#I saw it coming from a mile away but let me dream ig

[rangerstark25]

Sadposting about Etho losing to Scar on the mcytumblrsexyman polls. </3

[educatedsimps]

Hello I just read the kuroo physiotherapist AU and I’m smiling so hard…it was so cute. I really love your writing. Could I request a bit of angst tho? I just watched the voice (the kdrama) and the the beginning the ml (who’s a detective) turns up to a scene where he realises the deceased is his wife, asks her to come back and home and ya know, the tears screams and crying.. Could I request this with uhh, um, multiple haikyuu (detective) boys?

request - detectiveHQ!AU

main masterlist | requests / others masterlist

characters: Atsumu, Osamu, Iwaizumi, Oikawa, Yaku (yes our favs)

genre: ANGST

warnings: death, slight gore, reader is their wife ig

total wc:

a/n: hey there, anon!! glad you liked that hospital AU fic :D thank you for your request - IT’S TIME FOR SOME ANGST >:) I've never watched that drama before bUT I hope that this was what you meant :) tbh this request was pretty challenging for us, but regardless, thank you for sending it in! enjoy <3 -lyssa

PS: sorry it took us so long to post this, we’ve been pretty busy recently :(

content under the cut!

— MIYA ATSUMU

After receiving the call from his chief investigator, Atsumu raced to the crime scene, his heart beating uncontrollably. His mind was scattered, desperately trying to convince himself this wasn’t real, that they identified the wrong woman. He roughly wiped his tears away, refusing to let fear overtake him.

Detectives aren’t supposed to get emotional when it comes to cracking cases, he chided himself.

He had been trying to track down this serial killer for a heck long time now, but it seems he was too late. The killer had struck.

Ducking beneath the barricade tape, Atsumu ran towards the blue tent covering the body. Breathing heavily, his throat tightened with every step he took. Fellow investigators shouting at him to stop, some coming towards him to hold him back, but they were no use.

Atsumu only saw the cold, still face of the woman who was the light of his life, laying on the hard ground. A pool of blood around her abdomen and chest, her once luscious hair now matte and sprawled on the ground beneath her head. A loud sob escaped his trembling lips. Falling to his knees, he reached for her face and held it in his hands. The face he had woken up to every morning for the past eight years of his life. The face that once held the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

He didn’t care for the blood soaking through his shirt and staining his hands as he held her body close to his. He didn’t care for the cold raindrops piercing into his skin like knives. He didn’t care for the tears that flowed down his cheeks and onto his wife’s body.

Rocking back and forth, he cried desperately, “Wake up… Wake up… Don’t leave me, babe, you can’t leave me, please… I should never have left you alone.. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s all my fault… P-please, come back, I love you…”

He had failed. He couldn’t protect the love of his life, the one who taught him what love felt like, the only one he had ever wanted to spend forever with. What use is a detective who can’t even protect his loved ones?

— MIYA OSAMU

Osamu's heart was pounding.

He wasn’t sure if it was because of the mile-long sprint from his car to the crime scene or the face of his dead wife being held gently in his hands. His hands, shirt and pants were dyed scarlet, but he only saw the memories and dreams he had of his life with her.

He remembered their high school days, when they’d volunteered at the police department with Atsumu during the holidays, helping to patrol their neighbourhood and sometimes cordon off areas where a crime had taken place. Both of you had taken an interest in detective work during your teenage years and have worked together on so many cases since then. Osamu still remembered the suicide case that the two of you were assigned to right after your marriage. He had wanted to continue discussions about it even at home, but you had firmly denied his request, in a bid to segregate between work and family life.

Now he just wanted you to return to him. His resolve to believe that the officers had identified the wrong woman crumbled faster the longer he held onto you.

His lips wobbled as he tried to contain his emotions. A single tear escaped, but it only unleashed a wave of tears streaming down his face. Holding your lifeless body in his hands, Osamu no longer felt the warmth he had once felt around you.

He no longer felt your heart beating for him and him only. Your delicate face remained void of expression.

Osamu felt... cold and empty.

His colleagues pulled him away in a matter of minutes. He struggled, trying to resist the firm grip around his arms.

“No… no, let me hold her. Please,” He begged. His eyes were swollen and red, breathing ragged. He sounded like a broken man.

Osamu felt his heart ripping into a thousand pieces, pounding painfully in his chest as he watched the officers place a blue tent over your body.

He crumbled to the ground, his head in his hands, crying as he mourned the loss of you, his precious wife.

— OIKAWA TŌRU

His eyebrows were furrowed deeply together that the crease looked permanent. His chest was heaving, choked sobs and laboured breaths were the only sounds heard in the small room. His fellow investigators respectfully left the room to let him grieve privately.

Oikawa let out a lifeless chuckle. With his tears flowing endlessly down his cheeks, he uttered, "Princess... stop acting already... this was a really good prank of yours, it almost seems real. You got me real good... I know that you're still here with me, please wake up... please. I know you're still there..."

His weariness was palpable, the entire atmosphere gloomy.

He cradled your face gently, his fingers tracing your now pasty white complexion. He remembered all the happy moments with you, from high school to university to being a newly married couple in your twenties.

Why were you taken away from him so soon?

It seemed that every promise you'd both made to each other was but a dream. A dream that was now shattered by the harsh reality of your circumstance.

Oikawa's lips trembled, and he was soon overcome with pain, the agony prevalent in his sobs, his muttering of partially delusional words.

You were gone, and he was now a man, void of everything he had ever known.

— IWAIZUMI HAJIME

It had been four months since that day. The day he finally caught the psychotic serial killer.

The same day his wife was murdered.

Iwaizumi remembered it as clear as ever. The slashes on her throat, and the multiple stab wounds that littered her abdomen and lower body still haunted him in his sleep. The cold, lifeless face of his beautiful wife, now mere ashes in an urn.

Iwaizumi had been deteriorating ever since. The guilt, hanging heavily on him every second of every day, ate at him slowly. It chewed up his insides, clawing it’s way up from his heart to his head, rearing its ugly head wherever he went. He saw her everywhere. His nightmares and daydreams all revolved around her and that fateful day.

Iwaizumi wasn’t exactly a religious man, but every night, he prayed. He prayed to any god listening to him from above, that heaven would take him too, so that he could be reunited with his beloved. He couldn’t take it anymore, not in this hellish world with no light to guide him, no love to heal him.

Angry cries and anguished shouts became a normality to his neighbours. The pain had never once left him, never once relinquished its deathly hold on his heart. The guilt, the shame, the anger - it was an endless stream. Nobody could help him. Not his parents, not his friends, not even Oikawa. His voice had become scratchy and hoarse after months of yelling at nothing. His throat was constantly burning, but Iwaizumi had never once felt it.

At least she never got pregnant, he thought bitterly, his sullen cheeks as tear-stained as always. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if he had let both his wife and his baby die such horrible deaths.

He didn’t care for the slump he was in, neither did he care for what had been happening around him since. He couldn’t even think about revenge. He had lost his wife. The love of his life, his forever, his universe. The hole in his heart only grew with each passing day, with each memory of her and each reminder that she wasn’t coming back.

— YAKU MORISUKE

“Yaku-san, the deceased… Is believed to be your wife. Please make your way to the crime scene now.”

The second he heard his wife mentioned by his colleague over the phone, his heart seemed to stop beating.

Yaku managed to sputter out an “okay, i’m coming right now,” before hastily grabbing his things and running over to the apartment building a few blocks away.

His head was spinning the whole way there. The only thing on his mind was you. He chanted your name in his head like a mantra, praying that they had misidentified the body, that he’d reach the crime scene only to confirm that the deceased was, in fact, not his wife.

To say that he was nervous was an understatement. By the time he burst through the apartment doors, hastily flashing his ID card to the officers guarding the perimeters, his entire frame was shaking. Unshed tears stung his eyes and his heart was pulsating rapidly.

His stomach dropped at the familiar sight of his wife, now dead on the floor of her friend’s apartment. His throat threatened to cut off his air supply upon seeing the strangulation marks around his wife’s neck.

He knelt beside her unmoving frame, strained whispers of “no, it- it can’t be… come on, it’s not y/n… baby, wake up, please…” leaving his lips. He slowly reached out to grasp your hand in his, now shaking with unparalleled fear and grief. Your eyes remained closed, your lips now pale.

He tore his eyes from you to look up at his teammates, who stood a few feet away. Kuroo’s eyes were red and puffy, yet still rimmed with fresh tears. You had known Kuroo first, before he introduced you to Yaku, but Kuroo couldn’t imagine what it felt like to lose his wife. (wow-) Kenma looked like he had something to say, but eventually decided to keep quiet, realising that no amount of words could comfort Yaku at that moment. Yamamoto hung his head, not offering much more than a look of sorrow and pity.

Yaku turned back to his wife’s body, suddenly hit with a round of flashbacks from when he had first met you, to your first date, his proposal, your wedding day, and everything between and after that.

He knew the physical pain he felt in his heart would be temporary compared to the emotional one.

He wanted to hurl, to yell, to scream and curse. y/n wouldn’t want that, he thought bitterly, the mere thought of you plunging yet another (metaphorical) knife into his already shattered heart.

Everything after that seemed to go by in seconds. He didn’t process when or how they brought the body out, when he went home, when he met your family and broke the news to them.

He felt dead. Dead, cold and lifeless. For what was his life without you?

a/n: hi again! didn’t manage to write a part for daichi, but we wrote iwa’s. hope that’s okay :”) and let us know what you think! (comment or send an ask <3) thank you for readinggg :>

© educatedsimps 2021. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarize any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down (likes and reblogs are appreciated)

[girlgrouptrash101]

MinYul (IZ*ONE) - He’ll Never Be You

Request: naur i just got some minyul feeels and had to get this out of my system yike

Word Count: 4,058

Warnings: there is none all is safe my friends 

A/N: anything randomly in bold is their thoughts cuz,, idk minyul be having inner monologue moments ig

“It was so romantic, Yul! He held my hand and gave me his jacket! I swear I think I might be in love with him!” Minju squealed, kicking her legs up from where she lay on Yuri’s bed. The younger girl sat beside her, deep in thought. What was the difference between her and Hwang Hyunjin? She always held Minju’s hand and gave Minju her jacket when she was cold. Why was it such a special thing when he did it? Yuri huffed.

“Yuri, you good?” Minju asked, turning her head to look at her best friend. 

“Yeah, I’m fine dumbo. Just sick of hearing you sound like a lovesick puppy, that’s all.” Yuri joked, resorting to teasing in order to mask the pain in her chest; jealousy and sadness mixing together to leave harsh thoughts in the younger girl’s mind.  

“Don’t worry Yul, no need to be jealous. I’m sure someone will ask you out soon.” 

Yuri sighed. She sure was jealous, but it certainly wasn’t because she didn’t have anyone like Minju did. It was because Minju had someone that wasn’t her. 

“Cheer up buttercup. Wanna watch a movie?” Minju asked cheerily, unable to detect any of the inner turmoil currently spiralling in Yuri’s mind. The older didn’t even wait for Yuri to reply, grabbing the younger girl’s laptop and opening netflix. Yuri could only sit and watch as Minju picked a cheesy rom-com before snuggling into Yuri’s side. An action that had happened thousands of times before was now making Yuri stiffen like a statue, afraid Minju would hear the thumping of her heart as she nestled into her neck.

‘Friendship gets a lot harder when feelings are involved’, Yuri thinks to herself. 

-

Drip.

Drop.

Drip.

Drop.

Yuri’s eyes flitted over to the kitchen sink, taking a breath as the splashes of water could be heard falling from the spout, the only other noise in the room apart from the steady breathing and occasional page turn from the girl in front of her. She tried her best to let the water distract her, tried to get her mind to focus on anything other than her best friend in front of her.

But they just wouldn’t.

They just couldn’t.

Unfortunately for Yuri, some part of her just couldn’t bear to keep her eyes off Minju for more than a minute. Maybe it was the way her dark locks framed her face as she focused on her homework; maybe it was the way she chewed her lip in concentration; or maybe it was just everything about her that drove Yuri crazy. The younger girl sighed softly as her eyes raked over her friend once more, her unfinished homework a mere memory of the past as her mind became overwhelmed with the same thing it a;ways did these days - Kim Minju.

“You’re going to burn a hole through me soon if you don’t stop staring, Yul.”

Yuri jumped as her best friend finally broke the comfortable silence that had settled between the two of them. She cleared her throat abruptly, muttering out a small apology before looking back down at her half-written essay in an attempt to hide her now flushed cheeks behind her hair. 

“I’m kidding, you dummy. What’s up? Are you stuck on your work or something?” Minju asked, leaning over the table to poke her friend on top of her head.

“U- Um no, I’m okay Min, don’t worry-”

“Yul it’s okay! Let me help.” The older girl said, moving around the kitchen table to sit right next to Yuri. The younger girl’s breath hitched at Minju’s closeness, doing her best to keep composed as Minju read over her page, leaning into her side to get a better look.

“Yuri, this is really good! I don’t understand what’s wrong.” Minju said, turning to look at her friend who was looking everywhere but back at her. Minju sighed before leaning onto the table, propping her head up on her hand as she tried to catch Yuri’s eye.

“Jo Yuri.”

“Uh, yeah?” 

“What’s up with you lately? You’re not acting like the Yul I know, and it’s weirding me out. Is there anything you wanna talk about?” She said, her voice a bit softer now as she brushed a strand of hair behind Yuri’s ear. The smaller girl finally looked up at her, a sad look in her eye as she tried to speak to Minju, but the words just wouldn’t come. 

Minju was right, and Yuri couldn’t deny it. She had stopped teasing the girl, stopped the skinship, just stopped being cuddly old Yuri around Minju. Yuri could tell that the older girl hated these changes and knew something was up, but she just couldn’t tell her. She would never be able to tell her that lately, her every thought, her every worry, her every concern.. It was all about Minju. While she had always loved Minju since they’d become best friends in primary school, it was a different kind of love these days.

Those brown eyes she used to look in were now galaxies that pulled Yuri in and the younger girl never wanted to look away.

Her vanilla scent that had always seemed just too sweet to Yuri was now a flavour she wanted to drown herself in. 

The lips she used to smear ice cream on playfully to annoy the younger girl were now ones she wanted to kiss, over and over, and over again.

But, the fear.

The fear of losing years of friendship, memories, laughter, love… Yuri was way too afraid to say anything for fear she’d lose everything. Though it was hard being around the girl you love every day without being able to have her the way she really wanted, Yuri still kept quiet. She kept quiet around the only girl she was truly ever able to be her loud, bashful self around, and it was so obvious to the both of them that the balance in their friendship was majorly askew. 

'Fear is truly a powerful thing when it wants to be', Yuri thinks to herself as she repeats the same excuse she’s given to Minju for the last few weeks. 

“I can’t talk to you about this one, Min. But I’m alright, I promise.”

Minju nodded softly, a disheartened look on her face. Yuri's heart clenched in pain to see those eyes tinged with sadness, especially knowing it was because of her, but she just couldn't tell her. Not now, not when there was so much at stake.

The older girl sighed out once again, feeling dejected as she moved back to her own seat. Her mind was racing at a mile a minute, wondering what could be bothering Yuri so bad that she couldn't even tell Minju anything about it. The two had never kept secrets from one another before, so it truly hurt Minju to be iced out this way.

The girls worked in a now deeply uncomfortable silence, both of them stuck between an atmosphere of wanting to talk but also wanting to run away from the issue completely. It was clear to anyone that Yuri was the one who wanted to do most of the running.

Once the sun began to set, Yuri used an excuse of her mom calling her home, quickly packing her bag and darting out of the older girl's kitchen. This left Minju alone with her thoughts, which quickly began to spiral.

‘This isn't my Yul, something is seriously wrong here.

She's been iffy for a while now, but today was something more.

There had never been a second of awkwardness between us before, ever, but today...

It was almost hard to breathe, sitting in that horrible silence.

She can't tell me, but why?

The only reason Yuri would keep something from me is if it was about me...?

Is it about me?

Did I hurt Yul?

God. What did I do to make her so uneasy around me...?’

Minju shut her eyes tight in an attempt to block out her inner monologue, her head falling into her palms as she sat at the kitchen table. Yuri was her rock, her partner in crime, her... whatever! Yuri was someone she couldn't live without. The girl she relied so heavily upon was building a wall between them, one she had to break down before the last brick could be placed.

Minju could never last a day without Yuri, her Yul, by her side.

-

While Minju wallowed in her sorrows at home, Yuri fared no better. She said a quick hello to her parents, blurting out some excuse as to why she was skipping dinner and making a beeline for her room.

The young girl threw herself into her bed, letting her covers swallow her up, just as her emotions had been doing to her lately. She closed her eyes and desperately searched for sleep, but it never came.

Just as it had been for every night for the last few months, the same thing ran through her mind.

‘Minju,

Minju,

Minju.’

While she thought keeping her feelings to herself would keep their friendship afloat, it seemed that things were going downhill whether she spoke to Minju about it or not. Just why did these things have to be so complicated?

'Stupid Minju for being so stupidly irressistible', she thought. 

Yuri huffed. Just why did Kim Minju think she could have so much power over her thoughts and emotions anyway? Stupid frog. Stupid Minju and her stupid charming smile, her stupid kissable lips, the stupid way she held Yuri's hand as they walked, the stupid way she cuddled closer to Yuri during sleepovers because she wasn't fond of the dark.

‘Stupid. It's all stupid’, Yuri thinks.

After going through a few more mental battles of anger and sadness, she finally found the sleep she had been chasing. So with one loud yawn and a flutter of her eyes closed, Yuri fell into dream land with only one thought remaining in her mind.

‘God, I'm so fucking in love.’

-

The next day went by, and both girls were left in radio silence. Minju felt the younger needed space, and Yuri didn't know what she was doing at all.

She spent her time mindlessly scrolling through Instagram on her bed, trying to keep her thoughts away from Minju. However, it truly was just her luck when the girl in question popped up on her feed. It was a picture posted by Hwang Hyunjin, and it was a selfie with Minju. She was pressed into his side, a wide smile on her face as he held her close to him. Yuri let her eyes drift down to the caption, her breath hitching as she saw the simple heart emoji on her screen. Her heart dwindled even further when she saw Minju's response; a matching heart emoji.

It was nothing out of the ordinary for the two, no sudden confession of love, but to Yuri, it just shattered her already torn heart once again.

A tear rolled down Yuri's cheek.

A bitter laugh fell from her lips as she pictured herself. 'Jo Yuri, crying over a fucking emoji?' What had become of her?.

She told herself that over and over again, but she knew it was more. It wasn't just an emoji, it was the fact that Hyunjin had a chance with Minju that Yuri could never even dream of having.

Hyunjin was just Minju's type. Tall, athletic, handsome - everything Yuri just about wasn't. She scoffed, cursing the boy in her head, wishing she hadn't seen it. Wishing these overbearing feelings would go away. Wishing Minju was by her side, holding her close and keeping her safe.

But wishing does nothing but remind people of what they don't have.

-

The weekend dragged by for both girls.

Minju spent most of it with Hyunjin, cuddling up and watching movies for hours on end. However, as happy as she thought she should be, it just didn’t feel that way for her. Hyunjin was lovely, he truly was, and he cared for her, he really did. But for Minju, it just didn’t feel right. 

He just wasn’t Yuri.

He didn’t make her feel warm inside like Yuri did. He didn’t make her laugh by making fun of all the characters in the movies they watched like Yuri did. But Minju said nothing. Falling for anyone is scary, but falling deep for your best friend is even scarier. She never felt like Yuri would ever love her back so she did her best to move on and find comfort in others. 

Hyunjin wasn’t Yuri. But if she couldn’t be with Yuri, then he was enough.

Just as it had for Minju, time also ticked despairingly slowly for Yuri who had spent the weekend without Minju for the first time in years.

By the time Monday rolled around, Yuri could barely drag herself out of bed for school. She haphazardly threw on her uniform while mentally preparing a plan for the day that would allow her to avoid Minju. She decided that if she can't be with her, she would have to distance herself. The pain of loving someone so close to you was more suffocating than anything Yuri had ever experienced before, she just couldn't take it.

However, Yuri's plan immediately went awry when she opened her front door and saw her best friend there waiting for her. Minju gave her a small smile, the gesture fading as Yuri didn't reciprocate it.

"Yul-"

"Come on, Min, we'll be late." Yuri said abruptly, speeding last the older girl. Yuri didn't want her to speak, hearing the soft tone in her voice only made her heart clench more for the brunette.

It took only a minute for Minju to catch up, the older girl stopping Yuri by grabbing her by the wrist.

"Yuri, we won't be late. Now will you cut the bullshit and just talk to me?" Minju said, her brows furrowing. Yuri looked away again, trying to find an escape from the situation. Minju grabbed the younger's cheeks, forcing her to look her in the eyes.

For a moment, Yuri's world stops. She almost forgets her predicament when Minju looks at her, her eyes holding a mixture of worry and sadness as she looks down at the younger of the two. In an ideal world, Yuri would have already kissed the pout off her face, pulling her back inside her home to skip school and spend the day wrapped in one another's arms.

But this isn't an ideal world.

"Yul, whatever's going on with you, we need to talk it out. You're my best friend! Who's gonna be there with me every step of the way if it isn't you?" She asked earnestly.

For some reason, the sadness in the pit of Yuri's stomach began to turn to anger at Minju’s words. She just couldn’t help it. 

"I don't know. Hyunjin, maybe?" She asked, a coldness to her voice. Minju's hands dropped back down to her sides. Yuri already missed her warmth.

"What does Hyunjin have to do with anything Yuri? Why are you always like this when it comes to him..." Minju muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

"He has everything to do with this Minju. I'm like this because... because I don't like him. One fucking bit." Yuri continued, the anger bubbling up now. She knew she had no reason to get so pissed at Minju, or even Hyunjin, but sometimes, with love comes jealousy. Once that green monster rises up within her, Yuri finds it almost impossible to suppress it. 

"Yul, he's really nice! He brought me on a lovely date this weekend, I'm sure you'd get along with him just fine! He-"

"Minju, don't you get it? Don't you get it at all?" Yuri's fists clenched with how hard she was trying to keep her tears in right now. Minju shook her head, fear gracing her features as she watched her best friend, the small girl now overcome with anger.

"I- I won't like your stupid boyfriend and I won't ever like him because-"

A hiccuped breath interrupted Yuri's words as a cause of the hot tears that were now streaming down her face, her balled fists not bothering to wipe them away.

"Because?" Minju pressed, needing answers.

But Yuri stayed silent.

"Yuri, jesus fucking christ will you just talk? Whatever you have to say can't be that bad-"

"Because I'm in love with you."

Minju froze. 

‘She was what?’

"I'm in love with you Minju. I know you don't feel the same but I have to tell you because this weight, the fucking weight of being around you, being scared to touch you for fear I might fall even further, being scared to say too much in case I scare you away... it's too much for me Minju."

Yuri inhaled. She said it.

Minju was silent.

Yuri took it as a sign.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let this come between us. I hope he treats you right." Yuri said finally, her tears falling even harder than before. She took one last look up at her best friend's face and wished desperately that she hadn't, because the look of shock there seemed to tell her everything she needed to know. 

So she turned back to her house, trudging slowly as the consequences of her actions began to dawn on her.

With every step, she hoped, prayed, wished, for Minju to call her back, to hold her tight, to tell her everything would be okay. But she didn't.

So Yuri continued walking away.

Alone.

-

Two weeks had passed.

Yuri was lucky, with midterm rolling around she didn't have to make excuses to stay away from Minju or from school, locking herself up inside her bedroom for the two weeks.

As the days ticked by, Yuri tried to convince herself that this was right, and this was how life was going to be now. She didn't need Minju, she didn't need the pain or the heartbreak in her life.

‘But lying to yourself doesn't always work does it?’

It doesn't, Yuri thinks, as she spends another night staring at her phone. She waits and waits, willing for it to ring. She wants to hear her voice and her laugh, and talk to her about her worries. Minju had always been her safe place to go after something had gone wrong in life.

Where does Yuri go when Minju is the problem that went wrong?

(The phone never rings. Yuri doesn't get to hear her voice.)

-

There were two days of midterm left, and Yuri was dreading going back to school. She'd be obviously alone there, with no comfort of being able to pretend life doesn't exist inside the safe confines of her bedroom walls.

Yuri felt herself about to drift off into another countless nap, until her serenity was broken by a knock at her door. Her mom was there, a look of pity on her features.

"There's someone here for you."

Yuri nodded, heading down to the door. She stepped outside, looking down at her feet until she heard the sound of the other person clearing her throat.

"Yul,"

Followed by a sigh.

"Can you look at me, please?"

Yuri looked up, meeting eyes with the one girl she wanted to run a mile away from right now. Yuri couldn’t help but notice that she looked tired, and more worn out than she'd ever seen her before.

"We need to talk, huh?"

Yuri nodded, following Minju as she moved to sit on the steps of Yuri's porch. They sat in silence for a little while, until finally, Yuri spoke.

"Hi."

It was quiet, said in a voice small enough that would've been missed if Minju wasn't listening to the younger so intently.

"Hi, Yuri." She said with a soft chuckle, taking in the appearance of the younger girl. She had her hair in a messy bun, dressed in sweatpants and a baggy hoodie. Yuri looked straight ahead, feeling nervous as Minju surveyed her.

"You never let me speak, you know." Minju started, puzzling the younger girl.

"Huh?" She asked, turning to meet Minju who had a small smile on her features.

"Well, I know my Yul is dramatic but I didn't think it was this bad." She continued, chucking a small bit. Yuri wasn't impressed.

"Minju, if you've come here just to make fun of me, then you can go right back home." She said sternly, her brows only knitting further as Minju's chuckle turned into a laugh.

"Seriously, Yuri. You might be the stupidest person I've ever met. What kind of person confesses their love to someone then runs away from them before they can even reply?" She says, letting out a disbelieving laugh before scooting closer to Yuri.

"I... I don't know. You just looked shocked and I didn't want to be rejected by you so I just.. left."

"Yuri, what did I tell you about assuming things before they happen?" Minju said, her voice still teasing.

"What do you mean?" Yuri questioned, her eyes locking with Minju’s. She searched the other girl’s dark orbs for answers, but they revealed nothing, her features untelling of what the older girl was about to say next. 

"I love you too, Yuri. You fucking idiot." Minju confessed, the end of her sentence turning to a whisper as she got lost in Yuri’s eyes. Just as the younger girl was about to speak up, Minju silenced her. 

Closing the small gap between her face and Yuri’s, Minju couldn’t help but smile into the kiss as she heard her friend’s gasp of surprise before she began to kiss her back. 

Minju’s stomach filled with butterflies. This was it, the feeling she was looking for. She never felt like this when she kissed Hyunjin, or anyone else. It was always Yuri.

It’ll always be Yuri, she thinks as she pulls away, admiring her best friend’s blushing features. They both stared at one another, neither wanting to be the one to break the serene silence that had enveloped them. It was Yuri who eventually spoke up, her eyes turning to crescents that made Minju’s heart race as she smiled.

"If being called a fucking idiot means I get to kiss you like that again, then don't ever call me anything else." Yuri said, half joking, half deadly serious. Minju couldn't help but start laughing at Yuri's dorkiness, the younger soon joining her. While they had spent so much time together over the years, not a single moment had ever made them feel as complete as they did now. 

-

The two sat on Yuri’s front porch for the next few hours, watching the sunset as their hands were intertwined, Yuri's head resting softly on Minju's shoulder.

"I can't believe you were going to date Hwang Hyunjin instead of me." Yuri said, poking fun at Minju.

"Hey! How the hell was I ever supposed to know you liked me back? You have the emotional capacity of a pebble, there's no way I could've guessed!" Minju said, making the two of them break down into laughter.

"A pebble? That's so rude!"

"Yeah, you're right. I'm sure pebbles express their emotions much better than you do." Minju replied, a teasing lilt to her voice.

You're so annoying. You frog." Yuri said, her actions betraying her words as she nestled closer into Minju's side.

"A frog, maybe. But your frog at least." The older girl replied, pressing a small kiss to the crown of her head, smiling.

"Mm. My frog. My stupid, annoying, beautiful, frog." Yuri said finally, pressing a soft kiss to Minju's neck before closing her eyes and letting herself fall asleep against Minju, the fading sun still keeping her warm as the evening passed by.

Minju took a deep breath as she appreciated her surroundings. She had the girl of her dreams cuddled into her, a beautiful sunset in front of her, and a powerful feeling of warmth and love in her chest that she had never felt before. Her thoughts returned to the girl tucked into her side as she too began to close her eyes, letting her mind wander as she allowed herself to drift off into a peaceful sleep.

‘Jo Yuri.

Stupid Jo Yuri.

My Jo Yuri.’

[sumeshi-t]

falling.

fwb!sakusa x reader

wc: 1.7k

warning: slight nsfw mention here and there

i tried tried making this as just a drabble, but i think i might have gotten carried away sksksks 

tagging cheesecult: @akaashit-baeji @bubbleteaa @yamagucheese @milkandc00kiez @akaashichigo @drainedjaz @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @mlkytobio @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes  @simping4ratsumu @shishinoya @ushiwakaa @kxgeyamasmilk @agaassi @hanibuni @cupofkenma  @kawanisshi @thiccbokuto @shinsukestan @sufiawrites @wakaitoshi @skyguy-peach @fern-writes-ig @briswriting @airybby @kawaiikraykray @miyuswriting @raevaioli @ouikarwa @hakueishirei

and thank you mom @taeiliee for beta-ing this omg ilysm

you were sat at the corner of the large hall, watching as strangers kissed strangers, brushing their sweating bodies against each other on the dance floor, the smell of alcohol and lust and sin heavy in the air, all this muted by the loud blaring of music, the bass thumping along with your heartbeat, sending vibrations to your skull.

sighing, you swiveled on the chair, before asking the bartender for a drink. you were just going to enjoy one more shot, give your friends a text, and go home, sleep, end the night as dull as it should be.

until this man, whose curly hair framed his face perfectly, two distinct moles just above one of his brows, the scent of fresh laundry and lavender reaching your nose, caught in your periphery, sitting a chair away from you. his mask prevented you from seeing him in full view but just a look at his eyes tells you that he's been through hell just by being in that place. 

he only asked for water, took out a handkerchief and wiped the rim of the glass before pulling down his mask to take careful sips. he must've noticed you watching him, so he turned to you.

as silly as it sounds, you hiccuped at having realized how cute this man actually was without the mask. you quickly cover your mouth and, surprisingly, he asks the bartender to get you a glass of water. 

"you having fun?" you ask him once your hiccups subsided, apologizing for bothering him. the man who has yet to introduce himself groans, "obviously not. i don't see you having a good time either," 

"this isn't really my type of fun. not at all; i'd rather be at home but..." it's the alcohol, you're going to stupidly put all the blame on the drinks that you've had; on the way his eyes scanned your face; on the way your eyes watched his lips move; on the way his arm brushed against yours once you two decided to get the hell out of that shit-fest.

you thought this was only going to be a cute little encounter with a man who also hated crowds that rescued you and himself, and you were in no way expecting to be ending the night like this–

tipsy and naked, legs spread, back against the wall, nails digging into his smooth back, warm shower water trickling down your body; your breath fogging up the glass, panting with every snap of his hips against yours. 

it was a weird way for introductions to be made, but as you both neared your high, he whispers his name in your ear, "say it, call my name, scream,"

and you did. 

as you rode out your orgasm with him, the sensation of his name rolling out of your tongue felt more euphoric than what really led to you being unable to stand on your own, knees buckling soon as your feet touched the floor, that he has had to give you and himself a real and decent shower.

when you lay in his bed moments later, his back was turned to face you. no "good night" or "sweet dreams"– you realize you'd preferred it that way, to stick to the reality of what this was: a one night stand. and since it's like that, you guessed that this was the last time you'd be seeing or even be breathing the same air as this man. 

so even if he was merely breaths away from you, you knew what you shared with him just now wouldn't shorten the ten thousand miles between you. you knew it was wrong to be feeling this way for a stranger; even so, your clouded thoughts got the best of you.

and you reached out.

"kiyoomi,"

"what? can't sleep?" his voice was a low grumble, the sound muffled by the pillow he was hugging to his chest.

"it's y/n," meanwhile, your voice was barely audible, you were sure it was just another whisper in the wind. but for sakusa kiyoomi, it was louder than the moans and gasps you made that night. "though i don't think that's important," you drawled before succumbing to sleep.

the next day, you wake early and leave him, his bed, and the memories of last night without a word. just as how one night stands should be.

so for the next week, you were confused, angry, for feeling so desperate to see sakusa kiyoomi once again. if only you knew that this was how it was going to be, you would've left your number on a little note; or maybe do the things they would in movies, used your lipstick to write it on his bathroom mirror with hearts and your name in case he didn't hear it.

and your desperation has you coming back to that shit-hole of a party. if only to relive the memories of that one night. you knew the chances of seeing him there again were slim, absentmindedly twirling your glass of vodka in your hand while letting the alcohol slowly numb you.

only to see a familiar set of eyes, and half of a face obscured by a mask beside you. 

"thought this wasn't your fun?"

"i could say the same about you, didn't you hate it here?" you place the glass back on the counter, completely turning to sakusa, "wanna get out of here?"

he downed the shot you didn't take, before standing up to leave. 

you both hated having to go back to that club. but for some reason, the two of you just indulged in the prospect of meeting each other there, only to be in each other's heat, and for one of you to be left alone in the cold the morning after.

then it was the third, fourth, and soon it was the sixth-night-stand.

you did something you've never done before: that was, pressing your lips against his. there was a surge of boldness in you that you assumed was only from the alcohol, when you didn't know yet that it was already something more addictive and dangerous than that.

you thought the kiss would ruin everything that you had with him–whatever it was–but, it didn't. instead, sakusa kiyoomi responds with a bite to your lower lip, a chaste kiss, a teasing lick, before pulling away to rest his lips to nip at your neck.

for the rest of that night, his movements weren't so rough. from his lips came out your name and his praises, and with those same swollen lips he left behind a burning trail of butterfly kisses on every corner of your body covered by skin he could taste–all this replacing the usual grunts of approval or the loud smack of his palms against your ass.

this time, sakusa's bed wasn't cold nor empty. the first thing he saw as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning was you; cradled in his arms, hickey-filled chest steadily rising and falling with each breath. his calloused fingers brush against your cheek once, and it was too bad that you couldn't see the soft smile he has for you.

after the seventh night, you two began texting. the texting escalated to phone calls. the phone calls turned into meet-ups that you all but wanted to call a date but couldn't because you had no idea just what you were to him, and what he was to you.

"woah, you can do that? don't your wrists hurt?" your eyes widened, almost dropping the ice cream he bought for you after one of his practice games. 

"really, omiomi? that how ya flirt with such a pretty lady?" one of his teammates quips from behind you. sakusa glares at the blonde guy who you remember as their setter, and you decide to laugh it off. "don't worry, he doesn't have to do much to have me on my kne–"

sakusa slams a mask to your face to keep you from saying anything more. and then, once he knows the two of you were out of their earshot,  his arm wraps around your shoulder to pull you close to him, and he warns by your ear, "that filthy mouth of yours needs a little cleaning tonight,"

to his surprise, you smile up at him, which gives him a hard time concentrating on what you were saying, his quickening pulse echoing in his head making him unable to hear your voice. 

it was no longer the sex that you craved from him. it was no longer just sex for him. deep in your heart, you knew what you shared with sakusa–it was making love. and he knows this too. it was a feeling that to him was so familiar yet so distant. 

"kiyoomi,"

"y/n,"

"i... i think, i'm already in love with you,"

you were so blinded by the brightness of the emotions you knew you felt with and for him, that you failed to notice he never answered you back, nor did you see the fears and worries that he keeps hidden behind his mask.

after all that build-up, only for sakusa kiyoomi to drop you at the last second. as if nothing happened. as if you were nothing. the meet-ups stopped, your calls were declined, texts left on read. 

it's been a month since then, now you were in your bedroom on a friday night, refusing your friends' invites for yet another party downtown. this time, they tell you it was for you to forget. which was dumb, considering that place was where it all started.

"it" meaning... what? it's not even valid to call it a one night stand anymore. a friend with benefits? then again, did you even fit his description of a friend? or were you just another fuck buddy to him? someone he used as an outlet of his sexual frustrations and when he caught on to the feelings you shouldn't have and even you didn't even know why–

you wished forgetting sakusa kiyoomi was as easy as getting rid of the stains on your sheets.

but the tears and pain he's dirtied you with was a mark no bleach or detergent could ever erase.

little did you know, for the past month, sakusa kiyoomi was patiently waiting for you in that same old stool back in the bar, with three words he wished he'd told you sooner. 

[galactic-magick]

Distance: Patton x Reader

Request: Hii! Could i get a Patton x Reader with the prompts 14 and 35 in the beginning, then 8 towards the end please? I had this idea where its a human au and Patton and Reader met when they were young at summer camp. Patton feels homesick and Reader sees them and decided to comfort them. Years pass and they get jobs and stuff and because they didnt live near eachother they'd usually talk on the phone, but stopped. One day reader calls and says prompt 8 and Patton confesses his love on the phone. - @autumnfalls26​

Summary: Your childhood best friend you met at a summer camp crosses your mind again.

Words: 1400+                                        

Warnings: none I think? Touch of angst ig

Author’s Notes: Present day is in normal text and flashback to when you were kids is in italics. Idk why I got emotional writing this lol. Maybe cuz I’m a Patton kinnie.

Taglist: @luluwinchester​ @nerve-ous-love​ @zarieslayer​ @amayaisokay​

-                                

-

-

The door shuts, and you let out a long awaited breath.

It wasn’t any different than a normal day. You got up. You went to work. And now you’re home.

But every day it hurts more and more, the constant strain of being an adult and having to abandon your dreams for more “productive” activities. Your life feels empty, like something is missing.

You slump on the couch and glance at the shelf, pictures lined up in no particular order. Family and friends occupy the frames, and one of them has a group picture of the summer camp you went to when you were younger.

You hoist yourself up, walking over and grabbing the latter. Everyone’s smiling, sweaty and dirty, and you get a laugh out of your younger self’s chubby cheeks and toothy grin.

You look at the little boy next to you. Patton Sanders was his name.

Is, you correct yourself. He’s still around, even though you don’t talk anymore.

It’s not that anything happened. You just, grew apart. You connected so well as kids at that camp, becoming best friends basically on the first day. After it was over you talked on the phone almost every day throughout middle school, high school around once a week, but after that, the contact lessened. With college and jobs and whatnot, you simply stopped talking as much.

And now you can’t remember the last time you called him.

 “Are you okay?” you plopped down on the bench next to the boy you saw crying.

He sniffled, looking at you, “Yeah, I’m fine,”

“Hi fine, I’m Y/N!”

His tears stopped almost as if by command, and he stared at you.

Then he burst out laughing, “You like dad jokes too?”

“What do you mean? I’m not a dad,” you shook your head.

“Oh. Sorry. One of the big kids told me that’s what my jokes are called,”

“Did the big kids make you cry?” you cocked your head.

“No, I was just feeling sad,” another tear started to fall despite you lightening his mood.

“Why?”

“I miss home. I’ve never been away from home this long without my parents,”

You stood up firmly, your hands on your hips and staring right at him, “Will you quit raining on your own parade? We can do whatever we want here! No parents means no rules!”

“I guess so…”

“We can play on the playground as long as we want! We don’t have to eat vegetables! We can stay up late!” you didn’t mean to yell at him, you were just excited. “What’s your name anyway?”

“Patton,”

“Hi Patton,” you grabbed his arm and pulled him up. “C’mon, let’s go explore,”

“B-But what if we get lost? What if we get in trouble?”

“It’s okay, I’ll be holding your hand the entire time,”

And just like that, your hand slid into his, and he didn’t let go for dear life.

 The camp was only for a week, but you spent nearly every minute together. Patton felt safe with you, and you loved hanging out with him. You stuck by him during all the meals and group activities, and your free time too. Fortunately your cabins happened to be next to each other as well, and a couple of the nights you snuck out and just talked for hours on the swing set.

You’d never had a real best friend before, and neither had he. When your parents came to pick you up you immediately begged them to exchange numbers and emails so you could keep in touch. You houses weren’t extremely far apart, but still a couple cities away, a little over an hour’s drive. You thought you might be able to meet up once in a while, but not often.

 You set the picture back down, sighing. Childish memories usually make people happy, so why does this sting so much?

Is this what missing someone feels like? Really missing someone?

You pull out your phone from your pocket and bring up his contact.

You can’t imagine he’d want to hear from you. Why would he? What are you even supposed to say? “Hey man, long time no see”?

Incredibly underwhelming compared to what you want to say.

You want to tell him how much he meant to you all those years. How much it meant for him to talk to you every time you needed it. You told him everything, literally every single detail about your day. You laughed at each other’s dumb jokes. You cried over the phone multiple times, and so did he.

You helped each other with homework that neither of you could understand.

You tried to see each other in person at least once a year.

When you asked him to your school dance and he wasn’t able to make it, he made it up to you by sending you a package full of your favorite things and video calling you for hours.

When his pet dog died, you drove all the way to his house just to give him a hug, even though your parents didn’t like you taking the car without permission.

All you want is to know how he is. You want to know if he’s doing well, if life is treating him alright. Does he have a partner? He must, right? Is he still at the same job? Did he finish his degree?

You press the call button before you can convince yourself out of it.

He picks up surprisingly fast.

“Y/N?”

“Hey, Pat,” you smile at the sound of his voice. “Sorry about this, I’m sure you’re busy,”

“No! Not busy at all,”

“Oh,” you sit back down on the couch. “I know this might sound kind of stupid, but I was just thinking about you today, ya know, wishing we were kids again,”

There’s a silence.

“Pat? You there?”

“Y-yeah, sorry,” nervous laughter muffles his words. “I’ve just been thinking about you too. Coincidence, huh?”

“I just…I feel so bad that we barely talk anymore, ya know? Like you were my best friend for my entire life, how could I lose you like that?” you can’t believe you’re saying all this so freely, but it’s always been like that with him. It’s like you physically can’t hold anything back, even when he’s on the phone miles away.

“You never lost me,”

“What?”

“You never lost me, Y/N. I’ve always thought of you as my best friend no matter how much or little we’re talking. I’ll always wait for you,”

Your eyes water at that last comment. Although it sounded more like a promise.

“You know,” he continues. “While we’re on the subject, I should probably tell you something I should’ve told you a long time ago,”

“Mmhm?”

“Well, I kind of was in love with you, during all that time,”

“Really?”

“Yeah…And if I’m being honest, I think I still am,”

You clap your hand over your mouth and almost drop your phone.

I mean, it’s not like you’re dumb. You knew there was always something there between you, and it certainly wasn’t one sided. But it was something unspoken, something neither of you ever put words to.

And you assumed it faded away along with your friendship.

But after hearing him say that, everything comes flooding back. All the other memories, all the feelings.

At this point you’d just marry him on the spot.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

You clear your throat, “Yeah, I’m fine,”

“Hi fine, I’m Patton,”

You chuckle, and he laughs right along with you.

“Gosh I wish I could see you right now so I can say that back,” you sigh.

“Just a minute,” he says, abruptly ending the call.

You sit there staring at your empty screen, wondering what happened.

He doesn’t think he can literally get here in a minute, does he?

Knock. Knock.

You run to the door and open it, shocked to see Patton standing right there in front of you.

Before you can say anything, he pulls you into a tight hug.

“How did you get here so fast?” you mumble into his shoulder.

“I was thinking about you, so I wanted to see you and surprise you. I was already almost here when you called me,”

“Wow,” is all you can muster.

He lets you go, but only so he can bring his hands to the sides of your face. You look into his eyes, and there’s nothing but joy in them. No bitterness, no anger, just love.

“I love you too, by the way,” you smile, your cheeks squishing a bit against his palms.

He looks like he’s about to cry, but you’ll never know for sure.

Because his lips are on yours faster than you can ask if he’s okay again.

[the-rawr-ster]

Title: To Die In Your Arms

Chapter 1: Alone, We’re All Alone.

W/C: 1659

Warnings: Death, violence, mental health, and blood.

A/n: I am sorry if I make you cry with this. Also listen to the video to help like idk feel the mood ig.

Your mother had sent you out to retrieve the ingredients for her famous rolls. These ingredients are pretty hard to come by so she rarely makes them. But waiting a month to eat them is worth it, well for the customers. She usually sells out, so your family can never manage to get a batch for yourselves.

On your way back, you saw a young boy getting harassed. The kids had taken his bread. It was a whole month's worth of bread. You stood there watching as they scarfed it down. They didn’t leave a single crumb. How could someone do something so cruel? You wanted to say something, anything really. But you were too paralyzed. You just stood there and watched as this boy's meals were stolen from him. Coward. I’m a coward.

You hear feet hitting the ground at a fast past and loud, whiny, screaming. Suddenly, someone’s face was laying flat on the ground. You immediately rushed back to your mother.

Your mother was conversing with a middle-aged woman with brown hair. She greeted you with a warm smile and eyes kinder than any you had ever seen. You hid behind your mother, placing your chin in the crevice of her neck. You let out a tiny smile at the woman and then ducked your head behind your mother.

“I have a son just about your age,” she said, “He’s a little troubled, but all he needs are friends.”

“Oh, that’s perfect. My child is very shy and has a hard time making friends. But they’re very sweet,” your mother replied.

She spoke of you highly, as if you were an angel of sorts. She always made you feel special. She was special like that, she could make even the saddest of souls feel better. Your father on the other hand was too blunt for his own good. He always bad people’s best interest at heart but unlike your mother, he was bad with words. His words hurt, but he would never be able to understand that. Despite his cold demeanor, your mother still fell in love with him. She chipped away at that cold exterior until she could find his heart. She made it her life’s goal to prove that he had a heart, not just to other people but to him too.

“Well, I best be going. I’ll get back to you on what you said Mrs. (L/N).”

You watched as her stoic figure disappeared into the crowd of customers and merchants.

“Would you mind getting those to your father,” your mother pointed to the basket of ingredients still dangling from the crook of your elbow. You nodded and headed home as your mother closed up the stand. You had been walking around all day, so fortunately your house was just around the corner.

Before you could open the door, a loud BOOM filled the confinements of the walls. And soon smoke arose and screams could be heard for miles. You ran inside and yelled for your father, dropping the basket and not giving a rats ass about it.

“Dad, dad, I think something is happening,” you cried, fumbling up the stairs to pull your father out of bed, “Dad, get up.”

“Hm, sweetheart,” your father mumbled, “What’s going on?”

“Dad, please.”

You ran back down the stairs and carried a bucket of water dumping it on your father. He shot straight up, his eyes wide. You could hear the piercing screams and the booms from the footsteps of something monstrous. It was distant but loud.

“What was that? Where’s your mother,” he questioned.

“I don’t know, but we need to go. Mom was still at the stand when I came here to give you the ingredients for the rolls.”

“What?!”

Your father jumped out of bed and put on his shoes. He grabbed your arm and drug you out the door with him. His grip was tight leaving red marks on your arms. The streets were crowded with people running for their lives. Children were crying for their mothers and fathers. Parents frantically searching for their children. It’s was complete and utter chaos. Your heart beating irregularly. Thump! Thump! Thump! It was almost like it was right in front of you, not in your chest, in front of you. When you looked up. That’s when you saw it. An enormous, disgusting, monster, towering over your mother. It’s head was almost too large for its body, and it smelt like rotting flesh.

“M-mom,” you whispered, choked on your tears.

Your fathers eyes darted sporadically, his hands trembling, loosening their grip on your arm. Your mother stood like a statue, staring at the monstrosity of a beast. The beast lowers its arm and snatches your mother off the ground. Your father runs after her, struggling to keep his feet on the ground. No, this can’t be happening, can it? It’s just a nightmare. You’ll wake up any minute now. You’ll wake up to the smell of your mother and fathers baking. You’ll wake up to the sound of children running around in the streets. Now all you hear is the sound of ‘IT’ scarfing down your mothers limp body without any hesitation.

Your father grabs the closest sharp object to him and charges at it.

“Dad, no, please don’t,” you scream, but he doesn’t listen. All he sees is red. The sight of the only woman he ever loved being eaten, brought about a fit of blind rage.

“I love you, I’m sorry I never told you, y/n,” he gently smiled at you as tears built up. And those were the last words he ever spoke to you. The last words he spoke before his body was crushed.

While it was distracted with your father, you ran. You ran like your life depended on it because it did. You didn’t stop, you just kept going. Why? Why us? Why did this have to happen? We lived so peacefully. We did what we were supposed to. Why wasn’t it enough? And where were the garrison gaurds? Why weren’t they protecting us? That’s what you wanted to say, but you had to focus on making it to the boats. There weren’t a lot of spots, so you had to be fast.

...

The boat was crowded, but you made it just in time before it would leave. Everything was quiet. You could only hear the rushing of the water and the screaming in the distance as the boat rushed down the stream.

All of the thoughts and memories soon came rushing back to you. The sight of your mother and father. The beast. Your father’s last words. It all flooded your mind. There was no room left to think of anything else.

You curled up in a ball, your knees close to your chest, and your arms holding your head between them. You covered your ears, trying to silence the screams in your head...trying to silence the crunch of your parents body’s in it’s hands. You wanted to forget. You wanted to forget that you had nothing left. That everything, everyone you loved was gone.

You watched your tears fall onto the wooden panels beneath you. Drip. Drop. Drip. They wouldn’t stop coming. They wouldn’t obey your commands, they just fell, like they had given up.

“Hey,” a voice whispered.

“Its all in your head. Nobody is talking to you,” you told yourself.

“Hey.”

When you had fully convinced yourself that the voice wasn’t real, a soft, dainty, hand tapped on your shoulder.

“Stop it, leave me alone. Please, go away,” you sobbed, covering your ears and banging your head into your knees. Why? Why won’t it go away? I already lost everything. I don’t want to lose my mind. Your breathe became shallow and shaky.

“Armin, I think she just wants to be left alone,” another chided.

“Hey, breathe, you’re gonna make yourself pass out , and give yourself a concussion banging your head around like that.”

The person’s voice was soft and quiet, soothing, in a way. In pure curiosity you slowly lifted your aching head. You looked next you you and saw a frail, blonde boy sitting with a dark haired girl and a green-eyed boy. They all looked drained, but it’s no wonder. You all had been traumatized, and lost someone you cared about.

“Hi, my names Armin,” he said, “Are you h-,”

The girl shook here head and gestures for Armin to stop talking.

“No, I’m not here with anybody. I’m alone,” your voice trembling as you speak.

The trio looked in disbelief but also relieved. They weren’t the only ones to lose someone. You shifted your gaze to the floor. It wasn’t in my head. They were really gone. Its not a bad dream. It’s a reality. It’s my-, no OUR reality. A reality that sucked. No that’s an understatement. This was hell. A hell that I learned I could only get out of if I died.

Do I still want to save people? Can I save anyone? I don’t know. Will I run away like that again? I don’t know. All I know is that I’m alone.

“We’re all alone. Sure, we’re all in the same boat, both figuratively and literally. But we’re all alone. It’s not just me. Look at all the other kids on this boat,” you sighed, “ It’s not just me. So please don’t look at me like that.” Their eyes softened, except for the green-eyed boy. His eyes were filled with darkness. There was an intense, murderous aura about him...something different. Everyone else was scared, trying to survive. But he looked like he was ready to pounce on anything that moved. He eyes reminded you of your father’s in his last moments.

The light rain masked the tears falling down your face as you thought of him. You stared into the sky, searching for him...searching to know if there really was a paradise after leaving this hell.

Synopsis: You didn’t realize how in love you were with Jean Kirschtein until he decided to join the Survey Corp.

Taglist: n/a

Masterlist

Chapter 2

Playlist

[parkjmini]

history | pjm

➳ park jimin scenario 

you didn't come to see your friends, I know you came for me. I like your dress, but you fit better in my wrinkled tee. We moved on to newer things, but we got history

➳ word count: 2156

➳ genre: angst/fluff ig 

a/n: hey yall, ik ive been pretty MIA. im trying my best to find time to stay active. college rlly sux, but this is based off of the song, history by rich brian, it’s a really good ass song and it reminded me a lot of jimin. and i had this in my drafts ever since October so im glad i was able to finish it on my birthday and to release it as a birthday present for myself and everyone else that i finally released some content. 

+

You were more than an ex-girlfriend to Jimin. You were his whole world for a brief moment of his life. If anyone were to value you anything less, he would not hesitant to defend you. You and Jimin dated in sophomore year of high school, almost being destined as high school sweethearts, almost. 

Long distance had become strenuous for the both of you, mainly you. Jimin didn’t stray far from your hometown, but you had traveled miles away. It wasn’t until your second year of college when things were becoming clear that you two were not working out. 

Phone calls slowly became a hassle. You never really came back home for the holidays, so Jimin saw you a lot less. It was simply two separate lives and no matter how much Jimin wanted to stay together, the relationship had been taking a toll on you. 

Jimin was definitely more emotionally stable than you were. He didn’t have to move far from home for college, so his support system was still close. His best friends, Taehyung, Hoseok and Jungkook went to the same college as him. He didn’t need you as much as you needed him, physically. 

You were thousands of miles away from your family and friends. You went to the college of your dreams, but you had to start over. So being in an old relationship in the next chapter of your life was hard. You were meeting new people every week your first quarter in school, but every happy face felt fake. There was no familiarity and the loneliness ate you up by the end of your second quarter.

Seeing Jimin through your screen only made you miss him more. Hearing his voicemails made you cry harder. You’d always think you’d adjust, eventually, but you never did. And admitting all that pain to Jimin was the hardest thing you had to do. 

The breakup was not bad, but it also was not the best. You knew you couldn’t stay friends with Jimin, because you were still madly in love with this man and so was he. To move on, you had to avoid any contact with him and that didn’t sit well with him. He was too stubborn to move on. He kept telling you that he’d wait for when you’d come back for him. 

Those were not the words you wanted to hear. Jimin respected your decision to break up, but it was his own to decide whether or not to move on. Frankly, you thought he’d give up on you the moment the second quarter started. It was college, and you were never the one to hold him back from having fun and going to parties. The boys went to parties practically every weekend, some were for the sake of meeting new people to hook up with.

As much as his friends did those things, Jimin remained incredibly loyal to you. No other girl could compare to his girlfriend and if someone were to make a move on him, he’d stop it immediately. He’d text you when he got back to his dorm after every party, drunk or sober (most of the times, he was drunk). He didn’t hesitate to brag about his wonderful girlfriend to his entire hall. Jimin was all about you, it had always been like that for him. 

So it was no surprise when he reacted the way he did during the breakup. Jimin swore that he’d come back for you one day. You meant everything to him and he knew you like the back of his hand; he knew you better than yourself. You two had a history that no one else had.

+

Jimin was coming down for the long weekend with the boys for a close friend’s weekend long birthday extravaganza. It had been six months since you two last spoke, but the mention of your college caused his heart to shake. 

“I highly doubt we’d see her at the party. Namjoon told me that he has never bumped into (y/n).” Hoseok waved off Jimin’s nerves before Namjoon greeted the boys with open arms and a big grin.

“My favorites, I’m glad you were all able to make it down here for my big birthday bash.” He wrapped his arms around Jungkook’s broad shoulders and bumped at Jimin’s arm, “lighten up. You won’t see her here tonight.” 

“And what makes you so sure about that?” 

Namjoon shrugged nonchalantly, “you’ll be too drunk to register her face if she does show up.”

His statement earned several laughs from the boys, but Jimin could only roll his eyes. He really debated on simply going home and skipping this weekend trip because now, he was too close for comfort. He was on your territory and he wasn’t sure what to do if he saw you again. 

Six months was not enough time for Jimin to fully move on. He slept around with a few girls, but you were always in the back of his mind. Whenever he closed his eyes, your sweet smile would flash in the darkness. He would have reoccurring dreams about your shared memories. He’d hate to admit it, but he really missed you. 

But your words rang in his ears whenever he would selfishly indulged in your past, “I don’t want to see you for a very long time, Jimin. I just won’t be able to do it. I won’t be able to move on if we stayed friends.” He wanted to uphold your wishes because you still meant so much to him, it was the least he could do. 

Jimin entered Namjoon’s huge house, the scent of alcohol and weed filling his system and music traveling through his pulse. There were occasionally greetings from a few mutuals and smiles from pretty girls, but Jimin went through the house without much defeat.

Jungkook was lost in the crowd after passing by a group of girls. Namjoon was bombarded with hugs and birthday wishes. Jimin headed towards the standing bottles of alcohol, pouring himself a cup full of something dark. He sipped his drink, scanning the house as he leaned against the kitchen island. 

He finished his drink with impressive speed, not entirely aware of the rate he was consuming. The moment he turned around to pour himself another cup, a voice caused him to freeze. “Can you also pour me one?” 

He had thought the alcohol was tricking him into believing the voice belonged to you, but when he turned around... he knew it wasn’t the alcohol messing with him. “(y/n).”

You blinked back at his stunned figure, equally as shocked. He admired how good you looked. He had to stifle in a laugh at your revealing, black dress. It hung loose around your shoulders and wrapped around your middle --- the dress he bought you for your guys’ 2nd anniversary. 

He wasn’t sure what to believe at this point --- the fact that you’re actually standing in front of him after such an extensive time or the fact that you still wore the things he bought you. 

“What are you doing here?” Your voice was just above a whisper and your hand automatically went to twirl the necklace around your neck. It had a small pendant of the first letter of your name and your fingers instinctively went towards it whenever you got nervous. 

Jimin set down his drink, “I’m close friends with Namjoon.”

“No way. My friend has the same writing class as him.” You tried to act normal, like you didn’t bump into your ex-boyfriend at a party. He looked exactly like how you left him, maybe a bit more tired and gray. Oh how you missed his soft, plump lips or how strong his arms felt. 

As much as you wanted to forget about him, he always resurfaced in your mind at the strangest times. You could be studying and he’d pop up. You’d be clubbing with your friends and you’d think he was across the room. You still held onto him. 

“It was good seeing you again, (y/n).” Jimin said before he handed you a cup of your favorite mix. 

“Wait---” The words were flowing out of your mouth before you could catch them. “---Do you want to dance?” You couldn’t see him go anymore.

His eyes lit up and he smiled, something that always ran chills down your spine. “You want to dance with me?”

“Why not?” You smiled back and finished your cup before hitting the crowds of drunk, dancing people. You had gotten really close to Jimin, to the point where your chest was against his. 

You could tell he was holding back, like he was trying so hard to respect your space still. But you blinked back up at his sad eyes, and noticed they were filled with love and wonder. And almost every memory you two shared came crushing down, wrapping you in nostalgia. 

Grabbing his hands, you let them rest on your waist and his eyes widen at your bold action. Maybe it was the alcohol doing all the work, but you really wish he’d stop holding back. You always remembered Jimin to have huge restraint and patient. He was strong willed --- stubborn --- and was reserved. But once his boundaries were gone, he was something amazing. 

“Why are you holding back, Jimin?” You asked before you could process the question. An evident pout appeared on your face and his hands dropped from your body.

“I can’t, (Y/N). I refuse to give you all of me just for you to hurt me again.” He whispered and walked off the dance floor. That was one of the biggest blows you’ve ever felt. You hurried on after him, trying to find a needle in a hay stack. 

It was difficult, everyone blended with one another and you weren’t fully sober to play Where’s Jimin. You spotted a frantic Jungkook being mauled by girls left and right, so you hurried toward the crowd. You grabbed Jungkook by his collar and dragged him out of the sea of desperate girls. 

You two stood outside of the house and Jungkook took several deep breaths before thanking you for saving him, “now, what do you want?” 

“Where did Jimin go?” 

“Why do you care where he went?” He said leaning against the stature of the overflowing building. The stern look on his face caused much intimidation and it was as if he had forgotten all the great memories you two had shared as friends. 

Sighing, you racked your brain for any reasonable explanation besides that you want to see him. It was selfish of you to not consider how Jimin still felt about you, but you had been restraining yourself from viewing his social medias and even thinking about him at night. It was as if something went off when you did see him, you simply wanted more. 

“Because I want to apologize to him for what had just happened. Please.” You were on the verge of tears and Jungkook rolled his eyes. 

“Follow me.” He grumbled and started walking up the stairs to the second floor. He walked past several doors in the hallway before reaching the end. He knocked a specific pattern and the door cracked open slightly. Jungkook gestured for you to enter and whispered, “don’t hurt him anymore. That is all I ask of you.” Jungkook walked away as you entered the big room. 

Jimin sat on the edge of the neatly made bed, back facing you. “Whatever it is, Kook, I don’t want to hear it right now.” His voice was hoarse and raspy.

“Jimin, I’m sorry for pushing you out there like that.” 

His body turned stiff, like a thief caught in a crime. He cleared his throat, “it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine. I was never considerate to how you felt, and I want to change that.” The bed shifted with you weight pulling the mattress. Jimin’s warmth surround your left side and it hurt for you to remember how safe you felt in it. 

He was hesitant to reach for your hand, but you grabbed his to reassure him. “I’m still so in love with you.” He admitted. His thumb ran across your knuckles. “Every time I see you, I feel nostalgic. There is no one in the whole world that knows me like you do and that means something. You will always mean something to me.”

And you blinked at him with words unspoken. Your heart was shaking in the palms of his hands. A part inside of you felt okay with that, like if were to let anyone ruin your life, it would be him. 

Jimin picked up your chin. Looking into his glossy, red eyes, he read every bit of you and searched for the one sign he needed. Then he saw it, the familiar small twinkle in your eyes, and he knew exactly how you felt. 

[judgement-free-sideblog]

Salt and vinegar

First of all, thanks to everyone who read my first attempt at the first person writing, I always struggled with that.

I must say I didn't plan to write a second part to Cakes and accidents because I am a sucker for one shots with open endings, but I actually had a clear idea in my head about how it should continue, and I found a spark of inspiration so here is the part II.

And thanks to @tholland96 @jillanaholland for commenting.

Also part of the inspiration came from this interview in case you want to check it out.

Tom Holland x reader

One shot

Warnings: Fluff, cursing, poor table manners.

The message was bright and clear in your cellphone screen, but still you had to look at ti three more times to make sure what it says, and once the idea had sink in your head you tossed the device away in the laundry basket you were supposed to do that night as if it had somehow offended you. That wasn't real, it was a cruel joke of destiny that Tom Holland, actually Stanley, said the voice in your head, invited you to have dinner with him.

And of course you didn't want to read much into it, you have been talking in an amicable way for the last three days and he was probably trying to be friendly with you. But if you had to sit next to that charming smile and those breathtaking eyes that make you smile like an idiot just by thinking about them, for more than 20 minutes you will end up making an awkward mess of yourself and he would probably feel uncomfortable and would run away scared.

You pick up the phone and ignore the text to call your sister, she may be younger but the list of broken hearts in her past made her the perfect person to give advice, and since it was almost 8 at night she may be free in her new home all those mile away.

"Well he clearly enjoys your company" The voice of your sister told you in the phone after you briefly summarize how you meet him "Y/N why are you doing this? This Holland guy is clearly interested in you, what the hell if he said is name is Stanley or Lucas or Wenceslaus" She made a pause to let you laugh, she always did that, even when she was angry, making jokes was a second nature for Y/S/N "If anything it only means he wants to have a more normal discret experience as a young adult, and trust me it that is hard to find, you should see the blokes out here, they feel like just because they have a couple thousands followers in IG I should be kissing the floor they walk on"

"I suppose you are right, but I haven't done this in so long what if I mess it up?" You said with a voice a little more desperate than you hoped for.

"Then at least you have had dinner with a handsome lad, and you will move on. Look you are not sure if this is a date right? Then take it that way just two friends eating, a normal conversation, maybe a beer and please big sister put on a bloody dress" she said before you start lecturing her on how little you cared for gender specific clothes and she talked some more about her new school. By the time you hung up it was 9:00 and you sent the answer to his text.

Sorry, busy doing laundry. Sure mate! 6 works for you?

"Oh Y/N why did you say mate?" You asked yourself outloud, you really were bad at this.

And here I am, being useless. You are such an adult. 6 works perfect, I'll pick you. Sweet dreams mate! 😉

His text came in within minutes and you let go a relief sigh, before start thinking about what you should wear, but Y/S/N was right, you had to take it as calm as you could, and he was in fact a charming friend, worst case scenario you still were going to have dinner with Tom Holland, that couldn't be bad, and with that in mind you finally went downstairs to do the bloody laundry.

"Looking good Bristol" he said once you open the door at exactly 6:00 pm the next day. "Good thing Tessa is not coming today, will be a shame to get grass and dirt on that dress" he add pointing down to the skirt of the flowy summer dress you finally picked, looking at you for one second to long. So maybe it is a date your mind said happy.

"Oh that's too bad, I actually got her something" You said picking out something from your purse "So she won't be out there chasing innocent british pastries" You said giving him a chocolate cake plush toy. And following him out to his car.

"This is adorable" He said again smiling with his whole body, and you wonder again how does he do that? "Sorry I forgot to tell you to don't posh up, I'm actually just coming out of the gym" Actually never mind. Your mind told you since he was wearing again a simple black tshirt and dark blue jeans, and then you could notice his hair was wet, he probably had just taken a shower ... don't go there. "And I'm actually starving, chips sound good?"

"Sure, I actually didn't like the ones in Bristol so it would be nice to eat them here." Yo said trying to shake your thoughts away from the danger zone and putting on the seatbelt "Isn't it late for being at the gym? I hope you are not an excercise addict"

"I don't think I am" he said with a little laugh "But what do you think is this too much" He said with an obvious pretend innocence flexing up his arms making the tshirt rise on his abs. That's obscene sir, sorry girl you are on your own. Said your inner voice shutting down all logical thinking

"No, you look quite... healthy" You said finally looking to the left, never finding a review mirror so interesting.

"Good I would hate to be too big" he said and you could hear the amusement in his voice, and somehow the fact that he was aware of your obvious crush on him make you confident enough to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

"Obviously, period pieces never look good on beefcakes and you can't be spiderman forever" you said casually and he turn at you a bit astonished.

"When did you knew?" He said and thankfully his tone was not anger nor embarrassment just genuine curiosity "And I would love to do a period piece, what about Heathcliff ?"

"Well I don't believe there is many Staffordshire bull terriers around named Tessa" You started "But I actually recognized you when I saw you" You finally confess, feeling the pressure lifting off your shoulders "But I thought since you were not comfortable giving out your own name it wasn't my place to say anything. And Heathcliff is overrated Linton on the other hand is more of a challenge"

"Oh don't be so harsh on yourself, I didn't mind giving my name or not, it just seemed something funny to do at the time, and Tom or Stanley I actually enjoyed talking to you" He said while he found a place to park. "Do you mind walking from here? Is a nice place but doesn't have and actual car park".

"Not at all, as long is not more than 5 blocks, I am getting hungry" you said with a smile while he maneuver to park his Audi.

"O'Neill's Kingston upon Thames" He said once you were both on the ground and he once again offered you his arm "Have you ever been there? Great food"

"I actually never been there, but sounds fine, let's go" you said gladly taking his arm and walking by his side and a couple blocks later you were finally at the Irish Pub.

"A pint of Guinness and cod and chips" He said returning the menu to the waiter.

"And the lady?" He asked while you struggle to not take forever to decide what you wanted, an old bad habit that your mother have tried to change constantly.

"The Bacon cheese chips and a pint for me as well" you said finally putting the menu away.

"My kind of girl" He said and winked at you, clearly not realizing that your legs will stop working because of it "So when do you go back to bristol?" He asked and that honest interest encouraged you to speak.

"By mid September, my mother is actually about to toss my train ticket in the trash since I didn't came back for spring vacations, but I had so much work that I couldn't."

"I totally get it, whenever I'm away my dad makes such a big deal about it" he said letting go a little laugh "I mean is not the same since I didn't go to college but is sweet"

"Oh but you cross the Atlantic, they have reasons to be worried. I'm just one train away" you said and a small spark of pride shine in his eyes, was he self conscious about you being in college? No that was ridiculous. "Anyway I actually needed this, my friends from uni are in their houses and my friends from high school are too happy with their boyfriends and girlfriends to hang out with me." There I'm a loser now we are even.

"And your sister is gone, been there. I have the feeling Harry is going to break up with me when he gets a real girlfriend" he said and make you laugh, a bit louder and more nasal than you wanted.

"That's some laugh" he said laughing too but instead of making you shut up or get embarrassed you laughed louder causing the waiter to look at both of you like you were crazy while holding your food.

"Yours is no better sunshine" Yo said finally and giving a I'm so sorry look at the guy that kept looking at you and he finally put your food on the table. "This looks delicious" You said taking out one of the chips making a cheese string to extend from the hot plate.

"That's like too much cheese" He said making a funny disgusted face, and then proceeded to add more vinegar and salt to his chips.

"And that's like too much vinegar" You teased back at him, and then taking a big sip of the Guinness.

"No darling, this is too much vinegar" He said taking one of the complementary pickled eggs on de table and giving it a big bite.

"That's actually fucking disgusting..." you started but ironically and unplanned you were betrayed mid sentence by the beer and a loud and horrifying burp came out of your mouth, and the shame and the look on other people faces made you want to be swollen by the floor "Oh shit, I'm so sorry, that was so awful, I'm so gross..." The apologies start bubbling in your mouth while your face turned red and you dare to look at him, and the serious look on his face could have broken your heart in the very moment because you could almost hearing him say how you should end the dinner for once.

"Oh you wanna get tough" He said instead and took a sip of his beer and let go an even bigger burp and then looked at you with the brightest smile yet and add "Beat that baby" and he raised his opened arms as if he had won. You only smiled and nodded and you kept talking about other nonsenses until two beers and a order of onion rings later he was waiting at the door for you to came out of the bathroom to walk back to his car.

"Sorry I take forever, I went back to give a bigger tip to the waiter, we were so awful" You said at him.

"You were awful, I was being completely charming" He said and this time he didn't offer his arm to you instead simply took your hand without saying a word and before you noticed you were already walking holding it tightly.

"Of course you were, the guy put two more picked eggs at the table for you and kept looking drooling" You said and he laughed.

"Sorry sweetheart I can't turn off this pretty face" He said pointing at him when you reached the car, you couldn't agree more.

"Well he must be in love, that's a lot of vinegar to want to kiss someone" You said, again before you could think better and stop your tongue, he stood still and you questioned yourself if you had offended him, since he didn't say anything you let go of his hand and try to walk to open the door, but before you could do it he grab you by the wrist, and you froze immediately.

"That's actually quite disappointing you know?" He started no smile, but no anger either, just an honest tone, he let go of your wrist but you remained in your place "But I have never think it's okay to try and kiss someone in the first date so I figured it would be okay"

Your feet were still on the ground but for a moment your head was miles and miles away in the sky screaming of happiness and incredulity, it was a simple four letter word yet it felt like the most beautiful poem in his lips, and at the same time your logical thinking brought you back to the ground in a millisecond, you needed to be certain of what he had said.

"Well I was not aware this was a date, otherwise I wouldn't have ordered the extra onion rings" you said and give him a timid smile.

"Then I must be terrible at this" he said opening the car door for you "Although I wouldn't mind, but as I said it's a first date so I just want to take you home safely.

"Well that's really sweet of you" you started and he start the car to get back to your home "And since apparently I'm incapable of behaving like a decent person in public when I'm with you next time you should come to my place".

"I like your indecency" He said "And I would love too, are you going to tell me that you can cook too? Because in that case you are officially annoyingly adult"

"Of course, my speciality is reheated pizza in the microwave" You said and he laughed, there was a narcissistic pleasure about being able to make him laugh.

As a perfect gentleman he walked you at your door, there was so much that you wanted to tell him, but the idea of going out with him again soon was so powerful that you almost didn't mind watching him leave.

"That was the funniest and more amazing date I ever have"

"Oh stop it" You said blushing again "I'm going to start believing you and it would get to my head"

"Believe me, I almost run to the drugstore to buy a toothbrush" He said and give you a devilish wink that make you thank your door for being behind you holding you still.

"You know how unfair this is when you look like that?" You said desperately looking at your feet "And for what is worth I have an amazing evening too, and if I'm honest I wouldn't have mind at all too" You said and dare to touch his arm softly before turning your back at him to get inside.

He suddenly grabbed you by your waist and turned back to him, planting a quick soft kiss on your cheek, and you could see the fun grin on his face, he was not being considered he was torturing you with anticipation, and you love it.

"Goodbye then" He said and with one last wink he walk away and got in his car.

You stood ther for solid five minutes touching your face where he had just kissed you and watching the street, then you finally get inside thinking about how happy and uneasy this force of nature of a man made you feel, he would be the end of you, but you wouldn't change it for the world.

[dreamin-of-somewhere-else]

I Thought You Were Gone

Characters: Sam + Dean Winchester x sister!reader. Also, two others that I don’t want to reveal yet, but they’re from the episode 5x16

Words: 3300 (I could have made it into two parts, but I didn’t really know where to part it so, yeah.)

[Angst, Sadness, Character Deaths, Blood, Comfort]

Tags: @evyiione, @daughters-and-winsisters, @samanddeanshotsis, @fabulouslycassie, @darkestgrungeuniverse, @delessapeace-blog, @mariairwin666, @1amluke

A/N: This is a bit spontaneous, as I didn’t finish the fic I wanted to post. I found this one instead though, but sorry if there’s any undetected errors :)

Also, this takes place in season 5.

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You sighed and leaned back against the headboard of the motel bed. It was quiet except for the mumbling of the random show on the TV. You weren’t even watching, you just put it on to break the silence, as you weren’t really used to it. The other day, Dean won some extra cash by hustling pool, and you all decided to splurge it on a second motel room, since well, it gets kind of crowded when you’re three and share one room. You had expected Dean to take the room by himself and leave you and Sam to share, not that you would question it, it was his money. But, he didn’t. Instead, to your surprise, he decided to be generous and gave you the room.

Even though it was a lot more spacious and not as warm, you still felt a bit odd being alone. Although, you appreciated the act. You really did, it was sweet of him.

Soon, you lied down on top of the bed, not even bothering to take off your clothes. You were quite exhausted from today’s, well yesterday’s — since it was past midnight — salt and burn. And that was probably the only reason you were able to sleep in that empty motel room.

You jolted awake by the loud sound. It took you a split second to place it, your heart hammering against your ribs. Gunshot. It was a gunshot. You flew off your bed onto your feet, confused. The noise was so loud you could have sworn it was in your room, but no, you were still alone. You were practically trembling because of the adrenaline pumping through your system. You were confused about the empty room, until you remembered why. But then, you were confused where the sound had come from until your realized that it must’ve come from the room next door. And who camped out there? Your brothers.

With your heart in your throat you began searching for your gun, and where in hell did you put it? It took you about 10 seconds to find it in your disarranged room — shamefully slow. In any other situation it would have passed fast, but right now, those ten seconds equaled an eternity. Once you found the gun, you gripped it tight, and violently yet fumblingly unlocked the door. But, while you fumbled a second gunshot rung out, and a sinking feeling emerged in your stomach, and for a second you thought that your knees would give in.

Once outside though, you were met by the sight of two men escaping the open door of Sam and Dean’s motel room. You instantly thought this was a bad sign, and those two meant trouble. And if you were smart, you shouldn’t let them get away. But, you couldn’t bring yourself to try and stop them. Instead, you were focused on even succeeding in carrying yourself towards their room, while your mind started to realize what might awaited you. You felt as you were going to fall over right there and then.

But somehow you managed to reach it, even though it felt like it was miles upon miles away. You grabbed ahold of the doorway for support and glanced inside.

You didn’t even have time to comprehend the sight before you instantly felt nauseous, and forced yourself to do a full 180 to not hurl all over the motel floor. You simply couldn’t take what your eyes were met with.

Blood. Blood, everywhere. Red splatter on the walls, ceiling, floor, the interior, not to mention the covers of the bed. And your brothers. They were soaked. All you saw was red, and then you had to turn around.

When you finally could straighten up again, you staggered into the room again. You instantly fell to your knees, letting out a sound you didn’t even know you could make. It didn’t sound like you, not even human.

Your brothers are not only soaked in crimson, they’re also ripped from the multiple bullet that had pierced them. It wasn’t an ordinary gun, it was a shotgun. A freaking shotgun.

You found yourself by Sam’s bed, the one closest to the door. He was completely lifeless. Your eyes were round and just rested on him, taking in the horrific sight. You didn’t want to see — but you couldn’t take your eyes away. It was too late anyway, this would forever be imprinted in your mind.

”Sammy…” You whimpered as you brushed a hand along his cheek. Tears were streaming down your own cheeks, and your face was morphed in pure pain.

If you need us, (Y/N), we’ll be right next door, okay? We’ll see you tomorrow, and then we’ll get out of this dump.

Minutes later you were clutching Dean’s flannel in your fists, as you sobbed. Your heart was aching in a way that you never had experienced before. Right now, you didn’t even feel as you would survive.

You didn’t know what to do. You were truly alone now.

Dean bent down and stared inside his dear car. ”Cas?”

”Yeah it’s me.” The radio responded, which was weird, but the most disturbing part to Dean was the fact that he didn’t even question it.

Dean frowned as he opened the car door and sat down in the leather car seat. ”Dude, you gotta stop poking around in my dreams. I need some me-time.”

”Listen very closely. This isn’t a dream.”

”Then what is it?” Dean queried, confused.

”Deep down you already know.” The angel’s rough voice spoke through the radio.

Memories flashed in front of Dean’s eyes. A shotgun. ”I’m dead?”

”Condolences.”

”Where am I?” Dean started feeling how panic got the better of him. He was dead.

”Heaven.” Castiel answered.

”Heaven?” The hunter didn’t believe it. But then something else crossed his mind. ”Where’s Sam?”

”Where are you?”

”I’m in my car… Cas what do you—”

”Follow the road and you will find Sam.” Castiel interrupted.

”Okay…” Dean paused. ”Where’s (Y/N)?” He clearly remembered his little brother getting shot, but he didn’t know what happened to you. He felt how the anxiousness got a better hold of him.

”She’s alive.”

Dean let out a breath in relief. At least one Winchester was left standing. The relief didn’t last long though. ”Okay, Cas, listen to me now. You gotta make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid, okay?”

The radio let out a crackling sound. ”Dean—” The connection broke and the radio went dead.

You gripped the wheel so tightly that your knuckles whitened. Your pulse was still high, but for the most part you had calmed down a bit. You didn’t cry anymore, because you were out of tears. It still hurt like crazy, but instead of a piercing pain, it had transformed into an almost numbing pain, one that clouded your judgement like nothing else.

You didn’t know what to do. You had already tried selling your soul. It didn’t exactly go as you wanted.

Foolish girl, what makes you think that we would want to make a deal with you?

But, you had already expected it to not go your way. It had been hard for you to believe from the beginning that any crossroad demon would want to deal with one of those holding Sam back — apart from himself — from saying yes to Lucifer. You were working against hell, and that proved to be fatal. Also, most demons probably didn’t want to resurrect the Righteous Man, vessel of Michael, who wanted to kill Lucifer. It was too long of a shot.

You glanced at yourself through the rearview mirror, and it was a haunting sight. Even you, through the haze of emotional pain, could see the difference in your own features. Your eyes were cold, your expression set in stone and showing little signs of the raging fire of feelings within you. It was pain, sorrow, distress, confusion, heartache. The sadness had also given away to a new emotion, fury.

You didn’t know how to bring your brothers back in the moment. A thought travelled to their bodies locked inside the motel room. You didn’t know what to do with them either. But you did know one thing you could do. Avenge your brothers.

Instead of the wheel, your hands now gripped the handle of the gun tightly as if someone would try and yank it out of your hands. You were lurking in the shadows, preparing yourself to strike. You didn’t know how you ended up outside the cottage where the two men that killed your brothers were staying, it was all kind of a blur. Your head was spinning and your heart was throbbing. Adrenaline was pulsating through your body, and all that anger? You had directed it all into your hunting. You were now more focused than ever. If you only had been this focused when your brothers needed you, and they wouldn’t be dead.

It had been a couple of hours since your brothers had been shot. It felt like an eternity, lifetimes ago. Everything was different now, you were staring into the world alone. At least until you found a way to bring them back, if that ever happened. You doubted that it would, but you tried to be optimistic, channeling your inner Sam. Sam, your heart broke by just the thought of the name. But, it also motivated you to keep going, intensifying the will for payback.

You drew a deep breath, trying to slow your heart beats, you wouldn’t perform well if you were too jittery. Although, you also knew that you didn’t perform the best if you were completely relaxed either. You wanted to be in the middle of the spectrum - on edge.

Then, you quietly walked closer to the window, bringing out the knife you kept in your boot. Just by inching closer to the window, you felt the warmth radiating from within the outer wall. It was dimly lit inside, a contrast to the cold, lilac dawn you were experiencing on the outside. You also heard mumbling, similar to the mumbling you heard the night before, coming from the TV. The fact that they had the TV on, was much to your benefit. You still tried to be quiet though. It was all about the element of surprise on your part, since they were two and you were only one. Since you were missing two.

You knew who the men were by now. Named Roy and Walt, two hunters. The worst part was that the name Roy rung a bell; Dean had once worked a case together with him.

The window gave away a slight clicking noise when you succeeded in unlocking it. You carefully opened it, and it creaked a little bit. Fortunately, they didn’t seem to notice it. They weren’t the best hunters.

You clutched the gun and climbed through.

Once inside, you had to go all in, no time for stalling. So, you stormed inside the small living room, where the two hunters were seated on a bed each. They didn’t see it coming. You quickly scanned off the room, and positioned yourself between them and the stack of their weapons with your own gun raised so that they couldn’t get ahold of one.

”You,” Roy uttered, his eyes round and filled with pure fear as he stared at you. ”I knew that they had a sister.” He then added, whispering.

Walt looked at his partner with an unreadable expression, knowing that he should have listened to Roy.

”You killed my brothers.” You spat through gritted teeth. To your displeasure, you felt how the stone cold anger started to morph back into distress. You were losing grip, but you didn’t know what to do about it.

”We did, kid.” Walt retorted, a sickening smirk making its way onto his disgusting face. ”You don’t let out the damn devil and go unpunished.”

His words made something flare up inside you, and without thinking, you pulled the trigger. The bullet buried itself in his leg, partly because of you not really wanting to kill him, at least not right now, and partly since the distress had started to mess with your focus — you couldn’t aim properly. But, Walt should be lucky you didn’t shoot him in the chest or something.

He didn’t seem to feel that way though, because he let out a scream as if he had been fatally shot. You watched his pain with a spark of satisfaction. Not a lot, but it was there.

But, here your success took a turn for the worse. Because Roy took the moment to charge at you, with a knife. He had probably kept it hidden in the mattress. You quickly direct the gun at him, and shoot him in the thigh, once again not bringing yourself to shoot him in the chest or head. Why couldn’t you be a ruthless killer when you wanted to? They were.

The shot didn’t slow him down much, and you barely had the time to glance at Walt, to see him charging too, before Roy reached you.

A fight began. You fired another shot, that missed, and then one of them smacked the gun out of your hand. It clonked away over the floor. You resorted to punching, kicking, smacking and clawing. You fought with everything. But they were one more than you, because you were missing two, and it was their fault.

Things went downhill pretty fast. Soon you found yourself blinking away the flecks of light and darkness from your vision, lying in the floor with the air knocked out of your lungs. Then came the kick and the punches, and everything just kind of melted together into an episode of pain. You were probably not going to survive, you started to prepare yourself for the bitter outcome of your failed revenge. But, you didn’t want to live without your brothers, and you had no idea how to bring them back, so…

Dean glanced over at Sam, to make sure he was ready before creeping closer to the front door. Shame was still written over his little brother’s face, he felt guilty for his memories in heaven. Dean still felt betrayed, but he had pushed it away. He could drown himself in that later, but right now, you, his little sister, were in danger. Sam caught Dean’s gaze and nodded slowly to show that he was in fact ready.

As they reached the door, they could hear the punches and hits from the inside, and Dean cringed while he could feel the little hairs in his neck standing up. Sam felt nauseous, like his heart was in his throat.

1, 2… 3.

Dean mouthed to his younger brother before he launched himself at the door, kicking it in. It flew open to reveal a scene that made them both want to hurl. 

You were lying on the floor, broken and bloody. Your face was swollen, and starting to bruise, while blood seeped out of your nose and mouth. Your hair was spread around your head, some streaks darkened by the red. You were unconscious.

Walt was hovering above you, it was clearly him who delivered the hits. He was also the one who shot both Sam and Dean. Roy was intently watching, arms crossed over his chest with an unbothered expression.

Dean didn’t hesitate when he shot Roy in the leg, not the one he was already bleeding from judging by the stain on his jeans, the other. It was enough to send him to the floor with a yelp.

Sam stopped and aimed carefully, making sure to have a good enough marginal between you and Walt before he fired a bullet. It hit Walt in the abdomen, and he screamed and fell to his knees, his gaze accusingly finding Sam as he went down.

Then both of your brothers set off towards you, pushing away Walt as they reached you. ”(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” Dean tried to get through to you, his voice breaking and desperate. ”Hey, hey! Come on, wake up!”

Sam shook your shoulders, as he prayed that you would open your bright eyes. Every second that went by with you being unresponsive was pure torture.

”(Y/N), please.” Dean begged, his voice sounding more and more as if he was about to cry. ”P-please.” He murmured.

”Come on,” Sam whispered, as he ran a hand over your head and hair.

And then, was that a twitch? To your brothers’ immense relief you let out a groan, as your eyebrows drew together in a pained frown. You didn’t want to wake up, you just wanted it to be over.

But, you opened your eyes and stared up into a pair of hazel and a pair of green ones.

Sam and Dean stared down into the most pain filled eyes they’ve ever seen on you, heck, on anybody. They were so hauntingly tired and distressed that tears spilled over in Dean’s eyes, and soon in Sam’s too. It took a couple of seconds, but then they started shifting into something else but pain and sadness — relief.

”Dean?” You tried asking, your voice coming out weak and raspy as your throat hurt. ”Sammy?” You added as you spotted your other brother.

You weren’t sure if what you were seeing was real. Were you brothers alive — and how in hell did that happen, if that was the case — or were you the one that was dead, and you were either hallucinating or actually reunited with your brothers?

”Am I in heaven?” Your voice only a wheeze.

”No, (Y/N)”, Sam whimpered in response, his eyes staring burning even more as he saw your eyes filling with tears.

”You are alive. We are alive, (Y/N).” Dean told you with a gentle but broken voice. ”Alive and well, don’t worry.”

”Oh my—” You began in relief, but was cut of by a piercing pain from your side. Probably cracked ribs.

The pain had crept onto you and was now in full bloom. You groaned, as you started feeling like you would go out cold again. You blinked as your vision got worse, trying to get the images of your worried brothers in focus.

”How did you find me?” You panted. ”How are you alive?”

”Cas.” Sam responded. ”And the rest is a long story. We’ll tell you later, okay?”

Nodding, you then briefly let your gaze travel across the room from where you were lying on your back, and saw two men crawling across the floor, leaving behind a glistening trail of red. And then you remembered, Roy and Walt. You had completely forgotten about them once you saw Sam and Dean, every fixation on killing them had been gone with the wind.

Now, however, you tried alerting your brothers but your words came out slurring, beyond comprehension. So, you tried pointing, but pain shot out through your arm as you tried moving it.

”Don’t mind them, (Y/N).” Dean said, putting on a calm voice for your sake, when in reality, he was about to freak out about the extent of your injuries.

You whimpered in pain, and Sam’s hazel eyes flashed in sympathy.

”We’re going to have to get you out to the car, okay?” Dean spoke, same steady voice.

You nodded, not trusting your voice.

”Don’t worry, (Y/N). Shh… We’re here now. You’re going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.”

You felt yourself slipping into darkness once again, Dean’s voice fading simultaneously. At least this time, you had a little bit of hope. There was something to wake up to. Your brothers were okay. Alive. It was all you wished for. And that brought you piece of mind as you drifted into unconsciousness.