#we've been through the angst and the heartbreak

[ninoochat]

What's that about anyway? It's a long story. Ends in all-you-can-eat tamales. Come here.

[edenesth]

Scarlet Requiem

Pairing: emperor!Baekhyun x empress!reader

AU: historical au (Goryeo era)

Word Count: 4k

Summary: In his reign, Baekhyun strived to be a virtuous emperor, all for the sake of his kind-hearted empress, steadfastly resisting the temptations of power that had corrupted those before him. He held onto the belief that this was the key to securing her eternal presence by his side. Yet, he learned, to his heartbreak, that this very resolve would lead to the cruellest loss of all.

Genre: heavy angst

Trigger Warnings: major character death, violence, gore, lots of blood

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Capture that demon before she flees!"

Her hands trembled as she gazed at her reflection in the ornate gold mirror. Once healthy skin now bore a sickly pallor, brown eyes turned crimson, tears staining her cheeks red. Even her jet-black hair had transformed to snowy white. Confusion and fear gripped her as she struggled to comprehend the inexplicable transformation.

As guards roughly seized her arms, she pleaded, "No, please! I've done nothing wrong! I don't understand any of this!"

"Of course, you'd deny it, Your Imperial Majesty," sneered the Minister of Rites, one of many who had urged her husband, the emperor, to accept their daughters as concubines. "Little did you know, those potions you received from the royal healer for the past month were meant to reveal your true nature by shedding your human guise."

Horror pierced her heart as realisation dawned. The tonics meant to maintain her health had been a ruse. She had been poisoned, it explained the sudden and alarming changes in her body and health.

"You," she whispered, the weight of the truth settling heavily upon her. "It was all you."

She was not naive; she understood the ministers' discontent with her influence over Baekhyun throughout his reign. Their persistent attempts to sway him, offering their daughters as concubines to bolster their own power and threaten her position, had not escaped her notice. Their frustration must have reached its zenith when her husband adamantly refused their advances, steadfast in his commitment to her as his one and only empress.

"Hm? I'm not sure I understand what you're implying," the man smirked, his deceptive tone belying his words. "We've long suspected there was more to you, Your Imperial Majesty. It appears you're indeed a demon, effortlessly manipulating the emperor. Surely a man of his stature would desire more than one woman by his side?"

Struggling against the guards' grasp, she retorted weakly, "You vile cowards. You'll rue the day my husband learns of this..."

The pieces of the puzzle fell into place, revealing their sinister plot. They had bided their time, seizing the perfect opportunity amidst the chaos of war. With Baekhyun, the virtuous emperor she had wished him to be, leading the army, they saw their chance to poison her, framing her as a demon to eradicate her while he was away.

"Or perhaps we'll witness the rise of the ambitious emperor we've long awaited. He will finally be able to reach his full potential without you here obstructing his path," he sneered, gesturing towards the approaching healer with another bowl of poison. "Just comply and drink your tonic, Your Imperial Majesty. Your suffering will soon end, and our nation will thrive under the rule of a new emperor, liberated from your naive ideals."

As the sinister men tightened their grip, she sobbed in agony, the relentless headache from the past month resurfacing with a vengeance. Each touch felt like a dagger through her skull, each word a cruel reminder of her plight.

With an apologetic bow of his head, the healer cupped her jaw, his hands trembling as he forced the bowl of poison towards her lips. "Forgive me, Your Imperial Majesty," he whispered, his voice trembling with remorse. "This will be the last one, I promise."

She gagged as the bitter liquid slid down her throat, burning with each swallow. Crimson tears streamed down her white face as she choked on the vile concoction, feeling her strength wane with each passing moment. In that desperate moment, all she could do was pray for salvation from the nightmare consuming her.

As the healer finally released his hold, she felt despair engulf her. The bitter poison settled within her damaged insides, coursing through her veins like a silent killer, slowly consuming her from within.

"It is done, my lord. The empress will not survive through the night," the healer declared, his voice carrying a finality that chilled her to the bone.

The minister's grin widened with satisfaction. "Excellent. Arrange for someone to confirm her death by dawn. Let her enjoy her final moments in the comforts of her own chambers. His Imperial Majesty will surely be grateful we've rid him of his treacherous demon of a wife upon his return from war."

Laying limply in the centre of her grand chambers, the very space she had once despised before ascending to empress, memories flooded her mind. She recalled the scepticism that clouded her heart when she first found herself falling for the crown prince of the nation. After all, history had taught her that no happy endings awaited the women who loved emperors. But Baekhyun was different—he was loving, caring, and considerate, going to great lengths to prove his devotion to her.

He swore never to take concubines, to resist the allure of power, and to remain hers, and hers alone. Despite the admiration of the entire nation, he remained committed to prioritising her above all else, even if it meant drawing the ire of his ministers and officials. Their accusations of his partiality towards his empress over his nation only served to strengthen his resolve, his unwavering loyalty to her.

But now, as she lay weakened by poison, she realised the tragic irony of his goodness. It was his very commitment to righteousness that led him to the battlefield, refusing to let his men fight in his stead. And it was this decision that ultimately sealed their fate, leaving her to face the consequences of his noble intentions.

As the darkness closed in around her, she couldn't help but wonder how Baekhyun would react upon returning to find her lifeless form in this state. Would he succumb to the poisonous words of his ministers, believing their accusations that she had been a demon all along? Would he entertain the notion that she had bewitched him, clouding his judgement and leading him astray?

Or would he remain firm in his loyalty, unwavering in his belief that this was nothing more than a cruel ploy to rid him of her for good? In the depths of her fading consciousness, she desperately clung to the hope that he would see through the lies, that his love for her would prevail over doubt.

On the brink of death, she yearned to trust in his endless devotion to her, to believe that he would never doubt the love they shared. It was a fragile hope, but in that moment, it was all she had to cling to as she slipped further into the darkness, awaiting the inevitable arrival of dawn and the fate it would eventually bring.

"Forgive me for not being strong enough, Baek," she whispered into the stillness of the chamber, her voice barely a breath against the heavy silence. "Please don't blame yourself for any of this."

As the darkness threatened to swallow her entirely, she couldn't help but reflect on the warnings of history, the cautionary tales of women who loved emperors, only to meet tragic ends. Once again, it seemed, she had fallen victim to the same fate.

Her vision blurred with crimson tears as memories flooded her mind—moments shared with Baekhyun before he departed for battle, blissfully unaware that they would be their last. Each memory stung with bittersweet intensity, a painful reminder of what could have been, had fate been kinder.

As her life ebbed away, flashes of cherished moments with him flickered through her mind like scattered stars in the night sky.

Wrapped in the warmth of silk sheets, doubts clouded her mind one morning, questioning her husband's resolve to remain faithful amidst the pressures of his position.

"Would you truly refuse to take any concubines, Baek?" she inquired, her voice laced with uncertainty. "You're aware that the ministers and officials desire it, and perhaps even the citizens of our nation. For all we know, the people might have grown weary of this same dull empress who has yet to bear you an heir."

He drew her close, pulling the silk sheets higher to shield her bare form from the chill seeping through the open windows. Pressing a tender kiss upon her head, he smiled reassuringly. "Never, my love. I do not care for their political machinations. I won't forsake my vow to you. You will remain my only wife, that is final. I did not ask to be emperor, the role was thrust upon me. Now that I am here, they should at least be grateful I am fulfilling my general duties."

She chuckled, nestling into the crook of his neck as he added, "Besides, if the ministers and officials are so displeased, they could just dismiss me. That would be even better; we could live in a quiet little village, just as we've always dreamed."

In another memory, standing before her reflection, plagued by insecurities instilled by the scheming ministers, his unwavering admiration melted her fears away.

"You look beautiful, my empress. You always do," he reassured, approaching from behind to envelop her in his arms.

"Not as beautiful as those young maidens, I fear. I am old," she confessed, feeling a twinge of self-consciousness after witnessing the ministers' attempts to seduce the emperor with their daughters.

Baekhyun gently turned her to face him. "If you're old, then I must be ancient," he teased. "I believe it's only fitting that I am with someone my age, and that's you, my empress. I have no interest in marrying children or anyone else for that matter; I am a taken man. Don't you dare compare yourself to anyone else again, you hear me? You're the most beautiful woman in my eyes, and that's all that matters."

In the final embrace before he departed for war, hearts heavy with the uncertainty of his return, they clung to each other.

"I will be back before you know it, my love. You'll wait for me, won't you?" her husband murmured against her neck, his arms tightening around her.

"Where else would I go, you idiot? Of course, I'll be waiting right here," she retorted, tightening her hold around his shoulders.

Amidst tears and laughter, he leaned in to kiss her deeply, pressing his lips against her soft ones over and over again to imprint the sensation into memory.

"I love you, my empress," Baekhyun whispered against her lips before pulling away, his eyes full of love and determination.

In the quiet of her chamber, she found solace in the fleeting recollections, clinging to them as the darkness threatened to consume her entirely. And as the crimson tears clouded her eyes once more, she resigned herself to the inevitable, silently bidding farewell to the life she once knew.

"I love you too, my emperor."

"I will not ask again, where is she?!" the emperor's voice thundered through the throne room as he stormed back into the palace, abandoning the battle upon learning the shocking revelation. According to the Minister of Rites in his letter, the empress had been discovered to be a demon all along, concealing her true nature under human skin to manipulate him and bend him to her will.

The eunuch panicked and fell to his knees. "Th-the empress is confined to her grand chambers, Your Imperial Majesty!"

Without uttering another word, Baekhyun stormed over immediately, his heart thumping loudly against his chest as fury overtook his being. Betrayal flooded his veins; he was seething with anger.

"You will regret lying to me," he growled under his breath, his vision zeroing in on the path towards her chambers, the place he frequented more than his own. "You will regret deceiving me."

Upon reaching the entrance of her chambers, he turned to the eunuch. "Gather all the ministers and officials who played a part in discovering the empress as what they claimed her to be in the throne room. I wish to speak with them soon."

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty," the eunuch hurriedly replied before darting off to carry out his orders. Baekhyun steadied his breaths, his hand resting on the door as he prepared to face her once more. Under his breath, he vowed, "I swear, you will all regret it. How dare you accuse my wife of being what you are—demons."

I'm here now, my love.

Stepping into the familiar room, the emperor's heart raced with anxiety as he mulled over a perfect apology. He needed to express his deep remorse for not being there when she needed him the most, for failing to shield her from the treachery of those vultures. Reflecting on his actions, he realised he should have never left her behind. In his rush to leave for war, he had neglected to arrange proper protection for her. In hindsight, he understood that he should have never left her side in the first place.

Determined to make amends, he vowed to do better. He resolved to never again allow those ministers or officials the opportunity to torment her in his absence again. From now on, he would be her shield, her staunch protector, and her unending support.

But it might be too late for any of that.

His steps faltered, his breath caught in his chest, and his heart skipped a beat as he beheld the sight before his eyes. The sword in his hands slipped, clanging loudly as it hit the ground, and he sank to his knees in disbelief at the last thing he expected to see.

His shock deepened as he took in his wife's unrecognisable appearance. Crawling towards her limp form on the ground, he pulled her into his arms, his voice trembling with anguish. The horror settled within him like a heavy weight as he tried to imagine what atrocities these monsters had dared inflict upon her while he was gone. His mind raced with images of torture and torment, each one more gruesome than the last.

"Oh god, what have they done to you?" he whispered, his heart fracturing into a million shards as he struggled to comprehend her pale skin, her white hair, and the blood-like tears staining her cheeks. With shaking hands, he gently cupped her cold cheek, his fingers tracing the contours of her face as if seeking reassurance that she was still there, still his beloved wife.

"Please wake up, my love. This isn't funny, stop scaring me," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "You promised to wait for me. You promised..." His words trailed off into a broken sob as he refused to accept anything but the truth, shaking his head in denial even as he searched desperately for a pulse, even when she remained unresponsive.

"No, no, no... this can't be real. It can't be," he murmured, his mind reeling with the unimaginable horror of what he had found.

Despair and regret enveloped him as he sobbed painfully, holding her lifeless body tightly against his chest. The realisation that she was truly gone, that her final moments were spent alone in the very room she despised just to be with him, weighed heavily on his heart. He grappled with the bitter truth that he had failed her, just as she had feared when she hesitated to be with him.

Gradually, his sorrow gave way to seething rage as he recalled the faces of the ministers and officials responsible for this atrocity. They had callously taken her life, foolishly believing he would be deceived by their feeble attempt to frame her. With trembling hands, he picked up a shard of the shattered bowl nearby and brought it to his nose, recognising the metallic scent of mercury.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place.

They had poisoned her with lethal doses of mercury, causing a myriad of symptoms—tremors, headaches, muscle weakness, kidney damage, and breathing difficulties. And the deliberate administration of such high doses to turn her hair white revealed their sinister intent from the outset.

Just how much had they fed her? It was evident they had intended to kill her from the start. Anguish and fury surged within him as he vowed to make them pay.

Gently caressing her cold cheek, he leaned in to kiss her unmoving lips, his own trembling against hers. He blamed himself for everything that had transpired. Perhaps if she hadn't been with him, she would have lived a better life—a normal life with a normal man. She wouldn't have to endure such a painful and cruel death.

It was all because of him.

Regret hung heavy in his heart, but dwelling on what could have been served no purpose.

"I'm so sorry, my wife," he whispered, his voice thick with grief. "Just hold on a bit longer, alright? I'll join you soon, but first, I'll make those bastards pay. Wait for me—I won't let you face this alone. Not again."

With resolve hardening in his heart, he retrieved his sword and sheathed it once more before lifting her lifeless form into his arms. Like a man burdened by death itself, he trudged towards the throne room where justice awaited. Kicking the doors open with a forceful thrust of his leg, he was met with a sea of horrified expressions from the ministers and officials. Clearly, they hadn't anticipated the emperor's dramatic entrance, cradling his beloved empress in his arms.

Ignoring their shocked gazes, he strode past them, his eyes fixed on the throne at the far end of the room. With careful tenderness, he laid his wife down upon the ornate seat, arranging her robes and ensuring her comfort as though she were merely sleeping. Pressing a solemn kiss upon her cold forehead, he turned to face the assembled council, their unease palpable in the air.

The guilty culprits remained frozen in their places, uncertain of what awaited them.

As the emperor's gaze swept over them, the ministers and officials for the first time felt a cold shiver of fear trickle down their spines. His expression was unreadable, his appearance wild and dishevelled compared to his usual polished demeanour. Specks of blood and dirt stained his robes and skin, his hair a tangled mess, half tied up in a disarray that mirrored the chaos within him.

Gone was the warm smile that often graced his features; instead, a slow, unsettling grin crept across his face.

"My dearest ministers and officials," he began, his voice low and laced with an eerie calmness. "Your message has been received loud and clear. I hope you're satisfied now that you've succeeded in eradicating the empress, as you so desperately desired. I've given it some thought, and perhaps... you were all right."

The Minister of Rites, attempting to feign nonchalance, cleared his throat. "A-about what, Your Imperial Majesty?" he stammered.

Baekhyun's eyes gleamed with a frightening intensity as he smirked, his demeanour bordering on madness. "About what this nation truly needs," he replied, his voice carrying a chilling edge.

"Not a good emperor, but a mad one."

Without giving the men before him time to register his words, all Baekhyun saw was red. In a split second, he unsheathed his sword and transformed into a bloodthirsty animal, cutting down anyone and everyone in his path. The Minister of Rites tried to flee but to no avail. He watched in complete horror as his colleagues dropped dead one by one, their blood splattering over the grand walls of the throne room, their screams echoing.

The emperor went on a rampage, leaving no man behind. The Minister of Rites, who had been behind the idea of poisoning the empress, smearing her name by labelling her a demon, and executing her, was now filled with regret. They had turned him into the mad king his empress had feared. Perhaps they had finally achieved their goal, but it wasn't what they were prepared for.

The minister collapsed to his knees before the emperor, realising that His Imperial Majesty had saved him for last. Trembling, he rubbed his hands together in a desperate plea. "P-please, everything I've done, it's for the betterment of our nation."

Baekhyun's humourless laughter echoed through the hall, sending shivers down the minister's spine. "You truly believe that, don't you? Of course, that includes subjecting my wife to all that torment. Yes, because that is exactly what the nation needs. Unfortunately for you, I am the emperor, and I determine what's best for the nation. And in this case, I think it's better off without traitors like you. See you on the other side," were the last words the minister heard before his head was severed from his neck, rolling off to join the others on the floor.

The emperor finally turned back, his eyes softening as they landed on his beloved's lifeless body. Making his way back towards her, he knelt down beside her, tears streaming down his face as he reached for her hand. Holding it to his cheek, he missed the warmth it once had.

"I'm coming now, my love," he whispered brokenly. "I'm sorry you had to wait for so long. I'll be there with you soon."

"Yes, I understand His Imperial Majesty's orders not to enter, but it's been hours. Surely, any assembly would have concluded by now, wouldn't it?" With apprehension and curiosity, a senior court lady pushed open the doors to the once-bustling throne room, expecting to find His Imperial Majesty and his council of ministers. Instead, she was met with a horrifying sight—a scene of bloodshed and chaos spread across the grand hall.

Her piercing scream echoed through the silent room, jolting nearby palace staff into action. Rushing to the scene, they were met with a scene that chilled them to the bone. At the end of the room, amidst a sea of lifeless bodies, lay the empress on the throne, her appearance shocking all who beheld it. Beside her, her husband remained, his head cradled on her chest, their hands tightly clasped together. A gaping stab wound marred his chest—it seemed he had taken his own life before joining her in death.

Following that, the next prince in line promptly ascended the throne and found himself compelled to appoint an entirely new cabinet of ministers and officials. The entire nation descended into chaos, particularly since it was still embroiled in a war, with endless theories circulating about the events. While some speculated that the emperor succumbed to madness and killed his own council, others whispered of a conspiracy, suggesting that the ministers had orchestrated the demise of both the empress and the emperor.

Amidst this uncertainty, the new prince faced the daunting challenge of restoring order to the kingdom. With a heavy heart, he pledged to uncover the truth behind the tragic occurrences and ensure that justice was served to those responsible.

In the end, the truth of what truly occurred remained shrouded in mystery. All those involved had departed from the realm of the living. As centuries passed, that chapter in history became known as the Scarlet Requiem, a haunting tale that lingered in the collective memory of the kingdom. Despite countless efforts to unravel the enigma, the events surrounding the tragedy remained obscured by the sands of time, leaving future generations to ponder and speculate about the dark secrets of the past.

"What do you think really happened?" a woman asked her boyfriend as they studied a painting depicting the throne room scene in a museum dedicated to the events of the Scarlet Requiem.

He pondered for a moment before responding with a shrug. "It's hard to say. But judging by the way he's holding onto her, it seems he must have truly loved her. Let's hope they've found peace and happiness, whether in the afterlife or their next life."

She nodded in agreement, leaning into his comforting embrace. "Yeah, I hope so too."

He flashed a mischievous grin. "I'm just saying, if I were him, I wouldn't have left her for war in the first place."

She rolled her eyes and gave him a playful smack, though a smile danced on her lips. "I'm sure you wouldn't. I bet it's because the empress was described as beautiful as a celestial being."

He scoffed. "Doesn't matter to me how pretty she was. I'll stay only if you're my empress."

Unbeknownst to them, the couple had been contemplating their own past lives. Perhaps the emperor and empress had indeed found each other again in another existence.

Believe it or not, this has been on my mind for months ever since seeing those AI-generated photos of Baekhyun. I had an epiphany while looking at them again yesterday and just had to write this. It's my first EXO fic, and I hope it's decent hehe~

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Master Tag list:

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @green-agent @vantediary @tinyteezer |

@hollxe1 @pandabur666 @lilactangerine @oddracha @evidive

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[planchettewrites]

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)/AFAB!Reader

DESCRIPTION: You find out about Bella Donna Boudreaux, and you are not happy about it.

CONTENT: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Threats of Breakup, Mentions Remy's Past (*Using the Original X-Men Animation Series as Ref.)

A/N: This is not my favorite Remy work I've done, but I think it's still pretty good. This is pretty heavy hurt/comfort, and the ending is a little rushed. TBH I wanted to just write this and get it over with. WIPs can only have such a long shelf life! I may eventually update this later.

848 words | Safe!

"Remy…" You walked cautiously into your and Remy's shared bedroom in his apartment near the school, anger bubbling inside you. In your hand, you held a letter from some woman named Bella Donna Boudreaux. The letter was old, at least five years old. You found it while cleaning out one of Remy's closets, finding it in a box on the top shelf when it came tumbling out of the closet. "What is this?"

Remy, who was reading, immediately shot up. His black and red eyes looked at you with so much shock. He looked like a man who got caught. “Ma chérie,” he started.

"What is this, Remy?" you shot, effectively cutting him off. "Who the fuck is Bella Donna Boudreaux?"

"Chérie, it's not what you think." Remy stood up from the bed and began slowly approaching you. 

You weren't stupid; you could read what the letter said, and that letter painted a rather different story than your current reality. "I think it's exactly what I think, Remy. What the hell does 'I'll forever be your wife' mean, then? Remy, we've been dating for three years, and this letter is five years old. Are you married?" you roared, your anger almost unmanageable. 

Your mind was racing with every possible answer that Remy could've given you, and none of them were positive explanations. Your relationship with Remy was the best you ever had; he was kind, generous, and giving, and overall, he was a spectacular partner who always put your needs first. You loved Remy more than you could fathom; this letter was heartbreaking.

Before he could answer, you began to read some of the letter to him. "Remy, mon amour, I miss you every day. Every day you are gone is like a stab in the heart. I still remember the day I last saw you; you looked handsome as ever, mon cœur." you stopped reading the letter and threw it on the bed. "What the fuck is this?"

"Darlin', that's all old history, Bella Donna is…"

"Your wife, apparently, Remy." you began to tear up. Nothing shattered your heart like reading that letter did. You had read through the entire thing before you confronted your boyfriend, and you knew a love letter when you read one. You started shaking your head, putting your palm up to your forehead. "I can't fucking believe this."

Without even noticing, he got closer, Remy turned you around and gently pulled your hand from your head. His face portrayed an emotion of hurt. As much as you wanted to scream at him, tear him apart, something in you knew that he had some proper explaining to do. "Darlin', listen to me. Please."

You sighed roughly, continuing to shake your head. "Fine. You better have a great explanation for this, Remy. Or I'm done."

He sighs. Remy knew this day would come eventually—whether it be when filing for marriage paperwork or when his past eventually bubbled up to the surface. If he was honest with himself, he completely forgot about that letter; it was shoved in that box with the rest of his past in the Thieves's Guild. Looking at you, his heart was breaking. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt you. 

"Well, darlin', it starts back in New Orleans. The long and the short of it is that Bella Donna Boudreaux was a member of the Assassin's Guild, and I was a member of the Thieves's Guild. We were arranged to be married in an attempt to unite the guilds. Gambit didn't love her, so he walked away from the altar. Bella Donna wrote me that letter as a last-ditch effort to get me back. I don't know how she even found my address, but she sent it. I forgot that I even kept it. I promise I didn't marry her, mon amour. I don't love her. My heart does not belong to another; it only belongs to you." He held you steady in front of him, and he watched how the tears forming in your eyes began to roll down your cheeks. 

Remy pulled you into a tight hug as you cried. "Shh, don't cry, chérie, Gambit's right here."

"Don't ever fucking scare me like that." you cried. Right now, you hated yourself. There was no way you could deny what you read, but you trusted your boyfriend with every word he said. Remy wasn't one to tell you a lie. Ever since you began dating, he has been nothing but honest and upfront with all that he said. "M’sorry, Remy. I'm really sorry."

Gently letting go of you, Remy cupped your cheeks and placed a kiss on your forehead. "No reason to apologize, mon amour. You were scared, and that situation seemed nasty. I understand."

"I was just so worried that you were keeping something from me, especially something that would change our relationship."

"I know, chérie, I know." He cooed, pulling you back into the hug. 

You sighed, letting the anxiety go. “Please forgive me.”

He smiled. “Gambit forgives ya’, chérie. Of course I do.”

[03jyh23]

— 2 soon || kim hongjoong part 1

<part 2>

goes to waste the series based on my favourite keshi songs

(listen here)

idol!hongjoong x non-idol!reader

synopsis: years after choosing his career over you, hongjoong still finds himself haunted by the memories of you. your relationship is a constant dance of on and off, and you cannot stay away from him.

genre: lovers to strangers to ?, angst, smut

trigger warnings: cussing/mature language, break-ups, toxic relationships, possessiveness, toxic jealousy, sex as a coping mechanism, excessive alcohol usage, emotional manipulation, obsession, verbal aggression, emotional distress, mentions of clubbing, career-related stress, explicit sexual content: making out, protected sex (condom), mentions of using birth control, pet names baby, princess, handjob, blowjob, hair pulling, neck kisses, dirty talk, nipple play (?), missionary

words: 12.8 k

reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! after several intense days of work, it's finally here! the first part of the goes to waste series! while writing 2 soon, i had many negative thoughts and was very self-critical. im still not sure if i did a good job - especially when it comes to smut. smut is the genre where i probably will never feel good enough, but believe me, im really trying. the second part is already in the process of being written. im handing this over to you; thank you very much for such a warm reception of this series, and i hope you'll enjoy it. and please let me know if i missed any trigger warnings for the sexual content!

love, monika. ♡

if you enjoyed this post, i’d be so grateful for a little love – a like, reblog or comment would truly make my day!

taglist: @skittyneos @kyeos4ng @vcutparis

one

There you were, unexpectedly positioned in a scenario you never once imagined you would find yourself in. It was the middle of the night, the hour when all was quiet and still. Your ordinarily vibrant living room was dimmed, with only a single floor lamp in the corner casting long, dramatic shadows across the room. You were nestled into the corner of the worn-out comfortable sofa, hugging a pillow close as if it were your only lifeline. The only sounds filling the silence were the words from your boyfriend, each one hanging heavy in the cold air. You were painfully aware of what was coming, a gut-wrenching feeling of imminent heartbreak washing over you. The reality of the situation was that there was no escaping this conversation, no possibility of emerging unscathed. The knowledge that Hongjoong was about to shatter your heart into pieces was a bitter pill to swallow. This moment was the beginning of an end you had never anticipated. And it was happening tonight.

"The company believes that you will become a distraction," Hongjoong said, his voice laced with an undercurrent of tension.

"I don't give a damn about your stupid company," you retorted, your hand trembling and your eyes welling up with tears that threatened to spill over at any moment. "I wasn't a distraction all these years when you were a trainee, so why am I suddenly one now?" Hongjoong paced nervously across the room, his movements betraying his inner turmoil. He was torn between the company and you, and he didn't know how to navigate this minefield.

"Y/N..." he sighed heavily, his hand running through his hair in a nervous gesture. "Now that Ateez is gaining more attention after our first prize win and the new album coming soon, the company..." he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. "They believe I need to remain more focused."

"I don't fucking care about what they think, Hongjoong!" you shouted, your voice cracking with the weight of your emotions. "You think I give a damn about their opinion?" you continued, your voice rising with each word. "They don't know us, they don't know what we've been through. All they see is some stupid company policy, but they don't see the love that we share." Tears welled up in your eyes as you spoke, the pain of the situation threatening to consume you whole. You had never felt so helpless, so powerless.

"Please, try to calm down. You're not making this any easier," Hongjoong pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

''I don’t fucking believe that after almost three years they decided I will become a problem...'' Your voice cracked, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. Hongjoong looked at you, his eyes filled with sorrow and regret. It was clear that this conversation was tearing him apart just as much as it was you. "Hongjoong, do you believe what they're saying?" you asked, your voice filled with a mixture of fear and desperation. "Do you think they're right?"

He paused, his back still turned towards you. "I... I don't know, Y/N," he confessed, his voice barely audible. "What if they are right?" The question hung in the air, a haunting doubt that only added to the heartache. Your heart pounded in your chest, the words echoing in your mind.

"You already believed them…'' you asserted, your voice tinged with a hint of defiance. ''I can't believe that you see me as a distraction now." With a frustrated cry, you grabbed the pillow and hurled it across the room, the action serving as a physical release for the pent-up anger and despair that threatened to consume you. "Fuck it, Hongjoong," you choked out, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I need you to choose me. I need you to fight for us, for our love. Because if you don't, then what's the point of any of this?"

There was a long silence before he finally spoke. "I...I need to do what's best for my career," he answered softly, sounding utterly defeated. "And if that means that we..." his voice trailed off and he didn't finish the sentence. You felt a lump in your throat and fought back the tears.

''So, you’re going to leave me?'' Hongjoong turned to face you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and resignation.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Hongjoong's eyes flickered with pain as he met your gaze, his own turmoil reflected in the depths of his gaze. "I can't lose my career, Y/N! It's everything I've worked for.'' His words cut through you like a knife, searing through your heart. You had always known that his career was important to him, but you had never imagined that he would be willing to sacrifice your relationship for it. ''I’m sorry, Y/N,'' he managed to say, his voice filled with regret. ''I have to do this.''

"Just say it already..." Your voice was shaky, the tension in the room was palpable, and the silence that followed was deafening.

"I want to break up," Hongjoong finally said, his voice barely audible but clear enough for you to hear.

Your voice broke as you responded, "If this is your decision, then I'm not going to fight it. I won't beg you to stay, Hongjoong." The room was filled with a painful silence after your words. The reality of what was happening hit you both, but you stood your ground. "No, I won't beg," you affirmed, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. "If this is what you've chosen, then I have no right to stop you. But remember this, Hongjoong, love is not a distraction. It's what keeps us human." He looked at you, his eyes welling up with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered, the regret in his voice tangible.

"I need you to leave," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The room fell silent again. With a heavy sigh, Hongjoong cast a long, lingering glance in your direction, his eyes filled with a sadness he had never felt before. You couldn't meet his gaze, your own eyes fixated on the worn-out fabric of the couch, your hands clenched tightly in your lap.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he repeated, his voice just as quiet as yours. He hovered for a moment, as if waiting for you to say something else, offering him a way out of this situation. But there was nothing more to be said. The decision had been made.

"I'm sorry too, Hongjoong," you whispered into the silence, your voice trembling. The words echoed in the quiet room, a bitter acknowledgment of the pain that both of you were feeling. Slowly, Hongjoong headed towards the door, his steps heavy and uncertain. Each footstep felt like a punch to your heart, amplifying the emptiness that was beginning to set in. As the front door opened, a shiver went down your spine. With one last look, Hongjoong closed the door behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet apartment. The silence was deafening, the absence of his presence felt like a void. You sat there, motionless, the harsh reality of what had just happened slowly sinking in. Eventually, you rose from the couch, your legs feeling like jelly. You switched off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. You could still feel the remnants of Hongjoong's presence, the memories of your time together felt almost tangible. But, he was gone. And you were left to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart, alone. Your small apartment never felt lonelier.

two

The room was dimly lit by a single lamp, casting shadows everywhere. Hongjoong sat on the hotel floor, his heart ached like a heavy stone in his chest, echoing the raw, jagged pain of an all-too-fresh wound. Next to him sat a half-empty bottle of whiskey, its strong liquor failing to dull the hollow gnawing pain that gripped him. For the past few months, Hongjoong had been busier than he'd ever been. Recording sessions that kept him up all night, followed by grueling dance practices to perfect choreography. Once ATEEZ’s first studio album was finally out, there was an endless string of fan sign events and meetings. Then, his dreams came true — they announced a world tour. Hongjoong was so busy that eating and sleeping felt like a luxury. He was happy, but not completely. Something was always missing. You were missing. Hongjoong'd become a master at hiding his pain from the world. So good, in fact, that he'd even managed to hide it from himself. But even as busy as Hongjoong was with his career, there were moments when he couldn't help but constantly think about you. And in those small moments every song that he wrote, every dance he choreographed, every performance he gave, you were always on his mind. Hongjoong was haunted by your memories, by the love he had lost. And even if he was being so good at hiding his emotions, his bandmates could see the change in him. They saw the sadness in his eyes, the heaviness in his steps, the emptiness in his laughter. But they said nothing, respecting his silence, knowing that this was a battle he had to fight on his own. Now, it’s been over six months since he broke up with you. Since he had chosen his career over your love, ambition over affection. He believed it was the right decision, but it did not lessen the pain of his heartbreak.

Hongjoong's eyes fell on his phone, lying innocently on the carpet. He had been contemplating it for hours, his heart pounding with apprehension. He longed to reach out to you, to hear your voice again and beg for forgiveness. Everything seemed so pointless without you. His dreams and ambitions felt hollow and meaningless. The fame, the success, the love from fans all over the world — none of it mattered. Because without you by his side, sharing in his joy and success, it all felt empty. All he could think of was the sweet sound of your laughter, the warmth of your touch, the comfort of your presence. And the longer he was without you, the more he realized how much he had lost. Taking a shaky breath, Hongjoong gathered the courage to pick the phone up, dialed your number with unsteady fingers, and pressed the call button. Eight rings echoed in his ears, each one a chance to hang up, to retreat, to save himself from the impending heartache. But he didn't. He couldn't.

"Hello?"

"H-hey," His voice wavered, barely more than a whisper, "How... how you been? How you doing?" His heart pounded against his ribs. The room felt smaller with every passing second as if the walls were closing in on him. Hongjoong gripped the phone tighter, his knuckles turning white as if holding onto it was the only thing keeping him grounded at that moment.

"I've been... okay," your voice was guarded, a stark contrast to the warmth it used to hold when you spoke to him. "Just... keeping busy, you know." Your heart was pounding loudly, so loud you were scared Hongjoong was going to hear it on the other side of the phone. You tried to steady your breathing, focusing on each exhale and inhale. There was silence on the other end. You could almost picture Hongjoong there, sitting in the dimly lit room, phone in hand, as he grappled with your words. The silence stretched on and for a moment.

"I've... I've been drinking," he confessed, a bitter laughter escaping his lips. "Thought I'd be over you by now... but I'm not. I can't be." His voice cracked, raw emotion spilling out. There was a pause again, a silence that seemed to last forever.

"Hongjoong..." you murmured, your voice filled with a detached understanding that was almost more painful than the silence before. "You... You shouldn't be drinking, Hongjoong," you said softly, concern seeping into your voice despite your best efforts to keep it neutral.

"I miss you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I... I know I caused you pain. I know I can't turn back time. But I... I can't imagine a life without you." The line went silent once again, except for his ragged breath and the deafening beat of his heart. Hongjoong held his breath, waiting, knowing that your next words could either set him free or push him further into his torment. Despite the distance, despite the coldness in your voice, he thought he detected a hint of lingering affection for him. It was subtle, nearly imperceptible, but it was there. A slight hesitation in your voice before you spoke, a soft sigh he barely caught. It gave him a glimmer of hope, but also a sea of despair. Because he knew that even though you might still harbor feelings for him, his choices had wounded you.

"I miss you too," you said, your voice so quiet that he almost missed the words. And in that moment, he knew that you felt the pain just as sharply as he did. Despite the remnants of love between you, you were both trapped in this cycle of regret and longing, both victims of his ambition. He longed to tell you that he loved you, that he was ready to give up everything to be with you. But the words wouldn't come. Because he knew he couldn't. He couldn't let go of his career, but he couldn't let go of you either. And so, he found himself stuck in this self-destructive cycle, driven by his own choices and his inability to let go of the past. The burden of his decisions hung heavy in the silence. His heart ached with unspoken words and the bitter sting of regret.

"I want to see you..." Hongjoong whispered into the phone, as he took another swig of the whiskey, the bitter liquid burning his throat, a fitting punishment for his mistakes. He closed his eyes, the image of your face clear in his mind, the memory of your laughter echoing in his ears. He missed you. He missed you more than he could put into words, more than he could bear. But all he had were his dreams and ambitions, the things he chose over you. ''I don’t know what I’m expecting'' All Hongjoong knew was that he missed you and that no amount of fame or success could fill the void you left in his heart.

"I... I want to see you too," you responded, soft and hesitant, yet filled with a longing that mirrored his own. Since the day Hongjoong left, your world had changed drastically, nothing felt the same. You tried to move on, to heal and rebuild your life without him. But it seemed like every time you made a little progress, something related to ATEEZ would unexpectedly appear, pulling you back into the memories of him. It was as if the universe was conspiring to ensure Hongjoong remained an inescapable part of your life, refusing to let you forget him.

"I don't know if this is a good idea...but, can we meet?" Hongjoong held his breath, waiting for your response, the silence between you two stretching out into a deafening void.

"Okay," you finally whispered back, the single word carrying a world of hope and fear, a promise of a reunion fraught with uncertainties and unspoken feelings. A wave of relief washed over Hongjoong, followed by a pang of anxiety. He had so many things he wanted to say to you, so many apologies to make, so many feelings to confess. But he feared that it might be too late, that the damage he had caused was irreparable. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult for him to speak.

"Thank you," he managed to whisper, his voice barely audible. "I'll be back home in a few weeks, I’ll see you then?"

"Yeah...yeah, I'll see you then," you replied softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. "Take care of yourself, Hongjoong.''

The call ended, leaving Hongjoong alone in the dimly lit room once again. He sat there, staring at his phone, his heart heavy with a mix of relief, fear, and longing. He didn't know if this was the beginning of a new chapter or the closure of an old one. All he knew was that he needed to see you. He needed to say the things he had been unable to say for the past six months. And most importantly, he needed to apologize.

three

The interminable weeks you anxiously awaited for Hongjoong's return seemed to mercilessly drag on, transforming into a seemingly endless expanse of time. In truth, the past few months without him felt like an eternity, every moment punctuated by his absence. After the initial shock of your breakup, which shook you to your core, you managed to shake off the immobilizing numbness that it brought. Once the initial shock was dealt with, you allowed yourself to fall into a routine, an everyday pattern of activities that became your lifeline in these challenging times. This routine, mundane as it might have been, was the only thing that kept you going, the only thing that kept you sane amidst the tumult of emotions that threatened to consume you. It was your anchor in a sea of chaos, providing a sense of normalcy in a world that, without Hongjoong, felt anything but normal. So, when you saw the news that ATEEZ had returned from their tour, it took you by surprise. You thought Hongjoong would call you straight away, that he would want to see you as much as you wanted to see him. You were holding on to the thought of seeing the man you loved again, of finding closure, or perhaps a new beginning. But the call didn't come, and with each passing day, your hope dwindled a little more. The silence was deafening, filling you with a sense of dread and disappointment. But despite everything, you continued to wait, clinging on to the hope of hearing from him. Days turned into weeks, and the silence from Hongjoong was deafening. You tried to keep yourself busy, to distract your mind from the painful thoughts that threatened to consume you. You began to question his intentions, wondering whether he really meant what he said during the phone call. Did he truly miss you, or was it just a moment of weakness? Did he genuinely want to see you, or was he simply trying to ease his guilt? Your mind was a whirlpool of questions, doubts, and insecurities. You felt like you were trapped in a never-ending cycle of hope and despair. Despite the emotional turmoil, you couldn't bring yourself to reach out to him first. You weren't ready to face the possibility of rejection, the fear of him telling you that he had moved on and that the phone call was a mistake. So, you waited, hoping against hope that he would contact you.

One evening, while you were trying to drown your sorrows in a sad movie and a tub of ice cream, the doorbell rang, startling you out of your thoughts. Your heart pounded in your chest as you got up to answer it. As you swung the door open, there he was. Hongjoong stood on your doorstep, looking just as nervous and scared as you felt. You were taken aback, not having expected him to show up at your doorstep. You felt a mix of emotions - surprise, fear, anxiety, but also a strange relief. Despite the emotional turmoil swirling within you, you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at the sight of him. He was as handsome as always, his dark blue hair tousled slightly, his eyes filled with a mixture of apprehension and longing. For a moment, you found yourself lost in the depths of his gaze, the familiar warmth of his presence washing over you like a comforting embrace. It was surreal to see him standing there, on your doorstep, after so many weeks of silence and uncertainty. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the tumult of emotions that raged within you.

"H-Hey," he stuttered out, his eyes avoiding yours. "I hope I'm not... I hope this isn't too soon."

"No, it's... it's okay. Come in," you said, stepping aside to let him in. He hesitated for a moment, then walked inside. You closed the door behind him, it felt strangely normal to have him there, in your apartment, as if the last few months had been nothing but a bad dream. But the tension in the air was palpable, a reminder that things weren't the same anymore. You led him to the living room, he took a deep breath, his gaze wandering around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings.

"It's been a while," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, it has," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. The silence that followed was deafening, both of you lost in your own thoughts. Finally, Hongjoong broke the silence.

"I... I wanted to apologize," he began, his voice shaky. "I know I hurt you, and I'm... I'm really sorry." He looked at you, his eyes filled with regret. "I made a mistake... a big one. And I... I want to make it right." You were silent for a moment, processing his words. It was what you had been waiting to hear, but now that he had said it, you didn't know how to respond. You looked at him, studying his face, searching for sincerity in his eyes. Despite the hurt and confusion swirling within you, you couldn't deny the flicker of hope that ignited at his words. His apology felt genuine, raw with emotion. As you wrestled with your thoughts, a part of you longed to forgive him, to embrace the possibility of reconciliation. Yet another part remained guarded, wary of opening yourself up to further pain. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "I've missed you so much," he confessed. Suddenly, Hongjoong reached out, pulling you into an embrace. The sudden movement startled both of you, but neither of you pulled away. On the contrary, you nestled deeper into his arms, burying your face into the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of his cologne instantly calmed your racing heart, making you feel like you were home again. In his arms, the pain and heartache of the past few months seemed to melt away. As you held each other in a tight embrace, the weight of the past few months began to lift, replaced by a sense of comfort and familiarity. Despite the pain and uncertainty that had plagued your relationship, being in his arms felt right, as if you were finally where you were meant to be.

"I've missed you too," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. The words were a confession, a raw admission of the emptiness that had consumed you in his absence. The warmth of his embrace melted away the walls you had built around your heart. Despite the doubts and uncertainties that lingered in the back of your mind, you couldn't deny the overwhelming rush of emotions that surged through you. Without thinking, you lifted your head from the crook of his neck, meeting Hongjoong’s gaze with tear-filled eyes. At that moment, all the words you had been longing to say seemed to vanish from your mind, replaced by a desperate need to express the depth of your feelings for him. Leaning forward, you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a tender, passionate kiss. For a fleeting moment, it felt as though time stood still, the world around you fading into oblivion as you lost yourself in the intoxicating warmth of his embrace. In that moment, all the pain and heartache of the past seemed insignificant, overshadowed by the overwhelming rush of love and longing that coursed through your veins. As you pulled away, breathless and trembling, you found yourself staring into his eyes, searching for some sign of understanding, of reciprocation. Hongjoong smiled and giggled quietly,

''I did not expect this…'' Your heart fluttered at the sound of his soft laughter, a gentle melody that filled the room. Despite the gravity of the situation, his laughter was like a balm to your wounded soul, easing some of the tension that had been building within you. Hongjoong’s hand found its way to your flushed cheek, it was a comforting presence, his touch sending shivers down your spine as you leaned into his touch, relishing the warmth of his palm against your skin.

"I know," you replied softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

''Can we do it again?'' A soft chuckle escaped your lips at his bashful demeanor, finding it endearing how he could still manage to blush after all this time.

"Of course," you replied, a playful glint in your eye as you leaned in closer to him. The warmth of Hongjoong’s breath against your skin sent a thrill coursing through you, reigniting the spark of desire that had never truly faded between you. Closing the distance between you, you pressed your lips to his once more, savoring his familiar taste and feel. It was as if no time had passed at all, as if you were picking up right where you had left off, lost in the intensity of your love for each other. As you pulled away breathlessly, the intensity of the moment lingering between you, Hongjoong placed his forehead against yours, his hand pulling you closer by your waist. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that had been dormant for far too long. The kiss deepened, growing more passionate and needy. Your bodies pressed together, the heat between you rising. Hongjoong's voice was husky when he pulled back, his breath hot against your ear as he said,

"I'm not gonna stop myself if we keep on." You could feel his arousal pressing against you, a stark reminder of the intimacy you hadn't shared in so long. A shiver ran through your body as you processed his words, your heart pounding in your chest. You had missed this closeness, the intoxicating intimacy that only Hongjoong could provide. Despite the uncertainties that still lingered, your body yearned for his. You met his gaze, your eyes reflecting the desire that was undoubtedly mirrored in his.

"Then don't stop," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. There was no hesitation in his actions then. His lips found yours again, his hands exploring your body, reigniting the flame that had never fully extinguished. Hongjoong's grip on your hips tightened, his touch electrifying, igniting a spark within you. He pulled your hair just the way you liked it, gentle yet firm, exposing your neck to his gaze. He began to leave a trail of wet kisses along your sensitive skin, his warm breath causing shivers to run down your spine. The anticipation was unbearable. You knew that after all this time, after all the longing and desire that had built up between you, you wouldn’t last long. Every fiber of your being was desperate to feel his body against yours, to experience the intimate connection that only he could provide. And as if he could read your thoughts, Hongjoong returned to kissing you, his lips capturing yours in a passionate embrace. He was devouring you with an intensity that took your breath away, his every touch and kiss stoking the fire within you. You felt his hands tugging at the hem of your hoodie, his fingers deftly pulling it over your head in one swift, practiced motion. As the fabric lifted away, the cool air of the room hit your skin, causing a shiver to course through your body. To Hongjoong's surprise, you were not wearing a bra underneath. His eyes, dark with desire, roamed over your exposed chest, taking in the sight of your bare skin. There was a moment of silence as he savored the sight, his breath hitching in his throat. Your head was spinning, a whirlwind of emotions and sensations taking over, and you could feel yourself getting wetter with each passing second. Hongjoong placed his palm on your breast, cupping it gently but firmly. His touch was warm against your skin, a stark contrast to the cool air surrounding you. His fingers, tender and explorative, began to play with your nipple, tracing delicate patterns that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You moaned softly. Each touch ignited a spark within you, a flame of desire that seemed to grow with every passing second.

As your hands began to wander, you found yourself drawn to his jeans. Your fingers deftly unclasped his belt, the metallic clink echoing in the room. Heart pounding with anticipation, you slid the zipper down, the sound seeming to reverberate through the room. Hongjoong quickly removed his own shirt, revealing his toned chest. Your hands instinctively reached out to him, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. In response, he wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground with ease. Hongjoong carried you towards the bedroom, and a sense of anticipation filled the air. As he gently put you down, your eyes locked with his, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. His lips found yours again in a deep, passionate kiss while his hands roamed over your body, further stoking the flame of desire within you. You found yourself lost in his touch, each stroke of his fingers sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. As he slowly moved down, peppering soft kisses along your neck and collarbone, you could hardly contain the moan that escaped your lips. Hongjoong pulled your shorts down, kissing your stomach and hip bones. His touch was electrifying, setting your skin ablaze with a hunger that only he could satisfy. You reached for his pants, finally tugging both them and his boxers down and revealing his throbbing erection. Hongjoong groaned as you wrapped your fingers around his thick dick, you spread pre-cum on his length and stroked him gently yet firmly, eliciting a moan from him. Hongjoong was so hard, so ready for you, and the thought only made you wetter. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you knelt in front of him and placed a kiss on the tip of his throbbing length. Sensing his anticipation, you started licking him from the base all the way to the tip, savoring the taste of him. His body shivered in response to your actions, his breath hitching as he watched you with a mixture of desire and disbelief.

"I missed the way your cock tastes in my mouth,” you said just before you slowly took him all into your mouth, your lips wrapping around his length as you began to bob your head up and down. The sensation elicited a groan from Hongjoong, his hands instinctively reaching for your hair to guide your movements.

"F-fuck," Hongjoong moaned out, his grip on your hair tightening as you continued to pleasure him with your mouth, your tongue swirling around his length in a way that had him seeing stars. His body was tense, filled with an anticipation that was only heightened by the rhythm of your movements. The room was filled with the sound of his ragged breathing and the wet noises of your mouth on him. His hand tugged at your hair, guiding you, setting the pace. His other hand found its way to your shoulder, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggled to keep control. "I... I need to be inside you," he gasped, the words barely more than a whisper. You looked up at him, your eyes locking with his. There was a raw intensity in his gaze that sent a thrill coursing through you. You nodded, releasing him from your mouth with a final lick, a smirk playing on your lips as you watched him shudder at the sensation. You crawled back up his body, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, the sensation eliciting a soft moan from him. Hongjoong's hands found their way to your hips, guiding you to the bed. He positioned himself on top of you, his hands gently spreading your legs. His fingers slowly explored your folds,

"You are so wet, so ready for me" he murmured in awe, his fingers brushing over your slick folds. The sensation caused you to gasp. With a sudden surge of impatience, you pulled him closer by his neck, kissing him aggressively.

"Hongjoong, I need you now," you demanded, your voice thick with desire. He positioned himself, ready to give you what you so desperately wanted. But then, he stopped, pulling back slightly and looking into your eyes with a serious expression.

‘’Are you on the pill?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

"No, not anymore," you admitted, biting your lower lip anxiously.

"Condoms?" he asked, hoping that you had some.

"I don't think I have any," you confessed, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Shit, I think I have some in my wallet," he moved off you and rushed to search his wallet, which was carelessly thrown to the side earlier. After a moment, Hongjoong let out a sigh of relief as he pulled out a condom. Returning to the bed, he positioned himself above you again, his dark eyes filled with desire. You took the condom from him, your hands slightly shaking as you carefully unrolled it down his throbbing length. You guided him to your entrance, the anticipation making you shudder with pleasure. As he slowly entered you, you couldn't help but gasp at the overwhelming sensation, the feeling of him inside you sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. As Hongjoong began to move, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you, your hands found purchase on his shoulders, clinging onto him as if your life depended on it. The rhythm of his movements, slow and deliberate at first, gradually picked up pace, each powerful thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you and drawing moans of pleasure from your lips.

"Hongjoong whatever you do just don't stop now," you moaned, your toes curling in pleasure. His name fell from your lips again in a breathless whisper, the sound of it spurring him on. The room filled with the sounds of your passion, the rhythmic creaking of the bed, and your shared moans and gasps of pleasure.

"You feel so good, baby” he moaned. You felt his dick throbbing inside you, which made you clench around him, making him moan again. As your climax approached, your body tensed, your grip on him tightening. Hongjoong could sense it, and his thrusts became more powerful. "Are you going to cum for me, princess?" he asked, his voice husky with desire. Your body responded to his words before your mind could, a rush of pleasure coursing through your veins. You could do nothing but nod, your body taut with anticipation. Hongjoong’s movements became more deliberate, his rhythm matching your own as the tension built.

"Yes," you breathed out, the word barely escaping your lips before a wave of pleasure washed over you. Your body convulsed, your grip on him tightening as you rode the waves of your orgasm. His name fell from your lips in a breathless moan as you rode out your orgasm, each wave of pleasure more intense than the last. With a final, powerful thrust, Hongjoong groaned, his body tensing as he reached his own peak. Feeling him still buried deep inside you, you could sense the warm sensation of his cum filling the condom. Hongjoong’s head fell to the crook of your neck, his hot breath against your skin as he rode out the waves of his climax. The room fell silent, save for the sound of your labored breaths. He collapsed next to you, took the condom off, and threw it away. Hongjoong pulled you into his arms, and his fingers traced lazy circles on your bare skin, the sensation sending tingles down your spine. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. There was a softness in his gaze, a tenderness that you hadn't seen for a long time. It warmed your heart, bringing a gentle smile to your face.

"I was going crazy without you," Hongjoong whispered his words a fervent declaration of the depth of his longing. "I missed you every single day," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper as you gazed into his eyes, losing yourself in the depths of his gaze.

"You wouldn't let me forget about you," you smiled sadly, "ATEEZ were everywhere." You chuckled, the sound tinged with a hint of melancholy. "Every time I started to get a bit better, you would show up on a TV or the internet."

Hongjoong gave a bitter-sweet laugh, "I guess we're inescapable, huh?" His hand moved from your waist to cradle your face.

"I was so proud of you, Hongjoong," you confessed, your voice choked with emotion. "It just hurt that you needed to leave me to do all these amazing things."

His gaze softened at your words, his thumb gently brushing away the tears welling up in your eyes. "I didn't want to," he admitted quietly, his voice hauntingly sincere.

"Will you stay for tonight?" you asked him, your voice quiet and hopeful. A silence hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of unspoken words and raw emotions. Hongjoong looked at you, his gaze soft and contemplative. It felt like an eternity before he finally responded.

"I wish I could," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "But I have to go back. There are things I need to take care of." A pang of disappointment shot through you at his words, but you understood. His world was unforgiving, with schedules and commitments that left little room for personal desires. You knew that asking him to stay was selfish, but some of you couldn't help but wish for a little more time together.

"I understand," you replied, your voice tinged with sadness. "But promise me this won't be the last time we see each other. Promise me you'll come back."

"I promise," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'll come back as soon as I can." You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite the tears that threatened to fall. Hongjoong planted one last kiss on your lips, before gently untangling himself from your embrace. He rose from the bed, his eyes scanning the room for his scattered clothing. You pulled a comforter from the bed around your naked body as you got up from the bed, and you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso.

"Stay over," you tried convincing him again. "I don't want to be alone." Your lips found the back of his neck, peppering soft kisses there. Each kiss was a silent plea, a yearning for him to stay. He shivered under your touch, goosebumps erupting on his skin. You knew he loved it when you kissed his neck like that. His eyes closed and a soft sigh escaped his lips, a clear sign that he was fighting the urge to stay with you. With one hand, you pulled him in closer, his back pressed against your chest. Your other hand traveled down his torso, exploring his body. You slid your hand lower, until you grabbed his cock, causing Hongjoong to let out a whimper at the sudden contact. The sound was music to your ears, a testament to the effect you had on him. This moment felt right, a perfect blend of desire and intimacy that only you two could share. As you started to pump him slowly, his cock hardened again. Kissing all over his neck, Hongjoong trembled under your touch. Your touch was gentle, yet firm, as you slowly worked him back to full erection. His reactions were immediate and intense, his body trembling under your hands. Hongjoong’s breath hitched in his throat, a soft gasp escaping his lips as you trailed kisses up and down his neck. Every touch, every kiss, seemed to set his nerves on fire, his body humming with pent-up desire.

"Feeling your dick get hard in my hand is so hot," you whispered into his ear. Hongjoong’s breath hitched at your words, he was completely at your mercy, his eyes fluttering closed as he lost himself in the sensations you were coaxing from him. His hands reached for you, his fingers digging into your arm as a silent plea for more. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps, each one a testament to the pleasure you were bringing him. The room was filled with the sound of your soft murmurs and his gasps, the air heavy with desire. You took your time, savoring each reaction, each tremor that ran through him.

"I'm going to make you come so hard," you breathed against his neck, your voice filled with a promise of the pleasure to come. A shiver ran through his body at your words, anticipation causing his breath to hitch in his throat. The kisses you trailed along his neck grew more passionate, more desperate, each one a promise of the pleasure to come. He was trembling beneath your touch, his body writhing with anticipation, ready for the climax that was sure to come.

"Need... need to feel your mouth on me. Please, please," he moaned as you sped up your movements on his length. You could feel his desperation in every word, the primal need making his voice tremble. You turned his body to face you, without missing a beat, you moved down his body, trailing kisses along the way. You took him in your mouth, your movements slow and deliberate at first, earning a guttural moan from him. His hand found its way to your hair, fingers tangling in the locks as he guided your movements. With every moan, every gasp for breath, you could feel him lose himself in the pleasure you were giving him. It only spurred you on further, your movements becoming more confident, more insistent. Hongjoong was a moaning mess, his body tensing as he felt the precipice of his release approaching.

"God... F-fuck," he stuttered, the words tumbling out amidst irregular breaths. He looked at you, his eyes dark with desire and pleading. "Baby, I love you... Can I... Can I cum in your mouth?" your eyes met his, a soft nod of consent given as you continued your movements. The quiet room was filled with only the sounds of his heavy breaths and soft curses. Your name fell from his lips like a prayer, his hands gripping your hair tightly. "I love you... I love you so much," he gasped out, his body trembling as he reached his climax. His cum filled your mouth, the taste of him intoxicating and familiar. You swallowed it all, a sense of pride swelling within you. As his release washed over him, you could see the love and adoration in his eyes. He was open, vulnerable, and completely yours at that moment. Post-orgasmic bliss took over him, his body going limp as he tried to regain his breath. You crawled up, placing soft kisses along his chest, his jaw, his lips. Hongjoong pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

"I love you too, Hongjoong," you whispered, your head resting on his chest. His heart was still racing, the rhythm syncing with your own. You could feel his fingers tracing patterns on your back, a content sigh escaping his lips. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. The look in his eyes said it all. He was in love, and so were you. Despite the challenges and the heartache, you belonged together. And in that moment, everything felt right. For a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy your embrace, his mind lost in the warmth of your touch.

"So, did that earn me your stay?" you asked playfully, a hint of mischief in your eyes as you looked up at him. Hongjoong kissed your forehead, before gently pulling away from your embrace, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he looked at you with regret-filled eyes.

"Baby I really wish I could stay, but I can't," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "I have early rehearsals tomorrow. I promise I'll come back soon." He gently extricated himself from your grasp and began to get dressed.

"Don't go," you pleaded softly, your voice barely a whisper. But despite the plea in your eyes, he knew he couldn't stay. No matter how much he wanted to remain by your side, his responsibilities were calling him back.

"I don't want to leave you," Hongjoong murmured in a tone that was barely a whisper, his eyes filled with regret. "But I have to. I have responsibilities that I need to attend to." Despite the warmth of your bodies pressed together and the lingering taste of you on his lips, he knew he couldn't stay. He gave you one last look, his heart aching at the sight of your disheveled hair and the love in your eyes. The silence in the room was heavy, filled with unspoken words and lingering emotions. Once fully dressed, he turned back to you, his gaze soft. He walked over and pulled you into a gentle hug, his hand stroking your hair in a comforting gesture.

"I'll see you soon, I promise," he whispered into your ear before pulling away. Hongjoong gave you one last lingering look, his eyes filled with longing before he opened the door and stepped out of your apartment, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

However, Hongjoong did not keep his promise.

four

Once again, days turned into weeks, and Hongjoong was nowhere to be found. You started to believe that your meeting was only a dream, a figment of your imagination borne out of desperation and longing. Each passing day without any word from him further reinforced this belief. The emptiness that you had once managed to keep at bay was slowly creeping back in, consuming you bit by bit. The silence was deafening, a harsh reminder of the reality you were trying to escape from. It felt as if you were trapped in a never-ending cycle of hope and despair, each passing day a test of your resilience and strength. With each passing day, a seed of doubt began to grow within you. Was it possible that Hongjoong regretted what had happened? Could it be that the promises whispered in the heat of the moment, the tender kisses and reassuring words, were nothing more than a mistake? The thought gnawed at you, casting a dark shadow over the glimmer of hope you had been clinging on to. You found yourself questioning everything, your mind a whirlpool of confusion and despair. Your days were filled with uncertainty and your nights were haunted by dreams of him. You longed for the comfort of his presence, aching for the familiarity of his touch. Yet, all you were left with was the deafening silence, a cruel reminder of the distance that had grown between you.

Three weeks had passed since you last laid eyes on Hongjoong, and the absence was fucking with your head. Questions spun around in your head like a whirlwind, each one piercing deeper than the last. Was it only the sex that he missed? You were haunted by the warmth of his touch and the intoxicating way he used to look at you. The ghost of his touch still lingered on your skin, a cruel reminder of the intimacy that once existed. The silence of your phone was deafening, the man who once couldn't go a day without hearing your voice, who used to fill your inbox with loving messages, had now been reduced to radio silence. Your mind was a battlefield, memories of him clashing violently with the present reality. This was not the Hongjoong you loved and cherished, the one who held you through the darkest nights and lit up your world with his smile. This was a stranger, a phantom wearing Hongjoong's face and carrying his memories, a cruel mockery of the man you once knew.

five

On a sunny afternoon, you came back from grocery shopping and approached your apartment complex. Upon reaching your floor, you found Hongjoong leaning against your door. The sight of him waiting there, a look of nervous anticipation on his face, sent a jolt of surprise through you. The sound of grocery bags dropping onto the floor startled Hongjoong, his head snapping up to see you standing there, a look of shock and anger on your face. He quickly jogged over to help you pick up the scattered items, but you recoiled, pulling the bags away from him.

"Why are you here, Hongjoong?" You spat out his name like it was poison. "I don't want to see you," you quickly got up as you finished picking up what was left from your shopping.

"We both know you don’t mean it…" Hongjoong blurts out, a look of guilt crossing his face.

"My manager found out I came to see you," Hongjoong admitted, avoiding your gaze. "The company... they're not happy. They made me sign a contract." His voice was barely a whisper, but the words hit you with the force of a freight train. "I'm... I'm banned from dating now." His words hung heavily in the air, the final blow to the fairytale you had tried so hard to keep alive. The revelation left you speechless, your heart aching at the harsh reality of his words. You felt a cold wave of disappointment wash over you, the realization of Hongjoong's predicament hitting you like a punch to the gut.

"Banned from dating?" you echoed, the words sounding foreign on your tongue. As the weight of Hongjoong's confession settled over you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal. It wasn't just the fact that he was banned from dating that stung, but the realization that he had chosen to prioritize his career over your relationship once again. "How could you?" you whispered, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. "After what happened that night, you still chose them over me?" The hurt and anger bubbled up inside you, threatening to spill over at any moment. You felt like a fool for ever believing that things could be different, for allowing yourself to hope for a future that was never meant to be.

Hongjoong reached out to you, his hand hovering in the air as if unsure whether to touch you. "I didn't have a choice, Y/N," he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. "You have to believe me. I didn't want this to happen." But his words fell on deaf ears.

"You always have a choice, Hongjoong," you retorted, your voice laced with bitterness. "You chose to sign that contract!" The tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. "You promised you would be back to see me, Hongjoong! You said you missed me and you wanted to make this right. And now this?" you exclaimed, your voice shaking with the intensity of your emotions. The betrayal cut deep, his broken promises like salt in the wound.

"You can't just show up here after weeks of silence and expect me to be okay with this," you continued, your voice raw with emotion. "You've made your choice, Hongjoong. Now, I'm making mine. I can't do this anymore."

Your words hung heavily in the air, the finality of them echoing in the silence that enveloped the two of you. Hongjoong was left standing there, a stunned expression on his face as he processed your words. The man who was once your world, who held your heart in his hands, was now a stranger standing before you.

"I... I didn't mean to hurt you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. His eyes were brimming with regret, the weight of his actions visibly weighing on him.

"But you did, Hongjoong," you replied, your voice steady despite the tears that threatened to spill. "You hurt me... and the worst part is, you chose to. You chose them over me... again."

The silence that followed was deafening, the tension palpable. Hongjoong looked as if he wanted to say something, to defend himself or perhaps apologize, but no words came out. It was as if he finally realized the gravity of his actions, the damage that he had caused.

You turned your back on him, the sight of him too painful to bear. The man you loved was no more, replaced by a stranger who wore his face and held his memories. As you walked away, you could feel his gaze on you, heavy with regret and longing. But it was too late. The damage had been done, and there was no turning back.

You walked into your apartment, closing the door behind you. The finality of the sound echoing in the silent hallway. As you leaned against the door, your knees gave out, sending you sliding down to the floor. Sobs racked your body, the tears flowing freely now. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. You froze, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Y/N, please," Hongjoong's voice filtered through the door, his tone desperate. "I love you, please let me in." But you couldn't bring yourself to open the door, to face him again. His words, once so comforting, now felt like a cruel mockery of what you once shared. You wrapped your arms around yourself as if to ward off the chill that had seeped into your bones.

"I can't, Hongjoong," you whispered, your voice barely audible. The silence that ensued was deafening, only broken by the occasional sob that escaped your lips. You could hear Hongjoong's muffled pleas on the other side of the door,

"Baby, I need you to understand," he began, his voice steady despite the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. "I love you. In this world, it's always been you. Without you, I feel so alone. I need you to really hear me when I say that I love you." he murmured, his voice filled with so much pain that it made your heart ache.

Your cry spasmed through your body, causing you to shiver uncontrollably. Between gasps for air, you managed to sob out, "I love you too." Hongjoong’s voice fell silent on the other side of the door, and you clung to the silence, hoping, praying that he had left. But then you heard it, a low, heartbreaking sob from the other side.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," Hongjoong's voice was barely more than a whisper, choked with emotion. "I'm sorry for everything." You clung to the cold, hard floor, your body wracked with sobs. The apartment felt emptier than ever, the silence echoing through the space, a stark reminder of your loneliness.

"Please let me in," he tried begging again, his voice echoing through the silence. But you couldn't. You were too hurt, too betrayed. You curled up tighter on the cold floor, your heart aching as his pleas continued to echo through the small apartment.

"I...I need to go," Hongjoong finally whispered, his voice heavy with sorrow. You heard his footsteps recede and the faint sound of the hallway door closing. You were finally alone, the silence in the apartment a stark reminder of the void he had left behind. In the silence of your apartment, you allowed yourself to break down completely. Your sobs echoed through the empty space, your heartache manifesting in the tears that streamed down your face. You felt the loss of him deeply like a part of you had been ripped away.

six

You had lost track of how much time had passed since you last saw Hongjoong. The days blurred into weeks, and the weeks blurred into months. Morning turned into night, and night turned back into morning, but the ache in your heart remained constant. Hongjoong’s absence was like a gaping wound that refused to heal. You found yourself going through the motions of life, putting on a brave face during the day while falling apart in the solitude of the night. Every little thing reminded you of him - a certain song on the radio, the scent of his favorite cologne lingering in the air, the way the morning sunlight streamed through the window just the way he liked it. You knew it was wrong, that you needed to move on, but it was easier said than done. The memories of him were etched deep within your heart, a part of you that you couldn’t just erase. You missed his laughter, his touch, the way he used to look at you. You missed him, and it hurt more than you ever thought possible. Try as you might, you were coping really badly without him. His absence had left a void in your life that you didn't know how to fill. You felt lost, adrift in a sea of loneliness. You yearned for his presence, for the comfort and familiarity that he brought into your life. Despite the heartache and the pain, you were holding on. Holding on to the hope that, maybe, with time, the pain would lessen. Holding on to the memories that brought you joy in your darkest moments. Holding on to the love that, despite everything, still lingered within your heart.

You started to go clubbing, drinking more alcohol than you should, each shot you took was a desperate attempt to erase him from your mind, to numb the pain that was threatening to consume you. You tried to lose yourself in the rhythm, in the mindless chatter and laughter around you, but all you could think about was Hongjoong. Alcohol, which was supposed to help you forget, ironically made him even more present. His name was etched on every bottle, his memory swirled in every glass, his phantom touch felt in every drunken stupor. Each night was a replay of all the moments you shared, every word exchanged, every secret whispered, every promise made.

The club was packed, the music pounding in time with your heartbeat. The smell of alcohol and sweat filled the air, mingling with the intoxicating scent of perfume. Lost in the crowd, you tried to drown out the loneliness that gnawed at your insides. Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you. Turning, you found yourself face to face with a stranger. He was handsome, with a warm smile and dark, inviting eyes. He offered to buy you a drink, his voice barely audible over the loud music. You nodded, accepting the drink he handed you. The alcohol burned your throat, but it was a welcome distraction from the emptiness you felt. As the night progressed, the stranger became more comfortable. He leaned in closer, his hand brushing against yours. His touch sent a jolt through your body, a feeling of excitement... and something else. Something that felt like a betrayal. The stranger leaned in for a kiss, his lips barely inches from yours. You wanted to respond, to surrender to the desire that was churning within you. But as his lips meet yours, a flash of Hongjoong's face appears in your mind. It was as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on you. Suddenly, the stranger's touch felt wrong, his presence a stark reminder of what you were missing. With a gasp, you pulled away, pushing the stranger off you. You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your chest. You turned and ran, pushing through the crowd, desperate to escape. The stranger called after you, but his voice was drowned out by the thumping music. Once outside, you leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the truth. Despite the desire to move on, to forget Hongjoong, your body seemed to have a mind of its own. You still craved his touch, his presence. It felt like your body was still his, refusing to let go, refusing to be with anyone else. It was a painful realization, a glaring reminder of the void that Hongjoong had left in your life. Staggering back to your apartment, you felt more alone than ever.

After what felt like forever, you reached your apartment complex. Stumbling through the doorway, you barely had the strength to close the door behind you. Your thoughts were a blur, the world spinning around you as the effects of the alcohol finally started to take a toll. You leaned against the wall for support, the cold surface offering a stark contrast to the warmth that was spreading through your body. A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you slid down the wall, your body finally giving in to the exhaustion. You sat there, alone in the darkness, the silence of your apartment echoing the emptiness you felt inside. You pulled out your phone, your fingers hovering over Hongjoong's name. Without any hesitation, feeling like you had already waited too long, you pressed the call button. The phone rang, but there was no answer. A pang of disappointment hit you, though it was an outcome you weren't entirely surprised by. You sighed, waiting for the beep before leaving a voicemail.

"Hongjoong, it's me," you began, your voice slightly shaky. "I was out clubbing, and there was this guy… We kissed and… and he wanted to take me home. But I couldn't... I couldn't because it felt like I would be cheating on you. And that just... it made me feel sick." There was a pause as you braced yourself, gathering your thoughts. "The worst thing is," you continued, your voice slightly choked, "that I would still welcome you with open arms. I miss our life together, Hongjoong. I miss you." There was another pause, a heavy silence filling the line. "I'm so sorry," you said, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm so sorry for making you feel bad about choosing your career. I know how much you wanted what you have now. And I... I shouldn't have held you back." You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you grappled with the words you knew you had to say. "And Hongjoong," you added, your voice filled with a quiet intensity, "I will never not love you." With that, you ended the call, the silence that followed echoing with the weight of your words.

In a haze, you managed to make your way to your bed, your body sinking into the familiar comfort of the mattress. The silence in the room felt overwhelming, and your mind filled with thoughts of Hongjoong. You missed him terribly, the uncertainty of his whereabouts gnawing at you. Pulling out your phone, you started to text him, your fingers clumsily typing out the words.

"Hongjoong... I miss you. I don't know where you are... and it's driving me crazy," you typed, the words blurring on the screen as tears welled up in your eyes. You hit send, the message disappears into the ether. Tears trickled down your cheeks, the emptiness of the room amplifying the loneliness you felt. You cried a deep, aching sob that echoed in the silence of the room, your body shaking with the intensity of your feelings. The room was dark, the only light coming from the screen of your phone, you picked it up and started typing another message.

"Hongjoong, I miss you."

"I need you, Hongjoong."

As you sent the message, a wave of regret washed over you. You knew you shouldn't have sent it, but the alcohol in your system and the loneliness in your heart had made you reckless.

"I still love you."

"I love you so much it hurts."

"I wish I wasn’t hurting this bad."

You dropped your phone on the bed, the screen illuminating the darkness as your messages were sent into the void, unanswered.

"I wish things were different."

The truth of your words hit you like a sledgehammer, and you broke down again, sobs shaking your body as you curled up on your bed. You cried until you fell asleep, your dreams filled with memories of Hongjoong.

seven

The crowd roared with applause as Hongjoong left the stage, his heart pounding in his chest. The energy from the audience was infectious, their cheers and screams echoing in his ears long after the music had stopped. The final show of the tour had been a resounding success, each seat filled, each ticket sold. As he walked off the stage, the reality of their success began to sink in. The bright lights, the screaming fans, the sold-out venues - it was more than he had ever dreamed of. Despite the fatigue that was beginning to set in, he couldn't help but bask in the afterglow of their performance. The excitement, the adrenaline, the sheer joy of performing - it was a feeling like no other. After all was said and done, he found himself walking through the corridors, personally thanking each member of the crew. Their faces lit up at his words of gratitude, their hard work acknowledged by their leader. The atmosphere was filled with camaraderie and mutual respect, a testament to the bond they shared. Once he had made his rounds, he finally reached his sanctuary - his dressing room. The room was dimly lit, the quiet hum of the air conditioning the only sound breaking the silence. Rows of neatly hung suits, shirts, and accessories greeted him, a stark contrast to the chaos that had ensued earlier. Exhaustion washed over him like a tidal wave, the adrenaline that had been fueling him all day finally starting to wane. His body felt heavy, his mind cloudy from the day's events. He moved towards the plush leather couch sitting in the corner of the room, his legs giving way as he sank into the soft cushions. The quietness of the room enveloped him, a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. He let out a sigh of relief, his body sinking further into the couch as he allowed the exhaustion to take over. The day had been long and arduous, but he had made it through, and for that, he was grateful. Hongjoong reached out and picked up his phone from the bedside table. The bright screen lit up, and his heart skipped a beat as he saw your name at the top of his notifications. Hongjoong's heart pounded in his chest as he played the voice message. Your voice, which he hadn’t heard in so long, laced with alcohol and desperation, echoed in his brain. His breath hitched at your confession, the image of another man touching you burning in his mind. It was a torment he hadn't prepared for, a reality he refused to accept. His grip on his phone tightened, his knuckles turning white as your words washed over him. Each syllable was like a dagger to his heart, the pain raw and unbearable. As the full weight of your words sunk in, he was left reeling, the reality of your pain and longing hitting him like a punch to the gut. He had never felt more helpless, more desperate. After hearing the voice message, he quickly clicked on the text notifications. His fingers trembled slightly as he read the messages:

my love: "Hongjoong... I misssss youuuu. Don't knoowww whereeee u r... it's drivin' me craaaazy."

my love: "Honjoong, I missss youuuu.”

my love: "I neeedd yoooo, Hongjoongg.”

my love: "I stiilll lovvee yooouu.”

my love: "I wishhh thinggs werre differrrent.”

my love: "I luvv yu sooo muchh it hurttss."

my love: "I wishh I wasn't hurtin' thiss badd."

In a heartbeat, Hongjoong got up from the sofa, the quick motion caused his head to spin. Shaking off the disorientation, he lunged for his bag, hastily gathering his belongings in a flurry of swift movements. All his thoughts were consumed by one singular goal - he needed to see you. Not bothering with changing out of his stage attire into something more casual, he embraced the urgency of the moment, allowing it to fuel his actions. He shrugged on his jacket, barely noticing the lingering sweat on his skin or the way his stage clothes clung to his body. Hongjoong’s heart pounded in his chest, as he sprinted out of the dressing room. His eyes darted around the bustling backstage area, scanning the familiar faces and chaotic scenery in search of one person. His manager. Every second was critical, each fleeting moment amplifying the urgency of his need to see you. The world around him seemed to blur into a whirlwind of colours and sounds as he navigated through the backstage chaos, his mind solely focused on his mission.

"Hongjoong, are you alright?" Minah, the stylist, asked as she approached him cautiously. She had been observing him from a distance, noting the far-off look in his eyes. It was unlike him to be this distracted, especially when they were on a tight schedule. Hongjoong didn't even notice her until she was right next to him, her voice cutting through the fog of his thoughts. He blinked, turning to look at her with a slightly startled expression.

"Where is my manager?" he asked, his voice tense. It wasn't like him to be so curt, and Minah knew instantly that something was off. She glanced warily at him, biting her lower lip anxiously.

"He stepped out for a moment, he should be back soon," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. She had been working with Hongjoong for a while now and she had never seen him this agitated before. Hongjoong nodded, his gaze wandering off again as he started scanning the room left and right. He looked like a man on edge, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. His hands were clenched tightly in his lap, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. Minah watched him with growing concern, her mind racing as she tried to think of a way to help. She had seen him tired, stressed, even overwhelmed at times, but she had never seen him like this. He looked like he was at his breaking point, like he was about to shatter into a million pieces. She knew better than to press him for answers, knowing that he would open up when he was ready. But as the minutes ticked by and his anxiety seemed to mount, she couldn't help but worry. Something was clearly wrong, and she felt helpless as she watched him struggle.

"Fuck it," he cursed under his breath, his thoughts racing as he rushed towards the back doors that led to the underground parking lot. Hongjoong made his way through, heading straight for the exit. At that moment, the possible consequences of his actions didn't matter to him. Just as he was about to pry open the alarmed doors, causing the alarm to ring out, he heard someone calling his name.

"Hongjoong, what do you think you're doing?" It was his manager, jogging over to him.

"I'm going back home," Hongjoong declared, his voice ringing with a determination that startled his manager. The manager, taken aback by the sudden change in his typically professional demeanor, quickly tried to regain control of the situation. He grabbed Hongjoong by the shoulder, attempting to steer him back towards the conference room where a team of publicists and stylists awaited their return.

"You aren't going anywhere, Hongjoong," his manager sternly replied, his grip tightening on Hongjoong's shoulder. "We're flying back in two days after the interviews. You know the schedule." Typically, Hongjoong was a stickler for professionalism. He understood the importance of maintaining a certain image, of fulfilling his responsibilities and keeping to the schedule. But this was not a typical situation. His mind was filled with thoughts of you, your voice in that message echoing in his ears. The sound of your soft sobs, the barely concealed panic in your voice - they haunted him. He needed to be with you, to hold you, to reassure you that everything was going to be okay.

With a firm shake of his shoulder, he freed himself from his manager's grasp, his movements abrupt and filled with a newfound, desperate energy.

"Seonghwa will take the leader role when I'm gone," he declared, his voice louder than it had been all night. "You will figure something out," he continued, his voice echoing with a resolve that hadn't been there before. Hongjoong gaze was intense, almost desperate, as he looked at his manager, it was a look they had never seen before, a look that spoke of desperation and determination that was both terrifying and heartbreaking. "Give me the keys to the car," Hongjoong demanded, his voice icily calm in contrast to the furious glint in his eyes. But his manager defied him, refusing to hand over the keys. Hongjoong was on a rampage, his usual composed demeanor replaced with a fiery rage that was starting to consume him. His vision blurred, the edges tinged with red as his frustration escalated."I NEED to go!" Hongjoong shouted, his voice filled with an urgency that cut through the tense silence.

"You're not thinking straight, Hongjoong," his manager retorted, his tone laced with frustration and concern. "You can't just abandon everything and run off. Think about the consequences!"

"I don't care about the consequences!" Hongjoong snapped, his patience wearing thin. "This is more important!"

"Oh, is it?" his manager sneered, a manipulative glint in his eyes. "Remember, Hongjoong, I can ruin you. I can leak your little secret to the press. Imagine the scandal, the headlines... ''ATEEZ's leader, Kim Hongjoong, abandons tour to chase after ex-girlfriend.'' How do you think the fans will react?" Hongjoong knew it was a threat, a blatant attempt to control him, but the reality of the situation was that his manager held the power to destroy his career.

Hongjoong's heart pounded in his chest, his blood running cold at his manager's words. He gritted his teeth as he cut off his manager's words.

"How do you know it's about her?" he demanded, his voice harsh. A cold dread washed over him as he considered the implications. How was it even possible for his manager to know you had contacted him? After all these months of radio silence, how could he possibly know? His manager shrugged, an unreadable expression on his face.

"I have my ways," he said cryptically. "Besides, it's not like I don't know what she still means to you." The words stung, a harsh reminder of the heartache Hongjoong had been trying to bury. "Don't tell me I didn't warn you," his manager said smugly, dangling the car keys in front of him. With a sigh, Hongjoong snatched the keys from his hand, his determination unwavering. He would face the consequences of his actions, whatever they may be, as long as it meant he could be there for you.

For the first time in his life, Hongjoong didn't care about professionalism or the implications of his actions. He didn't care about the shocked expressions of his manager and the other staff members. He didn't care about the potential backlash or the consequences he might face. This time, all he cared about was you.

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 1 | "Don't Do This Again."

summary: a heated argument with your boyfriend Matt who’s the fuckboy of the town about him sleeping with another girl at a party you attended last night but are you going to give him another chance, or value your well being and break things off?

warnings: ANGST, arguing, cheating (do not even try), swearing, no happy ending, slapping, not proofread & possibly more?

authors note: first day of NNN means the first blurb, hope y’all enjoy this and sorry if it’s kinda rushed and short I just need to get this done by morning since I have quite a bit on my head today, luv y’all so much!

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

“It was just this one time, cmon now!” He argued, throwing his hands in defense and trying to justify his actions in any way. I can’t believe the audacity he has to think anything of what he did was okay, he’s just another typical fuck boy. “I don’t care! You fucking promised me you wouldn’t do this to me like you did the other girls! I can’t believe I trusted you.” I yell back, feeling my frustration filling the air around me as our words echo through the room.

“Don’t be like this, I promise it won’t happen again but for real this time.” He says softly with a lower octave, attempting to get closer to me and get a grasp on my arm but I step away as soon as he reaches his arm out in my direction. “Oh don’t start with this bullshit, you’ve said it too many times already for anyone to believe it.” I argue back, rolling my eyes out of annoyance. Ive forgave him enough times already.

“Please, I really promise. Baby don’t leave me.” He said as I noticed desperation starting to rise in his eyes, I felt a slight prick of symopathy pierce through my heart. Ive given him enough chances I would be betraying my morals by staying, but he looks so desperate. "I dont think youre worth the heartbreak anymore, I'm sorry but we cant be together anymore" as the words left my mouth, I saw something crush in his eyes, his face still shadowed with faint hope. He approached me again and tried to hold onto me again, "y/n, cmon we can work this out y'know? just stay with me and we'll figure this out."

He inhales a sharp breath before continuing. "I might have been not the best boyfriend but I seriously promise ill change for you." he pleads, looking at me as if hes about to drop to his knees and worship me just in hopes to make me stay. I can feel the pain hes experiencing as it radiates off him but I turn away because I cannot stare into his eyes any longer, I hear him sniffle behind me. "y/n dont be ridiculous, we've done this before and we can do it again." he finally manages to grap my arm, his grip being tight and desperate to hold on. I remain in my stance facing the door of his bedroom and ready to storm out, suddenly he pulls at my arm and forces me to face him directly. "are you seriously just going to walk away from all of this? leave us behind?" i hear slight frustration rise in his voice, annoyance starting to now shadow his features.

"I can't let you keep breaking my heart like that, Matt! you really have to stop with doing this to every girl you're with." I state and spare him a single glare before attempting to escape his grip which only makes it tighter and now more angrier, I notice the slow chances in his apperance as well as actions. Them becoming frustrating and mean, the polar opposite of what he looked before, nothing new. He always used it to manipulate me into antthing he wanted but its not going to work on me now. "Don't even fucking try to get away from this conversation, you're staying and theres no discussion." He orders sternly, obviously making it his mission to force me into staying with him. "Matt, you're being unbelievable right now seriously. This needed to end eventually and you knew it." I answer, my temper visibly starting to rise in my tone of voice.

I roll my eyes at him, sharpingly yanking my arm out of his vice grip and storm out of the room as Matt follows right behind me. "I'm being unbelievable? oh please, dont make me laugh right now." He huffs, I turn around to glare at him and now see him fully change from plead and desperation to annoyance and frustration. I almost don’t recognize him, he takes slow steps towards me and stops a few meters away. “You’re even lucky I picked to date you out of all of the girls I can have.” He mocks, looking at me as if I’m the most pathetic human ever. Its crazy how much he changed in the span of just few minutes, it just proved how manipulative he can be.

“Who are you?” I question, angry tears filling my eyes at the thought that he could have never even truly loved me and just pretended to care when I gave him all of the chances he had now completely lost. “Oh how the tables have changed now, huh? Looks who’s now the one crying.” An evil chuckle echos through the hallway, he slowly walks towards me and I back away until my back hits the wall with a soft thud. His face comes inches close to mine, observing my pissed off expression as false hope shadows my features.

“You’re such a worthless little bitch-“ before he could finish his bullshit sentence, I deliver a deserved hard slap across his face. Slapping noice echos throughout the house as he becomes speechless, taking advantage of his frozen state I slip out from between him and the wall and dart to the front door. Escaping into my car as I faintly hear him yell out. “Where the fuck are you going?” By the time he gets outside of the front door I quickly start the car and drive off, letting the tears from my eyes fall freely without any restrain as the last time I see him press his back on the front door with an unsatisfied look on his face.

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[stxrvel]

losing myself

memories of how you lost yourself trying to keep your best friend afloat. content. angst, depression and suicidal thoughts. this is post-suguru's death, except the first memory. a/n. i just can't seem to bring myself out of the angst for jjk, i apologise in advance!

jjk main masterlist | main masterlist

Helping Satoru was a way of losing yourself. When Haibara died and Suguru abandoned them, Shoko dealt with it in her loneliness and the only thing Satoru could lean on was you. Your shoulder was his support, the only thing that kept him sane to reality as you both tried to graduate and made the decision to teach school, you for a much more selfish reason than Satoru's human reasons.

Helping Satoru cost you a lifetime of loneliness. You loved your friend and after what happened you were so desperate not to lose anyone else that you were willing to do anything, even if it meant losing everything that once made you who you were and all motivation. You thought your identity didn't compare to the pain and helplessness of not being able to do anything while everyone walked away, but your decision led to a lonelier life than you had thought.

“Hey, everything okay?” Shoko approached through the hallway, the darkness relenting once she was standing next to you. “You look pale.”

“I'm fine. Just a little tired.”

The clouds around you enveloped them on either side, a somber feeling settling in between the space Shoko kept her distance with.

“Well, we've graduated. From now on the pains can't be so great.”

“Yeah, right. We're past the worst of it, aren't we?”

“I'd like to think so.”

Her cocked smile thawed a little of the chill settling in your chest, but her eyes told you everything her lips didn't. She knew, everyone knew, that you hadn't been the same since Suguru left. Satoru was staying afloat because of his goofy personality, but trying your best to keep it that way, the sparkle in your eyes disappeared. The person who used to be told that she brought the sun in her eyes had completely clouded over. Shoko saw the storms in your eyes, the impenetrable and unceasing tempest. She couldn't cross it without dying trying.

“You can talk to me if you need to.”

That was what she said every time, even though you never took her at her word. Shoko always proved she could survive on her own, however she had done it, whatever process she had to go through, the smile she gave you in those moments at least was more genuine than yours.

Satoru was too wrapped up in his own world, his own head and his own pain to stop for a moment to notice yours, which Shoko and the others could. You never placed that guilt on Satoru's shoulders, nor did you need to, but it was something you were sadly aware of. Satoru didn't push you aside because he was selfish, it was simply his way of processing things, so internally and individually inside his head. Just as you had made it your way of processing grief to help Satoru tirelessly, to the point of almost becoming his shadow.

“I don't know what to do anymore, y/n,” Satoru cried, hands holding his head and knees against his chest.

Utahime had called out to you, barely passing you out of eagerness and blurting out a couple of words that you could deduce were about Satoru. It was painful as you knew you had to prepare in advance to see him, because it was heartbreaking to have to help him process his pain while you had to keep your own at bay.

“I'm tired of dreaming about it. I'm tired of… seeing him.”

Your hands moved over his hair, his cursed technique disappearing every time you were near. You tried to contain the trembling of his body by holding his shoulders, but having you closer only made him more vulnerable.

“Not sleeping is not the solution, Satoru.”

“That's the only way,” raising his head, his puffy blue eyes returned your gaze. At times like those, you didn't know how he hadn't noticed your sunken eyes or the black bags that even years later still wouldn't go away.

But it was about him. Satoru was in bad modd. You had to help him. You had to hold him.

“No, it's not. I'm here,” your knees touched his feet, his face contracting as a fresh tide of tears lashed his chest. Cold hands wrapped around you and your numb hands wrapped around his neck. “I know you miss him. I know you regret it.”

His sobs against your shoulder grew louder and louder, but Satoru kept his grip with hostility. He held close to you as his lifeline, the float that carried him across the ocean, shipwrecked in his own pain, lost in his own mind.

“But you know you don't have to carry that pain alone, Satoru.”

“I don't know what I did, y/n…”

“You did what you had to do.”

“No…”

“If you hadn't done it, I would have.”

His head jerked up, his blue eyes crystallizing and pain written all over his face with the trail of tears that wouldn't stop flowing.

“It wasn't anything either of us would've had to have done,” you shook your head, trying to contain the memories in the back of your head, trying to focus on pain your friend in that moment, on what really mattered. “It wasn't anything either of us had to endure.”

“But you're fine…”

You almost snorted, controlling yourself enough to let out a sigh. His naive eyes wouldn't leave yours, almost as if he was constantly wondering what you were doing to deal with all that he wasn't. As if there was something wrong that he was doing or something he wasn't doing that you were, because in his eyes, up until that moment, you were fine.

“I'm fine when you're fine.”

“I'm not fine right now.”

“I know.”

You seemed to think a glimmer of understanding crossed his eyes. You didn't know, you couldn't be sure, but his face returned to your neck and the tears stopped falling. Minutes passed in silence.

“I'm sorry,” was the last thing he said that night.

Helping Satoru was something you would never regret, even when you had lost your spark and the students loved him more than you.

“I thought you were going out tonight.”

You ran into Nanami on your way to your dorm. It was getting close to the time of the outing Satoru had proposed for that night and you knew that if you didn't go no one else would show up there. You hated to think of dashing your friend's hopes, but he had already developed enough strength to go through such a disappointment. It had been months since he had becone strong enough to deal with such situations on his own.

“I'm tired.”

“For something specific?”

It was common for your friends to dance around the elephant in the room, and sometimes you allowed yourself to think how different things would be if they had at some point been more daring with their approaches, as you were with Satoru. What would've changed, then or in the past, if Nanami or Shoko had been more insistent? Where would you be now? Where would you be later?

“Nothing specific. I'd just like to get more rest tonight,” you sent Nanami a smile, the kind you had mastered to avoid such conversations.

“Very well. You know I'm just a phone call away if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Nanami.”

Were you really that selfish? In all their remoteness, your friends were still concerned about your well-being. Had enough time passed for you to not care? If you didn't want to be unwell, why was it so hard for you to accept their help?

“You've lost weight,” Satoru was right beside you from the moment you left Yaga's office.

“The mission went well, Satoru, thank you for caring.”

You tried to dodge him to go back to your room, but of course the white-haired man wouldn't just walk away just because. Lately he was closer, more attentive, more condescending…

“Are you eating well?”

Satoru was trying hard to ignore the way his words brought back dark memories. From the moment he realized what had been happening, his mind was scheming every second of the day in trying to find a way to bring you back to your original state. He couldn't even fully concentrate on the missions, but that was no obstacle for him.

“I'm tired, Satoru. It was three days. I need to sleep.”

“I told Yaga many times to let me go with you…”

“I handled it just fine on my own, Satoru.”

“I know! I'd just like to be of some use-”

“You want to be of some use? Leave me alone!”

The bed was freezing cold as it was every night. You changed the sheets that morning and organized the entire bedroom in a strange spike of energy. You felt a little better afterwards, but not enough. It had never stopped looking and feeling so empty, no matter what you did.

Satoru called you a couple of times that night, but as usual, he'd give up after a couple of tries.

You wondered again, drowsily, what would be different if only he had insisted a little more…

[amaranthineghost]

| DARLING, OUR STARS ARE DYING, BUT WE'VE STILL YEARS LEFT TO BURN ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando x reader

ꕥ parts: 2

ꕥ summary: their relationship is dying while their love burns strong, yet they're unsure if they can save themselves.

ꕥ authors note: I have an idea for a part two, so if anyone wants a continuation of what happens, let me know :3

ꕥ warnings: it's just sad. minor implications of sex, but mostly angst and heartbreak.

SOMETHING WAS WRONG. they hadn't known what, but something was off in their relationship. for years, they'd loved each other, and no doubt they still did. they'd spent every waking moment they could with each other, but they hadn't realized their relationship had grown stale, unchanging for years.

it puzzled them because the love they had for each other still burned strong, but their relationship is dying.

they'd find themselves spending less time with their lover, more time with their friends in separate nightclubs across monaco. though their relationship lacked excitement, they would never seek it out in other people. because at the end of the day, they'd find their way home, drunkenly stumbling through the door of their apartment and back into each other's arms.

they found themselves depending less on the other for entertainment and companionship. their love wasn't dead, but their relationship felt like it.

when sitting right next to each other at the dinner table changed to sitting at opposite ends. when they'd make a mess in the kitchen to cook a dinner to share between them changed to making separate meals at different times.

though they were still young, it felt like life had finally caught them as they got entangled in their careers. he traveled the world, she stayed in the comfort of their apartment. maybe it was lacking. lacking the naivety of their youth that created the spark of their relationship.

because when he was home for odd weeks during the year, he was always out. from the crack of dawn till the sun set on the other side of the sky, he'd be out exercising with his trainer, having dinners with his team, or just clubbing.

and she'd barely attend his races now, her presence unseen in the paddock, causing numerous rumors to surface and plague the internet. because when they'd be seen in public together, which was a rare occurrence now, they wouldn't have a single touch to connect them.

the internet had realized their status before they had. nobody knew why they'd changed, not even the couple that had been through thick and thin. they couldn't imagine being apart, but it was like they were bored.

they didn't know what to do. they'd been through countless struggles together, finding solutions in the dark. but they had no flame to light their path this time.

it killed them. they wanted so badly to revive their love, but they didn't know how. they knew they needed to talk, but they were never around anymore. they didn't even sleep in the same bed as one another.

it was often they could find themselves with eyes wandering their wall with pictures framed, a few crooked that she would pester and nag him to no end to fix. he never would. the imperfect perfectness every time he looked between their faces, eyes crinkled with smiles caused a sad one to take it's form on his face.

he missed the memories between them because they were that, memories. they'd never do anything like that now. no ski trips where he'd spray her with snow with every stop, with her cursing him out all in good fun. because she'd do it right back.

no more lying on beach towels next to each other in the sun, getting tan, though she told lando he never needed to. and every time without fail, he'd take her sunscreen, squirting odd shapes onto her back that'd be displayed for weeks. she'd always slap him for it.

they didn't go out anymore. any attempts to relive what they once experienced were futile. they tried fancy restaurants, but silence with high tension plagued the air around them as they ate awkwardly.

because now it felt like they were back to square one. when he claimed to know her like the back of his hand, he wouldn't be so sure now. it was like they didn't know who they were anymore. they stopped talking to each other because they'd given up. there wasn't anything they could do.

she'd been on their couch, aimlessly flicking through countless tv channels. her eyes weren't even on the screen, and her hand was on autopilot while she channel-surfed. she'd let out another sigh, her eyes rolling over to his office door.

it was ajar, she could see movement from inside the room. she looked longing at it. she remembered when she'd distract him from his work, placing herself in different spots around the room, but ultimately ending up on his desk.

her eyes adjusted back to the tv, shutting it off and tossing the remote somewhere on the couch. she sat in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of him living in another world just ten steps away. because their relationship had gotten to the point where it felt like they were living in different time periods that crossed each other's lives.

they'd barely focus on each other because they didn't have the time. they were never alone together anymore, always in separate rooms, or surrounded by friends.

it pained her, guilt building in her body with every step. her stomach churning with every creak in the floorboards. she walked on the tips of her toes to his office. she hovered over the door handle, despite the door being slit open.

part of her hesitated because she didn't want to do this. she didn't want to leave him, to lose him, but it felt as if she didn't have a choice. remaining a couple benefit neither of them, it only hurt what remained and what remained was merely nothing.

but he was her first love, and first everything. it felt like betrayal to turn her back now, but she's afraid their backs have been turned for months because she can't recall the last time she thought of him as her soulmate. she loved him, but was love simply enough to save them?

when she pushed open that door, she knew she'd never be the same. they wouldn't be the same and part of her was okay with that because nothing's changed. she couldn't keep living like this, she was still young. young enough to meet another person to settle with, which seemed crazy to her to think about. she'd never thought about anyone but him.

"lando, can we talk?"

the hair on the back of his neck rose, dread filling his heart. he'd been waiting to hear those words for months, every conversation, they loomed in the back of his mind. though he hated how much he expected to hear it, he knew it had to happen.

he'd turn in his swivel chair, pen nervously pushed between his lips. he looked at her sadly, already feeling the words yet to leave her lips.

"I think we should break up," her voice broke, caused by the tears that streaked down her face. she hated herself for breaking down, being vulnerable when they both knew it was coming to an end. it still hurt because despite her words, she loved him. she knew he did too.

he didn't know what to say, a simple 'okay' felt too harsh, but the tears in his eyes would've spilled if he spoke any more.

so he simply nodded, muttering something completely inaudible to her, and himself.

she shook her head, gazing at him through her hazy, tear-stained vision, her voice high in a struggled whisper, "what's wrong with us?"

"i wish i knew, darling," he slowly stood, his feet dragging across the carpet on the wooded floors. he stopped in front of her, a sad look across his face as he stared down at her. he noticed how she no longer wore his hoodies, or any of his clothes.

hesitantly, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his chest, he knew for the final time. he bit his tongue in hopes of not showing weakness because he didn't want to make her feel worse than she already did.

"i know i promised us we would fix this, but I don't know what to do." he muttered into her hair as he shook against her, " 'm sorry i broke my promise, love."

" 'ts okay."

"but it's not."

"i know." she pulled away, wiping her tears on her hoodie. she sniffled, her nose and eyes red while she gazed up at him, "i'll pack my things, 'ts your apartment after all."

he was quick to shut her down, shaking his head, nearly breaking down as he spoke, "no, I couldn't kick you out." because what boyfriend—ex-boyfriend would he be if he kicked her out onto the blazing streets of monaco? he couldn't do that to the girl he loved so deeply, but he knew he couldn't stay. he had to let her go and he despised it because he knew it was for the best.

"I'll stay with max," he said simply, looking at her desperately with sad eyes, "please, let me just take care of you, financially at least."

"it feels wrong to depend on you."

"i know, but 'ts the one thing I can do for us."

so he left, packed his bags and drove his mclaren far from their apartment, now hers. he looked in the rearview mirror sadly, seeing her standing in the only hoodie he'd left for her. he couldn't see the tears in her eyes, but he knew they were there like they were in his.

he nearly turned around. he wanted to fix this because he didn't want to leave her. she was all he knew and it was like starting over. it felt like betrayal to leave her and find himself in a random club across the city.

but he'd been doing that for months with no issue. it only hurt now that he didn't have an apartment to go back to with her presence residing in it.

he punched the glass of his rearview mirror because it felt like the past staring him in the face. because she should've been in his future.

[planet-marz1]

The Less I Know The Better

Summary: Joel returns home with a heartbreaking confession Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Word Count: ~1.7k

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, jackson!joel, established relationship, angst, angst no happy ending, infidelity, joel just kinda sucks honestly

A/N: After an eternity, I've finally finished my first little fic. A huge thank you to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for always being my biggest cheerleader & supporter when it comes to writing 💜 and to @kajashe & @hyzer34 for beta reading this for me!

| part ii | series masterlist | main masterlist | follow my fic updates blog @planetmarz1-notifs

beautiful dividers by @/saradika

The dim light from a single lamp flickered in the living room of your modest home in Jackson, Wyoming, casting long shadows on the walls. The walls seemed to embrace you as you lay on the couch, wrapped in a worn quilt. The rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock echoed in the silence, a stark reminder of the passing time. You stirred on the couch, blinking away sleep, your eyes searching for any sign of Joel’s return.

The door creaked open, the sound echoing through the silent house, announcing Joel's late arrival. You shifted on the couch, your eyes squinting against the sudden intrusion of light.

You sat up, rubbing your eyes, “Joel?” you called out, your voice laced with a mix of concern and fatigue.

There’s no response. You pushed yourself up, the quilt slipping off your shoulders, and a chill crept down your spine. “Joel,” you call out again softly, your voice tinged with concern and exhaustion.

Joel steps in, his silhouette framed by the soft glow of the moon outside. His shoulders slumped, a weariness etched into his face that you hadn't seen before. The air in the room seemed charged with an unspoken tension as he kicked off his boots, the heavy thud echoing in the quiet space.

His gaze met yours, and something in his eyes seemed distant, a flicker of guilt that you couldn't quite place. There was a hesitance in his movements, a weight that hung in the air. “Hey,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact as he shuffled toward the kitchen.

You studied him, noticing the subtle changes in his demeanor. The air in the room felt thick with unspoken words, a tension that had never been there before. “Where were you?” you asked, your words gentle but laced with a hint of worry.

Joel hesitated, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Just out,” he replied vaguely, avoiding the specifics.

A knot tightened in your stomach. The suspicion that had been gnawing at the edges of your consciousness intensified. “Joel, you've been different lately,” you admitted, your voice catching. “Is everything okay?”

He sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to carry more than just weariness. “I've just got a lot on my mind, that's all,” he muttered, his eyes still avoiding yours.

He looked away, guilt etched on his features. The room seemed to close in on you, the air heavy with unspoken words. Your heart pounded in your chest, and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. Something had changed, and you couldn't shake the feeling that the Joel standing before you was not the same man you had known.

The silence lingered, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the settlement at rest. You took a step closer, a sense of unease deepening in the core of your stomach. “Joel, we've always talked about everything. What's going on?”

He finally met your gaze, but his eyes held a distance you hadn't seen before. “Look, it's been a tough time for me. I just… I need some space, okay?”

The words hung in the air, leaving a heavy silence between you. Something in his tone felt off, and a chill ran down your spine. You couldn't put your finger on it, but a sense of unease settled over the room, casting a shadow over the once-familiar space.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing as you grappled with the unsettling atmosphere. “Joel, we've faced tough times before, and we've always faced them together,” you said, your voice carrying a mixture of vulnerability and determination.

He looked away again, a pained expression flickering across his face. “It's not that simple this time,” he muttered.

The silence stretched between you, thickening with each passing moment. Joel's evasion of your questions left a bitter taste in the air, and you couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in your chest. You took a step closer, reaching out to gently touch his arm, an attempt to bridge the growing distance.

“Joel, please,” you implored, your voice barely above a whisper. “I can feel that something's not right. Talk to me.”

He sighed, shoulders slumping even more. “It's not about us. It's about me.”

A cold shiver ran down your spine. The room, once a sanctuary, felt like a trap closing in on you. “Joel, you can't just leave me in the dark like this. Whatever it is, we can face it together,” you pleaded, your voice trembling.

His gaze finally met yours, and there was a haunted look in his eyes. “I messed up,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dread settled in your chest as you processed his confession.“Messed up how?”

He hesitated, and for a moment, the air hung heavy with unspoken truths. “I… I shouldn't have, but I… I was weak,” he stammered, his eyes avoiding yours once more.

Dread settled in your stomach as the pieces began to fall into place. “Joel, did you…” The words caught in your throat, the possibility too painful to voice.

He nodded, the admission hanging in the air like a heavy cloud. The room seemed to spin, and a profound ache settled in the pit of your stomach. You held onto a nearby chair, the weight of the revelation pressing down on you.

He looked away, unable to meet your gaze. “I never meant for any of this to happen,” he mumbled, a shadow of shame crossing his features.

A mix of emotions surged within you—betrayal, anger, and an overwhelming sadness. The room felt colder, the once-familiar walls now witness to a fracture in the foundation of your relationship. The silence stretched between you, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the settlement outside, oblivious to the unraveling of your world within.

Joel's admission hung in the air, a heavy cloud of betrayal and sorrow. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like an unfamiliar battleground where emotions clashed with the harsh reality. You struggled to process the revelation, the weight of the truth settling on your shoulders like a burden too heavy to bear.

A chilling silence enveloped the room, broken only by the distant sounds of the settlement outside. You looked at Joel, searching his face for some sign that this was a terrible misunderstanding, a nightmare from which you would soon wake.

“How could you?” you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion.

Joel reached out as if to comfort you, but you recoiled. “I don't know,” he admitted, his voice raw with regret. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

You held up a hand, a feeble attempt to create some distance between you. “Why, Joel? We've been through so much together. Why now?”

He sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I don't know, alright? It's like I lost myself for a moment. Everything's been so damn difficult, and I… I made a mistake.”

Anger bubbled within you, mixing with the hurt and confusion. “A mistake? Joel, this is more than a mistake. This is a betrayal.”

He winced at your words, the weight of his actions sinking in. “I know. And I hate myself for it.”

The room felt suffocating, the air thick with tension. You stood, pacing away from him, needing the space to process the whirlwind of emotions. Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Anger mingled with heartache, creating a storm of emotions within you. “How long?” you finally managed to choke out, your voice strained.

Joel hesitated before answering, each moment of silence amplifying the pain.”It's been a few weeks, maybe more.”

A few weeks.

The revelation struck you like a blow, and you felt the sting of tears welling up. 

A sense of betrayal and disbelief surged through you, threatening to overwhelm your senses. The cozy house, once a haven, now felt like a prison of shattered dreams. 

“Why?” you asked, your voice a desperate plea for an explanation, your eyes searching for any sign of remorse. “Why didn't you say something? Why let it continue?”

His eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of regret and shame. “I didn't know how to tell you. I was scared of losing you.”

Joel struggled to find the right words, his expression tortured. “I don't have an excuse. It's just… I lost myself for a while, and I thought I could fix things on my own,” he admitted, his admission doing little to ease the pain.

The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the fragility of trust. The room seemed to close in on you, and you struggled to find the right words to express the pain pulsing through your veins.

The room echoed with the weight of unspoken accusations and unshed tears. You stepped back, creating a physical distance, as if trying to escape the emotional turmoil. “I trusted you,” you whispered, the words heavy with disappointment.

He reached out again, this time not to comfort, but to grasp at the last strands of connection. “I messed up, but I want to make things right,” he pleaded, his eyes desperate.

The hurt and anger within you were too raw to process. “Make things right?” you scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “You can't just fix this, Joel. You've broken something that can't be repaired.”

The truth of those words hung in the air, a painful acknowledgment of the irreparable damage. The home the two of you shared, once filled with laughter and love, felt like a haunting reminder of what was lost. As Joel stood before you, the chasm between you widened, and the realization settled that the life you had known had crumbled into ruins.

A moment of silence stretched between you, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the settlement outside. The reality of the situation sunk in, and you felt the weight of a decision hanging over you like a guillotine. “I need time,” you whisper. “I need to process this.”

Joel nodded, a mixture of remorse and regret etched on his face. “I understand,” he murmured.

As he left the room, the door creaking softly behind him, you sank back onto the couch. The moonlight spilled through the window, casting a cold glow on the space that had once felt warm and secure. The echoes of Joel's confession lingered in the air, and you were left alone with the shattered remnants of a relationship that had been your anchor in this harsh universe.

tag list: @wannab-urs @pertinentpostmortem @party-hearses @mandoisapunk @bastardmandennis @catchallfangirl @chaotic-mystery @beskarandblasters @millerscoffee @worhols @amanitacowboy @littlegrungegirlaf @pamasaur @pedrodascal @gracieheartspedro @chloeangelic @annasinterests @sweetercalypso @ilovepedro @cool-iguana @pascalpvnk @alwaysmicado @lovers-liability @futuraa-free @morgaussy @pedritoferg @spookykoolkat @wethairjoel @chronically-ghosted @buckyispunk @pattwtf @morning-star-joy @elvinaa @onentaien-kwara @yourlocalmerchgirl @nandan11 @tinycozycomfort @magpiepills @nervoushottee @pr0ximamidnight @joelscurls @janaispunk @5oh5 @farmerlarrry @atinylittlepain

[storywriter007]

You Came Back - Jason Grace x Fem!Reader

summary: in which y/n tells jason grace something she thought she'd never ever say

warnings: cursing, emotional turmoil, heartbreak, mention of sex

genre: heartbreak/angst

word count: 826

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

y/n heard someone shuffle through the door of the principia. they tried sneaking in, quietly, but it was a failed attempt.

"you missed it." she said, not even turning around, and continuing to organize papers. "it's over."

"y/n," he sighed. "i'm sorry, i'm so, so, sorry. i was at camp half-blood, and i lost track of time-"

"don't apologize to me." she said calmly. "apologize to the kids. they were upset when you didn't show up."

fifteen little kids, all between the ages of six and ten, wondering why their hero hadn't shown up to spend the day with them. fifteen little kids asking y/n, "where's jason?" with disappointment in their eyes.

"maybe, i can talk to them tomorrow? or maybe, thursday?" he suggested.

"tomorrow, we have a senate meeting. thursday, we've got paperwork due. the next date you can take the kids around new rome is in around two months." she said. "when did i become the organized one, grace?"

"i know, i know. i fucked up. i was with piper, and i completely forgot i had to be here. i came here as fast as i could."

of course he'd been at the other camp, with his other friends, with his other girl.

"they were so hurt, jason." she said, feeling upset on behalf of all the younger children. "they were so excited to finally have a one-on-one with their hero. just for me to tell them that you got caught up in some last-minute, saving-the-world shit. and still, they left with their feet dragging and their heads down." she said, finally turning to meet his blue eyes.

he looked ashamed. he should be.

"thank you, for protecting my reputation." he said. "but you didn't have to lie for me."

"what was i going to say? i knew where you were, you're always there. 'sorry kids, jason's at his other camp right now, he probably forgot.' or should i have gone with 'don't worry kids, he probably lost track of time because he's with another girl right now. he'll be back when he's done.'" she said, sarcastically. "c'mon."

she was extra pissy with him today. usually, it would just be, "it's alright, don't do it again" even though it always happened again. but today was different.

the principia door opened, and a group of young children stood at the door frame. there were four of them, two boys and two girls. y/n knew them, since she'd taught all of them.

"what're you kids doing out of bed?" y/n smiled, her voice softening.

"hey, jason's back!" one of the kids pointed out.

"yes, yes he is. but why are you bunch out of bed?" she laughed.

they shuffled forward, and gave her a cupcake.

"happy birthday y/n!" they said in unison.

jason's face fell to the floor.

"aw, thank you guys." she smiled, giving the kids a big hug. "real sweethearts, aren't you guys?"

after a few minutes of further talking, y/n walked the kids back to their cabins, and returned to the principia.

"oh my god. y/n, i'm so sorry-" jason started once again.

she chuckled. "y'know, in the ten years i've know you, and in eight and a half you were my best friend, i never thought you'd be one to forget."

"i'm so sorry. i can't believe i forgot-"

"i can." she said. "you seem to forget just about everything relating to this camp."

"that's not fair. that's not fair, i didn't want to forget." he said.

"i'm not talking about your amnesia. i'm talking about now. i'm talking about the missed senate meetings, and missed deadlines, and missed expectations." she said. "you've forgotten everything about this place and everyone in it. it's been this way since you came back. and you say sorry, but you don't change."

"camp half-blood is my home just as much as camp jupiter is." he defended.

"i waited a long time for you, grace." she started. "i waited for eight months. i waited for you while everyone else thought you were gone. i thought you were dead, but i still waited."

"i came back."

"you did." she agreed, feeling her voice break. "but, sometimes, i really wish you didn't."

they were standing face to face, but her gaze was to the side, while he looked at her.

"because i would rather spend the rest of my life wondering what happened to you than you coming back and not recognizing my face." a tear fell from her cheek.

"i would rather have lost you forever than knowing a ghost of you." she paused. "i would have rather lived in misery than grief ."

"you came back. you sure as hell did." she smiled. "but your body came back, not your character." her voice broke.

she could see the hurt in his eyes. they were both grieving.

jason grieved over what he had done.

y/n grieved over who she had known.

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

there is not enough jason grace content on tumblr

[scarletwinterxx]

wait for your love - haechan scenario

hellloooo so this one is a request. I've mentioned it before, i'm still not the best at writing angst but I try😅 when i saw this request, a few scenes immediately popped in my head. Hope you like it🥺 also I was listening to We Can't Be Friends by Ariana on repeat while writing this.

Also a short anecdote, when I saw nct dream last year during Sorry, Heart stage I literally bawled my eyes out. Like full on ugly sobbing in my seat haha I was okay during the first verse but when it got to Haechan's turn to sing the chorus the tears just went falling like waterfalls

ANYWAYSSSSSS

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"What are we then?"

Those words shouldn't scare Haechan as much as it does. He hates it too. He hates how he can't say it to you but he doesn't want to let you go either.

He hates this grey area the two of you are in now.

"We're us. Isn't that enought?" he asks back

"For fuck's sake, we've been seeing each other for what? like 2 years now? And until now you still can't commit? I can't call you my boyfriend, you don't like it when people ask if we're dating"

"Because it's none of their fucking business"

"Well it's my business, I'm asking you right now, what the hell am I to you?" you stare at him, waiting for an answer. Any answer.

At this point hearing him say you don't mean anything to him would make more sense than the usual silence he'd give you.

"Baby, please I don't want to argue" he mumbles

"See, this is what you do all the time. I'm not a play toy. I'm not some past time you can call whenever you're bored, Haechan. We're adults now. I've invested my time, my feelings, a fraction of my life to you. For this. And you can't even answer me, is that too much to ask? Am I too much?"

You look at him, waiting for him to argue back. You didn't know it was this draining to be in a relationship or situationship or whatever it is you have with him. At some point you got tired of asking him what this all means. When it's clear he's not going to answer you, you stood up from your seat

"I can't do this" you whispered

"What?"

"I can't. I can't do what you're asking, Haechan" you speak clearer this time

He waits a few moments, letting the words sink in.

"What do you mean? I thought you said... you said we can"

With every word he tries not to show he's breaking right and the only thing keeping him together is you, and here you are about to slip through his fingers.

"We can't keep all promises, right? Like how you promised you'll try. This isn't trying."

"Baby-" "Don't" you cut him off. You know it will be a lot harder to walk away if you hear him call you that, it's already hard on you now.

"This is me letting you go" were your last words to him before walking away. You wipe the few tears that escaped, plastering a very fake smile before taking the first step away.

One of many you'd try to take just to get away from this heartbreak.

You would want to say that's not how it ended, that he changed his mind and finally mustered the courage to call you and say what he's really thinking. You want to say that he came the next day and surprised you, knocking on your door holding sunflowers for you.

But no.

After that day you never heard from him again. When you got the (unspoken) message that he'll never try to reach out and fix things between the two of you, you blocked him on everything. Your friends didn't ask questions, you went on with your life. Trying your best to bury and let that part of your story go.

From spending every day and most nights together to being strangers. You acted like he never existed to cover up the hurt you're feeling.

It's been over a year since that. You haven't really cried about it. Not even the day after he left. It's like you're just a shell now. You locked everything in a pandora box in your head, to be forgotten for the rest of time.

"Hey did you hear Dreamers new song?" your roommate asks the moment she steps through the door. You were sitting on the dinning chair, stacks of works and your laptop infront of you

She hears the song playing in the background, "Of course you have, it's good right?" she smiles

"Mhm, I like it"

"Sorry, Heart. Definitely an anthem for the broken hearted" she says withouth meaning out, "I meant like you know it's a sad song" she adds

You chuckle, she probably thinks this song is very fitting for you and you kinda agree with her.

"Anyways, I'm going to the lounge later. Want to come with?"

"Sounds good, I actually need to go out, stretch my legs and get some fresh air"

"Okay, let's leave after lunch"

You met with other friends at the lounge, chatting and sharing notes together. It was a good way to pass time. These days you find that it's best to keep yourself occupied so as not to think about things you'd rather not think about. You kept yourself busy. Finding random hobbies, fixation. For a while you liked running after class, then you got into baking, then crocheting. Activities that keeps you busy, distracted long enough not to remember.

One day you were at a record store, your newest hobby. Browsing for a new record to take home. Today out of the days you forgot to bring your headphones so you hum along the music playing in the store.

While reading the back of the record you were holding, you hear it.

A familiar voice you haven't heard in a long time, a voice you didn't think you'd hear again.

Your head shoots up, looking at the other side of the aisle.

You'd know his voice anywhere. You can be inside the loudest room and you'd still be able to single out his voice.

There he stands right across you, signing out your favorite bands newest song while he has his headphones on. Probably not realizing he's singing a bit too loud.

When Haechan felt someone staring at him, he looks up not expecting you to be looking back at him. He blinks a few times, comtemplating if this was all a dream or he's going crazy and started to hallucinate.

Immediately you put back the record you were holding and ran out the store. Once again leaving Haechan behind.

You're already far by the time he takes the steps to follow you, thinking this time he's not going to make the same mistake but you were already gone.

He knows you blocked him. Of course he tried to call you but his efforts were shut down when he couldn't reach you or his messages won't deliver.

Similar to you, he tried to find distractions. To drown out the thoughts, he drinks, goes out to parties, too many nights he drunk texted you, saying how much he missed you only to see it in the morning unsent. Most of the time there's music directly blasting through his ears. Music being his only escape from his own thoughts, if he's left long enough it's like his own mind is beating him up.

That's how he got into collecting records. He was on the look out for this new record so he decided to drop by the store that day. He didn't expect to see you there.

Out of all the places he'd see you again.

He's not going to lie, he imagined this moment many times before. Even rehearsed what he'd say to you when he see you again but now that it happened he just froze on the spot.

Just like that it's like he back in his room, watching you walk out his door for the last time. He's back to square one.

It's been weeks and no sign of Haechan. It's a good thing, you think.

Also you've been subtly avoiding going to public places just in case you accidently see him again. You thought you're ready, but the moment you saw him it's like all of these emotions you've repressed since you left came back again.

Your roommate finally convinced you to come out. A few of you were gathering for karaoke night. You almost said no again but you need a night out, one more night in your room might just drive you crazy.

"Oh my gosh, girlie you're hereeeee" one of your friends squeals when she saw you walk in the room

"I'm here as a spectator, not to sing" you tell her, accepting the bottle of beer she hands you

"Alright by me, you better cheer the loudest when I sing"

You got invited to karaoke night. A couple of students from campus got together tonight to hang out for chill night. Even though you don't really sing, you do enjoy hanging out with your friends.

You were talking to another friend when suddenly you hear the intro to a familiar song being sung by a familiar voice.

왜 이리도 쉽게 토라지는지? (Why do I become mad so easily) 내 맘이 작아서 너무 한심하지? (It's pathetic that my heart is so small right?)

You look over the makeshift stage to see Haechan holding the mic, singing out one of your favorite songs.

어떻게 널 볼까? (How can I see you?) 밤새 뒤척인 맘의 조각들 반짝이지 않아 (I toss and torn all night The fragments of my heart don't shine) 난 알고 있는데 내가 할 수 있는 건 (I know it, what I can do is) "I'm sorry", 그 말뿐이란 걸 (Only those words)

Before the chorus starts, Haechan looks through the crowd finding you. He looks straight at you as if he's singing every word to you.

Words you wished you heard from him a long time ago.

Tell me why I let you down Any chance I get, I'm breaking down 잘못인 걸 다 아는데 (아는데), 왜 힘든 걸까? (I know I'm at fault but why is it tiring?) To tell you that I'm sorry, heart

For the rest of the song the two of you look at each other. You listen to him, imagining it was really him who was saying those words and not through the song.

When he finished, you stood up to go outside and get some fresh air.

Of course he's here. Luck was never on your side and fate seems to like playing jokes on you.

Haechan watches your back, giving the mic to the next person before following you out. You hear the footsteps behind you, knowing who it might be without looking back.

You're now at the rooftop of the building, a fewer people were hanging out here than inside. Feeling another presence beside you but they haven't said anything yet.

Even though you already know who it was, you don't say anything instead you get another beer from a nearby cooler and passing it over to Haechan without a word.

For a while neither of you said anything, watching the view in front of you.

“I get flashbacks when I see you and not the good kind” you finally speak out loud

“You’re saying that like I was the worst thing that ever happened to you” he snickers, holding the bottle up to his lips to drink his beer

He really didn’t think you’d talk to him or even acknowledge his existence at all. But now here you are, at some rooftop at a party he least expected to see you. 

He’s trying not to be too obvious but he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Maybe it was the way the light hit your face, or how the cold breeze was hitting his skin and yours. The moment he arrived he was kind of hoping to find you here tonight. He knew some of your friends were coming, you did use to have the same circle of friends until he started to distance himself.

He's glad though knowing you found good people who'll be there for you.

He's looking at you again, not being able to stop himself. It was at this moment he realized. Realized something he never thought he was ever capable of ever doing again. 

Feeling. Loving. Falling and accepting. 

The sound of horns from cars and the murmuring people in the background, the city lights in front the two of you and the stars as the witnesses. Witness for something that’s about to unfold.

It was scary. This new found knowledge scared him. 

In the past it was scary to him to even think about being tied down. To be committed to someone. All of this comes from his fear of failing. He wanted to tell you that before, the last day before you ended things between the two of you he wanted to let you know the reason why he couldn’t set things straight with you was because he was scared of letting you down. He was scared you might feel trapped. 

It's wasn't you who was too much for him. He was the one who felt like he was too much for you. He thought he was being too fast, too careless. His fears got the better of him, costing him a future with you.

You walked away and everything in his life got worse. Like the only light in his life was extinguished. 

Right now feels like that one chance to get things right. Even though he still feels scared, this time he’s willing to take that risk for you.

There are other things to be scared of, like your gaze. It was the way you were looking at him.

Like you can just consume all of him with those eyes. How you’re saying a thousand words with them without saying a single syllable.

One look into his own eyes and he's ready to surrender everything to you.

“Do you really want to hear my answer to that or are you still emotionally unavailable?” you ask, taking a sip of your own drink. 

“At what point did you realize you liked me? Like really liked me?” he asked instead, all he got was a laugh from you. You were laughing out loud like it was the funniest joke you’ve ever heard. 

“We were watching a movie, I mumbled something under my breath. I think it was something along the lines of ‘oh that’s so cute’, talking to myself. Then I felt you hold my hand, you kissed it before holding it in yours for the rest of the movie. It’s not the grandest gesture but at that moment I felt so content. It was all I wanted but I knew you didn’t think the same way” you smile sadly recalling that memory. Giving him an answer, wondering why you did.

"I guess I never said sorry, I'm sorry"

You shrug, taking another swig from your drink. "What's done is done. I would say no hard feelings but I kinda do hate you for what you did"

"Good. I'd be sadder if you said you didn't care. Hate isn't the opposite of love, it's indifference" he says

"Was that what you felt for me before? Indifference?" you can't help but ask, in your mind you're not sure if you're ready to hear his answer but it's too late to take it back

He shakes his head, drinking the rest of his drink before standing straight to face you

"I felt more for you, more than I ever said. In that I was wrong, I admit. I should've told you. It might be no use in telling you now, but I did feel something for you. I was being stupid and was too scared to admit it"

"Then why are you telling me now?"

"Because I realized not having you in my life is scarier than the thoughts in my head. I was too scared of my own mind, I sacrificed you instead when I shouldn't have. I could've told you. I wish I told you"

You listen to him, letting it sink in. For so long you asked just what went wrong, what you could've done differently or what would've happened if you stayed.

"I waited, I waited until you told me you liked me. But the more I waited, the more I started to not like myself. I knew I deserved more but I stayed because I wanted to be with you. You were always first to me" you say

Hearing you say those words breaks something in him. He did like you, he still likes you. Haechan has always kept a safe distance from everyone, you were the only exception.

"I'm glad we got to talk" you say to him with a smile, then you walk back inside.

This time Haechan didn't follow you because he knows this won't be the last time he sees you.

"Oh my gosh, so that's what happened between the two of you?"

After that conversation with Haechan, you went back to your place and called it a night. The next day your roommate noticed you were staring blankly into space, out of concern she asked you what's wrong. You told her all that happened in the past 24 hours then you told her all about your history with Haechan.

"Yep, I haven't seen him around campus that much after that"

"You know, one of his friends is my blockmate and we go to the same gym. I heard he did an exchange program for a year, maybe that's why you haven't seen him around" she tells you

"Oh really, he did mention it before. Maybe he went through with it" you mumbled

"So you guys were like in a situationship then?"

"I guess so. We weren't exclusive, but he was the only guy I was seeing for like 2 years. Remember when I was barely home"

"Oh! That was him? He used to like send food here all the time whenever you were busy studying"

"What?"

"Oh my god I forgot to tell you that? yea this was like when you guys were a thing. During exam season or when you're busy with reports and stuff, he'd drop off food for you" she tells you

"I thought you had those delivered"

"Girl no, half of the time he leaves it at our door. The only reason I know is because I caught him one time and he fessed up"

No, you definitely didn't know that.

Haechan never told you. He never told you anything. At some point you thought it was better to not ask instead of being met with silence as a reply.

One thing you know though is he's the type to take action rather than say it. You won't be surprised if he did it before, he might not be good at expressing himself but he never passed the chance to make you feel like you're the only girl in his world.

It feels like that was another lifetime ago, that at some point in your life you'd rather be the backburner than totally lose him.

Seeing him again was no help. It's like you spiraled down again. You thought he didn't have this effect on you anymore but you were wrong. You'd be lying if you say you haven't thought of him since you saw him last.

What you didn't know was Haechan felt exactly the same. He's trying to think of a way to reach out to you without seeming to needy, he didn't want you to think he's forcing himself back into your life.

Another week has passed and still no sign of you. He decided to get drinks with his friends, he's a few drinks in when he decided to call it an early night. This really wasn't where he wanted to be.

He's not sure where he wants to be. All he knows is his night would be a thousand times better if he sees you, even just a glimpse.

On his walk back to his place, he plucked a branch from a random plant. Picking out the leaves one by one, leaving a trail behind him.

You're on your way back from the library, deciding to get some midnight snacks first. You noticed the scattered leaves on the road, chuckling at the sight. The more steps you take, you slowly realized it's the same path to your apartment.

You slowed down, looking around to check if anybody was close to you but the street is empty. You grab your phone in your pocket just in case, while you hold your keys with the other hand.

When you're nearing your front door, you see someone sitting at the steps. Head lying low, you can't even see his face but you'd know that brown mop of hair anywhere.

"Haechan?" you called out for him

Haechan looks up, seeing you walking towards him. At first he thinks he's dreaming, he wipes his eyes to clear his vision. Even pinched his arm to check if this was real.

You're here.

He's here.

"What are you doing here?" you asked once you're standing right in front of him

"I grabbed drinks with Yangyang and Jeno, I swear I was walking home. I guess I got confused" he mumbles, now holding a branch with no leaves on it.

You look at it, then looked back at the trail of leaves behind you.

"Do you want to come in? Go drink some water or coffee first before you head back" you offered

"Are you sure?" he asks back, standing up from the steps

"Wouldn't offer if I wasn't. Let's go inside, it's getting chilly"

He steps aside to let you go first, following behind you. The elevator ride up to your floor was quiet, even after going in your apartment Haechan didn't say a word.

"Here, have some water. I can make coffee but it's too late to drink it, do you want ramen or something?" you ask him while getting the snacks you got out of the grocery bag

"Do you usually ask guys to come in with you and cook ramen for them?" he asks

He meant to only think of it, but with the little amount of alcohol in his system seems to have turn the filter off.

You snicker at his question. Instead of answering him, you grab two ramen cup noodles from your cupboard and turn the kettle on. You wait for the red light to turn green before pouring it in the cups, bringing it over the kitchen island and taking the seat beside him.

"I can't even order late night snacks without thinking about you, we used to do it all the time when I came over at yours or when we're having late night hangouts. You ruined a lot of things for me" you finally say

Haechan just looks at your profile. Even though you say it like that, there's really no trace of anger on your face. Maybe you are, but to him you look so pretty and cozy. He wanted to beat himself up for ever thinking he can walk away from this. From you.

"For what it's worth, whenever I get drunk I used to text you all the time. You probably blocked me because the messages never got delivered. Every morning I see that on my phone, message after message until I lost count. I knew you weren't going to answer but I still did it"

"Why?" you ask him

"I missed you. I wanted to tell you I was being stupid, I wanted to beg for you to take me back. But all of those thing I could only say with a bit of help from alcohol. That's how I knew I couldn't go back, not yet anyways. You deserved more than drunken confessions"

You look over at him, for the first time since that night you really look at him. The same eyes that used to feel like home to you.

He looked so different yet the same.

You still feel the same.

"It's been 3 minutes, you hate soggy noodles" you nod at his ramen. Opening your own cup to start eating. Neither of you said anything after that. It wasn't awkward, you actually enjoyed the quiet.

For the first time since Haechan came back and you saw him again, your mind was at peace. You weren't overthinking things. You weren't wondering your long list of what if's.

It's like a part of you knew he's finally here again.

After the quick snack session, he helped you clean up before walking towards the door.

"Thank you for the uh snacks and water" he didn't know what to say, a shy Haechan is a rare sight so you can't help but smile.

Haechan sees this, he can feel his own cheeks redden. You still look so beautiful when you smile, so beautiful that he's ready to fight anyone who makes you smile that isn't him.

"Go home, it's late. You're sober now right?" you ask him

"Yea, I'm good"

"Okay, don't want you getting confused and going to someone else's front door"

"I promise I won't drunk text you again so will you unblock me now? Or if you have a new number you can text me or whatever. Actually you know what, do whatever makes you feel comfortable. Don't listen to me, I'm just blabbing now"

You can't help but giggle at him, the action making Haechan's heart skip a few beats.

"I'm imagining this is how those drunk texts would sound like" you say

"I missed you, Y/N" he mumbles

You don't say anything. He can hear his own heartbeating, each thump like it's the last then you're smiling back at him

"Goodnight, Haechan"

He smiles at you, waving goodbye before finally walking out. He gestures for you to close the door behind him, only leaving after he hears the lock from the other side. He skips back home.

The next few days were back to normal, you weren't feeling gloomy. You were going out with friends. All in all, you're in a great mood.

"Hey, somebody left this outside. Tell me I'm crazy but is this from Haechan?" your roommate hands you over a small bouquet of flowers with a paper bag full of snacks.

"Uh yeah, I think so"

"I know things didn't end well between the two of you, but the boy is still so whipped for you" she mumbles, watching the small smile on your face

"Maybe it's just a peace offering"

"Right, well whatever it might be I say go for it. As long as you're happy"

You look up at her, shocked to hear that all of a sudden "Isn't that what you're worrying about? You really think I didn't notice it, you were listening to Sorry, Heart on repeat the other day then now you're listening to love songs. If he's it for you, then give it a chance"

She left after that, leaving you alone at home.

You take the gifts Haechan sent to your room, putting the flowers in a vase. You see a small note attached,

xx12131xxx just in case you lost it or changed your number. - H

You get your phone and dial the number, it's still in your phone. You unblock it first before you click call, waiting a few rings before you hear his voice

"Y/N?"

"How did you know it was me?"

"I wasn't expecting anyone else, and uh it looks like you didn't change your number"

"Oh yea uhm so you're unblocked now" you told him, not really sure what else to say

He chuckles, "Thanks, so I'm guessing you got the flowers and the snacks?"

"Yeah, thanks by the way. Why though?"

"You shared your stash with me the other night, just wanted to pay you back"

"You didn't have to, I offered. But thanks again"

"Hey uh are you busy right now? or tomorrow or really whenever you're free"

"I don't have anymore classes today"

"Do you want to go grab coffee or food or anything really. Whatever you want, my treat"

If someone told you you'd be going out to get drinks with Haechan, you'd say they're out of their mind. But here you are, visiting a new cafe you've never been to with a guy you thought you'd never be with again.

"I'd get the taro milktea, thanks"

"I'll take this one" he points at the drink in the picture, "And two of the cookies please, thank you" he pulls out his card to pay for the both of you. When you got your drinks and food, you walked back outside to sit on the vacant seats. The weather was nice, it wasn't too hot or too cold. A perfect day to be out.

You open your drink, taking a quick sip while Haechan does the same. You notice he made the face, like when he drinks or eats something sour.

"It's lemon flavored isn't it?" you chuckle, taking the drink from him and giving yours to him instead

"No, it's fine. I'll drink it"

"You hate anything sour flavored, I like lemon it's fine" you sip his drink, it does taste good but you know he won't like it

He watches you get the cookies, breaking it in half before giving him the other.

"If you have anything to say, just say it. You're too in your head again" you tell him

"Sorry, I was just..." he's at lost for words, but this time not for the wrong reason.

It's like his mind can't put what he's feeling in to words.

"Did you get the record you were looking for?" you ask him, changing the topic

"Huh?"

"At the record store"

"Oh I wasn't really buying anything, I was just browsing around. They didn't have the vinyl version of the album I wanted, I'll come back some other time" he tells you, taking a sip of your well now his drink.

"You were singing to the Dreamers, you know them?"

"I know a few songs, Sorry, Heart is good. I like that one"

"Me too. You sounded good when you sang it" you complimented him, this made him smile shyly at you

"Isn't it a bit too sad?" he asks, you shrug your shoulders

"I like it, although my roommate said I've been playing love songs these past few days" you shake your head, remembering what she told you

"Thank you by the way" Haechan suddenly says

"For what? You paid for our drinks"

"I meant for agreeing to get drinks with me. I was an asshole to you. All the time I was gone, I was thinking about how to make it up to you. That is if it's okay with you" he tells you.

He mentally pats himself on the back for not messing that up. Maybe slowly he'll learn how to speak his true feelings, he just hopes you'll be there to listen to him. Even though it took him this long.

"The last thing you asked me was what are we, I was being stupid. I wanted us to be more. I wanted us to be official but I was always scared to say it. I don't know why I was ever scared of committing, I could've been with you. That's my regret"

"Haechan"

"You're not a playtoy to me or just some past time whenever I'm bored. You were never too much for me. If anything I was the one who lacked. I don't blame you for walking away, I deserved that. I needed that so I could finally grow up"

You listen to him. You listen to him finally say the words you've been waiting to hear from him.

"This time I want to do it right, I want to take you out on dates, be there to go on night walks with you, go buy records we'd listen to, whatever you want to I just wan to do it with you. If you'll still have me"

The last words was barely a whisper, like he's scared to say it outloud, scared you might turn him away.

Haechan feels his heart beating wildly again, one day he might pass from arrest he thinks. Then you smile at him and it's like everything in his world stops.

You lean over, kissing the corner of his lip lightly. It was so quick but to him it felt like long time

"All I wanted was that, when it gets too much in your head you can talk to me. I'll listen. We don't have to walk away from each other" you tell him

"I'm sorry" he whispers

"I forgive you, the same way I forgive myself from everything that has happened. We need to heal from those wounds for us to move forward"

He smiles at you, he didn't even notice he got a bit teary eyed until a few tears escaped. He wipes it away before looking back at you again.

You stand up from your seat, holding out your hand to him. He looks at your hand then your face then your hand again before intertwining it with his.

There wasn't a destination in mind, he's probably thinking the same. The two of you just walk where your steps lead you to, with him following beside you holding you close to him.

Haechan looks at your hands, a smile forming on his face. He leans towards you to kiss you on the head, the action making you smile too.

"Thank you" you hear him mumble. You didn't say anything back but he felt you grip his hand tighter. Squeezing it three times.

And he knew everything was finally going to be okay. This time, you won't let go.

[h2llish]

【╰ヾ❝ COULD'VE BEEN ✧„

VIL SCHOENHEIT ── when it could've been ☆ angst, heartbreak, requited feelings, gender neutral, lowercase intended, not proofread

inspired by my fic from me to you

he remembered the moment you came to him, with a smile so sad and ready to be rejected as you gave him a envelope with your handwriting at the top, for vil. with it, a rose wrapped safely in ribbon. by the look on your face and the shyness in your tone as you gave it to him, he could guess what was in the letter tucked inside the envelope must've been important, at least to you. you didn't bother to wait for him to open and read it, you didn't seem to want a response if he did, only apologizing and thanking him before turning away.

rook was with him, with a knowing look that looked a little sad in similar to your smile. he questioned it, but rook brushed him off in rook fashion, telling him it wasn't his place to speak on your behalf. what did he know that vil didn't? the actor wondered silently but trusted his friend despite his question and worry for you.

so vil tucked the letter away and waited till he was alone in his room. as the day ended and he finished his night routine, he sat comfortably on his bed and grabbed the letter.

dear vil,

i've written this letter six times now, and i know that if i continue to read over this, i'll never gather the courage to give it to you. so please excuse how messy it is, and the mistakes you may possibly find.

by the time you get this, i'll be ready to leave for my world. ortho found me a way home, and i wish to return there, even though i'll miss a lot of people here. i'll miss you the most. i'm sorry you had to find out through a letter, a lot of my friends remained unaware, but when you get this, they'll all know just like you.

perhaps you've caught on, but rook was one of the few who knew, he also knew you were going to receive this letter. but, if you are upset at all, please don't be upset with him. i asked him to keep things to himself, he wasn't even meant to know. he was just respecting my wishes.

to the reason of my letter, this is where it might get messy, i hope you understand.

vil, i think you're wonderful, amazing even. while i know how we started off may not have been the most eventful or greatest, you've been respectful. even after you overblot, and forgive me for bringing it up, you've been nothing but kind to me and i thank you. when you offered your own money to ramshackle and then helped rebuild it when it was damaged, i was incredibly grateful.

you work hard, and you care about your dorm. not everyone may see it, but i do vil. you've done your research, have gotten to know everything about your dormmates, and made diets and routines just for them. it shows you really care.

we've gotten close. i care about you, and i think you care about me. we're friends.

but i'll be honest with you, my feelings for you have become more. i'm falling in love with you. i understand if you don't feel the same, i'd feel better if you don't, knowing my feelings were unrequited so i can leave with the guilt of only leaving my friends.

i'll probably be gone by now, and if not, i ask that you don't approach me. i wouldn't be able to keep myself together if you do. i want to go home, nothing will stop me from doing that. i'm sorry we can't have a proper goodbye, but for my own reasons, selfish i understand, i can't face you so this will have to do.

goodbye vil. and thank you for being my friend.

perhaps things could've been different.

sincerely, your friend, [name].

romantic feelings were new for the actor, you were the first person he'd felt anything for. he loved you; he realized as he sat there, hair pulled back neatly and mask on his face. he pinched the end of the letter in his feelings, relaxing when he worried he would tear it.

he respected your wishes in the letter, remaining in his room as he read over the words once more. although it was heavy on his shoulders, he knew even if he had left to confess his requited feelings, your decision would have never changed.

perhaps things could've been different, but you'd always choose your home, and he could not blame you.

patting myself on the back for managing to write something even if it's short. my headaches chilled out again and i took advantage.

do not repost, translate, copy or run my writing through an ai

[letsgetrowdy43]

Heartbreak Hotel—

Quinn Hughes x reader

Warnings: suggestive content (no actual sex) (it's literally only at the end), lmk if there's anything else I need to warn ppl about :)

I live for the angst of it all… I’m also ignoring the 40 requests in my inbox cause I’m lazy so here, to make up for my lack of motivation

Briggs, the Boeser family's two-year-old baby boy bounced on Y/N's knee. Small giggles erupted from him as he played with the sleeve of his favourite aunt's blouse. A smile spread across the woman's face as she placed a kiss on the crown of the baby's head, "so when are you having one of your own?" Charlotte (I did in fact make a fake wife for Brock, so what??) asked with a smug grin as she sipped her coffee.

"We've definitely talked about it," Y/N joked wiggling her eyebrows at Charlotte who let out a laugh, the woman picked up her coffee cup to hide the look of discouragement on her face from her friend.

"Hughes still having intimacy troubles? I thought it would be much easier for him once he married" Y/N's lips formed a straight line as she thought of her husband, "that's definitely not the issue, we decided that we just aren't ready yet" "Ready? Y/N/N, you've been married three years nearly" Y/N looked at her best friend with this knowing look, "I will never understand how your guy's relationship works"

The blonde let out a quiet sigh, "we are just in a strange place right now" she shrugged, bringing her hand up to remove a lock of her hair from baby's hand, "it's not that I'm not ready, I would love to be a mom, but sometimes it feels like he doesn't want to take those next steps" she said with a sad smile.

Quinn's romance and love seemed to be fleeting, his concentration landing more on his life within the hockey world, rather than on his wife. An issue that the two were tip-toeing around, sharing soft kisses and gentle words but only when he was thriving, only when he was accomplishing greatness. If he wasn't blossoming to the level that he felt was acceptable the idea of loving his wife went out the window, and his heart stayed at the rink along with his passion.

As time went on Y/N learned to accept that this was the love that she was going to receive for the rest of her life. She would always fall second to hockey, it was his life and his greatest aspiration, and she could live with that. But sometimes she wished he would just choose her for once.

"That's utter bullshit, he loves you, you know that," Charlotte said with a smile, Y/N just laughed and joked the agonizing conversation away, no longer wanting to speak about it if no one was going to listen to her point of view. "I know he loves me, he married me for a reason" She bitterly smiled and took another sip of her coffee.

"When is Beau supposed to stop in?" "He said he would stop in around noon, so any minute now?" both women stared at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, eleven fifty-five.

Within a matter of seconds, a man walked through the doors and sat in the seat next to Y/N, taking the baby out of her arms and tucking him into him, "hello little man" he said squeezing Briggs' cheeks. "Look at his little smile," he said in a baby voice as he threw the baby in the air and caught him, just to listen to the little boy's addictive giggles. "You two have that same IQ," Charlotte mumbled with disgust, followed by a smirk gaining a fake scowl from the man, Briggs trying to copy the look plastered on the grown man's face.

"My beloved Y/N, where is your grumpy husband, he hasn't been answering my texts all day, I'm having withdrawals" a fake tone of desperation lacing his voice as he batted his lashes. "Both sets of in-laws are in town for my mom and Jim's birthdays this weekend, so we are hosting dinner tonight at the apartment" The woman stole the toddler right out of Tito's hold, sticking her tongue out at him as the little blondie curled up in her lap.

Her eyes wandered over to the clock again, realizing that it would be best if she left sooner than later in order to help Ellen and her mother with dinner preparations. "Speaking of dinner, I should probably head out" She smiled sweetly and placed the tiny human back into Tito's grasp. "I've barely blessed you with my presence and now you're leaving?" the woman nodded, "fake friend!"

"Bye Beau," she pushed his shoulder, ducking down to place a kiss on the toddler's forehead, "bye-bye Briggs," she waved. "No goodbye kiss for me?" Charlotte asked as the woman got up and off of the couch to place a sloppy kiss on her best friend's cheek,

Finally showing herself out as the calls from her mother already began rolling in on things to grab from the store before making her way home.

⭐︎⭐︎

"Y/N, straighten your back, your posture is horrendous" her mother scoffed from behind her as she helped pull her mother-in-law's fresh-baked apple pie out of the oven. "Sorry Mom," she said just above a whisper, adjusting her stance and placing the hot pie on the marble counter.

Quinn walked into the kitchen in search of a corkscrew, he was dressed nicely. A navy button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows leaving his muscular forearms on display.

He was always so carelessly attractive.

His eyes met hers, taking a moment to appreciate her beauty, drinking up her silk-covered silhouette and then flashing her a soft smile. She hated how just the softest looks or gestures could flip her stomach, and wipe her memory of the past few months. Rid him of any blame for why their marriage seemed to be drowning rather than thriving.

"Mom?" he snuck up behind his wife and placed his hands on her hips to kiss her on the cheek, "Dad needs our help in the dining room," and just like that, his warmth was gone.

Quinn was always a gentleman, whether they were in a fight, or hadn't spoken to each other in days he would always greet her with kind words and treat her as if nothing was wrong between them. It was all one big mind-fuck. Although she was starting to believe that he had lost interest in her, he had made that very clear early into their marriage, she would always find things about him that she loved most about him and hold onto those feelings.

It wasn't like that in the beginning though, she didn't always feel the love slipping from between her fingers, it was intertwined in her soul, Quinn's love was her everything. He was gentle and kind, promising her the world. Reminiscing of the life that he had dreamt of with her, but with every seeming day it was as if that dream was washing away.

Y/N couldn't find it in herself to hate him. Even after the long nights of endless fighting, screaming until the only thing she could hear was her heartbeat in her temples. Opting to sleep in the spare bedroom because she couldn't look at him without feeling nauseated. Getting so close to just leaving, walking out the front door and never turning back. But after every heated fight he would come to her at the latest hours of the night and apologize, hot tears streaming down his face as he apologized for raising his voice at her, and she would do the same thing to him.

They were in a constant cycle of tearing each other into pieces and then trying to tape each other back together as if the emotional damage wasn't already in effect.

Dinner started at exactly six sharp, Quinn held Y/N's hand over the table, a small motion that hid their issues with a sweet facade.

"So Quinn, your team is really taking advantage of the playoff push, you guys are killing it" Mr Y/L/N stated, his voice raspy with old age. Quinn's face lit up at the mention of hockey, "The rebuild was really good for us, I'm just hoping to be able to contribute to the push" his wife smiled bitterly, and Ellen sat silently taking in the micro-aggressions that the couple sent each other. "He's so humble," the young woman's mom grinned at her daughter and the rest of the table "You're basically carrying the team love" she smiled sweetly as Quinn denied her claims.

Quinn squeezed Y/N's hand, making her look at him with furrowed brows, "I never got the chance to tell you that you look stunning, that dress is..." And there he was again, making soft comments that rid her of any anger or resentment she was holding against him. "Thank you, you look very handsome as well" she whispered as he leaned forward slightly to place a kiss on her bare shoulder.

The parents sitting around the table completely oblivious to suffering that was silent but present.

"So when are we expecting grandkids?" Ellen said with a grin missing the way that both you and Quinn went rigid in your seats.

There it was, the million-dollar question.

The woman smiled awkwardly and looked up at Quinn as he shrugged, "we're a little young don't you think?" he asked with an unamused expression as he watched his mom shake her head. "I would say twenty-five is a reasonable age" she shrugged and looked over to Y/L/N's mom who nodded in agreeement.

"I mean we are both busy people, and Quinn is always away for work" "You're blaming us not having kids on my lack of presence?" Quinn scoffed and took a sip of his beer. "That's not what I meant, Quinn" She took a deep breath and shook her head, "I just meant that we aren't ready, you've said it yourself it'll happen when the time is right!" she said defensively as she removed her hand from Quinn's and turned her body to face anyone else at the table other than him.

She picked her wine glass up and off the table to finish the remainder in her glass before heading to the kitchen to grab dinner from the oven, her mother-in-law following closely behind.

Ellen walked into the kitchen to see the girl leaning against the counter, her face hidden in her hands as she let the tears flow. "What did my son do now?" the older woman asked gently as she pulled her daughter in-law into her arms.

Ellen Hughes always knew how to fix a situation.

"It's not his fault," she didn't even know how to express their issue in words, sentences getting caught in her throat as she cried into her mother-in-law's arms. Ellen shook her head, "you can't carry all of that baggage sweetheart, let me try to diffuse it" she said dis-attaching herself from the young woman and grabbing a fresh bottle of Pinot Grigio from the wine fridge.

"I'm going to sound so selfish" she mumbled as she pulled the roast out from the oven, "but sometimes I just wish he would pick me, he would choose me over hockey and the team" Ellen's expression softened, "that's not selfish, you just want to be a priority, you already should be his priority," she said quietly pouring herself and her daughter-in-law a glass of wine.

"The same thing happened to Jim and I just after we moved to Toronto, he was so consumed with the Leafs and their development that I carried all of the weight of our family," she said softly, wiping away the girl's tears, "you're not selfish, I just think you need to knock some sense into my son" she smiled, "if you talk, he'll listen, it's one of his greatest attributes" she smiled and grabbed the roast from the counter before heading back into the dining room to serve dinner.

⭐︎⭐︎

Quinn stood behind Y/N in their shared closet, she held hair in her hands as he gracefully unzipped the back of her silk dress. An awkward look on his face as he tried to look anywhere but her almost naked silhouette, ignoring how the fabric pooled at her ankles and left her vulnerable.

"If I say something will you listen to me?" she asked quietly, turning around to see him in nothing but his sweatpants, a sad smile on his face, "I need you to hear me."

She watched as he nodded his head, getting slightly distracted from the way his back muscles flexed as he reached up and grabbed himself a new facecloth. His shoulders were broad and muscular, his face soft. A pair of black wire-framed reading glasses sat perfectly on his nose, his brown slightly out-grown hair messy from running his hands through it. He was so attractive, it almost made her angry how distracted she found herself.

"I want to fix this," he answered shortly with a frown, she slid on a pair of silk pyjama pants, remaining in her bra as he pulled her into his chest, "I love you."

"Do you really though?" she asked tiredly, forehead leaning against his chest as the exhaustion filled her voice. "Of course?" he pulled away, slight panic on his features as he heard the seriousness in her tone. "I feel so unimportant to you lately, I just want to feel like I mean something in your life, like the past six years of my life haven't been wasted on a man who prioritizes everything above me" she confessed.

Quinn opened his mouth to answer but was promptly silenced as she covered his mouth with her hand, "listen," she sighed, her hands now playing with the hair on the back of his neck as she made him look her in the eyes. "I don't think I could tell you the last time that I looked at you and truly felt like you still loved me, you spend all your time with the team, and I'm not mad about that, I'm so proud of all the work you're putting into your dreams," her voice cracked as tears welled in her eyes, "I just want you to make me feel seen, I feel like our dream of a life together is slowly withering away."

Quinn's brows furrowed "I don't underststand," his hands squeezed her torso lightly as he pulled away, "is this because I said I wasn't ready to have kids yet? Cause I know your'e ready, and it seems like everyone around us is ready, I'm just not there yet," a tone that resembled defensiveness laced his voice as he watched the girl wipe her eyes and shake her head. A dry laugh left the girls mouth as she sadly shook her head, "you're missing the whole point Quinn, it's not about wanting kids, I can't remember the last time we talked, or laughed together, or even the last time you genuinely touched me when it wasn't the outcome of a win and a night out with the boys!"

She watched a realization hit him, dawning on him just how much he had been taking her for granted, "I didn't- I don't know?" His face falling as he backed up against the dresser, "I don't know how to make it right" was all he said staring at his wife whose face was puffy and tear covered, wearing an old t-shirt of his and short as she hugged herself.

Y/N knew Quinn wasn't inherently bad, the look of realization on his face showing her that this absence wasn't because he was bored or that he was tired of her, he was lost.

She bent down onto her knees and kneeled in front of him, "I just need you to love me." "I do love you" he reached out and grabbed her hand, "I promise that I've never stopped loving, I never will." "You need to show me that, you need to make it right Quinn, cause I can't stay in a marriage where my husband doesn't acknowledge my existence, and I don't want a life with someone who only needs me around when he's feeling on top of the world" she whispered as she place a kiss to his knuckle.

"I want the good, the bad, and the ugly, and I want it all with you."

He reached forward and wrapped his arms around her to pull her into his frame, "I will make it right," he whispered as he sat her down on his lap, straddling him, his hands finding comfort on the soft flesh of her thighs. "I know you will" she mumbled, feeling like for the first time in a long time he was actually looking at her, actually listening to her every syllable.

His hand travelled up to her hip, nose bumping into hers as he eyed her bottom lip, "can I kiss you?" "Please," she said breathlessly as he swooped in and captured her lips on his, his hands kneading the skin of her thigh as her hands found his jaw line, holding him as close to her as humanly possible.

She pulled away first, her chest heaving, lips swollen as she looked at his hazy expression, "that was a good start," she grinned as he wrapped her body around him, getting up off of the ground and travelling into their room. "My apology hasn't even begun yet" he said smoothly, his lips making their way from her jaw down to her collarbone.

"You do have a lot of apologizing to do" she whispered into his neck as he laid her down on their bed. A small grin on his face as she innocently stared up at him, "don't worry, we have all the time in the world."

-

-

-

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Feeling you 2

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: this was planned as one shot, but the story doesn't let go of me. So as promised Part 2 is ready and there will be Part 3 coming soon if nothing extraordinary happens. You know me already - if there is not a healthy portion of angst it's probably not my story 😉

Warnings: angst, heartbreak

Word Count: 3,6 K

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius@hb8301@zillahvathek@alexagirlie@gemini-mama @verenahx@mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @willowbrookesblog

If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.

Eanflaed's voice, both comforting and irritating, pierced through your consciousness, pulling you back to the dimly lit main room of the old alehouse. “You are dreaming again,” she said. Your friend busied herself at the counter, cluttered with empty ale mugs, and leaned forward on her elbows, waiting for you to wash and refill them.

“You need to put an end to this”, she insisted, striving to capture your attention, though she knew you were hardly in a state to listen. Persistent as always, Eanflaed never ceased trying. You knew she meant only good for you and she was right, and you loved her for that with all your heart. Eanflaed had always been the bastion of reason, a reliable friend in the gravest situations. Someone you deeply trusted.

“You realise he won't come back to you. We've all been through it. Falling in love with a client can’t have a happy ending,” she added, placing her hand on yours, compelling you to pause and meet her gaze.

“I know, and I’m not in love,” you mumbled, averting your eyes as a surge of warmth tinged your cheeks, “I just can't shake him from my mind. It's foolish, but I can't help it. Sometimes, I wish for them to return, and for him to simply overlook me, choosing another for the night. Then, at least, I'd be certain he's forgotten me. It would hurt, but I'd finally know it's over. I'd understand that there was never anything between us in the first place."

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" Eanflaed's voice softened. "When I asked you to hump him, I was just trying to help you get over it, to move forward. He seemed so sweet and somehow lost and I thought that maybe he could snap you out of this funk you've been in since that bastard... well, you know." Eanflaed's words halted abruptly under your stern gaze. "I'm sorry," she murmured, releasing your hand.

You finished filling the mugs, ale frothing at the brim, and Eanflaed quickly picked them up, heading back to the few guests at the tables. You let your palms glide over the rugged and worn surface of the old, cracked wooden counter, feeling its grooves and notches, the sensation under your fingers strangely calming. Noticing an ale splash, you grabbed a rag to clean it up. Keeping busy always helped you stay grounded, stopped your mind from wandering too much. It was a quiet evening. 

It had been half a year since you last saw Sihtric, but for some reason, you couldn't get him out of your head. You just couldn't shake off the memories - that soothing feeling of his warm body pressed against yours, his strong arms wrapped around your naked frame, holding you tight as if he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go, that gentle touch of his lips on your neck, the tickling sensation of his breath against your skin. But above all his big, expressive eyes, the look in them tinged with inexplicable sorrow mixed with youthful eagerness and goodness were etched in your memory. 

He had asked your permission to stay with you, even though he knew he didn’t have to, as Uhtred had paid for the whole night. He had carefully tucked the blanket around both of you, his legs entwining with yours, enveloping you in his presence and leaving no space between your bodies. You could still almost feel his fingers tracing a gentle path from your shoulder down to your palm, interlacing with yours as he whispered a soft “Thank you,” in your ear, and his steady heartbeat coupled with his even breathing had lulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep for the first time in two years. 

Morning had arrived with loud knocks and Uhtred's brusque voice demanding the horses be readied. Startled, Sihtric leapt from the bed, his cheeks colouring as he scrambled to dress, muttering under his breath while struggling with the stubborn laces of his breeches.

You had watched him from the bed's warmth, a strange lump forming in your throat. With each passing moment you realised that this was the end. The end of what? Your mind was harshly insistent there hadn’t been anything. You had humped the young and handsome  warrior. It was nothing special. It was what whores do for money. And you had been in this trade far too long to know it better.

Closing your eyes, you sank back into the pillow,  the last thing you wanted was to watch Sihtric hurry out of the room. You were certain he wouldn't look back. Why would he? But just as you braced for the definitive sound of the door closing, you felt a weight settle on the edge of the bed. Your eyes fluttered open just as Sihtric's lips hesitantly brushed your forehead. 

A shy smile played on his lips. “I have to leave now,” he said, and you couldn't discern if his voice held a hint of regret or sadness, or if it was just your imagination. “Can I… will I see you again, if we… when we return?” Sihtric's voice wavered slightly with his last words. Was it due to the uncertainty of his future, or a genuine desire to see you again? You tried to speak, but no words came out, choked by the lump in your throat. Instead, you just nodded and exhaled sharply as Sihtric's lips met yours in a brief, tender kiss.

You had so much you wanted to say – to wish him luck, to say how much you enjoyed the night with him, to tell him you'd be waiting. Thoughts swirled in your mind, but your voice failed you as you watched him walk towards the door, turning for one last, lingering glance before leaving.

And since then, you waited, though you weren't sure for what. What could you expect if he did return? “Nothing,” your mind whispered, while your heart screamed, “Everything!” Deep down, you knew it was a lost cause. He had probably forgotten you the moment he left town, or at least by the next alehouse with its array of young, charming girls. Yet, each time the doors of the old alehouse creaked open and men entered, your eyes involuntarily searched among them, your heart racing with hope.

"Sigefried's here again, asking for you to join him at their table. What should I tell him?" Eanflaed queried with a teasing grin, returning with a batch of empty mugs.

"Just say I can't," you replied tersely, bracing yourself against the counter with your hands and shooting a challenging look at your friend.

"He's a decent man, and he's taken a liking to you. His wife passed away last year," Eanflaed pressed on, oblivious to your brooding expression.

"That's precisely it. Barely a year since her death and he's already on the hunt for someone new," you retorted sharply, your voice laced with disdain.

"Hey, go easy on him. He's only human, not a saint. And in his defence, he's only had eyes for you. Never once has he chosen another girl here. I think his visits are just to see you," Eanflaed whispered, trying to persuade you. "I'm not suggesting you to hump him. Just be courteous and say hello."

"I'm really not feeling up to it today," you replied, turning away and glancing towards the back chamber behind the counter. "Ealfwin, could you take over? I need a break," you called to the young girl in the doorway, who was surveying the room. She nodded in acknowledgment. You left your apron on the counter, which Ealfwin picked up as you made your way to the door.

You shivered, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin as the cool evening air brushed against you, a stark contrast to the house's cosy warmth. Rubbing your upper arms to ward off the chill, you hesitated before stepping outside. Heading towards the stables just around the corner, you found comfort in the familiar scent of fresh straw and the soft sounds of horses snorting. Leaning against one of the stable poles, you took a deep breath, soaking in the tranquil hush of the approaching night.

The sound of the main door creaking open and footsteps drawing near reached your ears. Without turning, you knew who it was.

"Uh... erm... good evening. Sorry, I hope I'm not intruding," a deep, resonant voice broke the silence as you slowly turned to face the man now beside you, his figure casting a shadow in the light spilling from the alehouse. "I was wondering... about my offer... have you thought about it?" he asked, stepping closer.

You remained silent.

"I realise it might seem rushed, but as I've mentioned, I find you very appealing, and I'm in need of a wife to manage the household and care for the children. My estate isn't large, but it's sufficient for all my needs and more. With me, you wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again," Sigefried spoke with a measured, casual tone, but his words sent a shiver down your spine.

He had calmly and logically presented his proposal a week ago, urging you to consider it. And you had given it thought. The offer was undeniably tempting – a roof over your head, freedom from the worry about which meal you have to leave out today, or about your clothing slowly turning to tatters with no money to replace them. 

It wasn't about love or affection; it was a deal, pragmatic and sensible. It was a polite way of asking you to sell yourself, and the price he offered was more than fair for someone in your position. It was an escape to a different life, one you had often dreamt of – a life filled with esteem and reasonable wealth, a life where you would be attending church on Sundays instead of scrubbing mugs in an alehouse. Yet, in this new life, under the guise of a wife's respectability, you would still be selling your body, just as before. You would still be a whore, only with a different title, and that until your dying day.

Tears began to well up in your eyes as you leaned your head against the pole, closing them. A gentle breeze played through your loose hair, and you felt your fingers tremble as you adjusted your dress, bracing yourself to the cruel truth that there was no other life for you, you were trapped in your own dreams and the cold misery of this world and there was no escape for you. 

"I... I've thought about it," you stammered, your breath quickening with each word. Sigefried reached out, taking your hand in his and gently lifting it to his lips. The confidence in his gaze made you swallow hard. He understood the appeal of his offer, assured in its allure. There was no malice in his eyes, only lust mingled with cold calculation – and that was the final push in your decision, one that had been resolute from the start. You knew this was a choice you might regret.

You parted your lips to speak, but before a word could escape, Sigefried's lips pressed forcefully against yours, eliciting a surprised gasp. You remained immobile, spellbound, as Sigefried's greedy lips moved over yours. Shock rendered you unable to respond, while a growing sense of disgust churned in your stomach, absorbing all your other senses so that you even failed to notice the figure of a young man, halted in his steps, clutching a bunch of flowers, his gaze fixed intently on you and Sigefried.

—-------------------------------------

Sihtric stood motionless, unable to avert his gaze from you and the man who had just proposed to you, now kissing you with such intensity. Time seemed to slow down as he observed you both, completely absorbed in each other, oblivious to the world around. With a concerted effort, he finally managed to look away. His eyes fell to the flowers he clutched, and a wave of heat rushed to his cheeks, flooding him with embarrassment.  Flowers. He couldn't help but think how silly it was to come here with flowers.

His hand opened, letting them slip through his fingers and tumble to the ground, while his eyes followed their swirl in the air before landing in the dirt. An urgent need to escape washed over him, to flee before the overwhelming heaviness in his chest became too much to bear. Stepping over the now-crushed blossoms, Sihtric silently turned and continued his way, each step feeling heavier than the last. Reaching the door, he paused, inhaling deeply to steady his rapid heartbeat, then pushed it open, alehouse's raucous laughter and loud voices hitting him as he entered.

Uhtred and Finan, sitting at a table at the room's far end, were easily spotted, their laughter ringing out.

"Look who's here! Our lovesick warrior," Finan greeted with a teasing smirk as Sihtric approached. "Tell us, Sihtric, did you finally confess your undying love to the alehouse beauty?"

Uhtred placed a cautious hand on Finan’s shoulder, his eyes noting the miserable, lost expression on Sihtric’s face, his cheeks flushing and fists clenching, as he slumped onto the bench, burying his face in his hands.

"I need a drink," came Sihtric's hoarse voice. He reached for the ale mug Uhtred slid towards him. "And... and I need a woman," he added, setting the now-empty mug back on the table with a thud after a couple of hearty gulps. 

Finan's face shifted from amusement to concern as he shared a worried glance with Uhtred.

"What's up? Did you see her?" Finan asked, his tone now serious.

Sihtric tried to speak, but words escaped him as the image of you and Sigefried locked in that intense kiss replayed in his mind again and again, each time like a fresh wound to his heart. He was not angry at you; he was angry at himself for being unable to forget you, to move on from you. 

He had made every effort. He had tried to erase the memory of your deep, sorrowful, yet captivating eyes, and had sought to quell his yearning for your soft, tender touch in the embrace of other women. But nothing had worked. Something about you had ensnared him from the very first moment your eyes met. There had been something so familiar yet intangible in the way you spoke to him, the way you touched him, that lingered in his memory, impossible to shake off and forget. 

He had felt safe with you and he had felt loved. Yes, loved – he had felt a genuine care and acceptance of who he was, emanating from you, a feeling he thought long forgotten and buried together with the only person who he knew had truly cared for and loved him.

He understood that he had no right to expect anything from you, but deep down, he had hoped that unique bond he had sensed – that understanding and shared feeling of each other’s unspoken pain and sorrow  – wasn't just a delusion conjured by his imagination. He longed for it to be real, mutual. This feeling had ignited a relentless flame within him, driving him forward, guiding him in the battle, consuming his thoughts and breathing new life in him. He had never experienced that feeling again, regardless of how young, beautiful, or eager to please the other girls were. This flame had driven him to return to you, it had carried him, made him fight like a madman, spurned him and given him wings to fly. 

Yet he had arrived too late. And even if he hadn't, what could he possibly offer you? How could he rival the proposal he had just overheard? You deserved the security and prosperity that the other man was offering, and he would rather cut his own hand than attempt to deprive you of it, even if it meant leaving his heart bleeding. 

"I'm such a fool," Sihtric finally managed to utter, his hand tightening around the ale mug.

"Hey, that's how it goes sometimes, lad. We tried to warn you, but you wouldn't hear it. She's an alehouse girl, Sihtric. You couldn't have seriously expected her to wait for you for half a year," Uhtred said, placing a comforting hand on his younger friend’s shoulder. 

"Thank goodness there's no shortage of beautiful women around," Finan chuckled, his smile broadening as he watched a group of giggling girls emerge from the back room, making their way to the guests. 

It was that time again and the room was full of freshly arrived warriors, signalling a potentially profitable night. 

—------------------------------------------

Your heart pounded like thunderous drum beats in your ears as you flung open the doors, bursting into the alehouse's now noisy main room.You had been away for no more than half an hour and within this short time the quiet and drowsy alehouse had morphed into a bustling hive, filled with energy and noise. 

Your hands trembled, the vivid memory of the recent moments still fresh in your mind. You had slapped Sigefried with all your might, pushed him away in revulsion, and fled. The image of his stunned, confused expression lingered in your mind – his hands reaching out to you, his voice calling your name, offering apologies. But you didn't look back; you just ran, driven by an overwhelming need to return to the safety of the alehouse, to escape his grasp, to avoid his presence. 

Your gaze swept quickly over the buzzing main room as you made your way to the counter, trying to dodge Eanflaed's sharp glare.

"What took you so long? Where have you been? We're swamped with guests. Uhtred and his men are back, can't you see? I need you here," Eanflaed's words washed over you forcefully. Your heart seemed to leap into your throat as you spun around, scanning the crowded room. Then, you saw him.

There he was, seated at the far end, his laughter cutting through the din and loud chatter, his arm comfortably draped around the waist of a girl you instantly recognised  as Ealfwin, nestled in his lap and whispering something in his ear. Your hands clutched the counter, a desperate anchor as your knees weakened.

Try as you might, you couldn't tear your eyes away. They were fixed on that familiar, handsome face, those broad shoulders, and muscular arms highlighted by his sleeveless armour, pulled in by the sound of his infectious laughter echoing through the room. 

He had changed. That insecure, shy, hunched over and sad-eyed boy, who once tried to stay hidden and mask his true strength, was gone. In his place sat a formidable warrior, exuding confidence and self-assurance, adorned with golden rings on his fingers and armbands around his wrists. 

A soft gasp slipped from your lips as you took in the sight of him, completely unaware of your presence, entirely focused on the girl in his embrace. He cupped her chin with his fingers and drew her into a fervent kiss. Ealfwin giggled, playfully withdrawing from his lips, her fingers tantalisingly trailing down his arm, while her other hand playfully tousled his hair. Sihtric chuckled again, pushed his ale mug aside, and stood up, effortlessly lifting Ealfwin onto his shoulder, making her laugh and wiggle with her feet, as he made his way towards the stairs that led to the upper chambers.

In that brief moment, as he passed by, your eyes locked with his. You felt rooted to the spot, mesmerised by those deep eyes casually glancing at you, flickering with a playful spark, yet showing no sign of recognition.

“Where’s the ale?” a gruff voice from a nearby table cut through the air, as Eanflaed nudged you sharply with her elbow.

“Snap out of it,” she whispered urgently, “Now you know…,” she trailed off, but you were no longer listening. Gasping, you spun around and hurried towards the door. You barely managed to stumble down the few steps as you felt your guts revolting and overcome by the nausea you bent over to vomit the scant contents of your stomach. Time blurred as you stood there, cold sweat beading on your forehead, your body convulsively heaving.

Feeling hands gently gathering your dishevelled hair and steadying your trembling shoulders, you realised it was Eanflaed, preventing you from collapsing to the ground.

"Come on, sweetheart, I'm so sorry," Eanflaed's soft, familiar voice grounded you. You grasped her arms, looking up into her eyes filled with compassion, your own tearful gaze brimming with gratitude as you realised your friend had simply left her bustling alehouse and its demanding guests to be by your side. Eanflaed wrapped her arms around your shoulders, holding you firmly with a strength one would never suspect from her delicate frame, as she gently guided you to sit down on the steps, settling next to you.

“You deserve so much better,” she said, her smile tinged with sadness as she tenderly tucked your dishevelled hair behind your ear. “You're too sweet and kind for this harsh world.”

"Sigefried proposed to me tonight," you managed between sobs, "And I rejected him. I slapped him when he tried to kiss me. I just couldn't stand his touch, or the thought of anyone else touching me.”

“Oh, heavens. It just keeps getting more complicated,” Eanflaed sighed. “You need to rest and get through this night. Things always seem clearer in the morning. Come, I'll get a bed ready for you. And no, you're not going home alone in this state,” she stated firmly, cutting off any weak protest you might have had. In truth, you didn’t have the strength to argue. Nodding in agreement, you allowed Eanflaed to help you to your feet and guide you gently back inside.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

[fangirl-writes]

What Are We? (F-R-I-E-N-D-S Part 2)

John B. Routledge x Fem!Reader

Part One

Warning(s): swearing, angst

Notes: So I've been asked for a part two to this and I wasn't intending to do one, but I was struck with inspiration and since it's been asked I thought I'd might as well deliver. Don't expect a third part or a happy ending here, unfortunately folks.

Summary: In the never ending drama of John B. and Sarah Cameron, we've reached the cheating plot. Angry and heartbroken, John B. seeks out his old "friend" once again.

Getting cheated on sucks.

There was no other way to describe it. No matter how much John B. wanted to rant and rave and scream at the world for putting him in this situation, he truly had nothing to say.

So, he punched Topper. He punched him down until Kie’s dad and JJ pulled him off. And the asshole didn't even fight back.

So, he ran away. Storming off, away from Sarah. Away from the girl he thought loved him.

And, in a twisted, selfish act, he went where he always went when he was hurt.

Up that familiar driveway.

He knew it was stupid. But it was like there was a magnetic pull to her that activated whenever he was upset.

Like he was grasping for even a wisp of what he had before his dad left him. Of what it was like before the treasure hunt began.

He needed her.

He needed her care and understanding. He needed her to yell at him so he could yell back. He needed her to cry so he could remind himself that he was a fuck-up, too.

He circled around to the back of the house and faced the bricks that led up to her window.

The curtain was down, but the screen hadn't been popped back in.

A small bit of hope bubbled in him at the sight. If the screen wasn't back in, maybe that meant she was waiting for him.

John B. crawled right up to the window and tapped their secret rhythm on the glass.

He waited a minute, then two.

When there was still no response, he tried the window, surprised to find it unlocked, and slid it up.

He moved the curtain to the side and poked his head in to find the room dark and empty.

Where was she?

He climbed into the room, nonplussed by the breaking and entering, he was practically an expert at it by now.

"Y/N?" he whispered to the clearly empty room.

He leaned over and turned on the lamp at her bedside table, illuminating the room in a bright orange glow.

The familiar space popped into view, everything the same as it was when he was there last.

Same unmade bed they sat on, same pillows she threw at him...

He sunk onto the bed.

He had so many memories in that room. So many better memories, but now all he can think about it the tears in her eyes.

John B. took a deep breath, blinking back his own tears.

Was it karma? Did he deserve everything Sarah was doing because he'd been such an asshole to Y/N? Was this the heartbreak she felt when he left her?

The door creaked open, and his head snapped up, fearing it was one of her parents.

But it wasn't. It was Y/N.

...dressed really pretty.

She stood there with her arms crossed and a frown on her lips.

"You should really lock your window, some creep could crawl in through it."

She rolled her eyes. "What, you need someone to clean the blood off your hands?"

John B. flushed. "You know about that?"

"Well, I didn't expect you to notice, but I was there. Kiara's actually still my friend, you know."

He dropped his gaze to his hands, realizing that he did, in fact, have blood on his hands.

Y/N sighed, moving into the room, dropping her bag on her desk chair and grabbing a towel from her bathroom before sitting next to him.

"Here."

She held the damp towel out to him, and he took it, wiping his hands off.

"...you look beautiful."

"Don't. What are you doing here?" She snapped.

"I...I don't know," he said. "I just...need someone that understands."

A beat.

Then, “I’m sorry you got cheated on.”

John B. looked up at her.

She wouldn't meet his eyes, the anger still stewing in her, but she'd granted him some levity, considering the situation.

“I guess I sort of deserve it,” he replied. “After the way I treated you.”

Y/N shrugged. “Yeah, but, like, you almost died for her…multiple times. You’d have thought-“

“My dad’s alive.”

Her head snapped to look at him, eyes wide. “What? I thought Ward-“

“I did, too. Guess it didn’t stick.”

“What- John B. that’s amazing…isn’t it?”

He didn’t look like it was amazing. He looked like he was gonna be sick, actually.

“It was…it's supposed to be, but now he’s got me lying to my friends, and he got captured by some guys who’re taking him to South America-“

“South America?”

It was hard to remember that Y/N hadn't been there the whole time. That she couldn't just roll with whatever insane shit he was going through. She truly had no idea what he was talking about.

John B. sighed, pulling on his hair. “Can we just- forget it? For now?”

“Sure,” Y/N said. “So, I’ll ask again. What are you doing here, John B.?”

He raised his head and took a deep breath. “I just came where I always go when I’m hurt.”

She sighed. "Yeah, I guess you do. That's how it was before..."

Before he'd fucked their entire relationship.

John B. wondered if, had his dad never disappeared, they'd be dating right now.

Maybe. But he hadn't gotten his head out of his ass long enough to ask her before it all. And when he got a push, instead of running into her arms, he ran away.

"I didn't apologize for that, last time," John B. said. "I'm sorry I fucked up so badly."

"You really did," Y/N said. "I loved you, you know?"

"You won't believe me, but I loved you, too."

"What changed?"

It was a hard question. One he wasn't even sure he knew the answer to.

"I guess I did."

Y/N looked at her hands. "Did you just...outgrow me?"

That hurt, too. Something that should have been a crazy thought, something that never would have crossed his mind a year ago. Him and Y/N were forever.

Until they weren't.

"I...I guess I did."

John B. noticed her blinking back tears and felt his heart ache.

"Please don't cry," he whispered. "I'm not worth it."

"You don't know," she replied, strained. "You don't know how much I cried when you left. When I thought you died. As much as I hate you for ditching me, I still care about you. A lot."

It made him feel worse, again. She never cried, but she cried over him.

"I know I've been stupid. And selfish. And a horrible guy, but...do you think we can start over? Be friends?"

Y/N shook her head. "Come see me again when you've gotten over this Sarah thing and...we'll see, okay?"

It hurt, the rejection, but he understood.

"Is your phone number still the same?" he asked.

She gave him a confused look. "Yeah, why?"

"Can I call you? I think a late night phone chat is overdue."

She laughed through her nose and he smiled.

"Yeah. I guess that would be okay."

He had so many questions he wanted to ask her. To get to know her again. But now wasn't the time.

He was hurt, she was hurt.

It was gonna be a while before they could get back to how they were, if ever.

God, he'd fucked up so bad.

"You better go before my parents find you," she said.

John B. knew that wouldn't happen. In all the years he'd been sneaking through her window, they'd never as much as come upstairs, let alone come into her room to find him.

But it was her polite way of asking him to leave.

"Okay," he said, standing up, handing her the towel back. "Thanks for...letting me clean the blood off my hands."

"Hey, no problem."

He slid her window back up and threw a leg over the sill. "Seriously, though, lock this? There are freaks in this world."

She laughed again, out loud this time. "Your the only freak who's ever tried to climb in that window, trust me."

It gave him an odd sense of solace in that. Knowing he was the only one she'd snuck in.

It was another selfish thought. But that one he'd let himself have.

"Good night," he said, smiling softly at her.

"Good night, John B. Good luck with your dad."

Oh, shit. He'd actually almost forgotten about his dad. Which was horrible, but he just nodded and slipped out.

Now. How does one get to South America on short notice?

[romanticatheartt]

Do you remember how I said I won't be watching s3? Yes, I'm a lying liar through and through lol my sister said let's watch it and I love watching movies or TV shows with her, and tbh we had a good laugh😭💀

Okay so here are my thoughts:

First of all: KATE AND ANTHONY. Omg they're everything to me!! They were only in one episode but they made that episode theirs. I just love seeing them blissfully happy and living in their own bubble. I'm both sad and glad they were only in one episode. Because I wouldn't put it past the writers to give them some unnecessary drama and conflict. At the same time their screen time was so little... I suppose we can't have it all :')

Francesca. Omg I love her so much. I already loved her from the books but the show? God, she's so cute and beautiful. Hannah played her to perfection and I'm glad she's the new Francesca. Even when you read the books, that's how you imagine Fran's character. Both she and Kate have a special place in my heart.

John... my god John is here. And I'm already too attached to him. I can't- Listen, I know my heart will break when his time comes. The actor was such a good choice for his character and I was on the verge of crying whenever he appeared with Fran. She was always so happy to see him. I never thought two characters/actors could have this much chemistry while sitting in silence. GOD I LOVE THEM and I'm ready for heartbreak :D We still have no Michael but I'll keep hoping for him to appear because my god... Francesca's book is filled with angst I just hope when it's her turn, they do it justice<3

I actually enjoyed Eloise and Cressida. I never thought I'd say this but I did!! I know they made 180 changes about her character in the new season but I don't really care lol I just hope she works it out with Debling so at least she'll be free from her parents.

People keep saying they don't like Eloise this season but she's so much better than me. I would've been so much worse... The first thing I would've done was give Pen's name to the queen but she kept it this whole time and was actually worried about Pen... she was kind enough to a person who ruined her and her family, not once but twice.

There are too many side plots in this season. Like I don't want to be pathetic but we've been saying that since s2 and y'all called us delusional and said to be grateful because it was more than enough. But now that I see even Polin fans have a problem with this season makes me so happy and sad at the same time. Because when this happened to your favs, it's a real issue...

I love LD and QC friendship so much!! And QC & Brimsly. These friendships were more shaped since QC spin-off and I really enjoyed it.

It's obvious to me that they don't know what to do with Ben's plot lol. Because creating these unnecessary original characters is doing a disadvantage to the whole show. I really hope we see Sophie this season. 

Okay I've avoided the inevitable as much as I could lol so let's talk about the main couple:

They have no chemistry. I know some might not agree with me but there's no chemistry for me. It has always been like this since s1. At least I don't feel anything special between them. Nicola is a wonderful actor and is carrying the whole ship on her shoulders and I said what I said. 

Luke wasn't good at portraying Colin at all. He has no charisma and is trying too hard. I'm not talking about his character wanting to be something he's not but talking about the acting in general, so don't come for me with that argument. They really tried to make him like Anthony but failed miserably. Which is sad because even tho I haven't read their book, he in other books was absolutely my favorite side character. Me and my sister were laughing our asses off at some of his actings like sir... pls don't😭 I'm being super mean omg

The pacing of their relationship was weird. When he proposed to her I was so shocked like in episode 4? Already? Then I remembered in s1 we had the same situation but in s1 it felt right. It wasn't weird or felt too soon or too late, it was right. With Polin, everything felt out of order. I think they didn't want to focus much on building it up because they felt they already did in the past 2 seasons but it just felt off in the end. They weren't even together much on screen to feel like it's building up!! There was no arc or if it was, it was too subtle that if you blink you'll miss it.

The other problem with their plot was the similarity between s1 and s3. Simon was trying to help Daphne to find a husband and Colin is doing the same thing. Except s1 main trope was Fake Dating and s3 was Friends to Lover.

Which brings me to another reason why I didn't like s3. Friends to Lovers trope. Honestly, this is a me problem. I've never liked this trope at all. I really tried to change my mind about it, like reading books with this trope but most of the time I'm left unsatisfied or hating the book. Unfortunately, s3 was no different. This trope always comes off as unpassionate for me. Which I think it's the trope. Because it's supposed to be cute and subtle and I'm not sure it's really my thing. So I guess the major reason for my dislike of this season is the trope.

There were 2 fkn scenes of Colin participating in a threesome... That was so fkn bad like I can't believe this just happened. And one of them was after he kissed Penelope... I don't care that he didn't continue but... OUGH it gave the ick so bad, I didn't even watch it,  just fast-forwarded it.

That carriage scene was okay-ish? It didn't leave me breathless like the Kanthony scenes did. Tbh s2 left me in a shamble with how much emotions I felt with those two. But with s3, I had the exact opposite feeling toward the main couple.

Anyway, I think this season, revealing LW's identity was their priority which is why they weren't so focused on the romance (?) idk but I feel like part 2 won't be any different than part 1 and they're gonna throw some sex scenes to make it up for the romance lol

ps: I know I said s4 will be Benedict's and I still think it will be but if they decide to make it Francesca's? Oh, I wouldn't mind at all!! 

[grandlinedreams]

Ok, so reincarnation/soulmates? Reader ate some fruit that basically has them living forever, and the only thing keeping them going is knowing that Law will eventually be reincarnated every decade or so after he passes. Each time he meets our dear reader again he can FEEL a pulling.

Reader also has a collection of pictures/memorabilia to remind her of each of Law’s lives.

YES I am such a sucker for the "souls intertwined so completely that they find each other over and over" also listened to 'The Moon Will Sing' by the Crane Wives bc it slaps and its always applied to that kind of relationship so OUGH

[Heads up!: mention of reincarnation/multiple lives, angst if you squint, but mostly some fluff]

You've known him for a very long time.

You don't tell him that, you never do ㅡ you can't. All you do is let yourself orbit towards him the way he does to you, let yourself take comfort in the time you have with him, however fleeting.

It isn't like you have a choice. And even in the darker times where you have to be without him, endure that lonely, phantom limb of an ache ㅡ you take solace in combing through the things you've kept of this go around.

A pendant, a dried flower pressed between the pages of a book, pages yellowed by the years ㅡ little scraps that keep you grounded, keep you sane.

Time has forgotten you, cursed you to stand against the current of it ㅡ you see people come and go, make new names for yourself, sink into as best you can.

But you never forget him.

ㅡ

This time, his name is Trafalgar Law.

He doesn't remember you, he never does ㅡ as is the deal ㅡ and he's already been through so much by the time you meet him.

His eyes are bright and sharp even for the perpetual shadows beneath them, body inked with tattoos that make you wonder if he knows he's had them before, different symbols but same spots ㅡ little pieces that echo through the vast emptiness of time.

Having lost so much already, you can tell he fights that familiar pull, treats it with wariness and caution. You don't push him, let him take things at his own pace.

When you've lived as long as you have, you have patience in spades.

ㅡ

"You're sure we've never met before?"

It's bothering him, the odd tickle of deja vu that he feels when he looks at you. It lingers like an image on the edge of his periphery, fleeting and gone when he tries to focus on it.

"I doubt it," you say, "I was born on a different sea." It isn't a lie ㅡ he just doesn't need to know how long ago that was. "I've never met you in my life before now."

Another not quite lie ㅡ this version of him is entirely new to you. New and yet so much the same ㅡ as he always has been, over and over.

You regard him with a little bit of sadness, Law realizes. Bittersweet and tucked at the edges, like you know something he doesn't ㅡ and only when you think he doesn't know you're staring at him. Because when he looks at you properly, all you do is smile.

And despite it all, Law lets you in. Lets you smooth the ragged edges, lets you wiggle your way in where he swore he'd never let anyone be ever again.

Law thinks he's destined to lose people, and maybe that's true ㅡ but so are you. You know that your time with him is fleeting as it ever is, between one blink and the next.

And then you'll be alone for a while, tread the waters of time as you have before, let the current take you where it needs to. Then you'll find each other again, eternally bound to each other by forces outside the control of either of you.

You've loved him a hundred times, and you know you'll love him a hundred more and beyond that ㅡ but this version of him is your favorite, you think.

And for whatever time you're allowed this go around, you'll give him every bit of love that you can, all the flaws and hurt and heartbreak ㅡ all of it.

You'll love every bit of him as you always have, and you always will.