold you."

Mingyu, on the other hand is set on winning you back. He knows you don't like anything extravagant, so he plans to surprise you out a romantic date at home. He's ready to go to the lengths to make you forgive him. He craves your presence, your touch, your shy smiles, the way you call him when you want something from him.

He wants to love you, wants to make love to you. He has been dreaming a lot about starting a family with you. He wants the little versions of you both running around the house. When his friends took the initiative to show him how he has changed and it's for better he knows that it's true. He wonders if all the frustrations were because his heart wasn't ready to seek out the real feelings.

But now he has figured it all out, he likes you, likes you a lot. So he wants this marriage to work out.

He hopes for you to like him back. So who's gonna tell him the truth?

Some free time at work and he's watching new recipes to cook for you. Before going to bed, he's open the phone gallery and goes over your pictures, the pictures which are candid, the ones in which you posed, the best where he's with you in them.

Would you like it, if he throws pebble at your window and serenades you at the middle of the night? Would it be a good idea if goes down on his knees because he hasn't done it before and know he wants to.

Mingyu is all giddy making up scenarios in his head. He wishes to watch them all happen successfully.

"Are you having mood swings?", Jeonghan asks him one day when everyone gathers at the former's home, "Or do you have dissociative identity disorder? You were regretting getting married to her some weeks back and now you're saying that you like her?"

Junhui is grumpy, he takes a look at Mingyu and smacks him hard on his head causing the later to scream out in pain.

"He claims he is the most closest to Y/N and he is grieving because she is not responding to his texts.", Seokmin clarifies and eyes Mingyu in disbelief, "Seriously dude, what's wrong with you? How can you mess up this bad?"

Before Mingyu could speak up, Hansol interjects, "How hard it is to sort out your feelings? How could you even utter such ridiculous things about her when you know how difficult it had been for her, the whole life. Now she even lost her uncle. Imagine listening to your husband yapping about how much he dislikes you when you think he is one you can lean on? And that too instead of voicing out your mind to her first, she heard you telling it to us."

Hansol is a calm man, he never loses his cool except for some situations and this being one of it.

"It's not only me and Jun. Everyone is upset.. I know I'm making it sound bigger, we know that she is your wife, first and our friend, second but we can see that even though she never shows it she cares a lot. I'll tell you no one has ever entertained me constantly to help me, not even you guys. She even suggested me tools that she thought might help me with the editing though she had to invest time on getting to that point. She gifted Jun a diffuser as the previous one was causing him throat irritation but he was too stubborn to discard a newly bought machine."

Seokmin adds up to Hansol, "Didn't she help you with the paperwork late at night even though you both work in an entirely different industry? I'm sorry but did Sora ever do that being in the same line of work? No right. If you would have noticed she has always tried to accomodate herself within us even when it was difficult, it was all new to her."

Mingyu sinks his face into the palm of his hands, as he says regretfully, "I made a huge mistake. I let my intrusive thoughts win and ended up hurting her."

"What if it's too late to fix things?", Soonyoung speaks, his vision dazed as your words from before keeps reeling in his mind, "You should resolve the matters before it's too late."

The following week is hectic for Mingyu. The clients are visiting and everyone has to stay late attending them. It's a whole damn hustle, draining the employees out. The week goes on and out with him spending most of the time in office when all he wants is to go home just to see your face.

It's the last day of the visit and Mingyu thanks the heavens. He's usually patient but now all he wants is to avail the comfort of his home.

It's around one at night but unlike other times the hallway is lit in dim lights flooding into the dining. There's an eerie silence and something unpleasant awaits.

"Let's get divorced."

When Mingyu came home late at that night to see you awake and waiting for him, there was an uncanny feeling that settled within.

Your hands are crossed, face void of any expression. He almost misses your words. If not for your next words, he would think he's hallucinating.

"We can decide on the terms and clauses, all as per your convenience.", you stress, "I do not expect any trouble from your side."

Mingyu finally registers everything you have said till now and everything hits him all at once.

"W-What are you talking about? Why do you want a divorce all of a sudden?"

Your monotonous tone rather asks him another question, "We have been married for over two years, nearing its third anniversary. Do you really want to be tied in this marriage?"

Though Mingyu thinks he doesn't know you well enough but he knows you enough to catch the wind of your words. He knows its not because of something he had said that day.

A familiar set of papers lying on the table catches his attention. His gaze then turns towards his office room and his suspicion confirms to be correct when he sees the door opened ajar.

"Why did you enter my office? I had clearly warned you about not doing so.", he says in a strict voice.

"That doesn't answer my question.", you say getting up, "Anyways it doesn't matter anymore. I'll get a lawyer, you get one too and proceed with the divorce. Oh, you already have Jeonghan."

As you turn back, you feel your husband's hand wrap around yours.

"How are you so calm? Why are you not asking me anything? Do I really mean nothing to you?", you hear his voice laced in frustration, "We are married for almost three years now and your cool headedness after, I'm assuming, knowing everything makes me aware of the fact that I really don't know you."

You jerk your hand out of his grip and turn back to look at him, "And how is that my fault? Maybe you've never tried to know me.", your voice drops another octave, "You can stop with the doting husband act now that I know the truth."

Mingyu doesn't miss the way your eyes show vulnerability for a moment. Your words strike a chord within him.

"You signed a contract with my uncle in exchange for marrying me.", you chuckle bitterly, "All you wanted was the stocks of the company uncle owned, a goddamn promotion, this house, everything else but me. I was never on the list. I was just a pawn. I don't know what my uncle saw in you to desperately marry me off to you. I hope all of this was worth it. The stocks must have passed down to you smoothly as it can only be acquired by someone working in the company. You can keep this house, keep everything."

"Y/N--"

"I don't wanna hear anything. I was waiting for you to come back so that I could make you aware that you're busted. I'll to go bed."

Mingyu reaches out for you again but you lay out a hand, "Please, I'm tired."

"O-Okay.", Mingyu backs down noticing the resignation in your demeanor, "But we're gonna talk it out tomorrow morning.", he sounds sincere when he says, "I'm sorry. I hope you'll give me a chance to explain everything."

But little does he know, you've already closed the room for any diversions, that you've decided to part ways with the person who has betrayed your trust.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.

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backwardsbread · 10 months ago

Text

Hazbin Hotel Characters:

~Marriage proposals~

Warnings‼️: genderneutral!reader, established relationship, characterxreader, lots of fluff, Valentino existing, mentions of cannibals/cannibalism, possessive behavior, pet names used, mentions of divorce, some swearing.

A/N: How would the Hazbin hotel characters propose! I might do a vise versa, where reader proposes. But this one is the characters proposing to YOU. Enjoy~!

This is pretty long- I don’t know how to find word count, but if anyone wants more, drop a request :))

?Semi proofread?

Lucifer:

This man is a NERVOUS WRECK.

When he realizes he wants to marry you, he lowkey panics. Starts acting like you guys just now started dating.

He’s super anxious, trying to impress you, and prove that he’s good enough for you.

(Whether he’s trying to prove that to you, or himself, is up for debate.)

The two of you met on a whim. You didn’t really know it was the king of hell you were talking to when you first met.

How could this be the king?? He was so goofy. His playful demeanor immediately drew you in.

With even learning about how Lucifer was, it didn’t stop those fuzzy feelings towards him that bubbled in your chest.

It took him a long time to even get into a relationship with you, due to him being caught up in his past with Lillith.

But overtime, your affection is what gets him through the tough days.

He gets all flustered and embarrassed at your sweet gestures, trying to hide the fact that he’s realizing he wants you to always only be his.

As we know, he had a previous marriage and that commitment failed him before. He had a right to feel nervous of the subject that once bruised his soul.

But in his heart, he truly knows this is what he wants. He wants to spend his eternity with you if you allowed him to.

When the thought has finally settled, and he knows he’s ready to try marriage again, it doesn’t settle his nerves.

This has to be PERFECT-

He needs the perfect ring, the perfect setting, the perfect outfit. All of which he had easy access to, he is the king afterall.

Yet, nothing seems to be perfect enough. Nothing is enough, nothing he can think of matches how strong his feelings are for you.

Once he thinks he’s decided on what will be perfect, he ditches the idea to try and come up with something better.

He consults Charlie on this issue a lot. Including her in this is very important to him. He makes sure she’s comfortable with the idea of him being married to someone who wasn’t her mother.

Charlie is a bit put off by the idea, it’s strange to think about. She never thought of her father getting remarried, but the thought doesn’t necessary upset her. She’s more worried about history repeating itself.

Overall, she wants her father to be happy, and helps him prepare for the proposal in any way she can.

(Mostly moral support because this guy is in emotional turmoil over this.)

He’s in a constant inbetween of if this was the right thing to do. Was it too soon in your guys relationship? Was it too soon after his divorce? Would you even want to spend the rest of your damnation with the one who started it all?

With heavy encouragement and reassurance from Charlie, he finally has the guts to ask you the big question.

But….. when he takes you out on the date where he meant to propose…

He chickens out. (Or ducks out haha)

“It is quite beautiful tonight.. you know I love you, right?……. Good! Yeah-! U-Uh-.. oh my golly! Look at the time! How that darn old thing does fly-Haha! W-We should head home!- boy am I tired-!”

Rinse and repeat this process a handful of times.

You do start to get a bit skeptical of your partners behavior. You guys had been going on extremely fancy dates at least once a week.

And while you had no complaints on spending time with Lucifer, you did notice his strange behavior.

The way his mood would incline before your guys’ date, and then suddenly decline when it was over. Then having to take the rest of the week to heal his pride.

It was just a big rollercoaster of emotions. You were starting to worry you were the cause of his stress.

(I mean. Technically you were)

During one of his many attempts in asking you, he had already internally given up when he stumbled over his words in the middle of dinner.

Your date was coming to a close, and like clockwork, Lucifer’s chipper mood deteriorated.

His shoulders slumped, he was pouty, and dragging his feet on the way back to the castle.

Before the two of you can enter, you grab Lucifer’s hand, stopping him. He gives you a confused look, posture straightening to look at you.

You give him small pecks all over his face, in hopes to cheer him up from whatever was troubling him.

Your actions have the affect you were hoping for, as he laughs and steals your lips into his own, a wide smile on his face as he rests his hands on your waist.

His nerves seemed to dissipate as he felt an overwhelming sense of security and love for you.

His body was moving before his mind could keep up. The moment just felt right.

He pulls away from your shared embrace, reaching into his pocket, and getting down on one knee. He opens the ring box, revealing the glimmering jewelry within it.

You look at him in shock and he returns the same look, surprised at his own actions. Well there was no backing out of it now- (saY SOMETHING LUCIFER-)

It takes him a few seconds to recover from the shock and he’s tempted to just pretend to tie his shoe. But you knew his intentions and watched the nerves wrack their way up his body once again.

Before he can even speak, give a speech he had rehearsed probably a hundred times in front of his mirror, you say yes.

And the relief that washes over this man— the weight that lifted off his shoulders in that moment— felt amazing.

You bend down with him, smiling ear to ear and chuckling as you realized this is why he was so worked up the past couple months.

Tears fill Lucifer’s eyes as he slides the piece of jewelry onto your ring finger.

You kiss away the tears that slip down his face and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug.

His tattered heart feeling stitched back together that day.

Alastor:

We all know Alastor isn’t the biggest on romance.

He’s a true gentleman, of course, but public displays of affection and intimate relationships weren’t his cup of tea.

The two of you had know each other for years in the afterlife, yet it was only recently you had put a label on your relationship.

Falling for you was never part of his plan.

He first saw you as an prey, only a possible soul he could claim for his ongoing collection.

But your sickening sweetness unfortunately grew on him over time. He once wanted to take advantage of it, but he became too fond of you to corrupt it.

You moved from his prey to his acquaintance.

You lived in cannibal town where he would frequently visit.

You join the gossip sessions with him and Rosie, indulging in their banter. It starts by you just walking by and throwing a comment towards their conversation you were listening in to. Eventually you had your own designated seat at their table.

Rosie definitely saw the potential the connection you and Alastor had, so she subtly pushes the two of you to hang out more.

This leads to your relationship advancing from mere acquaintances to good friends. The transition quick due to Rosie’s persistence.

Anytime Alastor would visit cannibal town, he would make effort to pay you a visit. He just felt so drawn to your company.

His smile felt less strained, his body would relax, and he could do what he wanted while you served up some fresh pinkie fingers.

There would be occasions of Alastor realizing he’s dropped his guard around you, and he would be snippy and aggressive those days. In fear of going soft and losing his mojo.

The first time he did this scared you,

(I mean obviously, the mans body grows two-ten times in his demon form)

But after a talk with Rosie about it, you tried to be understanding. Instead of falling away or distant with Alastor after his little tantrums, you simply waited it out. When he was back to normal asking softly if he wanted to talk about it or move on.

It wasn’t clear to you when you guys really started being affectionate towards one another. It just kind of happened.

You knew Alastor to be a gentleman before formally meeting him. So him linking arms with you, kissing your knuckles, holding open doors was nothing new.

It seemed like everyone besides the two of you knew the true feelings you two had for each other before you guys did.

You were holding hands, seeing each other everyday, Alastor would give you his coat to borrow on colder days, etc. Just small sweet gestures the two of you would share.

It took an incredible amount of time for Alastor to come to terms with his feelings. He hadn’t done this before and had no control of what his heart wanted. It was scary.

Putting a label on what you guys had didn’t seem necessary. The two of you knew what you meant to each other in an unspoken agreement.

(Rosie did eventually pressure him to actually ask you out however. It was the gentleman’s thing to do)

(But enough backstory)

More often than not, Alastor found himself spending his nights with you. Not to leave until the morning or midday after.

The two of you practically lived together when the overlord wasn’t too busy with other matters.

We already went over how the two of you weren’t big on labels. It wasn’t until Rosie asked that Alastor had even thought about marriage.

“Sooo… when are you going to put a rock on your pretty thang’s finger?”

“Hm? I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“What?? You’re kidding right? That darling and you have been together ages! You wouldn’t want someone else swiping them away from you, right?”

“Hah! Never going to happen. Who in their right mind would try that?”

“…”

“You do know where we are, right?”

It had never occurred to the Radio demon before. You guys had made your relationship official of course. Anyone else who would try and court you and take you away from him would be simply insane.

But the thought wormed itself into his brain and flourished.

The thought of not knowing what you were doing 24/7. The thought of someone possibly stealing you away without his knowledge.

The thought of some undeserving sinner having their hands on what belonged to him.

It irked him.

After that conversation with Rosie, say goodbye to your privacy. You’re not going anywhere alone. He can’t risk someone even attempting to steal you away.

It was irritating how he was always tracking you, keeping a shadow with you at all times.

If someone even dared to hold open a door for you that wasn’t him or his shadow, he’d show up at your side in an instant.

It made you anxious and overall, you felt your partner didn’t trust you.

You did express these feelings to Alastor, but your words seemed to phase right through him. You had no idea what had gotten into him to make him (even more) protective.

You joined him in bed one night, as he was stilling up, enjoying a book with jazz music emitting from his aura.

You cuddle close to him, the feeling of fuzzy static that enveloped you a comforter for your slumber.

Before you can let yourself drift off to sleep, your partner closes his book with one hand, the loud thump making you jolt.

“Say darling, what do you think of marriage?”

The sudden ask has you dumbfounded, giving him a deer in headlights stare. (Hah-)

He had never even mentioned marriage before yet here he was now, smiling at you as he waited for your response.

You give honesty, telling him you never really thought of it yourself and you were surprised to hear the idea from him.

You did mention how the subject didn’t draw you away. You knew you loved Alastor with your entire soul. Your heart and soul were his without one of his binding contracts.

Once he hears your approval he snaps his fingers making one of his shadows appear, holding out his signature red coat to him. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket, fishing out what he desired.

He pulled out a small box and handed it to you, his shadow dismissing itself from the scene.

You give him a confused look, before gently opening the box. Your eyes meeting the small band inside.

Oh- he was serious?????

You give him a puzzled look, while he just tilts his head at you, silently asking ‘too soon?’

Your eyes continue to track from the ring, to him, back to the ring, then back to him.

Your hesitation comes off as denial to Alastor, so he reaches out to take the box back. Before he can even lay a finger on it, you pull it to your chest protectively.

You give him a glare for even having the audacity to try and take this away from you. Your actions make him chuckle and hold his hands up defensively.

You slip the band onto your ring finger. Once it’s perfectly snug onto your digit, you pull your partner close to you, peppering his lips with small pecks. Scolding him in between your kisses for being so nonchalant.

He simply chuckles against your affections, telling you the ring will be a reminder you are always his.

And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Vox:

Vox is not one for settling down. No shot in hell.

Have you seen this man?? Holy hell take a chill pill.

A lot of Vox’s priorities lie with his work. He’s always pushing the boundaries of tech, eager to create something new and be on the face of it.

He never thought of dating. Being tied down to one person made him cringe. So the thought of marriage never even entered his system.

Then there was you of course. Messing up his plans.

How could he not fall for you? You were charming, beautiful, and down right too good for him.

(According to him.)

Your presence and the feelings you gave him made him feel threatened. He tried to put him a wall between the two of you, avoiding you at all costs.

But when he would look at his phone, seeing your icon pop up with messages to him. His fans would kick into gear, his cold heart ticking rapidly in his chest.

Yeah he had it BAD.

When you became a priority to him as well, it kind of threw a wrench in the balance of his schedule.

Yes he loves you but that fact scares him. He wasn’t exactly the safest demon to be around.

So he found it better that the two of you keep your relationship secret. Mostly spending early mornings and late nights with you.

It was difficult to manage. You wanted nothing more than to try hang out with your partner all day but he was always busy.

You would visit him at work, but on very rare occasion. You still owned your soul, which meant Valentino saw it as up for grabs, despite Vox’s warnings (threats) to not lay a finger on you.

As much as you enjoyed visiting your partner at work, you understood his reasonings for being uncomfortable with it.

Besides that, the chance of others seeing the two of you in public was way too high. You guys didn’t usually go on dates.

Your partner was more comfortable having you stay at home, having a double life without him. You lived with Vox, but outside of the time you two spent together, you had your own things going on.

Vox knew about it of course, he cares about you more than anything. He needs to know what’s going on at all times. And what you had going on outside of him was important to him.

He always has a screen pulled up in his monitor room while working. Just to see what you were up to.

The screen usually tracked a camera on you whenever you went out, it displayed your phone screen whenever it was in use, and showed your vitals on the bottom corner of the screen.

He didn’t trust the sinners that roamed these streets, rightfully so. Being able to track you gave him a source of comfort when he couldn’t always be around.

As mentioned before, going out on dates wasn’t really a thing. But Vox would usually clear up one day a month in his schedule. Just to spend the entire day with you.

(Of course he occasionally shuts down, checking how everything is going at V headquarters while he’s not around. Cant take this man entirely away from his work)

You’d spend those days cuddling, ordering in some takeout, and just catching up with each other. Getting in as much affection as you could.

The nights were soft and intimate. It was what you always looked forward to.

Vox had some things to do early morning on the day designated for the two of you. You did pout and complain to him, but he promised to be back as soon as he could.

Hours passed and you started to get a little bit peeved that your partner had yet to return home. Checking the time, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

You get dolled up, pack up a small container of snacks, and head to V’s headquarters.

Making your way through the crowd of demons and sinners. You head up the elevator, but it stops on Valentinos floor.

And with just your luck, the lustful demon is standing there, waiting to get on. When he sees your face, he grins wide and enters the elevator. Standing uncomfortably close.

He blows out his pink slut smoke into the small space, making you cringe and try to waft the stench away from you.

Valentino is touchy and that’s an understatement.

So when he bends down at your level, once again offering a job to you, your heart rate spikes.

Meanwhile, Vox is having a one sided argument with Velvette, the young overlord scolding him as she changed his outfit several times.

It wasn’t often Vox was used as a model for Velvette, but he had actually asked her ahead of time to design something special for you and him.

By ahead of time, he asked yesterday, not giving Velvette nearly enough time.

While he tuned out of his teammate reprimanding him, his watch buzzed, alerting him of your abnormal heart rate.

He gives a confused look, his screen going black for a second as he brought up his home security camera on his screen. When seeing you weren’t at the house, his eye twitched.

Where the hell did you go??

He was brought back, his face glitching in and out as he pulled out his phone, bringing up your location.

He saw how close you were and immediately thought the worst.

He zaps himself into the nearest camera, zipping through the electronics to find where you are.

Within a minute, he’s found you in the elevator, practically cornered by Valentino who was literally drooling on you.

The lights flicker in the elevator as it comes to a screeching halt. Cue your partner showing up with a crack of blue electricity, yanking Valentino away from you by the moth’s wing.

He puts himself in front of you, acting as a shield so you don’t have to be near Valentino’s poison.

“W̵̰̻͍̉̔̅̀̐͐͒͆̒̚ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ǎ̴̯̀͠t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ f̵̢̻͈̫̬̻͔̘̞͈̆̇̍̈̌͊ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓c̵̛̥͊k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓’r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅi̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕??”

(What the fuck do you think you’re doing??)

Vox’s voice glitched out, muted TV static layering his voice as the fans whirled in the back of his head. In a desperate attempt to cool him down.

Valentino doesn’t give much of a reaction, putting his hands up in feigned innocence.

“𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒱𝑜𝓍𝓍𝒾𝑒! 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻-“

“You better watch your mouth.”

“𝒪𝒽𝒽, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃’𝓉 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝓉. 𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝑔 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓈𝑒.”

Valentino speaks with sickening sarcasm. You look between the two, incredibly confused. Vox looks like he’s about to explode.

The lights flicker back on, and the door opens, Vox demanding his business partner leave.

The moth scowls at the both of you, before putting one set of hands on his hips, the other set of arms crossing across his chest. In the most sassy way possibly leave the two of you behind.

Vox waits for the elevator door to close before he can breath again. He’s muttering angrily to himself, one hand on either side of his screen as he tries not to blue screen.

You put your hand over his, his cold hand giving you a subtle shock of electricity as you touched him. You give him a concerned gaze, silently asking if he was okay.

Vox looks at you, shoulders relaxing just looking into your comforting eyes. Little bolts of electricity shoot out from the side of his screen as he tries to calm himself, his fans working overtime.

You set down the bag of treats you were bringing for him to hold his hands in your own. You give him a bright smile, concern not leaving your eyes.

You reassure him that whatever he had planned isn’t ruined. You could just pretend you didn’t know! You didn’t want this little run in to ruin your guys’ day.

You ramble on as he just stares at you, almost blankly, his screen fading from blue to a baby pink as he listened to you.

As you’re apologizing for causing trouble, he puts a hand up to stop your little speech.

He reaches into his pant pocket, pulling out a small halo shaped piece of jewelry. He holds your left hand in his own as he gets down on one knee in front of you.

I mean.. you knew he had a surprise planned, but seeing his actions didn’t fail to shock you.

He gives a little speech to you, stuttering and glitching over his words as he tries to explain himself.

For being a perfectionist overlord, this was one hell of a show.

He’s a blushing glitching mess, cursing to himself when he couldn’t find the exact words he wanted to say.

You grab the sides of his screen, looking him in the eyes and forcing him to meet your gaze. You’re saying yes before he can embarrass himself anymore.

He looks a bit shocked by your response, he can’t believe you said yes after that display he just put on. Before he can get the ring on your finger, he blue screens from shock and embarrassment.

You kind of chuckle and sit down beside your partner while you wait for him to reboot. Not like you could go anywhere with the elevator being stuck with the two of you inside. You do gently take the piece of jewlry, sliding it onto your finger and admiring its design.

Cuddling into Vox’s arm, you can’t help but smile brightly at the decorative piece snug on your ring finger.

It was perfect.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #vox x reader #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #alastor #the radio demon #lucifer morningstar #i swear I can write more characters #these are just my go too

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maisanshine · 1 year ago

Text

𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙇𝙀 𝙒𝙀 𝙒𝘼𝙄𝙏 |𝙅𝙅𝙆

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙅𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙠𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨, 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙨𝙤 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙪𝙮𝙨?

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜🝮 𝙛𝙬𝙗!𝙟𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙠𝙤𝙤𝙠/ 𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨🝮 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙨𝙩, 𝙢𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜?!????, 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙙 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨, 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩 (𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙞 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙡 171 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪) 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮, 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙥𝙞𝙚, 𝙨𝙦𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩, 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙙𝙤𝙜𝙜𝙮, 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙮, 𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮, 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙠, 𝙟𝙠 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙗𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚...𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙥 𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙥 𝙡𝙢𝙠 𝙞𝙛 𝙄 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜¯\_(ツ)_/¯

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩; 5.6𝙠

(𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙧𝙧𝙮)

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Seated on the edge of your bed, you are gazing at your reflection in the mirror located across the room. You are naked, your body is aching, your arms are looking for warmth, and your thoughts are having a field day in your mind.

You have dried-up cum on the side of your face from an hour ago. You stare at yourself, questioning what is going on. Why did you land yourself here? As you continue to gaze at your reflection, a mix of confusion and regret washes over you. Thoughts race through your mind, trying to piece together the events that led to this moment. You wonder if there was a deeper reason behind your choices or if it was simply a series of impulsive actions.

On the other hand, Jungkook is in the shower, and you sit there crying. Silently, because you don't let him hear or see. You can't let him see you like this. You feel a sense of vulnerability, realizing that you've been hiding your emotions from Jungkook. The weight of your tears becomes heavier as you question whether you should open up to him and share the turmoil within your heart.

But then it will lead to a hell of a lot of questions that you won't answer truthfully.

"Why are you crying?"

You will probably lie. You don't want to burden him with your problems or make him worry. The fear of judgment and rejection keeps you from being honest about your feelings, even though, deep down, you long for his understanding and support.

"Nothing, just an aftershock, I guess."

He'll laugh and get back to what he always does. You'll continue to hide your emotions, putting on a brave face and pretending that everything is okay. He takes his shower, puts on his clothes, and walks out without even a side-eye.

The cycle of bottling up your feelings and avoiding vulnerability will persist, leaving you feeling isolated and misunderstood.

But that's what you two created—a no I talk, and you listen to relationships. It's cold and distant; the only heat you two create is in bed. Or whatever ratchet hookup you are in at the moment.

Like a married couple on the brink of divorce, they are only together for their kids.

But you and Jungkook aren't married. Probably won't get married. Most definitely, at this point, you will not become his girlfriend either. It's been two years since this started.

You, Jungkook, aren't even friends. Your guys are just benefits. It was rather simple, really. How this all started

2 years ago…

You sit at the bar and have your second drink, which you've never had in your life. You unwillingly took a shot at your birthday party that was two days ago.

You still have the yellow Martini flicking at the bottom of the glass. You don't drink it; you just look at it. Playing with a toothpick and mixing a drink around as if it were going to change color

"Drink it; it's not going to change colors." You turn to your left and see a man sitting two seats down from you. Smiling, you answer, "I know, it just looks weird." He turns to you, and dark, rich brown eyes stare into yours.

"What does it look like?" He asks, and you're too quick to answer.

"A shot of piss." He laughs from his seat. You push the drink away, and 27 dollars go down the drain.

"Well, let me buy you a real drink, not a shot of piss," he says again. You look at him, admiring his presence.

A tall, full sleeve of tattoos. Two lips ring. You're just begging to see how they feel about you. On your lips, your thighs, and your core

You smile after scanning every part of him with pleasure. "Sure, you probably know more about drinks than me." He smiles. You stand up, pulling your skirt down, and his gaze falls to your legs.

You sit in the chair next to him, and he leans his head on his knuckles as his eyes travel up your body.

"What are you staring at so hard? You never talked to a girl before." He smiles again, and this time you see the tiny amount of his teeth he flashes straight and white.

"I've talked to girls, but not a woman." Your face heats up.

"Women?" You play with his words, and he leans in closer.

"Girls are lovely, but women are amazing." You sit in the chair. You later lay your feet on the footrest of his chair, tapping against it.

"Do you see me as a woman?" He lifts his hand, calling the bartender.

"We'll see after this drink; I'll make up my mind after," he says, ordering you two Amarettos. You don't know what the fuck that is, but it was pretty.

The bartender puts the orange drink in front of you guys. The orange tones get lighter as they meet the top. You take the toothpick with the three grapes, bite one, and dip the toothpick into the drink.

"To women," the man picks on his glass for a cheer.

"To women," you say before him. He drinks about half of the drink, not breaking eye contact as you do it as well.

Present time…

You smile at the flashback, remembering how much you wanted him at that moment. Now you just want to end this. Or move forward. But you are stuck in the middle.

You think about how you read him like a book, and he wanted to see if you knew what he was thinking about at that moment.

But it was far too easy since Jungkook was undressing you with his eyes.

2 years ago…

"What am I thinking about right now?"

"I think you want to kiss me," you answer, and he smiles brightly.

"Yeah, I'm dying to...do you want me to kiss you?"

"What you do think": You play with fire, and you want it to burn you so badly.

He leans in closer and says, "By the way you're clenching your legs together and this tiny fucking skirt, I think you want what I want." His lips are closer than ever, your mutual breaths hitting the surface of each other's lips.

"What if I told you you were correct?" He places his warm hand on your shoulder.

"Then I think we shouldn't waste any time; the world is here for a reason." You smile as his lips touch yours with the softest peck.

You stand up and grab your sweater and your bag, holding his hand.

He moves swiftly, cashing out a $100 bill and placing it on the bar table.

You walk out of the bar, leading to the parking lot.

Present time…

Jungkook walks out of your bathroom. He still sees that you are naked. Sitting there, staring in the mirror.

Jungkook isn't dying to stay; he knows you want to hold him. And talk about the most random shit. But he can't; he doesn't want to hurt you.

It's been two years; why would he start hanging around after sex now? It will look like he's in love.

Unfortunately, he isn't

That's his truth; he's infatuated with you. Jungkook thinks about your guy's relationship a lot.

You guys aren't friends.

You guys are not dating.

You practically only get each other off.

And he doesn't like to hold any conversations; he barely knows your full name.

He is sleeping with a stranger, and he's been sleeping with a stranger for the last two years.

When he thinks about it, he feels shitty at the fact that he can't even hold a simple conversation with you, and it's not like you've tried either. You guys only hold a conversation in the middle of sex.

But after that, there's nothing besides the hi's at either door.

Jungkook was a fuckboy.

He would sleep with multiple women at the same time—two or three—never over, but when he slept with you, he found himself only sleeping with you. It wasn't like him; he found it weird and scary.

He would try to engage in conversation with other women, but it never turned him on because he would only think about you and your face and how much he loved having you under him, breathing and panting on him.

He loves feeling the hot breath of you begging for him to cum on his shoulders or his chest on the side of his face when he has your knees pressing against your shoulders, looking for air to breathe.

Or he loved it when he had you with your face buried in the pillows and your muffled moans coming out from under the blocks of sheets under your face.

Or how you want to drag your nails down his bag and leave four or five scratches on him that he will realize when his friends point them out in the gym.

When he started realizing all the shit he loved about being with you, he started to distance himself. He tried to detox away from you, but when he saw you tonight at that party with those pants that molded to your lower body like a second skin, he couldn't hold himself. He texted you, and now he ended up here, watching you, staring at yourself in the mirror with dry cum on the side of your face, naked, lost in your mind, and standing on the other side of the room. Also lost in his mind.

This is the first time you and Jungkook have slept together in the last three weeks. What happened in those three weeks, you might ask? Jungkook was having a shitfest when it came to hooking up with other girls.

Either he couldn't get it up or he would have a conversation with a girl and immediately get turned off, and he would open his phone, looking at your name as the first message on his message board, and his fingers would itch so bad to send a simple text for you to come over or for him to come to you? But he pushed for three weeks, and today it broke.

Jungkook finally gets all of his clothes on, and he walks past you, walking out of your door without a word, just like all the other times, even though he always comes intending to stay but loses it after he cums it out of his system. As he steps outside, a wave of regret washes over him, knowing that he's once again let his fear and insecurities get the best of him. He wonders if this cycle will ever end and if he'll ever find the courage to truly open up and let you in.

2 weeks later

You sit in the library, digging your nails into your books for your exam this Friday. Jungkook texted you about four times today, but you haven't responded. You don't need any distractions this week. You respond to him after your exam is over, but when you see Jungkook walking into the library, heading straight forward, you panic.

"Hey, I've been texting you," he says, putting his hand on your shoulder.

"Yeah, I know," you say dryly.

"I want you," he smirks, and you roll your eyes.

Him and his dumb fucking smirk.

"Jungkook..." you cut off as he brushed his hand across your face. "You don't want me anymore?"

"I can't" You stand and look at him, but then you shut yourself down.

You pick up your things, telling him you are going home.

"I'll give you a ride," he says, holding your shoulders and walking you to his car.

He sits in the car and drives off. It's a long drive—about 20 to 30 minutes. You guys sitting in an empty parking garage.

"This isn't my house." Jungkook sits, gripping his steering wheel, and you play with the tips of your fingers.

You don't look at him; he just looks at you and sits there, picking off your nail polish. You can feel his stare or burn it to the side of your face.

"Tell me something," he starts, and you already want the conversation to be over.

"Do you want this?"

"Do I want what?" You know exactly what he's talking about. Do you still want this bullshit-ass relationship? A huge part of you says no, but then the other part of you says yes.

You're so conflicted because you both are at fault. You both never resolved this dilemma. You guys never strived to make this relationship better than it was, and now it's going downhill from what this conversation looks like.

"I don't know JungKook."

You sit there in silence. The silence is so deafening, and you can hear the cars under you driving past you and the monochromatic noise of everything else around you. The weight of the unspoken words hangs heavily in the air, intensifying the tension between you. It's as if the silence is a reflection of the deep-seated issues that have been left unaddressed for far too long.

"Can you say something?" You say, but Jungkook just breathes.

"You said you couldn't do this anymore, so I guess it's over." That's all he says. You nod, looking out the window, and your heart hurts a little bit. The familiar scenery outside seems to blur as tears well up in your eyes. It's a painful realization that this chapter of your life has come to an end, leaving you with a bittersweet mix of emotions.

"Well, then, I guess this is goodbye," you say. You try to get out of the car. You suffocate, and you need to breathe so that you don't feel like your heart is going to explode any second now. As you struggle to open the car door, your mind races with memories of happier times shared together. The weight of the goodbye hangs heavy in the air, and you can't help but wonder if there's a chance for reconciliation in the future.

"Don't do that," he says, grabbing your hand. He touches your face, swiping hair out of the way.

He brings you in, and the next thing you know, you kiss him, and your hands are in his hair. Your body is grinding into his dick. In that moment, the intensity of your emotions takes over, momentarily erasing the pain and uncertainty. The connection between you feels electric, as if time stands still, and for a brief moment, you find solace in each other's arms.

Jungkook breaks the kiss. But you don't want him to speak. You kiss him hard and deep. You do not want this to end. You grind into him, and he pulls your shirt up.

Sucking on your nipples, he plays and fondles with your breast. He grips them, squeezes them hard, and pinches your nipples. His touch sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, intensifying the connection between you. As you moan in delight, he continues to explore every inch of your body, leaving you craving more. You let out a whimper, and he sees your hands working towards his belt.

Fighting to get it off, when you finally don't stop looking at his hard cock, he smirks and guides your hand towards it, allowing you to feel its throbbing heat. It sits against his stomach. Jungkook pushes your underwear to the side, running his long, trusted fingers along your soaked folds. Your body trembles with anticipation as Jungkook's skilled touch ignites a fiery desire within you. Each stroke of his fingers sends waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, intensifying the hunger that consumes you. As he expertly explores your most sensitive spots, you can't help but arch your back and gasp for more, surrendering completely to the electrifying connection between you both.

You moan at the sensation grinding onto his fingers as he slips one inside of you, thrusting in and out. He slows up, but you grab his wrist, guiding him to go faster. He wants this to last as long as possible because this is probably the last time you'll ever touch him. He continues to please you as you look at his shaft leaning against his stomach, the smooth, long vein bulging. You look at it hard because this is the last time you are going to see it. You touch his tip, running your finger over his slightly red tip.

But then you feel the waterworks; tiny teardrops fall from your eyes onto his abdomen. Jungkook stops his movement, but before he can open his mouth and speak, You take his hand out of your swollen cunt and replace it with his cock. Jungkook groans as you wrap yourself around him so wet and perfectly, and he starts to grind on him back and forth, shifting to the point of your knees and thrusting up and down on him. You grasp onto his shoulder so hard that you are probably cutting skin, but you don't stop. You're not doing it to come faster. You just want to forget about the situation, so you rock yourself on him harder and harder, taking complete control of the situation.

Jungkook is under you, groaning harshly as he grabs your hips, smacking your ass, and playing with the plush skin. He sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, swelling his tongue around the pebbled nub. As you ride him to his finish, Jungkook finds your actions a little bit weird because you usually always want him to go slowly. The car is moving as you ride him faster, but he grips your hips so hard so you can stop, and you cry frustration as he pushes you down on his dick so you can stop your sudden rough movements, but you punch his shoulders, your tears spilling from your face, and Jungkook realizes that you're crying.

"What's wrong? Why are you being so rough?" He says it in confusion, and you stop and open your eyes to look at him. You look at him deadpan in his dark chocolate eyes and the way his lip rings shine at you.

"Don't act like you don't like it, Jungkook." You try to grind on him, but he stops you, and you've grown frustrated. "I don't like this," he says, and you take your hands off his shoulders, wiping your face.

"Jungkook, you're turning me the fuck off, and this is the end, so just fuck me so you can take me home, and I don't ever have to see you again." The words sting, but you both know that it's the truth; he said that it's the end, so why is he being so fucking weird about it?

"But I feel like you're..."

"You don't know what I feel." You say in a hushed whisper as your head falls on his shoulders and you're breathing so hard because you're about to come into contact with him. "Can you just cum already?" You say this, and you lift your head off his shoulders to look at him in the face. Jungkook's face is stoned, and he looks angry.

"Fine" Jungkook swipes his hand over the lever on the side of his seat to push his seat all the way down until it's touching his backseat. He adjusts himself, laying back, and starts pounding into you rough and fast, your gas at the sensation gripping onto his shoulders and dancing your fingers into his skin.

Jungkook thrusts hard as hell into your fast-paced body as you grind on top of him and have You lose your breath. He reaches up, wrapping his hands around your neck, choking you hard, and you gasp, feeling barely any air circulation into your throat. "You want me to fuck you? Fine." Jungkook later grabs your hips and throws you onto the back of the seat. He picks up your legs, pushing your knees to touch your shoulder and your ass lips a little bit as he thrusts his on top of you, the car shaking with his setting, pounding into you hard, fast, and slightly painful.

"I should fuck your ass so you can lose your fucking attitude." Jungkook groans, and he rims his finger against your other hole, and you shake at the sensation. As the intensity of the moment grows, your mind becomes a whirlwind of conflicting desires. The mix of pleasure and pain sends shivers down your spine, leaving you craving more. Jungkook's dominance over you is both exhilarating and overwhelming, pushing you to the edge of ecstasy. Your mind is losing all sense of reality. He takes his finger and pushes it into your ass, slowing and just touching the tip, but you move slightly, causing his finger to slip out.

You're on the seat moaning at his harsh movement, but this is what you asked for. You asked for this to be done, and even though it's ugly, it's not going to happen ever again, so you let it happen. Jungkook's hand is still around your throat; his other hand is holding up your legs as he thrusts faster into you, clenching around his cock. You brush your hand against his abs, but Jungkook lets go of your throat, grasping your hands and putting them above your head so you don't touch him.

He continues his thrust on your sensational building; you're about to come, but then Jungkook stops flipping you over and hikes your ass up to his waist as he slams into you again, taking you from the back. He pushes your head into the car seat, and you're moaning. You're so close, but your body is pulsing in your clit. You've never felt this way before. Your heart is pumping, your cunt is clenching, and Jungkook's harsh threats are bumping into your body, pushing forward every single time he pushes forward and back.

You gasp as you come. The wet liquid flies out of you as you shake and your legs give out as you drop onto the car seat in an uncomfortable position if you could continue fucking you, and you let him until he comes. Jungkook's stomach burns as he lets out his long, treacherous ropes of cum. Paint your walls inside of you; he's never come inside of you. You guys usually use condoms, or he comes on to another part of your body.

He slows down his movement, thrusting two or three more times before he pulls out. He realizes that you squirted all over his car seat, and you lay on the driver's seat, your head tucked into your arms, and you sniffle. You're crying under him, and he doesn't know what to do.

Jungkook goes to comfort you, but he pulls his hand back, fixing himself as he picks you up, turns you over, and adjusts your clothes.

There's no speaking. There's no aftercare; there's nothing.

You realize that it's over, and you move to the passenger seat, putting on your seatbelt, as Jungkook takes a shirt from the back of his car, wiping the fluid off his seat.

You sit in the passenger seat with your tiered stand cheeks facing the window as Jungkook pulls out of the parking lot, taking you home. You're at the front of your apartment complex, and you get your things by walking out of Jungkook's car.

Turn around, shutting his car door before it completely shuts. You lean out, giving him a shy smile.

"Jeon Jungkook, I love you." Jungkook's head whips towards you, but before he can get a word out, you shut his car door and walk into your dorm building.

4 months later.

"Y/N" Your friend Lena causes you over at the section that she sits in at the house party. Exam week is finally over, and you've passed all your tests. Your roommate Lena pushed you out of the house, and you decided to go since you didn't have anything better to do.

You walk in hand with Jimin, and you introduce him to your friends. After a few cups of beer and some talking, you decide to excuse yourself to the bathroom.

You walk upstairs looking for the bathroom, and you stand at the door, and surprisingly, there's no line.

When the door opens, you see the one and only Jungkook walking out of the bathroom with another girl. You're shocked, and Jungkook is more shocked than you because the last time you saw him, you told him that you loved him, and you didn't let him get a word out before you rushed into your dorm and cried for three weeks straight.

The girl is holding his hand, and she looks fucked out, and you already know what he was doing in there. He does what he always does. Sorry, you say in a hushed whisper, and Jungkook just stands in the frame of the door, looking at you. Do you feel his stairs burn into your body? You haven't seen Jungkook in about four months; it kind of felt like he walked off the side of the planet.

But now he stands in front of you; his hair is a lot longer, but you know he's the same boy that you loved and that you still love.

You try and walk into the bathroom, but Jungkook lets go of the girl's hand grasping onto your shoulders. "Aren't we going?" the girl says behind him, and Jungkook looks behind her, shifting his head to the side as the girl moves out of the bathroom. She scuffs, running down the stairs, calling him an asshole, and you stare at him calmly and collectedly.

"How are you?" he says, and you shrug, not wanting to engage in a conversation with him.

"I'm doing good, you."

"I've been better," he says, and he smiles a little bit.

"You look good. You're glowing." He laughs, and you smile, nodding your head. "Maybe it's the sensation of having to pee right now."

"Yeah." That's all he says.

Then he looks at you with an apologetic look on his face and says, "You know Y/N." But then he's cut off by Jimin coming in next to you. You smile at Jimin as he takes your hand in his

"I was looking for you, babe." Jimin kisses the side of your head, and Jungkook looks distraught.

"Yeah, I came to use the bathroom, but I ran into an old friend here." You say you are leaning your head on Jimin's shoulder, but the tension between you and Jungkook is so active in general that you don't know how to feel in the moment.

"Jimin, this is Jungkook Jungkook. This is Jimin, my boyfriend." It's kind of a little bit asshole of you to introduce your ex-fuck buddy to your boyfriend, but if Jungkook walked out of the bathroom and mined his business walking right past you with his fuck at the moment, this wouldn't have been his situation.

You and Jimin have been official for two days. Do you like him? No, he's nice to you, he treats you right, and you're hoping that you can forget about Jungkook and move forward with him.

"Nice to meet you, man," Jimin And Jungkook shakes hands, and Jungkook is still in the distraught sequence.

"Well, I'll leave you two talking here because I have to pee." You move Jungkook out of the way, setting the door behind them as you trap yourself in the bathroom.

You look at yourself in the mirror, your eyes wide in shock, and you laugh a little bit to calm your anxiety.

When you walk out of the bathroom a few minutes later, Jimin stands outside alone.

"Where did Jungkook go?" you ask. Jimin shrugs his shoulders. He left, saying he had to go fix something at his apartment or whatever.

You smile, take Jimin's hand, and walk out of the party to get food.

You make it to your house with Jimin, and he decides to stay over. You guys eat your takeout, take a shower, and head to bed. As Jimin is still in the bathroom, you see your phone light up with a text message with a name that you haven't seen in months.

JK: Can I talk to you tomorrow?

You pick up your phone and decide whether you should ignore it, block him, or do both. But you give yourself the closure that you've been wanting for the last four months, so you can close that chapter of your life and continue to do something better.

Y/N: Yeah, sure",

You sent a text message, going to bed with Jimin.

You walk to the coffee shop the next day, sitting Jungkook is sitting in the far back corner, dressed in all black and with a Calvin Klein hat on his head. You smile, sitting on the opposite side of the table.

Hello, you say, and you sit down, removing your bag and putting it on the seat next to you.

"Hey, I'll just get straight to the point." You're nodding, and he continues to speak.

"I didn't like how we ended a few months ago. I felt very guilty, and I would lie to myself and say that I didn't miss you because I do, and I'm not telling you this just because you're with your boyfriend now, but I'm happy for you. I know I was an asshole to you, and it's probably very mean of me to sit here and tell you all of this today, but I feel like we both deserve closure."

You nod agreeing. "Yeah, sorry, I left you on that cliffhanger there. I was just going through a lot, and I didn't know if I wanted to end it or try and salvage what we had, but it was just so cold, so I just decided to end it without consulting you. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too. I hope you're happy, and maybe we can be cool." You nod, smiling, and Jungkook reaches for your hand and brushes his warm fingers above yours. You give in, holding onto his hand, and this is the conversation that you would want to have months ago, but instead of giving each other closure at the end of the day, you wanted to be with him, and in the back of your brain, you still do. You love Jungkook, and you have love for him. You will miss his body, all the warmth he provided to you, and your cold relationship.

But this is a growing path for you, so you accept the faith you decided to walk through, letting your life go on. Jungkook could deal with his life by himself, but now that the tension is released, you let go of his hand, and you both stand up, but you look at each other in the eyes, seeing the admiration. You smile and hold out your hand, seeing if he would accept a hug—a friendship hug—because you guys were never friends, just a benefit.

"Thank you for this. I hope you find somebody, Jungkook." It's a bittersweet moment, and Jungkook takes his last cent of you because it's the first and last time that he will ever hold you like this.

"I love you too, Y/N." Then he lets go of the hug, and now you're the one in shock. He walks out the door, and once he's out of the building, he gives you a solemn wave and enters his car. Your heart is pumping in your chest, and it feels like you're right back to the moment you walked out of his car, and all of this happened with no fucking closure at all because you know that he loves you.

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

𝙎𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜(☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 2?!?!????

#@ᴍᴀɪsᴀɴsʜɪɴᴇ #bts #bts jungkook #bts smut #bts x reader #jeon jungguk #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook seven #jungkook smut #dom jungkook #bts jeon jungkook

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morbidology · 5 months ago

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On May 1, 1947, Evelyn McHale, a 23-year-old woman, leapt to her death from the 86th-floor observation deck of the Empire State Building in New York City. Her death, immortalized by a haunting photograph, became one of the most iconic images of the 20th century and is often referred to as "the most beautiful suicide."

Evelyn McHale was born on September 20, 1923, in Berkeley, California. After her parents' divorce, she moved to Tuckahoe, New York, with her father and siblings. Evelyn joined the Women's Army Corps and was stationed in Jefferson City, Missouri, during World War II. After her service, she moved to New York City, where she worked as a bookkeeper at the Kitab Engraving Company.

Evelyn was engaged to Barry Rhodes, a college student and ex-GI who lived in Pennsylvania. The couple planned to marry, and by all accounts, their relationship appeared happy and stable. However, beneath the surface, Evelyn struggled with deep emotional turmoil.

On the morning of May 1, 1947, Evelyn visited Barry in Pennsylvania to celebrate his birthday. After returning to New York City, she went to the Empire State Building. She bought a ticket to the observation deck and, after spending a few moments there, climbed over the railing and jumped.

Evelyn's body landed on the roof of a United Nations limousine parked on 34th Street. Just minutes after her death, photography student Robert Wiles happened to be nearby and captured an eerily serene photograph of her body. In the image, Evelyn appears to be peacefully asleep, her legs crossed at the ankles, with one hand clutching her pearl necklace.

This photograph was published in Life magazine and quickly became famous. The haunting image, combined with the apparent calmness and beauty of Evelyn's repose, led to it being dubbed "the most beautiful suicide."

Evelyn left behind a suicide note, found in her purse at the observation deck. In it, she expressed her deep despair and requested that her body not be viewed or held in a public funeral. She wrote:

"I don’t want anyone in or out of my family to see any part of me. Could you destroy my body by cremation? I beg of you and my family – don’t have any service for me or remembrance for me. My fiancé asked me to marry him in June. I don’t think I would make a good wife for anybody. He is much better off without me. Tell my father, I have too many of my mother’s tendencies."

#evelyn mchale #suicide #depression #photography #morbid #sad

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seungminsbaldspot · 4 months ago

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

pairing: five hargreaves x reader

Word Count: 3805

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: Infidelity and Betrayal: References to an affair and its emotional fallout, Emotional Turmoil: Repeated cycles of using others for support followed by pain, Unwanted Pregnancy: Discussion of a potential pregnancy with uncertain paternity, Conflict and Blame: Arguments and blame related to the affair and its effects,Intense Conversations: Emotional discussions filled with guilt, regret, and frustration, Relationship Breakdown: Decision to take a break from a relationship due to ongoing issues, and Self-Destructive Patterns: Seeking comfort in a way that leads to more distress.

Author’s note: I think if I could give this fic a song, I think it would be 'don't speak - no doubt’

Taglist:(comment if you wanna be added) @fate-posts

Spoiler: All you get is, there will be a part 4

Click here for part four !

Click here for the previous part two!

It's been a few weeks of this cycle: you using Five whenever the loneliness and anger become too much to bear, then pushing him away, crying in the aftermath, and repeating the cycle. Each encounter is a mix of bitterness and need, a desperate attempt to fill the void left by his betrayal while simultaneously punishing him for it.

Every time, you find solace in his presence, yet the relief is fleeting. The passion you once shared has become a battleground, where your emotions clash and your pain is laid bare. Afterward, as you watch him leave, you are left with a profound sense of emptiness, the tears you shed a stark reminder of the unresolved hurt that still lingers.

Even though this cycle is far from ideal for either of you, it has provided a certain measure of relief. Diego and Lila seem to be finding their way back to happiness, and as for you and Five—well, you’re not divorced, but it's hard to say if what you share can still be called a marriage.

It’s more of a fuck-buddy system now, with you being the only one reaching out. You start to wonder if Five ever gets tired of this arrangement. A flicker of sympathy for him crosses your mind, but it quickly fades when you remember the betrayal. He cheated on you—with his brother’s wife.

A knock on your bedroom door reels your out of your thoughts.

You open the bedroom door to find Lila standing there, her expression a mix of concern and resolve. She’s dressed casually, but there’s a seriousness in her posture that catches your attention.

“Hey,” she begins, her voice tentative but steady. “I was wondering if we could talk.” You nod, stepping aside to let her in. She walks into the room, glancing around as if taking in the remnants of your own turmoil. You close the door behind her, feeling a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Lila takes a seat on the edge of your bed, her eyes meeting yours with a searching look. “I know things have been... complicated between us,” she starts, her voice gentle. “And I know that everything with Diego and Five has been tough on you. But I think it’s time we had an honest conversation.”

You sit down across from her, your mind racing with the possible reasons for her visit. Her sincerity and the weight of her words prompt you to brace yourself for what’s to come.

“First off, I want to say I’m sorry,” Lila begins, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m sorry for allowing what happened to happen.”You throw your hand up, shaking your head in frustration. “It takes two to tango, Lila. It wasn’t just you. It wasn’t just him.”

She nods, her eyes reflecting a mix of guilt and regret. “I know, but still…” She trails off, lost in thought for a moment. After a deep breath, she looks at you with a conflicted expression. “I’m not sure if telling you this is going to be a good idea.”

Your eyebrows furrow, curiosity and concern mingling in your gaze. “What do you mean? If there’s something you need to say, just say it.”

Lila hesitates, her eyes darting away, and then finally meets your gaze again. “I think I’m pregnant.”

The words hang heavy in the air between you, each syllable carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken fears and uncertainties. You stare at her, your mind racing as you try to process what she’s just said. The room feels suddenly smaller, the tension could be cut with a knife .

I—” You start, but no words come out. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Are you sure?” Lila nods, her expression a mix of fear and resignation. “I’ve taken a few tests, and they’ve all been positive. I haven’t told Diego yet. I wasn’t sure how or when to bring it up.”

You run your hand through your hair, sitting in silence and shock. The room feels like it’s closing in around you. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know how far along I am. And there may be a slight chance… that… Five could maybe be the father.”

The weight of her words lands heavily on you, the implications sprawling out in every direction. Your mind races through the possibilities, each one more tangled and complicated than the last.

“Five?” you repeat, trying to grasp the full extent of what she’s saying. “You think… there’s a chance this could be Five’s baby?” Lila’s eyes are filled with a mix of regret and uncertainty. “I don’t know for sure, but I dunno, with the timing of everything, It could be his.”

You sit in stunned silence, struggling to process the revelation. “This is... a lot. I mean, Five and I, we’ve been—”

“Using each other,” Lila finishes for you, her voice barely a whisper. You sigh, your shoulders slumping under the weight of the revelation. “This—this is a lot, Lila. I don’t even know what to say,” you admit, feeling utterly defeated.

She nods, her eyes reflecting her own fear and regret. “I know... I’m sorry. I just wanted to be honest. I’m terrified of what this means for Diego and me, and for you and Five.”

You shake your head, trying to wrap your mind around the enormity of what Lila just shared. “I’m not sure why you’re telling me this, Lila.” Your voice is steadier than you feel, masking the chaos that’s erupting inside of you.

Lila takes a deep breath, her hands twisting in her lap. “Because you deserved to know the truth. I thought... maybe if we’re honest with each other, we can figure out what to do next.” Her voice wavers, but there's a glimmer of determination in her eyes.

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound escaping before you can stop it. “And what exactly is there to figure out, Lila? We wait. We wait for this child to grow enough to get a paternity test, and then we deal with whatever the hell happens afterwards.”

Lila flinches at the harshness of your words, her expression a mix of guilt and resolve. “I know it’s not that simple,” she says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But what else can we do? I just wanted to be honest with you, to try and make things right somehow. I don’t want any more secrets between us.”

You shake your head, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you. “You think being honest makes up for any of this? You think it undoes the fact that you two fucked?” Your words come out sharper than you intended, the anger being unable to be contained.

Lila's face crumples, her eyes welling up with tears as she looks down, unable to meet your gaze. “No,” she admits, her voice trembling. “I know it doesn’t make up for it. I know it won’t change what happened. But I can’t keep pretending like it didn’t happen, either. I’m trying to face it, to deal with it... even if it means facing you like this.”

You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair as you try to keep your emotions in check. “You want to face it? Fine. But I can’t pretend this makes us friends or whatever. You broke something—something that can’t just be fixed with a sorry and some honesty.”

Lila nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I know. I’m not asking for forgiveness... I’m not even sure I deserve it. I just wanted to be truthful, to at least try and do the right thing for once.”

You look at her, seeing the raw emotion in her eyes, the genuine remorse etched across her face. For a moment, your anger softens, replaced by a heavy, painful understanding. She’s just trying to figure everything out too, struggling to navigate the chaos and consequences of her actions, just like you. But it doesn’t erase the fact that she played a big part in all of this, that her choices have led to this mess that now binds all of you together.

Still, there’s a part of you that wants to hold onto the anger, to use it as a shield against the hurt and betrayal. Yet, seeing her like this, vulnerable and regretful, you can’t help but feel a flicker of empathy. Maybe she doesn’t deserve forgiveness, but neither of you deserve this situation either.

You exhale slowly, trying to push away the conflicting emotions that swirl inside you. “Look, Lila,” you say, your voice more steady now, “I get that you’re trying to do the right thing. And I get that you’re scared. Hell, I am too. But I can’t just pretend like everything’s okay because you decided to come clean.”

Lila nods again, swallowing hard. “I know,” she whispers. “I don’t expect things to be okay. I just… I need you to know the truth. I thought it was the least I could do.”

You let out another sigh, feeling the weight of her words settle over you like a heavy blanket. “Yeah…” you murmur, trailing off as the enormity of the situation sinks in. Lila takes a deep breath, her gaze shifting nervously before she speaks again. “Do you think you could... tell Five for me?”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. “Why in the hell would I do that?” you snap, unable to hide your frustration.

Lila bites her lip, her eyes filled with a mix of desperation and vulnerability. “Because I’m scared,” she admits softly. “I don’t know how he’s going to react, and I don’t think I can handle another confrontation right now.”

You stare at her in disbelief, anger simmering just beneath the surface. “You’re scared?” you repeat, your voice rising slightly. “Lila, I’m barely holding it together myself. You think I want to be the one to tell him that there’s a chance he might be the father? That’s your issue to deal with.”

She flinches at your words, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “I get it, I do,” she says quietly, her voice trembling. “But I thought... maybe he’d take it better coming from you.”

You shake your head, frustration boiling over. “That’s because I’m his wife, Lila. Or at least, I was before all this happened,” you snap. “But I’m not your messenger, and I’m certainly not going to be the one to clean up your fuck-ups.”

Lila flinches again, your words hitting her like a physical blow. Her eyes brim with fresh tears, but she blinks them back, trying to hold herself together. “I know,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I know this is my mess. I just… I thought maybe… since you know him better…”

You cut her off with a sharp shake of your head, your frustration reaching its peak. “Don’t you dare put this shit on me,” you snap, your voice cold and unyielding. “I didn’t cause this mess, and I’m not going to be the one to clean it up for you. You made your choices, Lila. Now you have to deal with them.”

Lila’s face crumples, her composure breaking under the weight of your words. “I’m sorry,” she says again, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I know I’ve hurt you. I know I’ve hurt Diego, and now this… I just don’t know how to fix it.”

You feel a mix of anger and pity as you look at her, sitting there so lost and broken. Part of you wants to scream at her, to make her feel the full weight of the pain she’s caused. But another part of you, a quieter, more compassionate part, recognizes her remorse and the fear in her eyes. She’s struggling, just like you are, caught in a situation that has spiraled out of control.

“Lila,” you say more calmly, though your voice still holds a steely edge, “I’m not the one who can make this right. You need to talk to Diego. You need to talk to Five. You need to deal with this. I can’t do it for you. I won’t.” She nods, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re right,” she says quietly. “I’ll talk to them. I’ll… I’ll figure it out. I just… I’m sorry.”

There’s a long pause, the silence between you heavy and loaded with unspoken emotions. Finally, you sigh, feeling some of the tension leave your body. “Just… be honest with them,” you say softly. “That’s all you can do now.” Lila nods, her expression a mix of determination and fear. “Thank you,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. “For listening. For… for everything.”

Without another word, she turns and leaves the room, the door closing softly behind her. You stand there for a moment, staring at the closed door, feeling a whirlwind of emotions—anger, frustration, sadness, and a tiny, flickering ember of hope. Maybe, somehow, things could start to heal. Maybe, with time, you could all find a way forward. But for now, all you can do is take it one step at a time.

A little while later, another knock breaks the silence, pulling you from the depths of your thoughts. You’ve been sitting alone in the quiet room, the weight of everything pressing down on you. You feel drained, the emotional toll of the last conversation still fresh, and the last thing you want is another confrontation.

With a weary sigh, you stand and cross the room to open the door. On the other side, Five stands there, his expression tight with worry. His eyes quickly scan you, taking in your disheveled appearance and the exhaustion etched across your face.

"Hey," he says, his voice unsteady but low. He looks you up and down again, as if searching for some clue to your state of mind. You sigh, “What hell do you want?” He sighs, running his hand through his hair, “Lila told me.”

You stand there, feeling the weight of his words. “She told you?” you echo, trying to keep your voice steady. Five nods, his face a mixture of concern and frustration. “Can I come in?” he asks quietly.

You sigh, stepping aside to let him in. As he crosses the threshold, you can’t help but feel a lingering, complicated affection for him, despite everything that’s happened.

He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, and you sit down beside him, the space between you feeling both intimate and charged with unresolved tension. Five runs a hand through his hair, his eyes meeting yours with a pained expression. “I have no fucking idea what to do,” he admits, his voice heavy with frustration.

You stifle a laugh, the sound coming out more like a bitter chuckle. “Welcome to the fucking club,” you reply, your tone laced with a mix of sarcasm and resignation. The absurdity of the situation is almost too much to bear, and yet, there’s a part of you that appreciates his honesty and vulnerability.

Five’s expression softens slightly, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. “So what now?” he asks, his voice quieter. You chuckle again, “Who’s ‘we,’ Five? Last time I checked, it only takes two to make a baby,” you reply, your tone reflecting the harsh reality of the situation. The words hang between you.

Five looks down, clearly grappling with the weight of your words. “I know,” he says quietly, his voice heavy. “I just... What if it is mine?”

You shrug, the gesture feeling as heavy as the conversation. “Then you’d be the father,” you reply coldly. Your tone is blunt, a reflection of the emotional exhaustion you’re feeling—tired of crying, tired of being upset.

He groans, “No fucking shit. What the fuck am I supposed to do? What are we going to do?” He gestures between the two of you, his frustration clear.

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your own emotions in check. “Look, Five,” you begin, your voice firm but weary, “The only thing you, Lila, and Diego can do is wait. Wait for the baby to be old enough to take a paternity test.

He sighs but nods, “Sorry for getting angry at you.” You shrug. unsure of what to say. At this point, words seem inadequate. The situation is so far beyond simple apologies and explanations. You just nod, acknowledging his apology without feeling the need to respond.

The silence that follows is heavy, charged with the weight of your shared pain. Five’s eyes linger on your face, his concern cutting through the tension. “Are you okay?” he asks softly, his voice betraying a genuine worry despite the strained circumstances.

You almost laugh, the irony and frustration bubbling to the surface. “Yeah, I’ve been so fucking good,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Since the day I learned my husband cheated on me with his brother’s wife, and now that said wife might be carrying said husband’s baby.” You let out a humorless chuckle, shaking your head. “Everything’s just perfect.”

Five's face tightens with guilt and sorrow as he processes your words. “I’m really sorry,” he says quietly, his voice filled with regret. “I never wanted any of this to happen. I know that’s not enough, but I’m trying— Fuck, I’m trying so fucking hard to make you forgive me.” He runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his movements.

You open your mouth to respond, but he cuts you off, his voice rough and strained. “I’m trying, alright? I’m here, doing whatever fucked-up shit you need me to do. I thought maybe I could help in some way, even if it’s just by being here for you. But it feels like nothing I do is right. I don’t know how to fix this or if I even can. I’m just fucking lost.”

He pauses, his eyes searching yours for any sign of redemption or understanding. The frustration and self-loathing in his voice are palpable. You can see the weight of his guilt and regret hanging heavy on him, his attempts to fix things feeling futile and exhausting.

You look away from his intense gaze, the depth of his pain hitting you hard. “I just really fucking love you, alright?” he says, his voice cracking with raw emotion. He reaches out, gently cupping your cheek and turning your face towards him. The touch is tender, almost desperate, as if he's trying to hold on to the last remnants of what you once shared. His eyes, filled with a mix of hope and anguish, search yours for some sign that his words have made a difference.

You feel the warmth of his hand against your skin, the contact both comforting and excruciatingly painful. The depth of his plea and the sincerity in his touch make your heart ache, caught between the love you still feel and the hurt that's been inflicted. His gaze is unwavering, his desperation to mend what’s broken evident in the way he holds your face, as if afraid that if he lets go, he’ll lose you completely.

You sigh, your eyes closing briefly as you gather your thoughts. Slowly, you grasp his wrist and pull it away, creating a necessary distance between you. “Five,” you begin, your voice weary but resolute, “I can’t keep doing this. This is too fucking painful.”

He looks at you, confusion and hurt mixing in his eyes. “What are you saying?” he asks, his voice trembling slightly.

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words amidst the storm of emotions. “I think we need to take a break," you say, your voice quiet but firm. "This situation... it's too complicated, too messy. We both need time to figure things out, especially with everything that's happening with Lila." You pause, meeting Five's gaze, "I can't keep letting myself be hurt by you."

His expression shifts, a mix of shock and sadness settling in. “A break?” he repeats, his voice barely audible. You nod, your resolve firm despite the emotional weight of the moment. “Yes, a break.” You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

He looks at you, confusion and hurt mingling in his eyes. “We’ve never done anything like this before…” he states, his voice trailing off as he searches your face for some hint of a different solution.

You nod, unable to meet his gaze. It hurts, it hurts really fucking bad. You love this man—or loved him? You aren’t too sure anymore. You’ve been through so much together, and the thought of putting distance between you feels like a stab to the heart.

You finally look up, your voice breaking with raw emotion. “I think it’s— it’s for the best.”

You can see the pain in Five's eyes, the way his shoulders slump at your words. He takes a shaky breath, his voice cracking as he struggles to hold back tears. “If that’s what you need...” he begins, but his words trail off, unable to complete the thought. The weight of your decision hangs heavily in the air between you.

You look away, unable to bear the sight of him in such distress—the man you love - broken by your own choices. It’s a painful reminder of the betrayal that brought you to this point, and your heart aches even as you try to stay firm.

Five sighs deeply, gathering himself as he rises from the bed. He walks slowly toward the door, each step heavy with resignation. “I guess I’ll keep you updated on anything that happens with Lila and the baby,” he says, his voice a whisper, almost like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you.

You nod, the gesture feeling hollow as you wave him off. “Yeah, okay,” you reply, your tone subdued. As he exits, the door clicks shut behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet room.

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

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jellieland · 9 months ago

Text

(Spoilers for. Real life?? I guess???)

---

Five figures stand, solemn, at the celestial summit of nowhere. They discuss matters of great import, and observe the fragile gossamer thread that is all that surrounds them, and-

Oh. No, nope, nevermind. They're just arguing again, aren't they.

"-don't know what you expect ME to do about it!" snaps the Red One.

"I don't know, Grian, how about literally anything?" asks the Scarlet Moon, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, you could at least tell us what's going on out there," says the Ruby Star. "I don't think that's too much to ask, Grian."

"Riiight, like that'll help," says the Bloody Victor, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Martyn, do you have to make this difficult every single time?" snaps the Red One. "Anyway, we've got loads of time to work this out. It's only just started, even if it was a bit earlier than I thought it would be," he grumbles, irritated.

"Oh! Look!" calls the Coquelicot Loner, from where he is peering away from their circle at something that would look, to anyone but the five present, entirely indistinguishable from any other patch of the universe. "They must be done! Someone's coming!"

"What?" The Red One frowns. "Don't be ridiculous, Scar, there's no way-"

A brilliant beam of starlight shoots down from the heavens, and tears through their little circle like a formula one car cutting through the middle of a picnic.

It leaves behind...

Huh.

What. What is that.

There is... a. Person? But the proportions are all wrong, nothing this world has ever seen before. The limbs are mismatched, twisted, not quite connected. The movement is... disturbingly smooth, except when it jerks and jumps at seemingly random moments.

Whatever they are, they regain their balance, look around, and... laugh. "Oh, hey guys!" they say. "You know, I really didn't think this counted. But here we are, I guess!"

"Mom?" says the Coquelicot Loner, squinting at her. "Why are you short?"

"Oh my god, Scar, you can't just ask people why they're short," says the Ruby Star, apparently on autopilot.

"Yeah, and, uh, not to be rude, but more like why are you an eldrich horror? But, like, more so than usual?" says the Bloody Victor, backing up and looking rather alarmed.

They raise an eyebrow. "Oh, we're doing this now, are we?" They shake their head. "You know what this is perfectly well. We did another game, and I won. Deeply surprising, I know, but here we are!"

The Scarlet Moon tilts her head. "I mean, not that it's not nice to have you here, I guess, but that seemed real quick for a whole game, Cleo."

"Yes, thank you Pearl," says the Red One, narrowing his eyes. "I quite agree. Just how violent WAS this one that it's already finished? And WHY was I not informed?"

Cleo laughs. "To be honest I don't think anyone expected it to matter. And, I mean, sure it was violent, they always are, but it was all pretty light-hearted to be honest! Not a lot of drama, you know." She looks around, and seems to remember something. "Oh, Scott, I let a zombie kill you at the end! Sorry about that, I didn't realise quite how low you were. It was pretty funny, though."

The Ruby Star blinks, and shrugs. "I mean, fair enough. Hey, that means Divorce Quartet is all here, now!"

The Coquelicot Loner squints. "...Does that make you my stepdad, Scott?"

"No," says Cleo.

"God no," says the Ruby Star. "For, just, so many reasons."

"Yeah, I am not doing that again," says Cleo.

"So... So, hang on," says the Red One. "You're saying, in your game, it was all just. Cool and fine and calm. No pain or blood or sacrifice. No agonising entangled web of alliances. No cold-blooded, cold-hearted backstabbing?"

("Hey!" says the Bloody Victor.)

"I mean there was plenty of blood, technically. And Martyn did sort of try to stab everyone in the back and then run away."

("...Yeah, ok, fine," says the Bloody Victor.)

"But no, not much emotional turmoil, all in all! It was pretty chill, really!" They glance around the circle. "It was nice to see Ren again, too! I think he was off roleplaying with Martyn most of the time, though."

"I'm going to kill you," says the Bloody Victor, despairingly. "How is that fair?!"

"Life isn't fair," says the Scarlet Moon.

"Oh, you-"

"Can you shut up for five minutes," snaps the Red One.

As the bickering continues, the Coquelicot Loner and Ruby Star sidle up to Cleo, avoiding her wavering, eldritch outline.

"So!" says the Coquelicot Loner. "How's dad?"

Cleo gives him a look. "Scar," they say.

He holds up his hands. "Ok, ok! Just asking!"

She shakes her head, not without affection. "Is this really all you do here? Just stand around and irritate each other?"

"No!" says the Coquelicot Loner, seemingly deeply offended.

"Yeah, pretty much," says the Ruby Star.

"Ok well that's stupid," says Cleo.

"Yes," says the Red One, having extricated himself from the continuing altercation between the other two. "This is extremely stupid." He claps his hands, drawing everyone's attention and finally ending the argument, for now. "All in favour of erasing the past few minutes from existence and pretending none this ever happened?"

"Aye," says everyone but Cleo.

"What," says Cleo.

"It means you get to go home and you don't have to stands around in a circle with us lot for the rest of eternity," says the Scarlet Moon.

"Oh. Yeah, definitely do that," says Cleo.

"Wonderful," says the Red One, and clicks his fingers.

...

Five figures stand, solemn, at the celestial summit of nowhere. They discuss matters of great import, and observe the fragile gossamer thread that is all that surrounds them, and-

The Coquelicot Loner speaks. "Well, that was fun, wasn't it! Do you-"

"I thought we just agreed that didn't happen, Scar," snaps the Red One.

Oh, ok. Alright, they're arguing again.

Yeah, we probably don't have to stick around and listen to this any longer, either. I don't expect it's going to change anytime soon.

#real life smp #life series #grian #pearlescentmoon #scott smajor #martyn inthelittlewood #goodtimeswithscar #zombiecleo #my writing #trafficfic

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ijustmissyouraccenths · 8 months ago

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I Want To Kill Her (Part 2)

Au where Y/N and Harry are neighbors who find out their spouses are cheating with each other.

Based off Fortnight by Taylor Swift

Part 1

CW: Smut, cursing, unprotected sex, emotional abuse.

Word Count: 10,085

The months following the gut-wrenching discovery of Teddy's affair were a chaotic storm of emotions and turmoil. The idea of my spouse, the person I trusted most in this world, being unfaithful was unbearable. But without any concrete evidence, doubt enveloped me like a thick fog, suffocating me as I struggled to regain my footing. Though I desperately wanted to believe he wasn't cheating, the blatant signs and whispers from those around us made it impossible to deny the painful truth.

Rage and heartbreak battle within me as I struggle to forgive Teddy, to find a way to salvage our relationship. But each attempt is met with the painful memories of his infidelity, burning like acid through my veins. I'm terrified of losing my British citizenship, my sense of identity and belonging, if I leave him. And even worse, I dread the thought of calling my family and confessing the truth - that not only did Teddy betray me with another woman, but in some sick twisted way, I am also to blame. My family adored him like a son, and he gave me a life beyond my wildest dreams. How could I ever reconcile these conflicting emotions?

Harry's sudden decision to divorce Rosie sent shockwaves through the once peaceful fortress of their home. In just a week, he had packed his bags and walked away, leaving behind a cold and empty shell that was now up for sale. As new potential buyers roamed the halls, I couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal from Harry's abrupt departure. The last time I saw him was in a dingy motel room, where we spent a desperate night together before he vanished without a trace. His disappearance was calculated and cruel, fueled by his seemingly endless wealth and power. Meanwhile, I was left with nothing but uncertainty and the option to return home to Florida. But Harry's resentment only grew as I hesitated to make a final decision. He wanted me to walk away with no regrets, but real life is messy and complicated - far from the neat and tidy ending he desired.

I was trapped in a prison of a house, held captive by a man who claimed to love me but had truly only created a tangled web of chaos and pain. We forced ourselves into therapy every week, desperate to salvage something from the wreckage he had caused. But even after all the sessions, I still felt like I was drowning in the suffocating grip of his selfishness. It was never enough, and I could feel my sanity slipping away with each passing day.

Evenings rolled into nights and days blurred into months. Each moment seemed agonizingly long as I begged time to fly quicker, to wash away the stale taste of betrayal and deception from my existence. The house that once echoed with laughter and love now felt eerily silent, its walls whispering Teddy's betrayal during the quietest hours. My heart ached in ways I never knew possible, each pulse a reminder of the pain he had caused.

In a bid for relief, I threw myself into cooking elaborate meals, organising closets, watering the drooping plants Teddy had once loved. Yet every activity was tainted with the memory of him - his laughter rings in my mind as I repeat chores we used to do together. It was a desperate plight to keep myself sane amidst the storm that threatened to break me down.

Teddy's unfaithfulness took its toll on my spirit, but Harry's abandonment shattered me entirely. I played over our last night together again and again in my mind. There was something feral about that night; lust mixed with desperation and an underlying tone of finality. He left without any explanation, disappearing like a ghost only leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and a raw wound that refused to heal.

The cracks were beginning to show. Laughter seemed forced, smiles rarely reached my eyes. The weekly therapy sessions felt more like an interrogation than relief, talks of my own explicit night replaying session after session. Hours spent scrutinizing every detail of our dysfunctional relationship only amplified my misery. Every shared secret, every stolen glance, every whispered promise – all now seemed meaningless and distorted under the harsh scrutiny of reality.

In the end, it was not Teddy who broke me; it was me who had allowed myself to be broken by him. My judgment clouded by love hindered me from seeing the man he truly was – a master manipulator cloaked in charm and charisma. The truth was painful to accept but liberating in its own cruel way. I was no longer in denial. I was no longer the woman who would bend over backwards to accommodate the whims of unfaithful men. I was stronger than my heartbreak, stronger than their deceit. And most importantly, I learned the toughest lesson of my life – not all love is meant to be cherished; sometimes, it's better left discarded.

As I sat in the therapist's office, the stark white walls closing in around me, my voice cracked as I attempted to verbalize the turmoil within me. "I just don't understand how it got to this point," I admitted, tears threatening to spill over.

Dr. Richards leaned forward, her gentle gaze meeting mine with empathy. "It sounds like you've been through a lot of pain and betrayal," she said softly. "But remember, healing begins with acknowledging the truth."

I nodded, wiping away a stray tear that escaped down my cheek. "I know, but it's so hard to let go of everything that was once so real to me."

Dr. Richards offered a kind smile. "It's okay to feel that way. It's all a part of the process." She paused before continuing, "Have you considered what you need to do to move forward from this?"

I took a deep breath, the weight of the question settling heavily on my shoulders. "I... I think I need to start by forgiving myself for allowing this to happen. For not seeing the signs sooner."

The words hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken pain and regret. Dr. Richards reached out and placed a comforting hand on mine. "Forgiveness is a powerful tool, both for yourself and for others," she said gently.

I closed my eyes, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "But how do I forgive someone who shattered me into a million pieces?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Dr. Richards' voice was steady and reassuring as she replied, "Forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting or excusing their actions. It means releasing the hold they have over your heart and mind."

As I sat there, grappling with the weight of forgiveness, a million thoughts raced through my mind. Dr. Richards' words lingered like a balm on my wounded soul, but the path to healing still seemed daunting.

"I understand that forgiveness is crucial, but how do I even begin to untangle the mess he left behind?" I asked, my voice wavering with uncertainty.

Dr. Richards leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. "It's a process, one step at a time," she said gently. "Start by acknowledging your pain and allowing yourself to feel it without judgment."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I nodded, the emotions swirling inside me threatening to spill over. "It's just so hard to let go of the anger and hurt," I confessed.

She nodded in understanding. "Anger is a natural response to betrayal, but holding onto it only prolongs your pain. Remember, forgiveness is not for his benefit, but for yours."

Her words struck a chord deep within me, resonating with a truth I had been avoiding. "I want to move forward, but I don't know where to begin," I admitted, feeling lost in the sea of my own emotions.

Dr. Richards reached for a tissue and handed it to me with a gentle smile. "Start by being gentle with yourself," she advised. "Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself, a release from the burden of carrying someone else's actions."

I took the tissue gratefully, wiping away my tears as her words sank in. "I never thought of it that way," I murmured, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the pain.

She gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "You are stronger than you realize. Forgiveness is not about condoning what he did; it's about setting yourself free from his grip on your heart."

As I sat there, enveloped in Dr. Richards' compassion and wisdom, a sense of peace washed over me. The road to forgiveness may be long and arduous, but with her guidance and my own resilience, perhaps one day I could truly let go and embrace the healing that awaited me.

The following weeks were a whirlwind of emotion, a rollercoaster of highs and lows. I spent many sleepless nights replaying old memories, wrestling with anger and regret. But with each passing day, the burden on my heart felt lighter. I began journaling my thoughts, pouring out my hurt into ink instead of letting it fester within me. And despite the painful contents, there was a strange sort of relief in seeing my emotions spelled out on paper.

"Writing can be therapeutic," Dr. Richards had suggested during one of our sessions. "It provides a safe space to confront your feelings, as raw and as tumultuous as they may be."

Within the quiet sanctuary of my mind and the solitude of my room, I started to delve deeper into myself; into the wounds that had been inflicted upon me and the ones I had unknowingly inflicted upon myself. The process was painful but cathartic. For each tear that fell onto the pages of my journal, there was a tiny piece of pain and bitterness being released.

Days turned into weeks, and slowly but surely, I found myself becoming less consumed by his betrayal and more focused on my healing. I started attending group therapy sessions where I met others who bore similar scars – our shared experiences bound us together in a circle of empathy and understanding.

In those group meetings, I realized that pain was universal but so was resilience. Listening to others narrate their journeys of recovery ignited a spark within me. I saw mirrored in their stories my own strength and determination to rise above the ashes.

One day, while looking at myself in the mirror after another group therapy session, something remarkable happened. Staring back at me was a woman who looked familiar but different—a stronger version of myself; a survivor. My reflection no longer showcased the woman betrayed by love but instead revealed a woman who had found strength amidst despair.

“I am not just a victim,” I whispered to my reflection, the words filling the room with a newfound determination. “I am a survivor.”

The following week in Dr. Richard's office, I found myself recalling this moment with a sense of pride. "I am starting to see changes," I admitted, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

She returned my smile, her eyes filled with warmth and encouragement. "Change is a testament to your strength and resilience," she responded. "You're embracing this journey with courage, learning to forgive not just him, but yourself as well."

Her words felt like a beacon of hope guiding me through the foggy path of recovery. While the pain still lingered like an unforgotten ghost, each day it seemed less potent than before. I was indeed learning to forgive—forgive him for his betrayal and forgive myself for my blindness to his deceit.

As our session ended, I left Dr. Richards' office feeling lighter than when I had come in. With every step away from her office and every step towards home, I was journeying farther from the woman who had allowed herself to be broken by betrayal and closer to the woman who had found strength in her own resilience.

Journaling had become my safe haven, a place where I could pour out my deepest thoughts and emotions without fear of judgment. But that sanctuary was shattered when one day, in a rush to make it to therapy on time, I left my journal open on the bed. My heart stopped when I returned to find Teddy holding it, his eyes scanning the pages filled with my most vulnerable moments. In an instant, my privacy was invaded and my trust was broken.

The tense silence in the room shattered as Teddy's furious voice pierced the air, causing my heart to skip a beat. I watched helplessly as he held my journal in a white-knuckled grip, his eyes scanning the pages with growing anger. "What the actual fuck is this?" he bellowed, his face contorted with rage.

I stood frozen, my mind racing to find the right words to diffuse the escalating situation. "Teddy, please put that down," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper, but he ignored me, his expression dark and menacing.

With a sharp intake of breath, I lunged forward to grab the journal from his hands, but he deftly sidestepped me. The tension crackled between us like electricity, each heartbeat echoing in the turbulent silence that enveloped the room.

"You've been writing about our sessions? and Harry?" Teddy's voice was laced with accusation, his gaze burning into mine with searing intensity.

I felt a surge of defiance rising within me as I squared my shoulders. "It's none of your business," I shot back, my tone sharper than intended, but I refused to back down in the face of his intrusion.

His jaw clenched as he took a step closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over me. "None of my business? You've been documenting our private moments, our struggles! How you also fucked the neighbor?" His voice rose with each word, reverberating off the walls like thunder in a storm “As if that little fucking photo he sent while fucking you, my wife, wasn’t bad enough”.

I could feel my own anger building, fueled by his violation of my privacy. "You have no right to invade my thoughts like this and last I checked, you were the one who started cheating," I retorted, the words dripping with resentment and hurt.

The atmosphere crackled with tension as we stood locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to yield ground. The air grew thick with unspoken accusations and grievances left festering beneath the surface.

"You think you can just hide behind your journal and play the victim?" Teddy's voice was laced with contempt, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

My fists clenched at my sides as a surge of defiance coursed through me. "I am not playing anything! This is my way of coping with everything you've put me through, let’s remember who started this mess," I shot back, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside me.

His laugh was harsh and bitter, cutting through the charged atmosphere like a blade. "Coping? Is that what you call it? Writing about how I've destroyed you? This is pretty much a sex book." His words were like daggers aimed straight at my heart.

The room seemed to shrink around us as we faced off in this battle of words and wills. Every breath felt heavy with unspoken truths and buried emotions that threatened to erupt like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

"I trusted you," I whispered hoarsely, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes as the weight of his betrayal bore down on me like a crushing weight.

Teddy's expression softened for a fleeting moment before hardening once more. "Trusted me? Look where that got you," he sneered, a cruel twist to his lips betraying the depths of his callousness.

The walls seemed to close in around us as the fight escalated into a tumultuous storm of emotions and accusations. Each word exchanged felt like a blow to an already fractured foundation that threatened to crumble under the weight of our shared pain.

The rumble of thunder outside echoed the turmoil inside as our voices rose in a crescendo of anger and hurt. The room pulsed with an energy so charged it felt as though lightning might strike at any moment, igniting a fire that would consume us both.

"I'm tired of being your punching bag," I declared, my voice firm with newfound resolve.

Teddy's face contorted with fury. "You think you're innocent in all this?" he shot back, his words like venom dripping from his lips.

The air crackled with electricity as we faced off in a battle neither willing to concede. It was a clash of egos and emotions, each word exchanged fueling the fire burning between us.

"I won't be silenced by your guilt-tripping," I retorted, my voice cutting through the charged atmosphere with precision.

Teddy's eyes blazed with rage as he took a step closer, his breath hot against my skin. "Guilt-tripping? You've been playing the victim since day one," he accused, his voice dripping with contempt.

The room seemed on the verge of imploding as our tempers flared and our voices clashed in a symphony of discord. It was a battle of wills and wounded pride, each unwilling to yield ground in this war of words.

"You'll never own up to your mistakes," I accused, my voice tinged with frustration and anger.

Teddy's fists clenched at his sides as he glared at me with unbridled fury. "Mistakes? You're the one who shattered everything we had, we could’ve come back from this. You didn’t have to fuck the first guy you saw!" he roared, his words echoing off the walls like thunder on a stormy night.

The fight raged on like an unrelenting tempest, each word exchanged adding fuel to the fire burning between us. The air crackled with tension as we stood face to face in a battle that threatened to consume us both.

“You know what? I’m done,” I seethed, my voice rising to a fever pitch. "I'll find a place to stay and it sure as hell won't be here!" My fists clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I glared daggers at the person in front of me. The fury coursing through my body threatened to consume me, but I welcomed it, fueled by sheer determination to escape this toxic environment.

I took a deep breath and tried to steady my shaking hands as I dialed Bella's number, she was the first close friend I had made in London. The phone rang for what felt like hours before she finally picked up.

"Hey, Bella. It's me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside of me.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

"I need a place to stay for a while. Can I crash with you?" I blurted out, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Bella didn't hesitate. "Of course! What happened?"

"It's a long story," I replied, tears threatening to spill from my eyes again.

"Don't worry about it. Just come over whenever you're ready," she said reassuringly.

I thanked her and hung up the phone before splashing some cold water on my face in an attempt to compose myself. Taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I unlocked the bathroom door and made my way back to the living room.

Teddy was nowhere in sight, probably still seething from our argument. I quickly grabbed my backpack and stuffed some clothes and toiletries inside before heading out the door.

The fresh air outside helped clear my mind as I made my way towards Bella's house. As much as I wanted to stay strong and not let Teddy get to me, his words still stung like open wounds.

I couldn't believe how things had escalated so quickly between us. We used to be inseparable, but now it seemed like we were nothing but strangers living under the same roof.

My thoughts were interrupted as I arrived at Bella's house. She greeted me with open arms and led me inside as Bella and I settled down on her cozy couch, surrounded by the warmth of her living room, she handed me a mug of hot tea. The familiar scent of chamomile filled the air, soothing my frayed nerves.

"So, spill it. What happened between you and Teddy?" Bella asked gently, her eyes reflecting genuine concern.

I took a sip of the tea, feeling its comforting warmth seep into my bones. "It's just... we had another one of those fights about the cheating. The same patterns repeating over and over again. I don't think we can fix this anymore," I admitted, feeling a heavy weight lift off my chest with each word spoken.

Bella nodded knowingly, her empathy palpable. "Sometimes things reach a point where they can't be salvaged, no matter how much we try. It's okay to walk away if it's for your own well-being," she reassured me, her words like a balm to my wounded spirit.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I gazed at my friend, grateful for her unwavering support. "I just feel lost, you know? Like I don't even recognize myself anymore in all of this chaos," I whispered, the vulnerability raw in my voice.

Bella reached out and squeezed my hand reassuringly. "You're not alone in this. You have people who care about you, who want to see you happy and thriving. And remember, sometimes in letting go, we find the strength to rebuild ourselves," she offered with a gentle smile.

Her words resonated deep within me, a glimmer of hope flickering in the darkness that had clouded my heart. I wiped away the tears that had escaped and mustered a small smile in return.

"Thank you, Bella. For everything," I expressed sincerely, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over me for having such a supportive friend by my side.

The early morning light blazed through my window, a stark reminder of the emptiness that awaited me. With a heavy heart, I resolved to find a job, anything to fill the void left by my crumbling marriage. But even as I searched for employment opportunities, my thoughts kept drifting back to Harry. My desperation to know how he was doing gnawed at me like a festering wound, but there was no way to reach out and ask. As I sat in silence, I couldn't help but imagine the different path my life could have taken if I had chosen Harry over Teddy. The image of us together haunted me, a cruel reminder of what could've been. But now it was too late, and there was no turning back from the pain and regret that consumed me.

My fingers danced across the keys of my laptop, typing and retyping cover letters and resumes. The monotony of each hopeful submission echoed the emptiness in my heart, seemingly endless echoes spiraling into a void. To distract myself, I brewed a strong cup of coffee, the familiar smell offering an odd comfort in the chaos that was now my life.

As the day wore on, my efforts bore no fruit. Each potential employer remained a stranger to me, their responses automated and cold. As darkness began to creep into the room, a sense of defeat washed over me and I closed my laptop with a sigh.

I poured myself another cup of coffee, this time opting for the solitude of the balcony to nurse it. The city below shimmered with life just as it always did, indifferent to the turmoil of one seemingly insignificant inhabitant. Despite the layers of concrete and glass that separated us, I felt strangely connected to those anonymous lights - distant beacons in the abyss.

A haunting melody wafted up from somewhere far below, a soulful duet between an old saxophone and an even older piano. The notes danced through the fragmented night air, weaving stories of love lost and found again. Each note was a phantom whispering bittersweet tales into my ear.

Just then, an unexpected sound cut through my thoughts - the shrill ringtone of my phone nudged me back into reality. My heart clenched as I saw Teddy's name flash across the screen. He hadn't called since our fallout; what could he possibly want now? Nervously biting my lip, I answered it. On the other end of the line Teddy’s voice trembled with an emotion I couldn’t quite place; regret perhaps—or was it desperation?

My heart raced as I hung up and blocked Teddy's number. It was a small act of defiance, of reclaiming control over my life. But in that moment, it felt powerful.

I took a deep breath and leaned against the balcony railing, feeling the cold metal press against my cheek. It was a reminder that I was still here, still alive despite the pain and chaos swirling within me.

But even as I tried to convince myself that cutting off all contact with Teddy was for the best, doubts crept into my mind. What if he really did want to talk? What if he wanted to apologize and make things right?

I pushed those thoughts away, refusing to let them cloud my judgement. I couldn't afford to let him back into my life, not when I was finally starting to move on.

With new determination, I went back inside and resumed my job search. As midnight approached and exhaustion began to take hold, I allowed myself a moment of weakness and checked my email one last time.

A spark of hope ignited within me as I read the email from my job recruiter. It informed me that there was a hiring event happening downtown tomorrow and I had been invited to attend. My heart raced with excitement - this could be my chance to finally land a job.

I quickly confirmed my attendance and began mentally preparing for the event. As much as I hated the thought of going out into the world and facing potential rejection, I knew it was something I had to do.

The next morning, after meticulously picking out an outfit and rehearsing what I would say, I set out for downtown. The bustling streets were a chaotic blend of people rushing to work and tourists taking in the sights. As I walked among them, a sense of anonymity washed over me - just another face in the crowd.

Eventually, I reached the building where the hiring event was taking place. After taking a deep breath, I stepped inside and made my way towards the designated area.

The event was packed with job seekers like myself, all eager for a chance at employment. Despite my nerves, I felt emboldened by their determination and pushed forward to talk to employers.

One after another, I introduced myself and handed out resumes with practiced ease. Some showed interest while others dismissed me without a second glance. But instead of feeling defeated by rejection, I soldiered on with renewed purpose.

Hours passed in this manner until finally, just as hope began to wane, someone took notice of me. It was an HR rep from one of the top companies in town, Pleasing.

My heart pounded as I realized this could potentially lead me down the path to seeing Harry again. But I quickly pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present moment.

The HR rep from Pleasing seemed impressed by my credentials and asked me to come in for an interview the following day. I couldn't believe it - this was exactly the opportunity I had been waiting for.

As I walked out of the hiring event, my mind raced with excitement and nerves. Part of me couldn't help but wonder if Harry still lived in the area, but I quickly shut down that line of thinking. It didn't matter - all that mattered was that I had a chance at a job.

The next day, I arrived at Pleasing's office early, dressed in my best professional attire. The receptionist greeted me with a smile and directed me to the HR department.

I shook myself out of my reverie as the HR rep called me into their office for the interview. Despite my nerves, I answered their questions confidently and highlighted my experience and skills.

As the interview progressed, I could feel the HR rep becoming more and more impressed. The questions became increasingly challenging, but I faced them head-on, demonstrating my knowledge and quick decision-making abilities.

Slowly, the discussion moved on to my potential role in Pleasing and how I saw myself contributing to the company's future. Here, I outlined a comprehensive plan that included innovation, team synergy, and a commitment to meeting corporate objectives. The HR rep listened attentively, occasionally interjecting to clarify or probe deeper into my responses.

The interview concluded on a positive note and I was told that they would get back to me in a week's time. As I left the building, I felt a sense of accomplishment but there was also an underlying excitement - the possibility of crossing paths with Harry and being able to leave Bella’s to find my own flat.

A week passed in a blur of anticipation and anxiety, each day inching closer to the call from Pleasing. When it eventually came through, my heart skipped a beat. They were pleased with my performance during the interview and wanted me on board.

And so began my journey with Pleasing - a journey that was filled with arduous tasks, demanding projects, and incredible opportunities for growth. The work environment was fast-paced but rewarding, pushing me to work harder each day.

One afternoon, a couple of months into my role at Pleasing, I saw him from afar. It was Harry - my former neighbor and one night stand. He looked just as I remembered him: sharp-witted and focused in his tailored suit, there was an air of high authority about him.

My heart raced as I watched him stride through the office, making his way towards the executive level. Memories of our time together flooded back to me - the late nights he spent on top of me, the way he felt, the way he touched me, how he smelt expensive.

Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly realized that I needed to find a way to meet with him. But how? As a junior employee, I didn't have easy access to top executives like him.

Determined not to let this opportunity pass me by, I approached my manager and asked if there was any way I could have a meeting with Mr. Styles. She gave me a skeptical look but promised to see what she could do.

A few days later, she called me into her office with a smile on her face. "I spoke to Mr. Styles' assistant and they have agreed to give you 15 minutes next week," she said excitedly.

My heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Harry again after all this time. But what would I say? What would he think of me now?

The day of the meeting arrived and I nervously made my way up to the executive level. As soon as I stepped into Mr. Styles' office, my nerves disappeared - it felt like no time had passed between us at all.

As I cautiously entered his dark office, my heart pounded in my chest. The scent of tobacco and whiskey filled the air, mingling with the intense aura emanating from Harry's piercing green eyes. I could feel his gaze burning into me as I made my way to a chair by his desk.

"Y/N," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I saw the name and couldn't believe it was you, bloody hell."

A chill ran down my spine at the iciness in his tone. Memories flooded back of our tumultuous past, the love and betrayal that had torn us apart. But now, standing in front of him again, I couldn't deny the powerful pull that still existed between us.

"Harry," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's been a while."

He leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made my insides churn. "Indeed it has, Y/N," he remarked, his eyes never leaving mine. "I must say, I never expected to see you here."

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, feeling the weight of unspoken history hanging between us. "I didn't expect to be here either," I admitted, my voice tinged with a hint of regret.

He raised an eyebrow, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face. "And yet fate has a funny way of bringing people back together, doesn't it?"

I nodded, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me - longing, apprehension, and a spark of unresolved desire. "It seems that way," I said softly.

Harry leaned forward slightly, his expression softening imperceptibly. "Tell me, Y/N," he began, his voice quieter now. "What have you been up to since we last crossed paths?"

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts amidst the whirlwind of emotions his presence evoked. "Well," I started hesitantly, "I've been working here at Pleasing. It's been challenging but rewarding."

A flicker of interest sparked in his eyes. "Impressive." He paused for a moment before continuing, his tone contemplative. "And what made you seek out a meeting with me today?"

I met his gaze squarely, steeling myself against the vulnerability creeping in. "I wanted to reconnect," I confessed quietly. "To clear the air and maybe... find closure."

Harry regarded me thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. "Closure," he echoed softly. "Perhaps that's something we both need. And Teddy?"

My eyes drop to the ground, avoiding his penetrating gaze. "It's a messy situation, but I had to leave. I've been crashing at my friend Bella's place until I can scrape together enough money for a divorce."

His voice drips with insinuation and I feel my skin prickle with unease. "Oh, how convenient," he sneers. "I knew eventually you would come to your senses, although I thought our night together would have been enough to break you free." My stomach churns at his words.

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy with unspoken tension as their words hung in the air like charged lightning bolts ready to strike.

"You had no right to think that one night could define me or my decisions." I spat.

Harry's eyes flashed with a mix of surprise and something darker as my words cut through the tension between us. "And what right did you have to enter my life again after all this time, Y/N?" he countered sharply, his jaw clenched in frustration.

I squared my shoulders, meeting his challenging gaze head-on. "I didn't come here seeking your approval, Harry," I retorted, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "I came for myself, to find closure and move on."

He leaned forward, his expression unreadable as he studied me intently. "Closure," he repeated, the word hanging heavily between us. "Is that truly what you need? Or is there something else driving you here?"

A flicker of vulnerability crossed my features before I could stop it, and I felt exposed under his piercing scrutiny. "Maybe it's both," I admitted quietly, feeling the weight of years of unresolved emotions pressing down on me.

Harry's gaze softened slightly, a hint of understanding creeping into his eyes. "I see," he murmured, a touch of regret coloring his tone. "Perhaps we both have demons to face before we can truly move forward."

I nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth in his words. "Maybe so," I agreed, a sense of resignation settling over me. "But facing them together might be easier than doing it alone."

Silence enveloped us for a moment, broken only by the sound of our breathing mingling in the charged atmosphere of the room. Finally, Harry spoke again, his voice softer now. "I never stopped thinking about you, Y/N," he confessed quietly. "Despite everything that happened between us."

My heart clenched at his words, memories flooding back with a force that left me breathless. "I never forgot you either," I whispered, a bittersweet ache settling in my chest.

A myriad of emotions played across Harry's features - longing, regret, and something else I couldn't quite decipher. "Then perhaps we owe it to ourselves to confront the past and see where it leads us, Pleasing has a nice legal plan I can lend to you for a divorce." he suggested tentatively.

I met his gaze, seeing a glimmer of hope reflected in those intense green eyes that had once been my undoing. "Maybe we do," I agreed softly, a sense of anticipation stirring within me.

I stood outside the courtroom, my heart racing with a mix of nerves and anticipation. Today was the day I had been waiting for - the day I could finally end this marriage and start a new chapter in my life. But as I took a deep breath and stepped inside, my eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of Teddy sitting at a table with his lawyer, confidently flipping through some papers.

Next to him sat Rosie, her perfectly styled hair and expensive outfit standing out like a sore thumb among the drab courtroom surroundings. She smiled smugly in my direction as if she knew something I didn't, and suddenly all my confidence wavered.

My lawyer squeezed my hand reassuringly as we walked towards our side of the court, but I couldn't help feeling like an underdog in this battle. How had Teddy managed to go back to Rosie so quickly while still begging for me just a few weeks earlier? And how long had this been going on?

As we began the proceedings, I listened half-heartedly as their lawyer presented their case - painting me as an unfit wife who refused to support her husband's successful career. The lies stung, but I held back from speaking out.

It wasn't until it was my turn to speak that I found my voice. My lawyer had prepared a strong case for me - highlighting all of Teddy's infidelities and emotional abuse throughout our marriage. As I spoke about his controlling behavior and manipulation tactics, Rosie's smug expression faltered.

But when it was time for Teddy to speak, he denied everything with such conviction that even I started doubting myself. His words were smooth and calculated, painting me as an unstable woman who couldn't handle his success.

I felt my anger bubbling up inside me - how dare he twist the truth like this? But before I could say anything, Rosie jumped in with her own version of events. She talked about how supportive Teddy had been during their brief affair, and how I was just a jealous ex who couldn't move on.

As Rosie spoke, her words felt like sharp knives twisting in my chest. The betrayal and deceit were too much to bear, she was the one who was sleeping with my husband. I clenched my fists, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. But then, a familiar voice cut through the tense atmosphere.

"Objection, Your Honor!"

I turned to see my lawyer standing up, his expression firm and determined. "These allegations are baseless and unsubstantiated. My client has provided ample evidence of Mr. Teddy's infidelity and emotional abuse. I request that these false claims be stricken from the record."

The judge nodded solemnly, looking at Teddy and Rosie with a steely gaze. "I will not tolerate false accusations in my courtroom. Stick to the facts."

Teddy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. Rosie, on the other hand, remained composed, a smug smile playing on her lips.

"I have evidence that will prove my client's case, Your Honor," she declared confidently. "I request permission to present it."

The judge nodded again, signaling for Rosie to proceed. She stood up gracefully, producing a stack of papers from her briefcase.

"These documents show that Mr. Teddy was out of town on the dates in question," she began, flipping through the pages with ease. "He could not have been at the locations alleged by Mrs. Y/N."

I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Could it be true? Had I been mistaken all along? Her proof was just texts from Teddy to her saying he was out of town. Which proves nothing, if anything it was more incriminating.

But then, just as doubt started to creep in, a sudden realization hit me like a bolt of lightning.

"Your Honor," I interrupted, my voice trembling but resolute. "I have proof that Mr. Teddy and Ms. Rosie colluded to fabricate alibis and deceive me. They were working together against me all along."

The courtroom fell into stunned silence as I presented the evidence that exposed their treachery. Teddy's face drained of color, while Rosie's mask of composure finally cracked.

"I-I can explain," Teddy stammered, but it was too late.

The judge slammed his gavel down with finality. "Case closed. Divorce granted in favor of Mrs. Y/N. You are to pay her a monthly settlement of alimony."

As I walked out of the courtroom, a weight lifted off my shoulders. It was finally over - the lies, the betrayal, the manipulation. I could start anew with a sense of freedom and clarity.

And as I glanced back one last time at Teddy and Rosie, their faces twisted with defeat, I knew that justice had been served.

Waiting outside of the courtroom was Harry with a grin, he did a sassy wave to Rosie and Teddy.

"Congratulations, Y/N," Harry said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my forehead. "You did it."

I couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of relief and satisfaction wash over me. "I couldn't have done it without you, Harry. Thank you for everything."

"Always, love," he replied with a gentle smile.

As we walked out of the courthouse hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel grateful for having Harry by my side.

"I'm so glad this is all over," I said with a sigh, leaning into him as we reached his car.

"Yeah, me too," he agreed, unlocking the door and helping me inside before making his way to the driver's seat.

As we drove away from the courthouse, I couldn't help but feel a sense of closure. My marriage may have ended in betrayal and deceit but now I was free to move on and start over.

"So what's next for you?" Harry asked as we drove through the city streets.

“ I think we should celebrate.” I looked at him with a playful smile.

"Celebrate?" Harry raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "And what did you have in mind for this celebration, Mrs. Y/N?"

I grinned mischievously, leaning over to gently tap his knee. "Oh, nothing too wild. Maybe just a quiet dinner for two at a cozy little bistro."

"A quiet dinner, hmm?" Harry's smirk grew wider. "And what about later, when we're no longer 'quiet'? Any ideas for that celebration?"

"Well," I purred, eyeing him up and down playfully. "That all depends on how good of a date you turn out to be."

"I'll have you know," he countered confidently, "that I'm an excellent date."

"Oh really? And what sort of things do excellent dates do to impress their partners?" I challenged him with a teasing glint in my eye.

Harry chuckled softly before leaning closer to me. "I believe the key to impressing you, love," he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine, "lies somewhere between your pasta and your dessert."

"And exactly how do you plan on pulling that off?" I asked skeptically but with undeniable curiosity piqued within me.

"Oh," he smirked wickedly as he brushed a strand of hair away from my face. "I'm sure I can come up with something...tasty."

We arrived at the bistro and Harry led me inside, his hand resting on my lower back. The smell of freshly baked bread and spices filled my nostrils as we were greeted by the friendly hostess. She guided us to a cozy booth in the corner of the restaurant before handing us each a menu.

As we perused through the options, I couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment with Harry. Despite the chaos that had been my life recently, he was there to make me smile and forget about all my worries. I was grateful to be able to be like this with him.

"You know," Harry said, breaking the comfortable silence between us, "I haven't had a proper date night in ages."

I smiled at him. Soon after the waiter came to take our orders and after much deliberation, we settled on sharing a few appetizers and ordering our own entrees. As we waited for our food to arrive, Harry reached across the table to take hold of my hand.

"I'm proud of you," he said sincerely, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "You handled everything with grace and strength."

I felt tears welling up in my eyes at his words. It meant so much to have Harry's support and encouragement through everything I had been going through.

"Thank you," I replied softly, unable to find any other words to express how much his words meant to me.

Our food arrived shortly after and we dug into our dishes with enthusiasm. We laughed and joked as we shared bites of each other's meals, savoring every moment together.

After dinner, Harry insisted on treating me to dessert at a nearby ice cream shop. We walked through the bustling streets hand in hand, enjoying each other's company in the warm summer night.

As we sat on a bench outside the shop, enjoying our ice cream.

My voice trembles as I stare at Harry, regret and guilt weighing heavily on my chest. "I should've left Teddy that night after the motel," I confess, tears welling up in my eyes. "But I was scared. Scared of losing my residency, scared of facing my family's disappointment. I thought I could endure it for a while longer, or that he would be the one to leave first." My words choke in my throat, coming out as a desperate plea for forgiveness.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," I continue, my voice shaking. "I never meant to hurt you or lead you on. I was just...lost and confused."

Harry's expression softens as he takes in my words. He reaches out to brush away a tear that falls from my eye.

"You don't have to apologize, love," he says gently. "I understand why you stayed with him. But I wish you had told me sooner."

The guilt bubbles up inside of me, threatening to drown me in its heavy weight. How could I have been so blind and selfish? How could I have hurt someone who cared?

"I'll make it right, Harry," I promise him, wiping away the tears from my cheeks.

Harry's eyes light up with hope as he grasps my hand tightly.

"We'll face this together," he says firmly, determination evident in his voice.

And just like that, the burden on my shoulders feels a little bit lighter knowing that I have Harry by my side.

"It's okay," he whispers soothingly, kissing the top of my head. "You did the right thing.”

We finish our ice cream in comfortable silence before heading back to Harry's flat.

"Can I ask you something?" I say, breaking the silence.

"Of course," Harry replies, squeezing my hand reassuringly.

"Why did you never tell me your feelings before?" I ask, feeling a little hesitant.

Harry pauses for a moment before answering. "I didn't want to pressure you or make things awkward between us," he admits. "I wanted you to be happy and if that meant staying with Teddy, then I accepted it. So I left, I couldn’t see you in that situation."

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I realize just how selfless and understanding Harry has always been despite his hardened appearence. He truly cares.

"I'm sorry for being so blind," I say softly.

"It's okay," Harry reassures me. "We all make mistakes."

My heart was pounding as we entered the safety of his flat, my senses heightened by the lingering scent of his cologne. Our fingers traced each other's as he deftly made two cups of steaming tea, every touch sending sparks dancing up my arm.

"Would you like a touch of cream?" Harry asked seductively, a teasing smile playing along his lips. His sultry voice sent trepidating waves through me, igniting an insatiable desire that twisted in my belly.

The sight of him leaning casually against the kitchen counter, bathed in soft light, stirred a primal need within me. I watched as he poured a dash of cream into my cup. The way it swirled and mingled with the dark liquid mirrored our own dance - two intricate beings melding to form something far more tantalizing.

"Thank you," I murmured, accepting the warm mug from his hand. My fingers brushed against his, eliciting a delicate shiver that rippled down my spine. "I couldn't have asked for anyone better..."

As we navigated our way towards the plush sofa, our bodies brushed together, the heat between us flaring like a bonfire on a cold night. The taste of our shared dinner still lingered on our tongues as we sipped on our teas; notes of cocoa and warm spices cascading over our taste buds.

He leaned back onto the couch, pulling me with him until I was nestled comfortably against his side. A silence fell upon us as we enjoyed our drinks; comfortable and yet teeming with an unspoken promise of what was to come.

"There's no rush," Harry purred into my ear, allowing his fingers to trace lazy circles around my wrist. His hot breath fanned out across my heated skin, setting off tremors beneath my flesh. "Let's just enjoy this moment."

His words washed over me like scalding water, igniting a yearning that threatened to consume us both. I finished my tea swiftly, setting the empty cup on the coffee table before turning back to Harry.

"Harry," I breathed out, staring into his deep emerald eyes. They were dark with desire, a mirror of my own want. "I want you...now."

With those words, our evening took on an entirely new flavor - one more intimate and fervently carnal than the most decadent dessert. And as I let go of all inhibitions and allowed myself to drown in Harry's love- the guilt and fear felt like distant memories.

Where there had been tears earlier now blossomed laughter and sighs of pleasure, echoing off the walls of Harry's flat. The heat between us couldn't be contained within mere cups of tea. It was a passionate flame that ignited every sense, searing through every inch of our bodies as we began to explore each other with newfound fervor and desperation.

The room seemed to shrink as my words echoed around us. I could feel myself growing wetter by the second, my heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come. Without another word, he stood up and pulled me close, our bodies pressing tightly against each other.

My hands found their way to his strong shoulders, digging into his skin as he claimed my lips once more. I moaned deeply into the kiss, tasting the tea we just drank on his tongue as he explored every inch of my mouth. His hands traveled down my back, over my ass cheeks, until they reached the hem of my dress.

I gasped as he lifted me off the ground with ease, carrying me towards the bedroom. My legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him closer still. As we entered the room he kicked the door shut behind us, locking us in together.

As he backed me towards the bed, his cock growing hard, he paused to look down at me. His eyes dark and hungry as he took in the scene laid out before him. "You look so fucking sexy like this," he growled out, his voice rough with desire. I moaned in response, my fingers curling into the sheets beneath us as he lowered me onto the mattress.

His lips trailed hot kisses down my jawline and across my collarbone before moving southward. He nipped at my sensitive flesh while his hands explored every inch of my body, tracing patterns around my tits through the lace fabric of my bra. My breath hitched as his warm mouth hovered over my nipples, making them stand at attention.

"Please," I whispered, arching into him as he teased one of my hardened nubs between his fingers and thumb. His tongue circled around it before finally drawing it into his mouth, sucking on it with such force that I cried out in pleasure.

He pulled away slightly, looking down at me with a smirk that made my stomach do flips. "I'm going to fuck you so good, baby girl." His eyes bore into mine as he slowly undid his pants, revealing his already hard cock straining against his boxers. My mouth watered at the sight of him; all 8 inches of thickness glistening with pre-cum that reflected the light in the room.

I reached up to grab his shirt, pulling him down towards me as I wrapped my legs around his waist again. He groaned into the kiss, deepening it as he lowered himself onto the bed between my spread legs. His teeth grazed against my bottom lip before trailing hot kisses down my neck and chest.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath as he reached behind me to undo the clasp holding together my bra. It fell away from me revealing puckered nipples begging for attention which he eagerly obliged by taking one into his mouth while pinching the other between two fingers causing tiny whimpers to escape from deep within me.

His lips trailed down my stomach, stopping momentarily to press kisses to my belly button before continuing their journey south. I shivered with anticipation as his fingers hooked into the sides of my lace panties, pulling them down and off of me in one swift motion.

He took a moment to admire me, spread out before him, completely exposed and vulnerable. His gaze traveled over every inch of me, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, before diving back in between my legs. His tongue flicked against my clit sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. I gripped onto the sheets tighter as he continued to tease and lick at my most sensitive spot.

I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, his expert mouth bringing me to the brink. Just when I thought I couldn't take it any longer, he pulled away with a smirk on his face.

"Not yet," he said huskily, crawling back up towards me. He kissed me hard on the lips while positioning himself between my legs. I felt his tip brush against my entrance and I lifted my hips in response.

The room around us was hazy from the scent of our arousal, and I couldn't help but feel like I was in a dream as he continued to tease me. With every lick and nip, his touch sent shockwaves of pleasure through me. My body arched off the bed in response to his expert ministrations, my breasts pressed against his strong chest.

"You taste so fucking good," he groaned, his voice dark and rough with need. His hands slid up my thighs, teasingly close to my aching desire before moving away again. It was driving me crazy!

"Please," I begged him. "I can't take much more."

He chuckled deep in his throat, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "Oh, you think you can handle me?" He leaned down and flicked his tongue gently over my clitoris again, making me gasp in surprise at the intense sensation. "We'll see about that."

I couldn't believe how turned on I was by his dominance. As he continued to tease me, I imagined what it would be like to fully submit to him—to let him take control of my body and pleasure me however he saw fit. It was terrifying yet exhilarating all at once.

It felt like hours (or maybe just minutes?) before he finally eased himself into me, filling me up with his thick cock. I gasped at the sudden intrusion but moaned in delight as he began to move slowly inside me. Every thrust sent violent shudders through my body as we found our rhythm together—his hard and demanding possessions; mine willingly given submission underneath him amidst silk pillows and warm blankets scattered across the sheets beneath us.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into me, wanting more, needing more. His hands gripped onto my hips, holding me in place as he continued to thrust into me with increasing speed and force.

I could feel the pleasure building inside of me, growing and swelling until it was almost unbearable. My nails dug into his back as I cried out his name, consumed by the intensity of our union.

He leaned down and captured my lips in a fiery kiss that only added fuel to the fire burning between us. Our bodies moved together in perfect synchronization, reaching higher levels of ecstasy with each passing moment.

The bed rocked beneath us as we gave into pure primal desire. He was an unstoppable force, taking everything from me and giving it back tenfold.

"Fuck," he groaned against my lips, his voice thick with need. "You're so tight."

"Oh, God," I moaned, my toes curling against the sheets. "Don't stop."

He didn't listen to me of course; instead, he continued to pound into me relentlessly, driving me towards the edge again and again until I couldn't take it anymore. My orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave, consuming every ounce of my being and leaving me shaking in its wake. He followed close behind with a muffled groan as he spilled himself inside of me. He collapsed on top of me, both of us gasping for breath as we came down from our high.

We lay there tangled together for a few moments before he rolled off of me onto his side. He pulled me against him, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist.

"Wow," I finally managed to say.

We lay there panting for several minutes afterward, our heartbeats echoing in our ears above everything else around us.

Finally, he disentangled himself from me and collapsed next to me on the bed, both of us spent and covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Fuck," he breathed out as he ran a hand through his damp hair.

"That was..." I trailed off unable to find the words to describe the intensity of our union.

He let out a bitter, exhausted chuckle laced with satisfaction. "I swore I'd never marry again, but if this is what life could be like on a regular basis, I may have to reconsider," he muttered through gritted teeth. The thought of committing himself again brought a surge of both fear and longing, but for the first time in years, he felt alive.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape, he turned to me with a mix of vulnerability and determination in his eyes. "I never thought I'd find someone who could make me question my own convictions," he said softly, reaching out to gently touch my hand.

I looked back at him, her own eyes filled with understanding and a hint of mischief. "Maybe it's time to rewrite those old promises," I suggested, a smile playing on my lips.

A sense of peace settled over him as he realized that maybe, just maybe, he was ready to take a chance on love once more. With a hopeful heart and a newfound sense of purpose, he whispered, "Maybe it is."

As the last rays of sunlight slipped beneath the horizon, their eyes locked and they both felt an electric current surge through their bodies. It was a sign that their journey together was just starting and would be filled with endless twists and turns, but they were ready for the challenge.

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naomeii · 11 months ago

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Hooo boy, this one's heavy. Could I request Neuvillette and his wife getting into such a heated argument that she, in her frustration and exhaustion, asks him if he wants a divorce? Ashamed, she turns to leave, only for her husband, who's in tears, to hug and beg her not to leave him.

Love's verdict.

—Pairings: Neuvillette x Wife!Reader

Content : Domestic fluff, tiny bit of angst

Neuvillette and (Y/N) stood in their living quarters, the air thick with tension. The usually composed Chief Justice looked visibly perturbed, and (Y/N) was fed up with the perpetual distance between them.

"(Y/N), I must ask you to understand the constraints of my position. Personal matters should not interfere with my duty," Neuvillette insisted, his tone clipped.

(Y/N) couldn't hold back anymore. "Neuvi, this isn't about your duty. It's about us. You're never here, emotionally or physically. It's like you're married to Fontaine, not me. I can't take it anymore!"

Neuvillette sighed, "My duty is to Fontaine, and Fontaine is my responsibility. You knew this when we got married."

(Y/N) was frustrated, feeling a mix of anger and hurt. "I didn't sign up to be a widow while you're still alive. I need a husband, not a distant figure hidden behind the title of Chief Justice. Do you even care about us?"

Neuvillette's expression hardened, "This is bigger than us. It's about the people, the justice I serve. You knew that sacrifice was part of the deal."

(Y/N) took a deep breath, her patience wearing thin. "I can't do this anymore, Neuvillette. I need a partner, not someone married to his job. If this is how it's always going to be, do you even want to be married?"

The room fell silent, the weight of (Y/N)'s words hanging in the air. Neuvillette's stoic facade wavered for a moment, and he looked at (Y/N) with a mix of frustration and realization.

"(Y/N), divorce is not an option. It's not something I can entertain. My duty—"

(Y/N) interrupted, tears welling up in her eyes, "Do you even love me, Neuvillette? Or am I just a placeholder in your life?"

The Chief Justice hesitated, a rare moment of vulnerability crossing his face. "(Y/N), I—"

Cutting him off, (Y/N) took a step back, her voice shaky but resolute, "Think about it, Neuvillette. If you can't find a way to be a husband as well as the Chief Justice, maybe we need to reconsider this whole thing."

As (Y/N) reached for the doorknob, the distant sound of thunder rumbled through the air, and the room dimmed as dark clouds gathered outside. She sighed, realizing the storm outside mirrored the one inside their home.

Just as she was about to leave, Neuvillette's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. Startled, she turned to see him, tears streaking down his face, a sight so rare it sent shivers down her spine.

"(Y/N), please," Neuvillette's voice quivered with a mix of desperation and sorrow. He pulled her back gently, and in an unexpected move, wrapped his arms around her.

"Neuvi, let go," (Y/N) said, her voice softening despite the turmoil within her.

But Neuvillette clung tighter, burying his face in her shoulder. His usually composed demeanor shattered, revealing a vulnerable side that (Y/N) had rarely seen.

"Don't leave, (Y/N). I can't bear the thought of losing you," Neuvillette pleaded, his voice breaking.

(Y/N) felt a mix of emotions, torn between her frustration and the raw vulnerability in Neuvillette's embrace. The storm outside intensified, rain pelting against the windows.

"I can't keep living like this, Neuvi," she whispered, her own tears mixing with the raindrops on the windowpane.

Neuvillette tightened his grip, his body trembling. "I know I've been distant, but I can change. Just please, don't leave me. I can't face a life without you."

His words hung in the air, the sincerity cutting through the tension. (Y/N) hesitated, her heart aching at the sight of her husband in such agony. She softened, placing a hand on his back.

"Neuvi, we need to talk. We can't go on like this, but maybe there's a way we can find a compromise," she said gently.

Neuvillette pulled back, looking into her eyes with a mixture of hope and gratitude. The storm outside began to subside, as if nature itself was responding to the shifting dynamics within the room.

As they sat down to talk, the rain outside turned into a soft drizzle, a symbolic reflection of the possibility of healing and resolution.

Several weeks passed, and a noticeable change came over Neuvillette. The once stoic Chief Justice now found himself making an effort to bridge the emotional gap between him and (Y/N). He began to express his feelings more openly, his interactions reflecting a newfound warmth.

One evening, as (Y/N) was preparing dinner, Neuvillette approached her, a hint of shyness in his eyes. "I wanted to help," he said, offering a small smile.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow in surprise but couldn't help but smile back. "Well, don't just stand there. Grab an apron. We're making this together."

Neuvillette awkwardly tied the apron, a bit unfamiliar with the domestic setting. As they worked side by side, cutting vegetables and stirring pots, he attempted to engage in casual conversation. "Have I mentioned that your cooking is one of the things I love the most?"

(Y/N) chuckled, "You've never mentioned it, but I appreciate the sentiment."

As days passed, Neuvillette's demeanor continued to shift. He became more attentive and, surprisingly, a bit shy. He'd occasionally steal glances at (Y/N) when he thought she wasn't looking, his gaze filled with a mixture of love and uncertainty.

One day, as (Y/N) was about to head out, Neuvillette caught her by the hand. "Do you really have to go? Can't you stay a bit longer?" His voice held a hint of vulnerability.

(Y/N) grinned playfully, "What happened to the Chief Justice who used to value duty above all else? Are you trying to shirk your responsibilities?"

Neuvillette blushed, looking down, "Well, maybe I've realized there are things more important than duty."

(Y/N) teased, slipping away, "Well, we can't have the Chief Justice neglecting his duties now, can we?"

But Neuvillette surprised her by swiftly lifting her off the ground, peppering her face with kisses. "(Y/N), you're the most important thing to me. I can't let you go without a proper goodbye."

Caught off guard, (Y/N) laughed, "Okay, okay! Put me down, you goof!"

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #reader insert #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #genshin fluff #angst to comfort #genshin impact angst #neuvilette #neuvillette x you #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #fontaine #neuvillette x y/n

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pixeltwix · 21 days ago

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Alone Together Au (except it’s the other half left behind)

In which both Stanford and Fiddleford fall through the portal and both Stan and Emma May work together to bring them back (even with two people it still takes thirty years, oops)

Together though they keep a marriage of convenience so that the town doesn’t suspect anything odd of them. Everyone still thinks Stan is Stanford and Emma May simply says she got a divorce from her old husband and remarried

“Come one, come call, to see the awe inspiring ability of Madame Mystery! Only 30 bucks a pop, and there ain’t no refunds, the spirits hate refunds~“

Emma May works as a sort of telepath and psychic medium in the mystery shack before the Gleeful’s rolled into town. Her true inspiration however is from the twins mother, Caryn. She recalls all of her tricks and swindles she watched the woman do when she was younger and was happy to apply them for herself <3

All together though her get up resembles much more of a fairy godmother type appeal than anything else (which Mabel loves)

Even though Stan and Em were friends in the past it was still undoubtedly difficult to yknow, pass as a married couple at first.

Eventually they pulled it off effortlessly in public, but there’s still a lot of emotional turmoil behind closed doors. Em missing her actual husband desperately and Stan having to juggle that, Tate’s bitterness towards him, and the fake identity

They don’t hate each other or anything though, quite the opposite, they feel they’re the only support the other has after Tate moved out to live by the lake. Ultimately at the end of the day while it seems they’re just a ‘bitter old married couple’ they’ll be the first to back each other up

Emma May acquired a pretty nasty scar after the portal incident, so she began to style her bangs over her eyes to prevent anyone from seeing them. The only one who occasionally does is Stan, but when you’re working into the ams on a portal you can’t comprehend it’s hard to care too much about said scar

But this doesn’t stop Dipper from speculating what she could be hiding under the bangs

“I don’t know, but I reckon it feels like the end of the world.”

In order to convince Stan to come to Gravity Falls, Em sends the postcard copying Fords handwriting to bait him to Oregon. Once he shows up though he’s shocked to find his brother actually didn’t want to see him at all and it was instead her who wants to talk

She promptly explains she needs backup confronting Ford and Fiddleford because while she can get through to Fiddleford she worries no one can get through to Ford. Her last resort was asking for Stans help

Things do not..go very well though. Ford and Stan still fight, Fiddleford tries to break them up and accidentally gets shoved alongside Ford. Meanwhile Em is the only one close enough for Stan to actually grab hold of before the portal shuts off and the two are left alone together

And then the last silly detail atm regarding Tate

Little dude ✨hates✨ Stan

He blames him for his father falling through the portal and he absolutely detests the ‘uncle/friendly paternal’ type role he tries to fill as he grows up

He can’t help but feel bitter towards his mother as well considering she was so quick to marry Stan as well, even with the context of the situation, even if it was just on paper, even if he knows they’re working to get the two back. It still felt like a betrayal

Once he was old enough he moved out to live by the lake where he eventually opens his tackle shop, but fishing isn’t exactly the only job he has

Knowing Tate is potentially even more intelligent than his father he found the memory gun when he was around the twins age, made himself leader of the society of the blind eye as he’s ‘the heir’, and promptly continues to run the cult in the bg as he feels it’s what his dad would want him to do

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botanicalsword · 9 months ago

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Plutonic love ♡

Pluto - The entanglement of power, wealth, and desire

The influence by Pluto includes jealousy, competition, fear, abandonment, power struggles, and psychological control.

In Plutonic love, one may easily strip the other of their voice, leaving them with a sense of identity loss. They may also exert control over the other person or use materials as a means of control

Tarot - The Devil, where such interactions may not necessarily stem from love but rather from practical constraints. One may be financially dependent on the other or there may be financial entanglements that make it difficult to leave the relationship.

Forbidden Love • Venus conjunct Pluto

The fate brought about by Pluto's influence often leads both parties into a forbidden relationship, especially when there is a conjunction between Pluto and Venus.

Pluto signifies a deep transformation of a relationship, and it seeks to obtain the desired connection from an impossible form or state, such as extramarital affairs, infidelity, or polyamorous relationships.

One with a stronger Pluto influence tends to desire breaking the taboo, while the one with weaker Plutonic energy may end up being the one ultimately sacrificed.

When the person who has been sacrificed feels hurt or abandoned, they may naturally want to get back at the other person as a way of making up for the pain and unfairness they have experienced.

8th House Synastry : Sexual Magnetism

The 8th house in an astrological chart is considered the darkest corner of the chart, associated with secrecy and mystery.

When someone's Sun or Moon falls into another person's 8th house, it can easily create a strong attraction because people are often drawn to what is illuminated.

Similarly, when someone's Venus or Mars falls into another person's 8th house, it can create a highly magnetic and sexually attractive connection for one whose house is being activated.

The hard aspects (conjunction, square, opposition) between someone's Sun and Pluto or Mars and Pluto can signify potential indications of power and control. Sexual tension often occurs in contexts where power is abused or there is an unequal power dynamic.

Pluto in the 7th house

Intimate relationships become a key point of personal transformation.

In pursuit of deep connections, one with Pluto in 7th House often become deeply invested in complex emotional bonds and have a tendency to test the depth of their emotional connection with their partners.

Pluto in the 7th house may often find themselves emotional wounded, carrying the scars of past relationships that can lead to outbursts of anger and emotional turmoil.

Pluto in the 7th house frequently strive to suppress their own anger in order to maintain the relationship. The manipulative nature can sometimes lead to the complete destruction. They easily engage in power struggles with their intimate or business partners.

They have a strong desire to find their soulmate and believe in past life connections. They may excel as counselors or therapists. However, their intimate relationships are often marked by fear, jealousy, secrecy, and even betrayal.

Trust becomes an issue, leading to divorce or the loss of a partner.

>> Masterlist | table of contents

Astrology should be used as a potential indicator of someone's behavior or the outcome of a relationship. It is just one factor among many that can provide insights and potential tendencies. Personal choices, personal growth, and communication also play significant roles in the dynamics of relationships.

#astro community #astro posts #astrology #astro #astro observations #astrology placement #overlays #synastry #synastry observations #loa

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waynes-multiverse · 8 months ago

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Polaris – Series Masterlist

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, law enforcement themes (incl. serial killers, kidnappings, cartels etc.), marital themes (incl. divorce, cheating etc.), general emotional turmoil & an unhealthy amount of flashbacks

A/N: Inspired by this little Dirty Drabble I wrote about our favorite sheriff comes a series full of sexy heartbreak and a look into Beau Arlen’s past. Buckle up and get ready for another emotional ride 🤍

Main Masterlist || Beau Arlen Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 1: Caught Up In A Moment

Chapter 2: No Signs, No Compasses

Chapter 3: Pour The Whiskey

Chapter 4: Rewind

Chapter 5: Illicit Affairs

Chapter 6: Curses And Cries

Chapter 7: Storm Coming

Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds

Chapter 9: Marooned

Chapter 10: It Matters

Chapter 11: You With Me

Chapter 12: Through – JANUARY 3 Chapter 13: Sure And Certain

ONE SHOTS & OTHER:

Jurisdiction (Prequel)

#polaris #polaris masterlist #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen x y/n #big sky #big sky season 3 #big sky fanfic #big sky reader insert #beau arlen series #beau arlen reader insert #beau arlen fluff #beau arlen smut #jensen ackles #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles reader insert

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mononijikayu · 8 months ago

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good luck, babe! — ieiri shoko.

Tears well up in your eyes as you recall that particular day. It was as though you were both bathed in sunlight, her brown eyes shimmering with happiness. But as you both confronted the reality of a future you could not share, tears poured from those beautiful eyes. There was only hurt—a hurt you had forced upon her. Her hands, strong yet gentle, had held yours with a desperate sorrow, promising a love that could not be confined by the world’s expectations, yet ultimately falling victim to them.

Genre: Hidden Inventory Arc to Pre-JJK 0, 2006 - 2015;

Warning/s: First Love, Emotional Turmoil, Breakup, Heartbreak, Angst, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Mature Themes, Cultural/Familial Expectations, Internal Conflict, Cultural Challenges, Mental and Emotional Stress, Angst with Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Romance, Love and Heartbreak, Healing, Growth, Reconciliation, WLW, Second Chances, Relationship Dynamics, Supportive Siblings, Breaking Traditions, Depiction of Implied Homophobia, Depiction of Comphet, Depiction of Smoking, Depiction of Alcohol Use, Mention of Divorce;

masterlist

listen: good luck babe by chappell roan

note: this is the au of let you break my heart again and magnetic. this is if gojo! sister lived and managed to not suffer from a curse. i think this happy ending is well deserved for the two of them. live long and prosper, shoko and gojo! sister!!! :']

2007

SHOKO THINKS IT’S FINE, THAT IT’S COOL. But as she takes another swing from lip and cigarette, to smoke and blow, she knows it's not fine, it's not cool. In the quiet confines of her office, Ieiri Shoko sat hunched over her desk, her usual composed demeanor replaced by a visible layer of distress. Papers lay scattered around, untouched, as her mind replayed the painful moment of your breakup over and over again. The clinical cleanliness of the room couldn't sterilize the heartache she felt. The memory of your words, the finality in your voice, pressed heavily on her, and yet, deep down, she understood the reasons but couldn't accept them.

Shoko had always known the weight of the expectations placed upon you as being Gojo Satoru's sister and a high-ranking lady of your clan. You had always lived in a world bounded by strict traditions and rigid rules—constraints that you, unlike Satoru, never rebelled against openly. Your compliance with these traditions was out of a sense of duty, perhaps even a desire to shield your family from scandal of Satoru’s dislike for tradition, and to maintain the facade of propriety expected of you.

It’s not like Shoko blames Satoru. He himself deals with the pressure of existing just by having his cursed technique. He’s stuck in a hard and a rock place with clan politics and just as much, loving Suguru and mourning his loss from his life — how he’s still protecting him even after all this time, There’s so much that the higher ups think they don’t like about him. You didn’t have to break up with Shoko about it. You can have a choice about it, as Satoru has. But you were too good, a goodie little two shoes. You felt like you had to make up for the mistakes, to correct yourself because the clan says so. And Shoko hates it, she hates that about you. But she hates how she can’t hate you. She hates how much she loves you.

For you, loving Shoko was a truth you buried deep under layers of obligation and appearances. Each stolen moment with her had felt like a breath of freedom, but also like stepping closer to the edge of a precipice. You knew the consequences of a life lived openly with her, how it would be seen as a defiance of your family’s values, a betrayal of the lineage you were born into. The love you felt for Shoko was real, potent, and transformative, but it was also a danger to the life you were conditioned to lead.

Shoko, with her sharp mind and gentle heart, had seen the struggle within you. She knew the love wasn’t one-sided; it was palpable, vibrant, and life-affirming. That was what made the break–up so excruciating. She didn’t feel like a fool for loving you, but she was a fool for hoping that love would overcome it all. She was hoping that love might be enough to inspire you to choose a different path. And somehow, with that hope, she just ended up disappointed.

The moment lingered between you, heavy and dense, the air thick with unsaid words and stifled emotions. Despite the pain that was evident in your eyes—a mixture of regret and sorrow—there was an undeniable firmness, a resolve that spoke volumes about the decision you had made. It was a painful choice, undeniably, but it came from a place deep within you, where truth outweighs comfort and where integrity demands sacrifices.

You stood there, your stance solid yet somber, reflecting the inner turmoil that had been a constant companion in the days leading up to this moment. The decision to end things hadn't come lightly. It was the culmination of countless sleepless nights, of endless internal debates, and of painful reflections on what it meant to truly love someone—not just in the joyful moments but also in letting go when the paths diverged too greatly.

As you spoke the words, your voice was steady but not without emotion. Each syllable seemed to carry a weight, each pause filled with the echoes of shared memories and dreams that would remain unfulfilled. "This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do," you admitted, the honesty in your voice cutting through the tension. "But it's necessary—for both of us.”

“Does what I have to say matter in this?” Shoko asks, her voice shaking as she looks at you, her face the epitome of grief. The break–up hasn’t even happened. And yet, she just felt like the world fell apart. “How…why? At least tell me why?”

“I can’t do this, Shoko. It isn’t just about us,” you had said, your voice trembling despite the firmness of your words. “I have responsibilities, expectations... I cannot be truly yours without losing everything else.”

Shoko had tried to argue, her own heart breaking as she spoke. “But what about what you want? What about love? I thought you loved me.”

You felt tears prickle your eyes. “I do. I do love you.”

“Then why are you leaving me?”

Your answer had been a quiet, devastating whisper. “Sometimes, it's not enough to just love. I’m not good enough to be strong, Shoko. I….I’m sorry.”

She huffs the air as though she was choking on it. Shoko starts laughing like a mad woman, which only made you feel as though tears would never end. Shaking her head at you, you looked at her almost pleadingly, as though to say, ‘please, i love you. I’m sorry.’ It was cruel of you, Shoko thinks, how you could easily pull her heart strings with your tears. Oh she hates it. She hates how she loves you.

“Then, good luck babe.” She retorts back at you, as though she was cursing you. As if she was releasing all the pain in one tsunami wave. “Really, good luck. Good luck. Good luck.”

“Shoko—”

She shakes her head again, raising a hand to stop you. “Leave. Please. I don’t want you here.”

Now, alone, Shoko allowed herself to grieve not just for the relationship lost, but for you as well. She grieved for the person who had to hide their true self, who had to mask their desires and dreams in the shadow of duty. She grieved for herself, too, for the future she had allowed herself to imagine, however briefly.

In her solitude, Shoko couldn't help but feel abandoned, yet she couldn’t truly resent you for your choice. She understood all too well the cultural and familial shackles that bound you. This understanding didn’t alleviate her pain; it compounded it, knowing you were out there somewhere, continuing to deny the essential parts of yourself.

As the night deepened and the lights in her office flickered softly, Shoko realized this might be her own crossroads: could she move on, knowing you were still in the world, just out of reach, yet forever distant? Her heart still ached with love for you, a love she feared might never find its resolution in her lifetime.

The door to Shoko Ieiri's office swung open with a soft creak, and there stood Satoru Gojo, his usual carefree demeanor slightly muted as he stepped inside. His arrival was unannounced, as was his style, but the timing couldn't have been more intrusive. Shoko, still engulfed in her storm of emotions, looked up sharply, her face a mix of surprise and annoyance.

"Not now, Gojo," she snapped, her voice brittle with barely contained anger. "I'm really not in the mood for your jokes or whatever you're planning to pull."

Gojo seemed to understand easily. For the first time in his life, he closed the door quietly behind him, his usual grin replaced by a more serious expression. He hadn’t looked this serious since that day. But Shoko thinks it doesn’t suit him. He was meant to be a foolish little boy in a grown man’s body. He ignored her request for solitude and instead, walked over and sat down across from her, with his long legs criss–crossed and his bright blue eyes meeting hers with an unusually heavy gravity. Shoko can only surmise that infinity is closed.

"I'm not here to joke, Sho," He said gently as he looked at her. "I heard about what happened between you and my sister. It’s just….. I'm really sorry."

Shoko's demeanor faltered for a moment, the hardness in her doe-like eyes giving way to a more wounded vulnerability. She looked down at her desk, her fingers playing with a pen, her guard slowly coming down in the face of Gojo's sincerity—a rarity that she knew meant he was genuinely concerned. She’s tried not to think about it. It was hard to think about it. But now that he’d brought it up, all she could remember was your tear–stricken face as you tried to turn around and run away, sobbing as you left her all alone.

"Sorry doesn't change things, Gojo. It doesn’t fix anything," she muttered, her voice thick with emotion. “She still broke up with me. And now she’s damn…she’s left me, to uphold some bullshit lie about herself."

"I know," Gojo replied softly, sighing shortly after. Shoko thinks that Gojo understands best. After all, the love of his life left him too. And he doesn't know if he'll ever see him again. "Listen, she's hurting too. and I just..."

Shoko sighed heavily, allowing herself to meet his gaze. "I know she's hurting. But I’m hurting too, okay? She’s hurt me. She's keeping up with the lie she's been told, that loving me is going to be a taint on you and your family."

“I know. And it's not your fault. It’s none of your fault. It’s….” He lets a breath pass through his lips. “It’s just, she hasn’t seen it through yet.”

"Gojo, I just feel like a fool," She admitted, her voice a whisper of defeat. "I allowed myself to believe that things could be different, that love might be enough to overcome everything else. I love her so damn much, Gojo. I love her too much, I’m willing to go through this. But I should have known better."

Gojo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Hey, you're not a fool for believing in love and hoping it would work out" he said earnestly. "It's one of the few things worth being foolish for. And you’re not alone in hoping things can change. I think…I think she wishes things would change too.”

Shoko looked away for a moment, gathering her thoughts. When she spoke again, her voice was steadier, but the hurt was still palpable. "It's like we're being punished for something that should be celebrated. Our love wasn't a rebellion, Gojo. It was just... love."

Gojo's eyes held a deep understanding, tinged with a hint of sadness. He knew too well the pain that came with having love tangled grievous prejudice. His response was a whisper, meant as much for himself as for Shoko. "The world can be cruel to those who dare to live authentically, who dare to defy what it deems normal."

Shoko's eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill over. The intensity of her feelings, the struggle to maintain her composure, painted a vivid picture of the emotional toll the situation had exacted. "Why is it," she choked out, the words barely a breath, "that what feels so right to us, so fundamentally pure, is what they seek to destroy? Why must love come with such high costs?"

Gojo reached out, his touch tentative, not wanting to presume but needing to offer some comfort. His hand found her arm, a gentle reassurance that she was not alone. "Because, Sho," he said softly, "Fear drives people to oppression. They fear what they cannot understand, cannot control. And nothing is less controllable than genuine human emotions, genuine love. It threatens them. It’s that powerful.”

Shoko turned to face him now, her gaze fierce despite the tears that streaked her cheeks. "And what if she can't see that, Gojo? What if she's too caught up in the fear, too wary of the repercussions to take a stand with me?"

The question hung between them, heavy and suffocating. Gojo Satoru felt the weight of her despair, mirroring his own past hurts, reflecting the battles he had fought to keep love winning—some won, some lost, but all leaving scars. But he hoped that Shoko wouldn’t give up. That you wouldn’t give up. He’d at least be happy to know that both of you got the happy ending that Suguru and him would never find in this lifetime. He gives a small smile at her direction.

"Then, Shoko," Gojo said, his voice steady despite the turmoil he felt, "You fight enough for both of you until she can find the strength. You live your truth so boldly, so unapologetically, that it becomes a beacon for her... for anyone who’s lost in the shadows of their fears. You become the light that not only guides but also inspires."

"But what if that's not enough?" Shoko's voice broke on the words, a whisper of desperation lacing through. "What if my fight only drives her further away, into the safety of shadows, where I can't reach her?"

Gojo had no easy answers, no promises that the path they chose would lead to the outcomes they hoped for. "Then you love her from afar," he murmured, his own experiences lending pain to his words. "You love her, and you let her go, hoping that someday, the world you're fighting for—a world where love is celebrated in all its forms—will be the world she walks back into."

The silence that followed was filled with shared sorrow, a mutual recognition of the love and loss that had colored both their lives. Shoko nodded slowly, a quiet acceptance of the hard truths they'd laid bare. She wiped away her tears, straightening her shoulders as if physically bracing herself against the pain.

"Thank you, Gojo," she said finally, her voice firmer now, tempered in the fires of their conversation. "For understanding, for being here."

Gojo offered a small, sad smile. "Always, Sho. You’re almost like family — no, you’re family to me. No matter how dark it gets, you're not alone. Remember that."

As they parted ways, the resolve hardened in Shoko—a resolve not just to fight, but to endure, to hope, and to continue loving, no matter the cost. And in that resolve, she found a sliver of peace amid the turmoil.

As long as you’ll be waiting for her on the other side,

It would be worth it, being in all this pain and grief.

Shoko thinks about your smile, your kisses on her skin.

Maybe one day, she’ll see you in her arms again.

2013

YOU DON’T SLEEP VERY WELL. You fear that you’d sleep and see Shoko again. You fear that you’ll continue to be haunted. But you suppose, you already have too much that haunts you when it comes to Ieiri Shoko. Her judging eyes, the eyes you have so loved, piercing through over and over the lies behind your eyes — it hurts. It scares you. Because you had loved, still do love, her. And she continues to be your grief. A grief that perseveres in absolute devotion within the tenants of your truest heart.

In the quiet of the night, the world around you is silent and still, you find yourself once again caught in the grip of what-ifs and memories that refuse to fade. You turn slowly, your gaze falling upon the man beside you—your husband, chosen not by the whims of the heart but by the cold calculations of tradition. He breathes softly, peacefully unaware of the turmoil that keeps you awake, night after night.

He has been nothing but kind and considerate, a good man who respects the vows you both shared under the watchful eyes of the elders and your families. Satoru seems to like him enough, but your brother knows just as much as you that you wouldn’t love this man. And if you do, never truly with all your heart. Still, in these many years of marriage, he has upheld every promise he made to you, providing support, stability, and respect. Yet, as you watch him sleep, you feel a pang of guilt for the lack of love you feel, for the hollow space inside your heart that he has never been able to fill.

Your mind drifts, unbidden, to Ieiri Shoko—the love of your life, the blue spring of your eternal summers, your white nights in the winter mornings. It was her laughter echoing in your memories, her eyes bright with the promise of a life less ordinary. You remember the warmth of her touch, the way her presence seemed to make everything brighter, more real. You had loved her, truly and deeply, in a way that you had never managed to love him. She was everything that made life worth living. And you get reminded as you think about a memory.

The balcony was bathed in the soft glow of twilight, the fading sun casting long shadows that danced across the floor. Shoko stood against the railing, her silhouette outlined by the gentle light, a lit cigarette held casually between her fingers. As you entered the room, your gaze fixed on her, a subtle frown forming on your brow as you watched her with a mixture of concern and affection.

"Shoko, you know I hate that you smoke," you finally spoke up, your voice soft yet filled with genuine worry.

She turned to face you, her eyes meeting yours with a playful glint, a thin wisp of smoke curling upwards from her lips. Despite the seriousness of your words, her expression held a hint of amusement, as though she anticipated your next move. "And what, my dear, do you plan to do about it?" she replied, her tone teasing, a challenge in her voice.

Closing the distance between you, you reached out and gently took the cigarette from her hand, extinguishing it in the nearby ashtray with a simple flick of your wrist. The tension between you crackled in the air, charged with unspoken emotion and the weight of unspoken desires.

"I have a few ideas," you murmured, your voice low, filled with a mixture of determination and longing.

Without hesitation, you leaned in, capturing her lips with yours in a kiss that spoke volumes, a silent declaration of your feelings. In that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the intensity of your shared passion. Shoko responded eagerly, her arms wrapping around your neck, pulling you closer as she melted into your embrace.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, the air heavy with the heady rush of desire. Shoko's eyes sparkled with surprise and delight, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I love this idea," she laughed, her voice husky from the kiss.

Your heart swelled with hope and affection, a warmth spreading through you at her words. "Maybe we can make it a regular treatment," you suggested, a hint of playfulness in your tone.

"Sounds like the perfect remedy," Shoko agreed, her smile infectious as she leaned in for another quick kiss. As she whispered against your lips, her words carried a promise of a future filled with love and possibility. "Who needs cigarettes when I have you?"

Sitting up in bed, you stifle a sob with the back of your hand. The weight of your choices presses down on you, a burden you’ve carried through the years, growing heavier with each passing day. You had chosen this life, chosen duty and tradition over the desires of your heart, and with each choice, a piece of you had withered, lost to the shadows of regret.

You look at your husband again, his face innocent in sleep, undeserving of the resentment that sometimes brews within you. You know this is not his fault—it is the result of decisions made by others, choices rooted in outdated customs and rigid family expectations. But knowing this does nothing to ease the longing in your heart, the yearning for a path not taken, for a life lived in the full color of love rather than the grayscale of obligation.

Quietly, you slip out of bed, moving to the window where moonlight spills into the room, casting long shadows across the floor. As you gaze out at the world bathed in a silvery glow, you wonder about the life you might have had with Shoko. Would it have been easier? Would the love you shared have been enough to overcome the challenges you would have faced together?

But these questions offer no comfort, only a deepening of the ache that sits permanently in your chest. In this life, you are a wife, a role defined by others, your identity shaped by expectations you never asked for. In your heart, you mourn the woman you could have been, the life you could have led.

As the night deepens, you stand alone, lost in your thoughts, the silence of the house echoing the emptiness you feel inside. The realization that regret has become your constant companion is bitter, and you know that come morning, you will wear your mask again, the façade of the contented wife. But in the darkness, you allow yourself to grieve, to mourn a love lost to time and tradition, a reminder of all that could have been.

As you wandered through the dimly lit streets, your footsteps unsteady and your vision blurred, the city seemed to mirror your inner turmoil. The night was quiet, too quiet, and every soft echo of distant traffic or the rare passersby felt like an intrusion into your private world of sorrow. The weight of your decisions, the weight of a life lived in the shadow of what could have been, pressed down on you with every step you took.

The cold air bit at your skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of tears that streamed down your face, but it was a sobering reminder of the reality you were living. The whiskey had promised escape, a brief respite from your pain, but it had betrayed you, leaving you more exposed, more raw than before. The stark truth was unavoidable now: no amount of alcohol could fill the void left by Shoko, could smother the flames of what you still felt for her.

You paused under a streetlight, the light flickering above you as if struggling to maintain its own existence. You leaned against the cool metal of the lamppost, feeling as though it was the only thing keeping you upright. Thoughts of Shoko swirled in your head—her smile, the sound of her laughter, the way she looked at you with so much love and understanding. It hurt, remembering her like this, as though she was just out of reach, separated from you by more than just time and decisions, but by the very course of life you had chosen.

The voice in your head, her voice whispering, "I told you so," wasn't one of condemnation but of a heartbreaking foresight. She had known, perhaps even before you had allowed yourself to admit it, that the path you were choosing would lead to regret. Shoko had always seen the parts of you that you had tried to hide from the world, the parts that yearned for freedom and authenticity.

And now, standing alone under the flickering light, you allowed yourself to truly feel the magnitude of your loss. Not just Shoko, but the part of yourself that you had silenced for the sake of conformity, for the sake of a peace that now tasted bitter. You drive yourself mad at the memory of day after day of your youth together. You huffed against the cold night air as you thought about how lonely it has been, how truly upsetting it is that you chose wrong.

Eventually, you knew you had to move, had to keep walking back to the life waiting for you at home—a life that, tonight, felt like a prison. But with each step, a resolve began to form amidst the chaos of your emotions. This pain, this profound sorrow, could not be the end of your story. You couldn't allow your fears and the expectations of others to dictate the rest of your life. You owed it to yourself, and to the memory of what you and Shoko once shared, to find a way forward, to find happiness not just for your sake, but as a testament to the love that had once dared to challenge the world.

As you reached your door, a silent vow formed in your heart: you would find a way to live truly, to honor the love you still carried, and perhaps, one day, to heal. Tonight, you mourned. But tomorrow, you would begin to fight for a future where your heart no longer had to hide in the shadows.

You want to call Shoko tomorrow.

You want to hear her voice again.

You want to see her face again.

You want to love her better this time.

2014

IT WAS HARD TO HAVE A NEW START. After the tumultuous end of your marriage, returning to Tokyo felt both like a defeat and a fresh start. The ink barely dried on the divorce papers, you carried not just physical luggage but a heavy burden of emotional baggage. The dissolution of what was meant to be a lifelong commitment had left you feeling raw and exposed, but also strangely liberated, ready to reclaim the pieces of yourself that had been lost in the shadows of an unfulfilling union.

The Gojo clan, however, had its own views on your situation. Tradition and reputation were pillars of their standing in the jujutsu community, and your divorce was seen not just as a personal failure, but as a stain on the clan's honor. The elders' threats to expel you loomed large, casting a dark cloud over your return. But amidst the storm of disapproval and gossip, there was Satoru.

Satoru, with his unwavering loyalty and irreverent disdain for outdated conventions, stood by you like a beacon of support. When you voiced your fears about the elders' threats, he dismissed them with a wave of his hand and that confident smile that seemed capable of warding off any darkness.

The simplicity of Satoru's statement, "Happy together," carried with it a profound depth, echoing in the space between the two of you. It was a direct command, a plea, and a gentle piece of wisdom all at once. His eyes, usually so playful and mischievous, now bore the weight of genuine concern and a trace of personal regret, highlighting the seriousness of his intentions for you.

His words will always hit you with the force of a revelation. Satoru, despite his outward appearance of boundless confidence and joy, carried his own regrets—regrets about paths not taken, words not said, and choices made in the shadows of duty and expectation. His relationship with Suguru, whatever its depth and complications, had not led to the happiness that perhaps it could have, had circumstances been different.

In that moment, you understood that Satoru’s advice was not just about defying the elders or the clan. It was about seizing the chance for happiness that he, for all his power and freedom, felt he had missed. It was about living openly and without regrets, about choosing love over fear and societal expectations.

"Happy together," you repeated softly, the idea resonating deep within you. It was a simple concept, yet one that felt revolutionary given everything you had been through.

"Yes," Satoru confirmed, nodding emphatically. "You and Shoko have a chance to build something beautiful, something real. Don’t let fear or tradition stand in the way of that. Learn from our mistakes."

“Brother….” You whisper at your brother tenderly.

Seeing your hesitation, Satoru reached out, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I know it's a lot to take in," he continued, his tone softening. "And I know you're worried about what fighting this battle might mean—not just for you, but for me as well. But you need to understand, I've been dealing with the clan's rigidness my whole life. I know how they think and how they operate."

He paused, ensuring he had your full attention. "What happened with Suguru... it taught me a lot. Life is too short, and the path of solitude and sacrifice for the wrong reasons—it's not worth it. I don't want you to look back one day, full of regrets, wishing you'd chosen differently."

The mention of Suguru brought a pang of sadness, a reminder of lost friendships and love that had once promised so much more. Satoru's voice was filled with a rare vulnerability as he shared these reflections, giving you a glimpse into the personal cost of his own experiences.

"And I don't want to see the clan's outdated prejudices destroy more lives, especially not the lives of people I care about," he added, his voice gaining strength. "You and Shoko have a chance at real happiness, a chance to live openly and love freely. That's what you should be fighting for, not the approval of some dusty old elders who cling to outdated traditions."

Your mind raced as you absorbed his words, the weight of your own fears battling with the burgeoning hope that Satoru's support ignited within you. It was daunting, the idea of standing up against the formidable structure of clan traditions and expectations. Yet, the thought of being with Shoko, of potentially creating a life filled with the kind of love and companionship you truly desired, offered a compelling counterpoint.

"Satoru, are you sure?" you finally asked, the concern clear in your voice. "Taking on the elders... it won’t be easy. They could retaliate."

Satoru smiled, a slight curve of his lips that carried both defiance and assurance. "Let them try," he said with a chuckle. "I’ve faced worse. And besides, it’s about time someone shook up the Gojo clan a bit. If not us, then who?"

His confidence was infectious, and despite the risks, you felt a surge of courage, bolstered by the support of someone who had become more than just a family member or a fellow sorcerer, but a true ally in your pursuit of happiness.

"Okay," you said, a newfound determination steadying your voice. "Let’s do this. For us, for Shoko, and for everyone else who’s ever been told they have to choose between love and tradition."

Satoru nodded, pleased. "That's the spirit. Now, go be happy. And remember, I've got your back."

With that assurance, you felt ready to face whatever challenges might come, knowing that whatever happened, you wouldn't be facing them alone. The path ahead was uncertain, possibly fraught with confrontation and challenges, but the promise of a life lived true to your heart made it a path worth taking.

As you walked through the familiar gates of Jujutsu High, your heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. The school grounds were bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun, casting long shadows and bathing everything in a soft, forgiving light. It had been years since you last set foot here, years filled with longing and regret, but today you carried a new sense of purpose.

You scanned the area, looking for any sign of Shoko. As you approached the faculty parking lot, you saw her. She was just about to get into her car, her back to you, unaware of your presence. You paused for a moment, just watching her. Time had changed her, just as it had changed you. She seemed more confident, more assured in her movements, yet there was still that unmistakable grace about her that had first drawn you in.

"Shoko!" you called out, unable to keep the emotion from coloring your voice.

At the sound of her name, she froze. Slowly, she turned around, and when her eyes met yours, they widened in disbelief. For a moment, she stood there, stunned, as if she truly had seen a ghost.

You took a few tentative steps toward her, your heart in your throat. "Shoko, it’s me," you said softly, almost afraid that any louder voice might shatter the fragile moment.

Shoko blinked, as if to clear her vision, before a myriad of emotions played across her face—surprise, confusion, and then, a dawning joy. "I can't believe it's really you," she managed to say, her voice a whisper.

As you closed the remaining distance, Shoko's initial shock softened into a vulnerable hesitance. Her eyes, once brimming with an uncomplicated joy whenever she saw you, now held a guarded wariness—a shield forged from the years of pain and separation. Yet, despite the shield, there was an unmistakable flicker of the old affection, a tug at her heart that she seemed to fight.

"I—how long has it been?" Shoko asked, her voice shaking slightly, betraying the turmoil inside her.

"Too long," you replied earnestly, stopping just a breath away from her. You could feel the warmth of her, so close yet still so far, held at bay by the invisible walls she had built around herself.

Shoko swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the ground before forcing herself to meet your eyes again. "Why now? Why come back after all this time?" Her voice was a mix of hope and hurt, needing to understand your sudden reappearance, fearing the reopening of old wounds.

You reached out, your hand hovering in the air, hesitating before gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear—an intimate gesture that once would have been second nature. Now, it felt like a relearning of the language of her soul. "I realized something," you began, your voice thick with emotion.

She looks at your eyes, as though she was searching for life, for truth. “What was it?”

"I realized I've been living half a life without you. And no matter how hard I tried to move on, to forget, you were always there—in the back of my mind, in every quiet moment. I came back because I need to know if there's a chance, any chance at all, that we could be something again."

Shoko's breath hitched at your words, her defenses wavering as the earnestness in your voice called to her. "You left," she whispered, a single tear escaping down her cheek. "You left when I needed you most. How do I trust that you won’t do it again?"

The pain in her words stung, a harsh reminder of the consequences of your past choices. "I know I hurt you, more than I can ever make right," you admitted, your own voice cracking with regret. "But I'm here now, Shoko, and I’m not going anywhere. I want to make things right between us, no matter how long it takes. I'm not asking for immediate forgiveness or for everything to go back to how it was. I just want the chance to show you, every day, that I'm here for you."

Shoko looked at you, her eyes searching yours for the sincerity she so desperately needed to see. The conflict was palpable as she struggled between the safety of her guarded heart and the dangerous hope your return offered. Slowly, imperceptibly at first, she nodded, the smallest agreement, but enough to flood your heart with a tumult of relief and determination.

"Okay," she said, her voice barely a whisper, laden with cautious optimism. "We can try. Slowly."

Hearing those words, feeling the tentative acceptance in her tone, you knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges. But as you stood there, under the fading light of the setting sun, with Shoko's tentative permission to re-enter her life, you felt ready to face those challenges. Whatever it took, however long it took, you were prepared to spend every day proving that the love that had once bound you together was worth fighting for—a second time around.

You searched her face, looking for signs of the love you once shared, hoping it wasn't too late. "I've missed you, Shoko. More than I can say. I've thought about you every day. About us. I left so much unsaid, so much undone..."

Shoko smiled, a gentle, forgiving smile that melted any remaining fears. "I've missed you too," she admitted. "It's been hard, but I always hoped... somehow, I always hoped you’d come back. That we’d get some happily ever after like those cheesy fairy tales, you know?”

“We can have that now,” You whisper to her in a soft tone, her eyes bearing against your own. “Our own happily ever after, like those cheesy fairy tales.”

“Then give it to me.” She laughs softly as you let your fingers trace her cheeks. “Give me that cheesy fairy tale. I’ve waited long enough for it.”

The sun dipped lower, casting a warm glow that enveloped you both, making the moment feel almost magical. "Can we start over?" you asked, heart pounding with hope. "Can we give us another chance?"

"Yes," Shoko answered without hesitation, her voice firm and sure. "Yes, we can start over. Whatever it takes, however long it takes. We're worth another chance. We’ve always been.”

You beamed at her, taking a breath as tears of joy poured. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you too, you idiot.” She retorts back, tears of joy equally pouring.

As you stood there, holding each other in the fading light, the years of separation seemed to melt away, replaced by the promise of a new beginning. You knew there would be challenges ahead, but with Shoko by your side, you felt like you could face anything. This was your second chance—a chance to make things right, a chance to build a future together, founded not just on love, but on understanding, forgiveness, and renewed commitment. And this time, you were determined to make it last.

“Good luck to us, babe.”

You blushed at her words.

You reached out for her hands.

“Good luck to us, babe.”

She smiles and leans in towards you.

A new chapter finally begins together.

It was like blue summer all over again.

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