#now I have a completely different heartbreak over this friend

[backtothefanfiction]

Reading this just made me feel more proud of my writing abilities and reminded me of some of my favourite sex scenes I have ever written and it has really made me want to highlight them for you and why I love them so much.

Each one of these scenes is so completely different from one another, showing the true depths of the characters within them as they use these acts of intimacy to really help develop and flesh out who the characters are both as individuals and as partners. Each scene has a different need to be fulfilled and emotions to be shared and I am so incredibly proud of each one of them.

Angel In The Garden of Evil Chapter 19: Wash It Away

A mob!au Peter Parker Story

The intimacy of this scene coming as a conclusion for all the characters have been through not just during the story as you the reader reads it but also all the history they have together. It’s oddly sweet and tender as he takes the time to carry her into the house, to wash her in the shower and show her how much she really means to him. To literally wash away the old before they make love and bring in the new. It’s almost a whole cycle of life, death and rebirth moment. It’s the deep longing connection of husband and wife and how some loves just endure despite their tribulations.

Make Me Forget

Amazing Spider-Man Peter Parker x Harry Osborn Imagine (part two of crushed)

Running to the one person you shouldn’t to make the hurt go away. Asking your now ex boyfriends best friend to take you as his own after he rescued you from your abuser and asking them to claim you as their own and show you how to be treated right. To kiss away every hurt. To rewrite every touch on your body. It’s both painful and yet beautiful and hopeful and healing.

Nothing Ever Good Happens After 2am

A Joel Miller Story (Part 3 of the Insecure Series)

This is hate fucking at its finest. There’s so much tension and history and anger for both the past and present. Although so familiar with one another’s bodies they instinctively reach for each other due to that familiarity, but there is no resemblance of the way they once fucked to how they do now. The way they know each others bodies so well they can weaponise them against each other to do even more damage, leaving neither of them fully satisfied in the end and the act in fact only works to make their situation worse just feels heartbreaking on everyone, characters and readers alike. It’s short and to the point and makes me so proud.

What Benny Doesn’t Know Chapter 5

Frankie’s story

This is all about toxic love. It’s all the things well accepted when we are blinded by love. Overlooking the glaring problems just so you can be with them. Accepting their lies and bad behaviour. It’s doing drugs in the middle of the act. It’s cheating on partners. It is love and pain and longing and finally getting what you want but it’s at the wrong moment in the timelines and destined to fail from the second it started. Although a fun read and a wild time, the emotional weight and lessons for the reader also really shine through and I will always be proud of how I chose to handle this one, both for the characters and the over all story and it’s development.

the secret to writing good smut that doesn't feel like you're just repeating the same words for junk and fucking over and over is to spend your effort writing about everything happening around the sex and everything happening inside the heads of the people having sex and before you know it you have four paragraphs of introspection and two paragraphs describing the space and it's okay to use the word cock again

[vancouvery]

Why am I posting a page of old radio cryptography units? A friend’s father died last night. Friend’s father was long-retired from the No Such Agency and this was his (supposed) field. Things are unclear b/c ofc he couldn’t say exactly what he did at work, but he was excellent at math, electronics, and radio tech, so you do the (ha ha) math. Not James Bond stuff, think more one of Q’s minions, if one of those minions was a quiet, humble, aw-shucks midwestern American who liked country line dancing and logic puzzles. Which now that I think of it, is a bit plausible. My friend’s entire family moved to England for a few years when he was between 4 and 7 years old as his father was assigned there by his (cough) employer.

My friend is adopted, as is his sister (not related to each other), and had just returned from a trip to the UK as part vacation, where we caught up with each other whilst I was on vacation too, and part meeting his birth mother(! When family was there when he was a child they didn’t know his birth mom was English). Meeting his birth mom was a mixed bag for him. She seemed aloof he thought, but the circumstances of his birth were slightly fraught (late ‘60s) and she has two grown kids from a later marriage, so… He met his birth dad in California a few years ago and my friend’s one of about a dozen (yes) half siblings on that side of the family. Birth dad was somewhat famous in the offroad racing circuit.

Friend returned from UK with COVID, and was out of commission for a week or so, then his adoptive father, and mother, were both in the hospital for a sudden (non COVID) illness, complications to a possible bladder infection for both (UTIs in the elderly are bad, pls look it up). His father had just been discharged to a rehab facility in his retirement community*, but his mom is still in the hospital. My friend got his bad news while at my place, visiting me. He had put his phone on automatic do not disturb after 11pm, but didn’t get the call until 6am, and the nurse had been trying to call all night. His father died at midnight. He called his sister while I scrambled to make him a rudimentary breakfast to go.

I guess I’m posting all this b/c I can’t help. I met his adoptive parents a few times and they were always gracious and caring, in an elderly nerd sort of way, if you know what I mean. I liked them, and they were much more knowing and shrewd than I think my friend would acknowledge to himself. They’re the kind of people that if I had gotten to know them, we would be able to have had silent conversations just looking at each other, whilst my friend, their son, would be none the wiser. I guess I’m mourning both the person of his dad, and the potentials lost in not knowing him longer.

*If you’re not familiar, continuing-care retirement communities are a newish American thing, catering to the huge numbers of aging boomers. It’s a 60+ retirement village about the size of a medium college campus. You buy a condo onsite and as you age and debilitate you gradually move to higher & higher levels of care on campus: assisted living, rehab, nursing, and/or dementia care. There’s multiple dining halls and entertainment onsite, like a cruise ship. When you die the facility sells your condo and rinse/repeat.

[thelovehypothesis]

Between the Pit Walls and the Heartbreak

(part 2.1) (part 2.2)

Franco Colapinto x fem-engineer!reader

+3k words

a/n’s: full credit to @afterglowsainz go read their fic “don't smile” its amazingggg and so this is my take on the fic because I loved the concept and have two versions of part 2 for this! hope you like it.

warnings: angst!

Summary: Two hearts, one racetrack, and a love that no team principal can control. When love collides with ambition, can they find a way back to each other?

You stood at the other edge of the Williams garage, watching as Franco climbed out of his FW46 for what felt like the hundredth time that week. Every step he took felt heavier than the last, every glance between the two of you loaded with words left unsaid. It was different now, and both of you knew it. 

When Franco signed with Williams to finish the 2024 season, your heart became a battlefield of excitement and dread. You were his race engineer, the one who knew him better than anyone else on the grid, the one who stayed up late going over data with him, strategizing, and pushing him to be the best. You had been with him since F3, a time when your paths crossed because of your families. They had been friends for years, and your parents had pulled some strings to give you a chance to prove yourself as a young race engineer, even funding the early stages of your career.

At first, people doubted you. They thought you were only there because of your family’s connections, but you quickly silenced those voices. You stayed up late, crunching data, analysing telemetry, and refining strategies for Franco’s races. You weren’t just there by luck; you were good—really good. Your talent quickly shone through, and soon enough, bigger teams were offering you positions. You could have taken those offers, stepped into a more high-profile role, but you never did. You stayed with Franco.

Because you loved him. You had fallen in love with him.

It had started subtly—a glance here, a shared laugh there. You weren’t just his engineer; you became his confidante, his friend, and eventually, you found yourself falling for him. He looked at you after each race win like you were part of his victory, not just a cog in the machine. Your bond deepened as you moved with him from F3 to F2, and every time a team came knocking with an offer, you turned them down. They could offer you prestige, money, and opportunities, but they couldn’t offer you Franco.

He was the reason you stayed. Every lap he completed felt like your own heartbeat; every podium, every victory was something you shared with him. It was more than just work—it was love. 

But everything changed when he signed with Williams.

-The Call 

The moment Williams confirmed Franco as their new driver for the remainder of the 2024 season, everything changed. You had been publicly by his side for over two years, a relationship that everyone in the paddock knew about. Your love story wasn’t a secret—far from it. Fans followed your every move, your Instagram was full of pictures of you two at races, on vacations, and even behind the scenes in the paddock. You had been his race engineer since F3, and people saw your partnership as an unbreakable duo both on and off the track.

When you were reassigned to Alex Albon’s car, it wasn’t just a professional shift; it felt personal. The move should have been a tremendous opportunity in its own right—working with a driver as talented and respected as Alex was no small feat—but it was hard to see it as a win when it meant being separated from Franco. The paddock was buzzing with speculation about how the change would affect your relationship.

But the hardest blow came in a private meeting with James Vowles, the team principal. He sat the two of you down, his tone serious, and made it clear in no uncertain terms: there could be no personal distractions. He acknowledged the public nature of your relationship, but made it clear that professionalism first, always. There was no room for messy relationships that could compromise team integrity, that moving forward, there needed to be boundaries. Williams was entering a critical phase, and the last thing they wanted was for emotions to compromise performance.

James’s words echoed in your mind long after the meeting ended. “It’s nothing personal, it’s about keeping the team focused. We’ve all seen how relationships can become distractions in this sport. We need to keep things professional, especially now that Franco is in F1.”

You had expected some tension when the move was announced, but not like this. You weren’t just any race engineer—you had stood beside Franco for years, helped him rise through the ranks. Your love had grown through the late-night data reviews, the shared victories, the quiet moments after race weekends when it was just the two of you. To be told that this love, something that had been a part of your lives for over two years, was now considered a “distraction” was gut-wrenching.

Franco was the one who made the call, though. “It’s for the best,” he’d said, voice breaking just a little. You could see how much it hurt him to say it, how his voice faltered for just a second, but you also knew he was trying to protect both of your careers. He couldn’t afford to let emotions get in the way now, not when he was on the brink of making a name for himself in Formula 1. And you didn’t want to be the one to hold him back, either. So you agreed, even though it felt like your heart was being torn in two. You could see the conflict in his eyes, but the weight of the moment crushed any objections you might’ve had. You didn’t want to be the reason he failed to thrive in F1. And so, with a single nod, you agreed to end it.

It was a quiet breakup—no big fights, no yelling, just an excruciating silence that followed you like a cloud for weeks. You’d kept things under wraps so well that even the fans didn’t catch on immediately. But they were observant; they always were. It wasn’t long before they noticed the subtle changes. Your Instagram went private, the photos of you two celebrating F2 podiums together disappeared, and though you still posted about the races, the personal connection that had once been there was gone.

Speculation began to swirl in the background, but you never confirmed or denied anything. You let the fans talk, let the rumours grow, because addressing them would only bring more pain. And in the paddock, Franco became just another driver. Professional, distant, and cold in a way you hadn’t expected. You couldn’t stand it.

You threw yourself into your work with Alex, who was a consummate professional, always supportive, but even he noticed the toll it was taking on you. “You don’t have to pretend, you know,” Alex had said one evening after a particularly long debrief session. “It’s okay to feel hurt.”

But admitting that hurt felt like a betrayal of everything you’d tried to hold together. So you buried it deeper.

As the season progressed, the distance between you and Franco only grew. He was focused on his races, and you were determined to be the best engineer you could be for Alex. But no matter how hard you tried to push Franco out of your mind, he was always there. You saw him every day, heard his voice over the radio, watched him in the garage. It was torture, and you couldn’t escape it.

There were moments when he would catch your eye from across the paddock, and for a split second, it felt like old times. But then reality would crash down, and you would remind yourself that things were different now. You weren’t his engineer anymore. You weren’t his anymore.

And yet, despite everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to move on. You still loved him. The offers from other teams continued to pour in—teams that saw your potential, that recognized your talent. Mclaren, Aston Martin, even Mercedes reached out, but you turned them all down. How could you leave when Franco was still here? You had built your career with him by your side, and even though your relationship was over, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

But you knew it couldn’t last. Eventually, you would have to make a choice.

—The Wall Comes Down

It wasn’t until Suzuka, late in the season, that Franco finally broke the silence between you two. The garage was quiet, most of the crew gone, but Franco lingered by his car, his eyes darting toward you as if summoning the courage to speak.

“Can we talk?” His voice was low, tentative, and you wanted to say no, 1you didn’t want to have this conversation. You had spent the last few months trying to bury your feelings, to focus on your work and pretend that everything was fine. But the look in Franco’s eyes told you that he wasn’t going to let you walk away this time.

“We shouldn’t,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Please” he pleaded and you found yourself nodding while he guided you to his driver's room.

He didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “I hate this. I hate that we don’t talk anymore.”

You crossed your arms, trying to guard yourself against the emotions surging within. “We don’t talk because you made that choice, Franco.”

His jaw clenched, a flash of frustration crossing his face. “It wasn’t my choice—it was the team’s.”

You shook your head, feeling the sting of unshed tears. “But you agreed to it. You agreed to break up with me like it was just another strategy call. Like we were something you could let go of as easily as a bad qualifying lap.”

“I did it for us,” he said, voice rising. “For our future. You know how cutthroat this world is—how many careers get destroyed because of personal issues. I didn’t want that for you, or for me.”

You stepped closer, lowering your voice. “Don’t lie to yourself. You did it for you. You were scared, Franco. Scared that if things went wrong between us, it would ruin your big shot in F1.”

He looked away, the weight of your words hanging between you like a wall neither of you could cross. After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice softer now, broken. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I was scared. But that doesn’t change how I feel.”

“And how’s that, exactly?” you asked, unable to stop the bitterness from creeping into your tone.

“Look I know I messed up,” Franco said, his hands shaking as he spoke. “I thought breaking up was the right thing to do. I thought it would keep us both focused, but… I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend anymore.” He paused for a moment. “I still love you,” he said, and the words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had been waiting for them, hoping to hear them for months, but now they only made you angry.

“You can’t just say that and expect everything to go back to normal,” you said, shaking your head. “It doesn’t work that way.” You looked away, the pain of his words hitting you harder than you expected. “You made your choice, Franco. You chose your career over me. You can’t just come back now and expect everything to go back to the way it was.”

“I didn’t choose my career over you,” he said, stepping closer. “I thought I was protecting us both. I thought I was doing what was best for you. I know I hurt you. I know I made the wrong call, but I’m trying to fix it now. We can still be friends.”

“No,” you said firmly, taking a step back. “I didn’t need protecting,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes. “I needed you to trust me. To trust us. But you didn’t. And I..I…I can’t just be your friend, Franco. Not when I’m still in love with you.”

The silence between you stretched out, the weight of your confession settling in. Franco’s face fell, and for the first time, you saw genuine regret in his eyes.

“I didn’t realise…”

“You didn’t want to realise,” you corrected. “You thought it would be easier to just put distance between us, to make things ‘professional,’ but that’s not how feelings work. You can’t compartmentalise everything.”

He reached for your hand, but you pulled away. “I need space, Franco. I can’t do this anymore.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Finally, Franco nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He looked at you, his eyes full of regret, and for the first time, you saw how much this had been hurting him too. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

He turned around and you watched as he walked away, your heart breaking all over again, but you knew it was for the best. Some things just couldn’t be fixed with a pit stop.

-The Offer By the time the season neared its end, you received the call you’d been avoiding for months. Red bull was offering you a position. They wanted you to join their engineering team, and the offer was too good to ignore. Prestige, a hefty pay raise, and the chance to work with another driver—a new start.

You took the job. You had to. Staying with Williams, staying near Franco, was suffocating you. And the moment Franco found out you were leaving for Red Bull? It broke him in a way you hadn’t expected.

-The End of the Season

The season wrapped up in Abu Dhabi, and the celebration felt hollow without Franco by your side. You watched from a distance as he soaked in the cheers from the crowd, the flashes of cameras capturing the culmination of a year of hard work. He had grown into a formidable driver in F1, and you couldn’t help but feel pride for him, even if you had been reduced to just another observer.

You had kept your distance for months, determined to stay professional despite how much it hurt. But as the night went on and the paddock grew quiet, you found yourself lingering. The afterparty was in full swing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to join in. Instead, you found a secluded spot near the pit garages, letting the sound of the distant laughter and music wash over you as you replayed the season in your mind—every moment you had spent avoiding Franco, pretending like your heart wasn’t breaking every time you saw him.

“Hey.” His voice startled you, pulling you from your thoughts.

You turned around, and there he was—Franco, standing there, his eyes filled with something you hadn’t seen in a long time. Regret. Pain. Love.

“I’ve been looking for you all night,” he said softly, stepping closer. He was still in his race suit, unzipped to his waist, a reminder of everything that had changed, and yet, everything that still felt the same.

“You found me,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You hadn’t seen him this close in what felt like forever. His presence stirred up emotions you had tried so hard to bury, but here they were, bubbling up to the surface.

“I didn’t think you’d stay.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking uncertain, a far cry from the confident driver everyone saw on the grid. “I thought you’d already be gone.”

You shook your head, unable to find the words. There was so much you wanted to say, but where would you even begin?

Franco took another step toward you, his eyes searching yours. “I miss you,” he said, his voice breaking just a little. “I know I messed up. I thought I was doing the right thing, for both of us, for our careers. But I was wrong. I can’t keep pretending that everything’s okay without you. It’s not. I’m not.”

Your heart clenched at his words, but you had been carrying the weight of this heartbreak for so long that it felt almost impossible to let it go. “Franco, we—” You paused, trying to gather yourself. “We made a choice. You made a choice.”

“I know,” he said quickly, his voice desperate. “I know I made the choice, but it was the wrong one. I thought we could just focus on our careers and put everything else aside, but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t pretend like you’re not the most important thing in my life.”

You swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “I thought I could handle it too,” you admitted. “I tried to be professional. I tried to focus on my work with Alex and push everything else away, but it’s been… it’s been hell.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he stepped even closer, so close you could feel the warmth of his body next to yours. “I thought I was doing what was best for us, for you. I thought if we stayed apart, we could avoid all the complications, but I didn’t realise that losing you was the biggest mistake I could make.”

Tears blurred your vision, and before you could stop yourself, you closed the distance between you and wrapped your arms around him. He pulled you into his chest, holding you tight as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek, steady and strong, and for the first time in months, you felt like you could finally breathe.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered into his chest, your tears soaking into his race suit.

He held you tighter, his hand gently stroking the back of your head. “I missed you too,” he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. “Every day, I missed you.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, and in that moment, all the walls you had built up around yourself came crumbling down. The hurt, the anger, the distance—it all melted away, leaving just the two of you standing there, raw and vulnerable.

And then he kissed you.

It was soft at first, tentative, like he wasn’t sure if it was okay. But then, as you kissed him back, it deepened, all the months of pain and longing pouring into that one kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of everything you had been through together, everything you had survived. It was a kiss that reminded you why you had fallen in love with him in the first place.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were crying. His forehead rested against yours, his hands still holding you as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

“I love you,” he whispered, his breath shaky. “I never stopped loving you.”

You let out a soft sob, nodding as you wiped the tears from your cheeks. “I love you too, Franco. I never stopped. But we can’t just pick up where we left off. It’s been months. We’ve both changed, and... I’m still so hurt.”

Franco's face crumpled with regret, his eyes filled with desperation. “I know I messed up. I don’t want to rush anything. I just want to be with you again, even if it takes time. We can take it slow. I’m willing to do whatever it takes, just—please. I can’t lose you again.”

You shook your head, your heart breaking all over again, but this time, for a different reason. “Franco, I don’t think you understand. It’s not just about time or taking it slow. I’ve been trying to heal, trying to move on from everything. You hurt me, and I can’t go back to that place.”

He swallowed, his voice shaky. “But we can try—can’t we? We can figure it out together. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

You looked down, your hands trembling as you tried to steady yourself. “It’s not that simple. I’ve accepted an offer, Franco.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “An offer?”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the next words. “Red Bull offered me a position, and I took it. I’m going to be Max Verstappen’s new race engineer.”

The shock on Franco’s face was immediate, his body stiffening as he processed what you said. “Red Bull? Max’s engineer?” His voice was barely above a whisper, disbelief clouding his expression.

You nodded, fighting back the tears threatening to spill over again. “This is my chance, Franco. My career—this is everything I’ve worked for, and I can’t let it slip away because of what we used to be.”

His lips parted, but no words came out. The pain in his eyes was unmistakable, but so was the understanding. He took a step back, realising that he had already lost you, not because you didn’t love him, but because too much had changed.

“I… I didn’t know,” he finally whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You swallowed hard, your throat tight as you spoke. “I didn’t plan for it to happen like this. But this is what I need to do, for me. I need to move forward.”

Franco stood there, silent, his eyes fixed on the ground as he tried to absorb the reality of your words. “So… this is it?”

You wiped away the last of your tears, your heart heavy but resolute. “I think it has to be. I’ll always care about you, but I can’t keep holding on to something that’s hurting me. You have your future, and I have mine.”

He looked up, his gaze searching yours one last time, as if hoping for a miracle. But when he saw the finality in your eyes, he nodded, defeated. “I understand.”

It was the hardest thing you’d ever done—walking away from Franco when you still loved him. But this wasn’t just about love anymore. It was about you, your dreams, and your future. And for the first time in a long time, you were choosing yourself.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, the sounds of the paddock fading into the background as you stepped into the unknown, leaving behind the man who had once meant everything.

But you didn’t look back. Not this time.

--- THE END ---

hope you liked it, part two is on its way.

Lots of love, Em!

[ariesangelxo]

mornings - part two

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

cw: more angst, still no comfort (i promise it’s coming in the next part), heartbreak, one mention of panic attacks, prescription benzo use, recreational coke use, drinking, arguing, mention of a gun and a gunshot at the end, not proofread lol

an: thank u all SO SO much for all of the love on part one !!! i am blown away and in awe. there also will be a part three for sure <3

part three

the past twenty-six days had not been kind to you. your mornings were spent rotting away in bed until your mom would force you to get up, her expression of concern always made you feel even worse. your days weren’t much better, you forced yourself to detach from your heart and numb your emotions. it was the only way you knew how to keep going. you put on a mask during the day with your parents, giving them occasional smiles and laughs that weren’t the kind that warmed their hearts. they knew you weren’t okay, but they also knew they couldn’t force you to talk about it or you’d shut down completely. your nights consisted of taking a benzodiazepine in order to fall asleep, you couldn’t sleep without them. you tried, it only led to intense panic attacks and hysterical sobs that made your mother’s heart break in front of you.

this morning had been a bit different. you were awakened when you felt a weight in your bed, and in the haze of waking up you initially thought it was rafe. you shot up the moment you remembered everything, eyes widening and heart racing, but you looked over to see sarah in your bed. "oh my god, sarah you scared the hell out of me!" you exclaimed, holding a hand over your chest.

she let out a giggle, "i'm sorry, your mom let me in. i miss you," her tone was gentle. you had become very close with sarah during your relationship with rafe. being over at the cameron's house so often led to a beautiful friendship forming between the two of you. she was like a sister to you, something you cherished deeply as you didn't grow up with a sister.

you felt a pang of guilt in your chest at her words. you knew she missed you, she'd messaged you every single day since your break up without fail, even if you didn't always text back. you had seen her a couple times, but when she asked about what happened, you told her you weren't ready to talk about it. sarah was incredibly understanding, knowing how much you loved her brother and not wanting to push you too far.

"i miss you too, sar. i'm sorry i've been such a shit friend lately." you responded to her. you gave her a small smile, curling up next to her as she sat against your headboard.

"it's okay, i know you're not doing great with everything going on right now," she trailed off with a sad smile, "but, you're going out with me tonight!" she became animated as she spoke.

you didn't have it in your heart to deny her, not when she looked at you like you were the most important person in her world. "you know i can't say no to you. where are we going?" you asked curiously.

"there's going to be a huge party at the boneyard, and you're coming with me. no ifs, ands, or buts." she giggled out, "i need to get you out of your room, you're rotting away in here, babe."

"god, you sound just like my mother," you teased back. "i'll go though, i miss you more than you know. i even miss the pogues a bit." you both laughed, referencing her newer relationship with john b.

you couldn't prevent your curiosity from getting the better of you, "how- how has he been?"

sarah bit her lip, debating internally how much to tell you. "he's been... not great. i don't see him much when i'm home, he's usually in his room with the door shut. he's been a lot more moody too, snapping at literally everyone in the house. it probably didn't help that i told him he's an idiot and he fucked up the best thing to ever happen to him."

you couldn't suppress the laugh that slipped through your lips or the slight satisfaction you felt knowing that you weren't the only one struggling. "i love you sar. thank you." you leaned over, giving her a hug.

"i love you too. now get your ass up and shower. we're getting you a new outfit for the party."

you spent the next few hours strolling through the streets of figure eight with sarah. your arms held multiple shopping bags, filled with clothes she insisted you needed for tonight. you were incredibly grateful that she had forced you out of bed, you actually felt human for the first time since everything happened.

you found yourself in a small cafe, giggling as sarah told you a story from one of her drunken adventures with the pogues.

“you know… you should talk to jj tonight. i know he thinks you’re hot.” sarah gave you a mischievous smile as she wiggled her brows.

“funny,” you rolled your eyes playfully at her, “but it’s way too soon for me to get into anything with anybody right now.”

“i didn’t mean start dating him, i just think you would have fun together.”

“i just- i don’t know, sar. i’ve been such a wreck these past few weeks… can i tell you what happened?” you looked up from your fingers to meet her eyes, now widened with shock.

“yeah, of course you can. but don’t feel like you have to if you don’t want to.”

you were grateful for her support, going into your explanation of how the last couple months of your relationship, rafe’s behavior changed drastically. sarah hung on to your every word, needing to know exactly what led to the end of your relationship.

“and so i walked into the country club to surprise him. i spent the whole morning getting ready, did my makeup how he likes, even wore a new sundress that i know he would have loved. but i walked in and…” you looked up as your vision began to blur, “he was talking with some bitch i’ve never seen before bartending. she had short brunette hair, but he fucking smirked at her the way he only does- did for me. and- and then, she basically fucking held his hand while she fucked him with her eyes, and he let it happen!”

you spit the words out like they were poison on your tongue, not noticing your voice beginning to raise with frustration. sarah’s jaw was nearly on the floor.

“what the- what the fuck?” she racked her brain, trying to remember if she’d seen anyone matching your description recently, but nothing came to her.

“god, shit. i’m so sorry, babe. i don’t know what the fuck is wrong with him.” she attempted to console you as you dabbed your eyes with a napkin.

you shrugged your shoulders, “what’s done is done. i just want to forget about everything for a while.”

she nodded, “then let’s go get ready. we can pregame at yours and ride with john b and them.”

after a few shots, a couple hours spent transforming yourself to not look like you spent the last three weeks trying to cope with your break up, and a lot of laughter, you and sarah were ready to go.

you wore a cropped loosely crocheted white sweater over your pink bikini and a white miniskirt that hugged your hips , the strings from your bottom peaking out from the top of it. you were finally feeling good about yourself again, and you’d be damned if you let anyone ruin it.

the ride to the boneyard only lifted your spirits more. it was impossible not to laugh around the pogues, especially when jj did whatever he could to hear your giggle.

you arrived just as the party was beginning to pick up. relief flooded your veins when you didn’t see rafe anywhere. you knew it was a possibility he’d be here, but it was going to be significantly easier to have a decent night without his presence lingering around.

you filled up a red solo cup at the keg, downing the cheap alcohol before refilling it.

“slow down there, or you might not make it too long.” jj approached you, giving you a flirty smile.

you gave him a laugh in response, “i’ll be fine, jay. i just want to be able to let loose tonight.”

“stick by me then, don’t want any of these pervs creeping on you.” the thinly veiled concern in his voice made you smile. you know he’s flirting, but it’s clear he wants to keep you safe knowing it’s your first night out in so long.

you spent the next hour surrounded by the pogues, and true to his word, jj looked out for you. he did so well that you failed to notice who had shown up to the party, the one and only rafe cameron.

rafe, on the other hand, saw you immediately upon arriving. it was impossible for him not to when your presence demanded his attention. he was not happy to see who you were hanging around with. his ongoing beef with the pogues was well known by everybody on the island. he didn’t come to party though, he had other business to attend to as barry gave him a side eye, “fuck are you doing, country club? you can fight for your girl later, we’ve got shit to do.”

your drink had somehow disappeared. your furrowed your brows as you looked down, giggling to yourself as you told your friends you were going to get another one. you were at the perfect level of drunk, not to the point of blacking out or vomiting, but to where you couldn’t quite walk in a straight line and everything was funny to you.

you stumbled up to the keg, starting to fill up your cup when you felt someone watching you. the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, you instantly knew who it was. it was as though there was a chip in you that alerted you to when he was nearby. you took a deep breath as you turned your head slightly, seeing rafe sat next to a man you didn’t know as he handed a small plastic bag filled with overpriced coke to a touron. rafe’s eyes didn’t leave you as he signaled him to leave.

you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, the hand holding onto your cup now trembling and the lump in your throat building. rafe stood, starting to approach you as you froze. your brain was screaming at you to run but your body refused to move an inch.

“what the fuck do you want, cameron?” your words were spat out with venom. your tone clearly surprised you both as he looked shocked momentarily. you were typically one to stand your ground, but never ever was your attitude aimed towards him.

“what do you mean ‘what the fuck do i want’? you fucking up and left out of nowhere and haven’t spoken to me in almost a month.” his voice was filled with anger, his nose flaring as he clenched his jaw.

you let out a humorless laugh, “out of nowhere? you can’t be serious, rafe. you treated me like shit the last few months of our relationship.” you didn’t yet mention seeing his interaction with the bartender at the country club, not knowing if topper and kelce had told him about seeing you when you left that fateful day.

“what? be-because i couldn’t be with you twenty-four fucking seven? like i- i wasn’t out working my ass off to afford nice shit for you?”

“‘working your ass off’ will you stop fucking lying to me? i fucking saw you at the country club,” his facial expression showed confusion, bringing his brows together to try and understand what you were talking about, “you let that bitch touch you, you looked at her how you used to look at me. i spent hours getting ready, i showed up, wanting to surprise my boyfriend for lunch, and what do i see? my boyfriend letting some bartender hang off of him while he flirts with her?”

your voice had raised as you got more and more angry. you were now shouting at him as other partygoers failed to hide their stares and murmuring. nobody ever talked to the kook prince the way you currently were, unless they wanted their face bashed in.

rafe grabbed your arm harshly, pulling you down the beach and away from others. you stumbled behind him, knowing you weren’t physically or mentally strong enough to push him away.

when you looked up at him, you suddenly noticed his blown-out pupils. you felt your heart sink. “you’re using again.” you stated flatly.

he scoffed, rolling his eyes at you. “don’t act like you fucking care.” he spat out at you.

“jesus fucking christ- rafe, when did you start again?”

“don’t worry about it. when did you come to the country club?” his tone was demanding, sparking further irritation in you.

“the day i left. i- i let a lot of shit slide for too long, because… because i wanted to be a good girlfriend and support you when i thought you were just stressed out from work. and, in return, i get to watch my boyfriend make me look like a fucking idiot.”

rafe was silent for a minute, his lips pursed as he clearly was trying to remember what he was doing before he came home to an angry ward and an empty room. then realization hit him, he knew exactly what you were talking about. he brought his palm up to his face, groaning.

when he was about to speak, he was cut off. “is cameron bothering you?” jj’s familiar voice called out. you looked past rafe’s large figure to see all of the pogues standing beside him, looking ready for a fight if it came to it.

rafe gave a humorless chuckle, “stay the fuck out of it, pogue.” he clearly wouldn’t go down without a fight either.

your heart stopped for a moment and your body filled with ice cold terror as jj pulled out a gun that was hidden behind his back in his waistband. it was clear you weren’t the only one not expecting it as the rest of them looked at jj with concern, john b telling him to put it away. “yeah? let’s fucking go, rafe. been itching for a fight for too long.”

everything became blurred. the mixture of shouting, seeing figures suddenly moving towards each other, and the unmistakeable sound of a gunshot, and then everything went black.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

A race for love p.1

Hii guys! I've had this idea on my mind for a while, and with today's exciting announcement of Franco joining F1, I couldn't think of a better moment to finally put it into words. On the flip side, my heart goes out to Logan. It's heartbreaking to see how he's been treated, and I truly wish him all the best moving forward.

Barcelona June of 2023

When people find out you're Zak Brown's daughter, they automatically assume your life is filled with glitz and glamour. They think you're friends with all the drivers, jet-setting to every race, and living a perfect life surrounded by the thrill of Formula 1. From the outside, it seems like you've got it all — but the reality is a lot different.

You can't really complain, but your life is far from perfect. Most of the time, you don’t even see your dad because he’s constantly travelling with the team. The rare moments you do get to see him are usually fleeting, sandwiched between his hectic schedule. You’d love to go to more races, but this year you had to focus on finishing high school with the best grades possible. Getting into aerospace engineering was your dream, and it demanded every ounce of your attention and effort.

And then there are the misconceptions about your social life. People assume you have a wide circle of friends, thanks to your dad’s connections, but the truth is quite the opposite. You have a small group of close friends, and that’s more than enough for you. You're naturally shy and have learned to be cautious about who you let into your life. Trust doesn’t come easily when you constantly worry that people might want to get close to you just to get a taste of the paddock lifestyle. It's a burden you've had to carry, learning to guard your heart and keep your circle tight.

Now that you’ve graduated from high school, a weight lifts off your shoulders. Your hard work has paid off, and you finally have the chance to reconnect with your dad and spend some time in the world that has always been on the periphery of your life. As you arrive at the paddock to visit him and the McLaren team, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbles up inside you. The hum of engines and the bustling energy are both familiar and foreign, and you find yourself wondering what this day will bring. With each step, you try to steady your breath, eager for what’s to come.

You’re so wrapped up in your own world that you don’t notice the boy on the scooter coming straight toward you.

Before you can react, there’s a sudden jolt as he bumps into you, knocking you off balance. You stumble slightly, but neither of you falls, just barely managing to steady yourself as you blink in surprise.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” the boy says quickly, hopping off his scooter and reaching out a hand. “Are you okay?”

You’re too stunned to reply immediately. Your heart races, more from shock than from the slight impact. As you regain your bearings, you finally look at him. He’s about your age, with tousled brown hair that falls slightly over his forehead and warm brown eyes that are looking at you with genuine concern. He’s wearing a bright red uniform that you recognize as belonging to either Prema Racing or Ferrari’s junior program, but you don’t recognize him as a Formula 1 driver.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” you manage to say awkwardly, your voice a little shaky. “I was just… distracted.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, a smile breaking through his worried expression. “Good, I was worried I’d completely knocked you over. You were kind of in a world of your own there.”

You feel your cheeks heat up a bit. “Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I’m just… overwhelmed by everything here.”

He chuckles softly, his eyes still studying you with curiosity. “I get it. It can be a lot, especially if you’re not used to it. Are you here for the race?”

You nod, trying to find your words as his gaze makes you feel even more flustered. “Sort of. I’m visiting my dad, actually. He works with McLaren.”

His eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, and a look of realization crosses his face. “Ah, that’s cool! McLaren’s got a great setup here.”

You nod again, feeling a bit more self-conscious under his friendly but inquisitive gaze. “Yeah, they do. I’m just here to see him and, you know, check out the paddock.”

“Well, welcome to the chaos!” he says, flashing you a quick grin. “I’m really sorry again about almost running you over. I’ve got to get going, but maybe I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, maybe,” you say, still feeling a bit flustered but starting to relax as his easygoing nature puts you at ease.

With a quick wave, he jumps back on his scooter and speeds off, disappearing into the crowd. You watch him go, a small smile tugging at your lips as you shake your head, still a bit dazed by the encounter. The day is already turning out to be more interesting than you expected.

As the weekend goes by, you have an amazing time with your dad, the engineers, and the drivers, Lando and Oscar. It’s everything you could have wished for: laughter, excitement, and a glimpse into the world you’ve always been curious about. The hours fly by as you get to see behind the scenes, experience the high energy of the pit lane, and even share some inside jokes with the team. Yet, in the back of your mind, you can’t help but think about the boy you met on the first day — the one with the warm smile and the kind eyes.

By the last day of the race weekend, you realize you’re still thinking about him. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you decide to sneak out of the F1 paddock and venture into the F2 and F3 paddocks in search of the boy. It proves to be more challenging than you anticipated; the paddocks are bustling with activity, and you have no idea who he is or even which team he’s with.

As you wander around, you stop here and there to watch the cars and people working. The atmosphere is different from the F1 paddock — more relaxed, but still full of intensity and focus. One car, in particular, catches your eye. It’s a sleek F3 car with bold graphics, and you find yourself drawn to it. You step a little closer, noticing the intricate details on the bodywork and the way the team is adjusting the front wing. You’ve always been interested in engineering, and seeing the mechanics in action up close fascinates you.

You’re so engrossed that you don’t notice when someone approaches from behind.

“Hey there,” a voice says, startling you. You jump slightly and spin around, your heart racing as you come face-to-face with another boy, about your age. He has dark hair and bright eyes, and he’s grinning at you with a playful expression.

“Oh! I—uh, I’m sorry,” you stammer, suddenly feeling nervous. “I didn’t mean to— I wasn’t doing anything, I promise!”

He laughs, holding up his hands as if to calm you down. “Whoa, it’s okay! You’re not in trouble. Just surprised to see someone so interested in my car.”

You blink, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Oh, this is your car?”

“Yep, my pride and joy,” he says with a wink. “Franco Colapinto, at your service. I drive for MP Motorsport in F3.” He leans against the car casually, still smiling at you.

You can’t help but smile back, his easygoing nature putting you at ease. “I’m sorry, I just— I didn’t mean to stare or anything. I’m just really interested in how these cars work. They’re amazing.”

“Don’t apologize,” Franco says, his tone light and teasing. “I think it’s great. Most people just walk by and don’t even notice the cars unless they’re on track. It’s nice to see someone appreciate them up close.”

You nod, feeling a little more confident now. “Yeah, I guess I just got caught up in it all. I’m visiting with my dad, and I thought I’d take a look around.”

“Glad you did,” he replies, giving you a playful nudge. “So, what brings you over to the F3 side? Looking for anyone in particular?”

You hesitate, not wanting to seem too eager, but his friendly demeanor encourages you to open up a bit. “Actually, I met someone on the first day. A boy on a scooter. I don’t know his name or what team he’s with, but I thought maybe I’d see him again.”

Franco raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “A boy on a scooter, huh? I’m not sure who you’re looking for, but I hope you find him.”

“Thanks,” you say softly, feeling a bit shy under his teasing gaze. “It’s probably silly, I know.”

“Not at all,” he says, his tone warm. “It’s not every day you meet someone who leaves an impression. Besides, I think it’s kind of cute.”

You feel your cheeks heat up again, but you manage a smile. “Well, thanks. And thanks for not kicking me out for looking at your car.”

Franco laughs. “Hey, any time. It’s not every day someone appreciates my car as much as I do. Tell you what, if you ever want a tour, just let me know.”

“That sounds fun,” you say, genuinely intrigued. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

“I hope you do,” he says, and there’s something genuine in his voice that makes you feel a little flutter in your chest. “Hey, before you go, can I get your number? You know, just in case you need a guide around here or want to talk more about cars.”

You smile, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. “Sure, why not?” You take out your phone and exchange numbers, his fingers brushing yours slightly as he hands your phone back, making your heart skip a beat.

“Great,” he says with a grin. “I’ll text you later. Maybe I can help you find that mystery boy.”

“Maybe,” you reply with a laugh. “But I should get back to my dad before he starts wondering where I am.”

“Alright, but don’t be a stranger,” Franco says, giving you a friendly wave as you start to walk away.

“See you around, Franco,” you say, feeling lighter and happier than you have all weekend. As you make your way back to the F1 paddock, you can’t help but smile, your thoughts filled with the unexpected new friend you’ve just made.

[anadiasmount]

of course it’s real - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: what happens when he suddenly shows up on your doorstep? could be a leap of reconciliation or something completely different?

wc: 3.5k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

➡️ part one: is this real?

psa 🗣️: this is part two to the long-awaited is this real fic! this a +18 post, so minors dni as it contains fingering, and unprotected sex 🔞. just a small bit of smut since someone requested in the fic! hope you enjoy 🤍 once again, contains mature content for 18+!

“Hi… Uh- sure come in,” you stammered, your heart beating out your chest quickly. It came as a shock to you that he was standing there, after weeks and months of not seeing him. Why was he here? Did he come to ask for something back? Jude felt the same way, pulse rate quicker than before he knocked on your brown door, before seeing you dressed up fancy. He was followed by Duke, who quickly came into Jude’s embrace, kissing Jude’s cheek, and wagging his tail. 

“You know you can’t be here right?” you ask, crossing your arms against your chest. “Who says that?” Jude retorts, standing back up and fiddling with his pants. “Well, you just finished with your club, now going into the International break. Shouldn’t you be at camp instead of here?” you question, walking to retrieve your bag and shoes. 

“Going somewhere?” Jude said, a protective maybe jealous tone undermining the tone from before. He was curious, maybe small taken at back because of how stunning you looked. It reminded him when the two of you were together and went out on date nights. Holding hands, sharing kisses, hugs, and nights of passionate sex. The memory of him gifting you a necklace with his initial to you popping into his head.

All he could come up with now is either you going on a date or attending an important event. “Yeah, I was invited to an art show so I'm headed there with friends for the evening,” you offer a small smile, to which Jude cheered on the inside.  So you couldn't be dating again, or have moved on right? “My friend Giovan is waiting Jude… I don’t want it to seem like I'm kicking you out but I have somewhere to be.”

Giovan? Who the fuck was that? Jude thought. “I wanted to talk to you about us.” 

“What do you mean? We ended a while ago…” you reply, not failing to notice Jude wincing at your words. A small frown on his face, brows drawn in and him biting the inside of his cheek. “Please… I just want you to hear me out. We can go on from there… I really miss you ba- Y/n…” 

You felt your heart tighten and beat faster. A pang of hurt and betrayal took over you, and all you wanted was to now stay in as old memories resurfaced of your healing stage. Refusing to go out, the routine you built, constantly blaming yourself for not being enough, you weren't trusting Jude’s words anymore. 

“Uh-” you shook your head and laughed trying to hold back tears. If you would have heard this the day you broke up or even a couple of days after, you would have gladly accepted him back. Maybe you could've been in Spain with him, going on walks with Duke, taking care of his injuries, being the girlfriend he wanted. But this was reality, and as much as it hurt, you wanted to protect yourself from another heartbreak. 

“I don’t know Jude. I don’t know what you want me to say,” you said nervously, shifting your weight from one foot to another. Tell me that you miss me too, tell me that you still love me the way I love you, tell me there's still a chance for us, tell me you’re still mine, was what Jude wanted to say, but once again he was left without words. 

“I have to go-”

“What if I come with you? I promise I won't pull anything. But please, we can talk there, hang out, like old times,” he proposed the idea. “What, like pretending to be the couple we were? What if I don’t want to hear what you have to say? What if you are lying again?” you say finally, having built up the courage and patience to spit out how you felt. While it felt relieving, you didn’t want to hurt the man you still love. 

“I think you're trying to avoid confrontation Y/n. I know you. Plus, you still wouldn’t be wearing my necklace if it didn't mean anything,” he walked over, his index finger connecting with the charm, watching how he had an effect on you. Your breathing rapidly increased, watching how your chest pumped in and out trying to control it. Fuck, was all you thought, he caught you. 

You look up and see how his brown iris gaze into you, a dingle of hope plastered on them. His lashes reached his top eyelid, and then touched his cheek as he blinked. Unbeknownst to the two of you, but your bodies were closely together now, one move from the two of you, and you would be pressed up. You cleared your throat and backed away, playing with the charm as you spoke, “This is such a bad idea…”

“But why does it feel so right? So real,” Jude said, shrugging his shoulders. This could end badly, maybe you running out of the showcase in tears or cause a scene and embarrass yourself in front of your coworkers. But maybe it could be the opposite, who knows, only faith undermining the situation. “Please. I wouldn't be here if it didn't mean anything,” he begged again, to which you sighed and finally accepted. 

“I have a suit in my luggage, give me a couple of minutes to change and fix my hair and we can head out okay?” Jude said, but you were afraid to speak, only muttering a quick ‘okay’. Jude was like a drug, an addictive one, and as much as you wanted to let go, it was becoming difficult. It didn't seem real. It couldn't be real, right? But when you saw him come out now dressed, you knew there was no way to deny your true feelings. 

The Uber driver played slow and relaxed music, you leaned against the car window, your hand propped up to hold your head as you watched out. Jude being freakishly tall struggled with his legs, finally just spreading them apart and watching as you looked out. He wanted to reach over and pull you into him, kiss your head down to your neck, whisper words of encouragement, and hold you like he once did. But he couldn’t not knowing if you were willing to let him do so. 

When the two of you walk into the exhibit, a photographer takes a couple of photos, asking you to pose and embrace each other. As awkward as it may have been, Jude didn't let the opportunity of his hand coming around your waist and pulling you into a protective matter go to waste. His touch ignited a fire in you, a familiar sense of butterflies invading your tummy as his thumb drew circles over the material. 

You couldn't help but wrap your hand around his bicep, feeling the prominent muscles he built over the months as you walked inside the venue. He was huge compared to a while back. You smiled and guided him to your friends, to which you embraced and talked to. Giovan hugged you tight, too close for Jude’s liking, which made him clench his fist and jaw at the sight. But oh boy was he wrong. 

“And who is this handsome lad? Don’t tell me this is your man or I'll be upset Y/n,” Giovan said in a flirtatious tone, fluttering his eyelashes and extending his hand, to which Jude shook. A tint of blush and redness spread across his cheeks, making you smirk and giggle. “Not my man, just an old friend who has come down to visit me,” you intervene, standing aside to where Jude silently begged with his eyes. 

“Alright now Gio, settle down, don't scare him off now,” you joke, to which your friend just rolls his eyes and smiles. “Of course not! I'll see the two of you around, maybe you can buy me a drink,” he hinted to Jude who just nodded shyly. You look away laughing to which Jude embarrassed chuckles, “It's not funny.” 

But the playful mood turned awkward again as you roamed the exhibit of paintings, photography and sculptures. You came across a painting of white swans who looked over at the sunset, cuddled into their embraces, far away and disclosed to where the exhibit was held. It was minimal lighting and no other people.

It reminded you of when Jude broke things off, leaving for Spain, and then again when he caught you moving out. You close your eyes and shake away the memory, but Jude sees. “Are you okay?” 

“Why are you here Jude?” you ask again, you’re tired of the constant confused signals and feelings for him. For once you want him to be straight on how he feels about you, instead of continuing this cycle of unsureness. 

“I’m here for you… to fix us…” Jude says you let out a laugh of disbelief. You find the strength to look him in the eyes as he talks. “There is no us anymore Jude, you broke that off.”

“That’s why I'm here. I want to fix us and earn you back. If it's not you then it's no one. I'm really hoping you can forgive me, for what I did and the pain I cost you. I never meant for all this to happen, I thought I knew what I wanted but I was so so wrong Y/n. You shaped me into who I am today, and I'll forever be thankful for that. You made me into the person I am and without you, I'm so lost,” Jude pleads, his eyes glossy as he reaches for your hands. 

“I was stupid to let you go, to lose all the trust you built for me. I’ll admit it, I was only thinking of myself instead of you when I broke it off, but I was scared of losing you. It's true I didn't know what I wanted but I do now. You being so distant from me right now is breaking my heart because I feel like I lost you. Did I lose you, baby?” he continued, your eyes brimming with tears at his soft tone when asking his question. 

What if it was too late? What if you couldn't love him or be enough like you expected? What if there was no point in trying again if it meant the same outcome? Were you seriously going to risk everything for a guy who proved in the past they didn't think of anyone but themselves? 

Your silence was killing Jude. Maybe he did hurt you, and he could never recover from that if that was the case. This whole time being apart, from the day at the park to you moving your stuff out, to now, the distance was becoming a long and heavy weight on his shoulders. To not know how you felt, to not hear your voice, to hold you close afraid of letting go always popped into his head. Spending his nights unable to sleep, or even go out. 

“You really hurt me… I never expected you to suddenly give up on us, especially when we were doing so good? We were happy, at least I was. I was not only watching you succeed, but I was watching my favourite person in the world, stay with me at my side, promising me that nothing would come between us. If you had those feelings why didn’t you ever say anything? Why couldn't you just talk to me, like I always said?” you finally break your silence, a tear dropping from your cheek. 

“It's hurting me that you're here. It hurt me when the only person in the world I ever trusted suddenly wanted to let go. It hurt me back when I moved out, knowing it was probably the last time I would see you. It hurts to be reminded of you, and remember the good times we had because I knew they would never come back. But most of all, it hurts me to see you sad and upset,” you sob, turning away from his teary eyes not being able to take the pain. 

You felt his arms hug you, his embrace warm and comforting, and as you found yourself leaning into it, you could hear his rapid heartbeat like yours. Feel the pain slowly disappear from your veins and finally gain control. The nights of constant terrors and crying, on a stream swimming away when he breathed into you. You felt at home. The butterflies and intimate contact now swarming your chest and tummy once again.  

“If I knew how to take your pain away, I would do it. To see you hurting because of me, is hard. But I want you to know I’ve matured, that I'm willing to do anything it takes to have you back and call you mine. It's not because it feels like it's something I have to do, or live up to, it's because I truly am nothing without you,” he held your cheek in his larger palm, his other arm securely on your waist wrapped around. 

“I'm not myself, my friends and family have noticed. If your presence isn't next to mine, it's like I'm running on my head overthinking, I'm just lost.”

“Jude-”

“I love you. I've never stopped, and I don't think I ever will…” and there he said, the three words he once confessed to you before, repeated again. The three words that mean so much more than his confession, the words you've been longing to hear but are so afraid of because it will forever mean more than a simple “I want you back’ or “I miss you.” You gasped, taking a gulp of nothing because this was real. 

“Is this real?” you asked, pointing at the two of you, watching as Jude’s face softened even more. A small frown on his lips and brows relaxed, the wrinkle on his eyes as he blinked hard appearing. “Yes.”

“I'm saying is everything you're telling me now real? No bullshit. No more lies. No unsureness. Is this real, Jude?” A feeling of hope filled his chest, replacing the torture he felt before. “This is more than real. You’re the realest thing that I've ever experienced, and I want it to be like that, forever.”

“Forever?” you ask again, your brow raising as confirmation to which he let out a small laugh, “Yes. Forever. If we do this again, you're not leaving my side, and I'm not leaving yours. Forever.”

“Then what the hell are we waiting for? Kiss me Jude.”

He gave you one more look to confirm things but you quickly got on your tippy toes and smashed your lips against his. Jude pushed you up against the wall, hands roaming down to your hips where he gripped them tightly. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip tasting the familiar cherry taste he loved so deeply. Your hands moved all around his chest, finally gripping the back of his neck, drawing a small moan when he bit your lip. 

He kissed you again, lips never separating from you as he picked you up and once again caged on the wall. Your legs come around his torso, your core throbbing and rubbing against his upper abs. “Jude we can’t… not here. They will hear us…” you whimper when he kisses the inner corners of your mouth, and then down to your jaw. “Then you’ll have to be quiet. You can do that, be a good girl for me and be quiet.”

Your chin slightly trembled as he continued to kiss all the way down to your collarbone, inhaling your scent. Marking you as his, and leaving a purple mark on the hot skin. All you could do was move your hips around and try to feel the friction to get rid of the sensitivity you felt, but it was hard when Jude kept pulling back. “Is that what you want? For me to touch you?” he groaned, voice huskier and deep as he pulled you into a messy kiss. 

There was no way you could go back and let people see you like this. But you couldn't care, all you could care about was the way Jude set you down and dragged his fingertips from your calves to your inner thighs.His nails tickling and drawing shaped as he kissed and marked your boob once more.

His trail felt hot, he was teasing you, your legs squirmed around to find his touch. And when you finally grew enough of his games, you grabbed his wrist, and placed it exactly where you wanted him. “Here Jude. I want you to touch me here, please,” you whispered in his ear, biting the skin and pressing a small kiss. Jude ran his hand on top of your clothed core, noticing the wet material behind it. 

“Once I make you cum, you're all mine. Do you understand?” 

“I’ve always been yours,” and with that he dragged his fingers against your wet folds, rubbing a circle on your clit, making you let out a gasp. “That’s right baby. You've always been mine pretty girl,” he smiled against your lips, kissing your top lip. His fingers teased your entrance, groaning at how wet you were, causing you to clench your legs around his hand and look away. “Open your legs baby… Let me touch you just how you like.”

He kissed your cheek, and used his free hand to bring your face back to his gently. “Focus on me baby,” he pecked your jaw, “Focus on my touch,” Jude placed another kiss on your cheek, “Focus on my fingers,” he kissed your shoulder as his fingers finally drew inside of you, “Focus on my lips,” without hesitation you kissed him to hide the loud moan that would've left your mouth. 

His fingers were completely coated with your arousal, easily sinking them deeper as he drew them in and out. Your body shuddered, back arching against the wall as his fingers drew and now your clit were all being touched. You felt starved, completely vulnerable at his sake. 

“It feels s-s-so good, Jude,” you whined, your head thrown back as you kept a tight grip on his white blouse. “I know, but I can feel it, you’re almost there for me. So tight, always tight,” he moaned, his cock becoming harder than before. He heard your pants, small whines as you kept grinding on his hand, the cold tingle he felt down his spine as you shivered against him. 

Jude picked up the pace, sighing with pleasure when you felt his bulge, and almost shamingly came. “S-s-shit baby.”

He nibbled on your neck to quiet down the noises the two of you were making, leaving wet kisses all over your tainted skin, feeling your lips quivering in pleasure as he finally made you reach your high. You cried out, and sucked in a sharp breath when he hit that certain spot, the one he always found, either with his fingers or cock. 

“All mine.” 

Jude quickly untucked his belt, and took his hard cock out the tightness off his boxers, grunting at the cold air in the room. “Can you still be quiet for me? One more, just one more for me…” he kissed you and quickly picked you up again, holding you strongly so you wouldn't fall, but he couldn't help himself but pin you hands above your head. 

“If it becomes too much tell me,” Jude said, dragging the tip along your wet fold before finally sinking into you. Your back was completely pinned against the wall, sliding up and down as he began to thrust into you slowly but rough. He moved mindlessly, drawing out sounds from the two of you as he thrusted into you deeper. Your name fell out his lips, causing you to squeeze your legs around him, also your wet folds around his cock at the same time. 

You felt like heaven, and Jude was sure he would be cumming quickly. The two of you were close, so close that in a few more thrust the two of you would be moaning in relief. He let go of your pinned wrists, his two hands now on your hips as he slowly drew in and out, harder and deeper. “God, you feel so good. Doing so good for me… God I love you,” he kissed you, your hand resting on the back of his head returning the kiss. 

He continued to breathlessly move inside you, his forehead on your shoulder to reduce the sounds of his moans and groans. The art frames on the wall banging due the pace of his thrust, but he couldn't care. But when you continued to clench around him, Jude continuing the pace he was doing, your bodies trembled in pleasure, having Jude prep his hand in the wall so the two of you wouldnt fall. You could feel it, the way you pulsed around his cock, the ropes of cum he continued to spurt into you. 

“I love you,” he kissed his initial and then lips, now that were slightly swollen after making out for a while. You brushed the hairs on his temple that were messy back into place, smiling like an idiot as he remained still inside you. 

“I love you too Jude.”

➡️tags: @xjval 🤍

[taestefully-in-luv]

Our Time | JJK (Seven)

Summary: After an accident and being in a coma for three months, you finally wake. But the last nine years of your life have been completely erased. You rely on none other than your best friend, Jungkook, to help regain your memories and yourself. But what happens when the truth of your missing time starts unraveling and it isn’t all it’s made out to be?

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader (Detective!Jk x Graphic Designer!OC) side pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: crime au, fluff, heavy angst, smut, romance, darker themes, amnesia au. Best friends to ???

Word Count: 12.4k

Warnings: seriously depressing (for now) swearing, mentions of alcoholism, allusions to cheating

a/n: Hiiiiiii, long time no see!! Sorry for the delay and thank you for waiting. This story is at a depressing point (lol) so forgive me! I hope you guys can enjoy this chapter too 🥺 Well, I hope you guys enjoy and  please let me know what you think! Send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat :]

Previous --- Next

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An eternity has passed since you’ve last seen Jungkook…a total of six weeks. Each day has gotten equally harder as it has gotten easier. You think it’s just your body slowly getting used to his absence but your mind is yearning. Yearning and hurting.

But there is something that’s also painful like missing your ex-husband—your best friend—and it’s the videos of your life. A life you know nothing of. 

If you thought pictures were hard, videos are much harder.

But you asked for this. You asked your parents and your friends to send you old pictures and videos of times you don’t remember living.

You’re seeing pictures of you and your friends in restaurants you don’t know. Bars you don’t know. Concerts for artists you don’t know. Pictures of you in your bedroom, but it’s a bedroom you don’t know. 

You have haircuts and styles you don’t know.

In the videos, you hear yourself laughing at inside jokes you don’t know. You’re using vocab and slang you don’t know. You see yourself giggling and joking around with people you. don’t. know. And you feel more like an outsider than ever. Not just to this world but to the girl you see on screen, you are an outsider to herworld. 

Perhaps you’ve gotten too use to separating your different selves. And perhaps that makes it harder to unite with them.

Past you is current you but current you thinks of current you as future you. 

It’s all a headache to think about. 

You know they’re all you but because you’ve kept them separate, it’s somehow becoming the shackles that stops all the you’s from uniting. 

And that’s what needs to happen for all of your memories to return. You have to unite 24 year old you and 33 year old you. It’s only your sanity on the line.

Now that you’ve discovered a couple of things, the only way to go from here is to intentionally spark your memories—in any way. You have to. Because you know 33 year old you has started something...

You quickly tear your eyes from the video on screen to take a quick peak towards the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You’ve visited the attic a few times because of all of the memories that are stored in there.

But those boxes are filled with more than just memories.

Your eyes go back to your phone in hand as your thumb hesitantly hovers over the screen. You know you should move on to another video but it almost feels like you don’t have it in you. You don’t have it in you to stop listening to the sound of your child’s laughter when you can’t recognize it.

You don’t have it in you to stop the possibility of triggering your brain to suddenly remember him. 

You finally force your thumb to the screen and you quickly pause it. You take in a sharp breath before exiting the video to scroll through the five videos your mom sent you. You see Haru in all five. And you can see Jungkook in three of them. You chose one where you couldn’t see Jungkook. 

But this video of Haru’s giggles feels just as heartbreaking but more than anything, it feels frustrating. Because you don’t know him. 

And that feels like an unbearable heartache on its own.

Suddenly, your eyes bounce from the video thumbnails to the text your mom just sent you.

Mom 7:28am

Good morning! We’re our way to the station and should arrive in Seoul around 2pm. You’re still picking us up, right?

You slowly close your already drooping eyes, the moment way too brief before you open them again, glancing towards the living room windows where the obvious sunlight comes through. Another night you didn’t sleep. Your eyes battling your brain. You might get a few hours if you try to sleep now, at the least. 

~

“I just don’t understand how you can drink those all day,” Your mother’s eyes go from the knife in her hand to the iced coffee in yours. “I know it’s got to be giving you heartburn.” She laughs a little while shaking her head, eyes going back down to the cutting board where she chops onions.

You blink at your mom before dropping your eyes to the coffee in your hand, “Wait, is this why?” 

She chuckles again, “Must be from your dads side of the family.” She shrugs now, letting the onions slide off the board and into a pan.

You roll your eyes at your moms playful comment before sliding the coffee away from you as you sit at your kitchen island, “Anyway, dad’s kind of taking a while, no?” You glance around the kitchen as if he would suddenly appear here. 

Your mom smiles to herself while her hands remain busy with cooking dinner, “Yeah, he’s waiting for me to text him saying he can come back from the store.”

You can’t help but snort since you know exactly what she means.

Back when you were a teenager and going through life’s woes that made the whole world feel like it was ending, you would have your meltdowns. Period cramps that made you moody, a friend talking behind your back, the boy you liked was seen kissing someone else. All the things your dad left your mom to handle. He would suddenly want to go to the store and she would somehow signal him when it was safe to return—after the two of you got to talk out whatever was bothering you.

You realize she’s done it now.

“You never used to take this long to tell me what was going on though.” Your mom says quietly, eyes trained on the stove.  “Especially not about Jungkook.” She sighs as she reaches for the wooden spoon before stirring the ingredients. 

You feel something sharp inside your chest, just at the mention of his name, like there’s a sharp knife.

You turn your face to the side, something uncomfortable and electric tightens your jaw. As if it’s a burning signal that even the mere mention of Jungkook, makes you want to cry. But you won’t. “Well, mom.” You take a deep breath before looking towards her again with a sarcastic smile. “Our marriage wasn’t exactly as perfect as you thought.”

You hope this is enough for her to realize that Haru’s disappearance wasn’t the wedge that created such distance between you and your now, ex-husband. 

You stare at the back of your mom’s head as she stands at the stove, still cooking. You wonder if she’s in utter shock at the revelation that perhaps Jungkook isn’t perfect. And your marriage definitely wasn’t. You wait and wait. But you see how she starts adding in a few other things.

“I said—”

“—What marriage is perfect?” Your mom finally turns around, cutting you off with a raised brow. “I never thought that. I’ll never think that. About anyone.” She scoffs before turning towards the stove again. “I told you that you didn’t usually take this long to talk about Jungkook with me.”

You don’t say anything.

Your mom turns her head towards you for a moment, you see the corner of her lip barely start to lift, like a knowing smile wants to form but her frown decides not to budge, “You were married to him for years…you don’t think you’ve come to complain to me?”

You understand her almost smirk now. She faces forward towards the stove again.

“Maybe around six months before Haru’s…incident. You came to Busan and I could tell something was up and you needed to talk.” Your mom rests a hand on her hip, while the other reaches for the stove knob as she turns it down. “But just like now…” She turns her head to eye you again, her worries pulling her lips into a deeper frown. “You took a while to tell me.”

You don’t really react. Not as your brain processes this information.

Your mom continues, “So I know your marriage wasn’t perfect. Jungkook’s not perfect. You’re not perfect.” She exhales through her nose in a half laugh. “I’m not perfect. Your father’s not either. But what’s between us…it has to be protected.” 

“Unless that person betrays you.” You say in a low voice, eyes going to your fingers as you pick at your cuticles. “And you lose your trust in them.”

You hear your mom at the stove again as she turns it off and puts the lid on the pan. After a moment you see your mother in your peripherals as she comes to the other side of the counter and sits next to you. 

“You mentioned something similar back then.” She says quietly, her face looking ahead. “But then I thought…well, that you thought it wasn’t what you thought.”

You quickly turn your head in your moms direction, eyes on hers. What all did you say to her? “Well, it was.” You say firmly. 

Your mom’s eyebrows pull together slowly, something similar to confliction rising in her eyes. “And how exactly did Jungkook betray you?” She asks after a moment.

And it feels pathetic, the feeling of all the muscles in your face betraying your collected appearance. So pathetic that the answer to this question makes your expression twist and break off the cracking mask that is now crumbling and falling from your face. 

It takes less than an instant for your heartbreak to be written all over. 

Your mom puts a hand to your back, letting you cry it out. 

Just like you did when you were a moody teenager and the only one who understood your meltdowns was your mom. She lets you know that once again, that no matter how small or how big—you had every right to feel the way you wanted to. 

You cry, a soft pat repeating on your back as you mumble how sad you are and how embarrassing this is. 

This short cry feels more like relief in the right company rather than something that is rocking your world in the worst way.

Your mom chuckles a little, pulling away from you. “Embarrassing?”

“Yeah.” You nod with a shameless smile and damp cheeks. “I know you know the me that’s been married to him for years but in my eyes we’ve been on one date and he was our neighbor. So I feel like you should be teasing me about us but you’re here with more knowledge about my marriage than me.” You laugh as you cry more, “So it’s a bit embarrassing.”

“Hm,” Your mom chuckles again, “I guess I can understand that.”

You nod while your fingers wipe beneath your eyes repeatedly, they’re only teary now.

Your mom brings her hand away from you, her fingers intertwining on top of the counter. You watch as she stares down at her hands in thought before she finally sighs and turns your way with a small smile. “Talk to me, y/n. You’re convinced Jungkook betrayed you in some way—ways I can only assume—but tell me, do you really think he’s capable of what you’re thinking?”

You study your mother’s expression for a long moment, brows beginning to furrow when you realize she doesn’t buy it. Tearing your eyes away from her, your lips twist in annoyance, “Are you saying I shouldn’t believe in my own memories?”

You hear your mom sigh again, “You remembered something unpleasant, y/n. I’m not saying I don’t believe you…but even back then,” She pauses, hoping you will look at her but you don’t. She finally continues, “Things just didn’t add up…”

You’re quick to find her eye again, “What all did I tell you?”

At this, your mother scoffs lightly, her small smile still on her lips. “Nothing that really made sense. Seemed like you just…couldn’t tell me things. But I’m not dumb, you know? You drop plenty of hints when you get talking.”

“Oh.” You blink at her, wishing you could even remember whatever hints she’s referring to. 

“But the issue is that you stopped talking. You got quiet.” Your mother looks back at her hands again, her gaze hardening. “Then when Haru’s incident happened…you shut us all out. Everyone…” She whispers, lines between her brows forming, a hint of disappointment in her voice that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Even Jungkook.”

You can’t help but feel that same knife start slicing open the inside of your chest at the mention of his name again. “Probably because it’s his fau—”

“—He lost Haru too, y/n.” Your mom cuts you off, her eyes that are filled with something close to anger land on you. “You both did and what’s worse is that you both lost one another in the process.”

“I don’t remember the process but I’m sure I had a hard time even looking him in the eye.” You spit out. “You don’t know what happ—”

“—Do you?” She throws back at you. “Because you have yet to give me a story that makes even a little sense.”

Your heart starts screaming like someone just squeezed it way too hard. You force yourself to look away because tears that no one invited start to form. You feel done with this conversation but before you can announce its over, your mom sighs again and her palm rests against your back and you don’t have it in you to shove her off.

“I’m sorry.” She mutters softly, almost sounding regretful. “I am. You have no idea…” You feel her hand slowly retreat from your back, “How sometimes I would just pray you wouldn’t get your memories back. So you wouldn’t…” 

Your mother’s voice grows much softer, almost too quiet to hear. 

“Seeing you heartbroken all over again hurts us, y/n. I thought it would be easier…for you. But I guess it’s just easier for us.” She admits, a sharpness in her tone that indicates her regret. “There’s no way you would live happier if parts of you felt missing.” 

You feel her words stick to your skin uncomfortably, like sweat from the hot sun rather than a run you worked for. It’s unpleasant but also unwelcomed. 

Unwelcomed because you don’t want to accept a life where that could be the case—forced to live a life even with parts of you missing.

An uncomfortable reality and possibility.

“More than…” You begin, hands lifting to gesture towards nothing. “This is more than just Jungkook.”

Your mom chuckles to herself. “Of course I know that.”

“I’m starting to wonder what would feel worse,” You glance towards your empty hands before your fingers clutch nothing softly. “Remembering my child. Or not remembering my child.” Then your lips curl into a half smile that feels so empty as you silently cringe toward yourself, “It doesn’t even feel right saying ‘my’…” you immediately halt, teeth suddenly piercing into your bottom lip. You don’t even feel right calling Haru ‘your’ child. Because you don’t feel like his mother.

You try to keep the half smile plastered on your face but the sharp shock of tears that fill your eyes betray your wants. You quickly blink them away.

“I want to hate Jungkook so bad for so many reasons,” You admit before clearing your throat, “But I mostly hate him because at least he would recognize our sons laugh while I don’t. I hate him because I blame him but at least he knows the kid that I hate him for.” 

Also an uncomfortable reality. 

“Well,” Your mothers tone lets you know she’s about to change the subject. “You had a doctor’s appointment recently, right? How did it go?”

You shake your head, “He said the progress can be really slow…and that it’s normal for the brain to block out certain traumatic events. So much…” You pause.

“So much what?”

You sigh, “So much doesn’t make sense. It has me feeling so restless.”

“I’m sorry.” Your mom releases a shaky breathy before you hear her voice crack. “I’m so sorry.”

“You know what’s the worst part?” You decide to keep the venting session going. “I just feel ashamed. I’m a parent but I don’t even know about it. I feel so lost. I don’t think if I was given a child I could—”

“This doesn’t make you less of a mother, y/n.” Your mom snaps her eyes in your direction, a fierceness in them. “You are still a parent. A damn good one at that.”

You study your mother’s expression with a fondness, because you see her sincerity. This makes your eyes sting again. “Thanks, mom.”

~

After a nice weekend with your parent’s, you decide you’ve been resting enough. You want to start working again, having too much time on your hands seems like a problem nowadays. You find yourself back at that new café.

“I’ll take a honey lavender latte.” You tell the girl at the counter, her eyes immediately widening before she nods her head in approval.

“Great choice. A personal fav.” She grins before continuing, “And I make it the best.” 

A new voice joins in from behind, startling you. “Make that two.” A man says. You quickly turn around, eyes rising towards the same man you spilled coffee on. “Oh, it’s you.”

He brings a hand to his heart, “I’m a you? That means you remember me!” He smiles at you, shaking his dark hair from his eyes. 

You bite your lip, guilt sinking in from the last time. “Well, I thought you were gonna press charges for burning you last time. So, I guess I would remember.”

He looks taken aback, his eyes going round. “Press charges?” Then he laughs, “No, no. I wouldn’t do that, who wants to deal with cops, anyway?” 

“Just the two lattes?” The girl at the counter speaks up in a sing song voice and you immediately spin in your spot to apologize to her but the man beats you to it while he pulls out his wallet.

“Should we get a cookie too?” He asks you, his head tilting a little and you start shaking your head. “You sure?” He smiles.

You’re the one taken aback. This guy is too kind. You wonder if he’s like this with everyone.

“Seokjin, you are going to buy us out again.” The girl sighs as she smiles before glancing at you. “He ordered us all out just yesterday.”

“It was for the elderly! You know they get a little cranky if they don’t get something a little sweet to eat! Hasn’t it brought more customers? You could say thank you.” He gets playfully defensive, pout on his lips and the girl gives a shrug while nodding. “Well, it does make my boss happy. And if he’s happy,” She leans over the counter and whispers. “It’s a better day for everyone.” Then she giggles.

“See!” Seokjin crosses his arms like he’s still offended. “I’m just trying to help you all have a better day!”

You guess he is this nice to everyone.

And before you know it, he’s taking out his card and paying for the drinks. You realize it but it’s too late.

“You didn’t have to pay for that…” You mumble, hand paused on your own wallet. “But thank you.”

“Hopefully you’ll have an even better day too.” He smiles at you and it feels warm. 

You take a moment to get a good look at him and you realize just how handsome he is. You remember his chest and broad shoulders from last time but now you see just how full and plump his lips are but you also like his brown eyes. 

He smiles at you again.

You’re staring.

“See you around, I guess.” Seokjin puts his wallet back into his back pocket before walking off towards a table near a window. 

You know his name but he doesn’t know yours and that feels a little bit like a shame.

But there’s no time for harmless nice guys giving you warm smiles. You’re here to work. Or actually here to retrain yourself on how to do your work. 

Your job agreed to help you relearn everything so today, you’re going to sit at a table and get trained. And the girl you knew from college that works at your job will be in contact with you if you have any questions. Mijoo. Apparently you two were a bit acquainted before you started working from home. 

When you find a table near the bookshelves, you get to work. There’s updates on old programs you were familiar with but there’s new ones too. Plus, the market is a bit different. It’s a lot to learn but you think you’ll get the hang of it quickly. Just like you did back in the day when you were just starting out.

Two hours or more has passed and you’re buried in your work. But you see a man in your peripherals and a cookie wrapped in parchment paper suddenly on the table right next to your laptop.

You look up and Seokjin gives you that same warm smile before it turns sheepish. “I ended up ordering two for myself a little while ago but I’m too full. You can have it. Well…well, only if you want it, of course.”

You blink up at him before you look at the cookie. 

“It’s okay, if you don’t!”

Your eyes go to him again and you shake your head before you give him your own smile. “No, no!” You tell him quickly, “I-I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“Oh.” His lips form the perfect ‘o’ and he gives you a nod. “Nice. See ya.” And he’s smiling again before walking out of the café.

His entire aura is warm and you realize you appreciate people like him even more now. With how cold life has been.

~

After a long day of sitting at the café, you’re now sitting on the floor of your dusty attic. It’s gotten easy to figure out which boxes were stored here by your own hands and which boxes are the ones that Jungkook packed up to avoid you seeing your life. It’s mostly obvious because Jungkook’s packing is much more organized than yours. 

You wonder if this box of framed photos in front of you is so neat because he looked at each one slowly, taking his time as he looked at the memories he knew you wouldn’t remember. 

You wonder if he took his time because he misses Haru.

And because he missed you.

You manage to conceal a bitter scoff as you lift your foot and push it flat against the box, forcing it back a few inches. Your concern isn’t Jungkook right now. Stop thinking about him. Stop looking at your photos with him. Stop looking at the life you lived with him.

Right now those are your priority.

A strained sigh leaves your mouth as you eye the boxes you’ve dragged to the other side of the attic. You’ve been trying to organize everything in here so you know what’s what. Eyes slide to the left where all your household memories are. Then they slowly drag across the attic, passing by an old, dusty desk to the right side where your personal mystery boxes are.

It’s taken a few days to really separate everything. Because this attic has more than just some boxes of memories and boxes of mysteries. It also has a few too many creepy crawlers hanging in the corners. And things you’re sure 33 year old you wanted to sell and get rid of. 

Buzz.

Your eyes suddenly shoot down to your phone when it lights up and vibrates the attic floor, already seeing that it’s another message from Misuk in the group chat with her and Subin. 

Last you checked they were gushing over a new song from an artist they like who you barely even know so you don’t rush to really look. Your eyes stay on the screen until the light dims and it goes black.

You’d be lying if you said you wish you didn’t have help. Someone to guide you to some answers.

Another strained sigh before a half assed chuckle barely rumbles in your chest.

Well, ‘someone’ could guide you to some answers. And that someone is 33 year old you but unfortunately you don’t understand majority of what you’ve found. As if only parts of the puzzle are in these boxes, just edges and corner pieces and you’re missing all the pieces that fill everything in. 

Your eyes still linger on the black screen as they begin to lose focus as your mind whirls into your endless list of questions again. The boxes of mysteries are only three boxes. One of them having nothing to do with your son, you think. But the other two have caused some concern.

Something tells you that 33 year old you is really not convinced that your son is dead.

It’s clear you were investigating on your own. But your notes barely make sense. And it is more than fucking frustrating. 

You’re about to close your eyes and groan but your phone suddenly lights up again as you feel a slight vibration next to your foot. It’s another text but it doesn’t look like its apart of the group chat.

You squint at the screen but it’s too far to really read anything so you finally give in and reach for the device and bring it closer to your face. And then you feel the sudden thump in your lower belly where your heart just landed.

Jungkook 9:19pm

How are you doing?

A razor sharp sting tightens every muscle in your body, the sudden tension making your breaths stop.

More than a month and a half since you’ve last seen and spoken to him and he’s finally said something to you. 

Finally because as much as you hate him, his existence makes you breathe. And you have to breathe to live. 

Buzz.

Your hand vibrates along with your phone and you suddenly clench your fingers around it. 

Jungkook 9:19pm

I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. 

Your heart suddenly leaps up into your throat, choking you a bit as you try to breathe. Is that a confession? It already bothers you that he barely tried to explain himself and now he’s been silent all this time. And now he’s apologizing? He’s guilty, isn’t—

Buzz.

Jungkook 9:20pm

I just wish you would talk to me y/n…

That concealed scoff from earlier has finally broken free, pushing past your lips in something like disgust. Talk to him? Talk to him? You feel an uncomfortable anger start poking your skin from the inside and you squeeze your phone harder in you hand. The fucking audacity. 

There’s a brief moment when you consider chucking your phone across the attic but fortunately you only slam it to the floor. Frustration still hot on your skin, you quickly reach for a worn out decorative pillow and hurl it in front of you with a lot of strength, knocking against the old desk as it wobbles for a moment.

You release a short puff of air, head lowering and eyes closing as you try to calm yourself. You’ll admit, it did feel kind of good to release some en—

Thump.

Your eyes snap open as you tilt your head up towards the desk where the sudden sound just came. Did something fall inside? But what? You had checked the desk before. The top drawer only had a few pens and some sticky notes while the bottom drawer was empty minus some loose sheets of printer paper. And the left side of the desk is just two empty book shelves. It is basically empty.

It was probably nothing. 

You’re about to move on, mind already wanting to go back to Jungkook when the sudden thump just can’t make sense. Something with some weight definitely fell in or on the desk, right? But you’re sure there’s nothing from when you checked the other week. 

Doesn’t hurt to look again, you decide. Maybe this is your intuition talking to you.

You finally lift yourself from the attic floor, giving one last look at the boxes that are filled with your life with Jungkook and Haru before heading towards the middle where the desk is. It’s got an impressive layer of dust that you haven’t found any real reason to clean since the desk isn’t something you’d visit often. 

Giving in, you reach for the top drawer and open it, just like you had the other week, but just like last time, the drawer only has three pens, some used sticky notes with doodles and numbers lying around and one black marker. 

You knew there was nothing. Shutting the drawer, you quickly open the bottom drawer. It’s a deeper space, like you could fit a small filing cabinet. But instead, there’s only a few loose sheets of blank printer paper. 

Not convinced, you shove your hand inside the drawer, feeling around for anything strange and even trying to reach behind but you’re met with nothing. Okay. You step away from the desk for a moment, eyeing it suspiciously because you’re certain something with more weight than any of those things fell. And fell here. 

There’s nothing else here besides this raggedy pillow. You glance down at it, the pathetic thing on the floor before you groan, kicking it away from you. 

So what? You just imagine all kinds of things now? Is that the new normal? 

Suddenly not minding the thick layer of dust, you lean forward in defeat, hands gripping the edge of the desk as you support some of your weight onto it but the desk wobbles forward on its probably broken, unsteady legs. And you know you don’t imagine it when something with some weight definitely shifts inside. 

“Uh, what was that…?” You mumble to yourself, eyebrows coming together slowly as you take another look at the desk. Your eyes immediately fall to the left side where the two empty shelves are. It definitely came from this side.

You quickly squat down, eyes trained on the shelves, inspecting every single inch of the empty and terribly dusty space. “Don’t tell me…” You whisper, expression highly focused as you look at the back panel of the shelves. The shelving space is not nearly as deep as of the width of the desk. 

You blink at it, breaths now falling from your lips faster as your fingers quickly go to touch the backing panel and when it wiggles freely with enough pressure, you know you’ve found something. Feeling impatient, you jostle the thin wood around until you can figure out how to remove it.

And when it starts poking through the side of the shelf, your heart starts racing while you quickly slide the panel through the wooden desk. You feel it. Maybe it’s instinct because somewhere in your brain you know this is familiar and means something. The panel drops to the floor once its slid out but before it even touches, your hands are already digging inside.

“Okay, okay, okay.” You repeat with shaky breaths. Fingers already grasping what’s here and you feel yourself growing more and more anxious. A shoe box. An open shoe box that’s close to overflowing. You pull it out while you sit down onto the floor, the box settling right in front of you.

“Okay,” You sigh, reaching for the first item on top. It’s a small note book, the kind you’d use to make a check list of sorts. You take a deep breath before flipping it open and a few loose contents fall out. And then you feel the breath of a ghost at the base of your neck.

You pick up a folded sheet of paper along with a bent photo of Nabi. You feel the cold breath travel down your spine as you unfold the paper and read what’s written in someone else’s handwriting. 

Yun Nabi

118, Seolleungro-150, Yongsan-gu, Seoul 

 010-6203-3087

 010 3476 9876àweekends

010 9874 3456 new ##

You stare down at the worn paper, confusion clouding your mind. You want to rip her photo to shreds.

You quickly glance to the bent photo in your other hand and before you tell your hand what to do, it’s already crumbling it. Your dark gaze set on the now wrinkled woman who managed to gain Jungkook’s attention. 

Maybe it’s not her fault if she’s great.

Maybe it’s your fault. 

Your eyes stay trained on the crumbled photo but they’ve lost focus once again. Soon the balled up picture and the folded note fall to your lap as Numbness hugs you over your shoulders and as Insecurity sits next to you and whispers into your ear. 

Why did Jungkook cheat on you? 

You manage to blink but your throat feels dry.

Why did he do that to you? Why would anyone…?

You want to laugh at yourself. Because you know if this happened to anyone else you would know it wasn’t their fault. The person who cheated…it’s about them and no one else. And you want to tell yourself this, remind yourself, confirm that this isn’t your fault. 

But why do you sit here, letting Numbness hug you tighter? And why do you sit here and wonder?

You wonder…you wonder where you went wrong that you were no longer enough for him.

And it doesn’t feel fair that you’re wondering that.

You take the photograph and crumple it even more before throwing it to the side and decide to open the notebook. And you see more puzzle pieces. 

Routine

7 he wakes up….sometimes 8 

Jungkook takes him to work sometimes for fun 

Someone at work?? Who? Another list

Daycare usually Mondays & Thursdays for sure

Busiest days at work

You flip the page

Thursday the 14th, at the bus station, 

The 18th when I was going home

There was a car parked outside on the street for 3 days

The 5th

The 8th

The 12th I ran into someone who knew me but I didn’t know them

A man with buzzed hair

Something hot bubbles inside your chest and it feels like it’s burning you. Anxiety has a touch of fire. You flip to the next page.

It just scribbles like you were frustrated.

Just like you are now. 

You decide to close to the notebook. Discomfort swallowing you like a dry pill. 

But you don’t stop looking through the box. Pictures of people you don’t know. More lists of times and dates. But no context. More frustration building. 

Your head snaps up suddenly when you recall something falling so you quickly reach inside the secretive hole in the desk and feel around. Your fingers grasp at nothing until something cold is felt. You can tell what it is immediately as you wrap your fingers around the device. A phone. 

You take the cold, shiny device in your clammy hands and rush to turn it on but it’s got a dead battery. You turn the phone upside down to check what kind of charger it takes and remember that downstairs in the kitchen there’s a drawer of random charging cables. 

You need to get this thing turned on. Now. 

“Are you okay?” You immediately straighten your back, phone dropping to the attic floor,  the sudden voice a shock since you live alone. You quickly look around you, eyes darting from place to place but of course, there’s no one here. You feel sick. Especially because…didn’t that voice sound like—

“Are you okay?” Jungkook comes next to you, his eyes avoiding yours but he can’t hide the concern in his voice. You look at him, equally annoyed as he is. But still, you hear in his voice he doesn’t totally hate you. 

“It’s fine.” You mumble, fingers picking at the bandage wrapped around your palm. “It just got scraped.”

Jungkook chuckles humorlessly, “Misuk said Subin threw up in her mouth because of the blood.”

You shrug, “Okay, it was pretty bad.”

Jungkook stays silent and the same tension that’s been building since Sana’s wedding is here again. You, Jungkook, Misuk and Subin came to Busan for the weekend to celebrate your mom’s birthday but today, the day of the party, has been anything but fun. One thing after the other, but the cherry on top was around 20 minutes ago when you accidentally sliced your palm open while helping in the kitchen.

Now you’re outside trying to cool off but the last person you want to see has come to check on you.

“Does it hurt?” Jungkook stares up at the tree you two are standing in front of outside your house. He doesn’t bother to try and soften his tone. Sure, it’s concerned but it’s also irritated.

“I told you it’s fine.” You answer, sounding clipped. “Just go back inside.”

“You’re mad at me if I’m inside. You’re mad at me if I’m outside.” He stuffs his hands in his front jean pockets and continues gazing at the tall tree. “I really don’t understand why you’re so up—”

“—Oh? You don’t?” You turn your head to glare at him, “Really?”

You watch Jungkook’s profile, his jaw tightening for a moment before he sighs out.

“I don’t know.” He tells you before turning to face you as well. Your eyes are narrowed but he sees plenty of disappointment in them. “Maybe I do. But I also seriously don’t.”

You look down to the ground, a moment of consideration because you kind of understand him. But then you recall last night and realize that no, he definitely should understand why you’re mad.

Things have changed between you two. Ever since Sana’s wedding, there’s been something different and enticing. Moments that feel way too charged to be platonic. But neither of you have spoken up about it. Maybe he’s afraid you don’t feel it. Or maybe you’re now just realizing you’re afraid he is the one who doesn’t feel it.

Because how doesn’t he understand that having his last serious girlfriend from Busan in your parents living room while they flirt with one another relentlessly in front of you, is not going to make you mad?

“You don’t think flirting with your ex-girlfriend in front of me wasn’t going to make me mad, Jungkook?” You throw the words at him without much care for his reaction. It’s an honest question, in your book.

“Okay,” Jungkook tilts his head back before running his hands through his hair, “So this is about Hanja.” He groans a little before giving in and taking a step closer to you. “I didn’t think it was a big deal…and you call her my ex girl-friend as if she doesn’t have a name. Hanja told me she had a lot of classes with you in High School!”

“And?” You deadpan. “Doesn’t make us friends.”

“Okay.” He nods but now he’s the one with disappointment in his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean you had to be rude.”

“You invited her to my mom’s birthday party!” You throw back, “And have barely even…” It sucks that your voice gets a little softer because you just want to make a point. “You’ve barely even  looked at me since she’s been here.” 

Jungkook’s lips part and he looks conflicted as he registers your words but you don’t wait for him to get it before you continue.

“Sure,” You manage a stubborn shrug, “Maybe you’re not flirting with her but you don’t stop her when she does with you.” 

Jungkook’s brows furrow, “She hasn’t flirted with me, y/n.” He tries to assure you, his tone finally not irritated but instead the same soft as yours. “We just have history, you know? But that was what? 5 years ago? 6? 7? I don’t even know. We ended on good terms so I thought it was harmless. She’s in town too and had nothing to do…I didn’t think it was a big deal.” 

“I just…” You finally meet his eye for the first time more willingly, “I don’t know.” 

He finally relaxes his features and a pleasantly pleased smile starts tugging at the corner of his lips, “You’re…jealous.” He confirms softly.

You raise a brow at him, feeling annoyed. “So then you do understand why I’m mad.” 

“Yeah.” He agrees but you see the uncertainty in his eyes. “But I wasn’t sure. Maybe hoping but I couldn’t be sure, you know?” 

“Did you want me to be jealous?” You ask, unsure how that makes you feel but you see genuine and quiet panic all over his face while he shakes his head.

“No, no.” He tells you with big eyes. “But when I realized you were mad at me, I thought it could be because you were jealous. And,” He pauses, swallowing what you think is nerves. “That’s why I became hopeful, I guess.” 

“And why is that?” A cool breeze suddenly picks up and it feels nice against your cheeks.

“Because it might mean…” His words grow quieter, seeking your understanding of where he was going. “But without being direct…well, I can’t really be sure, you know?”

“Then why can’t we be direct?” You gesture between your bodies, “I like you, Jungkook.” It doesn’t take a lot of effort to say it, to admit it, but it does take a lot of effort to not tear your eyes away from him in embarrassment. But your gaze remains on his. 

“And there’s no way I’m imagining—”

“—You aren’t!” Jungkook panics, his fingers flying to your wrists, holding on to them as he persuades your eyes to remain on his again. “You aren’t imagining it. I know it, too.” He tells you but he looks and sounds conflicted.

“For months, Jungkook.” You say quietly, “I’ve been wondering for months if you’re going to make a real move on me.” 

He can’t help but smile at you nervously, his clammy fingers still pressing into your wrists. “I just…” Jungkook’s smile begins dropping as he explains himself, “…I’m so afraid of talking about this because it might change our friendship and you’re just,” He pauses, eyes searching yours because he needs to see if you understand. “You’re too important, y/n.” 

“You’d rather never tell me how you feel because it might change our friendship?” You ask him, ignoring the fire burning along the edges of your skin. “You would rather spend forever just wondering if I feel the same as you? Just like I’ve been wondering if you feel the same as me? Too afraid to talk about it because it…might change our friendship?”

Jungkook’s fingers finally disconnect from your skin and into his hair, his nerves only multiplying but he finds the courage to say, “If you didn’t feel the same, things would change.”

“If I didn’t feel the same then things wouldn’t have changed in the first place. Jungkook, things have already changed. And I don’t like wondering. We’re already past platonic so I’ll tell you—”

Suddenly, your head starts pounding.

A new memory unlocked. 

And it only makes you sit on your attic floor and cry.

Great timing.

~

Your fingers feel frozen, maybe even numb as you dig through another random kitchen drawer to find the correct charger for the phone you’ve found. So far you haven’t been lucky. Then again, nothing feels lucky. You’ve been quiet to yourself all day after last night. Not even a thought out loud. 

Your eyes grow watery again but you immediately slam your lids shut, squeezing tightly because you refuse to shed anymore tears. You might have to buy a new charger but you really aren’t in the mood to leave the house. You aren’t in the mood for anything except maybe hurling more old, worn out, decorative pillows at dusty furniture. But now you feel afraid for what you might find. The more mysteries you unlock, you’re afraid to unlock a memory along with it. 

It's evening now, the kitchen clock says 6:13pm. The day has gone by. You watched the sun rise this morning and now you’re witnessing it set. You have yet to find it in you to sleep today. Maybe you’re afraid you’ll slip into your bed that you once shared with Jungkook and suddenly you’ll remember all the times you’ve slept in it with him. You can’t afford any more of that. Just yesterday you were begging 33 year old you to share some of the life you’ve missed and now that she is sharing some of the years…you’re realizing you aren’t ready. 

You take a deep breath, shutting a drawer shut when you decide to order a new charging cable for the phone. Your eyes slide to the device that rests peacefully on the counter while your heart beats uncomfortably in your throat. You stare at it, wondering what contents lie inside but a part of you feels fearful of what you might find. 

Taking another breath, you wrap your arms around yourself, hugging yourself for a moment before you decide to take care of this. Sitting yourself at the kitchen island, opening your laptop, you search the phone and get the cable ordered for delivery tomorrow. This is better than driving yourself nuts trying to find it.

You close your eyes, resting your head down to the counter, wishing you could turn your day around.

Ding Dong.

Your eyes snap open. 

And something unsettling starts whirling in your belly. As if you can sense who is at your door.

Knock Knock Knock.

You groan quietly to yourself because you just know. You know exactly who it is for some insane reason. You just feel it. You stand from the stool and walk yourself to your front door. Swinging it open without even peeping through the hole to confirm your suspicions. 

Jungkook’s doesn’t look too good. For as handsome as he is, he looks rough. His skin is dry, his lips are pale and the bags under his eyes give away how much sleep he isn’t getting. You don’t care though. Not about him. Your fingers grip around the door frame tighter, your skin burning at the sight. 

“I just wanted to see how you were.” He tells you, voice so quiet you had to read his lips.  You want to scoff bitterly in his face, shut him out and make him feel thrown away. 

But your foot pushes the front door further open as you turn around to go into the living room. You’ve invited him in. Though, ‘invited’ feels like a strong word. 

You can hear the door creak open even furth from behind you, shoes are shuffling onto the floor and the door clicks shut. You hold your breath as you walk to the sofa, sitting yourself down at the very end of it as your eyes glue themselves to the black screen of the TV. 

Jungkook follows your lead and sits at the other end of the couch. In your peripherals, he looks like a big, black scribble of a thousand swirling lines and you don’t have it in you to focus your eyes on him and let him appear as Jungkook. As a person. So, you keep your eyes on the TV.

Nothing is said between you both for a long while, all your senses are heightened though as you anticipate his next words to you. The hairs on your arms rise when the click of the AC goes off as it turns on. You wonder if his next words have to do with apologizing about cheating on you. Apologize to you that you just couldn’t be enough. Apologize to you for losing your son. 

Your head slightly tilts in the direction of the kitchen when you notice the soft drip drops of water from the faucet. The distant bark from a small dog. Jungkook’s fingernails scratching his forearm. Every noise is going off in your ears, haunting you, taunting you and driving you insane. 

You only want to hear his voice. 

“Why are you here?” You finally break the noisy silence. 

“To see you.” He says, voice quiet and afraid. “You’re doing better than me, huh?”

Your palms are flat against the couch cushion before you slowly curl your fingers, grabbing nothing of the material at his words. “Do you really think you get to say that to me?”

“This isn’t fair for either of us, y/n.” Jungkook has the audacity to keep speaking. “You just don’t understand.”

You twist your head to eye him, your jaw tight as you watch him sit on the sofa, eyes cowering away from yours. “You’ll stop talking now.” You tell him as your voice becomes quiet and afraid as well. You’re livid but you speak like you’re hurt. 

“Then…” Jungkook pauses, his eyes going all around the living room now before he sighs. “Then I’ll just listen.”

You push your head back in disbelief, “I didn’t ask you to come here so I can talk to you. In fact, I didn’t ask you to come here at all.”

He finally turns his head toward you, his eyes are red and watery and you hate that you hate seeing him on the verge of tears. You watch his throat as you pay attention to the hard way he swallows. “I know. But I had to see you.” 

Suddenly, your head starts pounding, a harsh banging from inside your forehead. You quickly let your head fall into your hands when those words keep repeating inside your mind. I know. But I had to see you. I know. But I had to see you. I know. But I had to see you. 

You groan into your hands. The pain erupting on all sides of your head. The words repeating over and over, making your ears feel like they’re bleeding. I know. But I had to see you.

“y/n?” You hear Jungkook’s quiet and afraid voice. 

I know. But I had to see you. 

“I thought you didn’t want to see me…” Jungkook’s eyes are blood shot. You know he’s been drinking again.

“I know.” You mutter, “But I had to see you.” 

“Oh.” He stumbles backward, his hand widening his front door to his new, shitty apartment. You feel anger bubbling, because you know he’s drunk. You’re doing everything in your power to keep it together and he’s wasting his time drinking.

“You’ve shut out Jimin.” You tell him, cutting to the chase. “So you don’t know anything, do you?”

“W-What’s there to know? I don’t need them anymore. Also, I was fucking fired.”

You snap your eyes to his as he still stands at his open doorway. “You’re pissing me off, Jungkook.”

“I can do this on my—”

“—They’re closing the case.” You say. “They’re saying he’s…that he’s…” You pause, throat growing drier. “You know.”

“I don’t know.” Jungkook drunkenly shrugs, slamming the door shut, making you flinch. “They’re all wrong, anyway.”

You feel your shoulders growing tenser, your lips in a hard, thin line before they die into a frown. “They’re saying we should hold a funeral.”

Jungkook’s body goes still, his hanging arms at his sides suddenly rise to his face when he rubs his temples. “Excuse me?”

“They want to—”

“Just stop!” He suddenly cries out, voice shrill. You see his eyes growing redder and redder as tears fill them up. “None of you know what you-you’re talking about. Just shut up, all of you!” 

You flinch.

Jungkook’s fingers go into his hair when he starts pulling on the strands. “This just isn’t right.” He keeps muttering to himself, “I got this. I got this. I got this.” He starts pacing back and forth in front of his coffee table. “Just stop. Stop talking.”

You stand in silence.

“I said stop talking!” 

You watch him unravel.

“Jung—”

Glass breaks across the coffee table. A shattered soju bottle that he’s thrown.

You flinch again. 

You take a step back.

Jungkook falls to the floor, crying and yelling at no one. The loss of your son is much worse than you could have imagined. But you knew telling Jungkook about the funeral was going to cause something more serious to unravel. But you didn’t imagine this.

“y/n?” Jungkook voice sounds sober now. “y/n?”

Your head is about to split into sections, the pain so overwhelming.

You lift your face from your hands, your cheeks overflowing with tears. Why did you have to remember that? 

“Hey,” Jungkook stands from the sofa and comes closer to you. His hand hesitantly landing on your shoulder but just like in your memory, you flinch. He immediately frowns. “y/n…” He brings his hand back to his body. “Talk to me, I’ll just listen.”

“G-go.” You keep your head low as your eyes stay glued to your lap. “Please just go.” 

His hands freeze at his sides, using all of his self-control. Even you can feel how tense his body is, just from the heat that radiates off of it. You’re being serious. He needs to go before you spiral into one of your throbbing headaches that give you a panic attack. The kind you can manage on your own—and prefer to. 

“Please, Jungkook…” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I’m not feeling well now so pl—”

“—Okay.” His fingers curl into hard fists. “Call me if you need anything. Please.” He stands here for another moment, like his feet have become glued to the floor and he’s unable to move. But after a tentative sigh, they finally move. And your ears bleed again at each sound that can be heard. The click of the AC turning off, the small dog whining in your neighbor’s yard, each drip of water dropping from the faucet and finally the whoosh of the front door opening and closing shut. And you finally let go a long, long breath. 

Your head hurts and your heart hurts, the memory fresh in your mind. You never imagined to see Jungkook…like that. You barely recognized him. Does he have a drinking problem? Or did? You need to erase these images in your head, or at least scatter something pretty over them. And that’s when you get an idea that you know is pure torture.

~

One of the boxes from the attic is sat on your living floor, with your bottom plopped right next to it. It’s a box you organized yourself, you can tell. Just a box of intimate memories with your ex-husband. You pull out a letter you’ve read at least six times now…might as well make it seven.

The envelope is pink with little hearts drawn all over it and though it’s only eight years old, it looks like it’s at least 20. The envelope itself is wrinkly with random water stains and the page inside is soft and used like you’ve read this letter a thousand times. Might as well make it a thousand and one. 

You slip the paper out of the envelope, unfolding it carefully, the crinkling paper opening up with Jungkook’s handwriting written all over.

April 10 2015

Dear y/n,

Hi it’s me, your boooooyfriend. >.< sorry I’m still getting used to it. You’re probably wondering why I’m writing a letter when I could just call or text you but you seemed to think it was cute in that movie we watched the other day and so Im writing you one too!! Also, I think my peers are thinking Im working really hard on a case. I wish I was but they won’t give me anything good. I know it hasn’t even been a year since I finally landed here in the Investigation sector as a detective but they still treat me like such a rookie…blaaaahhhhh you know this already. The captain seems to think I have potential though. But ya know what? The guys here said the only thing ive done right so far is getting you as a girlfriend hahaha 

Maybe they’re right I mean they’re definitely right 

I miss you so much

Im sitting here at my desk writing you and its just making me miss you a kabillzillion times more…….i seriously aaaaahhhh im going crazy because I miss you that much 

Im so lucky youre so amazing and my favorite person to exist and so pretty so pretty 

I know we’ve only been together for a short while but what if I told you I know exactly how I feel about yoooouuuuu huh what if 

Ask me about it when I see you tonight

Love,

Jungkook Your cheerios 

You read it. Then you read it again. This is the Jungkook you want to remember.

~~

It’s the next day and you’re opening the package you ordered just yesterday. Pulling out a small box, you get it open and unravel the charging cable to the phone you’ve found. Taking a look at the clock, you realize you’re a bit behind. You wanted to get to the café at noon for work but it’s already 15 after. You quickly plug the charger into the wall and get the phone charging. It’s dead so it’ll take a while to get turned on so you decide to leave it here while you head out. 

The café is a bit busy today, more people than you’re used to, but thankfully you see an open table. You set up your laptop and get to work. Taking a pause to message Mijoo about needing some guidance if she can meet any of these days. It would be nice to have some help in person. After working for a bit, you can’t help but lift your face from the screen and dart your eyes around the place. No sign of Seokjin today. Not that it means anything but he’s got the kind of warm, reassuring smile that you could use these days. 

And just like clockwork, the quiet bell dings when he walks through the café’s front door. He meets your eye immediately and gives you a small nod and the smile you were searching for. You nod back, eyes going back down to the laptop before you take another peak towards Seokjin. He’s walked up to the counter, talking with the young girl that’s always here. After a moment she hands him a box of what you assume are desserts. Maybe he’s giving them to the elderly again.

Then he walks out.

Oh, he isn’t staying today.

That’s okay, you don’t have time to chat with a harmless nice guy anyway. You have work to do. Something to truly get your mind off of everything else you’ve been going through. You think it’s a miracle you have it in you to try every day. In another universe, you might have already gone insane. 

~

After working a little while longer, you pack your things up and head to your car. It’s a sunny day, barely any clouds in the sky and it feels warm. Warm enough to make you forget this coldness that lingers all around you, all inside you. 

You start driving home when you remember you’re supposed to pick up a few groceries so you stop by the market first. It’s not too crowded and since you’re in an okay mood, you decide to put in your earphones and walk inside with a pep to your step. You needed zucchini…what else? Bread for sure was on your list. Peanut butter, eggs, oh yeah and some chips for when you get a craving. 

You start heading to the aisle with peanut butter when you recognize someone familiar. 

“Seokjin?” You mumble his name but he doesn’t hear you. His eyes fully focused on his jams. He stands here, deep in thought before he finally reaches for one.

“Hi.” You say a little louder and he jumps in his spot.

He turns to face you, ears turning red when he sees you. “Hi.” He stares at you dumbfounded for a moment, “I just realized I don’t know your name.” Then he chuckles.

You can’t help but crack a smile, “It’s y/n.”

“Ah, y/n. Yeah, that suits you.” He tells you confidently.

“Does it?”

“Do you usually shop here?” Seokjin gestures around the aisle, “I’ve never seen you before. Or are you…” He suddenly drops his smile and looks serious. “Following me?” Then he breaks into a huge smile before adding, “Dun, dun, duuuun.” 

You feel your stomach swirl with something before you shake your head, feeling embarrassed. “No, no! I live around here actually. This is just a coincidence.”

“A coincidence, huh? A lot of those lately.” He gives you another smile, this time more teasing. “We should just meet on purpose, you know.” 

You stand here, taken aback by his words. Is he implying meeting intentionally?

He seems to feel your shift. “Unless, unless…” His eyes avert yours now, his ears turning a deeper shade of red. “Sorry. Unless you don’t want to. Maybe you’re already seeing someone.”

You shake your head quickly, “No. I’m…I’m not.” You’re not but it feels wrong to say it. “But I wasn’t assuming…anything. Like, if you were implying a date or something.”

Seokjin pouts his lips before glancing up at the ceiling, “Why not? You would have been right.”

You blink at him, taken aback again. “Oh.”

“I happen to know a pretty great restaurant. Maybe we can not coincidentally meet there?”

He’s…asking you out. 

And it pains you because… “I can’t. Sorry,” You look down at your feet before glancing towards the jams. “Umm, I’m kind of going through something and—”

“—Oh.” Seokjin nods his head quickly. “No, no. I understand…you don’t have to explain. I’m kind of going through something too and I know that a good way to get through it is some nice company every now and then.” He gives you a warm smile, all the teasing gone. “I understand you though. So don’t worry but…” He suddenly pats his pants pockets before looking delighted. “In case you change your mind…I’m learning to…how do they kids say…shoot my shot.” He suddenly pulls out a receipt and a pen and scribbles something on it before handing it to you. 

His number.

“Just in case!” He cheeses harder. 

~

“I honestly don’t think it’s a big deal.” Misuk looks at you through the camera, her face looking brighter. “It’s just a date!”

“It is a big deal.” You whine again, “I’m in love with someone else and I have a whole lot of mess going on.” 

Subin nods her head sympathetically, “That’s true. But I think Misuk means it’s not a big deal because it could be…” She pauses, clearly thinking of the right words. It’s amusing to you to see they might agree on this. “A good thing? A simple thing! A little, you know, fun thing!” 

“Exactly!” Misuk drags out the word, “You don’t have to fall in love but you’re so focused on…you know, your memories…that you aren’t living life.”

“Uh,” You begin to defend yourself, “I’m—”

“—Yes, yes.” Misuk waves you off, “You are getting back into work! And that’s good! But you really should start living a normal life again.”

“And…” Subin looks off camera, her eyes looking softer. “It’s kind of the same. You are missing your memories, yes, and I’m so sorry…but 33 year old you was the same. Divorced. And I don’t think you were in any headspace to even think about wanting Jungkook back.” She finishes quietly.

“You wanted nothing to do with him.” Misuk tells you. “So just live a little…you know, just normal things. And who knows, it might help with your memories.”

You sit still for a moment. You’ll admit that you haven’t exactly been living normally. You mostly sit around all day, alone, surrounding yourself with things you don’t understand and torture yourself with memories of Jungkook. 

“Anyway, I’ll let you guys know if anything changes.” You chuckle after you focus your eyes on your friends again. “I just got home so I gotta put these groceries ...away" Your eye notices the list lying on the counter and you realize..."Damn, and I forgot the eggs. Anyway, I’ll call later!” You sing out.

“Okay! Bye!”

“Bye!” Subin sings back. And you end the call.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe you deserve a little break or something simple and fun. You bite your lip, thoughts still lingering but you decide to reach into your back pocket and pull out the receipt Seokjin gave you. You shake your head quickly but reach for your phone and input the number and press call. You need light in this darkness.

~~

You hate feeling defeated. 

Sitting on your sofa, blanket wrapped tightly around you as your hand clenches around this cold, empty and useless device. 

The phone has either never been used or was completely wiped. You thought you could torture yourself with more information but you’ve come out of this empty handed. There’s nothing on here. No call history, no text history, no pictures or videos…nothing. You squeeze the phone harder, frustration still building. When your actual phone buzzes. 

Your eyes shoot down to your now lit up phone and you drop the useless one to the couch cushion. It might be Subin gushing about this band she’s seeing this weekend. You’ll ignore—

Buzz.

You give in, reaching for your phone and your stomach does its usual uneasy swirling.

Jungkook 9:10pm

How are you feeling?

Jungkook 9:10pm

We don’t have to talk but at least tell me how youre doing…

Your eyes slam shut, the urge to cry too strong. Because you’re hurt. You’re hurting. You’re confused. You’re angry. And you’re sad. 

Why are you so weak? You should delete him, block him and throw your whole phone away. Because your phone knows him and you don’t. 

But you’re weak because you’re going to text back.

Except Jungkook beats you to it.

Jungkook 9:13pm

Did you get hit with a headache earlier? You okay? Have you seen your doctor lately?

All these questions are giving you different kind of headache. 

You 9:13pm

Its fine, Im fine

You lie

Jungkook 9:13pm

Liar

You 9:14pm

Jungkook

You 9:14pm

Do you have a drinking problem?

You press send. You see the bubbles pop up your screen, indicating that he’s typing but they disappear. Then they reappear. And disappear again.

You 9:16pm

Jungkook?

Jungkook 9:16pm

Who told you that? 

You feel your shoulders tense.

You 9:16pm

No one told me

You 9:17pm

I just remember when I went to your place…there was a lot of alcohol lying around and the place seemed rough

You 9:17pm

And idk I got thinking. Im not trying to accuse you or anything but…is what I saw…what I think it is?

You send. It’s not a total lie. Not what you’re referring to…but not a total lie. 

You stare at the screen but there’s no indication if he’s read your message or not. No typing. Nothing. Your eyes glance at the clock and it reads 9:19pm now. It’s okay. Only two minutes. But why does it feel like eternity? 

9:25pm and all you’ve done is sit, tightly wrapped in a blanket on your couch, and stare at your phone screen, touching the screen every time it times out. And still nothing. 

But then you see bubbles pop up.

Back straightening, you breathe in and out as your eyes remain on the screen. 

He’s been typing for three minutes.

You hold your breath now. 

Jungkook 9:28pm

And if it is?

You let out a short breath, disbelief crawling all over your skin that you throw the blanket off of you and stand from the couch. Your memories are reliable. 

You feel a sting pierce your eyes but you grit your teeth and hold any tears back. This is just too much for you to accept. You walk into the kitchen, frustration raging inside your body. You step up to the sink, hands gripping the edge of the counter before leaning forward, sighing out your anger. 

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Calming down, you immediately grab a bowl and sniffle to yourself. You’ll just do these dishes and forget all about this. 

You take another bowl, the hot water burning your fingers and palms as you absentmindedly scrub it clean. 

“Sometimes I think you wash clean dishes at this point.” Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. 

You laugh, “Not true.”

“The water is too hot, baby.” He nuzzles his face into your neck, suddenly pecking it softly. “You’re going to melt the skin off your bones.”

You realize he’s right, the water is really hot but you were just lost in thought. Your wedding is in two days. You get out of your thoughts while you set the bowl back into the sink and turn the faucet off. “I’m just—”

“I know.” Jungkook nuzzles his nose into your warm skin. “I can’t believe you’re the one who’s nervous between us.”

You sigh, small smile on your face. “I’m not nervous. But I am, a little.”

“I know.”

“Not in a bad way.”

“I know that too.”

“In a…marrying the love of my life, wow life is crazy kind of way.” You dry your hands before twisting in Jungkook’s embrace and you lean in to kiss him. “You probably know what I mean.”

He laughs against your lips, “I would be the one who knows exactly what you mean.”

Your lips twist into a sheepish smile, “I missed you today.”

“I missed you more.”

You roll your eyes, a teasing smile forming now. “Liar.”

He looks surprised for a second before rolling his own eyes, “I’m serious.”

“You’re only serious about work nowadays.” You tease him, and you are mostly teasing. It’s only lately he’s been zeroed in on a case. 

But Jungkook frowns, “It isn’t going well.” He admits to you. “I don’t know that we’ll get this one.”

“You will.” You lean forward more and nudge your nose against his, “You are the best there is.”

Jungkook chuckles, “Unfortunately I’m still in the ‘proving myself’ phase.” 

“Here too.” You continue to tease him, “Still deciding if this wedding is happ—”

“—Heeeeey, don’t joke like that.” Jungkook nudges his nose against yours now, “Tell me I’m the best here too.”

Your hands trail down his chest, eyes focusing on his. “You are.” 

“I wish Jimin would tell me that too.” He laughs a little but you know he’s serious. You take his hands in yours.

“You guys are new at being partners. Give it time, babe.”

“He hates me.” Jungkook sighs, “He thinks I mess everything up. And honestly, I can’t blow this one, y/n. The captain believes in me, which is good but my own partner doubts me.” 

You understand this is hard for Jungkook to accept. 

“Listen…” You give his hands a squeeze. “This is your first big one, right? Take it slow and I know you won’t get flustered like the last one.”

He immediately drops his hands from yours, “I can’t get like how I was with the last one.” Jungkook takes a step away from you, “This one is way too serious…the men I’m dealing with, y/n…you have no idea. I can’t mess this up.”

“Baby…” You feel bad for bringing up the last case he took with Jimin. He got too involved emotionally and when things didn’t end up well for the victim…”It’s okay. You have me to talk about this with and—”

“—But I don’t. I’m legally not allowed to. I got in trouble with sharing so much last time and…fuck,” Jungkook pauses. Closes his eyes slowly before taking a step forward and reaching for your hands again. “This is not what we need to be talking about right before our wedding. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You give his hands another squeeze. “We share our lives. With or without marriage, right?” 

 “I only wanna talk about us.” He breathes out softly, his lips inching closer to yours. “Let’s focus on you and me.” 

And your skin is burning again. It’s on fire. Too much fire, it hurts.

And that’s when you realize you’re still here at your kitchen sink, hot lava rushing to your skin, burning you as you hold the bowl you were cleaning.

You take a deep breath, taking a step back from the sink when you slam your eyes shut and let out a loud groan. You don’t even flinch when the sound of glass hits the floor because you’ve thrown the bowl. You don’t care.

Another memory. 

And it seems they’re all out of order. 

~~

Another bead of sweat dribbles down the side of Jungkook’s face, rolling right off his skin. And another miserable night. He gently throws his head back against the bathroom wall, his hairline drenched from hour two of hurling in the toilet. He’s drank too much again. Maybe some bad food poisoning in there. But even still, he knows he’s drank too much. 

He isn’t abusing the alcohol, really. Not lately. But he knows what it can do to him. He hates it. He hates himself. 

He hates this existence. 

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut before he groans to himself, knocking his head back a few more times. What is he doing? 

He misses you.

He wants to make things right.

How?

Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before trying to stand from the floor. He’s wobbly but he manages. He’s tired and he isn’t sleeping and he can’t because he knows you’re not. This is how he feels like he’s with you, the only real support he can give. 

He looks at himself in the mirror, his tired eyes staring back at him. He wants to tell that guy to fuck off, for some reason. He wants to scoff at him and offer him no sympathy. Jungkook wants to raise his hands to that man’s throat and squeeze. He wants to swear at him and curse him. His mouth twists and his eyes grow teary and he sighs. Because all he can do is cry for him. 

His head snaps up when the bathroom counter vibrates from his phone. Someone’s texted.

Unknown Number

Its me

Buzz.

Unknown Number

We need to talk

[fightmewiatch]

The emotion behind the way Edwin uses fuck is so heavy, because outside of the pilot episode and the scene on the stairs, he doesn't swear. He's a proper boy, repressed and focused and he bottles everything up.

In the Pilot, "The police don't know what to do with a fucking witch", he isn't swearing about the witch. He's angry, and he's upset, and he's frustrated. He's trying to focus on solving this case, saving the girl, doing the right thing, fixing things. Edwin spent seventy years in Hell, fighting for a way out (the detail in his journal, he didn't get out on the first try, he spent those 70s years trying over and over and over to find a way out - but that is a story for a whole other time), torture and pain and heartbreak, only to get out and fall into the school to find out no one cared that he died. "An act of God." The school wrote him off, everyone wrote it off and that was it, that was the end of it, no one cared that a 16 year old boy went to bed and was never seen or heard from again, poof, gone. He spent Charles' last moments with him to keep him company, and calm, and not scared, the two of them knowing what had happened only for the school to once again cover up the death of a 16 year old boy and pretend that whatever happened didn't. Edwin spent the next 30 years connecting with Charles, trying to help ghosts so they don't spend their entire afterlives in a state of absolute sorrow and heartbreak like has. We get such a bare taste of the ghosts they've saved and helped move on, who knows how much good they've truly done, how many they've saved from going to Hell on technicalities like Edwin had done. He's frustrated with Crystal, because he's spent 30 years working with Charles and only with Charles, he knows his friend, he knows how he behaves and how he works and how he acts, those two are connected on a level some people only dream about, and here she comes, she latches on, and she joins them to help but she's so hyper focused on herself and David (understandably so), that she isn't giving the same attention to the case that Edwin and Charles have always done, and he's angry, and he feels like it's going to happen to this girl, he is worried that her focus on David, is going to cause them to fail. Crystal has every right to be upset and scared and everything else that she is, but she doesn't consider, until that moment, that Edwin has a right to be upset about how it seems to be interfering with the case. The way that she reacts when he says "The police don't know what to do with a fucking witch," she realizes it then just how important this case is. Edwin was dragged to hell, the boys around him obliterated - leaving behind the idea that maybe he was, too - so to the school, maybe Edwin just disappeared, like Becky, like all the other little girls over the years in Port Townsend. Solving Becky's case is so damn important to Edwin that he is taking it personally. And while it's subtle, Charles reacts to him swearing, too, as though Edwin does not swear. And based on the rest of the season, it's clear he really doesn't. The way he swears in the pilot is from a place of complete and utter sorrow and anger.

In ep 7, it's different. He's spent the whole season struggling with who is he, trying to come to terms with a feeling he'd repressed for at least a century, and he's had to do it while dealing with the Cat King and Monty and watching Charles flirt with Crystal and struggle through his own rage, he's done it as quietly as he could, as if bringing it up out loud might ruin everything that he's worked so hard for. But now he's in Hell, again, now he's trying to get out, again. Edwin encountered the reason he was sent there in the first place, and found out what really happened. Edwin spent all those years thinking it was purely malice that got him sacrificed, only to find out it was just because Simon had a crush on him, and did an absurdly stupid thing thinking it was harmless. I think in that moment, Edwin realized how easy it is to misunderstand something - because clearly, Edwin had absolutely no idea that Simon liked him at all, until the moment he admitted it in Hell. And then Charles shows up. Charles came to save him, armed with a bomb, a Molotov cocktail, and Edwin's notebook with a map of hell on it. Charles came down, he listened to Edwin's directions, he ran behind him most of the time to make sure Edwin was going to get out. Charles was with him, saving him from one of the rooms, following him to the stairs and up. He stopped with him, even when they needed to keep going, Charles let him have a moment on the steps. Edwin is in shock, he cannot believe it. All these years, all these write offs, all these moments where Edwin genuinely didn't think he'd ever get out of Hell if he were to go back, believed that if they ever got caught by Death or anyone from the afterlife, he would be damned forever because who gives a shit about a technicality, who cares about the poor boy that was sacrificed and written off by the rest of the living. Edwin didn't know what else to do or say, the emotions he'd kept bottled up while he tried to figure them out were coming out one way or the other. "It's so fucking stupid, it's unbelievable." Edwin didn't think he deserved it, thought it was stupid to come down and save him, because who would do such a thing. Charles risked himself to come down to Hell to save Edwin. Edwin never thought he'd be worth it. And when Charles just shrugs it off a bit, reminds him that he was gonna do it, and he's so easy about it that Edwin just. Confesses. And corrects him, when Charles misunderstands for a second. Charles didn't think twice about "Great. Love you too. Can we go?" And he really didn't even hesitate to reassure Edwin when Edwin clarified what he meant, that they had forever to figure things out.

[megxplryxb]

For you, I would ruin myself

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, mentions of Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to cheating but not really, Mutual pining, Idiots in love, Love confessions, Angst, Heartbreak

Author's notes: Hi lovely people, I'm really sorry I haven't been around lately. Well, who am I kidding, I've been pretty MIA since March. The writers block was kicking my ass and the motivation just wasn't there but I've had so many ideas lately and this one was unfinished in my drafts for way too long so finally got around to completing it over the past few days. I'm not in love with the ending, but I do like that it's not the usual happy ending I always do. Please be kind, I'm a little rusty. x

Another Friday evening, another failed date, Steve thought to himself as he climbed into his BMW with a deflated sigh, leaning back against the headrest. He’d been on three dates in the past month and it was starting to feel a little mundane and pointless. Three different candidates, three different bouquets of flowers, three different venues but none of them had developed into anything further. He was completely used to the routine by now, picking them up from their house, paying for the meal or for the movie, making some awkward conversation before sharing a kiss that made him feel absolutely nothing inside. He’d tell the girl he was sorry, that he didn't see it going anywhere between them before offering her a ride home or pay for a cab and head back to his house alone.

It's not that the girls weren't pretty, or that their personalities were dull or that they’d done anything wrong necessarily. The issue was Steve and his lack of real interest in getting to know any of them romantically, 'cause there was someone else consuming his thoughts and he couldn't get her out of his fucking mind. He pressed his forehead to the steering wheel, cursing at himself for being so off of his game, for being so distracted by someone he knew he couldn't have. Steve used to be a pro at dating, he could get any girl he wanted, whenever he wanted just by clicking his damn fingers. But he wasn't that guy anymore and this time he couldn't get the girl either. The girl he really fucking wanted. Frustrated, he pulled out of the parking lot, turning up the radio before leaving Enzo's and another unsuccessful date in the rear view mirror.

He picked up a case of beer from the liquor store and contemplated going home to drown his sorrows alone. He thought about going to Robin's too but knew she'd chew him out for screwing up yet another date that she had to convince him to go on in the first place. He wasn't even sure his best friend would want to see him after their stupid argument in Family Video earlier, so he decided against the idea and kept on driving.

"Steve, you have to move on from this fixation you have with her. You and her are never gonna happen, it can't happen, you know that right?"

"Yeah I know Robin, alright? Jesus Christ, can you please stop talking about it?”

"Look, I'm sorry ok? I know I'm being a total pain in the ass but I'm just worried about you. I know how you get when you fall for someone and I don't want to see you get hurt or mess up a really good friendship because of–"

"I get it Robin, fuck, I'm trying to get over it, over her, I really am. I've distanced myself as much as I can without making it totally obvious that something’s up. What else do you want me to do, huh?"

"I don't know, Steve! I'm just trying to help. I'm trying to be your friend and make you see that this doesn't have a happy ending for you.”

“You don’t think I know how this ends for me? How it always ends? I’m well aware of how this goes Robin, so please just…don’t, ok?”

Steve felt horrible for fighting with Robin. He felt like shit for taking his frustrations out on her but she just wouldn't stop talking about the situation and the consequences he would face if he ever acted on his feelings. He already felt bad enough about it, he didn’t need her reminding him every five god damn minutes that he couldn’t have the thing he wanted the most. Of course, he'd apologise to her tomorrow with ice cream and chocolate along with the promise of being her personal chauffeur for the next month straight because deep down he knew she was right.

After a while of driving around, Steve found himself at the entrance of Forrest Hills trailer park. His fingers dancing on the steering wheel as he bit his lip, thinking about whether or not he should just keep going. Eddie had been on his ass lately about never seeing him, wondering if he'd done or said something to piss Steve off, trying to arrange a boys night so they could catch up but Steve kept putting him off until the metal head eventually quit asking. Christ, Munson wouldn’t want to hang out with him ever again if he knew the reason why Steve was avoiding him in the first place. But Robin was right, he had to get over it and cutting himself off from everyone wasn’t going to help anything.

"Fuck it." Steve muttered, as he drove through the gates and made his way into the trailer park, hoping he wouldn’t regret his decision later on, praying it wasn’t a total mistake coming here.

The gravel crunched under his tyres as the car came to a halt outside of Eddie's trailer just as the sun had finally set on the little town of Hawkins, Indiana. Switching off his ignition, he grabbed the case of beer before stepping out of the car, walking around to the back of the trailer but quickly noticing that neither Waynes car or Eddie’s van were anywhere to be found. He could however, see a flicker of light escaping through the curtains and hear the chorus of Shout by Tears for Fears coming from inside, causing his heart to beat a little faster, skin feeling a little hotter, cause he knew who was inside and he needed to get out of there immediately.

"Shit." Steve whispered, hurrying back to his car, placing the box of beer onto the passenger seat hoping his presence hadn't been noticed by the one person he had been trying so desperately hard to stay away from all this time. But the creak of the trailer door opening behind him told him he was already too late as he turned around to see you standing there, arms folded, head tilted, smiling at him.

"Hey stranger, long time no see."

Steve swallowed hard, instantly feeling more butterflies in his stomach just from seeing you for the first time in weeks than he had from any of his dates in the past month. He didn’t know how it was possible but he was certain you’d gotten even prettier in his absence. Your usual flowy hair clipped back into a messy bun, sun kissed legs on show in your tiny denim shorts, finished off by an oversized Metallica T-shirt that most definitely belonged to your boyfriend...To Eddie, one of Steve's best friend’s. The one and only reason he could never tell you how he really felt.

“Yeah, I guess it’s been a while, huh?” He chuckled nervously as you made your way down the steps, towards his car.

“A while? It’s been forever. I think I was even starting to miss you.” You tease, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into the warmest of hugs. His whole body tenses with the feeling of you so close to him and he swore his heart stopped for a moment as he took in your scent. You were ice cream on hot summer days, cocoa on cold winter nights and everything he knew he could ever want or need.

It wasn’t unlike you to hug him, you’d always been affectionate and touchy but it felt different this time, like you needed it as much as he did. So he finally relaxed his body, allowing his arms to find their way around your waist, chin resting on your head, keeping you close for what felt like several minutes.

“Yeah, I missed you too.” So much, he thinks to himself as you eventually break apart.

“So, beer huh? I take it you were looking for Eddie?” You ask, noticing the box in Steve’s BMW.

“Uh, yeah…he’s been asking me to come hang out for a couple of weeks but I’ve just been super busy with work and stuff. Finally had some free time, so I thought I’d take him up on the offer before he completely disowned me.” Steve jokes as you let out a small laugh.

“Poor guys been like a lost puppy without you. Honestly, its getting embarrassing. I’m clearly not enough for him.” You sigh sarcastically as Steve shakes his head.

“I highly doubt that honey.” He replies truthfully, voice in the back of his mind screaming that you’d be enough for him. That you’ve always been enough for him.

You look away from him, placing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, hoping he hasn't caught the slight tint of pink creeping onto your cheeks with his tiny compliment.

“Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you but he’s playing with the band at the Hideout tonight.” You shrug, tugging on your bottom lip.

“That’s cool, I totally should have checked first anyway. I’ll catch him another time.” Steve replies, playing with his car keys.

“Y’know, Eddie’s not the only one who likes beer or do you just not want to hang out with me?” You smile, raising a brow and god he knows he’s in trouble. He knows he should shake his head, make up some excuse and run for the hills but he can’t. Not when you’re looking at him like that, like you want him to stay and fuck he really wants to.

“Of course I want to hang out with you, I just don’t want to be imposing.” He explains as you scoff.

“Imposing? Please, I could really do with a break, I’ve been cleaning this place all day for Wayne before he gets back into town tomorrow. Eddie’s a total pig, I swear he’s lucky he’s cute.” You laugh but Steve doesn’t really laugh with you. He hates that you think Eddie is cute, hates the way you say his name. Hates that he has no right to feel so jealous but he can’t help it. Because it was Steve’s own fucking fault for not telling you how he felt months ago, when he had a real chance to make you his before Eddie went and beat him to it.

“So, are you coming in or?” You ask, eyes wide as you start walking back towards the trailer.

This was Steve’s chance to run, to get into his car and go home like he’d originally planned to do. Why hadn’t he just done that in the first place? Why did he think coming to Eddie’s was such a good idea and how the fuck had he ended up alone with you? Robin would fucking kill him if she could see him now. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be here. You should have been working in the Hideout like you did every Friday night since you left Family Video and him behind all those months ago.

“Steve?” You call again when you don’t hear his footsteps following you.

“Huh? Oh, yeah sorry, I’ll just grab the beers.” He finally answers, smiling at you as you nod happily, heading back inside.

Steve curses at himself, knowing he couldn’t leave now, it’d be too obvious. You were his friend just as much as Eddie, the only problem was, he didn’t want Eddie like he wanted you.

When he finally joined you inside, you were rummaging through a drawer to find a bottle opener that Wayne kept in there for safe keeping. Steve tries to look anywhere but at you as his body stood stiff in the doorway while you made your way towards the couch, plonking your tired body down. He could tell you’d been cleaning all day, the trailer unrecognisable from the usual mess Eddie had it in. Fresh hoover lines apparent on the spotless carpet, laundry washed and folded, pillows puffed, trash emptied and the countertops cleared and wiped down. There was even a scent of lavender in the air, compared to the usual smell of motor oil and cigarettes.

“You can sit down you know?” You smirk as Steve smiles, shaking his head.

"Sorry, I was just momentarily distracted by the fact that I could actually see the floor in here for once.” He jokes, placing the alcohol on the side table as you giggle, feeling him slump down beside you, letting out a heavy breath.

“Hi.” Steve smiles, turning his head towards you, resting his eyes on your porcelain face. It’s unfair how good you look right now, so effortlessly beautiful with your hair up and no make up on. Christ, you could be on the cover of any magazine, he thinks to himself.

“Hi.” You smile back, nudging your knee with his playfully and Steve’s thankful you can’t hear how fast his heart is beating just from the slightest bit of contact.

“Beer?” He offers, ripping open the box to grab two bottles.

“Thought you’d never ask, Harrington.” You tease, taking one from his hand, passing him the bottle opener.

“Cheers.” He grins nervously, clinking his drink with yours before he takes a large swig.

Forty minutes pass and you're both already on your second drink, catching up and talking as if no time at all had gone by. It had always been that way between you both, effortless and easy and Steve knew it was dangerous territory. He so quickly forgot all of the reasons why he shouldn't be here with you right now when your leg was brushing against his own, your head thrown back in a fit of laughter as he recalled an embarrassing story about Keith from the previous week and Christ, he had missed your infectious laugh.

He had missed everything about you.

He couldn't remember the last time you two had been alone together, it had to have been a couple of months at least and it felt nice that he had you all to himself for a little while without any distractions. Some of his favourite times had been your shifts together at Family Video, making each other laugh non stop, discussing the latest gossip of the town while stacking the shelves, taste testing the new candy when Keith left early like he always did and making up little games to play on nights where the hours just seemed to drag. You brightened up the store every time you walked in, made work fun and bearable and he looked forward to any shift that he got to spend with you.

That was until you went and left of course.

Steve had been utterly devastated the day Robin told him you'd given your two weeks to Keith, confused as to why you hadn't told him yourself and a little hurt that he was the last to know. He remembers Eddie coming to pick you up on your last day, a shit eating grin on his face now that you were going to work at the Hideout, meaning he'd get to see his new girlfriend way more while Steve got to see you much less. He had to clench his fists as he watched you walk out the door with Eddie, forcing a smile as you looked over your shoulder, giving him one last look before waving goodbye with tears in your eyes. He wanted so badly for you to change your mind, wanted to beg you to reconsider but Robin reminded him that it was for the best, hoping it would give Steve the time he needed to get over you.

“Y’know I was really starting to worry about you, was even thinking about setting up a search party.” You giggle, taking Steve away from him thoughts as he rolls his eyes playfully.

“I’m flattered you were so concerned about me.”

“I’m serious! I kept asking Dustin about you but he said he hadn’t seen you much either.”

“Well if you hadn’t left Family Video to go work with your boyfriend, you’d still see me everyday.” Steve responds in a tone that’s half teasing/half bitter and he winces seeing how taken aback you are by his comment

“Eddie’s not the reason I left, Steve.” You reply, pressing the bottle to your lips. If only he knew the real reason.

“Oh come on, why else would you leave? I can’t imagine it was for the scenic views or massive wage increase.” He scoffs sarcastically as you avoid his gaze.

“It was just time for me to move on.” You shrug, tugging on your bottom lip, wishing he would drop this topic.

“What do you mean? I thought you liked working at the Video store?” He quizzes, confused by your answer.

“I did, I loved it there but I just needed a change.”

“But that doesn’t make any—”

“Steve, can we please drop it?” You beg, your lips turning downward in a frown as you fidget with the hem of your boyfriends t-shirt.

“Yeah—yeah sure, sorry. I didn’t mean to be an asshole about it, it’s just that…I miss you. I mean, we miss you, Robin and I.” He swallows hard as you smile at him, your cheeks turning hot at his words.

“I miss you too, Steve. Both of you.” You reveal before a silence falls over the room for a moment.

"Are you hungry? You wanna order a pizza or I’m pretty sure there’s potato chips in the cupboard if you want some? You ask, finally easing the tension between you.

"I'm good. I had dinner in Enzo's a while ago.” Steve mumbles.

"Ah, I thought you were a little too dressed up just to come here and get drunk with Eddie. Were you on a date or something?" You question, raising your brows suspiciously at him, trying to ignore the knot forming in your stomach.

"Third one this month." He sighs, taking another sip of beer, completely missing the subtle hint of jealousy that flashes across your face momentarily.

"Wow, three dates huh? You must really like her." You force a smile, taking a drink from your own bottle as he huffs and shakes his head.

"Oh, it wasn't with the same girl. I meant three different dates, all equally terrible though." Steve confesses, a heavy sigh escaping his lips and you hate the relief you feel when you hear him say it.

"You really have been busy, no wonder we haven’t seen you lately." You say sarcastically as Steve remains silent, trying to hold himself back from saying everything he wanted to. He wants to tell you the reason you haven’t seen him is because he’s terrified of his feelings for you. That the reason he's going on so many dates is so he can try and move on from you. He wants to tell you that he’s terrified of ruining his friendships because he can’t stop thinking about you, that he can't stand seeing you with Eddie, because every time he sees his friend kiss you, he wants to punch his lights out, ‘cause you're supposed to be his girl. But he's too fucking late. He missed his chance with you and it's something he's going to have to live with for the rest of his life.

“So, what was so terrible about them?" You ask, turning to face him as he sits back trying to think of how best to answer that question. The only real answer he has to give is that they weren't you and nothing after that really mattered. He plays with the paper wrapped around his bottle, tearing it off bit by bit as you burn a hole through his head, waiting for a response. He's too afraid to look at you, terrified that if he does, it'll give him away and you'll figure it out for yourself, that he's completely and utterly head over heels in love with you.

"I uh, I guess none of them were really for me." He shrugs, keeping his eyes on the carpet below as you gaze at your friend sympathetically, knowing that feeling all too well.

"I'm sure you'll know the one when she comes along, Steve." You reassure, placing your hand on his knee as he lets out a dry laugh.

"I did." He mutters, taking the last sip from the bottle as you stare at him.

"What do you mean you did?" You question, tilting your head as his eyes widen in panic. Shit. He didn't mean for you to hear that, didn't mean to say it out loud. Had the two beers already gone to his fucking head?

"I– I just meant..." He pauses for a moment to look at you, really look at you as he thinks about what to say next. How does he get himself out of this? Should he just tell you the truth? Was now the right time to say it? Was being here alone with you a sign that he should just come out and tell you how he feels? Was it worth taking that risk?

"You're talking about Nancy, right?" You frown, releasing a heavy sigh as he contemplates how to respond. His stomach is sick that you think he still cares for Nancy in that way, he hasn't given her a second thought since you came along and took his breath away but maybe it was better for you to think that instead of him ruining his friendship with you, instead of ruining his friendship with Eddie. Because after all, he'd rather have you in his life as a friend than not have you in it at all. That would truly kill him.

"Yeah, I...I'm talking about Nancy." He lies and your heart sinks all over again.

Of course he's talking about Nancy. Robin had told you all about the girl Steve had been in love with for years during your first shift alone with her at Family Video. How she was the only girl he'd ever loved, how he'd changed his ways for her in High School and how he still wanted a whole brood of mini Harrington's with her even though she’d broken his heart. When you eventually did meet Nancy though, you fully understood what he saw in her. She was beautiful, smart and perfect, everything a guy like Steve Harrington could ever want.

Everything you felt you weren’t.

“Steve, if it’s Nancy you really want, maybe it’s time to just be honest with her?” You suggest, trying to stop yourself from falling to pieces in front of him.

Steve finally lifts his head to lock eyes with yours, your words starting to replay in his mind “maybe it’s time to just be honest with her.”

“How can I tell her how I feel when she’s with somebody else?” He asks, his stomach in knots, his insides twisting as he watches you chew on your bottom lip.

“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel the same way about you, maybe she’s just really good at hiding it.” You shrug defeated, as he tries to read your face for an answer to a question that’s kept him up late at night. Could it be possible that you have feelings for him too? That you’ve been just as good at hiding them as he has? Maybe even better?

“You…you think she could feel the same way about me?” He asks, finally sitting up, turning towards you fully.

“I guess there’s really only one way to find out.” You reply, forcing a smile, hoping you don’t look too devastated as you stand up to collect the empty bottles from the coffee table. Needing to remove yourself from this conversation fast.

Just as you reach out to grab the first one, you feel Steve’s warm hand softly wrap around yours, holding you in place as he stares at you petrified.

“Steve, what—”

“It’s not Nancy.” He interrupts, a total look of despair on his face as he takes a deep breath. You’re eyeing him in utter confusion as you take a seat beside him again.

“What do you mean it’s not Nancy? I don’t under—”

“I’m in love with you.” He finally confesses, the words falling from his mouth too fast for him to catch, to hold back and bury deep beneath the surface again and for the first time in months he feels like he can finally breathe again. Unfortunately for Steve, the relief only lasts a couple of seconds as panic sets in and he realises that he's just confessed to loving his best friend's girlfriend.

He’s too afraid to look at your face, terrified of what your reaction will be, so instead, he keeps his eyes glued to the floor, ashamed of himself for putting you in this predicament. He's completely fucked everything up.

“I'm sorry, please don't hate me. The last thing I intended to do tonight was tell you that I love you. Fuck, I didn't even think you'd be here, you weren't supposed to be here! I've just been trying to stay away from you hoping that these stupid feelings would just go away you know? But it's been so hard and I missed you and then I show up here looking for Eddie but then I see you after so long and I just couldn't keep it in any longer, it's been killing me for months." Steve rambles, placing his hands over his face as you sit frozen in silence.

"I think it's probably for the best if I go." He says, standing up to leave you alone, grabbing his keys from the countertop.

"So you just drop a bomb on me like that and think you just get to walk away?" You say, finally finding your voice, rising to your feet.

"I just thought maybe you'd want some space or maybe you'd never want to see me again." Steve shrugs. noticing the utter shock on your face.

"We live in Hawkins Steve, we have the same friends. I don't think never seeing each other again is a realistic option." You state, trying to take everything in. Steve lets out a sigh of relief, happy you haven't immediately jumped to cutting him out of your life yet.

"You said it's been killing you for months, how long is that exactly?" You question, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. It's an easy answer for Steve as he knows the very moment he fell in love with you.

“Do you remember the day that really nice old man came into the store looking for a copy of Casablanca?" He asks as you nod your head, recalling it instantly. It's something you'd never forget.

The man had come in on an unusually rainy day in the hopes of renting the movie he and his wife had watched together every year on the day of their wedding anniversary. He told you both of his wife's recent passing after a lengthy battle with an illness and how he had decided to bury their copy of the movie with her, so she could still watch it with him wherever she was.

"You took him for coffee on your lunch break that day knowing he was all alone while I looked for the movie in the back. You let him cry and talk about his wife even though you didn't know her. You gave him the time of day that no one else would have and when I found the movie, you told him to keep it and you took a twenty from your own purse to cover the cost. You told him you hoped one day you'd know a love like theirs and I remember thinking... fuck I'm so in love with that girl." Steve smiles, eyes glassy as you too have to wipe away the tears that had fallen down your cheeks.

"He still comes in you know? Asks about you all the time, wonders if I ever made a move. Called me a dumbass when I told him I missed my chance." He jokes, trying to make you smile but somehow the whole thing makes you angry.

"If you felt that way about me then, why didn't you tell me? That was months before I was even with Eddie, Steve!" You challenge, folding your arms as Steve runs a hand through his hair.

"I don't know, the timing just never seemed to be right."

"Oh please, we only worked together almost every day for over a year, we hung out almost every single night." You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"Well yeah but we were never really alone together. There was always someone else around, Keith, Robin, the kids, Eddie..."

"Come on Steve, those are bullshit excuses and you know it!" You argue as he shakes his head.

"It's not like it matters anyway, I mean, it's not like you felt the same way or anything!" He fights back as you stand silent, hand over your mouth, eyes on the floor.

That's when the penny finally drops for Steve.

"Shit, you did feel the same didn't you? You had feelings for me?" He questions softly as you wrap your arms around yourself, nodding a yes. He's been so blind, so stupid. How didn't he see this? How did you hide it so well?

"It's hardly that shocking, is it? I mean you're Steve Harrington, girls have been falling in love with you your whole life." You joke as Steve remains silent. "I didn't want to like you. Christ, when I started working at Family Video I expected to hate you but you weren't what I thought you'd be. You were funny and kind and caring and god, I saw how those kids worshipped you. It was only a matter of time really." You admitted. " There were times that I thought, 'maybe he likes me too' you know? But then Robin told me all about Nancy, how much you loved her, how you'd changed for her and I thought it was game over for me. She was just so perfect, I mean, how could I ever compete with someone like her?"

"There would never have been a contest, it would have been you every single time." Steve whispers, wanting to reach out for you.

"That's why you left Family Video isn't it? Cause you thought I still loved Nancy?" He asks as you nod again.

"I had to try to get over you."

"Did it work?"

"It doesn't matter Steve." You brush off the question, trying to walk away but he catches your hand gently.

"It matters to me."

"I'm with Eddie now. How I feel about you isn't going to change that." You state as Steve heavily accepts your words, however crushing they might be. He would always respect your decision, caring too much about you and Eddie to deliberately ruin your relationship.

"But if you weren't, and I had asked you out back then, would we be together now?" He asks, wiping the tears from your face. You already know the answer in your heart and you know Steve does too.

"Yeah, I think we would be. I know we would be." You assert as a single tear falls down his cheek. "But I can't do that to Eddie, I can't leave him."

"And I would never ask you to, honey. Fuck, I really messed this up." He sniffs as you shake your head. "We both did, Steve." You cry as he holds you close for several minutes.

"I better get going, I'm sure Munson will be home soon." He sighs, reluctantly letting you go, wishing he could keep you in his arms forever. He once again grabs his keys and heads for the front door as you follow close behind.

"Steve?"

"Hmm?"

"I do by the way, I do still love–" He cuts you off, pressing his lips lightly to yours for a brief moment before pulling away when he feels you kiss back, knowing if he'd waited a second longer, Eddie would arrive home to his best friend making love to his girlfriend.

"Please don't say it." Steve begs closing his eyes. "I'm trying to do the right thing here and walk away, if I hear you say that, I don't think I'll be able to leave without you." He whispers as you cup his face.

"Then you better go now because if you kiss me again, I don't think i'll have the strength to stop myself from going with you." You cry as he nods, exiting the trailer, walking back to his car, giving you one last look as he opens the BMW door. He smiles at you through glassy eyes, both of your hearts breaking as you wonder what could have been. Where does your friendship go from here? How are you supposed to forget about this night? How do you pretend that you aren't utterly and completely in love with each other?

"Goodnight honey."

"Goodnight Steve."

[imloyaltoscoups]

i'm ready | yoon jeonghan

After seven long years, you finally find yourself in a place of true peace and contentment. The journey to this point hasn't been easy - the scars of heartbreak and betrayal ran deep, and it took time to heal and rebuild yourself.

But you did it. You persevered through the nightmares, finding strength in your own resilience and determination. With each passing day, you focused on your own growth and development, pouring your energy into your studies and your personal pursuits.

Completing your PhD was a milestone, a testament to your dedication and perseverance. It wasn't just an academic achievement: it was a symbol of your triumph over adversity, a tangible reminder of how far you've come since the pain of your past.

Along the way, you learned valuable lessons about self-love and self-care. You realized the importance of prioritizing your own needs and desires, of carving out space for yourself in a world that often demands so much of us.

The first years were undoubtedly the hardest. You struggled to find your footing, grappling with the weight of your emotions and the uncertainty of starting over. You were cautious with those who approached, wary of opening yourself up to the possibility of hurt once again.

But with time, you learned to trust yourself again. You rediscovered your worth and your strength, and you refused to let the pain of your past define you. You learned to allocate love and care for yourself, recognizing that you are deserving of the same kindness and compassion that you so freely gave to others.

You pause mid-packing, taken aback by your friend's unexpected enthusiasm. They shake the ticket with excitement, their smile infectious despite your initial reluctance.

"Y/N!!! We're going to Koreaaaa!" they exclaim, their voice filled with enthusiasm.

You hesitate, the memories of your past trip to Korea still lingering in the corners of your mind. The thought of returning to the place where so much heartache had occurred fills you with a sense of apprehension.

But before you can voice your concerns, your friend speaks up again, their tone resolute. "You're okay now, right? So it's okay to visit that country again. And besides, who knows when we'll have the chance to see our friends first ever exhibit. If you're worried of bumping with that piece of shit. Don't worry—I'll give him a piece of my mind. Maybe even a punch and a chokeslam for good measure!... I should have been with you when you went there" she pouted.

Their words catch you off guard, but you can't help but laugh at their fierce loyalty. Despite your reservations, their unwavering support gives you a glimmer of courage.

"Alright," you say, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "This is for our girl."

With a newfound sense of determination, you resume packing, knowing that this trip will be different from the last. Armed with the support of your friend and the strength you've gained from overcoming your past, you're ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead. And who knows? Maybe this time, Korea will hold new memories of joy and adventure, rather than pain and heartache.

As you arrive at the exhibit of your best friend, you're filled with a sense of pride and excitement. You rush forward and envelop her in a big hug, a smile spreading across your face.

"Congratulations queen, you did it!" you exclaim, squeezing her tightly. "I'm so proud of you for pursuing your dream of being an artist. Look at the crowd!"

She returns the hug with equal enthusiasm, her eyes shining with happiness. "Thank you so much! I couldn't have done it without you guys. You two kept on pushing me to do this and here we are."

She then shows you around the exhibit, pointing out each piece with pride, you can't help but marvel at her talent and creativity. Each painting tells a story, a reflection of her passion and dedication to her craft.

As you admire her work, she offers you two a glass of champagne, a gesture of celebration for this momentous occasion.

"Cheers to you and your incredible talent," you say, raising your glass in a toast. "May your art continue to inspire and captivate audiences around the world."

She clinks her glass against yours, a wide smile lighting up her face. "Thank you, and cheers to our friendship. I'm so grateful to have you two by my side."

Together, you three sip your champagne and continue to explore the exhibit, basking in the joy of this special moment shared between friends. And as you revel in the beauty of her art and the warmth of her friendship, you know that this is a memory you'll cherish for years to come.

Time pass by and your best friend excuses herself to greet other visitors, you nod understandingly, letting her immerse herself in the moment. Beside you, your other friend suddenly excuses herself to rushed off to the bathroom, leaving you alone amidst the bustling gallery.

As you scroll through the gallery, admiring the artwork, a familiar voice calls out your name. You turn around and are surprised to see Jeonghan standing there, holding a glass of champagne. To your own surprise, you feel no shock or hurt at his presence. Instead, you feel a sense of calm and resolution.

"Hi," he says, his voice tentative as he approaches you. "How are you?"

You offer him a small smile. "I'm doing better than ever," you reply confidently. "I got my PhD and now I'm planning on doing my residency."

Jeonghan's eyes light up with genuine pride. "That's amazing," he says, offering his congratulations. "I always knew you would achieve great things."

You exchange conversation for a while, catching up on each other's lives. Eventually, Jeonghan takes a deep breath and admits once again that he is truly sorry for the pain he caused in the past.

You nod, feeling a sense of closure wash over you. "I've forgiven you," you say simply.

His eyes widen with hope, and for a moment, you see the flicker of longing in his gaze. But before he can say anything else, a commotion interrupts the moment.

A little kid comes running towards you, calling you "mama." You glance down and see your baby boy, and you can't help but smile as you scoop him up into your arms.

"Where's Papa?" you ask, and just then, a voice responds—a man carrying your one-year-old daughter.

Jeonghan stands frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief as he takes in the sight of your family. You introduce your husband to him, and as you do, your baby boy innocently asks who the man you're talking to is.

"He's one of the singers mommy used to love," you reply gently, trying to keep the atmosphere light.

Jeonghan introduces himself to your family, his emotions held back as he struggles to maintain his composure. But as the moment stretches on, you can see the glass in his hand trembling, a silent testament to the storm of emotions raging within him.

"Mama, can we look for Tatie?" your baby boy asks, his eyes wide with curiosity.

You smile down at him and give a nod. "Of course, sweetheart. Let's go find her," you reply, your heart swelling with love for your children.

Turning to Jeonghan, you offer a polite smile. "It was nice meeting you again," you say sincerely.

Your baby boy tugs at your hand, eager to leave. "Goodbye, Uncle!" he chirps before running off with your husband and daughter.

Jeonghan watches them go, his face a mixture of shock and sadness. You offer him a sympathetic smile before turning away to search for your best friend.

As you walk with your husband by your side, his arm wrapped around you protectively, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. You lean into him, grateful for his unwavering support and patience.

"Thank you for being so patient love," you murmur, pressing a quick peck to his cheek.

He smiles down at you, his eyes filled with warmth. "You're very brave, you know that," he says simply, his voice filled with admiration.

You feel a surge of gratitude for the life you've built together, for the love and happiness that surrounds you. And as you continue to search for your best friends, you realize that maybe visiting Korea isn't so bad after all, especially when you have your family by your side.

In that moment, you realize that the greatest revenge you can provide to Jeonghan is finding your own happiness without him. And as you find your own people who cherish and support you, you know that you've already won.

part 1, part 2

....... ≿━━━━༺JEONGHAN༻━━━━≾ .......

[sabertoothwalrus]

hi !! just curious because i was looking at your adventure time episode guide and i love hearing other peoples adventure time takes !! how come you don't like finn's characterisation in together again?

I've talked about it before here and here!

But also I'm gonna say more and share some art I did in 2021 for a rewrite comic that I never got around to doing

So again to reiterate: Adventure Time is usually VERY good at making it feel like time passes, even when you're not watching. It's something about what they don't show that tells you everything you need to know.

Together Again did not do this.

It really really felt like they were avoiding showing Finn as an adult, as if they wanted to leave his post-show life ambiguous. Which, now that Fionna and Cake has shown us literally that, it makes Together Again feel even more wrong?? Like. imagine you have to pick a moment from your life that represents You™ the most. Together Again said that Finn, after living his whole life and dying as an old man, feels most represented by how he was at 17. I do not buy this. I am 25, and I cannot fathom identifying by my 17 year old self. I was a completely different person then, I was still cooking. I can imagine most people feel the same. And ok, so maybe Finn DOES for some reason feel stuck at 17? Explain to me why!! What needed to happen to him that made him feel that way?

And before you just say "it's because Jake died," there's still too much that was left out. How old was Finn when Jake died? What was Finn like, at that point? What else had they accomplished? What was he doing at the time that was on the forefront of his mind? Where/with who did they spend most of their time? Where were they living after the treehouse got destroyed?

It was like,,, it was like the story Together Again actually wanted to tell was about Finn's grief, and how poorly he copes, and how too much of his identity is tied to Having Jake, and how he struggles to move on. But that's not the story we got. I honestly think-- as interesting as it was-- everything with New Death and Tiffany and Lich just did a disservice to the focus, which was Finn trying to get over Jake.

I think Together Again should have gone like this:

Finn and Jake had always planned that whoever died first would wait in the dead world for the other to die so the two of them could reincarnate. Jake dies first. Jake would be able to "watch over" Finn as he lives the rest of his life, so Jake wouldn't miss Finn as much as vice versa, since he'd feel like he's still there with him. Eventually, Finn dies.

Finn's appearance would change with his emotional state. I thought it'd be interesting to show different phases of his life through the stages of grief.

There'd be a room where they could watch Finn's memories. Finn would walk Jake through the events of his life. We SEE exactly how Finn dealt with grief, with heartbreak, with love, with friends, with community. All the good and all the bad.

By the end of it, Finn is quiet. "Jake... when we reincarnate, will we.. lose all of this?" "Well, do you remember anything from any of your other past lives?" "No.. But that's the point. I don't want to forget you." Finn, despite their promise, despite Jake waiting for him all this time, declines reincarnating. He doesn't want to move on, because that would mean forgetting everything. He wants to say with Jake!! He JUST got Jake back!!

“What if— in the future— what if they forget about us? What if they don’t know about all the stuff we did?” We see Ooo in its current state. It’s changed, but it’s clearly been affected by the two of them. Every person they’ve saved, every civilization they helped build, every hero they’ve inspired. They’ve left their touch everywhere. “They’ll know,” Jake says with certainty. “We’ll know.” We see the future, with Shermy and Beth. We see the Finn Sword, and BMO with all their old belongings. Everything stays, but it still changes. Will happen, happening, happened. These have always been the themes of the show. They reincarnate, together.

[pandorasfavorite]

HIII I LOVE YOUR FICS!!!!

Now I saw the "kiss" between Dom and Liv, so I was wondering if you could make a fic between a subby bratty dom and a dom reader where the reader is watching backstage and gets really jealous, so when he comes back, she ignores him for a while, but then when they get home, she punishes him and there's like A LOT of smut!!!!! 😽😽

like SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT!!!!!

"Thank you Emma" we all say in unison

Buried by Eyes

AN: we are gonna pretend he isn’t injured for the sake of the fic, also just know guys I love writing but it's just hard to do. I have two jobs so I'm trying to find time, but I can write the part two for this. its 1am

Jealously was one word for it, another 3 words for it was heartbreak, anger, and determination. Your patience was wearing thin every passing day your fiance spent being a good person. His sweet tendencies were one of the main reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. Dominik has actively been trying to make sure that Rhea didn’t have to face Liv for the title; something you see as kind. But also the more he worked toward it the more jealous you became to be. Why would YOUR fiance be working so hard for a mere friend? Though tonight was a completely different story, for 5 minutes after the kiss you racked your brain for reasons. It continuously played in your head over and over like a never-ending record; he didn’t seem to enjoy it but he didn’t push her away. He grimaced and wiped his mouth… minutes afterward. Would she linger on his lips when you kissed him?

Dominik on the other hand was flipping out; he really didn’t know what to do or what to think when he came face to face with you in 60-something seconds. Dominik’s hands were twitching and he was continuously shaking his head after every fearful thought. Therefore when he turned the corner, he cussed instantly at your disgusted face and crossed arms. You had still been staring at the small screen in the hall, that was now playing something entirely different; Dom could only hope they wouldn’t replay the kiss over again.

Dominik huffed out an anxious breath and shook out the tension in his hands. He knew the only thing he could do at this moment was to man up and apologize INSTANTLY. Even that wasn’t going to be enough; Dominik would be stupid to think otherwise. Surprisingly enough your head didn’t turn at the sound of him walking towards you; or even when he was right in front of you. Your eyes bored into Dominik’s and you didn’t say a word; your face was hard to describe. You looked angry, but it also seemed like you were blank-faced and weren’t really registering that it was your fiance in front of you. Dominik cleared his throat and looked down at you, “Baby-“. Your eyes flashed with a ripple of anger, and it seemed like you finally grasped who it was in front of you.

You said nothing; Dominik literally gulped and his hands went right back to fidgeting. He shook his head and tried again, “Baby, I know what you’re thinking right now-“, he cut himself off again at your look. This time you smiled and nodded; that’s when Dominik realized how bad this really was. Before he thought maybe it wouldn’t have rattled you much; but the sarcastic and sinister smile deterred his thoughts elsewhere. You take a step back away from him, Dominik surely felt his heart crack. “Tell me, what am I thinking right now Dominik?”, you had used his real name and you looked so furious; Dom was almost on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Yet he was smart enough to know answering that question was a trap.

Dominik was at a loss for what to do; he could only think of one thing that could possibly humiliate him for the rest of his career. Of course, you were more important; Dominik sunk to his knees in front of you and grabbed your hands to hold in his. “I fucking hated that and I didn’t have time to react, I need you to believe me”. You nod and look into his eyes; searching for lies when really they were drowning in truth. “I believe you”, would be the only thing you say until you get home… 35 minutes later.

Dominik apologized nonstop on the way home and through the door, so much to you've grown tired of the words being uttered from his lips. You of course felt many confounding feelings, which brought a horrible tension between you and Dominik. You didn't want to be mad at him, considering he was unexpecting and didn't kiss her back. Though you were only human, and the anger pricked at you with every thought. Dominik opened the door for you; only to follow you like a sad puppy everywhere you walked. One smart idea graced your mind when you walked into the house...you had stormed into the bathroom and grabbed a rag out of the closet. You pulled Dominik inside by the collar of his shirt and you slammed the rag into his hands. "Scrub them", you demanded and crossed your arms over your chest.

Dominik was astonished, so much so that he gaped at you like a fish. "What?", he asked and looked down at the rag in confusion. You titled your head at his question, "Did I stutter? I said scrub your lips Dominik, or you'll never kiss mine again". Dominik understood you that time, he never moved so quickly in his life to wet the rag and scrub his lips clean; nearly raw. After a bit of time, Dominik put the rag and looked down at you, his lips were red and swollen from how harshly he was working towards getting rid of any traces of what happened. Really it was for him and you; Dom was disgusted by Liv, to say the least. He truly didn't want to be around her EVER again if he could help it. Therefore after scrubbing his lips, Dominik waited for your approval.

You stood and looked at him with a long silence; you debated the next course of action. Part of you knew Dom honestly did no wrong, but fuck LIv and fuck Dominik for being around her in the first place. No really fuck Dominik. You had taken a step towards him, you grabbed him by the chin and made him lean down closer so you could inspect him. Your thumb traced over his raw lips; trying to decide how pleased you were. "You have two options", Dominik's breath hitched, "come to bed or sleep on the couch".

---------------------------------------------------

"m' sorry baby, please please let me cum', Dominik lifted off the bed to slide his cock up against your hand, "I've been good"

"Have you? Cause what I seen earlier was far from it"

Dominik yanked on the restraints with pent-up frustration; if he kept that up surely he would break free, "I didn't ask for that shit" he gritted. Your eyebrows flew up in surprise and your mouth fell into shock, you stopped touching him completely. You saw his eyes starting to water but you were still ridden with what happened on live TV, therefore you didn't humor him. "Now you're cussing at me, should I have you wash your mouth out instead this time?", you commented.

Dominik panted harshly; seemingly whimpering and groaning at the same time, "No no baby I swear, I'm sorry I won't do it again- fuck just- touch me. Touch me I'm begging you, I've been waiting so long mami". Dominik withered in need, and the more time he spent under your feather-light touches; the more he realized how much he detested punishments. You dragged them out, each touch made his body feel as if it was bursting into flames and his heart rate picked up when you fluttered your lashes at him; no wonder he is starting to hyperventilate with the idea of cumming. You trailed your fingertips down the side of Dominik's jaw and cheek and down his chest, loving the way he tossed his head back harshly against the pillow with a groan; in a desperate needy manner that only you could see.

You finally started to stroke Dominik's leaking cock, tears began to pool in his eyes and slide down his cheek. You'd be worried for him if it wasn't so abundantly clear the tears were from relief, not sadness. Dominik was in his own hazy world of pleasure, already feeling the being of a crushing orgasm-- it was so intense to the point he was mumbling without reason. "that's it, just a little more sweet girl", he begged you when he wasn't in the position to be telling you anything. Next, he will be tirelessly eating you out, longer than he can stand.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Not Since I Found You

Requested Here!

Pairing: (divorced)Deacon Kay x fem!reader

Summary: After Annie was changed by her brain tumor, she left Deacon. Now that he has you in his life, she decides that she doesn't want him to move on and does everything she can think of to sabotage your relationship.

Warnings: Annie is completely different after removing the brain tumor, angst, lots of fluff, quick tense change

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Deacon’s end-of-shift routine had changed drastically over the past year. Before, he would rush home to see Annie and hug his kids. Now, he sits on a bench in the locker room, looks at pictures of Matthew, Lila, and Samuel, and counts down the days until he can see them again. Anything he could do at work to delay going home to a cold and lonely apartment, he’d do it.

After Annie awoke from her surgery to remove the tumor in her brain, she was different. Deacon tried everything he could to remind Annie of why they fell in love and convince her that it could be the same as before. The Annie Deacon once knew was long gone, and the new Annie wasted no time filing for divorce and getting custody of the kids. So, Deacon spent the next year in a vicious cycle of loneliness, struggling to accept what has happened and wondering if he’ll ever feel alive again. But then, he left SWAT HQ on a random weekday, went to a park to walk, and met you. Then, suddenly, everything brightened again.

Less than a week later, you became part of Deacon’s life. He texted you often, made plans to hang out, and, by the end of the month, asked you on a date. Despite the heartbreak he’s been through and the misery he has allowed himself to stay in, Deacon fell for you quickly.

“Are you free tonight?” Deacon asks over the phone.

“Mm, I’ll have to check my schedule,” you joke. “I think I can squeeze you in.”

“My team is going out to dinner tonight, and I want you to come.”

“Deacon,” you begin.

“I’m sure,” he answers before you ask. “You’re important to me, and they’re my family.”

“I’ll be there.”

“I’ll pick you up,” Deacon corrects you. “See you tonight.”

Several hours later, you hold Deacon’s hand as you enter the restaurant. His team is his family, and you know that meeting them is important. Your relationship is getting serious, and tonight solidifies that.

“Hondo, Street, Chris, Tan, Luca, this is my girlfriend,” Deacon begins once you’re seated.

Immediately, you’re greeted with handshakes, hugs, questions, and smiles. Talking to them is easy. It's like they’ve been your best friends for as long as they’ve been Deacon’s. Deep down, however, a small, nagging question wonders if they like you or if this is an act for Deacon’s benefit.

After you receive your drinks, you excuse yourself to use the restroom, and Chris joins you.

“Thank you,” Chris says, pulling you into a hug in the privacy of the women’s room.

“For what?” you question.

“Being so great for Deacon. Watching what he went through with Annie was… it was awful. But then you came along, and he’s happy again. We want the best for him, and that’s you.”

“You think so?”

Chris scoffs as she rolls her eyes. “If you could see how he looks at you, you wouldn’t have a single doubt. You’re good for each other, and he loves you.”

“Thank you, Chris.”

“More importantly than Deacon, you also got a new best friend.”

“Street?” you tease.

She shoves you gently before she loops her arm through yours. “No one likes Street, that’s one thing you need to know.”

“Deacon seems to,” you argue playfully.

“Deacon has a thing for strays.” Chris realizes what she implied and adds, “Not you!”

“I got it. We’re best friends now, right? So, don’t worry about offending me.”

“Oh, I knew I’d like you.”

“Sorry,” Tan says as he pulls his shopping cart toward him.

“No worries,” the person behind the other cart says.

“Annie?” Tan questions, stepping forward to see her.

“Victor, hi,” she greets. “How are you?”

“Annie,” a man calls as he walks down the aisle. “Sorry.”

“It’s our second date and we both forgot that cooking requires ingredients,” Annie explains.

“Well, good for you,” Tan says. “Glad to see you and Deacon are both moving on. Have a nice night.”

Annie watches Tan walk past; though her date is talking to her, she can only focus on one thing. Deacon and another woman. Annie may not love him anymore but does not appreciate the visual. She doesn’t want to see Deacon with someone else, no matter what.

“Annie?” her date tries again. “Tomato basil or marinara?”

“You pick,” she mumbles. He nods and weighs the options while Annie considers what she could do to ensure that Deacon won’t move on. As far as she’s concerned, he has no reason to move on after her.

Deacon is nearly ready for your date when someone knocks on his door. He is surprised to see Annie and his kids standing outside. When Lila reaches forward to knock, he pulls the door open and squats to hug her.

“Hey!” he greets as the boys join the hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Surprising you!” Lila answers happily.

“Something came up and I have to meet someone, not sure when I’ll be done,” Annie says. She looks at his nice outfit and adds, “But if you’ve got plans, I can-“

“No, no,” Deacon replies hurriedly. “I can watch them.”

“Great. Thanks, David.”

Annie disappears down the hall, smiling to herself for her success in keeping him from meeting his date. While she celebrates her perceived victory, Deacon takes his kids inside, abandons his suit jacket on a chair, and dials your number.

“Hey, Deac,” you greet when you answer.

“Hi,” he begins. “I’m so sorry, but Annie just dropped the kids off and needs me to watch them tonight.

“I understand, Deacon. Enjoy your time with them; we can reschedule.”

“Thank you.”

Lila reaches up toward Deacon’s phone, and he smiles as he lowers it and puts it on speaker. “Someone wants to say hi,” Deacon tells you.

“Hi!” Lila calls.

“Well, hello, Lila,” you reply happily. “I hope you have fun with your dad tonight.”

“Are you coming over?” she asks.

“You can if you want,” Deacon adds before you can answer.

“What does Lila want?” you inquire.

Lila smiles up at Deacon, and he answers for her, “She wants to see you.”

“What if I come over for dinner and then let you enjoy some family time after?” you suggest.

“That sounds perfect, we’ll see you then.”

Deacon ends the call and sits on the couch with his kids. Spending time with them and you is better than the expensive reservation you had, he thinks. Deacon may never know what Annie’s plan was, but her attempt at sabotage actually made Deacon’s night better. Besides, you’d already met his kids when they stayed with him for a weekend, and they enjoy your company almost as much as he does.

“Here to see Deacon?” Street asks when he notices you waiting at SWAT HQ.

“I am,” you answer with a smile. “He’s in a meeting; Hondo told me I could wait here.”

“Don’t make me give you a parking ticket,” he teases.

Around the corner, Annie stops when she hears Deacon’s name. More, when she hears that another woman is here to see Deacon. She doesn’t know if it’s the same person Tan mentioned or the same one whose date she interrupted, but she doesn’t like it. After Street leaves, she walks into the common area and sees you sitting in a chair with your phone in your lap.

“May I?” Annie asks, pointing to the empty chair beside you.

“Yes, of course,” you answer, smiling.

“Thanks. So, are you a cop’s wife?”

“No, just a girlfriend.”

“Then you’re the brave one in the relationship,” Annie says.

“Not at all. I worry about him all the time.”

Annie hums before she muses, “Seems like that would put a lot of strain on a relationship.”

“Well, the alternative is a complete lack of care and empathy. To me, that’s not even an option.”

“Sure, but… doesn’t that constant worry put a barrier between you? Or maybe your relationship is new enough that you haven’t noticed yet. He will.”

You nod and unlock your phone. Annie may not know you recognize her, but she’s in a few pictures at Deacon’s apartment. The first time you came over, he explained everything to you: the tumor, the sudden change in her personality, and how she broke his heart by leaving and taking his kids most of the time. You knew she had been changed by the tumor, but you didn’t expect she’d try to scare you into leaving Deacon.

Hondo steps out of the office and looks between you and Annie. When you lock eyes with him, he tips his head to invite you in while he walks toward Annie. You mouth thank you and walk quickly into the office where Deacon is. You decide not to tell him what Annie said, but you suspect he knows more about her new attitude than you do.

Annie slides a diamond ring onto her left hand and watches it glint in the light. She came to the jewelry store to get Lila a necklace for her birthday and was distracted by the row of shining engagement rings. When Deacon proposed, they were young, and he got a sentimentally rich ring that was cheap. At that point, she loved it, but now she wonders what it would have been like to have received a ‘real’ ring. She doesn’t miss Deacon, but she misses his devotion to her, how he’d never as much as look at another woman.

The bell over the door rings as it opens, and Annie returns the ring to the saleswoman and asks to see any kids’ jewelry they have.

“Annie?” Deacon asks.

Annie turns toward the door and smiles when she sees him. “David. Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” he asks, glancing at the engagement ring being returned to its display.

“Shopping for Lila’s birthday. I was thinking I’d get her a necklace; she’s been talking about getting one for weeks.”

Deacon nods, aware that Lila wants a necklace because she loves the one you wear daily.

“What about you? You’ve never been a jewelry guy,” Annie points out.

You don’t know what kind of guy I am anymore, Deacon thinks. “Just replacing the chain,” Deacon says, tugging on the necklace tucked under his shirt.

Annie nods and follows the saleswoman to a different display case as Deacon approaches a desk at the back of the store.

“I have a pickup for David Kay,” he tells the man at the desk.

The man types his name, nods, and excuses himself to retrieve the order. Deacon looks at the back wall but is aware of where Annie is (a job hazard and an annoyance in this situation).

“Here you are, Mr. Kay,” the man says as he passes a bag over the desk. “It has been sized and polished, as requested.”

“Perfect,” Deacon replies. “Thank you.”

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Annie asks.

“What girl?”

“You and I both know it’s not a necklace chain.”

“You and I don’t know anything anymore, Annie.” Deacon begins to step past her, then adds, “Lila would like the one with the silver branch and flowers.”

As he leaves the jewelry store with your engagement ring at his side, Deacon focuses on you rather than Annie’s odd reaction to thinking he is proposing. She’d been unjustly angry and jealous after her surgery, even accused Deacon of cheating on her with Chris, and that shift in her mindset hasn’t gone away.

You text Deacon as he gets in his car, and his questions about Annie disappear as he smiles at your name.

Your phone rings while you are waiting for Deacon to arrive. The number isn’t one you recognize, but you answer anyway.

“Hello?” you greet.

“Hi, this is Annie Kay,” the woman on the other end says.

“Oh, um, hi,” you stutter. “How did you get my number?”

“That’s not important.”

“I think-“

“Listen, I’m just calling to warn you. I know that you think things are getting serious with David, Deacon, whatever you call him. But it won’t work out.”

“Annie,” you try to interrupt.

“It won’t work because he will never be as happy with you as he was with me.”

Deacon pulls in and parks, and you hang up on his ex-wife. The phone rings again, but you mute the ringer and walk out to greet Deacon.

“Are you okay?” he asks, cupping your face between his hands.

“Yeah,” you answer.

Deacon shakes his head, and you admit, “Annie just called me. She wanted to tell me that you’d never be as happy with me as you were with her.”

“I’m so sorry,” Deacon sighs. “I’ll talk to her.”

“She really changed, didn’t she?”

Deacon nods as his arms wrap around you. “She was wrong.”

“Oh, I know,” you agree playfully. “Deacon, I love you.”

“I love you,” he replies. “So much.”

Matthew, Lila, and Samuel are home with Annie the next time you and Deacon go on a date. He takes you to an overview where you can see where you met and brings a special picnic dinner. Around 8 p.m., Lila asks her mom to stay up later. Since there’s no school tomorrow, Annie agrees, and the kids watch the clock rather than the television above it.

Above Los Angeles, your watch changes to 8:15, and Deacon takes your hand as he encourages you to stand. He presses a button on his phone, and when the music begins to play, he pulls you close and dances with you. At 8:19 exactly, the song ends, and Deacon drops to one knee.

“Second chances aren’t guaranteed,” Deacon begins. “But you are by far the best second chance I’ve ever gotten. I love you more than I thought I could love anything ever again. You’re good with my kids, you don’t care that I’m used and have been broken over and over, and you never fail to make me feel like I’m the only man you’ll ever want.” Deacon pulls a velvet box from the picnic basket and raises the ring toward you to ask, “Will you keep loving me forever, and marry me?”

“Yes!” you yell, taking Deacon’s hand. “Deacon, yes.”

You drop to your knees to hug Deacon, but he redirects you to kiss you, and he pulls you just as close as when you were dancing. You and your love melt into Deacon for eternity.

In Annie’s living room, when the clock changes to 8:20, Matthew, Samuel, and Lila jump and cheer. Annie doesn’t know that her attempts to sabotage Deacon’s relationship will never work. Deacon’s children know they’re gaining a stepmom which is cause for celebration. However, everyone is in for a surprise when they learn Deacon plans to petition for custody.

“Deacon,” you say after you pull back. “You’re not broken.”

“Not anymore,” he agrees. “Not since I found you.”

[obsessivevoidkitten]

To Reject a Vampire

Male Vampire Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Non-con, vampire, biting, blood drinking, depressed reader, mind control, smut, blowjob, forced imprisonment, dead dove: do not eat, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 3.4k  (Vampire comm that took me way too long.) 

You were walking back home late one night with your friend, Jaime. You had known each other since childhood and remained inseparable. In fact, the two of you even lived right next door to one another. He had left for college for some years, but had returned as soon as he had become a registered nurse. The two of you often hung out when you were both off work and that sometimes led to walking to the gas station a couple blocks down the road to grab some snacks. You were both laughing from recounting a particularly funny memory you both shared when the sounds of laughter and chatter between the two of you suddenly died down into silence before he spoke. "Hey… there's something I wanted to ask you…" Oh no. Not again… "Have you maybe reconsidered us dating? I know you said no before but-" This was an ongoing problem with Jaime, the only thing really marring an otherwise near perfect friendship. He kept persistently asking you out. This had been going on for years now and your frustration finally got the better of you, making you snap. "NO!" You yelled interrupting him, "NO! NO! NO! NO! NOOOOO!!! It isn't happening! I am totally and completely uninterested in having any type of non-platonic relationship with ANYONE! Stop. Asking. It is NEVER going to happen. Not in this world or the next. Not in any way, shape, form, nor fashion! Get. It. Through. Your. Thick. Skull." You were panting after your outburst. A few seconds passed and you realized how harsh you had been as his face went from stunned silence to utter broken despair. You could practically hear his heart shatter. He often got a bit dejected when you had rejected him in the past, but this time you were much more harsh. With a sniff he started sobbing and running off towards home, leaving you to walk home alone in the quiet night. Sighing you slowly trudged home, sure that Jaime just needed to sulk for a few days before your friendship resumed with the both of you pretending like this awkward episode never happened. And, more than likely, that is just exactly what would have happened. Had a chance encounter on his way home not irreversibly changed Jaime forever. And not for the better. As Jaime was running home his tear filled eyes blinded him to the danger that was stalking him from the shadows. A sneaky predator who loved the taste tormenting his prey imparted, and how much sweeter when his meal was already flavored with the sweet marinade of sorrow and heartbreak? Suddenly Jaime was tackled into a dark alley that he was passing, the vampire easily dragging him back into the void where no eyes could pierce, firmly clasping his hand over Jaime's mouth to keep him quiet. The unknown assailant put his nose into the crook of Jaime's neck and inhaled deeply, savoring the mouthwatering scents of all the negative emotions Jaime had been experiencing that night. The current one being abject terror as the figure behind him didn't even acknowledge his vain attempts at struggling. "I'd tell you not to struggle, but it is really much more fun when you do," mused a deep man's voice. Jaime, whose first thought was that he was getting mugged, now thought that he was going to be raped as his attacker licked and kissed his neck in the same manner one's lover would. And he flailed all the more vigorously. Unperturbed, the man now violated Jaime in an altogether different and unexpected manner. Sinking long fangs easily into the soft flesh of his neck before sucking him nearly dry. It was amazing how thoroughly a vampire could drain a victim. Jaime died, but his murderer was not quite done with him. He loved sowing discord and chaos in any way that he could manage it, and having seen the spectacle early of you rejecting his victim he knew there was ruination and mayhem to be had by creating a fresh, unguided, love-sick vampire. So he bit open his wrist a bit and let the blood flow into the parted lips of our dear departed Jaime. Within an hour he would no longer be so dear nor so departed. And the unknown vampire stepped into the shadows and was never seen there again, happy with his meal and the knowledge that he had certainly derailed more than one life that night. When Jaime woke up hours later, just as the sun was rising, he had a major migraine, a sharp pain in his neck, was chilled to the bone, and felt like he was starving. His memory was spotty, he thought maybe he had been mugged, but he still had his phone and wallet on him. Maybe just assaulted by some crazy person. Whatever had happened he was alive and okay, so he shakily got to his feet, dusted himself off, and made his way home. By the time he had reanimated you had been in bed for hours. Though you hadn't really slept well. You felt so guilty for exploding on him like that. Sure, he kept asking you out, but it wasn't too often and you could have gone about rejecting him just a bit more gently. He had been really hurt, what if he didn't blow it off and resume your friendship like he usually did? After a few days had passed with no contact from him you began to get a bit more anxious, though it was still technically within the normal timeframe of when he usually started talking to you again after you turned down his advances. Still, given the way you had lashed out at him you figured that you should maybe be the one to check up on him instead. Jaime had a reason for not talking to you, what with his transition into a blood feeding immortal taking up most of his time. At first he had no idea at all what was happening to him. He felt cold and feverish and was beyond fatigued. He called off work from the first day, thinking he had a minor flu of some sort. All his senses were disorienting him. His body was adjusting to more sensitive vision, sense of smell, and even touch. The second day he felt better, but had an insatiable hunger, no matter what he ate nothing seemed to satisfy him. He ate a huge breakfast before work and at lunch he ate a lot as well. Some of his coworkers at the hospital even joked about how he was inhaling food that day. Jaime had no clue why he felt like he was starving no matter how much he ate. As someone in the medical field any number of possible causes went through his mind. Nothing really fit. A more concerning symptom was that whenever he was around a wounded patient, whenever he had to do a blood transfusion, or even just whenever he got the faintest whiff of blood his hunger flared up. His senses flared in sensitivity. He could almost have sworn he could hear the heartbeats of those near him. He realized he was craving the blood. It scared him, the thought made him nauseous. Admirably he managed to push away his quite literal blood lust for a couple days, but eventually he could fight his need for blood no longer. It was late at night at the end of his shift and he was beyond certain the coast was clear so he snuck into the storage room where the blood packs are kept and sunk his teeth into one, unknowingly growing fangs as he pierced it and sucked it dry. If the obvious signs hadn't been enough to clue him in on what he now was then innate instinctual knowledge that filled him with his first ingestion of vital human essence did. He was a vampire. A million thoughts raced through his mind, but his first priority was sating his hunger. He quickly grabbed some bags of blood and stuffed them into his coat for later before leaving for home. He was oddly excited, eager to test out what new abilities he had. A day later, when both of you were off work, you finally got a text from him asking to hang out with no mention of what had occurred between the two of you the other night. You breathed a sigh of relief, now things could go back to normal. The two of you had arranged for you to come by his house in a couple hours so the two of you could hang out, order pizza, and play video games. Just like the good old days. Things went entirely normal with no odd deviation or indication that Jaime was now a creature of the night. And it set the pace for your friendship to resume as if nothing had ever happened. Or so you thought, in the weeks since the two of you first started hanging out again Jaime had steadily been experimenting and training with his new found abilities. He had learned that he had an absurd tolerance to pain, extremely quick reflexes, and unholy strength. But, most importantly, he learned that he could compel anyone to do his bidding. He had plans to use this technique on you, but it wasn't quite perfected yet. Though every time he used it he got more and more effective. All he needed was practice and time. So while you went about life and continued your longest running friendship in blissful ignorance of what was to come he was readying himself for the day he could make you love him. When that day arrived it started like any other, you two hanging out at his place on a day when you were both off. But it definitely didn't stay that way. Jaime was at the point with his skill where he no longer even needed to issue commands verbally, he just needed good eye contact to assert his will over another being. "Hey is something wrong? Why are you staring at me so intensel-" You instantly went still and quiet. It was like you were trapped in your own body unable to do anything. When Jaime asked you if you would go out with him you wanted to say no but your lips were not your own and you said yes in a monotone voice. Jaime wore a shit-eating grin as he scooted closer to you and kissed you deeply. You were repulsed and afraid, why weren't you pushing him away, why weren't you slapping him, why were you returning the kiss? You wanted to scream and run away but you could do nothing to control your own body. Instead you wrapped your arms around him and made out with him. Jaime was thrilled, he bit your neck carefully and fed from you as you clung to him. You felt a sharp pain in your neck but could do nothing against it as he tasted your blood. For you it was hell, like a much worse and very real version of sleep paralysis. For Jaime it was heaven, he had never felt closer to you than in that moment. His beloved was finally in his arms and could do nothing to leave them. But he most certainly was not satisfied with that alone for long. Jaime carried you bridal style up to his bed. He very carefully undressed you, as if you were the most delicate doll to ever exist, and stood for a moment admiring every inch of your exposed body. You wanted to shout for help. To cover up. To run. To fight. ANYTHING but lay there under his unwavering gaze. But no matter how hard you tried to fight it you simply couldn't, you were a hostage in your mind, able to see and feel everything but do nothing. The first thing he did, after disrobing, was to attend to your sex. He touched your crouch carefully, as if afraid to hurt you. Like you might shatter at the slightest rough touch. He ran his eager hands, shaking with excitement, over every inch of you. He stroked your cheek tenderly and played with your hair, felt over your chest and thighs and hips. When he had thoroughly explored you and there were no more areas for his hands to discover he decided he needed to go deeper. The vampire took two lubed fingers and slowly worked them into you, gently prying your entrance open and stretching you to be ready for him. He savored every sensation and fold inside you, hard as a rock as he imagined his cock where his fingers were. You couldn't even cry as he violated you, you were denied even that emotional release. And this remained the case even as he slathered his cock with lube and aligned it with your entrance and made his way inside you with his slightly above average dick. Jaime was torturously slow as he "made love" with his dear partner. You just wanted this nightmare to be over, you wanted to believe that at any moment you would wake up sweating in bed like you would from any bad dream. You had to stare wide-eyed, made to take it all in, as he looked at you lovingly. He kissed you deeply, and once more you were made to comply, parting your lips so that he could move his tongue inside. Jaime happily rubbed his tongue against yours as he worked towards filling you with his hot seed. As he approached his climax he gripped your hip painfully and picked up the pace, really drilling you as deeply and as forcefully as he could, his balls slapping into you with each painful thrust. Right before he came he slowed down as much as possibly, wanting to draw out the sensation for as long as he could. Slowwwwwwly pulling out before sliding just as slowly back in, repeating this a few times before thrusting forward and emptying his balls into you as he bit the side of your neck that he left untouched earlier. You came too just as he did, your body now betraying you even further than it had already and in the most humiliating way. He drank a bit before sliding his dick out of you and kissing your cheek. "That was amazing babe! I love you so much!" And as a puppet pulled by its strings you replied, once more in monotone, "I love you too." And the illusion was shattered. It wasn't real. He may have had you, he may have even had your vocal chords, but he didn't have your emotions. And he soon learned that no matter what he tried, even though he could get you to do almost any action, he couldn't force you to love him. Jaime tried for weeks to force love for him into you, keeping you locked away in his house whenever he left for work. You tried to leave, of course, but simple orders lingered in you even when he was no longer present. You couldn't leave or get help in any way. All of your existence now amounted to was enduring his increasing frustration with being unable to make you love him interspersed with periods of anxiety while waiting for him to get home from work and torture you all over again. You were no longer aware of exactly how long you had been trapped, the days all kind of blended together. Most days he had work at the hospital and those days were all largely the same with little to no variation. Jaime would get up and make you breakfast in bed, insisting that he was trying to spoil you. You, in a mix of depression and defiance would not take a single bite and just stare at the plate that he brought to you on a tray with your favorite morning drink. Inevitably he would get frustrated, snap at you, force you to eat against your will, and slam the door as he went off to work. Then you were left alone, it was probably the only almost decent part of your day, but everything just seemed so hopeless. Inevitably the blood sucking parasite would be back and you couldn’t leave no matter how hard you tried to. At each attempt it was like someone seized your body and squeezed you into immobility until you submitted. When your “lover” got home he would fawn over you, often giving you a little gift. A small gesture you supposed was meant to somehow make you forget everything and fall helplessly in love with him. A small sweet treat, a flower, a tiny teddy bear. Anytime he tried this tactic you always ignored it or threw it across the room. Either way the result was the same. Jaime would snap, he would not even bother forcing you mentally as he grabbed your weak arms and bit painfully into your neck. “No please! I’m s-sorry!” You would cry, always regretting your action but never being able to stop yourself from denying his gifts when he offered them. And for the next part he would use his ability of compulsion to make you stop fighting. In his fury he wanted to hurt you a bit, but not TOO badly, and he enjoyed, for a moment, the fantasy that you were a willing participant. Most of the time he would then have you remove your clothing before sliding himself inside you, biting and kissing and sucking your neck as he did so, whispering how you were all his and about how much he loved you softly into your ear. Sometimes he would instead utilize your soft lips, jamming his hard cock down your throat, making you service him. The heat of your wet mouth combined with the sight of you looking up at him with his cock in your mouth was almost enough to make him blow his load immediately. You were just so beautiful. No matter the method that he chose it always ended the same. After his finished unloading into you his mind would clear and then be filled with rage as you were unable to reciprocate his love and enjoyment of the forced intimacy between the two of you. Jaime would angrily shove you aside, leaving you to clean yourself up, while he slammed the door to the bedroom and went to go make dinner. When it was ready of course he always found you laying where he left you, sobbing. Then he would, roughly, force you to your feet and drag you into the bathroom where he would run you a bath. This is where he would feel really guilty and suddenly turn soft. Every time. Gently shampooing your hair and cleaning your body, tenderly attending to the bites on your neck, happily babbling about how much he loves you and he knows you’ll love him eventually, you just need more time to adjust was all. Jaime would then clothe you himself and carry you down to dinner. You wouldn’t eat willingly, too catatonic by this point in the evening to do much of anything, but that was okay. Jaime was still in his sweet phase, all the anger having left earlier. He would feed you himself but compel you to swallow with his vampiric power, he always made your favorites. He had diligently learned to cook them perfectly for you over the years even though he otherwise did not enjoy cooking. After dinner he would always make an effort to spend some time with you, not getting angry when you were still, and when it was time for bed he would carry you up in his strong arms and lay you down as if you were made of the thinnest glass, a complete 180 to how he treated you when he first got off work. He would snuggle up to you from behind and hold you close, ending each night by telling you how much he loved you and saying he knew deep down you loved him back and one day you would be so happy with him. You hoped he was right, you hoped you could just be happy waking up in his arms, because if not this cycle of abuse juxtaposed to tenderness would never end.

[multiversediaries]

enough.

klaus mikaelson x reader

summary: caroline has always been the one everyone prefers and chooses over you. how dare you think klaus would be any different?

warnings: small angst!!!

part count: 2/2

a/n: hi! sorry it took me a while for me to write the second part, but i really hope you guys enjoy it!!! i loved the plot for this, but i truly had the biggest writers block on it, hence the long hiatus :3 but i’m officially back~ please enjoy and take care of me again in the future ^-^

part one

you hugged yourself, as you walked back home from the convenience store near your home. it was a chilly night. mystic falls has always been a cold city, but lately, for you, there hasn’t been a warm day. not ever since your break up with klaus mikaelson.

thinking of klaus was painful, as you remembered that night at the ball. the night you caught him lovingly staring into caroline’s eyes, and kissing her. you both ultimately broke up. well, you decided to call things off. you just couldn’t forgive his betrayal. he knew. caroline has always been a worry in your life. from past relationships to your career, everything was a competition and you always lost. klaus was no exception. it seemed klaus and caroline had actually became a couple after your break up. it was heartbreaking to say the least.

“y/n, please wait just a second. listen to me, dear.” klaus asked desperately, his eyes slowly but surely watering at the realization of what was happening. you held your suitcase close to you, your hand tightening around the handle, trying your hardest not to give in to klaus anymore.

“let me go.” you repeated once again, not daring to meet his eyes anymore.

“y/n, please.” klaus pleaded. “i’m sorry. i truly am. i never intended for this to happen.” he said, his hand trying to hold yours, but you pulled away again. apologies meant nothing. you had nothing else to say. you were done. your relationship was done.

“darling, please, just—” klaus pleaded yet again, his hands now laid on your soaked cheeks. the nickname tugging at your broken heart. a few tears left your eyes in pure anger and betrayal.

“no!” you raised your voice, your throat aching as you continued. “you kissed her!” you said, as you forcefully removed his hands from you. klaus stared, sorrow in his eyes, shaking his head.

“y/n—”

“do you love her?”

“what?” klaus asked, taken back by the sudden question. you wiped your teary eyes and spoke again.

“answer me. do you love her?” you asked once again, terrified of the answer. but needing the response.

“please..” klaus begged, not daring to respond. but you knew the answer. after all, who were you next to the caroline forbes?

you nodded in response, understanding. you weren’t her. you would never be as special as her. who were you to think you could be appreciated and loved? how naive. you sniffled, placing a few strands of your hair behind your ear, ready to walk out of his life for good. klaus looked for your eyes, worried about you, and about the hurt he has caused you. but you never met his eyes. you completely ignored his existence, and left.

you shivered gently, as warm air left your mouth. you held the grocery bag, that contained a few snacks, headache pills and a bottle of wine, to continue to drown your sorrows in. you were over him. you swore you were. but from time to time, you couldn’t help but hurt. you have never loved anyone the way you loved klaus. not matt nor tyler. no one ever came close, not that it mattered anymore.

the streets were empty, probably due to all the werewolves and vampire attacks in the city. this was no surprise to you, you were used to it. werewolves and vampires just didn’t scare you anymore. who would even try to lay a hand on you? you were klaus mikaelson’s ex girlfriend, and a close friend of the mikaelson family. the brothers and rebekah had been taking great care of you. they knew more than anybody what happened between you two, and understood your need for space. kol and elijah were very fond of you. rebekah believed they were in love with you, often joking about another love triangle. the mikaelson family has helped you so much through all of this. it has been a year. you healed, but you never wanted to see caroline or klaus ever again.

you pouted a bit, as you realized how quite far the store was from your place. you wanted to be home already. times like this is when you wished to be a vampire. the speed would really help you right now. you smirked at your dumb thoughts as you fixed your airpod, continuing your walk home. you took out your phone, wanting to skip a song, when you heard a familiar voice call out for you.

“y/n?” the voice asked, making you almost freeze in your tracks. please don’t let this be who you thought it was.

your eyes looked up from your phone screen and met his. your past lover’s eyes. the eyes of the man you so desperately loved, but you felt nothing but sadness for. you took a deep breath as you took a look at him. he looked good. healthy.

“it’s—” klaus started, before looking down at the watch in his wrist, his eyes full of worry and confusion. “it’s two am, love… why are you wandering around so late at night?” klaus asked gently, scared to anger you, or sadden you, but so worried about you.

it was very late already. it had been dangerous around town. he knew you were an easy target to hurt him. you were human, and had no protection around you. klaus lived in constant fear of waking up with the news of your death or kidnapping done by his many enemies. you tilted your head at his soft tone. you sighed softly, shrugging your shoulder.

“it’s alright. just needed something from the store down the road.” you replied, signaling at the plastic bag in your hand. he tilted his head in utter confusion, why wouldn’t you wait until morning? regardless he nodded slowly.

“i see…but why must you walk all alone at this time of night? it’s been dangerous lately.” klaus said, you furrowed your eyebrows and and looked up at him. he sounded so genuinely worried and you couldn’t understand why.

“why do you care, niklaus?” you asked, your tone tired. klaus looked into your kind eyes, and felt a rush of sadness wash over him, as he remembered his time with you.

the truth is… caroline wasn’t you. she really wasn’t, and klaus despised it. caroline was kind, but not as kind and selfless as you. she was loving, but he didn’t feel as alive with her as he did with you. she could offer him eternity, but he realized he would prefer spending a limited lifespan by your side. it wasn’t that you were caroline, it was that caroline just wasn’t you.

“i just— you do know i care so deeply about you, right? i just wanted to check up on you.” klaus half lied, he just missed you. he missed you like crazy and it was eating him alive. the big, bad original vampire was nothing with you. you chucked under your breath, not wanting to offer him a reply to his cheap excuse.

“let me walk you home, won’t you?” klaus continued, real concern in his voice, and you heard it. you bit your lip, hesitating.

“i beg. i just want to be certain that you got home safe and sound.” klaus said softly, as you started fidgeting with your hands. you sighed, nodding your head after a few minutes of hesitating. he seemed so genuinely worried, a little company wouldn’t hurt anyone after all.

it was silent most of the time. you wanted to ask. how everything was with caroline, but why would you want to hurt yourself even more? why would you care? so you didn’t ask. and wouldn’t even talk if he didn’t start a conversation first. klaus could feel his heart breaking as the silence broke out yet again. you always had something to say, something to tell him, but now you were dead silent. it pained him.

“i miss you.” klaus finally confessed, your heart stopping at his sudden words. for the first time, you looked at him, in utter shock. but klaus continued looking upfront, terrified to meet your expression. after a few minutes of thinking, you spoke up.

“you don’t get to do that.” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear. he nodded in agreement, biting his red lips. you were right. he has no right to even miss you at all. he was the one who caused this.

“i acknowledge that, believe me.” klaus said, a sigh leaving his lips mid sentence. you could sense the honesty in his voice. “i just wanted to tell you.” you nodded, your eyes now locked towards the floor you both walked on.

“caroline…” klaus continued, the mention of her name felt like a knife to the chest. you swallowed your hurt and continued to listen to klaus mikaelson pour his heart out for you. “she’s lovely. she’s sweet, delightful and kind…” klaus said, every one of his words deepening your wound.

“but she’s just not… you.” klaus said, stopping his walking and turning to face you. “i realized how big of a mistake i made. i knew of your past with her, and i still did it, and i want to apologize.” klaus spoke, as you listened.

“in this past year, i have done nothing but miss and love you.” klaus confessed and you felt your skin turn pale. “you are the one made for me, y/n. and i was incredibly foolish for even doubting it.”

“klaus..”

“please— let me finish.” klaus begged, his strong, big hands reaching over to hold yours. “she’s not you. she is just not the woman i am so desperately in love with. she is absolutely no one and nothing next to you. and i feel so miserable for adding onto your pain, and self doubt.” klaus continued.

“klaus—” you tried saying once again, only to be interrupted.

“i was wrong.” klaus whispered softly, his right hand now resting on your soft cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. “my biggest mistake to day is hurting you.” klaus confessed, his eyes slowly watering, to your surprise. you heart was being shaken by his broken expression, the way his eyes were filled with pure regret and sadness, and how his mouth frowned at you. it took everything in you to not wrap your arms around him and console who used to be your gentle hybrid. after a while of staring into each other’s eyes, klaus spoke up again.

“would you please give me another chance to redeem myself? let me make this right, my love, please.” klaus finished, his eyes full of sincerity. the nickname he used to always endearingly call you taking your breath away instantly.

you stood in the middle of the street, with the man of your life holding you, and pleading to have you back. you bit your lip, holding back the tears that threatened to run down your cheeks. he wanted you back? he realized he was wrong? he regrets everything? you don’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry.

you wanted to give in, and be his again. you adored him. you were sure he was the love of your life. but could you even trust him anymore? after everything he put you through? after all the turmoil, heartbreak and self distrust you felt for yourself? he was part of the cause of your low self-esteem, and lack of self confidence. the person who used to be the main reason for your confidence and self love, was now the reason of your infinite sadness and self loathing.

“i can’t…” you started, your hands rushing over to remove his from your body. klaus looked at you, shocked by your actions. “i won’t go back to you, klaus.” you replied gently. even if he broke your heart into a million pieces, you wouldn’t want to hurt him. he mattered to you. the only way you were going to hurt him was by not going back to him, and letting caroline have him. that would be your revenge for everything she has put you through. letting her believe the man she wanted most loved her, when in fact, he adored you.

“darling…”

“no, niklaus.” you said gently, shaking your head. “you and caroline are perfect for each other, can’t you see?” you said, his heart tightening at your words.

“you’ve hurt me enough. how sure can i be that you won’t change your mind like you did before?” you asked, and klaus shook his head, refusing. his hands ran to your cheeks again, his forehead now resting in yours, eyes closed as he begged you. klaus mikaelson was begging you. a mere human.

“i will never. i will never commit the same mistake as before, my beloved.” klaus whispered to you, his voice breaking. you fought your tears, breaking the contact between you two.

“and what if you do? what if this happens again? i won’t put myself through this again, klaus. i deserve better.” you said, finally putting yourself first. you mattered, before anyone else. even before the man you loved.

“i just can’t find it in me to trust you again.” you said, taking a few steps back, ready to continue walking home, and leave all this behind. you wanted to start over and regain the love you once had for yourself. klaus stared at you, as tears now ran down his cheek. it took everything in you to not kiss him and forgive him in that instant.

“then please.” klaus spoke again, raising his voice, so you could hear as you walked away from him. “please keep your heart open for me.” klaus spoke for the last time, desperation in his voice. a smile creeped up in your lips, as you continued walking him.

—

taglist <3

@filternini @mjpark15 @regulus-black-223048 @vickymendes30 @angelinevalentine89 @arcticseasemeseeds @jorjakal1905 @xoxo-shy @kissforvoid @kindaslightlyacidic @wrxting

[tudorscrown]

last kiss | spencer reid

spencer reid x bau!fem!reader warnings: angst ig? heartbreak, mention of a breakup, fluff, y/n is mentioned!!! navigation | cm masterlist word count: 1052 words inspired by last kiss by taylor swift

i love how you walk with your hands in your pockets

You and Spencer were walking down the streets of D.C.. It was a cold night and you were returning back to your shared apartment from a Russian Film Festival that he always craved about.

"I loved the accuracy from the film! All the characters were played very well, except for Svidrigailov. I don't think Dostoevsky wanted him to be portrayed as sympathetic as he was played. He wasn't as nearly as gallant in the book--" Spencer looked at you and saw you shiver. "Y/N are you cold?"

Looking over at your humble boyfriend, you saw the worry in his eyes and quickly shook your head. "It's like sixty degrees out, Spence. I'm not cold." But despite your reassurances, your body betrayed you as goosebumps were very apparent on your arms and you involuntarily shivered.

"Here." Spencer said, shaking off his coat and handing it to you. You shook your head but Spencer only held it out more until you begrudgingly took it, slipping it over your shoulders, letting the warmth from Spencer engulf your being.

"Thanks." You said softly, your cheeks pinkening slightly. Spencer gave a tight lipped smile, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Despite the fact that you two were already dating, butterflies still erupted in your stomach every time Spencer was around you.

how you'd kiss me when i was in the middle of saying something

The first time Spencer kissed you was memorable for both of you, especially Spencer considering he has an eidetic memory.

"Do you ever think that if we weren't in the FBI, we wouldn't have to go through things like this?" You said, sitting on Spencer's hospital bed as he laid upright with a large bandage on his neck. He had gotten shot in the neck during a shootout with an Unsub and almost died if it weren't for Alex, who was next to him and got him to cover and aided him.

"Y/N..." He said but you cut him off, rambling.

"You got hit in the neck, Spence! A stupid bullet proof vest doesn't cover the neck! It barely does anything to the torso, I mean, Derek has welts for days--days!"

"Y/N--"

"No, you need to listen! You're smart enough to get an amazing job somewhere like CalTech or MIT, hell, even Harvard! You can't spread your knowledge if you're dead, Spence. I--" But that time it had been Spencer who had cut you off. He silenced you by bringing his hands up to cup your face and lean in.

You were taken completely by surprise as Spencer's lips molded to yours like puzzle pieces. Closing your eyes, you leant into his grip as he pulled away.

Spencer wouldn't meet your eyes--couldn't. He had a furious blush dusting his cheeks as he noticed the different fibers in the cotton blanket wrapped around his legs.

"Spence..." You said, lips parting in shock at the fact that your sweet, loveable, goofy, geeky best friend just kissed you!

But he took your shock for something else. "I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that.." He said shyly.

You had no words and only brought your lips to his. This time, he was taken aback but came to his senses and kissed you back.

there's not a day i don't miss those rude interruptions

and i'll go sit on the floor wearing your clothes

Now you sat on your bathroom floor, leaning against the wall in one of Spencer's old CalTech shirts. Your eyes were red and cheeks were puffy and tear-stained. You sat, thinking about the memories that you and Spencer shared, some in that very bathroom... your bedroom... kitchen... on sidewalks and watching Doctor Who movies (that you didn't quite understand) on the couch.

A ding from your cellphone lifted you from your daydream. It was Penelope.

your name, forever the name on my lips

You wanted to say his name. You wanted to be able to sit next to him on the jet and listen to him ramble about Dante or the Bronte sisters but you couldn't, not like how you used to.

You wanted to be able to lean against his desk and talk about profiles and try to figure out who was behind what, but you couldn't. Not anymore. You couldn't even look at the new arrangement of photos on his desk. He had a new life to look at now that you weren't there. Sometimes, you would occasionally pass his desk and see his life in pictures, remembering when you would watch him sleep and see how peaceful he looked. Now another girl will be able to do that.

He has another girl to recreate your memories. You wonder if he's forgotten you already.

and i'll keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are

and i hope the sun shines and it's a beautiful day

Spencer got up early today. He was supposed to meet Max at the park so they could talk. Too bad it was such a beautiful day for such a sad topic of conversation.

and something reminds you: you wish you had stayed

He glanced around his room. When you and Spencer first moved in together, it was in your apartment and he had rented his out. It felt strange to him, living with someone else in an unfamiliar place but he settled into it. Now, he had to settle back into being alone. You weren't there in his bed, snuggling into his side, groaning about how early it was. You weren't there to listen to him rant about the inaccuracies to several Sci-Fi shows. You weren't there.

But Max was.