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strawurberries · 11 months

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Oh my god! Berry I had an idea and I had to come running to you with it cause I thought you'd enjoy it too (and cause your writings awesome) but,

A Soulmate AU where you can hear the other person's thoughts?

With Vash, Wolfwood and nai please! (Separate obviously cause I honestly think having all three as soulmates would just be too much xD)

Whether headcannons or a little scenario thingy I leave up to you 😁

Hope you have an awesome day! - 🍰anon

Soulmate Head cannons

Summary: Head cannons with little drabbles about Soulmates <3

Authors Note: I'm sorry this took so long! Finals are finally over so I can focus on writing :) I hope you all enjoy!! Also I wouldn't mind having all three as soul mates. . . but ya know 😂

Warnings: Self-hate, mild sexual themes, angst, cursing, mentions of religion and murder.

Vash didn’t know what an ocean looked like—deep, painfully blue, and so cooling yet full of dangers unimaginable—but he assumed it had to be something similar to the sight before him: sand dunes rose and fell like the chest of some great giant, tumbling across the horizon without thought or remorse. Compared to the vastness of sand before him, he was nothing but a speck of dust—smaller than the grains of sand that covered this desolate, prison-like planet. Part of him was comforted by that fact, knowing that in the grand scheme of things he would be nothing but a passing memory—no one out there to judge him, hurt him, or even see him. Yet he also hated the loneliness of it all. Looking out and seeing no life but himself, it only served to remind him what he was.

Vash the Stampede:

“Shit!”

He paused, feet sinking into the dry sand below. A semi-cool wind hit the back of his neck. “Hello?” his voice echoed out into the world around—hello. . . hello. . . . . hello. Nothing responded and he adjusted the strap over his shoulder. He must really be losing it now. He had suffered from heat stroke before, had experienced delusions, and been near deaths’ door due to the pounding suns above, so, unfortunately, he knew what might be happening.

He stood still for a moment, longer. . . nothing. Okay, perhaps this was a one time delusion and he’ll be fine.

“How the hell am I going to get out of this alive?!”

He whirled around, looking for any sign of life—the person of whom the disembodied voice belonged to. After a moment he confirmed his suspicions. There was no one around. He groaned and covered his face, thinking to himself: “the heat must be getting to me. . .”

“What?”

He blinked, “What?”

“Who are you?”

“Who are you?” he yelled out into the vastness of the desert. No one responded. “What the hell?”

“Great! I’m getting shot at and I’m hallucinating!”

“What is happening right now?!”

“You tell me! You’re the voice in my head!”

“No, you’re the one in my head!”

The first time you two met—and by that, I mean: the first time you two heard each other—was a mess. You were busy running for your life, and he was wandering through the emptiness of a sandy sea. Both of you, due to different reasons, thought you were going insane. You thought the adrenaline of the situation finally made you snap, and that this run-in with danger took the last bit of your sanity. Vash, on the other hand, swore the heat was out to kill him again and he ignored you for the most part—no use in talking to a delusion. It was only after you both reached safety and had a night's rest, that you both came to realize this was something more than hallucinations.

“Uh. . . so. . . are you real?” Vash thought to himself as he washed his face in the sink, the morning sun starting to make the hotel room feel like an oven.

“Of course I am! . . . are you?”

From then on you two talked a lot, and bonded immensely considering the other’s deepest, darkest and most intimate parts are on display.

Vash tried desperately to keep the fact that he’s a plant and an outlaw a secret, but simply thinking about how he wanted to not think about it, made him think about it. And, therefore, you heard it all within the first five minutes of knowing him.

“You’re Vash the Stampede! The humanoid typhoon?!”

“Uh. . . no?” He thought about how stupid of a lie that is.

“I can hear your thoughts, Vash! You can’t lie!”

“Aw man I forgot!”

Really, Vash was terrified at first. Having someone able to hear his thoughts? It meant his act, his silly persona, was useless. He was laid bare in front of a person he didn’t know, had never seen, and wasn’t even sure if they were 100% real. No matter what lie he constructed, the truth would be sitting somewhere in his thoughts; easy to access, and even easier to talk about considering there was no way to ignore each other.

“Vash?”

He didn’t want to talk today. A mother had been killed, he had been shot in the shoulder, and ran out of town faster than he had ever known was possible. Sitting by himself in a crude rock formation, miles from any town with the moons shining down on him with pity. He wanted to be alone—to wallow, and think, and cry, and grieve for what was lost and what could never be.

“Vash, I know you're throwing a pity party right now.”

He wiped some tears from his eyes, watching the stars.

“Vash, Vash, Vash, Vash, Vash, Vash—come on! I know you're hurting, but it wasn’t your fault. Nothing is. The whole space ship thing? Not your fault. Your brother? He’s his own person, you can’t control his actions—his decisions aren’t on you. The deaths? Inevitable, Vash. Everyone dies someday.”

“But they died because I was there!” He hated showing this side—the pain, the anger, the grief. He didn’t deserve to feel this way. His life, the wandering and suffering, was his punishment for failing to save the people he loved. He didn’t deserve comfort.

“When I finally meet you, I’m going to slap you upside the head before giving you the biggest hug you’ve ever felt.”

He blinked. “Eh?”.

After the rocky start, the weird emotional trauma bonding, and the insecurities—Vash fell hard. Having someone who could peer into his very soul? It, despite feeling so terrifying at first, made him feel so understood and. . . safe. This person has seen the very worst of him, the bottom of the barrel, and yet they chose to keep on talking to him. And, of course, normally Vash would take those emotions to the grave. He doesn’t deserve love. Whoever loves him, whoever he loves, will end up dead. But those thoughts, quite literally, are destroyed the moment they are given tangible sound.

“I love you too, so I need you to stop thinking that I shouldn’t. Even if you keep running away—” despite the fact that he so desperately wants to meet you he’s terrified you’ll get hurt, and runs away the moment you're in a hundred mile vicinity—“I’ll still love you. And one day I’ll find you Vash. I promise that.”

He sobbed for about an hour straight after that.

He really does want to meet you, it’s the truth, but he needs to confront his fears before he can enjoy your love without guilt.

Wolfwood:

Wolfwood couldn’t fall asleep. The lull of the bus hadn’t hit him yet, the rocking and groaning metal not a lullaby but a shrieking reminder of how far away from civilization he is. Usually he’d be passed out by now, cigarette limply hanging between his lips, but he had opted to twiddle with it between his fingers. The smoke curled around his palm, lazily rising up into the musty air of the bus. No matter how long he closed his eyes for, how many sheep he counted, or how he positioned himself, he couldn’t reach the comforting arms of sleep. Eventually he gave up, annoyed that everyone else on the bus—excluding the driver himself, thank god—had managed to peacefully drift away into their dreams.

“I’m tired. . .”

He blinked and chuckled quietly, “you and me sister.” He turned away from the window, taking a small drag of his cigarette as he turned to see who had spoken. A lady across the aisle looked at him, tilting her head. He gave a small wave and she turned away quickly.

“Rude,” he thought for a moment before sighing. Maybe he should try to go to sleep again.

“Hello?”

He blinked and looked around. Surely someone must be sleep-talking. Right? “Wish I could be sleeping,” he looked around once more, eyes lingering on the lady across the aisle who was now starting to doze off. “This sucks.”

“Okay, I’m hallucinating now. God damn it. I knew that I shouldn’t have eaten that sandwich.”

He turned around, looking behind him, and then back to the front where the bus driver was humming a song to himself. “What. . .?” Pure confusion was all he felt. Earlier he had spent several hours in the sun, but the heat couldn’t have gotten to him this bad. . . right? Right?

“Oh God, please make this food poisoning death quick. I’m not into pain.”

Sleep deprivation must really be getting to him. This is going to be a long ride.

Chaos. Absolute chaos.

Part of Wolfwood thought for a moment he might be getting possessed—he tossed that idea aside quickly but he did consider it for a moment before shaking his head. The other option, he thought, would have to be that the stress of trying to find the Humanoid Typhoon finally caught up to him, and he’s in the middle of a psychotic break. But he remembered hearing that you can’t be aware that you’re in psychosis so. . . where does that leave him?

“Has God really forsaken me this time?” he grumbled, stumbling off the bus and waiting for someone to toss the Punisher down to him.

“I hope not!” came the voice again, “I already have bad luck. If god hates me then I’m really a goner.”

Both of you came to the conclusion fairly quickly that there was no demon or god involved, nor were either of you dying or having a breakdown. Wolfwood, unlike Vash, accepted the situation a lot faster. He was confused and apprehensive at first, after all, no one likes showcases their true, intimate selfs—but he got over it fairly quickly. If this was what fate had given him, he would accept it. After all, it didn’t seem to be too horrible. What’s the matter with appreciating the good things in life?

When he gets bored he’d just stare off into space and annoy you—doesn’t matter what you're doing, or what he’s supposed to be doing. He’ll call your name over and over and over, or start preaching until you tell him to shut up. Sometimes, though, he will start talking about the dirtiest, strangest things you’ve ever heard of until your interest is piqued or until he can hear a reaction from you. Either way, no matter what method he chooses, you’ll eventually be talking to him.

“Here’s another quote, ‘Give your burdens to the lord. And he will take care of you. He will not permit the godly to slip and fall. Psalm 55:22’. You know, personally, I’ve always thought that bible verse—”

“Please shut up. I will literally kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try, Doll.”

His favorite pastime is annoying you, making you flustered, or straight up saying the most out of pocket shit you can ever imagine. And, the funny thing is, you always know what he’s trying to do yet he still manages to get a reaction. It doesn’t matter if he spends several minutes brainstorming before saying what he wants, and it doesn’t matter if you try and prepare yourself, he is a master at being a cocky, loveable bastard.

He does hate when you manage to get him to talk deeper about himself, when you bring in the comfort and philosophical talk. Deep down he knows this life isn’t something he wants to partake in, he doesn’t want to go down the path that has been chosen for him, but what other option does he have?

“You don’t have to kill.”

“How am I supposed to survive if I don’t? This world is built on blood, and one person trying to make it better isn’t going to do shit.”

“Well, I actually think it’s two people trying to make it better. Can’t say I’ve ever killed anyone.”

He was slightly salty when he got that response.

He didn’t fall first here, but he most certainly fell harder. His heart is a little petrified, and he often lets people in, but only deep enough to where they feel accepted yet can’t glance at anything too important. It’s like if he invited you over to his home, showed you the kitchen and living room, but kept every other door locked and closed. Yet you had the key and essentially broke every lock in one go. He still doesn’t know if he hates or loves it.

He also desperately wants to meet you but, like Vash, he’s terrified you’d get hurt. But his love and desire outweigh his nervousness and, besides, he’ll protect you with everything he has. If he must die for you, so be it. So, the moment he is sure of himself he asks where you are. And, of course, you knew this was coming, and he knew you knew, and you knew he knew you knew. Make sense?

“Do you want to meet in person?” he thought about how much he wanted to see them, feel them, hear them with his ears not with. . . his mind? He wasn’t really sure how this whole thing worked.

“Of course! How could I deny you when you’re practically begging?!”

“Begging? You haven’t seen me beg yet. . . and now that I think about it, I haven’t seen you beg either. That must be a pretty sight, huh?”

Bastard. He’s a bastard.

Million Knives:

Knives were pissed. No matter how loud he played the piano, or how many plants he surrounded himself with, he could not get that annoying little song out of his head. A solemn, lonesome hum that echoed through his mind like nothing he had ever heard—and it infuriated him beyond anything he had ever known. At first he had assumed it was the sound of the pipes, the mechanical building breathing with man-made life, but once he found himself in the desert, alone, he knew that wasn’t the case. It crossed his mind for a moment, a moment, that he might be having some mental issues but he quickly tossed that idea out the window. He could never have any problems like that, never.

He brushed his fingers along the piano keys, thinking of problems past and future, thinking of what is to come and how he should deal with it all. His own thoughts, he noticed, almost drowned out the humming; that was, until, a voice blew through his troubled mind.

“Woah, you’re a plant?”

He whirled around, ready to mame and kill whoever had managed to infiltrate his base. . . but no one was there. “Come on out now!” he seethed, “and I’ll make your death painless.”

No response but the clacking of gears and the hiss of steam.

“Audacious human,” he spit out in his mind, already thinking of different ways to kill whoever dared to address him. He began to stalk the room, eyes snapping from one corner to the next. “They can’t hide long. I’ll find them.”

“Why are you so violent? Geez. . . well, I mean I guess it makes sense but don’t you get tired of being angry all the time?” The voice trailed off and began humming that infuriating tune. A vague thought that wasn’t his came to the forefront of his mind, wondering if it was worth eating the stale bread or if he should—wait no, not him because this isn’t his thoughts—they should wait until they get paid tomorrow to eat.

He ignored the mundane thoughts and confronted the voice in his head, “you’re the one who’s been singing that idiotic song?!”

“Wow, you’re rude too. Who would’ve guessed?”

The conversation devolved very quickly after that.

To be honest, you’d be found very, very quickly. Unlike Vash, Knives won’t avoid you; and unlike Wolfwood, he won’t wait until the time is right—he’ll rush off into the desert and hunt you down in less than a week. Finding a stranger is surprisingly easy when you have infinite access to their thoughts. At first he was angry and only wanted to find you so he could cut your head off, but soon—despite his hatred for admitting this—he found you interesting.

“I’m coming to kill you, and you’re not worried at all?”

“I’ll die someday, and besides, I think I’m starting to charm you.”

“I will rip you apart.”

“Sounds sexy.”

You infuriate him on so many levels he doesn’t even know where to start.

Actually, he does know where to start. You peer into his mind and learn everything about him and oh my god that pisses him off because now a human—a mere human!—knows everything about him: his trauma, his fears, his past, his brother. And he has now way to stop you from learning about him. Out of pure spite, though, he tries his best to learn nothing about you. . . but that plan fails quickly.

“I’m going to kill myself!” you cry out in your mind, rage edging at the tone of your words.

“Please don’t, it’ll take the joy out of me torturing you.”

“I’m already being tortured! My boss sucks! Ugh! I’m going to kill him!”

He has a tiny, second-long urge to say he’ll kill the man for you before he literally gags with disgust. He had never been so glad someone was distracted because if you had focused on his intentions in that moment you would have teased him until he showed up on your doorstep and killed you.

Over the course of the couple days he spent tracking you, he unwillingly came to be invested in your life and found a small amount of joy when he debated with you.

“Humanity sucks, yes, but we can be good!”

“It doesn’t matter if you can or can’t. What matters is what you’ve done, and what you’re doing. Your potential means nothing when compared to the damage you’ve done.”

“. . . damn it why are you smart. Also, I didn’t do anything! I was just born!”

“That’s a sin in itself.”

“Okay, well, gotta call you out on that one. Being born is not a sin, also, what are you? A preacher? Jesus Christ!”

“Don’t use his name in vain.”

“What?”

After he gets over his initial repulsion and hatred he finds the look into human life interesting. You’re pitiful, weak, and disgusting yet you still push on. Why? Why? Why?

“Why not?’

“It’s useless.”

“So?”

“So. . .?”

“I got you, the great Knives, tongue tied? Wow, I can die happily now.”

Overall, it takes a while for him to fall for you. At first it’s purely rage, and then it’s curiosity, and then. . . maybe he’d call it interest. He wouldn’t fall first and he wouldn't fall that hard, but he’d still appreciate you in some capacity.

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aphroditesswan · 4 months

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Thanks!

So I have a black butler idea that you probably won't like cause it is sabciel BUT it's completely platonic like it's a father figure situation and not romantic at all

I was thinking about Ciel having a nightmare and waking up and screaming or something and sabastian helping him calm down and stuff? I'm really bad at explaining things

little person

ciel & sebastian

warnings: night terrors, sebaciel shippers dni i will actually starting rolling around on the floor if those nasty proshippers start following me

summary: ciel has always woken up from nightmares, usually falling asleep just a couple minutes later, but this time was slightly different.

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff ish

notes: i honestly did not know how to write this but this pushed me out of my comfort zone n it was so fun ALSO SORRY IVE BEEN LATE TO GET TO REQUEST my personal life is extremely busy, especially with family and school but i have this and another fic coming in 🙏🙏

Being the Earl Phantomhive wasn’t easy. The only (living) person who could speak from experience is of course the Young Earl, Ciel. He hadn’t much experience, but he was determined.

Determined and had his own help.

Restless nights were nothing to Ciel. Ever since his parent’s passing, waking up in a cold sweat is nothing new to him. In fact, he’s rather surprised if he manages to get a good nights rest.

He’s tried everything you could think of. Counting sheep, glasses of warm milk and tea to relax him, going through immense activities throughout the day to tire him. These all do nothing but make him wish for the bed that he so dreads sleeping in every night and curses in the morning.

Now was one of those nights. Thrashing, shaking, shivering, throwing around the blanket, tossing and turning in every way he could on the ginormous mattress in a room that didn’t belong to him a couple years prior.

His late parents room was a drastic change from his own.

It was certainly larger. Which meant more space. More cold, empty space that he never knew how to fill. Being head of the household wasn’t easy, you weren’t a child anymore, you had no reason to fill your desolate room with little toys and fun nicknacks from various corners of the world.

This nightmare, this one particular nightmare, haunted him like no other. One where he watches his parents, his home, everything he’s ever known burn to the ground. He dreads this dream, he waits eagerly for his body to wake itself up like it usually should. But it never does.

He continues to watch his home burn and collapse, the smoke from the flames going into his lungs and making it hard to breathe, even in the dream. He can feel himself choking, gasping for air, sweating and panicking with every crackle of the oversized fire engulfing his manor.

Suddenly, his world started shaking. His body, the trees around him, the entire scenery in his dream.

Then he woke up. Finally, he thought. He was sweating, the chill of his still cold and empty room not providing any aid to his already chilly state. But he felt a hand on his shoulder, a gentle one akin to his father’s.

“Young Master,, are you alright? You seem a bit shaken up.”

He looked over, squinting his eyes to see the figure of his butler looming over his bed with a candle where he sat.

“I’m,, I’m fine Sebastian.” He whispered out, for a moment forgetting this was his own manor where he could do what he wanted and speak how he wished.

“Come with me, Young Master.” Sebastian stood up straight, walking a bit then turning to face the boy, waiting for him to get up and follow suit.

For some reason, he wanted to, and he did. He stood up and walked behind Sebastian, following his own butler all the way down his own stairs. Sometimes he couldn’t believe that this was all his, that all of this was now under his name, not his father’s or grandfather’s or even a distant uncle’s. This was all his.

He found himself in the kitchen. Looking around, watching Sebastian pouring a glass of warm chamomile tea.

“Sebastian you know that’s no use.” He scoffed, all of this just a waste of time to him. “Now My Lord, we might as well try.”

The young earl took the cup reluctantly, drinking just a bit of it. He felt his butler just gazing at him, so he drank more out of pure awkwardness. Not because he wanted to, not because he butler had graciously added sugar to his tea, not because he had faith he wouldn’t go to sleep just to wake up to another nightmare, but because his butler annoyed him with the staring.

“There. Are you satisfied?” “Are you?” That was unprompted. What did that even mean? Ciel took a minute, just staring down into the cup with the tea leaves. Supposedly, they could read your future. He didn’t see much, he wasn’t trained in that field. He had also never believed in superstitions, even though an entire being whose existence defies humanity was standing only 3 maybe 4 feet in front of him.

“Yes Sebastian, I am. Now take me to bed.” He huffed, setting down the cup onto the counter. “Are you positive, young master?” “Don’t question me, Sebastian.”

“As you wish, my lord.” He walked Ciel up the stairs, following two to three steps behind him with a candle and standing by the door once he got to his room.

“Good night, my lord.” “Good night, Sebastian.” Ciel laid down, turning away from the door where Sebastian stayed for a moment, only a moment, before placing the candle down on the dresser. He bowed, although Ciel couldn’t see it, and shut the door. Ciel listened for the footsteps, hearing the clicking of shoes descend the stairs. He sat up, looking at the candle through the corner of his eyes. He wondered how such a small flame, something so minuscule compared to his still small stature, could take away everything he had ever known. He was there when his parents had passed, and there will be someone to watch him die as well.

im so sorry my req have been taking so longgg i’ve been so busy with christmas shopping and finals and studying but consider this and another fic that’s coming out BEFORE CHRISTMAS as a present 🥲🙏

#black butler #black butler fluff #black butler angst #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #do not tag my post as sebaciel #sebaciel dni #dadbastian #our ciel #kuroshitsuji

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lostusagis · 2 months

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Siblings

''Why are you here?''

Her brother's question annoyed Kagura immensely. Was he REALLY asking why she was visiting her own mother's grave? He really had the audacity.

''She's MY mother too you know, you're not the only one allowed to visit her.'' Arms crossed over her chest as she shoots him a glare. It was sheer coincidence they decided to visit at the same time.

''What, you didn't want anyone to see you being a big crybaby?'' The comment made Kamui twitch in irritation, immediately grabbing his younger sister tightly by the collar of her clothing. Forced smile as he was really tempted to punch her lights out. However, eventually the smile fades before he heaves out a sigh.

Letting her go, he turns away from her. Kagura was right though, he didn't want anyone to see the kind of person he turned into whenever he came here.

He only glanced away from her direction as his sister placed down flowers beside the ones Kamui and their father already left.

Kagura was crouching down, staring at the tombstone. Her features sadden, it definitely was always hard coming here. But her mother was someone she'd never forget. Even if Kagura was really young when losing her.

''You miss mami a lot, don't you Kamui?'' Kagura asks, and to no surprise she was met with silence. Ever since they were kids, Kamui always had this habit of putting on a brave face. Hiding his injuries, keeping everything inside, he never asks for help, even now.

He kept stubbornly standing a few feet away, not wanting to look in her direction. Kamui was obviously waiting until Kagura left, since he wanted to be alone. He didn't want to reveal any of the emotional turmoil building up inside.

However, Kagura was persistent. She looked over at her older brother, then standing up from where she had crouched down. Footsteps came closer, and eventually arms were wrapped around him.

''It's okay to cry, stupid. Stop keeping everything inside.'' Her embrace took him by surprise, and it was tight, unwilling to let go anytime soon. Kagura teased him by calling him a crybaby but she wouldn't actually think any less of him if he actually did decide to show his emotions more openly for once.

Hell, even if he had already cried on her lap during their last battle against each other, she still didn't think less of him. Kagura only knew he must have kept that pent up for a while.

''No one else is here, you don't have to play the mean, evil space pirate you always do in front of those other guys.'' Despite everything, she still loved Kamui a lot, that would never change. She also knew he felt the same, he was just too embarrassed to admit it.

Eventually, she did feel her brother's arms wrap around her in return. Had she been anyone else, the strength in his grip very well could have crushed her.

His face buried into her neck and he just... starts crying.

Kagura was surprised, expecting him to be more stubborn and keep it bottled up. Yet here he was now, trembling in her arms crying like a little boy. Regardless, she kept hugging him. Her hand gently strokes his head, trying to bestow some comfort. Kagura remembered well how Kamui liked being coddled by their mother and tried to imitate that in some way.

He was holding on so tightly to her, honestly she felt an aching in her chest. Sure, they had been apart for a while until only recently but it made Kagura wonder.

Did he have anyone else he could confide in like this?

Did he just keep everything constantly bottled up?

Kamui was not someone who liked opening up to others, so her chest really ached thinking about how much he was hurting, pretending he really had emptied himself of all attachments.

If he actually did, he would've already killed her by now.

''Hey, wanna know something? I bet mami is really happy you decided to be part of the family again.'' Her hand kept stroking his head as Kamui clung onto her,

''She's looking down on us right now, smiling, happy that we're able to be like this together. She's really proud of you, even if you did some stupid stuff in the past. You still came back, and that's what matters.''

He hadn't actually responded, since he was still weeping in her arms, however her words really did mean a lot.

It also meant a lot to Kamui that Kagura basically stood there with him the whole time until he stopped crying, and never made fun of him for it either.

#DRABBLES. Kamui #DRABBLES. Kagura #( ooo oooo yato sib angst)#( i love them dearly ok )

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olderthannetfic · 1 year

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As a reader mostly (i have A chapter of A Single abandoned work published lol) I go through waves of really enjoying commenting and being scared shirtless of commenting and it's immensely frustrating for me, honestly. I love the idea of commenting, the idea of getting to tell an author what i thought, what I felt, what I thought stood out or was particularly interesting, any theories I have. The idea of being wrong about a theory though, or saying something i thought was kind but hurts their feelings, or being seen as a nuisance for leaving too many short meaningless comments, or leaving pointless comments on fics that already have comments better than I could ever leave scares me stupid and paralyzes me from commenting for awhile until I get my head back under control. Or the big one, sometimes I get really excited for a fic while it's being written, and I make a point out of leaving a Good Comment on every chapter--and then the author takes a step back for a few weeks, and I take a step back, and when they come back either my interests have shifted somewhat or, more often, I'm back in a having-trouble-with-words state and suddenly I can't leave those comments anymore. I just can't string the sentences together. So I don't read the new chapters because the author doesn't deserve to suffer because my words just won't come. And I don't read the new chapters and I don't read the new chapters and suddenly there's a dozen chapters and im sitting here unable to read any of them because I Must Comment and they Must Be Good and I can't fucking do it and I just /wallow/ in being an awful commenter. This has happened about a half dozen times. I don't know what to do about it honestly. I'm afraid of offending authors. I'm afraid of doing well, backing off, being unable to perform as well as I did before and Thus disappointing authors or making them think I'm insincere. I'm afraid, terribly afraid, of being wrong about a theory and making the author feel pressured or like I don't care enough about their writing to pay enough attention to be right. I worry, when they used to reply and don't anymore, that I made them angry or uncomfortable by commenting too much. I try to get back into commenting again by leaving little 'this was lovely, thank you for sharing your work with us!' Comments and walk away from that beating myself up for not being able to write something less trite; because even though I meant what I said, I didn't say all of what I felt and so it feels like an exercise in 'how quickly can i make an author regret opening a new comment email'. I try to comment. I think I have a fairly decent comment to not commenting ratio. Sometimes it's even kind of fun. But god most of the time commenting is one of the most anxiety inducing things I can do. I'm afraid almost every time I sit down in front of that empty box.

That turned vent-ier than I meant for it to, I got overemotional there at the end, sorry about that. Still sending it in though because even though I got upset I think my perspective isn't a unique one; I don't think I'm the only person paralyzed by the 'what if' of commenting Wrong. Of not being good enough. Of being good enough for awhile, and then failing to continue at that height, and thus being a disappointment. I suspect a lot of us feel like that.

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missmaywemeetagain · 2 years

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i wanted to comment on your response to the person who mentioned ‘it hurts me’. it wouldn’t let me, i guess it was too long😭 but here it is☺️

i agreeeee, your series always come to mind when i hear this song & yes yes to the grunts in the 68 version! i loveee that part. honestly, i prefer the 68 version of a lot of his songs. & i agree the change in his voice somehow brought so much more passion to it. ‘love me’ is one that i adoreee & there’s the part towards the end when he sings “if you ever go, darling i’ll be oh so lonely” but instead of just singing it normal he goes “i’ll be oh oh oh oh so lonely”. i’m sure yk what i’m talking about lol but it’s something about that part i love & don’t get me started on ‘trying to get to you’. the 68 live version EATS the original😭😭 i found another live version of it from june 21st 77 that’s also realllyyyy good, my fave one(crazy to see how amazing his voice still was w the condition he was in at that time) i’m not sure if you heard it but you should check it out!

DARLIN' let me tell you, the '68 versions of Trying to Get to You and Love Me have consumed my SOUL for a long time now and dominate my repeat EP playlist. I feel like he just put his whole ass self on the line in '68 and just gave it every ounce of what he had in all the ways--vocally, emotionally, musically, sexually--everything is just amazing. But those two, in particular, (plus One Night) have a quality to them that is just unspeakably wonderful and sexy as hell. I absolutely LOVE that we have the videos for those performances because he was just a MASTER at working the audience/camera in such an effortless way, it's unparalleled really.

I hadn't heard/seen the '77 version of Trying to Get to You, so thank you for recommending it! I will be totally honest that it is soooo hard for me to watch anything from '77 (or really anything after '71) because it makes me just so damn sad and he was so incredibly ill, BUT I am continuously amazed at the quality of those last couple performances when I do listen/watch. This one is a great vocal performance. I also loved his joking around at the beginning--his sense of humor was there till the end!

To get a little technical and nerdy, I truly think it is a physical miracle he was able to produce that kind of sound with what his body was going through. I mean, maybe he was having a good day, and for certain he was falling back on years of experience, but holy shit. Any one who sings knows that it takes a lot of effort with your diaphragm and lungs, and we know that between his megacolon, COPD, and state of his heart ALONE, the pressure on those systems had to have been immense. I'm just flabbergasted that he was able to hit those higher notes in chest voice with that kind of power in '77.

What's even more interesting is that his speaking voice is really thin and nasal here, all up in his face, likely because of those physical pressures and it took less effort to speak that way, but in the later 60's and early 70's his speaking voice was deeper, even when he was out of breath. So when he comes out with that power (even though it's a bit more nasal than before), it's really surprising! And he's still super dynamic with the cry in his voice and the way he's using slides so effectively, it's truly a feat.

Elvis was never a technically "perfect" singer and I'm glad for that because he did so many cool things vocally that made him the incredibly unique vocalist that he was. However, I would have LOVED for him to have just even a little more training because the potential he had in his range was immense, which you can really hear in the later years in the way his voice became so operatic. If he'd been well and lived longer, I can only imagine the amazing stuff he would've produced, considering that he was running on empty in '77 and did THAT (and don't even get me started on Unchained Melody 😭).

It is fascinating since we have many recordings/performances throughout his lifetime of the same songs to hear the changes in his voice. I love that we can compare and analyze them. What a gift he was!

Good LORDY, I rambled here, I'm so sorry! Anyway, you have wonderful taste and thank you for the rec, baby!! 💜

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callboxkat · 2 years

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Blood Moon (part 1)

Author’s note: Hi! First toh fic :) This is mostly written already, but got too long to keep one chapter. Part 2 will be up early next week!

Fandom: The Owl House

Summary: After the events of Eclipse Lake, things go differently. Hunter disappears for a few days after his fight with Amity. Luz starts to worry that maybe he and Belos are doing something with what Titan’s blood he managed to steal; so when the Golden Guard reappears about a week later and she runs into him at the Night Market, she goes to confront him about it. But something about him seems… different.

Warnings: Warnings will be vague on this one for spoiler reasons. If you need warnings for anything specific and don’t mind spoilers, you can of course message me. However, I will say that if you are especially triggered by things related to unreality, like not being able to trust your memories, this fic might not be the one for you. It does have a happy ending, though. I promise.

Word count: 2292

Writing Masterpost!

Ao3 Link

...

Hunter panted, struggling to regain his breath. His nose stung from the recent blow to the face; but thankfully, he could tell it wasn’t broken. Honestly, he’d be surprised if it even bruised. He was familiar enough with both by now to know what they felt like.

The fight had come to a standstill. Amity held a spike against Hunter’s neck, while Hunter held his—the palisman against the key in her outstretched hand.

Judging by the fact that the injury to his face was significantly more minor than it easily could have been, she didn’t want to hurt him any more than he wanted to hurt her. And despite the fact that he had attacked first, he really didn’t want to hurt her. But he needed that key. His mind whirled for a second, debating the possibilities, before settling on a strategy. Flattery never hurt, if his interactions with his uncle and the coven heads were anything to go by, and, if his interactions with other scouts were anything to go by, neither did just enough of a threat to make her take him seriously. And he’d learned a few things about Amity in the past couple of hours, things he could use.

“Listen,” he grunted. “You’re strong, and I’m tired. If this continues, you’ll probably escape.”

Not a lie, even if he wished it was. Maybe he was holding back from hurting her, but he’d never used a real staff before, he was rather sleep deprived from staying up worrying about how to regain his uncle’s favor, and Amity was very good at magic.

“But here’s the thing,” Hunter continued, closing the trap. “We know where to find you. And your human.”

It was an empty threat—even if he actually wanted to make good on it, he doubted he’d get the chance to go after them again, not if he returned to Belos empty handed. He wasn’t the sort to take revenge: he hadn’t even mentioned to the human that he knew she’d lied about killing the Selkidomus. Belos had been… less than pleased, about the lack of scales to collect from the cave. Apparently they were valuable, for one of his many projects.

Regardless, as he’d expected, Amity gasped as soon as the words left his mouth.

“So just… hand over that key.”

Amity stared up at him in alarm for a second, then looked away, her eyes scrunched up in defeat. “Fine,” she spat. “Just… stay away from Luz.”

Hunter held out a hand, waiting.

She dropped the key, and he snatched it.

Suddenly immensely relieved, he pulled back his staff and walked away. “Appreciate it.” He paused, remembering how she’d tried to help him, when he’d been at the end of his rope. And… while she hadn’t wanted to give him the key, she still had. She couldn’t know how much that meant to him. He glanced back. “I, uh… mean that, too.”

She only glared, but Hunter was already gone, flying out of the cave on the palisman. It was a lot different than using the artificial magic of his staff—more real, somehow. Freer. Less like Belos and his expectations were breathing down his neck. And with the key in hand, the pressure upon him suddenly felt much lighter.

…

Hunter stood in the fading sunlight, watching the light filter through the broken yellow glass of the portal key he held aloft. A smear of bluish blood stained the inside, and as he watched, another drop of it escaped through the cracks, falling to disappear in the snow that perpetually covered the Knee.

He’d gotten his prize, but not before it had been broken. Nearly all of the Titan’s blood was gone.

Still… some Titan’s blood was better than no Titan’s blood, right? That was exactly what the Emperor would have if Hunter hadn’t disobeyed him to go to the Knee. Eclipse Lake had been completely empty. In the best case scenario, Kikimora would have dug those tunnels until they collapsed on top of her. Or maybe until just one big, conveniently placed boulder collapsed. Some of the scouts were nice to Hunter, even when they didn’t have to be. Like Steve, who he’d bonded with when they were left on that mountain during their training, with their staffs taken away and temporary sigils blocking all of their magic.

In any case, even with the portal key broken, surely this would be enough to forgive Hunter for his last failed mission? And for disobeying his orders today?

A weight settled on his hand, drawing Hunter’s attention. The cardinal perched there chirped at him.

Hunter found a small, fond smile making its way to his features. “You stuck with me the whole time, huh, bird?”

Even when it should have become clear how much Hunter didn’t deserve to have a palisman choose him, and even when the bird clearly didn’t agree with what he was doing, they had stayed. Hunter didn’t have much experience with unconditional kindness like that. It was… strange. But nice.

“Flapjack!”

Hunter’s eyebrows went up in surprise. He still heard a chirp, but somehow, he knew what it meant.

“Wait—I think I understood that! Is that your name? Can you say it again?”

His palisman landed on his shoulder. “Flapjack!” he repeated.

Hunter found himself giggling, a bit giddy. “Weird. Can you say… other things?”

The bird began ecstatically chirping and trilling at him as Hunter began to make his way down the hill. “Of course, of course! I’m so excited! My name is Flapjack! I want to be your palisman!”

Flapjack continued on like that, saying all the things he’d wanted to tell him in the short time they’d known each other and hadn’t had the chance to say. It was a welcome distraction as Hunter made his way towards the castle, and towards Belos, who he hoped would be feeling forgiving.

…

Luz hadn’t seen the Golden Guard for a while.

Sure, a few days wasn’t much, but Belos was the type to make a lot of frilly, nonsense speeches to the masses that were broadcast to every crystal ball in the empire; and the Golden Guard was usually there, standing to the side of the podium. There had been a couple of these speeches since the last she had heard of him—they were growing more frequent as the Day of Unity approached—and Luz hadn’t seen him in his usual spot. She hadn’t seen him anywhere else outside, either, patrolling the streets with the other scouts. Granted, the Boiling Isles were a big place—probably the size of one of the smaller states on the east coast of the US, back in the Human Realm—so it was entirely possible that he was just stationed somewhere outside Bonesborough. But no one else she’d mentioned him to had seen him either.

Amity had told her that Hunter had gotten the portal key, and at least some of the Titan’s blood that had been inside of it. The loss made a part of Luz wish she had never sent her awesome girlfriend to Eclipse Lake—they had already had the Titan blood; they just hadn’t known it.

On the bright side, though, at least they knew now that they had the Titan’s blood, and Amity had managed to soak her glove in it before the Golden Guard had made off with what was left in the key.

Still, the fact that they hadn’t seen the Golden Guard in the past few days made her uneasy, especially given what had happened at Eclipse Lake. Who knew where he was, but the odds were good that his disappearance was because he was off working on some nefarious scheme with Belos, trying to get to the Human Realm with whatever Titan blood remained in their newly acquired portal key.

Something which didn’t bode well for everyone Luz loved who was in the Human Realm, like her mom.

…

A week after Eclipse Lake, Amity and Luz were sitting at the coffee table in the living room of the Owl House, playing Hexes Hold ‘Em. Static spun on the crystal ball perched nearby: yet another one of Belos’s many grand, boring speeches was about to start. Luz was sure he’d say nothing of substance, yet again. Just some garbage words to make the people love him and hate wild magic even more. Still, she felt the need to at least half pay attention, just in case anything happened that hinted at what he and the rest of the Emperor’s Coven were planning.

It was also a welcome distraction from their plans for the next day: they were going to try to activate the new portal to the Human Realm that they were working on, using the Titan’s blood that Amity had saved. Hooty, King, and Eda were outside working on the final touches to the portal, now. It was mostly Luz’s project, but Luz had been sent back inside after nearly being a little over-eager to help and nearly knocking the entire portal over. Eda had shooed her and Amity off, but assured Luz that the portal should be ready to go sometime the next day.

Belos had Titan’s blood now, too; but if he was going to get to the Human Realm, he’d have to beat her to it.

Luz had just gotten about half of her deck devoured by a few of Amity’s particularly bloodthirsty (paperthirsty?) cards when the light flared bright on the crystal ball, and the broadcast of Belos’s dumb speech began.

Luz glanced up from collecting the smoldering remains of her cards to see the Emperor standing behind a podium, his mask in place and his uniform impeccable. He spread his arms, and the view zoomed out to show the rest of the coven heads arrayed behind him, looking varying degrees of bored, smug, or aloof. And off to Belos’s right, there he was: the Golden Guard, in his familiar shining gold and stark white uniform, artificial staff in hand.

“Hunter!” Luz said, sitting up straighter.

Amity cast the crystal ball a bored glance. “Hm.” She shuffled her cards, getting ready to deal the next hand. “You know, I bet he just took a week off to recover from our fight.” She smirked. “Maybe he got the key, but I did punch him in the face. He was covered in abomination goo at the end. I bet it took him a few days just to get it all off.”

Luz snorted, partially amused and partially relieved.

And maybe just a little bit worried, since the return of the Golden Guard might mean that he and Belos were getting closer to finishing the project they needed the portal key for. Or worse, that it was already done. Luz didn’t want to think about why they’d even want to go to the Human Realm.

…

That night, Luz and Eda were at the Night Market, looking for some odds and ends and a few final items they needed to finish up the portal—including, for some reason, a weird baby doll with a fork for a hand that Lilith had insisted her calculations deemed absolutely necessary—when Luz spotted a familiar figure.

“Eda, I’ll be back in one second!”

Eda didn’t look up from the table she was bent over, inspecting some strange-looking objects that looked like eyes with metal spider legs. “Fine, just don’t let anyone try to steal your teeth.”

“Okay!” she agreed, only half listening, before charging up to the Golden Guard, who stood looking aggressively official to the side of a building.

Luz slowed her sprint into something slightly more casual as she neared. “Hey, Golden Guard! Whatcha up to? Stealing more Titan’s blood?”

The Golden Guard tilted his head, giving Luz as quizzical a look as one can in a blank golden mask.

Luz drew up short, pouting at him. “Hey, did you hear me? Hi, it’s me, Luz the human.”

The Golden Guard just ignored her, standing straight again. After several seconds passed and Luz hadn’t left, he snapped, “I’m a coven official. I don’t steal.”

Luz frowned at him, confused. Was he trying to pretend Eclipse Lake hadn’t happened? Did he think Amity wouldn’t have told her?

“Where’s your buddy?” she asked instead, guessing Hunter didn’t want to discuss the Emperor’s evil plans.

“…Buddy?”

“You know, your little…” she lowered her voice, remembering suddenly very vividly what Belos did with palismen. “Your little cardinal friend, the little rascal? Amity said you had him.”

He stared at her.

“He’s a red bird?” she tried. “One eye, super cute?” She was starting to really get concerned, now. How hard had Amity punched him, exactly?

The Golden Guard scoffed. “I don’t need a palisman, let alone one with one eye. They’re barely more than wild magic. My staff is far superior.”

“Uh.” Luz took an uncertain step back. “What?” Amity had said Hunter was kind of dismissive of the palisman at first, but she’d also said that he was clearly fond of it, and that the palisman even more clearly loved him. It didn’t sound right, that he’d be insulting it now. She looked around. “Are you afraid of someone overhearing?” she whispered. “Because I promise, no one’s paying attention to us.” No more attention than making sure the Golden Guard didn’t explicitly see whatever illegal activity they were doing, anyway.

“Why would I care about that?” The Golden Guard shook his head. “What am I doing? I shouldn’t even be talking to you—I don’t even know you. Now get out of my way, human; I need to patrol. Quit distracting me and go annoy someone else.”

He shouldered past her, and Luz just let him go, bewildered.

#toh #the owl house #the owl house fanfiction #luz noceda #amity blight #hunter toh #flapjack toh #toh fic #blood moon fic

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saisons-en-enfer · 8 months

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It's not easy to write this

but things are looking really fucking bad... just this past week I lost 5 kilos from not having any appetite, i had to be heavily medicated to get any sleep at all, i didnt do anything that used to excite me, i tried going out multiple times and i just felt worse and wanted to puke, ive been smoking multiple packs of cigarettes every day, i break down emotionally twice a day (which used to never happen), I spontaneously cry multiple times a day (and i never cry), and im not looking after myself... I drive recklessly, i mix medications and alcohol, I spend all day in bed because i have no energy or desire to do anything else, when someone tries to talk to me im emotionally catatonic and struggle to utter a single word of a response, daydreaming was my biggest source of comfort and warmth and i cant even do that anymore my mind is completely closed off to the idea of anything good ever happening to me

I don't know how else to convey that ive reached my breaking point, life has been impossible enough already ever since I realized I dont desire to live it... but now that ive truly lost hope... i really can't bear it im at my fucking limit, i cant humanly tolerate any more mental anguish... i always always stopped myself from harming myself because, just like how i deleted my old blog out of panic, i would only do something irreversible and just hurt everyone else. but what choice do i have now... ive been going through this for 9 years now and honestly ive been getting worse because before i had hope but now i have nothing just the stress of having to wake up in immense pain and having to endure it day after day for nothing because:

I don't make anyone happy, I'm just a burden and a mess, no one wants me around, and things will be better if i were to just die

I just don't know what else to do... do I just have to ask permission from every single person i know to allow me to let go...

i just cant do it anymore it's torture, the emptiness is suffocating

whatever the case, I don't know how much time I got left and...

if anything happens... I... I'm so fucking sorry and please don't mourn me when I'm gone I don't fucking deserve it.

I'm just saying all of this because i never want to leave without at least saying something; that I tried for so long and so hard, and its the only solution left

#vent post

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unearthlydream · 8 months

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((this is a long personal rambling feel free to scroll past lmao))

growing up chronically online meant most of my friends were distant people i didn't really know. as we got older we'd discard our fake names and backstories and share our actual life with each other. it was so wonderful to get to know a new version of a person who i already loved once we got so comfortable.

i had one friend in particular who i'll never forget. there are so many-- but d... d and I hurt each other immensely. we were both so traumatized and so broken and desperately trying to glue each others pieces back together, sometimes not even caring if they went into the right spot. as long as it wasn't broken anymore... that's all we cared about. there was so much love and, at the end, so much emotion and turmoil that we ended up never speaking again. as we got older our coping mechanisms became more complex and it just got complicated. i don't blame d for growing apart, even if i did at the time (but i was 14 and fuckin stupid. i couldn't see past my own crafted universe of "how things are supposed to be")

one thing that always troubled me was the constant state of not knowing whether d succumbed to the suicidal ideations. they blocked me on all known profiles and essentially disappeared. i always hoped and dreamed that they found happiness somehow-- that some of the plans we made for our lives would actually come together-- but not knowing has always left me with a haunted feeling whenever i thought of them.

as i scrolled through my archive i found my 2nd oldest account -- the blog where we linked to each others pages just so everyone would know we were best friends. it's been years since i saw the page and i honestly thought the blog had been wiped-- but the reality is that it's just been so long that i forgot the exact URL (back in the day when people hoarded URLs and you had to have a weird variation on something or nothing at all).

as i had done so many times as a teenager, i clicked on my "dee" tag. expecting to find nothing but an empty blog that hadn't been touched since 2011. but this time... i think they were there. the hyperlink worked and I was taken to a blog with a beautiful theme (as d always had), a silly and scrappy bio, and over 4K pages of content going all the way back to 2016. i even saw their name. their real name. the name their shitty mother gave them and that they always hated-- the name that actually inspired them to create a fake name (not just a fear of being abducted, like me lol love 2008 internet safety).

it seems so much like them. they seem so happy. i don't even see a trace of the child who i desperately texted waiting for a response to be sure they didn't drown themselves in the creek behind their house. the child who i loved so much it drove me to harm. the child who, whether they realize it or not, helped shape me into the person i am today.

but because of the time and the distance... because of the fiery way our friendship ended... i can't be sure. i want so badly for it to be them. i've thought for so long that maybe they lost their battle and that i'd never see them smile again or talk with them about werewolves or listen to their stories about their grandparents that loved them so much. but now there is a little hope. and i'm going to hang onto that.

i just wish... i wish i could reach out. it's been so long that i would hope their hate faded. that they could reflect on the simple things that tore us apart, and that they might even be happy to hear from me. to know that i won my battle too and that i'm finally happy.

it hurts to not know. but it would probably hurt more to reach out and hear nothing-- or to reach out just to realize that this person with their blog isn't actually them, but someone who took their URL after they deleted their presence from my life.

god i haven't written anything this long on tumblr since..... ever? lmao but i'm just sitting at work simultaneously aching over these memories and shining over the fact that they might still be breathing. that they're living the life that i always dreamed and hoped that they would. and god-- if it is you, d, you turned into a beautiful person. not that i ever had any doubts.

#personal #god #is this relatable content??? any bitches turning 30 soon lamenting over the friends they've lost over the internet???#i miss them so much and i want to reach out so bad but i just.... i don't think they need me popping up in their life #to remind them of all of our childhood sadness #i hope they're happy and i hope they've forgotten about me #maybe i'll get lucky and they'll find this post and reach out....#lost friendship #i didn't re-read any of this so hopefully it's coherent lmao #tw: sucidal thoughts #tw: mentions of death #i hope they remember me as fondly as i remember them #but i guess if they don't... that is okay too #it has to be #GOD I WANNA CRY WTF LMAO #am i even worth being fondly remembered?

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helpyeungrowup · 2 years

Text

a glimpse into one of my anxious fits

im back

and while i was gone quite a lot happened.

the journaling challenge went downhill but with that my mental state also went down

i experienced a near death experience but that's for another post for another day

i fell into a slump and it's so hard to get back up but i can feel myself slowly get up and I'm proud of myself for that.

today's post is just a copy and paste from what i typed for my spam post but i typed too much that i couldn't post.

but i think it is better if this was added to my tumblr.

i get asked "what goes through your mind when you're anxious or when you feel an anxiety attack coming" and honestly it differs. It really just depends on how bad my anxiety is and whos around me, but this is one scene just to help you step into my life for a brief moment.

though I would like you to step into a moment of my life where I'm happy and not anxious...i think it would be fun if you walked in my shoes at a time when I'm the most vulnerable and hopeless.

i hope this story doesnt change the way you see me and please don't pity me.

so lets take a deep breath *breathe in 1...2...3... breathe out*

ok enjoy!

thoughts thoughts thoughts

feelings feelings feelings

but no way to verbally say them out loud

memories of the ups and downs of life is always exciting to reminisce about but when you go too far into reminiscing you fall into immense feelings of vulnerability, humility, and…guilt.

then you start to blame yourself about how you think. you tell yourself that your mindset is all wrong but then you realize it’s the mindset that armored you throughout your emotionally draining and traumatic past…and then you feel like you’ve lost some type of life battle. you’ve won and fought through your past but now that your surroundings have changed and you’ve gained knowledge and age…you’re independent mindset is hurting you and it may potentially hurt the most important people around you. and then at this moment you wonder “what do i do? what can i do?” with ur palms sweating from the anxiety and the realization that your palms are sweaty makes you think your palms are sticky and gross and everything around you is bothering you because everything seems off by a millimeter and your mind starts to spiral and now you feel like your whole body is shaking and so you run to the restroom to wash off the stickiness just to find yourself hovering over the toilet because you feel like you’re going to throw up all of your organs.

plop. plop. plop.

you turn to look at yourself in the mirror and you go “you’re being dramatic. stop.”

you wipe off the tears. you wash your hands…twice maybe three times. fourth for good measure. fuck it. until all the moisture in your hands is gone and you can see the wrinkles clearly on your palms.

you check to see if the redness around your eyes disappeared and then you walk back acting like nothing happened.

just like nothing happened.

and you sit back down.

reminiscing about your damn past that’s ruining your body at that moment while you feel your heart beat faster and harder.

badump…badump…badumpbadumpba-

you take a deep breath

drink water… but you let the water just sit in your mouth until it gets warm then it’s disgusting and your effort to calm down worsens a bit

and you find temporary comfort in a hug

no words. just a hug.

comfort because the person with you loves you and you love her.

temporary because when you let go the thoughts and feelings rush back like a wave.

you drown back into your anxiety.

after a few moments have passed the tide falls low and you don’t feel as bad anymore but you fall tired.

your night ends with your body feeling like an empty shell and all you can do is anticipate the next wave of anxiety to pull you in and trap you.

and scene.

also move to heaven is a really good drama i recommend it! do note that its not a light and young drama like business proposal.

ok bye bye i hope you enjoyed the anxiety <3

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teyvat-imagines · 3 years

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Albedo, Kaeya, Childe, Xiao, Diluc and Zhongli with a depressed s/o? I’m sorry for the immense amount of characters but you can pick and choose if you want haha I love your work btw!

Hello! :)

I only write for a maximum of 3 characters each request, so I've picked 3 from the ones you've listed but feel free to send in another request if you wanted the other 3 written up too! ^w^

Depressed S/O

Albedo:

○ Albedo wasn't the best at understanding human emotions. He got on much better with things that were logical. Things that made sense. And emotions were far from that.

○ Despite this, he really makes an effort to understand how you're feeling. He makes extensive notes and even does personal research in his free time.

○ If you looked in his study, you would find a fair few thick journals filled to the brim with notes on your mental health. From any patterns he feels he's spotted, to things he's realised trigger you, to extensive lists of things that have helped lift your mood.

○ Albedo also puts in a lot of time and effort into researching and crafting an anti-depressant stimulant for you. It wouldn't take your depression away because it wasn't made to be a cure. But it would help you with regulating your mood.

○ He doesn't insist you take it though and he isn't offended if you admit that you have any concerns about it. Instead he switches gears and focuses on spending time with you, taking you out for walks along Dragonspine when you want to get out for a bit.

○ Days when you can't get out of bed, he brings his work to you. He'll spend all day with you in your shared room, working away quietly, checking in on you. He brings you lunch when he stops to eat - and honestly it's only really his concern for you that he even remembers to stop and eat in the first place.

○ Albedo doesn't understand human emotion, but when it comes to you he won't ever stop trying to understand it. Trying to understand you.

Diluc:

○ Diluc can almost understand the way you're feeling at times. When he lost his father, he was so hurt he just felt empty. Alone. Scared and confused and so angry.

○ You told him that was similar to the way you felt. But, you were ashamed to admit that you didn't really have a good reason for feeling this way.

○ When you say this, Diluc looks almost angry. He cups your cheeks, as gentle as ever, and tells you never to say that again if you can help it.

"You are struggling. You're fighting battles internally and that is more difficult than we could ever know. You have a damn good reason for feeling as bad as you do, my flame."

○ He goes on to remind you that if this had been a physical wound, one that you could clearly see, would you have insisted you had no reason to feel so horrible? It's easy to think you're just not trying hard enough when you can't see what's affecting you. But it does not make your feelings any less real or valid.

○ You're depression is very much real and very much a reason to feel this way. You're fighting each day and it's difficult. But, at the very least, Diluc will not let you fight alone.

Xiao:

○ Xiao, much like Albedo, struggled somewhat with understanding your emotions. For Xiao, it was much easier when there was a physical reason, because he could deal with it for you then.

○ Even if it had been a demon's intervention that had caused your depression, he could have at least vanquished the demon that had hurt you so.

○ But it wasn't like that. There was no physical cause for the way you felt. No demons harming you beyond the ones in your mind. And these ones Xiao couldn't fight.

○ So instead, he does what he can. He spends time taking care of you. He'll bring you food and encourage you to eat when you can. When it's late out and no one else is around, he takes you outside for walks in the peaceful evening air.

○ As an Adeptus, he doesn't require sleep. So when you're tired, he curls up with you, running his hand through your hair softly and keeping a close eye on you and your dreams. If nightmares come, he makes sure to eat them before they can affect you.

○ Humans are so fragile and he knows this. Yet, at the same time, he can see how strong you are. And he reminds you that you're stronger than you realise too.

"You may not realise it, but you are consistently fighting against your own demons. I think the ones you face are far stronger than any of the demons I've ever fought. You are incredibly strong, love."

○ He knows he's limited in the things he can do to help you, but Xiao will still do whatever he can for your sake.

#tw // mental health #tw // depression #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #albedo x reader #genshin impact albedo #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #xiao x reader #xiao #genshin xiao

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Note

Can I request some chilly fluff? Anything really, just some cute sweet chilly fluff with a little bit of angst maybe?

of course! here's an idea that's been swimming around my brain all day lol

helping hand

ben isn't coping with his newest responsibility and his best friend comes to save the day once again

It's honestly less about the news than it is about the fact that you didn’t here it from him. Texts have gone mostly unanswered since you read that online article you first believed was false, only for it to be confirmed by him. You offered a congratulations despite the pain it brought to you to hear that you had completely lost your chance.

You had probably called him about a million times, each time ringing out and some even being hung up after merely a few rings.

At first, you worried that something had happened. Then you managed to wrangle the news out of Mason that everything was well, you let yourself have those days of utter heartbreak that he had found a girl, started to settle down and then completely cut you out of the picture. This was the first time in all of your 23 years that you hadn't been able to speak to him about things that were going on. He seemed to have completely fogotten about you and you couldn't bring yourself to think of a reason why.

She never really did like you, his girlfriend. You could only imagine it had something to do with the fact that Ben was incredibly close with you. A lot of girls had been unhappy with the fact that while dating Ben, they were subject to teasing that everyone was surprised he was dating when they had thought he was so clearly in love with you. You understand that, it would be irritating but nothing had ever happened between you and Ben that might suggest you would ever get together. People just love a rumour.

What had really hit you, however was seeing her from the Instagram you followed. She didn't even appear to be in London, never mind with him and that made no sense by the timeline you had managed to figure out.

That's how you found yourself standing at his door with what felt like a million bags and a feeling of hurt you had never actually had before. You cornered Mason, refusing to leave until he told you what the hell was going on and when he did, you were gone like a flash with a broken heart to seek out the man who needed you now more than he ever did.

Your heart shatters even more when you step into his house, pushing it open and pulling out the key he gave you a few months ago as you head carefully to the kitchen. You can hear him trying to talk, his voice strained and croaky as he attempts to speak over the sound of the screaming baby girl.

"Come on sweetheart," he begs, "Please take your bottle, I promise you're just tired."

His house is messier than you've ever seen it with gifts unopened, blankets and bottles, baby toys and clothes strewn around everywhere you could see.

You're quick and quiet to get to work clearing the place up, clean clothes being folded and sat in his clean laundry hamper while sorting the dirty things and shoving them into the washing machine by colour before tidying away all the blankets into the baby boxes he had set up in his front room. The infant upstairs screams the entire time you whiz around, throwing an entire bin bag worth of rubbish out of his kitchen before restocking all the shelves and his empty fridge with food for him and milk powder for the little girl. The pizza you shoved in the oven the second you arrived was finished after 15 minutes, so you plated that and left it on the kitchen island before you decided to make you presence known to him.

"Need a helping hand?"

His head whips around rapidly, instinctively tucking his daughter closer into his chest before he recognised your voice and turned his face back away from you. "You shouldn't be here, (y/n)." He mumbles, bouncing his legs to try and get that screeching to stop before he starts crying again himself.

How had everything ended up so messy? He found a girl that he thought he loved, he had his best friends and he had you. She got pregnant and he was ecstatic until she told him she wasn't interested in having a baby. It was too late to do anything about it, so she gave birth to that baby and legally signed over parental rights wholly and fully to a destroyed Ben. You, of course, had to find this out half from the tabloids and half from Mason. Ben was absolutely affronted. He was mortified. How had he gotten himself in this position?

You were the first and only person he wanted to tell. He was desperate to seek out your arms and have an absolute sob to you so you could help him fix this like you do with everything else, but he couldn't bring himself to face you. He cut you off slowly and carefully without even noticing himself because she had coaxed him into it. She played him like a fiddle, let him grow her platform and fund her lifestyle until she had everything she wanted from him and left him with something that was supposed to be theirs to love forever.

As if things couldn't get worse, from the moment he found out she was having a baby he had realised he didn't want kids or a life with anyone but you and now here he is, with a baby that has no mother and he had lost you. How could he just go back crying to you now after all the hurt he had caused you? What kind of person does that? He made this mess and it was his to clean up.

"Mason told me what happened. You can fight me all you want, Ben but I'm not going to go anywhere so you may as well just let me help." You say firmly, not inviting a single space for him to actually contest your words. His shoulder deflate even further than they already are as he finally turns to meet your eyes.

There's bags and dark circles beneath his with greasy, messy hair and a shirt he probably hadn't changed in longer than he should.

"I'm sorry." He croaks, clamping down on his lip with his teeth so he doesn't immediately burst out crying at the sight of you standing there in his house. God, he's missed you so much he couldn't even begin to put it into words and his emotions are so messed up from the lack of sleep that he'll cry at just about anything right now. "It's forgotten about. We don't have to talk about it, I'm here to help."

The weight that lifts off of Ben's shoulder is the kind of immense relief that only really you can bring to him, honestly. There are few people that he has ever met that can ease him like you can and knowing he doesn't have to explain this whole situation really is something he's so thankful for.

"This is Lilly," he says weakly, nodding his head down at her whining. You smile immediately and without thought, stepping forward to get a closer look at the small baby, only two weeks old and already giving her dad a run for his money. "Hello Lilly," you coo softly, raising your hand to stroke her cheek with your finger in the most gentle manner he's ever seen. "Can I? I feel like I've missed out on two weeks worth of aunt (y/n) cuddles."

He tries not to think much into the fact you refer to yourself as her aunt because if he lets enough thought onto it, he'll find himself breaking his heart over you all over again. Ben nods, passing her into your arms carefully.

"I'll feed her, I made some pizza for you so you should go eat." You hold our your hand to take the bottle from him, but he frowns. "I-" Ben stutters, "I don't want to just lump you with her, plus she's upset so I shouldn't leave her y'know? It's not fair on-"

"Go and eat Ben, and have a shower while you're at it. We'll be fine in here, I've babysat a million times before." You shrug, taking the bottle from him as you step further into the nursery instead of standing in the doorway cradling the still whimpering little girl in her pink onesie. "But I-"

"Go."

"I should-"

"Ben go, now."

Ben sighs in defeat and turns on his heel, the rumbling of his stomach finally giving him away as he realises just how hungry and smelly he actually is. No wonder the infant was crying in his hold.

He trudges downstairs, hearing the sounds of those winging dying down as he does, half expecting to walk into the messy swamp he had left when he went upstairs earlier this morning, only to see the whole bottom floor of the house was basically as spotless as it had been the day he moved in, bar the baby variety adjustments he had made to welcome the new arrival.

He makes a mental note to thank you more and do some grovelling and apologising later on. He knows he has to do it and he knows he'll explain in more detail what really happened probably later today, but for now he will scoff that pizza down his throat faster than he has ever consumed a meal in all of his life before raining the cupboards that he discovered you had stocked. He is reminded with every step he takes around his house that this is you, again, here holding him up when the world around him feels like its completely crumbled.

This is what you do, you keep him together, fix him up after the heartbreaks and breakups preparing him for the next girl who's pieces you'll have to pick up when they hurt him. This time he doesn't want another girl, he wants you. This time, the one time that he would be miles too late. He's got a baby now that he needs to focus on and he can't imagine that you're going to want an instant family even if you could really see past the fact he had ghosted you for nearly five straight months from the moment he found out his girlfriend was pregnant. He can't forgive himself, so how on earth would you?

If he would ask, you would tell him you already had. Seeing how hurt he was, how genuinely sorry things had ended dup like this with everyone in his life he was was enough for you. It was enough to cause you actual physical pain. You never could hold a grudge considering the situation he had ended up in.

Ben had never ever once in his life being more thankful for his shower. He’s also pretty sure he fell asleep against the wall with the heat of the shower steam loosening his muscles and the fatigue of barely an hours sleep catching up to him. He towel dries off his hair, letting the towel hang around his neck as he rubs it against his head while he pads along the soft carpet of his hallway from the bedroom to his beautifully done pink nursery where he hears no crying, at all.

But he does here soft talking.

“Giving your daddy a hard time eh, pretty girl.” You hum softly, slowly swaying from side to side. She lays in your arms, looking up at you and stealing every bit of your heart with her daddies eyes. “He deserves it a little, you know. Just ‘cause he done me out of some adorable baby cuddles y’know?” Ben can hear the teasing smile on your lips as he leans against the doorframe out of your sight, keeping quiet so as not to be detected. “But he’s a good man, sweet girl. One of the best, actually. And i know he’s already such a good daddy to you, he loves you so so much. Do you know that, eh?” You say quietly. Ben catches the sight of you swaying that amazed little baby who coos up at you, reaching for your finger to hold. “Mhm, and i love you too. You have no idea how loved you are.” That’s one thing Ben can agree on.

“And you might not know it now because you’re little, but i do know one thing for absolute certain; I’m always gonna be here for you, and for your daddy even if he’s as stubborn about it as they come. You’ve got to help me out though, eh sweet girl? Be good to that daddy of yours. Yeah, sleepy baby? Mhm, my sweet girl.” The way you hum, bouncing her carefully and swaying in just the right way for her to fall asleep in your arms. Ben watches you for only a minute more, softly singing a little lullaby to her that makes Ben’s heart swell to ache so much that he has to take a small little video before he heads off downstairs with one last look.

When you finally greet him downstairs with a tight hug that he sinks into immediately, resting his cheek on your shoulder as your hands massage your fingers through his freshly cleaned hairs as his arms hug around your waist. “I’ve missed you.” He admits, words muffled by your sweatshirt. The feeling of your fingers at the nape of his neck makes him hum in content and sink into you peacefully just like his baby daughter did not half an hour ago. You’re just perfect for them both in every way and there is not one bone in his body that doesn’t wish he had started his family with you.

But with that realisation comes one more; that he will not settle until he has given everything he has, tried with every morsel of him to earn your forgiveness. He might not of started his family with you, but he is damn determined to make you part of it.

#ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagines #ben chilwell #england national team imagine #chelsea imagine #footie fic #football fic #footballer fic

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kimvvantae · 3 years

Text

puzzle; 8 (FINAL)

➜ you and jungkook are best friends of a lifetime, even though your personalities are like unmatching pieces of a puzzle. the line between friendship and something more has never been crossed between you two - but that changes after a break up and a drunken night, when you not-so-accidentally cross this line to something much more. what happens when after this accident your non-matching puzzle pieces seem to match in a way you’ve never imagined?

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader

genre: smut, angst, comedy; friends with benefits au; college au

warnings: lots of swearing, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex

rating: 18+

word count: 16k

A/N: finally the last chapter! i am actually feeling very emotional right now. i enjoyed writing puzzle so much and it received so much love since the beginning! your feedback always kept me motivated to write. thank you so much to everyone that followed these two dorks and waited patiently for every update. i hope we can meet again in future works!

hmmm, a little rec?? but i listened to sweet night by taehyung as i wrote this chapter. maybe listening to it will enhance your experience too!

enjoy!

➜ Chapters: check up masterlist in bio!

« playlist »

You don’t know how long it has been until Taehyung finds you.

It’s cold. The tears have finally come to a halt, but you’re still sobbing and sniffling. You should probably get up and go home. It’s late. Not safe to be alone on the street like this. You should probably call an uber or something.

Yet, every time you think of Jungkook’s tears, it seems that your own eyes well up with tears all over again.

What makes you snap back into reality is the sound of shoes walking down the stairs.

You get up in a jump, feeling your legs ache in the process, and turn around to see the person you least expected to see right now. Taehyung stops some steps ahead. The light pole behind him marks his silhouette with a halo.

“I finally found you,” he says after a few seconds. He sounds hesitant but somehow relieved.

It makes your heart clench even more.

You make an immense effort to speak, as if words ran over inside your throat and made it stuck. Well, they did, in a sense.

“Taehyung, w-what…?” is all you can stutter. You don’t really need to finish the sentence. What are you doing here? Why did you come after me even though I hurt you?

He looks down and caresses the back of his neck. You notice that he’s nervously fiddling with his car keys on the other hand. Oh. He probably didn’t want to be around you, either.

“Well, you ran away down the street like that. I got worried.”

You shouldn’t.

“It’s… not safe to be by yourself on the street like this. I’m taking you home.”

Please, don’t be kind to me.

It will be much harder if you’re being kind to me.

“Taehyung, I…” you feel yourself squeezing your purse against you, just as nervous as he is. You don’t want to bother him with your presence anymore. “I was about to call an uber. You don’t need to…”

“It’s alright. I’m already here anyway.” He starts to walk up the stairs again without looking back. Without giving you a chance to disagree. “Let’s go.”

It seems that your legs forgot how to walk as you watch him. You don’t want to get inside his car. You don’t want to face him, not right now.

When Taehyung reaches the top of the stair alley, he finally looks back at you in silence.

That’s when you realize that you have to face him. You were never one to run away from the consequences of your actions.

The newest consequence is staring back at you in quiet sadness.

You inhale deeply before going after him.

An awful silence hovers in the air during the entire ride home.

You can’t help but shrink on the passenger’s seat, hugging your own arms tight, your head leaning on the window. Taehyung does not make any attempt to engage a conversation. His presence is suffocating.

Something cold sets in your stomach when he parks the car in front of your apartment’s building. There’s nothing out there to distract you anymore. Nowhere else to run to.

You inhale again.

“Thank you.” you say softly.

Taehyung doesn’t say anything as he rests his hands on his lap. You watch him intently as he gulps, his eyes glued in something ahead.

“So.” He starts, his voice as low as yours. This is painful. It was never your intention to put him in that situation, never. “I don’t want to take a drunk man seriously.”

It’s your turn to gulp. You really really don’t want to explain everything to him in detail. “Mike is a son of a bitch. He got it all wrong.”

“It seems that he got one thing right, though. Judging by Jungkook’s reaction.”

It’s getting difficult to breathe again.

Taehyung turns his head slowly to look at you.

“Are you guys…?”

You honestly feel like jumping out the window, but your feelings for Taehyung make you stay still. He’s a kind friend. He deserves to hear it clearly.

So you take a deep breath before speaking.

“Jungkook and I, we… we were never a real thing. Not really.” It hurts to say this out loud. It seems that you can still hear his broken voice…

There was never anything real happening, right? We were never real.

“B-But recently I realized that I have feelings for him.”

Taehyung nods slowly and sinks on the driver's seat. He rests his chin on his hand, letting a shaky deep breath out.

“Why did you call me today, then?”

“To tell you the truth.”

He gasps softly and shakes his head again. Taehyung has completely broken eye contact with you and his body language looks protective - building an almost visible wall between you and him in seconds.

“Wow. It seems that I was the one who got it all wrong.”

You feel like touching him to give him even a little bit of comfort, yet you know that you’re his main discomfort in the moment. You turn your body in his direction, pleading.

“Taehyung, it wasn’t meant to happen this way. I didn’t want to hurt you, not at all. I know that an apology won't be enough...”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He cuts you. His voice sounds strange, so different from how he has ever talked to you. He’s very quiet, but you can feel the anger and hurt lying underneath. “We never had anything anyway. I was the delusional one here.”

No, not again. You don’t think you can take more guilt for one night. You didn’t just delude him going on that date; you deluded him every time you talked, every time you texted each other. Taehyung saw something more when there was nothing at all - he felt something more, and you were too confused with your own feelings for Jungkook to notice what you were doing.

“Taehyung…”

“I’m feeling very ashamed right now.” He admits with a shaky exhale. “Could you…?”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but you know very well what he meant. Leave.

You nod and open the door into the cold night. You still stand there on the sidewalk hesitantly for a few seconds before whispering a shy “I’m sorry”. Taehyung doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look your way.

When you shut the door, you know very well that from now on, your friendship with Taehyung is also shut.

You’ll miss him really bad.

It feels like you can barely carry the weight of your own body as you slowly make your way to your apartment - which is weird, because you feel empty right now.

Your apartment isn’t as empty as you expected when you open the door, though. Seulgi is standing on the kitchen counter and she smiles wide when she sees you. She looks excited in a way she hasn’t been in months; it seems that she’s about to say something.

Her smile dies as she sees your puffy face and your red nose and eyes.

“Y/N, what happened…?”

For some reason, when you look at her, you start crying again.

Seulgi wides her eyes and runs to where you’re standing, shocked and confused - probably because you have never cried in front of her yet. Never.

“Oh my God, Y/N! What happened?!”

You can’t answer because the sobs won’t let you. You can just rest your face on Seulgi’s shoulder as she hugs you, patting your back. She is so confused that she can’t really think of anything else to do.

After a few minutes of restless crying, Seulgi manages to lead you to sit on the couch and runs back to the kitchen to take a glass of water. She sits by your side and hands you the glass, caressing your hair sweetly.

“Can you talk now, babe? What happened?” She asks again quietly as you try to drink a little bit of water.

You wipe the tears away once again and sniff. This place reminds you of him way too much. It feels that he belongs here, even though it’s not his home. And maybe… maybe he won’t ever step inside, ever again.

“I-It’s J-Jungkook.” it’s hard to speak between the sobs.

“Did you guys fight?” You nod weakly. “Was it that bad?”

Yes. Yes, it was.

After months of pretending, you finally open up to Seulgi. There’s no reason to keep this from her anymore. After Mike’s scandal, that’s probably everything the whole campus will be talking about in the next few days (you saw a lot of familiar faces at the bar).

It seems that Seulgi’s eyes will pop out of her face as you speak.

She stares at you, jaw dropped in pure shock.

“You and Jungkook what?!” is the first thing she exclaims. “Since when?!”

You rest your back on the couch and gaze at the ceiling. The sobs have finally stopped, at least. “Do you remember when I broke up with Mike? When we went to that club?”

“Yes, and you spent the night out…” Seulgi trails off as realization hits her. She stares at you as if you’ve grown a second head. “That guy you were talking about was Jungkook?!”

You just nod.

Seulgi gasps and rests her back on the couch right by your side, your arms touching. She’s speechless for a while.

“But, like… how many times?”

“I don’t know.” She gasps again.

“That many times?”

You nod. “It was almost daily at some point.”

It seems that she can’t close her jaw anymore. “Where?”

“Here. His apartment. His car.” You frown. “Sometimes a cheap hotel downtown, when you and Jimin were both home.”

Seulgi stays quiet for a little longer.

You side eye her. “You didn’t suspect?”

She shakes her head slowly. “I thought you guys were acting strange for a while now, but I never thought this was going on.” She looks back at you. “Did someone know?”

“Jimin caught us once.” you decide to omit where he caught you. It’s embarrassing to say that you fucked inside Joy’s bathroom out loud and it makes you feel even worse. “But he promised to not tell anyone."

Back to silence. You can almost hear the engines inside Seulgi’s brain trying to process everything you just told her.

“But why did you guys fight?”

You take a deep breath before telling her the rest. Taehyung, Joy, Mike, Yeri. It’s quite painful to explain, but it’s also relieving.

If you thought Seulgi looked shocked before, now it looks like she just found out that Santa is real.

She completely turns her body in your direction, eyes super wide. “Do you like Jungkook?”

You nod softly, staring at your own fingers.

“It’s more than just liking him.” You admit sheepishly.

Then she’s quiet for a long, long time. You decide to finally look up at her.

Now you’re surprised.

“Why the hell are you smiling?”

Seulgi hides her mouth with both hands - as if this wouldn’t let you see the big ass grin on her lips. “I’m sorry. It’s… it’s cute.”

“Cute?” you quirk one eyebrow. “My suffering is cute to you?”

“That’s not what I mean.” she waves her hand dismissively. “I always kind of shipped you two, okay? It’s just that you two looked really good together and you always had such good chemistry and all. But I tried to stop thinking this because, you know, I thought it was wrong to assume that a man and a woman can’t be just friends… and it never looked like you had feelings for him, not at all.”

You stare at her as if she has a second head growing now. “You shipped us?”

“You can’t judge me.”

You cross your arms and sink on the couch even more. This is kind of shocking. “You never thought I liked him?”

Seulgi shakes her head. “Never. Jungkook, though…”

You turn your head to look at her so fast that your neck almost breaks. “What about him?”

She hesitates a little bit before speaking. “Well, sometimes… sometimes I caught him looking at you in some type of way.”

There it is again. The fast beating of your heart. It’s ridiculous that, even though you’re this miserable, you still feel this spark of happiness inside of you.

For fuck’s sake, Y/N! I’m in love with you!

You press your lips tight in an attempt to hold back the uninvited smile. It’s not appropriate to feel happy now; it feels that you don’t even have the right to feel happy at all. But his confession is hitting you just now. Hitting you like a truck.

God, if only you could go back in time. If only you could just make him shut the fuck up and listen to you. Why did he have to be so damn dramatic?

I love you too, dumbass! Now stop being a cry baby and kiss me!

What if Jungkook never gives you a chance to explain yourself? He can be hard-headed when he wants to. What if Jungkook never lets you get close to him again, what if your intimacy finally dies, what if you get so distant that when you’re in the same room you can’t bear each other’s presence anymore? What if from now on, there won’t be any Jungkook to steal your fries when you’re not looking, or to let you steal his clothes even though he pretends he doesn’t know you’re taking them, or to help you understand a difficult assignment, or to annoy you because he’s bored at 4AM, or to tell you the things no one else would be brave enough to tell you or to just be there when you needed someone the most?

Your brain can’t even comprehend what life without Jungkook is.

A mix of despair and hurry makes you get up in a jump.

“I’m going to his apartment.” Your breath is irregular, adrenaline taking control of your actions. “I-I need to talk to him now.”

“Hey, hey!” Seulgi gets up in a jump and puts her hands on your shoulders, forcing you to stop. “Y/N, you’re not okay. And you said Jungkook is drunk. Do you really think you’ll manage to have a civilized conversation right now? He’s probably still angry, maybe he won’t even listen to you.”

“I don’t care. I’ll shout on his door until he listens to me.”

Seulgi holds you in place again when you try to free yourself from her grip. “This is not a good idea and you know it.” She looks at you very seriously. “Take a shower, Y/N. Go to sleep. Tomorrow you’ll both be cold-headed and able to talk.”

“B-But,” you feel the tears coming back. Fuck. You hold Seulgi’s arms weakly. “But he needs to know the truth. He needs to know I like him back.”

The black-haired girl frowns. “Like him back…?”

You nod and look down. “He… he said that he’s in love with me.”

“Really?!” Seulgi huffs and taps your forehead lightly. “Then why are you so desperate?! He loves you back, dummy!”

“But I’m scared, Seulgi.” You sniff.

She rolls her eyes and pushes you into another hug. “Everything will be okay, Y/N. There’s no need to be worried. You already know the most important. Tomorrow you go talk to him, alright?” She chuckles softly. “Never thought I’d see you acting like this.”

You sniff again. “Now you understand how it is to deal with a stupid lovesick roommate.”

“Ouch.” You notice how she pats your back a bit aggressively. “But for real, Y/N… I’ll always be thankful for what you did today to me and Irene. Even though it was none of your business. And I’ll probably beat you up if you ever intervene in my life like that again-”

“Wow, I really see how you’re thankful, Seul.” She chuckles again.

"And I'm kind of offended that you hid this from me for so long."

"We promised we wouldn't tell anyone about this!"

"Alright, alright." She sighs. “I love you so much, you crackhead. And Jungkook loves you, too. You don’t need to be sad anymore, okay? Just take a shower and go to sleep now.”

You nod weakly.

Maybe she’s right. You’ll have enough time to talk to him tomorrow.

But you don’t think you’ll get any sleep right now.

***

[you]: jungkook

[you]: can we talk?

[you]: we really really need to talk

[you]: can i go to your place?

[you]: please

[you]: i know you’re reading

[you]: stop ignoring me

[you]: jungkook

[you]: JUNGKOOK

You sigh heavily. This is so frustrating. He didn’t even leave you on read - you’re sure he’s just reading the texts on the notifications and swiping them away. He didn’t block your number, which is a good sign, but this is already getting on your nerves. You’ve been texting since early in the morning (because you couldn’t sleep) and it’s already 5PM.

“He’s ignoring my texts.” You whine to Seulgi as you enter the living room.

“You said he had things to do today, right? Maybe he’s actually busy.” She says as she checks her makeup on the mirror. It’s been a long time since you saw her getting all pretty like this; she did her nails, made curls on her hair, put on that green skirt she bought months ago but never wore it. This is what being happy and in love looks like. Pretty, well-dressed, nice hair, healthy skin and all.

Meanwhile, your hair looks like a bird nest, you’re wearing the ugly Naruto t-shirt you have since middle school, your entire face is swollen and you have bags under your eyes. This is also what being in love looks like, unfortunately.

“Why don’t you just go to his apartment already?”

“You told me not to do it.”

“I told you not to do it yesterday. Today he’s not drunk anymore.”

You cross your arms. “I’m… I’m still kind of nervous.”

Seulgi turns around and looks at you and quirks her eyebrow. There’s the ghost of a smirk on her lips. “I never thought I’d see you nervous because of anyone. You look like a teenager…”

"I swear to God, if you say that you think I look cute one more time I'll fucking kill you."

Seulgi laughs and runs to you again, putting her hands on your shoulders. "Y/N, do you remember how you were always telling me that I was complicating simple things?"

"Yes."

She lifts her eyebrows. "So."

You roll your eyes and huff. "But it's not that easy!"

"Now you understand how I felt, huh?" Her eyes soften again. "For real, though. If you show up at his door he won't ignore you, I'm sure. Just go."

You sigh again and nod. "You're right. Just… let me build some courage, okay?"

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" She looks a bit worried. "I could go out with Irene another day."

"No, no. Go on your date." You wave your hands. "I'm not gonna die. Also, your pussy must be dusty after so long-"

She smacks your shoulder a bit too strongly as you let yourself laugh for the first time today.

When Seulgi leaves, you still stand in the middle of the living room for a good while. Like a Sim whose action has just been cancelled.

Whoever is playing you is really evil for putting all the wrong people in the wrong places past night.

You know that you’re not being rational. You should have gone to his house a long time ago… but something holds you back. Perhaps because now there’s no turning back. You know what you feel for Jungkook and you know what he feels for you - your relationship got completely out of its comfort zone, and now you can’t even pretend anymore. Things won’t ever be the same.

Maybe Jungkook is ignoring you because he’s embarrassed of what Mike did. He basically exposed you two in front of his friends. Sure, that’s none of no one’s business, but still… Jungkook didn’t want anyone to know about it in the first place.

You stare at your phone for a good while. Your reflection on the phone’s screen stares back at you in disgust.

For the hundredth time today, you unlock it and open Jungkook’s number. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard hesitantly.

[you]: jungkook i know youre mad at me and you have all the rights to be but

You frown and delete the text. It doesn’t sound good.

[you]: can you stop being dramatic and just text me back already?

You feel tempted to send this one, but if Jungkook’s angry, this will only make the situation worse. You sigh and try again one more time

[you]: i just really want to talk. you didnt let me speak last night. i know youre probably busy but please. i wont take much of your time

This one sounds about right. You tap the send button.

Then, your fingers mindlessly type one more text. It makes your heart beat fast just looking at it.

[you]: i love you too

You want to send this one so bad.

But you don’t.

Because this isn’t something to be told by text.

Coward! the angry voice of your consciousness yells in your mind. Stop being a coward! You’re an evolved human being, not a stupid teenager! Get this ass up the couch and go meet him!

You get up in a jump.

“I’m not a coward!” you say out loud. If you weren’t this out of your mind, you would have noticed how stupid it was to scream encouraging words by yourself in the living room.

But you don’t care right now.

You don’t care that your face is all puffy and the dark circles around your eyes make you look like a raccoon. You don’t care that you’re wearing your ulgy Naruto t-shirt with old ketchup stains, and you don’t care that you’re wearing the sweatpants that fall down your butt as you walk, and you don’t care that your hair looks like a living animal.

You just straight out leave your home and march to his. Flip flops and all.

Your heart beats at a stupid race as you walk, the sun already disappearing behind the buildings. The anxious part of your brain keeps reminding you that you don’t know what to say when you meet him and you don’t know what his reaction will be, but you shut this whiny voice up. Being with Jungkook always meant that you didn’t have to think a lot in the first place. Being with him is natural, it takes no effort. When you see him you’ll know what to say. You’re sure.

Yet, you can’t help but feel more and more nervous as you enter his apartment building (you never needed to ask permission to enter). You close your hands in fists, gulp multiple times, your heartbeat sounds like drums on your ears.

Your hand hovers over the door.

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself. It’s real. It’s happening. Come on. Don’t be a coward.

After taking one more deep breath, you finally knock on the door.

There’s noise inside. Steps. Fuck, you’re shaking.

You hear the sound of the door unlocking and you hold your breath ready to face him-

Jimin.

He widens his eyes and blinks.

“Oh. Hi, Jimin.” you say awkwardly. Why is he looking at you this way? “Hm, is Jungkook home?”

Jimin looks hesitant for a moment.

“No.”

It’s your turn to widen your eyes. So that’s why he isn't texting you back. This makes you a bit relieved.

“Is… is he working?” You can’t hide your disappointment.

“Not yet. He starts tomorrow.”

You put your hands on your waist and walk from side to side as Jimin just watches you in silence.

“Jimin, at what time he’ll be home tomorrow? Do you think it’ll be too late in the night? I really need to talk to him, but that fucker keeps ignoring my texts.”

You don’t like the face Jimin is making now.

You really don’t like it.

He scratches the back of his neck and frowns. “He… he didn’t tell you?”

This makes you stop.

“Tell me what?”

Jimin exhales and gulps.

“He told you that he’ll start working for Mr. Choi, right? That director.”

“Yes.” Each word of his makes you more and more worried.

“So… this project he’s involved in…” Jimin licks his lips before continuing. “It’s overseas.”

You stare at him in silence as this information sinks in.

“Overseas?! Are you telling me he fucking left the country?!”

“Yes.”

You can’t believe what you just heard.

“B-But- yesterday Jungkook and I were planning to go out! This makes no sense!”

“Well,” Jimin looks hesitant again. “In fact, his flight is tomorrow morning, but he left earlier because we kind of had an argument.” He sends you an apologetic gaze. “He was drunk yesterday and all and I was trying to calm him down and I might have accidentally let it slip that I knew about you two, and this kinda pissed him off even more because, well, he was drunk and you know how Jungkook gets stupid when he’s drunk, so I think he left to his parent’s house and he’ll head to the airport tomo- wait, are you crying?!”

You sniff and hide your face behind your hands.

“Oh my God,” Jimin sounds confused and borderline panicked as he watches you start sobbing again. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“B-Because h-he-!” you can’t fucking speak anymore.

Jimin puts a hand on your back and guides you to sit on the couch. He brings some tissues and pats your back awkwardly as you cry and sob like stupid.

“W-Why didn’t he tell me he was l-leaving?” you ask yourself.

Jimin sighs. “Y/N, it’s not like he’s leaving forever. It’s just for this project. He’ll be back by the end of the week.”

“B-But he would’ve told me something so important!” You blow your nose. Jimin frowns. “I didn’t know this project was so huge! What, is it a movie or something?”

“It’s a music video.” You stare at Jimin in disbelief. “Jungkook has been around the recording studio with Namjoon and Yoongi a lot. He ended up meeting Mr. Choi, who has been directing some music videos for Big Hit Records’ artists. He liked Jungkook’s work and invited him to work as an assistant… I mean, the assistant of the assistant, as Jungkook himself said.”

You exhale, feeling your shoulders drop. “Why didn’t he tell me this?”

Jimin’s eyes soften. “Your friendship hasn’t been in the best shape these days, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it was this bad.”

You rest your elbows on your legs and hide your face behind your hands again. You didn’t want to be crying this bad again, yet you just can’t stop. You don’t even know why you’re crying anymore. Jimin just caresses your back in silence as your sobs start quieting down.

“You were right,” you say at some point.

“What?”

“When you told me not to hurt him. I was hurting him and I didn’t even realize. I’m so stupid.”

Jimin tilts his head. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Y/N. You were both stupid.” You side eye him.

“Jungkook said that he’s in love with me.” This makes him quirk his eyebrows.

“Oh.”

“You don’t look very surprised.”

“I’m not.”

“Did… did he tell you?”

“No.”

“Was it that obvious?”

Jimin presses his lips together hesitantly. “Do you want me to comfort you or do you want me to be honest?”

“Be honest.”

“It was pretty fucking obvious that he’s in love with you. At least for me.”

You exhale and swipe your hands over your face. “I’m so stupid!” you repeat.

“Look, Y/N, to be honest, I think Jungkook is the most stupid. He was torturing himself with this fuck buddies thing, you know? He agreed to it in the first place. Everyone knows that this type of thing shouldn’t involve feelings, but he was the one to throw himself into it while he already had feelings.”

“It’s not like he’s the only one, though.”

Jimin seems about to say something, but he stops and stares at you, jaw-dropped.

“Wait, what do you mean?”

You rest your back on the couch. “I mean that I was also stupid enough to throw myself into it while having feelings.”

He’s quiet for a few more seconds.

“Do you mean that you like him back?”

You don’t answer.

Much like Seulgi, it looks like Jimin just discovered something world-shocking. “Since when? Have you liked him since the beginning?”

You sigh sadly.

“No, I haven’t. To me, it was just fun. Until I realized that he was getting too far from my reach and- and I realized that Jungkook has never been too far, never, and I don’t know what to do when he’s not around.” You sniff. You’re not talking to Jimin anymore at this point; you’re talking to yourself. “Y-You know, now that I think about it, I… I guess I understand why it was always so good. Not just because he fucks good or because of his big dick-”

“I don’t need to hear this, do I?” Jimin whines in disgust.

“-but because it was him.” One more tear rolls down your cheek. “It was good because it was with him.”

The way you always felt comfortable to be naked in front of him. How it was always lighthearted and fun and exciting. You had good sex with other people before, but never like this. Maybe because these other people didn’t have Jungkook’s handsome smile or because their eyes didn’t gleam with excitement the way his does or because they didn't smell like baby powder. Or maybe because it was never scary to be exposed in front of him because he already knew everything about you - there wasn’t really anything else to expose.

Jungkook felt like home.

Now, you feel homeless.

You wipe the tears away once more and look at Jimin-

“Why are you smiling?”

Doesn’t this scene look familiar?

“I’m sorry, it’s just that- wow, I don’t even know what to say.” Jimin doesn’t even try to hide his smile. “I’ve been waiting so long for this. Like, I kind of suspected that you had feelings for him, but I couldn’t be sure because you’re a hard bitch to read. To be honest, when I saw what you two were doing I wanted to kill you because you couldn’t be this blind to not realize how he feels about you-”

“Can you stop being honest for a moment?”

“Oh.” Jimin gulps, but he can’t stop smiling. “I’m sorry.”

You sigh again and cross your arms. “What if he never lets me explain myself, Jimin?”

“Stop the drama.” Jimin’s voice hardens suddenly. “You two are very similar in this sense, you know? I’m sure that Jungkook will listen to whatever you have to say. And he’ll be away for just four days! It’s not like he’s leaving forever.”

You sit there in silence for some moments. You’re sure that if you tell that you’re scared to talk to Jungkook, he will probably beat you up. He never had that much patience.

Jimin exhales heavily and gets up. “Wait a minute.” You watch as he walks into Jungkook’s empty bedroom, frowning. He stays there for a little while. When he comes back to the living room, he stops in front of you and hands you something.

“Jungkook’s gonna kill me when he finds out, but I don’t care.”

“What is this-?”

“Just take it already. And watch it when you’re back home. It’s so personal that I got uncomfortable the first time I watched it.”

“Then why are you giving it to me-?”

“Just fucking take it, Y/N!”

You take the small device before Jimin makes you swallow it.

He smiles sweetly.

“Everything will be fine, okay? Don’t worry. I’m always right.”

You stare at the small black pen drive in between your fingers.

This time, you genuinely hope he’s right.

You had honestly forgotten how it feels to get drunk.

At the same time that the dizziness feels familiar, it's also hitting you like a truck. Your friends didn't believe you when you said that you'd stop drinking, yet you've been loyal to your word. Of course, it's not like you didn't drink anything in all those months, but a single beer isn't the same as a pack of beer.

The way your body's responding to the alcohol in your system isn't right. Your stomach is already tangling around itself, you can't walk a straight line from the couch to the kitchen counter without feeling that there's holes opening on the floor, and your thoughts are more incomprehensible than usual. You'd usually not get drunk so fast - and surely not with just beer. You're the girl that was still very sober after many tequila shots that time a random date of yours was trying to get you drunk - he ended up drunk after a few shots, of course, and you left the son of a bitch alone while he vomited on himself.

Being in love sure has changed you a lot.

Look, it's not the first time you drink to forget about your problems. You've been doing that since high school and you're tired of hearing Jungkook say how this behavior is unhealthy (he's right, as usual). This time, though, you're not forgetting about your problems, you're just thinking about them more.

It doesn't help that you're listening to Seulgi's playlist on Spotify called "i miss you irene." You laughed your ass off when you found out she really made a heartbreak playlist and named it like that. "You're torturing yourself, Seulgi," you told her. I mean, why would someone sad listen to songs that will only make them more sad?

Well.

Here you are now, laying on the carpet as Spending my Time by Roxette is blasting on the speakers.

People really knew how to write heartbreak songs back in the 90s.

"Fuck you, Jungkook." you mumble, staring at the ceiling. "I'm shoving alcohol up my ass. You can't tell me what to do."

Jungkook, that fucker. Why didn’t he listen to you? Why didn’t you shut him up? If there was a way to go back in time you’d do it. You wouldn’t have kissed Taehyung, you wouldn’t let him get the wrong impression. You wouldn’t have encouraged Jungkook to be with Joy. Fuck, if you could go back in time you would have woken up that first morning in Jungkook’s bed and said that it meant a lot to sleep with him, that you were willing to not be just friends anymore.

(Of course, back then you didn’t feel that way, but you’re drunk and sad. Give yourself a break.)

Now, you can’t tell him what you feel because he’s somewhere overseas. He probably bought new clothes for such an important occasion. You imagine him being in a real set for the first time, his eyes gleaming as he watches the staff working, him trying to hold his excited smile back because he’s supposed to look professional and-

You sniff. You have a stuffy nose. Fuck.

You're so drunk that you can't really control your actions anymore. If Seulgi were here, she would probably stop you. But she's not here. She's somewhere with Irene.

So you take your phone, tap the Instagram app and start typing.

[@you]: hell o 😅😂🤣😊

[@you]: its been a log time how u doing???

[@you]: what if we meeet????

And unfortunately, she replies.

[@yerimiese]: hi 🤗

[@yerimiese]: yeah, sure!

[@yerimiese]: when can we meet?

It’s the back pain that makes you wake up the next day because you slept on the floor. You’re dizzy and confused, your poor brain trying to understand what’s happening, why you’re on the floor, why there’s so many empty beer cans around you and why your phone is flashing with notifications from last night.

When your sight finally adjusts to the light your phone screen produces, your eyes widen and you stand up in a jump, making your back ache even more.

Did you seriously DM Yeri and she seriously agreed to meet you?!

It’s currently 11:40 AM - and you agreed to meet at noon.

You run to your bedroom so fast that it makes you dizzy and you end up hitting your hip against the doorframe and it feels like you fucking broke it. You just have time to wear the first clean clothes you see laying around, tie your hair up and run to take the first bus you see.

You could’ve just told Yeri that you weren’t going anymore, of course, even though she agreed to meet you and it would’ve been kind of rude. You know it’s going to be the most awkward moment ever to see her after so long, especially now that you have feelings for her ex. Gosh - you’re already feeling so much embarrassment that you feel like jumping out of the bus and running back home. Why the fuck do you always end up doing stupid things when you’re drunk?!

But again - it’s that same chaotic side of you that makes you stay inside the bus and meet her. This chaotic side takes a good portion of your personality, it just gets more outgoing when you’re drunk. The same chaotic side that made you start some friends with benefits bullshit with your best friend just because you liked the idea of not being caught and the same chaotic side that made you passive aggressively flirt with Taehyung when you didn’t really want anything with him-

How the fuck did your friends even stand you?!

You’re forced to stop the existential crisis when you see that you arrived at the park. You feel a shiver run down your spine.

Yeri is sitting on the bus stop.

She looks prettier than you remember; her hair is short and blonde now, which makes her look more mature. Yeri was always one to walk around well dressed, but right now it feels almost humiliating that she's all pretty when you literally look like a scarecrow.

She smiles awkwardly and gets up. You didn't even say anything yet and it already feels awkward.

"I’m so sorry, Yeri,” is the first thing you say as you approach each other. “Did I make you wait too long?”

“No! It’s alright. I also got a little bit late.” She says, smiling prettily. Pretty is a word that overall describes her very well. “So, how you’re doing?”

“I’m doing fine!” You’re doing anything but fine at the moment. “What about you?”

“I’m fine, too.”

Silence.

My good Lord.

You start to regret all of your life choices right here and right now. You don’t see this girl in almost a year, you’re not close anymore, you know nothing about her life. Why the fuck did you even come anyway?! The awkwardness is so big that you can almost touch it.

There’s also a small and annoying thought that grows as you watch her - a thought you try very hard to ignore, but you can’t - that this is the girl Jungkook used to fuck before he started fucking you, that he used to go down on her and that he used to be inside of her and that those pretty lips of her once were around his cock and for some reason you start getting really angry-

“Do you wanna have a drink?” Yeri suddenly says.

You blink. “Hm… it’s 12PM.”

“And?” She quirks an eyebrow.

She’s perceptive, this one. Nothing’s better to break the ice than alcohol.

You don’t even know what you’re doing here anyway, so who cares?

“Sure. I know a bar nearby.”

Yeri slams the empty glass on the counter and stares at you, shocked.

“Mike did what?!”

You nod and swallow one more shot. Your tastebuds are so used (even calloused) from this bitter taste that you don’t even scowl as the drink slides down your throat. “Yeah. It seems that he was cheating on me for a while with that bitch. I caught them inside the lab.”

Yeri stares ahead. She looks speechless. “I will be honest… I heard that he was cheating on you, but I never thought this happened.” She shakes her head slowly. “Why the fuck were they inside a lab anyways? Are they stupid?”

“The lab was deactivated. That part of the science building was being renovated.” You sigh. Reviving those memories is kind of painful right now, especially after what Mike did to you some nights ago. Honestly, he could die and you wouldn’t care. “I was looking for him. His friends told me he went in that direction… well, kinda weird that they snitched on him like that. Maybe they really didn’t know. Anyways, I still don’t know how they got the key to the lab.”

Yeri nods. “Wow… I am really, really shocked. You guys were a pretty couple.” She gesticulates with her hand. “One more shot, please.”

“Me too, please.” You say.

The bartender looks at you two with visible worry. There’s no one else in the bar - who the fuck drinks so much this early? Wait, why is this bar even opened this early? - so he’s obviously hearing your whole conversation. You wonder what’s his opinion on your fucked up love life.

“Are you sure, girls? Shouldn’t you slow down a little bit?” He asks hesitantly.

You wave your hand dismissively. “Nah, we’re good.” You’re still not dizzy, just a little talkative. Getting drunk yesterday seemed to awaken all of your high tolerance superpowers. Pretty Yeri also isn’t one to get drunk that easily.

“We’re strong girls.” She reassures. The bartender shrugs as he prepares two more shots. “You seemed to like him a lot.”

“I did.” You admit.

“And he seemed to like you, too. I never expected that. Well… to be honest, Jungkook sometimes told me that he didn’t like Mike and that he was sure that he wasn’t a good guy.”

The sudden mention of his name makes you freeze. You realize that Yeri freezes, too. It seems that she’s also surprised for bringing him up like this. Yeri looks down at the new shot the bartender just placed in front of you two.

“It seems that he was right. As usual.” She finishes in a much lower voice, drinking her shot in one go.

This single sentence makes you realize that “Jungkook” is still a delicate topic for her. Of course it’d be - you don’t know much about their break up, but you sure know it was anything but friendly. Jungkook got pretty fucked up for a few weeks after their break up - and the fact that he refuses to talk about it to this day is enough of an indication.

Shit.

“Anyways, it didn’t stop there.” You decide to go back to your suffering for now, so she can get distracted. “The day before yesterday I bumped into him. He was drunk and made a scandal. Called me a bitch in front of everyone.”

Yeri gasps and looks at you wide eyed. “What? Please, tell me someone punched the fuck out of him!”

“Yeah, my friend did before I could.” You’re not telling her which friend, of course. “It was satisfying. Still made me feel really bad, though.”

“You shouldn’t. You did nothing wrong, Y/N. He’s the son of a bitch here.” Yeri reassures.

You nod and drink. “But enough of talking about my depressing love life. What about you?”

Yeri sighs, holding the small cup with both hands. “I’m doing fine, I guess. Didn’t really get serious with anyone yet. I’m seeing a guy, though. I don’t think I like him yet, but he’s about right. Who knows?” She says, shrugging.

You nod slowly. We’re getting into dangerous waters now. “I’m glad we’re both moving on, I guess.”

Yeri goes quiet for a while.

“Yeah. I guess so.”

A deep silence settles after this. You stare at the empty cup blankly, feeling the tension building up.

"I… have to be honest." Yeri starts quietly. "It was surprising that you called me after so long." She taps her nails on the counter slowly. "And I have the feeling that you called me for a very specific reason."

You nod slowly. She's not stupid. "You're right."

Yeri hesitates for a second. "You didn't… Jungkook didn't ask you to come here to talk to me, right?"

You almost gasp. Jungkook doesn't even dream that you're with her right now. "No, no. He didn't. You know I'm kinda nosy, but I have my limits too."

Yeri quirks her eyebrows and nods. You really hope that this tiny thing you saw deep in her eyes wasn't disappointment. You really hope that deep down Yeri doesn't still like him.

"So… why did you call me, then?"

You sigh. She came all this way just to meet you, so you have to at least be honest right now.

"I was drunk yesterday when I texted you."

"Oh." Yeri widens her eyes. "I thought there was something wrong with you by the way you were texting."

You chuckle. "But… I did call you because of Jungkook, somehow." You say carefully, She stiffens. "I know it's kinda cruel to do this. If you want to simply leave or if you want to slap me, I won't judge you. But… we had a really ugly fight these days and I don't know what to do. I was hoping that maybe… maybe you could help me understand him."

Yeri goes very, very quiet after this.

"Did you guys fight because of me?" She asks after a while.

"No and yes." Yeri was one of the things that got you overthinking anyways. "I… I really need to know. Again, you don't need to tell me if you don't want to. But… why did you guys break up?"

Yeri turns her head slowly to look at you. There's something very serious and hardened on her eyes.

"He never told you." It wasn't a question. You shake your head. "Well, I figured he wouldn't." She looks back to the cup between her hands; you can see she's thinking hard. "Y/N, I always admired your friendship with him. What you have is something truly special. Maybe you won't want to know why. Maybe I don't want to tell you because I don't want to destroy your friendship."

"My relationship with Jungkook won't ever go back to what it used to be anyways. I don't care."

Yeri looks surprised. She still hesitates for some moments - what makes your blood boil in expectation - but finally sighs and nods.

"Alright, then." She crosses her arms. "I broke up with him because of you."

You stare at her, jaw dropped.

"What? What did I do?" You ask, genuinely confused.

"You did nothing." She chuckles drily. "That's why I couldn't hate you, you know. And I tried to hate you really hard."

You don't know what to say. Some girls Jungkook had some sort of relationship with were very jealous of you, you knew, but Yeri was different. "Were you… were you jealous of me and him? But Yeri- you know we weren't like that."

This is not a lie. You weren't like that while they still dated. You were too stupidly in love with Mike to notice the person that was standing right by your side all along.

"I know." She nods. "I know you didn't. But Jungkook did."

You freeze.

"What?"

Yeri finally looks at you again - clear sadness on her eyes.

"Jungkook loves you. Not in a way a friend does."

You’re absolutely speechless.

Your heart is beating so fast that you think you’re about to faint. Your brain malfunctions and it seems that you lost the ability to speak for a few moments. This shouldn’t shock you - Jungkook confessed his feelings himself not long ago, and Jimin also said how he knew about Jungkook’s feelings - goddamn, even Seulgi noticed it a little bit. But back then? When he was still dating Yeri?

“B-But Yeri-” you hate the way you’re stuttering and you hate how Yeri is telling you something she obviously doesn’t like, but you still feel so fucking happy and fuzzy inside. “Jungkook was in love with you. I’m sure.”

“I thought so, too. And he thought he was in love with me.” Yeri stares ahead again, and in this moment you realize that yes, it still hurts her. “You know… Jungkook was too much like a dream.” She chuckles to herself, as if she can’t believe in what she’s saying. “He was perfect in every sense. His good looks, the way he was always so sweet… God, even the way he’s in bed.” Yes, he’s unbeatable in bed, you want to agree. “Too perfect to be true.”

Yeri goes quiet again for a while. She stares at the cup as if it’s showing her something important she can’t look away from.

“I started to realize why it was so perfect.” Her voice sounds painfully fragile. “He was trying too hard. Always trying his best. At first I thought that it was a good thing… We all want someone that’s always trying their best for you, right? But then… then, I started to watch how he acted when he was around you. Y-You know what’s worst in all this? It’s not like you two gave me actual reason to be jealous. You were never touchy around each other. You were even dating back then, and you two avoided going out together because Mike and Jungkook never got along well. I know it.” She sounds like she wants to cry. It makes you feel really, really bad.

“But… fuck, it was the way Jungkook acted with you, the way he talked to you, the way he looked at you, that smile he just showed when you were around. With you, he wasn’t trying anything. He didn’t need to try. I saw how he was so comfortable around you and… well, I didn’t need to be a genius to understand that he was so stupidly in love with you that it got him blind.” Yeri inhales and exhales deeply. “Jungkook was too much like a dream. But everyone has to wake up sometime, and I didn’t want to be there when he woke up from his. So I left him before I could get any more hurt.”

You can just stare at her, jaw dropped, adrenaline making your breathing shaky.

“Yeri, I never… I didn’t…” you stupidly stutter.

“I know you didn’t.” She nods. “I even pitied Jungkook, you know. Because he didn’t want to see what he really felt, and because you obviously didn’t feel the same.” Yeri chuckles. “That’s why I can’t hate you. That’s also what gave me some sense of revenge. At least he’s suffering a little bit.”

You’re both very, very quiet for some time.

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly. She doesn’t know you’re apologizing for putting her under the torture of telling those memories that are still painful for her. You weren’t expecting that Yeri still felt so affected by her past relationship even after so long.

“You don’t need to apologize.” She shakes her head slowly. “It wasn’t meant to be. That’s all. We would both keep suffering like that.” Yeri exhales again and looks at you. “Well… I guess I’m going now. I really hope I didn’t completely kill your relationship with him.”

She didn’t.

She quite helped to save it, actually.

Yeri takes some money from her purse and puts it over the counter, paying for her drinks. As she gets up from the stool, you say:

“Thank you for telling me, Yeri. I really wish you all the happiness you deserve.”

The blonde girl opens a small smile. You see why Jungkook fell - well, at least thought he fell - for her. Maybe Yeri doesn’t know it, but she also looks like a dream. You just hope she’ll find someone that will wake her up to see the most beautiful, warm and lovely reality.

“Thanks. See you around.”

She leaves.

You just sit there, all alone, staring at the counter.

Well- not exactly alone.

The bartender is furiously side-eyeing you.

“What?” You ask drily.

He presses his lips together. “I don’t think I should say anything…”

You tilt your head. “Go ahead. You heard everything anyway.”

The bartender stops in front of you. There’s something wise about him. That’s probably the result of hearing hundreds and hundreds of love stories every night - day, in your case.

“That dude you guys were talking about,” he says. “Your friend. You like him, right?”

You stare at him seriously. “Why would you think that?”

“Because your eyes lit up so much as she talked that I thought you were going to explode.”

Fuck. You can’t even pretend anymore. You avoid his gaze, embarrassed, and nod. “I do.”

He lifts his eyebrows. “Then, and excuse my intrusive ass, what the fuck are you waiting for?” He almost looks annoyed, as if he’s having to explain something painfully obvious. “Go after him, woman!”

You stare at him.

He’s right.

What the fuck are you waiting for?

Oh, right. You’re waiting until he comes back, because he’s fucking overseas.

It makes you so, so angry. After everything you just heard, after everything you’re feeling right now, you wanted nothing more but to run to him and make him listen to you. You want to see him, to hug him, to make him understand that he’s your most important person in the world, that you can’t see yourself in a world where he isn’t around.

But guess what - you’ll have to wait three days to meet him.

You look so grumpy on your way back home that people deliberately avoid looking at you. Seulgi and Irene are there when you arrive; Seulgi looks worried, Irene looks confused, you just decide to say you’re alright and lock yourself inside your bedroom because you can’t physically look at a happy couple right now.

You throw yourself on the bed and scream against a pillow.

If someone told you you’d be feeling so many things when all of this started, you wouldn’t have believed. You were always someone to continuously keep the fuck it button pressed - or at least, you pretended you did. Like that, you could trick your heart into believing you weren’t hurt by some jerk who cheated on you, that you didn’t feel like a piece of shit for drowning your problems in alcohol, that you didn’t care that most of your “friends” just cared about you when it came to parties and having fun, that there was never really anyone that truly took you seriously in a relationship.

It’s really easy to pretend those things aren’t real. But it’s just like Yeri said - one moment, everyone has to wake up. To you, waking up means facing the consequences of your actions, to face your feelings.

And it really hurts right now.

It also reminds you that the person you’d usually let your guard down for was Jungkook. You were never embarrassed to be weak in front of him - and it was the other way round. You were always in tune. Always in synergy.

This makes you remember the little black pen drive laying on the nightstand.

You sit in a jump, taking your laptop and the pen drive. Just feeling the device between your fingers makes you feel nervous… that’s why you still didn’t check what’s inside of it yet. Jimin said it was something personal. You’ve been hesitating to see whatever it is.

It can’t be bad, can it?

You plug the pen drive in your laptop.

The files tab pops up. There’s actually only one file inside the pen drive - a video. It’s called euphoria final test i swear to god.

You chuckle. This is so Jungkook.

Your finger still hovers over the touchpad hesitantly. It looks like one of Jungkook’s test videos - you’ve seen plenty of those. Nothing new. Nothing to be scared of. You double click.

The video opens up and fills up the screen.

It’s a vertical video recorded on selfie mode. Jungkook is walking down the university hall; he has a playful smile on his lips. The video shows you walking by his side, a grumpy expression on your face.

You remember this. He actually posted this on his Instagram stories around one year ago. His hair was way shorter back then. Why does he still have something so silly?

“Y/N’s team lost the championship.” Jungkook says. Of course he looks happy. He roots for the rival team. “How are you feeling right now?”

“Fuck you.” Is all you say.

Jungkook laughs loudly.

Another video.

A song kicks in.

It starts with the sweet melody of a piano. You frown, not recognizing this song at all.

Then the voice of the singer kicks in, and you feel your whole body freezing.

It’s Jungkook’s voice.

He sounds soft and angelic as you’ve always known - only this time, through professional mics and mixing. This itself is already shocking. You always felt blessed for being one of the few people to know of Jungkook’s singing ability, but this is different. He sounds like a professional singer, someone that makes a living out of it.

You remember Namjoon’s voice.

Hah, Jungkook didn’t tell you yet? He has been working with us! We’re doing a good job. He lent his voice to record some demos.

You then remember what Jungkook told you.

I… I kind of helped them write a song. I felt kind of inspired. It was just for fun, though.

Maybe I’ll let you listen to it any other day.

Is… is this the song he was talking about?

Jungkook’s sweet voice sings:

You are the sunlight that rose again in my life

A reincarnation of my childhood dreams

I don’t know what these emotions are

Am I still dreaming?

Your breathing is irregular. Your fingers are shaking slightly.

Because as if his voice wasn’t enough to singlehandedly make you feel completely lost, the video is still passing on.

Videos of you.

You sitting on the university’s library, reading a book. You crying that time you ate tacos that were way too spicy, Jungkook’s laughter from behind his phone ringing softly over the song. You playing Just Dance with Seulgi, ridiculously trying to follow the doll’s moves on the TV. You running after Jungkook down the hall as he laughs because he stole your last cookie. You dancing around your kitchen as you prepare breakfast. You and him singing to Staying Alive that night at Burger King, both of you visibly drunk. Your shocked reaction as you watched a plot twist unfold on the TV - an anime he insisted so much for you to watch that you ended up watching.

I hear the ocean from far away

Across the dream, past the woods

I'm following this clarity

Take my hands now

You are the cause of my euphoria

You remember some of those videos. He posted some of them on his Instagram or Snapchat. Some of them you sent him yourself. Some of them, though, you had no idea that existed. Videos of you doing… nothing. Scrolling down your phone. Reading a book. Watching TV. Some of them look more professional - those are from the times you accepted to be his “model” so he could test his techniques, yet he never let you see any of those videos.

Just you.

You, you, you and you.

Were you wandering around

Looking for an erased dream too?

It’s different from what destiny suggests

We share the same painful views

Won't you please stay in my dreams

Yes, both of you had erased dreams. Your erased dream was Mike. His erased dream was Yeri.

Jungkook thought that you would never be more than friends. What he felt, though, was different from what he thought destiny suggested.

The way you drifted apart from each other. The pain you went through, watching your friendship slowly die. You shared the same painful views.

You don’t know at what moment you start to cry, but now, tears are freely dripping down your cheeks.

Even if the earth crumbles

No matter who shakes this world

Don't let go of my hand

Please don’t wake me up from this dream

You remember that time you were looking at the pictures Jungkook took at a wedding, and you noticed how the groom looked at his future wife with overflowing love. You wondered to yourself if someone has ever looked - or ever would - look at you the same way.

Well, sometimes… sometimes I caught him looking at you in some type of way.

It was the way Jungkook acted with you, the way he talked to you, the way he looked at you, that smile he just showed when you were around.

You’re not seeing him in this video.

Yet, it shows how Jungkook sees you. And you can’t help but think… in his eyes, you look beautiful.

He sings beautifully. Passionately.

Take my hands now

You are the cause of my euphoria

Euphoria

Close the door now

When I’m with you I’m in utopia

As the song slowly ends, the screen shows a last shot from a very old video you didn’t even remember. It’s from your graduation day from high school… actually, a video your mother recorded. The difference is clear from how shaky the camera is. You can’t help but think you look too goofy in your old school uniform.

“Y/N, it’s your graduation day! Next year you’ll live by yourself in a big city!”

“Thanks God. Less bills to pay for,” you hear your father jokingly say somewhere out of sight. You roll your eyes, but still laugh.

“Thank you so much, Dad. I see how much you love me.”

“But I love you, sweetie!”

“Shut up, darling. I’m trying to do an interview.” Your mother shushes him. “So, how do you feel, Y/N?”

You look thoughtful for a moment. That stupid teenager on the screen looks so full of hopes and courage. So young, so naive. “I’m a little bit scared, but I’m excited.” You say.

Then you smile, as if remembering something very important.

“Besides, Jungkook will live next to me, so I’ll be alright.”

The video ends.

You just sit there, sobbing uncontrollably for the next few minutes.

When you clicked that file, you never expected this.

You never expected to feel so loved with just a video.

At the same time, it makes an urge - the strongest urge you’ve ever felt in your life - flow through you. You need to tell Jungkook how wrong those lyrics are.

He doesn’t have to keep dreaming anymore. You’ve woken up from your own dream - and you’re ready to show him the real world in which you love him back, unconditionally.

Irene and Seulgi look worried as they see you marching out of your bedroom, sniffling, tears streaming down your cheeks. Before Irene can say anything, you put both hands on her shoulders and look at her seriously.

“Remember when you said you owed me one? That you’d help me with whatever I needed?”

Irene starts to look scared. “Yes.”

“Were you serious?”

“Of course!”

“Good. Then I need you to buy a flight ticket for me. Today.”

“Are you sure that’s the right hotel, Jimin?” you ask out of breath, your phone almost falling as you balance it between your ear and your shoulder, your hands busy holding your passport and flight ticket. You, Irene and Seulgi run inside the airport, looking like three crazy women in a dangerous mission - which isn’t too far from reality.

“I’m sure, Y/N!” Jimin says through the phone, starting to sound a little bit annoyed. “God, you asked me this a hundred times!”

“But I need to be sure! Can’t you ask him once again?”

“He will start to get suspicious. I already had to make up one hell of an excuse to make him tell me which room he’s in without sounding creepy.”

“Room 23, right?”

“Room 32!”

“So, is he sure that’s the right hotel?” Irene asks.

“Yes.”

She clicks something on her phone. “Good. It’s not too far from the airport. You’re lucky there was a room available!”

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?” Seulgi asks, looking borderline panicked. “You’re not going to die if you wait a few days until he comes back.”

“Yes, I am going to die if I wait any longer.”

“So dramatic.” Jimin says over the phone. You can even see him rolling his eyes.

“Shut up!”

“Why are you telling me to shut up?!” Seulgi asks, offended.

“No! I was talking to Jimin!” You finally hold the phone with your hand. “Okay, Jimin. I’m hanging up. Thank you so much for your help.”

“Don’t fucking die out there.” Jimin says, but you can hear the smile on his voice. “Good luck!”

You shove the phone inside your back pocket and turn around to look at them.

“Y/N, I don’t trust you alone in a foreign country.” Seulgi says. She does look panicked.

“I don’t trust myself either, but it’s alright.” You reassure her - but she only looks more nervous. You didn’t even bring a suitcase, choosing to just take a backpack with a few clothes and extremely necessary items.

Irene takes something from her wallet and hands it to you. “Here’s my credit card. I will text you the password later.”

You widen your eyes. “Irene, that’s not necessary…”

She shrugs in a dismissing demeanour. “Of course it is. How will you survive out there without money?” This kinda reminds you that this is only one of her credit cards and that whatever money you spend won’t really mean much to her. Still, you take the card hesitantly, making a mental promise to not spend more than the utmost necessary. “Your room is booked. You can ask a taxi to take you directly to the hotel. There’s no way to get lost.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that…” Seulgi says under her breath.

“Seulgi, I will fucking beat you up.”

“Sorry! I’m nervous!” She admits.

Your gaze softens. “I promise I won’t die, okay?”

She steps closer and hugs you tightly. “Be safe. Huh, you’re so stupid, but this is so romantic! It feels like I’m watching a Netflix romcom movie in real life!”

“Why do you always have to bring Netflix up?” Irene wonders under her breath. Seulgi sends her a menacing glare as she steps back again. “Anyways, if you need anything, please call us. Call us as soon as you get out of the plane. Keep us informed.”

“Okay.” You jump over to hug Irene; she gets visibly surprised, not really the type of person to appreciate a lot of physical contact. “Thank you so much, Irene! You’re saving my life!”

“The same way you saved mine.” She giggles. “Now go, unless you want to lose your flight!”

You wave them goodbye one last time before walking to the check-in area.

Yeah. You know that this is very, very stupid to do. You could wait three days. But when your impulsive, chaotic side takes control, you can’t really hold it back. That’s why you get inside the plane even though you’re really fucking scared of flights, going to a country you know absolutely nothing about.

But it’s alright. You’ll be with Jungkook, so it’s alright. Even if he rejects you - it’s alright.

Your chaotic side says that you’ll annoy him until he at least listens to you - and this time, you don’t think your chaotic side is all that wrong.

You get lost.

Which is dumb, because there were lots of information boards around the airport. Maybe that’s why you got lost - too much information, your peanut-sized brain couldn’t process all of that. After walking around the gigantic place for a good thirty minutes, only stopping to buy something very important on a vending machine, you find the exit and the taxi area. The taxi driver sees how desperate you are and it looks like he pities you.

Irene was right; the hotel is only twenty minutes away from the airport. It’s not a super hotel, but it looks like it’s much more expensive than you’d be able to pay (you couldn’t even pay for the flight tickets anyway).

You get more and more and more and more nervous at each passing minute. You feel like you’re about to fucking explode as the receptionist types something you can’t see. When he gives you the key card for your room, you feel goosebumps run down your spine.

It’s now.

Getting inside the elevator, you press the button to Jungkook’s floor. You don’t even want to drop your things in your own room before meeting him. You’re so nervous that, if you wait a little bit more, you’re sure that you’ll pass out.

Every step of yours on the corridor’s carpeted floor echoes in your ears. Your heart beats furiously. Your hands are trembling slightly and you feel cold in your stomach.

Room 23.

You stand in front of it, frozen.

Oh my God.

As expected, you don’t know what you’ll say when you see him. You tried to plan a speech the entire flight as a way to forget you were thousands of feet away from the ground and how fucking scared it made you, but you couldn’t think of anything.

You inhale and exhale deeply. It’s alright. It’s Jungkook who you’re talking about. You’ve always known how to act around him. Right now it’s no different.

Finally, you knock on the door.

“J-Jungkook?” You call, your voice failing slightly.

No response.

Weird. Jimin made sure that Jungkook wouldn’t be working anymore at this hour.

“Jungkook, it’s me. Can we… can we talk, please?” You say a little bit louder, knocking on the door once more. You can't hear any noise coming from inside the room. Come on, Jungkook. You have to open the door before any security guard can drag me away from here.

Your breathing is difficult. Your hands are trembling slightly. It feels that the floor is opening holes under your feet.

"Jungkook, I know you're mad at me. But please… please, let me at least explain myself." It's stupid how you already feel your eyes welling up with tears. Since when you became such a cry baby? Your chest tightens, hurts. "Y-You can't just leave me outside your room like this. Stop being a jerk. I need to tell you… I-I need to tell you that I lo-"

"Y/N?"

You freeze.

You turn around, looking at the exact opposite room in the hallway.

It's him.

Jungkook still holds the doorknob, indicating that he just opened it. He's barefoot, wears shorts and a long sleeved shirt, all black. His damp hair falling slightly over his eyes indicates that he probably just took a shower.

His eyes are so widened that it looks like they're about to pop out of his face.

He sincerely looks at you like you're the weirdest thing he has ever seen in his life.

"W-What-" he stutters, looking like he can't form a coherent sentence. "What the fuck?!"

You're still frozen in place.

You turn around again, looking at the door you were knocking on.

Room 23.

You look back at Jungkook again - the sign on his door.

Room 32.

"Oh." Is all you can say.

Shame suddenly makes your shoulders weight. You really, really hope there's no one inside Room 23.

You both stand there, staring at each other with widened eyes like two scared chipmunks. Your neck and face feels very, very hot.

Jungkook looks like he's recovering from the shock. He didn't hear anything you said, apparently.

"W-What exactly are you doing here?" Jungkook asks, tilting his head to the side. He frowns, looking at you like you're an exotic species.

"Oh." You repeat. Your brain is malfunctioning. You step closer, simply showing him the plastic bag you're holding. "I-I brought you this."

His eyes go from you to the plastic bag and to you again.

"It's banana milk." You explain hurriedly. He widens his eyes slightly. "I mean- it's this country's equivalent of banana milk, I guess. It's the closest thing I could buy in the vending machine."

Jungkook raises his hand slowly and takes it. He's moving carefully, as if this exotic species can jump on him and bite him at any moment.

"Did you take a 5 hour flight just to buy me banana milk?"

"Yes." You agree mindlessly. You feel your entire body burning now. "A-And I also came here to talk, because your dramatic ass didn't let me speak the other day."

Jungkook quirks one eyebrow and crosses his arms slowly. "Alright. I'm listening to you now."

He stares at you very seriously.

His gaze is overwhelming. It almost feels that you're getting small under his eyes. Gosh - you've been wanting to see him for days, but right now, when he's right in front of you, you can't say a damn thing, your brain completely overheating, your braincells melting. You thought you'd know how to act when you met him - but ha, guess what? You don't.

And that motherfucker is just standing there, waiting for you to speak. Just staring at you.

You hold the doorknob in a swift moment and close the door on his face, just letting enough of it open so he can still hear you.

"What-?" He gasps from inside the room.

"Shut up, okay?! I just can't speak looking at you right now." You hold the doorknob so tightly that your knuckles get white. You hate the way your voice is trembling and you hate the way your sight can't really focus on anything around you - that's just how nervous you are.

Jungkook doesn't say anything. You feel him leaning on the other side of the door, waiting patiently.

You inhale and exhale heavily.

"You got so fucking angry at me when I said you were my best friend that night.” You start, not really knowing where you’re going with this. You don’t even know if it’s possible to convey everything you feel through words only. “But you know, it’s- it’s true. You are my best friend. But what you didn’t let me explain is that you’re not just my best friend.”

Your heartbeat thunders on your ears at each word. You can’t see Jungkook’s expression, and at the same time it helps you keep talking, it also makes you more anxious.

“Y-You’ve been with me through everything. You were there with me when I broke my arm when we were kids, and you were there to help me when I thought I wouldn’t get into college, and you were there with me to celebrate when I got into college. It’s even embarrassing that you’ve seen all of my lowest moments.” You rest your head on the door, staring at the carpet under your feet. The first tears roll down your cheeks. “You know everything about me and sometimes I hate it. You’re like… fuck, I hate how cheesy this sounds, but you’re like a part of me. A-And you’re the best part, because- I don’t know how to explain, but you’re always the one making my average self want to be more.”

Normal you would never say something like this. You’re far from being an emotional person and you’re shit with words. But right now you’re crying and sniffling and trembling and you can’t shut your mouth anymore.

“Please, you have to believe me. I would never purposefully hurt you. Whenever I see you sad I die a little bit inside, and to know that I was the cause of your sadness is fucking killing me. It’s killing me.” You sob. “I don’t want to be the cause of your sadness ever again. I-I want to return all the good things you’ve done to me. So, please… I know I’m a pain in the ass to deal with, b-but if you’d let me be by your side… if you’d just bear me a little bit longer until I become someone that you’d want to be with-”

Jungkook opens the door.

You hear him whispering under his breath wait, wait, wait, interrupting you. Gently, he puts his hands on your arms and pulls you inside the room, closing the door right after, so now your back is against the door - right in front of him.

He stares at you, lips parted, eyebrows slightly knitted together. He looks stunned. Very, very confused. And very hopeful.

His starry eyes are welling up with tears.

“What… what do you mean with all this?” Jungkook asks softly. He almost sounds scared. “What do you really mean?”

You stare at him in silence. His beautiful face. His beautiful self.

You’ve never been so sure about anything in your life.

“I love you.” you confess, your voice cracking slightly. “I-I fucking love you. I’m sorry that I took so long to realize.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen.

The next thing you know is that his lips are against yours.

He drops the plastic bag full of banana milk on the floor, holding the back of your neck with one hand and pressing your body against his with the other. He tastes like toothpaste and tears; you can barely breathe, adrenaline rushing through your bloodstream, your fingers grabbing the strands of his damp hair.

When he finally lets go of your lips, you’re both out of breath and trembling.

Then, he smiles - and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

He wipes the tears away from your cheeks as his own cheeks are wet with tears. His eyes are smiling too, and you think that you want to keep that smile forever.

“Y-You have… you have no idea of how long- how long I dreamed of hearing this,” Jungkook says quietly, his voice cracking a little bit. He giggles, frowning his eyebrows slightly as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing right in front of him. “I can’t believe you took a fucking plane to bring me banana milk! How can I stay mad at you when you do this type of thing?!”

You start giggling too. His warmth, his scent of baby powder, the way his eyes are shining as much as diamonds - this is something you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t know you’d ever have.

“God- I fucking love you, too.”

Your heart feels filled.

You smash your lips on his again.

It’s desperate and intense and makes your senses completely dizzy.

You feel the backpack dropping from your shoulders right before Jungkook lifts you up as if you weigh nothing and you circle your legs around his waist. Without breaking the kiss, he carries you to where the bed is, sitting down with you on his lap.

Adrenaline and excitement washes over your body in anticipation. It’s even familiar at this point - his gaze clouded with want, your heavy breathings, hands grabbing and caressing everywhere they can find. Jungkook moans quietly against your lips as you grip his hair tightly, humping your clothed core very slowly against his growing erection.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispers in that deep voice that makes goosebumps run down your skin, his lips against your neck as he kisses and sucks it. You giggle.

“We fucked just a few days ago,” you point out.

“I miss this everyday. All the time.”

You hold his face, forcing him to look at you.

You might be shit at words, you might not know how to express yourself that well. But one thing you know better than anyone else is how to make him feel good.

So, softly, you push him back until you’re hovering above him and he’s propped up by his elbows.

You don’t say anything. You just smile and start to take his shirt off.

He doesn’t complain.

Your hands roam his exposed skin as you kiss and suck his neck gently. While your lips are still glued on his neck, one of your hands travels to caress his clothed member. Quiet moans come from the back of his throat. Slowly, you kiss your way down his chest and stomach - until you’re kneeled in front of his opened legs.

Jungkook is breathing heavily in anticipation. Maybe it’s the sole sight of you biting your bottom lip as you manage to get his member free from his boxers and shorts that makes it throb. He has to gulp when he sees you spitting on his dick, the feeling of your spit trickling down his member making goosebumps roam his skin.

You hold his member and start to bump it slowly at first - which makes waves of pure pleasure wash over Jungkook, stunning his senses. He hisses when your lips envelop the head of his cock, sucking it. His eyes are half lidded, lips slightly parted, Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulps. He looks so beautiful as he’s being pleasured.

You start taking more of him inside your mouth until you feel him on your throat; Jungkook moans louder. You bob your head up and down his length, taking turns between sucking and bumping his member with your hand, your spit making it easier and producing obscene sounds. Jungkook hisses and groans and moans and then he’s grabbing your hair, making you take more of him inside your mouth. You don’t complain. You just want to make him feel the best he has ever felt.

This time, though, it’s being much quieter than what it usually is. Jungkook just swears a little under his breath. No dirty talking.

His face and neck are covered with blush, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead, his face distorted with pure pleasure. His moans are getting more constant and louder. You wouldn’t mind if he cummed in your mouth right now, but Jungkook hisses and takes his hand off your hair.

“Oh my God- stop. Stop. Come here, babe.”

You decide to just do as he said. As soon as you prop your knees on each side of him, Jungkook sits up again and starts to get rid of your clothing hurriedly - first your pants, then your coat and shirt. When he unclasps your bra, he immediately takes one of your breasts on his mouth, making you moan quietly. His hand pushes your panties to the side to meet your already wet core; you moan louder as he gently caresses it. You unconsciously start moving your hips against his hand, his movements adding more pressure over your clit, his lips still licking and sucking your breasts.

Jungkook decides this was enough to get you wetter. He pushes your panties to the side, holds both sides of your hips as you guide his member to your entrance.

Both of you moan as he enters.

You close your eyes tightly, the feeling of being stretched by him so familiar and so delicious. Steadying yourself on his shoulders, you start to guide yourself up and down on him, never breaking eye contact, watching him carefully. Every deep moan coming from him makes you shiver. The pleasure, the sound of skin hitting skin - how many times have you done it before? You don’t even remember. Yet, right now, it somehow feels fresh and new.

Maybe it’s because there’s more in Jungkook’s eyes than just lust. Maybe it’s because you notice how he watches you with adoration. And maybe it’s because you watch him with the same intensity, the same feeling.

Jungkook grabs the skin of your hips tightly as you increase your pace. He loves your face contorted in pleasure, he loves the sight of your boobs jumping at each move, he loves to feel the soft skin of your ass on his hand. He loves it. Both of you are really sweating now. You kiss him deeply, never decreasing your pace, your tongues entangling around each other, grabbing the strands of his hair.

God, how much he loves it.

He loves it much more now, because he sees how this time, he’s not the only one feeling something beyond physical pleasure. He knows you too damn well. It’s just like that morning at your house. You’re feeling it, too.

You love him, too.

Thinking about it makes him smile. You think it’s simultaneously the hottest and the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.

Jungkook simply circles his arms around your waist and completely switches positions, throwing you on your back on the bed, which makes you giggle. He finally gets rid of your panties and hovers over you, thrusting inside of you once again.

His pace is fast and steady from the beginning. Your moans get higher and higher, louder and louder. You love how his face is so close to yours, how strongly he’s hitting you, how he tightly intertwines his fingers with yours (Jungkook really is the type to intertwine his hands when having sex!)

It’s ridiculous how you feel your eyes welling up with tears in a moment like this.

This moment… It’s not just bodies connecting - it’s souls.

You used to think you and Jungkook didn’t match; you were opposites in many ways. Jungkook is an introvert, you are an extrovert. Jungkook prefers quiet places, you prefer parties. Jungkook works out, you’re too lazy to do so. Jungkook hates coffee. You can’t live without it.

But, it’s in this moment - when he’s inside of you, when all of your senses are stunned by pure pleasure, when everything you can smell is him and everything you can hear is the sounds of bodies against bodies and when everything you can see is his beautiful starry eyes looking right back at you - is when you realize how wrong you were all along.

You’re like two jigsaw puzzle pieces. They need to be different to match. They are different, but when you put them two together, they complete each other.

You’ve always matched.

Seulgi didn't expect to find Jungkook standing in the kitchen when she came home.

Of course - you told her that the flight back home was scheduled at night and you'd probably arrive in the morning. This shouldn't be surprising. Yet, Seulgi still widens her eyes when she sees Jeon Jungkook cooking breakfast, his hair a mess, his face slightly swollen - an indication that he just woke up - wearing shorts and a white t-shirt.

He turns around and smiles. "Oh! Y/N didn't tell me you were coming back so early." He sounds a little bit surprised.

Seulgi notices it immediately.

That smile on his face and those gleamy eyes are just shown by someone that had a long, steamy and tiring night of sex.

Sure, Seulgi knows that you and Jungkook made up - and that you've been fucking for months now - but damn, it's still shocking to see it with her own eyes, considering that you only looked like good friends.

"I didn't know I'd come back early, too." Seulgi says, sitting by the tiny kitchen counter. She was expecting to spend the weekend at Irene’s penthouse, but she had to work. This is one of the reasons why Seulgi loves Irene; Irene could just enjoy her fortune and do nothing, yet, she decides to actively work for the company. She’s admirable.

"Do you want breakfast?" He asks over his shoulder.

"Well… I already had breakfast, but this is smelling really good." She admits. Jungkook nods and proceeds to prepare one more portion. She just watches in silence as he works around the kitchen (and she's also surprised that he knows where everything is, every pot, every spoon, literally everything). He hums quietly, that tiny satisfied smile never leaving his lips.

Seulgi thinks she has never seen him so happy.

It's kind of adorable.

"So, how was your job?" She asks.

"It was great!" Jungkook says excitedly. He chuckles. "I thought I was going to be the assistant of the assistant, but actually I was everyone's assistant. I didn't really do much, but it was great anyways. It's totally different to study about it and see how things work in real life."

Before Seulgi says anything, she sees you coming from your bedroom.

Your face is swollen and your eyes are barely opened; it seems you're not even seeing where you're going. Your hair is a complete mess. You wear one of Jungkook's shirts and Seulgi suspects you're not wearing anything under it.

She watches as you walk on a beeline straight to Jungkook and hug him from behind, burying your face on his back.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" At least that's what she thinks you said, because your voice sounds muffled.

"Because you looked so funny that I didn't want to wake you up." He says softly. Seulgi can hear his smile. "You were drooling and all. I even took some pictures."

"You didn't."

"I did." Jungkook giggles when you punch his back, but still keep your body glued on him.

"Fuck you. What are you cooking anyways? It smells too fucking good." You mumble.

"It's my special recipe." Jungkook moves to take something on the cabinet. You go along. "I can't cook if you keep smashing me like this."

"I don't caaare."

"Since when do you like hugging so much?"

"You didn't know girlfriend Y/N. Girlfriend Y/N likes long hugs."

Jungkook chuckles again. "Nice to meet you, Girlfriend Y/N."

Seulgi just stares, jaw dropped. From all the things she thought she’d see in her life, this is the most unexpected.

This is so cheesy. So not you. Not even when you were dating Mike you were like this.

And Jesus- she has never seen you look happy like this.

You turn your head to look at Seulgi, and she watches awkwardly as you let go of Jungkook and proceed to walk in her direction. You kind of look like a really happy zombie.

“Oh, good morning, Seul. Don’t be jealous. I love you toooo.”

And you throw your arms around her shoulders, hugging her so tightly that she almost falls from the stool.

The only person that doesn’t get shocked at your relationship is your mother.

You casually called her just to talk and gave the news. What she said?

“Well, finally.”

Everyone else is utterly shocked.

When Hoseok saw you kissing each other goodbye the other day - it was just a peck - his eyes got so wide that it seemed they were about to pop out of his face. He stared at you and him, completely shocked, as Jimin just laughed. That was pretty much everyone’s reaction.

You and Jungkook were never the type to be too touchy. It’s still kind of awkward to hand hold in public or call each other things like babe or love. You physically cringe just thinking of calling him “babe”, honestly.

It’s weird, because you’re “officially” dating now, but your relationship isn’t all that different. All the overwhelming awkwardness between you is gone (thankfully), so now you do what you always did; you swear at each other, you have your violent ways of showing affection, he still ghosts you because he’s too busy playing whatever game. The only difference is that now you can fuck without feeling guilty (and oh boy, you’ve been fucking a lot these days) and there’s a lot of kissing. There wasn’t that much kissing back then.

You thought it was impossible, but sex is even better now. It’s more exciting and even funnier - especially because there’s no awkwardness weighting in the room after you both reach your climaxes. Instead, there’s giggles and hugs and soft kisses. You also sleep at each other’s places now, which is good.

To be honest, if you think really hard about it, you’ve been lowkey dating for years. It’s just that now, you fuck a lot.

When you tell him this, Jungkook just chuckles. You don’t think he’s really listening to what you’re saying, though - nor you’re thinking straight anymore. You went out with your friends at a karaoke and, as expected, ended up drinking way too much; you and Seulgi had a singing competition in which none of you won (Irene just sat there looking absolutely embarrassed), Jimin sang a little bit but disappeared at some point (Jungkook said he noticed some hot guy in the side room), Hoseok got so emotional singing Haru Haru by BigBang that he started crying as Seokjin laughed so hard he almost choked, and Jungkook didn’t sing at all (because everybody knew he’s actually good at it and he would humiliate everyone else), until Jungkook silently asked if you wanted to leave (and you did) and you two left before anyone could notice (they were too drunk to notice anyway).

Since he’s drinking, you took a bus. The wrong bus. You’re at the other side of the city now, sitting on the bench of a park, watching the sun rise. It sounds romantic, but really, everything you see is heavy traffic and the grey pollution line in the horizon, almost blocking the sun.

Not that you care.

“We did everything backwards.” Jungkook says, his voice low and a little bit husky. His eyes look heavy because of the alcohol. You love how his hair is tied in a tiny ponytail. “People usually are friends first, then go out on dates, then they fuck.”

“We jumped straight to the fun part!” You say as if it’s obvious. He giggles again.

Peaceful silence. Jungkook watches your intertwined hands sitting on his lap, a small smile on his face. You can see that, even though he’s right by your side, his mind must be far, far away. He’s clearly sleepy. It’s silly - you know this guy almost your entire life, you already have memorized each detail about him - but you can’t take your eyes off of him right now.

You inhale.

“You know.” You start absently. “I saw the video.”

Jungkook frowns and looks at you. “What video?”

You’re trying really hard to hold back a smile.

“I think it’s called euphoria final test I swear to God.”

His eyes widen.

“W-What? Who showed you?!” He groans. “Jimin. Oh my God- I’m gonna fucking kill him!”

You start laughing as you see blush creeping on his cheeks and ears. He hides his face behind his hands and moans painfully.

“Why are you so embarrassed?” You ask, endeared, trying to get his hands off from his face, but he won’t let you.

“You weren’t supposed to watch that! It’s- it wasn’t- ugh!”

“But the song is beautiful, Kook!” You try, still laughing.

“Yeah, the song is alright, but the video?”

“What’s wrong with the video?”

He finally side eyes you for a few seconds. The blush on his cheeks gets redder. He hides his face again, groaning.

“You weren’t supposed to find out about that. Shit, I can’t look at you anymore. I wanna fucking die.”

“Stop being so dramatic!” After a lot of effort, you finally manage to cup his face with your hands. Still, he avoids your gaze. “Hey, hey. Look at me!”

He does.

He looks sheepish and it’s adorable.

“I loved it. Every second of it. You’re so damn talented.”

“B-But I didn’t write the song alone… Namjoon takes most of the credits with the lyrics. I just helped a little bit. A-And you know, it was just for fun, it’s not an official demo or anything-”

He’s forced to shut up when you peck his lips.

“I love you.”

He knits his eyebrows a little bit.

“You like to say this a lot.” He notices quietly. “I didn’t know you were this type of person.”

“I’m not.” You agree. “But it’s because it’s you.”

You’ve been “officially” dating for, what, almost two weeks now? People usually don’t say “I love you” this early. But this isn’t the beginning for you two. It’s more like a progression. It feels natural, like it has always been with him.

It feels like home.

Jungkook avoids your gaze again. The blush hasn’t gone away. “I don’t know what to do when you say things like that- why are you crying?!”

It’s Jungkook’s time to laugh at you as you try to wipe the tears away. He pulls you to rest your head on his chest, hugging you tightly.

“I am supposed to be the emotional one here, not you.” He says, still laughing.

“Shut up. I’m drunk.”

“Yeah, sure.” His laughter slowly dies until it’s just a quiet giggle. You feel his scent, hear the beating of his heart. Jungkook kisses the top of your head gently, caressing your back. “I’m gonna be so embarrassed when I remember I said this tomorrow,” he says softly against your hair. “But I think I’ve loved you ever since that first day of school when we bumped into each other on our way.”

You bury your face on his chest even more.

Everything around you is blurred and distant. It seems that nothing really matters besides right here, right now - as if you’ve never realized what you’ve been waiting for your whole life. This moment.

Him.

The puzzle is finally complete.

#btswriterscollective #bangtanarmynet #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook scenario #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #jungkook

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shadowsinger11 · 4 years

Text

Inspiration

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Requested by anon: Could you do a Fred Weasley imagine where he falls in love with Harry’s younger sister. (Maybe a after the war where he lives)

Word Count: 3.3k (my hand slipped oops)

Genre: Fluff, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining etc.

Warnings: Slight innuendo, Fred being cute and hot simultaneously

Tags: @self-ship-love @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii @jenniweasley @elf-punk @heart-of-tempered-steel @itseatyourdamnapples

Message me if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, England, July 16, 2000

It was a chilly Sunday evening. The summer air buzzed with excitement and the tender aroma of magnolia as tiny white and pink petals were gracefully falling from the huge cherry trees, carried by the light breeze. Twilight painted the horizon in liquid gold and fiery red, soon followed by mellow shades of dark blue that brought countless sparkling stars.

It was getting the slightest bit colder, but it did not matter; nothing else mattered but the loud cheers and cheerful music, celebrating the official bond between a Potter and a Weasley under the wide night sky.

You couldn't have been happier for your older brother, Harry, who was currently dancing with Ginny, his now wife - now and for the rest of his, hopefully, but not really likely, peaceful life. For the longest time you've been wondering how he'd always manage to get into trouble even as a small First year with no experience in the wizarding world whatsoever. Or, perhaps, that was the exact reason as to why evil-battling and rule-breaking were such common practices when hanging out with him.

However, there was no fighting that day. There was no room for worry and fear when the entire Weasley family and their loved ones were gathered on the clearing in front of the Burrow, chatting, laughing, dancing, singing, drinking, celebrating and living for what seemed to be the first time since Lord Voldemort's fall. Danger was practically nonexistent in that blissful moment which was frozen in time, once having looked agonizingly distant and impossible to hope for. But that dream was no longer just a foolish fantasy to heal wounded hearts. It was there, and it was happening in the most beautiful way imaginable.

And suddenly, all those clichés of a married life weren't even clichés. They were simply humble wishes of people who had witnessed far too many horrors in such a short period of time, and only craved stability among the massive chaos. So when you glanced at Ginny, a twirling blur of flaming red hair and a gorgeous wedding dress, you didn't feel the need to comment on how banal the color white was. You genuinely smiled, admiring the pure, exuberant joy, visible in her eyes and scarlet cheeks. Harry looked just as, if not even happier than his wife, dancing in the ridiculous but wholehearted way that only he could, and old memories of him winning the golden egg, training Dumbledore's Army and kissing Ginny in the common room for the very first time flooded into your mind.

It had truly been a long time since you had seen Harry careless and free like that.

You yourself had spent an ungodly amount of hours preparing the yard for the ceremony all day; rearranging chairs, decorating, making sure everything was going by schedule, only to then dance your tired feet off, and though you wanted to continue having fun with Hermione, Luna and the rest of the girls waiting for you, you really needed a break. And a drink.

Excusing yourself to leave the particularly interesting conversation you were having with distant Weasley relatives, you slipped off your black flats that, despite looking absolutely stunning, hurt your feet terribly after an entire day of fussing over the color of napkins and flower bouquets. Barefoot on the grass, you walked over to a chair next to a table which seemed to have been occupied, but judging by the mostly empty glasses and plates, the guests weren't coming back anytime soon.

You tossed your shoes aside with a sigh and rushed to rub your aching toes, hissing from how sore they were.

How has Ginny been dancing like that for hours?

"Enjoying the party, I see?" a familiar deep, slightly husky voice commented, causing you to look up.

It was none other than Fred Weasley, dear friend from childhood, staring down at you, his ever-present charming smirk resting on features and hands shoved into the pockets of his dragonskin suit. But it was his flaming red hair that made your eyes widen - it was carefully smoothed back, shining under the moonlight like liquid iron.

Fred's eyes still contained their famous, loveable mischief, except now slightly tamer and calmer. His firm biceps had visibly grown in size, stretching out the fabric of his coat just a bit to give you a prominent silhouette that caught you off guard.

It had been two years; he had changed so much.

And you were afraid to admit you had too.

You blinked in surprise, processing his uncharacteristically sophisticated appearance before realizing what he had asked you.

"Would've enjoyed it far more if my legs weren't killing me," you groaned half-heartedly and leaned back on your chair. "What's with your hair?"

"What's with your feet?"

"I asked you first," you cut him off. "I bet Ginny is responsible for this."

"Actually…" Fred trailed off, and, whether on purpose or not, ran a hand through the ginger locks to keep them in place, unaware of how you suddenly wished the hand doing the graceful motion wasn't his. "Mum insisted that I looked my best. What can I say, it's not like George and I usually listen to her, but we thought we'd make an exception this time; our sister doesn't get married every day. But honestly, Ginny couldn't care less about how we looked as long we showed up."

"So like usual, you mean?" you giggled. "Showing up is an achievement for you even if you're underdressed?"

Fred beamed, pearly white smile complementing his formal outfit. You wondered if he used that exact smile to effortlessly allure costumers and business partners at work.

He rested an elbow on the table as he leaned forward.

"Come on now, darling. I know you find my messy hair irresistible either way."

His cockiness only caused you to laugh, though Fred was quick to spot the flash of nervousness in your eyes; it brought him immense pride to know he was the one to turn you from confident to adorably bashful and flustered in the matter of seconds.

He was looking at you intensely, expectantly waiting for you to deny his flirty accusation despite your shyness.

"Nah, Weasley. It only reminds me that even at twenty-two you still do not know how to use a comb."

Fred's eyebrows shot straight up to his hairline, mouth agape. For the first time, he actually needed a second to form a reply.

"Didn't see that coming, I give you that. Courageous one, you are."

Your heart fluttered with joy and you openly grinned, shrugging in half-hearted humbleness.

"Perhaps I am."

Speaking to him felt unusually energizing, as though you had jumped headfirst into a chilly lake. It was unfamiliar and it set your nerves on fire, causing your stomach to twist and turn with sensations that left you dizzy, but unbelievably thrilled. And you wanted more of it, you wanted more of him.

"Fancy a drink?" Fred offered, already pouring champagne into a glass before handing it to you, and you keenly took it.

"Thanks, I've been thirsty with all the preparations I was doing."

"Is that why your legs are killing you?"

"Exactly, I've been running around all day, making sure everything was in order… you know, a lot of organizing and the like."

"It must hurt quite a bit then," Fred commented with a pained grimace. "But I absolutely get you, Georgie and I are just like that when it comes to the shop. It's a lot of accounting if I'm being honest, though I admit he's way better at it. We need to be completely precise; we can't allow any mistakes."

"Woah," you laughed. "Control freak much?"

He wettened his lips, never breaking eye contact.

"Perhaps I am."

You tilted your head to the side, gaze piercing into his in hopes of finding out what those gorgeous brown eyes were hiding. The tiny playful flames in them were eloquent.

Shifting slightly in your seat, you smoothed out your bridesmaid dress and raised your glass, the ghost of a smirk playing on your lips.

"Cheers to us control freaks then."

Fred mirrored your smug expression and your glasses met with a clink. The bubbly liquid tingled your throat, undoubtedly refreshing you and cooling you off. You glanced at the people dancing in the centre of the clearing and giggled - Ginny had apparently thrown away her white shoes long ago, bare feet stepping elegantly on the grass.

"You see, I'd like to chat a bit more with you, but I'm afraid it's a bit too loud here. What about we go to the pond across the field?" Fred suggested, pointing at the woods behind his back. You had visited them countless times when staying with Harry at the Burrow during holidays years ago; the tall trees and the glistening waters had never ceased to bring you comfort.

The noise started to become bothersome, and you felt it even more necessary to continue your conversation somewhere private, the unknown causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. Fred's presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, or the sensation of anticipating a tidal wave to crash into you in less than a second. It was wild and the tiniest bit terrifying, but oh so tempting as it pulled you in.

"I'd love that, but… you know," you grinned and playfully swang your sore feet. "Can't really walk."

But this didn't at all seem like a problem to Fred Weasley who only shrugged and stood up, "You don't have to. I'll carry you."

"Merlin, no! Please, it's not necessary."

Fred frowned, but his confused expression was soon replaced by an amused one.

"You said it yourself that your feet hurt like hell. And even if carrying you around isn't necessary, it doesn't mean I don't want to."

You attempted to tame the butterflies.

"No, no! You seriously don't have to, I promise," you frantically protested as you held up your hands in front of you to reassure him, but he only gave you a weird look. "I can walk on my own. I'll be too heavy for you."

"There's only one way to find out."

Fred walked over to you and leaned down, one hand sneaking around your waist and the other slipping under your knees. You shrieked in terror, arms flying to clutch at his shoulders, and heat rose to your cheeks from the abrupt contact. Your chests were pressed together, and you were afraid he'd be able to feel your racing heart. His skin was warmer than you had thought, and it successfully fought off the night summer chill.

"Are we going?" Fred whispered down at you, lips so close to yours that you recognized the nuance of champagne in his breath, mixing unbelievably well with the scent of cinnamon and sandalwood of his cologne.

Not only is he sinfully attractive, but he smells heavenly too?

"Yes," you breathed and let Fred effortlessly walk across the meadow with you in his arms. They brought this new, odd, yet familiar sense of security, and you allowed your head to rest against his chest, nervous gaze wandering off into the distance in hopes of not meeting his. Nevertheless, curiosity eventually took the best of you, and your eyes would occasionally flicker to his, which were now completely black under the night sky. They could swallow you whole, you swore.

Minutes later, you found yourselves in the company of old, enormous willows which surrounded the pond you so vividly remembered from your teenage years. You thanked Fred as he carefully let you down, and took a few steps forward to look around and drench in the misty moonlight that enveloped the area. The waters were crystal clear and completely still, reflecting the moon and its majestic silver glow. The bushes had grown significantly over the time you were away, and you fondly looked back at the moments when you would pick up colorful wildflowers in the summer before your fourth year.

"Shall we sit?" Fred asked quietly from right behind your shoulder, and you followed him with a nod. You found a comfortable spot on the fresh grass to sit, a few feet away from where the water met the soil and moved back and forth ever so slightly.

"It's more beautiful than I remember," you noted, lips curled up in a barely visible smile. Fred hummed in agreement.

"That's why I always make sure to come here every chance I get when I return. But, unfortunately, that's very rare in my case."

For a moment, there was only the chirping of crickets and the soft bubbling of water.

Fred turned to you.

"Remember when mum used to call for us to de-gnome the garden and we'd hide here? We could stay in the bushes for hours before we eventually came back," he recalled, seeming deep in thought. It was an extraordinary sight; for once the playful spark in his eyes was more mellow, there was no cockiness seeping into the way he was holding himself. He was just Fred, the man who was currently thinking with so much adoration and love about his childhood, the most significant memories of it being marked by you.

You wondered, given you ever had the chance to spend with Fred as much time as your older brother did, if the charismatic prankster would have fallen for you like you had done. You wondered, given the chance you had let Fred get to know you better all those summers ago, if his heart would have belonged to you by now just like yours did to him.

Had you possibly missed your chance?

"Oh, I do," you sighed, the tension in your chest vanishing as warm nostalgia crept in like an old friend. "I also remember when I got this really bad nightmare that night. I was so terrified that you took me on a ride with your broom in the middle of the night to cheer me up."

"That's true! My parents don't know about it to this day," he replied smugly. "I can still hear you screaming like a lunatic."

You jokingly smacked his arm, "I was twelve!"

Fred's grin grew wider.

"Excuses…"

This only caused you to stare at him in disbelief and cross your arms, managing your most serious expression, but Fred was aware you were on the verge of failing to keep your stern facade. He squinted his eyes as a teasing attempt to provoke you, smile threatening to split his face in two.

"Alright then, that's enough about me," you announced, and Fred nodded in mock agreement as he studied your playful pretence. "If you're so much better than me, Mr Darcy, what else do you do aside from stealing ladies away?"

"Stealing their hearts," he said confidently, flashing you a seductive smirk, reserved only for special girls back in your Hogwarts days. You giggled, finding his antic utterly ridiculous, but you hated to admit that it still turned your blood into liquid fire. Fred apparently saw right through you, because when your eyes landed on his, they appeared completely dark once again, but, you suspected, for a reason other than the lack of light.

Your throat went dry, and you found it hard to swallow down the lump that cut your breath short.

He ran a hand through his ginger hair as he began to explain, "I'm kidding, you know. But to answer your question, George and I have been working on this potion that should be able to change the color of the eyes and hair. Fun for those who enjoy experimenting with their appearance, but it can also be useful to the Ministry. They're actually going to send a team of a couple of aurors to visit us next month so we can update them on our progress and negotiate the details."

"Wow! That's certainly exciting!"

"Is it? I mean, it probably is, but I've been having second thoughts lately if I'm being honest." He scratched the back of his neck, and you realised you had only witnessed him being anxious when it came to his greatest passion. "I'm afraid we might not be done on time, there's still plenty left to improve."

You put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, and said, "I'm sure you'll figure it all out eventually. Keep working as you normally do, try not to stress too much over the deadline, and even if things go wrong at some point, don't go too hard on yourself. It wouldn't take away any progress you've made so far."

Fred's body relaxed just a bit and he looked down at you. He couldn't deny the sense of serenity that he felt only when he was with you. Even as a careless young boy, he was able to pinpoint the way his midriff would clench every time you'd laugh at his jokes or ask him to play with you, without knowing what it all meant.

But now, as a grown man, he had a word to describe the bittersweet fire within.

"You know what?" He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "I could really benefit from having someone like you around to give me motivation."

"Motivation, huh?" you raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smile. Fred sneaked a hand around your waist and pulled you closer.

"Yes, motivation."

"Motivation for what?"

"Marketing strategies, work projects…" he shrugged nonchalantly, "...among other things."

You quickly caught on, suddenly becoming way too self-aware of the way you were practically cuddled into Fred's side, hand resting on his shoulder while his were wrapped around your waist. But his shining confidence seemed to rub off on you, because you asked.

"What's with you offering me a job all of a sudden?"

His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth as he took his sweet time devouring you with his darkened gaze. You didn't know whether you wanted to hide from it, or expose yourself even further to the way it burned its way straight to your core.

"Well…" Fred dragged out in his low, hoarse voice, and caressed your cheek with his thumb before slipping it under your chin to guide it towards his face. You could nearly taste the remaining flavour of champagne on his lips. "I've certainly been feeling…"

Fred went quiet as he got lost in the way you fit so perfectly in his arms; you had always meant to be there, he realised. His mouth crashed into yours, hands tightly gripping your waist, and you let out a gasp. Fred's lips were soft, although slightly chapped, and they moved gently but firmly against yours, turning you into their slave. Your palms naturally slid up his chest and he closed any remaining distance between your bodies by placing you to straddle his lap. The kiss was a dance of pushing forward and pulling back, two lovers having finally found their rhythm after years of living in fearful desire. You were positively drunk on his taste, on him, and you wished to never become sober.

When your need for air overcame the one for physical contact, you pulled away. Your chests were heaving with rapid, shallow breaths, hearts beating in synch like they had always done. You let a finger tenderly trace his cheekbone down to his jawline, then it came back up to draw different affectionate patterns on his face.

"What were you saying?" you asked, clearly out of breath. "How were you feeling?"

He fondly took your hand that was caressing his skin, and lifted it up to press feather-light kisses on your knuckles. His lips retraced their path until they reached the tips of your fingers, and he kissed those with the gentlest of touch.

You heart ached pleasurably from the way he was handling you with such care, much more than you ever believed he was capable of.

After minutes of worshipping you by the moonlit lake, Fred looked back at you as though you were his entire world. And replied with a smile.

"Inspired."

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader fluff #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley oneshot #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins #fred and george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #james phelps #oliver phelps

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bokunosimpfiction · 3 years

Text

Yandere!Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Synopsis: Heisenberg kidnaps the reader. And she’s pissed about it. And so is he. Turns out there’s a lot more to it than it seems, tw: kidnapping I’m not tagging for violence because it’s less graphic than even the mild stuff in canon. Like reader gets a concussion and a dislocated arm, that’s it.

A/N: first time ever writing for Resident Evil. I haven’t even played the games, only watched a play-through and immediately fell in love with this hobo. Honestly, there’s a lot of room to make a sequel or some more from this but I have commitment issues and it probably won’t happen.

Oh and one last thing! Do you think I should add resident evil: village to my fandoms I write for or no. Let me know please!

It’s dark in your small cottage, claustrophobic with the way you stumble to the front door as fast as you can. You try to take deep breaths, but you can’t, not with someone chasing you. You cut through the kitchen, and when he reaches out to grab you, you slam the door to a cabinet as hard as you can. You can hear his pained yell.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, (y/n),” he says.

“I’ll make it as hard as I damn please!” You put your hand on the handle to the front door, twist and right before you manage to open it, a body slams into yours and you hear your arm pop. Loudly. And it burns at the elbow like someone poured gasoline on it and set it on fire.

You can hear his heavy breathing and feel the warm air on the crown of your head. “You put up a good fight, I’ll give you that much.” He presses his body further into yours, and you feel everything. The toned muscle under a layer of fat, the harsh fabric of his shirt and jacket, and the bulge that presses into the small of your back.

“You’re so small,” he coos, like he’s talking to a dog, “I can’t wait to break you.”

You manage to wiggle one arm free and jab him in the side as hard as you can with your elbow. You hear him say oof under his breath, and you take this as the opportunity to press your foot into the door and push back into him as hard as you can, to at least get him to stumble back.

It doesn’t work, he just leans his whole-body weight on you and uses one hand to smash your head into the door. He could have done it harder, you reckon, but it still hurts like a mother fucker. “Shut the fuck up before I do something I regret.”

“Like you don’t already regret breaking into my house and trying to kidnap me? Like you don’t regret slamming me into my door and dislocating my elbow? What are you going to do to me that you’ll regret? Huh?”

He looks down at you through those yellow glasses of his, light from the glass peephole reflecting off of them but his hat shading the rest of his face. “I said shut the fuck up!” He presses your head even further into the door, and your temple digs into the frame. It hurts, and your eyes water from the pain.

“Who even are you?!” You end up shouting. His grip loosens a little bit, just enough for you to move your head off the door frame and onto the actual door. “I’ve never met you in my goddamn life and you break into my house, say you love me, and try to kidnap me!”

Something in him breaks, you can tell, the outline of his features look crestfallen. “You don’t know who I am?”

“No… I don’t. And here you are in my house, chasing me around like I’m some goddamn animal you’re hunting.” Your eyes water. “I know you don’t mean a damn word you said this entire time.”

“Shut your goddamn trap woman!” His grip on your hair tightens. “I love you and we both know it; I know everything about you.”

“So, you’re a stalker? Huh, didn’t think I was pretty enough to have one.”

“I knew you had a mouth on you, and it was attractive till it was pointed in my direction.” His voice is low and gravelly at this point, like a thin string that’s pulled taut and about to snap.

“Well get used to it you fu-” You don’t get to finish your sentence, because a piece of metal from his hammer slams you hard in the face, knocking you out cold.

When you wake up, it’s hard to open your eyes. It’s too bright and the room is spinning when you move your head up. That must be one hell of a bump on your forehead. You go to feel it, only to find you hands chained up to a metal pipe on the wall. Your feet are too, but that chain is a lot slacker.

You’re lying down on the floor, a cheap scratchy blanket separating you from rough, worn down cement. It’s still hard and cold, but it didn’t scratch up your skin, so that’s something to be grateful for. You look around the room, only to find an old tv, that’s on, and playing static. That’s what was so bright, you realize.

Suddenly the noise from the t.v. stops, and you hear a voice. It’s still sounds like static, but it’s audible enough to understand the words and recognize the voice. It’s the same guy who kidnapped you. You don’t really process what he’s saying, it’s just noise to you, and you close your eyes and curl up as best as you can. Maybe you’ll wake up, and everything will be okay.

“Quit ignoring me girlie.”

You snap out of your daydreaming. The days of that warm bed and leaky bathroom faucet are over, and this cruel situation is your reality for the time being.

“Okay. Okay. But just quiet down my head hurts.”

“I’d be sorry, but you brought that upon yourself,” he says.

You can’t help but be snarky, you’re tired and already sick of this shit. “I’m sorry you don’t have the self-control to not kidnap people and knock them unconscious via flying pieces of metal.”

“Touché.” You hear back.

“Can you at least get me some Tylenol for my head or something.”

“Why should I? After all the attitude you’ve given me, I should just leave you in there to starve.” Looks like he knows how to be snarky too.

“Because you were the one who hit me in the head and locked me in here?”

“Apologize and I’ll consider it.”

You go back to your curled up position. “I guess I’ll just starve down here then.”

The t.v. cuts off again, or you just tune him out, just run your hands along the chains to try and find a lock. You find the one attached to your left ankle and begin to plot your escape. Maybe you could pick the lock with a bobby pin? You run your hands through your hair, not only to find that it was down, but all of them were removed.

You run your hands down your pajama pants. Maybe you have something in your pockets? They also turn up empty.

“Are you looking for something to pick the lock with?” You hear from the t.v. You turn back to look at it, only to see his face. He’s not wearing his glasses, and he’s taken off his worn-out bucket hat, so you can see his untamed salt and pepper hair. “I took the liberty of searching your person while you were knocked out. I highly doubt you’ll find something to pick the lock with.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that.” You find yourself saying. To be fair, you probably shouldn’t, considering that he: is holding you hostage, threatening to leave you to starve, and is clearly a psychopath, despite his claims that he loves you.

“Calm down, you know it makes me upset to see you mad.”

You can’t help but raise your voice at him. “Quit fucking taunting me! You won this stupid ass game. You kidnapped me! You can come down here and kill me now!”

“You think I wanna kill you?” He asks, you can tell he’s just as furious as you are. He chuckles lightly. “You know I love you. I did this for your own good! There are people out there. People who want to taint you and your innocence! People who want to hurt you!”

“I can handle myself just fine! I had before your psycho ass came along and kidnapped me!” Your furious, desperately searching for a weak point on the pipe with your hands while you yell at the t.v.

“And what would have happened if I didn’t?” He asks you, “lady supersized bitch in the castle would have gotten to you first… I can’t have that.”

“I’m sorry who?” You ask. Suddenly things have gotten more confusing.

“I’m not the only one who’s after you,” he clarifies. “You think I’m the one who’s a psychopath, there’s a woman out there who wants to drink your blood and eat your flesh! And monster that wants to drown you and swallow you whole-”

“Slow down! I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!”

“Don’t interrupt me! I want what’s best for you!” You can hear him take a deep breath. “I’m going to bring you upstairs and explain everything. And you’re going to behave, am I clear?”

You just nod your head.

“Good. Now stop trying to find a weak point on that pipe to get loose before I get down there. It has carbon monoxide in there, you’ll poison yourself before you get to that door.”

You immediately stop twisting the connector and drop your hands to your sides.

“Good girl…” His praise makes you want to vomit. “Now stay still while I come get you.”

When he comes down and opens that iron door and unceremoniously tosses you over his shoulder, you can’t help but comment on it. “Am I a bag of potatoes to you?”

“Don’t complain, I could be like that Dimitrescu bitch and turn you into wine.”

You shut up immediately and grasp the back of his coat for balance. You don’t know why, but his empty threats scare you immensely. You watch the hallways blur into one another, trying to see if you can find a window, or an escape rout of some sort, hell, even a vent he couldn’t fit in but you could would work well.

He smacks your thigh. Not hard, but enough for a slight sting and to get your attention. “We’re in the center of the factory, there’s no need for you to be tracking an escape route, especially because you won’t be leaving any time soon.”

Eventually, you end up in a small office like space, with a desk, a cork board with several pictures of people on it, and a large grate that leads to a tunnel downwards. He pulls the metal chair out of the corner with his powers and places you in the chair. “Stay.”

“So…” He turns towards the cork board. “Since your out of town, I’ll explain the run-down-“

“I don’t really care for the details.” You stand up from the chair and go to walk towards him, but he crosses the room in a second and slams you back down.

“I told you to stay in that goddamn chair!” He opens his mouth to explain but a whirring noise starts out of nowhere. It’s loud, obnoxious, and coming from the vent. He opens it. “Shut your goddamn trap!”

“Anyhow, (Y/N),” he starts, “the other three lords decided that they’re interested in you, for whatever their reasons are. I’m assuming they want to kill you.”

“That’s a veeeeeery extreme assumption.” You roll your eyes, and prop your head on your hands.

“Well two of them are well know for turning people into dolls and drinking their blood,” he says casually, “it’s only a fair assumption they want to do the same with you.”

“I’m sorry they what?”

He turns to you, surprised for a moment that you don’t know what he’s talking about. “Super-sized bitch over here,” a sharp piece of metal lands on the photo of a pale, middle aged woman with bold red lipstick and a black hat, “is one of the other three lords, known for drinking the blood of girls like yourself. Wouldn’t suggest meeting her, she’s not that pleasant.”

“Known for?”

“Sort of, most of the towns people don’t know,” he turns to you and leans on the table by the cork board, “they’re too busy worshipping Mother Miranda.”

“I’ve heard her name before,” you say, “doesn’t she protect the town?”

You can sense the anger you caused before you can take it back.

“That Miranda bitch doesn’t protect anybody from shit. She’s the one causing all the issues, kidnapping people and mutating them, killing them and throwing their lives away like table scraps.” You slams his hand on the table and you visibly flinch. He quickly apologizes.

“You keep mentioning ‘the other three lords’ how many are there, and who’s the one your excluding in that statement?” You question as soon as you get the chance. He’s talking, loudly, quickly and it’s filling up the space in the room with an anxious sort of white noise.

“Pardon me,” he says, and waltzes over, almost over-dramatically. He brings your hand to his lips and places a light kiss. You can feel his stubble and chapped lips on the top of your hand. He desperately needs to use chap-stick. “I’m Heisenberg, one of the four lords, but you can call me Karl.”

“Okay… Karl.” You test the name out on your tongue. “What are you going to do with me, now that I’m here?”

He gets down on one knee in front of you, still holding your hand. “Oh (Y/N), I’m going to treat you how you deserve, like a princess.”

#resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #yandere karl heisenberg #yandere heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #yandere karl heisenberg x reader #tw: kidnapping

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imarizaki · 3 years

Text

— relentless as a waterfall;

synopsis: you’re in way over your head. you’ve overestimated your abilities to keep your feelings for none other than your childhood friend, sakusa kiyoomi. things were fine, until the river of love you hold for him starts to burst through, flowing free and strong as a waterfall. you soon realize that everything was a mistake, especially when your heart is in the receiving end of never ending ache.

or, you make a big oopsie and now you have to try to get things under control before you go insane (or he finds out, whichever one happens first).

word count: 8.1k !!

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader

genres + warnings: childhood friends to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, fluff, angst, suggestive themes, swearing, mutual pining, slow burn

a/n: PLS THIS IS THE LONGEST THING I’VE WRITTEN JSKDJSK this is so self indulgent aaa i’ll rb the taglist later shsjhd

What classifies as a mistake?

Honestly, it depends on what you’ve done recently, or whatever pops into your head first. Mistakes could be trivial, like going somewhere you shouldn’t have, or they could be quite impactful, for example, cheating on an exam you should’ve studied for and getting caught.

There are many things a person can classify as a mistake.

For example, buying a pet when you can barely take care of yourself, agreeing to go somewhere with friends only for it to turn sour, or doing something when you think is right until you realize that it’s just the beginning of your downfall.

Mistakes are an extensive gray area. Some people consider such trivial things as mistakes, while others don’t. Now, everyone could agree on one thing, and that’s what everyone knows as ‘fuck ups’.

You’d like to think your life had just had small, insignificant mistakes.

You’d never actually done many things that would classify as a fuck up. But you should have expected all those 21 years of your life where only small mistakes happened to build up to what should — and actually is — your biggest fuck up.

So, everything was alright the way it was. Your life was sailing smoothly, completely free from fuck ups.

Until it wasn’t.

And that’s something you’re reminded of every time you’re laying in Sakusa’s bed, because never in your life had you imagined you’d be doing this with him — him who used to be the same kid you’d met in second grade, the same kid who used to stick by your side when his cousin wasn’t around.

If you’d known that very same kid would turn out to be the reason your heart fluttered and ached, you probably wouldn’t have befriended him. In fact, you’re almost certain that you would have avoided him at all costs.

Or so you hope that’s what you would’ve done.

But when you feel him try to gently pull you against him, you know that even if you’d been warned about the way this man would make you feel, you’d still go ahead and do this. Because your love for him made you selfishly want more than you could have.

Which is why you gingerly lift his arm, trying not to disturb him, and stand up. But you should have known better, Sakusa always was quite the light sleeper.

“You’re not going to stay?” Sakusa softly says. You freeze, but you don’t turn to face him, instead, you walk over to the pile where your clothes were.

“I can’t, Omi,” you mutter.

“Just this once?” he groans, slightly shifting to sit on the bed. He runs a hand through his tousled curls as he stares at your back. You pick up your shirt from the floor.

“I,” you pause, “I really shouldn’t.” You turn to look at him, and you shakily exhale.

“Please? It’s just the two of us,” he pleads. You know you shouldn’t give in. You know that he won’t ever know the impact of what staying the night means to you.

You turn away and slip your shirt on. You hear the bedsheets softly rustle and you soon feel Sakusa’s arms wrap around your waist. Your breath hitches the moment you feel his breath against your neck, and you curse yourself for the immense longing that takes over once he softly presses his lips against the crook of your neck.

“Omi,” you whisper. You turn your head slightly to the side and you’re met with his lips being mere centimeters away from yours.

“Stay with me,” his voice barely above a whisper, “just for tonight.”

“You always say that,” you softly laugh. You notice how his eyes are now filled with mirth and how his smile makes the corners of his eyes slightly crinkle.

He hums, “I do, don’t I?” He rests his chin on your shoulder.

“It’s worth it, though,” he notes, “I get to keep you in my arms for longer.” He lifts his head and you turn your body around to face him.

If he knew what such simple teasing did to your heart, you’re sure he would stop. Because that’s how he is, it’s how he’s always been. He’s a tease until he realizes it flusters you too much.

You narrow your eyes and playfully smirk at him.

“Don’t get cute with me, Omi,” you chide, “it doesn’t suit you.”

He heartily laughs — you swear his laugh always releases a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, not only because it’s so uncommon to hear him laugh like this, but also because he only does so with you.

He playfully pouts, “I mean it, though.” He gingerly rubs circles against your hips.

“Stay, Y/N.” A request. Most movies have taught you that this is usually a command, but when it comes from Sakusa, you know he’s giving you the option to choose. That’s how he’s always been. And maybe that’s why you keep falling for him even more.

“Just this once?” you whisper.

A smile blooms on his lips, “Just this once.”

He pecks your lips, “But if you want me to stop, just say so, alright, love?”

You hum, “Alright.”

He softly presses his lips against yours, his hands slowly roaming up your body to remove your shirt once more. He nibbles on your bottom lip, and that’s all it takes for your lingering resolve to melt away. You know you should tell him to stop, your mind screams at you to do so, but in the battle between your heart and mind, your heart comes out on top — it has always put Sakusa first.

So you don’t tell him to stop. You never do. Not when he picks you up with ease and carries you back to his bed. Not when he hooks your legs around his waist as he leaves a trail of kisses from your stomach to your neck. And certainly not when he rocks his hips forward in a way that leaves you arching your back to press your chest against his, your nails digging into his back, and you know that it must hurt, but he never says anything about it, opting to leave kisses against your neck and lips as he softly mutters words of reassurance instead.

You know that things would be better if he let you leave after fucking. Maybe that way you could spare yourself the heartache that came with waking up to an empty bed, knowing Sakusa had left for practice. But you’d never complain about it, anyway.

Because staying the night, just to indulge yourself — to let that small ember of hope grow stronger, that maybe, just maybe, he feels the same as you — that’s your mistake, not his.

Everyone knows the most important rule of friends with benefits.

Don’t catch feelings.

It’s as simple as that, because it’s meant to be a purely physical relationship. It’s meant to be a way for two people who are either too busy, or just don’t want to date anyone, to get their needs satiated. It’s no strings attached.

Adding on to that fact, no one is oblivious to this universal rule.

So why you agreed to do this when you knew damn well that you’d already broken it is beyond you.

Actually, no, it wasn’t beyond you.

You know why you agreed, and it’s due to the unmeasurable love you hold towards that damned curly haired man. You know that you shouldn’t have agreed to it, not in a million years, and that this is by far the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. There was too much to lose when it came to this, if your feelings for Sakusa became too obvious, then not only would this arrangement be over, but all those years of knowing each other would go to waste.

Long story short, you’re playing with fire and you know you’re bound to get burnt eventually.

Yet, whenever you try to stop yourself from giving in to your desire for Sakusa, you always end up going back to him as soon as you feel his gentle touch. And you know that the love you hold for him is too much to simply try and stop it. It would be like trying to stop a waterfall.

Sometimes you wish you knew exactly when you fell in love with him. Love doesn’t grow in trees, after all. So there’s absolutely no way that these feelings for a certain curly haired rascal just poofed out of thin air. You suppose that maybe it has to do with the fact that you’d known him for most of your life. That was the most reasonable answer, wasn’t it? But as reasonable as it was, it was also one of the most cliché things ever. Falling in love with the one person who has seen every side to you there is, someone who has been through all your ups and downs, that one specific person who always shows you a different side to themselves — because, yeah, Sakusa seemed to be more carefree around you, something not even Komori managed to achieve, even if he was his cousin.

It’s quite weird, isn’t it? That the one person you love most turned it to be the same person you used to analyze as a child.

You vividly remember how you used to stare at him from across the class when you were little, just trying to build up the courage to approach him in a way that wouldn’t make him uncomfortable around you. You were so young, yet you wanted to get to know this boy more than anything you’d ever wanted before. You’d run up to your mother one day and asked her if she ever felt like she had to know more about someone. She chuckled and kissed the top of your head, gently saying that she did, but that you shouldn’t worry about things like those at the time. You only frowned at the time, but what your mother said only caused your curiosity to grow.

You feel weird, staring at some random kid who barely even glanced your way as if you were hunting down your prey. Still, you would do whatever it took to get him to talk to you, even if it meant having to stop being the kid with the most shiny star stickers. You prop your head in your hand as you swing your legs. You watch as he sits up straighter on his desk, his curls slightly bouncing with his movements. Your lips quirk up into a smile. You can’t help but wonder how it would feel to touch his curls at least once. They must be soft, you conclude. You raise your tiny arm towards the direction of his hair, you try to imagine smoothing his hair down. Your smile grows wider.

“Y/N.”

You jolt. Your head snaps towards the blackboard, where you’re met with your teacher frowning at you.

“Would you mind sharing with the class what you’re doing?” she asks.

You look around quickly before rapidly shaking your head. You look down into your lap, your tiny fists bundling up the fabric of your skirt. Your face heats up in embarrassment at being caught by your teacher — and him, for that matter. You shyly lift your head up and glance in the kid’s direction. You avert your eyes once you see him staring at you, confusion evident in his features. Your mouth forms into a line and your legs start swinging even faster, simply waiting until you could be released for — what you like to call — playtime. And you are, sort of, after your teacher tells you that you’ll be spending your break time sitting next to her, rather than playing on the swings with the rest of your class.

You sigh as you stare at your classmates laughing. You glumly take a bite of the sandwich your dad packed for you. You’re so caught up in your own pity party you don’t even realize that someone sat next to you until you hear the bench creak due to more weight being added. You look up and your eyes immediately widen, your tiny form slowly shaking from the way you’re trying to properly digest your food. Shock is evident in your features as you stare at the kid sitting next to you. A smile creeps into your face.

You clear your throat, shaking off any nerves that surged.

“Hi,” you squeak.

The kid turns his head and looks at you. He looks around before coming to the conclusion that you were, in fact, speaking to him. He hesitantly waves at you. You beam.

“I’m L/N Y/N!” you giggle, child-like wonder evident in your tone. If you’d known not paying attention in class would land you into the perfect opportunity to talk to this kid, you would’ve done it sooner.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” he mumbles. He glances behind you and he sees your teacher stand up, frustration and worry making her brows furrow. He gulps and returns his gaze to meet your eyes. You shift slightly closer to him — just enough to close a bit of distance, but not enough to make him uncomfortable.

“I like your hair,” the words come tumbling out of your mouth. Sakusa’s eyes widen, he quickly mutters a ‘thank you’ before looking away, a soft pink hue settling in the apples of his cheeks, causing laughter to blurt out of your lips. You scoot closer to him, trying to meet his gaze, only for him to keep avoiding your gaze. Your cheeks hurt from smiling, but you don’t care. You finally started your journey on getting to know Sakusa Kiyoomi, and nothing was going to stop you from becoming his friend.

“I like your lunch box,” you blurt out, your lips finally returning to a small smile instead of the grin you had before. You close your eyes and you give him the most genuine smile you can muster.

“Thanks,” he speaks a little louder this time, but it’s still just barely enough for both of you to hear, “I, um, your lunch box is pretty.” He silently points at your lunch box and you proudly puff your chest out.

“Thanks!” your voice is laced with pride, “I pasted those Sailor Moon stickers there, myself!”

He silently nods, as if he understood the amount of pride you held for your self-decorated lunch box. Silence settles between the two of you once your teacher returns and you soon stare at your feet. You silently cheered for yourself, a feeling of excitement blooming in your heart at the fact that you finally got to talk to the boy who captured your attention.

You turn your head to look at him, and smile when you see him look away flustered at the fact that you’d caught him staring. You turn your gaze up to the sky, your eyes squinting as your heart squeezes with unfamiliar emotions.

You couldn’t wait to tell your parents all about your new friend.

You’re sure that anyone can tell there’s something going on between you and Sakusa. You’ve noticed the way his teammates look at you while they think you’re distracted. In fact, the only person who you’re sure hasn’t noticed anything is Komori, and that’s because he’s had to witness the blatant favorability his cousin has for you throughout the past 13 years.

If you have to be honest, you’re getting tired from all the walking on eggshells that Sakusa’s teammates do around you — except for Atsumu, Bokuto, and Hinata. Those three practically threw themselves at your feet when they saw Sakusa smile at you for the first time, it’s like they unfiltered themselves around you ever since they first met you (it’s weird, in some sort of way, to have three grown men use you as their shield when Sakusa’s mad at them). It was quite obvious they’d immediately taken a liking to you, and — truth be told — you like them just as much. However, if there is one person who seems irked by this small fact, it has to be Sakusa.

What makes it obvious? Well, the fact that he practically has to restrain himself from spiking a ball towards Atsumu’s unsuspecting head whenever he gets ‘too close’, or those times in which you can see him glaring holes into Bokuto’s back out of the corner of your eye, and let’s not forget the one time he straight up bribed Hinata to leave you alone (spoiler: he didn’t). Still, whenever you tried to confront him about it he always brushed it off by saying he wanted to keep you away from those annoying pests.

“So,” you hear someone clear their throat behind you. You turn around and see Atsumu.

“So...?” you raise a brow. You see Atsumu smirk and a cocky look quickly flashes through his face, from the corner of your eye you can see Sakusa practicing his serves along with Bokuto and Hinata.

“What’s with the, uh,” he points at a certain spot in his neck, “what’s with the bruise?” Your face pales, you realize that you may have missed a spot when covering the hickeys Sakusa left the previous night.

You can only blame yourself, really (a tiny part of you blames your fuck buddy for keeping you up longer than intended, what with the whole sweet facade he put up just to get you agree to another round — which soon turned into another one no thanks to his persistence and your inability to say no to him).

You place your hand over the spot, and quickly look away. There’s a pregnant pause in which only the sound of the ball slamming against the floor can be heard. You purse your lips, squinting your eyes as you try to come up with something to say. You weigh your words.

“Beauty hack gone wrong,” you slowly say, shifting your eyes to stare at the setter. You awkwardly smile, which leads Atsumu into looking at you skeptically. He slowly nods, his brows furrowing.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffs.

He leans in closer.

“You and I aren’t falling for that bullshit, doll.”

You frown.

“It’s not bullshit,” you hiss, “and even if it was — which it isn’t — why do you want to know?”

A cocky smile graces his lips. Neither of you notice that the slamming sound has decreased a bit.

“Because I saw something quite odd a while ago,” his voice is laced with amusement, “see, I think I saw Omi Omi’s back with some peculiar marks when we were changing.”

His eyes darken, “I was wondering if you knew anything about that.”

Your eyes widen for a split second before they narrow.

“‘Tsumu, you piece of-” you and Atsumu jump a foot into the air once you hear a resounding slam echo throughout the gym. You look around and notice Sakusa’s seething form, his arm being a dead giveaway to the fact that he was the one who spiked the ball mere centimeters away from Atsumu’s head.

You notice the way he clenches his fists as he makes his way over to where both of you stood, his eyes filled with rage and an undertone of something you can’t quite tell.

“Word to the wise, Miya,” he glares at the blonde setter, “mind your own fucking business.” He pats Atsumu’s shoulder and makes his way past him to retrieve the ball. You stifle a laugh at the setter’s frozen state, knowing fully well that whatever happens during that state won’t register in his brain. Your body is slowly trembling from the laughter bubbling up inside you. You’re about to reach your breaking point when you feel a familiar warmth behind you. A soft gasp escapes your lips, your eyes widening and a soft blush makes its home in your cheeks.

“I’ll see you later, right?” Sakusa whispers, you feel his breath ghost the shell of your ear, and you realize how close he must actually be. Your heart’s beating erratically at the proximity between your body and his, and your mind is suddenly blaring alarms in your head, all of them insisting you say no. Your mind is persistent in making you stop this never ending cycle of going back into his arms when you know you shouldn’t raise your hopes up too high.

But when you feel Sakusa softly squeeze your waist as he presses a kiss where your jaw and ear connect, you can’t help but wordlessly nod as a shaky breath makes its way past your lips.

And you’re thrown into that cycle once more, and you can only blame yourself for giving in. Because you’ve never once been able to say no to him, not as a child, and certainly not now that you’re an adult.

You’ve come to the conclusion that you need to stop ignoring your mind.

You’ve also come to the conclusion that mind over matter seems to be something that just naturally flows in Kiyoomi’s veins, and that’s something you realize as you’re lying beneath him, trapped between his arms, both of you panting and flushed.

How this man could just simply power through all the exhaustion from practice just to exhaust you is completely beyond you (not like you’d complain about it, anyway). It isn’t until you feel him try to move his hips against yours that you actually stop him.

“No,” you huff, “we’re not doing this again.”

He pouts. Nevertheless, he halts his movements. He shifts his position so that he’s laying his head against your chest. You hope he mistakes your erratic heartbeat as a result of your previous activities rather than the actual reason (read: the fact that he decided to lay on you instead of next to you). You gently card your fingers through his hair and he immediately melts into your touch, a content hum escaping his lips. You gently curl a few strands of his hair around your finger.

“Hey, Omi?” you whisper. He lifts his head to look at you. A questioning hum sounds from his direction.

“Do you remember that time we went out on a field trip to the museum for school?”

“Yes,” he replies, “what about it?”

You purse your lips and you look at him. You were grasping at straws by now to try and figure out exactly when you fell in love with him. So truly, anything helped out at this point. Even if it seemed completely nonsensical.

“Well,” you smile, “do you remember how Komori was the reason we never went out again?”

He snorts, “I‘m pretty sure that was you, love.” You stick your tongue out, causing him to chuckle before he leans in to peck your lips.

He softly traces patterns against your skin, an amused hum leaving his lips when he feels you shiver under his touch.

“Is there a specific reason as to why you’re asking that, Y/N?” Sakusa asks, his voice barely above a whisper yet still full of curiosity. He props himself up to look at you comfortably. He studies your face, and he wonders if you can feel his thundering heart. He’s always wondered that, really. He wishes he could find the answers he was looking for by simply looking at you.

You look away, your cheeks burning up. You didn’t know what to say to that. After all, how were you supposed to tell the one person you didn’t want to know you loved him that you wanted to know when you fell in love with him?

You lick your lips, “Just trying to remember why we got our class banned from visiting again.” You laugh when you see a playful shimmer in his eyes, his lips quirked into an amused smirk.

“We?” his voice is laced with mock disbelief, “I’m sure you did that all by yourself, Y/N.”

You snort, “Yeah, right.”

“It’s the truth!” he laughs, “no one ever asked you to try to steal a painting.”

You squint your eyes at him, “Are you sure that you didn’t have anything to do with that?”

He closes his eyes and nods. A smile blooms on his face.

“All I ever said was that it’d be cool to see it if it had anything in the back,” his voice is laced with joy, “I never actually told you to grab it.”

You frown, “You didn’t?”

He shakes his head.

You could’ve sworn he did.

“Seriously?” confusion laces your voice. Sakusa nods, his brows slowly creasing his forehead and his lips part in confusion.

“Huh,” you sigh. Your frown deepens and you zone out.

Just how stupid were you as a child? What could have possibly possessed you to do something so reckless?

All this time you’d been certain that Sakusa had told you to do that, but to hear him say that he didn’t, well, it confused you. And you’re sure Komori wouldn’t have told you to do so, especially not with his personality (even though he would’ve done so if he was told to).

You gaze into Sakusa’s eyes and see yourself reflected in them (but you don’t see the love that’s swimming in them as he looks at you). As you gaze into his eyes, your mind slowly starts connecting the dots, and suddenly, everything clicks.

You’d always loved him.

From the very first time you spoke to him as a small, reckless child. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for him. And that explains the reason as to why you were more than willing to take the risk of stealing a painting, because if it meant seeing him happy, then you’d do it. Which also explains why you’re doing this, even if it feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest every time you wake up alone in his bed.

“Is something wrong, baby?” Sakusa’s voice snaps you out of our reverie.

Your heart is pounding at the sudden realization that this man — this rascal that’s laying on your chest — meant everything to you. So, yes, there was something wrong. You shouldn’t be here. Not now, and certainly not with him. But no matter what you do, or how hard you wish you could say that to him, you can’t. Because the words would always stay in the tip of your tongue — just mere seconds away from leaving your mouth — only for them to be washed away as he swirls his tongue with yours in a feverish kiss that leaves you chasing after his lips once more.

“No,” you exhale, “everything’s fine, Omi.”

You can never bring yourself to tell him the truth. Not when you know that everything could crumble right in front of your eyes. So, you always settle for holding him as close as you can, cradling his much larger frame in your arms. And even though you know that he’ll be gone in the morning, leaving you with nothing but your aching heart and a cold bed, you always sink into his chest.

Because your love for him overshadows any amount of logic you hold.

Sakusa stares at your sleeping form as he dries his hair. A small smile blooms in his face. He’s always admired how peacefully you slept, he wonders what it must feel like to sleep like that, as if you didn’t have a care in the world — completely unaware that this is one of the only times in which you’re not troubled by your thoughts. His eyes fill with warmth as he sees you stir in your sleep. His heart swells as he thinks about how you both met. It’s weird, to think that such a reckless kid (read: you) could get along so well with a reserved kid (read: him).

Truth be told, he did want to speak to you as a child, he just didn’t know how to approach you — he was nothing more than a lonely kid, after all. To him you were (and still are) like the sun, so he could only dream of interacting with you. But when he saw you staring at him in class that one fateful day, that was all it took to give him the burst of confidence to sit next to you. He admired how you didn’t let anything stop you.

He’s always admired all of you.

He silently steps out of the apartment. He sighs.

He always hated leaving you alone. He wishes he didn’t have to leave for practice early. Heck, he wishes he could stop asking you to stay the night on weekdays, but both of you knew that Komori tended to make his impromptu visits early during weekends. Still, he hopes that maybe, someday, you’ll be able to stay the night and he’ll finally be able to be the first person you see when you wake up.

But for now, he settles for holding you as close as he can until he’s forced to leave for practice, keeping your warmth with him as he tries to make it through the day until he can finally see you again. Because clinging desperately onto that flickering ember of hope that you feel the same way he does is, that’s all he can do.

Sakusa has never really considered himself to be a violent person. That would include punching someone, or getting all soaked in someone else’s blood — and frankly, that’s not something he’d enjoy. But right now? Right now that sounds appealing. And the unlucky soul that is getting on his nerves (for the nth time) is none other than Miya Atsumu.

Sakusa doesn’t really know what he was expecting (not much, really), but he certainly wasn’t expecting Atsumu to rush over to where he was as soon as he set foot in the gym, spouting nonsense about whatever it is he was talking about. Sakusa never pays attention to what he says, anyway. He doesn’t regard it as important, thus, he sees no need to register what the setter is saying. Or, that was the case until he heard your name fall from the blonde’s lips.

“What did you say?”

Atsumu stops talking, an offended expression taking over his face.

“Did you not listen to a single word I said?”

“Was I supposed to?” Sakusa deadpans. He hears snickering coming from behind him, and he doesn’t even have to turn around to know it’s Bokuto and Hinata.

Atsumu places his hands on his shoulders.

“I said-”

“Don’t touch me.”

He rolls his eyes before removing his hands from his shoulders.

“I said,” he pouts, “how long is it going to take for Y/N to get here?”

Sakusa raises a brow, “what makes you think she’s coming over?”

“She always comes over during practice!” Hinata chirps.

Bokuto eagerly nods, “we love having her around!”

The other two men nod in agreement. Sakusa narrows his eyes as he glances between the three men.

“And why do you want to know if she’s going to get here?”

The trio look at each other before staring at Sakusa.

“She always arrives a little while after you do,” Atsumu says. Bokuto smiles and nods, Hinata copies his movements. Sakusa looks away.

“She’s busy,” he mutters. That wasn’t a lie, per se. You wouldn’t be going to visit, and he was sure you’d be busy throughout the day. He knew that they were referring to whether or not you’d be arriving later on during morning practice — you always did, after all, your mornings were never busy. But, he also knew that you wouldn’t be coming over because you’d complained about how sore your legs would be in the morning. Sakusa has never been so thankful for a mask before. He’s aware that if his friends saw the red in his cheeks they’d freak out.

Bokuto and Hinata visibly deflate at the ravenette’s answer, but a look of silent comprehension flashes through Atsumu’s eyes.

“Must’ve gone too hard on her, huh?” he smirks. The other two men look at each other with confusion. Sakusa really didn’t want to have to deal with Atsumu’s bullshit this early in the morning.

“Shut up, Atsumu,” he growls.

“It’s nothin’ to be ashamed about, Omi,” he snickers, “one can only keep things like those a secret for so long.”

Silent understanding flashes through Hinata and Bokuto’s faces. Sakusa glares at the setter.

“I thought I told you to mind your business,” he seethes.

“You did, but here’s the thing,” Atsumu leans in, “the way you treat us nicer when she’s around sort of makes it our business.”

Sakusa’s brows furrow in confusion, “That makes no sense?!”

Bokuto looks at Hinata, bewilderment evident in his features.

“I think he means that because Omi treats us nicer when Y/N’s around then we should be aware of when she’s coming over,” he whispers. Bokuto slowly nods in understanding. He looks at Sakusa.

“So that must mean you two have been dating for a while, right?” Bokuto asks.

Sakusa flinches and he scratches the back of his neck. He doesn’t answer.

“Are you two not dating?” Hinata asks, his voice laced with shock. Sakusa slowly shakes his head. His cheeks are burning up from embarrassment. Atsumu lets out a low whistle.

“So you two are just fuck buddies, then,” he concludes.

“What makes you so sure about that?” there’s an undertone of annoyance in Sakusa’s voice.

“Well, for starters,” he drawls, “I know hickeys and scratches when I see them, and you both meet that criteria.” He raises his hands.

“Besides, you’re always eye-fucking each other when you’re in the same room. And neither of you are in a relationship that we know of.”

Sakusa sharply breathes in. Atsumu smirks at the opposite hitter’s silently shaken form. Hinata steps closer.

“You like her, though, right?” he softly asks. Sakusa looks at him.

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘love’,” he whispers.

“Does she know?” Bokuto quickly adds. Silence.

Atsumu groans, “Well, you’re gonna tell her soon, ‘kay?” Sakusa’s eyes widen.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he sighs, “you can’t keep this up now that one of the rules is broken.”

“But,” Sakusa pauses, “I don’t know how to tell her.”

The three men look at each other, before determined smiles grace their lips.

“Here’s what you’re gonna do.”

You trust Sakusa with all your heart, truly. But in this very moment, you’re starting to doubt whether or not that’s a good decision.

He usually always lets you know what he’s planning. Key word: usually. You understand that he wants to surprise you and all, but you can’t help but grow anxious of where he’s taking you.

“Omi,” you laugh, “where are you taking me?” You entwine your fingers with his, trying to keep up to his pace.

He looks back at you and you see the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“I can’t tell you,” he chuckles, “it wouldn’t be a surprise if you knew, Y/N.”

Your lips turn up in amusement.

“You know,” you playfully say, “sometimes I wonder what happened to the little Kiyoomi I met.”

He stops and turns around. He lets go of your hand. His eyebrows are raised in amusement, and his eyes are full of intrigue.

“Is that supposed to be good or bad?” Sakusa asks, his tone questioning, yet still full of gaiety. You giggle. You can imagine the way the corners of his mouth are curved into a small smile underneath the mask. You tap your finger against your chin and you start walking closer to him.

“It depends,” you quip. You stick your tongue out when you see the look of faux offence in his face. You heartily laugh as you start running away from him, but you know he’d catch up to you — heck, you were counting on it. You look back and smile when you see him rapidly approaching. A deep chuckle makes its way out of his mouth. Your legs are burning from how tired you are, but you enjoyed being like this with him — as if you were both kids again, blissfully ignorant to all the dangers in the world, two youthful and innocent souls running around — the gentle breeze making your sundress slowly sway with it, the way Sakusa’s curls were bouncing as he ran to you.

You look back, your legs slowly coming to a stop. You heave, trying to catch your breath, your lips curving to form a grin on your face once you see Kiyoomi approaching.

“So,” you pant, “where are we headed off to again?”

He breathlessly laughs as he points to your left.

“You see that hill over there?” he breathes. You nod. He extends his hand out to you, a soft smile gracing his lips. You beam as you grab his hand. You intertwine your fingers with his, both of you slowly making your way up the hill.

“Is this…?” you trail off. Your eyes light up as you stare at the familiar scenery in front of you. You can vaguely remember how you used to run around as a child, a flower crown in your hands — one drastically different than the one sitting on your head — chasing after Sakusa, while your parents talked to each other, and Komori laughed seeing his cousin being chased by someone far smaller than him.

“Yeah,” he breathes. He steps closer to you, gingerly holding your hand in his as he places the other one on the small of your back. He rubs the back of your hand with his thumb and he gently kisses the top of your head.

Your heart does flips at the fact that he remembered such small details from your shared childhood.

Sakusa stares at you.

The orange hues of the sunset made you look far more beautiful.

He exhales, mustering up as much courage as he could. He hopes with every fiber of his being that things would work out in his favor. He wishes you can’t feel the slight tremble in his hands.

“Y/N?” he softly asks. You look at him, a small smile gracing your face, your cheeks slightly flushed, and you don’t know this, but Sakusa’s heart spikes when he sees the way the sun frames your form in its soft glow.

“I think,” he takes a deep breath, “I think we should stop this.”

Your heart drops. You know exactly what he means. But the selfish side of yourself wishes he wasn’t.

“Huh?” your eyes widen. You try to steady your breathing.

“I mean,” he clears his throat, “there’s really no point in keeping this up since the rule has been broken for a while now, right?”

You don’t say anything, you’re not sure if you could without your voice cracking.

“So, I think we should end this.”

You let go of his hand. His eyes widen. Neither of you know what’s going on through the other’s mind, but there’s one thought you both have in common.

You’ve fucked up.

Everything was a mistake.

You shouldn’t have done this. You should’ve stopped this from the moment it popped into your life. You should’ve stopped this before things escalated too quickly, maybe that way you’d spare yourself the pain of having to face the truth in that way.

You haven’t seen Sakusa ever since he cut things off. You’ve ignored every call, every text — from both him and Komori — you’re not sure you can face him. Not yet, at least. Or maybe not ever.

Hot tears start streaming down your cheeks.

Was this really it? Was this really the end of the line for both of you?

You groan, crouching in front of your bedroom door as if it could provide any comfort to your heart. It had been weeks since you last saw him. You curse yourself for still being hung up about it, but you know that these things hurt. They hurt and they need time to heal, yet you still know that recovering from this is something you don’t want, because it would mean leaving him — leaving Sakusa Kiyoomi, the man who held your heart in his hands ever since he was a kid — behind. And you’re not sure if you’re ready for that yet (you don’t want to be).

You want to let go, you really do. But at the same time you don’t. You sniffle. If you’d known the aftermath of your arrangement was this — your heart in shambles, aching at the fact that you haven’t seen Kiyoomi in days (but you don’t want to see him, either, you’re afraid of what will happen) — you wouldn’t have agreed in the first place.

You bury your face in your hands. You hate this feeling of being adrift, because you know you’re feeling like this because of him. And the least you wanted to do was feel anything other than love towards him (your heart can’t bear harboring any resentment that’s aimed at him).

You hear a loud knock. Your head snaps up. You don’t move. There’s a moment of silence before the knocking becomes more persistent. You get up, drying your eyes with the sleeve of your — well, Sakusa’s — hoodie (that you stole). You walk over to your front door and swing it open only to find yourself face to face with Komori. You both stare at each other for a second and you slam the door.

Panic rushes through you. You slap your cheeks and take a deep breath before you open the door. Komori freezes like a deer in headlights. Uncomfortable silence settles between you two. You awkwardly shuffle your feet.

“Do you,” you awkwardly cough, “do you want to come in?”

He hesitantly nods and you step out of the way.

“Uh,” he pauses, “how have you been?”

You shoot him a withering look. Out of all the things he could say, he just had to go ahead and ask about that.

Dumbass.

You click your tongue, “what does it look like?”

He bites the inside of his cheek, “that was a stupid question, wasn’t it?” You nod. He flinches at the stony look in your eyes.

“Why are you here, Komori?”

He opens his mouth and immediately closes it. You know he’s weighing the options between telling you or not.

You really don’t have the patience for this.

“Komori.”

He winces.

“He misses you,” he mumbles. Your heartbeat slowly picks up, a swarm of butterflies invades your stomach. You look away, hoping he can’t see the way the corners of your lips lift into a small, hopeful smile. But you soon stop yourself from going down this path again. A frown settling on your face instead.

“He shouldn’t,” you say, “he’s the reason I can’t face him.”

You clench your fist.

“I’m sure he’s told you all about the arrangement,” you bitterly say.

“Actually,” he clears his throat, “I was the one who gave him the idea.” He scratches the back of his head. Your head snaps towards Komori, your eyes widening and your lips parting in shock.

“What?”

He frantically waves his hands, “He wanted to be closer to you!”

“Komori,” you seethe, “do you have any idea the amount of heartache I had to go through because of your fucking idea?!”

“No one told you to agree!” he yells.

“I love him too much to say no to him!” you groan, “you already know that!”

He shoots you a puzzled look. You sigh.

“I,” you stutter, “I love him.”

Komori owlishly blinks at you.

“Let me get this straight,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “you agreed to it even though you’d already broken the rules?”

“Yes,” you grumble. You glare at Komori, your eyes matching the same level of annoyance as his.

“What were you thinking?!” he yells.

“That’s the problem!” you raise your arms in frustration, “I wasn’t thinking!”

You run a hand through your hair.

“It’s not like I woke up one day thinking ‘Oh, hey! It’s a perfect day to become fuckbuddies with Omi!’” a choked sob makes its way past your lips. You aggravatedly sigh and you rub your eyes.

He sighs, concern evident in his face.

“What made you agree to it if you knew it’d hurt you?” he whispered.

You stare at him, tears blurring your vision.

“I wanted to know what it would feel like to be loved by him,” you choke out. Now that you say it out loud, you’re aware of how stupid it sounds. You play with the hoodie’s strings, avoiding eye contact with the brunette.

“He never told you, did he?”

You look up.

“Told me what?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

He gulps. Your heart is beating a mile a minute as that tiny spark of hope ignites once more.

“He loves you.”

Your eyes widen, the butterflies in your stomach finally flying free.

“Where is he?” you breathe out.

“Y/N-”

“Komori,” you say, determination evident in your voice, “I need to see him.”

He smiles, “he’s practicing.”

And that’s all it takes to have you sprinting out of your apartment, screaming a quick ‘thank you’ to Komori over your shoulder as you slip on the first pair of shoes you could find.

A smile blooms on your face as you sprint towards the gym. And for the first time, your mind and heart agree.

The sound of squeaking finally reaches your ears as you walk as fast as you can — because let’s be real, your legs are burning, and you really regret running all the way over here — towards the gym doors.

You peek inside the gym and see Sakusa practicing his spikes along with Atsumu. Your heart feels giddy. You blush, whether it’s out of embarrassment or the fact that you ran for 15 minutes straight, you do not know. But you’ll be damned if you let this slip through your fingers.

“Who are we staring at?”

You jolt. You place your hand on your chest and look back. Bokuto beams at you, Hinata parroting the man’s actions.

“Uh,” you stammer, “I was looking for Omi.”

Hinata and Bokuto exchange a knowing look before they each grab your arms and walk you over in Sakusa’s direction.

You feel anxiety bubble up in the pit of your stomach. You wonder if he’d be happy to see you. You wish you’d practiced this before running over. Your breaths quicken, you can hear your pounding heart.

“Hey, Omi!” Hinata calls out.

Sakusa turns around and meets your eyes. You can see his eyes widen as they scan your figure. A soft blush covers his cheeks as he realizes your frame is engulfed by his much larger hoodie.

“Y/N?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. His eyes scan your face as he closes the distance between the two of you. You don’t notice when Bokuto and Hinata step away, and you’re sure Kiyoomi doesn’t, either.

“Omi,” you breathe out, tear streams down your cheek. He rushes over to you and wraps you in his arms. He rests his cheek on top of your head.

For the first time, you can feel how fast his heart is racing.

He trembles as he holds you close, and you tighten your hold around him.

“I missed you,” he croaks. You don’t miss the slight quiver in his voice. You look up at him, tears streaming down your face as you stare at the man who holds the keys to your heart.

“I missed you too,” you cry. He gently dries your tears.

“How did you-?”

“Komori,” you whisper. You bury your face in his chest.

“Wait, I’m really sweaty right now-”

“Doesn’t matter.” You nuzzle your face against him.

“I love you,” you say, barely audible, but it’s enough for Sakusa to catch those three words. You softly giggle as you feel his heart pound against your cheek.

“I love you,” he smiles, “I love you so much, Y/N.”

He cups your face. You can finally see how much love his eyes hold as he gazes at you.

You lean up and press your lips against his. You both smile against each other’s lips, kissing each other over and over again, completely wrapped around a small bubble of your own.

And for the first time in a long time, you’ve never been more grateful for making such a mistake as going through all of this with Sakusa Kiyoomi.

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