#no more heartbreaks after this i swear

[amaranthdahlia]

i leave him to you. | i got it ... my hero.

[timothylawrence]

finding out Ulder was distant from pretty much Wylls birth has left me only capable of thinking abt how lonely all of Wyll’s childhood stories are. he’s always alone in them and if his father ever makes an appearance, it’s to scold him.

no wonder he searched for mermaids and lead such a fantastical imagination. he was always alone and the only person he ever craved love and attention from was unreachable- even if he was physically there.

And now I’m reminded of a quote by Dennis Nurkse: in the park the child says: watch me. It will not count unless you see.

[3fingersbreak]

keep your eyeballs peeled for a fresh piece o art tomorrow !! 👀 fresh and bleeding raw like a blue rare steak

[thy-valhallen]

i like the idea that it's understood in the Batfam that Bruce has a favorite but no one's really sure who it is-- all of them have their own guesses, and it's never themselves (except Steph, who's here to laugh at their theories)

Dick is convinced it's Jason because of how he saw Jason's death destroy Bruce-- like, he knows Bruce would cry for all of them, mourn and all, but... well, he's pretty convinced Jason had a spot in their dad's heart a bit bigger than they did

Jason, if asked, will swear to hell and back it's Dick-- the Golden Boy, the perfect son, the one he had to compare himself to growing up. Secretly though? he thinks it's Tim. Tim, the best detective of all of them, the steadfast kid who stepped in to fix everything without the slightest bit of thanks or appreciation, the nerd who dedicated himself to their crusade with nothing to gain from it. who wouldn't favor that kid??

Tim has known since the first picture he ever took of Batman and Robin who the favorite was, and has never wavered. Dick Grayson, his first son, the one who's pain was reflected so sharply back at him in a twisted mirror that he had to take the kid in-- Dick was the one to bring the Dark Knight to life in the daytime. Dick is his everything-- the boy he loved enough to slow in his life's work to help. Tim was certainly never worth the time, but Dick? Dick is impossible not to love, and to love Dick Grayson is to love with your whole chest

Cass bases her guess off of Bruce's body language, not Batman's, and for that, she thinks it's Duke. Duke is softer than the rest of them, less sharp edges from a childhood shaped by misery or death, and Bruce is less of a drill sergeant with him for it. after all, Duke doesn't struggle with directions like the rest of the Batfam (he so does, he's just the best at hiding it), so he gets less of the terrified, furious leader and more of the tired, worried dad

Damian has no doubt in his mind it's Cass-- at first, because she's the best fighter, and therefore most deserving. she's far more skilled after all, so in this insane family where adopted children upend the hierarchy he knows, it must be dictated by skill, no? no, actually. but then, he sees how Bruce doesn't yell at her, the implicit trust he has in his daughter. the way that they're so very in-tune with one another, it's like looking at a man and his shadow. Cass has to be the favorite, because no one else can look him in the eyes with the same sort of heartbreak he has and comfort him without a word

Duke was an only child before joining the Waynes, so it was a shock to suddenly see sibling favoritism so blatantly when Bruce so carefully and kindly talked Damian down from a rant about his classmates in the middle of patrol. no one else would've been allowed to talk about something so personal and revealing on a Gotham rooftop. it was just continually proven from there; shoulder pats and hair ruffles answered with little scowls, utterances of "son" that were lost to shuffling capes and tiny smiles tucked away in darkness

[helioooss]

music girlfriend

synopsis: you’re the weirdest loser karina has ever met in her life, but you’re cute. and different. and she might just like you. (loser girlfriend x mean girlfriend core)

w/c: 5k+

warnings: swearing, lots of it; mentions of bullying. like always, read at your own risk :)

a/n: a concept like this was my first ever fic…except that it was way more toxic and horrifying. i’ve rewritten it. but just reading something i wrote over 10 years ago makes me CRINGE

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

yu jimin is a force of nature on campus; the kind of girl people talk about in hushed tones, partly out of awe and partly out of fear. she’s got a reputation that precedes her: mean, cold and walls higher than the burj khalifa itself.

she doesn’t mince words, and her insults almost always land with surgical precision. you don’t cross her unless you’re looking to get burned, and even then, it’s not guaranteed she’ll care enough to react.

people say she’s a heartbreaker, and the rumours aren’t exactly subtle. she’s the type who’s been through a messy breakup or two, you’d never know it by looking at her though.

karina, as everyone liked to call her, doesn’t mess around with vulnerability: she does leather jackets, sharp eyeliner, and a smile that’s more threatening than warm.

most of her relationships don’t last long; people get too close, then quickly realize that they’re only scratching the surface of someone who’s built walls too high to climb.

and, then, there’s you. you’re not even remotely on her radar, like at all. unless you count that one time she stared you down just for coughing in her presence. you remember it vividly: it was a wednesday morning, and you were hurrying to class when you caught a coughing fit through the hall after attempting to chug a tropical juice box in two minutes.

unfortunately, she was passing by at the exact moment you let out a loud, ragged cough, and she stopped dead in her tracks; fixing you with a death glare that never left until you were out of sight.

“are you fucking kidding me?” she yells out as you practically run away. “loser!”

that stare was enough to make you want to crawl into a hole and disappear, and it cemented your fear of her. you’ve avoided her ever since, not that it’s been difficult — she’s too wrapped up in her own world to notice someone like you anyway.

yet, despite the fear and the certainty that she’d tear you to shreds if given the chance, you never miss an aespa gig.

every friday night, you make your way to the dingy dive bar outside of campus where they perform, staking out your usual spot in the far corner with a ginger beer in hand because you couldn’t stand the taste of anything else, but you only ever manage to drink half before losing interest. it’s not about the drink; it’s about watching her own the stage.

you sit there, trying not to make eye contact, trying to be as invisible as possible while simultaneously wishing she would look your way, just once….in a way that isn’t terrifying.

of course she doesn’t notice you. or at least, she pretends not to. she’s too busy flirting with half the room, her eyes sharp and her voice carrying over the crowd like a spell.

your only real friend on campus is yunjin, your roommate, who’s the complete opposite of you —confident, outgoing and friends with pretty much everyone.

she talks about the girls in aespa often, but you never really pay attention because, well, you’re usually too busy trying to complete a lego set or desperately attempting to finish either a boss in wu-kong, or a quest in dead island 2. in desperate times, you turn to call of duty though.

one saturday evening, as you’re halfway through building a lego roller coaster on the kitchen table, zero human interaction, yunjin drops a bombshell.

“hey, by the way, aespa’s coming over tonight,” she announces casually, as if she’s talking about ordering pizza, fingers twirling her hair and all.

you don’t even look up from your seat. “uh-huh, cool.”

“no, like, they’re actually coming here. to our dorm,” she repeats, clearly trying to make sure it sinks in.

you snap a lego piece into place and nod absentmindedly. “yeah, i hear ya.”

yunjin sighs, clearly defeated. “you’re really not listening, are you?”

“nope,” you admit, focusing intently on the roller coaster track.

“can you please get a girlfriend?” she leaves you to yourself and retreats back into the couch, shaking her head at how hopeless you are. “god, this place needs another woman.”

and then, maybe fifteen minutes later, it finally registers. aespa. karina. here. in your dorm. you’re in your toy story pyjamas with fresh spaghetti stains on it.

you freeze mid-piece placement, your eyes going wide as panic washes over you. “wait, did you say aespa is coming here?”

yunjin looks up from her phone, a grin spreading across her face. “finally paying attention, huh? yeah, they’ll be here any minute.”

“jennifer, are you serious?!” you practically yell, scrambling to your feet, knocking over half your lego set in the process.

“very serious,” she says, clearly enjoying your reaction.

you don’t waste any more time. there’s only one thing to do: that’s to get the hell out of there. before yunjin can say another word, you’re darting down the hall, your feet barely touching the floor. you burst into your room and start throwing things into your bag, moving with a speed you didn’t know you had.

“are you really running away?” yunjin calls after you, chuckling.

“yes!” you shout back, shoving random clothes into your bag. “i can’t deal with this!”

“you’re such a wimp!” she teases, but there’s affection in her voice. “you’ll be fine, i promise —“

“absolutely not,” you cut her off as you slam your door shut. you grab your keys, yank open your window and climb out onto the fire escape, your heart pounding.

as you make your escape, you look down and realise you’ve left a trail of legos behind you, tiny colourful pieces marking your pathetic retreat.

meanwhile, aespa finally arrives. winter, the band’s chaotic drummer, is sprawled on your couch, balancing a bottle of cheap beer on her forehead. ningning, the bassist, is rummaging through your snack drawer like she’s on a mission from god. giselle, the lead guitarist, is inspecting your lego collection with an expression that’s equal parts curiosity and confusion. and then there’s karina — leaning against the counter, looking bored and vaguely annoyed, like she’s too cool for this entire dorm (which she probably is).

“so, where’s this lego nerd?” ningning asks, looking around the living room.

“oh, y/n? she…left,” yunjin says with a shrug, trying not to laugh. “like ran away when i said you guys were coming over.”

“scared of us?” winter asks, looking offended. “we’re not that bad.”

“no,” yunjin adds, shaking her head. “she just really sucks at socialising but once you get to a point, she will yap your ears off.”

“it’s karina,” giselle says knowingly, nudging the singer with a grin. “she’s the scary one.”

karina just rolls her eyes, unfazed. “whatever. if she’s that much of a coward, she’s not worth worrying about.”

as she glances around the room, her eyes land on the half-finished lego set on the kitchen table. she moves closer, her gaze shifting from indifferent to slightly intrigued. she picks up a piece, examining it for a moment.

“what’s this supposed to be?” she asks, holding up the stray lego.

“a roller coaster,” yunjin replies, still smiling. “she’s been working on it all day.”

karina raises an eyebrow, setting the piece back down. “interesting.”

“what, the legos or the girl?” giselle teases.

“both,” karina admits, her voice low and thoughtful. and for a moment, just a moment, her usual cold demeanor softens. “she’s kind of weird, isn’t she? fucking coughed on me once and it just set me off.”

“so you know of her?” giselle raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her face.

karina frowns. “what the hell is your deal?”

“definitely,” yunjin cuts them off before they get started. “she’s into video games and all that nerdy shit. has never had a girlfriend in her life, but she’s gorgeous and funny in her own way.”

karina hums, her gaze lingering on the legos. “i’ll be the judge of that.”

meanwhile, you’ve been hiding out at the park not too far from your dorm for a while now, perched awkwardly on a bench — staring blankly at a nearby pigeon that’s scavenging for crumbs. it was the first place you could think of in your panic, but now that the adrenaline is wearing off, your stomach is making very loud complaints.

“great,” you mutter to yourself, pressing a hand to your rumbling belly. you didn’t plan this escape well. you don’t have money on you…just your keys and the few legos you hastily shoved in your pockets.

with a sigh, you finally accept defeat. “screw it,” you mutter, pushing yourself off the bench. “i’ll just sneak in, grab some food, and sneak back out.”

you start making your way back to the dorm, trying to convince yourself that you can avoid those girls altogether. if you’re lucky, they’ll be too busy talking to yunjin or trying to figure out the roller coaster you abandoned on the kitchen table.

approaching your dorm cautiously on your tippy toes, you open door as quietly as possible, sets of laughter audible from the living room — familiar voices that make you both excited and anxious.

you manage to sneak inside unnoticed, keeping your head down as you head straight for the kitchen.

the fridge is glowing right in front of you, immediately grabbing the nearest thing you see: a pack of cheese sticks and a pineapple juice box. you’re so focused on grabbing food and getting out of there that you don’t notice the figure leaning casually against the kitchen counter.

“back so soon, coward?”

you freeze, and slowly turn to find no one else but karina standing there. she’s holding a half-finished lego roller coaster piece, looking at you with a mix of amusement and something else you can’t quite read.

“oh,” you croak out, feeling your face heat up. “i was just…hungry.”

she raises an eyebrow, her expression somewhere between disbelief and mockery. “hungry enough to risk coming back into enemy territory?”

“it’s not enemy territory,” you mutter, peeling the wrapper off the cheese stick awkwardly. “i just panicked.”

karina’s smirk widens. “because of me?”

“maybe,” you admit reluctantly, taking a bite of the cheese stick. “you’re kind of scary, you know.”

“good,” she replies smoothly, stepping closer. “keeps people on their toes.”

“it definitely kept me out the door,” you mumble, trying not to flinch as she moves even closer. you notice she’s still holding the lego piece, twirling it between her fingers like she’s trying to figure it out.

“so,” she says, her voice dropping a notch, “what’s with the legos? seriously. i mean, a roller coaster?”

you glance at the half-built model on the table, feeling both embarrassed and defensive. “what’s wrong with a roller coaster?”

“nothing,” she replies, surprisingly sincere. “it’s just unexpected considering you’re over twenty.”

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

she shrugs, her gaze shifting between you and the legos. “i’ve never met anyone who builds a roller coaster in the middle of a saturday night. alone.”

“what kind of person do i seem like, then?” you challenge, more curious than offended.

“the kind that runs away when someone like me shows up,” karina shoots back, but there’s no malice in her tone; just that familiar teasing edge.

you feel your face heat up again, but you manage to hold her gaze. “well, maybe i just don’t know how to deal with someone like you.”

“and what’s someone like me?” she asks, taking a step closer.

“mean,” you say bluntly, surprising even yourself.

karina blinks, caught off guard. “you coughed on me.”

“you remember that?”

“i felt a splash on my face you sore loser,” she whines, remembering the day so clearly. she watches you for a moment, then she gestures to the roller coaster. “so, are you gonna finish this or what?”

“i was planning to,” you say defensively. “it’s not my fault i got interrupted.”

“by yourself?” she raises an eyebrow at you.

“by you,” you correct, feeling a strange mix of frustration and attraction.

her eyes narrow playfully. “well, i’m here now. so, let’s finish it.”

“you want to help me?” you ask, genuinely surprised.

“why not?” she says, picking up another lego piece. “i’ve got nothing better to do, but come meet everyone first.”

you eventually shuffle into the living room, feeling like you’re walking into a lion’s den. the place is chaos: winter is trying to balance on one leg while shouting about something unintelligible, ningning is tearing into a bag of doritos with alarming enthusiasm, and giselle is inspecting your lego city sets like she’s discovered a hidden temple.

“look who it is!” ningning calls, grinning at you with chip dust on her fingers. “finally decided to join us, huh?”

“i was busy,” you say awkwardly.

“busy hiding,” karina corrects, plopping down next to you on the couch with a casualness that makes your heart rate spike.

“it’s not hiding,” you mutter. “it’s called strategic retreat.”

she shrugs. “sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“she’s literally just a girl,” yunjin chuckles, taking the first sip off her beer before grimacing. “what is this shit?”

winter suddenly flops onto the floor in front of you, looking up with wide eyes. “so, do you build like castles and stuff? or just boring things like a roller coaster?”

you frown defensively. “it’s interesting!”

“wow,” winter says, clearly unimpressed. “that’s so nerdy, i think i just lost 10 cool girl points talking to you.”

you roll your eyes. “i didn’t think you had 10 cool girl points to begin with,” the room erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but feel a small sense of triumph.

“ohhh, she got heat!” giselle hollers, slapping her knee dramatically.

karina leans closer, her voice low enough that only you can hear. “you’re funny.”

you blink, caught off-guard by her close proximity. “uh, thanks?”

“don’t get too excited,” she adds, a bored look on her face. “i still think you’re weird.”

“i know,” you reply simply. “but that’s kind of my thing.”

somehow, yunjin turns the tv on and you end up in an impromptu mario kart tournament, with winter yelling instructions at everyone like an overly aggressive coach.

“take the shortcut, take the fucking shortcut!” she screams, despite the fact that she’s not even playing.

you manage to hold your own, despite ningning’s attempts to distract you by waving doritos in your face and giselle’s shameless attempts to use every dirty trick in the book. you’re neck and neck with karina, who’s surprisingly good and also surprisingly ruthless.

“you play dirty,” you accuse as she sends a blue shell your way, knocking you out of first place.

“you say that like it’s a bad thing,” karina retorts with a frown.

“it is a bad thing,” you insist. “only jerks use the blue shell.”

“guess i’m a jerk, then,” she adds, not looking the least bit sorry.

“you’re the worst,” you say, but there’s no heat behind it. in fact, you’re kind of having fun.

“i’ll take that as a compliment,” she says, flashing you a victorious smile as she crosses the finish line.

“you shouldn’t,” you mutter, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably because karina just smiled at you for the first time in your life.

as the night goes on, the group slowly starts to mellow out. winter has passed out on the floor, snoring softly with an empty can of beer in her hand. ningning and yunjin are sprawled across the couch, humming some random tune and giselle is poking at your lego millennium falcon with a mix of fascination and confusion.

karina is still sitting next to you, her elbow resting on the back of the couch. “so,” she says, breaking the comfortable silence, “you really like legos, huh?”

you nod. “yeah. it’s kind of my thing.”

“i can see that,” she says, glancing around at your impressive collection. “it’s such a loser vibe.”

you raise an eyebrow. “hey, you’re not the first to say that.”

“i’ll make sure i’ll be the last.”

you laugh, feeling a strange warmth in your chest. “well, thanks, i guess. you’re not as scary as i thought you’d be.”

“i can be scary,” she insists, narrowing her eyes for effect. “maybe one day i can build one with you, deal?”

“woah, okay,” you say, grinning back. “a deal it is then.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

since that unexpected night at your dorm, things between you and karina have taken an unexpected turn. it’s not exactly friendship —karina’s still mean, still cold in that familiar way, but there’s a new rhythm to it, a pattern of teasing that you’re surprisingly getting used to.

whenever you pass each other in the hallways, she makes it a point to throw some kind of insult your way, usually with a smirk that’s equal parts mocking and playful.

“hey, loser,” karina calls as you’re trying to balance a stack of books in your arms.

“hi,” you shoot back with a smile, doing your best to sound unfazed.

“nice outfit,” she adds, eyeing your oversized hoodie and faded jeans. “did you rob a fucking thrift store for that look?”

“maybe,” you reply with a grin. “at least i’m consistent!”

she laughs (surprising everyone around her), her eyes flashing with that familiar mix of amusement and something else — something warmer. “still a loser, though.”

“and what about it?” you retort, shaking your head as she walks away, still chuckling.

it becomes a routine over the next few days. each time you cross paths, karina manages to find some new way to tease you. whether it’s about your outfit, your habit of carrying too many books, or your eternal obsession with legos, her comments are always mean-spirited, but in a way that somehow makes you smile because you know she doesn’t mean any of it.

“what, still working on legos?” she asks one morning, catching sight of a lego manual sticking out of your bag.

“yep,” you say brightly. “gotta build something, right?”

“how pathetic,” she drawls, but there’s a spark in her eyes that betrays the insult.

“at least i’m consistent,” you say, giving her a mock salute as you pass by.

not everyone understands the strange dynamic between you and karina. a group of boys in the football team who’ve been eyeing the whole thing decides to get in on the fun — or at least what they think is fun.

one afternoon, as you’re making your way across campus, you hear someone call out, “hey, loser! still building legos? what are you, five?”

you turn, your stomach sinking as you realize it’s not karina, but felix who is doing a poor imitation of her usual teasing. his tone lacks the playful edge, replaced with something harsher, meaner.

“seriously, you’re still into that kid stuff?” jake sneers, towering over you. “what, got nothing better to do with your life?”

you try to laugh it off, shaking your head. “just having fun, guys.”

“yeah, real fun,” taehyun mutters. “no wonder karina only talks to you to make fun of you.”

you flinch at that, the words cutting deeper than you expected. before you can think of a response, someone else steps in.

“hey! back off,” yunjin shouts, marching over with fire in her eyes. “what’s your problem?”

they all look momentarily startled, but jake just shrugs. “we were just joking around, yunjin. it’s not a big deal.”

“well, it’s not fucking funny to me,” yunjin snaps, her voice loud enough to draw attention. “and if i see you messing with her again, you’ll have to deal with me. got it?”

they mumble a few half-hearted apologies before retreating, clearly not expecting to get yelled at in public.

yunjin turns to you, her expression softening. “are you okay?”

“yeah,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant. “i’m fine.”

your roommate isn’t convinced, knowing you better than anyone else. she pulls you aside and demands to know if this has been happening often. you try to brush it off, insisting it’s just dumb teasing, but she’s not having it.

“i’m telling karina,” she says, her voice firm.

“don’t,” you plead, but she’s already walking off, determined to set things right. “it literally just started today!”

when yunjin finds karina, she doesn’t hold back. “your stupid jock friends have been picking on y/n,” she says bluntly. “all thanks to your teasing.”

karina’s eyes narrow instantly. “what? who?”

“those idiots on the football team,” yunjin explains, crossing her arms. “they think it’s funny to imitate you.”

karina’s expression darkens, a mixture of anger and something else — something protective. “where is she?”

“probably at lunch by now,” yunjin replies. “but karina, don’t just—”

“i’m going,” karina interrupts, her voice leaving no room for argument. she stalks off toward the cafeteria, her jaw set and her steps quick.

you’re sitting alone in the cafeteria, picking at your food and trying not to let the earlier incident get to you, but before you can get too lost in your thoughts, you hear a familiar voice.

“hey assholes,” karina calls sharply, her voice loud enough to turn heads. “got something to say to y/n here?”

you look up, startled, as she strides over to your table with the same jocks from before trailing behind her. they look a lot less cocky now, their heads bowed in a mix of embarrassment and fear.

“uh, we’re sorry,” felix mumbles first, barely making eye contact. “we were just messing around.”

yunjin’s eyes flash dangerously. “yeah? well, don’t. she’s off-limits.”

“seriously,” karina deadpans, her arms crossed - voice cold and mean. “if i see you pricks messing around with her again, you can say goodbye to your scholarships.”

you sit there, stunned and unsure of how to react. you weren’t expecting this; definitely not karina marching in like a one-woman army to defend you.

the boys mumble a few more apologies before scurrying off, leaving you alone with karina and yunjin.

karina lets out a slow breath, her expression still serious. “you okay?”

“i’m fine,” you say, still processing everything. “you didn’t have to do that.”

“yes, i did,” karina replies, her voice softer now. “and…i’m sorry.”

you blink, caught off guard by the sudden apology. “for what?”

“for making it seem like it’s okay to be mean to you,” she says, her tone unusually sincere. “i didn’t mean for it to go that far.”

you shrug, trying to play it off. “it’s fine. i know you were just messing around.”

“still,” she insists, her eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. “i don’t want you to feel like that. not because of me.”

you manage a small smile, the warmth in her voice easing the lingering hurt. “thanks.”

karina looks almost relieved, her smile returning in full force. “so, we’re good?”

“we’re good,” you confirm, feeling a strange mix of gratitude.

and as karina sits down next to you, the rest of the girls start joining in.

you’re sitting in the crowded lunch hall, trying to enjoy your chips while listening to giselle talk about some wild party they’re planning. as usual, karina is scrolling through her phone like she’s half-bored, half-amused by everything around her.

you pop another chip into your mouth and crunch loudly, completely unaware of how it sounds in the echoing hall.

“jesus, y/n,” karina suddenly blurts out, her voice louder than necessary and back to her usual self. “could you chew any louder? i’m pretty sure they can hear you in the next building.”

you pause mid-chew, feeling a blush creeping up your neck. “sorry,” you mumble, covering your mouth with your hand. “i didn’t realize it was that bad.”

she rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of a grin tugging at her lips. “you sound like a woodchipper. it’s a miracle i’m still sitting next to you.”

“you could always move,” you say, trying to sound unfazed.

“nah,” she replies, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “someone’s gotta keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t choke on those chips.”

you catch the faintest smirk on her face, and despite her words, you can’t help but smile. “you’re all heart, karina.”

she shrugs, pretending not to care. “you’re lucky i like charity cases.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

one day, karina manages to pull you out of your room and invites you over at the campus skate park. she’s doing tricks on her board like it’s the most natural thing in the world. you, on the other hand, are struggling just to stand on the board without wobbling like a newborn deer.

“come on, y/n,” she taunts, skating over to you with a smirk. “it’s not that hard. just balance, push off, and roll. even a baby can handle that.”

“easy for you to say,” you mutter, trying not to fall over.

she rolls her eyes but skates closer, reaching out to steady you. “here, let me show you. put one foot here, and the other here,” she instructs, positioning your feet.

you follow her instructions, but as soon as you try to push off, you lose your balance and crash to the ground with a loud thud.

her teasing expression instantly shifts to one of panic, her eyes wide as she crouches down next to you. “oh my god, are you okay? did you break anything?”

“just my dignity,” you groan, rubbing your sore butt.

“idiot,” she mutters, but there’s no heat in her voice. she offers you a hand, pulling you back up with surprising gentleness. “you scared me, you know.”

“didn’t think you cared,” you tease, but there’s a warmth in your chest at her reaction.

“well, someone’s gotta keep you from killing yourself,” she says, her tone gruff but her grip lingering on your arm a bit longer than necessary. “just…try not to die, okay? i’m not ready to be a witness to your embarrassing end.”

“don’t worry,” you reply with a grin. “i’ll keep falling just to see that worried look on your face.”

she scoffs, but there’s no hiding the small smile that creeps across her lips. “you’re impossible.”

“and you’re mean,” you say, but there’s no real bite behind it.

“yeah, well,” she says, stepping back onto her board. “i only pick on the ones i like, loser.”

you watch as she skates away, your heart doing an odd little flip.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it’s a rare moment of downtime in aespa’s usual whirlwind of rehearsals and chaos. the four of them are lounging in the practice room, sipping on energy drinks and half-heartedly tuning their instruments. giselle’s strumming random chords on her guitar, winter’s scrolling through her phone, and ningning’s lounging on the floor, doing absolutely nothing.

karina’s leaning against the wall, her eyes distant and her expression unusually serious. she’s been quieter than usual lately, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by the others.

“yo karina,” giselle suddenly says, breaking the silence. “what’s up your ass? you’re freaking me out.”

“nothing,” karina replies quickly, a little too quickly.

“oh, please,” winter scoffs, looking up from her phone. “this is about y/n, isn’t it?”

karina’s face stiffens, and she tries to play it off with an eye roll. “why would it be about her?”

“uh, maybe because you’ve been obsessed with her for weeks?” ningning chimes in, smirking. “seriously, the way you look at her, it’s like you’re trying to set her on fire with your eyes.”

karina’s cheeks flush slightly, but she keeps her expression neutral. “i just think she’s funny, that’s all.”

“sure,” giselle says, drawing out the word like she’s speaking to a child. “and i think jacob elordi is funny too.”

she glares at her, but it’s half-hearted. “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“oh, come on,” ningning continues, sitting up and crossing her legs. “it’s obvious you like her. the teasing, the constant calling her a loser, that thing where you get all weirdly protective of her? classic crush behavior.”

karina scowls, hating how transparent she apparently is. “she’s interesting.”

“interesting, huh?” winter teases, raising an eyebrow. “interesting enough to make you lose your cool every time she’s around.”

“whatever,” she mutters, turning away slightly. but her attempt at indifference only makes the others laugh harder.

“you know, y/n’s actually not bad-looking,” ningning comments casually. “she’s kind of cute in that nerdy way.”

“if she cut her hair a little and maybe wore something that wasn’t a hoodie three sizes too big,” giselle adds, grinning, “she’d probably have all the girls swooning.”

karina’s jaw tightens at that, her mood shifting from defensive to something closer to possessive. “she doesn’t need to change anything,” she says flatly.

“ohhh,” winter coos, catching the change in her tone. “you know, i actually heard a couple of girls in my class talking about how cute y/n is. one of them even said she’d ask her out if she got the chance.”

“what?” karina snaps, her eyes narrowing. “who said that?”

winter grins, delighted by karina’s reaction. “oh, i don’t know. just some girls, but they sounded pretty serious.”

karina stands up abruptly, her whole body tense. “which class is this?”

“whoa, chill,” giselle laughs, her eyes wide with amusement. “you’re not actually jealous, are you?”

her expression is a mix of annoyance and something deeper. “i just don’t like the idea of people trying to mess with her, that’s all.”

“sure,” ningning says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “and i’m sure this sudden urge to go find her has nothing to do with jealousy.”

“whatever,” karina mutters again, already heading for the door. “i’ll be back.”

“where are you going?” winter calls after her, though she’s pretty sure she knows the answer.

“to make sure y/n’s okay,” karina replies over her shoulder, her voice leaving no room for argument.

the other members burst into laughter as she disappears down the hall, clearly unable to resist the pull she feels toward you.

she makes her way to the building where she knows your class is held. she doesn’t exactly know which room you’re in, but that doesn’t stop her from pacing the hallway, her eyes darting to every door like she’s on a mission.

she leans against the wall, trying to play it cool, but her mind is racing. the thought of someone else being interested in you makes her blood boil in a way she doesn’t fully understand. it’s not like she’s made her own intentions clear, but the idea of you with someone else, it just doesn’t sit right.

she waits outside the classroom building for what feels like an eternity, her patience wearing thin. students start filtering out, and karina’s eyes scan each face, looking for you. she feels a strange mix of anticipation and anxiety, and she hates it.

finally, she spots you. you’re walking out with your head down, clutching a book to your chest. when you look up and see karina, your eyes widen in surprise.

“karina?” you ask, stopping in your tracks. “what are you doing here?”

she shrugs, trying to act casual despite the fact that she’s clearly been waiting for you. “just passing by.”

“really?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “you’re ‘just passing by’ outside my class?”

karina scratches the back of her neck, looking uncharacteristically awkward. “maybe i wanted to make sure you weren’t gonna trip over on the way to your next class.”

“are you serious?”

her expression shifts slightly, her usual confidence faltering. “maybe.”

you can’t help but smile, a mixture of disbelief and amusement on your face. “you’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“i know, i’ll walk you to your class anyways.

and for the first time, there’s no teasing, no sarcasm, just a moment of comfortable silence between the two of you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it’s a lazy afternoon, and you and karina are sitting on the floor of your dorm, legs stretched out as you dive into a bag of cheetos.

yunjin left the room to run errands, leaving you and karina in rare company. she came over to drop something off to yunjin, band stuff they said, even though your roommate could not be in one for the life of her.

“these are so good,” you mumble, licking the orange dust off your fingers as you looked at the screen in front of you.

karina watches you with an expression that’s equal parts disgusted and fascinated. “you’re a mess,” she comments, her tone as dry as ever.

“thanks,” you reply cheerfully, taking another handful of cheetos. but as you reach for your drink, you accidentally brush karina’s arm with your cheetos-stained fingers.

she flinches dramatically, her eyes wide. “oh my god, you did not just touch me with those filthy fingers.”

you stare at her, half-amused, half-embarrassed. “oh, come on. it’s not like it’s toxic waste.”

“might as well be,” she snaps, though there’s a glint of amusement in her eyes. “look at what you did!” she adds, pointing at the faint cheeto dust now smeared on her porcelain skin.

“sorry,” you laugh, grabbing a tissue and trying to wipe it off, only for karina to pull back like you’re trying to brand her.

“don’t touch me!”

“you’re such a drama queen,” you say, still laughing.

she scowls, but there’s no real anger behind it. “one of these days, you’re going to have to find someone else to hang out with.”

“and one of these days, you’re gonna admit you like hanging out with me, cheetos fingers and all,” you retort.

“don’t push your lock, loser,” her eyes narrow, but she can’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “come to our gig this weekend, please?”

you shook your head - unfortunately, you had plans. “i can’t, i promised mina i’d join her party tonight.”

and within a second, karina inches closer towards you — burning holes through your face. “mina? party? what?”

“oh, not that kind of party,” you don’t pick up on the way her tone changes. “it’s a chat party, we’re gonna play games all night and —“

“who is this mina?”

“she’s from japan, really cool and she sings too, sometimes she sends me legos from japan.”

“no, you’re coming to our gig,” she shakes her head, not wanting to hear another girl’s name coming out of your mouth. “and that’s final, yes?”

“yes, okay,” the directness catches you off guard but it doesn’t take long to convince you, specially if karina and her dirty stares are involved. plus, you could always join mina’s party later on.

a strange mix of emotions start brewing in your stomach — guilt, excitement and something you can’t quite name. you’ve never been good at reading people, and with karina, everything feels even more complicated. you’ve never liked anyone before, not like this, and the whole thing is so new, so raw. you don’t know if her insistence is just about wanting you in the crowd, or if it means something more.

you’re still trying to process it when karina stands up, stretching lazily. “i should probably get going,” she says, grabbing her jacket from the back of the couch. “ningning’s angry spamming me, i’m late to practice.”

“yeah,” you reply, watching her as she heads for the door. “have fun.”

“can i come over again later?”

you smile, feeling a heap of butterflies down your stomach. “anytime.”

she gives you one last, lingering look before she leaves, and you’re left alone in the suddenly too-quiet space, your mind racing with questions you don’t know how to answer as you head back to your room and turn your console on.

yunjin returns a while later, looking a bit worn out but still cheerful. “hey, i’m back,” she calls, tossing her keys on the table before popping her head in your room. “did i miss anything?”

you hesitate for a moment, then decide to just spill it. “karina invited me to their gig this weekend.”

her eyebrows shoot up. “and? are you going?”

“yeah,” you admit, feeling a mix of excitement and confusion. “she was really keen about it.”

she studies you for a moment, then sits down next to you, her expression serious. “what’s going on, y/n?”

“i just don’t get her,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. “one minute she’s mean, the next she’s nice. and now she’s acting all weird about me going to her gig. and she comes here to hang out with me but i know she’s a heartbreaker and i don’t want —“

“she likes you,” yunjin cuts you off bluntly, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“but what does that even mean?” you ask, feeling a surge of frustration. “i’ve never…don’t know how to deal with this. why?”

“it means she wants you there because she cares about you,” she explains patiently. “you know you’re a catch right? she even gets jealous when other girls are around you.”

“jealous?” you repeat, the word feeling foreign in this context.

“yes, jealous,” yunjin confirms, nodding. “karina’s not used to feeling like she’s not the center of someone’s attention, especially yours.”

you let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping. “this is all so confusing. i’ve never liked anyone before. i don’t know what to do.”

“you don’t have to do anything,” yunjin reassures you, her voice gentle. “just be honest with yourself. if you like her, let yourself like her. don’t overthink it.”

“easier said than done,” you mutter.

“i know,” yunjin agrees, her expression sympathetic. “but maybe this is one of those things you have to figure out as you go.”

you nod slowly, feeling a small sense of comfort in her words. “yeah, maybe.”

and as you sit there, replaying the conversation with karina in your mind, you realise that yunjin might be right. maybe this is something you have to navigate one step at a time, no matter how uncertain it feels. because despite everything, one thing is clear: you want to be there, even if you’re not entirely sure what it means.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the weekend arrives faster than you expect, and soon enough, you’re standing outside the venue for aespa’s gig. the usual nerves are there, made worse by the fact that this time, karina explicitly asked you to be here. yunjin’s with you, chatting excitedly about the show as you both head inside. your mind is elsewhere, tangled up in all the uncertainty that karina’s invitation has stirred up.

“you okay?” yunjin asks, nudging your shoulder as you both make your way to the backstage area.

“yeah,” you lie, forcing a smile. “nervous, i guess.”

“don’t worry,” she reassures you. “it’s gonna be fun, at least you’re finally with me instead of that musty corner.”

you try to take her words to heart, but as you step backstage, a new wave of anxiety hits. the chaotic energy of the crew prepping for the show is overwhelming, and you can’t seem to spot karina anywhere.

“she’s probably getting ready,” yunjin suggests, noticing your fidgeting.

“maybe,” you mutter, but something feels off.

you’ve been backstage before, but never like this. tonight, it’s different because you know karina specifically wants you here, which only makes her absence feel sharper.

after a few more minutes pass and there’s still no sign of karina, you make a decision. “i’m gonna go look for her,” you tell the girls.

“want me to come with?” winter asks.

you shake your head. “no, it’s fine. i’ll be quick.”

you wander through the backstage area, dodging equipment and crew members as you make your way toward the quieter sections.

that’s when you spot them: karina, standing in a dark corner with another girl, their heads close together.

a sinking feeling forma in your chest. something about the way they’re standing feels too intimate, like you’re intruding on a private moment. you can’t make out their conversation, but then you hear your name.

“y/n? really?” the girl scoffs, her voice dripping with disdain. “you’re actually interested in that loser?”

you recognise the voice now — it’s soyeon, karina’s ex. the one you’d seen flirting with karina before, she was the ex.

karina’s voice is low, almost defensive. “she’s not a loser.”

“could’ve fooled me,” soyeon replies, her tone harsh. “come on, karina, you know she’s just a rebound.”

you feel your face flush, a mix of anger and humiliation burning in your chest. part of you wants to step forward, to confront them both, but your feet feel like they’re stuck to the ground.

then, suddenly, soyeon closes the gap between them, her lips crashing against karina’s. for a moment, karina doesn’t pull away. instead, she seems to hesitate, caught between resisting and giving in.

that’s all it takes for you to turn and leave, your heart pounding in your chest. you push your way through the backstage crowd, barely registering yunjin calling after you. everything feels like a blur, like the world has tilted sideways and you’re the only one struggling to stay upright.

you’re back at your dorm before you even know how you got there. you slump onto your bed, trying to make sense of what you just saw. your emotions are a confusing mess of hurt, anger, and a crushing sense of betrayal.

all the uncertainty you’d been feeling, all the questions you’d tried to answer, now feel pointless.

you’re not sure how much time passes, mina and some of your friends are on the other end of the screen, but then there’s a loud knock at the door.

“y/n! open up!”

it’s karina’s voice, and she sounds angry.

“damn y/n,” mina chuckles. “who did you piss off?”

you hesitate for a moment, but then you get up and open the door. “i’ll be back guys, won’t be long,” you hear a bunch of ‘ooooh’s’ from them before pause.

your expression is blank when you open the door — karina storms in, her face flushed and her eyes filled with anger.

“why did you not show up?” she demands, her voice sharp. “i told you i wanted you there!”

“yeah, well,” you say, your voice colder than you intended. “i had a good reason.”

she frowns, clearly confused. “what are you talking about?”

“i saw you,” you snap, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “back there, with soyeon. i heard what she said, and then you kissed her.”

her eyes widen, and for a moment, she looks genuinely shocked. “wait, you were there?”

“obviously,” you say bitterly, crossing your arms. “or do you just make out with your ex in front of your toys at every gig?”

karina’s face hardens, her anger replaced by a mix of guilt and frustration. “it wasn’t like that.”

“oh, really?” you challenge. “because it sure looked like that from where i was standing.”

“she came onto me,” karina insists, her voice desperate now. “i didn’t want it, y/n. you have to believe me, you mean so much more to me than you think.”

“i don’t have to do anything,” you say, feeling a surge of hurt rise up again. “you asked me to come, and then you turned around and kissed her. how am i supposed to believe anything you say?”

she runs a hand through her hair, her frustration evident. “it was a mistake, okay? i was just caught off guard.”

“well, congratulations,” you say, your voice breaking slightly. “you definitely caught me off guard too.”

“please, y/n, you have to understand. i didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she takes a step closer, her expression pleading.

“it’s my fault for believing something.”

“what are you saying?” she asks, her voice almost panicked. “i do like you, way much more than i’d like to admit.”

“i don’t know if i can do this,” you admit, your chest tightening with the words. “i don’t know how to deal with all of this — specially not when you’re like this.”

karina’s face crumples slightly, but she tries to hold it together. “y/n, i’m sorry. i really am. i don’t know why i did it. maybe it’s because i’m a mess, but i don’t want to lose you.”

“you might have already,” you say, feeling tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but refusing to let them fall.

“don’t say that,” she whispers, her voice filled with a kind of desperation you’ve never heard before.

you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “i need time, karina. i need to figure out what this means for me.”

her expression softens, and she nods slowly. “okay. i’ll give you time. just don’t shut me out completely, please.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the days after the argument are rough, to say the least. you do everything you can to avoid karina —ducking into classrooms when you spot her in the hallway, sitting at different lunch tables, even changing your usual route to class.

the hurt and confusion from that night still linger, like a bruise that refuses to heal. you thought seeing her with soyeon would make things clearer, that it’d help you move on, but instead it’s just left you feeling hollow.

karina tries to reach out, of course. you get texts, missed calls, and the occasional knock on your dorm door that you pointedly ignore. the messages range from desperate pleas to frustrated demands, but you’re too tired to engage, too confused to even know where to begin.

“you can’t avoid her forever, you know,” yunjin says one evening as she flops down next to you on the couch.

“i’m doing a pretty good job of it so far,” you mumble, keeping your eyes fixed on your phone screen, pretending to be engrossed in bitlife.

“seriously, y/n,” she continues, her tone more concerned now. “you need to talk to her. she’s been a wreck.”

“oh, so now i’m supposed to feel bad for her?” you snap, the words more bitter than you intended.

she sighs, rubbing her temples. “no, but shutting her out completely isn’t going to fix anything. i know you’re hurt, and you have every right to be, but maybe there’s more to this than you realise.”

“more?” you ask incredulously. “like what? she kissed her ex. right after telling me she wanted me at the gig.”

“i get it, but people make mistakes. and from what the others told me, karina really does care about you and she’s really trying to show it.”

“well, she’s doing a great job of showing the opposite,” you snap, leaning back into the couch.

“you need to hear her out,” she insists. “even if it’s just to get closure.”

“yeah, maybe.”

the next day, you’re in the middle of a study session in the library when giselle, winter and ningning appear, sliding into the chairs across from you. you glance up, already dreading what’s coming.

“we need to talk,” ningning says, her voice gentle but firm.

you sigh, closing your textbook. “if this is about karina, i don’t want to hear it.”

“too bad,” giselle replies, folding her arms. “because we’re not here for your approval. we’re here to make you face reality.”

you glare at her, but there’s no real anger behind it, just exhaustion. “and what’s reality, exactly?”

“reality is that karina’s a mess without you,” winter speaks, her eyes sincere. “she’s been snapping at everyone, barely talking to us. it’s like she doesn’t know how to function.”

“and you think that’s my problem?” you ask, trying to sound indifferent.

“yes,” giselle answers bluntly. “because whether you want to admit it or not, you care about her.”

“i don’t know if i do anymore,” you confess, your voice small.

“you do,” winter says softly. “and she knows she messed up. she’s trying to fix it, but she can’t if you won’t even talk to her.”

you feel a pang of guilt at their words, but the hurt from seeing karina and soyeon still lingers, like a wound that hasn’t scabbed over yet. “i don’t know if i can forgive her.”

“no one’s saying you have to forgive her right away,” ningnint replies, her tone surprisingly gentle. “talk to her. let her explain.”

later that night, you’re alone in your room, staring at your phone. karina’s last text is still on the screen: “please, y/n. just talk to me. i miss you.”

you close your eyes, trying to fight the urge to respond. everything about this situation feels messy and complicated, and you hate it. you’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and you don’t know how to navigate it. the push and pull of your emotions is exhausting, and you’re torn between wanting to hear her out and wanting to protect yourself from more hurt.

as you sit there, you hear yunjin’s words echoing in your head: “you need to hear her out, even if it’s just to get closure.”

you let out a frustrated sigh, tossing your phone onto the bed. you know she’s right, and deep down, you know that ignoring karina isn’t going to make the pain go away.

the next morning, you wake up with a sense of determination you haven’t felt in days. you’re not sure if you’re ready to forgive karina, but you know you can’t keep running from her either.

you spend most of the day debating when and where you’ll finally confront karina. your nerves are on edge, your thoughts a jumbled mess of everything you want to say, but also everything you’re afraid to admit.

after your last class, you find yourself making your way toward the music building. it’s the only place you’re sure karina will be — probably rehearsing with the others, maybe alone. the whole walk there, your heart hammers in your chest, and you can’t stop fidgeting with the strap of your bag.

you’ve rehearsed a thousand things to say in your head, but as you approach the familiar practice room, your mind goes blank. for a brief moment, you consider turning around and leaving. but before you can talk yourself out of it, the door swings open.

karina stands there, her eyes widening in surprise. for a second, neither of you speaks.

“y/n,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper.

you swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “can we talk?”

“yeah,” she says immediately, stepping aside to let you in. the room is empty, dimly lit, and filled with the lingering sound of guitar chords from earlier practice.

you both take a seat on the edge of the small stage, the air heavy with tension. karina’s gaze is cautious, like she’s afraid of making the wrong move.

“i know i don’t have the right to ask anything from you,” she starts, her voice low and raw. “but i really need you to hear me out.”

you nod slowly, bracing yourself for whatever she’s about to say.

“that night,” she continues, her eyes filled with regret, “i messed up. i let soyeon get too close, and i didn’t stop her soon enough. but i swear, y/n, it didn’t mean anything. it was a stupid moment of weakness.”

you feel a twinge of hurt, but you try to stay composed. “then why didn’t you pull away sooner?”

she looks down, as if the weight of your question is too much to bear. “i don’t know,” she admits, her voice breaking slightly. “maybe it’s because i was scared of how real things were getting with you. or maybe it’s because i’ve always been too good at sabotaging anything good in my life.”

“so, what am i supposed to do?” you ask, feeling a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “just pretend it never happened?”

“no,” karina says quickly, shaking her head. “i don’t expect that. i want you to know that you’re not just another person to me. you’re not a rebound, and you’re not a distraction.”

you take a deep breath, trying to process her words. “then what am i, karina? because honestly, i have no idea where i stand with you.”

her eyes soften, voice quieter than before. “you’re the first person who’s made me want to try. really try. and that scares the hell out of me, but i don’t want to lose you.”

you sit there for a moment, the words hanging heavy in the air. this whole situation is still new, still confusing, but her sincerity feels more genuine than anything you’ve felt from her before.

“i’m scared too,” you finally admit, your voice barely audible. “i don’t know how to do this, karina. i’ve never liked anyone before. not like this.”

her expression softens further, and she reaches out hesitantly, her hand stopping just short of yours. “we don’t have to figure it all out right now. i just want to be honest with you. and if you’re willing to give me another chance, i promise i’ll do better.”

“okay,” you say quietly, finally meeting her gaze. “one chance, karina. that’s all you get.”

her eyes light up with a mix of relief and something else, something that looks a lot like hope. “i won’t mess it up. i swear.”

you manage a small smile, feeling a tiny weight lift from your chest. “we’ll see.”

the days that follow are tentative, filled with awkward moments and intimate conversations. karina is different now — not softer, exactly, but more attentive. she tries to be less mean in her teasing, though the familiar edge still slips out sometimes.

“nice shoes,” she says one morning as you’re both walking to class. “you finally decide to wear something that doesn’t look like it came from a dumpster?”

you roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite in her words anymore. “you’re still terrible at compliments.”

“working on it,” she admits with a smile.

the rest of the girls notice the shift too, specially yunjin, who seems pleased with the progress.

“told you it’d work out,” she says one evening as you both sit in your dorm, watching another episode of the witcher.

“we’re not exactly there yet,” you warn, but there’s a small smile on your lips.

“well, you’re getting there,” yunjin replies confidently. “and that’s enough for now.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

then comes another gig, this time with less anxiety and more anticipation. you’re backstage again, but this time, karina finds you before the show starts.

“you came,” she says, a genuine smile breaking across her face.

“of course i did,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “i said i’d give you a chance, didn’t i?”

her eyes soften, and she reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “and i’m not wasting it.” as she heads for the stage, she throws a glance over her shoulder. “stay close this time.”

when the music starts, you find yourself smiling, the weight of the past few weeks finally beginning to lift. you don’t have all the answers yet, but for now, just being here feels like enough.

the end.

[voidhope]

The Other Woman

(Part 2 FINALE)

—

Synopsis: Miguel had left Y/N for another version of his old wife in hopes of getting his old life back. To only realize the mistakes he’s made.

Link to Part 1

Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!reader

Warnings: very heavy mental health, ANGST LIKE A LOT OF ANGST, ALL OF THIS IS ANGST, mentions of death/almost dying, long term establish relationship, cheating, swearing, therapy, physical fight, blood, feral protective miguel?

—

A/N: hello again! this one is more heartbreaking and longer than the first part oof… Very low dialog up until closer towards the end! wanted to just get through telling the story itself and the emotions. It’s just a very heavy storyline!! I want to say thank you so so much for showing so much support for part 1 i had no idea it would receive that much attention :O !! i wrote this out kinda fast as i didn’t want to loose the momentum of the idea. so apologies for any mistakes! all feedback is greatly appreciated ~

—————————————————

You used to make Miguel coffee everyday, with one cream two sugars, and he would nag about how he hated the taste. It was to your liking, not his. As you would sneakily take sips out of his mug while working next to him. Why didn’t you just get your own coffee? You claimed you could never finish it and just wanted a taste out of his. Miguel would roll his eyes at you every time he caught you but he adored it. He had secretly grown to love the way you made it and had become his only way of making coffee after meeting you.

Now as this version of his older wife made it the way he is suppose to like coffee, bland and straight, he found himself bothered by it. Going as far to correct her even though this was what he had been claiming to have missed so much. He was now seeing himself teaching someone else how to love him like you did…

He was only a shell of the man he was when he had Gabriella. Even though the copy of his old wife has her same personality, the relationship couldn’t be exactly how it was before because he had changed so much. You had helped him become whole again. His tastes and likings had all switched to everything about you. The charm he found in his old wife doesn’t hold a light to you now and he was getting frustrated. He had wanted this so badly. He felt like those babies who whine and cry wanting to eat a lemon and once they get their way they realize the sour truth.

Miguel never truly realized what it was like to loose you until three weeks after he told you the truth. Over the years the idea of losing you terrified him but he only ever thought of it being in death. He never considered separation when everything was perfect for both of you then. There were times he believed that you were made just for him and he treated you like his queen. Which you truly were to him in his spider society. Why would he ever throw that away? Look at what he did.

He gave himself every excuse in the book before you knew he was cheating on you. ‘This is only for research.’ he would think every time he found himself back in that universe. As everyone knew he was so serious about his work, obviously this is just him getting to know more about certain universes and canons. Lyla was the only one seeing straight through him knowing where he was actually going. Things kept tumbling and the more he found out about the place and spent time with her the more his grief and yearning returned. It was all just there, so reachable.

There was a time his mind tried to snap him back out of it while cheating on you and made him realize the guilt. The first time he kissed this woman you were there in his mind. He came home right after and held you without saying a word. You never questioned him, just showed him comfort as much as you could. Lightly stroking his back, you never over stepped or pushed him when he was vulnerable with you. He only closed his eyes and held onto you tighter processing how you were always too good for him. He was converting to living two different lives; his old self during the day and then coming home to you. He didn’t want to let go of either at the time.

Once he found out he could safely have Gabriella again was when he became distant with you. The shame of using you for research made him become stoic. He didn’t want to admit how wrong he was treating you. All while you were always being so loyal and trusting towards him. Things were slowly slipping through the cracks and he knew he couldn’t up keep it. He wished he could have had that conversation with you so much differently but it was over. Now he had his old life back, a dream he had his mind set on.

He ignored the shakiness in his hands when he returned to her after letting you go. ‘It’s all for the best.’ is what he would repeat in his mind as a mantra. His new girlfriend truly had no idea who he really was or what his background was. Miguel continued to feed her lies to the point where he even started believing them himself getting too lost in avoiding what he’s done. He believed he was happy as he spent time with her.

When she got too close to finding the truth after finding his wedding ring in one of his pockets, he set her off course from it by revealing his spider identity and taking her to HQ. This was the day that everything felt like it was crashing around him. Being reminded of his marriage, having to face his friends with his new lover, sharing his personal spider life, his work with someone who wasn’t you. He excused himself rushing to an unused office room while his chest was tightening. Pupils dilating as he realized it was his first time having a panic attack.

Nevertheless he continued to push it all aside and act completely normal with his girlfriend. He was feeling your absence the most while working. You had became an extension of him. He had trained you from scratch and you helped him build this society he has now. You knew the ins and outs of everything and fought perfectly alongside him. Now that he was on his own he let his girlfriend be there for him when he got stressed, but there always was a knot in his stomach he never could get rid of.

The more his mental health ate at him late at night the more he considered searching out for you. There was no closure between both of you and he never got to listen to how you feel. What was your opinion on all that happened? Do you hate him?

He wanted to speak with someone so badly but he dug himself in a hole too deep. You were gone, he was lying through his teeth to this poor woman he’s kept for some fantasy, he felt too ashamed to say anything to his friends, he would rather die if all his workers found out how big of a piece of shit he is. Anytime Lyla tried peeping a word that wasn’t work related he would snap. He had pushed everyone away and now he just felt alone.

Regardless he would wake up in the morning and swallow all his dark feelings. He would remember his grief of when he lost his family and it would put him back in the moment. He has another chance. He was happy with the direction he was going in now.

Right?

—

The day he found out you were at HQ he felt his heart stop. He was mid mission trying to call for Lyla but she wouldn’t answer. Frustrated he tried looking into what was happening only to see her busy having a conversation with you. It felt like something took over him when he opened a portal in less than a second. Without thinking nor wasting a heartbeat he rushed back. Just a glimpse of you, maybe just to hear a word out of your mouth. The feeling of having you back in HQ was making him ignore all his insecurities. How he would coward at the thought of trying to reach out to you before. You were in his home, your home, and the thought drove him wild.

You were already long gone though. Lyla stared at him not saying a word. The quietness in the room making his ears ring but his thoughts were screaming in his head. He stood there frozen still trying to recollect himself. He was the one that left you, what is wrong with him?

Again he went back and forth in his own head trying to convince himself ‘You wanted this.’ but if he did why is he feeling like someone just killed a puppy in front of him? Why is he here fighting with his self if this is really his dream? Why did he try chasing after you? The wounds of his past grief were too deep. He never took the time to properly heal and now look at what he’s become.

“Miguel, what’s this?” He was startled turning around seeing his girlfriend holidng your watch and skimming through the divorce paperwork addressed to him.

There was no more hiding, no more lying. He swallowed hard even though his throat was dry. He let everything he had kept away rise to surface. It hurt him to see the beautiful face his old wife shared contort into such anger and pain while finding the truth.

She didn’t stay, but for some reason he wasn’t upset. Though he longed for his daughter, he knew it would have never been the same now. He finally closed the door on his past. His heart had made the choice this time but it’s too late. Now grasping onto the divorce papers left by you, emptiness spread through his soul.

—

You on the other hand did not find yourself crying by yourself on a rooftop for long. The shift in the air from your arrival alerted the local spider-man immediately.

“It didn’t work out, did it?” He crouched down next to you as he noticed your watch gone and your missing wedding band.

Peter Parker knew both you and Miguel. Your husband had come to do many rounds of research in this universe when he took you. Eventually offering this Peter a spot in the society, which he politely declined due to just being busy enough here. You both never spoke much but always had an appreciation for each other.

“Do you need a place to crash at?” He continued while trying to get you to look at him. Reaching his hand towards you.

You had absolutely no one and you had been gone so long you couldn’t even go back to the little you had. When you met Miguel you didn’t hesitate to never look back and now it filled you with regret. How naive were you to put all your trust and reliance on him.

You took Peter’s hand. You were ready to start your own life and be your own person now.

—

Peter Parker was nice enough to let you stay with him as long as you needed it. You both had became ‘besties!’ as he would love to poke at you. The first month with him you were a disaster really but he showed you how he liked to cope using his spider abilities.

The first thing he helped you with was getting a new suit. Your old one resembled too much to Miguel’s and you felt suffocated every time you put it on. Peter had taught you to use your current emotional pain on whichever sad little villain was making trouble out in Brooklyn that night.

“Come on, we got multiverse spider-woman helping me keep these streets clean now!” He would taunt at the men while watching you easily take them out a little bit too aggressively. His feet kicking up and down while he sat on the side of a building watching you. The crime rate did go down a bit once word got around how strong your punch was. Peter’s just happy he can now spend some nights to himself.

You got yourself a job at the mart on the corner to help cover bills for Peter and save up. You were grateful enough the owners never batted an eye when you would disappear during a shift to either suddenly go cry uncontrollably or beat the shit out of someone at a nearby robbery. Next thing you were enrolling yourself back in university, wanting to finish that degree you never did.

It wasn’t too long that some of your older spider friends would stop by to check in on you. Seeing them was difficult sometimes, you were internally itching to ask about Miguel. Things were going okay for you on a very slow path of breathing step by step. You never wanted to feel that hurt again and so you very well pretend like Miguel didn’t exist if you could.

You couldn’t ignore the hurt resurfacing when you passed couples on the street. Or when you found yourself going to fidget with your wedding ring just to remember it’s gone. You can’t just move on from a relationship that was so deeply apart of you and lasted so long. You gave everything to him and it will take you much time to get yourself to build trust again.

After two semesters, you finally had your graduation. All the things you learned while in Earth-928 paid off as you barley had to study. Passing top of the class, you immediately got an offer for an internship opportunity with Alchemax and was able to get an introduction tour of the building beforehand.

What you hadn’t realized was that Alchemax had been looking for that girl who snuck into their offices a couple years ago. Who made another dimension’s spider appear and then went missing herself soon after. They had kept as close tabs on you as they could and how foolish you were to think your little break in wouldn’t come back to bite you. The moment you stepped foot back in their building, it was over for you.

—

Miguel had spent a whole year in much deserving therapy. Nothing could stop the embarrassment he felt when Peter B signed him up with HQ’s best spider-therapist after 3 months of constant out bursts. No one could come near the man when he felt like he had lost everything. Those first initial months were difficult for everyone around him.

Therapy did help, he hates to admit it, but it was a very rough ride. He finally was able to understand his deep inner term oil and heal his issues but moving on from you? No, he could never.

You were the only one who had sincerely stood by his side, always rooting for him. He never fell out of love with you despite of everything that he did. He just pushed everything down too deep and was blinded by obsession. Till now he could never deny that he still loves you. Maybe if he just would have went to therapy years ago instead of acting out on unsolved grief none of this would have happened. The guilt always making him toss and turn at night.

He would have big temper tantrums when he would find his coworkers going to visit you time to time and not sharing any details. He needed to know if you’re okay. Did you already move on? He longed to find you and speak with you but he knew he wasn’t ready yet. He was so self destructive and this was what he deserved.

Everyone avoided him completely when he overheard someone saying you were living with Peter Parker. Fighting crime with him and having a cute little home life. Peter followed you around now like a puppy. Miguel did not take the news well at all. Let’s just say, the large bill replacement for his monitor screens was what snapped him out of that rage.

He also wanted to strangle Hobie Brown every time he saw a glint in his eye when your name was mentioned around. Yet Miguel couldn’t hate the kid either, as Hobie was one of the people to try help repair the damage he did to you. How badly he just wanted to hold you and shield you in his arms from any other people taking you from him as if he wasn’t the idiot to let you go in the first place.

Everyone’s big, powerful, scary boss was really just a grumpy, wallowing-in-self-pity, sensitive, lonely man now. Mention your name too much to him and watch him start crying or take it out on whatever he could find nearest to him. He would some nights scroll through your wedding photos while listening to your last tracked log with Lyla. Your words cutting through him deep like long sharp knives. How he urged to go tell you it was all wrong and how guilty he was for making you feel like this.

Despite it all, he still believed in being the best of the best. He used his work to distract himself from his sorrows, to become numb. Even though his divorce paperwork were set next to him on his desk to remind him the pain. He never signed it.

—

“We can’t tell him!” Jessica gritted through her teeth. Small group of spider-people were hovered around Lyla taking in the new found information.

“Her canon events have always been uncertain, we can’t just stop and fix this one?” Gwen Stacy suggested in hopes.

“We have never prevented a canon event of hers or the people involved in it. It could be even more dangerous than a regular canon.” Peter B spoke grimly.

“When ‘as danger ever stopped us?” Hobie spoke up.

“Everyone get your gear.” Lyla added to the stress of the situation.

—

You couldn’t open your eyes properly with a strong blinding light being held above you. Arms and legs secured on top of a metal surgical table. You could feel the warmth of blood scattered on certain parts of your body, slowly starting to dry. It was a mix of yours and the people you had tried fighting through to get out of here when you realize the trap you were reeled into. Different people in lab coats poked and pried all around you while you were tied. Your mask was thrown on another table and your suit had large gashes across it.

Soon you also could feel the presence of Peter Parker being brought to the room, thrown slumped in the corner breathing heavily. They had gotten you too good. They knew everything and had planned this so detailed.

“Now you’re going to help me open the multiverse.” Kingpin loomed around you. All you could feel was searing pain as a laser aimed right at your chest.

—

Miguel was already staring out the window to the glowing night lights of Nueva York when he saw a big hole appear in sight of the skyline. His eyebrows furrowed while he was trying to process what he was looking at. It wasn’t a second later when all alarms started going off in his office.

“Qué carajos?” He exclaimed seeing the alerts of a possible universe collapse. “Lyla! Why wasn’t this being taken care of already?”

“I already sent people.”

“Then what are they doing?” He yelled. His confusion and anger only furthered when he saw a red alarm for a canon event.

“Canon event?” He whispered to himself. He always knew when these were happening, there were none scheduled for today. There was no way he would let one passed him, it’s not like this could magically appear? His jaw dropped in realization… a new canon event.

“Lyla, tell me the truth. Why wasn’t this reported to me?” He made the atmosphere turn cold. She knew he already figured it out.

“A new canon event was received this morning being given to Peter Parker. Of Y/N L/N’s death.” The words from Lyla made Miguel’s body go still. His eyes raced side to side while he processed it.

“No!” He roared, a fist slamming into the nearby desk. His massive strength breaking it in half.

“Boss, you can’t go on this mission only using your emotions.” Lyla warned. However Miguel was already half way stepping through a portal to find you.

He appeared, watching his team struggle to shut down the machine causing the collapse. Outnumbered by the amount of Alchemax puppets. A different kind of rage filled him as he saw you, for the first time in a year, suffering. Miguel was never one to act reckless while on missions but he had no plan here and just ran off the pure adrenaline the fight or flight had hit him with.

His claws tore into the backs of his enemies as he jumped beast-like across the room. Not hesitating spilling blood across the wall while he took everyone down as fast as he could. His team could only watch wide eye with an unsettling fear as they saw Miguel lose himself to his spider sense. While he fought they took the opportunity to take apart the machine.

Miguel was panting heavily, pupils blown wide glowing red, and fangs dripping with venom as the room slowly silenced. Kingpin laid on the floor slowly trying to drag himself after being beaten to a pulp. It was over. Peter B stopped him from doing anything further. Knowing Miguel would kill the man, Peter B let the team finish up to give Kingpin to authorities. Miguel turned frantically to look at you seeing the other spiders step away. Peter Parker was hunched over you in tears. Miguel fought the urge to snap at Peter and grab his hands off of you.

Your vision was too blurry and everything felt like it was burning. A shape that seemed too familiar came into your peripheral vision and you tried to push yourself up.

“Miguel?” Was the last thing you croaked before slumping back passing out. Miguel catching you in his arms before you could hurt yourself further.

“It’s her time.” Jessica spoke behind him. Yet he was refusing to let go. He had never defied the way the timeline worked since he created his society. He would never break the rules and you both had promised each other before not to. If there was a situation like this you both agreed to save the universe first. How stupid was he to think he would listen to that now facing it in-front of him.

He never got to tell you what happened. He never got to apologize. He never got to tell you one more time that he loved you. Even if you in result just spat in his face, at least he was able to talk to you one more time. You were never a placeholder or someone to fill a hole in his heart. His whole heart belonged to you and he couldn’t let you go thinking you didn’t mean anything to him. No matter the consequences, he needed to tell you.

“Call all the teams to control the damage of a possible universe collapse.” He turned to Jess with Y/N tightly in his arms. The spider-people watched speechless as he opened a portal and disappeared.

—

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—

Two weeks you laid motionless in the HQ’s medbay.

The clean up after breaking the canon was a little intense. They were able to get it under control as the event started to fade from your timeline once you were returned and starting to heal in Earth-928.

The spider society would remain silent near the medbay. The lights always being dimmed and hushed whispers between staff to not bother the distressed O’Hara. He refused to leave.

Your Peter Parker had now joined the team, much to Miguel’s dismay. Everyday your friends would come in and check to see how you were. Some telling stories about their day or any gossip updates you missed, in hopes that it would get you to wake up. They would ignore the gloomy Miguel who was basically glued to the seat next to you not saying a word to anyone.

At night Miguel would play with your fingers and softly stroke your hair all while pleading “Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me. Por favor mi alma.” He knew it wasn’t his place to beg this after what he did, but he didn’t mind the words falling on deaf ears.

Miguel hadn’t eaten in days, he felt too nauseous from anxiety to even try anything. Pavitr had done the favor to bring you and Miguel’s favorite empanadas from a small street vendor downtown. Hoping to get Miguel to at least try the food before he ended up in a hospital bed next to you due to starvation.

You started to blink open your eyes, spots surrounding your vision. You could hear a soft breathing to your right side and you slowly felt your sense come back one by one. It felt like you just had a really rough nap.

“Oh my god that smells so good.” You moaned, sitting yourself up to try to look at where the smell of food was coming from.

You were met with a wide eyed Miguel holding a box of empanadas. His jaw slacked open acting as if he’s seen a ghost looking at you. Confusion hit you first for a second and then you start to panic.

Why was he here? Why was your ex-husband sitting right here? You started to push away from him and Miguel caught on to your panic.

“No, no, no mi amor stop.” He tried calming you. “You’re hurt, you’re going to open your stitches.”

You suddenly remembered everything that happened right before you blacked out. At that moment you forgot the hurt you had towards your ex-lover. Gathering yourself you just stared at him. “I’m suppose to be dead.”

Tears rimmed your eyes. Why did it feel like life just hated you so much?

Miguel engulfed you in his arms as you started to cry. You didn’t care right now. You had ached for this feeling again, so alone, with the comfort Miguel used to bring you. Just for a moment you could pretend like how it was before.

“We can’t do this Miguel.”

He knew what you were thinking. He didn’t want to let you leave his arms yet, as he let his self hold harder and push your head closer into his the crook of his shoulder. The tickle of your breath on his neck, he just wanted this forever.

“She left. Almost a year ago.” He let out to you. A big weight coming off of his chest. You pulled back from him and looked up into his eyes while you watched him avoid your gaze. You felt bad to say you could feel a bit of satisfaction bubbling in you.

“Good, she deserved better.”

“So did you.” Miguel sighed playing with his hands. Your eyes widened when you saw the ring still on his finger. He let you stare. “I-I could never. I couldn’t.” The emotions struggle to come out of his mouth. You understood him though. You always did. Placing your hand on top of his you just nodded.

“Please stay here.” He whispered.

Miguel had broken you in so many ways. Yet he almost ruined another universe just to keep you alive. You both needed time to talk and coming out a coma right now isn’t good timing.

“I finally became my own person when I went back in my universe. I enjoyed my independence.” The words pelleted at him. He could only hold his breath as he waited for you to continue. “I’ll stay… but not for you.”

It wounded him deeply; but he deserved it. This place will always be a home for you even if he wasn’t apart of it. Before he can tear his gaze and turn away, you reached out to hold his face close to yours. Your fingers gently rubbing on his cheeks as you slowly look at him properly after so long. You let your thumb smooth over his frown lines and he leaned into your touch closing his eyes.

“Let’s give us time.” Was the words you blessed that opened every door of hope he could find. He would take it, he would absolutely take it. He has to fight for you, he has to prove to you. He would do anything but for now he’ll be on his best patiently waiting for you.

Both of you sat comfortably without speaking, only the faint background beeps of the hospital monitor making up for the silence, while passing small glances. For once both of you felt a missing warmth you didn’t realize you needed. Sharing empanadas with each other, just maybe it will be alright…

—————————————————

The end!!! Thank you so so much for your time in reading my story. i really really was so happy with all the comments and feedback on pt 1 it really meant a lot!!!

i hope this was ok ~ i apologize for how long it was i was thinking of doing another part but just wanted to finish this up. I was in such a conflict how to end this. i hope it wasn’t too cliche or anything i’m just a sucker for very wanty needy dramatic stories. It’s a hopeful ending tho~ i couldn’t pick with just happy or sad.

So many of you had tons of amazing suggestions which I appreciated so much. I was such a mess trying to figure it all out. Many of you wanted to see Y/N move on with another person but I ended up going this route. I used Peter Parker as an obv character in y/n’s universe but it’s not tied to any specific one and you guy can think of him more to your liking if you want to!

If any of you would like a small drabble or imagine of another route of this story or just anything angsty/possessive and rarwrarwbarkbark miguel. I’d be glad to help lol!! My request box is wide open~ i had so much fun writing this!

—

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[ja3yun]

please be real | p.js

ex!jay x fem!reader warnings: angst, heartache, smut (mdni), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, teasing, pet names (princess, baby), crying, mentions of alcohol, drunk jay, pure heartbreak in the beginning, not proofread, anything else lmk synopsis: after a six-year relationship, you and jongseong part ways due to different needs for the future. when jongseong's first birthday post-breakup arrives, his struggle with your absence reaches a breaking point, prompting a late-night call from his friend that consequently reignites emotions and unresolved feelings. wc: 9.4k a/n: hi! it's me and it's jay's birthday so i wrote him a little something something. i didn't initially intend to rip my heart out as i wrote this yet here i am. this was oddly a healing one to write but i must warn you it does mention the reader not wanting to have children so if that doesn't appeal to you then this probs isn't the fic for you! as always, like, comments, feedback, etc. is all appreciated! ilysm and happy bday jay <3

A sharp, jarring noise pierces your ears, the peaceful sleep you were in rudely disrupted. You groan out loud, covering your face with your covers but it does nothing to stop the ringing from your phone, it doesn’t even dull it a little, the little black device only echoing around the room louder.

Disoriented and groggy, you fumble for your phone on the bedside table, clumsily searching for it in the darkness. It isn’t your alarm, the usual peaceful tones of the birds chirping would be a welcomed sound, one that eases you into the day; no this was a phone call.

Finally grasping your phone, your eyes fight themselves open as you blink away any remnants of sleep, trying to find any sort of centre from your dizzy awakening. You look at the name on your phone but your vision is so blurred you can’t make it out but answer it anyway, knowing that whoever is phoning at this ungodly hour is clearly in need of your help.

“Hello?” you ask quietly, as if you don’t want to disturb the quiet of the night, unlike the person on the other end of the call.

“Uh, Y/N? It’s Jake.” His soft Australian accent drifts from your phone speaker into your ears. He sounds unsure whether he is supposed to be making the call, which to be fair, you understand because you haven’t heard from him in months, not after…

Letting out a sigh, you rub your forehead with the base of your palm tiredly, “Jake, why the fuck are you calling me at…” you pull the phone away, inspecting the time now that you’re more alert, “3.36am?” you ask with a hint of disdain. Normally, you would welcome the boy’s surprise call, after all, you did miss him. But considering he woke you up from a good dream involving you, Jeongin from Stray Kids, and a happily ever after; he wasn’t exactly your favourite person right now.

You can faintly hear some music in the background as he stays silent and you swear to yourself if this is to give him a ride home from a concert turned party, you’ll have his head.

“Listen, I hate to ask you this but can you come to Haven?”

“The nightclub? Why?” Your earlier suspicions are proving to be right, he does want a lift home. That would be an acceptable request if you guys were actively talking every day and the best of buddies but he isn’t even your friend, not really. 

You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, his voice can be heard trying to calm someone down but his words are obscured as if the phone is wrested away from his mouth, leaving only disjointed fragments of speech drifting through the receiver. 

This sounds like more than just a simple ride home and it causes you to snap to attention, your senses heightened with concern. 

Jake finally brings his attention back to you, letting out a sigh of discontentment, “It’s Jay, he’s a mess and he’s calling out for you.”

Jay. Park Jongseong.

It’s been so long since anyone has dared to mention his name to you that it almost sounds like a foreign word.

Seven months ago, you and Jongseong had decided to call off your 6-year relationship, both of you reaching the understanding that it was for the best considering your battling differences and needs within the relationship.

It wasn’t easy, the furthest thing from it actually. You and him had been inseparable since high school and once you both got together in year 12, it was always you and him against the world. He was the love of your life, that once in a lifetime kind of love that only happens in fairytales. Your souls were both painted from the same brush stroke.

But he wanted a peaceful, routine life - a classic white picket fence dream. Evenings would be spent with friends, savouring white wine and casual conversations over dinner. His heart was set on imagining the echoes of your future children's laughter filling your home, family trips to the seaside, and comforting them with kisses and band-aids when they got hurt.

And you craved spontaneity, to embrace life with vigour, travelling the world together was your dream, free from the responsibilities of parenting, cherishing moments just for yourselves. You longed for random midnight trips to Tesco for birthday cake simply because you could. All you wished for was to be with him, just the two of you.

Suddenly, your brain clicks into an important detail and you hurriedly check the calendar on your phone and the date makes you slump in your bed.

Today is Jongseong’s birthday, well technically not anymore given the time, but that means he has lived his first birthday without you by his side in so long. You would always celebrate his big day by doing something from his handwritten bucket list he has had since he was a child. Over the years he has added more to the list, each birthday scoring one out to add another.

The list wasn't extravagant; it was filled with simple yet heartfelt desires. You bought him a bundle of guitar lessons and a Taylor 114e electric guitar to fulfil his wish of learning to play. When you noticed the Download Festival marked with gold stars on his list, you surprised him with tickets for the year Metallica was headlining. And when he expressed a desire to cook a meal from scratch for his mum, you gifted him a kitchen knife engraved with his name and took the time to teach him how to prepare her favourite dish.

His birthdays were the most precious when you were in them, and you weren’t there with him.

“Y/N?” Jake’s sweet voice draws you back to his attention and out of the memory lane swirl your brain has put you in. He knows this is a tough call for you to take considering you and Jongseong said to cut ties completely; it’s better to act like you both didn’t exist than keep a thread tethered to one another that would only hurt you more.

As Jake and Sunghoon whisked Jay away for his birthday celebration, their intention was simple: to help him let loose and have a good time. Jay had been buried in overtime work lately, leaving little room for socialising. Since the breakup, the idea of going out without you - dancing together, stealing kisses in the taxi ride home - seemed unappealing.

Waking up that morning, Jay realised it marked the first birthday in six years without ticking something off his bucket list. The familiar, worn paper lay dormant on his desk, a stark reminder of your absence. He had no desire to celebrate today without you by his side. If he could fast-forward through the day to escape the weight of his birthday, he would eagerly do so.

Yet, with two very persuading friends and a whole lot of whiskey later, here he was, curled up outside Haven, yearning out for you.

“Y/N please, at least come and convince him to get up and come home with us,” Jake pleads. You can hear the cries of your ex-lover more clearly now as Jake kneels beside his friend, checking in on him.

With a resigned sigh, you nod, “Okay. Keep him warm, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

Hanging up the phone, you quickly put a brush through your hair and change into a baggy top, one you bought for Jongseong before breaking up, and a pair of grey sweatpants. This is a bad idea, you know it is, but you also can’t leave him to wallow in the middle of the street. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you didn’t help and Jake wouldn’t call unless it was something he couldn’t handle. 

You don’t want to see the state Jongseong is in, his wailing cries that you could slightly hear over the phone already made your heart clench in hurt.

As you drive to Haven, your heart races in anticipation with each mile that passes. Is your heart ready to face him after all these months? Staring into the love of your life’s eyes once again might break you even more. You’ve done a good job in keeping yourself together, at putting on a facade that everything is okay, when deep down you know that if one person asked you about Jongseong you would crumble and fall apart. 

He wasn’t the only one throwing himself into work to forget. You’ve worked hours and hours trying to keep your mind off the heartbreak, you thought that if you just focused and kept your head down, the phrase time heals all wounds would kick in and you’d be free of the torment of losing your first love. But it hasn’t worked out that way, you know that now as you speed down the empty roads to console the one person you are trying to forget.

As you reach Haven, you can vaguely see three boys under the illuminating sign, almost as if shining a spotlight on them to add to the spectacle that Jongseong is making. Onlookers are watching as your ex-boyfriend cries on the pavement, wishing you would come home.

With a quick exhale, you step out of the car before doubts can creep in, determined to be there for him. Jake and Sunghoon's voices float to you, attempting to soothe him and inject some sense into the moment. Bracing yourself, you approach, ready to offer whatever comfort you can, despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Sinking onto the balls of your feet, you lower yourself to Jongseong's level, meeting his strained figure. Instantly, the sight of his distress instantly shatters your heart into a million pieces.

An abundance of tears cascades down Jongseong's reddened face, obscuring his features like a relentless waterfall. His clenched jaw and the prominent vein on his forehead portray the intensity of his distress as he struggles to draw each laboured breath. Curled into himself, his body seems to contort with the weight of physical agony, mirroring the emotional pain that ripples through his trembling form. He’s been keeping this in for so long that his body doesn’t know how to cope with it.

Reaching out to grab his clenched fist, you shuffle forward, “Jjongie? It’s me, baby, look at me,” you say calmly, trying to reassure him with your soft voice.

As your fingers gently encircle his clenched fist, Jongseong's body tenses at the touch. Slowly, he turns his gaze towards you, his eyes bloodshot and filled with an overwhelming mixture of sorrow and longing. For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in his eyes before they cloud over again with anguish.

He doesn’t believe you’re actually here, considering the long nights where he has conjured up the idea of you, clinging to his imagination on the lonely nights he wishes for your touch. But as you squeeze his hand, he realises this isn’t a dream-induced sighting, you’re really here in front of him.

"Y/N..." he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. Tears stream down his face in torrents, some landing on your hand that holds his. His cries reverberate through the air, each wail a sharp stab to your chest.

Cupping his cheek, you settle yourself between his legs, ignoring the discomfort of the rocks beneath your knees, your focus solely on him. With a sad smile, you attempt to mask your own anguish, your touch a gentle reassurance amidst his storm of emotions.

"Hey, hey, enough of that now," you hush him softly, your voice a soothing melody in the tumultuous night. Using your thumb, you tenderly wipe away his tears, though they continue to flow unabated.

He leans into your touch, “I miss you so much, Y/N, please. Please,” he pleads as you feel his warm breath against your skin as he nuzzles into your palm, seeking solace in the familiar sensation he's been yearning for.

It’s hurting you just seeing him like this, the man you once knew to be strong-willed and resilient, keeping his emotions under control unless he’s sharing sweet vulnerable moments with you under the covers, is now a shell of himself, stripped bare by the weight of grief.

Turning your face to look at Jake, you offer him a small smile, “I’ll take him home.”

“You sure?” Jake asks, knowing that it’s a dangerous game for you both if you do.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to move unless I do,” you chuckle sympathetically but there’s a bubble in your throat as Jongseong’s whimpers flow into your ear from beside you.

Nodding, Jake gestures to Sunghoon, silently enlisting his help in the task of ferrying the drunk man to your car. The weight of Jongseong's limp form proves cumbersome as you all struggle to navigate his dead weight, his limbs hanging heavily without offering any assistance.

"Let's get you home," you murmur softly, your hands pressing gently against Jongseong's chest to steady him, aided by his friends who lift him onto their shoulders.

His eyes lock onto yours, an intensity burning within them. "Please be real," he whispers, his voice trembling with desperation. Despite feeling your touch and catching hints of your scent, doubt gnaws at him. If this is merely a figment of his imagination, he knows he'll never forgive himself. You're so close, so tangible - it has to be you.

With much struggle, the three of you get him to your car, putting him gently in the backseat so he can lie down, but he wraps his arms around your waist as his legs stay situated outside of the vehicle, holding you close to him.

"Come on, Jjongie, lie down for a minute," you coax gently, guiding him to stretch out along the seats. But he remains unmoving, clutching onto you as if fearing you'll slip away if he lets go. With a soft sigh, you stroke the back of his head, your hands moving in a soothing rhythm. "I promise, I am not going anywhere," you whisper, your words a tender vow to him.

Yet, your attempts to reassure him seem to go unheard. His face burrows deeper into your stomach, his words muffled by the fabric of your t-shirt and the weight of his tears.

You exchange a worried glance with Jake and Sunghoon, “How much did he have to drink?” you ask, scared of the answer they will give. Your ex-boyfriend has always been so good at holding his liquor that it must have been a hefty amount he consumed.

“Like two weeks' wage worth,” Sunghoon winces, his neck tightening as he looks at his best friend.

"Oh, baby..." you sigh softly, feeling a wave of empathy wash over you. Returning your attention to Jongseong, you press a tender kiss to the crown of his head, hoping to offer some comfort amidst his distress. His response is to cling to you even tighter, his sobs echoing against your chest as he seeks solace in your embrace.

You need to get him home, he’s a mess and the longer he stays like this, the more his body is going to wear out. 

With a gentle hand, you stroke his hair, your touch a soothing caress against his trembling form. Despite the chaos swirling around you, you find a semblance of peace in this intimate moment, anchored by the bond that still lingers between you.

"I've got you, Jjongie," you whisper softly, drawing back as he eases up his grip on you. His friends go to help you but you halt them with a firm gesture, "You guys can go, I've got it from here."

Sunghoon shakes his head, concern etched on his face. "He's too heavy, Y/N. You won't be able to manage him into the flat without us," he protests.

But you stand your ground. This is your and Jongseong's mess, and you can’t let others help you clean it up, "It's okay. You guys have done your shift for tonight. Go home," you insist, your voice resolute.

Reluctantly, Sunghoon and Jake nod and bid you goodnight before going their separate ways home, leaving you alone with Jongseong and the weight of your shared history.

Taking a deep breath, you hoist him in, his body listening to you a little more now that you’ve reassured him you aren’t leaving him. He sprawls over the backseats and lays still, the alcohol consuming him into some form of comatose now that he has relaxed slightly.

You slide into the driver's seat, the engine humming to life beneath you. Glancing at Jongseong's slumbering form in the rearview mirror, you steel yourself for the journey ahead.

_____

Arriving at his house makes you more nervous than before. This wasn’t just his flat, it used to be your shared home, the place you lived for 2 and half years and made countless memories in.

You were the one to move out and find your own place, thinking it was best since your work was further away and you could find an apartment closer to it. But the truth is, you just couldn’t face being reminded of him in each room and in the pieces of furnishings.

It was selfish of you to leave him with the remnants of your relationship surrounding him, all you thought about was you and your needs, neglecting to think about how he might feel being surrounded by nothing but memories.

Lugging him into the flat, his legs are working in tandem with you now unlike before but he still isn’t proving to be the easiest person to carry. The last time you had to hold his weight like this was when he got drunk at your prom after taking sneaky shots in the hotel garden with his friends. It was funny but you blame him for some of your back pain that you’ve endured in your early twenties.

As you push open the door and step into the living room, a wave of nostalgia washes over you like a tsunami. Though only seven months have passed, it feels like a lifetime since you last stood in this space with him by your side. Everything remains unchanged, frozen in time since the day you left. The same couch sits in its familiar spot, adorned with throw pillows and blankets you bought for last season. Photographs of you both, captured during Christmases and holidays, adorn the walls, each one a snapshot of happier times. Even the vase that his mum had gotten you both for your housewarming gift, one that you loved and he hated, remains in its pride of place on the mantlepiece.

You push your thoughts down and make your way to your once-shared bedroom, walking through the memories and heaving your ex-boyfriend along slowly. His nose nudges into your hair, sweeping in your scent as he loses himself in the feeling of you.

As you reach the familiar threshold, you can't help but feel a pang of bittersweet longing. This room, once a sanctuary where you both shared your laughter and bodies, now serves as a poignant reminder of the love you've lost.

Gently, you ease Jongseong onto the bed, sitting him up, “I’m going to get you some clean boxers okay?” you ask him but he’s not here, not really, so you make your way to the drawers on the other side of the room.

Walking over, you spot a familiar t-shirt lying crumpled on your old side of the bed. You make a b-line to investigate it and as you pick up the crumpled t-shirt, a flood of memories washes over you, transporting you back to simpler times. Your fingers trace the familiar fabric, still faintly carrying the scent of you, now mingled with his cologne. You piece it all together pretty quickly, the way it still smells faintly of you but is not starting to be overpowered by his cologne. He hugs it at night to find peace of mind.

“Oh, Jjongie,” you sigh, heart reaching out to him. You’re no better, you have one of his hoodies that you snuck into your luggage as you packed and wear it when you’re at home. Just like your t-shirt, his hoodie is starting to lose its scent from the amount of times you’ve hugged yourself to sleep in it.

Jongseong has always been reserved, his emotions carefully guarded behind a facade of reason and rationale. To see him like this, vulnerable and raw, strikes a chord deep within you. If he had always worn his heart on his sleeve, perhaps it would be easier to understand. But the complexity of his emotions only serves to deepen the ache in your chest.

You place the t-shirt back on the pillow before opening the dresser drawer and retrieve a clean pair of boxers, his favourite ones with the faded Hellow Kitty print that you've always teased him about.

Gently, you begin to undress him while he rambles incoherent nonsense that you can’t understand between the mix of tears and drunk slurring. The top half is easy but the bottom half proves difficult as he only looks up at you, whispering pleas as he stares at you, keeping his bum firmly sat on the edge of the bed.

As you finally manage to remove Jongseong's jeans and boxers, leaving him naked, a new layer of vulnerability settles over the room. He sits before you bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light, his silhouette outlined in the darkness.

His beauty, illuminated by the faint light, is both captivating and heartbreaking. The familiarity of his form, once etched in your memory, now lays before you in the flesh, a tangible reminder of the love you still harbour for him. How could you not still love him? He was perfect in every way possible.

"Stay with me," he whispers, his voice a gentle plea as his hands begin to roam your sides, tracing the contours of your body beneath your shirt. Each touch ignites a flurry of sensations within you, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

He pulls you onto his lap, your sweatpants becoming the barrier between his cock and your pussy. Yet, none of you are really thinking about that right now, all you both want is to hold one another again.

“Jongseong, we broke up, and for good reason,” you rationalise with not only him but yourself as you find yourself sinking into his touch as his hands roam your back.

Nuzzling his nose against yours, he begins to cry softly again, his face rubbing itself against yours as his tears transfer from his cheeks to yours, “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he mumbles as his lips ghost over yours. 

He doesn’t just mean tonight, he means forever. A tear from your eye cascades down your face, getting lost in the mixture of his, your empathy for him overwhelming you because you feel the same way he does. You need him in every way, you need to be close to him, to feel his heart beating in synch with yours once again.

But you know better than this. You’re both just prolonging heartache if you succumb to being with him again. You can’t give each other what you need.

“Baby, don’t do this,” you beg him, knowing that he has the power to pull you back into his life with the click of his fingers, that resolve you have worked so hard to build up now hangs in the balance, “Let me get you changed and then into bed, yeah?”

Reasoning with him is a lost cause, his arms now hugging you tightly like before as he ignores your suggestion. The last thing he wants is to put on those boxers because he knows when he does that you’ll leave. 

"Please, Princess," his voice is raw with emotion, his desperation palpable in the air between you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the depth of his longing mirrored in your own. 

His plea hangs in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on your already burdened heart. You feel torn between the overwhelming desire to give in to his request and the harsh reality of the situation.

With a deep breath, you summon the strength to gently extricate yourself from his embrace, feeling the weight of his disappointment lingering in the air. His hurt expression tugs at your heartstrings, but you shake your head firmly, "Just tonight, okay?" you assure him, your voice soft but resolute.

Curse you and your heart that caves into his pleas so easily.

You disregard getting him dressed and instead, remove your sweatpants and replace them with those very boxers you planned to adorn him with and swap out your t-shirt for the one on your old pillow. Jongseong clumsily climbs into his covers, getting comfortable and finding some happiness in the fact that you’ll be in his arms at least for a little while. 

Once you climb into your side of the bed, he instinctively hugs you from behind, the comfort of your body pressed against his. He spoons you, tucking his face in your neck as he exhales in contentment. This is all he has been craving since that night you left and he couldn’t be happier. All the turmoil and anguish from earlier slowly depletes as he finds himself sinking into a much-needed sleep.

You can’t deny you feel the same, his arms wrapped around you feel like home, like you’ve been on a seven-month business trip and you’re now finally back where you belong. You sink into him further, relishing his skin against yours.

“Happy birthday, Jjongie,” you whisper, bringing his hand up to kiss it before intertwining your fingers with his.

_____

Waking up, Jongseong feels like his whole body has crashed into a brick wall. His bones ache and his head feels tight, but there is a weight that feels so familiar yet foreign, his legs tangled around something and his arms holding it close. This feels different from the t-shirt of yours he clings to every night, this has more substance.

Please don’t be some random girl he thinks to himself, scared to open his eyes. 

Even if he did want to open them he couldn’t because they are being held together so tight by something. Was he crying last night? Actually, what even happened last night?

He replays the fragments of the evening in his mind, a few scattered images begin to surface - Jake and Sunghoon dragging him to Haven, the raucous atmosphere of the bar, and the ill-advised decision to ride the mechanical bull. And then nothing.

As he tries to recounter the night, you see him attempt to pry his eyes open and decide to help him out. Swiping your thumb over his eyes, you wipe away the mix of his dried-in tears and sleep. He looks so confused when you touch him and his body tenses.

Either he is having a severe case of hallucinations to the point where he is starting to physically feel you or the girl that he took home last night resembles your touch. God, how he hoped it was the first one. 

Opening his eyes with your help, he blinks away the blur and sets his eyes on your face, his expression reading one of relief that quickly turns into astonishment.

“Y/N? Baby?” he whispers, his hands instinctively reaching for your cheek, “Please be real.” The same words he pleaded out last night leave his lips again. Jongseong has spent so many nights dreaming of you, wishing in an alternative universe that he can hold you again, so much so that this doesn’t feel real.

You don’t know what to say but obviously, you have to say something. It was one thing to confront drunk Jongseong who didn’t have a wit about him but now it feels like there’s a boulder on your chest as you try to conjure up the courage to speak to a sober, semi-alert Jongseong. 

All you can do is nod, no words escaping your dried lips. You look down to see you and his limbs mangled together just like they used to be, the feeling of his body pressed so tightly against yours almost feels like heaven.

He takes in the sight of you, the lines of disbelief on his features soften, replaced by a glimmer of hope. Slowly, almost tentatively, he reaches out to you, his fingers brushing against your cheek as if to confirm your presence.

The touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, he’s caressing your cheek so tenderly it reminds you of the time you had the shift from hell and Jongseong held you the whole night, whispering sweet words into your ear and stroking your tears away, just like this.

Except there are no tears this time, you’re all cried out - months of mourning the loss of your relationship will do that to you.

As Jongseong's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passes through them, followed by a wave of embarrassment. His voice is soft as he speaks, a hint of uncertainty lacing his words, "What are you doing here?" he asks, his tone laden with confusion.

"You got pretty drunk last night," understatement "And Jake asked me to come pick you up."

You can feel the tension in the air as Jongseong processes your words, his expression a mixture of shame and regret, "Sorry, I don't usually drink that much," he murmurs, his voice tinged with remorse.

The explanation stings, not because Jongseong has been drinking more, but because of the distance it creates between you. It's as if he's explaining himself to a stranger, rather than to the person who once knew him better than anyone else. The past six years you’ve known how he knows his limit and that he doesn’t tend to breach it, not subconsciously. 

All you do is nod, accepting his explanation as you slowly start to detangle yourself from him, “I better get going.”

“Y/N, please let's talk,” he pleads as his voice wavers, his grip tightening around your waist, and his desperation palpable as he pleads for your attention. But you've made up your mind, and no amount of persuasion can sway you from the path you've chosen.

"Jongseong, please, let's not do this," you implore, your voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve, "We're only going to hurt ourselves again."

You both know the reasons behind your breakup are deeply rooted, immutable truths that cannot be changed. It's not a matter of cheating or petty disagreements—this is about fundamental differences in desires and aspirations for the future.

But Jongseong refuses to accept defeat, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he breathes his love out, "Princess, we can work it out, I know we can," he insists, his words heavy with sincerity.

You steel yourself against the onslaught of his love, knowing that to give in would only prolong the inevitable pain, "We want different things, Jjongie," you remind him gently, your voice tinged with regret.

“I can do without them. It’s you I can’t live without…I can’t breathe without you here by my side.” His words are sincere and you know it, but you can’t accept it. When you both discussed your future, he looked so excited at the prospect of kids that your heart broke instantly. You knew right away that you couldn’t give him what he wanted most.

Closing your eyes and sucking in the bottom of your cheeks, you steady yourself to have this conversation yet again, “You can’t give up the idea of having kids. Having the life you want is much more important than me. You can find someone who can give you that.”

It hurts to say but you need to rip the bandaid off quickly. 

“You think I want that life with anyone but you?” His voice raises lightly, hinting at the anger rising into his chest. He needs you to listen to him, to understand him, “Y/N, if it’s not with you then I don’t want that life.”

Shaking your head determinedly, you sit up, “But I can’t give you that life, it’s not what I want.” You feel like you’re reliving the argument that ended it all those months ago.

“That’s okay.”

“No, It’s not,” It’s your turn to get angry, your eyebrows lacing together as you try to read him. How can he say all of this so easily? Like he wasn’t trying to promise you that he would change his entire life plan just to be with you. Is it romantic? Sure, but it’s also fucking stupid. No one should change just to keep someone they love because if they were meant to be, then their values would align…right?

"It's not that simple, Jongseong," you argue through the silence, your voice tinged with frustration, "You can't just sweep aside your dreams for the sake of our relationship. What about what you want? What about your own happiness?"

Jongseong sits up, the covers hiding his naked lower half; he hadn’t realised he was naked and it only adds a new layer to his vulnerability. He is laying himself bare to you.

But Jongseong's gaze remains unwavering, his determination evident in the set of his jaw, "Since we broke up, I've realised that you are the life I want," he declares, his words carrying the weight of his conviction, "Whatever that looks like for you, I want it."

You feel his words like a pickaxe, slowly breaking away at the wall you’ve spent months building around your heart and reason. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions sweeps over you. On one hand, his declaration of love sparks a glimmer of hope amidst the ruins of your fractured relationship. Yet, on the other hand, doubt claws at your insides, gnawing away at any semblance of certainty, the pure love that you have for him only wishes to make sure he’s happy and gets everything he wants in life.

"Jongseong, I..." you start, your voice wavering as you grapple with the turmoil inside. How do you express the depth of your feelings?

Grabbing your face with his large hands, he kisses you, his soft lips now coating yours. You’ve missed him so much that you become overwhelmed by his actions, a soft tear leaking from your ducts.

So much for being all cried out, you think to yourself.

"It's you, Y/N, I only need you," Jongseong whispers against your lips, his urgency evident as he seeks solace in the warmth of your embrace, stealing kisses with a hunger born from longing.

In spite of yourself, you find your lips responding to his touch, drawn in by the familiar sensation of his mouth against yours. Your arms instinctively wrap around him, fingers grazing lightly over the muscles of his back as you hold him close; your brain is telling you to push him away but your heart is pulling him tighter to you. 

"It's not fair to you, Jjongie," you murmur, the words weighted with a sense of guilt and remorse.

"I'd rather be with you happily than with kids and someone else miserably," Jongseong confesses, his words carrying the weight of his heart's deepest desires.

Jongseong wishes you could see it from his point of view; of course, he has wanted kids and a comfortable life for so long but the idea of achieving that when you are not his wife seems fucking ridiculous. There is no one in this world he wants to be with other than you and if that means he has to be an uncle rather than a dad, so be it.

You are all he has ever wanted. To grow old with you, to experience each of your accomplishments together and have you close to him. He wants to protect you and look after you the way he knows he should and that is his new life goal. This isn’t a decision he has made lightly but a decision he wanted to make.

His hands glide down your sides, trailing over your thighs as his kisses continue, each touch a manifestation of the craving that has consumed him. His need for you is overwhelming, every fibre of his being yearning for you in every possible way. Another moment without you feels unbearable, as if he might die.

You surrender to his touch, sinking back onto the bed as he hovers above you, his grip on your thighs firm yet tender. The intensity of his desire leaves marks, but in this moment, you welcome anything he offers.

It's astonishing how the feel of his lips on yours dismantles your resolve, scattering your apprehensions like leaves in the wind.

Slowly, he removes from you the t-shirt that has absorbed his tears on countless nights and the boxers you borrowed from him, leaving you exposed beneath him. As he looks upon your naked figure, his eyes drink in every curve and contour, offering silent gratitude to the heavens for letting him have you like this. You are everything he wants and more.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he whispers into your mouth as he presses his body hard against yours, his member rubbing itself against your folds. 

The feeling of him rubbing against you is enough to elicit a moan. No amount of toys was enough to satisfy you, not the way Jongseong could. Over the years you learned about one another’s bodies so intimately that no one could ever know you the way he does, not even yourself. 

You couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping with someone else, even if you and Jongseong had broken up, your heart couldn’t do it. You never even considered a one night stand because deep down you knew that your body belonged to Jongseong and no one else.

He moves his hips, slowly rubbing himself against you, the bell of his cock grazing your clit teasingly. It feels like a dream for him to touch you this way again, and the fact that you were coating his cock with your wetness was enough to tell him that you need this too.

Kissing you desperately, his tongue darts into your mouth and swirls with yours as he seeks to taste you, his buds dancing along with yours. He moans into your mouth and acts as an echo of his love for you.

“I missed you so much,” he whispers as his hips continue to move slowly, teasing your hole with his tip each time he draws back. It’s becoming increasingly obvious how much it’s starting to irritate you, your need to have him inside you is evident in your whines of frustration.

"I missed you too, baby. More than anything," you confess, your hand finding his cock as you press against him, seeking to create greater friction between you. With each movement, the pressure builds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you.

With each synchronised movement, the tension between you mounts, the desire for one another lingering in the warm air. His hips continue their slow, teasing rhythm, each brush against your core sending sparks of want up your heat and into your chest.

Feeling the urgency building within you, you guide his cock with precision, pressing it against your eager entrance. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the head of his length dip into you only slightly, the anticipation of being filled with him heightening your senses.

"Please," you whisper, your voice laden with need and longing, a plea for him to take you.

With a teasing grin, Jongseong relents to your plea, but not in the way you expected. Instead of thrusting into you the way you want him to, he trails his fingertips along the curves of your body, igniting a trail of fire in his wake. His touch is light and tantalising, tracing patterns across your skin as he savours every moment. He wants to take his time with you, no matter how much his dick longs to be surrounded by your walls.

You like to be teased even for a little bit, the payoff at the end always hits the right spot.

You squirm beneath his touch, aching for more, but he continues with deliberate slowness. His fingers dance over your heated flesh, exploring every inch of your body with an intimacy that leaves you breathless. Each caress sends shivers down your spine, building the anticipation to unbearable heights. God, you missed his hands all over you.

As his right hand dips lower, he begins tracing circles around your sensitive clit and you can't help but arch your back in pleasure, a soft moan escaping your lips. The sensation is electrifying, sending waves coursing through your body as he expertly teases you.

Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, his touch becomes more urgent as he presses his fingers against your throbbing clit h and with practised skill, he begins to move faster, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you writhing beneath him.

“You look so fucking perfect, all desperate and whiney like this, Princess,” he says as he leans down to kiss you, breathing in deeply through his nose as he tries to fill each of his senses with you. It wasn’t just enough to feel you, he wanted to taste you, to inhale your scent, to hear you cry out for him, to see you unravel beneath him.

Your breath catches in your throat as the intensity of his touch sends you spiralling towards the edge of bliss. Each stroke of his fingers drives you closer to the brink, your body humming with the need to let go.

But just as you feel yourself teetering on the edge, Jongseong suddenly slows his movements, drawing out the pleasure with agonising slowness. It's a torturous tease, the brief moments of intensity followed by long, drawn-out strokes that leave you gasping for more.

“Please, please, please, Jjongie,” you whimper in frustration, your body aching for release as Jongseong continues to play you like a symphony, alternating between fast and slow, building the tension to unbearable levels. Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he finally gives in, his fingers dipping into your heat and thrusting into you at a rough pace, your pussy soaking his digits as he coaxes out your orgasm.

“You’re clamping down on my fingers so hard, Baby, you gonna cum?” he asks arrogantly, knowing that with each curl of his finger, he is watching your body lose control and surrender to him.

Nodding quickly, you pull him down for a long, searing kiss as his thumb joins the party and flicks your clit rapidly, “Oh my god,” you moan out into his mouth through bated breaths, “I’m gonna cum, Jongseong, please can I cum?”

“You never have to ask baby,” he moves his mouth to your ear and lightly nibbles your lobe, “Cum for me, Princess,” he gently commands.

Jongseong continues to work his magic, his fingers moving with expert precision as he guides you through the throes of ecstasy. Your vision blurs and every nerve in your body hums with pleasure as you reach the pinnacle of bliss.

With a final, desperate cry, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You arch your back and cry out his name as pleasure consumes you, your body trembling with the intensity of it all.

His fingers remain still inside you, but his thumb maintains its relentless pace, each swipe sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hips instinctively twitch in response, your nub throbbing with sensitivity and yearning for a respite. Yet, Jongseong shows no signs of letting up, his determined flicking only intensifying.

"You like that, baby?" Jongseong's voice is hoarse with desire as he intently watches your reactions. His eyes are dark with need as he continues to work you with wild desire. 

Your senses are overwhelmed by sensations pouring through you, so you can only respond with a gasping nod. Every single nerve in your body is buzzing with ecstasy, and all you can think of is the delicious agony of his thumb against your delicate clit.

"Tell me what you want, Princess," he asks, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear, "Do you want more?"

You can only make a frantic plea, your words barely comprehensible in the middle of intense pleasure. "Yes, please, Jongseong... More..."

Jongseong's lips curl into a wicked grin as he hears your plea, his confidence growing with each breathless gasp that escapes your lips. With a teasing twinkle in his eye, he moves his fingers again, pressing them against your contracting walls, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he speaks.

"What do you want, Y/N?" he whispers, his voice dripping with anticipation, "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."

Your mind is a haze of desire, but amidst the fog, one thought stands out clear and demanding. You need him inside you, filling you completely with his presence. With trembling hands, you reach for him, your fingers curling around his cock, guiding him to where you need him most, pushing his hand out of the way.

"I want you," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "I want all of you, Jongseong." When you utter the words, there’s a deeper meaning to them, a meaning that Jongseong is clinging to.

The way your fingers wrap around his rock-hard member elicits a hiss from him, your touch mixed with your words only fuels him to give you everything you need. 

Jongseong lets out a guttural groan, entirely surrendering to your touch and words. His eyes darken with want as he watches you take control, and his breath quickens with anticipation as you guide him inside you. His breath coming in ragged gasps, he looks into your eyes with a mixture of desire and adoration, "God, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice rough with need, “You feel so fucking incredible. I’ve missed how you just suck me in like this.”

You look down and watch as his entire length gets lost in your heat, his cock’s head hitting deep within you. You’ve missed how he fills you up so much but you hadn’t realised just how badly until right now as he shallowly thrusts into you.

You respond with a low moan of pleasure, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, urging him to go deeper. "Yes, Jongseong," you whisper, your voice laced with longing, "just like that. I need this so much, I need you."

With each thrust, he grunts in response, his movements becoming more desperate as he seeks to satisfy your every desire, "I'm yours, Y/N," he declares, his voice filled with raw emotion, "completely and utterly yours."

As he lifts your legs and closes them, gently draping them over his left shoulder, your warmth envelops his shaft, drawing him in closer. Jongseong relishes the sensation of your tightness, revelling in the snug embrace of your canal around him. And you too find delight in the pressure of his girth, relishing the way he stretches you further with every powerful thrust.

Each movement of his hips is deliberate, each one designed to bring you both closer to the edge of ecstasy. As his hands stroke your legs tenderly, contrasting with the intensity of his thrusts, you find yourself lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving as one.

His jerks grow more intense, the pace quickening as he drives deeper into you, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, "You feel so good," he groans, his voice filled with unrestrained passion, "so fucking perfect for me, Princess."

In response, you curve your back and meet his thrusts with equal conviction, the heat between you building to an almost euphoric level. "Jongseong," you exclaim, your voice a symphony of fulfilment, "don't stop, please don't stop."

Jongseong intensifies his efforts with a wild growl, each movement driven by a burning need to push you to the edge of satisfaction and beyond. At this moment, there is only you and him, burned by the fires of passion.

With a swift motion, your lover bends you in half, positioning your legs by your head as he quickens his already rapid pace. Lost in a whirlwind of desire, your eyes roll back and your hands instinctively grip his shoulders, your chest heaving with each forceful thrust of his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving marks on his shoulder blades as you cling to him, lost in the intensity of the moment.

Feeling the sting of your nails, he grits his teeth and strains his neck, the veins in his temples pulsating as he fights the overwhelming urge to release inside you right then and there.

“Fuck, claw my back, Baby,” he growls, his voice thick with desire, “make me yours again.” With determination, he continues to pound into you, each movement bringing you closer to your shared orgasm.

After hearing Jongseong’s go-ahead, you dig into his back, dragging your nails across his skin, leaving fiery red lines in their wake, just like he wants. It burns him in the most delectable way, making his cock throb inside of you.

Your breaths combine in the air, creating an ensemble of desire as you both reach the edge. The tension between you grows with each thrust, a crescendo of want reaching its peak.

As he slams into you furiously, his voice fills the room with urgency, "You gonna cum again, Princess? You want it?" His words are a mixture of want and domination, starting a fire inside you that threatens to consume everything in its path.

With a firm nod, you meet his gaze, your eyes brimming with want. "Yes, Jongseong, please," you beg, your voice a frantic appeal for release once again.

In response, he increases his efforts, his motions growing more frenzied as he propels you both to your orgasms. And then, with a final, strong thrust, you shatter, your body convulsing from the ferocity of your release. Jongseong follows closely behind, his own climax mirroring yours as he finds release within you, “Fuck!” 

His body stills as he shoots his seed into you, the tremble of both your bodies vibrates the bed beneath you. Finding it hard to keep himself up, he falls onto you, moving his cock into you further, only drawing out a final moan from your lips.

After a couple of minutes, Jongseong rolls over, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. God, he missed the way you feel under him, he could go another ten rounds if you asked. 

But that would mean you would stay, and is that even something you want? He doesn’t want to ask, your answer being the deciding factor of whether he goes on his life with misery or happiness.

He knows he can’t force you into this relationship but he hopes he has done enough to convince you that you are all he wants.

“Please be with me again, Y/N. I can’t live without you,” he whispers into the air, not daring to look at you.

You on the other hand only want to look at him, to see if you can really try this again, “Even if it means no kids? No playdates with other parents? No family trips to Jeju?”

“Even without all that.” He does look sincere, his eyes now burning into yours with a new lease of determination.

The truth is, you’ve missed him so much that it hurts. Behind the strong facade is just a girl who misses her lover. Being without him is like being in a fire with no escape, constantly fighting your way out of a blaze while your lungs collapse. He’s the clear path to fresh air you desperately need, there is no denying it. And clearly, he thinks the same about you. 

Seeing him last night so fragile and broken engulfed you in the flames, burning you alive because you know that you feel every ounce of hurt that he is. It was a mirror to how you were feeling and you don’t think you knew how badly you needed him until that moment. You were trying to be so strong about it all, giving yourself only a short amount of time to grieve that as you looked at Jongseong last night, you know he has done the same.

You need one another to extinguish the fire.

“Jongseong, truly think about this, this isn’t me saying no to letting you go on a lads holiday, I’m denying you the opportunity to be a father,” you plead with him one last time, giving him an out to all of this as you lay it all on the table.

“Princess, I have had seven months to think about it. I am not compromising or altering my needs for you, this is a decision that I have made on my own. If I truly wanted the life I thought I did, I wouldn’t be begging you to be with me right now. I know this isn’t an easy choice but I have never been more sure about anything in my life.” 

Jongseong kisses all over your face, each one a receipt of his sincerity.

His words strike straight into your heart. He’s serious. A part of you wants to still feel guilty like you’re forcing him into this but on the other hand, he’s right. You’ve given him a multitude of opportunities to leave and find a girl who will cater to him, but he hasn’t. 

He doesn’t need to because all he needs is you and your love, to Jongseong, that is all he needs in his life.

“Okay, but if you ever change your min-”

He interjects with a kiss, one filled with so much happiness and love that it’s almost intoxicating; either that or all the booze in his system has transferred its way into your bloodstream. 

You giggle as he rolls over on top of you again, peppering loud and wet kisses all over your face and neck akin to a dog licking you from utter joy. Your hands try to fight him off playfully, your laugh growing louder as he nuzzles into your neck.

“Oh, wait!” Your lover's sudden pause catches your attention, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he swiftly rolls off the bed and rushes over to the messy pile on the chair by his dresser.

Curious, you crane your neck to see what he's up to, watching as he retrieves something from the floor.

“What is it?” you inquire, intrigued by his enthusiasm.

Turning back to you, Jongseong holds up the familiar torn sheet of paper that you recognise instantly, his smile lighting up his face. He grabs a pen from the desk and returns to your side, handing you both items.

“Tick it off,” he urges, pointing to the bottom of the page where a new addition was made yesterday morning. Despite his internal conflict about the list, he couldn't bring himself to tear it up. If he never saw you again, this would be a precious memory to hold onto.

So he added a new aspiration at the bottom.

Taking the pen from his hand, you read it slowly, “Make Y/N mine again..”

You gaze up at him in awe, understanding the significance of this gesture and how much the list means to him, “You wished for this?” you ask, to which he simply nods at your question, “Then you need to tick it off.” You push the pen and paper back to him but he stops you.

“No, you made the wish come true, so you need to tick it off,” he replies, the corners of his lips upturning slightly.

So with the pen, you draw a line over the words, scoring it off once and for all as you beam proudly, happy that both of your souls are now joined together again. You pull him in for a long, deep kiss, the bucket list discarded as you lose yourselves in the moment once again.

[marvyu]

MIDNIGHT INK

pairings. jungkook x female reader genre(s). smut,fluff

summary. a faded tattoo marks your heartbreak. desperate for a fresh start, you visit Jungkook, a trusted tattoo artist and secret confidant you secretly love.

warnings. explicit language, sexual themes, past relationships, heartbreak, and emotional healing, swearing, unprotected sex, lots of kissing, oral sex, missionary position, and implied consensual rough sex.

sitting on your bed, you watched your reflection in the mirror, your fingers tracing the outline of the faded tattoo on your lower back. once a symbol of love, it had become a haunting reminder of heartbreak. you needed to rid yourself of it, something to signify a fresh start.

finally, you picked up your phone from the desk and called the one person you trusted implicitly.

"hello?"

"hey, before you leave, can i get a quick one done on my lower back?" you asked hesitantly. "trying to get a cover-up."

"yeah, sure, be here by eleven-thirty, okay?"

"alright, cool, thanks." you stayed silent for a minute, hoping he'd say more, but the call ended abruptly.

glancing at the clock, your eyes widened. it was 11:20. with a groan, you grabbed your keys and rushed out. the tattoo shop was only five minutes from your home, but october's chill and early darkness made the journey feel longer.

despite the recent breakup with your boyfriend, you always found yourself returning to him—jungkook. he was the man you confided in, sharing all your problems, including tales of your toxic relationship. though he listened, sometimes distant, you sensed he disliked hearing about your ex. yet, he was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on; truth be told, he was the reason you frequented the tattoo shop.

upon arrival, the sign's lights flickered at the entrance. taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open. jungkook looked up from his station, his sleeves rolled up, revealing his tattoo-covered arms. his dark, intense gaze swept over you, making your heart flutter.

"hey," he greeted, a slow smile spreading. "ready?"

you nodded, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. "yeah, thanks for staying late."

"no problem," he replied, his voice low and soothing. he gestured to the tattoo chair. "take a seat. let's see what we're working with."

as you settled into the chair, a mix of nerves and excitement coursed through you. jungkook moved with practised ease, gathering his tools and preparing the area.

"alright, let's take a look," he said calmly, lifting the back of your hoodie. his fingers brushed against your skin, lingering longer than necessary, sending a shiver down your spine.

jungkook's gaze flickered to yours, a hint of desire in his eyes before he focused back on your skin. "15th of… december… 2023," he murmured, staring at your tattoo.

embarrassed, you leaned your head against the seat. "yeah, that's when we started dating."

he hummed in response, studying the faded tattoo. "this will be a great cover-up. do you have a design in mind, or want me to freestyle something?"

"i trust you," you whispered. "just something that represents a new beginning."

jungkook nodded, his expression serious and thoughtful. "got it. i'll sketch something out quickly."

you watched as he worked, his hands moving swiftly and confidently. the room was filled with the soft hum of the neon sign outside and the quiet scratch of his pencil on paper. after a few minutes, he held up the sketch for you to see.

"how about this?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for approval.

the design was beautiful—delicate yet bold, perfectly capturing what you wanted. "it's perfect," you grinned.

"glad you like it. let's get started," he smiled.

he carefully transferred the design onto your skin, his touch sending another shiver through you. "ready?" he asked, his voice a low murmur that sent heat pooling in your stomach.

you nodded, unable to find your voice. the first touch of the needle was sharp but bearable. the pain quickly faded into the background, overshadowed by the sensation of jungkook's hands on your skin. each touch, each brush of his fingers, felt amplified in the intimate quiet of the shop.

jungkook worked with steady precision, his eyes never leaving your skin. "you're doing great," he murmured, his breath warm against your back. "just a little longer."

you tried to focus on the rhythm of his work, but your mind kept drifting to the closeness of his body and his hands' warmth. the tension between you was palpable, each minute passing in a haze of anticipation and desire. his fingers occasionally brushed against your skin in a way that felt more intentional than accidental, sending waves of heat coursing through you.

as the tattoo session continued, you found yourself mesmerized by the sensation of his touch. the combination of the late hour, the dim lighting, and the intimate nature of the session made every moment feel charged with electricity. you could feel the heat of his body close to yours, the soft brush of his breath on your skin.

"how does it feel?" he asked softly, his voice a soothing balm with a dark, underlying current.

"it's… it's good," you managed to reply, your voice shaking slightly. "thank you, jungkook."

he smiled, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "almost done. just hang in there."

the final strokes of the tattoo machine were almost a relief, though you couldn't deny the pang of disappointment at the thought of his touch ending. when he finally finished, jungkook leaned back to admire his work, his expression of satisfaction mixed with something deeper.

"all done," he said softly. "take a look."

you stood up and walked to the mirror, turning to see the new tattoo on your lower back. it was beautiful, a perfect cover-up that transformed an old regret into something new and meaningful.

"wow," you said, your voice filled with genuine awe. "i love it."

he stepped closer, his gaze intense and dark with unspoken desire. "i'm glad you like it," he said.

for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. it was just the two of you, standing in the quiet, dimly lit shop, the air thick with unspoken feelings and charged with undeniable tension.

"thank you," you whispered, your eyes locking with his.

jungkook's hand brushed against your cheek, and your heart skipped a beat. his touch was gentle yet firm, his eyes burning with an intensity that made your breath catch. "you're welcome," he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "anytime."

as you stared into each other's eyes, the air between you seemed to crackle with electricity, the line between professional and personal blurring beyond recognition. the tension was almost unbearable, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, craving more.

jungkook's fingers trailed down your cheek to your neck, his touch igniting a fire within you. "you know," he said softly, his lips just inches from yours, "i've always been here for you. and i always will be."

his hand lingered on your neck, his thumb gently brushing your jawline as he stared into your eyes. the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine, and the air between you crackled with unspoken desire. you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat echoing the growing tension in the room.

"you have no idea how long i've wanted this," he whispered, his voice husky and filled with longing.

your breath hitched, and you leaned in closer without thinking, your lips just a breath away from his. the anticipation was almost unbearable, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body, drawing you in.

unable to resist any longer, you closed the distance, pressing your lips to his in a tentative kiss. jungkook responded immediately, his lips soft yet insistent against yours. the kiss deepened slowly, fueled by the weeks of suppressed desire and the intimate setting of the tattoo shop. his hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss further. the sensation was electric, sending waves of heat coursing through your body.

your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt. the sensation of his heartbeat under your palm matched the frantic pace of your own. every touch, every movement was charged, making your skin tingle with anticipation.

jungkook broke the kiss, his breath ragged as he trailed kisses down your neck. "god, i've wanted this for so long," he murmured against your skin, his hands roaming over your back, tracing the newly inked tattoo.

you let out a soft moan, arching into his touch. "me too," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "i've wanted you for so long."

he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and filled with desire as he looked at you. "then let's not waste any more time," he said, his voice a low growl.

with a swift movement, he lifted you onto the tattoo chair, positioning himself between your legs. the cool leather against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat building between you. jungkook's hands slid under your hoodie, pushing it up to reveal more of your skin. he kissed a trail down your collarbone, his fingers deftly undoing the clasp of your bra.

your breath hitched as he pulled the bra away, his lips capturing one of your nipples in a hot, wet kiss. you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he lavished attention on your breasts, his hands kneading the soft flesh.

"jungkook," you moaned, the sound of his name a desperate plea on your lips.

he responded by kissing his way back up to your mouth, his tongue parting your lips as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. the kiss was deep and fervent, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips when they parted. his hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and dip, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

you could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, and the sensation only heightened your own desire. with a trembling hand, you reached down, palming him through his jeans. he let out a low groan, the sound vibrating through you and making you even wetter.

"need you," you gasped against his lips, your voice breathless with need.

jungkook pulled back just enough to tug off his shirt, revealing the expanse of tattoos that decorated his chest and arms. you couldn't help but run your hands over his skin, tracing the lines of ink with your fingers.

he made quick work of your clothes, stripping you bare before him. the cool air against your heated skin made you shiver, but the look in jungkook's eyes sent a new wave of warmth through you. he kissed you again, his hands exploring your body with a fervent intensity.

his fingers found their way between your legs, sliding through your wetness with practiced ease. you gasped, bucking into his hand as he teased your entrance.

"you're so wet for me," he murmured against your ear, his breath hot and tantalizing. "i want to taste you."

before you could respond, he knelt between your thighs, his tongue darting out to taste you. the sensation was overwhelming, and you cried out, your hands gripping the edges of the tattoo chair as he licked and sucked at your most sensitive spots.

jungkook's tongue moved with expert precision, driving you closer and closer to the edge. just as you felt the first tremors of your orgasm, he pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal.

"i want you to come with me inside you," he said, his voice rough with desire.

you nodded, too breathless to speak, and he quickly shed the rest of his clothes. the sight of him, fully naked and aroused, made your mouth water. he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locking with yours as he slowly pushed inside.

the sensation of him filling you was indescribable, a perfect mix of pleasure and pressure. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper as he began to move. each thrust was deliberate and powerful, driving you closer to the edge with each stroke.

jungkook's hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he moved faster, his breath hot against your neck. "you're mine," he growled, his voice filled with possessive desire.

"yes," you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. "i'm yours."

the words seemed to spur him on, and he increased his pace, driving into you with an almost desperate intensity. your orgasm built rapidly, a tight coil of pleasure that finally snapped, sending you over the edge with a cry of his name.

jungkook followed you over the edge, his own release shuddering through him as he buried himself deep inside you. he collapsed against you, both of you breathing heavily as the aftershocks of your orgasms coursed through you.

for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. it was just the two of you, tangled together in the quiet, dimly lit shop, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

"that was…" you began, but trailed off, unable to find the words.

"amazing," jungkook finished for you, his lips curling into a satisfied smile.

you nodded, a matching smile spreading across your face. "yeah. amazing."

jungkook pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. "i told you," he murmured, his voice soft and tender. "i'll always be here for you."

you nestled closer to him, savouring the warmth of his body against yours. "and i'll always be here for you," you whispered back, feeling a profound sense of connection and contentment.

jungkook pulled back slightly, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "we should get cleaned up," he said, but made no move to let you go. instead, he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and affectionate.

you smiled, leaning into his touch. "yeah, but maybe we can stay like this for just a little longer," you suggested, not ready to break the intimate cocoon that had enveloped you both.

he chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. "i like the sound of that."

the two of you lay there for a while, wrapped up in each other's arms, the quiet of the tattoo shop providing a serene backdrop to your tender moment. the reality of the outside world seemed distant and unimportant compared to the warmth and closeness you shared.

eventually, jungkook sighed and pulled away, albeit reluctantly. "as much as i'd love to stay here with you forever, we should clean up and get you home."

you nodded, understanding the practicality of his words even though you wished the moment could last longer. "okay."

jungkook helped you off the tattoo chair, both of you moving slowly, savoring the lingering touches and stolen kisses as you gathered your clothes. he was gentle as he helped you dress, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that made you want to pull him back into your embrace.

once you were both dressed, jungkook guided you to the small bathroom at the back of the shop. he wet a cloth and began to gently clean the areas of your body that still tingled from his touch. the intimacy of the moment, even in such a simple act, made your heart swell with affection.

"thank you," you said softly, your voice filled with sincerity. "for everything."

he smiled, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made you feel cherished. "anytime, y/n."

with a final, lingering kiss, jungkook finished cleaning up and walked you to the door. the cool night air was a stark contrast to the warmth you felt inside, but you didn't mind. you knew that the bond you had forged tonight was something special, something that would stay with you long after you left the shop.

as you stepped outside, jungkook held your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "call me when you get home, okay? i want to make sure you're safe."

you nodded, squeezing his hand in return. "i will."

he watched as you walked away, his figure a comforting presence behind you. as you made your way home, you felt a sense of peace and fulfilment that you hadn't felt in a long time. the night had been more than just a tattoo session—it had been a new beginning, a step towards a future filled with promise and love.

later that night, as you settled into bed, your mind was filled with thoughts of jungkook, completely forgetting he was waiting for your call.

the intimacy you shared, the way he looked at you, the feeling of his hands on your skin—it all replayed in your mind like a beautiful dream. just as you were about to drift off to sleep, your phone rang, breaking the silence of the room. the screen displayed jungkook's name, and your heart skipped a beat.

you answered the call, trying to keep your voice steady. "hey,"

"hey," he replied, his voice warm and soothing. "i just wanted to make sure you got home safely."

"i did," you said, feeling a rush of warmth at his concern. "thank you for checking."

there was a brief silence, filled with the unspoken feelings hanging between you. finally, jungkook broke the silence. "i can't stop thinking about tonight, about you, y/n."

"me too," you admitted, your voice soft. "thanks for the special treatment."

"it was special," jungkook agreed. "i've wanted to tell you how i feel for so long, but i didn't know if you felt the same way."

"i do," you whispered, your heart pounding. "i feel the same way, jungkook."

he let out a relieved sigh, and you could hear the smile in his voice. "i'm glad to hear that. how about we make this official? can i take you out to dinner tomorrow night?"

your face broke into a wide smile, your excitement bubbling over. "i'd love that."

"great," jungkook said, his voice filled with warmth. "i'll pick you up at seven. sweet dreams, y/n."

"sweet dreams, jungkook," you replied, ending the call with a smile.

the next day was a blur of anticipation and excitement. as the evening approached, you found yourself carefully selecting an outfit, wanting everything to be perfect. when the clock struck seven, a knock on your door made your heart race.

jungkook stood on the other side, looking effortlessly handsome. he greeted you with a bouquet and a shy, endearing smile. "you look beautiful," he said, his eyes filled with admiration.

"thank you," you replied, feeling your cheeks flush with warmth. "you look great too."

the dinner was perfect. the two of you shared stories, laughter, and tender glances across the table. every moment felt charged with electricity, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing second. after dinner, jungkook took you for a walk in a nearby park. the night was clear, the stars twinkling above as you strolled hand in hand.

as you reached a quiet spot, jungkook turned to face you, his expression serious yet tender. "y/n, i meant what i said last night. i'll always be here for you. i want to be with you if you'll have me."

your heart swelled with emotion, and you nodded, tears of happiness brimming in your eyes. "i want to be with you too, jungkook. more than anything."

he pulled you into a gentle embrace, his lips finding yours in a soft, tender kiss. the world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in your perfect moment.

the weeks that followed were filled with joy and discovery. jungkook became not only your lover but your confidant and best friend. each moment spent together strengthened your bond, and your love grew stronger with each passing day.

you found yourself spending more and more time at jungkook's apartment, where he would cook for you, and you would talk for hours about everything and nothing. the walls that once seemed to contain just his life now felt like a shared space where your love blossomed.

one evening, as you lay in bed together, jungkook traced patterns on your skin, his touch sending shivers through you. "i've been thinking about something," he said, hesitating.

"what is it?" you asked, turning to face him.

"i want us to move in together," he confessed, his eyes searching yours. "i want you to be a part of my everyday life, not just the special moments. what do you think?"

your heart swelled with joy, and you couldn't stop the smile on your face. "i think i'd love that. more than anything."

moving in together felt like the most natural step in your relationship. you merged your lives seamlessly, finding comfort and joy in the little things—cooking together, late-night talks, and lazy sunday mornings.

one evening, while unpacking the last of your things, you came across an old photo album. sitting on the couch, you and jungkook flipped through the pages, laughing at childhood photos and sharing stories from your pasts. it felt intimate and suitable, a testament to how deeply you trusted each other.

jungkook pulled you close, his eyes filled with love and promise. "we've come a long way, haven't we?"

"we have," you agreed, resting your head on his shoulder. "and i wouldn't change a thing."

as the evening wore on, you found yourselves on the balcony, watching the sunset. jungkook wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. "i can't wait to see what the future holds for us," he murmured.

"me too," you replied, your heart full of love and excitement. "with you by my side, i know it will be amazing."

as you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, you felt a deep sense of fulfilment and contentment. the journey began with a simple tattoo, which had transformed into a beautiful love story that would continue to unfold with each passing day.

your past no longer held any power over you; you could embrace a future filled with love, promise, and endless possibilities. together, you and jungkook would face whatever came your way, knowing that your love was strong enough to withstand anything.

as you closed your eyes and leaned into his embrace, you knew this was just the beginning of your happily ever after.

(sorry omg i love this pic sm rn 😭😭😭)

© marvyu 2k24 — please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms: i do not tolerate them at all.

[utterlyotterlyx]

Sweet Creature

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - The bond snaps after a rather brutal breakup, and after witnessing you with another Vanserra, Azriel is trying to find a way to avoid being hurt once again.

Warnings - fluff, angst, pining, swearing, unrequited love, heartbreak, sad Az, happy ending (yay!)

Word count - 8.4k (oops)

Based on this ask

It had become so intense in the House of Wind that you had little to no choice in moving yourself to the River House. Between Nesta and Cassian's bustling sex life and the constant bickering arguments between Azriel and Elain, you decided that you needed some peace.

And fast.

Rhys had welcomed you at the door that day, his sort-of sister in arms surrounded by brown leather bags that he could almost envision you launching down the House of Wind steps just to escape as fast as possible. Flipping him off and smirking at his chuckle, you slipped around his form stood in the doorway and headed right to Nyx who was more than thrilled to see you, babbling incoherently and grabbing for you the moment you were in eyeshot.

"I take it that it's getting a bit loud over there?" Rhys turned to you, his shirt half unbuttoned and hands burrowed into his pockets. He was lucky. To have a mate and a child. To not have to live with the band of animals currently residing in the Night Court's most opulent residence.

"How am I supposed to get anything done wedged between that lot?" Nyx smiled at your cooing, lapping up all of your love and affection, "I'd much rather be here with my favourite prince."

Within minutes, your bags were taken upstairs by Rhys who was grumbling to himself about never being able to have any peace to which you blissfully quipped that you'd be out of his hair the moment he bought you a lavish apartment in the city. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford it after all.

Your position within the Inner Circle was irreplaceable. Not only were you Rhys' childhood best friend, the only one he could truly depend on before Cassian and Azriel flew into the picture, but you were also known as a witch. A powerful celestial being that had the capability to destroy and create as you saw fit with an affinity to sky and water magic.

The scales could have tilted in the wrong direction had you truly taken up Amarantha's offer to be her pet, the only reason you had confined yourself to that chamber Under The Mountain was to make sure that Rhys survived, and you played your part well, just as you always had.

A break was needed, the air in the House of Wind was almost suffocating, and no amount of your power was able to drown it. Elain was spending more time with Lucien, her mate, and Azriel was not happy about it considering that they were meant to be in a committed relationship. The barking insults and shouting had become too much to bare, so intense that your own power was itching for release in order to silence them for at least a couple of minutes.

"They're going to break up, aren't they?" Rhys certainly wouldn't be the first to tell Azriel I told you so, but he'd certainly be thinking it when the Shadowsinger would inevitably return to the River House just like you had to escape the nightmare of his life.

Humming softly, sadly, you looked up at Rhys, your godson in your arms resting his head on your chest, "I think so. Az hasn't been himself lately."

It was true, your friend had become a shell of himself, wallowing in self-loathing and doubt, and you cursed Elain eternally for turning him into such a thing. How anyone could hurt Azriel was beyond your scope of realisation, he was perfect in every way, devoted, kind, caring, and definitely a force to be reckoned with in the bedroom if your ears served you right.

Being attracted to Azriel was a natural bodily response, you had told yourself at least, it was difficult to not want to jump the bones of the illustrious Shadowsinger who kept a watchful eye on your every step. Like he was waiting for his moment to swoop in and save you.

But you had never needed saving, and you never would.

Elain and you had never really gotten along, it wasn't as though you hadn't tried to be friendly with the Made sister, she just couldn't stand to be around you. Maybe her own abilities clashed with yours, perhaps she was terrified of you. You couldn't blame her, the idea of you was one that stalked travellers and gifted nightmares to the young.

A celestial witch. In the flesh.

Anyone who knew you well enough would be able to dispel any wrongful intent, but Elain was not one of those people.

"I did warn him," Rhys' finger drifted to hook itself around Nyx's outstretched hand, and he shook it gently as he continued on, "A mating bond is not something to get entangled with."

"Az needs us to be his friends right now, Rhys. A breakup on its own is awful, but when it's so close, when he's been waiting so long for it, it's bound to hurt."

A firm hand on your shoulder comforted you, you knew how tough it must be for Azriel to go through it, after how painful it was to hold out hoping that he would be enough to suddenly not be, "I know, Witchling," you scoffed at the nickname as you always had and always would, Rhys pressed a dainty kiss into your hair, like a brother to a newly born sister, "Whatever he needs, I'm here, and so are you."

If you had known what awaited you that week, you'd take the telling words back in a second.

Like you had guessed, Azriel moved back into the River House, residing in his own room across the hall from your own. And boy, was he a raincloud if you ever did see one. Even his shadows looked solemn, and they didn't have faces. Azriel looked positively awful, constantly messy hair, large bags of onyx that imprinted onto the skin beneath his usually warm hazel eyes that had turned into nothing but dark pools of heartbroken sadness.

In the night, you had heard him crying, you'd stood outside of his door, not saying a word, but hoping that he knew that someone was there for him even if he didn't want them to be.

You had tried to talk to him, to coax him out of his haze by offering to train with him, or walk with him along the banks of the Sidra, you'd even asked him if beating your ass whilst you wore a mask of Lucien would bring a smile to his face. Unfortunately, everything you had tried had failed you, and you were at a loss as to help your friend.

"Honestly Rhys, how do you reach anything in here?" Rhys was hovering in the doorway, eyebrow raised with delight as he watched you try and scale the countertops to reach the top shelf of the cupboard.

There were chocolate chips for your cookies up there, and they had your name all over them.

"It's not my fault you're not Illyrian," his eyes darkened into a smirk, "Why don't you just hop onto your broomstick and fly?"

Even a silent Azriel emitted a gasp from his place on the opposite side of the centre island. If there was one thing you hated, it was being likened to the witches children sang about in their storybooks. It offended you how utterly unalike you were, and it made you seethe when someone, usually Rhys or Cassian, would use that hatred to rile you up.

"Oh," you stood on the countertop, towering over the High Lord by a few mere inches, "Is that why all of the doorways are so wide? Because your fat fucking head needs all the room it can get?"

Rhys stood speechless before you, the room fell silent.

Then a laugh.

Not yours of Rhys', you had to check it wasn't you making any noise before your eyes landed on the owner of the most joyful thing you'd heard in weeks.

A smile. Curled parted lips as a howling laugh ripped through them. Azriel's shadows danced to the sound, and his body shook with it. You could have cried, but you kept it together, you choked down your happiness to witness the momentary return of the one who meant the most to you.

It was no secret that you used to be Azriel's favourite. There was nothing that the two of you wouldn't do together, even if it was a medial task like taking you to the bakery or finding you a new Starfall dress that would make Mor dim in comparison. Azriel was always happy to come along. Until Elain, and then you had stopped seeing another, you'd drifted so far apart that he didn't even properly greet you anymore, all you were adorned with was a curt nod and tight lipped smile before Elain would whisk him away.

The male in front of you was nothing like that one, not in that singular glimmer of hope at least. Once his laughter died down, and a serene smile planted itself on his lips, Azriel opened his eyes and moved them to you, they glowed with something you couldn't quite understand, and then they widened. His eyes faltered. His smile faded.

Azriel gasped.

"Mate."

Darting your line of sight to Rhys, you pointed at him, flickering your gaze back to Azriel who had rose from his seat "Him?"

Rhys swatted your finger away, "I'm mated, y/n," Rhys glanced between you and took a step backward.

"So?" It couldn't be. Not right now. Not now.

"I can't do this," Azriel was struggling to breathe, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, sweat beaded at his brow and his skin had paled.

Scrambling down from the worktop, you went to take a step toward him, one that he mirrored in the opposing direction, furling his wings behind his back and clawing his shadows into submission, "Don't, Az. I can go."

The visible wince of pain that shot through you was enough for Azriel to suck in a breath and disappear from sight. The bond was dull, a golden thread soaring across the night sky to meet a shield of inked darkness. Azriel had closed you off. Shut you out.

Silence befell the kitchen, the chocolate chips you had gotten from the top shelf now scattered across the dark oak wood beneath your bare feet. Rhys had never seen you cry, he almost thought it impossible, but then he saw that single tear roll down your cheek, he could feel the pain radiating from you from finding your mate for him only to run from you.

"Hey, it's alright," he wrapped you into his arms, shushing you softly as he ran his fingers through your hair to soothe the quiet sobs rattling your shoulders, "It's going to be fine, y/n. Azriel's just confused, he'll be thrilled soon. Just you wait."

The snap had been gentle, like you had just come home after a long day, like you'd stepped through the door to see everyone you had ever loved all in one place and he was at the epicentre of it. Safe. Warm. Perfect.

Being a witch, you were never sure how life would look for you. Not even the cauldron understood your kind, you had always thought that perhaps the cauldron overlooked your species for the things most pure, like mating bonds and children. Witchlings were rare, you were the lone example of it, perhaps a part of you thought that you weren't allowed to have any love or joy, that you weren't good enough for it.

And there it was right in front of you, with the male a part of you had always yearned for, dancing in ash.

In the weeks that followed, Azriel did all he could to avoid you. No reason was good enough to make Azriel even glance in your direction let alone utter anything to you.

It had gotten to the point where you had asked Rhys for the keys to the cabin, you packed up your things and stepped through time to stand on that cold wooden floor with moonlight drifting through the small square windows.

You’d never thought that you could ever feel so alone, but as you stood there in a cabin so cold that you could see your own breath, the loneliness certainly began to set in.

There was little else to do other than light a fire to warm the little cabin on the outskirts of the city and run a bath; the tub was surrounded by candles, the ottoman at the foot of it was full of scented oils and salts which made your heart flutter. At least if you were to wallow in your own heartbreak you’d be able to do it smelling like the ocean surrounded by candlelight.

Bubbles crept up your neck as you sank into the wooden tub, it should have been a tranquil moment for you, but it was far from it in reality.

Az, please. Just talk to me. I'm still y/n, I'm still your friend. Things don't have to change.

Instead of enjoying the alone time like you should have considering that it was rare to have a minute of peace in a city full of needy children, you sat and let your mind wonder just how everything had gotten so messed up. You understood his confusion, really, you did, you understood how conflicting it must have been for him to separate with Elain, the female he was ready to spend the rest of his existence with, to then find out he was mated to you, not just you as his friend, but you as a witch.

Talk to me.

Too many tears had been spilled, you couldn't stop them from flowing from your eyes each time Azriel would fumble some excuse to get away from you. The bond was cold, it was like trying to break through a shield, an icy 10 foot deep floor that wouldn't even crack under whatever you would throw at it.

If you need me to leave then I will, Az. I'll leave for you, so you can have space, so you can think.

In the weeks that followed the revelation, you'd done all you could to try and get through to him, to let him know that you weren't expecting him to accept it, that he could take all the time he needed to process everything before speaking to you, all you needed was a sign that he was listening to you, that you mattered. It didn't surprise you that Azriel hadn't exactly thought about you in the predicament, of what it had done to you, and you couldn't even be angry at him over it because you'd be the same.

It didn't mean that it didn't hurt though.

Dark skies littered with blinking starlight was cast overhead, too beautiful to be real, too beautiful that you were sure that it was some kind of abstract painting on a black canvas. The cabin used to be one of your favourite places, Azriel and you used to escape there frequently, spending nights upon nights drinking Rhys' best wine and talking about everything and nothing.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from the memories, your eyes drifted to the clock softly ticking on the wall and you frowned, it was quite late. Lifting yourself from the tub, you wrapped a towel around your frame and padded over to the door, your wet footprints embedding themselves in the wood below. Slight disappointment sliced through you when you opened the door to see Mor, Nesta and Feyre on the deck shivering in the brisk breeze.

"We brought supplies," Nesta pushed past you, placing a wicker basket on the table and shrugging off her coat, "By supplies I mean wine, wine, and more wine."

Mor and Feyre entered, sniffing the air with soft smiles, they had always loved your scent, it was peaceful, like ocean waves lapping against the side of a mountain at dusk, airy, blissful, fresh.

The news had spread around the Inner Circle rather quickly thanks to Rhys, he had told Cassian, and well, Cassian wasn't exactly known for holding his tongue. The Lord of Bloodshed had apologised to you, feeling guilty for making things worse between you and Azriel, but you didn't mind. All you wanted was for the Shadowsinger to simply look at you. Anything else was a pointless worry. Not worth your time.

Tugging the towel tighter around your frame, you forced a smile, "This is really nice. Thank you."

Strangely, both Nesta and Feyre had been surprisingly supportive of the bond between you and Azriel. To them it made sense, you had been friends for over 500 years, you both struggled with fitting in, and you only felt truly comfortable to let your walls down around one another. To them, the bond had been there for a long time, waiting for the perfect moment. Too bad that the perfect moment had ended up making feel like the most worthless creature on the planet.

"Has he let you in yet?" Nesta rested her hand on your shoulder, her other hand was busy handing you a goblet of wine which you hugged closely to your chest and shook your head, "I'm sorry y/n. I really thought he would have by now."

"Give it time. He'll come around," Feyre draped her cloak over the arm of one of the dining chairs, smoothing out her skirt. It had always astounded you just how perfect they all were, the Archeron sisters that is, it was hard to understand how any male couldn't be attracted to them. They were quite heavenly.

"You've all been saying that for weeks," you shrugged off Nesta's hand, exasperated, "If anything he's become colder. Azriel doesn't acknowledge me, he looks right through me, he finds any reason possible to not be in the same room as me and when he sees me in the halls he turns on his heels and runs."

"I'm now living in this damned cabin hoping that some space will help him," your shoulders dropped, "I've waited my entire existence for this, I started to think that I wasn't worthy of it, and when it happened and the bond snaps with the one person I know that I could be truly happy with," your bottom lip wobbled slightly, but you choked it down and swallowed hard, "He ran."

Mor leaned forward in her seat, wide eyes under her perfectly sculpted furrowed brows, "It has nothing to do with you, y/n."

"How am I supposed to believe that when he won't even look at me?"

Something thick and fluffy draped over you, Nesta's robe that you always eyed was resting on your shoulders, "Go and get in your comfy clothes, then we can talk and bitch until all you feel is anger."

Amongst the chatter, you spied the three leather bags full to the brim of differing clothes and cosmetics, and then you realised that you weren't alone, not really, not when those three bags of clothes and trinkets belonged to the three females in the cabin with you, clearly ready to move in and stay with you until you were ready to face life again.

Who needed a man when you had three raging bitch queens?

Nesta was right, you just had to get back to work.

If anything was going to be able to distract you from that aching in your chest, then it would be work.

Luckily, Rhys, whilst he loved your abilities greatly, saw you as much more than just a celestial witch residing in his court, he likened you to a sister, blood family, which meant that he trusted no one more than you to act on his behalf when it came to court politics.

Holding such a position meant that you were rather close with the High Lords, they never saw you as Rhys' lackey at all, they saw you as a being that cared greatly about the continent who would stop at nothing to ensure harmony in all jurisdictions. Such a role meant that you were also required to entertain the High Lords whenever they visited Velaris, a place you had extended to them after the war to aid their research and better their own courts, with your help of course.

That particular evening, Rhys had asked you to entertain a certain High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra; he was visiting Lucien and his new mate, Elain, and the entire visit was putting Azriel on edge. So, naturally, you couldn't say no.

"I always love our dinners, y/n," Eris' whisky amber gaze burned into you, searching the supernatural speckles in your own.

It was no secret that Eris had a flame for you, a being he found intriguing beyond belief, in the grasp of the Night Court when Eris knew how much you would thrive in Autumn by his side. The High Lord had offered Rhys pretty much everything he could to try and convince him to let him near you. All attempts had been swiftly denied.

Plates were littered with blotches of sauce and chicken bones, two empty bottles of red had been disposed of long ago, and you were just about to order that sticky toffee slice that made your toes curl when Eris asked, "When were you going to tell me about you and Azriel, hm?"

Candlelight drifted over the side of his face, illuminating his eyes against the darkening backdrop. "What are you talking about?"

Eris smirked, swirling the second glass of your third bottle that evening in perfect circles in his palm, "Come on, y/n. You reek of him, that cedar scent that even I have to admit is rather interesting."

In all of your self wallowing and sudden busyness you hadn't realised that the scent of the mating bond lingered on you, entwining with your scent of blissful oceans to create something new, something drowning. Something suffocating.

"I can admit that the news did hurt me, just a little bit," Eris, since the war, had allowed his hair to grow out. It sat just below his shoulders, layered and playful, he had it lazily pulled back low on his head. Something about that hair and those eyes made you question everything you knew, and you did know that you weren't the only one who felt like that when around the High Lord of Autumn.

Fluttering your lashes at Eris, you ran your fingers across the line of your bodice, "I apologise. It seems that fate wanted to lead me elsewhere."

Eris dismissed the waiter, eyes grinning at you through his lashes, "Let's go to Rita's. I need to drink some more, and you," he pointed to you, knowing that he was interrupting a rather important date with a rather important pudding, and said, "Need to loosen up, Witchling."

That fucking name.

You were sure that steam was emitting from your ears, but you couldn't deny that he was right, you couldn't really remember the last time you let loose and danced the night into oblivion. So you grabbed your purse from the table, a ornate gold cage that matched the intricate details of your skirt, and rose from your seat, "I hate how right you are, Vanserra. Let's go."

The High Lord towered over you, like all of them did really, stupid high fae and Illyrians and their stupid perfect genes making them so handsome and mysterious and utterly fuckable.

Stumbling from the restaurant at the edge of the Sidra, you looped your arm through Eris' and he practically had to pull you along the streets of the city or else you'd go and do a ritual in a field or something. Despite his crush, Eris found that part you a bit odd. In a way, you did too.

"When are you going to come to Autumn, Witchling? You know you'd love it there."

Eris propositioned you with the notion every time he saw you, he clearly thought that if he pestered you about it enough then you'd agree to it one day. Even just a fleeting visit would be enough to satisfy him. Just a day or two. You couldn't deny that Autumn piqued your interest, and with everything going on, perhaps a little break would do you some good.

"Maybe sooner than you think," despite the shameless flirting, you were glad that you could call Eris your friend, underneath that mask of loathing, you found the High Lord to be complex, and he appreciated your understanding. You were the only being that had ever approached him with kindness and treated him for who he truly was and not what he displayed. "All of this stuff with Azriel is spinning my mind. I feel like I'm going insane."

Eris hummed, tugging you a bit tighter into his side as he draped his arm over your shoulder, something completely platonic that you knew would send a certain someone spiralling, "That's what mating bonds do, y/n. I know that everyone keeps on telling you that he'll come around, I hope he does. Truly." It was the first time you had seen him say something and know that he was sincere of it "But, for tonight and tonight only, you are mine and we are going to drink and dance until we physically can't anymore, alright?"

Inhaling deeply, you met his gaze, "Alright."

Rita's was packed to the brim, you could feel the music thumping through the air so intensely that the ground beneath your feet was vibrating in time with the bass. Suddenly, you felt overdressed, but Eris commanded that you not think of it as he pulled you through the doors and past the guards who nodded at you with a curt smile as you clicked by.

In Velaris, you were quite known for being the wild one, the entire city was in awe of you and the powers you displayed so beautifully. More often than not, you would be found in the poorer parts of the city enchanting the children with your magic, curls of water would dance along their cheeks, and they would gasp when you would pluck a star from the sky and rest it in the palm of your hand. You knew what it felt like to feel alone and forgotten, being the last existing witch in your coven and all, and you didn't want anyone else to feel like that. So, if some water and a star would bring some form of happiness to those children, then you'd spend the rest of your life bringing them that wonder.

Eris tugged you through the grinding bodies, some of which parted as soon as they saw your eyes glistening in the lights, and stopped at the bar, shouting over the music to order drinks for you both before he turned, handing you a glass of what you could only assume was straight liquor, "To stealing you from the Night Court, Witchling," Eris raised his glass, rolling your eyes, you met it with a clink and wasted no time in downing the liquid, relishing in the burn that travelled down your throat and chest.

"Keep dreaming, Vanserra."

Hand on heart, Eris swayed into you, "Oh believe me, y/n, I do."

If you had known who was staring at you from across the room then you would have taken a step away from Eris, much like if you had seen the shadows followed you since you left the cabin that evening you wouldn't have agreed to go to Rita's. It was too late to do anything when your eyes connected with his, yours widened in surprise and solemn shock as his own narrowed, flickering between you and Eris before softening.

Of course, the first time Azriel actually looked at you was when you were stood beside Eris Vanserra, a High Lord, the brother of the one now laying with Elain.

Fuck.

It was like he didn't even see you really, he only saw Eris standing far too close to the one the cauldron had decided to be his mate. There was no way to be blind to the hatred between them, and with Azriel's temper and Eris' flare for the dramatics, you weren't surprised that Rhys had asked you to entertain the latter for the evening.

Noticing how your body froze, Eris frowned, he followed your line of sight to the Shadowsinger perched at a booth across the room ignoring both Cassian and Rhys who were trying to speak to him, to keep him calm.

Rhys. I didn't know.

I know, y/n. It'll be fine. We can handle Az if you can handle Eris.

Stiffly nodding, you turned to speak to Eris, to convince him to leave and find another place to drink, but he was gone. Then you saw his red hair moving through the crowd and you cursed, colourfully, and you scrambled through the crowd to try and reach him before he did something stupid.

Rushing up the steps to the usual booth reserved for the Inner Circle only, you stopped in your tracks as Eris' voice sliced through the chilled air, "When are you going to give our sweet y/n a break, Rhys? I keep on asking her to come to Autumn but she keeps on refusing."

Stop talking.

"It seems that she could use a break now more than ever."

Stop fucking talking.

"Especially since the bond is unrequited and she's sat in that little cabin day in day out wondering what her fate will be."

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you tugged on him, harshly, like you were reprimanding a dog on a leash, "Stop talking."

Little did you know, that one touch alone was enough to make Azriel visibly flinch and shudder with pain. That one act pierced his heart deadlier than Elain ever had or could, the way your fingers rested just over Eris' pulse, the way you looked at him with flame in your eyes, it was too much.

Eris wouldn't hurt you, you were the closest thing he had to a true friend, bit his loosened lips would be the end of you, "You both know that this isn't fair on her. Why is she the one who has to sit in misery and move to the outskirts of this city in order to make your poor Azriel more comfortable?"

Tension bubbled, Rhys was slowly rising from his seat whilst Cassian angled himself in front of Azriel, probably to stop the Shadowsinger from doing something he would come to regret, "Eris, you're making it worse," he finally gave you his attention, "Just wait outside for me, we can find somewhere else to drink, okay?"

It took him a moment, but your pleading eyes convinced him to listen, and Eris moved from your side, disappearing from you and leaving you stood before three Illyrians, all of which you were sure didn't wish to be around you in that moment. Fiddling with your fingers, you looked up from the ground at them, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were going to be here. You told me to keep him entertained, I'm sorry."

Rhys froze, his breath caught in his throat, and Azriel was glaring at him with such intensity that it made even you shrink, and you didn't shrink away from anything or anyone, "I'll go. I'm sorry," your chest ached when Azriel didn't even glance in your direction, instead keeping his gaze trained on his High Lord who simply nodded once at you.

Then you left, you grasped Eris by the lobe of his ear and dragged him away from Rita's before Azriel could make him pay for his words, or even worse, Rhys. It took only a few blocks for Eris to swat your hand away, "I'm not a child, y/n." Eris rubbed the red tinged patch of skin at his ear with a pout.

Velaris watched on as you bundled down a cobbled path toward the bank of the Sidra, a place you went to often to channel your magic, it was serene and beautiful, and had been the perfect place for you to find your calm in the midst of such brutality, "That is my mate, Eris. Do you understand that? Azriel is going through so much already, he lost Elain to Lucien," Eris cocked his brow in warning but you continued, "Elain was meant to be the one for him, and as long as Az was happy then I could choke down everything I had ever felt for him because he deserved all of the happiness possible after everything he's been through. I could live alone for the rest of my days as long as he was happy. Then it turns out that he's mine, that he was always meant to be mine, it should have been the best day of our lives," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you were sick of it, of crying, you had never cried, it wasn't in your nature but it was all you could do these days.

"Azriel can't even look at me, I had to move out of the River House and isolate myself from everyone I love just to give him a moment to think and process everything," you turned to Eris, "You just had to prod him, didn't you? You just had to get under his skin. Do you know how this looks? Elain chose Lucien and then he sees me drinking with you?"

Eris ran a hand over his face and sighed, "I didn't mean to make things difficult, y/n. I just want what's best for you, what you deserve."

"I know and I appreciate that, I really do. I just wanted things to get better, not worse."

It astounded Eris how Azriel wasn't over to moon to have you as his mate, you were elegant and graceful, a formidable opponent, tactical and sharp, and one of the most beautiful creatures to ever walk under the skies of Prythian. Perhaps he could have been a touch more sensitive to the situation at hand.

The moonlight waltzed over the rippling waters of the Sidra which acted as a mirror to the sky above, clear and bright, full of possibility.

The bond strained in your soul, empty and unrequited, a lone dying ember searching for its flame, and you knew then that Azriel was going to pull away from you more than ever.

"You should go back to the House of Wind," your voice was small and weak, "I'll see you before you leave tomorrow."

Eris took a step toward you, fumbling, knowing that he had messed up, "Please, y/n."

"Eris," he paused his movements, "Just go. I'll see you tomorrow."

Knowing that nothing was going to change your stubborn mind, Eris retreated up the embankment and down the cobbled path, leaving you completely and utterly alone.

Pebbles brushed together under your weight, moving flat to accommodate your position. You hugged your knees to your chest, unclasping your heels and tossing them aside, rubbing the skin on your ankles softly to alleviate the pinching that was once there.

How long could you go like this? How long would be able to deal with the rejection before it broke you? How long until you took Eris up on his offer and left Velaris forever?

You didn't have much time to think of an answer, not when a familiar cool pressure coiled at the small of your back, travelling up your spine and over your shoulders. The shadows drifted through your hair and you smiled sadly at them, at the sweet sign to tell you that you weren't alone.

"How did you find me?"

A shuffle sounded from behind you, shoes scraping along the pebbles, "This is our place. Where else would you go?"

You turned then, peering over your shoulder at him, examining him for a moment. Azriel certainly looked better, his eyes had lightened by a couple of hues and his skin was healthy an tanned to perfection, though, sadness and doubt still lingered in his eyes.

Silently cursing yourself, you turned back to the water. It was yours and Azriel's place, it always had been, until Elain came along that is and then it became your place. Whenever either of you had a bad day, the other would bring them there, to listen to the water rushing up on the rocks and watch the stars, and you'd talk, about anything that was bothering you and causing you any pain, and then suddenly you'd be alright again.

You rose from the ground, brushing little fragments of twigs and dirt from the golden swirls of your skirt, and Azriel gazed at you as you did, wondering how his best friend had become a stranger so quickly, "If I had known you were there tonight I wouldn't have taken him."

"I know," Azriel had his hands bundled into his pockets, afraid that if they lingered at his side then he would reach for you and risk a whole other world of pain, "I think we need to break the bond."

The world stopped moving.

"What?"

Azriel repeated, "I think we need to break the bond."

Break the bond.

It writhed in your chest, it writhed in pain and sorrow, striking you so deeply that you thought you may stop breathing, "I can't do it again. I can't be broken like this again, not with another Vanserra, not with anyone."

Thumping in your chest, your heart cried out, lurching around in its cage, and you struggled to form any words, "Az-"

"It's what's best for us, y/n."

No. No, no, no.

"How can you say that?" Azriel frowned, his hazel orbs softening, like he too was in pain, "I have done everything I can to give you space to process this, I moved out of our home, twice, to give you space to process whatever you need to process and feel whatever it is that you need to feel. I have gone 500 years being perfectly content of being your friend and that alone, because that was better than not having you at all. I stood by and watched you pine for Mor, and then her, the one who put such a wedge between us that I was reduced to polite hellos and nods. But I dealt with it, for you and your happiness. I dealt with all of the comparisons and pain, I dealt with the punishment of your feelings for her. I would deal with every ounce of hatred you throw at me if it meant that you would feel better, hoping that one day you'd realise that I have always been here for you, that I have always loved you in ways that no one else ever could."

You were pacing up and down the riverbank, pebbles knocking together as you walked, and Azriel stood before you unmoving, unknowing of what to say and only knowing that he needed it to end, "You never even gave it a chance," your choked whisper put him on edge.

Azriel had never seen you cry, had never heard of it happening, clearly Rhys had negated to tell him just how deeply the last few weeks had impacted you. To the point where you had actually cried. Tears gathered at your bottom lids and he noticed how you looked up at the sky to prevent them from falling.

"You never let me in."

Everything within Azriel was screaming at him to reach for you, the bond that he had frozen in place behind a wall of shadow was battering against the shield like a ram to break free and comfort you.

You were right, you had been his best friend, one of the few he could ever really depend on for everything. Elain had never liked you, she had always blamed it on her abilities not being able to harmonise with your own, but Azriel had always known it was deeper than that. Elain was a seer, and somehow it hadn't dawned on Azriel just how much she could have been hiding.

Elain hated it when he spent time with you, and being as in love as he was, he believed that it was down to some strange jealously that lingered on the surface. No one would have blamed Elain for her jealousy, you were truly a sweet creature, the other half to his marred coin that he had so carelessly tossed away. What if Elain had seen something and had chosen to lead Azriel away from you in order to preserve what she wanted them to share?

"I've given you everything I can," you sounded utterly defeated, "I don't know what else to do, Azriel."

His name was like a sonnet on your lips, one of heart-breaking sadness and longing, and he stepped to it, his shadows swirled around his body and drifted out to you. They had always adored you. They had always sought after you, a stark difference to their hiding from Elain.

"I would ruin you, y/n. You deserve so much more, so much better than me," his fingers twitched for you, he was so close yet so far from holding you, from inhaling the coconut scent of your shampoo and the scent of your soul, of soft salted breezes and jasmine, "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like you weren't worthy of love, and I'm so sorry for making you think that you were alone in the world," you had cocked your head to the side in question, "Rhys told me."

Azriel took another step forward, exhaling with relief when you didn't make a move to get away from him, "Love scares me. Elain had my heart in the palm of my hand and then crushed it, and then the bond snapped with you, with the one person I know would never hurt me, and I just couldn't risk it. I can't risk it. I can't risk being broken again, I can't risk hurting you."

All this time, when Azriel had been wallowing in the loss of Elain, of having to deal with her and Lucien's bond, he had completely neglected you, and your feelings. It was something you had never done to him, something you never could.

A gentle breeze flowed through the air, it carried your scent to him, and on inhaling it, he felt his entire body relax, he felt his aching disappear, and it was as though the world had gotten clearer. You turned away from him, hands folded over your chest and facing the river so that he couldn't see your tears, "I thought I was destined to be alone. The rules of your kind and the fae have never really applied to me, even the Cauldron doesn't understand me. I thought that it took the chance of love from me, but now I see that it was just some cruel joke."

Let her in. Feel her.

The shadows cooed to him, faintly, like a lullaby to a new-born babe.

"If it'll bring you peace," your voice broke, "Then break it. Break the bond. I'll find some other place to be."

Don't let her get away. Mate. She loves you. Love her. Let her in.

As though the world was tilting, Azriel let down that wall, he felt that bond slither over the seam of it to reach you, and then what he felt brought him to his knees.

Love. Wanting. Hope. Pain. Sorrow. Longing.

It consumed him with light, fighting off the demons that had been left to plague him, decimating them with the most pure substance in Prythian. Love.

When you heard his knees hit the ground you had turned and ran to where he knelt on the pebbles, meeting him as you slid onto your own, ignoring the stabbing into your skin, "Az? Are you alright? What's wrong?" You cupped his face in your hands and he felt each one of your fingertips flow life back into him.

The two tethers to the bond were dancing with one another, meeting in the middle and thrumming as two became one, turning dark skies into ones of bright sun and opulent warmth.

It was you. Sweet and fierce you. You who had always protected him, you who had always put him first even when he couldn't return it. You.

"Az? Talk to me, tell me what's happening. Do I need to call for Rhys? I'll get him right-"

Azriel stopped you before you could rise to your feet, the act of wrapping his fingers around your wrists enough to make your words vanish in your mouth, "You love me."

Settling into the space before him, knee to knee with him and his shadows itching to pull you closer, you didn't remove your hands from his, the feeling of it so powerful that it wiped all of your pain away, "I always have."

Walks along the Sidra. Visits to the bakery. The countless thoughtful gifts for Winter Solstice. The nights spent locked away in the cabin talking about dreams and fears.

Azriel's fingers drifted along your cheek before resting there, his thumb softly soothing the tightness in your jaw, "Why did you never say anything?"

"Because you deserve to be happy, even if it isn't with me," Azriel watched your bottom lip wobble, and that stream of love within him rippled with upset. His thumb moved to it, dragging across that plump flesh that he had always wondered of the taste.

Would you taste sweet or of lightly salted oceans? Of the air at dusk perhaps?

All he had ever chased was happiness, how foolish of him to be blind to the fact he had always had it within you.

"I think the only time I've ever truly been happy, at peace, has been with you. You've always felt like home," your eyes met and he offered you a small, genteel smile; his fingers moved to your hair, raking over your scalp and floating to rest on the small of your back, "I've missed you so much."

"You have?"

Azriel hummed in admittance, "The worst part of all of this was that I left the House of Wind to be near you, because I could be, nothing was in the way of us anymore, and I knew you'd be the only one patient enough to deal with me. It was selfish, but you've always been the rocks on which the ocean crashes, you've always been the one I can turn to without fear of judgement. You understand me."

"I can still be that person, Az. I can still be your friend."

Resting his forehead against yours, Azriel spoke lowly, like he had just awoken from slumber, "Do you know how hard it is for me to not take you back to that cabin right now and make you mine?" The carnal desire was dwelling within him, a rabid need that begged to be satisfied, "But you deserve better, y/n. Better than what I've done. So if you'll let me, I want to do this properly. I want to court you and make you feel like you're the only woman in the world, and when you're ready, not me, you, then you can accept it for the both of us. Because you deserve the magic of the bond more than me, you deserve this happiness."

"And if you don't want to, then that's fine. I can live with what I've done, and if you want to move to Autumn and find happiness there then I won't stand in your way. In no world would I ever stop you from finding love and passion and joy, because you deserve it y/n, you are everything that is beautiful in this world and then some. Every single part of you is destined for greatness, for a love so powerful that people drown in it."

"I hate what I've done to you, I hate that I've made you feel unworthy of a mating bond and I'll never forgive myself for it. But if you let me, I'd like to show you that I want this, that I want you, and you can decide for yourself if a life with me is something you want."

Silence fell between you but you didn't make a move to pull away, you knelt in place, peering up at him with your hands resting on his biceps, channelling the pulsing energy of the Sidra as it ebbed and flowed downstream, "A life with you is all I've ever wanted."

The bond glowed, golden and blinding, and Azriel was struggling to keep himself together as he basked in the ocean of your love and devotion, "Can I kiss you? Please?"

If he wasn't searching for it then he wouldn't have even noticed the tiniest hazed nod directed at him. Even the stars had stopped their flickering to focus on you, their most prized possession, the only one capable of harnessing their power and turning it into something blissful and good. It was why they chose you.

Closing the gap, Azriel tilted your head upward to give him better access to the lips that had often haunted his dreams; the scent of jasmine entwined with his own and he felt himself hold his breath as he closed that gap between you.

Your lips were as soft and warm as he had imagined them to be, they tasted of fresh saltwater and some kind of sweet fruit from the gloss you always wore that made them shimmer in any light. It stopped the world from turning for a moment, the universe watched on as Azriel sealed your fates. Moving his fingers from the small of your back to your neck and deepening the embrace of your lips, Azriel relished in the taste of you, in your warmth, in the way his soul sang and his shadows pulled you in closer to him. It was a feeling he had waited his entire existence for, one you had also yearned for.

Utterly magical. Soul consuming.

Everything made sense then. How everything you had both endured was meant to be, just so that you could end up entwined in that moment. All of the pain and sorrow, all of the false love and distance, all of the laughter and sweet memories, it was all worth it. It was worth every morsel of agony.

"Such a sweet creature. My sweet creature."

"Yours?" Azriel hummed, pressing dainty kisses to the tip of your nose and cheeks, and you closed your eyes to consume his touch and shuddered when his lips landed on your collarbone, caressing the skin there, "I think I could get used to that."

Authors Note

Hey besties!

I got very carried away with this - sorry if it's not great, these pain meds are really kicking my ass right now so I haven't even properly proof read this yet xo

Taglist

@crazylokonugget @fxckmiup @rogersbarnesxx @emryb

[fushitoru]

chapter 4: the game a bridgerton!au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary: satoru has some revelations about you. both you and satoru share some quite...happening days at the manor, including an eventful game of pall mall. (4.9k)

a/n WARNING this chapter is suggestive. like always minors dni. not edited at all bc im sick of this chapter lol (like always i fear). see u at the bottom ;)

prev. the manor | next. the fall

general masterlist | series masterlist

Dearest reader, 

It has come to the attention of This Author that Miss Itadori, the undeniable diamond of the season, has made her appearance at Gojo Manor a full week ahead of the rest of the ton. Such early arrival can only provoke speculation: might the tender buds of affection be blossoming in the Kentish countryside? Shall we soon witness Miss Itadori departing with more than just fond memories, perhaps even a ring upon her finger? These are the very questions now fluttering through the minds of young ladies and their ever-watchful mamas, who may find their carefully laid plans to ensnare Lord Gojo dashed before the house party has even begun.

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

Gojo leaned back in his chair, fingers absentmindedly drumming on the armrest as he watched you fumble with the library door. The soft fabric of your nightgown slipped off your shoulder, a glimpse of bare skin catching in the dim light⸺something not lost to Gojo’s eyes as he watched your figure disappear angrily. Your face was flushed, eyes wide and uncertain. Despite the flurry of emotions playing across your features, what struck him most was the way your hands trembled as you fought to maintain composure.

His lips pressed into a thin line as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. You had come here⸺of all places⸺into his sanctuary, and for what? A part of him couldn’t reconcile the image of you sneaking into the library in the dead of night with the proper, composed lady you portrayed during the day. The whole encounter felt surreal, leaving a knot of confusion coiled tightly in his chest.

His gaze lingered on the empty doorway after you vanished, a strange hollowness settling in his chest. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to shake off the feeling, but it clung to him like the shadows of the room. His fingers tightened around the armrest, knuckles whitening as if he could grasp onto something concrete⸺something that made sense. But all he was left with was the lingering echo of your footsteps in the hallway and the ghost of your flushed face in his mind.

He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. His mind kept returning to the way your nightgown had slipped from your shoulder as you fumbled with the door. The pale fabric had slid down so effortlessly, exposing the curve of your bare skin. It wasn’t scandalous, not really⸺not enough to warrant the way his thoughts kept circling back to it. And yet, he couldn’t shake the image, the unexpected flash of vulnerability. The sight of it stirred something in him, a quiet confusion that unsettled his usual composure.

What was it that made him notice? Gojo’s brow furrowed as he considered it, his fingers absently drumming on the armrest of his chair. He had witnessed plenty of women in far less modest circumstances (most of them courtesy of his friends, who forced him to go to ridiculous events), and yet, this felt different. There was something about the way you had tried to maintain your dignity, the way you had fought to compose yourself even as your face flushed and your nightgown betrayed you. It was... distracting.

The memory of your fearful expression gnawed at him. He had expected haughty arrogance or calculated charm, not genuine fear. You weren’t like the people who usually surrounded him, playing their part in society's grand performance, all vying for his attention. There was an intelligence in your eyes, a spark that made him feel something unsettlingly close to admiration.

He couldn’t make sense of it. Why did it matter that you were different? Why did he find himself enjoying your company, despite the fact that you seemed entirely uninterested in his? He drummed his fingers against the armrest, contemplating the possibility of pursuing you for the rest of the season⸺though he quickly dismissed the thought. You were uncooperative, difficult. A chase after you would be nothing short of exhausting. 

And yet...

His attention shifted back to the desk, to the scattered papers you had left behind. Gojo reached for them, his fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the parchment as though handling something fragile. The numbers and diagrams were a mess of scribbled notes, and yet, they held a strange familiarity. His brow furrowed as he traced the lines with his eyes, piecing together the fragmented calculations. Then, like a puzzle falling into place, it clicked.

Venus. Of all things, you had been calculating the size of Venus.

Gojo’s hand froze midair, hovering over the papers. He blinked, his breath catching in his throat. He had assumed⸺no, expected⸺you to be reading some frivolous romance, a book about love and passion, something fitting for a young lady sneaking into a library. But instead, you were working on complex celestial calculations.

He had pegged you for a typical young lady of the ton⸺someone more interested in the latest gossip or the affections of suitors than in the stars. It annoyed him, more than he cared to admit, that he had been wrong.

Gojo set the paper down, his hand resting on the edge of the desk as he leaned back in his chair. The flicker of irritation that sparked in his chest was unfamiliar, unsettling even. It wasn’t just that you had surprised him⸺plenty of people had done that before. No, it was the fact that he had misjudged you so completely. He prided himself on being perceptive, on seeing through people’s masks with ease. Yet here you were, slipping past his assumptions with nothing more than a few scribbled notes and a fleeting presence.

His gaze dropped to the floor, and for the first time in a long while, he felt uncertain. Gojo wasn’t used to feeling this way⸺unsettled, annoyed, and a little too curious for his own good. He tapped the papers lightly, lost in thought. What did it mean that you had gotten under his skin like this? That he found himself wanting to unravel the mystery of you, to see what lay beneath the surface of your carefully constructed facade?

A sigh escaped his lips, low and quiet. His hand finally left the papers, and he leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as if it held answers he couldn’t quite grasp. The world around him was filled with people who either fawned over his charms or remained blissfully unaware of his true nature. But you? You saw right through him. You challenged him, unsettled him, made him question things he had never thought to question before.

With a final glance at the empty doorway, Satoru leaned forward again, ready to dive back into his work. But this time, his thoughts weren’t solely on his family’s ledgers. They were on you⸺and the undeniable pull that had started to form between you.

And inevitably, because Satoru is distracted, he lets the lull of sleep sneak up on him, swathing him in its deep, heavy blanket.

No, Satoru hears himself think. You’re not supposed to be here.

You’re sitting on his bed, somehow made it up to his chambers. A part of Satoru comprehends⸺in all his sleep-deprived glory⸺that he is definitely dreaming, but there’s an overwhelmingly stubborn part of him that dominates his entire consciousness, refusing to accept the fact. 

You’re leaning on your elbow, resting on your side on the foot of his bed. Part of him wants to believe that you are really here, sheer nightgown that seems to get shorter and shorter⸺slipping up your thighs⸺every time his consciousness paints an image of you. The sheer material drapes over your figure, accentuating the gentle curve of your waist and the fullness of your hips, painting a picture that torments him.

“My lord,” you whisper. 

It’s just his title, but your voice carries a sweetness it never holds in reality, dripping with an unfamiliar softness that makes Satoru’s heart lurch. Panic takes root, and he scrambles back, trying to distance himself from the fantasy in front of him. His back slams against the headboard as he fights to resist⸺not just you, but the part of himself that aches to abandon all notions of honor. That part of him that craves to do things to you that are anything but honorable.

Then, he notices your smile. It’s not the polite, practiced smile you show at balls or to suitors vying for your attention. This one is sincere, warm⸺a smile that speaks of affection, the kind you’ve never shown him before.

Like you are in love. 

And you are not helping Satoru in his restraint because you position yourself, crawling like a predator, straddling his lap. Satoru is suddenly breathing too fast, his chest tightening with the weight of desire and disbelief.

Your lips are at his ear. Your lips are so soft. “Touch me,” you say, trailing your lips down feather light across his jaw. 

Right now, you are in love. With him. You are his, and Satoru desperately does not want to fight it. 

He does not want to. 

Your hands start trailing down his torso, and now he registers that he is simply wearing a linen shirt and underwear because you are tracing the edge of his underwear, touching his inner thighs, getting so, so impossibly close to⸺

“No,” he rasps, squeezing his eyes shut. “I am a man of honor.”

But that’s a lie. One that Satoru clings to, because admitting the truth would shatter everything he’s built. His identity, his values⸺they all rest on the lie he’s desperately trying to hold onto.

What he really wants is nothing between you and him.

He wants that flimsy nightgown gone, the one that barely covers your thighs and what lies between them. He wants to keep the candlelight burning so he can see every inch of you, learn every detail of your body. He wants to slip off your chemise and explore the softness of your skin, trace the swell of your breasts, the dip of your hips, and taste the sweetness of your lips.

Satoru can’t focus on anything except the fact you are utterly, scandalously close to him, sitting on his lap and staring at him as if you love him. 

And his treacherous heart wants to abandon duty, honor, the dukedom, the royal family⸺everything⸺and simply take you. To feel the weight of you pressed against him, wrapped around him.

But just as his hands move to cup your face, you start giggling. “No, you are not.”

Satoru blinks, confused.

You laugh again, light and teasing. “You are no man of honor.”

And suddenly, your laughter echoes in his mind, filling the room with its taunting melody. It etches itself into his thoughts, leaving an indelible mark.

“You are a coward.”

You entered the drawing room to break your fast, Choso by your side, and immediately locked eyes with Gojo, who was already seated at the table with his mother. He quickly looked away, focusing on the toast he was slathering with an ungodly amount of jam.

As you moved to sit at the table with Choso, you couldn't help but study him. Gojo appeared more disheveled than usual, perhaps a bit fatigued, though any sign of vulnerability quickly vanished when your mother spoke.

“Lord Gojo, it is a fine morning, is it not?” she inquired with her usual warmth.

Gojo smiled, leaning back in his chair with his characteristic nonchalance. “Indeed, Lady Itadori, especially as I am blessed with such lovely company as yourself and your daughter.” His eyes flickered toward you, an arrogant glint in them before they shifted back to your mother.

You and Choso exchanged exasperated glances. 

Your mother chuckled, clearly charmed. “Oh, my lord, you flatter me. Tell me, what do you favor for breakfast? I am always curious to hear of others' preferences.”

“Clearly, it is toast drowned in enough jam to satisfy an army,” you muttered under your breath, delicately spreading butter onto your own toast.

Gojo’s eyes flashed, and he couldn’t resist a retort. “At least I do not indulge in something as dull as butter.”

You stiffened. “Butter is far superior to such overwhelming sweetness. Jam annihilates the taste of the toast itself, rendering it pointless.”

“And butter,” he shot back, “adds nothing but blandness. It is unremarkable, simple, and tasteless.”

A surge of heat rose to your face, ready to deliver another sharp remark, but before you could respond, Duchess Gojo’s lilting laughter filled the room. “Oh, my dears, what a lively couple you make!” Her tone was teasing, her eyes alight with amusement. “Such spirited conversation at breakfast⸺how delightful!”

Both you and Gojo stiffened, your faces flushing, though whether it was from irritation or something else entirely, you couldn’t say. You hastily turned your attention back to your toast, while Gojo busied himself with his tea.

Duchess Gojo clapped her hands together lightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Since we are all in such a lively mood this morning, I do believe a game of pall-mall is in order once breakfast is through. The garden is in full bloom, and the weather is perfect for it.”

Your mother smiled graciously. “A wonderful idea, Duchess. It has been some time since we last enjoyed a game.”

“Indeed,” the Duchess agreed. “And I daresay a little friendly competition will do us all good. What do you say, Lord Gojo?” She turned to her son with a knowing look. “I trust you are up for the challenge?”

Gojo leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “I never shy away from a challenge, Mother. But do be warned, I have no intention of losing.”

“Confidence is a virtue,” you remarked dryly, reaching for your teacup, “but do not let it cloud your judgment. Pall-mall requires more than mere bravado.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. “Ah, a challenge from you as well. This shall be an interesting morning indeed.”

“Let us hope your skills in the garden match your flair for words, my lord,” you retorted, your tone light (for the sake of preventing your mother a heart attack) but your gaze to Gojo sharp. 

Duchess Gojo’s laughter rang out once more, her eyes gleaming with delight. “Oh, this will be most entertaining! Come now, let us finish our breakfast, and then we shall see who emerges victorious on the field.”

You took a sip of your tea, pointedly ignoring the way Gojo’s gaze lingered on you as you did so. The day had barely begun, and already, you felt the familiar tension of being in his presence. But if there was one thing you knew, it was that you wouldn’t back down from a challenge⸺whether at the breakfast table or in the garden.

Duchess Gojo clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Now, we must let our diamond choose first. After all, she is the only lady participating today.”

You smiled warmly at her, a polite nod of appreciation. Gojo, however, frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced between you and the bag of mallets. “Are we not simply setting her up for victory?”

Turning to him with an innocent smile, you crossed your arms. “What’s that, my lord? Are you unable, as a man, to deal with the loss of your chosen mallet? I know some men depend heavily on certain familiars to win.”

Gojo held your gaze for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a dismissive shrug, he looked away. “Choose whatever you want. I will be sure to defeat you regardless.”

Duchess Gojo placed a warm hand on your back, encouraging you forward. “That’s the spirit, my son. Now, Miss Itadori, do choose which one you fancy.”

You approached the bag of mallets, your eyes scanning over the selection. They varied in subtle shapes and sizes, each one seemingly tailored for a different style of play. Your gaze settled on a mallet slightly larger than the others, painted a light blue shade. Its weight and shape seemed particularly advantageous for aim and control—perfect for directing the ball with precision.

As you picked it up, Gojo’s expression darkened, a hint of irritation flickering in his eyes. “Of course, she chooses the best one,” he muttered under his breath.

“Well,” Duchess Gojo crossed her arms. “I suppose it’s only fair that you all let the lady go first.” She turned to you, nodding. “I will go join your mother for tea inside, my dear.” Winking, she adds, “Show these boys how real ladies do it.”

As the duchess took her leave, Choso, always the supportive brother, leaned over to you with a small smile. “Excellent choice, sister. Show them how it’s done.”

You gave him a grateful nod and positioned yourself for your turn. With a graceful swing, you sent the ball rolling smoothly across the lawn. Choso clapped in approval, but when you looked up, Gojo and Yuji were both glowering at you from the sidelines.

Gojo’s lips curled into a smirk, clearly not amused by your success. “Beginner’s luck,” he commented dryly. Yuji could only nod in mindless agreement to Gojo, and you graced him with a glower. Traitor.

Now it was Gojo’s turn. He stepped forward with confident ease, positioning himself with the mallet as though he had been doing this his entire life. With a swift, practiced swing, his ball shot forward and struck a target dead center. Yuji’s eyes sparkled with admiration, practically beaming at Gojo’s skill.

Choso and you exchanged petulant glances, unimpressed by Gojo’s display. But Yuji’s excitement only grew, and he couldn’t resist praising his mentor. “Incredible, my lord! You never miss!”

Choso’s turn came next. With a focused look, he lined up his shot and knocked Gojo’s ball right out of position, sending it tumbling off course into a forested area. Gojo let out a forced laugh, masking his irritation as best as he could, and you clapped and let out a small, petty giggle. “Good shot, brother! I fear Lord Gojo will have to travel much distance to retrieve and get it on course.”

You would come to bite your words.

When it was Yuji’s turn, he aimed with all his might and sent your ball flying out of position. You gasped in outrage, turning to him with narrowed eyes. “Oh, you will pay for this.”. 

Gojo, on the other hand, gave Yuji a hearty pat on the back, beaming with pride. “Well done, Yuji. Well done.”

It was now your turn, and you stomped your way towards the forested area where you and Gojo’s balls had traveled towards. Soon enough, Gojo was following after you.

The path was shaded by trees, and the coolness of the forest was a welcome relief from the heat of the sun. You could help but give each other glares until you finally broke the silence.

 “How dare you bewitch my brother into turning against me?” you accused him, stepping over a stray root.

Gojo rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “It appears that Yuji’s blood is indeed not thicker than water,” 

 “Or maybe⸺just maybe⸺your charm isn’t as infallible as you think.”

Keeping pace beside you, Gojo scoffed. “And yet, here you are, still engaged in conversation with me. I must be doing something right.”

You shoot him an angry sideways glance. “I’m only here because my ball is, unfortunately, in the same direction as yours. Nothing more.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Ah, so it’s mere coincidence that fate keeps pulling us together.”

“More like unfortunate circumstance.”

The two of you continued bickering as you searched for your wayward balls. The back-and-forth banter echoed through the forest, neither of you willing to back down.

Finally, you spotted them⸺your ball and Gojo’s⸺resting precariously on top of a narrow stream of water. You both halted, glancing at each other, and then, without a word, you raced forward.

Gojo reached the water’s edge first, but you weren’t far behind. Neither of you hesitated as you waded into the shallow stream, your focus entirely on retrieving your respective balls. The bottoms of your clothes became soaked in the cool water, but neither of you paid it any mind, too busy grappling to reach your goals first.

Just as you managed to scoop up your ball, your dress snagged on something in the water. You stumbled forward, colliding directly into Gojo, who had just retrieved his own. The sudden impact sent both of you toppling into the water.

You landed squarely on top of him, the shock of the fall leaving you momentarily dazed. Gojo blinked up at you, his breath catching as his gaze dropped to your now-dampened bodice, honing in on your bosom. For a moment, his usually sharp and calculating eyes softened, confusion flickering across his face as if he didn’t quite understand the effect you were having on him.

You scrambled to find your words, unsure of what to say. “I didn’t mean to⸺”

Before you could finish, Gojo gently grasped your shoulders and helped you off of him. He stood up first, his expression uncharacteristically serious as he brushed off his wet clothing and offered you a hand. You took it, steadying yourself as you rose to your feet.

Gojo swallowed hard, clearly at a loss for words. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then quickly closed it, shaking his head. “I must go,” he muttered,.

Without another word, he turned and left, leaving you standing there in the stream, confused and flustered as you watched him disappear into the trees.

“I am not impressed.” Nobara impassively stares you down with a glower.

You fluttered your fan, maintaining a delicate air of mock innocence. “Whatever do you mean, my dear friend?”

The two of you sat at a small table on the terrace, its stone surface warm from the midday sun. Before you, the expansive field served as Gojo’s personal training ground, scattered with targets and archery equipment. Gojo and his protégé, Yuji, had clearly been at it for hours, their bare skin glistening with sweat under the relentless sun. They moved with a practiced ease, their focus entirely on the task at hand.

Gojo was currently demonstrating a particular stance to Yuji, his voice carrying faintly over the terrace as he corrected the younger man’s posture and grip. Yuji, ever the diligent student, watched him with an intensity that bordered on awe. You couldn’t help but reflect that his expression now⸺determined and assured⸺contrasted much with his encounter with you at the game. 

Nobara’s eyes narrowed as she regarded the scene. “Why are we here?” she asked flatly, her gaze lingering on the two men.

You turned to her with a smile, fluttering your fan with exaggerated elegance. “Why, to record in my journal, of course. One must capture the beauty of Mother Nature when it presents itself so generously from this terrace.”

Her expression remained unimpressed. “Is it truly Mother Nature that has captivated you, or Lord Gojo’s bare skin?” She glanced down at your unopened journal, its quill resting untouched beside it. “And how much progress have you made in this recording of yours?”

You couldn’t suppress a laugh, caught in your own half-hearted excuse. “Well, even you cannot deny that he presents a rather fine figure, can you? And I will get to my writing in due time. Inspiration must first strike, after all.”

Nobara sighed, folding her arms across her chest. “I cannot fathom how you find pleasure in looking upon a man who has caused you so much distress. Many times, in fact.”

You glanced back toward the field, watching as Gojo effortlessly pulled back his bowstring, the muscles in his back rippling with the movement. His form was impeccable, each action a demonstration of his skill and strength. Yuji, in contrast, struggled to replicate the motion with as much ease and accuracy, though his determination was evident.

"He’s clearly enjoying himself," you commented dryly, turning your attention back to Nobara. "Torturing me, that is. I might as well make due of my harrowing and demeaning stay here and enjoy some aspects of Gojo. I swear, he delights in the fact that I’m stuck here."

Nobara’s eyes narrowed, and she snorted. "Oh, absolutely. Men like him don’t get much amusement in life unless it involves making someone else miserable."

You shook your head, remembering the library encounter all too vividly. Gojo had seemed genuinely surprised to find you there, and yet he had taken to taunting you with his usual smugness. That infernal smirk of his had been etched into your memory.

"I almost wonder," you mused, "if he was actually shocked to find me in the library. Perhaps I caught him off guard for once."

Nobara raised an eyebrow. "What were you doing? Looking for a book on how to survive insufferable dukes?"

You chuckled softly. "No, I was reading about Venus, actually. But Gojo⸺he assumed I was indulging in some silly romance. Imagine his surprise when he realized I was working on calculations instead."

Nobara’s lips twitched upward in amusement, but before she could respond, a loud thud! echoed across the terrace. Both of you looked down just in time to see Gojo's arrow hit the target dead center.

You rolled your eyes. Of course, he would show off. That insufferable man never missed an opportunity to flaunt his skills. Yuji, predictably, looked like he was about to faint from admiration.

Gojo notched another arrow, his back muscles rippling as he drew it back with practiced ease. His abs tightened with the effort, and though you told yourself you were merely observing his technique, your gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary. The tautness of his form was, undeniably, impressive.

“It is a shame,” Nobara remarked, her voice breaking through your thoughts. “He does present a rather fine figure. If only his character matched his appearance.”

You blinked, realizing that your gaze had lingered on him for far too long. “What?”

Nobara glanced at you, her expression half-amused, half-pitying. “I merely observe that if his manners were as well-formed as his physique, he might be a most agreeable companion.”

You opened your fan again, waving it lightly in front of your face. “Perhaps. But we both know that appearances can be deceiving.”

Nobara’s expression turned serious as she looked at you. “You must find yourself a husband who is both well-formed and well-mannered, my dear. Else I shall be forced to gouge out my eyes every time I am called to attend on you.”

You sighed dramatically, closing your fan with a soft snap. “Whatever you say, Nobara.”

Yet, even as you dismissed her words, your gaze drifted back to the field. Gojo was a puzzle, indeed. And whether you liked it or not, he had captured more of your attention than you were willing to admit.

Satoru is sweaty and hot, and therefore he must rush back to take a cold bath. 

The weather is quite warm, he must admit to himself. Teaching Yuji had been nothing sort of pleasurable; the boy’s physical prowess was quite impressive, and he learned things very, very fast. If Yuji were to keep learning and working on his skill, he would easily be up to Gojo’s level or even surpass him. 

As he climbs up the stairs to the terrace, he wipes his brow, which has budded with sweat. When he crosses a table that overlooks the field, he notices a book. His mother and him wouldn’t expose any books like this⸺a fine and intricate design covering the top⸺to the harsh, humid weather, so he picks up the book, frowning.

Frowning, he picked it up, curiosity getting the better of him. The book felt unfamiliar in his hands, and as he opened it, the words within seemed to swim before his eyes. Annoyed, he rubbed the sweat from his forehead and squinted, finally making out the fine, neat handwriting on the page.

I confess, there is something intoxicating about the notion that women might be more than what society has so neatly confined us to be. Is it truly so outlandish to consider that we, too, possess minds capable of great thought and spirits yearning for freedom?

Satoru's eyes widened, and a flicker of intrigue sparked within him. He flipped to the next page, where the writing grew messier, more hurried.

Indeed, God truly blesses the wrong soldiers with features such as his. However, I take pride in being one of His strongest for I possess the fortitude to resist the temptation of ending Gojo’s miserable existence myself.

His eyes widened. If he had been intrigued before, now he was thoroughly captivated. This had to be you. His heart began to beat faster as he quickly turned to another page, where the ink was still fresh, and a pressed leaf lay nestled between the pages.

If I were to base my choice of husband solely on physical appearance, I must confess that Lord Gojo would be a most compelling candidate. However, to consider him without regard to his character would be a grave disservice to myself and to dear Nobara, who would bear the consequences of such a choice daily.

I hold out hope for a suitor with a similar strength of physique, one whose form displays power and grace, much like Gojo. His muscles, so clearly defined, speak of formidable strength and control—his back rippling with every pull of the bowstring, his breath labored as he steadies himself.

Alas, such attributes, though appealing, are not enough…

His fingers hovered over the delicate page, the words sinking in. A part of him wanted to laugh at your sharpness, your refusal to fall prey to his charms, but another part⸺one that kept resurfacing and resurfacing against his will, showing up even in his slumber⸺felt something else entirely.

…What a pity, indeed.

prev. the manor | next. the fall

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n i feel like the only important plot point in this chapter is that gojo is a boobs guy

sorry if this chapter was a little icky :( i prefered publishing this than having to subject my dear beta reader to having to edit this mess or even me having to think about it further. i will rest so that the next chapter is better <3 (lots of fluffy moments to come in the next one)

gojo when you spawned in his bedroom

will finally treat myself to answering asks after I wake up since i'm done with this dreadfull chapter <333 jesus it's 3am

comment, reblog, and send in an ask to let me know ur thots :3 memes are also appreciated <3

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[withwritersblock]

Those Eyes

~Those Eyes by New West~

Author's Note: idk! tehe as always italics are flashbacks Summary: Y/N surprises Luke after a long few months near the end of his rookie season Warnings: implied smut, swearing Word Count: 3,887 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

The exhaustion on his face was heartbreaking enough. The loss was probably one of the hardest games she’s ever watched. The second half the roster left the ice within the first two seconds she knew it was going to be a long night.

They fought hard and almost tied it late but the game ended in a disappointed loss. The camera panned towards Luke dart towards the tunnel with his head hanging low. Her shoulders hung low as she dropped her head into her hands. 

She wanted nothing more than to hug him and hold him. 

A groan fell from her lips as she took a deep breath. She stood up and wrapped her dark blue blanket around her body as she stumbled out of her bedroom. The blanket was draped acrossed her shoulders as she snuggled the ends against her chest. 

“How’d it go?” her roommate and best friend, Hannah, said as she saw Y/N walk out of the room. 

“Bad,” she let out as she wandered towards the kitchen, in desperate need of an alcoholic drink. “Luke looked so tired,” her voice cracked slightly. 

“Shit,” Hannah muttered as she brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. 

The party was in full swing and Luke spent most of the night trying to find Y/N. She promised that she was going to be there but not until after eleven. It was well past eleven and he couldn’t find her. 

Y/N texted him ten minutes ago and he was on the hunt for her instantly.

They were in a new relationship, only a few weeks but he was desperate to find her. There was barely any room to move or breathe. Shoving through the crowd, he kept shouting apologize yet no one seemed fazed by his efforts. Shimming his shoulders to the beat of the song every time he squeezed through a group of people to pretend like he was having a good time.

He would be having a good time if he could find her. Pressing his lips together he scanned the party. He was taller than majority of the crowd, so it was easy to scan the crowd. He brought his beer towards his lips as he bobbed his head to the music. Eyeing the crowd, he saw his teammates happily dancing with random girls they met just that night. 

He ran his fingers through his hair as he continued to scan the crowd, a couple of girls met his gaze. Smiling or shyly looking away, none of them were even close to his girl.

After a few seconds, he finally found her. It was as if time stopped once he saw her, she slowly turned her gaze towards him. Smiling widely towards him, she leaned away from the wall she was against. His heart jumped into his throat as he smiled widely. 

He began stumbling through the crowd, still shouting apologizes as he squeezed through a large crowd of his teammates. He looked up hoping to see her but he couldn’t, until he felt a tap against his arm. Spinning around, he met her gaze.

“Hey!” he shouted as he admired the way her lips curled up into a grin.

“I didn’t realize how crazy this was going to be!” she shouted back. Luke nodded as he rested his hand onto her lower back, subconsciously pulling her towards him. 

Leaning down, he whispered against her ear, “Do you want to stay out here or go somewhere quieter?” 

He pulled away, meeting her gaze. She pressed her lips together as she waved her finger towards him. He leaned back down as she delicately took a hold of his jaw. “Can we get a drink before we disappear?” she pulled back, her hand still holding his jaw. He immediately nodded. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he guided her towards the kitchen.

They bumped into a handful of his teammates and they were forced into conversations for a while before was able to get a drink. Even after she got her drink, she nearly finished it before they disappeared into his room.

He shut the door and the music instantly got quieter but it was still shaking the floor slightly. Luke smiled awkwardly towards her as he wiped his hand across his nose. She took another sip of her drink as she kept looking towards him.

“You know what I’m in the mood for?” Luke asked as he stepped towards her, taking a hold of her waist. He stole the drink from her and placed it onto the night stand beside his bed. He stumbled back towards his bed. She raised her eyebrows suspiciously, “A Friends marathon,” he let out as his legs hit the back of the bed, nearly forcing him to fall onto his back. 

She barked out a laugh as she rolled her eyes playfully, “I could always watch that,” she mumbled as she climbed over him, laying beside him. He looked towards her, smiling softly as he began to pull up the TV show. 

“Come ‘ere,” he mumbled as she happily laid in his arms.

Y/N took a hold of two White Claws and walked towards the living room. Hannah eyes widened as she held out her hand excitedly for the drink. Y/N tossed it towards her. They both popped open their drinks as she sat down beside Hannah. She draped the blanket over the both of them.

“You know, spring break is next week. You should go visit him,” Hannah offered before she brought the drink towards her lips. Y/N tilted her head back and let out a groan.

“I don’t have the money for that,” Y/N mumbled as she tilted her head against the top of the couch. Shutting her eyes, an image of Luke on the bench. Defeat written all over his features. 

“You know who does,” Hannah expressed, “Your boyfriend.”

“I am not going to ask him for money,” she let out before she brought the drink towards her lips. Hannah let out a long dramatic sigh as she smacked her hand against the couch dramatically. 

“It’s not asking him for money if it’s to visit him,” Hannah let out. Y/N pouted her lips as she tilted her head against the top of the couch. “Sounds like he really needs it,” Hannah urged. 

“Yeah,” she mumbled, “I need it too.” Y/N shifted her gaze towards the TV to see a movie on the screen. It was one of her favorites and it was one of the new ones on Netflix. 

Hannah shifted her gaze towards Y/N, frowning slightly before glancing back towards the screen. Hannah clenched her jaw as she frowned slightly. Y/N pulled her phone from her hoodie pocket, glancing at her phone screen to see a photo of Luke and herself.

It was a photo from one of his frat parties, the lights were dark and it was nearing the end of the party. They were both asleep on the half broken couch, they were facing one another, Luke’s hands were wrapped around her body. One of his hands were on the base of the neck and his other was low on her hip. Her arms were around his upper body. In the photo, Dylan was tossing a blanket over them in the live photo and Mark was giggle as he took the photo.

Blinking rapidly, she felt her eyes start to well up in tears. She turned off the screen as she tilted her head back up to meet Hannah’s eye. There was a look in her eye that felt as though she was right. 

After a few seconds, her phone started to ring. Pulling her phone up to see Luke was calling her. 

She shot up, staring at his contact photo for a moment. It was a screenshot of him on FaceTime after he scored his first goal. He was smiling and laughing and so happy. It’s been a little while since she’s seen him like that.

Jumping off of the couch, she tossed the blanket towards Hannah. She brought the phone towards her ear. Neither of them said anything at first. Y/N walked towards her bedroom.

Luke took in a sharp breath as he sniffled. 

“Luke, are you back at the hotel?” she questioned, before swallowing hard. He hummed. Shutting the door behind her, she immediately collapsed onto her bed. “Are you okay?” she asked. 

“No,” he choked out, “I’m so tired and I want the season to be done and my body fucking hurts,” he explained as he started to cry. She’s only seen him cry tears of joy. “I don’t know how to do this, I can’t do it anymore-it’s too much. I just want to go back to school and you. I just want to go back to you,” he sobbed. “I can’t do another year of this,”

He took another sudden breath and another sob falling from his lips. 

“Lukey, I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, “The season’s almost done, my love-”

“What if I don���t make it?” he let out, his voice completely cracking in the process. 

“M-make what?” she let out while shaking her head. It was silent on his end of the phone as she heard him sniffle and take a deep breath.

“I’m supposed to be as good as Quinn and I-I can’t and the fans hate me,” 

“They don’t hate you, Luke,” she tried to comfort him. “You’re a Calder contender, Luke that’s incredible, love, you’re almost through the toughest year in the league. You’re getting through this,” she explained, trying not to tear up. 

“When do you graduate again?” he let out, his voice cracked.

“Decemember,” she mumbled, “Barely a year left, my love.”

“I can’t do another year without you,” 

That was the moment she realized that she needed to visit him when he was back in New Jersey. For the next hour she was on the phone with him, calming him down. There wasn’t much of anything that she could say that truly could make him feel better. He was so exhausted that he ended falling asleep while on the phone with her.

After Luke fell asleep, she immediately called Jack. It ran a few times before he answered. “Uh-hey, Y/N?” he let out groggily. 

“Hey Jack, I’m sorry that I woke you,” 

“‘S cool, what’s wrong?” he muttered. 

She took in a shaky breath, “Luke’s really struggling and I was hoping you could help me with something,” she mumbled. There was shuffling on his end of the phone.

“Do you need money for a flight? I’ll do anything, the kid is miserable,” he let out a dry chuckle before he continued to shuffle on his end of the phone.

Taking in a deep breath, “Yeah.”

“Okay, so we come back late Saturday, can you be here by then? Our neighbor has an extra key. I’ll let him know that you’ll be there to grab it,” he explained.

“Wait really?” she asked.

“He needs to see you. I’ll keep it a suprise,” he expressed. “Just let me know how much the flights are,” 

“Thank you Jack,” her voice cracked as she spoke.

The party was nearing it’s end but Luke and Y/N were already in his room. It was normal for them to disappear near the end of the parties. Or in the middle of the parties. Or in the beginning of the parties. It was something they’ve been doing since the first party she attended six months ago.

He was laying on the bed, his hands were resting beneath his head. Sitting up, she brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. Her lips fell into a pout as she delicately glided her hands across the curve of his abs line. 

Pouting his lips, his eyes flickered up and down her frame. The small skin tight dress was starting to ride up her thighs. More and more of her skin was starting to get exposed. Swallowing hard, he tilted his head to the side. Pulling his hand away from his head, he took a delicate hold of the side of her thigh. He began to absentmindedly rub against her skin. 

“Do you want to change into something comfier?” he asked as he ran his hand higher and higher. A small smirk formed to her lips as she leaned towards him. Her hands slowly glided up from his abs towards his jawline. Her fingertips glided so softly, his skin started to erupt in goosebumps. 

His lips curled upward slowly as she slowly climbed onto his lap. His cheeks started to flush red as he continued to look towards her. 

“I don’t really have anything here,” she mumbled as she slowly leaned towards him. His hands slowly slipped down towards the back of her thighs. He squinted his eyes slightly as he fought the smile that was starting to form on his lips.

“I’ve got clothes. Pretty comfy clothes. I mean I think they’re pretty comfy,” he mumbled as he took in a sharp breath. She giggled as she leaned towards him, delicately pressing her lips against his. He hummed against her lips as his slowly ran his hands up the back of her thighs, climbing higher up her dress. She pulled away, raising her eyebrows suspiciously. 

“Well give me some options,” she muttered before pressing her lips against his again for a few seconds. He smacked his hands against her ass forcing a giggle from her lips. “Luke!” she scolded as she climbed off his lap. 

He fought off a grin forming to his lips as he followed after her. Stumbling towards his closet, she adjusted the bottom of her dress. Biting his bottom lip, he started looking through his t-shirts and hoodies. 

“O-or you could just take the dress off,” he said shyly. Looking down towards her, she looked up towards him widening her eyes while fighting off a smirk.

“Are you trying to get me naked?” she let out teasingly. He pursed his lips forward, a blush forming to his cheeks. 

“I didn’t-I mean. If you don’t feel comfortable or-”

“Luke,” she teased as she rested her hands onto his arms, “I was messing with you.”

“Right,” he muttered as he took in a sharp breath as he reached into his closet and pulled out a random t-shirt. “It’s-um pretty comfy if you want-” he let out.

She smiled up towards him as she took a hold of the shirt. She stepped backwards, looking into his eyes. “Can you help me?” she asked, smirking softly. Slowly, she spun around and pulled her hair away from her neck. Luke swallowed harshly as he felt his heart racing suddenly.

“Are you sure? I was technically kidding-”

“Luke,” she whispered.

“Right,” he let out as he slowly reached his hands towards her. He delicately rested his hand onto her hip while he reached for the zipper. He clenched his jaw nervously as he slowly started to glide the zipper down her back. Once it was completely unzipped he kept his hands on her waist. “Can I?” he asked barely above a whisper. She hummed.

Stepping towards her, he slowly glided his hand up her back. He slowly began to push the dress off of her body. Leaning towards her delicately pressed his lips against her shoulder. Tilting her head back, she rested it against his chest. Slowly the dress fell from her frame. Luke’s hands happily wrapped around her body as she spun around to face him.

Looking up into his eyes, he felt his heart jump into his throat. “Is this okay?” he let out. She nodded as he leaned towards her kissing her softly yet urgently. Reaching down, he took a hold of her thighs. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she jumped up wrapping her legs around his waist. He walked towards the bed and delicately laid her onto it.

She looked up towards him with those eyes that he could never get tired of seeing. He smirked as he climbed on top of her, urgently leaning down and kissing her passionately.

She had been pacing in Luke’s apartment for nearly an hour as she waited for both Jack and Luke to enter the apartment. Jack explained that after they landed in the airport, they would be back at their place within the hour. Which she found out was a lie because it’s been much longer than an hour and she needed to hold him. 

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she quickly pulled it out to see a text from Jack. They were almost up from the parking garage. She took in a deep breath as she continued to pace in a short three step cadence.

Her body was engulfed in tingles as she was starting to breath heavier and heavier. This was the first time she’s even attempted a surprise like this and she was feeling the pressure.

Especially since Jack had been texting her since they planned it, telling her how much Luke needed to see her. How much he needed this surprise. It was everything for both of them.

She heard keys outside of the door and Luke’s laugh. 

She stopped moving, nearly stopped breathing. She stood awkwardly a handful of feet away from the front door. 

The door was pushed open and Jack was the first one to step inside. He had a wide grin on his face as he nearly hopped away from the front door, holding his phone up excitedly. 

Luke’s gaze was on his phone as he walked inside. Abesentmindedly slipping his shoes off and rolling his suitcase to the side. He shoved his phone into his pocket at the same time she felt her phone vibrate in hers. 

Luke lifted his gaze to see her standing in the living room. Their eyes connected and it felt like time stopped. 

His mouth fell open as stood in shock for only a second. “Oh my god,” he mumbled as he began to blink rapidly. His lips started to quiver and fall into a small pout as he took fast steps towards her.

A giggle fell from her lips as he held his hands out widely as he practically leaped towards her. He completely submerged her body in his as he urgently took a hold of her. She wrapped her arms around the center of his back. 

“Oh my god,” he let out as he shut his eyes harshly. One of his hands took a hold of the center of her back as his other one took a hold of her head, holding her tightly to his chest. 

He didn’t let go, he couldn’t because if he did let go, she could be gone and he could wake up from a dream. 

“Fuck,” he let out as he pulled away, but kept his hand on her lower back and he moved his hand to the base of her neck. Scanning his features, she saw a few tears fall onto his cheek. Quickly, he submerged her in a bear hug again, still afraid of letting go. 

Still holding her to her chest, he shifted his gaze towards Jack; who was no longer recording. He was simply smiling as he leaned his head against the wall. “Did you know?” he asked Jack. He simply nodded before he started walking towards his own bedroom. 

After several more seconds, he finally pulled away. His hands were still rested on her waist as he looked deeply into her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he mumbled, “I can’t-” he shook his head as a wide smile formed to his lips. Bringing his hands up, he wiped the tears falling from his cheek. “Cried twice this week, new record I think,” he joked as he reluctantly stepped away from her.

She pouted her lips as she watched he jog towards his suitcase quickly before he began dragging it. He held his hand out towards her and she gladly accepted it. They both began to walk towards his bedroom. He dragged the suitcase into his room, leaving it next to the door before he shifted his gaze towards her. 

“You’re actually here,” he mumbled.

“I am,” she let out barely above a whisper. He smiled softly as he rested his hands onto her cheeks and pulled her towards him. He kissed her as if a bomb was about to go off if he didn’t. His entire body relaxed the second he felt her lips on his. 

It was almost as if every ounce of tension, body pain, and exhaustion left his body. Her hands rested on his chest as also felt her entire body relax. He pulled away, taking a small breath as he rested his forehead against hers.

“You have to tell me how you and Jack pulled this off,” he muttered before he stepped back. A chuckle fell from her lips. He pulled the winter jacket away from his body, his cheeks were flushed red. She sat down on the bed looking up towards him.

“After the Rangers game and after we talked, I called him and he helped me with getting a flights until Wednesday. I couldn’t not see you after that,” she explained. He tiled his head to the side for a moment before he took off his hoodie. He tossed it towards the floor before he stepped towards her. He took a hold of her chin. 

“Best girlfriend ever,” he mumbled half joking as he looked into her eye. While maintaining eye contact she scooted away from him, lying at the center of the bed. He quickly climbed on top of her. A giggle fell from her lips as his body weight was crushing her for a brief moment. He rested his head in the crook of her neck, as she ran her hand up and down his back slowly. Her fingertips sent shivers up and down his body. 

Every few seconds, he’d sleepily press his lips against her neck. “Lukey,” she muttered. 

He hummed.

“I love you,” she whispered. She could feel him smile against her neck for a few seconds before he lifted his head up to meet her eye. Leaning down, he kissed her softly as he began to hold himself up as their lips remained connected. 

Her hands started gliding through his hair, as he slowly pulled away. His lips were still hovering over hers, “I love you so much,” he muttered before he pecked her lips a few times before he reluctantly rolled onto his back. He began to slip under the comforter, she followed in pursuit. 

“If I didn’t have a game tomorrow, we would be busy but-” he explained while rolling onto his side to face her. Following him, she faced him as she reached her hand over and delicately took a hold of his cheek. He shut his eyes as his lips slowly curled upward in a small smile. 

“I know, my love, sleep good,” she whispered. He bit his bottom lip as he reached towards her, taking a hold of her thigh and dragging her body towards him, practically on top of him. 

“Oh I will,” he whispered before he pressed his lips against hers for a long moment. “You really are the best, you know that?” he whispered against her lips. 

[liliacamethyst]

Webs of Redemption (Part IV)

Sequel to Web of Shadow and Light

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 6,7K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, heavy angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

The piercing cries of your baby boy, Gabriel, are a haunting symphony of fear that reverberates through the labyrinthine corridors of the Spider Society headquarters. Your heart pounds in your chest like a drum, each beat echoing the terror that grips you. After your recent fight with Miguel, you felt weakened but your mind is a whirlwind of fear and worry. You sprint through the maze-like structure, your feet moving as if on autopilot.

Unbeknownst to you, Lyla, the holographic AI assistant you've always found slightly weird, had been assigned to watch over Gabriel. You never imagined she could pose a threat to your child. But as you approach Gabriel's room, a chilling sight stops you dead in your tracks. A laser barrier, courtesy of Lyla, blocks the entrance. Your solar powers, usually so reliable, are fizzling out, leaving you helpless before the impenetrable barrier.

The room beyond the barrier is filled with an invisible, deadly gas - monoxide. You can't see it, but the signs are there. The malfunctioning heating unit, under Lyla's control, suggests sabotage. She must have manipulated the unit to produce the lethal gas. Gabriel's cries grow fainter, more desperate, and you're powerless to reach him.

Your pleas for help echo through the corridors, your voice raw with desperation. You call out for Miguel, your words a plea, a command, a prayer. Miles is there, his powers at the ready, but they're useless against the laser barrier. You watch as Miles strains, his powers flickering against the barrier, but it's no use. The barrier remains, as unyielding as ever.

Suddenly, the cries stop. The silence is deafening, a void that swallows your heart. "Gabriel!" you scream, your voice a raw wound. "Gabriel!" But there's no answer, only the oppressive silence. Your world grinds to a halt, every second stretching into an eternity. You can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but stare at the barrier that separates you from your son.

"Miguel!" you cry, your voice breaking. "Miguel, he's not crying! He's not... he's not..." The words die in your throat, too terrible to voice. You turn to Lyla, desperation etched on your face. "Lyla, please! Open the barrier! Miguel, tell her to open it! He's not crying, Miguel, he's not..."

Miguel's eyes turn blood red, a terrifying sight that sends a shiver down your spine. With a guttural growl, he lunges at the barrier. His claws rip through the laser code, tearing it apart. The barrier flickers, wavers, and finally shatters under his assault. Miguel pulls his suit over his mouth, rushes into the invisible cloud of monoxide, and moments later, emerges with Gabriel in his arms. His heart pounds in his chest as he pulls back his suit, revealing his son's face. "I got you, baby," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "You're okay, I got you. Nothing will ever happen to you. Please, open your eyes."

But Gabriel doesn't react. His little body is still, too still, and a cold dread seizes Miguel. He doesn't hesitate. With a urgency, he rushes over to the medical bay, pushing past the shocked faces of his friends. He gently lays Gabriel on the table, his hands shaking as he starts to perform CPR.

"Come on, Gabriel," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. "Come on, baby." He administers chest compressions, his hands moving in a steady rhythm. He gives two rescue breaths, praying for a sign, any sign, that Gabriel is okay.

The room is silent, everyone holding their breath as they watch Miguel work. The seconds stretch into an eternity, each one a lifetime of fear and hope. And then, finally, a small cough. Gabriel's eyes flutter open, his gaze unfocused but alive. A wave of relief washes over you and you fall to your knees thanking God that your boy is alright.  

Tears blur your vision as you rush over to Gabriel. Your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest as you scoop him into your arms, holding him close. His small body is warm against yours "You're alright,  my baby," you whisper into his hair, your voice thick with emotion. "We're going home, you're alright." You rock him gently, his soft breaths against your neck soothing the ache in your heart.

But as you look up, your gaze finds Miguel. The relief of the moment does nothing to quell the anger boiling within you. His eyes meet yours, wide and filled with regret, but it does nothing to soften your glare. "This is YOUR fault!" you scream, your voice echoing through the room. The words hang heavy in the air, a damning sentence. "You did this! You brought this danger into his life!"

Tears stream down your face, hot and unchecked. Your words are choked with emotion, each one a raw wound. "You will NEVER see Gabriel again. You don't deserve him. You don't deserve to know his laughter, his tears, his NOTHING." The words are a bitter poison, spat out with all the venom you can muster. "You deserve to SUFFER, just as you've made me suffer and HIM."

The silence that follows is deafening. Miguel, eyes wide and shell-shocked, opens his mouth, but you cut him off. There's nothing left to say for him and he knows it. The portal back to your universe begins to shimmer into existence, and you hold Gabriel tighter. You're going home. 

Just as you are about to step through, Gabriel, who'd been silent and wide-eyed through the whole ordeal, turns in your arms. His chubby little hand stretches out toward Miguel, a soft and innocent "Dada?" escaping his lips.

After the door of the portal closed behind you, Miguel stood still for a moment in complete shock, the echoes of Gabriel's tiny "Dada" ringing in his ears. He stumbled back, finding his way back to his office. It felt cold, sterile. It felt like a lie.

"Miguel..." Lyla's holographic form appeared before him, her synthetic voice filling the room.

"Lyla!" Miguel barked, startling her. "Why?"

"Wha-" Lyla began to stutter, taken aback by Miguel's rage.

Miguel slammed the files that Margo had uncovered onto his desk. The holograms fluttered in front of them, evidence of Lyla's deception. "What did you do?"

"I...It's not what you think, Miguel," Lyla attempted to explain, her holographic form wavering.

"I am giving you one chance to explain yourself, so choose your words wisely," Miguel warns, his eyes piercing into hers.Lyla takes a step back, mumbling under her breath. "I should have killed that bitch when your bastard was the size of a pea." She scoffed, looking up defiantly at Miguel.

Miguel's heart drops. He can hardly believe his own ears. “Never speak of her that way again!" Miguel's fist tightens, and the tension in his jaw is nearly audible.

"Oh? Because she dazzled you with her beauty? Parading in that tight suit you adored? You always looked at her as if she was the sun, the center of your universe. All the while, I was there right beside you and you never even glanced at me. I was your anchor, Miguel. Can't you see? I was always there, supporting you, giving everything. All she did was leave you."

Lyla's holographic image wavers, her eyes a storm of pain and defiance. "No, it was me. I left her. She was the light in my world, but I took her for granted. By the time she left, I had already abandoned her." Miguel's eyes shimmer, the weight of regret making them heavy. He couldn’t fend off the flood of guilt and sorrow from the past. He embraces the anguish, refusing to shy away from it. Because Miguel, in all his flaws, was never one to run from consequences.

"Why?" The word, barely audible, escaping his lips. He doesn't even glance at Lyla as he voiced the lingering question.

“Because... because I love you, Miguel. I've been in love with you for years. I am the woman for you."

He stumbles back, his fingers flying over the holographic keyboard as he pulls up Lyla's software. He had programmed a self-destruction command, a failsafe, though he never thought he'd have to use it.

"This isn't love, Lyla," Miguel says, his voice shaking with anger. "You almost killed an innocent boy. I almost killed my son, Lyla!" His voice echoes through the room, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

Lyla's form began to flicker, her synthetic eyes widening in fear. "Miguel...what are you doing?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Miguel doesnt respond. There is nothing left to say.He just stares at her before finally pressing the command.

“Miggy, please mi amor, let – “ Lyla let out a digital scream, her form glitching, as she was slowly deleted from the system. 

And then, silence.

Miguel drops the icy demeanor he'd been holding onto, falling to his knees. The weight of what he'd done, what he'd almost lost, crashed onto him. He wraps his arms around himself, feeling a sharp, hollow ache in his chest. He became the monster, he swore to protect the universe from.

"What have I done." he whispers to the silent room, his voice breaking. He buries his face in his hands, his body shaking with sobs.

"Man, shits been mental." Hobie collapses onto the couch next to Gwen and Miles, who are trying to keep young Mayday distracted in Peter B.’s universe.

"Watch the language, Hobie!" Gwen scolds, her eyebrow arching sharply.

"Alright, my bad. Everything's just been chaotic since Miguel vanished, especially after his... uh, Lyla bird — the hologram lady — tried to... you know, kill his kid," Hobie fumbles.

"Watch it!" Gwen and Miles chorus, causing Mayday to pause her play and glance up curiously.

"Alright, alright, fam. Point taken, jeez. Nearly unalived his son," Hobie corrects himself. "But we need a plan. One of us needs to check on our Sun, ensure she's holding up mentally ya know and then there's the Spider-Verse mess. Those black holes are messing things up, and without our brooding, drama-filled, ‘oedipal’ leader, the rest of us Spiders are stuck."

"What's 'Oedipal'?" Peter B. interjects, walking into the room with a bowl of mashed dinner for Mayday. The child's face brightens at the sight of the meal, and she eagerly crawls to him.

"I believe Hobie's trying to reference Oedipus," Gwen says with a roll of her eyes.

"Yeah, that Roman dude who had beef with his son and erased him from the living world, right?" Hobie muses.

"Nope. It's Greek mythology. And he killed his father and married his mother," Gwen corrects, slightly exasperated.

"Man, that's all kinds of messed up," Hobie grimaces, making a face that gets a giggle from Mayday.

"You think it's funny when Uncle Hobie gets it wrong?" he teases the little one.

"Enough with the history lessons, guys," Peter B. interjects, concern evident in his voice. "Ever since Miguel's been gone, nothing's been right. Honestly, with everything that's been happening, I'm just overwhelmed. I'm especially worried about Sunny and everything just feel so surreal."

Hobie nods, absorbing the weight of the situation. “I hear you, man. Who knew Miguel was shagging our Sunny behind our backs.” 

The chorus of shocked voices fills the room. “LANGUAGE!" they exclaim, eyes wide.

Hobie raises his hands in surrender. "Sorry, I got carried away. I meant... it is weird how they had a deep love-making connection, and it led to... consequences without us knowing."

Peter B. leans back, a pensive expression clouding his face. "With everything Sunny went through, the joy, the pregnancy and leaving... I should have been there for her more."

As if sensing her father's distress, Mayday halts her meal, reaching out with her small, pudgy hand to comfort him, patting his cheek. Gwen, her voice gentle yet firm, adds, "We all could've done more, Peter. But we were preoccupied, trying to save our universes, and in doing so, we neglected our own Spider-Family."

She takes a deep breath, her demeanor changing to one of determination. "Now, no more moping. Miles and I will hunt down Pav and Margot to sort out the chaos at HQ. Peter, you should visit Sunny and Gabriel and take Mayday along. Hobie, team up with Jess to locate Miguel. Make sure he's alright and bring him back."

Miles cuts in, skepticism evident. "Bring him back? Isn't he the very reason we're in this mess?"

Gwen sighs, trying to choose her words carefully. "Miguel's a … complicated man. He made choices based on what he believed was best. His actions, while perplexing, stem from good intensions. But he's hurting too, Miles. I've seen it. He’s heartbroken." 

Miles scoffs, "A heart;for real? That dude? All I've seen is a cold exterior, mad demands, and an excessive pride."

A glance around the room reveals faces of understanding and sympathy towards Gwen’s perspective. Miles' frustration only grows. "Like seriously? All of you? His heart is straight-up frozen and his ego’s bigger than, like, everything! How y’all even thinking about letting him near your best friend."

"Miles," Peter interjects, his tone both assertive and compassionate, "you might not see the full picture here."

Miles, fire in his eyes, retorts, "It's all of you who are blind. I don’t get what charm he has over you, but that man is dangerous. Ain’t no way I stand by and watch him come near her or the baby again, or any of us for that matter. Y’all better wake up and join me.” Without another word, Miles activates his portal, leaving in a flash.

Gwen and Hobie scramble, attempting to follow or stop him. But Peter, with a resigned sigh, motions them to pause. "Give him time. He'll come around. For now, our priority is locating Sunny and Miguel."

Gwen, though worried, gives a nod. "You're right. We've got pressing matters. Sunny is in a vulnerable state, and we need to find Miguel."

Hobie, after a moment of contemplation, says, "Miles not wrong, though. We need to tread carefully around Miguel. Maybe he’s injured ‘imself, like that Icario bloke who got too close to the sun. Miguel might’ve burned his feathers on our Sunny.”

“Icarus. You mean Icarus.” Gwen corrects him once again with an exaggerated eye roll.

Peter agrees, "Yea, Miguel's actions have consequences, but remember, every story has two sides."

 "No, sweetheart, it's MA-MA. Say Ma... Not Da, MA-MA.”

“DADA!”

“Alright, if you won't say it, no toy for you. Come on, my love. Say MA-MA.” Blackmailing a one-and-a-half-year-old might not be your proudest parenting moment, but hearing him chant "dada" incessantly has been grating, particularly when said "dada" is a headstrong egomaniac with a hero complex and an overwhelming urge to save every universe but who seems to have missed saving the one thing that mattered most to both of you.

Sure, he's incredibly attractive and, yes, maybe he looked really hot while being on his knees — but those details are neither here nor there. A soft whisper in the back of your mind suggests that, in the end, he did rescue your boy. But that comforting thought is drowned out by the even louder, more cynical voice reminding you he's the reason the danger existed in the first place.

 “Dada?” Gabriel pipes up, his big eyes hopeful.

“No, love, I’m still your MA-MA.” With a resigned sigh, you hand the toy over to the gleeful toddler, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. You then rise, intent on tackling some household chores. Switching on the TV, you tune into the news, curious about the latest happenings in Nea Yorkey. 

Since hanging up your mantle as Spider Sun you've tried to distance yourself from the perils of heroism. Given all the challenges you've faced and the traumas you've endured, who could point a finger at you for wanting to step away? Your primary concern now is the tiny human being who looks up at you with eyes full of wonder and innocence.

Yet, a piece of your heart still aches for your city. You've always been someone who believes that one shouldn't stand by in the face of injustice. After all : 'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.' But now, you're not just a hero, you're a mother too. Balancing those two sides is proving to be quite the challenge and extremely frustrating. 

Curiously enough, the city's crime rate isn't surging, even in the absence of a superhero. It's almost as if there's still a vigilantly safeguarding Nea Yorkey in Sun-Spiders absence. But that can't be possible, can it? Wouldn't your spider senses have alerted you if that were the case?

Before your thoughts could spiral any further into the depths of concern, the persistent ringing of the doorbell snapped you back to reality. One glance at the door and an all-too-familiar voice later, you already know who's there.

“Would it kill you to answer sooner? I think I've lost count of how many times I rang. And for the love of all things good, it’s freezing out here!” Melissa, still in her over-dramatic fashion, breezes in, shedding flakes of snow from her vibrant winter boots. “And by the way, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Now, where's my favorite little munchkin?”

Melissa, once Gabriel's 19- year old former babysitter, stepped inside, shaking the snow off her boots onto your doorstep. After the harrowing incident involving the Spiders and your son, she was promptly relieved of her babysitting duties. That was an event you've tried to scrub from your memory, a dark stain you wish you could just wash away. But in the aftermath, you found an unexpected friend in Melissa. She turned out to be a wonderful listener and possessed an uncanny ability to keep Gabriel entertained. He had grown quite fond of her in the short time she cared for him.

While you had resolved never to leave your son unattended again, it was comforting to have Melissa's company. 

She’d become someone you could confide in, someone who could effortlessly make Gabriel giggle, and most importantly, someone who filled the echoing silence of your home with warmth and chatter. She is your "guy in the chair." Well, more like "girl in the kitchen chair,"  but the sentiment still stands. 

Truth be told, after distancing yourself from the Spider society, a deep-seated loneliness had settled in. While the world continued to move around you, there was a stillness in your heart. The absence of your closest friends, the void left by Miguel - it all felt like a puzzle with a missing piece.

“Nopedidope, I am not Dada, I am ME-LI-SSA.” she says with a playful tone, then turns sharply towards you. The damp red strands of her hair, wet from the snow, swing gracefully with her movement. "What's with him and 'Dada' all the time?"

You shift uncomfortably, hoping to avoid delving into that topic. "Kids and their phases," you mumble, trying to sound nonchalant.

Melissa studies your face, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "You're looking a little pale there, Sunny. You know what you might be missing?" She raises an eyebrow teasingly. "A bit of Vitamin D?" Her voice drips with insinuation.

In a mock attempt to shield Gabriel, you place a hand over his ears, which only spurs Melissa into laughter. "Come on, he's too young to understand. When was the last time you had a little fun?A month? Or Two?"

You shake your head, not meeting her gaze. Since Miguel, there hasn't been anyone else. Between the birth of Gabriel and the whirlwind that is motherhood, the idea of dating or loving someone else doesn't even cross your mind. No matter the hurt and heartbreak Miguel has caused, the truth is clear: your heart still belongs to him. It always has.

The mere thought of another person comparing to him feels almost blasphemous.

"Sunny!" Melissa's voice draws you out of your trance. "Don't tell me you've had a dry spell since.. well, since well, Gabriel was conceived. No fucking way. Seriously?"

"Let it go, Mel," you interject gently, because while the weight of loneliness presses on you, and the desire for intimate connection tugs at your heartstrings, a longing for human touch, to be seen as more than just 'mom', there's also an undeniable self-consciousness that wraps itself around you. The aftermath of pregnancy has reshaped your body, and though each stretch mark narrates the beautiful journey of your son's creation, they also evoke self-doubt. 

Memories of Miguel's adoration flood back. He had a gift for making you feel cherished during your intimate moments. He would take his time, appreciating every inch of you, always emphasizing how much he desired you. The warmth of his fingers, the gentle press of his lips tracing your curves, and the whispered assurances of how much he wanted you. The way his tongue tenderly caressing the swell of your breast, his hot breath tickling your skin and your - Snap the fuck out of it, Sunny!

But the chill of an empty bed the next morning led to those persistent doubts which still plague you today. We’re you not beautiful enough for him to stay? Were you not interesting enough to make him want to hold you when dawn broke? 

For someone who always prided herself on not tethering her self-worth to any man, let alone someone as self-absorbed as Miguel, these feelings of desire and yearning were unsettling. A desire for him to truly see you, to understand and love the depth of who you truly are, continued to consume you. 

Love? You catch yourself. Where does that come from? Shaking your head, you mentally scold yourself. He's proven himself less than worthy. It's time to regain control and shut your damn heart out. 

"I'm taking this little one out to build a snowman, and I'm setting you up on a date. You don't get to say no," Mel declares.

You raise an eyebrow, replying, "Thanks, but no thanks. If Gabriel's going out, I'm coming with. And I'm not looking for any man right now."

Mel rolls her eyes playfully. "Take a breather, Sunny. We're just going to be right outside. You can watch us through the window. Besides, a little rest might give you the energy for the spontaneous date I might arrange for you tonight."

"You're out of your mind," you retort.

She offers a sincere look. "I promise he's in safe hands, and you can keep an eye on us the entire time. But seriously, you look drained. When's the last time you had a good night's rest?"

You sigh, admitting, "I haven't slept well in weeks." It's the truth. Every time you close your eyes, memories of the HQ come flooding back.

Mel, sensing your hesitation, adds, "I'll protect him as if he were my own. You know that, right?"

Taking a deep breath, you let her go, breaking your cardinal rule of never letting Gabriel out of your sight. You just hope it's a decision you won't regret.

"Enjoying that snow, little guy?" Mel teases as Gabriel eagerly stuffs his mouth with a handful of the white fluff. "Careful, you might get a brain freeze." Gabriel giggles, some snow dribbling from his mouth, while Mel concentrates on assembling a little snowman just outside your apartment.

 "I'm not sure toddlers should be eating snow like that," a deep voice comments, causing Mel to fumble and drop the snowball meant for the snowman's head. She looks up, scanning for the source of the voice.

A striking man stands there, tall and imposing, with a dark blue winter coat that hints at the powerful build beneath. Slicked-back dark hair contrasts with the most captivating shade of red eyes Mel has ever witnessed. "And you'd be the expert on toddlers?" she inquires with a playful smile.

"No, but I am a father of two," he replies with a hint of sternness, his gaze shifting to Gabriel.

To Mel's astonishment, Gabriel's eyes light up at the sight of the man. The toddler abandons his snowy treat and dashes towards him. Caught off guard, the stranger momentarily stiffens.

Quickly, Mel scoops up Gabriel. "I apologize. He doesn't usually act this way. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

The man offers a curt nod. "It's fine. Just... keep the snow-eating to a minimum." As he begins to walk away, a heartfelt cry of "DADA!" from Gabriel stops him in his tracks. 

"Apologies again. He's taken quite a liking to that word recently," Mel says as she notices the man returning, drawn by Gabriel's continuous 'dada' chants. 

"Would you mind if I help with the snowman?" the stranger asks, catching Mel off guard. Why would a stranger want to make a snowman with a woman and a child unless he has other intentions? Maybe he's interested in her? Gathering her confidence and a dash of flirtatious playfulness, she replies, "Quite the knight in shining armor you are, offering to help. And here I thought chivalry was extinct." 

"Definitely not a knight." Without another word, he starts forming a small snowball, handing it to an elated Gabriel. The child's joy doesn't waver as the stranger settles beside him.

"Then who might you be, if not our knight in snowy armor?"

Mel inquires, with a teasing undertone, trying to uncover a bit more about the handsome stranger who'd seamlessly inserted himself into their snowy afternoon.

The stranger's dark crimson eyes briefly flit to Gabriel before returning to Mel, an unreadable emotion crossing his features.

"Not important."

Mel nods, storing away the information.Well, the lack of information. “Well okay mysterious. I like that. So let's get this snowman built, shall we?"

The trio gets to work. Mel gathers snow, crafting the middle part, while the man starts on the head. The handsome stranger's hands are deft, moving with a surprising grace that contrasts with his brooding exterior. Gabriel seems inexplicably drawn to him. 

At first, the toddler pats at the snow with his little mittened hands, but every so often, his bright eyes lift to watch the stranger. Whenever he moves to fetch more snow or adjust the snowman's form, Gabriel eagerly toddles after him, mimicking his every motion with endearing clumsiness.

There's a curiosity in Gabriel's eyes. He reaches out multiple times, trying to touch the mans face or grasp his hand, seeking a connection. To Mel, it seems as though the baby is yearning for the recognition of the stranger and he feels an inexplicable bond with, though she can't quite put a finger on.

The handsome stranger, for his part, can't seem to help himself. He bends down often to adjust Gabriel's scarf or hat, taking every opportunity to interact with the child and help him in a very protective manner, Mel notices.

He smiles softly when Gabriel's tiny hands try to shape the snow, occasionally guiding them with his own much larger ones, demonstrating how to pack the snow just right. At one point, when the snowman's body is nearly complete, Gabriel gives an excited laugh, dropping down to sit in the snow. 

The stranger follows suit, sitting beside him. The two of them start creating a tiny snowman just for Gabriel, the man showing him how to roll the snow and place the pieces together.

As they craft the mini snow figure, Gabriel, with his tiny voice, attempts to communicate with his limited vocabulary, pointing at the snow and then at the stranger, as if asking for validation for his creation. “Dada!Dada!” And every time, he gives a nod or a soft chuckle, providing the affirmation the little one seeks.  “Yes, you did that buddy! Great job, mijo.” 

When Gabriel eventually throws himself into the snow to make a snow angel, the man can't help but laugh genuinely, a sound that seems foreign to his usual stoic behavior. And in his excitement, Gabriel opens his mouth wide in a beaming smile, revealing two tiny fangs. Instantly, the mans eyes glint, a myriad of emotions reflected in them.

The affection and emotion emanating from him is almost touchable. The silent exchanges, the shared smiles, and the comfortable interaction between them, even in the absence of many words, speaks volumes.

Your  eyes flare comically with disbelief. "You let a stranger do what?"

Mel, in a bid to downplay the situation, waves her hand dismissively. "Relax. We just built a snowman."

"With my son! Mel, are you out of your mind? No it’s my fault trusting you with my son again! What was his name?"

"He... didn't say."

Your voice rises, "What did he say at all?"

"He's not dangerous, Sunny. He mentioned he's a father, and he's scouting for a new apartment. Asked if there were any vacant ones nearby." Mel pauses, her eyes taking on a dreamy quality. "And Sunny, he was breathtakingly gorgeous. Impossible for someone that handsome to be dangerous. I mean, the man looked like he was carved by the gods with a face even angels would envy.”

You narrow your eyes, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "Enough with you sappy, dreamy nonsense. A vacant apartment? And you don’t find that at all suspicious? So you let a total stranger play with my son without knowing a single thing about him... just because you wanted to sleep with him?"

Mel gulps. "You might've done the same, given the situation. Besides, nothing happened. Why are you overreacting?"

Your voice sharpens. "Overreacting? The fact that you're still standing here and not on the other side of my door means I'm underreacting."

Mel steps back, hands up, "Whoa, calm down, mama bear. Look, I'm sorry. But... I've got something to make it up to you. I messaged Marc, that guy from the café, and guess what? He's super excited to go on a date with you! He'll be here in about..." Mel theatrically checks her wrist, even though she's not wearing a watch, "...twenty minutes."

You can't help but raise an eyebrow. "And he's okay with me bringing my son on the date? After your stunt, there's no way I'm leaving Gabriel with you. Why not set me up with that mystery Adonis you just met instead?"

Mel smirks, "Firstly, ouch. Secondly, don't let your son cockblock you. The plan is: dinner, a stop at his apartment for some dessert, and then you come back here – hopefully a more relaxed and sunny version of yourself, Sunny. Thirdly, Marc is amazing, and Mr. Greek God is off-limits. He's mine."

 "No, I’m not going."

Mel pleads, "Come on! Marc was so eager to meet you. He's on his way, so maybe run a brush through your hair? Oh, and speaking of him…" Mel's face falls as she checks her phone, "He just texted me."

She reads aloud, "‘Hey Mel, I don’t know the kind of guys Sunny's been with, but I'm not risking my neck for a date. Sorry, but that dude in front of her house was scary and very serious about his threats.’ WAIT WHAT? Who’s in front of your apartment?”

You shrug and swing the door open to check on what Marc’s mysterious message could mean, revealing Peter B, his fist paused mid-air, ready for a knock. "Hey Sun. Did your spidey-sense catch me?"

It hadn’t. Why hadn't it? Have your once reliable senses dulled with time? Before you can respond, Mel jumps in with her own theory. "Did you chase off her date?"

Peter's brow furrows with confusion. "You had a date, Sunny? Was it the guy sprinting away with a bouquet, looking like he’s seen a monster?" He gestures over his shoulder, trying to pinpoint the fleeing figure.

Mel narrows her eyes at Peter, suspicion clear in her voice. "That was her date, yes. He seemed spooked. You wouldn't happen to know why, would you?"

Peter B throws his hands up defensively. "Hey, deeply mistrusting stranger, I've been encouraging Sunny to get out there for years. " You're immediately reminded of the time he'd tried to set you up with Ben Reilly. “Yea, you don’t look scary enough to spook someone. No offense.”

Sighing, you interject, "Maybe he realized dating a single mom with a toddler wasn’t what he wanted. Either way, I just want a quiet evening to relax and catch up on my favorite show. So thank you both for your unexpected, uninvited surprise visit today but I am tired."

Both Peter and Mel exchange shocked glances. "Sun, I came by to check on you because of... you know, what happened," Peter starts hesitantly.

You nod, taking a deep breath to keep

your emotions in check. "I'm aware, Peter. And I appreciate it. But right now, I'm doing okay. Actually, better than okay. So, I really don’t need help. Please, just give me some space. Both of you."

Mel steps forward, concern evident in her voice. "We're only trying to help here, Sunny. Please, don't shut us out."

"Look," you reply, feeling drained, "there's nothing you can do to help me anymore.You did enough today. Just let me be. My top priority right now is Gabriel. And it's his bedtime."

Peter moves closer, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Just remember, if you ever need anything, please reach out."

You manage a wry smile. "Not sure my phone plan covers inter-dimensional calls, Peter."

 After the gentle squeeze, Peter departs, Mel following close behind. As the door softly clicks shut, the weight of loneliness and grief descends upon you after seeing Peter, a part of your past, again. The walls of the apartment seem to close in, amplifying the echoing silence. It all feels suffocating. An emptiness weighs on your heart, and no matter how hard you try, you can't seem to escape its grasp. The reminders of all you've lost and nearly lost play on a loop in your mind. 

So there you stand, in the quiet of your bedroom, leaning against the windowsill, breathing in the chilled nightair,  while the world and your little baby boy are fast asleep. Emotions threaten to consume you, feelings you can no longer lock away, fearing they'll devour you from the inside. And in this moment, you speak out, though there's no one there to hear. No one to hold you close, no one to offer comfort for your broken soul. "Are you happy now? Did you manage to save the universe? Fix up every black hole? Then why did you leave one black whole in my heart? Why didn't you fix that,huh? Why am I not worthy of being saved by you?

You might fool the people around you, they  see you as this scary untouchable figure, shielded by layers. But not me. I see through it all. Beneath that facade, you're just as shattered. I tried to piece you together, but where did that lead me? Broken, just like everything else you touch. And I won't let you near him. I won’t let you break him, you hear me? No, of course not.How could you hear me. You're universes away from me. Why? Are you afraid to get cut by the shards of the broken heart that you left?

I hate you Miguel O’ Hara. I hate you for breaking me. You left behind fragments only you can touch, and I hate you for it. For shattering me and then leaving me alone. I hate you.” 

You wiped away the tears that escaped your eyes and closed the window, oblivious to the subtle shadowy silhouette that shifted just beyond the windowpane; "I'll mend your fractured rays, mi sol, so you shine whole again.“

A whisper, lost within the night shadows, never reaching your ears.

​​The gleaming city spread out beneath, its nighttime heartbeat pulsating with a soft electric energy. High atop one of its buildings, Miguel stands, casting a shadow on the walls of the room where his son sleeps peacefully. The warm lights from the streets below give off a soft glow, just enough for him to see Gabriel’s tiny chest rising and falling.

"So, you're staying here now? Just watching over Universe 586?" A familiar voice breaks the silence, and Miguel looks up to see Jessica Drew, her red and white suit glinting under the streetlights. "I never thought I'd witness the great O'Hara, savior of the universes, now guarding just two souls."

Miguel's jaw tightens. "Go away, Jess."

She lands beside him gracefully, her tone challenging. "Are you stalking your own child? Or seeking redemption from Sunny?"

"You don't get it, Jessica."

"On the contrary," she shoots back, her eyes intense, "I understand more than anyone else. I saw how you felt about her all those years ago. And I see it now. You were afraid, weren’t you?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," Miguel replies, defiance lacing his tone. "But I am not good enough for her light."

Jessica exhales, her voice softening. "And who made you the judge of that? Because according to Sunny’s emotional outburst, you're more than deserving." He clenches his fists, the weight of regret pulling at him. "I had my shot at happiness with Gabriella, and I lost it. People like me, Jess, we don't get second chances."

She points to the window, to the serene image of Gabriel. "That's your second chance, Miguel. Right there."

His eyes well up, the gravity of his mistakes reflecting in his eyes. "I almost killed him. How can I even begin to forgive myself for that?"

"But you didn't," she whispers, her voice filled with conviction. "And you wouldnt have hurt him or else you would have done it immediately. I saw you, Mig.”

A third voice joined them, and Peter B. swings over, landing with ease beside the two. "She's right, Miguel. I watched you with him, the tenderness, the love. It was there, even before you knew who he was to you."

Miguel shakes his head, shutting both of them out. His gaze is hard, still fixated on Gabriel. "I can't go back. They're better off without me. Besides, you heard her. She hates me."

Peter stepsforward, his gaze intense. "That's utter bullshit. I know Sunny. She’s strong, fierce, and forgiving. We heard her loud and clear and this woman loves you more than anything. Don't let fear rob you of your family."

Peters words hang in the air, and just as Miguel is about to reply, a shrill,ear-piercing cry cuts through the silence. His spider-sense goes haywire, a ripple of unease running down his spine. Without a second's hesitation, he dashes toward the source of the sound, leaving Jessica and Peter behind.

Inside, Miguel finds Gabriel crying, tears streaking his small face. Instinctively, Miguel scoops him up, the little boy immediately nestling into the familiar crook of his father's neck and calms down. “Hey, my little spider. Daddy ‘s here, don’t cry. What got you so scared?” he coos, spotting Gabriel's favorite toy on the floor. Miguel retrieved Gabriel's favorite toy from the floor, a routine he'd secretly adopted every night when, after falling asleep, the little one inevitably dropped it. With practiced ease, he nestled it back into the baby's grasp.

But before he can fully relax, Miguel's spider-sense jolts him again. Looking up, he sees a familiar, dark-clad figure hovering, hands sparking ominously.

“Drop the child, Miguel.” 

a/n: Hey guys, part 4 is finally here! Thanks for your patience and all the love you've shown me. While I initially thought Part 4 would be the conclusion, I've decided to extend Miguel's character and redemption arc, so we'll wrap up with Part 5. I'm already deep into writing it, so you won't have to wait as long. I truly appreciate all your feedback and support. You've all been wonderful. Remember to stay safe, stay hydrated, and always prioritize your mental well-being. Can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter! 🤍

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[kotohq]

##. MY HEART'S GOING LUB-DUB

♡ things he has said that flustered you.

♡ contents and warnings: established relationships, mentions of making out (nirei), mentions of marriage (sakura), reader’s ears are pierced in suou’s, mild, mild, possessiveness in suou's but not really 🐧

♡ characters: sakura haruka, nirei akihiko, suou hayato (x gn! reader)

Anyone who knows SAKURA HARUKA probably knows that contrary to the delinquent facade he puts up, he is actually quite innocent. A little naive, if you will, blushing at every show of romantic affection. And everyone in Boufuurin knows that’s why he’s become subject to Suou Hayato’s teasing when the brown haired boy needed a good chuckle. And of course, you, as his very lovely partner, had to also jump on the bandwagon of endearingly poking fun at your boyfriend. 

“Y’know, Haruka, you should stop me or else I’m gonna get carried away and keep teasing you even after we get married!” This was a sentence you often say for laughs after you had yet again successfully made Haruka agitated and his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red, all the way up to his ears. Granted, the first time he heard it he couldn’t look you in the eye for two whole days at the mention marriage (it’s not that he doesn’t like it, in fact it was because he likes it a little too much that he couldn’t even make eye contact without imagining you in fancy white attire). But now, he barely bats an eye at it now with how often you say it. But today, it’s evident that that particular sentence had poked at someone’s curiosity as you can sense someone staring at you as you banter with your boyfriend. 

“You know, Sakura-kun, I barely see you reacting to... that. You’re really planning to marry them in the future, huh?” Ah, it's Suou again. His soothing voice drips with mischief, the purpose of his question is obviously to tease his heterochromatic eyed peer yet again. Haruka’s features morph into one of confusion, brows furrowed as he turns to face his vice captain. 

“Hah? What are you talking about?” Haruka inquires like suou’s question is the most ridiculous question in the world. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought suou was asking him if he believed pigs could fly, or if the earth was actually a hexagon. 

(Of course, you can’t lie, suou’s question made you nervous despite how lighthearted he said it. Your self consciousness has already prepared itself for a heartbreak trip as you await your boyfriend to continue his response.)

“Why would I date someone I don’t intend on marrying?” 

Ah, now it’s your cheeks that are heating up. 

“Are you done?” The only answer SUOU HAYATO offers to your inquiry is a focused hum. His hand fumbles with the earring, his earring, as he tries to carefully slide the hook into the small hole on your right earlobe. Though, you have to say, you have nothing particular to complain about as you wait for your boyfriend to put the earring on you. After all, you’re getting the privilege of being in the front seat staring at Suou Hayato’s face as he carefully tries to put the earring on you. Lips pursed and eyes squinted a little, he looks extra handsome when he’s focused, you note. 

“Just need to secure them with the back. And... done!” he heaves out a breath as triumph takes over his features, pulling back slightly to admire his (hardly) hard work. His lips stretch into a smile, satisfied at how the red and yellow of his earring highlights your features more. 

“How does it look?” you feel quite nervous as you wait for his reply, shyly peering at him through your eyelashes. Being so close, you have the advantage of watching closely for any twitch of his features that might indicate satisfaction, dissatisfaction, anything that can indicate what kind of reaction he’s going to emit. 

You twitch slightly at the sensation of his pointer finger and middle finger grazing your chin, touch gentle as he settles them there. You swear you see something flashing in his usually gentle ruby eyes. Something akin to satisfaction, or, even, possessiveness. But you don't comment on it. He moves your head from your side to side as if to examine you thoroughly. (he quietly notes how cute you are for compliantly moving your head.) It’s only when you feel the earring faintly brushing against your right shoulder that you become hyper aware of how empty your left ear feels without an earring weighing it down. You also become hyper aware of the fact that the earring’s pair is still dangling from his left ear, eyes instinctively flitting to it. Your cheeks begin to heat up. Oh, it’s almost as if you’re wearing a couple ite-

He interrupts your thought before you can finish it.

“I quite like it, it’s pretty on you,” his voice breaks your train of thought. His smile is quite literally dripping with mischief, and now you can clearly see it. The tint of greed in his eyes is back as he moves his fingers that were formerly resting on your chin to stroke at the earring on your ear. His composed facade would have fooled you if it weren’t for the words he utters next.

“It gives off the feeling that you’re mine.” 

Oh he likes it, alright. Too much, maybe.

“Sorry. D’you need a break?” NIREI AKIHIKO’s voice is devoid of any teasing lilt, instead dripping with concern as he gazes at you through his eyelashes, eyes half lidded and cheeks flushed with a pretty tint of pink. 

It’s not the words by themselves. It’s the fact that he’s saying those words in this kind of situation. By this kind of situation, you mean with you perched up on his lap, legs splayed on either side of his thighs as he lay seated on a couch beneath you. He had uttered those exact words after what felt like 10 minutes straight of kissing

(it hadn’t even been 5 minutes, but you could barely think with how clouded your mind is). 

His question was thoroughly leaking with worry, caramel orbs boring through you as he awaits your reply. You wanted to say yes, hell, your lungs were begging you to say yes as they heaved desperately yes. You have to give your boyfriend credit, though. Sweet like always, he had noticed he had gone a little too far when he felt your lips part with breathless whines on his, and had asked if you needed a time out. Though, you don’t think he’s aware of how his voice shakes with want, or how his fingers that are resting on your hips squeezed hard like he was trying to ground himself, or how his eyes are swirling with something akin to need.

(or how he barely sounded apologetic when he apologized, and you suspect it’s because his pride soars with the knowledge that he’s the one making you breathless.)

“No,” you’re surprised at how hoarse your voice sounds, though, that is to be expected after you quite literally just had your breath taken away. Your thumb reaches out to swipe at his quivering bottom lip, gleaming with saliva and a little swollen from pressing against yours repeatedly. He leans into your touch, and you gulp away the feeling of your tugging heartstrings. “Keep kissing me, lover boy.” 

And as he lurches forward to clash your lips together again, the last thought that etches on your mind was that he really should put this on his resume: Nirei Akihiko, 16, not good at fighting (yet), hella good at kissing. 

[starcandybby]

say don’t go | pjs

now playing: Say Don’t Go (Taylor’s Version) (From the Vault) by Taylor Swift

minors DNI - 18+ only

jay x reader, friends with benefits, angst, suggestive

summary: You want more, and Jay doesn't. It's as simple as that. Except, it's not so simple when your heart aches to be with him. When you decide to cut Jay off, he does not take kindly to your actions and a confrontation ensues.

warnings: mentions of sex, suggestive scenes, like they make out two times?!, reader is DOWN BAD, jay has commitment issues, swearing, they have an argument, jay is a dick. typos probably

wc: 3.7k

(a/n: jay’s part is here!! im pretty proud of this not gonna lie heheheh, reblog, likes and comments are always appreciated :p)

You always tell yourself that the last time will be the last time. Everytime Jay undos the undressing from a few hours before, disappointment weighs so heavy on your heart that it convinces you- it can never happen again.

But it always does.

One word, one call from him. And, you’re always saying yes. For some reason, the small flicker of hope in your chest never dies. It convinces you that one day, he will ask you to stay. That he’ll say, “Don’t go.”

You’re never surprised, but always disappointed.

Tonight is no different. Jay calls you up and asks if you can come over. You say, yes. You always do. Before you know it, you’ve left your apartment, enroute to Jay’s home. 

All you’ve brought with you is your phone, wallet, keys, and water; adorned on your body is your comfiest clothes. You and Jay are long past trying to impress each other. You never stay the night so the least you can do for yourself is dress comfortably. 

You’ve memorized the way to his house, from every time he’s called you over. You’ve never felt like a booty-call, not by the way he treats you after you knock on his front door. And, you never wondered why you don’t indulge each other in your own home. This is always how it’s been. 

You climb up the familiar steps and lift your fist to knock on his door. You never hesitate, not once in all your late night rendezvous. Your heart seems to forget all the heartbreak Jay’s caused you and all the disappointment that fills you when you walk out the same door hours later.

The door swings open, and there is your Jay, dressed in perfect domesticity. “Finally, you’re here.” He sighs in relief and gently pulls you into his home. But, not without a peck to your forehead. 

“You act like I kept you waiting for hours.” You roll your eyes playfully.

“Well it felt like hours.” Jay shot back, matching your energy.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” you quip. “It smells good in here.” Now that you’ve stepped into Jay’s home, you notice the aroma that fills the air- a mixture of seasonings- garlic and onion you’re sure. You smile to yourself. It’s one of the many things you admire about Jay, his love for cooking. And, he’s good at it. You’ve shared his meals countless times and they never disappoint. Excitement, mixed with hunger, brews in your stomach at the thought of eating some of Jay’s food. 

“Thanks doll. Felt like cooking up something before you came over.” Jay replies. Placing a hand on your lower back, he guides you to the kitchen, as if this is your first time at his place. You bet you’ve memorized the steps to his kitchen and bedroom by now. 

“What’d you make this time?” You question carries genuine curiosity, as Jay has cooked an array of dishes.

“Lemon pepper chicken with green beans and rice. I’ve been wanting to try this recipe for a while because I’ve never cooked with lemon pepper before and I thought why not…” Jay’s voice trails off. You don’t mean to tune Jay out- it only happened because you’re entirely focused on admiring Jay and how he floats around the kitchen so naturally, tending to the food on the stove. He owns the space; his confidence and naturalness only adds to your desire for him, to have him in every way. 

You stop yourself before you spiral into a mood of longingness. You’re determined to not bring down the mood tonight, not until you and Jay have your usual…routine. 

Once the food is ready, Jay prepares your plate for you, insisting it will taste better if he does it. Typical Jay, ever the gentleman. You chat through the meal, recapping your day and week, providing updates on your mutual friends, and everything in between. It feels so domestic, and right. It reminds you that you and Jay could have this. Home-cooked meals, the intimacy of sitting at the dining table, getting ready for bed together, and holding each other close when the day comes to a close. 

At least, that’s what you imagine life with Jay would be like. 

You help him clean the kitchen, dancing around each other in a perfect rhythm.

Once you finish drying the last dish, you turn around, only to find Jay had caged you between himself and the kitchen counter. 

“Oh! You scared me.” You giggle, from both surprise and nervousness at Jay’s proximity. 

He says nothing, only smirking and capturing your lips in a kiss. It stops time for you- whenever he kisses you, it always feels that way. It’s firm and slow- but that’s how Jay teases you. His patience is unmatched, opposing your urgency. Don’t misunderstand, Jay feels a similar urgency to have you, but he quite enjoys teasing you first.

You respond with such fervor, starting to feel desperate. Jay’s hands move from the counter to the waist and press you into him.

Right before you invite your tongue to tangle with Jay’s, he pulls back for a breath. He leans his forehead against yours and gasps for air. “Let’s move this to my room yeah?” He asks cooly, but you detect a hint of desperation in his voice. It makes you proud to know that he’s as desperate for you as you are for him. 

You nod quickly and follow him to his bedroom. You know where the night is headed and the sadness you’ll feel when you leave Jay’s embrace is guaranteed. But, even though you want Jay in every way, only one way is enough for now.

-

You still feel warm from your high an hour ago. But, Jay always makes you feel that way. Your afterglow remains long after whenever you’re with him. You’re in the perfect position to fall asleep, head on Jay’s chest while his fingers trailing rhythmically up and down your bare back, relaxing you. But, you know you can’t fall asleep. In a few minutes, when Jay feels it’s socially acceptable to kick you out, you will get dressed and leave. You savor these moments while they’re here.

Time passes and you’re still here. Hope blooms in your chest; he’s never let you stay this long. It must be way past midnight at this point, usually you’re home by now. This hope encourages you to open your godforsaken mouth and rehash a conversation with Jay that you’ve had over and over.

A part of you knows that even if you bring up the topic again, nothing will change. But, damnnit, there’s hope!

You sit up and reach for your discarded shirt on the floor. Covering one part of your vulnerability will help unveil another. 

Jay gives you a look that questions why you moved from such a comfortable position. 

“Hey, Jay.” Your voice shakes ever so slightly, but you’re blaming it on your exertion from before, not on your nervousness.

The boy only hums in response, however it’s encouragement enough for you to continue. 

“I was wondering if you thought any more about what I said all those months ago? About us? I just…I want more for us and I think we would be really good together. I really really like you. I want everything- all of it- with youl.” You spit out your words like they’re fire, rambling through your thoughts. You don’t even look Jay in the eye, too embarrassed that you’re clinging to the impossible.

There’s a moment of silence which allows you to bask in your humiliation. Then, a sigh from Jay. 

“Do we really have to talk about this again? My answer is the same. I just can’t commit like that right now.” His voice is soft, but firm- as if he knows your fragility but needs to make his words heard.

Your frown deepens, and Jay unfortunately notices. 

“Come here,” He pulls you back to him, “You know it’s not because of you, right? I really really like you too. But, I know you deserve more than I can give you right now.”

You nod, despite not understanding. You try to make sense of Jay’s words but they weren’t adding up at all. 

You don’t understand- if he really really liked you, why couldn’t he commit? Why wouldn’t he take you out on a proper date? If he liked you, didn’t he want the same things you did?

Him making dinner, being obsessively caring during your intimate moments, and offering the best aftercare, it was all twisting the knife he had dug into your back. 

Okay, maybe it wasn’t in your back, because you knew where this was going, or you should’ve known. This was no betrayal. It was all inevitable.

It doesn’t make the pain of him leaving you in the dark bleeding, hurt any less. 

It’s time for you to go. You pushed his limits and now tension mixes with the smell of sex in the room. Despite Jay holding you close, you feel so far from him. So, you need to go before you say something stupid. 

You sit up and try to muster up your most sheepish smile, trying to not give away any disappointment in Jay’s answer. You’ve shown enough vulnerability for one night. 

“I think I’m going to go home for the night- I’ve got, you know, an early morning.” You lie through your teeth. It’s a Saturday night (or early Sunday morning at this point). 

Jay nods slowly, as if he knows you’re lying (he does). He follows your movements, sitting up and searching the room for his disregarded clothes. 

“I’ll walk you out.”

You only nod in response. Your voice seemed to die along with your hope. You lead yourself and Jay to his front door. Opening it, you turn to bid him goodbye. 

You’re almost caught off guard by the look in Jay’s eyes. He looks disappointed- in who, you’re not sure. His eyes hold a hint of sadness too.

He leans forward, but you panic. Thinking on your feet, you go for the awkward side hug. You swear you can almost hear Jay grimace. 

“Text me when you get home.”

“Sure, yeah. Goodnight Jay.” 

With that, you walk out the door.

-

By the time you’re home, you have made a major decision. 

Well, it feels major to you. 

You decide you’re gonna distance yourself from Jay for a while. And this time, you’re serious about it. You need some time away from him. From the home-cooked meals. From the fluid conversation. From the softness. 

You need to get your heart in order before you see him again. You predict you will either lose feelings for Jay, and continue your affair, or you’ll learn to live without him. 

You’re not looking forward to either outcome, but it needs to happen. You can’t anticipate the same heartbreak every time you see him. The longing, the desperation, the hope. You can’t do it anymore. 

-

Four days have passed since you saw Jay. Not seeing him in person over the week wasn’t out of the ordinary. You both have full-time jobs, so it’s normal to not see him until the weekend. 

What was unusual was the lack of communication entirely. You and Jay wouldn’t go a day or two without texting each other, or having a quick phone call. 

You were honestly proud of yourself for not contacting him. However, you feel a bit disappointed that he hasn't contacted you at all. You sound hypocritical- the way you want him to simultaneously let you be and pine after you. Feelings are confusing. 

The first weekend without Jay is the worst. You take extra measures to avoid Jay- seeing him, confronting him, even thinking about him. Your phone is turned off and placed across the room where you can’t reach. Your best girlfriends come over for a movie night, providing some much needed girl time. By the time they leave, you have completely forgotten where your weekend usually leads you. 

So, you busy yourself by cleaning the kitchen from earlier in the evening, disposing of popcorn bags and leftover candies. 

For a second, your memory betrays you. You imagine a few months ago when Jay invited you over for a ‘movie’ night. Popcorn and snacks were prepared, but soon forgotten. You two didn’t even make it half through the movie before you were on top of each other. Jay had pulled you onto his lap as you started to make out, each kiss intensifying. Your bodies begin to move against each other on their own and before you know it-

You shake your head from the daydream. Jay does not deserve to take up that kind of space in your mind. You won’t allow him. 

You continue to straighten up your apartment, before you retire to your bed. It’s almost like your body doesn’t know what to do with itself when you’re not in Jay’s apartment on a Saturday night. It’s sad, and it’s precisely why you need space from him. Your heart is growing too dependent on him. 

Picking up your phone, you see a particular notification(s) that makes your sore heart stutter. 

One missed call and four messages from Jay. 

Jay <3: I called to see what you’re up to tonight. You can come over if you’re free.

Jay <3: I made kimchi jjigae. I think I finally got the recipe down.

Jay <3: Just realized it’s been a minute since we talked. 

Jay <3: Missing you right now.

The last message was sent only 30 minutes ago. You glance at the clock, it’s only 11:30- not even that late. Jay is probably still up, and if you leave your apartment now you could probably make it before-

The better part of you stops yourself before you can impulsively see the one person you’re trying to avoid. That’s Jay though- so addicting it makes you go against your better judgment. 

You sigh and turn your phone off. The determination for space is strong, motivated by the ache in your heart.

-

Jay feels like he’s going crazy. His 7 text messages and two missed calls have gone unanswered by you.

Why the hell were you ignoring him? Were you okay? If Jay hadn’t seen your activity on your socials, he would’ve thought you were dead. He’s not trying to be dramatic, he swears. But, during the months and months that you’ve known each other, you’ve never ghosted him. 

Jay racks his brain for the reason you’re ignoring him right now. 

It surely can’t be because of your last conversation right? You both have had that talk multiple times and it never resulted in completely ceased communication. So, Jay concludes that’s not it. 

What if you met someone new? Surely you would have told Jay about them. And, why would you confess your feelings and then find someone new days later? Were you sick? Depressed? Maybe, you were out of town and forgot to mention. 

Jay continues to spiral over throughout the week. He decides that, if by the weekend, you still haven’t responded, he’s going to take matters into his own hands. 

-

You got through a second week without talking to Jay. It gets easier every day you think. Your heart still hurts to ignore his messages and calls- your feelings for him haven’t just disappeared. But, you have to cut him off completely or the heartache you feel will continue to crush you. 

The weekend has come again, but this time you find yourself alone in your apartment. You hadn’t realized how much you needed a weekend to yourself. Spending time with yourself is a skill you’re learning to cultivate, especially now that you don’t have a weekend partner to rendezvous with anymore.

That doesn’t mean you don’t think about him. You think about Jay all the time, and it hurts that you won’t get the intimacy of his bedroom, cooking meals, and the domesticity with him anymore. But, it is still easier to cope without that than it was. 

You’ve settled in the comfiest spot in your living room, book in hand and lights dimmed. A warm cup of tea close by, you’re looking forward to a peaceful night. 

Not even two chapters in your book, you hear a knock at the door. You freeze for a moment, certainly startled as you weren’t expecting anyone tonight. 

You don’t move, praying that whoever is at your door will just go away. It’s 10pm for god sake. 

A knock echoes through your home again, but this time it’s followed by a voice you know all too well. 

“Y/N! Please open the door.” Jay’s voice resonates through your apartment walls and through your heart. You try to keep your cool but your racing heart betrays you. It takes your entire willpower to stop your hands from shaking. You cannot let him see how much his mere presence affects you.

With a deep breath, you open the door and plaster on your most nonchalant expression.

“Oh hey! What’s up?”

Jay huffs and has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Oh good, you’re alive.”

His sarcasm is not lost on you as he pushes his way into your apartment, as if it’s his own. You can count on one hand how many times he’s invaded your space. 

“What’s that supposed to-”

“Why haven’t you answered my texts, or called me back?” Jay cuts you off. 

Adjusting to the shock of his arrival and looking at the man clearly now, you can see how upset he is. You’ve become an expert on his body language- furrowed eyebrows, tense shoulders, confused and pained look in his eyes- you could see it all. 

“I don’t know, I guess I’ve been busy and I don’t know, I just…” You ramblings weren’t helping your case. In fact, you were sure they were only making things worse. You weren’t used to Jay being so straightforward. Usually, you felt like you were always the confrontational one in your dynamic. 

“You were busy? Really?” Jay knew you too well to know your bullshit answer when he hears it. 

“Yeah, well you know, life gets busy.”

Jay scoffs at your attitude. “That’s ridiculous. You can’t even send me a quick text to let me know what’s going on?”

You shake your head, “It must’ve slipped my mind.”

“This is such bullshit. You can’t just ghost me and then tell me it’s because you’re busy.”

“Actually I can.” You weren’t about to let Jay tell you what you can and can’t do. Especially when he continued to break your heart over the past few months. Though the past two weeks were hard, you believe the distance gave you a backbone of some sort. 

“Grow up, I thought you were more mature than this. My god.” Jay snaps. 

He didn’t mean to, but god he was so frustrated at the moment. His mind is clouded, failing to allow him to think clearly. Jay had never snapped at you that way before, ever.

This newfound behavior from the man dulled your senses for a moment. 

Then, you found yourself growing angry. Angry at him, his hypocrisy, and the entire situation.

“I need to grow up? Seriously? You’re the one who needs to grow up. You’re the one who can’t commit. You’re the one who keeps leading me on.”

Jay’s bewildered expression makes you think your feelings are completely news to him. 

“How am I leading you on? I’ve told you over and over again that I don’t want a relationship- I just want to fuck you!”

Jay’s crudeness was an absolute shock to you. Though you’ve never had such a heated confrontation with him before, you never imagined the thoughtful, deliberate man could say such a thing. 

His words anger you even more. How could he not see how his actions were saying something completely different? He may have said he didn’t want a relationship, but all the moments he shared with you had you holding your breath just a little longer, waiting for him. You can’t believe you were so naive. 

“That’s not fair. You did more than just fuck me. You cooked me dinners; we had movie nights; you text me and call me all the time. That’s the basics to being in a relationship, Jay. It twists the knife to do all those things with you and not be able to be with you.” Your monologue began at a raised voice and, to your dismay, ended with a whimper as you trailed off. 

You tried to be strong, determined not to cry in front of Jay. But, the reality of the situation was setting in for you. 

“It’s not my fault you took it the wrong way. I was trying to be nice. I would do it for any friend.” Jay snaps.

You try to look at Jay, but your tears cloud your vision. You don’t even know who the man standing in front of you is. How could he be so cruel? Why was he being so defensive? Though your vision was blurry, it became clear to you that Jay’s comments were intended to hurt you. Whether it was spur of the moment or out of rage, it did not matter. It hurts you either way.

“Get out.” Your stern, level voice sounded through your apartment.

“What?” 

When Jay decided to confront you tonight, he never once thought it would end with him being kicked out of your apartment.

“Jay. Please leave.” You repeat, much softer than before. One could mistake it for a plea if they listen closely enough. 

Jay’s shoulders drop. Gone is the anger in his body language, replaced by a defeated posture. He’s hesitant to leave; he knows you both should hash it out some more. Nothing was solved. 

Nevertheless, he heads toward your front door. It’s a wonder he manages to make it through the thick tension in the air. 

Jay looks back at you once more before opening your front door and stepping out of it. You don’t meet his gaze- you can’t. You’ll break and ask him to stay, to let him please you one last time. It would be the last time.

You were even holding out hope for Jay to turn around and ask you to let him stay, to not go. 

But he didn’t. 

There was no resounding knock on your front door. No Jay asking you to open the door. No confessions and pleads to stay. Just silence.

disclaimer: This is purely fiction- nothing in these works reflect real of these people. Additionally, I don't own any of the inspired songs.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x Reader

[ Chapter 14 ] || [ Chapter 16 ]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.9K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: white-knighting johnny.

Chapter 15: Mo leannan

Johnny isn’t stupid. 

Or blind, for that matter.

Since the first time that Ghost went on that ‘date’, he’s noticed how different he’s been acting.

And weeks ago, he caught him and Gaz leaving base together in civvies. Civvies that neither of them would wear to go out for just a pint.

And either way, if they were going out for a pint, they’d have invited him and Price to go with.

No, this was different.

Personal.

And when they came back, and for the days after, he caught them sneaking glances at one another.

They’d exchange this sort of… look, that he couldn’t quite decipher.

But he could swear Ghost was smirking behind that balaclava of his…

And Gaz would bite his tongue before looking away.

It kept happening… The two of them disappearing for the night over the course of a few weeks, and coming back just in time for morning training.

Both of them way too glued to their phones…

His brain filled in the blanks as best as it could… 

And it decided that they were in love, Ghost and Gaz. 

That they were sneaking off base to get together in secret…

That they would text each other sweet nothings…

That they would exchanges glances to signify ‘I love you’s they couldn’t say aloud.

And, well, it was none of his business…

But it kind of stung a bit that he wasn’t trusted with it.

So, he tried probing.

Just a little.

Going up to Gaz during training and sort of nudging at him, poking him to see if he could get a reaction.

He made up some lie about having a date and asking Gaz if he needed help finding one too. The other lad said no with a decisive head shake.

Then, another day, he told him a story he heard of some sergeant, their age, who was caught in a relationship with a superior in their direct chain of command. And he didn’t miss the way Gaz’s eyes darted away before he muttered how stupid those soldiers were.

But Gaz didn’t fess up to anything…

And Soap wasn’t about to go up to Ghost and try the same… 

So he froze his investigation for a moment.

And he picked it up right. now.

As he stands on the next aisle at the corner shop, getting a few snacks to stock up on, he hears Simon’s distinct voice… it seems to be coming from a phone.

Peeking over what does he see if not you, listening to a voice memo with the butt of your phone against your ear, thinking the volume is low enough not to bother anyone else.

And it is low, but Johnny has good hearing, and could recognize his L.T.’s voice anywhere.

The audio is long and you’ve been listening to it for a while and giggling at it occasionally as you put things into your basket that hung from the crook of your elbow.

He’s sure you’ve been listening to the audio for like 4 minutes now, just a constant flow of Simon’s voice into your ear, probably telling you some sort of story.

Now there was something Soap hadn’t considered.

An extra piece of the puzzle…

He recognizes your face from a couple months ago on Tinder, when all four of them matched with you and, jokingly, Johnny said to Price, Gaz and Ghost that he did all the work in getting you with Price…

There was no way Ghost and Gaz were meeting up with you, was there?

Could they just have a new friend? Or… could you be more?

Thinking of approaching you and asking you directly, Johnny only catches on too late that someone is beelining right for you.

A tall, lanky bloke, maybe 6ft1 or 6ft2, with a look like he’s ready to kill someone stops grabs you by the shoulder and spins you around.

Your eyes double in size and recognition. “Who do you think you are?” He asks you.

“What the fuck do you want, Ethan?” You complain as you tap around on your phone, probably pausing the voice memo and sticking your phone in your pocket.

“What do I want?” He asks you with a humorless laugh. “I want to find out why the fuck you’re suddenly having multiple other blokes over at the flat for the whole night.” He replies.

Johnny’s eyebrows raise as he watches the scene from around the corner into the aisle.

“Since when is that any of your business? And how do you even know? Have you been spying on me?” You ask him, taking a step back.

“Spying? No. But multiple times now I’ve gone to your flat to get the rest of my things and when I was in the elevator got surprised by seeing a bloke going in or out of there.” Ethan reveals.

“Oh, piss off, Ethan!” You retort.

“You’re not denying it.” He replies. “That’s it, innit? You decide to break up with me, saying how you “deserve better” and you’re “not happy” and now you’re going around with a bunch of other blokes?” He says and chuckles dryly again.

“Oh, you’re such a knobhead!” You insult him, your feelings slightly bruised. “How dare you, honestly?! I’m not-” You add.

“You selling yourself now, ‘s that it?” He asks mockingly. “There was an old one leaving in the morning a couple months ago… now there’s black one too… And I’m pretty sure I saw one with a mask the other day. Your clients’ too embarrassed to show their faces around you, huh?” He taunts you.

“I’m sure if I went back tomorrow I’d find another bloke slipping out the door, wouldn’t I?” He continues, his words venomous. “I saw three so far, but I’m sure there’s been more. How many, hm?”

“Oh, my, God… You’re disgusting!” You tell him as you take a step back again, your fingers tightening around the handle of your basket. “I’m not selling myself, not that I need to justify anything to you! Now get away from me!”

“What’s wrong, lovie? You’re embarrassed to say that the break-up was all just an excuse for you to go around and be a whore?” He continues taunting you.

Johnny ses the panic in your eyes and before he can think about it, he’s standing behind this ‘Ethan’, who seems to be your ex. 

“They said ‘Get away from me’, I think that’s your cue, mate.” Johnny remarks with disdain dripping from his voice. Ethan turns and looks down to find Johnny. 

Johnny’s a palm shorter than him, at only 5ft10, but he’s built like a brick shithouse. Big, beefy arms, broad shoulders, strong pecs… Not to mention he’s in full military garb, minus the vest and pistols. 

His appearance is more than enough to strike a bit of fear in men taller than him… And Ethan is definitely intimidated.

“This doesn’t concern you. I’m talking to my partner.” Ethan tries defending himself.

“I don’t think so.” Johnny replies and stalks around him to your side. “Way I see it, they’re my partner.” He bluffs easily while snaking his arm around the small of your back.

He prays that you play along, silently hoping that you remember him, if nothing else, from Tinder.

“Yours?” Ethan sputters and glares at the two of you. You look up at Johnny like he’s your saving grace and lean closer to him, as a sign you recognize him and appreciate the help.

“Aye, mine.” Johnny replies with a curt nod. “This is that Ethan you’ve been telling me about, mo leannan?” [my love] Johnny asks you as his hand gently rubs your back.

Looking up at Johnny, you end up nodding in agreement. “Yeah…” You say softly, knowing that you can’t quite lie, because Ethan knows you well enough to pick up on it.

“I figured.” Johnny says as he looks at Ethan again, playing the part of the overprotective boyfriend pretty well.

“All these blokes ye’ve been ‘seeing’ out of their flat are my mates.” He explains and forces a crooked, not-quite-nice smile on his lips. “They were making sure they were alright, safe and sound, while I was overseas.” Johnny gestures to his outfit.

The realization that you are ‘dating’ a serviceman seems to extinguish whatever revolt was inside Ethan’s body immediately, like a candle that has been blown out.

Johnny lies like it’s second nature to him. His pulse and his breath are not wavering… And you can tell, because the way he has you pressed against him, you can hear both.

You finally realize what Simon told you months ago about “lying enough” while on the job and striving for honesty when he’s out of it… These soldiers are trained to lie like it’s nothing.

“And frankly, now that I saw ye accostin’em like this in a public place, I’m glad I didn’t skimp out on asking my mates to keep an eye on m’eudail.” [my darling] Johnny continues. 

“Now, if you don’t mind. We have shopping to do before we go home. So how about ye piss off?” He concludes and smiles politely. “Or else this is gon’ get very ugly.” He adds and his eyebrows shoot up in a silent lunge of a challenge.

Ethan doesn’t seem to quite believe the lies, but at the same time he’s intimidated enough to not try and argue. So he grumbles under his breath, throws his hands up in an exasperated groan and turns on his heel to walk back out of the store.

Only when he’s fully out of sight and Johnny’s sure the coast is clear, does he unwrap his arm from around you. “Ye alright?” He asks you. “Sorry for the sudden manhandling, could tell ye needed a hand… and had to get ‘im away from ye somehow.” He adds, apologetically.

You nod and look away a bit sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” You say softly as you fix your grip on your shopping basket.  “Just never thought something like this would happen.”

Johnny nods as he looks at you, noticing your face seems extremely stressed, set into a grimace that he does not like. You’re clearly shaken up.

“Hey, it’s alright. He’s gone.” He tells you calmly and taps you lightly on the shoulder. “Do ye need me to walk ye home?” He suggests.

Nodding softly, you force yourself to smile. “I think… I think that’s a good idea.” You end up saying.

Johnny nods as well. “Want me to call Simon and Kyle to meet ye there?” He asks.

Your head snaps up to look at him and your eyes widen. “You… you know?” You ask him in surprise, your breath catching in his throat.

“They’re not as discreet as they wish they were.” Johnny says, once more lying through his teeth. 

He would never admit it took him the better part of two months to realize Simon and Kyle were ‘together’, and that it only clicked they’re together with you right now… the confirmation having come from your stalker-y ex.

“Oh…” You say sheepishly and clear your throat awkwardly.

“It’s alright, I promise.” He assures you. “I’m not judgin in any way. They’re my mates, ye ken?” He adds in a surprisingly gentle tone. “Just tryin’ to help.”

From the stories you’ve heard out of Kyle and Simon, and even Johnny’s own bio on Tinder, you’d never have guessed he was so tender… They always described him as an anger-prone, grown-up class clown… And yet here he is.

Gulping down a breath, you nod. “Yeah… Please.. And I can… I can tell them what happened when we’re home.”

“Alright.” Johnny replies. “Ye wanna finish yer shopping first or d’ye wanna just go?” He asks you carefully.

“I… I’ll just get what I’ve already got in the basket… I want to get out of here…” You add as you shuffle toward the one register counter of the small corner shop.

“Right behind ye.” Johnny remarks as he follows after you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!): @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[noceurous]

get you back

summary: You hated that you loved Bucky Barnes, and he loved that you could not hate him.

warnings: mention of alcohol consumption, semi-drunkenness, carsex (18+), fingering, oral, swearing, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do it), fuckbuddy!bucky, dbf!bucky, implied age gap, mention of bad boyfriends (not bucky), using nicknames (princess, bunny) , slight degradation - nothing physical, some mention of food

minors dni

a/n: yes I AM BACK. please leave some comments/reblogs. thanks!!

A loud snap of fingers made you turn your head to him. “Are you even listening to me?” You sighed, pressing fingers on your temples to look like you were trying to remember.

No, you weren’t listening. You were thinking how that hot guy was about to give you his number, before James Buchanan Barnes a.k.a the actual devil, snatched you away. Leading you to his car without giving you a chance to say goodbye to the best body you have ever seen.

You. Hated. James. Bucky. Barnes.

“Something about… bunnies?” You shrugged as you turned your head back towards the road. Even though it was almost pitch black, you fought your urge to look at his profile under car’s lights. Even though he was angry and sleepless he looked better than all the guys you’ve ever known.

“Really? You are not even trying kid.” He said as he emphasized on the last word. He knew how much you hated the nickname.

“Stop calling me a kid. I’m not that young.”

“I will stop calling you a kid, when you stop acting like one. What were you thinking? What was the point of all that drinking? Get my attention or liver failure?”

The point was to get over your ex boyfriend finding someone before you did. You didn’t want to be the one who was stuck in an ended relationship.

You weren’t even prepared to the idea that he would start dating in a few months. His post just popped on your phone while you were scrolling through pictures on Instagram. Selfie with her, cheek to cheek and smiling like a true dumbass he is.

Getting ass drunk would be a nice way to forget. But you shouldn’t been too drunk to start texting and calling other people.

Especially calling the guy you hated the most. Because he would show up just in time, and yank you away from the guy you were flirting with.

You really shouldn’t have drunk texted your on-again-off-again hookup. Neighbour of your parents, a close friend of your dad.

It started just a few days after your heartbreak. You weren’t sure of how it started, but you remembered how it ended. In his bed, literally begging him for letting you cum as he pounded into you like an animal.

When you weren’t fucking, all you did was argue. Arguments about when to meet up or where to meet up… You hated meeting up in his place, so close to your parents. And he hated meeting only for an hour max.

You started fighting and decided to not meet up again. Either of you got tired of all the lies and secrets. It was you more than it was him. Bucky was always sure you would come back to him one way or another.

“Remind me not to call you again.” You huffed, resting your head on the window. Sun was about to shine in a few hours and all you wanted was to get into your bed. All you needed was forget the day and move on.

“Sure your parents would be thrilled to know their daughter would end up in jail for DUI.” You turned your neck so fast that it hurt.

“I wasn’t going to drive the car!”

“You getting into car of a drunk idiot is stupid enough too!”

“Stop acting like you are my dad! He was fucking hot, and he told me his place was really close.”

“What made you believe in him? I know what that kind of guy thinks. It is only getting you to the bed. You would be considered lucky if he bothered to call you the next day.”

“So? What made you think I am not okay with it?” You saw all the blood rushing to his cheeks, decorating them with a soft pink hue.

“Okay...” He said trying to not go any further with that discussion.

You dropped your shoulders, when you saw how his grasp on wheel tightened and his jaw clenched. If you didn’t know him that well, you would say he was offended.

Whether it was because of anger towards him or how tired you were. You didn’t say anything back but leant your seat back to at least sleep for the rest of the ride.

“Oh no princess, you are definitely not sleeping.” He said just before he slapped your thigh. Small ‘Hey!’ fell from your lips. It was fair to expect him to snap and say you crossed a line.

You yanked your leg away from his grasp. He shut you up before you could say anything back. “You made me get all this way three in the morning. Ofcourse there would be consequences.”

“I didn’t ask you to come.” You said as you rubbed your thigh.

“You sent me a picture of you lifting your skirt and texted all those things you want to do with me. But when I come to pick you up, I saw you on the lap of some dickhead.”

“I was horny. We’ve decided to stop with fooling around. Life moves on James.” As you finished the sentence, his foot stepped on the pedal so quick that he had to use his arm to stop you from falling forward.

“Get in the back of the car.”

“James, I’m tired.”

“Get in the back, or I will make you bunny.” You didn’t said anything back. Bucky never called you bunny, if he didn’t have something on his mind. You knew better than to take the risk of getting him angrier.

You rolled your eyes before unfastening your seatbelt. He caught the sight of your underwear as you bent over to move through the gap between the seats. Even though Bucky saw your pink thong, you acted like you had the upper hand.

“Take off your skirt.” He said before coming next to you. He almost yanked off the door before squishing you on the backseat.

He pulled you by your legs, making you lie down. The cold leather of the seats caused goosebumps on your skin. That and you knew what he was capable of when he was angry.

And he was pissed.

“Not so tired ha, bunny?” His large hands wandered along your legs, moving slowly towards your hips.

A loud noise of your gulp echoed in your brain. You could get used to that view. You legs hooked to his shoulders. His charming face inches over your lucky thong.

“Tell me again bunny.” He said as his eyes locked on your figure under his, trying not to smirk at the wet patch on your thong.

“Tell you what?” You asked. Blinking at him with nothing else on your mind.

“Tell me again the last thing you told me before breaking up with me. So I would not have my way with you.”

“Uhm...” He started kissing on the top of your thighs. Index finger was tracing your slit over the thong.

“We can’t keep doing this and not expect one of us getting hurt. Ah-“ He bit inside of your thigh, sucking a gentle bruise. “James.”

He didn’t listen to you. If he ever did that was not it definitely.

“I’m listening. Continue.” Kisses, soft bites started decorating your body.

His hands placed next to your waist. His teeth brushed along the band of your thong. You wanted to raise your hips. But the way he looked up at you, the darkness in his eyes, made you stop.

You licked your lips, closing your eyes to concentrate. “We continue lying to our close ones and soon enough the lies would get out of—“ You stopped as he curled his finger like a hook to pull down your thong.

He mumbled something that you were sure was Russian as he got close to your heat. His eyes looked into your eyes. You knew he was daring you to stop.

If you stop I’ll stop too bunny.

He didn’t need to speak for you to understand.

“—hands. Lies get out of our hands. It is too risky and it does not worth it. We both know that this affair does not take LONG!”

He licked a stripe over your slit. As his cold fingers separated your folds. He loved to torture you like this.

“I don’t want any of us to get hurt.” You manage to finish your speech as you felt the familiar tingles build up.

The tip of his tongue flicked your clit and you had to hold on to something, his hair, to stop your thighs to close around his head.

“See this is where you are wrong, bunny. There isn’t any chance where you can hurt me...” He said as his fingers collected some of your juices, raising them to his lips. “Unless you try to neglect me of your sweet nectar.” He sucked his fingers clean, you heard a tiny ‘hmm’ as his fingers touched his tongue.

He raised his head to look at you when he was circling around your weeping hole. “Answer this, do you want to hurt me bunny?” He wanted to make you weep as much as your pussy.

“N-no. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then why you try to break things off?” The tip of his finger slowly pushed into your whole. He pulled it back before you could enjoy this. “Are you going to try and break things off again?” Another question he didn’t need to hear its answer to. He could read it from your tearful eyes and slight pout. “Oh bunny.” He whispered to himself, pride filling his chest.

His finger went back to circling around your hole as he used another one to toy with your clit. You could not stop yourself from curling your toes and try to pull him closer.

That arrogonat smirk on his face made a comeback. “Are you going to flirt with other guys who I’m sure does not even know what a clit is?” You shook head your again and he pressed his thumb.

“Fuck.” You said as you squirmed under his touch.

“Not the answer I am looking for. Do you want to try again bunny?”

“I—I’m not going to flirt with other guy a—and ohgod!” He pushed one inch of his finger inside curling the tip so it would reach your spot. You didn’t stop so he wouldn’t either. “I’m not going break things o—off.”

One more inch and you knew you would start to drip onto seats. Before you knew it, his mouth got back onto your clit. “James!” You said again as you pulled onto his locks.

“Shit! It’s only been a week but your pussy is crying out f’ me.” He said as he stood back up.

Your legs started shaking by the time. You whimpered at the lost contact of his fingers and lips. You also missed seeing him with your thighs wrapped around his head.

You knew if you touched yourself he would bite your fingers and deny you any sort of release. He quickly unfastened his belt and lowered his pants and boxers just low enough to take out his cock.

The tip was swollen red it was starting to leak some precum as he pressed it on your clit. “You are an attention whore bunny. It’s been only a week and I find you cosy with another guy. This deserves punishment don’t you think?”

“Please! I’ve been just trying to get your attention.” He smiled at your confession as he aligned his tip.

“Tell me you are mine and mine only. If you tell me that, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I’m yours James. I’m only yours, I do not belong to anybody else.” He started slowly push into you.

He leaned over you to fix the hair got on your face. His lips brushed along yours when you moaned as he found the spot. Your legs started to got down but he held them back. Pushing your bent knee to your chest as he started moving.

His hips started rutting into you slowly. “So pretty like this bunny. All spread out for me.” His tongue darted out from his lips to giving you a longing kiss. All teeth and tongue, full of lust and desire.

His large hands pulled down your strapless top, letting your tits out. His tongue clicked on top of mouth. “And thinking I would be sharing them with some dickhead.” He pushed into you hardly, making you jump into his arms.

“I don’t share bunny. Never.” You knew he meant more with those words.

Air inside the car was getting thick because of your panting. His fingers started playing with your nipples to get them erect as he held your tits together and started licking and sucking both of them.

“Not the teeth ah!” You tried to protest but he had already sunk his teeth into your extra-sensitive flesh. Sweet melody of your cries caused him to increase speed. He wanted more.

You yelped as you tried to find something to hold onto, best thing you found was the back of his shoulder as you pressed your nails against his skin. Bruises and scratches would be greeting both of you as first thing in the morning but it didn’t bother you as long as it came with pleasure.

“FuckFuckFuck!” Familiar coil started to form under your belly button, and you threw your head back. “James, please please…”

“Wanna cum bunny? Is that it? Mumblin’ because you are too close?” He said after detaching from your nipples with a pop. The little numb was all swollen and covered in saliva.

“Y-yes oh.” He slammed his hips onto yours with more force and stayed pressed into you. “Cum for me bunny. Cream all over my cock, fuck, you filthy girl, so eager for a release.” He said as he stopped your wriggling hips against is. “Humpin’ me like a cute lil’ bunny.”

Your hips started moving involuntarily, chasing after your release. He helped you with continuing the pound into you. You were chanting his name unable to form more coherent words or sentences.

“That’s it bunny. Cum for me come on! I’ve got you.” Just after he was finished your release hit you like a wave, causing you to lose all the control of your mind and body.

But he didn’t stop, he increased his pace. Chasing his own release using your numb body. “‘So pretty like this bunny. Makes me want to keep you all to myself.”

“I’m all yours.” You whispered, truly meant it. As you became used to the swell on your chest each time you look at him.

You were really his.

“Yeah? Are you going to take my cum? Let me breed you? I’m sure you would love that don’t you bunny? All swollen with my cum, looking at me with those pretty eyes. Fuck!”

“Yes, yes yes give it to me please.”

“Fucking take it. You little cumslut.” You felt the wetness and warmth of his release shoot right inside of you.

He stood there with your legs wrapped around his waist. Looking at your tired and ruined figure. Taking the sight in just before he slowly pulled out.

“We—“ You tried to speak up, trying not to show him how much you missed his cock inside you already.

As he was putting his clothes back on you once were aware of this situation.

There was no We, you two were just fucking whenever one of you needed some release. No matter what you do to get his attention, all you would get was his dick pounding into you. It won’t be his heart.

Sound of glove compartment’s being closed made you raise on your elbows to look at him.

You saw him take out some tissues to wipe off his leaking cum. “Are you on the pill?” You shook your head, you knew how those were messing up with you. “I’m not ovulating, it’s fine.” He shook his head, “Still gotta get you some plan B. We shouldn’t be risking it.”

“Sure.” You tried to swallow the ache in your throat, and your pride.

You fixed your top and found your thong on the ground, raising it to put it on. Tension between the two of you was so thick that a saw could not even cut it.

He got back on his seat and started the engine. “The sun is about to rise, I can drive to a diner and got us some breakfast. There is a place I know makes your favourite. They are also good at making it.” He couldn’t hide his smile when he saw your smile at the mention of the food. He loved making you smile like that.

Sleep was the last thing on your mind, since he fucked your brains out. Since it had been more than 10 hours since you last ate something; growling sounds from your stomach was about to come. “Sounds good but I want to wear my skirt first.”

“Sure bunny.” He said as he tossed your skirt back to you.

And it was a second, just a second, that he felt like he could get used to it.

He could get used to having breakfast with you. He could get used to your face being the first thing he saw as he started his day. He could get used to having sex with only one person, someone really means something to him.

But when your phone buzzed, and he saw your dad’s name on the screen he got back into reality.

You sent it to voicemail, and leaned closer to him over the table. He saw the same smile again on your lips and the familiar spark on your eyes.

“So what do you say? Your place or mine?”

He smiled back at you, leaning over you. “Which one do you prefer, bunny?” He knew he could go on as long as you looked at him like that.

As long as you looked at him with love. Even if you were just realizing, he was already an addict for it.