#sorry hope its okay to just add my thoughts on here

[greenxgloss]

Hello hello!! My first time requesting here <3 Can i request a bf g dragon x reader where its the morning after boom shakalaka-ing (take my phone away whats wrong with me—)

A/N: im laughing maniacally rn bc i loved the way this turned out and I hope you do too. also this was literally so funny and guess what they're def gonna boom shakalaka again. sooo sorry for how short this is I didn't know how to change it up or add to it

Summary: What began as a fleeting night stretches into something harder to leave behind. When paths cross again, curiosity outweighs caution—and neither of you pretends it meant nothing. Word Count: 2.3k Themes: Explicit References, Alcohol Consumption, One-Night Stand Turns More

You try to slip out unnoticed, clutching your heels and dignity. But he’s already awake, propped against the headboard, tattoos half-covered by the sheet and a lazy smirk playing on his lips.

"Leaving without breakfast?" he asks, voice low and smooth like the jazz still playing from last night’s playlist.

You means to say yes. But then he’s in the kitchen—barefoot, shirtless, cooking eggs like he’s done this a hundred times. Like youre not strangers. Like you belong here.

He doesn't press for your name, just hands you coffee in a chipped mug and brushes a kiss to your shoulder like it’s second nature.

And just like that, youre not sure it was a one-time thing after all.

With a quiet sigh of resignation, you set your purse down on the edge of the tiny kitchen table, its chipped paint barely visible under the morning light bleeding through the small window. The view outside is nothing but a blur of rooftops and motionless traffic, but you barely notice it.

“I… I had a good time,” you say, your voice soft, a smile tugging at your lips as a faint blush colors your cheeks.

Jiyong doesn’t turn around. He’s standing at the stove, barefoot and shirtless, the tattoos on his back flexing with every movement. He cracks an egg into the pan like he’s done it a thousand times, the sizzle a sharp contrast to the silence in the room.

“Do you mean that,” he asks, tone calm but pointed, “or are you just trying to escape gracefully?”

His voice is teasing, but it’s laced with something sharper—curiosity, maybe. A challenge. You hesitate for half a second before standing, feet silent against the hardwood as you make your way back into his room. His shirt is crumpled on the floor, the same one he peeled off last night without much ceremony. You slip it on—it swallows you whole, still warm from his skin—and return to the kitchen.

“No, I meant it. It was… really good, actually,” you reply with a shy laugh, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt as you sit down again.

Jiyong glances at you over his shoulder, smirking. “Thought so,” he says, flipping a strip of bacon. “Never heard someone scream like that before. And the way your legs were shaking—”

“Okay!” You laugh, eyes wide with playful embarrassment. “Jesus.”

“What?” he grins, finally turning to face you fully, holding your gaze as he sets a plate in front of you stacked with bacon, eggs, and two slightly burnt Eggo waffles. “There’s no shame in knowing you did something right.”

You open your mouth to reply but come up short, caught somewhere between a scoff and a smile. You pick up your fork instead, trying to keep your composure while he makes no effort to hide his amusement.

“I don’t even know your name,” you murmur, eyes dropping to your plate.

Jiyong leans in then, slowly, his own breakfast forgotten for the moment. His bare knee brushes yours under the table as he slides his chair closer—intentionally, unapologetically. When you glance up again, he’s already watching you.

“You don’t remember my name,” he corrects, his voice velvet-smooth. “You said it plenty last night. Screamed it, actually.”

Your mouth opens in protest, but no sound comes out. He chuckles and finally extends his hand like he’s meeting you for the first time, all over again.

“Jiyong,” he says, eyes dancing. “Pleasure to formally meet you.”

You hesitate only a second before placing your hand in his. His grip is warm, confident. And lingering.

Something in your chest tightens.

Maybe this breakfast is more than just a courtesy.

Maybe you are, too.

You take his hand, trying not to think about how good it feels. His palm is calloused, warm, grounding. His thumb brushes over the back of your hand in a lazy circle before he lets go, but not before he gives your fingers a little squeeze that leaves you rattled in the best way.

“Do I get yours?” he asks, cocking his head slightly. That half-smile returns—mischievous, a little dangerous, but easy to fall into. Just like last night.

You finally offer it. Your name slips from your lips a little slower than you intend, as if saying it somehow makes this more real.

He repeats it back to you, low and deliberate, like he’s testing it on his tongue. Like he already knows it by heart.

“I like the way it sounds. Especially when you're out of breath,” he adds, sipping his coffee with maddening calm.

You roll your eyes and take a bite of the waffle, which is a little overdone but tastes better than you expected. Or maybe it's just him. The way he moves, unbothered, like he's completely at home in this tiny apartment with a stranger wearing his shirt and no pants.

“I don’t usually do this,” you murmur, chewing slowly.

He hums, unfazed. “Sleep with men whose names you don’t remember, or eat breakfast with them the next morning?”

You shoot him a look. “Both.”

“Then I must be special,” he grins, leaning back in his chair. “Unless you tell that to all your one-night stands.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you retort, smirking behind your coffee mug.

His gaze lingers on you for a beat too long, eyes flicking from your mouth to your legs curled under you on the chair. There’s heat there—undeniable, unhurried. But something else, too. A curious kind of attentiveness. He isn’t just looking at you. He’s studying you.

“I would,” he says, voice lower now. “I’d like to know everything, actually. What makes you blush like that. What makes you laugh. What you’re thinking about right now.”

Your breath hitches, and you glance away, embarrassed at how easily he disarms you.

“I was thinking about leaving before you woke up,” you admit softly.

He doesn’t flinch. Just tilts his head again, watching you carefully. “Why didn’t you?”

You hesitate. You could lie. Say the waffles smelled good. Say you were too tired, too lazy to slip out the door. But the words that come out are the truth before you even realize they’ve left your mouth.

“Because you were warm,” you whisper. “And you… held me like you meant it.”

Jiyong’s expression softens, the cocky edge to his smile fading into something more intimate.

“I did,” he says simply. “Mean it.”

He leans forward then, elbows on the table, his knee brushing yours again, slower this time. “You don’t have to run. Not yet. Finish your eggs. Let me make you another coffee. And if you want to pretend this is more than what it started as—just for a little while—I won’t stop you.”

Your fork hovers above the plate. You blink. Slowly.

“Would you?”

“What?”

“Want it to be more?”

He gives you that look again—like he’s peeling you open, thought by thought.

“I don’t say this often,” he murmurs, “but I’d like to see you again. After today. Clothes on, preferably. But if you insist…” He trails off, that devilish smirk returning as he reaches over and gently plucks a crumb from your lip with his thumb. “Either way, I’m not in a rush to forget you.”

The air between you feels charged now, humming with possibility.

You glance at the clock on the wall, then at your phone lighting up with unread messages.

And then you look at him. Barefoot, shirtless, tattooed and calm as ever. Sitting across from you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And suddenly, leaving doesn’t feel so urgent anymore.

-

Three days later, you spot him across the room before your brain fully registers it. You’re standing in the corner of a dim bar downtown, wrapped in soft laughter and secondhand smoke, a friend’s drink in one hand and your phone in the other—when a shift in energy pulls your gaze to the far end.

And there he is. Jiyong. In all black. Rings on his fingers, tattoos peeking past the rolled sleeves of a button-down shirt that doesn’t belong in this dive but looks obscenely good on him anyway. He’s got a glass of something dark in one hand and a lazy grin on his face like he owns the place—or maybe just the moment.

He sees you before you can pretend otherwise.

His brows lift in subtle recognition, like, well, well, look what the universe dragged in.

You brace for a nod, a polite smile, maybe a wave if he’s feeling generous.

Instead, he starts walking toward you. Of course, he meant what he said the other morning. How could you doubt that?

You try not to panic.

“Twice in one week?” he says when he reaches you, his voice smooth enough to drown in. “I must be dreaming.”

“I could say the same,” you reply, sipping your drink to give your mouth something to do. “You stalking me now?”

“If I were, I’d be better at it.” His grin widens. “I would’ve ‘bumped into’ you with better lighting. Maybe coffee. Less noise.”

“You make it sound like a date.”

His eyes skim down your figure—slowly, appreciatively, with enough heat to make your stomach flutter. You loved how he didn't have to touch you, reach for your hip or even pull you close to entice you. it was the way his eyes trailed you and the delay in his words because he was studying every minor expression, making sure to catch every little way your nerves peeked through to him.

“It could be.”

You scoff, trying not to smile. “Pretty bold for a guy I only spent one night with.”

“Pretty bold for a girl who stayed for breakfast,” he counters, and your cheeks heat instantly.

You hate how easy it is with him—how his presence nudges something loose in you. Something that hasn’t felt this alive in a long time.

“What are you drinking?” he asks, already flagging the bartender over without waiting for your answer.

“You don’t even know if I want to keep talking to you.”

“Then tell me to walk away,” he challenges, voice lower now. “Say the word and I’ll vanish.”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. And he knows. Damn it, he knows.

He leans in, breath brushing your ear as he murmurs, “Didn’t think so.”

A drink is set in front of you. Your favorite, somehow.

You stare at it, then back at him. “How did you—?”

“I remember more than just how you sound when you fall apart,” he says, soft but wicked. “You talk in your sleep, remember?”

You shake your head, exhaling a laugh. “I really shouldn’t like you.”

“But you do,” he replies, clinking his glass gently to yours. “At least a little.”

You sip. He watches.

It’s dangerous, this game. But the pull is magnetic, impossible to ignore.

You can still feel echoes of the night—his hands on your hips, grounding you as if he needed you steady just as much as you needed to fall apart. The way he looked at you in the half-light, eyes dark and unwavering, like he wasn’t just seeing your body but memorizing every way you moved beneath him.

You remember the way his breath stuttered when you whispered his name, the way he slowed down right before you shattered, like he wanted to make it last. Like he wanted to remember the exact moment you gave in.

And the way he held you after—arms tight, heartbeat steady, no words exchanged but everything said. Peppering soft kisses on your shoulders. That kind of sexual chemistry is rarely produced on the first time together. You think that might be why you can't stop thinking about it.

“Tell me something real,” you say suddenly, voice steadier than you feel. “Something not smooth or sexy. Just… real.”

Jiyong pauses. And then, without flinching, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

He says it like a confession—quiet, raw. Not just words, but truth with teeth.

And just like that, your breath catches. A heat appears in your stomach and slowly drips to the spot between your thighs. Fuck he's got you.

“I don’t do well with what-ifs,” he adds. “I like answers. So tell me—are you just a night I got lucky with, or are you someone I’m going to keep finding in every crowd I walk into?”

You avoided this question the other day, though you knew what you wanted, but you couldn't be sure that he was telling the truth. Men are... men.

You don’t answer right away. Not because you don’t know, but because the world seems to still itself for a moment—like it’s holding its breath, waiting alongside you. The clatter of glasses, the hum of conversation, the low thump of bass-heavy music—it all fades into something distant, muffled beneath the sudden rush of your pulse.

His eyes are steady on you, searching, quiet but intent. His hand rests on the bar, just inches from yours, and somehow the space between your skin feels more alive than touch itself. It would take nothing—just the tiniest lean—for your fingers to brush. But neither of you moves. Not yet.

Your heart is louder than the music now, beating against your ribs like it wants to answer before your mouth does.

You take another sip, mostly to ground yourself, partly to stall. The drink is smooth, familiar. Comforting in a way nothing else here is. You let the silence stretch, let the moment thicken, until the words come out softer than you mean them to—fragile, like a truth you weren’t quite ready to speak aloud.

“I guess that depends,” you say, lifting your eyes to his. “On how good the next breakfast is.”

For a second, he’s still—just watching you, like he’s replaying the words in his head to make sure they’re real. And then, slowly, that grin breaks across his face. Not cocky. Not playful. But warm. Quietly stunned. Like you’ve just handed him a second chance he didn’t know he was hoping for. Like you’ve made something possible that didn’t exist a moment ago.

And just like that, the night shifts.

Something unspoken settles between you—delicate, uncertain, but undeniable.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “You haven’t even tasted my pancakes yet.”

➽ G Dragon Masterlist ➽ Main Masterlist ➽ Kpop Masterlist ➽ Yoongi Masterlist ➽ Buy Me a Coffee

[killjoygem]

As much as I wouldve liked them to have more individual attention I actually really liked that the lost of Grace didnt bring them closer together, that came later. Its such a refreshing take on the situation, honestly it wouldvr been nice to see it leaned into even harder– have Ryan and Graham come along at first but the bitterness there eventually leads to problems

Also I can't personally imagine Yaz ever not being a full time companion 😅 I think if I was gonna change it I think I'd make it more like a river song situation where Ryan and Graham show up for 2-3 episodes every now and then

Or maybe playing off my earlier idea, all three of them are there at first but then Problems lead to one of them staying back on earth (my first instinct is Graham but thinking about canon— Ryan was the first to leave), then later another earth based adventure brings them together again

Then once the arc with Ryan and Graham finishes, they both go home and we get the doctor and yaz alone for a bit, and we can create doctor-only episodes through similar mechanisms to the Lodger, or just have one set during a period where Yaz is at home visiting family other whatever

Putting aside the controversy of Thirteen's run, I think there's a very simple way that her tenure could've been massively improved, and that's to just cut down the number of companions.

Chibnall has a habit of overloading his casts, and it's objectively awful each time. (Staring directly at you, Dinosaurs on a Spaceship, six leads what were you thinking?!)

What I would've done, personally, is split up the "fam" early on. Let that first episode be the same, introducing these characters to the Doctor. But here's where I'd change it:

When offered to travel, Graham and Ryan say no. They're grieving, they've just lost a family member, one that they both loved so much. That loss brings the two of them closer, but they don't need a big fancy adventure to cement that. They say no, and they stay home.

Yaz, however, says yes. Partly because the Doctor is a new mystery, and as (excuse me while I gag) a policewoman, Yaz is going to be drawn to that. But also because she's bored of her life. She's working a job that's sticking her with low-level calls (understandably, she's new), and she's just so bored of it, so when the Doctor promises a trip and that they can get back "in just five minutes," Yaz agrees.

First series companion: Yaz. Just her and the Doctor. This gives them more time to build a genuine friendship and bond, unlike the actual canon which was... surface level at best all around. Let them understand one another, have Yaz bring out the Doctor's sillier, feminine side (since she was most Definitely masculinised to try and appeal to the fanbase). Let them have some fun adventures, some thrilling ones, some dangerous ones, and let them become the Besties we know in our hearts they should've been. (We got bits of that in series 13 before the cast was bloated again, but like. Imagine a full series of that dynamic. The sheer badass potential. I crave it.)

Next series, something happens closer to home, and Yaz decides to become a part-time companion instead, choosing to stay on Earth more frequently than dashing off with the Doctor, staying with her family, working her normal job with the satisfaction of knowing that she's not cut off from the Doctor for good. (More akin to the 11/Ponds dynamic, rather than the Doctor's usual practice of vanishing on past companions.)

As for who would 'replace' her as a full time companion, I'd like it to be Ryan for a time, but not Graham yet. As much as I adore the granddad/grandson dynamic of Ryan and Graham, I think Graham had a tendency to overtake quite often, and Ryan was often the afterthought. I'd love to see Ryan really step up into that role, having gotten through his grief over his grandmother. (During this, I'd like to think that Graham somehow meets and befriends Dan, because he really does need a friend who is not his grandson or his grandson's old school mate, Yaz.)

Ryan and the Doctor could have a lot of really great moments, and I think that having the Doctor travel alone with Yaz first would've prepared her more for the intricacies of social interaction this time around, so she's more adept at handling Ryan's story, and more open to him on an emotional level, almost taking on a parental type role with him.

I think, then, it'd be fitting to have a split-season model (like series 7a and 7b), where Graham finally comes aboard in the later half, convinced to go on "just one trip" with his grandson. We get the family dynamic there between Graham and Ryan, on much more solid ground now that they've had time off-screen to put in the work for their own relationship and grief. We also get Graham taking on a sort of brotherly, almost paternal role towards the Doctor, too, because she looks so young despite her real age, and Graham is just as protective of her as he is of Ryan, and the Doctor is equally protective towards the both of them.

Then, give Thirteen a few episodes fully on her own. Give her the space to take what she's learned from her latest companions and internalise it, give her room to work on her own, either by choice or by necessity. Really delve into this 'new' incarnation of the Doctor, what she's capable of. Three episodes, I'd say. Then, have her go and pick up the 'fam', because she's learned how to ask for help this time around, and she knows she needs her friends by her side for whatever is to come. Along the way we can have her meet Dan, a one-off companion, and a handful of the rest of the bloated cast (seriously how were there so many main characters in a NINE EPISODE SERIES jfc I am taking your pens and keyboards away from you, CC), and etc etc etc.

Just by breaking up the companion structure, suddenly the plot and the characters have so much more room to breathe and become a cohesive unit by the end of it. I understand that Chibnall wanted to shake up the typical formula by having three simultaneous companions, but it just fell flat, and the end result was that none of those characters - even the literal lead of the goddamn show - had any space to develop. Genuinely, if you asked me to recount a single line by ANY of those companions, I couldn't give you an answer. Not a single one. Ask me to do the same for Clara, or Amy, or Rory, or Donna, Martha, Rose, hell even fucking Astrid, and I'd be able to give you a few each, probably verbatim, because those characters were developed.

Sometimes, the formula of a show needs to be shaken up. But sometimes it's been the same for a long time because it works. This is one of those cases.

[this-is-tiny-mia]

Sorry, wrong number (H.S. One Shot) Part 2.

General Masterlist THIS IS A PART 2 - YOU CAN FIND PART 1 HERE Summary: A wrong-number text leads to an unexpected connection between a you and a stranger. What starts as a playful exchange quickly becomes the highlight of their days, leaving you curious about the man behind the messages.

A/n: OKAY again, i wasn't expecting SO MUCH love to this One shot, i actually wasn't expecting anything tbh, I want to thank @eileenrry for giving me the last push to publish it, ily 🥹. Just a reminder, english is not my first language bare with me with grammar. and it's also my first One shot so be gentle 🥹. Andddd this isn’t the end there’s one more part coming. Anddd please let me know if I missed someone in the tag list, I’m trying to get used to tumblr again after a few years so everything it’s upside down for me.

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: Use of y/n, slow burn but things catch up quickly at the end, a small vulnerable moment. (idk if it counts as angst, please let me now if i should add another warning)

You froze, gripping your cup as if it could somehow tether you to reality. Your mind raced—what were you supposed to do now? Walk over and say hi? Pretend you didn’t see him? Was he expecting you to make the first move? Or maybe you were just desperately hoping to wake up from this fever dream.

Before you could decide, he pushed off the wall and started walking toward you. Shit. Shit. Shit. Your heart pounded in your chest. Every step he took felt deafening, like the slow-motion build-up to a climactic movie scene.

By the time he reached your table, you were caught between bolting for the door or sinking into your seat to avoid collapsing altogether. You knew him, of course—who didn’t? A few years ago, you even considered going to one of his concerts but didn’t manage to get tickets. It wasn’t something that crushed you; you weren’t the kind of fan to cry yourself to sleep over it. Instead, you shrugged it off with an “Okay, maybe next time.”

What you didn’t know was that “next time” would turn out to be a one-on-one meeting with him in a café, while he tried (and failed) to stay incognito.

“Hi,” he said, sliding off his sunglasses. That voice—his voice—sent a shiver down your spine. And then came that signature, disarming smile. “Is this seat taken?” he asked as he sat down without waiting for an answer. Of course, it wasn’t taken.

You stared at him, frozen, your mouth slightly parted. Every movement he made was deliberate yet casual, like he was completely at ease in this moment. Meanwhile, your brain was still scrambling to process whether this was real life or a fever dream. Somehow, you managed to breathe out a shaky, “Hi.”

For a moment, the space between you was thick with silence, though not uncomfortable—just charged. He gave you a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his neck like he wasn’t entirely sure how to begin.

“I guess this is the part where the serial killer takes the victim,” he said, teasing to break the tension. “Lucky for you, I’m not one—as you can see.”

You blinked, finally finding your voice, though it was a little wobbly. “No, no, I clearly see you’re not a serial killer.” A nervous smile tugged at your lips, trying its best to outshine the chaos of emotions tumbling through you.

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring. “Yeah. Guess fate wanted me to see if you’re as interesting in person as you are over text.”

Your face flushed, your mind racing to keep up. You weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment, disbelief, or something else entirely—a weird kind of thrill that you couldn’t quite place.

“Well,” you said, fighting to steady your voice, “I guess this is where I admit I didn’t think you were real—or at least, not this real.”

“How not ‘this real’?” he asked, his head tilting slightly as curiosity glinted in his eyes. “I mean, I’m way too real right now.”

“Like… I thought I was texting a random Harry,” you said, stumbling through your words, trying to explain yourself without sounding completely ridiculous.

“I’m still a random Harry,” he replied with a small shrug, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong. To himself, he was just Harry—not the Harry. You sat there for a moment, considering his words. In some strange way, nothing about him being this Harry changed what you’d already come to know. It didn’t undo the weeks of shared thoughts, the genuine conversations, the effortless way you clicked.

You thought about the little quirks you’d picked up from his texts—the way he used emojis just enough to be endearing but not overkill, the offhanded pictures of random things he’d shared, the teasing yet thoughtful tone that felt so easy to respond to. Famous or not, none of that felt fake.

“You’re right,” you said finally, a small smile breaking through your nervousness. “You’re still just Harry. The same Harry who asked for help picking nail polish colors like it wasn’t a BIG decision for a BIG brand” His laugh came easily, soft but genuine. “Hey, it wasn’t that big, i told you i already had those colors in mind.” He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. “But honestly, I’m glad it was you on the other side of those texts.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse still racing, but his words—and the way he said them—settled something in you. Maybe this wasn’t as surreal as it seemed. Maybe it was just two people who happened to find each other, one text at a time. “Why glad?” you asked, frowning slightly, not quite understanding what he meant. He leaned back a little, a soft smile playing on his lips as he considered his response.

“Because,” he said after a moment, “it’s rare these days to have a conversation that feels real, you know? No filters, no pretense. Just… people being themselves. And with you, it felt like that from the start.”

You blinked, his words hitting a little deeper than you expected.

“I mean, I didn’t know I was texting someone who I needed filters for to begin with,” you joked, trying to lighten the moment. He laughed, the sound warm and easy, a sound that felt like it reached across the table and wrapped around you. “That’s the point,” he said.

You paused, taking in his words. It felt big, weighty, yet oddly simple at the same time. Like he was trying to say something beyond the words themselves, but without complicating it. Instead of overthinking it, you just nodded, letting out a small, genuine smile.  “Well,” you said softly, meeting his eyes, “I’m glad it was me, too.”

He didn’t have much time that day, just stopping for a coffee on his way to the studio. You secretly wished this was that rom-com moment because moments like this only existed in movies, right? After some light small talk about the coffee and an exchange of polite goodbyes, he stood up to leave. You stayed behind, frozen, letting it all sink in—this wasn’t a dream. You felt butterflies over a pop star. You’d been talking to him for more than a month without knowing. Suddenly, your boring, predictable life felt like it belonged to someone else. It didn’t even matter what would happen from now on—this was your story.

----

"Morning, Tulip 🌷. Today’s question: Favorite recent album of all time?"

You didn’t expect a text from him the morning after. You figured he’d need time to process the fact that you’d actually met in person. But no, there he was, texting you like nothing had changed, his chill demeanor so endearing it almost made your heart ache.

"Is this a trick question?" you replied, grinning at your phone. "Because I don’t want to hurt your feelings if I don’t say it’s one of your albums."

The thought was surreal—bantering and teasing Harry Styles over text? That was straight out of fanfic material. (A/n: Not me breaking the fourth wall in my first fic lol.)

"Don’t worry, I wasn’t expecting you to say one of my albums," he replied. Of course, he wasn’t.

"‘You’ by Larry Lovestein," you texted back after a moment of thought.

"Love that," he responded quickly.

How was anyone supposed to concentrate on mundane daily tasks after meeting Harry Styles in a café the day before? And not only that, but he was texting you like you were the most interesting person in the world. And—AND—he had a nickname for you! A nickname.

"Y/N?" Gwen’s voice jolted you back to reality. You blinked twice, trying to refocus. "Yes?"

"Coffee?" she asked, smirking knowingly as she handed you a cup. "What’s up with you?" she said, sitting down next to you. 

"Nothing… just… clients, emails," you said quickly, trying to act like your insides weren’t throwing a full-blown party.

"Clients and emails, huh?" Gwen raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I’ve never seen you smile like that over clients and emails."

You swallowed hard, thankful she wasn’t too nosy. You didn’t want to risk sharing too much, not when you were casually texting with Harry Styles. That thought lingered—Why did he trust you? He could’ve easily stayed anonymous. He could’ve walked away from the café and pretended it never happened. Instead, he chose to tell you. It was terrifying to imagine how vulnerable that decision must’ve been for him. What if you were the wrong person? Someone who’d plaster it all over social media the next day? The weight of his trust settled over you, and for the first time, you realized just how fragile this connection was—and how much you wanted to protect it.

You weren’t rushing into anything; neither of you were. It was easy, light, and fun—like reconnecting with a long-lost friend, only this friend was Harry Styles. Over the next month, the “question game” continued, but it evolved. There were more pictures, videos, and now… voice notes. Yes, voice notes. You couldn’t help but replay them at the end of the day, savoring the sound of his voice as if it were a melody written just for you.

The intimacy deepened as more pieces of your lives were shared. Selfies of him at the studio, casual and effortless—selfies meant only for you. These weren’t circulating on Twitter or stashed in some secret Reddit thread. They were yours alone. And you shared back: snapshots of your day-to-day life—your desk cluttered with coffee cups, a corner of your office bathed in sunlight, and even a shy selfie taken at the café table where you’d first met him.

You didn’t know if you could call it a real friendship just yet, but it certainly felt like one. There was a comfortable rhythm between you now, a bond that felt genuine and unforced.

He clearly didn’t have much free time to casually meet again, though you hadn’t asked. The idea of seeing him in person again was both thrilling and terrifying. It wasn’t just his fame—it was the weight of the connection you were building. Trust was a fragile thing, and you both seemed to understand that. Brick by brick, you were quietly constructing something that felt worth protecting.

“How’s THIS cold today??” you texted, attaching a selfie where only your eyes peeked out from beneath two bulky jackets, a beanie, and a scarf. The icy weather was relentless, and staying home had been the original plan, but of course, the two important files you needed were on your office computer.

“How are you OUT in THIS cold? That’s the question” he replied almost immediately

“I need some files I left at the office. Forgot to upload them yesterday”

“Don’t freeze out then”

“I’ll try.”

You smiled at the screen, tucking your phone back into your pocket. It was so easy—he was so easy to talk to. You didn’t feel the need to answer immediately, and you didn’t panic when he didn’t either. It was a natural back-and-forth, effortless and grounding. The way he interacted with you made you feel like he wasn’t someone crazy famous, like he was just Harry—your Harry, in a way. And you hadn’t told anyone yet. It wasn’t exactly a secret, but you hesitated to share it. How would people react? Would they even believe you? For now, you were content to keep it to yourself. It felt special this way, untouched by the opinions or expectations of others. Just you and him, chatting like old friends.

In your mind, it was going to be a quick trip—drive downtown, grab the files, and rush back home under a cozy blanket. In your mind. But life had other plans, didn’t it? 

Sliding into your car after uploading the files and rubbing your hands for warmth, you turned the key in the ignition. A rusty, choking sound filled the air, followed by... nothing. “I’m sorry??” you exclaimed, staring at the dashboard as though sheer willpower would coax it to life. “No, no, no, you can break down TOMORROW! Not now!” Your fingers fumbled to turn the key again, and again, each attempt more pathetic than the last.

With a defeated sigh, you slumped back against the seat, a puff of breath visible in the freezing air. Accepting your fate, you pulled out your phone and opened your insurance app to report the issue. Unsurprisingly, the weather had caused delays, and it would be a while before they could send a tow truck. You quickly snapped a screenshot of the insurance chat and sent it to Harry. 

“I don’t know if I can keep my promise of not freezing out.”

His reply came almost instantly. “What?? Your car broke down??”

“Yep. They say it’s going to be a while because of the weather” you texted back.

“Where you at?”

“Parked in front of my office,” you replied, your stomach doing a small flip at how fast he was responding.

“No, I mean the address” he sent back.

Your heart skipped a beat. Was he serious? You immediately typed back

“Don’t even try it, I’m fineeee,” 

You lied, knowing full well you weren’t fine at all. But it wasn’t the cold or the broken-down car that had your stomach in knots. It was the thought of Harry coming to “save you” that sent a swarm of butterflies into overdrive. Because it wouldn’t just mean Harry coming to help. It meant seeing him again—really seeing him—since the big reveal. No screen between you, no casual texts to ease the nerves. Just him, in person, showing up for you in a way that made it harder to ignore what was happening between you two.

And as much as that idea thrilled you, it scared you just the same.

“Please?”

That was all it took. How can a girl resist a please from Harry Styles? Go ahead, i’ll be here waiting if you find someone. You sighed, caved, and typed the address, pressing send without overthinking. He didn’t reply, but he didn’t need to—you both knew what was about to happen. No confirmation was necessary.

Twenty-six minutes later, you were bundled in your car, trying to stay warm and still, counting down the seconds until the surreal became reality. The street was eerily quiet—only a few brave souls trudging through the cold. Who in their right mind would be out in this weather? That’s when you saw it—a black car pulling up right in front of yours. Your breath hitched as you recognized him in the rearview mirror, his eyes catching yours for a fleeting moment. Then, your phone buzzed.

“Did you order an Uber?”

You let out a chuckle, a mix of nerves and amusement, and grabbed your purse. Stepping out into the biting cold. Sliding into the passenger seat, everything about this moment felt surreal. The warmth of the car, the subtle hum of the engine, and, most of all, him—Harry, sitting next to you like this was the most natural thing in the world. Your movements felt slower, deliberate, as though your body and mind were bracing themselves for what this meant. Sitting in the same car with Harry Styles wasn’t something you had ever imagined happening, not like this.

“Hi again” you said softly, your breath visible in the cold air.

“Hi” he replied, flashing that disarming smile. “Need a friendly lift? or should I just keep pretending I’m an Uber driver?” You laughed, the tension melting just a little. 

“Well, that depends…what’s your rating?”

“Solid five stars,” he said, easing the moment even further. And just like that, the butterflies in your stomach settled into something a little calmer, a little more certain.

“Sounds good then,” you replied, falling into a silence that was more reflective than awkward. Your mind was spinning with a million thoughts—what this meant, how this even happened, and whether you’d wake up any second now.

“So, where to?” he asked, breaking the silence with a soft smile.

“Oh! Right,” you snapped out of your daze, quickly explaining where you lived. It hit you how crazy this was—months ago, you’d been so cautious, terrified to even drop a vague hint about your location. And now? Now, Harry Styles was driving you to your apartment.

“You really didn’t have to,” you said, glancing at him.

“I know,” he replied, flashing a smile that made your heart stutter.

The drive was… nice. Surprisingly nice. The small talk flowed naturally—not forced, not the awkward kind you’d exchange in an elevator. It felt easy, even comforting. If you didn’t look at him for too long, you were almost able to suppress the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Almost.

“Weren’t you busy? It’s a Thursday,” you asked, realizing the absurdity of the situation.

“You really think I know what day it is?” he replied, his tone light and sincere, not smug or pretentious—just endearingly innocent. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What, no color-coded calendar?”

He shook his head, grinning. “Nope. I’ve got the schedule of a 60-year-old retiree, not a nine-to-fiver. Days kind of blend together, you know?”

And there it was again—that disarming charm that made it all feel so normal. So easy. Like this wasn’t the most surreal thing that had ever happened to you.

“Yeah, I should’ve guessed,” you muttered with a small smile, trying to keep your voice steady.

The whole drive, your mind raced with scenarios. What would happen when you reached your apartment? Do you invite him in? Do you just thank him and say goodbye? And if—by some miracle—he did come in, did you even remember to pick up the clothes from the bathroom floor? But before you could spiral any further, his voice cut through your thoughts, casual and confident, like he already had the answers to all your questions.

“Can I invite myself over for a tea?” he asked, pulling into a parking spot in front of your building.

You blinked, caught off guard. “I was going to invite you,” you said quickly, defending yourself as you scrambled to regain composure.

“No, you weren’t,” he replied with a teasing grin, already stepping out of the car. And just like that, you knew the decision had been made for you. Butterflies? Gone. They’d evolved into full-blown fireworks. You shakily opened the door, praying the apartment was in some semblance of order. To your relief, aside from two glasses sitting on the kitchen counter, everything was in place.

“You can still blow me off if you’re busy,” he said, stepping inside and glancing around, taking in your space with quiet curiosity.

“It’s fine. Perks of being a freelancer,” you replied, heading to the kitchen and opening a cabinet to search for tea. “I don’t have many flavors, though,” you admitted, scanning the limited options.

“Well, it’s a good thing I like most,” he said with an easy grin. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“Okay,” you said softly, smiling as you set the kettle on to boil. While waiting for the water to heat, you found yourself watching him. He wandered a bit, casually inspecting the books on the shelf, a framed photo on the wall, and the little details of your life.

It was surreal—a good surreal—watching Harry Styles in your apartment, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Like how? How was this happening? And why did it feel so oddly natural, like a longtime friend had stopped by for a chat?

The sharp whistle of the kettle broke your trance. You quickly poured the tea, handing him one of the steaming mugs.

“Thanks,” he said, taking it with a small nod. Then, as if sensing your disbelief, he gave you a sly smile. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied, taking a sip of your tea to avoid answering further. Were you okay? Absolutely not.

He sat down on the couch, cradling the mug in his hands, and you followed, sitting on the armchair across from him. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was comfortable, filled with the sound of the occasional sip of tea and the faint hum of the heater working overtime against the cold.

“Nice place,” he said, his eyes scanning the room again before settling on you. “Feels very...you.”

You tilted your head, curious. “What does ‘me’ feel like?”

He chuckled softly. “Warm, cozy. A little bit of chaos in the details.” He nodded toward the stack of papers on your desk.

You groaned and put your head in your hands. “Okay, maybe I wasn’t fully prepared for company.”

“Nah, it’s perfect,” he said, grinning. “Makes it feel real.”

You smiled at that, the tension in your shoulders easing. “And your place? What’s it like?”

He leaned back, thinking for a moment. “Depends which one,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes dramatically. 

“Okay, fancy. You know what I mean. The one that feels most like home.”

His expression softened. “It’s quiet. Lots of books. A few random things I’ve collected over the years. Nothing too extravagant.”

“That’s not what I imagined,” you admitted honestly.

He raised an eyebrow. “What did you imagine?”

You hesitated, wondering if you should hold back or just say it. “I don’t know. Something...flashier? Like an MTV Cribs episode or something.” He laughed, a deep, genuine sound that filled the room.

“God, no. I’d hate living like that. Flashy isn’t my thing.”

The conversation flowed from there—effortless and natural. You talked about little things, like favorite movies and weird food combinations, and at some point, you stopped feeling like you had to pinch yourself. It just felt like two people enjoying tea on a cold day. Eventually, though, the tea mugs were empty, and the silence settled in again, this time heavier with unspoken thoughts.

“I should probably get going soon,” he said, breaking the stillness.

Your heart sank a little, but you nodded. “Right. Of course.”

He stood, stretching a bit, and you followed him to the door. He hesitated there, turning to look at you with a small, almost shy smile.

“Thanks for the tea,” he said, lingering. “And...for letting me pick you up.”

“Anytime,” you said softly, and you meant it.

As he stepped out into the cold, he glanced back one last time. “See you soon?”

“Yeah,” you said, watching him walk to his car, the promise of “soon” hanging in the air. You closed the door behind him, leaning against it as you exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. The room felt emptier now, even though he’d only been there for a short time. You glanced at the two empty mugs on the table, a small smile tugging at your lips.

For a moment, you let yourself replay everything in your mind—the way he casually fit into your space, the warmth in his voice, the way he lingered just a little before leaving. But then, your phone buzzed.

“Thanks again. Made the cold much more bearable.”

----

“Are you dating someone?” Gwen asked, her smile widening as she caught you grinning at your phone.

 “What? No, I would’ve told you,” you replied quickly, placing your phone face down on the table. Normally, that would’ve been true—you’d tell her about a new guy or someone interesting in your life without hesitation. But this wasn’t a normal situation. This was different. And as much as you tried to keep it hidden, clearly your expression was giving something away.

“Would you, though?” she teased, leaning in slightly, her tone playful but probing.

“Yes, I promise,” you said, hoping to sound convincing. Deep down, you felt a twinge of guilt. You’d apologize later for lying to her—she’d understand. At least, you hoped she would.

“What’s something you’ve never told anyone before?”

You hesitated, the weight of his question lingering in the air. “Something I’ve never told anyone?” you said to yourself, stalling, your mind racing. “Okay… when I was younger, I used to think I wasn’t enough for the things I really wanted. Like, I’d convince myself it was better not to try because failing would just prove it. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone that before.”

You stared at the text, feeling vulnerable. Naked even. It wasn’t easy to admit things like that, not even to yourself. But somehow, with him, it didn’t feel as scary. The way he spoke, the way he made you feel like he’d never judge you, created a space that felt safe.

"I think wanting things, letting yourself want them, is the bravest part. Like… taking that first step, you know? Even if it’s scary. Besides, from what I can tell, you’re more than enough. Probably always have been. You just needed to catch up to it."

You read that, smiling softly at your screen. It was strange—how he could make you feel like all those nagging voices in your head didn’t stand a chance against his words. Like he had this way of dissolving your doubts faster than your therapist ever could. Maybe it was because you believed him so easily, the way he spoke like he knew something you didn’t, like he could see a future you hadn’t dared to imagine yet.

"Wow, how much you charge per therapy session?" you texted, hoping to lighten the moment without brushing it off. "Your turn," you added, nudging him back into the conversation.

The pause before his response wasn’t long, but it was enough to make you wonder what he might say next.

"Sometimes, I miss being no one. Just… Harry. Not Harry Styles. I love what I do, don’t get me wrong. But there’s a part of me that wishes I could walk into a room and not feel like I have to be something for everyone. It’s strange. How can you be surrounded by people all the time and still feel like no one really sees you?"

You read his words slowly, letting them settle in. And then it hit you—both of you knew the feeling. Both of you felt seen by each other in the way you both wanted to be seen. It didn’t need to be said out loud, but it was there, clear as water.

"I met you as Just Harry. And ‘Just Harry’ is pretty awesome to me 😉. I still see Just Harry"

His reply came almost instantly.

"Thanks, Tulip 🌷❤️."

You stared at the screen, your heart skipping a beat. The little red heart stood out in the conversation like a tiny, unspoken promise. It was the first one either of you had shared. And somehow, it felt like a beginning.

The day went on as usual, no more texts exchanged. Both of you were busy, focused on work, yet your mind kept wandering back to Harry. How everything between you was unfolding—it wasn’t painfully slow, but it wasn’t rushing either. It was just… perfect.

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him. Sometimes you even laughed, scrolling through the gossip and pictures of him on Twitter. THIS is the man you knew? The same man who shared something he hadn’t told anyone else? It felt surreal.

Millions of people thought they knew him, adored him, and claimed a piece of him for themselves. But you—you really knew him. In a way that was different. Special. Personal. It was crazy to think about, but somehow, it felt right.

You were scrolling through many tweets in bed when it came. Another text.

"I’ve been around the world and back, and I still find myself wanting to talk to you about everything. What does that mean?"

PART 3

--- Taglist: @jackiehollanderr @proudravenclawbird @hopeyoustaythenight @maryjahps @obsessiveenthusiast @liiit44 @loveheart-123 @harrystyleshotwife @harryscherries28 @addiemb8332 @cumuluscranium @gguksfilter @alemunson42069 @sarah22194 @summertime-pills @hescrush @cosmomento @harrys-wifeyy

[prettyg1irlstears]

i js saw ur pillow princess reader x rafe blurb n its amazing !!

but how would rafe x gf!reader be when rafes friends have been bringing up about how it feels good when ‘the girl takes charge’ but she gets upset n self conscious cs she literally cant, shes js a pillow princess at heart !! she wld constantly ask rafe if shes good enough in bed, if its fine she cant ride him like his friends have been showing off :(((

first of all thank you!!<33 second of all i’m so sorry if i’m answering late, but i hope you’ll like it<3

softbf!rafe x sub!reader

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you’re in the large living room of tannyhill, a pretty sundress on while sitting of your boyfriend’s lap, listening to the conversation between him and his mates.

you were telling rafe that you’ll come tomorrow, that it’s fine if he wants to have a ‘all bro evening’, but rafe insisted on you staying, so you did, because you’re his good girl.

so here you are, playing with rafe’s fingers as the boys don’t bother to acknowledge or respect your presence and talk about their girls.

“bro, my girl’s wildin’ when she takes charge,” kelce boasted, smirking as he took a swing of his beer. “doin’ all the work, feels so good.”

your chest tugs anxiously, slightly squeezing rafe’s fingers as you listen.

“yea i feel ya, man,” topper adds, grinning as he high-fives kelce. “wish you could see the way sarah moves on me ‘cause like goddamn..”

you feel yourself getting uncomfortable, partly because they’re talking about their girlfriends like they were a piece of meat, but mostly because you know you’ll forever be a pillow princess.

“yo, top,” rafe feels jow uncomfortable you are, stroking your silky hair lovingly, thinking it’s just because the conversation’s too much for you. “it’s my sister, man, don’t be gross,”

“sorry bro, not my fault she’s freaky,” topper sneers, kelce chuckling along with him.

you withdrawn a little bit, nuzzling into rafe’s chest as your mind runs a marathon. you were never able to take charge, especially in bed. you and rafe tried it a few times, but you always get all shy and embarrassed, just simply not finding it in yourself to be dominant. but now, after you heard the boys’ conversation, you feel even worse than ever.

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“you okay, baby?” rafe asks you softly. the boys have already left, you’re now helping rafe clean the beer cans and pizza boxes. he has noticed something’s off — he always does.

“mm good ray, just tired.” you fake a yawn and give him a small smile.

that seems to make rafe calmer, maybe he just doesn’t want to press you. he comes over to you, placing his hands on your waist. “can we still do sum’ or are you like really tired?”

you chuckle and look up at him. “no we can still do something.” because even though you still feel bad, you can still feel a little wet spot making itself in your panties just from that one simple sentence.

rafe smiles and kisses you, his hands moving from your waist to squeeze your butt. “alright let’s get to bed, hm?”

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you thought it would make your mind go elsewhere, like always, but even when you’re a moaning mess under the muscular body of your boyfriend, you’re still thinking about it.

“what’s the matter, bunny?” rafe grunts into your neck as he kisses it, giving you long and deep thrusts.

“n-no, no!” you let out in a whimper, squeezing his shoulders. “please don’t stop.”

rafe smirks, slowing his pace even more as he bites on a soft spot of your neck. “then what is it?”

you whimper at that, but you can’t keep your worries inside anymore. “am i good enough for you?” as soon as these words leave your mouth, rafe stops, stilling inside of you, making you let out a small whimper of disapproval.

“baby.. baby look at me, will ya?” he gently takes your chin in his hand, making you look up into his eyes.

you look, his hand caressing your cheek as you look up at him with those puppy eyes of yours.

“why would you ask that?” he asks, his voice soft as he has no idea where this is coming from. “of course you are, you always were and always will, baby.”

“because i can’t ride you.. can’t make you feel good..” you say quietly, tears welling up in your eyes. “mm sorry rafe, i just can’t..”

“hey, hey, look at me, baby..” he makes you look at him again, his hands running through your hair and caressing your cheek. “that’s perfectly fine, bunny. you’re perfect, i swear to god,”

you’re looking into his eyes, nervously playing with his curtain bangs. “are you sure? ‘cause i felt really bad earlier..”

rafe chuckles a little, kissing your forehead. “baby, don’t listen to those two pricks. can’t appreciate their girls like i can apprexiate mine.”

he kisses your lips softly, slowly starting to move inside you again. “i love you being my little pillow princess.” he grunts at the movements, earning a tiny moan from you. “wouldn’t change for anything, baby.”

“you mean it..?” you ask, leaving out tiny whimpers as he moves slowly yet deeply, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“absolutely,” he whispers, kissing your lips while leaving out small moans. “don’t have any idea what you do to me like this.”

“alright..” you feel a shy smile growing on your lips, tugging on his hair as his tip hits that one spot inside you. “r-rafe.. please.. faster..”

“faster, yeah?” rafe smirks, increasing his pace, holding the side of your neck, earning sweet little moans from you that make his cock twitch inside of you.

“don’t need ya to take charge, baby..” he lets out a pretty moan into your ear. “js’ fucking you like this is enough for me to go absolutely crazy.”

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[lyn31]

Omg! I just read your Zayne fluffy oneshot "Lonely" AND IT'S SOOO GOOD!! Whoever request you is so genius! And your writing are good too!! I'm here to send a request... (Since I craving more of a pregnancy story with Zayne). Here's my idea : MC had a fake contraction when Zayne isn't around. She doesn't know it was a fake contraction, so she immediately called her husband in panic. After that he gave her a whole day lecture something like that. But then, MC protested that it was his fault for keep working late. The argument ended when Zayne got an emergency call so he had to leave immediately when MC was still pouting about it. Do you get it? I'm not good at words, hopefully you understand 😩😩

I'm hoping you also mean fluff because that's what I ended up with after all 😂 Well... I only write fluff, so I guess it was going to be fluff either way... 🫶🏻😩

And no worries, I gotchuuu! I'm also someone who has a difficult time with words. My writing is crisp because it went through A LOT of editing, research, and flipping through the dictionary 🥹🫶🏻 and I agree the first request is genius, hella cute and this add to it as well! (Also I'm sorry I change the after the call part but I thought this work well! Let me know what you think)

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Love

Summary

When an unexpected moment of unease catches you off guard, you do what you’ve been told to do—you call him. And even through the distance, his voice is steady, reassuring. But maybe… it’s not just comfort you’re searching for. Maybe what you really need is for him to come home.

Ao3 link

My Masterlist ✨

Notes

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader Technically, this could be a separate universe, but it also fits right in the middle of the rest as well! The parts link is at the end! Either way, Enjoy! 🥰

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You’re just about to sit down when you feel it—a sudden jolt of discomfort deep in your stomach. It’s not exactly pain, not sharp enough to make you gasp, but enough to make you pause. Your hand instinctively comes to rest over your bump, thumb rubbing slow circles over the stretched fabric of your shirt.

Cramps aren’t unusual at this stage. You’re in your second trimester, and little aches and twinges come with the territory. So you shake it off, exhaling softly as you settle onto the couch, phone in hand.

You flip open the novel you were planning to read, but your attention drifts almost immediately. You could read, sure, but now you’re thinking about holding a real book in your hands. The way the pages feel under your fingers, the crisp scent of new paper. Maybe you should convince Zayne to take you to the bookstore soon—if he’s not too busy. Or maybe that grill place you've been craving since yesterday is open today.

You huff, tapping idly at your screen. It’s not like you don’t understand his job. He’s a doctor, a fantastic one at that, and you’re immensely proud of him. But knowing doesn’t stop you from wanting. From missing him.

It’s probably just the hormones talking. You try to shake off the thought and refocus on your book.

But just after you finish one page, you feel the aches again. Your stomach tightens—uncomfortably so. Not sharp, but deep. A pressure that lingers, almost taunting.

Your breath catches. That’s—that’s different. It doesn’t fade right away, and a strange sort of urgency prickles at the back of your mind. Your palm presses against the firmness of your belly, fingers twitching slightly.

It doesn’t go away.

Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’ll pass in a minute. But… what if it doesn’t?

"Okay..." you murmur to yourself. "Maybe... I should just..."

Your thumb hovers over your screen, another hesitation, before you press the emergency call button, your heartbeat suddenly loud in your ears.

The call barely finishes its second ring before a familiar voice answers.

"Yes?"

Just hearing Zayne’s voice eases some of your anxiety—but not all.

"Um..." You wince as the sensation moves lower, not increasing but persistent, refusing to be ignored.

"Darling?" His voice spikes slightly, alert. "Something wrong?"

"I—" You pause, trying to find the right words. "I don’t know. Something feels off."

There’s a brief silence. "Lower stomach? Upper? Or somewhere else?" Zayne asks, his voice steady.

You hesitate. "Lower stomach, I think? It’s not exactly pain—just an odd, lingering pressure." Taking another deep breath between your words.

"Sharp or dull?"

"...Dull."

"Alright. You’re already regulating your breath—that’s a good start." His voice is softer now, gentle but firm. A grounding force against the growing unease inside you. It's a good thing at this point, because you feel yourself panicking a little bit. The feeling still hasn’t faded. How long has it been? A minute? More?

You're still around six months at this point, and all you can think of is labor contractions. That is not a good outcome.

There’s a pause, then his tone softens slightly. "Try lying down—slowly. Tell me if it changes."

"Okay... Yeah..." You move to recline, but pause. "Wait—aren’t you supposed to walk around during contractions?"

"Don’t." His response is instant, clipped but controlled. You can almost hear him pinching the bridge of his nose. "You’re alone. I can’t, in good conscience, let you walk around while you’re in pain."

"Well, it’s not really pain—"

Your word gets cut off when you hear him saying your name. Not scolding, not impatient. Just firm. Steady.

Very him.

You shut your mouth, swallowing down the argument. It can wait.

Carefully, you ease yourself back against the couch cushions. You brace yourself on the backrest, moving in slow increments, exhaling with each adjustment.

The tightness begins to fade.

You hear a muffled voice in the background—someone asking Zayne a question. He must cover the receiver because you can’t make out the words, but when he returns, his voice is as steady as ever. "Darling? How is it?"

"Better," you admit, rubbing slow circles over your stomach.

"That’s good. When did the first one start?"

You hesitate.

"How do you know this wasn’t the first?"

There’s a pause. A knowing silence.

You huff. "Fair enough. I think about five minutes ago? Maybe longer. I wasn’t keeping track, I thought it was just cramps."

"Hmm. And now?"

You push yourself up slightly, careful not to move too fast. "It’s gone now."

You let out another slow breath, feeling a little ridiculous now. You just interrupted your husband at work for nothing. Maybe you should apologize—but then again, isn’t this what he always tells you to do? Call him if anything feels off?

There’s a slight exhale on the other end of the line—subtle relief. "That’s good. I think it’s safe to say it was false labor contractions."

Ah. Now you remember. Yes. You’d read about it before, but in the moment, all rational thinking had gone out the window.

"You don’t feel anything else?" Zayne asks.

"No," you murmur. Then, a little sheepishly, "Sorry. I completely forgot about false labor. What was it called again? We read about it, but I just... panicked."

"Braxton Hicks," he supplies easily. "And don’t apologize for being cautious. Precaution is never a bad thing."

There’s another muffled sound on his end, someone calling for him.

"Ah, right," you say, feeling a little guilty, but also a little bitter. But you shake the feeling away. "You should go, I’m fine now—"

"No," he cuts in, voice still soft. "I still have time."

You feel a warmth in your chest at that.

But then, his tone shifts, just a fraction firmer. "Now, did you overexert yourself? Or forget to drink water?"

"I drink my water!" you insist.

You don’t answer the other question.

Because, well... You may or may not have spent the morning rearranging the living room. Specifically the sofa.

The silence from the other end stretches for a beat too long. Then—

A sigh.

"If you need something, just tell me. I’ll do it for you."

The words are simple. No irritation, no exasperation. Just pure sincerity.

And somehow, that’s what makes the loneliness bubble up, unbidden.

You press your lips together, fingers tightening slightly around your phone. You’re fine. He’s busy. He’s saving lives, for God’s sake, and you’re sitting here whining about missing him?

The thought doesn’t help. The weight in your chest doesn’t go away.

You swallow hard, trying to push it down, barely more than a breath at first. "I was just—" You catch yourself too late, lips pressing together, but the words have already slipped out. "Lonely," you finish, softer this time, as if saying it quieter might make it less real.

And then, once it’s out, it won’t stop. “And then this happened, and you weren’t here, I mean you’re barely around and I just—I don’t know!”

The second the words leave your mouth, you slap a hand over it, eyes going wide.

Shit.

He doesn’t answer immediately. There’s a pause, just long enough that you wonder if the call dropped—then you hear his quiet inhale. When he speaks, his voice is softer, more careful. "I’m sorry."

Another pause. Then, just as gentle, "Today, I should be home on time."

You freeze, pulse jumping. That wasn’t supposed to come out. “I mean—” You force out a light laugh, waving a hand as if brushing it off. “Not like— I wasn’t upset or anything, just, you know… hormones?” You grasp at the excuse, but it’s a weak defense.

“Darling.”

His voice alone is enough to make your throat tighten. You shake your head quickly, as if he can see that too. “No, really, I mean yes, I miss you, of course. How could I not? But I don’t blame you, alright?”

A soft inhale on the other end of the line. “I miss you too. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you soon.”

His voice is steady, warm—so sincere it makes your chest ache.

"You don’t have to make up for anything," you murmur, though your throat feels tight.

"I do," he says simply. "I know I haven't been around as much as I'd want to. But that doesn't mean I don’t think about you all the time."

You sniffle. Oh, no. Here it comes. You are not about to cry over this.

Zayne hears it instantly. “Darling?”

“No, no, don’t—” You swipe a hand under your eyes. “You’re being too sweet, stop it.”

A quiet chuckle comes through the phone, warm and affectionate. “I’m just telling the truth.”

“Well, don’t.” You groan, tipping your head back against the couch.

His voice drops into something even softer, something almost intimate. “You know I’d rather be home with you, right? I’d rather be next to you right now, holding you, rubbing your back, listening to you rant about whatever new thing annoyed you today.”

You sniffle again, unable to stop yourself.

He sighs, indulgent. “Wipe your tears for me,” he murmurs. “I can’t do it right now.”

Oh, no. No, no, no. That is way too much. You cover your face with both hands, your phone barely on your grip, voice muffled when you groan, “Zayne.”

“Yes?”

“That’s too cute. Stop that.”

He hums, amused, like he’s not single-handedly making your heart explode. “I meant what I said,” he continues, like he’s speaking just for you. “I know it’s hard. And I know you’ve been lonely. But you’re not alone, alright? You never will be.”

A shaky breath escapes you. You can’t even answer that because you might actually start full-on sobbing.

Before you can pull yourself together, a voice calls his name in the background, sharp with urgency.

There’s a brief pause before he exhales. “Sorry, I have to go. Emergency.”

You sit up a little straighter, still trying to blink the tears away. “Don’t say sorry for doing your job,” you say quickly, before he even gets the chance.

A beat of silence. Then, quietly, “I love you.”

Your chest tightens again, but this time in the best way possible. “I love you too.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

And then the line clicks off, leaving you sitting there with a slightly damp face, fully in love, and no idea how you’re supposed to wait for him to come home after that.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Zayne gets home, the house is quiet, the lights are dim. His footsteps are careful as he steps inside, taking in the familiar scent of home.

But something is off.

His gaze flickers toward the living room, and his brows knit slightly. The sofa—it's not where it usually is. Only slightly shifted, but enough for him to notice.

A quiet sigh leaves him. So that’s why. No wonder.

And there you are—curled up on the living room sofa, blanket draped haphazardly over you, lips slightly parted as you breathe in steady, even rhythms.

Shaking his head, he moves closer, reaching down to carefully lift you, but the moment his hands brush against you, your lashes flutter. You stir, and then, before he can even say anything, you immediately reach for him, fingers gripping weakly at his sleeve as your sleepy voice murmurs, “Welcome home.”

His expression softens instantly. He leans down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the top of your head. “I’m home.”

You hum, eyes barely open, still clinging to him. He pulls back slightly, studying your drowsy face, and his lips press into a thin line. “I told you not to sleep here anymore.”

You yawn, stretching lazily. “It just turned out that way.”

Zayne lifts an eyebrow, unimpressed. His fingers brush lightly against the armrest, confirming his suspicion. “…And moving the sofa helped with that?”

Your expression flickers—too quickly. Suspiciously. “…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zayne exhales sharply, almost a laugh, but doesn’t push. Instead, he watches you, unimpressed but fond.

Then, before you can argue further, your gaze flickers past him—and you gasp.

“Grill meat!”

Zayne barely has a second to react before you’re fully awake, scrambling up as you spot the takeout containers on the coffee table. You turn back to him with wide, excited eyes. “You got it! It's open today?!”

His lips twitch. “You’ve been talking about it for two days. I wasn’t about to come home empty-handed.”

You beam. Absolutely beam. It’s almost too much for him. Almost.

Zayne steps forward, already reaching for the bag to open it for you, but you immediately scold him, smacking his arm lightly. “No—go change first! You just got back, you should wash up or—whatever you need to do! I can wait.”

Zayne exhales, the sound a soft mixture of amusement and surrender. “You’re so impatient, but now you’re suddenly willing to wait?”

You huff. “Well, yeah! I’m feeling generous, so go now.”

He snorts, watches you for a second longer, as if considering pushing back, but then shakes his head. “Alright,” he says simply. “I’ll be quick.”

When he returns—now dressed in sweats and a plain tee—you’re already sitting cross-legged on the couch, takeout bag in front of you like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

“Finally,” you say, eagerly patting the space beside you. “Come on, doc, you deserve a break.”

With a quiet breath, Zayne settles beside you, reaching to open the containers. Warm, savory steam fills the air, and you practically melt.

“Oh my God,” you whisper reverently. “This is exactly what I needed.”

Zayne watches as you take your first bite, the way your eyes flutter shut in pure bliss.

His lips press together like he’s holding something back.

But then, instead of teasing you immediately, his gaze softens just a fraction. “I really do love seeing you happy,” he murmurs, voice softer than before.

You pause mid-chew. The warmth in his tone catches you off guard, settling somewhere deeper than just the comfort of food or his presence. Your lips part slightly, something unspoken lingering on your tongue—

“Didn’t you say you could wait?”

You blink, barely processing the shift before narrowing your eyes. “...That was before I smelled it.”

“Hm.” He picks up his chopsticks, eyes flicking between you and the food. “And here I thought your love for me was unwavering.”

“It is,” you say immediately. Then, with a dramatic sigh, “But love won’t fill my stomach, Zayne.”

He exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

“You married this, by the way,” you remind him, grinning. “Willfully.”

Zayne barely fights off the curve on his lips, eyes glinting with amusement. “...Unfortunately.”

You gasp. “Take it back!”

“Hmm. No.”

“Zayne!” You reach out to smack his arm.

He only chuckles, catching your wrist easily before letting his fingers slip between yours. The motion is effortless, natural. You don’t even think about it—you just hold on.

His hand is cool against your skin, but his presence is warm, grounding. The laughter, the quiet intimacy of shared meals, the way his fingers stay laced with yours—it settles something in your chest.

For tonight, it’s enough.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes

Ugh I love fluff 🫶🏻😩 Sue me 😂 Not connected and more like a snippet (smut) but still on pregnancy theme!

You're reading the Pregnancy series! You're at Part 3

Part 0

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 (Smut at the end)

I was editing to add the rest of the series part but it was too long ahahaha so here's just the whole list: Parenthood AU Masterlist ✨

[kai-uh-arcadian]

Something you’ll never know

synopsis: you and aeri were inseparable while you were growing up. Is that connection still there?

word count: 15k (jeeez) (it could've been 3 parts but I love you all so much so here you are)

cw: angst, cussing, drinking, f reader, childhood best friends to...(?) idk if there's any i missed please lmk!

notes! So sorry if its a confusing read with the timelines and such. the italic paragraphs are flashbacks/memories! for clarification Aeri and reader are ages 12, 22, and then 30 in this. It's inspired by the movie Past Lives (one of my fav movies, I recommend it!) barely proofread again, I also tried to add extra space in between different scenes, I hope it flows okay!

This is my first angsty fic ever but I had a lot of fun writing it! I really hope you enjoy it and if you'd like to, lmk your thoughts!!

as always dms and asks are always open!

xoxo love youuu (: <3

20 years ago in Southern California,  SM Elementary School

Ever since you can remember, Aeri Uchinaga has been a constant presence in your life. You first met in preschool, where she quickly took a liking to you for reasons you couldn't quite understand. As a ‘slow-to-warm-up’ child, you were perfectly fine with doing quiet activities on your own while your classmates ran around, chatting amongst themselves. But Aeri must have seen you as a challenge or a game, maybe? She was determined to crack the ice and see what lay beneath your quiet exterior. She would always join you at the drawing table and start rambling about a variety of things that crossed her mind or even go as far as sharing her stuffed animals with you when she saw you playing ‘family’ alone with your own.

And before you knew it, she had you hooked. Aeri was more outspoken than you at the time, and she often took the reins in your friendship, but you were (more than) happy to follow her lead. You quickly learned that she had a habit of charging in head first, and it became your unspoken mission to keep her from getting into too much trouble.

You promised yourself that you'd always be there supporting her from behind.

You dribbled the soccer ball skillfully toward the goal, weaving through defenders with ease. Just as you were about to score, a loud yelp from the basketball court made you stop dead in your tracks. Your hesitation cost you as a player from the opposing team slid in, tackling you. Pain shot through your leg as your planted foot twisted in a way that it should NOT twist.

You got up from the ground and ignored the pain as you waved to a classmate on the sideline to take your place on the field. You limped as quickly as you could toward the court from the field, fighting back tears. The adrenaline kept you moving.

Eventually you made it to the basketball court where Aeri was.

“Are you okay?” you asked as you reached a hurt Aeri, who was hissing slightly at the sight of her skinned knee. Almost every ounce of pain washed away when you saw her.

She looked up, surprised, as your shadow blocked the sun. To her, you probably looked like an angel.

“Y/n,” she sniffled, “Where did you come from?”

“I was just playing soccer,” you replied, kneeling in front of her and offering your back. “Here, hop on. Let’s get you to the nurse.”

“Mm~ okay,” Aeri shyly mumbled as she climbed onto your back, resting her chin in the crook of your neck as you hobbled toward the infirmary.

“How did you know I was hurt?” she inquired softly.

“I dunno, my Aeri instincts must've kicked in... But you do have a pretty distinctive scream that I could hear all the way from the soccer field” You chuckled

“Ah~! What!? That’s so embarrassing!” She buried her face into your neck. “Why did you come over? You said you were playing soccer?”

“Well yeah I was, but remember when we were five and had our first sleepover?” you asked, chuckling. “Ya know, the one where you couldn’t stop crying because you missed your parents, especially your mom.”

“Hey! Why bring that up now?” she groaned, playfully hitting your back with her fists. “It wasn’t my choice! My parents were busy with work, okay!”

“Nono~ we made a pinky promise, remember? I told you, ‘I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.’ And I vaguely remember claiming I’d be your prince or somethin' like that.. I’m just keeping my word.” You smiled at the memory.

“That was like seven years ago…I can't believe you even remember that” she sighed contentedly. “Well, thank you, my prince.” she let out a teasing chuckle

“Of course, Lady Aeri,” you replied in a playful, formal tone, adjusting her higher on your back with a little hop.

There was a small break of silence before Aeri took notice of the cadence of your steps.

“...Wait, are you limping?” Her tone suddenly turned serious, like a mother about to scold her child.

“Uh…” You hesitated, “No…?” you chuckled nervously hoping she'd drop the topic (she didn't).

She peeked over your shoulder and saw your left ankle, red and beginning to swell.

“Ah~! What happened!? Let me down, I can walk! You idiot!” she exclaimed, trying to wriggle off your back.

“No way! We’re almost there anyways, and all this wiggling isn’t helping the pain either!” you bickered with the girl on your back before finally reaching the school entrance.

After school, your mom tended to your hurt ankle. It wasn’t anything serious, just a mild sprain. You worked silently on your assignment before she spoke up.

“Y/n, honey~” your mom cooed before sitting down next to you at the kitchen table while you were doing homework. “What do you think about Aeri? Do you like her?”

“Hmm,” You hummed while  placing your pencil down as memories of her flooded your mind.

One specific memory came to the forefront of your mind,

You and Aeri were laying in the lush grass together with your heads touching and holding hands.

“Aeri, look!” You pointed to the sky “I see a shark.. Or maybe a really  big tuna?” a playful giggle escaped your lips 

“Mhm~!” she agreed, “Look over there! Doesn’t that look like Haku from Spirited Away?” Aeri’s eyes widened in excitement as her favorite character appeared in the sky, her finger excitedly pointing 

“Yeah! I think it does!” You stole a glance of her. 

Her eyes were glued to the blue sky adorned with fluffy white clouds that looked like they felt like cotton candy. The sun reflected against her dark brown hair and made it look like a beautiful dark ocean rippling in the wind

It was a cool summer day. A gentle breeze wafted her scent of strawberry shampoo and a light rose scent from her deodorant. The sky stretched over both of you like a blue canvas with puffy cotton balls. The warmth of the sunshine wrapped the two of you into an embrace only you both could feel.

 You stared at her with so much… happiness? While she pointed out various shapes, her face lit up more and more each time she spotted one

“What is this feeling?” You thought “It feels like i’m going down a steep slope of a rollercoaster when I’m around her”

“Hm~ Y/n? Is there something on my face? Did you hear me?” She briefly stopped her tangent when she felt a soft gaze.

“Oh~! No sorry,” You giggled

“I- just” you began barely above a whisper

“Wow, look!” Aeri unknowingly cut you off “Those ones look like two hearts about to mash together” she exclaimed giddily

Your gaze went back to the clouds and you paused  for a few seconds causing Aeri to look at you

“Were you gonna say something?” She mumbled and you met her eyes

“I’m just.. Really happy right now!” you said, unable to verbalize the feelings you were having.

“I like her” you replied to your mom

“Ohh~”She nodded in response before genuinely inquiring “Why?” 

“Well… She said I’m like her prince” she responded to her mother so nonchalantly and innocently

“Her prince?”

“Mhm, I think i’ll marry her one day” You smiled before picking up your pencil again-- completely unphased.

“Mm~ I see, I see. Well Y/n, does she want to marry you, too?” 

“I don't know if she likes me too, but if she does I know she'll say when we’re ready!” She smiled brightly at her mom 

“Ah okay~ When did you grow up my sweet daughter?” Your mom lightly pinched your cheek which caused you to giggle. “Well, I was on the phone with her mom earlier... Do you want to go on a date with her?"

Of course you excitedly nodded your head in agreement

You and Aeri stepped into the park, nature wrapped around you two like a comforting hug. The trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves left a playful pattern of light and shadows on the ground below. While birds chirped happily overhead, their songs blending with the soft rustle of leaves, creating a soothing melody that seemed to dance through the air. Both of your mom’s made their way to a nearby spot to watch you both 

“Aeri! Let’s go” You said as you grabbed her free hand 

“Oh~ Ma, can you hold these?” Aeri swiftly passed the small bouquet of flowers you had bought her to her mother before being whisked away by your eager pull

“Oh!”  was all Mrs.Uchinaga could get out before the two of you ran off exploring the park. She couldn’t contain her laughter and began to take a digital camera out of her purse.

“They look good together, so happy huh?” Your mom glanced at Mrs.Uchinaga as she was snapping a picture of the two of you running hand in hand in the luscious green field. 

“Yeah~ Aeri talks about Y/n a lot. She says she wants to marry her one day” Her mom let out an astonished laugh “When did our girls grow up?

“That’s exactly what Y/n said! “ She laughed, “We can’t be too surprised right?

"Ah~ I guess not." Aeri's mom began, "Remember that time we kept Y/n overnight once and Aeri was crying uncontrollably and then suddenly stopped? My god, it was so scary! I thought something had happened to her but when I checked the baby monitor, Y/n snuck out of her own crib and into Aeri’s! And then they fell asleep like that!” She laughed with a tinge of nostalgic sadness 

“Ahh~ They were about two and a half years old huh? Oh~! Remember that time I told you when I put them in charge of her brother while I was making them lunch and when I walked back into the living room and found all of them asleep on the couch with Kosei in between them! It was so cute~!” Your mom smiled brightly “I have the photo somewhere still!” 

Both you parents sighed contentedly, reminiscing on you two. After a bit of comfortable silence, you mom spoke up

“My Y/n cares about Aeri a lot. I can see she does too, it puts my heart at ease to know my daughter has someone who cares so deeply about her.” Your mom’s eyes began to get a bit watery

Mrs. Uchinaga placed her hand reassuringly over hers, a warm smile gracing her lips. "She's a smart girl—you shouldn’t worry too much. I'm forever grateful she's been in my Aeri's life. Look at them," she pointed affectionately at the two of you, nestled under the low-hanging branches of the weeping willow tree.

"Aeri! This is where we can take our shoes off," you exclaimed, gently parting the "curtain" of leaves as if entering a secret world.

Your imagination ran wild, the simple weeping willow tree transformed into a spacious apartment in a bustling city.

"And here is where our dining room is," Aeri chimed in, moving to the large stones and pretending they were seats. "Here, sit. Let me get you a coffee, honey," she playfully immersed herself in the game of house.

Aeri returned with a hollowed out rock with a stick in it, “Here’s your coffee!”

You pretend slurped through the stick straw, “This is soo~ delicious” and you fake slurped more causing both of you to giggle

“Hey, Aeri” you placed the rock coffee cup down and Aeri joined you at the “dining table”

“Where do you wanna live when you grow up?” you met her gaze

“Mmm, definitely a city. I want my fashion business to be very popular!” She flashed a cheerful thumbs up “What about you?”

“Mm..” You looked down, shyly contemplating

“Are you getting shy?!” She gently nudged your shoulder teasing you

“Nono~!” You waved your hands in defense while a smile appeared on your face “Hm.. I guess wherever you go?”

While you and Aeri played house, imagining your future together, your parents sat nearby on the park bench in comfortable silence, smiling as they watched the two of you. A gentle breeze drifted through, rustling the leaves and carrying the scent of blooming flowers through the air, adding to the peaceful moment.

“We’re moving soon,” Aeri’s mom finally said, breaking the quiet. Which explained why she asked to take them on a 'date'

Your mom didn’t respond right away, her gaze still on you and Aeri. After a few more beats, she spoke, doing her best to mask her emotions. “Oh… where?”

“South Korea,” Aeri’s mom replied softly.

Your mom paused, her voice steady but tinged with sadness. “Why leave everything behind?”

“There are better opportunities ahead than the ones we’ll leave behind,” Aeri’s mom answered with a quiet sigh, as if trying to convince herself as much as anyone else.

Later, on the car ride home, you and Aeri had both fallen asleep in the backseat, your hands still clasped together, oblivious to the change that was coming. Your mom glanced back at the two of you and with a bittersweet smile, she snapped a quick photo.

Neither of you knew how much your lives would change in the next few weeks.

You sat at your desk, your gaze unfocused as you stared blankly ahead, lost in a haze of thoughts that swirled around you like fog. Aeri’s voice cut through the noise, her laughter ringing out as she animatedly chatted with her friends nearby. Her vibrant energy filled the room, lighting up the space, yet somehow, it made the gap between you two feel even wider. You were in the same room, but it felt like you were worlds apart—both of you in your own little world.

"You're leaving?" one of her friends exclaimed, disbelief in her voice.

"Yeah!" Aeri replied, her excitement unmistakable.

"Never coming back?" another girl pressed, curiosity laced her voice.

"I don’t think so!" Aeri laughed, her tone light, almost carefree.

"What?! Why not!?" the girl pushed further, as if she couldn’t fathom the idea.

"Well.. I could never become a fashion designer here!" Aeri giggled, like her answer was obvious… like she wasn’t about to leave behind everything you had known together.

After school, you found yourself walking past Aeri as she waved her friends goodbye. Her cheerful farewell echoed behind you as you caught a glimpse of her. Her smile was as bright as ever, but for the first time, it felt distant—like it no longer belonged to you.

"Oh, bye!" she called out to her friends, her voice cheerful before turning her attention to you. 

"Wait up!" she hurried to catch up with your steps.

You slowed down slightly, but something in you hesitated.

"Oh, sorry," you murmured.

She quickly caught up and the two of you began the familiar walk home, the silence between you felt heavier than ever. Aeri seemed comfortable, at ease with the quiet, but for you, the weight in your chest grew with every step. Even though she was right beside you, it felt like she was already slipping away—like an invisible wall was growing between you, expanding with each moment.

It was disorienting, jarring even, to think that after today, she wouldn’t be walking next to you every day like she had since kindergarten. Each footstep echoed what was coming, and despite the comfort of routine, the reality of her departure pressed down on you, suffocating the words you wanted to say but couldn’t find.

The world around continued its hustle and bustle, completely indifferent to the storm brewing in your heart. Cars rushed by, bikes whizzed past, and people hurried along the sidewalk, insensitive to the internal chaos you were grappling with.

Every emotion flooded through you, leaving you drowning in a mix of sadness and anger. Each step felt trudging through quicksand as if your feet had been stuck in concrete. Your body was subconsciously pulling you away from your house to prolong your inevitable separation– like a dog who doesn’t want their walk to be over yet.

As you reached the fork in the road that diverged toward your respective houses, a heavy cloud hung above your head, thick with everything you wanted to say.

"Bye, n/n," Aeri's voice carried a tinge of melancholy as she began to walk away, her figure receding into the distance.

You paused, unable to tear your gaze away from her retreating form.

Every memory you’ve shared with her played in your head like a movie montage.

“C’mon Aeri, don’t be scared! I’m right here with you!” You aggressively whispered while carrying a bag of snacks and a blanket, trying to convince Aeri onto the roof of your house

“What if we get in trouble? What if we get locked out and we’re stuck here forever!” Aeri said to you from inside through the opened window 

“My parents know I do this, it’s a flat surface so you have to be a real dummy to slip off! And don’t worry, it only locks from the inside and if you’re scared you can just hold onto me!” You reached out your hand to Aeri

She couldn't help but smile, your own reassuring grin reflecting back at her. She warmly accepted your hand, her breath hitched when your hands made contact.

“O-oh thanks, let’s place the blanket down!” Aeri was glad it was dark because she was sure her face was the same shade as a tomato!

"Not too shabby, huh?" You chuckled lightly, settling onto the soft surface and patting the spot beside you, inviting her to join you.

It was a warm summer night. A gentle breeze wafted your scent of shampoo and a cologne-y scent from your deodorant. The sky stretched over both of you like a dark blue canvas with twinkling stars. The warmth of the evening wrapped the two of you into an embrace only you both could feel.

You felt her staring at you while you pointed out various constellations, your face lit up more and more each time you spotted one

“Hm, Aeri? Did you hear me?” You briefly stopped your tangent when you felt a soft gaze on you

“Oh~! No sorry,” Aeri giggled “What did you say?”

You scooted closer so your head was touching hers, “See those stars over there? It’s kinda like a weird looking 7?” You extended your arm while pointing, trying your best to point out three out of the millions of stars in the sky

“Hm.. oh! Yes!”

“That’s me! And your birthday is October 30 making you a Scorpio! and hmm” You began to move your pointer finger to search in the sky

“Ah! There! You see that pattern that kind of looks like a snake with claws?”

“Yeah~ I actually do!” Aeri giggled as her imagination took over

“Well, Aeri if you ever feel sad or something and I’m not with you for some reason ” You chuckled sweetly. “I just want you to know that we’re always together in the sky!” You both turned to meet each other’s gaze at the same time 

“Well I don’t think we’ll ever get separated, I want to be with you forever!” She innocently beamed which caused you both to giggle 

“Me too Aeri!”

After a few hesitant moments, you found your voice, though it felt as if your heart might stop with the effort.

“Aeri,” you called out softly, the word heavy with all the feelings you had kept buried for so long.

“Mm?” She turned to face you, her expression softening when her eyes met yours, and the cheerful energy from earlier was nowhere to be found.

“I.. I like you,” you said, your voice trembling slightly, but you held her gaze, resisting the urge to look away. You felt as though you might crumble, but you forced yourself to keep going. “I’m glad we spent our childhood.. together.”

Her smile faltered, shifting into something sadder, something that you couldn't understand. She didn’t respond immediately, as if the words you’d just said had stolen her breath, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. She was at a loss for words and the silence stretched endlessly between you.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying desperately to maintain your composure. “Bye… Aeri,” you added softly, your voice cracking ever so slightly as you turned away towards your house, trying to put on a brave face.

You couldn’t bear to see the sadness in her eyes any longer. Tears threatened to spill, but you fought them back, willing yourself to hold on just a little longer.

“Bye..” she faintly whispered out

The moment you started walking toward your house, your chest tightened. Tears streamed down your face as the weight of the world as you knew it came crashing down.

What you'll never know and what you couldn’t see, was that Aeri began crying too.

About 10 years later, you sat at your desk in your cozy apartment room at UCLA, the late afternoon sun casting soft rays across the scattered textbooks and notes. With a sigh, you pushed some papers aside to rest your elbow on the desk, propping your chin on your hand.

“How the actual fuck do I even solve this?” you muttered to yourself, staring at the confusing statistics problem on your laptop. After a moment of frustration, you searched for a tutorial on YouTube, hoping for a miracle.

As you scrolled through the list of videos, you could hear your roommate Yunjin bustling around in the kitchen.

“Jennie-poo~!” you called out, leaning back in your chair. “Can you come here?”

A few seconds later, you heard your door creak open. "Huh?" came Yunjin's voice, her (dyed) red hair poking around the doorframe as she stepped inside.

“Do you have any idea how to solve this?” you asked, switching your browser back to the page filled with complex formulas. You pointed at the screen. “I seriously have no clue what they’re even fucking asking”

Yunjin leaned down, squinting at the problem for a moment before laughing. “Yeah, I’m gonna be honest with you—zero clue. You’re so fucked,” she said, still giggling.

Yunjin, aka Jennifer, was from upstate New York, and the two of you had been roommates for four years. It felt like fate sometimes—being assigned to live together your freshman year was totally random, but she was practically you in a different form.

“You’re absolutely no help,” you groaned, laughing a little despite yourself as you buried your face in your hands.

“You’re so welcome,” she said, patting your head playfully. “I’m gonna make some jjajangmyeon, do you want any?”

“Not right now. Maybe save some for me later? I gotta finish this shit” you replied, sitting back up and stretching.

“Yeah, of course. Good luck!” Yunjin said with a wink as she left your room.

You sighed deeply as you turned back to your YouTube tab, clicking on a video tutorial. As fucking expected, an ad began to play—one of those painfully long ones you couldn’t skip.

“Do you want to be a model? Do you think you have what it takes?”

The words faded into the background as your mind started to wander, pulled back by an unexpected memory.

Aeri.

It had been so long since you’d allowed yourself to think about her. Years, even. But something about the mention of fashion, pulled you back into the past. The past where she lived, where her dreams had once shone so brightly.

Aeri had always talked about becoming a fashion designer—about where she'd live and make a name for herself. You could still picture her so clearly, sitting beside you, messily sketching her ideas in her notebooks. Dresses, bags, runway looks… She used to tell you all about it, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

“I could never become a designer here,” she’d said once, laughing. She was always so sure of her path. Always ready to go after her dreams, no matter the cost.

She may have been right

Suddenly, the thought of her became overwhelming. You couldn’t help but wonder what had become of that dream. Did she make it? Was she in South Korea, living the life she’d always wanted? Or had things turned out differently?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as your mind drifted back to the memory of her laughter and the way she’d talked about her plans with ABSOLUTE certainty.

Without thinking, you opened a new tab. You hesitated for a moment, a tightness in your chest returning. 

A memory flashed into your mind to when you were having a sleepover with her

“Y/n…” Aeri’s voice came softly from the left side of your bed, sadness creeping into her usual playful tone.

“Mm? What’s wrong?” you asked, glancing over at her.

“I wish you wanted to be a model,” she pouted. “Then you could try on the clothes I design.”

You laughed softly. “I mean, I still could... Why are you thinking about that now?”

“Well, obviously I want to be a designer! SO of course I want you to be the first person to wear the clothes I make,” she beamed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

The video kept playing and the math tutorial began playing. 

Why the hell am I thinking about that now? It’s been like 10 years?

 Aeri Uchinaga…

You leaned back in your chair and positioned your head towards the ceiling

What are you up to…

With a sigh, you slingshotted forward and opened Facebook and began to search.

After an hour of searching, you finally found a lead—her father’s company page. It was a bit tedious to find her or her family, considering they lived in a completely different country.

“Hi, I’m looking for my childhood best friend, Aeri Uchinaga . Please let me know how I can contact her.”

And with that, you posted the message and, for the first time in hours, tried to return to your homework.

A few weeks later, on the complete opposite side of the world at 5:30 PM in Seoul...

Aeri sat in her dorm, the warm afternoon sunlight streaming through the window as she lounged on her bed, phone pressed to her ear, laptop resting in her lap.

“Ne~ umma, remember Xinyi? She plays basketball in college now!” Aeri said with a smile, scrolling through Facebook while chatting with her mother.

“Wow~! I’m not surprised,” Mrs. Uchinaga replied with a chuckle on the other end. “She was always knocking on our door, asking you to play.”

Aeri laughed lightly. “Yeah, even though I was pretty bad. She tried so hard to teach me, but I was just ass”

“It’s okay, darling. Sports weren’t really your thing,” her mother comforted warmly.

Aeri absentmindedly scrolled through her feed, clicking on old profiles and updates from people she hadn’t thought about in years.

“Who else should we look up?” She asked her mom.

Aeri paused, a small smile creeping onto her lips. “Who’s the one I had a huge crush on?”

“Y/n L/n” they both said at the same time, sharing a laugh.

Aeri’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, and she began typing your name, curiosity piqued as she searched for her old crush. As she clicked through posts, she suddenly froze.

“Umma! This is crazy!” Aeri exclaimed, her voice full of shock. “She posted on dad’s Facebook page a few weeks ago looking for me!”

“Oh wow really? Well~ I’m not too surprised, Aeri. She really liked you!” her mom replied, her voice filled with warmth.

“I’m looking for my childhood best friend, Aeri Uchinaga ...” Aeri read aloud to her mom as her eyes scanned the message.

Aeri’s heart raced as she scrolled through your profile. Even though your hair was longer and your features were more defined, the essence of you—the same joyful glint in your eyes—hadn’t changed at all. It was as if time hadn’t erased any part of the person she remembered so vividly.

“Umma, I’ll call you back,” Aeri said quickly, cutting her mom off as she reassured her with a chuckle, “Yes! I promise I’m eating well!”

She ended the call with a smile, but her pulse quickened as she stared at the screen. Her eyes scanned the message again and again, as if reading your name over and over would somehow make this more real.

“Ahh~” Aeri inhaled deeply, her fingers trembling slightly as she sent you a friend request and began typing a message to you.

“Y/n! It’s Aeri, you remember me?”

It was 1:30 AM in your on-campus apartment in LA when your phone buzzed, receiving the new message.

“Fuck her! She doesn’t deserve you! You’re like… sooo out of her league,” Yuna mumbled to your other friend, Ryujin, as she poured another shot for her.

“Right?” Ryujin sighed before pausing to take the shot. “I just don’t know why I miss her… so much,” she grimaced as the alcohol hit the back of her throat.

“Ryu, you should have some water,” you slurred, hiccuping as you passed her your water bottle.

“Y/nn~ how about you drink some water,” your roommate Yunjin chimed in, giggling as she slumped over on the couch.

The four of you sat in the living room, post-gaming the bar, waiting for your DoorDash to arrive. Ryujin rested her head in your lap, and without thinking, you rubbed her back to comfort her.

You took a long gulp of water with a satisfied “Ah~” before reaching for your beer.

“Wellll~ Beer is basically water. You should have some too Jennie-poo! It isn’t a post-game if we don’t drink till we die,” you exclaimed, taking a sip from the can.

“UGH~” Ryujin groaned, deadpanning, “I want to die~”

“Girl, she literally cheated on you and then wanted to be exclusive while she was fucking someone else—like, what?” Yuna added, deadpan.

That comment made all of you burst out laughing(she was right), even as Ryujin lightly punched Yuna in the arm.

“Hey~! Be niceeee~ Show some compassion!” Yunjin scolded, trying and failing to stifle her laughter.

You were still chuckling when your phone buzzed again in your pocket. Grabbing it, you blinked a couple of times, trying to focus your eyes on the notification.

Giselle?

Your vision was still a little too blurry to make sense of it.

"Hey!" Yunjin faked being cold

“You have a secret girlfriend or somethin'?” Yunjin teased, sounding just like a jealous girlfriend.

“Huh?” you responded, still distracted.

“Who’s messaging you at 1:30 in the morning? You have a sneaky link you’re not telling us about?” Yunjin continued, laughing.

Meanwhile, Ryujin was still moping in your lap. “Hey! Sensitive subject!” she groaned dramatically.

“Fuck if I know, I honestly have zero clue,” you mumbled, your words slurring as you stared at your phone before turning it off.

The next morning, you woke up in your bed with a slight headache. You groaned, rolling over to reach for your water bottle and chugged it like it was the last water on Earth.

The cold water worked its magic, refreshing you enough to (barely) function. You grabbed your phone from the charger and started scrolling through your notifications, still half-asleep. But then, one notification made you freeze—last night’s Facebook message.

You clicked on it, your grogginess instantly fading as your eyes widened in surprise. It was from none other than the girl who made you experience your first instance of love—Aeri Uchinaga.

“Giselle Uchinaga?” you muttered to yourself, reading her profile in disbelief.

That’s why you couldn’t find her!  It made complete sense now. Her features were more mature, but that familiar smile—the one that had always warmed your heart—was still there, lighting up her face in every picture. You couldn’t stop smiling as you scrolled through her photos.

Just then, Yunjin’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to reality.

“Y/n! Are you awake? I made avocado toast and eggs!” she announced from the other side of your door.

“Ahh~ okay, yeah, lemme pee and I’ll be out!” you called back, your voice still raspy from sleep.

You quickly splashed some water on your face and pulled on a pair of sweats and a hoodie before stepping out of your room.

“Good morning!” you chirped, only to be met with a synchronized groan from Yuna and Ryujin.

“How the fuck do you have this much energy? What puts you in such a good mood?” Yuna asked, holding an ice pack on her forehead.

“Hm?” you replied, walking over to your coffee cup on the table that Yunjin had filled for you. “Thank Jennie-poo! And nothing, I just don’t have a massive hangover like you two idiots—should’ve drank beer instead of taking shots”

As you sipped your coffee, your mind of course, drifted back to last night. That damn text from Aeri.

The two of you exchanged a few quick messages, exchanging numbers, and catching up briefly before settling on a time that worked best for both of you to video call. It felt surreal, reading Aeri’s replies after all these years—like time had somehow folded in on itself, bringing the past back into the present.

You found yourself staring at your phone, the FaceTime app open and ready, but your heart pounding in your chest. What if things had changed too much? What if she wasn’t the Aeri you remembered? What if you weren’t the person she expected? Your thoughts spiraled as you adjusted your hair for what felt like the tenth time.

It’s just a call, you reminded yourself. It’s just Aeri. You’ve known her before.

But even though you’d told yourself that a hundred times, the butterflies in your stomach wouldn’t settle. The phone buzzed in your hand as the screen lit up. Incoming FaceTime: Aeri Uchinaga.

You took a deep breath, your thumb hovering over the screen for a moment longer than it should have. Then, finally, you swiped to answer.

Aeri’s face appeared, pixelated for just a second before the connection stabilized. There she was. Her familiar eyes, her smile—the same, but different? You stared at each other for a beat, neither of you quite sure how to start.

Aeri broke the silence with a nervous laugh. “Wow.. it’s been so long. I almost forgot what you looked like!”

You smiled, feeling the same rush of emotions you hadn’t felt in years. “I know right? I wasn’t sure what to expect either. You look… different. In a good way, of course.” nervousness still present in your voice

“Same to you,” Aeri said, her voice softening as she studied your face. “It’s like, you’ve changed, but... not really, you know?”

You laughed, the tension beginning to ease. “Except now you’re Giselle, huh?”

Aeri grinned, rolling her eyes playfully. “Yeah, that’s a long story. But trust me, it’s still me. Aeri Uchinaga at heart.”

You both chuckled, the ice slowly breaking as the conversation started to feel more familiar. It was strange, seeing her face again like this after so many years—older, more mature, but still with that same smile.

“Soo.. You’re really out there becoming a designer, huh?” you teased, shaking your head with an incredulous smile. “It’s kind of wild thinking about you... you know, living in Korea and actually doing all the things you told me you would like years ago”

Aeri laughed, her tone warm but modest. “Don’t let social media fool you. I’m not as glamorous as it seems. I’m still the same girl who couldn’t shoot a basketball to save her life.”

You grinned, shaking your head. “Oh god yeah! I remember! You were sooo bad. I thought for sure you were going to quit after that first fall.”

“Whatever! I literally was just trying to impress you,” she joked, her laugh lighting up the screen.

With each passing minute, the conversation felt easier. The laughter flowed naturally, memories of your childhood together resurfacing as if no time had passed at all.

“So... how have you been, really?” Aeri asked after a while, her tone more serious now. “I feel like I missed so much. of your life"

You nodded, the weight of the years between you sinking in. “Yeah, it feels strange, I feel the same too. I’ve been good, I guess. But seeing you like this… I dunno.. It feels like yesterday, you were just that little girl on the other side of the road from me.”

Aeri smiled, her expression softening. “Right? I don’t know, life is so weird sometimes.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, a small smile tugging at your lips. “And now, you’re the girl on my screen.”

As the night went on, you both talked about everything—your lives, your dreams, the things you had wanted to say but never got the chance to. It was like reconnecting with a part of yourself you thought you’d lost. By the end of the call, there was an unspoken understanding between you both. This wasn’t just a one-off conversation.

“So, let’s not wait another decade to do this again?” you said with a grin.

Aeri laughed. “Deal. Next time, I’ll tell you the full story behind ‘Giselle.’”

“I’m holding you to that, Aeri” you replied, your heart feeling lighter than it had in years.

And that’s how it was. For a few months, you both shared everything—your days, your worries, even the smallest details. You started waiting for her calls, looking forward to the time you’d spend talking. She was always there, her laughter filling your nights(and early mornings!), making you feel closer to her despite the distance.

It was almost as if you were in a relationship. The way she looked at you through the screen, the way your conversations lingered on hopes and what-ifs. You could almost imagine what it would be like to be with her again, for real.

You routinely called Aeri during your day. 

Hey,” you greeted with a smile as the screen connected.

“Hey,” Aeri chuckled softly on the other end.

“Is it 7:00 in the morning there? I thought you said you never wake up before 10:00,” you teased, noting how early it was for her.

“I don’t,” Aeri replied, a smile tugging at her lips. “But this was the only time that worked for you, right?”

“Well yeah but don’t you have class today?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeahh~” she admitted, “but it’s later~” sleepiness still evident in her voice

You couldn’t help but tease her. “Ya know Aeri, your english is pretty rusty”

“Hey!” Aeri chuckled in return and her eyes opened slightly. “I only speak English with you and my mom!”

You both laughed yet some silence strung between the two of you

“So, you said you were leaving California to be the world’s greatest designer... You still want that?”

Aeri paused for a moment while shifting in her bed, then smiled. “Hmm... I think maybe I’ll have a business like.. My own line of clothes”

“Ahh wow~” You sighed, “ You’re the same Aeri I remember. Wanting to do everything, have everything and also still so sassy.” you teased again

She laughed, feigning shock. “Sassy? Wow, can’t believe you think of me like that”

Aeri’s grin widened before continuing,  “Actually... I got invited to Japan this summer to design for this brand for a whole month. My professor helped me get into the program!”

“Wait, so you’ll be in Japan for a month?” you asked, surprised. “That’s amazing.”

“Yeah,” Aeri nodded, her excitement palpable. “It’s crazy. I can’t believe it’s happening.”

“So, how are your applications going?” she asked, her voice softening.

“Hmm, wellll~ they’re going,” you replied with a small smile. “I’m looking at Boston for grad school.”

Aeri sighed, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. “Ah wow, look at us.. when did we grow up? It feels like we’re almost... truly adults.”

“Hmm, I know,” you agreed, a thoughtful pause hanging between you. “Too soon though.”

You hung up shortly after and went about your day. You studied with Yunjin, and later, the girls came over for dinner, followed by a late-night study session. By the time you showered and finally settled into bed, it was already 1 AM when your phone buzzed—Aeri was calling.

“Hello?” You mumbled out as you turned your lamp on

“Oh sorry, were you sleeping?” she asked, her face slightly blurry on the screen.

“Mm,” you sighed softly, rubbing your eyes. “No, I just got into bed, actually.”

“Long day?”

“Mhm, but that’s alright. What’s up?” you asked, shifting into a more comfortable position and reaching for your glasses.

“I’m just.. in Haebonchang right now,” she said, flipping the camera to show the view. “Look how beautiful the sunset is, Y/n.”

The sunset was breathtaking, shades of pink, orange, and purple blending into each other like a painting across the sky.

“Wow... it’s beautiful, Aeri,” you said in awe.

Aeri’s voice softened before she flipped the camera back to herself. “Yeah... I wish you were here,” she said quietly, her eyes flickering between the camera and the fading light.

There was a pause, her words lingering in the space between you.

“Maybe one day.. We could go there together,” you whispered, your voice tinged with sadness.

“Yeah.. I’d really like that,” Aeri responded, her tone gentle but carrying the weight of something more.

There was a brief second of silence. As if both of you were hesitating to speak up.

“I miss you,” you whispered, barely audible, your voice filled with longing. Time zones didn’t matter, distance didn’t matter. You really just longed for Aeri. 

Those three words heavily hung in the air between you two.

“I miss you too,” Aeri quietly admitted, her voice soft but sincere, resistance evident in her confession. 

The day after that interaction, things started to feel different. The FaceTime calls slowly became more sparse, and her texts were less frequent. You tried not to overthink it, giving her the space you thought she might need. But as the days passed, the silence began to weigh on you. Eventually, you double texted  her, unable to ignore any longer.

“Aeri, is everything okay?”

For the first time in days, her response came instantly.

“Yeah sorry, I’m okay. I just have something on my mind. Can we call later?”

Her words did nothing to ease your nerves.

“Of course,” you typed back, keeping it simple, though your heart raced.

 The uncertainty gnawed at you, the anxiety tightening in your chest as you stared at the screen.

Finally, what felt like days but in reality was just a few hours, Aeri called you.

You hesitantly answered “Hey Aeri, you okay?”

There was a pause, and that’s when you knew it didn’t seem promising.

“Y/n,” she began softly, her face on the screen appearing hesitant, almost conflicted.

“..Aeri?” you prompted gently, your voice unsure now.

She sighed deeply, her gaze dropping for a second before meeting yours again. “Y/n… I need to talk to you about something.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah I know, what’s going on? You okay?”

“When is it possible for you to visit me in Seoul?” she asked bluntly, though her tone remained soft.

You hesitated. “Well, maybe about a year or so? Just with grad schoo–”

She cut you off gently,  “I know.. You don’t have to explain yourself, I just– God,” She paused as if holding herself back from admitting something. “It’ll be over a year and a half until I can visit you”

Your eyes stayed glued to the screen, watching her struggle to compose herself. The pit in your stomach deepened

Aeri swallowed hard, clearly struggling with her next words. “I think we should stop talking for a while”

Your chest tightened.

 “Why?”

“I came here..” She began, “ No– I’ve had this goal since forever. I want to accomplish something here but.. I can’t stop myself from looking up flights to California every day. 

And I think… I think I need to focus on committing my life here”

You blinked, the realization slowly sinking in. She was leaving again.

“So you want.. to stop talking to me?” Your words trailed off, unsure of how to finish that thought or if there’s anything more you could possibly say.

“Just for now,” she said quietly, her eyes softening with what seemed like guilt. “And I really don’t want to lose you. But I know.. I have to give this my all.”

You bit your lip, trying to keep the lump in your throat from forming. “Aeri.. It took me 10 years to find you.” 

She looked down again, exhaling slowly trying to fight a sob from coming out. “I know Y/n, but I’ll be back before you know it.. It’s just a brief break”

Fuck

You nodded slowly, though your heart ached. “Alright then Aeri ”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was barely above a whisper now. “I’m so sorry” She began to cry.

“No need to be sorry,” You said as you choked back your own tears, clearing your throat to cover it.  “We weren’t dating or anything so don’t worry about it. Really.”

There was a long pause, the silence between you filled with all the things neither of you were ready to say.

“Take care of yourself and good luck, okay?” Aeri said, her voice soft but final.

“You too,” you replied, your throat tight, the words barely escaping. “I’ll be right here.”

The call ended, and for the first time in months, the silence felt unbearable.

Aeri never knew that this was the hardest you cried in years.

Whoever said times heals everything, is a straight up liar. Time doesn’t heal, it just lets you get used to how things are now.

It had been about eight years since you had last spoken to her and honestly, you didn’t think much of Aeri anymore. Life had moved on, as it does. Although, there were days when you’d think back on everything but those thoughts were extremely rare now, fleeting, like a distant memory and it didn’t sting the way it used to. You’d convinced yourself that was just how things went. People come and go, and life moves forward whether you’re ready or not.

Once you graduated and started your new job in Boston not long after. You settled into a routine that felt strange at first but eventually became your new normal

Somehow, you managed to entice Yunjin to move to Boston. She had moved into a place not too far from yours with her (now!) fiance. Her sister also lives in Boston too so the transition wasn’t too hard. Yuna and Ryujin had ended up in New York, so weekends/every other weekend often meant catching a train to visit them or planning get-togethers whenever everyone’s schedules aligned.

Your 9-to-5 job wasn’t glamorous, but it was steady—something you could rely on. You fell into the rhythm of it quickly enough. The crowded subway rides during rush hour, the packed streets of Boston, the distant hum of the city became part of your daily routine. You’d slip into your office, get your work done, and slip out at the end of the day. It wasn’t what you imagined back when you were chasing dreams in California, picturing something a little more exciting, maybe a little more daring. But it wasn’t bad either—it was.. just comfortable.

After work, you'd sometimes grab a drink with coworkers or meet up with the woman you’d met shortly after getting into grad school. There was nothing too serious between the two of you, just the occasional dinners or casual hangouts. She was fun to be around—easygoing, good company, someone you could relax with. You’d meet up after work at a bar downtown, sharing a drink and small talk about your days. Or sometimes, you’d catch a movie or grab takeout, sitting side by side on the couch in her small apartment, talking about work or random things that made you laugh.

It wasn’t the life-altering-head-over-heels kind of thing, but it felt normal, almost comforting. There was no pressure to be anything more than it was or used to be, and that was fine with you both. Life had settled into place without much fanfare, a quiet routine that you didn’t mind..

It wasn’t until one quiet evening, after a long day at work, that something finally disrupted your routine. You were sitting on the couch, nursing a beer, and scrolling through your phone without much thought, letting the noise of the day slowly fade away.

That was until a notification lit up your screen. You glanced at it out of habit, not expecting anything important. But the name made you pause.

Aeri Yizhuo.

Who?

Aeri…?

Your heart skipped a beat as recognition clicked into place.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

For a second, your heart skipped a beat. You stared at the message, the familiar feeling creeping back into your chest, one you hadn’t felt in ages. You hadn’t thought of her in so long, and yet, there she was. After all this time.

And then, the truth hit you like a punch to the gut.

Aeri was married now.

You felt the sting of it, sharp and unexpected, cutting deeper than you would’ve liked to admit. It shouldn’t have hurt this much. You hadn’t thought about her in so long as you knew she’d been building a life in Korea. You had moved on! Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

But here she was, after all these years she still had the ability to make you feel something. A feeling couldn’t quite put your finger on.

After all this time, part of you had still hoped for something. For something more than this.

About a month or two after your surprise catch-up with Aeri, you finally decided it was time to visit her. The timing was perfect—it was the end of the fiscal year, and you had some extra days off to use. You figured, why not? It would be a good vacation right? The thought of seeing her after all this time felt surreal, but exciting in a way you couldn’t quite describe. You’d booked your flight, set to leave next weekend so you and your friends decided to meet this weekend.

"So," Yunjin piped up, setting down her shot glass with a grin, "Why are you going to Korea?" You, Yunjin, Yuna, and Ryujin were all seated in Yunjin and Kazuha's shared apartment, a half-empty bottle of vodka in the middle of the table while your beer cans scattered around your side.

"She's going to see that girl, rememberrr?" Ryujin teased, her tone playful.

"Who?" you replied, pretending not to know who she was talking about.

Ryujin rolled her eyes, clearly not buying it. "Don't play dumb, idiot. You know exactly who I'm talking about—your first love, right? I thought she lives there, doesn't she?"

"Oh, I see how it is," Yuna chimed in with a smirk. "You just broke up with your girlfriend so you could go see her, huh? You dog"

"What! I’m going for vacation," you exclaimed, shaking your head. "And plus, you guys are crazy. She's married now."

"WHAT? Seriously?" Yunjin blurted out, her voice incredulous.

"Mhm," you nodded, your tone more casual now though it stung to admit it. "For like five or six years now"

You couldn’t even  bring yourself to feel bad about it. After all, from your previous conversation with Aeri, it was clear how happy she was. She’d met her wife, Ning Yizhou, during her design trip in Japan. Aeri had described Ning as an absolutely beautiful soul, someone kind and supportive. They both work together now, running Aeri’s business, Giselle.

From the way Aeri spoke about Ning, you could hear the genuine love and admiration in her voice. There was no bitterness in your heart—how could there be? You were happy for her, happy that she had found someone who brought light into her life, someone who shared in her dreams.

In fact, you were proud of her. She really did accomplish everything she had set out to do. It was bittersweet, of course, but you were genuinely happy for her. 

That’s all that mattered.

Right?

You stood just outside of Incheon International Airport, the thick scent of rain mingling with the smoke from your cigarette as you waited for your Uber. The weather had suddenly turned gray the second you had landed, casting a quiet gloom over the city, the kind that sinks into your bones(What a great sign, huh?). Raindrops softly patterned on the sidewalk while you took another slow drag, the smoke curling up into the damp air.

The second you crushed the cigarette beneath your shoe and bent over to pick it up, a car pulled up in front of you, headlights cutting through the misty rain. You quickly threw it in the appropriate spot in the trash can and opened the back door, climbing in with a sigh.

“Annyeonghaseyo~,” you greeted the driver in your best (broken) Korean, trying to remember the phrases you had studied years ago for Aeri.

The driver smiled politely in the rearview mirror, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Ah, I also speak English. Are you going to the hotel?”

You felt your cheeks flush slightly, nodding as you let out a small, relieved laugh, “Yes, please!” lowering your head in a polite bow.

The car slipped into the rainy Seoul night, the city lights blurring through the raindrops on the windows. The sound of rain hitting the roof of the car was soothing. Your eyes traced the streets as you drove deeper into the heart of the city. The roads were wet and glistening, the neon signs reflecting off the slick pavement, painting the night in hues of red, blue, and green.

The drive felt longer than it was, the beautiful city of Seoul was a lot to take in. Finally, you pulled up to the front of your hotel, the bright lights of the entrance cutting through the rain. The driver helped you with your bags, and you handed him some Won with a shy bow and a “gamsahamnida,” before heading inside.

Checking in was a blur of polite smiles and hurried conversations with the hotel staff. Before you knew it, you were standing in your empty room, the door clicking shut behind you with a finality that made the space feel even bigger.

The rain had picked up, drumming harder against the window. You crossed the room slowly, setting your bag down by the bed before making your way to the large floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the city. The lights of Seoul stretched out before you, and they were incredibly bright. 

A reflection of your younger self flickered in the glass, dim and blurred by the raindrops. It was as if your inner child was staring right back at you—smiling brightly in those stupid colorful shorts your Mom loved to dress you in with a big toothy grin stretching across your face. 

As quickly as she appeared, she vanished. Then reflected back was an almost unrecognizable adult. It was you. The light in your eyes was still prevalent, but it just wasn’t as bright as it used to be. Years must have dimmed that spark and softened the edges of the person you once were.

You leaned your forehead against the cool glass, watching as your breath fogged up the window. The city below pulsed with life, its bright lights and movement carrying on unaware of your inner turmoil.

In that moment, surrounded by the bright lights of a city that was so beautiful and full of life.

You had never felt more alone.

Some bridges in Korean folklore represent reunion and enduring love, like the Magpie Bridge, where separated lovers meet once a year to reaffirm their bond. Others, however, represent a fleeting reconnection—brief moments that can’t last, like this one.

The next morning, you got ready and made your way to Seonyudo Park Bridge, a location Aeri had sent you earlier. The sky wasn’t rainy (luckily) and the soft hum of the city seemed distant as you stood at the edge of the bridge, anxiously watching pedestrians and tourists bustle around. Snippets of Korean and bits of broken English floated past you as you nervously fidgeted with the strap of your tote bag.

You shifted your weight, glancing around, when a voice called out, one you hadn’t heard in person in years.

“Y/n!”

Your head instinctively turned.

Suddenly, in front of you stood a child. She wore jean shorts, a Hello Kitty shirt, and had medium length black hair. Her smile was bright, lighting up her entire face, and her eyes sparkled with a familiar excitement.

It was a smile you could recognize anywhere.

For a moment, you were transported back in time. There she was—Aeri, as you remembered her as a child, standing on the other side of the bridge. You froze, staring in disbelief as the vision of her younger self ran toward you, wide-eyed and full of life. It felt so real—the way she moved, the way her smile hadn't changed.

But then you blinked, and the vision vanished and adult, present time Aeri was just walking toward you. She looked different—grown up. Her hair had grown longer, her figure more filled in, and her features had sharpened with time. But that damn smile, the way her eyes crinkled in the corners when she smiled, was exactly the same as you remembered it from 20 years ago.

Without thinking, your body moved on its own, a shy yet goofy smile creeping across your face as you walked toward her. Your strides were longer, more eager, and you met her about three-quarters of the way across the bridge. You met her where she was.

Now standing just a foot apart, neither of you spoke at first. You both stood there, taking each other in, as if afraid to break the fragile moment. Aeri was still shorter than you by a couple of inches, and she was dressed in a sleek black leather jacket with gray slacks that made her look effortlessly beautiful.

You looked down at her, your heart racing, and for a few seconds, the world around you seemed to fade away. The silence between you wasn’t awkward—it was heavy, but not uncomfortable. It was the weight of everything left unsaid, everything that had built up over the years.

Finally, Aeri sighed softly, her eyes locked on yours, and a smile tugged at her lips. “Wow~,” she whispered, looking up at you with a mix of awe and warmth.

She surprisingly embraced you in an unexpected  hug. Your hands hovered, ghosting across her sides.

“I missed you” She muffled out on your shoulder

You didn’t respond.

You both pulled back from the hug, standing there, just staring at each other. There was something almost surreal about it—the way you both remembered each other so clearly, yet in this moment, you felt like strangers, familiar but somehow unrecognizable.

“You look amazing,” you croaked out, your voice betraying the flood of emotions. “You’ve changed but... you haven’t? If that makes sense.” A nervous laugh escaped your lips.

Aeri lowered her head, letting out a soft, breathy chuckle. “I could say the same to you... When did you get so tall?”

You shyly smirked “I think you’ve just always been short.”

“Ah~ so you haven’t changed at all. Still so~ annoying,” she teased, her laugh infectious.

The laughter faded, and a comfortable silence settled between you both as you took each other in again, the weight of time pressing gently on the moment.

“So...” Aeri smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “You wanna go? I’ve got a few places planned for us.”

“Yeah, of course. Let’s go,” you replied, and without another word, you followed Aeri much like a dog

The Han River has long been a symbol of flow, change, and life in Korea. Flowing water symbolizes the constant change in ones life.. they’re moving in different directions, but still connected in some way.

The walk wasn’t far, but neither of you spoke at first. Aeri led the way and you followed, both of you too shy to break the silence. Finally, she guided you to a quiet spot near the bank of the Han River, the water glistening under the dim light of the overcast sky.

“How’s here?” Aeri finally spoke, settling down near the water’s edge.

“Mmm,” you murmured, nodding as you sat beside her. The lush grass below you.

You both sat quietly, watching the water, the silence growing heavier with unsaid words.

“Was the last time we talked really eight years ago?” Aeri sighed, breaking the silence again.

“I think so? We’re 30 now... So, yeah, I guess it was,” you said, turning your head slightly toward her. “Feels weird huh?” You gave her a little half smile.

“Wow...” she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of those lost years.

After a brief pause, she added, “You know.. before I got married, I went to New York with my wife.”

“I know.”

“I sent you a message on Facebook, I didn’t know if you had changed your number” she continued, smiling softly but with a hint of sadness in her eyes. “But you didn’t respond”

There was another pause. It felt like she had more to say, so you stayed quiet, waiting.

“I wanted to see you,” she admitted quietly. “I was disappointed.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, your gaze fixed on the water, avoiding her eyes. There wasn’t much else you could say, something was hanging in the air between you.

Aeri shifted, her tone changing slightly. “Well, I also wanted to meet your girlfriend. How are you guys doing?”

“We’re not together right now,” you admitted.

“Oh, I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to— wait, did you break up?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.

“Oh well no, I don't know, we’re just... in a weird spot right now. She wants to get married but...”

“But you don’t?” Aeri asked, cutting through your hesitation.

“Yeah it's just, I don’t know, it’s just... complicated,” you sighed, trying not to reveal too much, keeping your emotions in check.

“What’s complicated?” she pressed, her voice direct, almost matter-of-fact.

You chuckled lightly at her tone. “I’m still paying off my student loans. I just don’t want my wife to carry that burden, you know? Boston is expensive enough as it is...” It wasn’t entirely a lie. But deep down, you knew there was more to your hesitation than just the financial part.

“I just feel like she deserves someone better than me. We’ve been together but.. not really together for so long... She deserves someone who can give her what she wants. Someone... less ordinary and..”

“Ordinary?” Aeri interrupted softly, her voice filled with disbelief. “You’re far from ordinary, Y/n. You know you’re...” she trailed off, as if catching herself before saying too much.

You gave her a small smile, ignoring her hesitation. It was clear neither of you wanted to dig into old feelings, not yet, maybe even never. There was too much that both of you were avoiding.

“So, how’s work?” you asked, gently steering the conversation away from the tension that had built up. The question felt like a safe place to land, something casual and mundane.

Aeri smiled, seeming to relax a little. “Busy, as always. Giselle’s doing well, though. It’s everything I dreamed of... and more stressful than I imagined.”

“That sounds about right,” you chuckled, the heaviness between you starting to ease. “But, I knew you could do it. I’m really proud of you, Aeri.”

Slowly, the awkwardness began to dissipate. You found yourselves laughing about silly memories from when you were younger, filling in the gaps from the eight years you had missed.

Aeri told you about the ups and downs of her business, her wife, her travels, and the unexpected ways life had changed her. You shared stories of grad school, your friends, your job, and the quiet moments of your own life that had shaped you. It was easy to get lost in the rhythm of it, the back and forth, as though no time had passed at all.

Before you knew it, the sun had started to dip, casting soft shades of pink and orange across the sky. .

“Remember that one time when you fe–”

Your stomach grumbled loudly, cutting through Aeri’s story

“Oh my god, are you hungry?” Aeri’s eyes widened with concern. 

Oh, no I’m fine, really!” You tried to assuage but of course she did not relent

“No it’s okay, I could eat too. Let’s go get some food, there’s a great to-go spot nearby, and then I’ve got one more place I want to show you.”

She was already on her feet, tugging at your sleeve before you could even think to protest. Not that you would, of course.

You chuckled softly, offering a simple, “Alright,” as a smile crept onto your face. It just felt so natural. Aeri was still the same, always charging ahead, her excitement infectious, leading you from behind as she had so many times before. 

Some things really never change.

Soon, you both arrived at a cozy 24-hour convenience store, the kind that makes it fresh right there. It was small and tucked away, but the smell of freshly made meals greeted you the moment you stepped inside. You ordered an onigiri, feeling like that’s all your stomach could handle after such a day like this. 

You unwrapped it and took a bite, savoring the simple comfort of the food, but before you could settle in, Aeri was pulling you along again, her food in hand, excitement bubbling in her voice.

“Let’s go, the bus comes in three minutes!” she said, glancing at her phone with a grin.

You both made it onto the bus(after scarfing down your rice ball) barely just in time. With no seats available, you were left standing together, holding the same pole.

Strangers pressed in around you, the sounds of conversation and the hum of the city filling the space. But in that moment, it felt like it was only the two of you in the world.

Your fingers brushed against each other, but neither of you moved. The silence stretched between you, not awkward, just heavy with all the years missed. 

You met Aeri’s gaze, and for a brief second, it felt like time slowed. 

The bus glided (not) smoothly through the city streets, and yet the tension between you was almost tangible. Your mind raced with everything you wanted to say, but none of the words seemed right.

"Ae—" you started to say, but before the words could form, Aeri cut you off softly.

“Oh, we’re here,” she said, her voice gently pulling you both back into the present moment.

The bus came to a stop, and you followed her out, stepping into the cool evening air. The two of you walked side by side, the quiet comfort between you settling in again as you made your way toward Namsan Tower, known for its Love Lock Bridge.

“Do you want a picture?” Aeri asked, breaking the silence. “It is your vacation, right? I feel like you haven’t taken many pictures while you’ve been here. Probably my fault,” she laughed lightly, her tone warm.

“Oh yeah, sure!” you said, handing her your phone.

You posed in front of a scenic spot along the path, flashing your signature bright smile.

“Ah~ so cute,” she teased, snapping a few photos before handing your phone back to you.

“Thanks,” you said, quickly glancing at the picture before slipping the phone into your pocket.

The two of you continued walking, your shoulders brushing against each other now and then as the foot traffic toward the bridge picked up. Just before you reached the bridge, Aeri stopped in her tracks, turning to you with a serious look.

“Y/n,” she said, her voice soft but steady.

“Hmm?” you looked at her curiously.

“Why did you... search for me?” she asked quietly, her gaze lingering on you.

“Eight years ago?” you finished for her.

“Mhm,” she nodded.

“Do you really want to know?” you asked, meeting her eyes. She gave a small nod in response, waiting.

You took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I wanted to see you again... I don’t know. You left so suddenly, and I guess I was a little pissed off, honestly.”

“I’m sorry,” Aeri said softly.

You let out a small huff of laughter. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I guess... you’re right. I don’t have anything to be sorry for,” she admitted, smiling faintly.

“You were just in my entire life, and then you left... and then, bam, I found you again,” you said, the words coming out more candidly than you expected.

“Why would you do that?” she asked, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

“I don’t know, honestly... You kept entering my mind when I was in college. I thought about you... a lot,” you admitted.

Aeri nodded, her expression softening. “I see.”

“We were babies back then, huh?” you chuckled, the tension easing. “And even eight years ago... we were still figuring things out.”

“Yeah,” Aeri smiled, a bittersweet glint in her eyes. “I can’t believe we’re not ‘babies’ anymore.”

You both finally arrived at the Love Lock Bridge, the sky now a deep shade of blue, illuminated by the city lights below. The bridge was alive with the soft hum of conversations you couldn’t quite understand  and the distant sounds of traffic, but you felt a quiet stillness between you and Aeri walked around.

“Ning  and I came here for our anniversary,” Aeri said, her voice almost wistful as she glanced around. “It was hard to find at first. We spent months looking for the perfect spot to place our lock.”

She started scanning the rows upon rows of locks, her fingers brushing over the cold metal as she looked for hers. But while she was focused on finding it, you couldn’t stop staring at her—the way her hair fell over her face as she leaned in, the subtle concentration etched on her features, the soft smile that tugged at her lips every now and then as she searched.

You knew you should probably  be at least trying to help her, but at this moment, it felt like she was a world away, even as she stood right next to you. She was talking about their anniversary, their love, and you couldn’t shake away the sinking feeling.

Then suddenly, She spotted it. A small, worn lock with their names etched in faded letters. Ning and Aeri. She pointed at it.

“There,” she said softly.

Your eyes followed your finger, and she smiled when she saw it.

“Wow... I didn’t think we’d be able to find it.”

You forced a smile, but the heaviness in your chest lingered. After a few moments of small talk about the lock, the conversation lulled, and Aeri checked the time. The soft glow of the city lights and the quiet hum of the evening reminded you both that this reunion, like everything, had to come to an end.

“I should probably head home,” Aeri said quietly, her voice carrying a hint of reluctance. She didn’t want to break the moment, but it was inevitable.

You nodded, your own smile fading. “Yeah, I should  get back too.”

Home. She was going home to someone—to a life that didn’t include you. And as much as you tried to push the thought aside, it stung.

She walked with you toward the bus stop, in silence. The conversation from earlier echoed in your mind—how you had found her again, only to realize that the distance between your lives was now undeniable.

When the bus pulled up, Aeri watched as you stepped inside. She gave you one last, soft smile, the kind that carried more meaning than any words could, just before the doors closed between you.

You said your quiet goodbye, instead of walking her home like you used to, you headed back to your own place. Alone.

The next day arrived with a clearer sky, though the weight of the previous night still lingered faintly in your chest. You weren’t sure how to feel, but Aeri’s early morning text had a way of pulling you out of your thoughts: “Let’s go to  Seoul Tower today! I feel like everyone who visits needs to see it.”

Of course you agreed, a few hours later when you had checked out of your hotel, you found yourself walking toward one of Seoul’s most famous places, N Seoul Tower, with Aeri by your side. The streets were alive with locals and tourists, bustling around market stalls and snapping photos.

There was a vibrant energy of the city surrounding you, but your focus was on Aeri, who was as animated as ever, pointing out landmarks and sharing random facts about the places you passed. It was cute.

“This place is sooo a must for anyone visiting Seoul,” Aeri said with a grin as you passed a shop offering hanbok rentals. “Wanna try one on?” She teased “Or are you more in the mood for food?”

You bantered back. “Let’s try food first. I don’t think I’m ready for a hanbok yet,” you playfully rolled your eyes

You stopped at a food stall, grabbing some hotteok, tteokbokki, and grilled meat skewers.

“You have to try this. It’s my favorite,” she said, handing you a cup of hotteok, her face lighting up as you took a bite of the warm treat “See?! I knew you’d like it.”

The day moved quickly as you wandered through the crowded streets, snapping photos, enjoying the ‘touristy’ vibe. It felt easier, lighter, as if you could both escape into the city, even if just for a while.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden hue over the city, Aeri led you to the top of N Seoul Tower. From the observation deck, you could see all of Seoul stretched out before you. The view was breathtaking, the city bathed in the soft light of the sun.

“This city... it’s strange how much it’s become home,” Aeri said quietly, her voice softer now. She leaned against the railing, staring out at the skyline. “I never thought I’d feel that way when I first moved here.”

You stood beside her. “It’s beautiful,” you said, your own voice hushed, as if speaking too loudly might break the delicate moment. You stared at her as she gazed out over the city, your mind was elsewhere.

For a while, you both stood in silence, taking in the view. In that moment, it didn’t matter where you had come from or where you were going. 

For now, this was enough.

After spending the day embodying a tourist and such, the sun had long set, and the once-bustling streets now felt quieter as you followed Aeri back to her apartment.

You were nervous of course,

“She knows I’m coming. right?” you asked, pausing mid-step.

“Of course,” Aeri replied, leading you up the steps to her apartment—the place she now called home.

As you entered, Aeri's wife, Ning, was already by the door. You weren’t sure what you had expected, but seeing her in the flesh felt surreal, like a final confirmation of the life Aeri had built without you. It felt like the gap between your past with Aeri and her present had suddenly become tangible.

After a brief moment of silence, you gave Ning a polite bow, offering your best attempt at broken Korean. “Annyeonghaseyo,” you said, smiling awkwardly.

Ning returned the gesture with a polite bow of her own. “Hello,” she responded in careful English.

For a second, both of you stood there, staring at each other incredulously, trying to find the right words, the weight of the moment hanging between you.

You nodded, your heart racing slightly. “It’s nice to meet you,” you added, this time in your most broken Korean.

Ning smiled kindly, understanding the effort you were making. “It’s nice to meet you too,” she said

Ning chuckled softly, the slight language barrier immediately apparent but not uncomfortable. “Aeri told me… a lot about you.” she responded in English

“Likewise”

Aeri came to your side, sensing the mix of emotions swirling in the air. “Ning, should we grab something to eat? She’s leaving later tonight, so I think we should eat,” Aeri said in Korean, but you didn’t quite catch the words.

Ning nodded and turned to you, switching back to English. “What do you like to eat?”

You pondered for a moment, thinking of something simple but satisfying. “Hmm… samgyupsal?”

Ning’s face immediately lit up at the mention of her favorite food. “Let’s go get samgyupsal!” she said, her excitement evident.

You three ended up at a cozy late-night bar and restaurant, the soft hum of conversation and clinking of glasses filling the space. Dinner had gone smoothly, the samgyupsal hitting the spot, and now you were all nursing drinks, passing time until your Uber was set to arrive.

“So, have you traveled out of the United States before?” Ning asked in Korean, her expression curious. Of course, you didn’t understand, but Aeri leaned in, her voice low as she translated.

“She’s asking if you’ve been out of the country before,” Aeri said with a small smile, eyes flicking between you and her wife.

You shook your head with a soft laugh. “I’ve been to Japan and Spain before, but I think Korea has been my favorite so far.”

Aeri translated the words, and Ning nodded with a smile.

“She says Seoul is a good place to start when visiting Korea, but if you come back, you should visit Jeju Island. It’s beautiful there,” Aeri translated again, while Ning added in her own bit in Korean, her face lighting up.

“I’ve heard great things about Jeju,” you said, returning the smile. “Maybe next time.”

The small talk flowed easily enough, but as the night wore on, Aeri slowly stopped translating, and Ning sat quietly, sipping her drink. It created an odd dynamic—one where it felt like Aeri was caught between two worlds, and Ning, though polite, was drifting further into her own thoughts.

You couldn’t help it. With the drinks loosening your tongue and emotions swirling inside you, the words began to spill out. Leaning in slightly, you lowered your voice, careful to keep your tone steady. “Aeri… thanks for introducing me to your wife.”

Aeri blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. “Mm,” she mumbled, her gaze flickering between you and her drink, unsure of where you were headed.

“I can tell she really loves you,” you added softly, the sincerity in your voice clear. "I didn't realize liking your wife would hurt this much."

Aeri’s eyes softened, her brow furrowing slightly. “Really?” she asked, her voice almost hesitant, as if she needed confirmation.

“Of course,” you replied, your words gentle, but heavy with the weight of what you weren’t saying.

A moment of silence passed, the sounds of the bar fading into the background as the two of you sat there, the space between you filled with things that had been left unsaid for too long.

You took a sip from your glass, gathering the courage to speak again. “… When we stopped talking back then… I really missed you. Did you miss me?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and raw, as if you’d been holding it in for years.

Aeri’s gaze dropped for a moment, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. When she finally looked up at you, her voice was softer, almost vulnerable. “Of course I did, Y/n.”

A dry laugh escaped your lips. “But you met your wife then.” There was an edge to your voice, a bitterness that surprised even you.

Aeri responded instantly, almost defensively. “And you had a girlfriend.”

You scoffed softly. “Right,” you murmured, shaking your head with a small smile. “Sorry.”

Aeri fidgeted with the rim of her glass. “It’s okay.”

After a few quiet moments, you exhaled, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. The words slipped out before you had the chance to stop them. “Seeing you again… it’s made me have some strange thoughts.”

Aeri lifted her eyes to yours, her gaze gentle but curious. “What kind of thoughts?” she asked softly.

You hesitated, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass as you searched for the right words. “I keep thinking… what if I had come here eight years ago? What if you never left California? If we’d just grown up together, stayed in each other’s lives…” 

You paused, the questions swirling in your mind before you continued, your voice growing softer. “Would I have still searched for you? Would we have dated? Broken up? Gotten married and had kids? Just.. you know, stuff like that.”

You glanced at Aeri, her expression unreadable as she absorbed everything you said.

“And what I’ve realized,” you continued, almost to yourself, “is that California… it was always too small for your ambition. You outgrew it before either of us realized. I’m happy you moved here, Aeri, I really am.

And the truth is, I liked you because you’re you. And who you are…” You trailed off for a moment, letting the words sink in before you finished quietly. “Who you are is someone who leaves.”

Aeri’s lips parted slightly, her breath catching. She looked away for a second, as if trying to gather her thoughts, before her voice came out in a whisper. “The Aeri Uchinaga you remember… she doesn’t exist anymore.”

Her words cracked slightly, as if admitting it to herself for the first time.

You felt a soft chuckle escape you, one tinged with understanding. “I know,” you replied. “I know.”

She nodded, but quickly added, “But… that doesn’t mean she never existed.” Her eyes met yours again, softer now. “I left that version of me behind 20 years ago. I left her with you.”

Her words, the honesty in them, tugged at something deep within you. “I know,” you repeated, meeting her gaze, a strange sense of peace settling over you. “I know we were only twelve… but I really did love her.”

Aeri’s lips curved into a small, sad smile, the kind that holds years of unspoken truths. “I know,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

You both let out a quiet laugh, the sound soft but comforting, a brief return to the simplicity of who you used to be.

“I think we must’ve been something together in our past lives,” she said after a while, her voice distant, thoughtful. “Otherwise, why would we be here together right now?”

You thought about her words, turning them over in your mind. “I agree,” you finally said. “But in this life… we obviously just aren’t those people to each other, are we? We’re finally in the same city for the first time in 20 years, and here we are, sitting together... with your wife.”

Your expression softened, as you quietly acknowledged the truth you both knew. “To Ning, you’re someone who stays,” you whispered.

A few moments of silence passed between you and Aeri.

“Who do you think we were to each other in our past lives?” Aeri asked suddenly, her voice soft, almost wistful.

You tilted your head, considering the question. “Hmm… I don’t know,” you said, your tone thoughtful. “Maybe we were forced into a political marriage to stop a war…Or maybe we were just two strangers on a bus who happened to sit next to each other. Or even.. maybe I was just a branch you decided to sit on as a bird on a cold morning.”

You and Aeri chuckled at that, though you could sense a sadness behind it.

You both sat in the quiet for a few more moments, the weight of those imagined lives lingering in the air, until Aeri excused herself to use the restroom, leaving you alone with Ning.

You turned toward her, feeling guilty for the past hour. “I’m sorry we spoke alone,” you said gently, your voice low. “It won’t happen again.”

Ning gave you a small, gentle smile, though there was something sad in her eyes. “Don’t worry,” she replied, her English hesitant but kind. “You two haven’t seen each other in a while. I’m glad I got to meet you Y/n.”

You nodded, her response easing some of the tension in your chest. “I’m glad too,” you said softly, offering her a smile in return

When Aeri returned, you paid the bill and the three of you made your way back to the apartment to grab your luggage. The atmosphere had shifted slightly—quiet, but not uncomfortable, just the natural stillness that follows the end of a long day.

“Hey, I’m gonna walk her to her Uber,” Aeri said to Ning, offering her a small, reassuring smile before turning toward you and the door.

You paused for a moment, glancing at Ning. Bowing slightly, you tried your best to piece together the Korean you’d practiced. “Nice to meet you. Come visit me in California.”

Ning’s eyes softened, and despite the awkwardness of the language barrier, her warmth was undeniable. She returned the bow, her own English just as halting but genuine. “Definitely,” she replied, her smile sincere. You offered her a small smile in return before following Aeri out the door.

As you and Aeri stepped out of the apartment, the cool night air hit you both. You walked side by side down the quiet street, neither of you saying much, both lost in your own thoughts.

The streets were dimly lit, the distant hum of the city lingering in the background. Every now and then, your shoulders brushed, but neither of you acknowledged it. 

As you neared the end of the street, where your Uber was set to pick you up, you both stopped, standing under a flickering streetlight. The quiet air felt thick, the weight of the goodbye neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

Aeri shifted slightly, glancing at you before looking away, her hands fidgeting in her jacket pockets. “Will it be here soon?” she asked, her voice soft, trying to smooth over the tension between you.

You glanced at your phone, the screen glowing back at you. “Two minutes,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Silence.

Some more silence fell between you two as the night deepened, the distant sounds of the city humming softly around you. Neither of you made any effort to fill the quiet, as if both afraid that words would shatter whatever remained between you.

Finally, the low rumble of a car pulling up signaled that your time was almost up. You glanced at the Uber, then down at your bags. With a sigh, you began to pack them into the trunk, your movements slow, almost hesitant, as if trying to delay the inevitable.

Just as you were about to open the car door, something inside you stirred. You couldn’t let this moment end without saying it.

“Aeri,” you called out, your voice breaking the silence as you turned toward her, your hand resting on the handle of the door.

She looked up, her eyes lighting up just a little as she responded, “Mm?”

For a moment, you hesitated, unsure if you should say the words that had been circling in your mind. But the thought of leaving without voicing them felt unbearable. So you smiled, that bittersweet smile tugging at your lips as you spoke.

“What if this is a past life as well, and we are already something else to each other in our next life? Who do you think we are then?” You could feel a deep sadness in your voice as the words left your lips.

Aeri blinked, the question taking her by surprise. Her eyes searched for yours, as if trying to understand the depth of your meaning. She looked almost vulnerable at that moment, her lips parting slightly before she whispered, “I-I don’t know.” Careful with her words

There was something in the way she said it—like she wanted to know, like she wished she had an answer for you but couldn’t bring herself to find one. The distance between you two felt like more than just the physical space separating you—it was something neither of you could cross.

You had realized just then. At that moment. That she hasn’t been looking at you with any sort of love or longing. She’d just been looking at you with nostalgia. A life before the weight of the world crashed down on her.

You lowered your head with a sad laugh in response to her.

“Alright,” you began, “Goodbye, Aeri Uchinaga.. See you then.” you whispered finally parting ways with the girl you'd known 20 years ago.

A feeling of loss over you, almost suffocating. You still managed a genuine smile because you were happy Aeri was happy. 

Bittersweet. 

“See you.. then, Y/n L/n” she whispered. 

With that, you gave her a small nod, your heart heavy. The air between you felt thick with everything unsaid. Aeri looked back at you, her eyes holding a mix of emotions—nostalgia, sadness, maybe a little bit of both.

You opened the door and got into the backseat of the Uber. You glanced out the window one last time, catching a glimpse of Aeri standing there under the streetlight. She looked a little blurry in the dim light, but still the same Aeri you’ve always known.

For a second, your eyes met again. Neither of you waved, neither of you spoke. You both knew this was how it had to end.

You took a deep breath and nodded to the driver, and the car pulled away.

You silently stared out the window as the scenery of Seoul flashed by while tears streamed down your face. 

You’ll never know that she was crying too. Harder than she ever had before.

[brinasheqrt]

She shoots, She scores

pairings - sabrina carpenter x fem!reader

warnings - none, just cute and fluffy!

wc: 718 - a little short sorry but hope you enjoy <3

You’re still catching your breath when the mic gets shoved in your face.

The game clock hit zero barely two minutes ago, and already some overenthusiastic sideline reporter is asking you how it feels to score the game-winning three-pointer with less than ten seconds on the clock. The gym is still buzzing—crowd filing out, camera crews breaking down, your teammates yelling over each other in the background. And somewhere behind the chaos, you know she’s there.

Sabrina.

“Take us through that final play,” the reporter says, his grin wide. “You had the whole stadium on its feet.”

You’re trying to focus, you really are. But just behind the camera, you catch sight of her. Sabrina’s in the front row wearing your hoodie—your team-issued, too-big-for-her hoodie—with your last name across the back. Her hair’s tucked into a cap, sunglasses pushed up on her head, but anyone who knows anything would recognize her smile. Especially now, because she’s beaming like you just told her she gets to name a star after you.

She’s literally glowing. Her whole face is lit up, hand on her hip, phone in her other hand, recording like she’s your own personal documentarian. She mouths something at you—you can’t even read it, you just get caught in the curve of her smile.

You come back to yourself just in time to answer.

“Uh, yeah—honestly?” you say, eyes flicking back to the mic. “I looked at the clock, saw the gap, and thought… I can’t miss this. Not with her watching.”

A ripple of chuckles moves through the crew.

“‘Her’ being your girlfriend, I’m assuming?” the interviewer asks, knowingly.

You grin, fully leaning into it now. “Yeah. She’s here tonight.”

“Pretty sure everyone knows who she is,” the cameraman mutters with a smile.

You sneak another glance at her—she’s blushing now, cheeks pink, but still beaming. She shakes her head, like you’re ridiculous, but she doesn’t look away.

“Does it add pressure,” the interviewer asks, “having someone you love watching from the stands?”

“Not pressure,” you say, already smiling. “More like… motivation. I play better when she’s around.”

There’s a pause as the crew wraps up. “Well, congrats on the win. And the very public girlfriend moment.”

You shrug, cheeks hot. “She deserves it.”

You jog off toward the locker room, but not before Sabrina meets you halfway near the edge of the court. You expect a hug. What you get is a full-on tackle (as much as her 5’0 frame can manage), arms around your waist, burying her face into your chest like she just watched you land on the moon.

“You’re the worst,” she mumbles against you.

“Why?”

“You made me smile the entire time. I couldn’t stop. The guy next to me asked if I was okay.”

You laugh, pressing your lips to the top of her head. “You looked perfect.”

“I looked obsessed.”

“You are obsessed.”

She pulls back to look at you, hand splayed on your chest over your jersey. “You just called me out in an interview.”

“You’re wearing my name across your back. I think we’re even.”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. She always is around you.

“Next time you hit a buzzer beater,” she says, “you better blow me a kiss in front of everyone.”

You smirk. “Deal. But only if you’re front row again.”

“Always.”

And when you walk off together, hand-in-hand, you don’t care who saw the game.

Because all you remember is the girl behind the camera. The one who smiled like she already knew you’d win.

[mooniema]

Can you pleaseee do something with Sae-byeok or Se-mi x barista reader?

Se-mi x reader - hot chocolate with marshmallows

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

pairing ; Se-mi x barista reader

summary ; on a saturday morning, while you were working as a barista, a stunning woman comes in and you accidently mess up her order

warnings ; shitty writing and she might be a little ooc idk, might delete it later if i get too embarrassed

words:

a/n ; this is my first request so i hope yall like it, I might write the one for Sae-byeok too or/and maybe make a second part on this if its wanted

Men dni

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

It was a particularly busy Saturday morning and you were at your new job in a café as a barista. It was your third day at work and you still had to bring a routine in doing your. Even though it was stressful and gave you even less free time, you know that you can't mess up, because you need the money to pay at least a part of your college fees, since your family isn't rich enough to pay everything alone.

So now you are here, serving customers during rush hour with a headache from all the noise and a smile on your face so you seem friendly enough.

When you had a moment of peace you started zooning out, looking out of the window to see the mist surrounding everything. No wonder people were rushing in, just looking outside made you feel cold.

A smooth voice interrupted your thoughts. "Hi, I´d like to order something" You quickly looked to see who was talking to you and you saw her. A short haired woman with piercings on nose and lips, which add to her beauty. She has a faint smirk on her face, studying you with her dark eyes and you can´t help, but feel small under her gaze. You quickly stopped staring at this intimidating woman and put on your customer smile. "Oh hi! Of course, what can I get for you?" "A caramel macchiato, please." You nod and point at a table. "Sit down on the table, while I make your order please"

You watch as the woman nods and goes over to the table, sits down and starts looking at her phone. Then you go to make her order and while doing so, your female coworker bumps into you and you land on the ground. "Omg, I'm so sorry!" The girl kneels down, quickly helping you up. "Can you do me a favor and make some orders for me? The guests there next to the door want one hot chocolate, one latte macchiato and two black coffees. Thank you!" You stare perplex as she rushes away through the backdoor to the 'employees only' area and sigh, feeling frustrated at her leaving you with even more work. You look over to the pretty customer from before, who seems occupied with her phone and you lean on the counter trying to remember what she ordered. Fuck, what did she order again? You think to yourself. You go through all the orders you remembered in your thoughts, before settling on hot chocolate. I'm pretty sure, it was hot chocolate... She probably wants to warm up from the cold. Maybe I should ask her again? You quickly shake your head at that. No way, I'm new at this job and this would just show, how unorganised I still am and she looks like she could bite my head off... I'll just make her hot chocolate and if its the wrong order, I'll make her the right order and pay for it and pray that my boss isn't watching.

You start making the hot chocolate and and after a bit you place some marshmallows in it and go to the counter with the cup in your hand, calling the intimidating girl over. You watch as the girl approaches with a nervous feeling in your stomach from not knowing if you messed her order up, but you try to keep your friendly smile. You hand over the hot chocolate. "Here is your order!" You watch as she takes it into her hands, decorated with silver rings and you notice her confused look. "Is everything okay?" "Uh yea, but that's not what I ordered... I ordered a caramel macchiato" You start to feel your cheeks redden from embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I'll go and make you a new drink" You reach out to get the drink, but instead of giving you it, she takes a sip. "No need to, I'll keep the hot chocolate" You try to insist on making her a new drink, but she just chuckles. "But Miss-, you don't have to drink that..." "No need to call me Miss... My name is Se-mi and instead of apologizing, just make it up to me by texting me later" She quickly scribbles her phone number on a napkin and hands it over to you with the money for the hot chocolate and then walks away, while you stare at her with a flushed and surprised expression. "Bye sweetheart and don't forget to text me!"

I'm so sorry, that this is so bad written and short, but I'm kinda stressed, because of school right now and I kinda rushed this. I might delete this later and maybe rewrite it, if I get inspiration.

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 23

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- Do we ship Billie & Ellie?? Hmmm… (like and rb if you miss Remy lol) Hope you guys are enjoying the book so far! Stay tuned Tues&Thurs for updates and check out my masterlist!

Billie’s POV

The next few days flew by. I almost didn’t even remember what I did all week. Mostly, I moped around, dragging through the day, dodging phone calls or texts messages like the plague.

I overate, burned off the calories in my gym, then ate some more, slept, showered, watched more tv…

The events that transpired on my birthday, or should I say, the night of my birthday, left me feeling so distraught. I felt so embarrassed, so… douchebag-like, for leaving her like that.

That night, I felt like I was going crazy. Maybe I need to go back to therapy again. I mean, am I going to look at girls and see Remy for the rest of my life? That’s ridiculous. She really did look like her, but that’s no coincidence, okay? Maybe I have a type.

Every day is like this. My head explodes into internal rants, just like this one. It leves me in a fog for the rest of the day.

Maybe I should text her. I thought. I need to get her number and apologize. I’ll start with that.

I sit up on my empty couch, tucking my knees into my torso and text my friend Sydney, asking for Ellie’s number.

Some time passes and I finally get in contact with her.

She texts back, and I immediately open the thread.

Ellie: I was wondering if I’d ever hear from you lol

Billie: fuck sorry. i’ve been going thru some shit. it wasn’t fair to do that to you. you were so sweet about it. i’m sorry I ran off like that.

Ellie: I’d love to help if I can 😇

I wondered how she could help. Or if she’d even understand. I guess I owed it to her to find out. Either way, I couldn’t get Remy’s smile out of my mind.

I mean Ellie’s.

Fuck.

I looked back down at my phone, began to type, but couldn’t find the right thing to say. All I know, is I need to get out of the house.

Billie: I’d love to see you again. 🤞🏻

Ellie: Your place this time? 🥴

Tempting, but no. Absolutely not. I’m tired of being in here. And if I embarrassed myself like that again, it’d probably be my 13th reason.

Billie: How about we go get some food?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before I knew it, the day took its course. We didn’t even notice the sun setting from underneath her sheets.

Our breathy voices and bare sweaty bodies needed some air. Ellie rested her face on her hand with her elbow propped up on the pillow, gazing at me as I zoned out.

“Where’d you go?” She took her opposite hand and brushed the stray hairs off my face.

I shook my head, trying to be as present as possible, careful not to fuck this up again. “Nowhere.” My eyes met hers, trailing off to her neck, noticing there were no freckles. They were never there.

I lifted my head off the pillow and kissed her collarbone, tuning out my inner thoughts. I know this can’t be healthy. And probably so selfish of me.

“You’re not gonna take off now, are you?” Her voice uncertain. I felt awful.

I stopped and pulled my face away, looking into her eyes. “No! Unless, you want me to?”

“No, this is nice.” Her lengthy eyelashes pleaded and her arm wrapped around me.

“It is.” I smiled. “I like you, Ellie, I do. I’m sorry if I’m giving mixed signals. My life is complicated right now and-“

Ellie let out a small laugh under her breath and nodded. “I get it. No pressure, really.” She smiled. Her lips were glossy, naturally pink, and especially plump for how much time I spent sucking on them.

I nodded, loving the sound of that. No pressure.

“I mean, how much more pressure can we add, right? We’re literally fully naked right now in your bed.” I joked.

“Whatever you wanna do, at your pace. Even if it’s just this. As long as you take me out to dinner once in a while.” Ellie laughed softly.

“Hey, it’s not gonna be just this, okay? I’m not like that.” I tried to reassure her, not knowing if she really was joking or laughing through the hurt.

Maybe sex was a bad idea. My mind began to spiral again. I shut my eyes, trying to avoid making things weird again.

Okay, maybe I’m the problem.

“Billie, I’m so down to just go with the flow.” She put her fingertips on my chin and tilted my face in her direction. “Are you?”

Her eyes looked sincere and inviting. I just wanted to stop the impulsive thoughts. I quickly wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her back on top, right where I wanted her. She towered over me, close enough for me to let my lips speak for themselves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks went by, and it was finally the end of January. Ellie and I had been seeing each other every day since December 21st. My friends had met her a handful of times and they seemed to like her. She fit right in. There were no problems, except… the elephant in the room.

More so the elephant not in the room. She wanted to know more about Remy.

Who is that girl in all your pictures?

What happened between you two?

Why don’t you talk anymore?

All valid questions. I just didn’t want to open up that can of worms. Because if I did, I’d have to explain more than I care to admit.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved to talk about important things. The deep things. The importantly deep things about her, of course. It was harder to open up about mine. Most things came out as a result of my oversharing. But there were things I didn’t even bring up. And neither did she, actually.

Until a package showed up at my door while she was here.

Well, she was always here. I didn’t mind, though. It meant I didn’t have to sit alone in my thoughts. Plus, she was really cool. Her energy and vibes were great. She made me laugh, I made her laugh. She has a beautiful soul. And she turns me on. She can go all day. It doesn’t matter what time it is, she could keep up.

I digress.

Anyway, the package.

A golden wrapped present at my door tied with a huge gold bow appeared at my door, with a tag that read, “From Remy ❤️”

“I mean, I just don’t understand why you don’t want to open it. I’ll leave if you rather do it alone.” She fidgeted with her fingers. She seemed upset, and maybe I was making it worse.

“I still wouldn’t open it. I don’t want to.” I shook my head, hoping she’d drop it.

“But, why? What happened between you guys?” She insisted?

“Ellie-“

“I just want to know more about you! Is that wrong?”

“No! It’s just not important!” I grabbed her arm, hoping it would soothe her, but it just made her even more upset.

“Not important? You guys were best friends. There’s photos of you two everywhere. Her things are in your room, Billie!” She crossed her arms.

I ran a hand through my hair, wanting to run off and shut down, knowing it would only make it worse.

“Ellie, this is just personal. It’s complicated! Remember we talked and you said no pressure? This is a lot of pressure.”

She scoffed, “Got it. You’re right.” She turned around, grabbing her stuff, heading for the hallway.

“No, don’t go.” I followed, rubbing my face, frustrated and confused. “Ellie I didn’t mean it like that.”

She said nothing, trotting down the staircase.

“Please, just hear me out. I just mean, it’s tough for me to open up. I need some time to just process-“

“Hasn’t enough time gone by? I mean you have no problems fucking me every day. You can do that and still find it hard to trust me?”

Sadly, yes. But I didn’t want to tell her that. I didn’t want to make it worse.

“Of course not!” I stopped her, grabbing her hand and making her face me. “Please, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I do trust you.”

I lied. Sort of. I trusted her with some things. I trusted her in my house, with my phone, I trusted her with other details of my life…

It’s just hard to tell the girl I’m seeing, and trying to fall in love with, that I am- I mean, was in love with my former best friend. That the feelings I’m supposed to feel for her, are so muddled by the image of my former best friend.

“How is this supposed to work if you can’t trust me with everything? You won’t let me in.” She held onto my hand.

Maybe she’s right. Maybe if I let her in, I’ll drop these other feelings, and I’ll feel closer to her. Maybe letting her in will help me get over myself.

I took a deep breath. “Okay.” I nodded. I pulled her hand, leading her into the living room, where the present sat.

She stood next to me as I carefully pulled on the beautiful ribbon bow.

[koolades-world]

I COMPLETELY THOUGHT MY ASK SENT I'M SO SORRY- you can ignore me if you want don't worry :)

But, here is my idea!

How about a little secret hang-out with Solomon after they come back from the past to the present-? I imagine they might not spend as much time together because of the brothers and all, so maybe a little secret date between them :)) like maybe trying to make some kind of dish or sweet (and making sure Solomon doesn't add something weird) or something similar

I'm okay with any scenario honestly,I just think it's funny and cute how they might have to do it secretly haha

That's all, hope you have a great day/afternoon/night!

this is soooo cute omg. Came out longer than i originally imagined but I’m happy with it!

also very happy to hear from you <3

"MC. Where are you headed at this hour?" You froze at the sound of Lucifer's voice, despite behing halfway out of the door of the House of Lamentation.

“Lucifer!” You spun around, hiding your small bag of your things behind your back. “Crazy seeing you here. I didn’t know you hung out here.” You mentally face palmed.

“You’ve spent far too much time with Mammon. He’s rubbing off on you.” He shook his head, a knowing smile on his face. “You should get going before one of my brothers discovers us.” Lucifer quickly closed the distance between the two of you, holding the door open for you.

“You’re not going to stop me?” You narrowed your eyes.

“I can tell you miss him.” His tone was wistful, but his smile was knowing. “Be home tomorrow before breakfast so they don’t tear the realm apart searching for you.” He let out a sound of surprise you’d never heard from him when you threw your arms around him. “Honestly, its quite the feat that you’ve managed to make it this far.” He chuckled, hugging you back.

“I told them I needed a mental health evening. I’m surprised too.” You shrugged, not wanting to dig deeper into that.

“I’ll buy you as much time as I can. Be safe.” Lucifer reluctantly let you go.

“I promise.” He watched as you made your way down the path leading to the edge of the property. You waved to him when you noticed him lingering in the doorway. You heard Mammon whine somewhere from behind him, so after one final glance, he shut the door. Once finally over the property line, you teleported using the spell the man of the hour himself had taught you.

Once you appeared in front of the house you’d intended, you gleefully skipped to the front door. Solomon flung it open before you could knock.

“You don’t know how happy I am to see you!” He dragged you into the house. Simeon, Luke, and Raphael had retired to bed hours before you’d arrived, so as long as the two of you were quiet, it could stay that way. “This is the most I’ve seen of you for weeks!” He snatched you into his arms and spun you around in circles, peppering your face with kisses.

“I haven’t seen you this excited since the end of that two month potion mishap.” You braced yourself against his arms, but made no attempt to stop him, giggling like an idiot the entire time. He eventually set you back down, but still refused to let you go.

“Can you blame me?” Solomon sighed into your hair. You lingered in each other’s arms, enjoying the silence. After having spent so much time together, it felt wrong to spend so long apart.

“I ran into Lucifer on the way out, but he let me go. He said I should be back before breakfast.” You squealed with joy, before clapping a hand over your mouth.

“I’ll have to thank him. Otherwise, my hard work would go to waste.” He took you by your hands to the back garden of Purgatory Hall, where there was a simple, but cute stargazing set up. A blanket was spread across the grass. Various pillows were strewn randomly, and to the side were a couple of your favorite snacks. “After you, dear.” He allowed himself to be dragged down to eye level with you so you could press a kiss to his forehead.

“I missed you.”

[jaythes1mp]

HI!! HOW ARE YOU?! I HOPE YOU ARE WELL!!

Okay so this idea came to me when I was making breakfast but imagine…

Hybrid! Dog! Reader! Whose just a lazy or low energy dog like real lazy because a) it’s in their nature and b) their just lazy. I imagine them as a French bulldog because sometimes they have energy and are like hey lemme just uh play around a bit and than nap or stare at you.

But one day the family or Bruce and D!ck (I feel like it would be those two) decides to take them to a dog park in disguise and at first Reader is scared cause their like omg the last time they did this they were taking me to the vet hell no! But they see that they’re going in a different direction and they’re like huh that’s suspicious that’s weird.

They arrive at the dog park and are encouraged to go run and play which at first their like no take me back home and starts to paw at them but the family won’t budge so they approach the other dogs but than decided to sit in the corner.

A couple minutes later they’re running around yapping happily sniffing other dogs and when it’s time to go they have to be dragged home.

When they get home whoever didn’t go to the dog park are quite shocked that Reader has energy and also zoomies! It’s very cute and chaotic because while they’re running they jump and kind of bark a bit saying I made a friend or friends!

Another scenario I have is Hybrid! Dog! Reader who’s a golden retriever so every time their near water they try to jump into its like a hassle even in the winter or like imagine them jumping into bodies of water in public even if they were told not to do it anymore.

Last scenario, Hybrid! Cat! Reader who accidentally discovers catnip how would the family react? 👀

I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY/ NIGHT/ EVENING!!!! 🩷❤️🧡💚💚🩵💙💜🤎🖤🩶🤍

⭐️ anon

Lovely, as always, to see you in my inbox, ⭐️anon!

These are very cute scenarios!💚 It looks like your drabbles are for a domestic batfam rather than yan bats. Which I’m totally for, dude. It’s cute family life! I wish I thought of drabbles over breakie, haha

However on a slightly serious note, one of my family dogs was killed last Friday, so I’m not going to add onto your puppy fics too soon, I’m really sorry. I just don’t necessarily want to think too much about dogs right now. They’re really epic though!!

In relation to the cat nip, I’ve already made a small drabble on it here, if you wanna check it out🦖🦖

Though if you want more on it as an apology for not adding onto your puppy!reader ask, then I’ll go into more detail about it for you, just send me an ask, pookie💚💚

Masterlist

[oddinary4bts]

Be With You | ch 8

☆summary: who knew that the hot guy you've been paired with for a class project is also a kind soul? Certainly not you, and you feel yourself falling even though you know you shouldn't. Will it be your demise, or will it all work out in the end?

☆pairing: Choi San x female!reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters contain mature content)

☆genre: slow burn strangers to lovers, college!au, smut, angst and fluff

☆warnings: Jungkook, cursing, ghosting, wooyoung <3, angst. like a lot of it oop, vague mentions of what happened with Jungkook three years ago

☆word count: 7.2k

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here

☆a/n: this one is very sad and i'm sorry :') but i hope you guys still like it! I'm posting it from Seoul!!!! I'm so excited to be here:) and thank you to @moonleeai for your amazing work as my beta reader, I love you and am forever thankful for you <3

☆☆☆☆☆

Cold snowflakes Withered down Until you bloom As a spring flower I'll be with you

Be With You, Ateez (english translation)

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, October 26th

You wake up with the morning light, confused as to when you actually fell asleep. All you remember is tossing and turning, tears staining your cheeks, but it seems sleep found you at some point. You don’t feel rested though, heaviness clinging to your very soul, and you turn on your side, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. 

You turn it on, letting it scan your features before it opens on your conversation with San. His text sits there, unchanged by the last few hours, and your heart twists in your chest once more. Your reply, much less ominous, winks at you, its lack of response evident.

[3:07 am] You: are you okay?

You’re not surprised he hasn’t replied. His behaviour last night was strange, hurtful, but not quite as painful as it was to see Jungkook again. 

To think that Wooyoung was with Park Jimin…

You turn off your phone, lying on your back as you stare up at the ceiling. You wonder what happened for San to decide to leave without talking to you. You assume it must have been bad - San isn’t one for abandoning you like that.

You sigh, closing your eyes as your heart aches in your chest, fear wrapping around it like a tight, suffocating embrace. You don’t let the tears come this time, or maybe your exhaustion keeps them at bay. Indeed, your cheeks remain dry, and you’re able to take a few shuddering breaths in until the wave passes.

Fucking Jeon Jungkook…

You’re not even going to fucking say hi?

Jungkook’s words ring in your ears, as they’ve been doing since last night. The sight of him was surprising, disconcerting, and you still can’t believe he’s changed so much. Though he still had those same doe eyes that had stolen your heart when you were too young to see the evil lurking in their depths.

You wish last night had never happened. You wish you hadn’t seen Jungkook again, because you feel the trauma returning, you feel the pain that he’s caused you taking hold of you again. You barely survived the first time - will you survive this time around?

You ask yourself that question all day, as Sydney and Yunho force you to hang out in the living room with them. They’re cautious around you, but you barely even notice, too distracted with glancing at your phone every five minutes hoping that San might have replied to you.

But he doesn’t reply, and night comes again without a single word from him. He’s never not texted for such a long period before, and the fear from the morning strengthens its hold on you until you barely can breathe, tears once more spilling on your cheeks.

You think you know. You reckon you know, yet you don’t want to wrap your head around this new reality. You don’t want to accept it, and so you push the thoughts away, telling yourself that he might just be unwell.

What if something happened with his father? As much as it hurts, you wouldn’t blame him for pulling away. You know damn well that sometimes, you just need some time alone to figure shit out. Maybe San is similar to you in this way.

And so, while the moon laughs at you from its throne up in the sky, blazing bright in the cloudless night, you chase sleep that evades you, trying to ignore the stifling thoughts that haunt your mind.

Monday, October 28th

You sit at the back of the classroom, a bleary ghost barely able to keep your eyes open. You haven’t slept much over the weekend, the lack of response from San keeping you awake despite your tiredness. 

He didn’t reply yesterday either. And so, despite your short night of sleep, you decided to make your way to class, hoping to run into him. 

Hoping that he’ll reappear and everything will be okay now. So you anxiously stare at the door, worrying at your bottom lip. People come in, dispersing in the classroom, yet San stubbornly  remains out of sight. You clench your fists, letting the pain of your nails digging in your palm keep you grounded. 

Letting the physical pain keep you from crying in public like this. Because you feel like crying - you’ve been crying so much over the last two days. Everything about Jungkook rushing back in, San’s disappearance from your life…

You’ve always thought you were strong, yet you’ve never felt so weak. Weak enough that a single gust of wind might break you down, that a single ‘Are you okay?’ might have tears run down your cheeks. You feel feeble, like you might break into a thousand little pieces if somebody even looks your way.

But you hold on strong, staring at the door, hoping that he’ll be the next one to come in. But he doesn’t and, five minutes after the class starts, Wooyoung rushes in, sitting at an empty desk towards the middle of the class.

He glanced at you first. You’re fully aware that he glanced at you, but the apologetic smile he sent your way was nothing reassuring, and the knowledge that something really did happen settles so deep in your bones that you think you might collapse.

You don’t. You stay standing, always - what is there else to do anyway? 

When the class ends, Wooyoung lingers by the door, and though you don’t want to talk to him, don’t want him to tell you what might have happened out of fear of you having fucked it up without even realizing, he stops you with a hand on your arm.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Pain swells up in your chest, and you take a deep breath, looking towards the end of the hallway so that Wooyoung can’t see the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Ah, I guess so,” you reply. 

“Have you…” he trails off. Nayeon passes, and he smiles at her before continuing, “Have you talked to San over the weekend?”

San’s name stabs into your beating heart. It’s such a drastic change from the usual warmth that it brings you, and you want to go home. Want to go home and hide in a blanket until the world moves on and forgets all about you.

“I haven’t,” you reply flatly. “Why?”

“He’s been ignoring everyone all weekend, and he refused to let me in when I went to his place last night.”

Your eyes widen ever so slightly, hope threatening to lighten the dark skies your mind has been clouded with. Because if he’s ignoring everyone, and not just you… then surely it can’t be about you.

“Why would he…” you trail off.

Wooyoung shrugs his shoulders, pursing his lips. “I don’t know. I assumed something must have happened with you?”

“The last time I saw him was at the party,” you say. “He left without even saying goodbye.”

Wooyoung frowns. “He told me he was leaving after the stack-the-cup game. Not too long after you guys disappeared somewhere together.”

You blush as you reminisce about what you disappeared for. Was San embarrassed of it? Why else would he leave?

“He told me he was going to find you, but he didn’t tell me he was going to leave.”

“Did he look upset?” Wooyoung asks.

You pull at some dry skin on your lower lip. “Not at all… he said he’d find me later.”

Wooyoung sighs, grabbing his phone. You watch as he opens it, going to his instagram. He opens his conversation with San. He types a message, sending it without you being able to read it, and then he puts his phone back in his pocket.

“It’s fucking weird.”

Your gaze drops to the ground as you try to think, and all you can come up with is, “Did something happen with his dad?”

Wooyoung cocks a confused eyebrow. “His dad? Not that I know of.”

It’s the only thing that crosses your mind, especially after the conversation you had last Wednesday.

“I’ll try to talk to him again today,” Wooyoung says. “Let me know if he replies to you.”

You nod, taking a deep breath, and then you glance at the end of the hallway again. “Will do. Tell me if he replies to you, too.”

“Of course.” You’re starting to walk away when Wooyoung speaks up, saying your name. You turn to look at him again, and he adds, “I didn’t know you had an ex.”

Of course he didn’t. None of them did - only Sydney and Yunho know.

“Ah,” you let out. “He’s not really someone worth mentioning.”

Wooyoung walks towards you, and then you head together towards the stairs. “He’s got a weird vibe.”

You’re surprised Wooyoung noticed - most people always believe Jungkook to be the sweetest person. But then again, Wooyoung was there when Jungkook talked to you last Friday.

“He is…” You shrug your shoulders. “He is indeed weird.”

“Jimin refused to say anything about you and Jungkook,” Wooyoung adds.

You’re halfway down the stairs by then, and all you want is to step outside and run away from the conversation.

As much as you were ready to have said conversation with San, you don’t want to talk about it with Wooyoung.

“He probably just doesn’t want to stir shit,” you reply, offering Wooyoung a tight-lipped smile. 

Wooyoung shrugs. “Yeah, I got the feeling too.”

An awkward silence descends on the two of you, though you cling to it for dear life, hoping Wooyoung won’t ask any more questions. To your relief, he remains silent, clearly lost in thoughts too, and you make it all the way outside before he talks again.

“Are you coming to class this afternoon?” he asks, noticing you turning away to head out of campus.

“I’m kind of really tired,” you admit, and Wooyoung’s features turn apologetic.

Much like they had when he walked into class, and you only realize now that he was probably sorry because he couldn’t sit with you, and not because he knew something about San.

“No worries, go rest up,” he says, flashing you a smile. “I’ll send you my notes.”

Your eyes water at his words, and you blink it away as subtly as you can. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Wednesday, October 30th 

Two days later, and you still haven’t heard from San. You sent him a message yesterday night, telling him to let you know if he’s alive and that you don’t have to talk, but the message was delivered with no answer ever coming back.

You didn’t really expect one. Though Wooyoung did plant a seed of hope in your heart on Monday, that seed was quickly crushed by San’s neverending silence. 

It doesn’t help that you’re supposed to meet at the library tonight, like you’ve done every week since you started working on your project. You’ve been debating asking him if he’s still coming, yet you’re starting to feel like you’ll only get on his nerves.

If he wanted to talk to you, he would have already. And as much as it hurts to think he doesn’t want to talk to you, it’s also starting to anger you. You’ve never been good with silence - especially with how much Jungkook wielded that against you - and you hate that it’s starting to taint the image of San that you had in mind.

The only thing saving it from full corruption now is the fact that Wooyoung still hasn’t had news either, except from San liking a message that Wooyoung sent saying that he was there for him if he needed.

At least you know San is still alive.

You’re in class, eyes unfocused on your laptop in front of you. You blink a few times to bring it back into focus, and then you write down the sentence the professor just said, even though you have no clue if it’s important. Wooyoung is sitting next to you, pretty much in the same state as you, though you both startle when his phone vibrates on the desk between the two of you.

Especially as you both catch sight of who’s calling, San’s name burning into your retina.

You exchange a glance, eyes widened, and then Wooyoung grabs his phone, mouthing to you that he’ll be back. The professor barely even pays attention to him, and Wooyoung jogs out of the class, leaving you with your heart beating out of your chest as you wait for him to come back. 

And it takes a while, so much so that you’re left wondering if Wooyoung ran away. It’s a silly thought to have considering all of his stuff is still next to you, and so you take a deep breath, trying to slow down your heartbeats.

It doesn’t work. Your heart is beating so loud you can’t even hear the professor anymore, and it only increases, adrenaline spiking in your blood, when Wooyoung comes back with a dreary expression. 

He sits next to you, putting his phone face down between the two of you. You tap his arm, question marks etched in your eyes, but he only mouths that you can talk after class. You clench your jaw, knowing you won’t be able to focus on the class at all now - not that you were really focusing before - and you take a deep breath, looking at the professor.

The class is unending. The class is time stretched into a moment of hell, and you think you’ll be stuck here forever, your heartbeats echoing in your mind louder than bombs. Your hands are slightly shaking, making it hard to take notes, and the next thirty minutes pass like fifteen hundreds of them.

You think you have died four times by the time the professor tells the class to pack their bags, yet it does eventually happen, making your heart rate spike in your chest again.

“So?” you immediately say as you turn towards Wooyoung.

His lips stretch in a tight line, and his eyes flutter close, almost like he’s pained. “I…” He takes a deep breath, opens his eyes and looks at you. “I think you should move on.”

The words stop the world around you, leaving only them and their incessant echo, and your lungs fill with burning lava, making it hard to breathe.

It can’t be. It can’t fucking be - you’ve only had weeks with Choi San, and now life is tearing you apart? It’s unfair.

But you know. You know you never should have fallen in love with him. Why would you deserve it anyway?

“What?” you let out, your voice smaller than the atoms holding a single drop of water together.

A single drop of water, now lost at sea.

“He refused to tell me exactly what happened, but he said…” Wooyoung stops, wincing. “I’m sorry.”

“What did he say?” you ask, furiously blinking away the tears forming in your eyes.

“I just think you should move on,” Wooyoung says softly.

“What did he say?” you repeat, your heart slowly shattering in your chest, like a car crash in slow motion.

Wooyoung sighs, closing his eyes. “He said that he doesn’t want to talk to you, or to talk about you.”

Your hand clenches in a tight fist. “Why? What happened?”

“Fuck if I know.” Wooyoung seems resigned, sad, and he meets your gaze with such pity in his eyes you almost want to punch him.

But it’s not his fault. Of course it’s always been yours.

“I’m really sorry,” Wooyoung whispers. “I’ve never seen him like this.”

One tear wins, and you immediately dry it with a swipe of your hand. “It’s not your fault,” you reassure him.

You look away, putting your stuff in your school bag hurriedly. Wooyoung stops you with a gentle hand on your arm, and you clench your jaw hard before biting into your tongue, hoping that it might keep the rest of your tears at bay.

“Give him some time,” Wooyoung says, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll try to talk to him to figure out why he made that decision.”

You think about Jimin. You think about how he was stuck between you and Jungkook for so long before he inevitably chose Jungkook’s side, leaving you alone in the end. And so you pat Wooyoung’s hand, offering him a sad smile.

“Don’t put yourself between me and him,” you tell Wooyoung.

“I just…” he trails off as he watches you getting up.

“It’s not worth it,” you add. “If San made a decision, the only thing we can do is respect it.”

No matter how much it hurts. No matter how difficult it is to walk away from Wooyoung now, your fist tight on one of the straps of your school bag like it’s a buoy keeping you afloat despite the storm raging in your heart and mind.

You don’t know how you make it home. You’ve gone into survival mode, taking one step at a time without really looking at where you’re going. You just hear Wooyoung’s words on repeat - so many words have been haunting you lately.

You wish you could forget all the words in the dictionary. Wish you could be hit with amnesia so that the pain wouldn’t linger too long. 

But it does. The pain makes a home in your heart, taking all the memories of you and San and tainting them with bittersweet heartbreak.

He decided to ghost you. San, sweet, sweet Choi San decided to ghost you, and you don’t even know why. You don’t know what brought him to that decision - is it because you said you wanted to wait before being boyfriend and girlfriend when he called you his girl at the Halloween party?

If only you had known… you’d go back in time and change your words, tell him you want him like the moon wants the sea, pulling it just a little closer whenever it passes in the sky. Yet the moon never touches the sea and maybe, maybe that’s what your story with Choi San was supposed to be in the end.

The story of reaching for someone, but only meeting a void instead.

You’re outside in front of your apartment building. Have been for a moment, looking at the door. It’s like you’ve been frozen in place - maybe the atmosphere was wiped from the Earth, and you were hit with absolute zero.

Yunho appears, opening the door in front of your dead eyes. He takes you in, gaze widening, and then he’s jogging towards you.

He says your name alarmingly, and then adds, “What’s wrong? What are you doing?”

A sob wracks through you, cracking the ice covering your body, and you hide your face in your hands. Yunho immediately pulls you into a tight hug, and then he’s guiding you towards the door, and all the way to your apartment.

“I’m calling Syd,” he says once he’s had you take off your coat and boots, and told you to sit on the couch. 

“Don’t bother,” you say, taking a deep breath through the heartbreak. “I’m okay.”

“Fuck off.”

It’s all he says before he’s pressing his phone to his ear. Sydney picks up a moment later, and you barely listen as Yunho explains he’s found you crying outside, and that she should come over. He’s hanging up not too long after, and then he goes to the kitchen, bringing you back a glass of water.

“I’m not thirsty,” you mumble.

“Do I look like I care?” he asks. “Drink up.”

You glare at him, but he looks so serious that you do grab the glass, taking a sip from it. “Happy?”

“More,” he insists, folding his arms on his chest.

Annoyed, you take another longer sip. “Happy now?”

Yunho sighs, sitting down on the couch next to you. He doesn’t say anything for a time, and the tears start making their way to your eyes again.

“Hey, hey,” Yunho says. “Drink your water.”

“I don’t want to drink the fucking water.”

“I don’t know how to cheer you up, so you’re going to drink your water while we wait for Syd to get here, m’kay?”

He’s stupid. Your brother is stupid, but at least he’s trying. And you realize that, when you’re drinking water, the sobs don’t quite make their way to the surface. It helps with keeping you grounded, and you’re not really crying anymore by the time Sydney arrives, twenty minutes later.

She looks worried, kicking off her boots by the door before walking towards you and your brother. She meets Yunho’s gaze, who shrugs, and then she’s sitting on the other side of you.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Nothing.” You chuckle bitterly, not surprised when tears wet your eyes again. “San just decided he was done with me and had Wooyoung tell me.”

“Oh.” You’re crying again, and Sydney awkwardly wraps you into a hug, patting your back. “I’m sorry, bubs.”

“I just don’t get it,” you say through the renewed sobs. “We were all good last Friday, and then he left and he ignored me and now this? What the fuck did I do?”

If only you had known that your last kiss would have been that kiss outside of the bathroom by the stairs. You would have kissed him longer, held him longer, kept him close until the Sun would have burned out in the sky. But you didn’t, and all that’s left is a memory that’s not quite focused because you didn’t know it was going to be so important.

“What a fucking ass,” Yunho grumbles next to you.

Sydney moves and, knowing her, you assume she’s glaring at him. “I’m really sorry.” She rubs your back soothingly some more, and then grabs the empty glass of water to give it to Yunho. “Did something happen in the days before the party?”

You rack your mind in search of an explanation and once again, all that comes up is the conversation about his dad.

“He told me some shit about his dad,” you reveal. “But I don’t know why that would lead him to end things like this.”

“What did he say?”

You don’t want to say it. Especially not when he mentioned he’d never told anyone before. Even if you somehow fucked up the relationship, you don’t want to betray his trust like that.

“Just that his dad is an ass,” you choose to say, the half-truth having to be enough for now.

Sydney and Yunho don’t reply, as if expecting for more to come, but you fall silent, focusing on trying to breathe normally. It works enough for you to sit straighter, and Sydney’s hand returns to her lap.

“He’s wild for doing this considering we have friends in common,” Yunho says after a time. He curses underneath his breath, shaking his head. “Like for real, what does he think will happen when Hongjoong organizes something again?”

“Don’t stir shit,” you tell your brother sternly. “Please don’t make it worse.”

“You haven’t done shit, though,” Yunho says. “Unless you’re not telling us something.”

“Yunho,” Sydney warns.

“Are you saying I’m lying?”

Yunho’s gaze widens in fear. “Wait no, fuck no. I know you haven’t done anything.”

“Did you… tell him about Jungkook?” Sydney asks.

As always, the name stings, yet you think San’s name stings a lot more now. “I didn’t even have time to tell him.”

“Jungkook was there at the party…” she trails off, and it only then dawns on you that San and Jungkook might have talked that night, even if Wooyoung didn’t mention it.

“Do you think Jungkook told him something?”

Silence settles in your mind, clarity hitting you. Your gaze widens, and the pain momentarily disappears. “Oh shit.”

“You should try to talk to him.”

The thing is… how? San is visibly ignoring your texts, and he’s not coming to class anymore. You ask yourself that question for the rest of the day, especially once you’ve assured Yunho and Sydney that you'll be okay just so that they let you retreat to the quiet of your room.

You end up trying to work on the project, only for you to stare at the screen as all the times you studied with San keeps popping up in your mind. Treacherous little thoughts, yet they are tinged with a flicker of hope now at the thought that you might be able to fix things if you talk to him.

But what would you say? How would you say things? Most importantly, how are you going to convince San of your story if Jungkook already said his side?

You’re going insane. Insane with questions and sorrow, anxiety and hope and what ifs. Because what if you had talked to San before? What if, tonight, you were going to sleep in his arms instead of alone in the vast, empty expanse of your bed?

It’s late at night when you finally gather the courage to text San. It takes you forever to figure out what to say, and you spend so much time trying to convince yourself to press send. Hell, you think an eternity has passed before your hovering finger finally presses down, and another eternity for the message to deliver.

But at least it delivers. And so you reread, hoping the message is conveyed properly.

[2:08 am] You: hey San! wooyoung told me to move on but i want to give us a try. you matter to me, and i really think we should talk just to see if we can fix things. so please, please reply to me, i can meet you at your place tomorrow evening or over the weekend. no pressure as to when, but please let me just talk to you… it’s been hard without you

So it’s with hope in your heart that you eventually fall asleep that night, your dreams clinging to Choi San as if that might bring him back to you.

Thursday, October 31st

The streets are filled with kids in their costumes, their laughter echoing as they run from houses to houses, carrying bags of treats around like their own little treasures. You’re walking amongst them, face hidden in your scarf - the weather is back to being cold - yet you don’t have much of a destination.

Unlike the kids, your evening isn’t born out of the excitement of youth. Indeed, the heartbreaks of early adulthood are plaguing you, and you don’t know what to make of it.

San hasn’t replied to your text. You weren’t really expecting him to - the hope had been but a decoy of the true pain sitting in your chest. It did linger for part of the day today, but when you finished a class he once again didn’t attend, Wooyoung waving at you from where he sat at the front, you knew it was over.

You don’t think there’s anything you could do or say to salvage the relationship with San. Maybe at first, telling him the truth about Jungkook - your truth - would have made things possible, but San’s constant choice to ignore you, to ghost you like you never mattered, has been making you realize that maybe the whole thing was just painted in the pink tint of budding love. But now you see clearer - now you see San’s choice for what it is.

Avoidance of commitment, and a side of emotional immaturity. At least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself since after the class, if only so that you don’t drown in the heartbreak.

It’s not quite working. Maybe because you can’t bring yourself to see San as the villain, especially not with how sweet he’s always been to you before last Friday. Or maybe you just didn’t truly know him. Maybe he’s the type to run the second a hint of true commitment appears on the horizon. You wouldn’t be surprised - besides Nayeon, he hasn’t really had a relationship. And you don’t know if she even counts. When he spoke of her, it seemed like their relationship was more of a close friendship over anything else, but you might have been wrong.

You might have misinterpreted his feelings for her. In truth, you might have misinterpreted everything when it comes to him, considering the ending. 

You should have known. He does have the reputation to be the kind of guy that sleeps around, yet you went into the whole thing blinded by your need to have someone that stands by your side. A need you didn’t even realize you had until it was too late and you’d lost it.

Because you feel astray now. You feel lost, empty, with no true sense of north and south. You feel like you’re just wandering, like the only goal you’d had in mind has been stripped away from you.

Yet your feet have a goal of their own - your walk brings you close to San’s apartment complex, and you find yourself looking up at the windows, wondering if you can tell which is his.

Wondering if somewhere up there, he’s looking back at you. And so you stand there, your heart trying to reach for him yet only finding an empty void. You take a deep breath, your gaze dropping to the ground.

You miss him. You fucking miss him, fucking wish you’d known that it was the end. You wish you could have at least committed something to memory so that you could have something to remember him by.

But will you even remember him? Twenty years down the line, will you visit memory lane and find him standing there, or are those mere weeks going to be wiped from your memory? It’s a bittersweet thought to realize that something that matters so much might just disappear.

San might disappear. Part of you thinks he’s already started to disappear.

How else could he become such a ghost in your life, if not for him disappearing?

Your eyes fill with tears, and you blink them away frustratedly. And then you take another deep breath, and you look up one last time.

San is on the other side of the street, and your heart stops in your chest. He’s looking at you, too. For half a heartbeat, you think he might even call your name. You think you might even run across the street, run to him and let him whisk you away again.

He looks tired. Exhausted, haunted, much like you. Or maybe you’re just imagining it. Maybe you just wish the burden is shared between the two of you. Perhaps it won’t crush you if it is.

But then San turns around, walking into his building as if you’re just strangers, strangers that share memories that will soon disappear. It hurts so bad your knees feel weak, and you think about running across the street. You think about running to him, only to tell him how much of an asshole he is. How much of a coward he is, too.

Because how can he turn his back on you like that? How can he pretend that, eight days ago, he didn’t make love to you? That even more recently, he didn’t tell you he wanted you to be his girlfriend?

You’ll never understand men. They throw away without trying to fix anything, thinking that connections are replaceable. You can’t blame them - in this day and age, it’s so easy to find someone. But you thought that what you and San had was special. You thought it was different, written in the universe the same way the constellations are written in the night sky. 

It’s a startling thing to realize there is no night sky for you and Choi San in this universe. So you turn back around, too. You turn your back on you and him, choosing yourself over someone that didn’t even think you mattered enough to talk to you. You turn your back on the way he held you, the way he kissed you and made love to you. You turn your back on the feelings he used to ignite in your chest, welcoming the pain and anger instead.

Though you don’t know who the anger is really directed to. Is it directed to him, for choosing to not talk to you, or to yourself, for not being honest with him from the beginning? You can’t tell and... and perhaps that’s okay. Perhaps it’s okay that the anger is directed to the both of you. It keeps you afloat, helps you drift back home despite the sorrow threatening to take a hold of you.

But when you hear Sydney laughing from behind Yunho’s closed door, loneliness hits you head on like a car hitting a wall of bricks. It hits so hard you almost collapse by the door, but you don’t want to worry them. Don’t want them to realize that, maybe you never told San because you didn’t think you deserved him anyway.

Maybe you thought you were always going to lose him anyway, so why offer such a fragile piece of your soul to him? A piece that would have been corrupted by whatever Jungkook told him at the party, if Jungkook even talked to him.

You think about Jungkook. You think about the night he told you it was better to take a break, and the lonely weeks that followed. You think about how you’d use to stalk all of his friends’ socials, Jimin’s included, hoping that you might catch sight of him. You think about the August night when he came back, right after the loneliness got too much for you.

History repeats itself, doesn’t it? 

And so you hate yourself. You hate yourself for all the mistakes you’ve committed in your life, for the way you lost Choi San without ever really having him to begin with. And maybe that’s why you find yourself calling your mother. 

You doubt anyone other than her would be able to stir you away from your spiralling thoughts.

“Hello!” your mother cheerfully says when she picks up after the third ring. 

You remain silent, not finding in you to reply. All you manage to do is kick off your shoes, and your mother says your name as you’re walking towards your room.

“Hey.” Your voice is flat. Empty, hurt, and you wish you could sound happier. You wish you were, but there’s only pain where joy used to be.

“Is everything okay?” your mother asks, her concern so evident you find yourself missing her like crazy.

“Not really,” you reply truthfully, tears pricking at your eyes. 

You lean against the door of your room, softly letting yourself fall to the floor.

“Oh, honey, what’s wrong?”

Everything. It feels like everything is wrong, yet you can’t really tell that to your mother, can you?

“Remember the guy I told you about?” You take a shaky breath in. “Things didn’t work out with him.”

To say the words aloud… it makes everything much more real. It feels like your heart has turned to ice in your chest, cold seeping in your soul until tears start rolling down your cheeks.

“What happened?” she gently asks.

You don’t know what to tell her. You can’t bring yourself to say something that would make her hate San. It’s not like with Jungkook - your parents never liked Jungkook. But she’d said that San sounded like an amazing person, and that she was excited to meet him one day. You’d told her that she should be patient, that you weren’t even sure if you’d date him… 

But it was your first time even showing any interest in a guy after Jungkook, outside of your occasional hookups. Obviously your mother had to be excited about it - it was a sign that you were healing.

You inhale sharply, drying some tears on your cheeks. “It just didn’t work out,” you choose to say. “I guess I wasn’t ready after all.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It hurts, mom,” you let out, and then a sob breaks through your previous countenance. “I really thought I was going to date this guy.”

“It’s okay,” she reassures you. “Please remember that there will always be someone else.”

But you don’t want there to be someone else.

“You met dad at nineteen,” you say. “I’m already twenty-two and I’m just so fucking miserable.”

You’re full on crying now, and your words don’t even make sense.

“Honey, you’re still so young,” your mother gently says. “There are so many people that you will meet that you haven’t met yet.”

“But that’s what scares me.” You sniffle. “What if I just end up forgetting him?”

“Is that so bad?”

It is. It is so bad in every way it could possibly be. Because you don’t want Choi San to become a memory, but the story has ended. It ended with a blank chapter, yes, but it ended nevertheless.

“It’s just sad, no? Like… how can someone matter a lot, and then they just leave?”

Your mother sighs - not out of annoyance, but out of pain for you - and you hate that you’re the one upsetting her right now. “You really liked this guy, didn’t you?”

You did. So much more than you even realized you did.

“Yes.” You lean your head back against the door, your eyes fluttering shut. “Yes, I did. I do.”

“I’m sorry.” You hear your father’s voice on the other side of the line, and your mother whispers something to him that you can’t quite hear. “Why don’t you come here this weekend?” she suggests. “We could go on a shopping spree and make some apple crumble.”

You chuckle through your sobbing. “That’d be amazing.”

To get out of the city for a while… it might be much needed indeed.

“Ask your brother too! We might even be able to bring dad to the Christmas tree farm and decorate for Christmas early.”

“Don’t rope me into your plans!” your father teases in the background.

Your mother’s answering giggle makes your lungs burn, and you clench your jaw so hard it tastes like blood. Because they’re in love - you don’t know how you went wrong with Jungkook, and now San, but your parents have always shown you the perfect picture of love. Yet it’s something you’ve never attained, something you think might forever be out of reach for you.

“We need you to carry the tree,” your mother says.

“Yun will do it.”

“He’ll be too busy with Syd.”

You can’t listen to the conversation anymore. Not when it makes you realize how everyone around you is in love, even though you don’t have a lot of people around at all. You only have Sydney, your brother and your parents - it’s almost embarrassing.

“Hey, mom,” you say. “I think I’ll go.”

“We can talk some more!” she immediately says, most likely sensing your discomfort.

“No, it’s okay.” You swallow around the lump in your throat. “I’ll check with Yunho if he can this weekend.”

“Honey…” your mother trails off. “I’m hugging you through the phone.” 

Your lips stretch in a sad smile. “Thanks, mom.”

“Can’t wait to do face masks with you!”

She’s trying. She’s trying so hard, yet you don’t want to talk to her anymore. You want to be alone, you want to cry your heart out until all the pain is out instead of in. 

“Can’t wait either,” you reply with a shaky voice.

“Oh, honey, I can’t hang up when you’re crying.”

You sigh. “It’s okay, mom. I’m just going to lie down.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod. “Yeah. I haven’t been sleeping well, so maybe a nap will help.”

There’s a moment of silence in which you expect her to try and keep you around, yet she eventually says, “Okay. But call me again if you need to talk, alright?”

“Yes, mom.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hang up, putting your phone down on the floor next to you. Your room is dark, but you don’t feel like turning the lights on. You don’t want to - there’s some comfort in the darkness, like you don’t need to pretend anymore. And so you bend your legs, pull them to your chest and put your chin on your knees as the tears freely fall.

But you don’t sob anymore. It’s like you’re too tired, and you might actually be. There’s just so many rollercoasters your heart can take in such a short period of time. And so you cry. You cry for what could have been with San, for the loneliness that settles in your chest like it’s been its home all along. You cry for everything you had started to build with him - for Mr. Snake, for the box cakes, for the Lego set and for all the nights you fell asleep in his arms.

You cry because there hasn’t been enough. There hasn’t been enough, and there won’t be more, and you think life is cruel for that. Or perhaps he’s the cruel one - would a conversation have been able to fix things, or would he have been too far gone anyway?

To think that it happened overnight, from one day to the next… You never could have imagined that losing him would be so drastic. Like taking a step off a cliff’s edge, and falling to your demise.

It’s unfair, and you want to hate him. Still think part of you hates him, though most of this hate is directed at you. It always has - why would it be different now?

You pick up your phone, swiping it open and heading to the conversation with him. You reread your last text message and then your fingers are moving of their own accord, flying on the keyboard.

[8:21 pm] You: i just don’t understand. i don’t understand what happened, and it feels so unfair. why can’t you even talk to me? did i do something wrong? did i say the wrong thing? i really don’t fucking understand. i really thought we had something… i hope you don’t do that to all the girls you see bc fuck san are you even aware of how much it hurts? i fucking miss you and you just fucking ghosted me out of nowhere and now i’m just supposed to pretend idc? cause shit you’re so good at it. did you even care about me at all? you tell me all this shit about your dad and then you leave like it’s nothing. i’ll never understand you. and i don’t even want to fucking understand you.

When the message delivers, you put your phone back down. It doesn’t feel better now that the words are out, now that the anger spiked and left you. It only feels worse because, if you weren’t done with him before, now you surely are.

You and Choi San are done, the blank chapter has been filled with a text message.

You cry yourself to sleep that night, only to be haunted by nightmares of a better time.

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☆☆☆☆☆

i apologize infinitely for this chapter please don't scream at me (feel free to scream at me). let me know what you think!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2025. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[multiwreckedmess]

[1:06AM]

Here we go, an update to cheater!yunho series. I should name this something.

Pairing: yunho x reader WC: 3.5k Summary: Late poor decisions turn into mistakes. Mistakes that Yunho is all too happy to capitalize on.

As per usual this is 18+ PWP content. Please DNI if you are not 18+ for my PERSONAL boundaries!!! Nothing against you, i'm sure you're very mature for your age but to me you are babby.

Also this is FICTION. This is not meant to represent Yunho or Ateez or any people in real life. Please do NOT use this as a fucking moral guide or sex ed oh my god please.

Also so sorry no editing i cannot be arsed.

TW/CW: Dubious consent framed sort of like coercison (reader doesn't say no but she doesn't really say yes), cumming inside, cumming on(reader receiving), unprotected p in v, cheating.

His shoulder has a small hair sticking out from it. Was it always there? Were you just noticing it now? The urge to grasp it and pull it out almost overtakes you as you stare at it. Its the only thing you can stare at except from your own plain eggshell white ceiling. The juncture where his shoulder meets his neck, your bedside, or the ceiling.

"Gunna -hngh- cum," he manages to strangle out. Right. You're fucking him. Or he's fucking you.

You're lucky that kegels were all over your tiktok for you page. Squeezing yourself internally you groan. If he actually knew what you sounded like you'd be in trouble, the acting job was subpar. "Me-me too. Oh my god. Babe- make sure to -ugh- pull out okay?"

He nods into your shoulder as he grunts. His hips start to stutter and almost as if it was rehearsed both of you pull away from eachother, his hand grasping and pumping as you arch your back away from the mattress. Just like the girls in porn do it, although you hope you're more convincing. The choked groan sounds grotesque as white hot cum splatters your stomach. It's hard to hide your disdain even cloaked in the glow of the garage lights filtering through the curtains.

Your boyfriend doesn't admire his handy work for long. Maybe seconds, maybe less, before he toddles off to the bathroom to wash himself off. Not even so much as offering a glass of water to you, or a tissue to wipe off what he'd left. Yunho would never.

Right, because Yunho would've just cum inside of you. Not that you'd have bothered to tell him to pull out anyway.

Your upper lip curls, nose scrunching as you wipe away the cooled remnants with your boyfriends boxers that he'd left crumpled on the floor. It feels like congealed snot caught in a handkerchief. You grimace to stop yourself from gagging.

These weren't things you thought about when it was Yunho that you were fucking.

Curled up on opposite ends of the couch you hardly look like lovers. The tips of your toes barely graze the fabric of his sweats. Your boyfriend is enraptured by whatever is on the tv as you scroll mindlessly on your phone, trying to silence any thoughts at all. You can only play the role of loving girlfriend for so long. You know that.

Your contact turns from green to blue on Yunho's phone. He smiles to himself. He knew you'd be back.

"Was it that bad?" He types out quickly and hits send without a second thought. Smirking to himself. A bubble with three dots appears briefly. He's stuck staring at your contact, waiting for it to turn green again, for you to block him again. No response, but you remain blue.

"I know you're thinking about me," he hits send as fast as the first time. "Should the big bad boss come steal the princess from the plumber?" He adds a winky face for good measure. Something to rile you up.

The dots stay up for longer this time. Nothing comes of it. You remain silent, a mystery to him. All he's left with is the fact that you've unblocked his number, for now at least. He leaves it there to slide over to Instagram, you hadn't bothered to block him there, in part he assumed to show off just how well you were doing without him. He taps your profile and hits "message", swiping up to disappearing mode without thinking.

You're really trying to focus on whatever your boyfriend has fallen asleep to watching. The mental itch to touch your phone is almost painful. If you pick up your phone you might do something you'll regret. Something you'd regret more than all the things you've already done. The buzz of the phone against the couch cushion momentarily rouses your boyfriend. Not enough for him to open his eyes but enough for him to shift deeper into the cushions. He at least was satisfied.

Meanwhile your body is throbbing into insanity. Eyes flicking from him to the tv to the phone. It vibrates again and he doesn't wake. Would Yunho bother to message a third time? What could he even say in a text? He isn't stupid. It could be someone else, another friend, a facebook notification, even a news alert. The buzz didn't have to be him.

With a shaky exhale you unlock your phone. It's an Instagram notification, from him. You practically vault up from the couch, stomach clenched fully, running to the bathroom.

"Yunho has turned on disappearing messages" sits at the top of the chat. An ominous bubble sits waiting for you to click it. A video. You lower your phones volume and curl in close. There's no reason to open it, there's no reason that he should be sending you any sort of message at this time of night, after all that has happened. It could be blackmail, it could be a video of you and him. So you click it.

The happy background noise of a dog cafe throws you off. A happy face of a cute puppy trots into view, waiting for pets. A hand, Yunho's hand, reaches out from behind the camera. Long fingers carding through the soft fur of the puppy, tongue lolling out in bliss. "Good girl," Yunho coos. "Such a pretty girl. You like that don't you?" He continues to pet the dog. Veins cross the back of his hand. Slender wrist flexing as he scratches behind the puppy's ears. Fuck him. His fingers curl and straighten. You forget there is a dog there, transfixed by the motion, by his gentle laugh. "That's my good girl."

The video ends as Yunho chuckles, the dog rolling to its back.

"Whoops, wrong chat. Have a good night." It's shameful how much one stupid video affects you. "You were always a shit liar." You shoot back without thinking. "Give me 20." "No." "Fine, 10. I'll be down the block."

Sweats, no bra, ratty shirt, keys, and your jacket. The heal of your slides barely pops over your foot as you cross the threshold of your apartment. No excuse necessary to the boyfriend, he's still asleep on the couch, instead you leave a note and a glass of water near him. A simple "out for a bit, back soon" without elaboration. Liars always over-elaborate. You're not lying. You're just not telling the whole truth.

"Hello Princess," Yunho's shit eating smirk is barely hidden by the glow of the streetlamps. You stand with the door open, legs refusing to get in. "Go ahead. Say you were right. I'm waiting." "I don't need to, you know that."

Half of you wants to slam the door and walk away. That's the good option or at least neutral option. The other half, the lower half, needs him. Your grip on the door tightens as you groan. The anguish of your halves tearing you apart weighs on your shaking knees. "What do you want, Yunho?" "You." "You had me. You're such a fucking liar," your voice trembles as it raises. You can feel the air in the neighborhood shift uneasily. "Get in the car," his voice in comparison is eerily calm. "Talk to me." Your heart wills your brain to act. You sit, shutting the door behind you.

"Now what about you? What do you want? Getting into your ex's car late at night after a subpar fuck from your current beau really..." Yunho sucks in his breath. "It's a choice." Staring straight ahead you have no answer for him. There's no answer even for yourself. Every other time you could claim you were a victim of gravitational pull, of circumstance, of happenstance. Places you couldn't necessarily run away from him. There was some culpable deniability. However here, now, in the middle of the night you'd run towards the red taillights of his car, knowing exactly what was coming for you. There was no one but yourself to blame.

"I want you to fuck me." Yunho nods. "Can you drive like...somewhere else?" He takes the car out of park, the wheels slowly rolling forward as his foot comes off the break. "Don't wanna fuck where your neighbors could see?" Your stomach twists again with guilt. The silence fills your ears as Yunho drives. The only break in the whir of the engine is the gentle thud of the tires over the cracks in the pavement.

"I don't love you. I don't even think I like you. I just want you to fuck me." Yunho grins. Wanting him was enough, the seed of the idea left to grow. It wouldn't be long, even if you were continuing to deny it. "Right Princess, you were pretty clear about wanting to fuck." "I love my boyfriend." He chuckles to himself. The words sounded so hollow as they floated in the air between you. He didn't need to point out the obvious. No matter how much he wanted to, he had you now and could lose you again just as fast. "Where did you tell him you were going?" "I didn't."

Yunho pulls into the darkest section of the overflow parking lot just outside the mall. Broken streetlight paired with lax security, he knew the spot well. Parking quickly he pushes his seat back as far as it will go and unbuckles both of your seatbelts. You stare at him, dumbfounded as he pulls out a dashboard reflector and pops it into the front window, the sides already benefiting from being heavily tinted. "Really?" You ask incredulously. "Yeah, you want a blanket or-" "Really." Yunho can hear the disapproval without seeing your face. "You said you wanted to fuck. If you wanted something else you should've asked." He pats his lap. "Climb on in, plenty of space for you, princess." The lights in the car finally dim and flicker out. "Wow, even less romantic than he-" There's not a lot that angers Yunho but you sure knew how to find what would. He reaches over between your legs and pulls the bar that unlocks the seat to push yours back to match his, practically knocking the wind out of you as it jolts to the end of the track. "Don't make me come over there instead. It's not my preferrence but I'll make it work."

Your pulse quickens. Coaxing one leg over, his hands hold your waist steady, The seat creaks as you lean your elbows into the backrest, just over Yunho's shoulders. He lets his hands travel up your torso as you try to find a comfortable position. Somehow they always seem to dwarf you in their grasp. "No bra?" He cups your breast in is palm, the answer obvious to both of you. Your nipple peaks through the space between his fingers. Yunho doesn't miss the opportunity to lightly squeeze you, earning a small gasp from you. It hadn't even been that long since he last heard them and still he missed it. "You can be loud here, no ones coming for at least the next hour, even with the car parked." You don't ask how he knows that. Instead you allow your eyes to close as he pushes your shirt up just enough to put his lips around your other nipple, carefully tracing his tongue around it. He suppresses a chuckle as you squirm in his lap. It's cute that you still don't know where to put your hands, attempting to run your fingernails along his scalp before your finger involuntarily grip with a fresh wave of arousal. As much as you know how to push his buttons, he can press yours right back.

"Why- why pants-" Yunho is breathless as he fumbles with the elastic waistband of your sweats. Finally shoving his hand down the front, his fingers run along the sticky patch clinging to your cunt. "You know I've gotta stretch you out." It takes everything within Yunho to not add a snide remark towards the other man. Not now, while your practically melting in his arms. "Yuyu," you gasp as he slides a finger inside of you. The almost pathetic whine that accompanies his pet name has his head spinning as the blood in his brain empties south to his cock.

Your walls clamp around his finger as you pant. The angle Yunho's arm is at is awful for his wrist but he bears it, sliding in a second alongside the first and curling both forwards in you. He finds the spot easily, your forehead pressing into his shoulder harder as he grazes over it again and again. "That's my good girl," he mutters. The vibration of a muffled groan shakes through his shoulder. Your hips eagerly grind down, wanting just a bit more, a bit faster. He wants to give all of that to you and more but.... "-Fuck this angle-" he grimaces, pulling his fingers from you and licking them clean. "Why," you whine. Less of a question more of a vocalization of your disappointment. "Can you just fuck me already?" "If you'd given me 20 minutes and not 10..." Yunho grunts. "Don't want you to go through the effort and leave disappointed."

There's some careful limb tetris that happens to get you out of your sweats, but it happens. Yunho simultaneously reaching back and grabbing the large wool blanket from the seats to drape over you. Soon it would be summer and this wouldn't be an issue. Sundresses, his cock twitches thinking about it. Sundresses and sleep shorts with nothing underneath. Instead of repositioning you in his lap, he leads you to sit on one thigh. Hands coaxing you down harder against his flexed quad. It's enough to get the idea of what he wants you to do. His thighs are slim but powerful, like his hands. "Gonna make sure you're nice and ready for me this time. No complaining, hm?" Yunho whispers close to your body. Dragging your hips over him, you find yourself clinging with your arms wrapped around his neck. Panting as arousal pools in your gut, your essence fully leaking through your panties onto him. It helps that he sounds so good, smells so good. His vocalizations rarely leave the low airy grumble in his chest as he brings you to your first gentle orgasm, your own thighs locking and seizing around his.

Yanking you up towards his middle, Yunho presses the waistband of his pants down just enough to free his length. Velvety, veiny, and large, just as you remembered. Not that it had been particularly long since you'd last experienced it but admittedly it had been some time since you'd dared to look. "Open your mouth any wider and I'll think it's an invitation," Yunho cups your chin in his palm, thumb brushing over your lower lip. You hadn't even noticed you were gaping at him. "Don't worry, I'm good at making it fit." He scoots down a bit to help, seat as reclined as possible, looking up at you with a dopy grin and half lidded puppy eyes. Watching your face change as he fills you almost excruciatingly slowly is his favorite part. Your tight walls flutter as they stretch to accommodate him. Warm and wet and all his. Thighs trembling as you lower yourself was just the icing on the cake.

Taking advantage of your shirt hanging loosely, Yunho runs his hands up your front to pinch and play with your hardened nipples again. You squirm almost three quarters of the way full of him, bouncing almost in microscopically out of instinct. You'd always liked the extra attention. "You're doing so well," he coos with a harder tug. "Just a little more to go." "Yuyu," you whine. "What?" "You know!" He giggles as he kisses your chest and feels you writhe. Neither one of you bothers to stifle your moans as your wriggling finally sheethes him fully inside of you. Slowly your hips roll, grinding your front against him.

"No marks," you manage to whisper as you feel his teeth graze you. "Yuyu-please-" "He'll just think it's his." Yunho barely muffles his own editorializing in your flesh. His hands hold you fast to him, leverage for your winding. Kisses continuing to litter faint bruises in shaded places, he ignores your request. You don't press him on it. It feels too good to have his lips coveting you. Both of you move slowly, the lack of space is difficult but not impossible. Pressed together, chest to chest, exchanging heartbeats and heat. Yunho's arms snake around you, clinging to you. In the dark ocean of the night all he needs is you. Your tiny gasps and whines. Your warmth. Your love.

"God, I feel so-" your lips can't finish the sentences you start. Bodily fluids cling and slip between the two of you, the fabric of his pants slowly darkening with dampness. Your bounces slow, letting your hips take control. "-I know, Princess. You're all stuffed full aren't you?" He teasing tone makes your walls clench. Rocking up into you, pushing into your flesh as deep as he can go. "Yuyu I can't," you start to pout, "I'm so close but I can't." Your legs shake and twitch. Riding him like this is exhausting. "Want me to make you cum?" "Yeah." His hands drop to your hips as he slides down the chair. Jamming his shoulders back for leverage he plants his feet and presses his hips upwards, the position is uncomfortable but your expression immediately changes. Eyes rolled back, you groan. The sweet spot found. Yunho's smile becomes infuriatingly smug, holding your hips and hammering up into that tender area. The entire car shakes with you. His arms help you bounce with him, hoisting you up against gravity just to use it to slam himself deeper.

You grip the shoulder of the seat behind him, knuckles turning white as your core winds itself tightly. Yunho watches your brows knit as your walls clamp down around him, mouth open in a silent scream as air is trapped in your lungs. When you cum, you're silent except for your haggard breaths. He fucks you through it, close to his own climax. "You shouldn't-inside-we shouldn't-" you mutter like a woman possessed. "Shouldn't or don't?" Yunho grunts. "Tell me not to cum inside you and I won't." "Yunho," you whine. All of your faculties are stunted by your base needs. "Otherwise I'm going to cum so deep in you that it'll still be dripping out tomorrow. You'd like that wouldn't you? Bet it'd make your cunt clench." "Fuck- yuyu!" "Tell me now. Shouldn't or don't?"

Your climax is a blinding white behind your eyelids, lips crashing into his with a force that surprises even you. Pulling him up, closer, as if you could steal his aura through willpower alone. Take back the part of you that won't let him go with a single kiss. That only happens in fairy tales. Instead he leans up with you, hands slipping up to cradle your back as he empties himself in you. Groaning into eachother's mouths as refractory shocks travel between. Your kisses become competition, leaving both of your lips swollen and raw until you finally give in and lean your head on his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.

Slowly softening inside of you, the mixture of fluids have started to drip down his length. Yunho knows he's on borrowed time at this point. Someone has to have noticed at this point. A security guard somewhere or maybe even the man haunting your apartment. He jostles the shoulder your head is rested on lightly, "we have to clean up." "Why'd you have to cum inside?" You sound half asleep and petulant. "You didn't say not to." He's right but- Yunho holds you tightly as he leans to the side, fishing a box of tissues from the back. Always prepared, like a good boy scout. Always willing to help. Trying to leave things better than he found them.

The ride back is silent, one hand on your thigh and one on the wheel. Streetlights burn warmly yet still seem lonely as they stand alone to guide you home. Your finger itch as you fight the urge to hold his hand, interlace your fingers with his. "Stop here." You croak, strangely robotically. Pulling over to the very end of your block. Makes sense to Yunho. Best not to pull up to the doorstep with your ex in the early morning. "Let me know how the drips go," he winks expectantly. Your steely expression sinks his stomach. "Don't call me, don't text me, don't check in on me, don't show up to any of my friend's events. Pretend this never happened, pretend we never happened. Pretend I died if you have to. I never want to see you or hear from you again. Understand?" All the wind is knocked from him. For the first time he feels at a loss for words. He winces. It looks like a small nod. "Goodbye Yunho. Good luck with...well. Goodbye."

Obviously this is not goodbye but we're about to see a bit from yunho's perspective. spoilers he's not really a good guy.

cheater!yunhoverse in order:  [9:42PM] / kinktober / [12:39AM] / [10:45PM] / [you are here]

[luveline]

Hiiii, I don’t know if you’re up for any marauders requests- so no pressure!!

If you are though, I recently sprained my wrist pretty (really) bad at work and have been not great about taking care of it, resting, ect.

If it’s not too much trouble- could I get a lil thing about the marauders absolutely doting on reader over an injury? Like so soft and sweet it could give you diabetes.

Thank you!!!

hope this is okay sweetness! fem!reader, 2k

"She's trying to stand up again," James says, finger hooked in your belt loop. 

You glare at him down on the sofa. "Tattle tale," you scold. It's hard to maintain; he looks very sweet today, everyday, and more than handsome. 

Remus stands in the doorway to the living room, the smell of the honey tea he's making on his heels. "Why, dove?" he asks, sounding amusedly horrified. "Can't you stay still for ten minutes?" 

"I just thought I'd help with the tea," you say, taking a painful step toward him. James gasps and actually stands himself. 

Your eyes widen. James is more of a threat-giver than an enforcer. He loves telling on you or better yet enabling your bad behaviour, but if he's getting up it means he won't be allowing you any further self-detriment. 

"Be gentle," Remus says. 

James raises his eyebrows at you and crowds you, hands on your hips. He gives you a little push. "Sit back down." 

You sit, and your ankle feels better for it immediately, but you cross your arms over your chest and huff so they know you don't appreciate being bossed around. James laughs, more than aware. 

"It's for your own good," he says. 

Remus returns with your tea and you say thanks even though you're pretending to be annoyed with them both. "I would like to be allowed to get my own tea," you say, pleased when James sits back at your side with his own cup of tea, his arm heavy against you. "It's not as bad as you think it is, I promise." 

"You have a bruise bigger than Jersey on your ankle and…" James lowers his voice slightly, "I know it's hurting even when you aren't standing. You get a notch between your brows, right here," he says, tapping the space above your nose. 

"The less you use it the quicker it will get better," Remus says. 

"That logic only applies to injury," says a new voice. The front door closes, and after a second Sirius appears in his coat and jacket. "The more you use me, the better I get." He winks at you. 

You wink back. Delighted, Sirius peels out of his coat and shoes and swiftly takes the empty seat on your left. He kisses your cheek hello, his slender fingers tucked deftly behind your ear so he can turn your face to his. 

"Have you been resting?" he asks. 

"No," Remus and James say at the same time. 

"She's done the opposite," James adds.

"Yes, well, she's not perfect." He shakes his head at you hurriedly, mouthing, "You are perfect." 

You know he's joking but you get all melted, tight shoulders lax, head dipping back against the sofa cushions. Sirius hums his approval and strokes your cheek with his thumb. He's not usually the most affectionate of the boys, but when you're injured he acts like you're on your deathbed and deserving of the world's collective sweetness. 

"How was work?" you ask him. 

"Agony," he says quietly, and he's putting it on, trying to make you squirm. It's working. "I was worried about you." 

"I take offence to that," James says. 

"I know you're taking care of her," Sirius says, "don't be daft, I just know she won't behave. Especially if I'm not here." 

Half of a biscuit soars toward Sirius and hits him in the chest. Entertained, you follow its trajectory back to the source and find Remus in the big armchair, cup of tea cradled atop his knee. "What?" he asks, seemingly chewing the first half of the biscuit. 

"Sirius–" James warns. 

"Prick," Sirius says. 

Remus swallows his biscuit and takes a sip of tea. "Oh, sorry. Slipped." 

"Why have you chucked a biscuit at me?" Sirius asks. 

James takes the biscuit and eats it. You laugh from behind your hand. 

"No reason. Y/N, dovey, do you want a biscuit?" Remus asks you. 

You nod and start to stand to retrieve one, but two arms grab your waist. James' arm, tan, steely without any effort, stops you from getting any further. Sirius', less strong but twice as eager, pulls you into his side with a groan. 

"Please sit down," he says. 

You sigh and let your head drop onto James' shoulder. "I'm sitting. I just want a biscuit." 

Remus sits on the coffee table in front of you with a funny look on his face, a mixture of love and disbelief. "I was bringing them to you." He squeezes the tin closed in his lap, his eyes resolutely on yours so you're forced to meet his gaze. He's handsome, too, they all are, but Remus doesn't know it, unaware of the effect his eyes have on you, the colour like browned honey and the little specks of amber that surround his pupil. "I'll give you a biscuit if you promise to stop making it worse." 

"Really," James seconds, "we want you to get better, that's all." 

You slouch further into his shoulder, away from their doting concern. "It's not as bad as you think it is."

That's a bad lie. You and Sirius had been walking back up the garden steps after a red squirrel stakeout —the squirrels keep eating from Remus' bird feeders and therefore scaring away the birds— and you slipped in a strange way. You ended up sprawled out on your back and you'd burst into laughter, while Sirius looked down on you absolutely horrified. It was only later, an hour or so afterwards, when you'd been helped up and placed affectionately in bed, that your ankle started to ache, and you found you couldn't put any weight on it after all. Your panicked tears had terrified the three of them. They've been ridiculously lovely since then. 

"Maybe I could have another look?" Remus asks. 

It's a well-organised dance when you're together, and this part's no different. Remus hands the biscuit tin to James as he stands, and Sirius pushes the table back with his foot so Remus has room to kneel down in front of you. James opens the biscuit tin and knows your favourite without having to ask, offering it to you as Remus straightens out your leg. 

"Is this compression thing a good idea all of the time?" Sirius asks. 

Remus pulls it down, humming as you hiss in pain. "Oh, I know, dove. I'll be really quick," he promises. 

"It's not so horribly bruised," James says. 

"I hate that we're all looking at my foot right now." 

Remus squeezes your toes. If you weren't wearing a sock under the compression support you'd have to break up with him. 

"I think it looks less swollen," he says eventually, rolling up your sock and putting the compression back into the proper place. You gasp at the sudden movement and his brows crease in sympathy. "Sorry, dove." 

"Let's elevate it, right?" James asks. 

"Yes, I think so. I'll get you a pillow," Remus says.

He stands up, turns to leave, and then turns back to press a kiss to your temple. 

"Me too," Sirius says, kissing your cheek. 

Having refused to move from James' shoulder in your embarrassment, you're out of the way for James to kiss you too, and it's a good thing. Anymore sweetness and you'd probably melt into the threads of the sofa. 

"I'll owe you one," James says. 

Remus gets a pillow to prop up your foot. James becomes your dedicated human blanket. Sirius looks for a film to watch on the telly while discussing takeaway options, even when Remus claims that he's going to cook tonight. 

"Takeaway is too expensive," Remus says. 

"Cooking makes a mess that you'll insist on cleaning," Sirius argues. 

"Takeaway also makes a mess," James says. 

"We can't cook because I can't help," you declare. "And that's not fair. You guys will all be laughing and flirting in the kitchen and I'll be sat here by my lonesome watching Footloose."   

"Footloose isn't on until ten," Sirius says, looking at the TV info bar with a smile, "you'd be watching Night Rider." 

Remus holds his hand out from the armchair. It's miles from reaching you, but you know he's suggesting an alliance. "How about," he begins softly, "we have a takeaway and those two can do whatever they want." 

"Remus," James says. 

You stand up on your uninjured foot. The boys groan at your moving but don't argue, letting you limp to the armchair where Remus is sitting with little more than a chorus of defeated sighs. He puts his arms out for you, his hands and grip strong as he helps you down into the seat next to him. There's not really enough room for two, but he makes it, his arm crossing over your chest and under your arm to lock you in against him. 

"This is ridiculous," James says. 

Sirius shuffles across the sofa into the gap you've left behind. "We could always hide the menus," he says to James. "Neither of them know the numbers. Plus, she can't walk and he can't be bothered." 

Remus pulls you in impossibly closer. "That's true." 

The two boys opposite spring up from their seats, laughing as they begin plotting a cruel plan. You rub your fingertips up and down the length of the arm holding you, letting your head flop back into Remus' chest as you say, "They'll realise they like us too much to starve us soon enough." 

"I know." His hold on you relaxes. "I really do wish you'd stop putting weight on your foot. Please. It needs time to get better." 

"Okay," you say, a sucker for him when he talks so softly. "Sorry. No more walking around while it heals." 

"Don't be sorry, just get better quickly. I need reinforcements against their nonsense." 

"You love their nonsense." 

James and Sirius return looking pleased with themselves not long after, and an hour passes quietly. When the doorbell rings, you're unsurprised to find they've ordered your favourite takeaway. 

"You're predictable," Remus says.

"Well," Sirius says, lifting his chin, arms laden with cartons, "how else is she supposed to get better? She needs food." 

In an example of extreme overkill, Remus and James act as crutches, helping you walk the short distance from the living room to the kitchen table. You're surprised James doesn't just attempt to pick you up in a fireman's lift, as is his usual style. 

Sirius sets the table. Remus makes drinks. James doles out the portions of food, knowing what everyone wants without having to ask, and you miss being able to help. You're usually moving with them, an integral thread, ebbing and flowing in tandem. It's nice to watch them together, but you miss doing your part. James' hand warm on your hip as he eases you out of the way, or Sirius' childish attempts at tripping you up on the way to the silverware drawer. 

"Sorry for being so useless lately," you say, twisting the fork in your hand over and over. 

Three glares pierce you at once. "Who says you're useless?" James asks. 

"You're out of commission for the moment," Remus says agreeably, "that's far from useless." 

"I feel bad, having you wait on me. I know I'm making it worse all the time by refusing to just rest but I don't like you having to do everything for me, it's not fair." 

Sirius sits down in the chair beside yours, tucking himself in quickly. "You realise that we'd look after you forever, right? Like, if you needed this much help and looking after every day, that wouldn't be a problem." 

You shake your head. "Don't be silly." 

James clears his throat. "No, listen to him. He's right." 

"We don't mind helping you to the table, or carrying your washing downstairs for you, or any of the things we've offered to do for you since you hurt your ankle." 

Remus sits in the seat across from you with a pointed look. James joins him, a packet of painkillers in hand. He pops two out for you, saying, "You're not useless just because we've had to give you some help. And if you were useless it wouldn't matter. So don't say sorry." 

Remus nods. "Exactly. Don't feel guilty about an accident, dove." 

You look at Sirius unsurely. "You really don't mind looking after me?" 

He reaches over to handle your thigh. "No," he says, gaze soft, fingers squeezing into the fat of your leg lovingly, "we really don't mind." 

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Hey I hope you have a great day.

So I just saw the post with the wrath of the creator on Azar and I had an idea.

I am very emotional and I bailed my eyes out when I did the chasm quest with xiao and he nearly died AND I got a sad cutscene of the adepti after so my traveler was just stuck in the dialog with Xiao while I was crying a whole waterfall and sniffing really loudly and the only other quest where I had that was when we were in the chasm with dain and he tells us that the hillichurls are cursed people from Khanri'ah. I stood in front of the corpses and cried heart out.

So I wanted to ask the characters reactions to that. Especially Xiao, the archons we know (because khanri'ah and its destruction is a big thing here) and dainsleif.

I'm sorry this got so long. If you want to change something or want to add someone or take a character out it's okay, this is just my 5 am thought I just had.

Alr, Anon! Coming right up! Imma just focus on the Perilous Quest lol-

Creator Having A Meltdown During Perilous Quest

(Warning: Might Be OOC & Spoilers to the Perilous Archon Quest!)

Yelan

She wasn't going to lie, she wasn't expecting you to cry your heart out so freely. Raw emotion was hard to come by when people grow. They tend to be more...seclusive, with their emotions.

You, on the other hand, were free-balling it. You did NOT care if people were gonna look at you weird, you are gonna cry because you are sad! And honestly, Yelan's glad that the Almighty Creator is expressive and sentient. It proves just how much you care for the characters.

"It seems the Almighty Creator is far more connected than anyone thought..." She wonders what she can do with this information, but at the same time, keep it under wraps. Letting this information slip into the wrong hands was always dangerous.

She wouldn't gamble your safety. Never. Safe to say Yelan's got you covered.

Itto

Woah, woah! He did not expect you, the Almighty Creator, to be crying their eyes out the moment he wakes up from passing out and all that—what he miss? What happened while he was sleeping?

Wait, they're not in the Chasm anymore? Oh Archons, someone just tell him what happened! Why the heck is the Creator balling his eyes out?

"Huh—? What's going on? We're out of the chasm?" Poor guy is so oblivious, and no one's bothering to fill him in—at least, at the moment.

He'll pester Shinobu about this later. Just, someone, stop the Creator from crying! Those are sad tunes, not something you want to hear when you should be celebrating about leaving that gloomy place!

Yanfei

She was NOT expecting you to be this emotional! Yanfei feels a little guilty not being able to do anything about it, to be honest...

She has to resist the urge to shake Xiao out of his stupor, because a) that was unprofessional, b) she's more relieved than anything, and c) Yanfei wasn't sure if you, the Creator, would think she was okay if she started acting out like that.

So, instead, she tries to ground herself, and do her best to make sure that the situation is fine, and that everything will be okay. That's the least she can do to reassure you, and everyone else, right?

"Hopefully, Their Grace will stop those tears...Hearing them sad makes me feel sad..." As a lawyer, Yanfei knows how to sympathize with her clients. This, however, felt like she could really understand what you were going through—there was a bond between you and everyone.

She doesn't want to make you sad. That's one thing for sure. Yanfei wouldn't be able to sleep out of guilt otherwise.

Shinobu

She wasn't expecting you to be crying your heart out, but she loves how sentient you are. It shows just how you truly care about Xiao, and about everyone.

She really appreciates you. She can see how you connect with every character—how you cheer with everyone, cherish the moment with everyone, rejoice, and mourn. This was visible proof of it all.

"Hm...How should we comfort Their Grace..." Shinobu wants to do something—for the sake of the gang's gratitude for their Almighty Creator. And everyone here as well.

You contributed much of yourself for them. For that, she's grateful.

She'll have to explain to Boss later...but that's besides the point right now.

Xiao

He feels guilty for making you cry. He heard you call out his name several many times. He hears how you ball your eyes out, thinking you were gonna lose him, only for Rex Lapis to save him just in time.

He doesn't know if the Lord of Geo heard your divine prayers, or if he went on his own accord, but he feels guilty. He placed a heavy burden on you. He didn't mean to.

"How should I make it up to Their Grace..." He listens to how you scream and cry (out of joy now) that he was alive. You, the Almighty Creator, already connected yourself to someone like him. Your bond was too severe, and he tried to cut it off.

But the way the Traveler is smiling at them with a reassuring smile, Xiao wonders if he will be forgiven. Perhaps far quicker than he imagined.

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: This honestly feels too OOC—I don't really know Yelan's personality all that well, and honestly I don't think I caught the full potential of Yanfei, Itto, and Shinobu. I do hope you enjoyed this, but I'm also sorry if this came out disappointing.

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[jasmineoolongtea]

Okay I have a weird request but since you're so good at writing I'm gonna shoot my shot lol. No pressure though! How about a huge misunderstanding between reader and jjk men (and boys), where one is somehow convinced the other is cheating (tho they're not and are totally loyal!) and it causes a big argument with one of them walking out and saying "I'm done." But then when they realise there was no cheating going on it's soft and sweet and full of apology? You can add whoever you'd like, though would love to see Gojo, Geto and Nanami!

a/n: hii anon thank you for your compliments <333 honestly when i saw the words 'weird request' i was thinking in a completely different direction from this but this request is totally normal so do not worry about it at all !!! also so sorry this took a while to get out back to you anon i had to study for and take my driver's licence test ;-; hope i can do your request justice and hope you enjoy it !!!

if anyone had asked gojo satoru what he thought of his relationship, his answer would undoubtedly be that it was rock solid, that nothing could ever phase the two of you, not even the end of the world, and he would probably take off with a skip in his step as he makes his way to go shower you in affection.

so then, if that was true, why was there a pang of an ugly and uncomfortable feeling making its way up his throat at the sight of someone else's jacket wrapped around your figure.

"i'm home, toru!" you cheerily announce, as usual, exhaustion from the day melting off your body as you shed your belongings at the entryway to your apartment. it's been a long day and there's nothing more that you would like to do than to slink back into bed and into your lover's forever warm embrace.

however, unlike usual, satoru does not greet you with a bright grin to sweep you up in his arms and pepper your face with kisses. instead, he stands motionless in the hallway, his face a mixture of emotions. he doesn't meet your eyes, choosing to glare at the new unfamiliar article of clothing with a sense of contempt.

eerily, satoru is silent. you can't help but attempt to shake off the feeling that something's wrong.

"what's that?" he asks, monotone, his voice is devoid of its typical energy and affection like you're nothing more than a stranger, or perhaps something even worse.

"oh, this?" you look down at yourself and suddenly remember that you were still wearing your co-worker's jacket. "ah right, i forgot a co-worker gave this to me earlier when i was complaining that the ac was too cold." you remark, brushing past him as you move to hang up the jacket on the apartment's coat rack.

you hum absent-mindedly to yourself as you do, thinking to yourself that satoru just probably had a rough day, no thanks to the higher-ups of course, and that was the reason for his strange demeanour today. your back is facing towards him as you pipe up, "remind me tomorrow to return this to him when i head for work."

'him', a bitter taste fills his mouth. there's a heaviness at the bottom of his gut, one that threatens to pull him down with it the more he thinks about it. he soon realises what this feeling is; it's jealousy, an emotion that he thought he was better than, that is gnawing its way into his mind and his vision becomes clouded. he grits his teeth, his jaw tense up.

"right, of course, you're in such a hurry to see him again." he scoffs off-handily to himself. there's a bitter edge to his words and this doesn't go by unnoticed by you.

you turn to face him fully, your lips drawn into a tight line. there's a hidden insinuation lying behind his words, one that you don't necessarily appreciate. "what are you trying to imply here, satoru?"

he decides it would be better to spit it out than to let it fester there on the tip of his tongue. "are you seeing someone else?"

your jaw drops at his accusation. "are you serious? is this really how you see me satoru?" you question, your beautiful face twisting into an expression of deep pain.

a wave of regret instantly washes over him.

satoru doesn't respond and you take his silence as his answer. your throat suddenly feels tight as you choke out, "look, if you're really going to be like this. i-i don't think i can do this anymore." you turn away from him, making your way towards the entrance as you hurriedly scoop up your belongs in a half hazard manner.

you're unsure on whether or not it's sadness or anger that's tugging at your heart right now but what you do know is that there's a sense of betrayal that lingers in the air.

"wait." he pleads, the previous stupid jealousy he might have felt before is long gone by now and all he's left with is the burning pain of regret. if there was an option to undo everything he just said he would take it in a heartbeat.

he reaches out to you and makes a desperate last attempt to stop you from leaving by holding onto your wrist. "please, wait can we talk this out?"

his much larger hand engulfs your wrist and you can't deny how pained his voice sounds and how it tugs at your heart, begging you to stay, but then you remember how fresh the pain was of being accused by someone you thought would be able to trust you wholeheartedly and so, you shrug him off.

"i'm done. goodbye, satoru." you walk out as the door slams closed behind you, leaving him alone to stew in regret.

it's been 10 hours since you left, rightfully so with how he was behaving like an insecure ass to you, and it's been 4 hours of failed attempts to sleep off the ache he feels growing in his chest. he doesn't know why he had acted like that, accusing you of such things completely unwarranted and maybe if he was going to be more purposefully obtuse, he might blame it on the green-eyed monster but even he knows that it would just be a poor deflection of blame.

exhausted from hours of self-inflicted insomnia, he rolls out of bed and stares at the mess of white sheets left in your wake. satoru always slept better when he was with you and now he's just gone and ruined one of the best things he's ever had.

would it be so terrible if he put aside his pride to go begging for your forgiveness for his stupidness? he sure as hell doesn't deserve it right now but he knows that he'll hate himself forever if he never tries. and so, that's how satoru finds himself at your doorstep, soaking wet from the rain and knocking on your door.

against all odds, you answer, though obviously just barely having escaped the clutches of sleep as you rub your eyes tiredly. you're greeted with the sight of him standing at your door and all the conflicting feelings that you tried to bury away previously come crawling back up.

"...what are you doing here, satoru? it's like 2am." you're completely drained and not in the mood for a screaming match if that is what he's here for.

he looks haggard in all senses of the word. his hair is tousled in a sweaty mess from tossing and turning around a bed that feels way too empty with wisps of white hair clinging to his forehead. his clothes are dishevelled in a way which tells you he just threw on the first thing he found in his haste to make it to your apartment and the skin under his eyes is hollowed out as he stares at you with red-rimmed eyes.

gojo satoru looks defeated, to say the least.

"i'm sorry, for everything," he starts off, his chest heaves up and down with shaky breaths. you're not sure if it's him shivering from the rain or just his nerves. "truly deeply sorry." his voice is totally devoid of malice and instead it's more like the satoru you know and love but with a new found rawness and vulnerability to it.

you're not sure what to say, avoiding his gaze as best as you can as you fidget with the sleeves of your hoodie, the one that you stole from him ages ago. he notices that and there's a flutter of hope in his heart, but he pushes on with his apology, choosing to not let himself get carried away with that.

"i'm stupid, okay? i'm a monumental idiot." you laugh slightly at that. he takes that as a good sign and that ball of hope within him grows a little stronger. satoru takes a deep sigh, as if to steady himself before continuing.

"i don't know why i said that and you don't deserve any of those thoughts or accusations okay? hell, i'm pretty sure i don't deserve you with how i've been acting today. you don't need to forgive me or anything but i just want you to know i'm sorry."

"satoru-"

"-and i know that and if you want to punch me or kick me to the curb that's also completely fine. i won't blame you i pro-" he's suddenly cut off by the tug of his t-shirt and the feeling of soft, warm lips, your lips, against his as he falls into an awe-struck silence. your lips part from his and he already feels that he's gone on for too long without them.

you smile at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling slightly and he can feel all of the regret that was eating him alive before melting away, like fallen snow when the spring sun makes its glorious return back to earth. "yes, i forgive you, you massive fool. you're definitely an idiot but you're my idiot."

he takes your hands in his and brings them up to his lips, whispering into them,

"that's right, i'm yours."

you know the phrase 'seeing is believing'? yeah, geto suguru thinks that's probably one of the dumbest phrases he's ever had the pleasure, or displeasure in this case, of hearing. there's a lot of things that you can't see but you can still believe in; an example would be gravity. you don't need to see it to know that it exists and believe in it so why is visual confirmation the default that people go to?

that is until he saw you in the arms of someone else and maybe, in that moment, he realised that the phrase might have more merit to it than he had originally placed on it.

honestly, you were already having an awful day. you had just barely the train to your work by the millisecond so you were left waiting around for 5 minutes before the next train came and much to your chagrin, you were left standing for the entirety of the 20-minute journey and had officially arrived at your workplace late.

to pile on to that, you remembered that you had very conveniently forgotten all of the things you needed to bring in for that very specific day and had to do the whole journey again to avoid incurring the wrath of your boss.

and the cherry on top? it was running into that co-worker that you hated with all your guts and getting their coffee spilt on your very nice white shirt, whether intentionally or unintentionally you'll deal with that issue later.

however, this left you with an embarrassing large stain right front and centre for the rest of the day until the universe decided to grant you a small mercy by having your other co-worker offer you a spare change of clothes which you gratefully accepted. as you did, you could feel the pointed stares of the other members of your workplace burning angry holes through your back which only left you with an unsettling feeling in your gut. albeit, you brushed it off quickly as you couldn't really linger on the issue.

it was always like this when you two interacted in both a friendly and professional capacity. the occasion or even context of the interaction didn't matter to the rest of them when all they saw was the office crush acting nice with you and you reciprocating this niceness to an extent that made them seethe with jealousy over the fact that it wasn't them.

maybe they should learn that they could get his respect by treating him as a person rather than an object to fawn over but again, that was a conversation for another day and they should have known that you only had eyes for one man, in the form of your boyfriend suguru, anyways.

suguru wasn't someone who was super public about his affection for you with grand displays of PDA, but what mattered to you and him was that he showed in ways that were important to both of you and that was enough.

that was why he found himself standing at the door of your workplace, a small bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand, waiting to surprise you and pick you up the moment you were done with your shift. he leans against the cool surface of the cement wall behind him and imagines the delighted look on your face when you see him there. his lips curve into a slight smile at that mental image.

he glances at the watch on his wrist, a present from you from a previous anniversary and one he treasured deeply as evidenced by the fact that there was barely a scratch on its glass shell, and silently counts down the minutes in his head. while lost in his own thoughts, he fails to notice a group of employees passing by him though he does manage to pick up bits and pieces of their fleeting conversation.

"can you believe them? throwing themself all over him like that?" one voice chides.

"i know right? it's like they have no shame at all." another adds bitterly.

"you know, it makes me think that there's something going on between them." and that earns them a chorus of agreement from their little group.

suguru pays them little mind though, believing it to be just simple office gossip that he could care less about unless it was coming from you, then he would be hooked on every single detail you fed him like his life depended on it. he hears footsteps from around the corner and notes an all-too-familiar giggle as the people emerge. it's you and he walks forward a bit more to see if he can spot you.

however, he's greeted with an awful sight. the source of your melodic laughter appears to be the man standing next to you and before you two part, he leans down to give you a hug, one that you seemingly receive with open arms. there's a sinking sensation at the bottom of his stomach when he watches the both of you linger for a second.

when you part, not before thanking your co-worker again for his kindness, you turn around and notice suguru standing a few metres in front of you. "sugu? what are you doing here?" you ask, pleasantly surprised by his sudden appearance and you light up with happiness at the sight of him. you stop in your tracks when you realise he hasn't made a single move to greet you.

the smile on your face drops slightly as your eyebrows furrow in concern for his strange stillness. you take a step closer towards him but he remains still as a statue. there's the sound of crumpled paper as his grip tightens around the bouquet that he's still holding.

you're both silent for a second before he speaks up.

"are you cheating on me?" though his question is straightforward, his tone is unsure.

he doesn't want to believe that you could be doing that but he can't help but draw his own conclusions about what he just saw, especially in light of the comments he overheard which now suddenly make sense if he looks at them from this newfound angle.

a look of betrayal flickers through your eyes at his words. there's an undeniable bitter aftertaste in his mouth that he can't swallow down.

"is that you really think this is?" there's a pained edge to your voice and you can feel an uncomfortable tightness around your throat as you try to fight back the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"suguru, i would never do that! we're just co-workers, don't you believe me?" he doesn't look at you, choosing to actively avoid your gaze instead and you can feel yourself faltering as the grim reality of the situation dawns on you with solemn resignation.

"you know, suguru, i've had a really awful day today and this is not helping at all. i'm done with this. goodbye, suguru." and before he can say anything, you brush past him as you make your way to god knows where. as you walk off, he finally realises that the sinking feeling in his stomach is regret.

after you dissapear into the twisting streets, suguru is overwhelmed with this awful feeling of regret as he realises how rash he was in jumping to a conclusion that had no basis aside from some stupid off-handed comments he overheard and a hug that could very well just be only friendly and nothing more. all he can think about is apologising to you and hopefully finding a way back into your good graces again.

unfortunately for him, you've turned off your phone so he can't even call you to find out where you are but even if it was on, he doubts that you would even pick up and that is definitely deserved on his behalf. he stops and thinks to himself for a moment and decides to take a chance on the first place he can come up with.

thankfully, his gut is right and he finds you sitting on a grassy hill, your grassy hill with him, absent-mindedly plucking up strands of grass before discarding them. there's the sound of grass crunching underneath shoe soles as suguru takes his place next to you.

"what are you doing here, suguru?" you're not looking at him and he can feel a pang of pain in his chest.

"had a feeling you would be here."

you scoff half-heartedly. a shaky breath escapes your lips as you turn to him, your eyes are slightly red-rimmed and there's an unmistakable shimmery glean to your cheeks from your tears. another tug of his heart. "what do you want? because it seemed like you were pretty much done with me at that point."

"i want to apologise." there's a look of surprise on your face as you turn to him and he continues, his voice raw and vulnerable as he continues, "i want to say sorry for taking and not even listening to the most important side of the story, you. so please, and spare no details, tell me what happened today."

you pause for a second as if to consider his words and examine his sincerity, and then you nod and he can feel a sigh of relief leave him. as you relay to him the true details of your day, you notice how his expression becomes more and more apologetic as the facts of the story finally come to light.

he leans against your shoulders and envelops you in his arms. you reciprocate his touch, snaking your own arms around his waist and he sinks his head into the crook of your neck.

"i can't stress how sorry i am." his voice is muffled against your collarbone as you rest your chin upon his head. his hand finds yours and squeezes your hand reassuringly.

"you know you have a lot to make up for right?" he looks up at you, violet eyes gazing into your own, and hums in agreement as he places a soft kiss against your hand.

"anything for you, angel."

nanami kento was a man who believed that it was his duty to silently bear all of the things that came his way, no matter the cost, and this made him someone that many people could always rely on which has earned him a similar reputation in many facets of his life. unfortunately, this benefit did not extend to his relationship.

you knew all this when you got into a relationship with him including his workaholic tendencies and so you were never too disappointed when a dinner for two would turn into a dinner for one.

even if they became more frequent, you would always be able to go to sleep with the knowledge that you would wake up next to a head of blonde hair and a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist as the steady beat of your two hearts in sync filled the relative silence of your shared bedroom.

until, one day, you began to wake up cold and alone, lost within the expanses of the sheets without his arms there to tether you to a world with him by your side. the only shreds of evidence that he was actually there and not just a figment of your touch-starved imagination was the slight indent of the mattress left in his wake and a messily scribbled note which read 'woke up early for work, breakfast is in the fridge.' which felt just as cold and devoid of affection as the room you currently were in.

phone calls became less frequent as well and seeing kento in the flesh was more like trying to find a four-leafed clover in a field full of clovers. explanations were short and choppy and to you, they felt like simply a courtesy on his part rather than genuine truths.

with his presence fading even more and more from the apartment and your life, you couldn't help but start to wonder if there was more behind these excuses and perhaps, he had decided to move on from you and onto someone else. these worries even followed you from your waking hours into your dreams and so you made your mind up to stay up and wait for his return to finally confront him about his behaviour.

now sitting there at your kitchen table, fingers absent-mindedly drumming against the wood surface as you anxiously watch the seconds tick down on the clock and await his arrival. tick tock, tick tock. the sound of the clock echoes off the walls of the apartment.

there's an uncomfortable ball of anxiety gnawing at the insides of your stomach. if the truth didn't kill you, the waiting was definitely going to be the one to put the final nail in your coffin at this point.

much to your relief, or worst fears, there's a jangle of keys coming from outside the door and it soon cracks open to reveal a very tired and worn down kento as he makes his way into the apartment and begins to unload his belongings in the entryway. he's halfway through with removing his suit jacket when he finally notices you sitting there, stone-faced aside from your lips which you nervously bite at, and a worried sigh escapes him.

he makes his way towards you and takes a seat opposite from you. under the fluorescent lights of the kitchen, you're able to get a much better look at him and while his hair is perfectly styled back as usual, there's an air of exhaustion radiating from him as you take note of the darkness of his eyebags and the seemingly permanent grimace that he sports, a far cry from the looks of domestic bliss that you would always be greeted with previously.

"what are you doing up so late, my love? you should be asleep by now or else you'll be tired tomorrow for work." his voice is full of concern for your well-being when it should be the least of his worries at this point with how burnt out he was. you're pretty sure that his cheekbones are more pronounced from the lack of full meals rather than simply his genetics.

a pang of guilt hits you in your gut, of course, he's still so fixated on you taking care of yourself when he clearly is the one who needs the advice even more, but you know that this needs to come out sooner or later. you steel yourself with a shaky breath.

"where have you been?" you ask, uncharacteristically cold. he can tell that there's something off with you but he chooses not to comment or push on it.

"i've been at work, trying to finish something for the higher-ups before tomorrow." his tone is straightforward and blunt and you can't tell if he's giving you a rehearsed answer or a truthful one.

you look down at your hands. "is that really all it is?"

"what do you mean?" his eyebrows furrow in confusion. you're not sure if this is genuine confusion or if he's just playing you for a fool.

you sigh, exhausted. you can feel the corners of your eyes start to burn with tears but you attempt to blink them away to the best of your ability. "i can't take these late nights and weak excuses anymore, kento. if there's someone else, i would rather you just say it."

he doesn't say anything and you grit your teeth as you solemnly accept that as his answer. you quickly stand up from your seat but before you can go anywhere, you're stopped in your tracks by the feeling of his calloused hands on your forearm.

"wait, please, dear-" he pleads softly.

"i'm done, kento." you cut him off before he can say anything else but he strides over to you and places a hand on your shoulder.

"love, please." he implores, his brown eyes full of sincerity as he tries his best to convince you to hear him out. "please, stay and let me explain, just for a minute and that's all." you don't pull away from his touch and he offers you a grateful smile.

"the late nights and overtime are to save some time off for a vacation. a vacation with you." before you could even open your mouth to speak, he silently stops you with a gentle caress to the cheek and manages to render you both speechless and breathless in a single move. "i know you're worried about me overworking myself so i wanted to surprise you and finally make my promises to you come true."

you're instantly hit with a sense of regret as you realise that your overthinking and fear might have cost you something so precious and at the thought of potentially having lost him, you can't help but throw yourself into his open embrace and bury your face into the rumpled fabric of his button up.

a soothing hand finds its way to your back as he attempts to comfort you. he's so good to you and sometimes you wonder if you really deserve it. "i'm sorry, ken. i shouldn't be jumping to conclusions and accusing you of such things." you confess, your voice slightly muffled against his chest. "you've been nothing but kind and loving to me and all i can say is that i'm sorry."

"it's alright, my dear. i should be sorry as well. i shouldn't have been so guarded when you're asking even if it's for a surprise." he adds himself and then there's the fleeting warmth of his lips against your forehead before his arms tighten their grip around you as if to reassure you that he wasn't going anywhere.

"so you're not mad at me, kento?" you ask gingerly, glancing at his face to find a fond expression looking back down at you, not a single bit of anger or annoyance to be detected on any of his features.

"you, dear? i could never be angry at you."