#she is the one person he will put before himself and he hates that because he thinks it makes him weak and vulnerable

[rexhya]

bakusquad as real life hs tropes (pt.2) — ✦ ✦

incl — katsuki, eijirou, kaminari, hanta, mina

warn — same as before, basically a detailed version of last one, NOT BETA READ,

freshman year —

first semester katsuki and eijirou quite literally had a single class together, (apc) eijirou was visibly devastated, katsuki was subtly upset. other than lunch they were brutally starved of each others affection ( amplifying katsuki's already insaney grumpy personality )

this is also when mina and kat get really close and kat gets really protective, he gets into a fight with his guy mina used to talk to, he's suspended for like 3 days and was totally worth bc the guy peed himself

denki and company doesn't get why katsuki had to fight him untill he sees the messages between the two ( and now they want to jump him but mina insists on leaving him be )

eijirou also gets his first girlfriend during this time unsurprisingly he's completely head over heels and they practically never see him because of it, denki and sero think shes cute, mina and katsuki fucking hate the bitch, not only because she takes up 100% of his time but because she hates them as well

the girl ended up cheating on him ( we told you so !) and mina finally has a reason to smack the living daylights outta her ( per kirishimas request ) bakugou records and hypes her up. ( the girl was a little bigger but mina had that second round )

this is when denki first decides to try the gateway to all drugs, marjuana and man was that a life changing experience for him. tells sero about it first, tells him not to tell anyone else cus he knows they'll be disappointed in him ( bakugou )

sero ( who loves him dearly ) agrees and pretends to get a crazy high when he tries it himself ( it's really not shit he just wants to like what denks likes bc he likes him )

second semester comes around and all except mina have lunch together ( she usually skips to eat with them anyways ) this is when their popularity really starts picking up, bakugou and kirishima made varsity as freshmen, mina randomly blew up on social media, denki and sero are now friends with the entire school, it was a good era for them.

rumors go around and eventually the 3 of them find out denki's been smoking himself away ( bakugou was beefing w/ shinsou, there was a strange topic switch ) and denki shrugs ( nervously ) under the crimson red gaze.

katsuki is more mad at the fact sero knew before he did ( only he can have favorites ) he asks if they should do it together as a group ( their table erupts in a roar so loud to this day none of the cafeteria knew what happened) and of course they all agree

denki is radiating with pleasure that whole day ( who knew the pomeranian could be so accepting )

sunset, mc donalds parking lot they all smoke for the first time together. bakugou has a coughing fit and questions how he can ingest stuff like that, denki shrugs again, seros head on his lap. all it does is make him sleepy and slightly giggly, mina is far from chillaxed, she and bakugo are laughing their asses of at fucking nothing ( mostly bc mina is 10x more hyper right now, ans bakugou just thinks its the funniest thing in the world )

eijirou decided to be their DD ( in reality he was to pussy to actually try anything but didn't wanna be left out ) and takes the four of them home ( per his older brother, thank you akane kirishima )

eijirou is asleep in the car, mina and bakugou in the backseat ( holding hands ? ) when it's bakugou's stop, mina gives him a hug ( his heart is beating so fast, but it's mostly the weed ) and they just stare at each other for like 3 seconds too long, lean in—

akane honks his horn "get outta here you rascals."

they never talk about it again ( lol )

sophomore year —

first semester denki struggles with depression and a really bad porn addiction ( so bad he asked sero if they should wank one together #akward ! )

his mom puts him on anti-depressants but they take forever to kick in so he stops taking them, tries harder stuff this time ( bad idea ) temporarily relieves his pain.

kirishima battles with his sexuality, up untill this point he had only dated girls and had been that way his entire life, so when looks at ojiro and continues looking at ojiro and eventually can't stop thinking about ojiro he doesnt know what to do

mina is suspicious ( she's bi but doesn't wanna label him for him )

instead of adressing the problem he dates hakegure instead, and breaks her heart a week later when he says he just lost interest. ( hoe era..? )

hanta joins track and is good at it, he also picks up the bass and begins finding hobbies outside of denki, he doesn't tell anyone this but at the time he used to hate being with kami despite how well they got along together

katsuki, hanta and eijirou get closer, their schedules are similar bc of sports ( fb is year round, track is during spring ) and they usually stop by minas job after practice just to bully her and get some food

hanta meets eijirou's family for the first time and it's like meeting all the different versions of kirishima. mina's social media stuff takes off, begins an obsession with being an actor

kami is seperated from them alot, they all miss him but are busy w/ their own lives. kirishima comes to check on him once and thats when he realizes something might be wrong

second semester is here and with it the worst sophomore slump anyone has ever seen, kaminiari has over 100 absences by this point, kirishima is drastically falling behind katsuki and the others, sero is practically dead and mina is to drained to do anything about it.

mina begins hanging out with other ppl now, jirou and tsu are good company, different from the familiarity of her regulars but refreshing in a way.

as a way to repell the the depression mina has the bright idea of throwing a party at her house, chaos ensues.

bakugou shows up first, he feels awkward cus he came on time so it's him and like 3 other people he's never seen before lounging in minas family room while she gets ready

he cant take fake scrolling on his phone any longer and decides to intrude on minas grwm which she was mad about at first but the video blows up ( katsuki's baby fat is practically shredded from fb and growth spurts ) which she now uses as a secret weapon when veiws are low. ( he has no social media besides the one instagram page he uses strictly for football & career opportunities )

he's been in minas house before, he likes the way her room smells, he stays there even when the party gets going.

kirishima comes dragging bakugou out of her room to play spin the bottle to which katsuki has his first kiss ( that he tells no one is his first, but his friends know probably is )

kirishima's spin landed on shinsou but they game was interrupted by a very loud and very obnoxious denki that entered the room, sero not far behind him.

the game never got finished but that wasn't stopping hitoshi they made out in the backyard soon afterwards, kirishimas heart felt like it was near explosion.

denki get's very very high and sero babysits him th whole night, the party gets shut down early bc of noise complaints.

kirshima's mind is whirling at the thought of what he did, he knows his friends would accept him and most of his family too, but would he accept himself?

sero thinks he might die of boredom, all denki does now is smoke. ( or eants to do now ) his performance across all boards of frienship are zeros.

junior year —

this was the year that made them say they hated and i mean hated highschool

kirishima finds out at the beginning of the year he's moving, really far, and it completely crushes his soul. ( his fomo is already bad enough now this? )

mina feels like she hasn't lived up to the standard s she set for herself, she's 16 ans still a virgin, how could that be?

she throws another party, this time smaller, in her room, girls only.

tsu invites ochako, says they would get along ( they did not get along. their interests and hobbies and vibes are polar opposite, yikes ! ) she ignores her for most of the night but the others do most of the talking anyway.

uraraka finally brings up something interesting, todoroki, super hot and close friend of hers is the same year as them and mina is just dying to be held

she takes her chances and they awkwardly avoid each other like a week after ( mina said he was great, shouto had thought she meant it in a way where she would date him, this was not the case. )

bakugou defends her with his life, says they're a bunch of pissy faced babies, ( cough cough, deku )

mina agrees and they move on from the topic forever

bakugou has a bad practice one day, ( completely shredded his acl ) and is done with the season ( and possibly his career )

kirishima is the only one allowed to visit him in the hospital ( he feels pathetic shhhhh )

mina feels horrible about everything and as a last get together she decides to throw a Christmas party ( just the 5 of them, hot cocoa and movies style )

denki and sero are running late ( more than usual ) and they won't answer their phones either

3 hours into the night sero callls them and tells them denki tried to kill himself ( there were letters for all of them, )

when they get to the hospital sero tells them he should have known, bc denki had tried this before. b

bakugou is livid, this is more than just petty secrets they kept from their friends. eijirou ends up holding him back while sero just sobs, mina feels like all of this is her fault

right before second semester, kirishima makes the big move. denki is more embarrassed then anything that they wanted to see him, he shut them out completely and so kirishima boards his train and is gone

the 4 of them dont habg out anymore, i mean eijirou calls katsuki every other night, and mina still comes by, but hanta and kami are on there own, it's may by the time any of them wants to even look at each other

one day bakugou is at the grocery store and because of how violently constipated he is and hiw horrible everythings been for him he fucking shatters deku's jaw

he ran out of the store before anything could be done he hides from his parents and doesn't come out of his room for three days, but izuku didn't tell anyone either, not the truth at least.

he returns to school as normal wondering pathetically why things couldn't just go back to how they were before

it's almost the end of the year when denki finally begins talking to the rest of them, bakugou despite not being able to show it is relived beyond measure

mina stopped throwing all thoes parties, she doesn't plan on starting again, says she needs to focus on herself ( and she does, tsu feels abandoned but mina feels free )

denki eventually returns to school, and to them. ( wow he's so quiet now, his humor comes in bits an pieces )

during the while when he was gone sero and denki's relationship changed ( not necessarily in a bad way ) which denki frankly is thankful for

the last day of school the all hand out at the skate park! mina brings snacks and denki brings boards.

denki hasn't touched anything drug related in a while

kirishima moves back over summer! he has a new friend, ( you, to which they can't tell if they like or not, considering all the trauma, should they rrally let another person into there circle? into there lives? )

eijirou seems to like you though ( especially looking at you )

you don't try and intrude though, you can tell they've been an established friend group for a while ( you grow on them, katsuki it's the last to warm up, he's even more cautious about everything after denki )

mina likes you too, she'e always inviting you everywhere but you can't be bothered with all the activities she had going on ( much to their disappointment )

katsuki likes looking at you too ( lol )

senior year —

everything feels nostalgic and scary but also exciting, it's their last year of high school, better make that count!

you're sitting with the 5 of them at minas house one day, unexpectedly they begin interrogating you about, well, yourself.

you shrug when they ask you about your type ( it hardly matters to you ), blush when they ask you if you'd had your first kiss ( you have, as awkward as it was ) and practically cry when mina shouts you're not a virgin ( who was you're first, they wonder )

the plans for adulthood life got closer and closer as the year came to an end, bakugou asks you to prom!

you say yes, you even go matching. ( mina helps you remember to finish your transition also )

bakugou realizes his passion for anything doesnt always have to go towards something sprta related ( or fb related )

they cry when they graduate ( yes, eveb bakugou )

they visit each other as frequently as possible, and the more things seems to change about them the more they stayed the same, it's equally jarring as it is admirable.

++ bonus !!

during freshman year bakugo had braces ( his rabid animal acuasations only got worse )

kirishima actually enjoyed smoking with his friends more than he thought ( even though he never did it again )

bakugou made up with izuku not long after he injured himself ( is deku's part )

mina used to dye her hair all kinds of fun colors

she helped kirishima dye is hair red

sero's hair used to reach his shoulders back in middle school

[dantes-jacket]

All the little things

Dante x fem reader

Author notes: Dante loves all the little things you do for him so he writes them down so he will always remember them. You then find his writings and read them. Pure flufffff, I really have a soft spot for soft Dante <33 I also had an idea of a part two and kinda mentioned the idea in this so lmk if you want it !!

Dante has never met a more attentive person than you. Even before you two started dating, he saw that no matter what you were doing you were always doing it with the utmost care and attention. You have a kind heart and it shows easily.

When you two started dating you got even more attentive or maybe he’s just realizing it. He always was a little slow to catch onto things, he didn’t even know you liked him for a long time before you two got together. He hates himself for making you wait so long but at least he has you now and that’s all the matter to him.

But Dante swears you’re out to make his heart explode, in a good way. He started writing down all the awesome things you do for him so he won’t forget anything. He keeps the little notebook hidden on the top shelf in his closest so you won’t be able to find it. Or well he hoped you didn’t find it.

You were cleaning his room because it really became so dirty and you don’t know how. He was on a mission for the past few weeks and you swear you’ve been cleaning so how did it get so bad? You started with trying to sort through the laundry, after you realized how that was going to be you decided to sort through his closest.

You start with what you can reach first. You throw out any clothes stained with demon blood, have too many holes, or just aren’t fit or anyone to wear anymore. You then make a pile for donations because there’s stuff that is literally covered in dust or still have tags on it. You know he won’t wear them because he wears the same three things.

Once you’re done with the stuff you can reach you grab a little stool and stand on it to clean the top shelf. You pull down a couple of clothes then see a random notebook lying up there. Maybe it’s something from his mom? You’re a little nosy and want to take a quick peek.

You grab the notebook and sit down on the stool. You open the first page to see neatly written handwriting saying “All the little things.” The handwriting looks like Dante’s but normally his is pretty messy because he doesn’t care and puts no effort into whatever he’s writing.

You flip the next page to see a well written paragraph with the date on it. You recognize the date because it was you two when on your first date together. You see he’s talking about you, so you sit back and read.

Today we went on our first date but man I was so nervous. We didn’t see each other for a while because of me being so busy demon hunting. But she never held it against me. She waited and I really appreciate it.

We met at the restaurant because she was coming from work and when I saw her, my heart couldn’t stop racing. I was so nervous. I wanted to make this perfect and not ruin anything. So my smart self thought that yapping the ENTIRE time would help.

It didn’t help my nerves at all because after I realized I was the only one talking and not letting her say anything or talk about herself I felt awful. I was so stressed that she’d think I was annoying and selfish. I brought that up and apologized and all she said was, “Why apologize? You’re a great story teller and I love hearing all I can about you. I want to know more about you Dante. So keep talking. Don’t ever feel bad for talking about something that excites you or something you find funny. Even if it’s sad, I’ll comfort you. Just know I’ll always listen.”

She said that with so much love and kindness. The rest of night when I’d talk her eyes would shine. Even the biggest diamond wouldn’t hold a candle to how much she was shining with each story I was telling. She made all the stress leave my body and was a safe space I didn’t even realize she created. I couldn’t help but falling for her even more then. This may have happened early into our relationship but it’ll be one of the moments that stick with me the most.

You feel your face heat up and your stomach fill with butterflies. You never knew how nervous he was, he never showed it. You thought you were the only nervous one. But now knowing you helped him so much without even having a little bit of an idea makes you happy.

You can’t help yourself so you turn to the next page to see what he wrote. You look at the date and it doesn’t jump out to you. So you wonder what it could be.

This beautiful girl only proves to blow my mind each and every day. She pays attention so much and it’s crazy. Well not in a bad way obviously but a way you didn’t think was possible.

So if we spend the night with each other it’s normally always at Devil May Cry because of my schedule. But I know she loves to host and cook a meal in her own place so I try to spend the nights I can at her place.

The first time I ever spent the night I kinda forgot to bring all my shower stuff. Man I was so mad and embarrassed. She noticed my annoyance with myself and asked what’s wrong. I explained it to her and all she did was grab my hand and drag me to the bathroom. In there she pulled out a basket under the sink filled with all the stuff I use. All I could do I stare at the basket.

She noticed my quietness and started quietly apologizing and explaining. “I’m sorry if this is weird. I just noticed all the products you used when I spend the night so I wrote them down. I know you are trying to spent more nights here so I wanted to make sure you were comfortable and if you ever forgot something you wouldn’t have to worry or stress. But again I’m really sorry if this is creepy or weird.”

I never even realized she took note of everything single thing I used. She put so much thought and effort into this. How could I ever think this is weird? It is so thoughtful and sweet. I did the only thing I could think of in the moment and kiss her.

We’ve kissed plenty of times but I tried to put so much gratitude behind it. I’ll never know if she felt that but I couldn’t help but thank her a million times. Her kind heart and beautiful mind always puts me first without a second hesitation. I hope I come off to her in the same way but I really do appreciate her more than anything. I am so happy she’s my girlfriend. We haven’t said it to each other yet but I really do love her.

Now you remember this. Again you didn’t know it meant so much to him. You’ve always known that he puts everyone before himself and tends to forget to take care of himself. All you wanted was to have a little safety net just in case he forgot. If he won’t look after himself, you always will.

But seeing he’s loved you since that moment and had those words on the tip of his tongue for a while makes you smile big. You’re on such a high reading these so you turn to the next page. This date again doesn’t stick out to you but you’re assuming most of these weren’t since this is about little things you’ve done.

Coming home was probably always my favorite part of the mission. I can get bored quite easily on missions especially if the demon is easy to kill. But ever since we got together, the best part is coming home to her. She basically has been living at Devil May Cry but I’ve been too much of a coward to ask her to move in.

For about four months into our relationship I didn’t have a long mission that kept me away longer than two or three days. But this time I was going to be gone for two weeks. She looked sad when I told her but she didn’t complain. She just said “I know you’re needed but please be safe and come back home.”

That gave me the biggest push to make sure I came back safe and in one piece. Normally with missions I didn’t care what happened because I always knew I could heal and I knew deep down no one was really worried about me. But now I had someone that did and I couldn’t bear the thought of her knowing something bad happened to me and I wouldn’t be coming home.

The mission was long and tiring. I was dragging myself back home. It was about two in the morning and I wasn’t expecting her to be up and at Devil May Cry. She normally stays at her apartment when I’m on a mission because she said it’s lonely there without me.

Once I finally got back I kicked open the door then locked it. I was greeted by her in the kitchen. We both froze when we saw each other not expecting to see each other in this moment. Then all I knew was she was in my arms holding me tightly. I asked her why she was up so late and what she was doing here.

“Well I was feeling lonely in my apartment. This place is nice because it reminds me of you and seeing all of your stuff makes me happy. But I was up because I was expecting you to be home later today so I wanted to get all the things ready to make you a sweet treat for when you got back. I taught myself how to make ice cream so I could make your sundae so I just finished making it and was putting it away.”

I hugged her tighter and didn’t stumble on my words when I asked her to move in. I know we haven’t been together for long but I need her with me. I need her in my home. I can’t have my home away from me and my physical home. She belongs here with me. When she hugged me tighter and said yes, I felt like everything in the world was right.

You smile brightly at his comment about how you’re his home and everything feels right when you’re around. You agree but obviously you think this with him in mind. He is your everything and the world hasn’t felt the same since you two got together because he is your world.

You look real quick to see how filled this notebook is. You run through the pages and see this whole thing is almost full. He’s done this without you knowing at all!? That’s crazy, you wonder when he does it.

You turn the page again and recognize this date. It was the date you two first said I love you to each other.

I’m lazy and everyone knows this. So with my laziness I don’t shave sometimes. I like my look with and without the stubble I grow. But sometimes the stubble bugs me and I just want it off. Of course the every time I went to do it today, something new came up that needed my attention.

By the time I finally had free time it was about eleven at night and I was tired. I took a quick shower but by the time I was done I really didn’t want to shave. When I got out of the shower she was standing there getting everything ready for me to shave. I told her I was too tired to do it and I’ll just let it grow.

She turned around and just simply told me, “Yeah I saw you were busy and now tired. I watched videos this afternoon about how to shave a beard so I could do it for you.”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the sink. I think I shocked her because I picked her up and placed her on the counter. I knew she’d have an easier time shaving if she could reach and see my face closer. She got everything ready then started preparing me.

She put shaving cream on me the grabbed my razor. She lightly took my face in her hands and slowly worked. She was nervous you could tell by the little shake in her hand but she really wanted to help so I didn’t have the heart to tell her to stop. Especially when she learned how to do this for me.

When she was all done she put my aftershave and moisturizer on and smiled all happily while saying, “All done!”

I looked in the mirror and see she did great. I leaned my forehead against hers and thanked her before kissing her. After I pulled away I couldn’t help but tell her I love her. I know, I had her move in before I told her I love her. But I just had to tell her now. I couldn’t keep my love for her hidden anymore. She had to know.

I could tell she was shocked but then she smiled even brighter than earlier and easily told me that she loved me. It made my heart race. I couldn’t believe this perfect girl loved me and she was all mine. I really am the luckiest guy in the world.

At this you start crying. He has written so many beautiful things down to always remember them. Dante never hesitates to write something in here. He really is the best boyfriend you could ask for. He isn’t the luckiest, you’re the luckiest. This really makes you want to show him your memory book you’ve made with you two.

You failed to hear your name getting called but you hear Dante come into the closet.

“There you are! I thought you took a nap without me. Hey what do you got there?”

You freeze at the sudden voice and slam the notebook. You turn to face him and he sees the tears running down your face. Dante quickly rushes over freaking out, “What happened!? Why are you crying?”

He looks you up and down then sees it. The notebook. His eyes widen then snap to meet yours.

“Uh, so um- you found it?” Dante stumbles out.

You just nod and wrap your arms around his neck holding him close. He doesn’t hesitate to return the embrace but you can tell he’s nervous. Does he think you won’t like it?

“Dante I know this was suppose to be a secret but it made me so happy while reading it. Knowing you hold moments like these so dear to your heart is such an incredible feeling. I’m so lucky I can call you my boyfriend. I love you so much.”

Dante grips you tighter and kisses your temple. “Every second I get to spend with you is a second I don’t want to forget. You mean the world to me and I’m happy this showed that to you. Sorry I never told you about it, I just really wanted to write these down. But I’m the lucky one, I get an incredible woman like you to call my girlfriend. I love you more than you know baby.”

You pull back from the hug and place the notebook on the floor. You place your hands on his cheeks and pull Dante into a kiss. You’re pulling a card from his notebook and try to put all your emotions into the kiss. Sometimes words are hard and actions can convey what you’re thinking way better than words ever could.

Dante seems to be doing the same thing. The kiss is soft with so much love behind it. It fills you with such warmth and comfort. It’s like being wrapped in a warm blanket.

You two separate and just look at each other. “Dante?” You call out to him. He hums to have you ask your question.

“Can you keep writing about these moments?”

He just smile, “Of course. I love all our little moments and will always keep them in my heart.”

[bagels-and-cream-cheese333]

*stumbles out of procreate covered in blood* here

ok. so. ROTTMNT find your wings au. It’s here.

Find your wings au (or fyw au)- human au in which the rise boys are separated at birth, but find eachother through struggle and heartbreak. Now they’ll stick together. Always.

RAPH’S BACKSTORY

Raegan (Raph’s deadname) lore under the cut-

(lots of trigger warnings, but mostly for non-joking transphobia, abusive parents, bullying, physical abuse, parents beating child up, friendship betrayals. hope that’s everything. Please tell me if there’s anything else I need to put a trigger warning on, thank you :))

When Raegan was a kid, he always knew something was different. It wasn’t exactly an “I’m a boy, not a girl, and I know it” sort of thing, but he did know something. He always felt a presence of another identity in the back of his mind, but never really thought about it, or wanted to, for that matter. Whenever he tried to talk about this to his parents, though, they ended up hitting him. Raegan was physically abused by his parents even when he wasn’t talking about the fact that being a girl felt off. He grew up hating himself because of that difference and because he was “obviously bad enough of a kid to where his parents hit him to shut him up”. He never had a stable, good friendship, because while he had a lot of people he was friendly with at school, no one was close with him to the point he felt like sharing something so personal, especially since he’d been shut out in the past. Eventually, when he folded and told his pretty much only close enough “friend” that he felt different from a girl, and maybe he might be a guy? he’s never really thought about it before.. that friend told everyone she knew and bullied him. It came to a point where he didn’t feel safe at school or home and dreaded every waking second of being alive. Eventually word about him not feeling like a girl made its way to Raegan’s parents, and while the physical abuse before was few and far between and never hurt him enough to where he needed hospital care or anything like that, they were absolutely LIVID when they found out. They hit him and abused him until he had a concussion, deep bruises, and a bleeding nose, and locked him in his room until he pleaded with them to let him out. However, they refused to do that until he “admitted” he was confused about being a guy. From that day on, he had to tell them he was their daughter every night if he didn’t want to get beaten like that again. He resented them and grew tired and angry and felt caged. One day, after he told them he was their daughter, he just broke. It was nothing in particular that was different, but he was so tired and angry and had to let it out somehow, so he trashed his room and made a plan to run away. The next night, he stole all the food he could, grabbed as much cash as he could find, stole their keys, and left in the dead of night. He landed on the ground and stole their car and drove out of state to NYC. He arrived in the morning and wondered what the fuck he was doing for a few moments before thinking about the life he left behind and hoped that this might be better. After all, it’s a fresh start, right? He changed his name from Raegan to Raph and cut his hair himself. Even though it looked pretty shitty, he preferred anything over the hair he had before. After a few months of being homeless and unable to rent a flat or apartment out due to landing the shittiest job on earth (cashier) and the job not paying enough (relatable), he meets Leo as a customer in the store. The second they meet eyes something just clicks between them, like they know they were supposed to be in this timeline, in this exact spot and time, and the world lined up to show them that this was supposed to happen. It was a little awkward for a second before Leo puts all his groceries on the counter for Raph to ring up and he does, kind of dazed/awkwardly. After that, when Leo is just about to leave, he pauses and turns around and writes down his phone number on a slip of paper as fast as he can and throws it to Raph. Raph catches it and slips it in his pocket. After work, since it was 2002, payphones were still around back then, and Raph called him on a payphone. Conversation is a little awkward, but soon they slip into a rhythm. Eventually it gets late and Raph has to get back home, so they agree to meet up at a park and talk. They make plans like that several times a week for a couple months afterwards, and grow a strong bond.

:)

little miscellaneous facts:

Raegan is 6’1.

Raegan is 17 years old.

Raegan lives in Vermont.

This is set in 2002.

Raegan does not have any immediate family outside of his parents.

Raegan is transmasc (obviously. if you haven’t picked up on that I’m a little scared for you) and aroace! This differs from my usual headcanon of straight raph (PUT AWAY THE GODDAMN PITCHFORKS.) but idk. In this au, he’s just.. different. I dunno. That means no shipping him with anyone in this, sorry man. I was playing around with bisexual fyw raph? But decided I don’t like that. So he’s gonna be like me fr.

Raegan has BPD and PTSD.

extra Raegan without his clothes (don’t make this weird guys.) bc I don’t give a fuck, I spent WAY too long on his body only to realize that logically he’d be wearing baggy clothes because of body dysphoria and then him looking less buff/chubby than intended.

anyway if this doesn’t blow up and people don’t like this au ill kms /hj

my askbox is open to requests/questions abt this au……. (Aka please please please ask stuff. I’m lonely I need people asking me stuff)

Find Your Wings AU Masterpost

[adriana-cosmere-journey]

Spoilers!! My thoughts on finishing Words of Radiance

DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED WORDS OF RADIANCE. EVERYTHING BELOW ARE SPOILERS.

I have so many things in my brain right now, but GOD this is such an excellent book. I guess I'll just word-vomit as my thoughts come up, so I may post a few more times later before my brain gets peace. I do need to make up for real-life responsibilities now that I'm done, so I guess I'll take two or three days before I return to the Cosmere.

ANYWAY.

So I began this morning with the Alethi force starting its march towards the center of the Shattered Plain. (Note to future self: once you reach the last 200 or so pages of the Stormlight books, you may not be able to put them down before finishing. Plan accordingly.)

Things on Kaladin's side were kinda depressing because Syl was still gone and he was healing like a normal person. But things of the Plains picked up quickly as Shallan revealed some of her powers to Dalinar. I LOVED this, first because I had feared Shallan would get sucked into everything while trying to hide herself, but also because Dalinar fucking needed this. A sign.

(Nothing surprising about Kaladin ultimately saving the day. Just eternal love for him.)

I loved how quickly leadership and planning started to fall on Shallan as the campaign advanced, and how quickly Dalinar trusted her. Seriously, the girl was suddenly responsible to get EVERYONE to safety, and the way it eventually panned out was so awesome. Ugh, I already want to re-read the last few chapters.

Randon thought: The Parshendi who escaped Eshonai, I guess they are still on the Plains and may become relevant later, right? Hopefully for something more than becoming Voidbringers.

Random thought 2: Rlain doesn't become a Voidbringer, RIGHT???

(I've spoiled myself enough to know he becomes friends with Renarin. Or something.)

I didn't see the Renarin plot twist coming, although I noticed something was up with him.

I am a little scared about Adolin, with everyone becoming a Radiant around him, but not him. Is it cliché to hope he also gets powers? But maybe his path is to be one that remains strong but doesn't have powers? I refuse to believe he just becomes a bad guy out of it. Like, I would absolutely hate a plot like that.

And to be honest, SADEAS HAD IT COMING AND YOU CANNOT CHANGE MY MIND. I would only hate it if that cockroach became like a 'start of a dark path' for Adolin or something like that. Pleaaase tell me that doesn't happen. Or at least not to a degree that would seriously compromise Adolin.

(But it wouldn't surprise me if Ialai became a new big foe instead. I can respect that.)

And speaking of gray characters.... ugh, I was expecting some big betrayal from Moash, but I actually feel bad for him now. Like, okay, he kinda punched Kaladin harder than he expected and would have probably kinda crippled or killed him if his powers hadn't returned, but Moash is now stuck in a situation that makes him feel so much guilt and embarrassment. Like, he was so proud of being part of Bridge Four and he really looked up to Kaladin.... I'm a little weary of what this plotline may bring. I hope he redeems himself.

Otherwise, I am glad we are changing the setting from the Shattered Plains to Urithiru. The tower-city sounds like such a cool concept. I really look forward to seeing the random lore details of how everyone makes it their home.

What else.... Oh! SHALLAN. Ugh, baby love Shallan. I am guessing Veil will indeed get more 'screen time' in the future, as we unravel all the secrets around that. I felt it was kinda obvious that she had killed her mother and her father had taken the blame, but I didn't know why. Now this opens a lot of new questions, like what Mraize meant when he said her family had always been involved in this? What are the Ghostbloods and what is their purpose? Are they the bad guys, or secretive creepy good guys?

It will be interesting to see Jasnah come back, that is for sure. I didn't believe for a minute she was actually dead. For now, I get an inkling that she may be surprised/uncomfortable at arriving at a reality where she is no longer the smartest and most mysterious person around. I mean, she's still super smart and mysterious, but now there are others who also hold their own...

Do we get to learn what she's been doing all this time?

And finally (for now), DALINAR. Ugh, you need to have some serious cojones to bound the frikin STORMFATHER as your spren. I loved that. For a second there I felt like Kaladin, like it had been too easy for him, but then I realized Dalinar has been working on this forever and he probably has healed himself many times over the years with stormlight. Like literally, if someone deserves this, it's Dalinar. So now I'm just happily curious about how all this manifests.

Ufff.... I'm sure I'll remember more things later, but for now this is enough. I need to go take care of responsibilities 😅😅 but my deadlines are on Thursday, so I should be able to make it, right?

Wish me luck! And do leave your (spoiler-free) comments! Feel free to be mysteriously ambiguous about things to come while avoiding actual spoilers 😙😉

[plainsviemenace]

"I'm hot all the time but no hotter than when I'm stuffing your pussy." He cocked his head thinking…and smiled. "You should deny me sex more often, punish me like i'm doing you, making my cock rock hard and no place to put it." He was happy to go along with whatever she wanted to do to him. They were playing games together and enjoying it. "Okay, I'll get my friends that I trained with at the academy and let them be our audience. They can watch me fuck you from behind and when I pin you in the ring. I don't care if they see my cock, we've showered in the same locker rooms but I'll make sure they can't see you naked. I'll just slid the material back or rip it off with my teeth before I fill you up. I'll make sure to take their cameras, nothing will be recorded. All they get to do is watch and cheer us on." He hated how her exes had all made her feel inadequate and not good enough to be someone's special one, the love of their life. She gave so much and they took it all and didn't give back but Max was giving her everything, being at her beck and all even, she was his person and he could see she was learning that especially with all of this. "You do love a bad boy that will fuck you up but I'll only do that in bed or if we're having public sex or I wasn't to tease you in public and then I promise it won't be too bad." He left it out there that he might touch her in in public but never to the point of embarrassment or humiliation. That was only for the bedroom.

He loved watching her suck his finger and took his time with her there, letting her relax and just enjoy it. "My baby is addicted to me fucking her with my big cock. I like torturing you but I admit that it's better when I can see your eyes, how they widen or show fear everso briefly. Daddy can make you so scared and begging him but that's another roleplay for another day." Letting her know that there was so much she hadn't experienced yet. Places he wanted to take her mind and body and let her explore them fully. Her moans filled the room and he danced in his head. "And I only want to be your daddy. No one else will touch me or take what you have. No one else turns me on but you, kitten." He reassured her hoping to heal some of her self doubts and past traumas. "I'm all yours and no one can have me but you." There was no need for anyone else in their relationship, they completed each other in every way. "I've ruined sex with anyone else for you. My slut, my whore, my slave, my wife." He put a deep emphasis on the word wife because she was though not legally but soon she would be. "Tug all you want, you can't get free unless daddy unties you and he's far from done with you. "Yes, you're daddy's sex slave and you live to please him in every way. Your body, your whole being belongs to me and mine belongs to you." Some might say this was manipulative, controlling, and it was in a way but it was the same for both. He was hers just as much as she was his. They were equals more than it looked to an outsider if they were looking in behind closed doors.

"Then you have to obey daddy, bad girls don't fucked, they get spanked and I know you like that but you like dick more and you want to please daddy and make sure he loves you forever." Maybe that was pulling on her insecurities but she did want him to love her forever. He saw her eyebrow raise and knew why because they had discussed it and how it couldn't happen because she didn't need the scandal. He was pushing every boundary that she had, that she told him couldn't happen and he was making it a reality. He worried all these tests could backfire like they had on Barry but Barry tested her with infidelity not once but twice. Max had never cheated on her or even looked at another woman. Anytime someone came on to him, he shut them down quick. He loved Sabrina and he knew her insecurities, knew of her father's mistakes just like Barry had know but Max could control himself, love meant something to him and he would never hurt her or make her cry. "Going to be my costar and do dirty things with me? We can watch this back anytime we want and fuck to it." He had waited so long to fuck her, it had been just as hard for him as it was for her but now they we getting to the end of the session and could enjoy each other's bodies. "That's it, scream for daddy." He had thought of gagging her but he liked hearing her moan, scream, beg and whimper too much. "Going to fuck you so hard, wreck this pussy because it's mine and it's needy." He was pounding her hard and making her take every inch of his shaft. Not once but twice they both came hard but it wasn't enough. They needed more and he was going to give her all she could handle. He was sure her pussy was battered and possibly torn by all the abuse it was taken but her moans and scrams drove him on. Even in his lust he saw how wide her eyes became as his fingers tightened on her neck. He was taking his time with it, easing on and off to let her get used to it. Don't stop, please. Three little words but they meant she was okay with it. "Not yet, you have to wait." Max moved his hands from her throat and kissed her passionately then pulled her legs up and drove in deep again, it was a position that he knew would let his seed go deep inside of her. Was he trying to purposely get her pregnant, one would think so with that position and how hard he was thrusting into her. Good thing she has an iud even though he hated it. "Soon baby. You can cum soon." He however began to cum inside of her filling her up and just holding her legs there to let it go in deep and not slide down. Slowly he pulled out of her and then untied he hands so she was free of restraint. He rubbed her wrists and kissed them before flipping her over on her back and pushing into her ass. True to his word he began to pound her ass hard and began to spank her, watching how red her skin became. Pulling out of her he thought for a moment before running his tongue along her puckered hole and licking it. There was no part of her that he wouldn't use to give her pleasure. Rolling her back onto her back he began to eat her out and finger fuck her ass. "Good girl, cum for daddy. You did so well. Daddy's gonna swallow every bit of your juices."

She smiled as he poked his bottom lip out, “you’re hot when you pout. Maybe I should deny you sex more often.” She teased. “It would be hot. All eyes on us, screaming for us while I’m screaming for you.” Sabrina shook her head, “No. I only want you to see me naked.” She dressed provocatively but she was always covered for the most part. She never wanted to have a nip slip or her even an underwear shot while she was on stage. She just enjoyed wearing short skirts and crop tops, she was young and she was going to do it until she could no longer get away with it. “I was worried mine were going to be too much for you, too. I thought I’d push you away with my overthinking that I wasn’t good enough by now.” That was always going to be in the back of her head. That he would get tired of her and end up leaving or worse, cheating on her because he found someone better than her. She rose an eyebrow, “I mean. I do have a type. And apparently it’s bad boys. The more badder the better, though.” She said, gesturing towards Max. She kept going towards the bad boys, and she wasn’t sure why they were cup of tea. But they seemed to get badder with his boyfriend she got. Max was certainly only bad when it came to the bedroom as of yet, though. 

The blonde let out a moan as he slid his fingers in her mouth. She let her mouth close around, sucking on them as he thrusted them. “I do. I wanna gag on your cock while I beg you to fuck me with it.” Sabrina nodded her head. “Sometimes you do scare me. But only because I don’t know what you have planned to torture me. It’s a good scare though. I want to be scared for you, daddy.” She knew fear could be exciting, she had never been this scared before in the bedroom. It was a new feeling she was trying to decide if she actually liked or not. So far she didn’t mind it. The way her body kept reacting to him, she knew it was all in the end about the pleasure for the both of them. She wasn’t scared that he was going to hurt or her kill her. Her heart wouldn’t slow down, but she was calm for the most part. She let out another quiet moan at the mentioned that no one else was going to be satisfy her after this night. She knew Max wasn’t wrong, if she liked this, she was gonna want this mixed into their normal love making. “I don’t want anyone else to satisfy me, especially like this. I only want to be your slut.” Her hands tugged at the ties as her arousal continued to grew. She knew she was already dripping for him. He didn’t even have to touch her to turn her on, his words always did it. “Am I your sex slave, daddy?” She questioned at the mention of her being his slave. And that’s what it felt like. She was his slave, to please and pleasure him however he wanted. “Just here to let you play with my body and to please you when requested? No one else’s slave I’d rather be.” 

Sabrina was glad that they did this on vacation so she could rest the next day. She wasn’t sure what her body was gonna feel like come morning and she was sure that it was all gonna be sore. She was pushing her body to a point that she wasn’t sure that it could handle everything that he was throwing out at her.  “No, please. I need to cum.” She begged, her back arching as he brought her to the edge of It. Her walls clenched around his fingers just as he removed them from her. She took a few calming breaths as her eyes followed him as he moved around the room. She rose an eyebrow as he grabbed his phone and started taking pictures of her, and then what she guessed was his hard cock. She smirked as he set the phone to the side and then mentioned making a movie. She made a mental note to remind him to keep all that under lock and key, but she was also curious about what she looked like in that moment. “Yes please, I need your cock.” She moved her legs as he got between them, one hooking around his hip as his cock finally made contact with her. She let out a long satisfied moan once he was fully in her. She knew it wasn’t going to take her long to hit her high, and the minute he told her she could cum, she let it out. Screaming as her walls clung to him, begging for more. She was thankful that she opted for the villa, originally she was torn between a hotel but now she could be as loud as she wanted to without worrying about someone hearing them. As she came down from her high, she lifted her hips. “Please. I want more. I need more.” Her voice and eyes pleading as she locked with his. “Oh my god. Yes, daddy. Pound my pussy. Claim it as yours.” She moaned as he started thrusting into her again.  She let out a soft gasp as his fingers tightened around her neck, her eyes widening as she came to the realization of what he was doing.. She knew she had talked to him about maybe wanting to try choking. But she had thought he’d run it past her beforehand. She had thought about it, wanting to erase the memory she had with Barry. And she wondered if that was his plan, show her how good choking could be when you were with the right partner. And he wasn’t completely cutting her air off, yet. She could trust him, she trusted him with sharp objects, things that could kill her with one small movement. Why couldn’t she trust him with something like this. He proved time and time again that he would stop if she wanted him to, she just had to say the one word that was currently dancing at the tip of her tongue. She moaned as he continued to thrust and squeeze her throat, her breathing getting shallower with each squeeze. “Don’t stop, please.” She moaned, her back arching as she felt her second climax inching closer. Her voice was turning more raspy and low than it was earlier. “Can I come again, daddy? Please.” She knew just because he told her once she could cum, that, that might not mean he wanted her to come again this soon. She was sure he was gonna edge her for as long as possible.  

[brionysea]

if stranger things 5 comes out and they're like 'omg! the upside down has been a product of someone's dark and twisted mind this whole time! it's... WILL!' I'll immediately lose interest

[godsofhumanity]

in keeping with the theme of the Norse gods and Greek gods having a swap, what about a marriage? Been fantasizing off and on about Loki x Hecate pairing ever since you did that dialogue about Loki needing a skull and Hecate having like 8 of them. What do you think that would be like? Esp since Hecate is technically an Anatolian goddess adopted by the Greeks???

hee hee that loki x hecate post is SO old,, ur a real one anon for remembering it. honestly, when i made that post i was just putting random people together in a chat post.

but, i sort of always thought that marital relationships between different pantheons would be forbidden? so like, you can't marry someone from a pantheon different to yours. but just for the shits and giggles, i think Loki x Hecate would be insane. im actually not sure that they would get along as husband and wife-- Hecate strikes me as very proper and orderly, and Loki is chaos personified. also, Loki is self-serving, so i feel like it would be a love-hate relationship, very much what i imagine Loki x Angrboda to be like.

the only Norse x Greek pairing i ever considered in my life was Freyja x Apollo. idk, i just like the aesthetics of it?

u say you've been fantasizing about Loki x Hecate so i'd love to hear ur thoughts? i don't really have any myself 😭

[sidras-tak]

Accessibility takes too goddamn fucking long.

My brother was paralyzed in October 2023. We got him home from the hospital (in Texas, when we live in Iowa) in a clunky old hospital chair. He hated it. He was scared and angry and in pain and his life had just changed forever and he couldn’t do anything for himself in that wheelchair. His first goal (aside from learning how to transfer) was to get a wheelchair. My family was lucky enough to afford one so we thought it would be easy enough. Nope.

We couldn’t buy him a wheelchair. He needed a prescription. For a wheelchair. A doctor had to examine him and declare him in need of a wheelchair. It wasn’t good enough that he had scans and tests showing tumors cutting off his spinal cord. He needed his primary care doctor to examine him during a physical and write a prescription. He was making 2-4 transfers a day, tops. He had no energy to get to a doctor. Home health was in and out every day. He had no time to get to a doctor. He didn’t get a prescription for almost a month. Then it had to go through insurance.

We asked if we could skip insurance and just buy a wheelchair for him. Nope. They wouldn’t sell us one, not even at full sticker price. It needed to be approved by Medicare. We ordered a wheelchair, a nice one, a good shade of green, sporty, small. It would let him move around the house. He would be able to cook, to reach drawers and get stuff from the fridge and brush his teeth and put his contacts in at a sink. We were told it would take awhile, maybe two months. Silently we all hoped he would be around to see two more months.

He went on hospice care on a Saturday in March. On Monday, I was calling his friends to come see him before he died. I got a call on his phone. It was the wheelchair company. They were about to order his wheelchair, she said, but there was an issue with insurance— had he stopped being covered by Medicare? Well, yes. When he started hospice care, he got kicked off Medicare. The very nice woman I talked to told me to call her if he resumed Medicare coverage so she could order his wheelchair. He died less than 12 hours later.

We ordered that chair for him in early December. Medicare didn’t approve the order until March. He was dead before they got around to it. He wanted that fucking wheelchair so badly. The only reason he had any semblance of independence and any quality of life for the last five months of his life was because the wheelchair company lent him an old beater chair, a very used model of the chair he ordered. If I could go back and change one thing about his end-of-life, I would get him his dream wheelchair. He told me again and again he couldn’t wait to get it, so that he could feel like a person again. He made the best of what he had with that old beater chair, but it still makes me mad to this day. He was paralyzed. He needed a chair that afforded him dignity. We had the money for it. And yet, we were left waiting for five months, for a chair that wouldn’t even get ordered until the day he died.

[lordofdestructionm]

Did anyone else feel like Jax was trying to reach out more to the others in this episode?

Before Gangle freaks him out a little with the threat of a punishment he is his usual jerk self

Then he tries to have a very casual and relaxed conversation with Zooble about the situation. No sarcasm and no mean comments.

He tries to downplay the earlier threat, and seems to want them to agree with him that Caine wouldn't actually do anything that bad

Of course Zooble out of everyone in the group has the least patience for Jax so he doesn't get any reassurance from them

Then just before Gangle send him off for his employee training/Clockwork orange torture session, he responds to Gangle's manic behaviour with the comment "I like you better when your sad"

That could just be him being mean and saying that he likes it better when she's like that because its easier to pick on her and stops her standing up to him

But considering he always goes out of his way to break the Comedy Mask at every opportunity, it could be that he simply prefers when she is her authentic self, and not putting on some fake act (a lesson gangle herself seems to learn at the end when she rips off the new mask and smiles despite wearing the Tragedy mask)

Plus look at his face when he's saying it. He isn't grinning or making any other mocking expression, he just looks tired

Then when has encounters drunk Ragatha he asks her if she can move, despite the fact that he could easily walk over her with those long legs, and he does exactly that a moment later. Was he being polite? Or was he asking her literally if she could still move her body in the state she was in?

Either way he get another little blow when the nicest person in the group says outright she hates him

Then he tries to do with Pomni what he attempted with Zooble earlier, have a relaxed casual conversation about things without any signs of sarcasm of mean teasing.

Pomni herself is even taken aback and doesn't know what to make of it, suspecting probably that he is trying to trick her in some way. Again Jax's previous mean behaviour is now a barrier stopping him from connecting with the others even when he actually wants to

He makes one last effort to pretend everything is normal and get back to his usual persona, but the second he is out the door and out of sight of everyone, the frustration and despair are clear

When Gooseworx said that people who want to see Jax "get worse" will "enjoy what they have planned", maybe they didn't mean he would get more evil, maybe they meant his mental health would start sinking as the bully/prankster persona he hides behind starts to break down

Maybe he is starting to realize how isolated he is making himself

[kitananami]

MDNI.

ExBf!Gojo, who would still pathetically send you your favorite flowers on your birthday. The card on this one read:

Happy birthday babyyy, I love youuu <3

On the front. You scoffed, turning it over.

Can you please talk to me?

On the back.

The same flowers that would be added into a glass stained antique vase normally holding every single bouquet Gojo gifted.

But these flowers were sent right back to him.

ExBf!Gojo, who reached for his phone after looking down at the mat outside of his apartment, seeing the same flowers he sent to you the day before.

"Aww did I choose the wrong flowers baby? /: "

ExBf!Gojo texted. Staring at his screen waiting for you to reply. Until the waiting turned into 3 days.

After 3 days you finally replied, but instead of on text, it was a box full of his shit, sent by a delivery truck. So he swallowed the prideful lump in his throat and grabbed his phone, realization settling in— he did fuck up bad this time.

"Y/n I'm sorry... Can we please talk?"

The last attempted text he sent before realizing he was blocked.

ExBf!Gojo, who already knew you rarely gave second chances to people. The woman of his dreams he spent three years with, the happiest three years of his lonely life, yet the same woman he could never get back. The one who he knew despised him and meant it when the second to last words she denounced was,

"It's over."

ExBf!Gojo, who stood at the hotel room door he booked two days before your birthday. The same man whose heart felt limp, seeing you cry for the first time in the three years you shared together, watching you pack your suitcase in pure anger. Because he knew it'd be the last time he saw you.

So he reached for you, grabbing your wrist gently, "Baby, i swear, it really isn't what it looked like—"

The last words he said to you in person before you cut him off, pulling your wrist away to swipe an angry tear falling down your cheek. The very last words of yours that hurt him because you called him Gojo instead of Satoru. And you didn't even look at him in his stupid blue eyes,

"Don't touch me. I never wanna see your fucking face again Gojo."

ExBf!Gojo, who was way too friendly. Who would flirt with any pretty girl in sight without even realizing it. It pissed you off at first, until he had you convinced he would never actually cheat on you. Not to mention the time you scolded him,

"Funny you think it's cute flirting with other girls. You're lucky Geto turned into an asshole. Otherwise I would've chose him over you. He's more loyal."

ExBf!Gojo was put in his place after that. And only flirted with his male colleagues moving forward

ExBf!Gojo still couldn't handle his alcohol like a childish teenager. Who finally pushed your limits after seeing him at the pool, pouring a shot of cheap tequila into a blond girl's mouth. Followed with her grabbing his face and kissing him on the lips. Then him pushing her off drunkly before he saw you storm away into the distance.

ExBf!Gojo, who started to go crazy after 6 months had passed. 6 months of convincing himself he would get you back. He was left with nothing else than the box you sent him back with his shit. Nanami even began forming a slight concern, because for the first time in his life, Gojo Satoru was quiet and didn't have an ego anymore.

"Why aren't you being annoying anymore?" He asked.

He responded in an emotionless shoulder shrug.

ExBf!Gojo, who started to hate himself even more for how he made you feel that day, for being the reason why he saw you cry for the first time. Because it was the same day today, but a year later. A year later since he saw you in person. A year since he heard the voice that made him so fucking happy every time he heard it. But the lack of presence had him chasing any last bit of hope, hope of feeling that happiness again. If he could hear you simply cussing him out again, just to hear your voice, he'd pay. He deserved it anyways. But even you didn't give him that energy or time. You were too mature. Something Gojo Satoru couldn't be.

ExBf!Gojo, hated the thought of you being with another man. Not because he was insecure, but because it was him you chose, nobody else. Even though every single man whose path you've crossed wanted you, you never made him feel like he was an option. He was your man, and you were obsessed with him. It was a healthy obsession because he knew you would drop him the moment you felt disrespected by him. And you did. You proved it.

ExBf!Gojo stood at your door, this time with your favorite flowers in his hands. But they were different this year, because it wasn't store bought, he picked it in a flower field he had to trespass. He knocked on your door and took a step back, gripping the stems of the flower he made you. In the midst of convincing himself he needed to stop being so emotional to calm down, attempting to grasp back his ego and snarky remarks, 2 minutes had passed. He knocked again.

ExBf!Gojo stood for another 10 minutes. Then started to feel too desperate. Like the weight of everything he regretted and lost spiraled into a deeper avalanche. He curved his neck back and sighed, looking at the roof of your porch as tears started to peek in the corner of his eyes.

"Y/n, please. Just let me talk to you. Even if it's one last time."

ExBf!Gojo Heard the echo of his sorrowful voice bounce off into the night of your birthday. He looked back down at the bouquet of flowers he held, taking note of the smallest details. And he began to talk to himself again.

"God no wonder why these were your favorite flowers. You always had good taste. Always knew what you wanted, except for picking the places for us to eat," he chuckled, the tears threatening to fall down his face.

"So beautiful.... you're so beautiful y/n.... I wish I could call you baby again, but I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable," he croaked out, tears streaming down his face this time.

"I don't care how stupid I look right now, I just realized you might not even be home," he scoffed, a smile forming on his face in delirium, he sniffed up his cries as the tears kept flowing, "I wish I had the opportunity to make you as happy as you made me... I didn't deserve you, but you deserved to be as happy as I was," He sobbed, starting to sound incoherent, jumbling his words.

"Fuck I miss you so much baby. I'm so sorry," he grit through his teeth, nodding his head in defeat, "I'm so sorry baby...I just don't know how to stop loving you."

ExBf!Gojo looked up to see the door slowly creak open. And he was right, you are beautiful. Too beautiful for his own good. Your eyes were tearing up regardless of how much you wanted to fight it. And you sighed.

"I hate you Satoru." You whispered.

ExBf!Gojo who didn't care that you hated him. Because at least you opened the door and said something to him. He held out the flowers,

"Happy birthday!!!" He said cheerfully with red eyes and tears still rolling down his cheeks.

You looked down at the flowers. Disorganized and messy. Like a boy made them. Because a boy did make them. A boy who every girl wanted in high school, and it disgusted you because how can you like someone like him. Until you guys reconnected during your college years. A boy who turned into a man somehow... who made sure to get you flowers every year of your birthday. A man you swore you would never fall in love with.

ExBf!Gojo who's ex girlfriend pulled him into her home after accepting the flowers and setting it by the door.

ExBf!Gojo who was sat down on the couch by his ex girlfriend as she connected her lips passionately with his, followed by aggression.

Gojo sighed into the kiss, snaking his hands all over your body to ensure this was real, that this was actually happening. That the bulge forming in his pants wasn't another pathetic wet dream he had of you.

ExBf!Gojo had his shirt lifted off of his chest, quickly assisting with your removal next. You gripped behind his hair, pulling his head backwards to the side before you began sucking his neck hungrily.

ExBf!Gojo exhaled, muscle memory kicking in, grabbing your tits and swirling the nubs of his thumb over your nipples, earning your moans that he missed so much. You sucked and kissed all the sensitive spots on his neck, marking him dark red till he exhaled,

"Mmmm baby...."

ExBf!Gojo switched places, plopping your back onto the couch as he ripped off your pants, reconnecting his lips with yours, then to your breasts, sucking feverishly. Your moans teased him, gripping his hair again. He traveled down to your core,

"I've been so fucking hungry..."

ExBf!Gojo licked the tip of his tongue down your slit, then scooped up every bit of wetness oozing down your core before ramming his tongue inside, working inside your cunt like he was getting paid overtime for it. You arched your back against the couch. His hand that wasn't wrapped around your thigh held your hand gently as you gripped hard every swipe and suck he made on your clit.

"Sa-toru... Baby- uahh," you said falling in and out of consciousness at how fucking good he ate you out.

ExBf!Gojo was going insane right now. But finally, in a good way. The best way possible. He ate you like the last supper, but he would make sure this isn't his last.

"Baby please fuck me..." you sighed, rolling your cunt desperately on his face as he reminded you of how pathetic every toy you purchased felt against your pussy, every one of your attempts to imagine times he ate you out so good, this good.

ExBf!Gojo who almost came at your breathless, desperate request, if it wasn't for him almost cumming in his pants from tasting your pussy again. The only pussy he's felt since you broke up with him. Because he knew after you, nobody could ever taste and feel as good as you.

ExBf!Gojo's arms had to be pulled up by y/n because he couldn't stop eating her pussy.

ExBf!Gojo had to hold in every urge to cum at the slightest touch of you. You sat up on the couch as he stood in front of your face, pulling down his Calvin Klein underwear, licking a strip of the precum oozing down his dick before sucking the sweetness out of him, stroking his shaft.

ExBf!Gojo who had to grab your hair and stop you before he came too quick.

"Wait Baby stoppp.... I'm gonna cum if you do that"

He didn't deserve to mess up that beautiful face of yours for his pleasure. He also really needed to be inside your pussy.

ExBf!Gojo who picked you up and carried you into your room. Laying you down aggressively yet gently, on your back. You both exchanged eye contact, yours looking into his in anticipation, and his looking into yours in pure love and euphoria. You fucking hated him, but somehow loved him too.

ExBf!Gojo lined himself up, not even needing to collect any wetness as he slid right into you slowly. He watched as your eyes closed and your mouth opened slowly into a soft moan. And he watched your beautiful face—every stroke, savoring every single one as the tightness and warmth of your pussy had him biting down hard on his lip, trying not to cum in under 20 seconds.

"Baby you're so fucking beautiful," he said before picking up his pace. You couldn't respond with any literate words.

"God I could never lose you again...." he groaned, pulling up your legs over his shoulder, he remembered every detail, every stroke, every position that drove you crazy and closer towards your climax.

You squealed out, tears forming at the brim of your eyes as he picked up his pace. You felt every inch and circumference of him, wondering how you could've ever left someone who always laid it down on you this good. Regardless of how much of a shitface he was. Your bedroom echoed with the sound of your wet pussy and his balls slapping against your cunt.

ExBf!Gojo who kissed your lips and looked at you once again, caressing your face and stroking the side of your face gently with his thumb as he kept a steady rhythm of his hips snapping against yours– slowly, pushing the back of your knees closer to the side of your body, inching into you deeper and deeper.

"The only time I could ever make you cry again is if I'm fucking you like this my love," he exhaled, "Taking me soo good..." he grinned menacingly, picking up his rhythm again, making a tear slide down your face as he felt your wetness building up, walls clenching dangerously tight around his cock,

"My good girl...."

"Please please.... yes Baby...." You managed to say. Both of your hands gripped his shoulders in an attempt to catch consciousness before you felt your peak, "I fucking love you Satoru...."

He rolled his eyes and head back, not being able to fully look at you at how hard your words hit. He kept the same rhythm, gliding into you, "I love you too baby... Fuck I can't hold it in are you gonna—"

He was interrupted by your screams and tears sliding down your cheek. You came down on him, milking his dick with your pussy. He felt so fucking good. And every bit of regret letting him in your house dissolved with your moans and cries.

"BabywherecanIcum?" He said uncontrollably fast, wiping your tears, nearly about to burst inside you.

And even after you came, every sensitive stroke felt like after shocks of more orgasms.

"Mmmm Satoru... cum insid—" you attempted to say, now this time interrupted by him stuffing his face in the crook of your neck. Beating every ounce of his cum into your pussy, his groans synchronized with your moaning and crying, filling you up with beads and lines of his warm cum.

"God I am never..." he popped his head back up, still slowly and lazily rolling his cock into you. He slid his hands slowly up against the blanket under you, intertwining his hands with yours, "losing you again."

_______

a/n- hi guys :P

[lvrclerc]

✶ 15 YEARS IN THE MAKING

summary: oscar's home race is a big deal. however, what's even bigger is the realization that he has been in love with the childhood friend waiting for him at the finish line since the day he met her. it only took him 15 years, a thousand missed opportunities and a so-called mistake to realize it.

F1 MASTERLIST | OP81 MASTERLIST

pairing: oscar piastri x childhood bff!f!reader

wc: 11.3k

cw: aus gp 2025, unaccurate aus gp 2024 for plot purpose, use of y/n, slightly inaccurate timeline, kinda bittersweet/angsty at some point, otherwise fluff + hea

note: need to cradle that man in my arms and kiss him on the forehead, special mention to @cntappen who wanted yearning oscar, hope ur satisfied 🙏 i lowkey hate this but we carry on

soundtrack: ♫ something, somehow, someday - role model

OSCAR ALMOST DROPS his mug when Hattie tells him the news. “She’s coming to the race?”

His sister nodded, shifting from one foot to the other like she didn’t quite know where to put herself ─ which was uncharacteristic of her ─ and the first things going through Oscar’s mind were Did she know? How would she know? Did she tell her? “I texted her about it ‘cause she always comes to Melbourne. I was just curious. She said she’d be coming if she was welcome with us.”

His head was spinning. Gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, Oscar chose his next words with calculated precision. “And you said…?”

“I mean, Mom said yes, obviously,” Hattie shrugged. “She loves Y/N. And she said it’s been a while since you two saw each other, might do you some good with stress and all that.”

Of course, his mom would say that. You had always been a second daughter for her, welcoming you in her home as if your place had always been next to Oscar on the living room couch. Hattie had been as enthusiastic as her, if a little confused at first, about who had developed such an attachment to her quiet, nonchalant brother. Ever since you and Oscar were children, as soon as he told his mother about the new girl next door who cut short his remote-controlled truck training on the playground, you had been included in every Piastri family dinner.

Because you were Oscar's whole world, his personal sun, the second you stepped into view ─ it would have taken someone mute, blind, and deaf not to notice it. He was just a planet, a satellite, orbiting around you in search of meaning.

Had been. Until almost a year ago.

And nobody knew except for him.

So Oscar swallowed down the lump in his throat.  “Okay, sure, that's cool,” he let out a breath. “I missed her.” The words pained him, as veracious as they were. He didn’t simply miss you like you’d miss someone you hadn’t seen in a while ─ Oscar missed you like an amputee would miss a ghost limb. The kind of pull that tears someone from the inside out, and he only had himself to blame for the ache.

If Hattie suspected something was off, she didn't say it. She chose to scrutinize him instead, eyebrows scrunched in a silent question he answered with a vague smile, as always. She spoke about how you hadn’t come to visit in quite some time, how he rarely updated them on how you were anymore, how you blossomed in your life, but the words went in one ear and out through the other.

Because you were going to the Melbourne Grand Prix, the start of the 2025 season. He didn’t know if he could handle seeing you again, not after the fiasco of the same Grand Prix, a year ago.

Guess he didn’t have much choice.

Oscar Piastri is eight when he meets you for the first time.

He was given his first remote-controlled truck for Christmas and ever since then, rare were the times he spent his full days at home. The playground, with a lot more ground than playthings for children, was a five-minute walk from his house ─ perfect for practicing, he thought. His newfound gadget made him develop a fervency he hadn’t known before, an obsession for speed. He knew Australia had championships for remote-controlled racing, his dad told him so. He wanted a part in it like he never wanted anything in the world before. Except maybe the truck.

But before he could hope of entering, he needed to get to a certain level and that meant practice. So to the playground (or park, park was a cooler word) he went.

Today wasn’t an exception. Vacations had started not so long ago, the sun was high in the sky and Oscar’s knees were raw from being dug in the gravel for so long. His thumbs were branded by the print of the remote in his hand, sweat beaded on his forehead, hair sticking to it, and maybe his vision was blurring a little. But Oscar was nothing if not determined, so he kept going as his truck narrowly avoided obstacles he put in place.

Until a water bottle replaced the self-made circuit in his visual field.

Oscar's eyes slowly trailed up in exasperation, expecting one of his younger sisters or his mother dotting on him, telling him to come back home. Instead, his breath caught a little.

You stood there, the afternoon sun casting a golden glow around you, turning the loose strands of your hair into something almost otherworldly. Oscar had never believed in angels ─ never really thought about them at all, actually ─ but at that moment he wondered if maybe, just maybe they existed. Your sundress, once pristine, was rusted with dirt, the hem brushing against your scraped knees, blood dried in uneven patches. But you didn’t seem to mind. Instead, you smiled ─ as if scuffed knees and torn dresses were just a natural part of being you.

His wide, brown eyes glided from the lukewarm bottle to you, in wonder and shock alike. Your palm was smudged in playground dust, but Oscar barely noticed ─ his gaze caught instead on the way light tangled in your hair, your eyes sparkling with something bright, untamed, unstoppable. You spoke up. “You look like you’re gonna faint. Take it. Drivers need water, right?”

Your voice, soft, shook him out of his trance: he hesitantly took the bottle from your hand, and your fingers brushed against his. Red colored the tip of his ears. He swallowed, hard, bringing the bottle to his chest. You offered him another smile in return, and Oscar felt his heart flutter.

“My name is Y/N.” Before he could even think about protesting ─ about telling you that, actually, he hadn’t asked ─ you plopped down beside him, legs folding underneath you like it was the most natural thing in the world. Your shoulder bumped against his, a casual, thoughtless kind of closeness that sent a foreign heat to the back of his neck.

Then just as he was processing that, you turned to face him- too close. Way too close.

Noses. Your noses nearly touched.

Oscar went rigid. Did you know nothing about personal space?!

You pointed behind him, at the house right next to his, visible from the park. “I live right here!”

“...No, you can’t.” Oscar finally said, frowning. He was trying to be as polite as he could muster to be in those conditions. His mom would kill him if he wasn't.

“Why?”

“Nobody lives here.”

The aggressive neutrality of his voice, a timbre unique to him, didn’t deter you in the slightest. On the contrary, it seemed like his reticence to your presence made you beam brighter at him. “That’s because we just moved here, duh. See that car? It’s my mom’s.”

The indifference in Oscar slowly turned to confusion, or as close as it could get to curiosity. There was indeed a baby blue car parked in the driveway he never saw before. For as long as he could remember, which was not a lot, it was always vacant. Until today, apparently. “Oh. We’re neighbors, then.”

Your smile widened, eyes practically shining in excitement. “That’s so cool! I was scared I was gonna be the only kid here.”

Oscar barely heard you, too busy staring at where your arm pressed against his. Was it normal? Were other kids just… this close of each other? Because he wasn’t used to it, not at all. “... How old are you?”

“Eight!” You practically bounced as you said it.

“Me too.”

Your face lit up. Oh no.

“That’s even better! We can be friends! Best friends, even!”

Wait, what.

Oscar blinked, his mind screeching to a halt. That escalated fast. Weren’t there supposed to be multiple steps before deciding to be lifelong friends? Had he missed something? “Uh─”

“What’s your name?” You asked with renewed enthusiasm if it was even possible to add to that.

“... Oscar. Oscar Piastri.”

“Nice to meet you Oscar Piastri from next door!” You held out your hand and, much to his surprise, Oscar took it. Hesitantly, awkwardly, yes, but he still did. The strange, unfamiliar feeling tugging at his stomach wouldn’t let him do otherwise. “I like your truck,” you continued, fingers still wrapped around his like you didn’t even notice. “Can I try it?”

Oscar was way too focused on your palm still sitting in his to process your words. Was he supposed to pull away first? “I… I don’t─”

“Or I could watch you! I don’t mind. I was watching you in the tree back there anyways.”

Oscar blinked. It explained the stains and the scratches, he thought. He still couldn’t believe that there was a whole girl like her in a tree, spying on him, and he had been so caught up by his remote-controlled truck to even notice it. Just as if you could read his thoughts, a sheepish look made its way to your face, lips pursuing as you finally ─ finally ─ let go of his hand. “Mom doesn’t like when I do that,” you admitted as if it were a secret. “But it’s fine. I can wash the dress.”

He stared. There was… something about you, Something about the way you sparkled even when you sat still, the way your presence felt bigger than your little body. He swallowed, nudging the controller toward you before he could regret his decision. “Try.” His voice came out weird. “It’s boring to watch.” 

The twinkling in your eyes was worth every crash that came after this. You were struggling, and hitting every obstacle he skillfully steered away from. Each and every hit was accompanied by a giggle or an exaggerated groan but even though you were terrible, as Oscar tactfully noticed, it still looked like you were having the most fun you had in years.

When he had to go home, you walked him to the door with a spring in your step, occupying the conversational space with random facts about the world. Something about how octopuses had three hearts, how clouds weren’t actually as soft as they looked, and how the color yellow made people happy. Oscar didn’t say much, he never really did, but he contentedly listened.

And then, just as the door swung open, before he could even process the way he wanted to stay a little bit longer, you turned to his mom with all the confidence of someone who had already decided the outcome. “Can Oscar come back tomorrow?” His mom barely had time to blink, but Oscar already knew─ it was over.

Because the moment she said yes, the second the fierce little girl beside him claimed more time with him like it was hers to take, it was sealed. After that, it came as naturally as breathing. Oscar and Y/N. Y/N and Oscar. Never one without the other. You led, he followed. And, somewhere along the way, the rest of the world stopped mattering.

You were a constant in Oscar’s life, a lifeline he clung to without realizing he had reached for it in the first place. He got into karting at ten and nothing─ not his dad's last-minute pep talks, not the hours of practice ─ could calm the way his hands trembled on the steering wheel before his first race. His fingers curled on it, hands trembling and grip tight, knuckles aching from the pressure. What if he wasn’t actually good? What if he messed it all up? What if─?

And then, there you were. Signature grin, messy ponytail, a tiny hand sign scribbled in clashy, colorful letters: GO, OSCAR GO!! The words were surrounded by questionable doodles ─ stick-figure cars with lopsided wheels, a few stray hearts in the margins like an afterthought. “I came to watch you win,” you said, like there was no other possibility. After that, the race was just a race.

The moment you dropped a chaste kiss on his helmet, all nerves settled. When he passed by you, you brandished your sign high in the air, a beacon, the only thing he really needed to see. He won that race with his head held high and in the middle of celebration ─ his mom hugging him tight, cheers echoing all around ─ he silently dedicated his victory to you.

Because when he scanned the crowd, your eyes were the easiest to find. Because nothing ever felt better than the feeling of you running in his arms right after.

And just like that─ childhood blurred into early adolescence in a flurry of incandescent polaroids: late afternoon on track, whooping as Oscar made his laps, stolen moments on the swings at the playground between school and training, a thousand shared snacks, juice boxes, whispers, a million inside jokes and secrets. Summers spent side by side, laughter tangled in the air like something meant to last forever.

Years of Oscar and Y/N. Y/N and Oscar. No space between. No questions about what you were to each other. Not yet. 

But Oscar Piastri is fifteen when he leaves you behind.

He had been offered a seat in Formula 4. The words came in a rush, tumbling from an ecstatic Chris Piastri and an equally thrilled Nicole Piastri, their voices nearly overlapping in excitement. Oscar heard them, he knew what they were saying and yet his mind refused to catch up. He sat there, cereal spoon dangling in the air, milk dripping back in his bowl.

The world around him blurred─ static in his ears, something like disbelief flooding his veins. He had wanted this. Trained for this. But now that it was real, it was as if his body had forgotten how to move. So you did it first.

Your arms wrapped around his neck without a second thought, squeezing tight. A hug that made it impossible to do anything but exist in the moment. He unfroze: the weight of your warmth, how you clung to him without any reservation, it yanked him back. His hands had found your back, gripping instinctively. It hit him all at once: Formula 4. His dream was real. And you were here, like always.

Until you wouldn’t be anymore.

Everything slipped past Oscar in a blur: he applied to a boarding school and got accepted in the same week, his parents were already looking for a house nearby, and his mom searching for job opportunities ─ in Brighton, England, closer to where he would be practicing. A thousand kilometers away from Australia, a thousand memories away from you.

One thing you learned in your years of friendship with Oscar was that he wasn’t much of a talker. He wasn’t big on the expression of feelings either ─ he showed affection softly, when he thought people wouldn’t notice. But you did, and you never planned on doing anything about it because that was just how Oscar was: reserved, hesitant in his tenderness. So the conversation about his departure never came ─ it was just a weight, hanging in the air of your every interaction, untouched. He didn’t want to venture there, to face how he wouldn’t wake up next to you anymore after another sleepover, how he would have to learn how to exist without you at arm’s reach. The lack of you was already digging a hole in his chest, and it was one of the main reasons he said no to your proposition of a send-off party.

But Oscar knew you too, too well, so he was only half-surprised when he turned on the light of his house after training and discovered the crowd of your shared friends amidst colorful balloons and cakes. You stood out in all of them when you offered him the smile that was uniquely his, and Oscar’s chest almost collapsed.

The party was fun. He got goodbye gifts ─ trinkets, plushies and books he knew he’ll lose sleep over. He didn’t dance to the music, but enjoyed watching people lose themselves in the soft light of his kitchen from the sidelines. Some friends cried and some friends didn’t ─ he side-hugged them all, never letting them too close except for a select few, and he accepted the heartfelt speeches with reassurances that he will come back during the summer, without a doubt.

The night slowed, party leftovers forgotten on the counters, and the house was quieter now that most of the guests had filtered out. Only a few stragglers remained inside, their voices dimmed to an unobtrusive murmur. But Oscar, the supposed star of the show, was hesitating in the threshold of his front door ─ because you were outside. And wherever you went, he followed.

You were sitting on the front door steps, arms wrapped around your knees, bathed in the dim glow of the porch light. The soft hum of cicadas filled the space as Oscar sat beside you. He knew he should say something, anything. Thank you for the party, even though he swore he didn’t want one. You were right, because of course, you were. Or finally address what was begging to be talked about ─ he just didn’t know how. Because sitting right here, with you just a few inches away, he realizes this is it. 

This is the last night before everything changes, and he can’t do anything about it. So he stays silent.

“You’re freaking out,” you say. Not a question. Your observant eyes flickered to his face, gaze soft in the way that makes his breath catch.

Oscar exhales sharply, tipping his head back against the wooden railing. “Am not.”

You give him a look. The look that always calls his bullshit. “Alright, I am.” He swallows, voice quieter. “A little.”

A pause. And then─ a nudge. Your knee bumping into his. A small, familiar thing, but somehow it unravels him. His eyes are burning, and he can’t pinpoint why. “You’ll be fine, Osc’’,” you affirmed, as certain as the sun rising tomorrow. “As long as you don’t forget about me.” A quiet laugh escaped you.

And Oscar could feel it, the thick air between you, pressing against his throat and sitting on his tongue. How could he ever forget about you? You were sitting so close, staring at him as if tucking him in some secret place inside of you. Oscar hated it, so much that it finally slipped─ “I don’t want to go.”

It came out quieter than he expected. Your lips parted slightly, brows furrowed, and Oscar felt like he said too much and not enough at the same time. Because he did want to go, but what he meant was, I don’t want to go if it means leaving you, I don’t know how to exist without you in my orbit. What he really meant, he couldn’t understand what it was no matter how hard he tried.

He forced out a chuckle, shaking his head. “I mean─” Oscar cleared his throat. “I do. Obviously. It’s just─ It’s gonna be weird.”

“Yeah, it is,” you murmured, flushing against his shoulder. “But we’ll make it work.”

Oscar looked at you, really did. The way the light caught the edges of your face, the night breeze playing with your hair, how you existed so beautifully and effortlessly, as you belonged in all the places he had ever loved. The words almost slipped out: You could come with me.

It was right there, clawing its way up his throat.

Yet, something stopped him. Because it wasn’t fair. Because he didn’t know what it meant. Because he didn’t know if he was asking like a best friend or something else, and he didn’t know what to do with the way you were constricting his chest, how you pressed against his ribcage, demanding more. You looked at Oscar and he looked at you ─ he swallowed it down, staring at the playground far in front of you. 

And the moment passed.

Oscar left the day after, and the empty house was now the one next to yours.

Your hotel room was eerily quiet.

You were never known for silence ─ all your life, people had repeatedly told you about the overwhelming space you occupied, how loud your laugh echoed, how you never quite knew how to fold and pocket yourself to be less. Growing up, adults meant it in an endearing way. Now, you realized just how much the words stung, even if you never took them as insults. But here, in the uncomfortable coldness of the room you rented for the week-end, everything was quiet: no music, no you talking to yourself. Nothing.

It felt unnatural ─ like something was missing. The one thing that always reassured you about the room you took up.

It left you restless, and your hands trembled a little as you finished applying the last layer of mascara on your lashes. Maybe it was just nerves ─ after all, it’s been a while since you’ve been on a race and hung out with Hattie, Edie, Mae, Nicole, and Chris. Ever since you moved out for university, the city of Melbourne and all of the memories it held always managed to make you a bit anxious.

However, deep down, you knew. It’s the fact that for the first time in over a year, you were going to see Oscar.

Your reflection stared back at you in the mirror as you dropped your makeup next to the sink. You couldn’t decipher your own expression.

Hattie texted you out of nowhere, and even though it wasn’t unusual for you two to talk from time to time, it surprised you a bit when she asked you if you were going to the Grand Prix. It shouldn’t have, she didn’t know ─ or maybe she suspected something, but you still said you’d be coming. So Nicole was on her way to pick you up and take you to the same spot you’ve been occupying since 2023, and you’ll have to sit and act as if everything was alright, as if her son was the best friend you grew up with and didn’t become an acquaintance overnight that you occasionally exchanged “good morning”, “good night”, “happy birthday” and “how are you doing?” texts with.

Because ever since that fateful night after the Melbourne Grand Prix of 2024, something shifted between you and Oscar. Something that had been weighing on you both for years, waiting, waiting, waiting- until it finally cracked, only to narrowly miss you. And now? You didn’t know his weekly schedule, and you couldn’t remember the last time you complained about your teachers to him. You and Oscar weren’t quite strangers, but you weren’t you anymore either. 

Because whatever had been waiting that night never had a chance to be resolved. And maybe it never would.

You shut your eyes, your breathing quickening dangerously. No. You weren’t going to think about that right now. It’s fine ─ you’re just here to watch a race like you always did. Just another race. It didn't have to mean anything more than that, did it? You’ll cheer, you’ll congratulate him, and you’ll leave. Even if it was his home race. Even if it was in the same city you laughed in his backyard, held hands running in the streets, stayed awake at ungodly hours of the night tangled together, the city you had both known and lost each other.

Frankly, you weren’t sure what you were expecting─ what you even wanted this weekend to be. All you knew was that you desperately wanted to grasp at the last semblance of normalcy that used to be between Oscar and you, and if that meant showing up at the Melbourne race and praying for his car to see the checkered flag in pole position like the deepest parts of your heart weren’t screaming for him, so be it.

When Nicole called you to tell you she parked her car, you took a deep breath and walked to the elevator, carefully ignoring the sickening feeling of your stomach reminding you that, in Melbourne, there was no simply ignoring the past anymore.

Oscar Piastri is twenty when he tells you the news.

Five years have passed ever since he moved out of Australia, but no matter how the years stretched between then and now, racetracks and podium dreams, Oscar always made sure of one thing: that he’d come back. Back to his neighborhood, these streets, the quiet buzz of familiarity.

And back to you.

Time had tried its best to pull you apart with different schedules, different time zones, and places, but you two were still an unstoppable force. Y/N and Oscar. Oscar and Y/N. No matter how late the flights, how long the race weekends, how exhausting the training, he always called ─ even if it was past midnight, or he had to wake up in three hours, or he could barely keep his eyes open. Because your voice, distant and barely audible through the crackling of a bad signal, was home. And you always picked up.

Oscar missed it. He made friends in boarding school, a group of laid-back guys who filled the late hours with video games and terrible jokes, making his new world a little less foreign. He enjoyed their company, sure, but none of them were you. None of them could look at him and already know what he was thinking, like the syllables were etched in your bones, and they didn’t tilt their head up at the sky on a rusty swing set, taking him with them, and spun the world into something bigger. God, he missed that. He missed you.

Even though, sometimes, he wondered if you missed him just as much.

Obviously, since Oscar left, you had to build something for yourself in the space he left behind, and it only became more concrete when you enrolled in a university away from Melbourne. He tried to be happy for you when you did. But then you would tell him about a friend group he didn’t know the faces of, threading into the places he used to be and the places he’d never been, the ones he couldn’t visit with you like the café near your 10 a.m. lecture on Fridays. 

Sometimes, only sometimes, when he allowed himself to feel a bit more than he should, the scraps of emotions he usually denied himself ─ he was scared he didn’t belong in the new sphere you’ve constructed for yourself. That he was a dusty polaroid in a wooden box, waiting for the day you’d tuck him away.

But that had to be wrong. It had to be. Because the second your eyes found his as he stepped out of the airport, it was like nothing had changed. Like the months apart, the missed calls, the milestones he couldn’t be there for ─ none of it mattered.

The way you looked at him, like he was still your Oscar, the boy you always had known and always will, it made up for everything.

You had been there when Oscar graduated from Formula 4 to Formula 3. You had been right by his side when Formula 3 turned to Formula 2 the following year. Whether it be by phone or in person when the good news coincided with both of your trips to your childhood neighborhood. Your excited screech, your lips on his cheek twisting his stomach and painting his cheeks red, he figured it was just common sense for you to learn he’s been promoted a third time in person. He wanted to see your reaction.

Whenever you and Oscar came back, your mom would welcome you with open arms in your old home. There were only two bedrooms, one that was your mom’s, which used to be awkward for him before it became a common occurrence for you two to share a bed. Both your parents had forbidden it, but quickly gave up when you used to find a way to sneak into Oscar’s bedroom and keep him awake. Their resolve vanished entirely when they noticed quiet, untroubled Oscar started getting on it as well.

So there you were, twenty years old in your childhood bedroom, sharing a bed too small for your height. The window was half-opened, the air thick and unmoving, letting in the last shreds of sunset that danced across your skin in soft, golden streaks. You were facing each other, which allowed him to see your eyes flutter, heavy with exhaustion, your breathing slow and even as if the mere act of being near him was enough to let you rest.

Oscar flushed at that thought. You had spent hours driving just to come and get him, to fall in bed beside him, limbs tangled, words fading into the quiet comfort of home. Just to be here, with him.

He wanted to wait. Until your eyes were wide open and you were awake enough to react like you always did: in screams and hugs and plans of the future. But the warmth curling in his chest wasn’t allowing him to keep it from you any longer.

“I got a seat in Formula One,” Oscar announced in the silence of the room.

“What?” Your voice was hoarse from tiredness, but it didn’t stop your sharp gaze from snapping to his. Your lips parted, just barely, an inhale caught in your throat, and Oscar gets distracted.

He shouldn’t, not now, but─ he can’t help it.

How many times had he seen you like this? Sleep-heavy, warm with exhaustion, curled up beside him. Too many to count. Not once had it felt like this, like something heavier rested on his shoulders.

He repeats with a little difficulty, forcing himself back to the moment. “I got a seat in Formula One.” He swallows before precising, “Not Alpine. McLaren.”

You blinked. Once, twice, your brain catching up with the weight of his words. Then, before Oscar could brace himself, you were moving.

You crashed into him, as much as you could in the position you were, tucking yourself against his chest in the semblance of a hug. The pressure was nothing, still, the air was knocked out of his lungs. “You did it!” You whispered-yelled against his shoulder, voice trembling with emotion. “Oh my god, Osc’. You did it. I fucking knew you would.”

Of course, you knew. You always knew before Oscar did, before he even started believing in it himself. A scoff, wet with feelings, escaped him as his shaky fingers hovered over your ribs, processing the situation. You pulled back, just enough to look at him, pupils blown wide. The palm that wasn’t resting on his chest slipped up, featherlight, to cup his cheek. Oscar almost flinched. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but─”

“Don’t even start,” you interrupted him. “You’re going to be in Formula One! In McLaren! That’s huge, and─”

Realization hits you like a truck. “Oh my god, Daniel Ricciardo.”

Out of all the things that could have ruined the moment, Oscar wouldn’t have expected it to be Daniel Ricciardo. “Yeah,” he deadpanned. “Everyone loves Daniel. We get it. My mom said the same thing.”

A disbelieving laugh escaped you, and you shoved him a little. “Come on, it’s a shock for me!”

“It’s also pressure, but thank you so much for your consideration.”

“I congratulated you two seconds ago!”

“I’m sure Daniel would love your condolences even more.”

By that point, you were a giggling mess beneath Oscar’s hands, so much that the sound successfully got a few huffs out of him as well. The pressure of the news evaporated at each new chuckle out of your mouth, and the room was finally big enough to breathe.

Laughter died down, reduced to heavy intakes of air between half-sentences, and that’s when Oscar realized.

Your fingers, gently brushing over his cheekbones, nails grazing his skin. His palms capturing your sides as your thigh rested between his legs. He wasn’t pulling you in, clinging to you like he always did ─ instead, he froze. His heart was stuttering too fast, too loud, in a way that had nothing to do with the news he’d just shared and you simply stared at him, eyes sparkling, as if he handed you the World Driver’s Championship trophy right here and there. Waiting for something.

The heat of your body, your usual proximity, the soft cotton of the sheets did nothing to help the blood boiling in Oscar’s veins and thoughts spiraled in a blink, of what it would be like if he just let his hand roam a little lower, if your breath swept over his lips. 

Words lodged themselves in his throat, just like they did when he was fifteen, sitting on his porch. But this time, he knew. No pretense, no excuse. He was twenty years old, not a child anymore. He knew what these words were and what they wanted to be.

You could come with me. You could come to my races. You could stay. Stay with me.

His chest squeezed. His fingers twisted. His mouth stayed shut.

Because you had a life here. A life that, lately, felt like it had more and more spaces he didn’t fit into. What was he supposed to say? Drop everything? Follow me? Give up everything you built and choose me?

Oscar Piastri wasn’t a wishful thinker, he didn’t ask for things he wasn’t sure he could have ─ and he wasn’t sure he could have you. Not because he didn’t want to, he desperately wanted to, but because he still didn’t understand it. He didn’t get why you put that ache in his chest, the weight in his ribs. Why it was more painful to be away from you, to see you live without him, than his old friend group ─ he put the fault on nostalgia, but it wasn’t it. He had spent years trying to figure it out and still ─ still ─ didn’t have the answer.

So he did what he’d usually do when meaning escaped him. 

He buried it. He’ll take a look at it. He’ll figure it out later.

“Being in F1,” he cleared his throat. “It’s going to be harder, with the schedule and all that. But I promise─”

“You don’t need to,” you cut him off and Oscar noticed the light slightly dim in your eyes, then coming back like nothing happened. “We’ll make it work, we always do.”

You pulled back again, taking your hand with you and letting the cold air replace your touch. Somehow, Oscar knew he did something, but once more he didn’t know what. Instead, he let himself believe the moment was nothing more than what it had always been. Nothing more than you, his best friend, happy for him.

But as you fell asleep, the distance put by you larger than it ever was before, even by just a few millimeters, something inside of him whispered─ liar.

Oscar got in his car, and yet his mind was as far away from it as it could be. Walking out the garage, he had seen his entire family cheering for him, his mom dropping a good-luck kiss on his cheek, and he should be grounded in the moment. He should be basking in the cheers of his home crowd and the familiarity of Australian air opening his season, but he couldn't. Because there was no sign of you.

He had thrown a glance at Hattie, a silent question, and she simply shrugged. Oscar didn't know what that meant: if you excused yourself for a moment or didn't come at all. Which one he was hoping for, that was the question.

And so the formation lap started. The car was feeling good, great even ─ Oscar had done well during the testing rounds and free practices, even landing second place in qualifications right behind Lando. His chest had swelled with hope that maybe, just maybe, he could take on his home race. He brushed the podium last year, how far could he be from taking it with both hands this time?

He could hear his race engineer checking last minute details, the impatient buzzing of the crowd, the motor of his car warming up and flaring to life. It was a sound, a rhythm he could recognize eyes closed.

As the lap concluded, cars finally ready to live through 58 rounds, a streak of hair caught his eye.

If he could decipher the metre of a Grand Prix with his eyes closed, Oscar knew he could recognize the pattern of you before you even came into view. It was brief─ almost a blur, but it was more than enough.

Through the haze of rain-slicked asphalt and the relentless roar of the engine, he caught you. Standing with his family against the edge of the garage like you belonged there, which you did, hands clasped tight against your chest like you were the one in the car, navigating the turns for him. Your hair, wild from the wind, dampened by the drizzle, framing your face. God.

You came. 

After everything, you were really there.

For him.

Oscar pulled his car in P2, but the flickering red lights above him did nothing to calm his racing mind. You always watched his races like this: lived through them like they were your own. Somehow, that made it easier. The loneliness of battling against your own, the relentless push forward. You made it lighter, less suffocating. You always have been. And you were ready to watch him race again, after everything. His chest twisted, his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

And even in the current circumstances, Oscar wasn’t thinking about the race. Not at all.

For what he wished could have been the first time, but wasn’t, the car was filled with the thought of you.

Because it hits him. Like a crash, full speed, sparks flying. Why missing you hurt so much. Why, after a year of unnatural distance of swallowing down whatever had possessed him that night in Melbourne a year ago, he still felt like something lacked.

Oh.

And before he could process it all, it was lights out.

Oscar Piastri is twenty-two when he fucks it up.

The Melbourne Grand Prix didn’t go so badly, but it didn’t go well either. Oscar had been so close to getting a podium on his home race, and watching his colleague, his friend, receiving the applause of his home crowd left a bitter feeling in the back of his throat. He cheered and congratulated, because he was a good sport and genuinely happy for Lando, but the uneasiness didn’t leave him when the cameras turned off.

It was a sticky heaviness in his ribcage, glued to it like molten plastic, tightening with every half-smile and “good jobs” aimed at him. He should’ve been happy, ecstatic. But he just wasn’t.

So he forced himself to go out to celebrate anyway, even half-heartedly. He didn’t want to look like the asshole he really felt like, so he nodded at conversations he wasn’t listening to, let the bass drum against his skin in a club he didn’t even want to be into.

Oscar lasted maybe an hour.

The flashing lights felt too bright, the press of bodies too wrong for his current state of mind. The scent of alcohol curled in his nose, sharp and sour, and something in him was teetering to break the last agreeable bone in his body. As he got out of the club, he thought about how he wanted to be anywhere else but here, suffocating in his own unjustified frustration. 

The only place he wanted to be was with you.

He barely had time to see you before he got whisked away by his team and interviewers. He wanted to tell you about the race, about what he thought, because you were the only one he enjoyed being listened to by, the only one it didn’t feel awkward. No matter how much he tried to shove things down, to ignore whatever it was that had been thrumming under his skin- you were still the first person he reached for. So before he could really think about it, he’d already dialed your number. “Hey, I’m sorry, I know─ Can you hear me? Yeah? Alright. I know it’s late but… can you pick me up?”

And of course you did. Because you were Oscar and Y/N. Y/N and Oscar. Because no matter where or when─ when Oscar called, you always came.

Your car was in front of the building not even ten minutes later, and he got in. His favorite music on the aux, he smiled at the attention, easy conversation started flowing between the two of you as you drove to the driveway of your house. You didn’t ask why he left. You knew he’d talk about it when he wanted to, if you pressed on the issue he would only close up more ─ get sarcastic, avoidant.

So you both sat on your front porch, the night silent around you, still warm from the heat of the day. “... don’t think he'll be able to walk home tomorrow,” Oscar commented.

“He got third and he's still getting shitfaced like that?” You asked with a disbelieving laugh. “Wonder what will happen for his first pole position.”

“I don't even want to think about it,” he sighed. “His PR team is gonna have a field day.”

“Wonder what will happen during yours, to be honest.” You bumped your shoulder with his, something so casual that still sent the familiar shivers down his spine. “What kind of celebration are you going to pull in Australia, huh?”

The simple sentence was cold rain on Oscar’s newfound relaxation. He knew you didn’t mean it like that, you never would, but his shoulders tensed up and his gaze drifted away from yours. “Yeah, well, at the rhythm it’s going, maybe we’ll have a party when I retire.”

You threw him a glance, the kind that knew what was lying behind all of his barriers, behind the sudden phone call. Oscar let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the material of his jeans. 

“Is that why you asked me to pick you up?” You ended up asking, voice soft. You weren’t trying to pry too much, and he silently thanked you for it. For everything, really.

“I didn’t want to be there,” he answered.

There was nothing more to say: Oscar was bitter and that was the end of it ─ or maybe not, but he didn’t want to get into it tonight when the feelings were still raw, painfully open to see. Yet, your hand found his, stilling the restless motion of his hand against his thigh. Slowly, deliberately, you wove them together. Your palms, warm and steady, rested above his knee. “Then why’d you go? We could have done something. Just the both of us, y’know.”

This time, Oscar looked at you.

And it was all too much. Worry laced in the edges of your expression, the subtle scrunch of your eyebrows he would have missed if he didn’t know you as well as he did, your hand in his ─ steady, grounding. It belonged there, he thought, it always did. You cared about him, that’s what scared him at first ─ because you were sunlight, not the kind that burned but the kind that warmed. The constant, unwavering glow of a beacon that guided him, never pulled him under.

And yet, there he was. Drowning in the mess he tried to push away for so long and was coming back full force, with a simple touch of the hand.

Oscar had two drinks earlier, and it made everything too sharp, his emotions too messy. His tongue a little too loose.

“I thought if I pretended hard enough, it would go away.” He didn’t know if he was talking about the race anymore.

You scooted closer, as if sharing a secret, but the closeness was too intimate for the situation. “What would?” You asked in a whisper.

Oscar’s breath hitched at the way the streetlamps caught in your hair, how your eyes searched his. There was a shift in the air, in the barely-there space between the two of you, in the way your fingers refused to let go of the grip it had on the other.

He should let go.

But your lips parted, ever so slightly, and Oscar allowed his gaze to dip to them. He kissed girls before, he even had a few short-lived relationships, but none of them ever felt right, like they belonged in a lasting manner in his life. They always felt like placeholders for something else, something more, less of a daunting feeling in his guts. He never really told you about it ─ it had always been an unspoken rule in your friendship, without knowing why. Now, he had a sneaky, unnerving suspicion.

Oscar kissed girls before, but he never kissed you.

He didn’t know if it was a mistake. He didn’t know if he should cross that line, but God he wanted to ─ he only knew that he wasn’t sure of what was waiting for him on the other side of it. His heart hammered in his chest, so hard he was afraid you’d hear it. You leaned in, imperceptibly, and your warm breath brushed against his lips. If he let himself, just for a second─ one tiny, irreversible second─ he would kiss you.

He was close. Too close. Feelings were too many. He needed to tell you before something could happen.

“Come with me,” Oscar blurted out, in a murmur along the shape of your lips, a plea in the leftover space.

And just like that, he felt the moment slip away from him. Your eyes, now sharp, snapped to him in a swift movement. And that’s when he knew. That wasn’t the right thing to say or do.

“What?” Your voice was quiet, laced with disbelief. Confusion swirled in your pupils, wondering if you misheard or if he misspoke.

Maybe he had. Maybe this wasn’t how it was supposed to come out- not here, not now, not like this.

“I- Uh…,” Oscar stammered. “Come with me. Stay. For the next races.” Please.

You pulled away, and the lack of you in his space caused his head to spin, his heart still beating violently against his chest, this time in panic. What did he do?

“What are you asking me exactly, Osc’?”

The question of the day. Because what was he asking, really? To be there for the few days in between flights and training and traveling and pretending his world wasn’t moving too fast for him to catch his breath? Sit in the stands, waiting for him to make up his mind about something he had been wondering about for the past fourteen years? Because what did he mean, and why couldn’t he understand?

It wasn’t fair. Not to you.

He swallowed, throat tight with something he couldn’t name and suddenly the night was too cold to stay outside anymore. Oscar forced out a weak chuckle, like it was just some stupid joke as if the word hadn’t crawled out of his chest on their own. “I meant─” He ran a quick hand through his hair. “Ha. Never mind. Forget it.”

And this time, when the light dimmed in your eyes, it didn’t come back. You won’t forget it. Because you saw right through him. Still, you didn’t push ─ every time you did, disappointment crawled over you like insects. After a beat of silence, one that felt like a lifetime, you exhaled, something fragile flashing across your features before you masked it with a tight-lipped smile. He hated it.

You nodded. “Sure.” Just that. Oscar didn’t know what he was expecting. No questions, accusations.

But that was almost worse, you let him get away with it, with the almost, with all of it.

When you both went to sleep that night, it was the first time in forever you didn’t sleep in the same bed. You pretended to have a headache, said you’d join him once it settled down. Oscar fell into slumber alone. 

For some reason, it felt like losing.

Saying to have known love at eight years old would have to be a lie, but Oscar knew you jump-started his heart the minute your laugh echoed in his ear at that playground, fifteen years ago.

He had been pathetically doomed from the start.

From the first glance, to the first laugh, to when your fingers grazed his when you took the controller to his truck ─ a touch so small that had burned itself into his memory like a brand. He was too young to understand what it meant at fifteen when he sat beside you on his porch. Too blind to recognize it at twenty, lying in your childhood bedroom and hands fisting the sheets to stop them from reaching for you. Too scared to act on it last year, close enough to touch and closer than you had been in years and he still let the moment pass him.

The truth was simply this: no matter what, Oscar had always known. Maybe not at eight, maybe not at fifteen. But deep inside, he had always, always known. And he had spent every year since then trying to ignore it.

Not anymore. He couldn’t ─ not when he messed it up last time. Not when he was on the verge of losing you for good.

Oscar Piastri loves you, like a madman, and he needed to tell you like someone drowning needed air.

But to do that, he’d have to get out of the patch of grass he got himself into first.

The track was slippery due to the rain, and a simple mistake could lead to tragic circumstances: this was one of them. Oscar was stuck in the grass of the circuit after a turn he took too narrowly. He lost his P2, the one of his home race he had been searching for since last year. The scream of frustration he let out had earned a pained groan from his race engineer, and to make it worse, he was apparently already written as Out.

But that wouldn’t happen. Because Oscar didn’t go after things he knew he couldn’t have ─but he knew he could have this race. He could finish it. He wouldn’t DNF.

And after he’d be done with it, he’d go after you.

So he dragged himself out under the cheers of his home crowd, an ecstatic buzz in his ears. The last of the laps passed in an angry blur: Oscar was driven by sheer determination, rage even, he could barely remember overtaking Hamilton, fighting his way to P9, and grabbing as many points as he could have in his situation. He could do it.

The race ended in a flurry of applause, some of them surprisingly directed at him. Oscar tried to get out of his car as fast as he could but under the special circumstances of his race, he knew getting past the journalists and commentators was going to be almost impossible. And it was, because as soon as he put a foot on paddock ground, he was swarmed by microphones, cameras, and flashing lights, waiting for every tear to turn into a headline that people would twist and shape.

A few hours passed by the time he was finally able to reach his family. After the regular hugs and reassurances, one of the first things his mom said was: “That’s too bad you just missed Y/N, she had to go back. I wish she could have stayed, she always knows what to say to you,” with motherly little taps on the cheek.

Oscar felt a hole opening in his chest. “She left?” He asked, trying to muster as much nonchalance as he could. 

It wasn’t very efficient, as Nicole gave him the kind of look you’d give to a kicked puppy. “Yeah, she did.” Quickly, she added, “She didn’t go back to her hotel, though. I asked to drop her off and she refused, saying she had somewhere to be.”

It was as vague as it could possibly get, maybe because you didn’t want Oscar to seek you out. But he needed to, he had to get it off his chest before your relationship could worsen ─ and he couldn’t do that by text or calls, for the little you exchanged over the past year. He had to know if the little gap you almost crossed on that front porch meant something and could have been something if he hadn’t fucked it up. If it was too late for it to become something now. And knowing you, you’d be gone by tomorrow morning.

Oscar dashed. 

He got into his car, drove too fast under the intensifying rain. There was no time to waste for him. What he was thinking about was a long shot, an extremely long one for a non-wishful thinker, but if today put you in the same state as him ─ there was a chance, a small one, that you’d be there. 

When he pulled into your childhood neighborhood, his drenched windshield made the road and its surroundings almost indiscernible. But right before the little street leading to both of your houses, he passed by that old, worn-down playground that somehow stood against the test of time, with its rusted swing set and old dirt roads. But his breath didn’t catch on that, no.

It caught on you, sitting on the lower branches of the tree you spied him on at eight.

Oscar had never parked so hastily. He never ran so fast, soaking the McLaren hoodie he put on in a rush before going out. His hair stuck to his forehead and when he reached the dry soil underneath the tree you were hiding on. Arms around yourself, staring in the empty, like you were holding yourself together.

He hesitated momentarily, and all the fears plaguing his mind the past years came rushing back. What if it was too late? What if all he’d get was a final goodbye?

Then you turned, and your gaze found his in the settling dark. All doubts vanished at the same moment ─ he’d rather regret saying too much and grasp at the chance of something than live the rest of his life in silence, drowning in the regrets of saying nothing at all.

“Y/N,” he called, a little strangled, arms dangling at his side.

“Oscar?” You frowned, jumping the small distance separating you from the ground. “What-? How’d you know─?”

“I… guessed.”

“Oh.”

Silence. The incessant rhythm of the rain filled the space as you both stared each other down. Waiting. What was he supposed to say now? “So… uh. How are you?”

Your eyes widened, and a scoff escaped you. “How am─?” You crossed your arms on your chest, staring at Oscar like he had grown a second head ─ and maybe he had, because he couldn’t even try to think straight. “I’m good, Oscar. Great. How was the race?”

“It was─” He stopped, swallowed. It felt plastic, strange ─ the distance, the iciness. Both of you knew you weren’t really inquiring about the race, you knew him better than anyone and probably guessed how it felt already, and he wasn’t really inquiring about you.

It was the first time you saw each other after last year, and everything felt more real. Heavy.

“Did you forget how to talk, Osc’?”

Osc’. You haven't called him that in a long time.

A nervous chuckle escaped him. You were so far and so close at the same time, hair frizzy from the dampness, knees scratched from your recent climb ─ he missed you, you were right there and he still missed you, because you were slowly slipping through his fingers. The last bit of his resolve crumbled.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Oscar never showed too much emotion. But here he was, drenched by the rainfall, eyes open and raw. And you didn't know what to do with that. You shifted on your feet. “For what?”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp hair, frustration bleeding into the gesture. “You know what for.”

“That’s not enough. Not anymore.” Your voice was laced with barely contained emotions, strangling you.

He knew. Oscar stepped forward tentatively, just once. Enough to make you look up at him, and he held your gaze even as it twisted with the kind of hurt he never wanted to be responsible for, but had to be faced with. Because he had. And he had to own up to it ─ so everything spilled out.

“I fucked up, last year. Big time.” His voice cracked. He couldn’t care less. “And I know- shit, I know I’m probably too late. I should’ve said something back then, but I didn’t know how or what or why.”

“I was scared. Not just of ruining things, even though it was a part of it, but of─ of what it meant. I didn’t understand, Y/N. I didn’t get why you were the first person I looked for in a room, why I felt so goddamn lost when I moved out and you weren’t there anymore, why seeing you living your own life without me was─ I don’t know, I guess I’m selfish or something.” His throat burned. “And that night─ here, last year─ I should’ve known. Fuck, I think I knew long before then but I was just so blind. When I asked you to come with me, and we─ I should’ve known why. I did. I just─ I didn’t want to mess it up. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Oscar let out a short, breathless laugh, shaking his head. “But I did anyway. I messed it all up because I couldn’t make up my mind, and I don’t blame you if you don’t─ if you can’t─”

He couldn’t finish the sentence.

The rain pattered against the dirt and the surrounding pavement, unrelenting, like both of your heartbeats. Oscar’s fingers twitched, aching to reach for you ─ but he wouldn’t do it. Not unless you let him.

Finally, you spoke. “You’re the biggest idiot I met in my entire life, Osc’. You’re so stupid.”

Your voice was teary, but you didn’t cry. You weren’t angry. You weren’t turning away. You simply stared at him, lips parted ─ barely smiling, but it was there.

Oscar blinked rapidly, taken aback. “I know,” he admitted, his voice a whisper, “but I love you.”

There it was. After fifteen years, there it was: the plain truth, out in the open for you to see. What he spent his time running from, what he should have told you so long ago.

You didn’t react. Your eyes widened, a sharp inhale went through your mouth and you stared, frozen in place. Oscar panicked. “I understand if you don’t─ I mean, after everything, I get it if─ Or, or maybe I misread, but─”

“Say it again.”

Your voice was authoritative. Hopeful. And this time, a tear slid down your cheek. His heart skipped a bit. “I love you.”

And Oscar Piastri is twenty-three when he kisses you for the first time.

Your hands grabbed the hood of his sweatshirt, pulling him to you. The crash of your lips against his was sudden, but it didn’t take Oscar long to find a rhythm ─ not when it made so much sense, not when it felt so right. Finally.

A shudder rippled through him, something snapping back into place. It was messy, desperate ─ years of missed chances spilling out at once. You exhaled against his mouth and Oscar felt it everywhere, in the way his fingers trembled when he cupped your cheeks, how his knees almost buckled when you got closer, in the way his world narrowed down to just you. His mouth against yours. Fuck.

You pulled away, just for a second. “Osc─”

“Not yet,” he rasped. And he captured your lips a second time, choking out any other words.

How had he gone so long without this? Without knowing what it was like to have you like this?

He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips. Desire, want, love, all of it blurred in the way his fingers wove into your hair, when he slowly brought them down to your waist, pulling you against him, hungry, greedy.

If he wanted you to come with him so badly the past few years wasn’t because he needed you at his side ─ he still did, but that wasn’t the gist of it. Now that you were falling apart against his lips, hands making a mess of his rain-drenched hair, he knew he had wanted you next to him because he wasn’t allowing himself to have you. He had wanted you in his chest, curled beneath his ribs, a part of him so irrevocably that no miles, no years, no silence could ever pull you away.

And now, he had you. Shit, if that wasn’t like ascending to heaven felt like, he didn’t know what would.

You put a hand on his chest, slowly, and when you separated Oscar found himself longing for more, for every instance he passed on. Yet, the wide smile on your face stopped him ─ because you looked perfect like this, bright and open, taking up space. That’s why he fell in love with you.

“I love you too. So much,” you said, and the words softly blossomed in Oscar’s chest like spring. He dropped his forehead against yours.

“Me too. I love you. You don’t even know,” he breathed out, his lips slowly dropping a kiss on your forehead. “It feels so good to say it. To know.”

You grabbed the string of his hoodies, toying with them as you’d usually do, but every single one of your actions sent another wave of heat in Oscar’s neck when he remembered what you tasted like. “You could’ve felt good about it earlier, y’know.”

He arched a teasing eyebrow at you and you giggled. “I’m sorry, but the realizing-i’m-in-love-with-my-childhood-best-friend didn’t really come with an instruction material. The confession either.”

“You were pretty dramatic, true, with the rain and the running,” you laughed. “It was gonna be pretty easy for me last year, honestly. Until you bailed.”

Oscar groaned, and his head dropped on your shoulder. “I’m never gonna hear the end of this, am I?”

“Oh yeah, you’re in for a long ride, Piastri.” A long ride. That sounded amazing.

Realization hit him at full force, harder than a crash. “Wait, what do you mean last year?”

Your hand went up, wiping a raindrop dripping down his cheek, and the look you gave him was overflowing with fondness. “I mean that before you tried to kiss me, that night, I would’ve told you I’ve been in love with you ever since I started spying on you at the playground.”

“You…?” Oscar’s mouth dropped open. Had he really been that blind? How many signs had he missed, exactly? “How─”

You kissed him. A quick, hard peck on the lips, but that was enough to shut him up and get him to melt against you once more. “Let’s not talk about it here. I’m cold, and I think it’s the type of discussion that’s too long to have outside,” you said, slipping your hand in his. “My mom would love to make us coffee, if you want.”

Oscar sighed at the familiar feeling, fingers tangling with yours in a well-known pattern. He missed the both of you, and now he got to have it in a better way. “You’re sure? I’d love to, but is your mom─”

“Don’t even worry. She’s been calling me Mrs. Piastri for years now, I think the news will move her to tears.”

So you runned back to the porch of your house where you’d sat years ago, drenched in the deluge but happier than you’ve ever been. Oscar loved you, he knew now. And you loved him back, it was worth the rain, the missed opportunities, the hesitation and the heart wrenching confessions that will follow as you sit down.

You were worth the vulnerability, Oscar thought when you crossed the threshold. You were worth everything.

A year later, Oscar is standing in pole position for the Australian Grand Prix of 2026.

Qualifications went great, keeping the fastest lap position for all rounds. He was confident in his capacity ─ last year had tested his patience and goodwill, but he only came out stronger, more resilient.

The home race curse was a popular saying in Formula One, and sadly he fell victim to it ever since he put his feet in a McLaren in 2023. He had hoped to win the Melbourne race, to bring back the trophy under the cheers of his home crowd and the screams of his family ─ but this year wasn’t for hoping: if there was one thing you taught him, it is that hoping never achieved anything. Actions did. And he was going to win the Australian Grand Prix.

You were standing in your usual spot, orange headphones on, all in smiles and shouts. Hattie next to you playfully shoved an elbow in your ribs to get you to quiet down, which only made you louder. Oscar was persuaded he could hear you above the sound of his race engineer. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe the thought of you swirled around every mechanism of his car like it always did.

Today marked one year since you and Oscar got together. Since the kiss, the realization, the heartfelt confessions above a steaming cup of gingerbread coffee in the middle of summer because your mom affirmed it was a big occasion before leaving the two of you alone. And the fifteen years it took for you to finally get to that point were a painful obstacle of unsaid and what ifs, taking a few months to finally get out of the way, and plenty of awkward conversations ─ but how beautiful was the other side of it.

Devotion and love, gentle and kind. The impulsive dates, the good morning kisses when Oscar had enough time to come and visit, his hand resting comfortably on your lower back, “Oscar Piastri’s partner” on the screen when the camera was pointing at you during races, the weekend getaways.

Oscar noticed the large, varsity top hung on you, a bright orange with the large number 81 written in white. Just underneath, the words Mrs. Piastri were written in a similar font. You had it custom-made a few months into the relationship, simply because the comment about your mother the day he kissed you became a regular inside joke between the two of you.

It made Oscar’s heart flutter every time you wore it.

He observed the red lights above him, flickering out one by one. He thought about it: how the fifteen years of being apart made every day spent with you seem like too little, how he couldn’t get enough of you and how he didn’t want to.

Suddenly, Oscar couldn’t wait for the race to end. Because he was going to keep his P1 with his skills and the speed of his car, and brandish the trophy high on the podium for the country who raised him. Because after, he will rush out in your arms and kiss you until the air in his body runs out. Because he had a girl to get, and plans to make.

Because even though it was only a year spent together, Oscar Piastri is twenty-four when he decides he wants to marry you, and he was not about to wait fifteen more years to make it happen.

©DRGNSFLY 2k25 ─ do not copy, steal, post somewhere else or translate my work without my permission.

[crowned-crimson-flower]

Okay not to be that person but does it not KILL you to see the reaction of Shen Yuan’s family to his death? Like this keeps me awake at three am and haunts me when I am alone

What do you mean MAYBE Shen yuan died alone in his living room and wasn’t found by anyone until days had passed because he didn’t talk much to his family anyway? His younger sister coming into their house to find her brother and yell at him for ignoring her text messages for weeks but secretly she feels just so guilty for not checking up on him.

So she’s on her way with some takeaway and a lecture she’s repeated in her mind the entire elevator ride. She puts her key into his door, a key she has and her brothers have and their parents have but only she ever uses. It hurts her a little that their family never visits yuan-ge but then he just keeps getting sick

She enters and the first thing she smells is this horrible-horrible smell of a corpse that makes her immediately want to retch. I really don’t know how to describe it but just imagine a sister seeing her dead brother rotting before her eyes

Shen yuan must have been dead for at least three days. Shen yuan was dead for three days before his family found out. Shen yuan, even in death, was alone as he was in life. Immediately she dials her brothers and parents and the rest is history

This breaks her, because she keeps recalling the last text Shen yuan had sent asking her to visit and she keeps believing that if she had visited, her brother would be alive

Shen yuan’s brothers whom I imagine to be based on SJ and YQL respectively are no less aggrieved. Er-ge shuts himself off in his office and gets even more cruel to his employees. Deep down, he resented SY for how easily he got attention, how he wrapped everyone around his finger, how he could be hooked on an IV everyday but still smile, how even though life was always cruel to him, he was always kind to life. Most of all, he hated just how easy his brother was to love and hurt and ignore and still love back

He doesn’t attend the funeral, the entire family scorns him for it, saying he doesn’t love SY but the truth is, he wouldn’t have survived seeing the body of his brother so cold

Da-ge is raked with guilt. As the oldest, he always took care of SY, his sister and brother are too young to remember but he remembers how weak SY was when he was born. He and SY had a terrible falling out over SY wanting to live alone, as a result he never visited his baby brother’s apartment. Funny, the first time he visits It is to pack it up in wake of his brother’s death

No one in the family gets over the fact SY was dead for three days before they noticed. They all resent each other for it. But most of all, they resent themselves for it.

[ryozakidesu]

illicit affairs - l.hc

4/4 of diary of the heartbreakers

summary:➸ ♡ Infamous for being every girl's guilty pleasure, Lee Haechan strutted through his life shamelessly. But recently, the new girl caught his eye. Im Hayeon, who he believes that would finally tame his wreckless heart. He was confident he could get the girl. And when he did, he never expected her to have baggages. For example, you, Im Hayeon's best friend. Who suddenly, sparked an idea on his pretty little head. You're trouble-- and you're making Haechan commit Illicit Affairs.

“You're making me do bad things, very, bad things. But then again, I'm no stranger in being the bad guy."

GENRE: Angst, Humor, Fluff, Smut

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, Explicit Sexual Content, Drugs & Alcohol, Infidelity (Cheating), Mentions of Self-harm, Haechan and reader are assholes, nonidol!haechanxfem!reader

WC: 20k (I know, shush)

DISCLAIMER: This story is purely fanfiction. Only the names of the Idols are used, and does not reflect on them in real life. There's no way in any shape of form that they are like this in person, because I MADE IT UP. I don't personally know them. DO NOT STEAL / TRANSLATE / MODIFY. This is my work and I don't appreciate people stealing it. Thank you.

enjoy reading!!

To be fair, Lee Haechan never claimed to be the good guy.

No, matter of fact, he takes pride in being insufferable. He makes it his mission to piss everyone off when he gets in the room. He gets off knowing that even though they hate him, they still can’t get enough of him.

“Lee Haechan!” A girl screams on top of her lungs, rage evident with the way her voice scratches. “Fuck, Renjun, please open this fucking door—” He practically broke his knuckles from knocking at the door too much, but he didn’t care. He needs to get in— like, right now.

For what it feels like two decades, Renjun finally opened the door and he quickly threw his entire body in the room.

“Close it, close it, close it!” He says, struggling to close the door and just as soon as Gaeun, or whatever her name is stepped in front of the door ready to barge in, Haechan manages to close it properly.

“Lee fucking Haechan, what did you do this time?!” Renjun asks, more so yelled whilst grabbing his slippers to throw towards the heaving boy.

“Shit, put that down you crazy bitch!” He flinches everytime Renjun moves his hand with the weapon.

“What the fuck is happening—” Jaemin asks, just leaving the bathroom to witness the war that’s going on in his living room.

“A crazy girl is currently trying to break our door, again, thanks to this fucking—” Renjun finally throws the slipper, but Haechan, being in this same spot way too often, dodges it easily. “—whore!” he winces as he missed

“Okay y’all better keep it down before Jeno wakes up and I know you know he’ll fucking turn you upside down, Haechan.” Jaemin reminds the both of them that the real monster is sleeping, and if Haechan wakes him up even a minute early from his supposed alarm, Jeno would have his arm broken in two seconds.

“Fine! Injunnie, please, let’s calm down. She’s not even there anymore!” Haechan points at the door, and when they glanced at the little gap in the bottom, he was proven to be right. No one’s at the door.

“You’re gonna tell me what happened this time,” Renjun asks, this time his voice controlled but still angry.

Haechan takes a deep breath, plopping himself at the couch before slowly smirking at both of his friends in front of him.

“It’s kinda funny—”

“If you don’t tell us right now I’ll make you eat your shirt,” Jaemin says through his smile.

Haechan rolls his eyes. “Remember Gaeun? From the last party?”

Both his friends took a minute before nodding.

“Yeah so.. we had sex last night.. in her house… and uhm–” he cleared his throat. “Also remember that Spanish professor I bagged last month? Yeah… uh, that was kinda her mom.”

Five full seconds have passed but no one dares to say anything. Renjun’s jaw is on the floor and Jaemin, well.. he smiles like a freak after a few seconds of silence.

“Can’t say I’m not impressed, I mean.. if any of us will do the dumbest shit out there it would be you, but dude… that’s another level of whoreness.” Jaemin says, crossing his arms on his chest and shrugging like it’s a normal conversation.

“I swear to god, if any of those girls even try to get in my way to find you, I'll burn your entire pc set.” Renjun stated with a serious face.

Haechan smirks as he looks at him, fond of Renjun’s annoyed expression, exactly what he liked to see. He could’ve sworn Renjun looks the best when mad.

See, Haechan thrives in the thrill of it all. Girls love bad boys, and he’s really good at being exactly that. The rush of having sex feeds him, the adrenaline fuels his entire system.

He’s hard wired to be a rule breaker. And it’s not like he tries so hard to get girls, that’s not the case at all. Far from that, actually. He doesn’t try at all, which adds above the plethora of things that allures girls to him. With a face and body like his, with the way he talks sweeter than honey, and his movement flows smoother than silk, he gets girls way too easy.

And of course, he pleases girls just as good as everybody expects him to. Matter of fact, way above expectations, the very reason that girls overlook his lack of compassion, or just empathy.

He’ll take you to heaven and let you fall to hell with a smile dancing on his lips.

He’ll treat you as if you’re the most beautiful girl in bed, but act like he doesn’t know you the next morning.

And it’s not like girls doesn’t know that he doesn’t look for a serious relationship, because words travel fast, and Haechan’s reputation is well known, but then again, he’s just that good, that he got girls risking getting their fragile hearts broken in hopes that Lee Haechan will take them serious.

Pfft, even that sentence makes him laugh.

Different girls every other day, Renjun still questions how Haechan avoids diseases on how often he fucks. Jaemin calls his dick an immune titanium rod, and Jeno’s just convinced that Haechan has the most magical yet disgusting dick ever.

Meanwhile, Haechan just simplified it. He likes to fuck, and it’s just so happen he’s not bad on the eyes either, and God had blessed him with a stamina like a superbowl player and a libido of an incubus straight from hell. Not to mention, he’s big and he knows how to use it. With all of that combined, girls just fawn over him so… it all just makes sense. He doesn’t need to be nice. Lee Haechan is infamous for being every girl’s guilty pleasure.

“Who the fuck is she?!”

Haechan lets out an exasperated sigh, covering his right ear slightly as he flinches at the high pitched scream. Brushing his palm across his face, he faced the girl. Whispering an apology with the other girl on his side, he looks up.

“Look, Miyeon–”

“It’s Haru! My name doesn’t even sound like Miyeon!”

Haechan rolled his eyes. Pulling Haru on the side, “Remember how I told you we’re over?”

Although it was fun, Haechan has to admit that this part is exhausting. It’s the sex he enjoys, not the dealing with them after. He knows that they know that he’s not for the long game. It was never that serious, and with the amount of girls he had slept with, he expected them to already know how it is.

“You– you can’t just say that over text!”

“Well, I just did.” He says casually, as if there’s no crying girl in front of him.

“You said– you said you loved me, asshole!” Haru cried more, in hopes to see a glimpse of empathy in the boy.

“Must’ve been high or something,”

And right then, he felt a sting on his right cheek, and gasps from the small crowd that’s gathered. Haru walked off a crying mess, while Haechan was still trying to recover from the ringing in his ear.

“You handled that very well.” Yangyang teases when Haechan comes back to their table.

“Shut your ass up, before I knock your big ass teeth out,” He hissed, and sat by his girl that’s now looking at him shocked and angry.

“Look, baby she’s just crazy, alright? I’m done with her and I’m all about you now,” He says, disgustingly sweet as he puts his hands over her shoulders. and it sounds so fucking insane, but it worked. The girl looked up at him with hope, nodding, believing in what spell Haechan said to her.

“As I was saying,– before you got your ass handed to you– there’s this girl transferring mid semester from Sacred Heart, and apparently she’s the hottest girl from there,” Shotaro, one of his friend, says.

Haechan rolls his eyes, “I don’t care about girls, dude. I have my girl here,” He squeezes the girls arms and smirks at her, making his friends gag in disbelief.

Sacred Heart? He knew about girls from Sacred Heart. Jaemin’s girl, the same one who rejected him was from Sacred Heart. So no, he doesn’t like girls from Sacred Heart.

Besides, there’s plenty of hot girls everywhere, it’s not like he exclusively likes to fuck University girls. It’s not like this girl is that extremely hot to actually pique his curiosity.

“You’re so sweet, babe.” The girl leans on him, with a sickening smirk on Haechan’s face, he brazenly winked at his friends.

“Of course,”

His friends can’t help but to just shake their heads in amusement, seeing Haechan’s magic work first hand still amazes them sometimes.

“Holy shit,”

Haechan didn’t look behind him, even with his friend’s over dramatic reaction to something happening. Their eyes wide, pointing at the entrance of the cafeteria.

“That’s her, dude,” Yangyang says in almost an awe.

That’s what made Haechan look behind him.

And when he does… oh boy.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“No, I swear, I’m in love!” Haechan clutches on the throw pillow, looking like a lovesick puppy.

Renjun was baffled. It was strange seeing him like this, Haechan never and he meant it when he says never, says that four letter word out loud, even more so pertaining to a girl.

“What’s her name again?” Jeno asks, brows furrowed.

“Im Hayeon,” Haechan says her name in such a delicate tone, as if said out loud, butterflies and rainbows will start pouring out.

“Sacred Heart, right?” Jeno reads off his phone, in hopes to find the girl’s picture. He admits she’s pretty, no, scratch that, she’s beautiful.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Lee Jeno. As a matter of fact, it goes out to the three of you– she’s off limits, alright, fuckers?”

Jeno scoffs, Renjun rolls his eyes and Jaemin– well he’s not here. “She’s all yours man. Heard everybody wants her ever since she transferred tho,”

Haechan almost laughs at that statement. “Trust, I will get her– because damn, I think I might go crazy if I don’t.”

Renjun still couldn’t believe all of this is coming from Lee Haechan himself. He’s still suspicious, but at the same time, he hopes that his friend really tries to be serious for once.

“I need everybody to know that I’m off the market. Officially!” Lee Haechan spoke with an intention, one only a love struck person would have.

“Damn, there goes his reputation– straight down the drain.” Says Jeno, watching Haechan daydream about a girl, holding a pillow close to his chest.

“I still don’t trust this,” Renjun says, watching his friend grow heart shaped eyes, clutching his chest on just the mere thought of that Hayeon girl.

And when he heard her talk, oh, game’s over.

Voice sweet as honey.

“I’m Lee Haechan,” He stood before Hayeon, confidently offering his hand to the girl, and damn, her eyes… Her eyes might just melt Haechan in a second.

“Hi.. I’m Ha–”

“Hayeon. Im Hayeon.” Funny, Haechan who’s infamous for forgetting girls names, remembers hers– and she didn’t even say a proper word to sentence yet.

“You’re really pretty.” He doesn’t recognize his own voice.

“You’re sweet,” and when Hayeon giggles and avoided his staring eyes, he knew.

Immediately, he knew it’s so over.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“You’ve got two beds here, sweets. When’s your roommate coming?” Haechan asks in curiosity.

“Soon, hopefully. She’s from Sacred Heart too, been friends since forever,”

Haechan nods, “Aren’t they not accepting late registrants?”

“Yeah they are, but I talked to her on the phone and she says she’ll be here soon. I really hope she settles in quick, I don’t want to have a random roommate or something.” She states. Haechan finds it so cute that her face is so expressive. Every word comes with emotion, and he can just awe.

“I could be your roommate,” He snickers in.

“Don’t be silly,” Hayeon giggled, pulling a smile out of him.

“Don’t want to interrupt– but I think I’m gonna pass out if I didn’t have caffeine in the next two minutes..” Yangyang says suddenly, bursting the bubble Haechan and Hayeon were in.

“I’ll treat you guys! Dream cafe?” Hayeon claps in excitement.

Haechan shakes his head off, “Funny you think you’d pay when you’re around me, sweets. Don’t be silly,”

This isn’t like him, at all. It’s been three days, and he already can feel the lack of sex in his system. He blocked all his girl’s numbers and he can’t find it in himself to look at any other girls right now, except for of course, Hayeon.

“How long are you gonna keep up this act, man?” Yangyang whispered as the two of them walked behind Hayeon, entering the cafe.

“Shut the fuck up, what act? This is me, dude,”

“Don’t make me laugh, in about two days your dick will fall off and find a girl to fuck on its own,” Yangyang laughed but he got cut off when Haechan hits him at the back of his head.

“If she fucking hears you I’ll actually decapitate you,” He whispers, “–and no, it wouldn’t. I’ll make sure at the end of the week we’d be together and we’ll have the most mind blowing se—”

“Haechan? What’s yours?” He didn’t even realize Hayeon is already at the counter when she calls him. He quickly turns to her at a full tilt and beamed,

“Just Iced Americano,” He says, walking up to her to join her at the counter.

Once they settled in a table, Haechan just sat quietly listening to her voice, telling stories and he’s sure he’s never heard something sweeter. He felt like a creep, admiring her every feature but he can’t just help it.

He’s sure her lips would taste like honey, and god, what he would do to taste–

“What did you say your friend’s name again?” Yangyang says in between his sips.

“Y/n, why?”

“Y/n… where do I know her… shit I feel like I knew her..” Yangyang thinks harder than he does in his Biology exam, wondering why your name leaves familiarity in his tongue..

“She’s… been around. Have you perhaps… slept with her?” Hayeon winced at the end of her sentence. Haechan just furrows his brow, confused as to why they’re talking about a random person.

“Oh, fuck, Choi Seungcheol’s Y/n?!” Yangyang almost screamed. Haechan blinks thrice, very baffled about Yangyang’s reaction.

Choi Seungcheol? He knows that man.

And before he could join the conversation, Hayeon’s phone rings, and of course, her phone is pink, with a big ribbon at the back. Hmm, would she like pink flowers? Maybe–

[Shit, Hayeon, I’m not fucking pregnant!]

Yangyang spits the coffee in his mouth, and Haechan chokes on his own drink upon hearing the loud voice over Hayeon’s phone. The girl just froze, looking up at them with wide eyes, and then closing in her shoulders in embarrassment.

“H-hey, hi! I’m with friends,” She answers meekly, putting the phone off of the speaker.

Yangyang covers his grin over his coffee, Haechan acting like he heard nothing.

What a weird conversation starter.

“You’re at the campus? What? Now?” Hayeon says in panic. Haechan was alert in his seat, in case Hayeon needed him to come along.

And as expected, she now started to gather her bag, “Sorry, guys but I have to go. My friend’s somewhere the campus and I need to find her,”

“D’you need me with you?” Haechan offers, but deep inside him, he just wanted to lay down somewhere. All that heavy lifting made him tired– the caffeine getting him even more exhausted.

“No, not really, Channie.” The sudden nickname elicits a hue of pink in his cheeks, getting him flustered. No one ever calls him that.

Yangyang on his side snorts, eliciting an elbow from Haechan making him hiss. “I’ll text you, okay, sweets?”

“Alright, bye, guys!” And off she goes, with her elegant strides, she walks away.

“Channie– what the fuck was that?” Yangyang burst out laughing, but Haechan was still.

“I think I’m hard.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Three weeks.

“I’m starting to lose eyesight on my ears– and I’m fucking chafing bro!” He cries at Jeno, who’s just focused on his game, unbothered by the grown ass man crying behind him.

This has been officially, since he lost his virginity, the longest Haechan went without sex and he’s about to explode.

“But I can’t– not when it’s not her. Fuck, man, why can’t she just put out!”

Haechan pulls at his hair, frustrated and horny. He doesn’t know what to do– he wanted Hayeon, that’s for sure, but at the same time, old habits die hard, and there’s only so much his hands can do.

He knew Hayeon wants him too– that’s just obvious. However, she just doesn’t allow him to take a step further, and duh, he’ll never do anything that she doesn’t want, so it leaves him where he’s at. Delirious.

“Jeno!” He whines again, this time, tapping his friend on the shoulders.

Jeno moves his headset from his ear a bit, looking at him. “What?”

“You weren’t listening all this time?!”

Jeno, eyebrows lifted and clueless, shrugged before going back on his game.

“You fucking bitch,” Haechan murmured before walking out the room.

He was about to take a cold shower, as always, but then his phone pinged.

[11:01pm] hayeonnie: hi haechannie, wanna come over?

As if electrified, Haechan straightened up, quickly bolted out of their apartment.

There’s only one reason why she would invite him over, no? At this time, too? Haechan can feel legit excitement on his body as he drives to her apartment.

He stood outside her apartment door, inhaling deep to calm himself down, and adjusting his already hard dick struggling in his skinny jeans.

[11:12pm] haechan: im here @ ur door, sweets ;))

Taking a look at his phone camera and fixing his hair, he waits.

After a minute, she replied.

[11:13pm] hayeonnie: omg, already? im out buying our snacks but the door should be unlocked u can w8 in my room !!

He stood there a little confused, but he understood quickly, because he did sprint to get here. His sneakers didn’t even touch the ground. He’s that desperate.

He texted a simple ‘okay’ and attempted to turn the knobs, and thankfully, it was unlocked.

Her apartment was cold, but definitely lived in. The few sweaters lying around the couch and the succulents decorated on every corner made the room cozy, really different when Haechan helped her move in a couple of weeks ago.

What caught his eye was a couple extra home slippers by the door, one bedazzled pink and the other plain white, with a hotel branding on its side. Huh, maybe her roommates finally here.

Haechan sat carefully on the couch, checking his pockets for something really important.

Pulling the foil out of his front pocket, he made sure he brought not one, but three condoms.

“Okay,” He sighs and finally sinks into the sofa. He can relax now, he’s ready. He’s just waiting for his girl!

As soon as he felt comfortable, his entire body jolts when he heard one of the door open.

“The fuck?” His brows furrowed as he sees a tall man shirtless walking mindlessly to the kitchen counter.

When he got a good lighting on his face, his eyes widened.

It’s Choi Seungcheol.

It’s Choi motherfucking Seungcheol!

He never even saw this man in person, but the stories he heard about the infamous Sacred Heart Alumni was crazy. Apparently, he hosted the most wildest party that went down in history, and ever since then, he led the Carat House which rivaled NCU’s biggest frat. A quarterback that had the entire season in his palm— and because of that, NCU looked at him as an enemy.

So yeah, as an NCU home grown, he was taught that Choi Seungcheol is kind of the villain.

He didn’t realize how bad he’s staring at the man, until he looked at him in the eyes with a sour expression.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Seungcheol with his deep voice asks. Haechan blinks,

“Nothing–”

“Are you here for y/n? I hate to break it to you but she’s not seeing anyone else anymore. So I suggest get your ass out before I fucking–”

“No! N-No, I don’t even know her. I’m here for Hayeon, uh, she’s out for a bit but she’s on her way back.” Haechan defends himself, and he hated the way he spoke in panic. He’s losing his cool, damn if anyone could see him pissing himself infront of another man, he'd be ruined.

Seungcheol says nothing but nods, before grabbing his shirt which somehow, was under the table.

“Just making things clear. You don’t want to mess with me, boy.” Seungcheol says and smirks, before leaving the apartment.

When Haechan finally loosens up, that’s when he realize he’s been holding his breath the entire conversation. When the door finally closed, he shakes his head.

“Fucking bitch. I’d break his pretty little lips open if he’d said one more word but I’m– Jesus fucking christ!”

“He’s out?”

“Jesus!”

A girl peeped through the other bedroom door,as he holds his chest in surprise. What the hell is happening?!

“Oh, sorry. My bad,” The girl says, gritting her teeth.

Haechan still holding his chest, looked up at the girl. His knees almost turned jelly because holy shit, this girl is so fucking gorgeous.

And if he could only speak, the first word that would fall of his lips was–

“Damn,”

“What?”

Oh, fuck, did he say it out loud?

“Nothing– shit, yeah he’s.. uh, out.” Haechan straighten up his posture, putting his hands on his pockets and clearing his throat to gain composure back.

“Oh thank god, I don’t know how long I pretended to be asleep for his ass to get a hint,” You sigh, finally letting your entire body out the room and walk past him like he’s not standing there.

Even your voice sounded hot. It was deeper than Hayeon’s, with a slight scratch at your words as if you’d just got done singing at the karaoke for hours. It sounded so fucking hot in his ears.

You went to the kitchen, grabbed you a coke in a can and opened it with your teeth. The mere sounds of your actions was the only thing keeping the room less awkward.

“Lee Haechan, was it?”

“Yeah.. how’d you know?”

“Hayeon tells me everything. Also the fact that you’re pretty famous in this school,” You chuckle at your own words, and he can’t help but feel a little intimidated but definitely… something else.

Sure, one of the reason is because you look like you’re not wearing pants under your oversized shirt, but it’s more in how you handle yourself. You look like you don’t care about anything.

“Y-yeah but not anymore tho.. I’m straightening up.. you know, Hayeon likes good guys so,” He doesn’t even know why he’s panicking to explain.

“Sure she does. By the way, you didn’t see Seungcheol here, alright? Nothing gets out of this apartment,” You walked towards the couch where Haechan stood, and his body tensed.

He gets a whiff of a powdery scent, like some kind of delicate perfume you had on and usually he prefers fruity ones but he’s starting to like this one more.

“You know that the entirety of NCU hates him, right?” He acts nonchalant.

“I understand your lack of tolerance with him, yes. That’s exactly why,” You pause when you get near enough, “–you, Lee Haechan, won’t say anything about it. Besides, we broke up so I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem.”

There’s something in the way you say his name, like it meant different. It felt strange, he’s used to hearing his name said with anger, adoration or pleasure, but with your voice, it just sounded… weird.

Before he could ponder about it further, the door opened, revealing the girl he had went here for. Right, Hayeon.

“Haechannie! I see you met y/n.” Hayeon were quick to step in between him and you.

There’s an awkward tinge in her face, as she smiles way too big, stretching her lips to appear enthusiastic. Haechan didn’t notice, but he definitely felt like him and Hayeon should just go inside her room.

“You’re right, Hayeon, he is a cutie.” You say, with the most obvious sarcasm.

“Right. Uh, we’ll go,” Hayeon gripped Haechan’s wrist, pulling him with her inside his room and before she could even close the door, his eyes found yours, and maybe he was hallucinating, but he definitely saw you look at him too.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You lied.

You don’t think Haechan is cute.

You think he’s fucking hot.

His golden skin and his perfect lips made you almost quiver in fear, that you might just have the hots for your best friend’s man. Which even for a woman like you, is a low blow. You don’t want to be the girl who fucks a man whose spoken for.

So you tossed it to you being horny. Maybe Seungcheol didn’t do enough, maybe if you’d seen a different person standing on your living room, you’d feel bothered too. It’s not Haechan– no, it can’t be him.

Because if it is him, then you’ve got a real big problem. Especially the next day, when Hayeon told you the news.

“I agreed to be his girl, and we did it.”

Normally, you’d congratulate her because she doesn’t have that many ex boyfriends and she’s the type to take a relationship seriously. After a few years of being single– she finally has a man, again.

But damn, you’ll be lying if that didn’t annoy you one bit. How’d Hayeon get to him first? Ugh.

[NCU’s like… really big. Just avoid him a little bit and it’d be fine.] Your friend, who is probably the person you trust the most, talks across the phone.

“Jurin, he’s literally my roommate’s boyfriend. I can’t even get away from him in my own fucking apartment.” You say, walking around the campus trying to find the auditorium, for one of your lectures. Jurin made a point, this campus is enormous compared to SHU.

[I don’t know what to tell ‘ya, he is fine, and it’s your fault for missing the first day and he happened to see Hayeon first.]

Finally, you seem to see the entrance to the auditorium, but you’re not sure. You try to look at your schedule, “To be fair, it’s just my first week here. Maybe there’s someone else I could obsess over–”

“That’s auditorium hall three, Prof Watson’s lecture?”

You turn to see a boy, with baggy jeans, a baggy shirt, a snapback worn backwards with a headphone barely hanging on it, a laptop on one hand, and a skateboard on the other. You wanted to scoff, this is almost a stereotypical college dude, except he actually rocks it. You’re conflicted, if you find this hot or not.

“Oh, yeah, uh– thanks?”

“Osaki Shotaro, by the way.” He offered to shake your hand, but forgets that he’s occupied with both. That’s when you actually let out a chuckle.

[Hello?? Just find somebody to fuck to get your mind off the dude,] You forget that Jurin’s still on the phone.

“Yeah, I’m gonna call you back.” You absentmindedly say before hanging up the phone.

“Y/n.” You smile at him, and with his innocent eyes, he smiled back.

୨♡୧

“That was.. Wow.” Shotaro sighed in satisfaction, combing his hand across his hair.

You smirked at him, finding it adorable how he’s reacting to what just happened about three minutes ago.

Jurin was right, fucking somebody else was distracting enough to get your mind off of Haechan, but it felt like putting a band aid on a broken glass. You knew damn well you’d be back gushing about Haechan once you see him again.

“You’re great too, you know,” You say, fixing your skirt.

“Yeah sure but you… damn.” You chuckled at him.

Shotaro is hot, and shit, did he knew how to use his body. And for the first time, you had sex with a man who moans in Japanese. That was hot as fuck.

“Y’know rumors about the hottest chick from Sacred Heart went around before you transferred, and I never expected you’d even notice me in the first place,”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Oh, that’s probably Hayeon. Not me,”

You let out a laugh. Hayeon has always been crowned the most gorgeous student in SHU, and you were always out of the spotlight. Lots of people thought that you’re in her shadow, but to be honest, you like being in the dark.

You get away from a lot of things being unnoticed.

“You’re Seungcheol’s girl, right?”

You wince after hearing your ex’s name, but you were also used to this. Seungcheol and you had a past, a very bad one at that, and people often asks you about it. He was basically a celebrity in your previous school.

“Was.” You put an emphasis on the word.

“Then you’re the girl they were talking about. And to be frank, I think you’re hotter.” Shotaro claims with his chest out.

“You’re saying that because we just fucked,”

“I’m just being honest, but yeah, that too.”

Shotaro chilled in the apartment a couple more hours when you decided to order food. Of course, he insisted that he paid, and who are you to resist free food.

“The audacity to say Game of Thrones is way too boring, and here you are gushing over Harry Potter?!” Shotaro yelled playfully.

“Hey, I like what I like. Game of Thrones puts me to sleep faster than white noise,” You slurp on your Ramen, entertained over Shotaro losing his shit.

You two continued to bicker until you heard the sound of the pin to the door being opened.

The both of you looked at who’s coming, and you mentally curse seeing Haechan’s pretty face.

You roll your eyes, breathing in his overwhelming cologne that immediately surrounds the place. His leather jacket that he somehow make it work, and his tight skinny jeans that made him look taller. Fuck, this was never your type. What is wrong with you?

“Dude!” Shotaro jumps excitedly, seeing Haechan. That’s when Hayeon followed in, smiling at Shotaro but the confusion in her eyes stayed.

“What are you doing here?” Haechan says, eyes switching from Shotaro and you.

“I invited him here,” You say, trying your best to avoid his lingering stare. You felt like a highschool girl avoiding her crush. This sucks.

“You two know each other?” Hayeon asks.

“Yeah, we’re friends.” Shotaro says proudly. Dapping up Haechan as soon as he got near him. Haechan seemed suspicious, still glinting his eyes at his friend.

“You and her?” Haechan whispered ever so slightly, in hopes to not be heard by you or Hayeon.

“Yeah, dude.” Shotaro knowingly nods in excitement, as if winning a game, dragging the word ‘Yeah’ to emphasize his exhilaration.

Haechan nods, silently commending his friend for bagging you. He never knew Shotaro had it in him, to be honest.

“Really, y/n, Haechan’s friend?” Meanwhile, Hayeon pulled you aside, scolding you as soon as you were out of earshot by the two boys.

“I didn’t know he was his friend?”

“Look, I believe you, but I want this thing with Haechan to work. And I can’t have you sleeping around with his friends and risking my relationship with my boyfriend–”

“How would that risk anything? I’m literally minding my own business.” This was one thing you hated about Hayeon. She gets too controlling, everything should be in her way. That’s how she wants it.

“I don’t know, maybe your hobby of sleeping around with his close friends then ghosting them to go back to Seungcheol– Gee, I don’t know if that’d upset Haechan and lookie here–” She points at herself animatedly, “Unfortunately, I’m friends with you so who will eventually take the blame?!”

Hayeon seemed to spit harshly with her words, and it left did kind of stung. Hayeon is nice, kind and caring, but there are times where she sure knows how to make people feel bad. Lucky for you, you’re one of the people who suffers from this side of her.

“Unfortunately– huh. Okay.” You smile bitterly at her, before grabbing your wrist back from her grip.

“Don’t worry, Hayeonnie. I’d step away from his friends, I wouldn't want to jeopardize your one week relationship with him. And I mean this from the bottom of my heart, I hope you shove Haechan so far up your ass, in that case, you’d be together forever, you psycho.”

You, on the other hand, never claimed to be nice.

As you walk away, you stare extra hard at her, and that’s when you see the familiar look in her eyes.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The difference of being in a new school compared to your old one, is that here, you had to start from scratch.

Yes, people here in NCU might’ve heard something about new students from SHU, given the famous rivalry between two schools and students who love getting dirt from each other, but you still need to build your persona from level zero.

“Word around here is that you’re apparently the hottest chick from Sacred Heart.” Juyeon, your seatmate in one of your classes.

“Apparently? Are you not sure?” You huffed.

He tilts his head to the side, “Don’t get me wrong, you are hot. But I’ve always thought you’d immediately jump on either Haechan or Jaemin once you moved here,”

You let out a chuckle. This man has no idea. You for sure would’ve jumped on Haechan. Your timing just fucked you over.

“Well, Haechan’s with my friend now so he’s out of the picture. Jaemin’s sexy, but not my type.”

“Meh, I’d give Haechan a month before he gets bored.” Juyeon shrugged.

You look back at him with intrigue, “Is he that much of a fuckboy?”

“He’s the worst out of the four of them. Haechan is infamous for fucking girls left and right. Jaemin is a close second, but Haechan? That man is a monster.”

You don’t know whats wrong with you, but your entire body suddenly turns warm over hearing Haechan’s reputation. You shift in your seat, contemplating a lot of things. Nasty things.

“Yeah? That bad, huh.” You clear your throat.

“Yep. But hey, heard he blocked all his girls for Hayeon. Made her an official girlfriend too. That got to count for something. Maybe he’s a changed man.”

Changed man your ass. “Nobody really changes, Juyeon. They just mask their true color. That isn’t changing, that’s just faking.”

The attention you received was nice at first, but as it went on, it felt irritating. Everybody just wants to talk to you and get to know you, despite the fact that you’ve made it clear that you’d rather keep to yourself.

You don’t know how Hayeon, or even Haechan does it.

They instantly became the power couple after a few more weeks of dating– and surprisingly, it seemed to be going on smoothly. They were both popular, Hayeon climbing up the status quo extra quick now that she has Haechan.

You? Oh, you tried to lie low, go back to what you had before, and at least try to stop ogling your friend’s boyfriend. It was just annoying before, but now it kind of starting to affect you.

Every time he’s in the apartment, it’s like he made it his mission to fuck Hayeon so hard that her moans sounded concerning, and in about an hour or two, you’ll see them cuddling in the couch watching a movie you’re sure they’ve seen before. Like, hell, who haven’t seen the Notebook?

“We’re ordering in, you want some?” Hayeon kindly asks, one time when you catch them on the kitchen counter.

You just woke up from your nap, and as soon as you see them making out in the kitchen, you almost want to knock yourself out.

“Nope. I’m actually craving for…” You take a look at your limited choice of cereal, “Fruit loops.”

“Hmmkay, I’ll head down stairs to get some packages, I swear they never bring my packages up here. Babe, please go with me?” The sickening baby voice she uses left you cringing, and all you can do is to fill your mouth up with a spoon full of cereal. This’ll keep you from saying shit you’d regret.

“My legs are about to give up, babe, we went for an hour of dog–”

You almost spit out your cereal, freezing over what Haechan just almost said. Are they fucking kidding you?

“–Cardio.” Haechan’s attempt at covering his sentence went unuseful, because you’re not dumb. You knew what he meant.

“Heh, okay, babe. Can you wait in my room?”

You see him furrow his brows at his girlfriend, “Can’t I wait here?”

Hayeon didn’t say anything, but her eyes said a lot more. She looks at you as if she’s seeing a problem with your presence around her boyfriend, without her in the room. She looks back at him, and sighed. “I’ll be right back,”

Once she closed the door, that’s when you chuckled. Same old Hayeon.

“That’s weird,” Haechan starts.

“That’s just how she is. Don’t worry,” You say casually, as if what she pertained to isn’t about you. Because it’s always about you.

“What do you mean?”

“She doesn’t trust me around men, she thinks I’ll jump every dick I came across to– specially you, her boyfriend,” The exaggerated tone you added to the term boyfriend was prominent. Saying it just annoyed you.

“Oh.. that’s.. that’s crazy. How’s you and Shotaro?” You didn’t want to read into his demeanor, and how fast he changes the topic, so you just grin.

“Meh, one time thing. Don’t worry tho, he’s a sport. Don’t want to break any friend dynamics you have with your circle,”

“Why would you break the dynamics?”

“Your friend Yangyang hit me up last night– and I almost gave in, but I think Hayeon is right, I don’t want to mess with your friends.” You say absent mindedly.

“I mean, they’re grown ass adults, it’s up to them if they let some girl break the friendship.” He casually blurts out, not even thinking of what he just said.

You catch a tiny bit of offense to it, “Some girl?”

He immediately raises his eyebrows in shock of his own word, blinking rapidly. “No! No, what I mean is it’s okay to do whatever you like! They have to deal with their own shit and it’s on them if they let it affect anything,”

You nod. Why does he seem nervous? This wasn’t what you expected from him at all. People says he’s over confident and cocky, but why is he stuttering in front of you now?

“Besides, your school is a lot bigger than Sacred Heart, I’m sure there's plenty of men that I can have. It’s not that hard to avoid your friend group,”

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely.” He clears his throat, for what seemed to be the nth time.

“I mean, I could, technically, go for your friend– Jaemin, was it?” You don’t know why, but you lied. Mainly to get a reaction out of him, indulging into your little theory.

“What? No. Not him, he’s obsessed with the art kid from SHU. Jeonghan’s friend?” His explanation seems valid. You bit your lip. You were expecting a lot more.

“Jeonghan’s ex? The girl who slept with Sir Nakamoto?” You asks, intrigued at the sudden mention of the girl you once knew from your previous school.

“Yeah! That one!”

You smirk in amusement, “Huh. Small world.”

“Yeah so definitely not Jaemin. Or Jeno, Or Renjun. Nope. They already have their own girl.” He says in finality, shaking his head.

You chuckle at his expression. He’s so damn cute. You just want to… fuck.

“Alright, chill. I’ll step back from your friends. God, you sound just like Hayeon.”

He flinched over the mention of his own girlfriends name. He looked like he forgot about her for a second there, but you don’t let yourself believe that. You’re just feeding into your delusions.

You drink the milk that’s left in your bowl, and when you bring it back down to the counter, you see Haechan’s gaze lowering in your face, stopping right where your lips are.

“You got some, uh–”

You point at your lips, “Oh,” you lick the milk mustache above your upper lip, all while Haechan watches.

Shit, this looks like an introduction to some porn. You didn’t even mean to do it, you swear!

He clears his throat again, “B-but… would you tho?”

You raise your brow at his sudden question.

“Would I.. what?”

“J-jump.. on my… d-dick?”

Slowly, the smirk you had before shows again.

“Oh, Haechan, that’s not a nice question to ask your girlfriend’s friend, now is it?”

“I-I was just–”

“Finally! I ran up here as fast as I could, what are you two talking about?” Hayeon’s catching her breath, quickly stepping between you and Haechan, effortlessly breaking the thick tension between you two.

You, on the other hand, managed to break your eyes away from the boy and walked to the sink to wash your bowl.

“Fruit loops,” you lie.

Haechan was still standing there, trying to amuse his girlfriend, as if he didn’t just ask you if you would jump on his dick a minute ago.

“Yeah, fruit loops.” He whispers as he takes a deep breath.

Things just got way more interesting.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Haechan doesn’t know what it is. Maybe he’s just really tired, maybe the exams are slowly getting to him.

He laughs. He doesn’t give a fuck about the exams.

“I don’t like your friend, Renjun. His smile seems so fake when he smiles at me,” Hayeon says through her teeth.

“Nah, that’s how he is on everybody. He doesn’t even smile at me,” Hayeon snuggled more onto his side as they continued watching the Kissing Booth.

“I guess you know him better, but still, can you tell him to be nice?”

Haechan just nods at her. Renjun is nice, only to people who’s nice to him. However, in Hayeon’s case, Renjun is still doubting his relationship with her. Something about being way too quick, or way too forced.

And even tho Haechan doesn’t show it that much, he does value Renjun’s judgement among all of his friends. He trusts him to see through all his actions, and think of what’s best for him.

But, of course, he still insist that his relationship with Hayeon will work. Because it needs to work. He’s not gonna embarrass himself after chasing this woman for so long— only for him to break up in a month.

“Let’s go to bed?” Finally, the awful movie ended, and a sense of relief washes over him. He hated the Kissing Booth.

“I’ll do the thing that you like..” Hayeon whispered lowly in his ears, making him smirk. She knows exactly how to get his attention.

However, before they could even get walk to Hayeon’s room, the front door swung wide open, revealing a huffing figure stomping inside.

You’re angry—no, you’re actually fuming. And it all made sense when he saw whoever followed you into the apartment.

“Fuck you!” You yelled as you threw your bag on the floor.

Seungcheol brushed his hands through his hair as he strides big steps towards you. Haechan frowned at how aggressive Seungcheol was approaching you and he was about to interfere, when Hayeon tightened her grip at his wrist.

“Don’t– they do this all the time. Let’s just go in,” She says quietly.

“Get out of my fucking apartment, Choi Seungcheol.” You say, voice cut deeply, eyes closed as if trying to gather patience.

“What were you doing with that Soohyun, huh? Throwing ass like I’m not fucking in the same room?!” Seungcheol shouted, pointing at you as if you were nothing. Haechan flinched everytime he sees Seungcheol almost touch you.

“We’re over, weeks ago, you delusional fuck! You’re fucking stalking me— it’s like you have a fucking tracking device, weirdo!”

“If you think we’re over, think again, bitch. I made you. I own you. You can do whatever you want, switch schools, create a whole new personality, but the truth is, you’re still the same fucking slut for me.”

“That’s–” Haechan was supposed to get in between you and Seungcheol, but a forceful tug on his wrist made him stumble back to Hayeon’s room.

”Leave it, Haechan. It’s not our business!” Hayeon then slammed the door shut.

“That’s your friend, babe! He’s going to hurt her!”

“It’s their problem, Haechan! They’re always like this! That’s how they are! An hour from now, they’re gonna be fucking like rabbits next door, trust me.”

He doesn’t know what to feel. Did they see the same thing? Did she not see how aggressive that guy is towards you? How can Hayeon let her friend get treated that way?

Haechan was straight up dumbfounded.

Maybe it’s a Sacred Heart thing. He’s heard some of the crazies went there. Maybe you’re one of them.

But every minute that had passed, he felt like his ears was hyper alert. His eyes wandered around the thin wall separating Hayeon’s room to where you are.

Another muffled scream, followed by a thud that sounded like something being thrown across the room. It felt like a telenovela, a drama that he used to watch.

“They’ve been like that forever. Y/n always leaves, but Seungcheol always chases. It’s a cycle, and you should be used to it, because no matter how bad they get, they’ll still end up together.” Hayeon further explained.

But he still doesn’t get it. He only saw a fracture of your relationship with that man and he could already tell it’s not a very healthy relationship, a dangerous one at that, and Hayeon, who’s apparently supposed to be your friend, witnessing this for a long time— thinks this is okay?

“Don’t worry, babe, okay? It’s fine.” Hayeon’s attempt at calming him down did little to nothing. Not when the silence that followed sounded terrifying.

Turns out, Hayeon was right.

The angry curses, the yelling, and the aggression earlier was completely gone— replaced by the same words, just different way of expressing them.

Haechan hears a very different types of curses next door now. The rhythmic banging on the wall adds to it all, and all he can think of are you graphic moans filling up his brain.

Haechan was rightfully confused. However, confusion isn’t the only one swimming in his system, there was something else. Hearing you get fucked less than five feet away from him left an unnamed sensation he was scared to confront.

So, he did was he does best. He distracted himself by focusing on the girl he’s with, the girl who he should only think about.

Yet, despite his eagerness to erase whatever thought he had, Haechan was never a strong willed person. He admits that he’s mentally weak, that he’s a slave to his own body.

So when his brain was focused on Hayeon, his body reacted differently.

Because every time he hears you moan, his hips involuntarily thrust– and then everything else just happened without him thinking about anything, just desperately seeking release. He listened to every cry you made, every breath you take.

“Ah,” He moans deeply, eyes closed shut as he tried to scrape the bottom of the barrel and listen intently to your whimpering next door.

“Harder,” Your faint voice kept him going.

Not Hayeon’s, no one else but yours.

“Hm-hmm,” He bit his lip as he followed your order, thrusting with extra vigor. He kept his words vague, not letting Hayeon figure out what the fuck is in his head.

“Cum,” You muttered more incoherent words but he takes what he could understand. And as if in command, he cums. Hard.

The moment he opens his eyes,

“God, what’s with you tonight!” Hayeon giggles in satisfaction, catching her breath. Once he was back in his senses, a huge wave of guilt washed over him.

Did he… just fucked his girlfriend to the thought of you?

He shakes his head violently, as if the idea of him doing it could fall out of his memories.

Haechan was a pervert. He never denied it. But this… this just made him feel dirty. He’d admit, he isn’t the nicest, but come on, he’s a decent human being–sometimes.

“Where are you going?” Hayeon asks when she looks at him.

He grabbed his jacket, “Renjun called.” He didn’t.

“Uh, okay?”

And for the first time, Haechan didn’t bother to look at her eyes before he walked out her room.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Haechan had already heard of every insult he can imagine, and he never finds it in himself to care. Heck, sometimes, he takes pride for being called a manwhore. In his mind, that’s just another way of saying he gets so much pussy, that people felt the need to give him the title.

But this time, it’s different. He didn’t hear it, he felt it.

This was the first time he felt a tiny bit of shame. And it doesn’t feel good, like, at all.

He struggles to even admit that what people thought of him was true. That he cannot handle being in a serious relationship longer than a couple months.

He could’ve sworn that what he felt with Hayeon was true, it was intense, it was a different feeling than the girls he had before. But then you came along, and ruined everything.

Any chance of Haechan finally finding his true love crumbled upon his feet, all because of you.

That’s it, you’re a curse. A curse he needs to avoid at all costs.

“Woah, you look like shit.” Renjun sat beside him, carrying a shit-eating grin only a true friend could show.

“Shut up, I’m in a predicament.” He brushed Renjun off.

“Predicament? Big word for elmo,”

“Aish–” He hits Renjun, softly, of course, and Renjun just laughed. Seeing Haechan visibly distressed somehow intrigued him, because Haechan never worries about anything, at all.

“Is it Hayeon?” He asks casually.

Haechan sat straight, coughing– “Nope! Not at all– me and my girlfriend are very happy together.” Haechan frantically shakes his head, smiling as if a gun is pointed to his head.

“O-kay? Calm down, freak.” Renjun proceeds to take out his laptop.

Haechan rolls his eyes, but as soon as he focuses on the door of the lecture hall, his breathing hitches.

You entered, hiding under a black hoodie, head hanging low. You clutch your bag as if someone’s out to take it from you. Your steps are calculated, but rushed at the same time.

Odd, Haechan muttered deep in his breath.

However, even after being intrigued by your peculiar demeanor, Haechan didn’t approach you. Not that you care tho— this is only one of two classes he shares with you. It’d be easy to avoid you, right?

Wrong. In some shit luck, for the semester’s first project by pair, his name just had to be called after yours.

Biting his lip as he strides to reach you, he took a deep breath before actually approaching you. You had this dark aura, ever since the start of the lecture. Haechan couldn’t name it.

“W-we’re partners,” There’s the fucking stuttering again. He swears this is all your fault.

About three seconds passed before you finally acknowledge him, like you’ve been pulled out of a trance. You snap at Haechan, but the wary eyes turned soft as soon as your eyes connects with him.

“Yeah. R-right, uh– let’s just do it in the apartment, so we’d both be comfortable since you basically live with us too.” The pathetic attempt of smirking did little to nothing, to cover the puffy eyes you desperately hid.

But then again, Haechan’s not in the place to ask you whats wrong. He doesn’t want to be concerned, nor does he want to care. It’s not like you’re someone to him. Psh, you’re just his girlfriend’s best friend.

Jesus fucking christ.

“K.” He slings his bag on his shoulders, and spins around to walk away.

What you didn’t see is how tight he grips the strap of his bag until his knuckles turned white, and his breathing shakes as soon as he left.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

This won’t do.

Ever since he got to your apartment, all you said to him was ‘Hi,’ and you never talked to him again if it’s not about the project. Worst, you keep your words as minimum as possible, and your hand trembles every time you type in your laptop.

There’s no way you’re okay. You’re avoiding his stares, you’re refusing to hold a conversation even for a minute.

Haechan should be glad, you make it easier for him to avoid you, but instead of relief, Haechan is faced with worry.

You’re not acting like you. Your usual confident and carelessness was replaced by whatever this is.

He curses in his head, before slamming his laptop close.

“Let’s take a break,” He says.

You shake your head, “We’re almost done,”

“I know, so we should take a break,”

“Haechan—“

“You look like you’re gonna shatter any second now, y/n. So let’s take a fucking break.” Haechan’s stern voice was a rare occurrence, but he needed to be assertive.

You gulped and finally take off your hands off the keyboard.

“Are you okay?” Haechan carefully asked, as to not make you uncomfortable.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,”

This time, your eyes glare at him. Haechan blinks, trying to hold a stare but he couldn’t. Your bloodshot eyes was trying to suck him in.

“Seungcheol… he’s not a bad guy.” You started off and immediately, Haechan didn’t like where you were going.

“Is he why you.. look like that?”

“I look like a what?”

“Like you’re on the verge of breaking down,”

“Haechan-ah… tell me. Are you happy?” In an innocent mind, this question seems simple. In Haechan’s mind, this felt loaded.

“S-sure..”

Is he really? Pff, no. He accepted the fact that he might not really be inlove with his girlfriend and dove into a committed relationship head first way too fast and now he’s on a position that might just ruin his new found reputation of being a good guy. So, yeah, no.

“I’m glad. Cuz I’m really not.. Seungcheol was my safe choice, but when he gets like this.. it’s not fun. So I decided to leave him, for good. But I realized that no one’s on my team now that he’s gone.” You sounded so off. Like you weren’t yourself. Haechan couldn’t bear it, so he looked away.

“I’m on your team,” He softly says, hopefully sounding less cringy.

“Really? Haechan-ah?” Okay, he really doesn’t like it when you call him Haechan. It sounds so.. unfamiliar.

“Yep. Me, Hayeon, and all your friends are here for you.” He didn’t like saying his girlfriend’s name whilst talking to you, but he knew he had to draw some kind of line. Just in case you get the wrong idea, or worse, he gets the wrong idea.

You let out an awkward laugh. He doesn’t understand which part of this you find funny at all.

“Right. Hayeonnie.” This time, it sounded like you hated her name. Like it didn’t need to be in the conversation.

“So.. promise me you’ll never go back to Seungcheol again, okay? He’s a bad guy,” He exaggerated a scolding tone just to lighten up the mood but it didn’t do much.

You just nodded– looking like you just wanted to end the conversation.

Thankfully, a notification from his phone breaks the dead silence. He used it as an excuse to escape.

[7:03pm] hayeon: I’m at my sisters, babe. Aren’t u going to Yang’s party tonight?

He sighs. Right, his loving girlfriend.

He can’t just leave you all alone, can he? Not when you’re in this state, not when you’re not okay.

This isn’t even about his problem with you anymore. Any decent human being wouldn’t leave a poor girl all alone when she clearly needs someone.

“Come with us to Yangyang’s party. Take your mind off of things.”

“I–”

“It’s either you go or I’ll drag you with us.”

There was another pause, silence filled with tension you could cut through with a knife. You didn’t say anything but sighed, basically confirming to Haechan that you’ll go.

You guess you needed a little distraction.

“I’ll be there.” You softly whisper. You closed your laptop, and stood up from the coffee table straight to your room.

As soon as the door clicks, Haechan catches his breath. He doesn’t realize he’s been holding it in everytime you look at him. Thank God you didn’t notice it.

This will do him good. It’ll clear his mind, and in no time, he’ll be back in his girlfriend’s arms. You’ll be busy with other people and you’ll be out of his sight. Yeah.

[8:56pm] hayeon: Can’t go to Yang’s tonight babe :( My sister needs me to help with something. See you tomorrow?

He was about to reply, when another message popped up in his phone.

[8:57pm] yangyang: u better come to my party !! bring ur gf or wtv.. make sure she brings y/n too haha

[8:57pm] haechan: im going, but hayeon cant go. y/n will be there.

[8:58pm] yangyang: fuck yeah dude i cant w8 to see her!!!

Why is Yangyang so obsessed with you? Didn’t you say you turned him down already? Well, knowing Yangyang, he does get a bit infatuated with someone that does so much as give him the time of day, but come on. You already said no to him, right?

Haechan reminds himself to reply to Hayeon, but his mind was somewhere else.

So he never did.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“It’s been so long seeing you without your girl, dude!” Yangyang excitedly put his arms around Haechan, almost choking the guy. In return, Haechan elbowed him slightly, just to get the guy off of him.

“You’re choking me, asshole.”

“Huh, could’ve sworn you’re a little bit into that.” Yangyang joked, earning a hefty hit from Haechan.

He kinda get Yangyang tho. It has been a while since he attended some party without Hayeon by his side, and honestly, it kinda brought back a vibe in him. Only this time, he needs to be careful.

The hushed whispers of girls upon seeing him alone was noticeable, some even saying that maybe Hayeon’s out of the picture. He needed to clear things up before everybody misunderstood.

“My girlfriend, Hayeon is at her family house. She’ll be with me tomorrow.” He says very loudly, for everybody to hear.

He doesn’t know why he felt the need to prove others wrong, but one things for sure. He’s not going to mold himself to the expectations of him not being able to keep one girl for a long time.

“Alright, man, no need to yell.” Shotaro popped in his right.

“Where have you been?” Yangyang asked.

“Y/n’s over at the hallway with Soohyun. I think she’s wasted, dude.”

Haechan’s ears perked with the mention of your name. You’re here earlier than him? And you’re already wasted?

So what? Not my responsibility. Haechan says to himself. He grabs one of the shots on the counter and downed it straight. Haeving, he goes and takes another.

“Slow down, stupid!” Jeno appears beside him, chuckling a bit.

He shakes his head. No, no, no, no, no.

“Are you okay?” Renjun asks, this time more seriously. He had never seen Haechan being in distress for long periods of time, and never this conflicted. He knew Haechan like the back of his hand.

“I’ll get over it.” Voice rasp, Haechan walks away from his friends.

He rings his girlfriend one time, only to be answered by a robotic voice telling him she’s busy. He tried it again, but the result was the same.

Every shot he encountered, he drank. He can’t really handle anything without being sober, let alone think about you while being sane. He’ll go crazy.

But then the when the alcohol hits, his thoughts got more even insane. Batshit. He can fucking hear your voice now.

Your screams, when you were fighting with Seungcheol.

Your moans, when he was pounding you to oblivion.

Your tears, when you yelled profanities.

And your fucking words that made Haechan cum that night. The same fucking words that he knew wasn’t meant for him, but he took it as if you whispered in his ear.

“Fuck!” He screams out of frustration. He felt disgusted with his own thoughts.

“Haechan?”

Man these walls must be talking ‘cuz he swear he just heard yo–

He turned around to see you, and he can’t pin what his exact feeling the moment your eyes met. He was relieved for a split second, then he suddenly felt tense because it was like he manifested you to appear in front of him.

“Y/n–”

“Look who decides to show up without his pet.” Another voice popped from behind you, however, he can’t think of anyone else but your flushed face.

“Didn’t you miss me, Haechannie? Come on, I know your girl doesn’t compare..” It was a drunk Gaeun, stumbling past you, managing to nudge your shoulders.

Her hands finds Haechan’s shoulders, putting her entire weight pulling him down to her level.

He was in panic mode. You were just standing there, visibly disturbed, rightfully so, as Haechan tried to push Gaeun away as respectfully as he can.

“Gaeun, pleas–”

“Are you fucking insane?” Your voice thundered as your hand pulled the drunk girl away from him. His eyes widened, feet frozen as he sees you drag the girl away from him.

“Get your hands off me! Haechan!” Gaeun screamed for him, but he can’t really do anything, he’s still, fascinated at the scene in front of him. Are you.. jealous?

But when he notice the moment escalates and you’re now dragging Gaeun by her hair, he jumped into action and gently tried to pull your wrist away. “Let go,”

Your sharp eyes turned to him, still in attack mode, but you took one deep breath and let go of her hair. A sobbing mess, Gaeun runs away from you.

“You’re really gonna let her be all over you like that? What if I wasn’t here?!”

“Y/n–”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m gonna let you cheat on Hayeon with a bitch like her–”

“Then who else?”

His hands aren’t on the steering wheel anymore, and any control he had– he threw it all away.

“W-what?”

The game was over. Haechan forfeits, this isn’t something he can deny any longer.

Haechan, still holding your wrist, pulled you closer to his body.

“Who would you rather me cheat on her with?”

“Hae–”

“Nope. Wrong name. Come on, say it.” He completely turned off the switch. He basically slashed the throat of the angel that gives him the conscience he’s been holding on so tight, and grabbed the devil’s hands.

This was a risky game he was playing, you could totally call him out, and tell Hayeon right away, but the other side of the spectrum is way too good to even think of the risk. You could come to him and give him a taste of what he was craving for.

“You’re drunk–”

“Were you drunk those nights when you’d stare at me when I visit Hayeon? Were you drunk when you pretend you didn’t find me hot? Or were you drunk when you moan extra louder whenever I’m around while being fucked by your boy-toy? Huh?” You couldn’t even recognize his voice at this point. He sounds so… out of it.

“That’s–”

“Being drunk has nothing to do with this, y/n. I’m gonna ask you again, you can just turn around and pretend nothing happened, and we’re just both drunk to think straight. But tell me, y/n, the truth. Didn’t you at least think about what it’s like? To be fucked properly?”

Think about it? Fuck that. You fantasized about it. Day and night. Haechan plagued your mind twenty-five-eight, and the fact that he’s inside your friend’s room instead of yours.

So yeah, you did more than thinking about it.

“This is bad..” You whimpered, lips a paperthin away from each other.

“You make me do bad things, very, very bad things. But then again, I’m not a stranger to being the bad guy.”

And just as Haechan lets the last word fall from his pretty lips, you took the bait. You shook the devil’s hand and kissed him. And from then on, you know there’s no going back.

Haechan pulled you by the waist, and your hand grips his neck to deepen the kiss. As your tongues danced to a perfect rhythm, you feel his other hand take the back of your left thigh, urging you to wrap them in his waist, signalling you to let him carry you. Which you did, you were always a good listener.

It’s crazy. You feel everything, all at once and it was so overwhelming but it felt right. Which is such a fucking lie because everything about this is wrong. It’s so wrong, but fuck it, it felt so right.

Carrying you by your ass, Haechan managed to walk inside one of the rooms, and because you’re so hyper focused on touch and what his lips are doing, you didn’t even realize that you’re already in a bed, ‘til you felt a soft texture on your back.

Haechan pulled away, and takes a second to look at you from above, “Fuck, you’re so pretty. You’ve always been prettier,”

It sounded so bad, yet so good in your ears. You can’t believe you’re hearing this from a boy who’s just a month ago, drooling over your friend.

“Shut up before we come back to our senses and realize how fucked up this is,” You murmured.

“Why do you gotta spoil the mood, baby?” He whines but still kissed you again, letting his hands roam free across your body.

His fingers stealthily pulled the hem of your shirt, letting his bare hands come in contact with your stomach which you respond with a shudder.

“Hmm, my baby’s ticklish.” He chuckled as if he just unlocked a new discovery.

He continued kissing you on your neck, you assume its to distract you from his hand slowly creeping up your bra. Which he does a bad job at because you can feel everything he’s doing. And once he came in contact with your nipple, you let out a proper moan.

“God, you even sound pretty.” You supposed you already expected him to be a talker in bed, but nobody prepared you on how good he can be at it.

“Can I take this off?” He looks at you as he tugs your shirt.

“Please,”

He smirks, “Let’s just.. take everything off, hmm?”

You eagerly nodded. You keep on thinking excuses in your head, that in some fucked up way, this is okay. That this was fine. That this is how it should be.

Before you know it, you were naked in front of him, You’re naked in front of your friend’s boyfriend.

Haechan used his arms to lift himself up, looking at your body with lust dripping from his iris, jaws slightly ajar. “Fuck.”

Not long before his hands continued roaming around your body and it felt like every single touch burned, but you loved every single sensation that came with it.

“This is bad…” You whisper, but your hands pull him closer.

“So bad,” He says, grinding his clothed member on your core, and even if the rough denim felt uncomfortable, it doesn’t compare to the pleasure that it gave you.

You see his other hand struggle to open his pants and pull ‘em down. You help him with his shirt which he gladly removed, and when you’re both exposed, that’s when he finally puts his hand to good use.

You moan at the initial contact of his fingers onto your folds. He used his free hand to get the hair out of your face, just to see every single reaction you gave him.

He deepens the contact, until you feel his long fingers sink in and thats when you curse. It felt fucking good. “Hae..chan,”

“Uh-huh,” He encourages.

His fingers went in and out, gradually going faster, and you couldn’t help but whimper. You grab his wrist when you felt like cummin, because you can’t believe he managed to make you feel this way, this quickly.

“Your hands,” He warned, so you let go. This authoritative voice he has made you feel some type of way.

He continued to move, like he knew you were in the verge. “Look at me when you cum,” He says, this time with a much softer approach.

But it was hard to open your eyes– especially when you started to feel euphoric. However, Haechan wasn’t gonna take it. He grabbed your face, forcefully making you look at him. “Open your fucking eyes, or else I’m gonna stop.”

“No, p-please.” You shake your head.

“Then look at me,” He says.

And then, you exploded. A moaning mess, you try to stop your legs from shaking but it proved to be ineffective, as they still shook from the sensation you just felt. It was different– everything felt different with him.

“Good girl,” He almost growls, “Good fucking girl,”

You were catching your breath, recovering from the mess you made. Haechan was something else. You’ve had orgasm before, but this was the first time it felt so real.

“Can I fuck you?”

There’s a shift in his voice, almost confusing you why he sounded so… whiny. You bit your lip as you look up at him and you nod.

He whispered a soft okay, guiding you to sit up. Thats when you realize he’s also naked and fuck, of course he has to be hung. There’s more to his face— that’s why girls go fucking coocoo for this man.

He sits up by the head board as he pumps his own cock in front of you, while he looks at you lustfully, as if he’s seeing his fantasy come to life. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers.

You crawl your way to him, eyes can’t help but stare at his hand desperately jerking himself off. You tap it away and he knew by then what you were trying to do. His hands instinctively go to the back of your head. He looks down at you by the tilt of his head as his jaw hangs low.

Your hand replaces his, and Haechan knew– he’s fucked. The flick of your wrist felt so good.

And then, you try and give him a tiny lick, and he could’ve sworn he almost came there and then. But he’s not a pussy– oh no, if he’s gonna come, it has to be from fucking you.

“Oh, fuck, y/n,” he moans when you finally suck him fully, gripping the remainder of his base where you can’t go even more lower. Your name falls way too familiar from his lips.

Not even a full minute of you sucking him off, he pulls you by the hair. “Need to fuck you now or I’ll come,”

“Okay,” You whisper, waiting for him to guide you what to do next.

“Ride me, baby.”

You spread your legs and straddle him. You grab his cock and line him up to your core and slowly sinks in. Both of you gasp, you from the stretch, him from the grip you had on him. It felt so right– so perfect.

“You’re made for me,” He says more to himself than you.

You gain momentum, finding a rhythm that works with the both of you. Every time you sunk down, Haechan lets out a whine– then a praise after. His words, if you’re being honest, is what kept you going besides, of course, the feeling of him being inside you.

“Baby, my god,”

“Yes,” You almost growl when you felt that you’re coming undone, again, the twist in your stomach slowly getting more intense.

“Y/n, baby, do I make you feel good?” There he goes again with his whiny voice.

“Yes,” You breathe out.

“You fuck me so good,” He moans, eyes rolling backwards. He looks so scrumptious, and you just want to ruin him.

His eyes started burning through yours, you don’t even see him blinking. Haechan does not want to miss anything on your face as he fucks you. He wants to remember every single second.

“Shit, shit,” He curses, wrapping his arm on your waist, forcing you to fall onto his chest before planting both his feet on the mattress to fuck up into you.

A high pitch moan came out of you, and you couldn’t believe you could even make that noise. Haechan takes it out of you.

“You make me– fuck, please, please– y/n,” He’s blurting out words, burying his head on your neck. You grab the headboard to balance yourself because it felt like you’re gonna fly out of the bed with the way he’s pounding onto you.

“Say my name,” He groans.

“Haecha–”

“No– Donghyuck. My name’s Donghyuck.”

“Donghyuck, please, cum in me.”

And just like a command, or a magic word, he stilled in you and you felt warm ropes painting your insides as he let out the sluttiest moan you’ve every heard from a man.

“F-fuck,”

You were shaking, but so is he.

“You’ll fucking kill me, y/n.”

Only you, him and the faint music outside these four walls are the only distraction you have as you laid beside him. And then it hit you.

“We just… fucked,”

Haechan— no, scratch that, Donghyuck, let out a snort. “Yeah we did.”

“That’s really bad,”

“It is,”

You sit up, starting to grab your clothes one by one.

After-dick clarity starts to sink in and the pleasure from before was replaced with a crashing wave of guilt.

“This is a mistake, Donghyuck.”

He brushes his hands across his face as he tried to get a hold of your wrist, to stop you.

“Then let’s keep making mistakes,” His voice was sultry. A note lower than what he usually sounds. Like when he was fuck—

No. Hayeon. Haechan and Hayeon. Fuck.

“Big ones,” He continued. You pull your hands away from him and as soon as you dressed up properly, you look at him one last time.

Half naked, he bites his lip as he matches your eyes.

“This will never happen again.” Was the last thing that you say, before slamming the door in front of his face.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Donghyuck—”

“Hmm, yeah? Feel so good, huh?”

You look at the mirror as Donghyuck pounds into you in oblivion.

Like a starved man, he locks both your arms around you back, with his hand, while his other hand is busy putting a joint in between his lips.

He hits a long drag, but not letting it affect the way he fucks into you. He’s still in so deep, and it felt euphoric. He looks at you at the mirror and smirks.

“My baby wants a hit?”

You nod, desperately at that, and he then bends over, letting his refined chest hit your back. Instantly, you felt a cool sensation from his dog-tag, but every inch of his skin was warm. Hot.

He puts the joint in between your lips, letting you drag a long one before licking the back of your ears.

“Told you it’ll double the fun when we’re high,” He whispers.

“Love it, Hyuckie, love it so much–”

“Love fucking you too, my y/n. So fucking much.”

You, also as if starving, ate all your words.

Because when you said you’ll never mess around with him, you still found him eight inches deep inside you the next week.

It happened again, and again, and again.

You know this will blow up in your face eventually– but you can’t help it when Donghyuck gives you everything you wanted. He fucks you like he owns you, like you’re the only person in his world.

And despite how many times you convince yourself that you’re a strong willed person, Donghyuck just knows how to get you. One smile, one look, and you’re on your knees for him. Your name just falls off of his lips way too smoothly, melting you into a puddle each time.

But everytime he walks out the door, an immediate wave of guilt washed over you. You hate that you can’t call him yours, even when he makes you feel like you’re his.

He was your own brand of ecstasy, taking you to places you didn’t even know existed, and even though you knew it was all in your head, pretending like it’s real for a moment, felt so addicting.

You knew not to be attached, but you also knew going into this that you’re basically setting yourself up. A suicide mission.

It doesn’t matter how perfect it felt to be with him. Give yourself an hour and you’re back to being the other woman. Because at the end of the day, you know, he’s going back to her.

“You okay, pretty?” He kisses your shoulder blade as you sat in his bed.

“Yeah,” You silently say, smiling. Hiding the fact that when he closes his eyes, you prayed he never sees her.

Because God knows that you do.

He sighs, as if he knows what you were thinking about. Of course, the elephant in the room takes up the entire space. He can’t pretend that what’s happening is normal.

“I’ll tell her soon, okay? I’ll take all the blame– just, give me time, I promise.” He gently caresses your hair.

“Hmm, okay.” Your soft smiles is why he kept coming back. You’re the most prettiest person he’d ever had, and he knows it doesn’t mean much when it comes from him, but he swears he’d never seen anyone prettier.

He just wished he had seen you first.

You don’t know when the drunken mistakes and reckless escapes turn into so much more, but you knew you were falling. Damn you for falling easily. Damn your heart for being so clumsy.

Meanwhile, Haechan knew he was in deep shit.

“Look, dude, I know I don’t usually compliment you and shit, but I’m actually proud of you for being in a relationship this long, man.” Jeno says, sincerely at that.

He liked the compliments, and this new image he had managed to create. Like he’s a great guy, like he’s finally maturing. He likes that people finally likes him, in a light he’s never been on before. But then, you just had to happen.

And Haechan just happens to like you. A lot. And now that he’s got a taste of you, he’s afraid he can’t ever get enough.

It’s so bad to the point that instead of stopping whatever is going on between you two, he’s thinking of ways how to keep you, without incriminating you. Because he’s aware that when this all blows up, it’ll be bad, not only for him, but to you too.

“Are you okay, baby?” Hayeon’s touch started to burn, it started to feel unfamiliar. And he knows he’s being a fucking douchebag, but he can’t lie to himself.

“Y-yeah, uh, Shotaro wants me to come with him to the gym.” He says some pathetic excuse to get away from her. Mostly from the guilt, that’s eating him alive.

Hayeon nods, but a glint of suspicion in her eyes lingers.

“I saw Shotaro studying at the library that day. I asked him if he was with Haechan, but he said he’d never seen him.”

That was the first time you felt the world started to shrink on you.

She was crying on your shoulder, all you could do was hold her. But your hand stung, from the blade you were willing on her back.

You weren’t always nice, but never have you imagined you could do this to her. Hayeon was your friend.

And it’s not like you didn’t avoid Donghyuck, because God knows, that you really tried to.

It was another usual Friday, where Soohyun, a senior, throws a party. It was a big deal, with him graduating this semester. He had invited you personally, and it would be strange for you to turn it down because you had never turn booze down.

But you knew he was gonna be there.

You had ignored his calls and text from last week, avoiding every instances that you might come across the Devil himself.

But hey, Soohyun’s house is big. You could probably go for a couple of hours without crossing paths with Dong— Haechan, right?

Wrong.

Because here he is, sitting across you with his hands wrapped around his girlfriend. Hayeon came in– as if a few days ago, she didn’t cry all night because of him.

They look so inlove. It was disgusting.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Soohyun popped beside you. He scootches impossibly closer, putting his arms around you.

“You’re leaving in three months, wouldn’t miss it for the world,” You say, very casually, that it almost sounded fake. Not that it isn’t, but whatever.

Soohyun continued his advances, and you just let him. It at least helped you– although very annoying, still, you’d rather have him than be stuck looking at him with her.

Soohyun is an attractive man. He’s very muscle-y yet slim, fair skin and sharp eyes. He’s one of the guys who you can’t deny that he’s certainly a catch. He’s very tall too, so, yeah, not bad at all.

Unlike someone, who’s very different from Soohyun. Sunkissed, plump lips, soft yet toned body, and tall enough where his lips meets your forehead perfectly. Voluptuous ass, cunty little waist, and most important of it all, big fucking di–

“Soohyun-ah, get up in here!” A loud voice from the main hall called out.

“Gotta greet the boys real quick, sweetheart. If you want something– help yourself at my kitchen, okay?” Soohyun pecks at your cheek. You smiled and nodded at him and watched him walk away.

Unfortunately, your eyes doesn't have anything else to look at but him. Surprisingly, he was already looking at you. However, it wasn’t the usual sweet look he gives you. He looks pissed as he grips the can of beer.

His hand wasn’t on Hayeon anymore. He was leaning back as he eyes you from across the room. Thankfully, Hayeon was busy giggling at somebody else’s joke.

You raise your left brow at him and mouthed, “What?”

He smirks, but it’s nowhere near being enthusiastic, before he pokes his tongue on his cheeks as he shakes his head.

You just roll your eyes at him and before you could even melt from all the attention he’s giving to you, you decided to escape to the kitchen for an ounce of peace.

However, you’ve only enjoyed not even a minute of peace when you feel a presence behind you. You grunt.

“So, you’re with Soohyun now, huh?” Haechan says in his deep voice.

“Not your business,”

He let out a chuckle in disbelief, “When does it become my business? When I’m fucking you from behind?”

Your eyes widen at his sudden burst, as if you two aren’t in the same vicinity of his fucking girlfriend.

“Are you insane?! Hayeon’s right there!”

“You make me insane! You were all over that fucking assface– in front of me. When you know damn well that I–” He manages to stop himself. Haechan bit his lip, before taking a deep breath to calm himself down.

“What, Haechan? What were you gonna say?” Your eyes started to burn, but no tears yet. Not yet.

He sniffs, shaking his head and let it fall down as if to hide his eyes. “You weren’t… reading my texts, you weren’t.. answering my fucking calls. I tried following you through your classes but you’re just too fucking good in pretending that I don’t exist. I’m.. going crazy, y/n.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes and ears. His voice is shaking and he won’t look you in the eye. Is he.. crying?

“Please, don’t go with Soohyun. Please don’t sleep with him, don’t kiss him or do anything with him. I’m begging you– because I don’t think I can handle it.” He whispers, but you’ve heard everything. The frustration and sadness in his voice made it impossible for you to not hear it.

“This isn’t fair– Haecha—”

“That’s not my name, not to you.” His strict tone went back for a bit.

“Donghyuck, you’re being really unfair. I get to sit in front of you and her looking so disgustingly inlove but the second another man shows interest in me you start this shit? That’s so fucking mean.” You wanted to shout at him, to yell at him but you knew better. A party doesn’t seem to be a good place to announce you’re fucking your friend’s boyfriend.

“I know, baby, trust me I feel so fucking horrible but I won’t lie to you. Ever since that night, you’re all I think about. No, fuck that, ever since the first time I laid eyes on you I knew I made a mistake. And fuck me for denying it but I can’t lie to myself now. I wanted to end it with her–”

“You want to end it? Okay. I’ll help you,” You stare at him blankly, not even sure if what you’re about to do is the right thing. You’re beyond being reasonable right now. You can see the confusion behind his eyes, followed by shock when you shouted.

“Hayeon-ah!” You call out her name.

Haechan was terrified and panicked at the same time. Your stunt poured a bucket of ice all over him, leaving him frozen on the spot.

Not even a full thirty seconds when Hayeon showed up, completely unaware of the conversation that had just occured.

“What? Why?” her tone was unassuming, despite the painfully obvious tension that filled the room.

“Donghyuck here, wants to tell you something.” You say, once again blankly. You couldn’t show any emotions because you don’t even know what to feel in the first place.

“Donghyuck? Who’s that?”

You look at her in slight incredulousness, but now’s not the time to be baffled by that.

“Haechan, I meant. He wants to tell you something,”

He was standing there, frozen in shock as he looks at you, then to his clueless girlfriend, waiting for whatever he’s gonna say. He swore his heart beats out of his chest. Like the room started to spin and the oxygen’s suddenly not fit for the three of you.

His hands are shaking, weighing the situation that’s unfolding in front of him. Once the very confident and sure of himself Lee Haechan was standing here like a beaten puppy, couldn’t even form a proper fucking sentence.

“I-I..”

He gulps, before glancing at you one last time, “We need to go, Hayeon-ah.” He grabs her wrist and before you knew it, he’s already gone.

You don’t know why you would even expect anything. You knew he wouldn’t, you knew he treasured her still despite how many times he crawls back to you. You knew he’d never pick you, but damn, it still hurt like a motherfucker.

You knew you were in the wrong side, and deep inside you, you’re calmed by the fact that there’s two of you on the that side, but then, you were left alone wallowing in the dark. Like you always were.

To be second to her, again, you thought was the most hurtful thing you could ever feel.

But to not be chosen by him, felt way worse.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Haechan didn’t even know why he didn’t just tell Hayeon right there and then.

Was he afraid of being judged? Come on, he’d been judged his entire life! Looks from people never bothered him, in fact, it exhilarated him.

He’s sure he wants you, no one else but you, so what’s the deal?

He thinks once again, that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want you to suffer from being judged. He knew that if the truth was revealed in front of people from the campus, they’d crucify you more than him. That’s the sad reality.

He’s all to blame, yes, maybe you too, but most of it is his fault. If only he’d wait a little longer to see you first before Hayeon, if only he’d ended his shallow relationship with her right after he saw you.

If only he could see himself from a different perspective, he’d definitely slap himself across the face.

He never thought he’d scoop so low, to cheat on a girl– but it’s you. Fuck everything if it’s you he’d get after all of this.

“Are you okay?”

Of course, whenever he’s in a rough situation, Renjun just coincidentally pops out of nowhere.

“No dude, I’m really not.” There’s no use at pretending he’s the big bad Lee Haechan around Renjun. He knows him in and out.

“Is it about y/n?”

That, he didn’t know that Renjun knows.

“How’d you..”

“Saw her running out of the apartment one time.” Renjun smiles as he thinks of that one time he caught you. You never saw him tho, he was standing still in the dark kitchen stirring his coffee.

“I fucked up, man.” Haechan lets himself loose, voice breaking as he covers his face with both of his palms.

“You did, you really did. I always knew you were a..” Renjun debates if he could use the term knowing his friend’s state of mind, “… player but I never thought you would actually cheat. You hate cheaters, man, we all do.”

“Look, you need to come clean this shit up. Own up to your bullshit– tell Hayeon. She deserves to know.”

Renjun was right. He can’t keep on hurting the poor girl, and the longer he waits, the more painful it would be for Hayeon, thus, affecting you more.

He’s just scared that after all this, he still couldn’t get you. He’s afraid that he’ll lose everything.

“Hayeon-ah..” He calls for her name as soon as he enters her apartment. He knew you wouldn’t be here.

He found Hayeon on her bed, scrolling mindlessly through her phone. When her eyes found his, she quickly jumps out to greet him.

“Hi baby! I found a new movie we could wa–”

“We need to talk.”

Her expression falls rapidly, visibly confused as to why Haechan suddenly sounded serious.

“W-what’s happening?” She asks.

Haechan knew there was no stepping away from this. He needed to do this, not only for you, but for him, and her aswell.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

[11:28pm] haechan: i’ll talk to her

[11:28pm] haechan: i’ll end it

[11:29pm] haechan: please wait for me

You hate to admit it, but there was a glint of hope in your chest when you read the text. You knew not to expect anything, especially after what happened last time. But this was different. He ignites the familiar spark in your system.

However, those texts was three days ago.

Three days, you have not received any other message from him. Not a text, not a call, not a fucking letter from a fucking pigeon. Nothing. Silence.

You started making paragraphs in your head– you were overthinking every little thing. Hayeon had not messaged you either, there was totally no some sort of retaliation you were expecting from her. Did he really say it? Did he confess? He did, didn’t he?

“You don’t look good,”

Jurin has came and visited you from Sacred Heart, slightly concerned about your lack of enthusiasm in your texts. From her words, you seemed ‘not you’.

“Hayeon hasn’t yelled at me yet. She manages to get out the apartment before I even wake up. Or I don’t know– maybe she’s sleeping at his place.”

It makes no sense. There should be some sort of confrontation because you fucking slept with her boyfriend. You’d rather that than nothing, because it’s driving you insane.

“Haechan’s MIA too?” Jurin asked which you just nodded to.

She sighed, and you knew what she was gonna say next. “I told you this isn’t a good idea,” She says as she sips on her coffee.

“I didn’t say it was. I just hoped– you know, he’d fucking call me.”

“You know you sound insane, right? You’re the side chick here, you don’t make demands. You don’t have the right.”

The last sentence hit you hard. Jurin was right, you sound pathetic. You need to remind yourself that you’re the other person. You were the parasite that ruined a relationship. But hey, it takes two to tango, right?

But as the old saying goes, Be careful what you wish for.

Because that same day, all your questions was answered.

The nights you spent restless, was all worth nothing. Because you just saw him, with her. They’re walking hand in hand, as if nothing ever happened.

You almost lost the grip of your bag as you watched them walk away. Hand in hand. Hand in fucking hand, still.

“You okay?” You hear one of your friends from class asks you. That’s when you realized that there were tears forming on your eyes so you quickly wipe them away.

But you swore, that even before you look away from them, you saw Hayeon look at you with a smirk, before turning away.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

@hayeonssi__: some ppl never change. once a slut, will always be a slut. :D good morning everyone!

comments (45) likes (106)

@kk_nara: is this who i think this is lolll

@the.minho.won: she should be embarrassed haha dude thats so trashhhh

@kimsana: oh it’s definitely that bitch LOL

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That was the first shot out of the many ones she threw at your direction. This just proves that Haechan did confess– but for some unknown reason, they’re still together.

You recognize those usernames, of course you did. They were Hayeon’s friends from Sacred Heart, the same ones you had before. They didn’t need to mention your name– you already knew they were pertaining to you.

Surely, the gossip was already spread around at Sacred. Hayeon’s influence over there is still huge. If she was popular over here at NCU, then she’s a fucking celebrity back at Sacred Heart.

So, yeah, you’re probably in some groupchat by now.

You chuckle in irony. For a person that hates to be in the limelight, you sure have a weird way to stay out of it.

And then, like a plague, it started.

People on the hallways started looking at you weird, like you were naked. Like you’re being escorted at a fucking execution. You thought they probably had suspicions. Actually, no, it wasn’t a suspicion, it was a fact. You slept with someone else’s boyfriend. You out of all people in here deserved the judgemental eyes that’s following you right now.

“Is it true?” Yangyang once cornered you at the emergency staircase.

“I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know what you heard,” You say truthfully.

“You slept with Haechan? Your roommate’s boyfriend?”

That’s the confirmation you needed. It’s out in the open. Sometimes it amazes you how words spreads like a wildfire.

You just look at Yangyang blankly, as if to answer his question with your mere silence. You assume he’s smart enough to tell what you meant.

“W-why would you..”

“Yangyang, please, save me the fucking lecture because I already had one a couple minutes ago from class. You were there, remember?”

Yangyang stood there, dumbfounded by how you chose to not take these things seriously.

“You do know that Haechan has a fucking harem that would eat you alive, right? Like dude, I know most of this is that asshole’s fault but they’re gonna blame it out on you!”

You find it endearing how he shows care for you— if you’re being honest you thought Yangyang would be like the others, but you thought wrong.

“What would you suggest I do, then? Stop attending classes and hide out like a little bitch? No, Yangyang. I’ll take what’s coming from me. I know what I did,” You walk away from him, but not before you paused.

“And tell your friend that I don’t want anything to do with him. He’s a fucking pussy.”

And with that, you left. You barely even scratched the surface of the avalanche that was coming for you in the next days.

People never seemed to care that there was the two of you that did it. You’ve never head of anyone curse at Haechan— they’re all pointing at you.

Why would they? When Haechan and Hayeon seemed to be going strong. You were just a pathetic attempt at trying to tear them apart, then failing miserably.

Hurtful words thrown at you, left and right. A homewrecker, a slut, and backstabber were in your mind almost every time you went out in the hallways.

It stung, sure. But it got to a point where you let it hurt until you can’t feel anything anymore.

One thing’s clear. Haechan left you to fend for yourself.

And then, couple of days later, it suddenly got quiet.

All the shushed gossip around you was gone, all the whispers that followed you dissipates. It was so abrupt. Like everybody started to mind their own business. Miraculously.

Apparently, out of all the people you least expected to help you out, Seungcheol had something to do with it.

@iamcseungcheol: @hayeonssi__ @haechanahceah tell your fans to chill out before i bust in your shitass school and do it myself

comments (156) likes (564)

You didn’t want it to be him to defend you. You wished that it wasn’t his username you were reading and you hoped that Seungcheol could always remain the person who hurt you. Not the one to save you in the midst of the chaos that seemed to target you.

You didn’t want to feel the gratitude towards the one person you swore you will never associate with ever again.

Nevertheless, it was still him. In some wicked way of fate, no matter how horrible he is, he’s always been by your side. No matter what.

And perhaps, that’s how life goes. Nevermind the fact that you fell inlove with someone else.

You should always choose whoever chooses you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“How’d she look?”

Haechan frantically followed Renjun around the apartment waiting for an answer.

“What did you expect? Of course she doesn’t look okay!” Renjun says, while taking off his coat and throwing it at the couch.

“Fuck, should I call Taeyong-hyung again?” Haechan sat beside Jaemin, biting his lips. Meanwhile, Jeno on the other side just looked at Haechan, slightly concerned.

“When did you last sleep, dude?” Jeno was staring at his friend’s eyes, the dark circles under them multiplying each day.

Haechan just shakes his head, avoiding Jeno’s question. He’s got more in his plate right now and he doesn’t need to be bothered about anything else. His only concern is about you.

He combs his hair out with his fingers in frustration. “I’m gonna call Taeyong-hyung.” He decides, standing up to grab his phone. He was about to take a step before Jaemin pulled him by his wrist and made him sit down beside him again.

“You’ve been calling them non-stop since Friday. Taeyong-hyung said he’d do something about it but it doesn’t mean it’s gonna be as quick as you want it to be. Haechan-ah, word travels quick and you can’t control each and everyone who attends this campus.” Jaemin says seriously.

“I know but that’s why I called Taeyong-hyung. He controls this school, doesn’t he? What the fuck is he waiting for–”

“Not to the point where he could shut every student up overnight. Dude, you gotta calm down–” Jeno’s small intervention speech was cut off when Haechan turns to him coldly.

“She’s fucking on her own, man. Hayeon despises her, the entire school turns on her and she can’t even— even defend herself. Y/n quite literally has nobody right now,” Haechan‘s voice was trembling. “--and you’re telling me to calm the fuck down?”

Jeno didn’t like his harsh tone. He furrows his brows at Haechan as he stood up to level with him. “And why is that, genius? Because you fucking decided to be an horny asshole and fuck your girlfriend’s bestfriend.”

Haechan snaps and shoves Jeno aggressively. This marks the first time Haechan has physically tried to start a fight with one of his bestfriends. As a natural reaction, Renjun and Jaemin was alarmed.

Jaemin was the closest one between the two, so he quickly goes in between them.

“Jesus fucking– what’s happening!” Renjun yells.

“I know I fucked up– that’s why I’m doing everything I can to protect y/n from all of this. That’s why I’m going fucking crazy trying to shut everybody up. So, yeah, Jeno. I know where I went wrong. Fuck you.” Haechan spits with a tightened jaw and clenched fists.

“And this is the first fucking thing you think of?” Jeno answers, still being blocked by Jaemin.

“What else can I do, dipshit?!” Haechan yells back with Renjun on his side.

“Oh, I don’t know– break up with that fucking girlfriend of yours and protect y/n yourself, dumbass!”

“You think I haven’t tried?!”

The room went silent. The three men didn’t know what to say and the only noise that surrounds the room was the heavy breathing from Haechan.

He looks up, stretching his neck as he remembers the night when he tried to end things with Hayeon.

⋆

“I know.”

That was the first thing Haechan hears when he brought Hayeon back to her apartment.

He was caught offguard, of course. Because he knew what Hayeon meant. There was no other meaning of why she would say that without any context.

However, he wanted to make sure. “W-what do you mean?”

The left corner of Hayeon’s lip rises, her eyes remained blank. “You’ve been fucking with Y/n behind my back, weren’t you?”

Haechan was tense, in a closed off stance. He avoided her eyes, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. He didn’t say anything, and that already says everything.

“I expected this from her, you know, being who she is. But you, Haechan.. I thought you changed?” Hayeon’s voice trembled, as the first sign of emotion she showed.

“Look, Hayeon–”

“You wanted me, Haechan. Don’t you remember? You did everything to get me and now that I’m yours this is how you treat me? I should’ve never introduced you to that witch.” Her voice was rightfully harsh. But it still rang in Haechan’s ear– the insults she threw at you.

“It was entirely my fault, Hayeon. I went up to her–”

“Oh come on. She’s an expert at this, Haechan. You’ve known her for months, I knew her for years. I know what she’s capable of. That’s why I never trusted her being around you. And you know what’s annoying? You took the fucking bitch’s bait.” Hayeon wiped her eyes, even though no tears had fallen yet.

“I’m trying to make this all right and end it here–”

Hayeon slaps Haechan across the face. Haechan’s eyes are wide, and he almost curses because of the pain but he reminds himself that he deserves this.

“End it? Are you fucking kidding me? You think I’ll let you go and run over to that slut’s arms? After you fucking screwed me over?!” Hayeon yells, no, screams so loud that her voice starts to strain.

Haechan was speechless. He doesn’t know what to do– Hayeon is unconsolable. But he can’t just leave without doing anything. He remembers the texts he sent you. You’re expecting him to end it tonight with Hayeon.

Slowly, with his eyes shaking, he knelt down– one knee at a time. Hayeon gasps in disbelief as she watched him sink down.

“I’m sorry. I know this fuck ass apology won’t cut it but we both know this relationship is bound to end. And we need to end it tonight, Hayeon-ah. I’ll apologize over and over again, please, don’t make this harder for the both of us,” He begged.

If this moment was captured by some sort of camera, it’ll be legendary among the entire campus. Lee Haechan, the so-called heartbreaker, on his knees in front of a girl. Unbelievable.

Hayeon didn’t answer, but she did freeze upon looking at him. And then, half a minute has passed, before she opens her mouth again.

“She really had you fooled, huh? What makes you think she wouldn’t make the same fucking thing to you? She’s a slut, Haechan! She’ll never stick to one guy!” She says through her gritted teeth.

Funny, everybody used to say the same damn thing about him.

“That’ll suck, but what can I do? I love her,” Haechan says in defeat, shoulders slumps and his breathing turned shallow.

Another slap landed on his cheek, and he just accepted it. Another, after another, until Hayeon sank down in exhaustion. Now they’re both in their knees.

“What about me, Haechan-ah? I love you,”

And slowly, she rolls up her sleeves to show what Haechan never expected to see.

“H-hayeon..”

She smiled, “Don’t you feel sorry? You did this to me, Haechan.”

He blinks rapidly, eyes stuck at the bandages on her wrist. “P-please, Hayeon.. not over me. Don’t.. don’t do this,”

“If you break up with me, it’ll be worst.”

⋆

Haechan doesn’t remember the last time he smiled. Genuinely.

He used to be on top of the world. Nothing stopped Haechan from being unapologetically him. Cruising through his life with nothing to worry about.

Now, he just felt.. empty. All the excitement and adrenaline that fuels his system was drained, and the carefree attitude he lived with was all sucked out of his soul.

Maybe this was the karma they were talking about? Maybe, maybe not. He doesn’t have the energy to care.

The aggressive knocking on the bathroom door was getting louder, loud enough to surpass the booming bass from the music outside.

“What the fuck’s taking so long?!” He hears a random man outside.

He assumes the line to the bathroom is getting longer, but all he cares about is the lines he was doing inside. It felt freaking awesome.

Straightening his back, he sniffs to get all of it in his system. He then rubbed his nose out of the excess before shouting back. “Fuck you!”

The sudden rush gets to him, and he closes his eyes to let it sink in. Jaws slacking, he takes one deep breath. He looks at the mirror.

The person staring back at him seems familiar, but can’t tell who it is. Is it him? Is this how the great Lee Haechan looks now?

“Woah, you’re handsome,” He says to his own reflection.

If only he was sober, he’ll recognize everything that had changed. The expressive eyes he boasts on and on about before are now empty, and the smile he used to wear everyday are non-existent.

This isn’t Lee Haechan, fuck it, this isn’t even Lee Donghyuck. Standing in front of him is a man that’s gave up on everything.

The room started to spin, and only then Haechan knew he had taken too much.

All of a sudden, a loud bang depicts the door being forced open. He turns to see his friend, Jeno, heaving as he quite literally kicked the door open, followed by Jaemin and Renjun’s worried faces.

“Oh? Hello,” Haechan chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. Did Jeno really kicked the door open?

What he also doesn’t realize is he’s now slumped on the bathroom floor, leaning at the bathtub. Weird, he didn’t remember falling down.

And then he hears it. Her voice. That fucking voice that haunts him.

“Haechan! What the hell!” She squeals as she pushes his friends away.

“Of course you’d be here,” He grunts.

Haechan tries to stand but failed, ending up on the same position as he was seconds ago. Renjun helps him up but Hayeon pushes his hands away. “I’ll take care of my boyfriend,” She hisses at him.

Haechan frowns at this and looks at her. “Don’t touch Renjun like that,” He slurs his words but its clear enough for Hayeon to roll her eyes.

“You can’t carry him home, Hayeon. We’ll take care of him.” Jaemin interferes. Hayeon thought for a second and she hates to agree with them, but they’re right. She’ll make a fool of herself if she thinks she can carry a grown ass man.

Jaemin and Jeno takes each of Haechan’s arms as they carried him off the ground. Haechan roams his eyes for a bit when it landed on Hayeon’s wrist.

Weird, the bandages are off. They fought over it just this morning, how come there’s no marks on it now?

He shakes his head off, before he turns to Renjun. “Injunnie, are you hurt?” He asks sweetly and his friend just patted him as Renjun sighs and follows them out.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Are you really gonna follow me around?” Haechan asks Jaemin as he watches his friend scroll on his phone while he walks on the hallway to his class.

“Cut the pissy attitude, I have better things to do than this, but after the shit you pulled last night, you pissed Renjun off so we gotta take turns in babysitting your dumbass.” Jaemin casually says, eyes still on the phone.

“Renjun can kiss my ass,”

“I can kiss your what, now?”

Haechan turned around to see Renjun standing with one brow lifted and his arms crossed. “Oh shit, when did you get here?”

“Shut up,” Renjun turns to Jaemin, “Jaemin-ah, Jeno says you two had a schedule at the gym.”

“Right,” Jaemin’s eyes widened, swiftly turning around and skedaddled away. Leaving Haechan and Renjun.

“Honestly, Injunnie, I can handle myself,”

Renjun looks at him as if Haechan was spitting nonsense, “So you passing out at some random party’s bathroom after doing lines, is you handling yourself?”

“I didn’t know I worry you this much, you really do love me, huh?” Haechan pokes Renjun’s sides as they walked, Renjun responding with a punch on his shoulder.

They continued play fighting until they turned a corner and hears the school’s counselor. “Ms. Y/L/N, we’re not done talking,”

The door opens and Haechan stood frozen. His breath hitches when you walk out of the office, covered with an oversized hoodie. His jaw slackens as he eyed you, this was the first time he saw you after that night at Soohyun’s party.

It felt like his blood ran cold, but his entire body started to warm up. He couldn’t do anything but stand there and see it unfold.

“Sucks to be you, because I’m done talking,” You say in a raspy voice.

Even from afar, Haechan could see your red eyes and pale lips. He also got a glimpse of sweat beads forming on your forehead. Initially, Haechan jumps to conclusion that the counselor had done something bad to you, however, two other people walked out of the office.

It was Ms. Lim, a professor and Nurse Suh.

The hallway was empty, and it would be suspicious if they had just stood there. So, Renjun, decides to grab Haechan’s wrist. Haechan didn’t move but Renjun grips him harshly. “We’re not leaving, we’re just hiding.” He says, pulling the boy with him and hiding on the corner.

Haechan takes in your posture, your aura and your entire vibe. You were still eternally beautiful, but he can sense that you’re not okay.

“Is it your boyfriend?” Ms. Lim ask softly, obviously trying to gain even the tiniest of cooperation with you.

“Seungcheol has nothing to do with this,”

Haechan flinches, eyes burning through you as he heard the name. It broke him, into a million pieces but he still manages to stand in his feet, wanting to hear the rest of it.

“We should go–” Renjun stopped talking when he saw the look in his bestfriend’s eyes.

“I need to stay,” He whispers, barely audible.

“The bruises on your neck are concerning, that’s unnatural, you can’t say its just because of your period. Somebody had to inflict force to create bruising that’s as horrible as those around your neck.” Nurse Suh explained.

Haechan can feel his own heart shattering. Mouth slowly opening in disbelief, tears threatening to escape. What he felt upon hearing that was beyond heartbreak, the pain was unbearable enough to cause him to go numb. With his hands shaking, he turned around.

He can hear Renjun calling his name but he focused on getting the hell out of there.

He finds himself outside your apartment, staring at the door not knowing what to do. He knows you’re not in here, yet he still can’t find it in himself to leave. He truly has no idea what step he should take next.

He doesn’t know how long he was standing there before the door opened, revealing the least person he wanted to see right now.

“Haechan? What’re you doing here?” Hayeon stood there, confused.

Haechan didn’t say anything, instead, looking down to confirm what's been killing him.

“Were you lying about this?” Haechan takes Hayeon’s clean wrists, and immediately, Hayeon snatched it back.

“W-why a-are you–”

“Hayeon-ah, please! J-just be honest, please,” Haechan yelled on top of his lungs, extremely tired of it all.

Hayeon knew there was no point in hiding it anymore, “Yes,”

And there it was. The truth that scared Haechan the most. He lost you, for no real reason.

The fact that he had left you suffering on your own, because of a horrible string of lies that held him from reaching out to you. All his sacrifices, for absolutely nothing.

“I knew what I did was wrong but did you have to lie about this?” His voice was now controlled, but the exhaustion was still pertinent.

“I can’t lose you to her, not her.. I’m so much better than her,” Hayeon breaks down crying, but Haechan just watches her hug her knees and sob.

“I think you never wanted me, Hayeon. You just wanted to compete with y/n, and you didn’t want to lose. This isn’t about me,”

“I hope you know that after what you did, you just stooped down to my level. We’re both fucking evil in this story, Hayeon. The only difference is that I tried making it right, but you will never stop if you wouldn’t have been caught.”

With that, Haechan walks away.

“Fine, fuck you, anyways! You both deserve each other!!” Hayeon screams, but Haechan just keeps walking.

Walking away from all the pain, from all the strings that bind him to her. He gets a whiff of freedom, and he felt relief knowing that the chapter that has him on hold has finally ended.

Haechan never expected Winter break to be this cold.

Afterall, the news said it wouldn’t even break last year’s temperature. But meh, what does the weatherman know? He might just spew bullshit to keep his job for all Hae-Donghyuck knows.

“You keep repeating the same show over and over again, Donghyuck-ah. Give up the remote!” Renjun’s girlfriend, Birdie, as everybody calls her, says as she tried to snatch the phone out of Donghyuck’s grasp.

“Remind me again why are you here?” Donghyuck jokes at her, earning a hefty slap on the wrist from Renjun.

“Renjun told me you wouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah, dude, you’re ruining our valentines day!” Renjun says lightly, but Donghyuck just mocks his words like a child.

“Do you have a thirdwheel kink?” Birdie kids again, but this time Donghyuck stood up.

“Y’know what, both of you can kiss my plump ass! Besides, who celebrates Valentines day at home? Renjun, you stingy bitch,” Donghyuck says as he grabs his coat and walks towards the door.

He hears both of them yelling at him to come back, saying they were just kidding. But Donghyuck knows that he’d be disturbing their cute-sy cozy home date bullcrap and he wouldn’t want to hear any of his friend’s fucking later on the evening.

“I’ll be back before eleven so you two should fuck now,” Donghyuck says before he closes the door.

And immediately, he regrets going outside. He’s literally gonna freeze his balls off, even with the layers of clothing he has right now.

“Aw shit,” He curses as he hugs himself, all the way to his car.

He drives off the streets of Seoul, with no particular destination. He just wanted to drive mindlessly, yet carefully, of course.

This was the first Valentines day Donghyuck had to spend alone.

He now swores off doing the shit he does before. No playing with girls, no fucking rando’s, and no doing hardcore drugs. ‘Til to this day, he still cringes when he thinks of what he used to be.

If the old Haechan could see him right now, he’d probably laugh in his face.

He then takes off his gloves for comfortability while driving, and he stares lovingly at his middle finger.

There, inked deep within his ring finger, was your initial.

He read a book once, when he was snooping around Renjun’s room. Before he could even snooze off, he gets to a page where he read something intriguing.

How to know if you’ve finally found your greatest love;

And it was so strange, because every single one of them falls under you.

You, who Donghyuck still thinks of everyday.

You, who became his standard whenever Jeno introduces him to a friend.

You, who he correlates to every single sunflower he sees.

And you, who he loved so much even tho you’ve never been his to begin with.

Donghyuck was convinced you were his greatest love.

Given, he has nothing to compare you to because he has never loved somebody this much before, but he just knows.

So, on one fateful night of his drunken escapades, he got your initial tattooed on his ring finger. Something he could keep. Something that he owned.

And sure, it was a reckless decision made by a drunken man, but he never felt any hint of regret the day after.

“How corny,” He says under his breath as he watches a public engagement unfold literally in front of the bench he was sitting at.

He aggressively chomps at his bungeoppang before starting to wrap it the plastic up. He decides it’s better to eat it at his car rather than keep watching these corny couples be couple-y looking.

“Can I have one?”

Recoiling backwards, Donghyuck turns around to see who that voice belongs to. Even tho he had a hint.

What greets him first was the same set of eyes he longed for, then the lips that he dreamed of each night he went to bed. Everything else was a blur.

Mouth slightly agape, Donghyuck once again finds himself speechless in front of you. After everything that had happened, it’s kind of hilarious how he still has the same reactions whenever you’re in front of him.

After a quick inhalation of his breath, “U-uhm, I only have the ones that has red beans in it.”

He honestly don’t know what else to say.

“That’s good,” You say and lend your hands over. With trembling hands, he grabs you a piece and gave it to you. Without blinking, he watched you sit on the same bench he was sitting on before.

Despite your obvious invitation for him to sit with you, he stood there in shock. Is he starting to imagine things?

“Are you gonna leave?” You say when you notice him not moving.

He swiftly shakes his head in disagreement as he takes quick steps to sit beside you.

“Your friends are really something, y’know?” You started off.

Donghyuck had questions, but before he could even spew them out, you continued.

“Renjun calls me everyday, Jaemin bothers me in class and Jeno constantly tries to talk to me everytime he sees me. How much did you pay those bastards?” He knows, based on your tone that you were saying those lightly but Donghyuck hurriedly turns towards you.

“I swear I never asked them to bother you. I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know they were doing that, really–”

“They were saying the same damn thing, but I never believed them.” You say as you take a bite off of your bread. Not knowing how your words just re-open scars Donghyuck spent time healing.

“I’m so–”

“Because I want to hear it from you,”

For the second time this night, you left him speechless. With his rigid body posture and rapidly blinking eyes, his brain scattered thoughts he wanted to say to you.

“I was so ready to leave you and all these behind, you know. But everytime I try to look at other people, I just can’t help but to think of what would’ve happened if I gave you a chance to explain yourself?”

You continued, “Is it true that you called Lee Taeyong yourself to stop the rumours spreading? Is it also true that Hayeon lied about harming herself just to keep you? Is it you that reported Seungcheol to the police?” You listed all of the questions that he already has an answer to.

“All these questions, and none of them answered is the reason why I couldn’t just move on. There’s no clean slate if I still had baggage from the past, you know?”

Donghyuck feels like there’s a time ticking on him, like you’ll disappear any moment now. So he takes a deep breath before answering, “Yes, yes, and yes.”

“I’m gonna need more than that, you know?” You chuckled lightly, and he could’ve sworn it sounded like angels singing directly at his ears.

“I had connections to Taeyong-hyung and I begged him to scare off anybody who says a word about you, and I literally had to stand outside his door for hours on end just to talk to him,” He paused, because he knew he had to explain the other one more seriously. “And Hayeon did threaten me to hurt herself if I left, that’s why I couldn’t break up with her at that time. There was also a part of me that was dying of guilt, maybe that’s why I never questioned it. But the night I–” He squeezed his eyes shut, “--I down-spiralled because of d-drugs, I saw that she was faking it all along.. and that was the time I ended it with her. And yes, I did report that son of a bitch to the police.”

“After all that… you still didn’t come to find me?” You say, finally, looking at him straight in his eyes.

Just like the first time you two met, he still felt the same feeling of almost melting into putty everytime your eyes meet his. Every. single. time.

“I hurt you enough, I didn’t think I deserve you.” He says with nothing but the truth. He can’t afford to lie to you now.

“Did you regret it?”

Donghyuck nods his head. “I do, I really do. But would I do it again? Absolutely.”

“I think.. I think I’ve heard enough. B-but.. It’s gonna be hard to go back to what we were before.”

Donghyuck, with all of his strength, dared to touch your hand. Although it was cold, the spark he felt was enough to bring warmth.

“I don’t want to go back.” He says.

You furrowed your brows, “Uhm, oka–”

“I want to start over, I want to get you right, this time.” He says while it takes all of him to match your eyes.

“I want a fair shot, to a chance I never got before. I want to make you mine, but I hope you know that I’ve always been yours. Then, now, and forever.”

You smiled at him as you let a tear drop from your eye.

“Start over?” You ask.

Donghyuck nods again, this time as he smiled back at you. The first time in a long time, he smiled genuinely.

At you, the person that made him love his real name again.

At you, that turned him to a better man for himself.

At you, whom he’d never forget for the rest of his life.

And at you, who reminds him that after all, Lee Haechan, the heartbreaker, also has a heart.

He lets go of you hand and offers you a handshake.

“Hi, I’m Lee Donghyuck of NCU. Do you want to go on a date before Valentines day?”

He smiles goofily.

“Hi, Lee Donghyuck, I would absolutely love to.”

To be fair, Lee Donghyuck never claimed to be a good guy.

But for you? He’d die trying.

A/N: It’s finally finished! Aaah this series really tested me as an author. It’s amazing how a fanfiction can make you feel, moreso when you make one! A series at that! I realize that writing is a commitment, to both the readers and characters themselves. This was my first major project for myself— and although it took a looooong time, I am so glad that I finally finished it. One thing I can say tho, is that every story was straight out of my brain. I never rushed it, and I was never afraid to redo it all over again if I didn’t satisfy myself. That’s why it took a long time. Thank you all for supporting this series and please do support me by interacting with this post! And yep, you’ll be seeing more stories from me soon.

Again, Thank you so much for the support. Sincerely.

Na Jaemin, Lee Jeno, Huang Renjun and Lee Haechan from The Diary of the Heartbreakers now signing off.

© ryozakidesu, 2025

[yaymiyas]

THE HUSBAND

warning: female reader, saer being….saer, yan!isekai!crown prince

a/n: i was so burnt out so lets see what i come up with ….its short ik and yes im cooking up something w cynthia LET ME COOK 🫡🙄🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯

the idea of divorce was swimming in the mist of your mind hours before you regained most of the movement in your body. you knew you had to get out of this situation in a peaceful but quick manner. in your mind, leaving saer should have been easy since he hated edina more than the devil himself. he saw her as a shit stain satan left on earth to torture him for all of his days. so why are tears running down his face…thats odd? from all of the tweets, forums, and blogs saer had close to no emotions for edina. he hated her through and through. in the original story, he would’ve cheered of joy if she simply asked to part ways. so why was he sitting in front of you crying? was the bacon too salty? was he remembering the good ol’ times with his late father? ever since you’ve transmigrated into this story, everything has been so weird. aside from you being close to perfectly fine after being fed poison, saer has became more careful.

in the book, saer was close to a bubbling idiot. every single assassination attempt was stopped by a maid because he was stupid. he always played it as cynthia and amanda favoring edina but that wasnt the full truth. he was just too obvious with everything he was doing. you actually kind of felt back for the dummy, no wonder gracie wants nothing to do with him. regardless of any of that, you actually started to feel a bit bad for him. it was obvious saer didnt know why he was crying or how to stop it by the way his face was balled up in red confusion. maybe it was out of guilt or for the plot, either way you wanted to help him. maybe he wanted to kill you but seeing a grown man cry really did break your heart.

“now, saer..”

gently pushing your hand out to cover his larger ones, you put on a voice of concern. you want to help the poor idiot but you also want to get out of this house alive. maybe playing the sweet docile wife could do you some good, maybe—

“ugh, stupid bitch get off of me.”

slapping your hand off of his, saer attempted to keep a face of pure disgust plastered for you to see. why on earth was he crying, and why on earth are you being so off-putting? at first, your new actions didnt really bother him. were they different? yes, but they weren’t unpleasant. but now...it was as if the poison made you utterly indifferent to his presence, which he told himself he loved, but the lord knows thats a lie. you quietly sitting there, dry-face, with a slight frown and uninterested body language, angered him. saer was crying purely for reactions. he thought that crying would help him close this conversation and make you jump up and beg for his forgiveness, but no. all you did was lift your grimly, beastly fingers to ‘comfort’ him. what a joke of a woman.

“im finished with my breakfast”

the scream of the chair was louder than your own thoughts, kicking you out of your own subconscious. what even was that about? you were TRYING to be the version of edina you thought he would like, second from you killing yourself right there and then. so why was he acting like you were trying to jump his bones? he is such a wicked man….such a sad excuse of a person. its such a shame his attitude is so sour, you were going to try to soften his walls to see if he would lighten up on the poisoning situation. how did he get it? who did he get it from?

“madam,”

lightly placing her hand on your shoulder, cynthia appeared. scaring you out of your thoughts, you straightened your back and put on the best fake smile you could. you knew cynthia didnt really care for you, as demonstrated by the bath she gave you earlier, but you thought that maybe you could melt this ice queen. her soft ginger coils shaped her face in all the right places, giving her olive skin the type of glow women in the real world would kill for. she had green eyes to match alone with it, making it easy to find yourself lost in them. cynthia was a beautiful woman; just how did she become a maid for this jackass?

“his royal highness has ordered for you to be sent to your room.”

[no-144444]

simple, easy life- m.verstappen

summary: an accident happens and max's life changes for the worst

pairing: max verstappen x fem! reader

warnings: main character death, death, car crashes

a/n: YUKI TO RB???? I MEAN SLAY FOR HIM BUT ALSO THE RB IS SHIT, AND POOR LIAM, AND I HATE REDBULL! (not u isack, yuki, max, or liam, but fuck u helmut marko u twat)

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Realistically, cars were Max’s first love. You weren’t disillusioned to the fact that Max was a car guy in every sense of the word, and constantly made jokes that he loved his cars more than you. 

He’d never drive a car again if it meant you never got hurt like this. 

He had been sitting at dinner, the most regular experience, the night before the China GP, and your best mate, Hailee, called him sobbing crying. 

“Max, it’s Y/n, I have no idea what’s happened, but it’s bad. She’s in emergency surgery or something, they didn’t tell me. I just- GET HERE, alright Max. Get here.”

And she hung up as his world stopped. His entire world shattered because you were hurt, you were thousands of miles away, and he had a race tomorrow. 

“Are you alright mate?” GP leaned over and questioned, his voice low. 

“I have to go back to Monaco,” he announced, getting up from his chair and tucking his jacket under his arm, beginning the walk out of the restaurant. 

GP fumbled to follow after him, and the voices of Helmut, Jos,  and Christian calling Max back echoed through the restaurant. “Mate, what’s going on?!” GP shouted after him as they reached the streets of Shanghai. 

“It’s personal,” he answered. “Get Yuki to fill my seat. Have Pepe fill his. Done.”

“Max, Christian isn’t going to take ‘it’s personal’ as a response, that’s going on?” GP grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. “What’s happened?”

“Y/n’s hurt,” he admitted, looking down. “And she needs me.” 

His face fell, his jaw dropping. “My god, is she alright?” 

Max shrugged, emotion catching in his throat. “I don’t know.”

He'd never seen Max like that. He’d never seen him almost cry over a girl. He’d never seen him sacrifice championship points for someone, for anyone. 

“What’s going on Max?” Jos demanded, stepping out beside the two men. He placed a hand on the back of his neck, and Max tensed up. 

“I have to go back to Monaco,” he answered, his voice steady. “It’s important.” “Nothing’s more important than racing-”

“Y/n is,” Max interjected. “And she’s lying in a fucking hospital bed on the other side of the world, so yes, she’s more fucking important!” he argued, slapping his father’s hand away. “We have reserve drivers for a fucking reason. Use them.” 

And he walked away. Away to the airport where his jet was being stored, and he flew straight back home, catastrophizing the entire way. What if you were injured badly? What had happened? Had it been a drunk driver? Would you have serious disabilities? Would you have to take time off work? Which car were you driving, was it his? And the worst thought of all popped into his head; What if you were dead? 

He pushed it back as far as he could, but still, it stayed. Lingering like the smell of your goddamn perfume on his jacket.

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All he could smell was antiseptic and a little bit of dread. It had been an exhausting 14 hour flight, one he couldn’t rest on. Max prided himself on being able to sleep through anything, and anywhere. That was not the case when it came to you. 

“And how do you know the patient?” the nurse asked, pulling him out of his spiral once more. 

“I’m her fiancé,” he answered, eyes glassy and heavy. 

“She’s just down the hall in room 8. Be aware, it may be a bit of a jarring sight, she’s hooked up to a few machines, and she’s in an induced coma,” the nurse tried to put it as softly as she could, but no one could make that sound good, not even Bruce Buffer. “Do you want someone to accompany you? I can come in, just for moral support?” she offered, seeing the way Max’s body language changed at her words. 

He chuckled sadly. “You’re very kind, but no. Thank you.”

She nodded and he walked on. He needed to do this on his own, mostly because he didn’t really know what he was walking into. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but he knew he was going to stand by you forever, if that’s how long this took. Though he hoped it wouldn’t. He hoped you’d pull through, get strong again, do all the things you wanted with your life. 

Be there with him while you both grew old, have you care for him even when no one remembered his name. 

Be in love. Get married. Have that small family you always wished for. 

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You died at 1.33am. The universe was taunting him, clearly. He held your hand. He didn’t call the nurse. He just sat there for a few moments, trying to imagine a future without you. He fucking couldn’t. His whole life was centred around you, around you being in it. After F1 he would just stay in Monaco with you, spend his days watching his kids grow up. He would walk them to school in the mornings and bring you back a coffee from your favourite shop, maybe a cinnamon roll on a Friday, or everyday. Depends on what you’d let him do. He’d come in, coffees in hand, and bring yours to you in bed, or maybe in your office. Maybe you’d kiss him. Maybe you’d smile one of those perfect smiles of yours. Maybe it wouldn’t matter, because you both knew you had another chance the next day. 

And all of that was gone. You were gone. 

So what was meant to happen now?

He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. 

But he had to. He ran through all the motions, he signed the paperwork, and he picked out the casket. 

But he should’ve been picking up the kids from school, holding your hand and kissing you, even if it embarrassed them. 

It should’ve been a simple, easy life. 

But it wasn’t.

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navigation for my blog :)

redbull & vcarb masterlist

[imagine-you]

won't somebody come take me home? [Logan/Reader]

Summary: You've been abandoned to the Void after experiencing heartbreak in your universe. Instead of becoming food for Alioth or one of Cassandra's underlings, you find a new family with the resistance seeking to bring her down. When Johnny doesn't come back to the hideout, you keep watch in the hopes of seeing his return. Instead, you find a Deadpool variant fighting someone who looks achingly familiar. Someone who reminds you of your old life and the person who broke your heart. When you finally come face to face with a Logan after being pruned from your universe, you're not expecting the longing you're met with or the fact that in his universe, you were his wife. Word Count: 7.7k Author's Note: I've wanted to write for X-Men for so long and then I saw Deadpool and Wolverine and fell in love with Logan all over again. If you like this, please let me know! I'm so nervous about writing for a new fandom. And if you want to see more X-Men stuff from me, please let me know that as well! Reader's song for this is definitely I'm With You by Avril Lavigne, but I kind of imagine Logan's ends up being Hanging By a Moment by Lifehouse.

closer to where I started // all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me

Read on AO3

Everyone in the Void had a tragic backstory that was befitting a hero or villain or anything in between. You were the ones who were lost, abandoned, or forgotten by your worlds and the people you cared about more than anyone else.

You didn't remember much about how you got to the Void, but you had a pretty good understanding of why you were dropped into the barren wasteland for the multiverse's landfill.

Like most people in the Void, you were here because of heartbreak. The one person you had loved with your entire being had loved someone else. You had given him your all, but he only gave you a piece of himself. And when he ripped that piece of himself away, leaving you aching and broken, you were swept out like unwanted trash and right into the Void.

"What's got you so down today, ma chérie?" Remy dropped down into the chair at your side.

You huffed out a laugh that was nowhere near amused. "Besides the fact that we're all stuck here and trying to avoid Cassandra and her wandering fingers?" You brought your hand up and wriggled them in Remy's face, reluctantly letting out a laugh when he snapped his teeth at them.

"Ah, there's that smile," he mused, bumping his shoulder into yours. "You thinkin' 'bout your old life?"

You rolled your eyes, inanely feeling your throat tighten as you fought the urge to cry. You kept your gaze on the bottle of whiskey on the table. Remy reached for it, but he met resistance and turned a glare on you.

You shrugged your shoulders before dropping the forcefield. "I had a dream about him last night," you admitted with a scowl. "About what happened and how no one on my team had my back. How they all thought it was inevitable." You snorted before you quickly grabbed the bottle and took a swig, relishing the burn that traveled down your throat and sent warmth pulsing through your chest. You handed it over to Remy, ignoring his obvious annoyance.

"Listen, you're a lot better off now than you were with those fuckers," he consoled as he finally wrapped his hand around the bottle. "But don't go gettin' between me and my drink, now," he warned, his eyes briefly flashing red before fading away. "I'm not like those assholes who abandoned you. You've got nothin' to hate me for."

"You're real shit at pep talks, you know that?" Johnny cut in, knocking into Remy as he walked by. "Leave Y/N alone. She doesn't want to put up with your bullshit right now."

"And you suppose she wants to put up with yours? All you've got is bullshit," Remy taunted, idly twirling a card between his fingers. It was half a threat, but Johnny would only fight fire with fire and Remy knew it. Elektra had forbidden both of them from using their powers in the hideout, since they had almost burned it down last time.

"Will you both just stop?" You groaned, letting your head hit the table. Someone reached out to pat you on the shoulder, but you didn't bother to look and see who did it. "I love and respect you both dearly, but if you leave another scorch mark in here, then we'll all be in trouble."

Remy obediently stowed the card back up his sleeve while Johnny rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever," he sighed before making for the door. “See you later.”

"Where are you going?" You called, watching him retreat.

"I'll be around," Johnny answered, shooting you a smirk over his shoulder. "I always come back, don't I?"

You didn't get a chance to respond before he was gone. You always worried about Johnny when he went on his little trips around the Void. He swore he would be careful not to run into any of Cassandra's goons, but you knew all of your days were limited. Whether it was Alioth or Cassandra or one of the many rogue Deadpools wandering around, it was only a matter of time before trouble found you.

Remy stood up and placed the half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of you. "Just this once," he allowed with a wink. "You appreciate that, though, you hear?"

"Thanks," you muttered before reaching for the bottle.

You spent the rest of the day trying to block out the dream while you trained with Laura.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn't realize you had company.

"Damn, what's got you so riled up?"

You turned to look at Eric, surprised to see him standing there. You then realized your knuckles had split open and you had trashed the makeshift punching bag you had made out of an old blanket and some sand.

"Nothing," you deflected, half-tempted to go invisible just so no one could see you. Even though he was wearing sunglasses, you knew you had his full attention and you didn't want another lecture on leaving your past behind.

No one on your team was good at that, but you were arguably the worst at letting your pain go.

You always hated when you dreamt about Logan. His last words to you echoing in your mind over and over. You hadn't been enough for him, but Jean? Jean was everything he wanted. You supposed your powers paled in comparison and you would never measure up when all you could do was conjure forcefields and become invisible. Logan had been in love with her from the first moment he laid eyes on her, but you had never seen that look on his face when he looked at you.

It was a pity that you had given Logan everything only to be cast aside for the one who truly held his heart.

If Johnny were there, he would have told Blade to mind his own business, but he still hadn't come back.

"Again," Laura prompted, drawing your attention towards the punching bag. It was half-demolished, but you figured you still had some fight in you.

You noticed her shake her head at Eric as you turned away and focused all your hurt into your fists, watching the bag fall apart.

Johnny hadn't returned by the next morning and you were starting to worry.

You considered everyone your family, but you had a special bond with Johnny. He had been the first person to welcome you to the resistance and you, specifically your powers, had reminded him of his sister. He opened up to you about how much he missed his team, his family, and you told him about the heartbreak you had endured in your universe.

"I'll tell you what, if I ever get my hands on your Logan, I'll light the fucker on fire."

You felt a laugh bubble out of you. It was the first time you had laughed in ages and it felt so good to know you could still find joy in things. "He'd just regenerate."

"Not when I'm done with him," Johnny promised. "I'll cook him 'til he's just a heap of ash and then you'll dance on his remains."

You shook your head, but let Johnny carry on with his elaborate plan for revenge on your behalf. Johnny would never meet your Logan and you knew you would never actually see him again. Everyone in the Void was forgotten and there was no escape.

"You worried about Johnny?" Elektra wondered, coming to stand at your side.

You were keeping an eye on the horizon, searching for any sign that Johnny was coming home.

"It's not like him to be gone this long without some kind of message he's okay.

"He's gotten this far, hasn't he?" Elektra pointed out, shooting you a reassuring look. "He'll be fine."

You nodded your head, but didn't budge from your spot.

"You plan on staying out here all night?" Elektra asked.

"If I have to," you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders. "What if he's in trouble?"

"Then you won't be any help to him sleep-deprived," she answered.

"I've had worse," you deflected with a forced grin.

Elektra sighed, but didn't try to dissuade you again.

You had a pair of binoculars Laura had scavenged and you were doing your best to keep an eye on your surroundings. You were surveying a forest when something caught your attention. You focused on the sight, wondering for a moment if Elektra had been right and sleep deprivation was messing with your mind.

You pulled the binoculars away and blinked a few times before looking through them again.

"Ah fuck," you groaned when you realized that what you were seeing was real.

"What's wrong?" Laura asked, startling you.

"Shit," you hissed, nearly dropping the binoculars. You handed them over and pointed towards what previously held your attention. "You see that?"

"Is that--?" Laura cut herself off before shooting you a disbelieving look. "It's him."

"With a Deadpool," you confirmed with a nod of your head.

"We should get them before someone else does," Laura suggested, handing the binoculars back to you.

You hesitated, knowing she was right, but hating the idea of seeing him again.

"I can go alone," Laura offered. You knew she also loved her Logan, but he had been like a father to her up until his final moments. Your Logan had managed to bring you nothing but pain and insecurity.

"No," you told her with a firm shake of your head. Johnny had gone off alone and now it had been almost two days since the last time you saw him. In the Void, that was as good as a death sentence. "I'll go with you."

You let the others know you were off to rescue two new recruits to the resistance and helpfully left out the fact that one of those people was a Logan variant.

Laura led the way and you followed in her tracks. You kept yourself invisible, knowing that if anyone came after Laura, then you could use your presence as a surprise. You had also learned to use your forcefields as a weapon as much as a defense and you were ready if anyone tried to attack.

Once you got to the station wagon, you let yourself become visible again. You slowly approached the car while Laura investigated the clearing for any signs that you might have been followed. You could see the Deadpool variant wrapped up in the seatbelts, but you couldn't help but let your focus stray to Logan.

He was different from your Logan, but seeing his face hurt all the same. Your Logan had taken everything from you and given nothing back except for pain. This Logan was a stranger, but he still brought up familiar feelings. Love and confusion and agony.

"Is he yours?" Laura wondered, finally joining you in your study of Logan.

"No," you assured her. "Mine would've never been caught dead in the yellow suit," you admitted with just the tiniest hint of relief. You never wanted to see your Logan again, but you couldn't help but admit to yourself that didn't mean you never wanted to see any other Logan. You were scared, terrified of the pain he might cause you, but you hadn't been able to let go of the love you held for him. You were sure, even in that moment, that you would love Logan in every universe. It was too bad he wouldn't love you just the same.

Although, you supposed you didn't really have a Logan. You never did, since the one from your universe was never yours in the first place.

Doubt and wariness began to creep in and you started to herd Laura towards the Honda you were half-sure belonged to the Nicepool variant. "You drive," you prompted, opening the passenger door seat and carefully sitting among the wreckage and blood that was practically painted on every surface of the car.

Laura started the car and you glanced over your shoulder, waiting for the two backseat occupants to stir, but they were both still knocked out.

"They really did a number on each other," you muttered, your gaze already back on Logan.

Laura was silent for long enough that you thought she was ignoring you. "It's not your Logan," she reminded you after a couple of minutes. You realized you were still watching him and finally forced yourself to turn around in your seat.

"It's not," you confirmed, studying your hands in your lap. You let them shift in and out of visibility, a nervous habit you had when you were torn between fight and flight.

"Then he's not the one who hurt you," she continued, keeping her focus on the path in front of you.

"He's not the one who saved you," you shot back. The way she looked at this Logan like she was seeing her savior miraculously alive all over again had felt like a punch in the gut. You were both mourning and the source of it had just dropped right back into your lives. "He might be worse," you pointed out.

"He might be better," she argued with a quick glance at you. "He might not even know us."

"Yeah," you sighed, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, silently apologizing for being so defensive. "Eric's right," you conceded with a grimace. "I need to let it go."

"Hard to let something like that go," she allowed with a soft smile at you. She was the only one who knew the full story. Johnny knew most of it and the others knew enough, but Laura had loved her own Logan like family. She knew what it was like to lose him, albeit in a very different way.

When you got back to the hideout, Laura helped free Deadpool while you formed a forcefield around Logan and used it to lift him out of the car. Charles had claimed it was a form of telekinesis, but you always told him you were just controlling the forcefield. Whatever was inside it just happened to move with it. If you dropped the forcefield, then whatever was inside it would fall.

Laura dragged Deadpool inside while you let Logan hover through the air and into the hideout. Laura left Deadpool on the floor, but you were careful with Logan and let him hover just over the bed you used before letting him go.

Laura shot you a bemused look before going to let the others know you had company.

You weren't really sure what to do with yourself, so you settled for pacing from one end of the room to the other. You were halfway across the room when you heard a rustling noise behind you. You half-hoped it was Deadpool waking up, but when you turned around, it was to see Logan squinting up at the ceiling.

You froze, not daring to move a muscle. Logan blinked a few times before he began to sit up. He stopped and then tilted his head up, sniffing the air. You had always found the way he used his enhanced sense of smell adorable, even if no one else did. He suddenly turned and buried his face in your pillow, pulling in deep breaths. He reached up to clutch the pillow in his hand as he sat up, keeping it pressed to his face.

You weren't even really sure what was going on, so by the time he finally lowered the pillow and met your gaze, you were staring at him completely dumbstruck.

Several emotions warred for control on Logan's face when he saw you. Grief, despair, heartbreak, hope, disbelief, and relief. Finally, he seemed to pull them all together into a neutral expression.

"Y/N," he started, taking a step towards you.

You instinctively took a step back. You knew that this Logan wasn't the one who hurt you, but it was hard to let all of that go when someone who looked exactly like your Logan was staring right at you.

"You're alive," he tried again, taking another step, as if he was drawn to you.

"I am," you answered, your hands clenched into fists at your side. You couldn't handle the way Logan was looking at you. He looked at you like you were his whole world. You would have killed to get your Logan to look at you like that. But having it now, from a different Logan, felt equal parts thrilling and unsettling. "Who am I to you?" You asked, needing to know what you were dealing with now. You had assumed maybe you were part of Logan's team in his universe, but he was hopelessly in love with Jean and didn't give a fuck about you. The way he was looking at you told an entirely different story.

"You're--," he started before he looked down at his left hand. You could see a wedding band around his ring finger. "You're my wife," he finally admitted as he balled his hand into a fist. "You were, at least," he added with a grimace. "And me? What am I to you in your universe?"

You didn't know whether to tell the truth or lie. But Logan had always known you way too well and any story you spun would unravel as you told it. "I loved you," you finally confessed. "But you left me for someone else," you continued, noting the way Logan's expression tightened, rage flashing in his eyes.

"Who?" He growled, advancing on you.

It was your biggest shame and worst heartbreak, so you faltered over the name for a moment. But you weren't even in the same universe as her or him anymore and it was time for you to stop running from your pain.

"Jean. He left me for Jean, alright? It didn't matter that I loved him and it didn't matter that we were together. Scott died and Jean needed someone and apparently that couldn't be anyone but him. He told me it was nothing, but I knew. He never looked at me the way you just did. He looked at her like she was the only person he cared about and when he left me for her, I ended up here," you hissed, finally walking towards Logan. "And I bet neither of them ever gave a fuck that I just up and disappeared. So, seeing you now has brought up all the shit he put me through," you snarled, reaching out to push at his shoulder.

"Y/N, I--," he started, reaching out for you. His expression was nearly reverent as he let his hand fall on your shoulder.

"Don't," you said, pushing away from him. "I'm not your wife," you snapped, hating the way his expression closed off and was replaced with that look he got when he was trying not to feel anything at all.

"And I'm not him," he shot back. His gaze drifted to the side and he reached out to grab a bottle of Remy's whiskey. He popped the top off the bottle and took a long swig.

You heard someone groan before you looked over at Deadpool. He brought a hand up to his head and Logan turned to watch him. He took another drink, keeping the bottle close to his chest, as he approached Wade.

"Ugh, what's with the angry bear staring me down?" Wade wondered, finally sitting up. "Also, where the hell are we? Are we about to be skinned and used as decoration for some post-apocalyptic lair?"

"Do you ever shut up?" Logan growled, taking another drink.

You knew it took a lot to get Logan drunk, but at the rate he was going, he would end up there by nightfall.

Deadpool finally scanned the room and noticed you. He got to his feet and pointed a finger at you. "Oh, holy shit. You're Y/N! You're a big part of this guy's tragic backstory, I can tell ya that, so what are you doing here?" Wade reached out to clap a hand to Logan's shoulder and got brushed off.

"That's enough!" Elektra called before walking into the room.

Wade looked shocked to see Elektra, but his eyes went wide at the sight of Blade striding into the room. Gambit then made his entrance before Laura took up the rear of the group.

Introductions went around, before Wade started in on Gambit and his accent. You could tell Remy was reluctantly amused, but he was distracted by something else.

Remy dismissed Wade and focused in on Logan. He shot you a quick, concerned look before he began flipping a card as he studied Logan. "Well, we've never had a Wolverine up in here before. Not sure we've ever wanted one here before," he said with another look at you. "I can tell you now it's just a common courtesy to at least ask before you go drinking up all my liquor."

"It's a good thing I don't give a fuck," Logan responded before taking another drink.

Remy's eyes burned red as he muttered an insult under his breath. He let the card in his hand go, letting it slice the bottle of liquor in half. Glass and whiskey rained down on Logan's boots, but he looked unbothered. He reached out to grab another bottle before pulling the top off and taking a drink.

"Oh, you sure are an asshole, aren't you? I'm starting to see why you hate this one," Remy continued, aiming the last sentence at you.

"You hate him?" Wade asked, whipping his head back and forth, from you to Logan and back again. Wade gasped and turned to point an accusing finger at Logan. "You and you," he pointed to you, "aren't a you in your universe?" He pressed his hands together, letting his fingers interlock. "What'd he do? Was he too busy practicing his brooding in the mirror? He try to slip you a little adamantium surprise in the bedroom? Did he--"

"Shut up," Logan snapped, tightening his grip on the bottle in his hand.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you admonished Wade.

Wade held his hands up in surrender, but he reached out to put a hand on Logan's shoulder. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, my friend," he consoled before he approached you. He held his arms out as he walked towards you. "Come here, baby bird, and tell Papa Deadpool all about it," he said as he wrapped his arms around you.

"Get your hands off her," Logan growled, unsheathing his claws.

You brought a forcefield up between you and Wade. It was big enough to encompass his chest and abdomen and you used it to forcefully push him back. You slammed him into the wall, easing up, just to slam him into it again.

"Alright, alright," he coughed out, holding his hands up in surrender. "Don't piss off the Invisible Woman, got it," he conceded as you let your forcefield drop.

You rolled your eyes before crossing your arms over your chest. "That's not what they call me." The reminder of Johnny's sister brought up the worry you had for him. "Where the hell did you two come from?"

Wade did most of the talking and explained about the TVA, Cassandra, and their near-miss with Alioth.

"No one's ever made it out of Cassandra's clutches before," Elektra observed with something verging on respect in her tone.

"No one alive," Eric interjected with an unimpressed glare at Deadpool.

"Well, she is quite terrifying and a little grabby," Wade allowed with a nod of his head.

"One of ours has been missing for two days," you told Wade, carefully not looking at Logan. Logan had been watching you the whole time and you knew he was only mourning a ghost, but you hated how much you liked finally having Logan's undivided attention. "His name is Johnny. Did you see him?"

"The little flameball might've made an appearance, sure, but he's not with us," Wade explained with a flippant wave of his hand.

"Yeah, because you fucking got him killed with your big mouth," Logan snapped at Wade.

"Johnny's dead?" You asked, not wanting to believe it. You loved the others like family, but Johnny had practically been a brother to you. Sure, he let his mouth get him in trouble half the time, but he always managed to get himself out of it. "What the hell happened?"

"Cassandra decided she liked his insides on the outside," Wade answered, "because she's a megalomaniacal, psychotic asshole. Johnny’s words, not mine."

"Well, we've all been knowin' that," Remy said, idly shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. "But what're we gonna do about her, huh? She's got an army and we've just got us."

"Look, you've all been forgotten by your universes, but we can still take her if we team up. You got a Magneto here?" Wade questioned, hope in his voice that you knew was about to be crushed.

You moved to sit down at the table while you listened to the conversation carry on. There was a lot happening all at once and you didn’t know how to process any of it. Wade was desperate to get back to his own timeline, but Logan only seemed resigned. You didn't know how to accept the fact that Johnny was dead and you didn't know how to ignore the fact that Logan was still watching you.

When a plan was made to go after Cassandra and use Juggernaut's helmet to block her powers, you reluctantly agreed that it had some merit. If only because you wanted to get any type of revenge on Cassandra that you could to avenge Johnny.

The others were all on board and you knew most of them wanted nothing more than to bring Cassandra down as well. It was a suicide mission for most of you, but you figured if it meant stopping Cassandra and saving someone's universe, even if that someone was Wade Wilson, then it might be worth it.

"I'm in," you found yourself saying.

"Like hell you are," Logan cut in. "You'll just get yourself killed again and I can't--"

"I'm not dead," you pointed out, aware that the others were watching the pair of you. "I'm right here, because I'm not the one you lost."

"Well, I sure as hell don't want to go losing you again. You can't tell me you think this whackjob's plan is actually going to work out? He’s an idiot."

“Sticks and stones,” Wade muttered, rocking on his heels as he looked at Logan. “Sticks and stones.”

"You can do whatever you want," you told Logan, finally standing from your seat at the table. "But I'm going and if I die? Then at least I die doing something that's not just hiding and waiting for my inevitable end. At least I can help someone, even if it's a Deadpool," you said, gesturing towards Wade.

"Thanks?" Wade tried, sounding torn between flattered and insulted.

You didn't give Logan a chance to reply, because you left the room, opting to walk outside to get some distance from him.

Later, you heard from Remy that you were heading out first thing in the morning. You agreed to be ready by then and spent the rest of the evening invisible. You wanted to be alone, but you also hated the idea of losing one last opportunity to talk to Logan, even if he wasn't yours.

He was outside, staring into the fire he started, and steadily drinking Remy's liquor. You approached him as Laura was leaving his side. Even though you were still invisible, she seemed to know you were there, and walked around you.

You stayed a few feet behind him, watching him frown into the fire.

"I know you're there," Logan called out, turning to look over his shoulder. "You were never good at hiding from me."

You let yourself go visible before you continued to walk towards him. "My Logan didn't really give a shit about me, so I guess he knew where to find me, he just didn't care," you observed with a sigh. Having this Logan around was only showing you what you had missed out on in your universe with your Logan. You reached out to grab the bottle from Logan before taking a drink and handing it back. "You know, I wanted nothing more than for him to love me back. But I wasn't enough for him. And he knew, he knew everything I felt for him, but he never felt the same. I was just someone to warm his bed while his thoughts were with someone else."

Logan was quiet for a few moments before he held the bottle back out to you.

"You've made it clear you're not my wife," he started, keeping his gaze on the fire. "But I don't think you get that I'm not him. I see you and, God, I wish I could keep you safe. I wasn't able to save her. I wasn't able to save any of them and it's my fault my team, my family, my wife are all gone. I walked away and they died because of it," he admitted and you could see a tear begin to slip down his cheek. You had never seen your Logan so vulnerable and you didn't know what to do with this one. "I don't want to lose you again. I know you're not her, but I don't want to walk away and know that you died because of it."

"Then don't walk away," you whispered, moving until you were right beside him. You could feel the heat emanating off him and it sent a shiver down your spine. You had felt the chilling sense of isolation for so long that feeling Logan again felt like you were coming back to life.

"I know I wasn't happy to see you," you allowed with a grimace. "But since you got here, you've done nothing but remind me that I could have had what I wanted all along, but I was stuck in the wrong damn universe. And maybe it was possible for my Logan to love me all along and I just wasn't enough."

"Your Logan is a fucking idiot," he growled, finally looking at you. "You're here in this shithole because of him and you're ready to sacrifice yourself for someone you don't even know. He was the one who wasn't good enough. I guess I'm more like him than I would want to be."

You took a chance and reached out to grab Logan's hand. You were both grieving different people and you knew you weren't his wife, but you wanted to offer him comfort all the same. You also couldn't deny that the feeling of Logan's hand in yours felt like a balm for the pain you had been carrying around since falling into the Void.

His hand tightened around yours and you saw some of the tension leave his shoulders.

"You're enough, Logan," you assured him. "And I believe in you," you confessed. "You don't have to go tomorrow, but I'm going to be there. And if this is the last moment I ever get with you, then there's one thing I want to do."

Logan furrowed his brow in confusion before his expression smoothed out into surprise. You had leaned forward, just barely letting your lips brush his, waiting for him to either lean in or push you away.

You waited for a beat longer, sure you were making an idiot of yourself, before you felt Logan's hand at your hip. He pulled you closer, practically into his lap, as he returned the kiss. It was passionate and tender and in turns aggressive and searching. His tongue was twined around yours and his teeth were nipping at your lips and your head was beginning to spin from the rush. Logan let out a whimper and his hand clutched your hip tighter, and you knew you were going to have a bruise there by the next morning, but you didn’t mind that there would be a reminder of this moment.

You reluctantly pulled away, meeting his eyes and noticing how Logan looked like he was ready to drag you back into another kiss.

"Thank you," you whispered, reaching up a hand to brush your thumb over his bottom lip. You let it drag down briefly and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to it. Your Logan had been rough and demanding and uncaring, but the love and want this Logan had poured into the kiss had shown you what it would have been like for the love of your life to love you back. Maybe, with that memory, your death the next day would be a little sweeter.

"Y/N," Logan started, but didn't continue.

You offered him a sad smile and started to stand. "I should try to sleep. I've got a big day tomorrow."

You moved to leave, but Logan reached out and grabbed your hand. He reeled you back towards him, causing you to drop down into his lap, but he caught you by the hips. He wrapped his arms around your waist and trailed his hand up your back before it was resting against the back of your neck. He pulled you down into another kiss, this one just as intense, but less frenzied. Logan kept you in place with just the slightest pressure of his hand on your neck and you let him pour everything he had into it.

By the time you pulled away, you were breathless and speechless, reluctant to leave now that you had another taste of him.

"I'll see you in the morning," Logan promised, finally releasing you from his hold.

It took you while to shake off your daze, but then you realized what he was telling you.

You felt a smile tug at your lips before you got off his lap.

"See you in the morning," you agreed before leaving Logan in search of your bed.

The drive in the Honda Odyssey was cramped, but Wade insisted if it could house an all-night brawl between a Deadpool and a Wolverine, then it would hold the rest of you just fine all the way to Cassandra's lair. And then he started spouting off something about safety features and cup holders and you started to wonder if following his plan had been the dumbest thing you had ever done.

You found yourself sneaking glances at Logan at the rear of the car. He was watching you the whole time and every time your eyes met, a little spark of heat shot through you. Maybe he wasn't your Logan, but he had helped you begin to heal all the same. And now you were starting to fall for an entirely different Logan who was likely leaving the Void while you stayed behind and died to get him out.

Life had never been fair to you, but you hated that it was downright cruel to you as well.

By the time you were arriving at Cassandra’s, you were starting to wonder if there had ever been a happy ending for you in store or if it was just supposed to be one tragedy after another.

You lined up with the others as you faced down Cassandra's henchmen. You could see Azazel popping in and out of view and Psylocke trailing through the crowd. Juggernaut was staring down the group while Toad perched high above, a smirk on his face. There were dozens of them and you had no idea how you were going to pull it off, but even if you did die, at least it was to save someone's universe, even if it wasn't your own.

"You know how long I've been waiting for this? Ooohuee, I'm about to make a name for myself here," Remy boasted, eagerly bouncing on his feet while he began to charge a card.

"I don't think any of you walk away from this," Logan pointed out, sending a quick glance your way.

"You just make sure they know what happened here today," Remy continued, not seeming to care that he was staring death right in the face.

"We'll watch your six," Blade told Logan and Wade. "You get up there and we'll get you that helmet."

Before he could follow Wade, Logan turned to you and pulled you close. He pressed a kiss to your lips, one full of longing and grief. "I don't want to leave you," he murmured into the kiss.

You pulled back to meet his eyes, ignoring the fact that you felt like you were losing him all over again. "What you're fighting for is more important," you told him. "Maybe we'll meet again in another universe."

"Maybe," he agreed before kissing you again.

This one was brief, but it left you wanting more.

You watched Logan follow Wade before you were caught up in the fight between your friends and Cassandra's lackies.

The fight was terrifying, because the stakes were so high. You flickered in and out of visibility as needed and used your forcefields to protect your friends or attack your enemies. You used a forcefield to gather rocks and then propelled it into someone just to turn invisible to avoid someone's knife.

You were exhausted as the battle waged on and you knew that circumstances were beginning to look dire for you and your friends. Most of you were hurt and bleeding, and the fight was beginning to drain out of you.

You got distracted by Laura taking Juggernaut out and managing to get his helmet up to where Logan and Wade were no doubt dealing with Cassandra despite Psylocke intervening. You moved towards them, but you felt a searing pain in your side and you looked down to see the end of Azazel’s tail sticking through your flesh.

He jerked you back towards him and a blade sliced through his tail, freeing you. You were quick to form a forcefield around Azazel before he could escape and you began to press in on the sides, shrinking it down so he had nowhere to go. You could see him trying to teleport out, but it wasn’t working, and a look of panic flashed across his face.

You kept pressing in until his skin started to split and blood began to pour. All at once, you swept the sides in, watching as Azazel was crushed. You let the forcefield go and watched as his remains fell to the ground with a splat.

“You squashed him like a bug,” Eric observed with a nod of his head, cleaning Azazel’s blood off his blade. “Impressive.”

“Thanks,” you smiled at Blade, glancing down at the gash in your side.

“Keep your head,” he warned you just as someone rushed at you. You went invisible and stepped to the side, letting them impale themselves on Eric’s sword.

The battle took twists and turns, but after getting stabbed in the shoulder and nearly losing consciousness when someone hit you on the back of the head, you realized that the bodies were starting to drop, but your friends were still standing.

You figured your victory would be short-lived when the skies began to darken and Alioth showed on the horizon.

“He’s looking for a meal,” Elektra grunted, avoiding a hit to the side before using one of her twin sais to bring someone to their knees. She finished them off with a strike to their neck before she turned to look at the rest of you. “We need to get the hell out of here.”

You were distracted by a portal opening up in the air above you and you looked up in time to see Logan and Wade jumping through it.

Someone grabbed your arm and you instinctively moved to hit them, but you realized it was Elektra.

"Come on!" She yelled over the roar of Alioth and pulled you to cover inside Cassandra's lair.

"That was a close one," Remy said as he helped Blade into the makeshift shelter.

"But they got away," Laura pointed out with a small, satisfied smile.

"And we got to kill the fuckers that've been making our lives hell," Remy added with a grin. "Any of you see that one trick I pulled? I got the cards charged up and then guy went boom."

He looked so pleased with himself that you couldn’t stop the helpless little laugh you let out. The past few days had felt absurd and surreal, and you couldn’t even tell if it was all some fever dream. Maybe Remy had spiked his liquor to keep unsuspecting people out of it and you were currently back in the hideout, riding out one terrifying trip.

But when you twisted to the side, you felt like your side was splitting open all over again and you let out a gasp. Elektra knelt at your side, studying your wound with a frown.

"So, what happens now? Are we just stuck here until we know it's clear? We go back to our hideout and wait forever? Half of us need some kind of medical attention,” she pointed out, searching around her until she found a discarded jacket. She pressed it against your side and you let out a hiss of pain.

"Well, we didn't die, so at least there’s that," you offered with a shrug of your shoulders. "I figure we've earned some retirement. Even if we're still stuck here," you allowed with a wince as you pressed a hand to your shoulder. The wound was deep and still bleeding, but you figured you had suffered worse before. You were going to need stitches and painkillers and some more of Remy’s liquor, but at least you were still breathing.

You weren't sure how long you waited for the storm to pass, but by the time you got back outside, it was already dark. Most of the bodies were gone, consumed by Alioth, and you leaned into Elektra’s side as she helped you navigate the various body parts left behind.

"Think the car will make it back?" Remy wondered, surveying the Odyssey with its crushed sides and flat tires. It was practically drenched in blood and viscera, nearly indistinguishable as a vehicle.

"Why don't you start it up and see?" Eric prompted, looking at Gambit like he thought he was a special kind of stupid. “Maybe we can ride one of your little cards back to the hideout. How far can you throw them?”

"That won't be necessary," a voice interrupted, startling you.

A portal had opened up to your left and a woman had walked through it. She had soldiers behind her who were wearing uniforms with a TVA logo stamped on the right arm.

"Wade Wilson struck a deal for all of you," the woman continued, surveying the group. "It's time for all of you to go home."

“Home?” Remy repeated with a skeptical look at the rest of you. “What if we don’t have a home?”

“Then wherever you’d like to be,” she amended. “With conditions, of course.”

It turned out that Wade and Logan not only saved Wade's universe, but every universe. Cassandra had wanted nothing to exist except for the Void where she reigned and both of them had managed to stop her.

You never considered that your fight with Cassandra’s minions wound end with anything except for your death. You certainly never thought you would have the option to leave the Void.

You definitely didn't want to return home, so you asked if you could stay in Wade's universe. Logan and Laura had opted to stay as well and since your variant had never been born in Wade’s universe, you were welcome to stay. It felt like you were getting the opportunity to carve out the kind of life you wanted all along. One where you knew you would be welcome and wanted without fearing that you would be abandoned for someone else.

Now, you were sitting around a table with Wade's family and the beginnings of a new one for you. Laura was sitting to your left and Logan to your right and you couldn't help but feel like this was where you had belonged all along.

Logan had admitted that he wasn't allowed to try to save the people in his universe, but he wanted to be whatever you needed or wanted him to be in your new one. You knew that was a daunting order for someone like Logan, so you settled for telling him that you wanted to start at the beginning.

You wanted to get to know this Logan, because even though you already loved him, you knew that you wanted a clean slate. One where you weren’t comparing him to your universe’s Logan and one where you gave him every opportunity to show you that he was better. You also didn’t want him to just see the ghost of his wife in you, so you wanted him to get to know you.

You soaked up the love and laughter that flowed through the room and met Logan's gaze. You weren't even surprised to see that he was already watching you. You reached out to grab his hand, delighting in the way he immediately welcomed your touch.

You no longer felt forgotten and hopeless. Everything you had yearned for, fought for, in your old life had quite literally dropped right into your new one and you couldn't have been more grateful for another shot at happiness.

From the way Logan smiled at you and brought your hand up to kiss the back of it, you knew he was just as appreciative at the opportunity to turn his life back around.

"Thank you," you whispered to him, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder.

"Nothing to thank me for," he answered before dropping another kiss on the crowd of your head.

You wanted to argue with him and tell him that he had saved you, but you figured you would tell him later. For now, you were going to enjoy the feeling of belonging you felt and look forward to the fact that there would be a later with Logan.

Edited To Add: I am writing a sequel! It's going to involve Cable (even though he didn't test well) and Logan getting payback on reader's original Wolverine on her behalf and a whole bunch of other fun surprises!! If you want to be tagged, just let me know!

The sequel is HERE for anyone interested!

This is now a whole series! Main post for the series is HERE.