#although maybe only doing in 1 day a week is a part of the reason

[fereldanwench]

so i only do one office day a week now, which is still one more than i would ideally like, but it's fine. whatever

but it astounds me that pre-pandemic, i used to go into the office, do the 6:30ish AM to 5:30ish PM schedule 4 days, sometimes 5 days a week, and still do things in the afternoons

and like, high-energy, social things. i used to work out 3x a week immediately after work. i used to fuckin stream on twitch 2x a week right after work, for like 2-3 hours at a time

there is no way in hell i could do that these days--I'm sooooo beat down after being in the office and dealing with commuting and coworkers and harsh lighting

i just wanna get in bed with my cats and rewatch a show I've seen a million times and pass out

[mallowsweetmiri]

Potter!Reader x Remus

Summary: after weeks of having a painful crush on your brothers best friend, you make a plan to seduce him.

Warnings: smutty and slutty

Word count: 6k

—————————————————————————

You groaned into your pillow, wiping the sweat from your forehead into the cotton fabric. This was the second time this week you'd woken up sweating from a dream about Remus Lupin, and it troubled you deeply that the scenarios you imagined would never happen. For one, your brother would instantly shut you down if you even suggested going out with any boy, let alone his best mate. The more unfortunate part was that you were almost certain Remus saw you as nothing more than James' little sister, a title you were tired of carrying. You huffed again as you rose to start getting ready. How much longer could this crush go on? It had started on the train in September. You remember thinking to yourself that Remus had become quite good looking over the summer and left it at that. But soon, he started to catch your eyes in the hallways, then in the common room, until finally he had managed his way into your head. You were constantly thinking about him. Thinking about the glimpses of his chest you'd caught one time when his shirt was unbuttoned, thinking about the way his adam's apple moved in his throat, thinking about his hands...

You shook your head and stepped into the shower. If only you could know what he felt like, then maybe this incessant urge to be with him would go away. You felt the water fall down your back as you washed yourself up. You were a pretty girl, you knew this. If you were someone else, had a different last name, maybe you'd have a chance. Although, you'd never really tried before. You kept these thoughts to yourself, having nobody to talk to them about. Normally you would tell James everything, and he would usually play parent when it came to your school girl crushes. But you couldn't exactly go up to James and say, "Hey, do you think you could set me up with Remus? Y'know, your best mate? I really want to see what he looks like with his clothes off." No, you couldn't do that. But perhaps you wouldn't have to...

You stepped out of the shower feeling confident in your plan. You had spent all this time pining in silence over Remus, it was time for action. While you got ready, you made subtle changes. You hiked your skirt up just a little and slipped into the button down that was just a touch too small. When you did your makeup, you were sure to make your lips look extra lush and rosy. You put on your favorite perfume, the one you saved for special occasions. This seemed as good a day as any.

"There she is," James smiled and stood as you came down the stairs to the common room.

"Good morning, Jamie," you chimed, "were you waiting on me?" James laughed as he grabbed his bag off the floor, the two of you heading through to the portrait hole.

"I'm always waiting for you," James nudged you with his shoulder. "You look nice today." You raised your brow at him, his statement more of a question as if to ask "Is there a reason you're making an effort?"

"Thanks," was all you replied as you made your way to breakfast.

PHASE 1: Hook

When you got there, the other marauders were already sat down. Sirius was talking animatedly with Peter as Remus sat quietly reviewing notes.

"We've finally arrived," James said to no one in particular, taking a seat and immediately filling his plate. Remus look up from his book and mumbled something before delving back into his work. You sat next to James and made a bowl of porridge, listening to Sirius boast about the Quidditch match tomorrow.

"Ravenclaw is going to destroy Slytherin," he bellowed, thumping his fist on the table. "And then I am going to destroy a bottle of Firewhiskey in their common room." He smirked, earning and high five from James.

"That's the spirit, Pads," James cheered, taking a drink from his cup. You rolled your eyes and stirred your oats.

"I don't know how the two of you haven't died from overconsumption yet," you quipped, spooning sugar into your bowl.

"Genuinely," Remus added, looking up from his book, "you two are menaces." You hummed in agreement, bringing the spoon to your mouth to lick the extra sugar off. You caught Remus watching from your peripherals and made a show of it, bringing your glossed lips together at the tip of the spoon. When you glanced up thoughtfully through your lashes, he was still watching. It made you chuckle as his eyes quickly averted back to his book. Baited.

"Are you coming tomorrow, Y/N?" Peter asked, shoving toast into his mouth. You swallowed your porridge and swore that Remus' ears seemed to shift at the question.

"Y/N never comes to quidditch parties," James pouted, turning to look at you. You rolled your eyes.

"Correction, I never come to your quidditch parties," you teased, poking a finger into his shoulder. "I'll probably go tomorrow to see Pandora. If Ravenclaw wins," you reminded them. Sirius grumbled something but you couldn't tell what he was saying through his mouthful of sausage. James' face lit up with excitement.

"Ooh! Sibling bonding time," he gushed cheesily, squeezing your cheeks. Oh, for fucks sake. Could he stop? You were doing everything in your power not to be seen as his bloody little sister and he was ruining all your efforts.

"Okay, that's enough. I'm going to class," you grumbled, trying to hide your annoyance in front of Remus. The boys chuckled as you gathered your things and got up from your seat. If James was going to be a tosser, you'd have to up your game.

"Oops," you said innocently as you dropped your book on the ground, loud enough to make a clatter. You bent over to pick it up, praying that James was currently not watching.

"Merlin, Y/N. Pull your bloody skirt down," James scolded, making a foul face. You rolled your eyes at him again and stuck your tongue out as you continued to exit the hall. Well, if Remus hadn't been looking before, he surely was now.

PHASE 2: Line

You were more than excited for the Quidditch game, especially after spending yesterday evening stuck in the dungeons fixing your laughing potion. You were also excited because you had another chance to see Remus. You had only seen him briefly yesterday, and he was always buried in his work. Hopefully you'd be able to gain his attention today at the game.

With this intention, you slipped on a white babydoll top and watched yourself in the mirror as you buttoned it up. You looked good. You left the top button purposely unlatched, knowing it could catch someone’s attention. After slipping on your favorite pair of jeans, you felt confident- sexy, even. Just the idea of Remus thinking you were sexy made you bite your lip.

You didn't wait for your roommates to finish getting ready. You did a last check of your things, grabbed your coat, and started down to the common room. As per usual, the marauders were sitting around the couches, talking loudly and taking up space. This time, Remus was clearly in on whatever bet was being placed over the quidditch game. His crooked smile made you curse under your breath and fix your hair. You decided to play it safe and sit by Marlene in an attempt to hide your fluster.

“Hi Marls,” you chimed, plopping down next to her.

“Princess Potter! You look absolutely dashing today,” she gloated, giving you a quick hug into her shoulder. You blushed from her compliment and peered upwards from the hug. Remus was smiling at something Peter had said, but was looking at you. You sent him a small wave from under Marlene’s arm to which he nodded up in response before turning his attention back to the boys. Why was that so hot?

Within twenty minutes, the group of Gryffindors was ready to leave, so the lot of you began the journey down to the pitch. It was nice out today, one of those afternoons where the sun seemed to warm the grounds and the breeze. This meant that the entire school would be at the game. You weren’t usually a fan of crowded spaces, but you silently thanked the gods for putting you behind Remus as you filed into the stands. It was so packed, you could smell the cologne lingering off his clothes as you sat down on the bench. You bit your lip, trying to hide your smile of satisfaction. It felt like the universe was helping your scheme.

“Y/N!” James called over the crowd, leaning forward to see you. You raised your brows and leaned forward to see him, giving him a forced smile.

“Yes, brother dearest?” You called back in a sickly sweet voice. At least now you had an excuse to lean over Remus, who was currently leaning back as far as he could to get out of the way. Perfect position to climb onto his lap, your brain thought intrusively.

“Your boyfriend’s up on the pitch,” he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly, pointing to Theodore Pompous, a 7th year Ravenclaw. You leaned over Remus and Peter to smack your brother.

“Bugger off,” you grumbled. “I admit to having a crush one time in third year, and you still haven’t shut up about it!” You felt your cheeks blush as James and Sirius continued to tease you in the most immature manner. All you could do was roll your eyes and take it, those prats.

“Still have a crush on that posh boy?” Remus leaned in with a teasing smile. You internally groaned at him for joining in on the joke, but you wouldn’t pass up the chance to tease him back.

“Why, are you jealous?” You challenged with a devious head tilt. Remus scoffed and trained his eyes back on Theodore.

“Nah,” Remus replied coolly. “Besides, James would never let you go out with that git.”

“Oh, yea?” You asked, leaning in slightly. “And who would my brother let me go out with?” He turned to face you, his eyes meeting your provocative stare. His eyes flashed with something before Marlene tugged on your arm.

“Can you tell the boys to scoot down? Lily just got here.”

You stifled the urge to roll your eyes as you and Remus called out for the boys to move further down the bench. There wasn’t much room to spare, and you ended up wedged between Marlene and Remus. You were painfully aware of his leg against your own, though Marlene's thigh didn't seem to cross your mind. Remus leaned away from you, his hand behind Peter on the bench to support his weight. It was only a minute of this compromising position before they announced the start of the game. Then, everyone leapt to their feet, eager to watch.

It was a riveting match, and Slytherin almost took the win. Luckily, Theodore managed to catch the snitch at the perfect score ratio, ending the game and sealing the win for Ravenclaw. As the excitement and cheers began to die down, everyone started slowly filing out of the stands. You shuffled behind Marlene, the noise of chatter and brushing of shoulders making you feel slightly overwhelmed. The party was going to be packed tonight. You were almost to the stairs when your foot got caught on a raised step, tripping you into the walkway. You gasped as your heart lurched forward. You prepared for impact against the steps, but it never came. Suddenly, you felt that Remus’ hands had wrapped around your waist. Your cheeks flushed red as you twisted around to face him, his right hand still lingering on your body.

“Thanks,” you muttered sheepishly, your body still shaken from the almost fall. He hesitated for a moment with his hand on you, and was about to say something before James appeared next to him. Remus dropped his hand and shoved it in his pocket. You turned back around and kept following Marlene, carefully watching where you stepped.

“Y/N, fix your shirt!” James called from behind. You clenched your jaw as you kept trudging on, shuffling along with the rest of the Gryffindors. Marlene fell beside you and scoffed.

“He is such a prat about you,” Marlene complained, throwing a dirty look back at James.

“Tell me about it. I almost eat shit and all he cares about is my shirt buttons,” you grumbled, begrudgingly buttoning your top. Marlene cackled and threw her arm around you.

“Please tell me you’re coming to the party tonight,” Marlene pleaded, shaking you slightly.

“Oh, I’m coming to the party tonight,” you grinned delightfully, nudging her in response. “And James is going to freak out when he sees what I’m wearing.”

PHASE 3: and Sinker

"Okay, actually what the fuck are you wearing, Y/N. This is my last straw," James warned, pushing himself up from the arm chair. His outburst made the other three boys heads snap up. You couldn't help but smirk as you felt Remus’ eyes on your body.

"What? This is what people wear at Ravenclaw parties these days," you shrugged, waving past them towards the exit. "Not that you lot would know. You don't get invited." Sirius barked out a laugh, while James sputtered in disbelief behind you.

"She's right!" Mary called from the stairs, bouncing into the common room with the rest of the Gryffindor girls, all looking flawless. You couldn't blame James for his reaction- If anything, you should be thanking him. He's doing a great job of getting everyone to stare.

"While I respect your opinion James, I think I look great. And I can wear whatever the hell I want," you snapped, spinning around to face him with a stubborn glare. The girls cheered, shouting some excited "Hell yeahs!" as James gave up with a resigned eye roll. He knew better than to cross you on something you wanted, and you clearly wanted something. He just didn't need to know exactly what it was. The girls followed you excitedly as you started out the portrait hole. This was going to be a fun night.

As predicted, the Ravenclaw common room was packed. By the time you arrived, the moonlight was already pouring through the glass ceiling dome, casting everything in a dreamy glow. It wasn't hard for Pandora to spot you, pulling you onto the dance floor with an airy giggle. The music was pulsing through your veins as you finished your first drink, then your second. Pandora pulled you into her body, the two of you laughing as you swayed and twirled. For a moment, your eyes focused on the group of Gryffindors hanging out in the lounge area, laughing at something Sirius had said. Remus sat back in a chair, his casual demeanor seeming out of place in a room like this.

Remus.

Your swaying slowed as you trained your eyes on him sitting nonchalantly. He was watching you, his jaw tightening as his eyes dropped to where Pandoras hands rested on your hips. It was too bad that Pandora twirled you around and you lost your train of thought.

"Panda, let's go smoke. I'm getting dizzy," you called over the music, Pandora nodding in response. The two of you resigned to a quiet corner, where you pulled out a tin of cigarettes and lit one with a flick of your wand. You inhaled deeply, enjoying the relief of cool air away from the crowd. You leaned your back up against the wall as Pandora took the fag from your hands.

“Lingering eyes are on you,” Pandora sang, her spacey eyes falling behind you as she took a drag. You turned your head to see where she was looking and was met with Remus' stare.

“Perfect. Those are just the eyes I want lingering,” you replied, bringing your drink to your lips as you watched him. You half expected him to look away, but his eyes were burning through you. You watched as he scanned up your body, his eyes meeting yours before he downed the rest of his drink. He then quickly averted to James who was trying to get Remus' attention.

"I need another drink,” you mumbled as you pushed yourself off the wall, Pandora's giggles echoing behind you. You crossed the room over to where the drinks were. You couldn’t tell if the room was charmed to be slightly purple or if it was the night sky above you. Either way, the ambiance certainly added to your intoxication as you neared the edge of the room. You almost didn’t realize someone slipping up behind you.

"Are you teasing me, Y/N?" Remus asked, cornering you by the drinks table as you spun around. He moved quickly, and you peered behind him to check for any lingering marauders.

"I'm always teasing you idiots," you sassed, turning to grab a bottle off the table. Remus seemed to step even closer to you. If one of the boys saw you like this, they'd certainly take notice. He was being bold. Luckily, you were hidden by an abnormally large globe and the mist that seemed to float about the room.

"I see you everyday," Remus challenged, huffing out a laugh, "and I've never noticed you looking at me with those eyes, Y/N." You hummed as you filled two shot glasses.

“What eyes?” You asked innocently, looking up at him through your lashes as you held out a shot for him. He scoffed out another laugh and took the shot from you.

“Cheers, love,” he winked, clanking his glass with yours before downing the shot. You followed suit, happy to consume some liquid courage. He leaned in closer to you and lowered his voice, “You know, you should really be careful wearing something like that.”

“Why’s that?” You swallowed, the burn from the shot making your cheeks hot.

“You might catch someone’s attention who you don’t want,” Remus said darkly, making you bite your lip. You’d never seen him like this before.

“And what if I catch the attention of someone I do want?” You asked coyly, looking up at him again through a tantalizing gaze. Remus scoffed again for the third time, as if he couldn’t believe your audacity.

“And who is it that you want, Y/N? Hmm?” He asked, more of a challenge. At this point, you were certain that he wanted you. That, or you were about to be in serious trouble. Either way, the risk seemed worth the reward.

“You.”

Something broke in Remus as he stepped forward again, impossibly closer as his hands met your hips.

"You mean to tell me you wore this dress, just to get my attention?" He laughed, his voice low and teasing. You bit your lip and blushed, trying to hide your blatant satisfaction. Remus was smarter than he looked.

"Mmhm," you nodded, your poorly hidden smile spreading to his face.

"Fuck, Y/N," he broke and turned to scan the room, his hands still grasping your hips. You stared up at him, watching his jaw tense as he tried to locate the marauders. His hands were burning through your dress as you stood completely still. You felt relieved when he muttered, "Follow Me," and ushered you towards the exit. You weren't sure where your brother was, but you trusted Remus to get you into the hallway. Once you had exited the doors, he wasted no time as he pressed you into the wall, the force causing you to gasp. He held you in place as he pressed his forehead into yours.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered and you almost scoffed. You tugged him by the collar and collided his mouth with yours, groaning when he deepened the kiss immediately. His hands were greedy, grabbing at your body as he pushed himself against you. This was even better than your dreams. All sense left your body as he continued kissing down your neck. He pressed his knee roughly in between your legs. A moan left you lips as he bit down, nipping and sucking at your skin.

"Fuck, Remus," you panted, your hips rolling up towards his body. He grunted and pushed you back against the wall. Who knew Remus Lupin would be so intense?

"Can I take you back?" he breathed heavily, as if he was barely holding onto his control.

"Do you even have to ask?" you teased, his body flush against your own. He huffed out a laugh as he kissed your neck again.

"You know I have to ask, Y/N," Remus muttered darkly, as though the act of asking in itself was a violation. And maybe it was, but you couldn't care less about the line he was crossing.

"Does this answer your question?" You whispered, pulling his hand down to touch you. He cursed under his breath as he felt you, his hand seeming to move on its own as he ran his fingers up your soaking panties. It took him a minute to regain focus.

"Okay, let's go," he commanded, guiding you down the hallway with haste. You giggled as he held your waist, moving you quickly towards the Gryffindor tower. You couldn't believe this was actually happening. It surprised and satisfied you that your plan had worked, that you'd managed to tip Remus over so far that he was bringing you back to his dorm.

"You're moving so fast," you fussed as he dragged you up the stairs. His legs were significantly longer than yours.

"M' sorry," he muttered, his eyes focused ahead. "I don't want to waste any time." His urgency was contagious, and you felt yourself pick up the pace. He released you as you stepped through the portrait hole, his grip loosening with surprising restraint. He was careful, and as much as it didn't concern you in the moment, you were glad at least one of you was being responsible. There weren't many people in the common room, everyone either asleep or at the party. Remus' hand found your back once again as he silently steered you towards the boys dorms. You went up the staircase until you reached their door, looking back at Remus for permission before opening it. The windows let in slivers of moonlight and a cooling breeze. Remus shut the door behind you and turned you around. Somehow his faced seemed more real as he stood there, his eyes searching your face.

"Remus," you breathed, feeling the weight of his gaze. He huffed out a breath through his nose, stepping close to you.

"Just tell me Y/N," he said, his hands finding your neck, "Just tell me if you want me to stop."

"I want you," you whined, standing on your tip toes and pulling him down by the neck. He gratefully returned the motion, groaning as his mouth found yours. Remus was everything you'd expected and more. He knew what he was doing, and his blatant want for you made your legs buckle under his touch. He walked you backwards, lifting you by the thighs and lowering you carefully onto his bed. His hand smoothed its way over your leg, pushing up the hem of your dress. His thumb swiped against your front, causing your back to lift slightly under his touch. He hummed into your mouth as he ground his hips down into yours. You could feel him through his pants, and you groaned at his size. Fucking hell. You ran your finger nails down the back of his shirt. Remus pulled his wand out of his pocket and closed his curtains, sitting up on his knees and unbuttoning his shirt. You watched, mesmerized by the show in front of you. The scars that ran down his chest, lower to his abdomen, and lower...

"My eyes are up here, darling," Remus teased, smirking down at you as he tugged off his shirt. You swallowed, looking up at his eyes which were no less intimidating than his body. He scoffed out a laugh as he climbed over you, running his fingertips down your body.

"If your intention was to get my attention all night, you did a good job," he breathed, pressing his finger into your clit. "Such a good job."

He stifled your moan with his mouth, his kiss wet and needy. His fingers moved carefully over your panties, provoking a response from your body that you'd never experienced before. You were trying your best to keep up with his kiss, but the overwhelming sensation of Remus had you melting into the bed.

"Oh, fuck," you moaned, throwing your head back into the pillow as his fingers moved underneath the fabric. He hummed as he began to kiss roughly down your neck. His fingers swiped over your slickness, teasing your entrance. You grasped onto him tighter, your nails digging into his shoulder as he plunged a finger inside you. He pushed himself up to watch you as he pumped another finger into you, you hips moving rhythmically with his hands. By this point, you looked a complete mess with your dress bunched around your middle and your mouth in a permanent gasp. You groaned as you felt yourself beginning to pulse on the brink of an orgasm.

"Fuck, Y/N. Are you going to cum?" Remus mocked you, he fingers stealdiy curly up inside of you.

"Y-yea. M' gonna cum," You whimpered, screwing your eyes shut. Remus muttered a curse under his breath before ducking his head and finding his way in between your thighs. Without warning, he buried himself in you, lapping at your clit while pinning you down by the waist. You grasped at his hair, attempting to pull him off of you but it was no use. He was humming into you as you moved in circle around his face, teetering on the verge of your orgasm. He let out a particularly throaty grunt that sent you over the edge. You let out a muffled cry as you spilled your juices onto his tongue repeatedly. He finished you up, humming as he began to kiss up your body until he hovered over you again. You pulled him down into a rough kiss, your hips snapping up to feel his hard on. "You're so perfect, Y/N," Remus praised, pulling your dress down over your bum. Your tits were now fully exposed, Remus' hands and eyes exploring over your body like he was trying to memorize you. "So perfect... I want you so badly..." He groaned, kissing over you chest and rubbing your tit in his hand. You groaned with pleasure.

"Then have me." You didn't hesitate to pull off the rest of your clothes, helping Remus unbutton his pants and pull them over his ankles. He did the same with his boxers, his length springing free. You bit your lip at the sight, a little nervous for how big he was. This didn't deter you though as you sat on your knees and leaned forward, beckoning him to use you.

"You're so fucking-” Remus let out a groan as he pushed himself inside your mouth, grabbing the back of your head with his hand. You wet his shaft with your tongue, moaning as he began to move down your throat. "So fucking good." His praises made you clamp your knees together, groaning again as you took him as far as you could handle. He gripped your hair roughly and throat fucked you for a few seconds before pulling you off, as if he couldn't control himself. "Turn around."

You did as you were told and spun around onto you hands. He pushed you chest down into the bed lined himself up with your entrance. You tried to sit back onto him, but his other hand held your hips firmly in place.

"Please, Remus," you choked out, your face buried into the mattress. He groaned as he pushed into you slowly, stretching you out with every inch he pressed inside of you.

"Oh, fuck," Remus breathed, moving slowly to let you adjust to his size. This consideration didn't last long before he was pounding you into his mattress, calling you filthy names and tugging on your hair. All the restraint he seemed to have went out the window as he fucked you mercilessly from behind.

"R-Remus. Fuck- me-" you cried, whimpering with every thrust. His hand gripped your hip with a squeeze as he leaned over your body.

"You're taking me so well," He breathed, running his hand under you body. He snaked his hand over your tit and pulled you up against him, making you gasp with pleasure from the new angle. "You're doing so good, angel."

He had you melting from his touch as your body gave out underneath his hands. He bit your neck gently, sucking and kissing on the sweet spot he had found earlier. You groaned as your head lulled back on his shoulder. This was not what you were expecting. You had no complaints though as he reached down between your legs and started pressing on your clit, pushing himself deep inside of you.

“R-Remus,” you warned, struggling to hold yourself up. You could feel a knot forming in your stomach for the second time as his thick cock moved inside of you, putting more pressure on your nerves.

“Just like that, Y/N,” he murmured, his strong hands holding you in place. “Just let go, sweetheart.”

You didn’t have to be told twice as you let yourself release around him, guttural sounds coming out of your mouth. You had no time to feel embarrassed over your moans as he pushed you back on the bed and started fucking you senseless.

“So good, fuck me,” Remus mutter incoherently as he rammed himself inside of you, grabbing at your hips. You looked back at him to watch, and were not disappointed at the sight. When his eyes locked onto yours, he broke. He snapped his hips haphazardly as he released himself inside of you. You moaned again at the feeling of Remus Lupin filling you up with his cum. He thrust into you one last time before falling over you, moving your hair to one side to kiss your neck.

“So fucking good, Y/N,” he praised again, cleaning the both of you up with an impressive flick of his wand. You hummed and turned yourself around in a fucked out daze. He watched you pout as you pulled weakly on his neck. He chuckled under his breath and came down to kiss you. The two of you stayed like that for a while, lazily kissing as his hands rubbed gently down your body, a stark contrast from his rough actions just moments ago.

“I should probably go,” you frowned as he came up for air. He mirrored your response and sighed.

“You’re probably right,” he said, pushing himself off of you. “Here, let me grab you a shirt.” He pulled on his own pants before you heard him shuffle to his trunk. Just as you were about to move to get up, you heard someone bounding up the stairs.

“Shit,” you whispered, frozen in place. You saw Remus’ hands toss a shirt through the curtain before retreating, and you gratefully put it on. Luckily, your dress was still under you. You heard Remus kick your shoes under his bed.

“Moony? Why’d you leave so early?” You heard Sirius ask with a slight slur, stumbling into the room.

“Started boking,” Remus replied casually. “I feel like shit, I’m just gonna go to bed.” Sirius hummed and fell on his bed. You heard him kick off his shoes and manuveur himself under the sheets.

“You and me both, Moons,” Sirius groaned, seemingly too drunk to care about any lie Remus was spewing. Remus moved towards his bed.

“Alright, well. G’night,” Remus murmured, climbing into bed quickly.

“G’night,” Sirius muttered, rummaging through something. You looked to Remus with concern, who only put his finger to his lips as he came to lay down next to you. His haphazard smile seemed to relax you a bit as he pulled you into your chest, humming with content.

“Just go to sleep, love,” he whispered quietly and kissed your head. “I’ll get you back safe and sound.” Perhaps it was against your better judgement, but you seemed to trust Remus wholly to take care of you. That and your body was completely exhausted from him. You murmured a goodnight as you buried yourself into his neck, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. At some point, you heard your brother come in with Peter. Remus momentarily tensed causing you to shift. His grasp tightened on you before he heard Sirius grumble something along the lines of “sick” to James and the room fell silent again.

The second time you stirred, you felt Remus pulling away from you. You mumbled lightly, confused as to why he was getting out of bed. He turned to shush you quietly before stepping out. You heard him shuffle across the room.

“James,” he whispered, “James, wake up.” You sat up quietly in his bed. What the fuck was he doing?

“Mm,” James groaned, turning in his bed. “Moony?”

“Yea it’s me,” Remus said quickly. “Can I borrow your cloak? I think a Slytherin charmed my drink last night and I need to go on a quick mission.” You rolled your eyes at this. Remus was smart, and his lies would perfectly convince James. He would never turn down a prank.

“Oh, shit,” James said, slightly more awake. “Do you want me to come?”

“No,” Remus answered quickly. “Uh, no. I’ll be super quick. I just can’t sleep until I know I got back at them.” This seemed to appease James as you heard him fall back into bed.

“Sure, Moony,” James yawned. “It’s in my trunk.” You heard Remus shuffle through his trunk before coming back around to the other side of your bed. You heard him slip on some shoes before holding the curtain open, once again holding his finger to his lips. You rolled your eyes at this and quietly stepped out of the bed, thankfully blocked by the rest of the room. Remus threw the cloak over the both of you and guiding you to the door, trying to be as quiet as possible. Both of you felt relief as you stepped into the stairway, making your way down to the common room. Nobody was here at this hour. Remus threw the cloak off of you.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said, spinning you around to face him. “I should’ve been more careful.” You shook your head.

“It’s fine, I didn’t mind using you as my pillow for a bit,” you chuckled lightly. “Besides, I could’ve used a bit more caution myself.” You blushed shyly at him. You hadn’t been the most discreet throughout the whole ordeal. Remus laughed at this and ran his thumbs across your hips, causing you to shiver. You wore only his oversized shirt and your panties.

“Nah,” Remus said with his lopsided grin. “I think I quite like your obvious pining for me.” You slapped his chest lightly as he chuckled. “I’ll just have to work extra hard to keep you to myself.” He leaned in to kiss you, and you felt your heart leap. So much for getting over your crush.

“Hmm, I’ll guess I’ll have to keep trying to get you attention then,” you whispered, pulling back from his lips. He hummed and kissed you again, as if he couldn’t get enough.

“Go get some sleep, love. I’m sure you need it,” he teased, flashing another grin at you. You rolled your eyes at him but couldn’t keep your smile down.

“Goodnight, Remus.” You started towards the girls dormitories.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Remus found himself staying in the common room with James’ cloak, not wanting to return too early. He tried to convince himself this was a bad idea, but he couldn’t justify it. There really wasn’t anything that could stop him from fucking you again. His mind flashed with images of your perfect eyes looking back at him as he rammed himself inside of your perfect pussy. His head fell back onto the couch with a thud. He was a goner.

[aurumalatus]

𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝟏

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

genre/warnings. pixelprincess!au (princess!reader x knight!kinich), reposted for formatting lol

summary. a series of random headcanons from the universe! part 1 of many because i have lots of thoughts about these two

author's note. feel free to come scream about some more headcanons with me <3 enjoy!

𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

kinich and the princess have known about each other for a long time, but it’s only recently that they’ve really talked a lot and become close (since kinich became your guard)

kinich is a bit more open in this universe because although he grew up an orphan, he was recruited into the guard earlier and taken care of by his fellow trainees and the castle staff. he’s still pretty serious and deadpan at his core but he has a bit of silly in him too 

the maids especially used to dote on him a lot. they would coo about how beautiful his eyes are and sneak him cakes and sweets from the kitchen

kinich and the princess actually had one key interaction when they were children that she doesn’t remember

the princess came down with a bad illness and had to stay in her room for about a week. kinich was assigned guard right outside her room, but she never saw him. still, they used to talk a lot during that week through her door, and she never quite figured out who her temporary friend was.

princess used to be *very* spoiled and she knows this. kinich is one of the only people who knocks her down a peg, and he also taught her how to do a lot of practical things (i.e. cleaning, cooking, weaving) 

kinich takes his shirt off by grabbing the back of his collar and pulling it over his head (idk if i’m describing this well, but the image in my head is INSANE). 

once they actually get together, kinich is the type to kiss the princess’s tears away when she cries (i’m going to scream)

kinich secretly has always known he loved the princess in some capacity, maybe since the day he was inducted as her guard (he looked up into her eyes, knelt before her, and felt something burst in his chest). he doesn’t feel like he deserves her love in return and feels so committed to his duty that he won’t do anything about it.

kinich isn’t afraid of dying, but he’s afraid of leaving the princess alone. it’s the reason why he insists on teaching her so many practical things like fighting—he doesn’t trust anyone else to protect her like he can.

there’s a yearly tournament among the guards (and any citizens that want to enter) that is held to win the royals’ favor. kinich is required to participate due to his position, but he tries a lot harder than he lets on—something about letting another guard win kind of irritates him. he wins your ribbon as a prize, a sign of your personal favor, and keeps it on him at all times. he claims it’s just to prove that you owe him.

kinich is a TERROR in the capital marketplace. sellers love him and hate him—he’s fair, but he barters like HELL. you, on the other hand, are any easy target. you will pay pretty much any price they name, and this irritates kinich greatly.

kinich is in charge of training newer recruits to the guard, and older members will warn them not to mention the princess in front of him. last time someone said something disrespectful about her, kinich had them running laps until the sun came up.

most mornings, kinich trains at sunrise. the princess will come out to join him sometimes, either to just lay down in the grass and talk, or to bring out a picnic

many princesses from other nations are attracted to kinich, but he does not return the sentiment—whenever one tries to talk to him, he acts extremely dry and boring on purpose until they lose interest.

kinich has a lot of piercings, but they're not always optimal to fight in—on days when he expects a battle, he wears a pair of studs that the princess gifted him

the castle maids have a running bet on how long it will take you and kinich to get married. sometimes they try to push it along by telling kinich you're looking for him when you aren't, just to pull the two of you together. the pot is over one million Mora, and at some point, the queen joins as well.

[nicxl333]

could you do a part 2 of bllk boys accidentally hurting their partner bu with a good ending please.

My stomach wouldn't be able to handle mor angst(⁠T⁠T⁠)

BABY YOU SOLD ME A DREAM PT.2

thanks for the req anon, i think you’re doing everyone a favour here by asking for this because whew! i was ready to dropkick a mf from writing pt.1 lmao

also if you’re here by chance it’s probably best if you read pt.1 for context before you read pt.2 | :3

characters: isagi yoichi, reo mikage, nagi seishiro, barou shoei, itoshi rin

content: overwhelming fluff, slight angst, major angst (in rin and barou’s part), reader is female coded (the term ‘girlfriend ‘ is used)

tags: @kaiserkisser @silly-ez @scaramouchemyloveee @mariyumemi @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @hsxhype @aquamarine001 @nxgiswife @hanagoromo-roses

☆彡 ISAGI YOICHI

two weeks. two long, monotonous weeks spent without isagi. yes bachira did his very best to make sure you were comfortable with him, but you missed isagi so damn much.

it wasn’t only difficult for you though, bachira was trapped in a bad position. due to him being a friend of both you and isagi, he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. while it was evident that isagi had fucked you over badly, being in a team with isagi and having him as a bestfriend didn’t make things better. he couldn’t just pick a side and be done with it.

unbeknownst to you though, isagi asked bachira multiple times each day about how you were doing. after some self reflection, he realised just how wrong he was for treating you that way. especially since people like you nowadays are hard to come by. someone so nurturing, caring and full of love and devotion for their s/o was quite the rarity to find. and to think he nearly lost all of that with just a few words. really opened up his perspective of things. he wanted to do better. for you and himself.

and so, he cut down his training times, making more time for himself to wind down from daily intensive workouts. he thought of words to say to you, to make it known to you that he was aware where he went wrong and was taking responsibility for his actions.

he also went shopping, to buy you a multitude of gifts. clothes, jewellery, trainers and heels, perfumes, trinkets. you name it, he bought it. it all cost him a hand and a foot, but he didn’t mind, he would do it 100 times over for you. (we should remember this man is a professional footballer, he’s got dough.) once home, he placed all the gifts on the coffee table in the living room, having to put some on the floor due to the sheer amount he bought, ready to take them to bachira’s tomorrow.

little did he know he wouldn’t have to make the commute.

you had said your goodbyes to bachira that same day, thanking him for taking you in for so long with a big bear hug, to which he returned with just as much (platonic) love as you had shown him. you placed your bag in the backseat of your car, turning on the ignition and beginning the drive back home.

as the roads whizzed by you on the highway, so did the thoughts in your head. you were very nervous to have to talk to isagi again, to have to recall exactly what happened that night. glancing at the time on the dashboard, you drew the conclusion that isagi should be training right now, which would at least give you time to prepare before he got back.

as you pulled up to the apartment complex, the first thing you noticed was that isagi’s car was there, in his usual spot next to yours.

‘he’s home?’

surely not, maybe he just hitched a ride or something. although that didn’t make any sense whatsoever. there would be no reason why isagi would skip his evening trainings, not that you could think of anyways. even after joint practice with his team he would then further push himself to do his own training, polishing up on his skills. so to think he’s potentially broken that pattern confused you.

after parking your car and collecting your things you made your way to your front door, unlocking it and venturing in. once you placed your keys on the side table and took off your shoes, you walked into the empty living room, ultimately puzzled when you noticed the coffee table filled to the brim with bags from your favourite places.

“yoichi? you there?”

nothing.

you therefore assumed he was out, deciding to take a closer look at the bags. inside, everything you had ever bought for yourself or displayed interest in while out with isagi lay in each bag. even things that you didn’t have, but wanted, were present.

he remembered.

your eyes immediately welled with tears of appreciation, head snapping to your bedroom door when you heard it open, isagi’s figure stepping out. you immediately jolted, not expecting him to actually be here, even though you didn’t actually take the time to look and see properly.

“shit! y/n, you’re back? wait, why’re you crying?”

in an instant he crossed the distance to you, wiping the tears away once he assessed and evaluated that you were not hurt.

“uh— sorry. i should’ve asked you first. is this okay?” he quizzed, holding the sides of your face tenderly. you nodded, leaning into his touch.

“are these for me yoichi?” you looked into his cobalt blue eyes. one hand left your cheek, rubbing at the skin behind his neck, suddenly feeling shy.

“erm…yes. yes they are. i wasn’t expecting you back though, i was gonna surprise you tomorrow. ” he pulled you towards the sofa, sitting you down and looking deep into your (e/c) eyes.

“look y/n, i know materialism doesn’t take away what i did to you, but i want you to know just how sorry i am. you didn’t deserve how i treated you. not two weeks ago or months before. i made you feel lonely, i put football before you. when you needed me, i shut you out. and i take full accountability for that. words couldn’t describe just how badly i’m in love with you and how crazy you make me feel. i couldn’t bear to lose that forever. hell, these two weeks without you have tormented me enough. a lifetime without you would finish me off for good.”

you listened to him speak every word, touched that he would say such soothing words to you. yes, you did expect him to apologise, but not to go above and beyond to show his willingness to change.

your nose started flaring, the sting of your eyes warning that you were about to cry again.

feeling uncomfortable with your silence, isagi pressed you slightly.

“y/n? are you— are you oka-”

you cut him off by pouncing on him, engulfing him in a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him like it was your last.

“i’m yours yoichi. always and forever.”

☆彡 MIKAGE REO

you woke up in the same hotel room you cried yourself to sleep in. throat dry, head pulsating and heart wounded. you needed some form of rejuvenation, but, considering you didn’t have any clothes on you, seemed hard to achieve.

you reached for your phone, shocked when you saw 20 missed calls and 46 messages from the very same person who caused you anguish in the first place. opening the message app you see the most recent messages being sent at around 5am.

“y/n, where are you?”

“y/n please answer the phone!”

“are you safe at least, i’m worried about you.”

“i just wanna know if you’re okay, we need to talk.”

“y/n?”

“y/n please, im starting to worry, just send me a text, or something. let me know you’re okay.”

although you were beyond pissed at the guy, he was concerned for your safety, and to make him worry for you like that shouldn’t have to be something anyone should experience.

you sent him a quick, straightforward response.

“i’m fine, you don’t need to worry.”

the read receipt came as quickly as you sent it, a bubble popping up, signaling that reo was typing. however, after a few moments, it disappeared altogether, leaving your message standing alone.

you sighed, deciding that the least you could do was shower, feeling clammy and, simply put, dirty.

luckily, your job was well paying so you were able to book a lavish en-suite hotel room, although you didn’t pay attention to that much last night, willing to go just about anywhere as long as it weren’t near reo. inside the bathroom lay exquisite amenities, top branded shower gel, shampoo and conditioner, along with oils and different expensive face care products. an unopened toothbrush pack also was present on the bathroom counter, with toothpaste alongside it. and by the full glass shower itself stood a towel and robe on the hanging rack.

it weren’t exactly clothes, but it was a start. better than staying in your dress the whole day. while you waited for the shower water to warm you looked at yourself in the mirror, cringing at how dishevelled your figure was. your cheeks were tear stained, causing your mascara to run, your lips had smeared lipstick still present, and your hair? let’s not even go there. you looked a hot mess, physical evidence of your current mood.

once heated to a substantial temperature you stepped into the shower, revelling at how that warm water melted into your skin. you made good work of scrubbing down your skin, leaving no traces of any events that may have transpired the day before.

soon enough you finished up your shower, stepping out and wrapping the towel round your figure, feeling refreshed, but still incomplete. you brushed your teeth next, trying to avoid letting your thoughts go off topic from the current task at hand.

just as you were walking into the room itself to look for moisturiser, you heard a knock at the door. it confused you to the core. no one actually knew your whereabouts so you couldn’t rack your brain to guess who it could be. you ventured close to the door, looking through the peephole and visibly relaxing once you saw a hotel worker standing, waiting.

“hello?”

“ah, good morning miss y/n, i have a bag here requested to be brought to you.”

if you weren’t confused before, you were bewildered now. this meant that someone hand to have known where’d you were, but how? only one way to find out.

“requested by who, might i ask?”

“mr…mikage reo?”

what the actual hell. you were well and truly silenced by the revelation. more importantly, it’s quite amazing how he managed to find your location with such haste. although it shouldn’t really surprise you so much, considering he probably had connections due to his status. it made you wonder just what exactly he brought to you.

“erm ma’am?”

you cracked the door open, seeing one of reo’s duffel bags stuffed to the brim. the hotel worker held it out for you to take, bowing then turning to leave immediately after. you carried the heavy bag through the room, placing it on the ottoman at the end of the bed.

you stood for a second, debating whether you should open it or not. curiosity got the better of you though, and you unzipped the bag, stalling when you realised it was a bag of clothes for you, as well as the moisturiser you use, some makeup products and your favourite trainers. it’s like he somehow knew you would need clothes, probably since you didn’t return home last night.

taking the clothes from the bag you realised he packed you one of your favourite hoodies, his own hoodie.

after moisturising yourself you started to put the clothes on, feeling slightly better about yourself. you looked into your makeup bag, seeing some of your basic everyday skin and hair products, as well as your everyday perfume, feeling grateful that reo at least paid attention enough to know what you liked and used.

just as you had finished your skincare routine you heard another lock at the door, wondering who it could be at this time. you got up and crossed your way to the door, looking through the peephole and freezing.

your boyfriend, reo stood at the door, looking around nervously.

you gauged your options for a moment, reaching an ultimatum with yourself that you couldn’t avoid him forever. you opened the door fully, stepping to the side for him to walk in, which he did, stepping meticulously and with precaution, while you closed the door behind him.

all was silent for a moment, neither party knowing what to say to the other, a million thoughts rushing through the room. the tension was taut, the air thick, and awkwardness seeping in.

you collected yourself, deciding to start it off.

“thanks for the clothes, i appreciate it.”

“it’s…the least i could do, considering how i treated you.” he said, simultaneously biting down on his lip.

“yeah.”

he moved closer towards you, looking at your expression to see if he was crossing boundaries at any point.

“y/n.” you looked at him with apprehension, worried about what may fly out of his mouth next. “i want you to know that what happened last night, was entirely my fault. i need you to understand that.”

you frowned with sadness displayed on your face. yes he may be owning up to his actions, but that didn’t explain why he said what he said. especially if he could say something of that degree to you with such ease. it sounded like he meant every word.

becoming slightly anxious from your silence, he continued on.

“i made you it sound like you were inadequate or you were lower than me because i have money. i know it sounds bad, but y/n, it’s really the opposite. you don’t look at me for my background, you look at me for who i am as a person. you make me feel normal. make me feel like i can be myself around you. i don’t have to keep myself guarded around you and i appreciate you so much for it. i guess that’s why i spoke out of turn to you like that last night. because you’re probably the only person who can actually knock me down a peg. and having nagi hear that made me scared. scared because i was vulnerable in front of him. of course, i’m not excusing my actions, and i’m not asking for forgiveness, i just want you to know i’m sorry.”

you nodded slowly in understanding, looking at the way he subconsciously tugged on a piece of his violet tresses. he left his hair down today. you loved it when his hair was down. he knew that.

“i hear you reo, but that’s not the only issue. this whole problem stemmed from the fact that you spend too much time with nagi. i don’t wanna be the girlfriend that prohibits you from spending time with your friends, that’s not who i am, but when you’re with nagi so much that it makes you forget important dates, that’s when it becomes a problem. especially when you then make it out to be like i’m the problem. no one is saying you can’t be around him, but have a backbone please. he’s always there reo. sometimes i just want you to myself, is that too much to ask for?”

he realised where he went wrong, casting you aside for the sake of nagi, which wasn’t cool. and he didn’t want to lose you. you were too good to him and he felt so strongly about you. anything you asked for could never be too much, not to him.

and so, he stepped closer to you still, scooping you up in his arms and spinning you around, relishing in the way you wrapped your arms around his neck, both for stabilisation and comfort.

“no baby, it’s never too much. not when it comes to you.”

you squeezed him tighter, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck and smiling.

“i don’t like it when we fight reo, i love you too much for that.”

“i love you too y/n,” he placed you down gently on the bed, laying you back and caging you in with both arms, his hair hanging directly over your face. “so…we’re gonna go back home and i want you to pack your bags. we’re going to mykonos for the week to celebrate our anniversary together.”

you straightened up, wondering where this was all coming from.

“huh? reo, you’re forgetting something? you may be off season right now but i still have work.”

“not for the next two weeks, i pulled some strings so now you have paid time off, which, gives you more time with your favourite man.”

you chuckled at his revelation, knowing he definitely used his power to threaten your manager. reo could be so demanding at times.

“speaking of which, do you know where he is?” his face immediately darkened at that.

“wanna repeat that?”

“nope!”

☆彡 NAGI SEISHIRO

nagi was in a state. it had only been 4 days since you broke up with him, but that was 4 days too long for him. it wasn’t actually until you broke it off with him and it sunk in that you were gone, that it really registered for him.

he missed you.

it made him realise, as much as he hated being bothered…he didn’t mind if it were you. he really did enjoy spending time with you. especially when cuddling. your figure was so soft, a perfect cushion for him to lay on as he slept. you would play with his hair so gently, lulling him to sleep. and you were really pretty.

the apartment just seemed all the more empty without you. yes, he did live alone pre blue lock a few years back, but having you live with him made him get used to having someone around. he grew comfortable and accustomed to it. so much so that it felt lonely when you left.

you had temporarily went back to your parents house while you looked for a new place to live. you had a few items of miscellaneous clothing left behind in your room, but you had ran out, thus needing the majority of your stuff, which you had left back at nagi’s.

you left off, with the promise to your parents that you’d be back soon.

the engine hummed as you drove back, playing your playlist on a high volume, hoping to drown out the thoughts spiralling in your head, although it did little to silence them.

you didn’t plan a time to leave out, but realised that you had coincidentally headed out at the same time nagi would be home, a meeting inevitable. oh well. had to happen at some point. you planned on a quick and brisk pit stop, hoping to minimise interaction with him as much as possible.

you pulled up to the apartment complex, walking through the lobby, swiping your keycard and pressing the lift to go to the penthouse.

in no time you reached the top, the lift doors opening. you stepped out and pushed your key into the lock, opening the door as silently as you could, walking in and shutting it with a click.

yes, you may have been moving around like a teenager after a forbidden night out, but you would much rather that than have to be further insulted by nagi, should he catch you.

alas, things cannot always go smoothly in life, for nagi had heard you, stepping out of the bedroom, shirtless with loosely hanging shorts, evidently having just woken up from a nap.

he instantly stopped, rubbing his eyes to see if he was tweaking or not. yet, you stood there, trying to disappear in that moment.

“y/n…you’re here.”

“only to get my things nagi, i’ll be out of your hair in around half an hour.”

nagi. his own name turned his mood sour. he’d much rather you call him by his actual name, or sei, not his last. and you knew that fact very well, making sure he knew damn well you were serious.

you begun to hurriedly walk towards the bedroom, where he was standing by the door, attempting to walk past him as quickly as possible. he intervened however, stepping about halfway into the door so that you were now directly in front of him and couldn’t get past, unless you spoke to him.

“are you really leaving y/n?”

“it’s l/n to you nagi, and yes. you don’t get to say something like that to me and think we’ll be cool after. it’s fucked up.”

you turned so he couldn’t see you, tears beginning to form at the painful recollection of what occurred a few days ago. you didn’t trust yourself to say anything else, for the fear of bursting into tears held you back.

“please don’t leave me y/n, i can do better, i promise. i regret what i said. really badly. i’m— i’m sorry.”

you knew that nagi didn’t like talking as it is (he referred to it as a hassle), so to have him trying to at least communicate with you did mean something. not enough to satiate you though.

“y/n?”

when you didn’t say anything back he lightly tugged your hand and turned you around, eyes widening once he saw tears streaming down your face.

he attempted to console you, wanting to pull you into a hug, but drawing back when you lightly pushed him off you.

“y/n- what’s wrong?”

“i can’t sei, i’m scared. scared you’ll grow bored of me. i don’t know if i’m bothering you or not and it kills me to think that you’d spend more time on games than with me. you basically told me i’m a hassle. how the hell else am i supposed to take that?”

your tears wouldn’t stop pouring down no matter how much you tried to calm yourself down, sniffles loud and clear as day.

something unusual happened to nagi as he watched you cry your eyes out. he felt his heart breaking into tiny shards at your state. more so because he knew it was because of him. he didn’t want to be the cause of your pain. he didn’t want to see you like this, experiencing such distress.

he wrapped his arms around you, one hand shielding your head and pulling your face into his bare chest, where you sobbed some more, letting up all the feelings built up from days prior.

“you’re not a hassle y/n. i said that out of turn. you could never be a hassle to me. while you were gone, i couldn’t even play my games properly. i just slept and trained because i missed you so much and didn’t know what to do without you. i know i’m lazy, and i know i don’t make you feel loved enough, but i do. i love you. i’ll do better for you and i don’t wanna be the reason why you’re upset. so please stop crying, wanna see your pretty face smile for me.”

you smiled into his chest, your sniffles beginning to subside and still.

“thank you sei, i really needed to hear that.”

“i would say it over 100 times for you. it might take a while but i won’t get bored of it. not when it comes to you.”

you wrapped your arms around his broad figure, squeezing tightly.

“will you be my girlfriend again y/n? no one else can reach your level. not now, not ever.”

you let go of his body, instead placing your palms on the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

“of course i will seishiro.”

“good, because i wanna cuddle with my girlfriend.”

☆彡 BAROU SHOUEI

it had been 2 months since you broke up with barou and he was miserable. who would’ve thought you leaving would cause such a rift in his life? his performance in matches were shit, he became pissed off at people more easily, and he was benched more often.

due to him not having someone to talk to, he essentially had no form of a wind down from football, something you were able to give him while you were together. something he had come to miss, and wished he appreciated more.

the lack of your items in the house made your departure all the more apparent. your decorations and items around the apartment were what made the house a home.

and you as a person? what wasn’t to like about you? you were a very levelheaded but gentle person, a great contrast to his fiery, angry personality. you catered to his every need, be it mentally, physically or sexually. your voice was what carried him through his day, soothing him to the bone, calming him down when he needed it. the more he thought about it, the more he realised he made a grave mistake pushing you out. the more he realised just how much he was attached to you, he was just unwilling to acknowledge it.

barou was no pussy, and he had enough of living like this, living without you, so he decided to get you back (and not fuck up this time).

he knew you were most likely staying at your childhood friend, chigiri’s house. he knew him very well, having done the blue lock training program with him years back, and played against him in several matches. he knew where he lived, having gone to parties held at his house through mutual connections.

and so, after practice, he grabbed his car keys and set off. he weren’t good with words, so his mind stayed scrambled as he thought of all the things he could say to you. while he couldn’t think of specific sentences to say to you, his goal remained the same.

after some time passed, he pulled up to chigiri’s house, your car the only one on the drive, which meant that only you were home. he switched off the ignition, stepped out of the car and walked up to the door.

with slight hesitancy, he lifted his fist to the door and knocked three times. he listened for any shuffling inside, but heard none. after a moment he turned away to leave, thinking you might’ve not been there after all. it’s possible you might’ve been out with chigiri in his car. yeah, that was probably it.

however.

“what do you want barou? i thought i was ‘making your life too hard’?”

shit, you were home. your voice was muffled, due to you speaking through the door, having seen his figure through the peephole.

“i- i didn’t mean that. not that way.”

you opened the door, allowing him to see a crack of your figure, donned in shorts and a tank top.

“then how did you mean it barou? don’t take me for an idiot, because i’m not one. no one says anything of that depth if you didn’t feel that exact way before. so before you let anymore bullshit spout from your mouth tell me exactly how you meant it, in what context. because i’m tired barou, tired of being in a relationship where i feel like i’m treading on glass around you because you don’t wanna do certain things. it’s not a nice feeling. you may not feel that way, but i do. i’ve felt that way during our whole relationship, but i feel like i can’t tell you shit so i’ve kept. it. in.”

wow. he really didn’t see things from your perspective. once he heard it from you, he realised just how much of a dickhead he sounded like. he couldn’t say anything, how could he explain himself after that?

he didn’t.

and after hearing no refutation or explanation from barou, you simply let go of any hopes of talking this out with him.

“shouei,” his ears perked at you using his first name. “i think…you should go. i don’t wanna have any hard feelings between us but i don’t think we’re right for each other. please understand and respect tha-”

you stopped short of ending your sentence upon seeing barou turn and leave before he could hear you out, getting back into his car and preparing to drive off.

you sighed, shaking your head and closing the door, effectually ending your relationship for good.

he got what he wanted, right?

☆彡 ITOSHI RIN

you woke up in the morning, immediately panning your vision to your left to see if rin had returned to bed. the bed imprints remained the exact same as you had left it when you fell asleep, which lead you to wonder if rin had even returned home.

you slid out of bed, your feet touching the cold wood floor, you trudged your way through the apartment, looking for signs of life, your shoulders falling in disappointment when you realised rin was nowhere to be seen. it was debatable if he even came home or not, the answer you would probably never find out.

you warred with yourself in your head about what to do. considering rin didn’t even try to talk to you to rectify the situation showed he didn’t really give a shit. if he didn’t come home, then he probably didn’t even know if you came home or not, which meant he isn’t worrying about you or where you were.

you weren’t a dickhead, and waiting for someone who evidently didn’t want you seemed like such a desperate action, which you weren’t trying to act like.

and so, calling a few willing friends, shedding some tears here and there, and half a day of hard work, you had effectively moved out of your shared apartment with rin, leaving a half completed home. he didn’t return home the whole day, not that you gave a shit anymore.

imagine rin’s surprise when he returned home from his team practice, expecting to see you moping around somewhere, but instead, nowhere to be found. as a matter of fact, where the fuck was your stuff? the apartment looked very much empty right now. he took at least 15 minutes to look around, analysing his surroundings, the same he would do during a game. any potted plants you bought for the house, specifically for the living room disappeared. your stupid candle ornaments that somehow made the house look better? not a ghost of a trace left behind. your clothes? gone. even from the laundry basket, only his clothes remained.

your products, your favourite sleeping pillow, even your toothbrush was gone. you left no stone unturned, questionable if you ever lived there in the first place.

still slightly puzzled but somewhat aware of the answer behind all of this, he pulled out his phone, clicking immediately on the message app. he sent you a message, heart dropping and suspicions confirmed when his message was not only green, but displayed a ‘not delivered’ message underneath. you had blocked him, and moved out without his knowledge.

he knew you were pissed off from what had transpired, but he didn’t know you would take action this soon. you didn’t even wait to talk to him for the love of god. this wasn’t supposed to happen this way, he was only angry at you because he felt threatened in the moment. but, recalling just exactly what he said to you, maybe it was warranted.

maybe it was for the best. you barely had enough time together as it is, due to unmatchable schedules and rin always being abroad. he was never able to give you enough love. funny, considering he didn’t even make sure to tell you. looking back on it, he realised he was kind of a dickhead to you.

so, he let go of the relationship for good.

—

four months had passed. he’d gotten bigger as a football player after his team winning a multitude of matches had lead to him becoming their star player, constantly getting man of the match achievements. this lead to his popularity increasing, getting more fans and fame as a result. he had been abroad this whole time, focusing on his career.

oh. but don’t think he had escaped you.

he couldn’t get his mind off you.

you tormented his thoughts daily and nightly, his yearning for you and hate for himself flourishing simultaneously as he repeatedly recalled how he fucked up. he wished he could go back to that night, heeding your warnings.

either way, that couldn’t be achieved now, for he didn’t know your whereabouts. he hadn’t known since that night on the pitch.

he tried to move on the best he could, returning back to japan to visit his parents whilst he had time off from football.

it just so happened one day while he popped out to a grocery store to get ingredients for his mother, the he saw the back of a familiar head, whisking away to the next aisle over. piquing his curiosity, he immediately paced to see if it way really who he thought it was.

and yes, the face he thought he’d never see again, the very same person who had been frequenting his mind,

you.

“y/n!” you froze, not expecting to find him here of all places. last time you had seen on tv, he was abroad. he wasn’t supposed to be here. deciding you had to face the music at some point, you turned around, watching as his demeanour melted, at really seeing you again after so long.

“rin…hi.”

all was silent for a moment, not knowing what to say to each other. what does one say in situations such as these? not to worry, rin answered for you.

“how…how’ve you been?”

“good thanks, how about you?”

“i’ve been— alright.”

silence settled again. rin wanted to voice so many things to you, starting with how he wanted you to know how he’s changed. how he’s calmed down in terms of training. how he’d make more time. he wanted you to know he’d do things differently, if you ever took him back. he wanted you to come home… but he didn’t know where to start.

he would have to at some point however, for you wanted to get away from him as soon as possible.

“well…um, it was good seeing yo-”

“wait!” he interjected, panic settling in that you would disappear and he would never get the chance again. “i— i just wanted to tell you tha—”

“y/n baby, i’ve got the washing powder.”

baby? what the fuck?

he looked just past you to see a guy walking up to you, taking the basket from your hands with a peck to your cheek. you smiled at the action, lacing your hand in his hair as he took place behind you. he then noticed rin, standing there with visible shock on his face, confused on what he missed while he was gone.

“who’s this?”

“oh, just an old friend.” a bold faced lie. anyone with two functioning brain cells could feel the history between you two. “i’ve got my stuff so let’s go to the queue. nice seeing you rin…have a good day.” you walked off with your supposed new boyfriend. a boyfriend that wasn’t him.

have a good day? after you just shattered his heart like that?

his throat turned dry, awareness sinking in.

he wanted you to come home…but he was too late.

baby you sold me a dream pt.3

[tryingtofindava]

𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐲 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭*ೃ༄

tw: FEM READER!! And it talks about… well… smut.

: ̗̀➛Back to source

MORE UNDER THE CUT!!!

A = Aftercare

(what they’re like after sex…)

Because of his CIPA he probably won’t be able to feel the affects it had on his body, so if you yourself aren’t too tired out…

You’ll probably convince him the two of you can take a cold shower to get his body heat back to normal. (which may or may not result in a round 2…)

Other then that he’s making sure your comfy and cozy, and the two of you will probably just snuggle the rest of the night or day.

B = Body part

(their favourite body part of theirs and also their partners…)

He doesn’t like looking at himself that much, and tends to cover up as best as he could. (Which almost always leads to him nearly dying of heatstroke because he’ll refuse to take some layers off…)

His favourite part on you (other than your face) is your thighs, he likes smooshing his face against them.

C = Cum

(anything to do with cum…)

Depends…

If you’re on the pill he’s 100% giving you a creampie. He says he does it because it’s more intimate to him.

But if you’re not, he’s either doing it on your stomach, or tits. He ain’t wanting kids. (for more then one reason)

D = Dirty Secret

(its self explanatory…)

Not really a secret since you DEFINITELY know about it, but…

In his dresser drawer he’s has about 6 pairs of your panties. You discovered it when you remembered he had cough sweeties in his drawer and accidentally found them…

Best to just shut the drawer and pretend you never saw them in the first place. Or tease him about it. At least you know were your missing panties are now…

E = Experience

(how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

You’re his second girlfriend ever. The first being Natalie. And the furthest they got in their relationship was kissing and cuddling, so he’s got them down.

So you were his first time, though he’s not the most experienced out there… He’s a quick learner AND he definitely makes up for it with enthusiasm. But he’s so so very loser-y about it.

F = Favorite positions

(take a wild guess…)

Toby’s top 5 favourite positions not in order!!

1) leap frog

2) cow girl

3) face off

4) ballet dancer

5) missionary

Though he is up to try any position once (maybe more if he REALLY likes it), these are just his go to.

G = Goofy

(are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc…)

He tries to take it as seriously as possible, because you are willing to do something so intimate with him? Of all people??

Though he can’t help but be at least a little silly during the deed.

H = Hair

(how well groomed are they?)

He’s not shaven clean, but he hasn’t got a bush either. Too much hair makes him feel icky. But he doesn’t have to shave often, Toby isn’t an overly hairy guy like Tim.

He’s got a patch of hair on his chin, armpits, and legs and arms. And his happy trail is top tier ¬‿¬

I = Intimacy

(how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect…)

Depends on his mood tbh, if it’s been a good day he’ll be extra romantic and sweet, praising you and how good you are. But if it’s a bad day, he’ll be rough to get his frustrations out (and even if he is being rough he’s still so gentle about it if ykwim, like he doesn’t wanna hurt you, but like yeah<3).

J = Jack off

(masturbation headcanon…)

He doesn’t do it as often as ppl think, though he still acts like a horny teen. At least jerks off two times a week sometimes more if he’s had a rough day. And he’d be a liar if he said he hasn’t jerked off with your panties.

K = Kink

(one or more of their kinks…)

Praise is a big one for him, he’s more of a giver, but likes receiving it as well. Tell him how good he’s making you feel, he’ll cum 10x faster.

And although he’s likes to praise you, he likes to degrade you too. But only a little.

Mommy kink? Maybeeeeee… Depends if you’re topping or not.

Marking: He’s a total slut for giving you hickeys, he likes putting them in the most obvious places for people to see. Double points if you don’t bother covering them up.

Dry humping. Don’t be shy, hop on his thigh and get to work.

He accidentally discovered his Voyeurism kink when he walked in on you masturbating. He didn’t mean to just stand there and watch… it’s just… you were too pretty to look away.

Mans loves some bondage, tying up your hands and legs is like his equivalent to a Christmas present.

L = Location

(favorite places to do the deed…)

Up against the wall, the bed, in the woods… he’s fine with doing it anywhere. It gives him a certain thrill doing it places were you could easily get caught.

But he does prefer doing it in secluded places like the bedroom, or in the shower. Rather than in public. In his mind, getting caught in public = having to stop sooner.

M = Motivation

(what turns them on, gets them going…)

Baby can pop a boner easily… You could be doing the simplest thing, stretching? Boner. Cleaning? Boner. Just talk to him In general? BONER ALERT!!!

And when he’s deep in you, and you’re making just the cutest little whimpers and moans? He’s not gonna stop as long as you keep that up.

N = Nuh uh

(something they wouldn't do, turn offs…)

Pls do not call him daddy, it makes him feel weird. And he’s not into spanking. No matter how much you say it’s okay. He doesn’t see what’s so enticing and sexy about hitting or harming a loved one.

O = Oral

(preference in giving or receiving…)

It’s 50/50 with him.

On one hand, he likes going down on you. Eating away at your messy cunt. AND WHEN HE DOES…

God does it feel good, he’s got snake bites and a tongue piercing. Feeling the metal studs against your heat is just automatically orgasmic.

“F-fuuckk, I-I think s-she luh-likes me.”

If you cum fast on his face it deffo gives him an ego boost… FEED HIS EGO!!

But he also loves when you’re sucking him off. Your pretty lips wrapped around him… how couldn’t he love it?

“Y-you can t-take wayyy more t-then that.”

He’ll stroke your hair, as he tries his best to refrain from head pushing. He’d hate if he accidentally harmed his good girl…

Р = Расе

(are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

He’ll start off slow, letting you adjust. But as time goes on he’ll just work himself up and hammer into you at an unbelievable speed.

Q = Quickie

(their opinions on quickies, how often they may occur…)

He prefers longer sessions so he can please the both of you. But, if he’s desperate… and you guys got places to be… It wouldn’t hurt rutting into you, right?

R = Risk

(are they game to experiment? do they take risks?)

Barebacking. Toby claims that wearing a condom is suffocating. Even though he can’t feel things like that… Good thing he doesn’t have a weak pull out game.

Public sex. He has a weird fantasy that he doesn’t stop, even when he hears someone coming. A part of him wants to make the poor person who stumbled upon you two watch as he fills you up.

S = Stamina

(how many rounds can they go for/how long do they last?)

He’s got a super high libido, and can last about 3 rounds in bed, and at least 2 rounds in the shower afterwards.

And that’s only if he isn’t putting in his best effort…

T = Toys

(do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or on themselves?)

He doesn’t have any for himself, but he has a small white vibrator he uses to tease your clit and nipples.

U = Unfair

(how much they like to tease? And can they handle teasing?)

He can only tease you for a little bit before he gets too desperate and has to take you the second it gets a little too much.

He himself can also be teased for so long… Before he takes matters into his own hands, and you teasing completely backfires on yourself.

V = Volume

(how vocal are they doing the deed...)

HE IS NOISY!!

As he’s snapping his hips to yours, he’s babbling some random shit.

“S-so t-tight!”

“God… y-you love i-it like th-this, don’t cha?”

“Shit! Y-you’re c-clenc-ching!”

Half the time you can’t even make out what he’s saying. Other than that he just grunts and groans. ALMOST growling.

And bro WILL be speaking German too, it slips out sometimes.

W = Waking up afterwards

(how they are after waking up)

Though he can’t feel it, his muscles are slightly sore from pushing himself a bit too hard.

Besides that he’s gonna make sure you’re okay after the whole thing. And if you don’t wake up, he’ll just opt to fall back asleep snuggling into your chest.

X = X-ray

(let's see what's going on under those clothes(¬‿¬))

A surprising 6 inch, though not that girthy. Makes up for it in hitting ALL the right places. The tip gets redder depending on how worked up he is, leaning slightly to the left. With a vain running up it’s right side.

Y = Yearning

(how high is their sex drive?)

Bro is ABUSING The Operator strength, he can last for god knows how long. Without any breaks. He can go at it with you like a rabbit in heat.

Z = Zzz

(how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He won’t fall asleep until he knows you’re completely comfortable and content with what happened.

He doesn’t mean to be creepy, but he’ll watch you sleep for a while. In case something comes up afterwards.

But once he’s asleep, he’s knocked out cold for the next few hours…

[cherriegyuu]

midnight rain | lsm

pairing: seokmin x f!reader genre: angst, smut, a little bit of fluff word count: 17k summary: after seven years away, you finally return home. meeting seokmin again wasn't in your plans, but life wasn't willing to let you have it your way. warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, oral, swearing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this) a/n: this is part of 1k event, it was requested the dearest @ressonancee. but also, it's part of svt ans songs from midnights. i just wrote two in one and something that was supposed to be short became this monster. i hope i wrote seokmin in a way you'll like it. prompt: “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do." Seokmin ➝ Midnight Rain He was sunshine, I was midnight rain ↳ it was the oldest story in the world, the bright boy fell for the grumpy girl.

Letter #1

Seokmin,

You know, I've always been very proud of not being a very attached person. I've always been proud that I can put myself first and second, because I know I need to do it, because I know that no one else will do it for me. So, when I came here and dropped everything I had, I thought it would be a lot easier than it actually is.

When I turn around in bed at night, after days of trying to get used to the time zone and weeks to the weather and the people here — which are both bad and for completely different reasons, nothing is like in the movies — I always hope to find you there by my side and being able to snuggle up to you like I always did. I wake up in the morning and make enough coffee for two people and take two mugs out of the cupboard, and only then do I realize I'm alone here. I don't need two mugs and I made too much coffee. Sometimes, in the middle of the day, I find myself typing your number, which I have memorized despite the fact that no one remembers phone numbers, because phones exist for a reason.

You have no idea how much I miss you and what I would do to be able to hear your voice again. I would do anything, I swear I could. But I know I no longer have that right. I know that what I did is unforgivable and although I want your forgiveness, I hope you never forget what I did to you.

You were still good to me on the last day. You took me to the airport, you said goodbye to me, you hugged me tight like you know I like it and you did your best not to shed a tear in front of me.

Every now and then I catch myself thinking that I messed up. I could have done my master's where we graduated, I didn't need to move to the other side of the world and leave the life I knew behind. But at the same time, I accept it. Coming here was my dream, it was always what I dreamed of even when you were by my side as well. And maybe that's why I never told you about the application, about being approved. Maybe I waited until the end, until the very last second to tell you because I knew you were the only one capable of changing my mind.

When I was by your side, I started to dream of a different life, a life that had you at all times and in all aspects. But, as you may have already noticed, I chose my first dream.

I know I won't regret it. I can't afford to regret it. You’ll become who you always wanted to be and I’ll be there to give you a standing ovation. Not there, next to you, but from afar.

yn 

“That was Sunday Morning, by Hong Joshua. Ah, whenever I hear this song I remember my college days. I've said this here a few times, and I think I sound like a broken record by this point, but Joshua and I went to the same college and he was always singing this song in the hallways. Any small gathering between friends he would pull out the guitar and sing. So I'm sorry, but you're going to have to listen to this song at least once a week for the next year. Or until he releases the next one.”

Seokmin looked at the monitor to his right as a pre-recorded commercial for the next show started. The comments were going up too quickly, which made reading them an almost impossible mission.

On the other side of the glass, Chan made a sign indicating that the commercial was over. Seokmin looked at his friend as he lowered one finger after another and finally pointed at him. Chan placed a sheet of paper, which was always used, against the glass, which said “last, chat”. Indicating that he still had one more question to answer.

“We have time for one more question” Seokmin said, opening the internal chat he used with the other radio employees and read the question that Chan had sent “I ended a relationship of almost four years a few months ago, but I still can't understand what happened. I haven't even returned his things yet. How do I get in touch saying I want to return it?”

Seokmin swallowed. He knew that Chan hadn't done it on purpose, that he had no way of knowing everything that had happened between him and you, but he hated how much the question resonated in his head. It was a feeling he shared and for him it had been a little worse because you lived together during your last year of college. So when he entered the house and saw all the furniture, the decorations, your clothes still in the closet, it was like entering a time machine. In that 30 square meter space, for a few minutes, you still hadn't left.

He took a deep breath, away from the microphone so the sound wouldn't be picked, and leaned forward.

“It's a difficult question, really. If it's been a few months and he still hasn't picked his things up, it's because he doesn't need them, so I don't think you should bother contacting him. Hmmm”

He bit his lip and rested his elbows on the table, thinking if he should continue talking or if it would be better to stop there. Seokmin always thought it was better not to let personal feelings show on the radio, but he had moments when he couldn't follow his own rules.

“I can tell you from experience that sometimes silence is better. Because if you know the truth, it could hurt you even more. When I was in a similar situation, after a while I simply discarded the person's belongings. At first, it will be difficult, because you’ll see that shirt you gave as a gift, that letter you wrote and remember what it meant, the moment you gave those things to him. But little by little you will achieve it. Don't feel obligated to just move on when you're not ready. People will always tell you that it's about time, that it's been so many weeks or months. You’re the one who knows about your feelings.”

Chan knocked on the glass again, almost desperate because Seokmin's answer had been too long. It wasn't the first time he had gotten lost in what he was saying and maybe had been talking in circles. It always happened that he remembered you when he answered a question.

And in that specific question he was being a hypocrite because he knew that if he opened his closet, deep inside it, he would find at least two boxes full of your things hidden. He rarely went near those boxes, he liked to pretend they didn't exist and most days he managed to achieve that thought. But there were other days…

“So we come to the end of another Cupid's Corner with Minnie. See you again next week. Cupid’s Corner with Minnie: Unveiling Love’s Melody, One Relationship at a Time!”

Seokmin removed his headphones, stood up, and waved at the cameras he knew were pointed at him. He grabbed his phone and the bottle of water he always carried with him. The red light above the door finally went out and Seokmin left the studio.

Immediately, Chan appeared beside him. He had just gone blond, and it strangely suited him.

He knew the youngest was desperate, not that he was doing a good job of hiding it. The disheveled hair, pointing in all directions, also helped a lot.

“You’re going to have a heart attack if you continue like this” Seokmin said laughing.

Chan was the newest employee, handpicked by Seokmin a few months before. Seokmin needed someone to help him organize the broadcasts after his previous assistant quit because she had gotten a job in the field she had studied. Seokmin even talked to her and offered a higher salary that would come out of his own pocket, but nothing seemed to help. Not that he blamed her, in her place he would have done the same thing. But in the position he was in, changes made him uncomfortable so he did what he could to make sure everything stayed the same.

Maybe it was trauma.

“It’s because they yell at me, not you.”

One of the reasons Seokmin chose Chan as his new assistant was his sincerity. In the middle of the interview he “I think there are things in your program that need to change” and started listing things that he thought were dated or ideas that had been used too much and therefore didn't have the same effect on listeners. The others had found him presumptuous as if he wanted to know more than those who worked at the radio. Seokmin disagreed and that's how Chan got the job.

“They yell at you because you’re the new guy, no one yelled at Jiah”

Chan made a sound in the back of his throat, like a scoff.

“That's because everyone was afraid of her” Seokmin rolled his eyes and reached for the folder Chan was carrying “Oh, right. Tomorrow is your lecture for the communication classes, but they said it is possible that students from other courses will also be there, because it’llll be in the auditorium”

Seokmin nodded, reading the guidelines Chan had made. He needed to admit that he was organized and had absolute control over everything he did. He was sure that if he asked about Wonwoo's program, Chan would know how to answer as if he worked directly with him.

“You know how it is, I have fans” Chan pretended to vomit “If you go tomorrow, we’ll go out to dinner later, I’ll pay”

"Deal"

Seokmin always found it strange to be called to give lectures at the college where he studied. He wasn't a teacher and he didn't think he had done enough to be someone who could give advice to someone. In fact, Seokmin was sure he hadn't done anything big. His life, to put it very simply, was flat. At least, almost all of his life.

Seokmin has always been the type of guy who makes plans and follows through on those plans. When he was sixteen he got it into his head that he wanted to work in radio. It wasn't without reasons, of course. He joined the school radio and despite doing very little, because the school director had to know everything that would be done, even the nouns he would use in the sentence, he fell in love with the idea. That's why he decided he should study journalism in college, that way even if his radio career didn't work out, he would still have a profession.

But his dream was to work on a radio, to have his own program. So that's what he did.

He entered college as planned, sunk into student debt, and graduated exactly as he had planned. In his last semester, he got an internship at the biggest radio station in the country. He was on cloud nine. It was as if he had received the green light in life and everything was on the right track.

At least that's what he thought. At least that was what he had forced himself to believe. The internship became a permanent position and one day he just happened to be in the right place at the right time. That's why he never felt prepared to give anyone advice. Despite having decided on the career he wanted to pursue, he knew that he also needed to count on a little luck and help. The only words he could offer were “you work hard, study, make contacts, and throw the rest into luck’s hands”. It wasn't the kind of thing he wanted to hear when he was a student looking forward to the future, so he certainly wouldn't say it to anyone.

However, Chan convinced him that it would be a good idea to give the talk.

“You’re going to tell me how you got here, that’s all. An unknown face who quickly went on air to cover someone for one of the most beloved radio broadcasters in the country. I'm sure if you say that shit fell on your head, they'll like it” Chan had said laughing.

Overall the lecture went very well. Better than expected. He answered the questions as honestly as possible and used his best smile to get rid of the more awkward questions.

Despite the good day, he knew he didn't want to repeat the dose anytime soon.

“They want to know if you would be willing to do one of these a semester” Chan whispered because he knew the answer Seokmin would give, so it was better for the students not to hear.

“No” was all Seokmin said “But I’ll still buy you dinner”

Chan punched the air in celebration, catching the eyes of those around him, but he seemed to care very little.

"I just…"

What Seokmin was about to say, an announcement that he needed to go to the bathroom, died in his throat as he looked straight ahead.

Letter #2

Seokmin,

I thought I would be able to adapt faster here. It was very hard in the beginning with transport, getting around in general was very difficult. So I chose a weekend and went walking around the neighborhood where I live. I don't know how long I'll stay here, but I thought I should check it out. Besides, I can wake up in the middle of the night and decide that I want to eat something that I don't have at home, so it's good to know if there are any stores or markets that open in the middle of the night (in this neighborhood there aren't any, maybe that's why I won’t stay here).

I discovered that going out there, although productive, wasn't such a good idea. Nothing wrong happened, I didn't get hit on or someone was rude to me. Quite the contrary, most people pretended they weren't even seeing me. The problem was that everything made me think about you.

I walked by the store that sold a lot of random old things and decided to go in. You know I love filling the house with trinkets. I didn't find anything there that I liked, but I saw that they were selling camera films. For a moment I forgot everything that had happened and all I could think was, I think Seokmin is running out of film, I need to buy more because he will only realize when he doesn't have any left.

I bought it and brought it to the apartment. I opened the door and called your name. It was only later, when I noticed where I was, that it wasn't our apartment, that I realized what I had done.

Even without meaning to, even when I try not to, I find myself looking for you. Everywhere. I go to a restaurant and think about what you would like to eat, I see a dog on the street and I imagine you bending down to pet it. It's not on purpose, I just can't help it. I try, but it's in vain.

I wonder if it will pass. Will this feeling that I succeeded in my career but ruined my personal life disappear or will I feel like this forever — or at least for a good few years?

yn.

It was as if all the air had been ripped from your lungs and there was no way in the world to get you to breathe.

Somehow, some way, Seokmin was standing in front of you, in the middle of the college hallway.

For a moment it was as if you had been transported back in time, to when you were still 22 years old. In another moment you would have simply run up to him and thrown yourself into his arms as if you hadn't spent the whole night clinging to him, as if you hadn't seen each other before classes, as if you hadn't shared the smallest space in the world on the subway for 20 minutes. And your body seemed to remember all of this, like some kind of muscle memory, because you felt like you were being projected forward. Towards him.

You thought Seokmin would talk to you, you were sure he would. But you saw the way his gaze changed, the way it went from complete surprise to a hard look, completely different from anything you had ever seen from him.

In your memory, Seokmin was always brilliant and was always willing to welcome everyone with open arms, even when he felt more shy. You didn’t understand, that look he gave you was completely different from what you imagined could happen.

When you made the decision to return, you knew that there was a possibility of meeting Seokmin, no matter how small it was. You didn't know if he was still friends with the same people, if he still kept in touch with them. You certainly hadn't kept in touch with anyone - except for the two times you talked to Joshua. The possibility existed, but being realistic you knew it was as big as winning the lottery.

Of all the places you thought you could find Seokmin, college was the last one and maybe that was even why you accepted the job. When you were taking the last tests, the ones that would say whether you would graduate at the end of the semester or not, Seokmin was categorical in saying that he would never set foot inside college again. So you thought it was a place he would never go, but there he was. And in your first week, when you needed everything to go well. Not to show that you were ready and that you could do the job, but to reassure yourself that you had made the right choice in accepting the job.

You didn't have time to decide whether to talk to him or not. Seokmin made the decision for both of you. He continued walking as if you weren't there, talking to the boy next to him, laughing. The only indication that he knew who you were was silent once and one that only you could distinguish.

He turned around and left as if nothing had happened.

Was it possible that only you had felt that way? That just your heart had decided it didn't know how to beat, as if a storm was raging inside your body?

You didn't have time to analyze what had just happened. You just forced yourself to take a deep breath and also keep walking as if those brief seconds weren't enough to make your entire world turn completely upside down.

Seokmin dragged his feet into the room, tripping over the rug at the foot of the bed. A curse came out of his mouth, followed by a burp. When he invited Chan to dinner he had no intention of ending the night drunk, being carried home like someone who had just had his first drink.

It had been years since he had gotten that bad and it was comical that the previous occasion was also connected to you.

The memory of leaving you at the airport, on a flight in the middle of the night, was still vivid in Seokmin's mind. Worse than that memory, was the one of you telling him that you had gotten a place in a master's degree on the other side of the world, 18 hours before leaving the country.

“I need to tell you something” you said as he pulled his coat over his head and patted his pockets, making sure he had grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone. He needed to leave as quickly as possible, he was already late.

Seokmin had plans to ask you to marry him. He had rented a house where you could spend the weekend, where it would be possible to see the stars. He had prepared himself, but he needed to leave right that second so he would have enough time to go to the house, get everything ready and come back to get you. The owner of the house would help him, since Seokmin decided that he wouldn't tell any of his friends because they might just ruin the surprise.

“I'm already late” he said, quickly looking at his watch. "Did something happen?"

He asked, noticing your already somewhat desperate look. He knew that whatever had happened couldn't be good.

To be honest, he had noticed that something was wrong a few weeks before, and for a while, he decided it would be better not to get into it too much. He knew you well enough to know that you would offer the information when you felt ready to do so. But thinking back on everything, he wished he had asked before, he wished he hadn't given you space, he wished he had forced you to talk to him sooner.

“I passed my master’s degree abroad”

Seokmin’s first reaction was to be happy for you. He knew how much you wanted that, that it was your dream. So he did what any boyfriend would do, he hugged you and congratulated you, told you that you had tried so hard and that they would be idiots not to accept you. The feeling was true and his smile was genuine. He was happy for you.

Knowing what he knew, every now and then Seokmin wondered if he would have done anything differently if he knew what the next words would be out of your mouth. He could have made a fuss, he could have begged you to stay, he could have offered to go with you. But at the time he didn't do any of that.

“I’m leaving today, I need to be at the airport at 11 pm”

Seokmin's ears rang deafeningly. It was as if he had been punched and needed to brace himself against something. The sofa was the closest piece of furniture.

He thought he heard it wrong, he wished he was dreaming, but all he had to do was look at you. It was true. It was as if a puzzle was being completed in Seokmin's mind. The way you had suddenly become distant, how every time he entered the room you hurried to change or close whatever you were looking at on the computer. He didn't even know you signed up. He imagined that you must have done some kind of test, some interview and he didn't even know anything about it.

He had no idea.

Had he been a bad boyfriend, someone who was so focused on making the long-awaited proposal that he had ignored everything else? Or had you hidden it so well that he hadn't noticed?

"What? You’re leaving today?"

It was like the world was spinning too fast and he was trying to keep up with what was happening. It was like being on a roller coaster that kept on falling. He remembered well how the little box with the ring he had carefully chosen weighed in his pocket.

“I didn’t even know you had applied for a position” he whispered, almost just to himself “You didn’t tell me”

And it was at that exact moment, when he looked at you, that Seokmin realized that your relationship was over. You avoided looking at him, your hands were buried deep in the pockets of your coat, which was his. He saw your eyes fill with tears, you swallow hard, and remain silent.

It was unlike you, to stay quiet when you had too many things going through your head. He desperately wanted you to talk to him, to tell him what had been going through your head. He just wanted to understand. Did you believe he would somehow stop you from going? If there was one thing he knew about you, it was the fact that you always put your education first. It wasn't a secret and you didn't want it to be. He just didn't expect things to happen that way.

Seokmin sat in front of the closet, on the floor, and with difficulty opened the doors. Deep in the back, behind several shoe boxes, were two old boxes that he hadn't moved in years. Part of him wished the things inside the boxes were ruined, that they had mold and anything else that could ruin its content. But he had been careful, kept everything in order, taken all necessary precautions, and cleaned the closet periodically.

He ignored the first box and pulled the smaller one towards him, placing it on his bent legs. Seokmin wasn't one to revisit those memories, he liked to keep them as far away from him as possible, but on nights like those, it was impossible.

Seokmin knew what he would find and was sure how he would feel, but he still took the lid off the box, but he didn't dare take out any of the items inside it.

He knew he had reached his lowest point when he was holding on to memories he had of you and not focusing on what was actually happening in his life.

Letter #3

Seokmin,

I talked to Joshua today. Talk is a bit too strong of a word. We exchanged a few words on Instagram. He posted a photo and I liked it, he sent me a DM asking if I was ok and how things were going. I lied, of course. He said everything was fine and he was happy. He didn't talk about you and I didn't ask.

It was very hard to contain myself. I want to know how you are. The more selfish part of my brain wants you to be just as bad as I feel. You know that little demon that sits on our shoulder? He assures me you're even worse. And I hate to think that's the case, but at the same time, I'm sure you're not okay. I know you, we dated for four years, we lived together for almost two years

You were always the more emotional one of the two of us. You were never afraid to show your feelings, not for me or anyone else. You always loved so openly, without any fear. I admit that at first, it scared me a little.

I was an 18-year-old girl who came from a family that had no idea how to show affection, so I was always more reserved in that aspect. And there you were with your beautiful, bright smile, with open arms, affectionate with anyone who came along. I thought you were a crazy person who didn't have the slightest notion of the world. It took a while for me to realize that your world was brighter than mine in ways I couldn't understand.

You were always so untethered, free, showing yourself to anyone who had eyes. When I was closed and more reclusive, you were open and expansive. When I was very shy or reserved, you were more charming and brighter than usual. Not even my worst mood, which seemed endless at times, was a problem for you.

One day you just showed up and decided that you would stay by my side, no matter what. Believe me when I say, I tried to push you away. But with each passing day you were further under my skin.

A kiss at a random party turned into a date at every party, parties became meetings at the college library, which led to coffee dates. One day you decided at the end of each date you had to take me back to the dorms and you kissed me for a long time on the side of the building where no one could see — or at least I made myself believe no one did. Then that alone wasn't enough and you were always with your fingers intertwined with mine, or your arm around my waist. And kisses were no longer reserved for empty streets, of course not. You kissed me anywhere, anytime, no matter who was watching.

You were sneaky, Seokmin.

When I realized it, I was in love with you. Your arms were my refuge. You were my safe space. My home.

yn.

You hated that Seokmin’s reaction, or lack thereof, had gotten to you so much. It was like being punched, and then one more, soon the punch became a beating and to finish with a flourish, it was as if a truck had run over you.

You had plans to go out at the weekend, though alone. Everything was so different, the places you knew no longer existed and friends from the past no longer spoke to you. You would have to rediscover the city without anyone's help. Despite your plans, you couldn't bring yourself to leave the house.

When you decided to return, you knew there would be no way to escape Seokmin. He had become successful not only in his career as a broadcaster but also as a celebrity of sorts. You never imagined you would see his face in magazines or on billboards selling fried chicken. You didn't expect that when you turned on the TV you would see his face in different programs.

In fact, you knew all of that was happening, but somehow you managed to convince yourself that you wouldn't have to see any of it. You managed to make yourself believe that you would not be haunted by his images and voice.

When you were away, you always listened to his programs, more than once each one, but it was almost like a relationship between fan and celebrity. You could separate very well what was him and what was you. But being there, in the same country, in the same city, it was much more difficult to make that separation.

Because once you were back, Seokmin was no longer just the radio host with a show about relationships. Far from it. Seokmin was your college sweetheart, the guy whose heart you broke but who, even after seven years, was still in love with.

That was the reality. you were still in love with him. There was no relationship in the world, no man in the world, that would have made you forget about Seokmin. Sometimes it worked, sometimes you managed to forget about him for a few months and that feeling of loss, of emptiness, that had settled deep inside your heart became smaller and smaller. And then it would come back full on as if it had never left.

Maybe that was your curse, your punishment for leaving behind someone you could have spent the rest of your life with. And somehow you knew you would have been happy. Or at least a different kind of happiness.

After spending the weekend holed up inside your apartment, after convincing yourself that you needed to prepare for teaching classes and unpacking the move, she decided that on Tuesday night she would explore the city.

Exploring wasn't the right word. You had discovered that one of your favorite restaurants still existed, it had just changed location. And, despite being on the other side of the city and being completely aware that you would have to pay a fortune for a taxi or risk taking the subway alone almost at closing time, you decided to go anyway.

You needed to feel like one thing hadn't changed, or at least still be recognizable.

You heard your name being called a few minutes after sitting down. You raised your head, recognizing the voice, but couldn't tell who it belonged to. Directly in front of you was a woman, with short hair, in her fifties.

“It’s really you!”

You stood up and a second later you were being hugged. Maybe you had gone there for that reason, knowing that there would be someone there who would recognize you. Or at least you hoped there was. And when you were welcomed with open arms by her owner, Niah, you wanted to cry for the first time in a long time.

“Hi” was all you could offer, your voice weak.

You quickly turned your face away, trying to be discreet as you wiped away your tears. The last thing you wanted was to cry in front of someone else. Tears were reserved for dark moments in the silence of your apartment, they weren't meant to be seen by people you didn't even know in a crowded restaurant.

“Look how beautiful you look. You haven't been around for so long. Seokmin told us that you had gone abroad to study, but I thought you would come back sooner.”

You just managed to smile, even though it was embarrassing. It was strange to hear his name coming out of someone else's mouth so easily. For years, his name was just an echo in your own mind, almost as if it were a fantasy of yours.

There were days when you managed to convince yourself of this, that Seokmin was nothing more than a dream.

“Are you just visiting or are you back to stay?”

“I'm staying” you said after a second, when you managed to find your voice again “I got a job here, I have nowhere to run”

Niah laughed and hugged you once again, tighter this time.

"Great, that makes me happy. We always miss you” Niah smiled and ran her fingers down your cheeks, brushing away some tears that were stubborn to fall “What do you want to eat? Today it's on the house. Consider it a welcome gift.”

You took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in your throat and the remaining tears.

"What do you recommend?"

The amazing thing about meeting Niah again was that she still acted exactly the same way. She didn't see you as someone who had simply packed a suitcase of clothes and left the country overnight. To Niah you were still that same person from 7 years ago who ate whatever she put in front of. You and Seokmin were always guinea pigs for all the new recipes.

The food was still wonderful, if anything it had just gotten better.

You had a fork halfway to your mouth when you heard the door open, the sound of the bell indicating the entry of a new customer. You almost instinctively turned to look. You choked on your own saliva when your eyes met Seokmin's.

It was as if you were back in the hallway that day. Your heart simply stopped, and the world fell into suspension. For a moment, it was as if you had been transported to the past. You were almost certain that if you looked at the table you would see books open next to the cutlery; you knew that if you looked at Seokmin for another second or two his face would break into the most beautiful smile, he would wave and call your name.

But your illusion shattered into small pieces as his neutral expression contorted into a frown. With the same foot he entered he turned to leave.

“Seokmin!” you called him, getting up from your chair.

Part of you thought he was going to continue out the door, but he stopped. Half of his body was outside the restaurant, the other inside.

“Hurry up and close that door!” Niah said leaving the kitchen “You’re letting out all the heat”

Even with Niah's voice calling him, Seokmin remained standing at the door. You sat back down, but without taking your eyes off him. He didn't know what he expected of him, but he felt an indescribable relief when Niah pulled him by the sleeve of his coat and forced him to sit in front of you.

“The restaurant is packed, so you will have to share a table” she said as she turned her back.

Seokmin shook his head, clearly against sitting there, staying in the restaurant, but he still took off his coat and hung it on the chair before leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

It was clear he was working out, his shoulders had gotten broader and his arms bigger since you last saw each other. You almost laughed at the pose, remembering all the times you had seen him in a similar situation. But this wasn't the time to laugh when everything else was screaming that he was uncomfortable with the situation, that he didn't want to be there.

It didn't take a genius to know that Seokmin wanted nothing to do with you. His reaction to seeing you in the hallway the week before and the way he was looking at you in that moment were enough answers.

You felt like the walls were closing in around you and there wasn't enough air in the room.

What were you thinking when you called his name? What were you thinking when you silently watched Niah pull him inside? Why were you still sitting there?

A waiter who worked with Niah passed by your table and you called him discreetly, not wanting to attract the attention of the restaurant owner.

“Can you wrap everything to go, please?” you turned to Seokmin “You can have the table. I was already leaving”

It was a lie, but he didn't need to know that.

Seokmin laughed lowly, scornfully, his sideways smile making the hair on your arms stand on end. In general, Seokmin has always been the type of guy who didn’t lose his cool easily, who would always rather let things go than have any kind of confrontation. But when he really got stressed out or nervous, it took a while for him to calm down again.

You had seen that storm in his eyes very few times in the years you spent together. The last one was when he went to the airport to say goodbye to you. That day the storm was just confusion and pain, you knew you had done that to him. But he sat there in the restaurant, in front of you, in silence while the people around him chatted animatedly, completely oblivious to what was happening between the two of you.

"What it was?" you rolled your eyes.

“Ah, nothing” he said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture “It’s just like you to do that”

You narrowed your eyes at the same time you felt your cheeks get hot.

"Do what?"

"Runaway"

Letter #4

Seokmin, 

It took me almost a year to convince myself that it was okay for me to look at social media. I convinced myself that every woman does this, that every now and then we look at our ex-boyfriend's Instagram, just to find out if his new girlfriend is ugly. I've told you this several times, but every female experience is universal.

I wish you were one of those low profile people, who post a picture every 6 months and it's a cut mango on a pretty plate. I wish you hadn't posted so many pictures. But more than anything, I wish I hadn't spent hours and hours looking at the photos. I wish I hadn't been analyzing every photo of you, I wish I hadn't thought “that's a new mole” and wondered which others had appeared since the last time we saw each other.

I had memorized every mole of yours. On your face, on your arms, on your back. On the worst days, when I missed you in a way that almost made me give up everything and go home, I kept remembering each one of them. I tried to remember the sound of your laugh, your voice, how you stroked my hair until I fell asleep when it wasn't a good day.

I keep wondering if one day this feeling will just go away.

It's been a year since I left. I went out with other guys, and I almost dated one of them, but you're always there in the back of my mind, almost comically because even against my will I can't help but compare them to you. I can't help but think that only you know how I like my coffee, how only you know that if I'm in my worst mood, there's no joke in the world that can make me laugh.

I know it's not fair to them. I gave you the chance to get to know me, I allowed you to get closer. I wanted you to come closer to me. Now I wonder if you're doing this for someone other than me.

I like to imagine that you also compare other women to me, that even now that you're dating I stay there, in the back of your mind, making fun of you.

Unfortunately, she's not ugly, but your smile was brighter when I was next to you.

yn.

To say that Seokmin had spent the rest of the week in an envious mood was an understatement. He was stressed and everyone around him soon noticed the change. He really tried not to let his personal life get in the way of his work. It was something he never struggled with. Work was work, what happened when the lights went out and he left the radio should never cross paths with each other. That week, however, it was impossible.

Meeting you at the restaurant caught him off guard. That day in the college hallway had been difficult, but he managed to just keep walking as if nothing had happened. He liked to pretend like he hadn't gone out with Chan right after and drank like there was no tomorrow, like he hadn't opened the boxes he had kept for years and cried while looking at the photos of the two of you together.

He had gone to the restaurant that day because he needed some form of comfort and didn't want to call any of his friends because he knew he would end up telling them everything that happened and would receive advice and words he would rather not hear. The restaurant was the best idea he had. Or maybe the worst possible one.

Maybe he had done it consciously, because he wanted to see you one more time, and wanted to make sure he hadn't imagined you. It wouldn't have been the first time.

In the first few months after you left, Seokmin got into the habit of visiting places he went with you, or places you liked to go alone. It was probably a form of torture, but he liked to imagine it was a way to forget and overcome the breakup. On several of those days, he believed he saw you. He realistically knew it wasn't you, he clearly remembered seeing you get on the plane and waited until it took off to leave the airport.

The worst thing that could have happened to him was you calling for him. Seokmin couldn't help but wonder if he had always reacted that way to you, if your presence was always so great that before he even saw you he knew you were nearby. That day, as soon as he opened the door, before he even saw you sitting there with your eyes wide open, he knew. He knew you were there.

The last thing he expected from you was you saying his name, as if asking him to sit with you, that Niah, knowing how the relationship had ended, would have made him sit in front of you.

Seokmin noticed your discomfort, the way your spine had become a little straighter, the way your eyes were hard and cautious at the same time. Your reaction made him angry. What right did you have to behave that way, as if you were hurt when all the decisions regarding a relationship both of you were in had been made by you?

You were the one who signed up for a master's degree abroad. It was you who never told him about your decision. It was you who kept everything secret, making him believe that the two of you were on the same page and that despite your different goals, you would be able to pursue them together.

Turns out he was wrong, those dreams were just his and didn't include him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Chan asked for the thousandth time.

For the first time in a long time, Seokmin was having a hard time hiding how he really felt. That polished, carefully carved mask had fallen. It was a completely atypical day and everyone was able to notice his sudden change in mood. Even Chan, who normally did a great job of ignoring all the problems around him and focusing solely on his work, seemed to be walking on eggshells around him.

“It’s really obvious, isn’t it?” Seokmin asked in a low voice and Chan just nodded "And if I pretend it's because of the new segment, will anyone believe it?"

Again, Chan nodded. Since he had started the program, 3 years before, Seokmin would receive calls and speak directly to listeners. Although there were always interactions, those were always done through live chat and email when he received questions or stories from people who were not listening to the program when it was airing.

Seokmin wasn't nervous about the idea, he was actually excited. Chan knew this and knew that whatever the problem was, it was still the same as the day of the lecture. He didn't want to ask, and he didn't want to seem invasive, but he still wanted to make sure Seokmin was okay — or at least, well enough to do the program.

“I think everyone is already thinking that” was a lie and even Seokmin knew it, but he was grateful.

“You may already know this, but today we will start a new segment. We'll call it the heart to heart helpline, at least until we find a better name at least” Seokmin's voice and laugh resonated through the taxi “We'll take your calls and some of you will be able to talk to me and ask your questions live, instead of by chat. Each person will have a maximum of 2 minutes and we will answer 6 calls today”

You had left the house completely willing to avoid anything related to Seokmin. Realistically, you knew you couldn't do anything about the billboards and his face at bus stops, but you could very well avoid his radio show. And for a few weeks you had managed to do just that.

That day at the restaurant had almost been a cathartic moment. Somehow, it was as if something had clicked and fallen into place. The Seokmin you left behind no longer existed. It had been a naive thought to think so. You didn't expect that he would still be exactly the same person, of course not. Seven years had passed and Seokmin, like you, was approaching his thirties. Obviously, many things had changed, but you still expected to see traces of that 22-year-old boy you had known and loved.

You didn't spend more than five minutes with him at that table. And it was much more than enough. He had accused you of running away, of continuing to do this for years. Of course, that could be his view on everything, but it was never your intention. The only problem was that you hadn't been able to tell him those things. You had been so lost and so completely helpless in front of him that you had forgotten that you knew how to speak and form sentences.

You had spent years of your life writing letters to him, letters that he would never read, but that was beside the point. You wrote letters as a way to appease the emptiness you felt in your heart. You never, not for a second, thought you were running away. You never wanted to run away, but Seokmin seemed to believe you did.

In a sudden burst of anger, you took your phone out of your bag and dialed the number Seokmin spoke on the radio. You didn't expect your call to go through. In fact, you didn't even know what you expected.

“Please wait a minute, we will connect your call” a non-robotic voice said as you paid for the taxi.

Seokmin was still chatting animatedly with a listener who didn't have a real question, but who “just wanted to say that I really liked your show and that I’m a fan.” It was impossible not to roll your eyes. If she, and everyone else, knew how much of a complete asshole he could be just because he had the opportunity, they would never want to see his face again.

Or maybe they would team up against you in favor of the immaculate Seokmin. God knew how easily a man could turn public opinion in his favor with a beautiful smile. And God was also a witness that Seokmin's smile was simply wonderful, one that took your breath away, one that made you smile along because it was contagious.

“Welcome to the heart to heart helpline” Seokmin’s voice sounded in your ear “What’s your question?”

You didn't really think that your call would get through to Seokmin, you didn't think the signal would be good enough inside the elevator, but none of that seemed to be a problem.

“Hello, can you hear me?” he asked.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You knew you were going really crazy, but you decided to throw caution out the window and be the crazy person everyone used to believe you were.

“Yes, I’m here” you could have sworn, that even over the phone, you felt Seokmin tense up “It’s a question about an old relationship, we broke up years ago, if that’s okay”

You struggled with your keys, trying to unlock the door as quickly as possible. You needed to get to your computer or tablet, whichever was closer. It was almost a physical necessity to see Seokmin's reaction to your voice, your question.

You always knew how to tell if he was truly calm or if he was masking what he was feeling. You wanted to know if you still had any other sort of effect on him. Whatever it was, it was better than angry disdain.

“Old relationships should stay in the past, don’t you think?” he finally said.

You nodded as you ran into your room. You knew you would find the tablet under your pillow — you were sure that if your mother saw it she would say that your brain would explode due to the radiation from the device. With a few taps, you opened the stream of Seokmin's program.

“I think so. But the problem is that we keep seeing each other. I don’t think it’s something either of us want, but it seems inevitable.”

You turned the sound off, you just wanted to focus on his reactions. Seokmin swallowed hard, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes fixed on the microphone in front of him. To anyone, it just seemed like he was concentrating on the call, on what the person on the other end of the line had to say, but you knew very well that it was to hide his reactions.

"Your question?"

“Well, he called me selfish and said I ran away when we broke up, but that's not exactly what happened. I wanted to talk to him, but I don’t think he wants to listen to me.”

Seokmin took a deep breath and seemed to think about what to say next, his eyes no longer on the microphone, but on the ceiling.

“And why does he think that about you? You probably gave him reasons, don't you think? I don’t think anyone would think that about someone without anything having happened.”

“I always dreamed of studying abroad, so when the opportunity came, I went. I…"

“Did you tell him you were going?” Seokmin clenched his fists on the desk, his fingers gripped the pen in his hand tightly until his knuckles were white. “Did you give him a chance to say something or did you just walk away?”

You were speechless, eyes focused only on Seokmin. The way his hair perfectly framed his face, his sculpted thin nose. He was still exactly like he was seven years ago, just somehow different. He was the same, but he also wasn't.

You hadn't given him the chance to say anything, you had just walked away, but because you believed it was the best thing to do. You would have stayed if he had asked, I would have aborted all of your plans for him,

“Long distance relationships don’t work” you said finally, your voice lower “especially when there’s an ocean separating people”

“I'm going to guess and say that you were together for a while because I don't think anyone would care that much about a quick relationship” his voice became more sober, completely in control of his emotions, the opposite of what you felt,  like you were enclosed every second that passed “I agree with you, long-distance relationships don’t work. Different cities are already complicated, I can't imagine what it would be like to be with someone who lives in another country. You didn't give many details, but I believe he had reasons to feel that way, just as you had your reasons for leaving without warning. I think the best thing for both of you is to let it fall into oblivion. It makes no sense for either of you to dwell on these feelings. Maybe your desire to talk exists because you think you've left things open with him, but he may think that what's in the past shouldn't be remembered. Maybe you're just a bad relationship he wants to forget.”

Letter #5

Seokmin

I found out by chance that you now have your own radio show. One day it was an empty slot in the schedule and the next it was your voice. To my joy and delight, it was one of those programs that also had video streaming. I say joy and delight in a very ironic way.

But I'm not lying when I say I'm happy for you. You always said it was your dream and in a way, here we are, achieving our dreams. It would have been better if we could have lived through this together, I think. Maybe if that were the case I wouldn't have this empty feeling inside my chest.

But I discovered a long time ago that I can't keep crying over spilled milk. I left and you moved on with your life. They were conscious choices, I knew what I was doing. I knew that making this choice would have hurt both of us, but I also knew that we could overcome it. It's just taking longer than expected. I honestly thought that by this point, so many years later, we would have been able to live as if the past were just that, the past.

But it's not like that for me or for you.

I may be completely crazy, but your show is about love advice and how to deal with heartbreak. Sometimes, when I hear you talk, I'm sure you've already dealt with all your feelings, after all, you've had other girlfriends. But there are other moments, when you answer a question or when you read one of the pre-written texts when I'm sure that what you said applies directly to what we both had.

I'm going crazy, aren't I?

It's been four years since I left. I already finished my master's degree and started my PhD, exactly as planned. I have a date tonight with a guy who seems genuinely nice, but here I am, writing yet another letter that will never be sent to the guy I was in love with.

What am I still doing?

yn

Seokmin had always believed that for a relationship to truly end there must be no trace of it anywhere. When he told his listeners that they should get rid of items, it was not a lie. He was just terrible at following his own advice. The old story of do as I say, not as I do.

Finally, he decided it was time to take his own advice. With a little pain and resentment added to the mix, of course. At this point, he wondered if he could already be considered a masochist or if he still had a few boxes to tick to get the title.

Getting your address had been easier than expected. All he had to do was ask Niah, who offered the information without any resistance.

“Being thirty didn't make either of you any smarter,” she said as she leaned across the table and wrote the address on the napkin.

“Almost thirty” he felt the need to correct her, but decided he would ignore the hidden message in her words.

Seokmin never stopped going to Niah's restaurant. It was there that he had cried his sorrows over the cheapest drinks possible, he didn't have the money to pay for the good ones, while Joshua tried to console him. He had never seen Niah so stressed and angry. She hadn't said anything, but you could clearly hear the sound of her cutting the vegetables more aggressively than necessary.

Little by little she became calmer about the situation and started talking about you with the same affection as before. Seokmin always thought she had somehow kept in touch with you, or at least found a way to get your number or a way to contact you. At first, he had been angry, but somehow he believed he didn't have that right. It was only after a year that Seokmin decided to ask and the answer he received was “if I still had contact with her, I would have already screamed at her about disappearing without telling anyone”.

Asking Niah for your address was the only option he had. He refused to go to college, where you worked. He didn't know what would happen, whether you would be friendly with each other or the conversation would end in a shouting match just because. Because after years of no contact and considering the way things ended, it was pretty obvious that resentment could resurface — at least Seokmin had resentment up to his neck and knew that not releasing them all at once required almost inhuman self-control. 

He looked at the building one more time before getting out of the car. It was one of those without a doorman. Seokmin knew that if he rang and asked to be let in, the probability of being sent to hell was very high. So he pulled up his cap down and covered as much of his face as he could while he balanced the boxes on his arms.

He stood there like a madman for almost twenty minutes until someone finally left the building. Seokmin felt like he was committing a crime when he slipped through the door before it closed. Even though the feeling was strange he made himself believe it was the only option he had and he really didn't have any bad intentions. He just wanted to return your things and, hopefully, arrange that if you ever met again, you’d simply pretend you don't know each other, instead of talking nonsense to each other.

Seokmin took a deep breath once before knocking on the door. He heard footsteps and a second later the door opened.

When you imagined what your Wednesday night would be like, the only option that crossed your mind was to order a pizza and watch a movie — the random option of Netflix seemed like your best friend and the only possible option because you weren't even able to choose what to watch by yourself.

Not even in your wildest daydreams could you have imagined that Seokmin would show up at your door with two boxes in his hand.

You were partially tempted to close the door on his face, but you knew that doing so would only make the whole situation worse. If Seokmin, who clearly didn't have any good feelings about you, was standing there at your door it was because he had something to say. Or more precisely to hand it over to you, considering the boxes in his arms.

Silently you stepped aside so he had enough room to enter. You wanted to slap yourself for the complete war zone that your living room was in. You were still unpacking the moving boxes, not that you had taken much with you. It was too expensive to send things from one country to another, especially furniture. You had only focused on your clothes and books and a few things you wanted to keep, and that alone was more than you were willing to spend. In addition to the boxes, you had all the things you still had to buy, but you still didn't have the mind to do it.

You had so much going through your head that cleaning the apartment was just another task you wanted to avoid. But it was one that could be left for later. In the few minutes that Seokmin spent there, you wished you had tidied it up, that he hadn't seen how that room represented your life at that moment: a complete mess.

"What are you doing here?" you finally asked when you managed to get your vocal cords to work properly.

Seokmin didn't seem to care about the mess but paid attention to everything else around him.

He placed the boxes on the counter and took off his cap, pressing the brims with his fingertips looking for what to say next. He had rehearsed an almost poetic speech in the car, something about being adults and how your relationship had ended a long time ago, so neither of you should have any regrets left. But the moment you opened the door and looked at him it was as if all the words had simply evaporated from his mind, as if he had never learned to speak in the first place.

It had always been that way with you. Sometimes when he looked at you, even when you were still together, he got lost. He was like a man adrift who had finally found solid land. It was as if he heard a click and the world started to move once again.

One of his favorite things, when you were dating and living together, was being able to come home after an exhausting day and see you sitting on the sofa in the living room, your computer on your lap, while you studied, occasionally shouting profanities at the computer. On those days, Seokmin would simply push the computer away and lay his head on your lap.

“Just five minutes” he used to say with his eyes closed.

You’d laugh, fingers immediately running through his hair, as if it was the most natural movement in the world.

“Who do you want me to insult today? You know my vocabulary is very colorful.”

How many times had he slept in that position, without meaning to, and you had to drag him to bed because “it's comfortable for you, but my legs are numb and you have to take a shower, you won't sleep dirty next to me, sir”.

It was impossible not to wonder where it all went wrong.

“I came to return your things” he pointed at the boxes.

You suppressed the urge to bend down and rummage through the boxes. You wanted to know what he had kept, what he considered important enough to keep for so many years. You knew he no longer lived in the apartment you shared. When you were looking for apartments you saw that that one was up for rent. It was necessary to restrain yourself from choosing it. It wasn't a good apartment, at least not at the time — the photos on the website said the property had undergone renovations two years earlier and had no tenants since. It wasn't big, it barely fit one person, but it was what your extremely limited budget could afford at the time. Somehow you and Seokmin turned that small space into a home full of life. Of love.

In the places where you lived, you bought all kinds of trinkets to fill the space, furniture you didn't need and never used, hoping to imitate, for even a second, the feeling you had in that little 35 square meter apartment.

You never quite managed to do that.

“Thank you” you said sincerely “I thought all my things had gone in the trash”

You laughed and Seokmin squeezed the back of his head and pointed at the boxes.

“I sold what I could, I didn't want to put it in storage because I really thought we would never see each other again. The money is in an envelope”

“Why did you keep all this?” the words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself “You should have thrown it away or, since you sold it, you should have spent the money”

Seokmin had asked himself that question several times before, sober or not, and he never had an answer. After a while, he simply stopped questioning and accepted it as something he had to do, to have some kind of sanity. It didn’t. Knowing that those boxes were inside his wardrobe, having to go through them the two times he moved, only brought back memories that he would like to forget.

Ever since you had seen each other again for the first time, memories that Seokmin had struggled to bury came to the surface as if they had just happened. He started to dream about you, dreams that range from memories to things that never actually happened, he started to wonder if it would be okay to talk with someone. His brain always screamed NO, so he was stuck just dreaming.

“I don’t have a good enough reason. It is what it is, I guess,” he said.

The last time Seokmin felt so embarrassed around you was right when you met and even then it only lasted a few minutes. The 18 year old Seokmin was much braver than the 29 year old man in front of him.

That boy, without any guilt or remorse, would have asked every question that could cross his mind. You’d say “your mind is beautiful, it even echoes sometimes”. Seokmin wanted to still have some of that boy's strength. Maybe that was the only way to know what he wanted. He wouldn't ask and he knew you wouldn't offer the information to him without being pressured.

“I think in the end, we both got what we wanted.”

You realized you said the wrong thing when you looked at Seokmin’s hands. A second before he was clutching his cap until his knuckles turned white, the next his long fingers were still. You didn't want to see the expression on his face. You knew what you’d find. You messed up, but couldn’t take back what you said.

“You got what you wanted” Seokmin corrected you, his voice firm, his tone hard.

“You always wanted to have a radio show”

“No, I wanted you. I could adapt to everything else if it meant I would have you.”

You shook your head. You knew it wasn't true. Hell, even Seokmin knew it wasn’t true. The first time you talked, Seokmin mentioned how much he wanted to be a radio host and have his own show, of any kind. I don't have a preference, I know I can give anything my own colors. You felt envious of his certainty, of the way he knew he could do it.

“The show has always been your dream” you tried again, despite knowing it was in vain to argue with him.

“My dream was to have a life by your side. You never, not once, told me that you signed up to study abroad, you never even mentioned it. When it was time to go you just got on a plane and disappeared. You never even gave me the chance to follow you. I could have been a journalist anywhere in the world”

Seokmin hated the direction of that conversation, hated being so exposed in front of you after so many years. In the past, it wasn't a problem. Before he wanted to be exposed in front of you, he wanted to share everything he was, every aspect of himself with you. No more. The problem was that he couldn't just stop. A gate was opened and there was no way to close it.

“So, what? Would we both be living based on our dreams? Because this is a dream, and you know it very well.”

You clung to the top rail of the chair, your head lolling forward in an almost futile attempt to stop him from seeing the tears forming in your eyes. You knew you couldn't hold them.

You weren't the type of person who cried often, you did what you could to avoid it, but when the tears came it was impossible to simply stop them from falling.

“Yeah, maybe I was really dreaming, because I believed that you loved me in the same proportion, but it’s quite obvious that you didn’t”

Seven years of pent-up frustration couldn't just disappear, he should have known. He should have imagined that going there would be a problem, that being in the same space as you without any kind of interference was a mistake. But he was still there and there was no way to escape. It was better to end everything quickly than to keep those feelings for another seven years in the hopes of one day being able to say something.

Seokmin watched as you went to one of the boxes in the corner of the room and opened it forcefully, tearing the cardboard, and causing some of the contents to slide across the floor. He felt his body freeze as a roll of film stopped at his feet.

“So explain to me, why do I buy a roll of film every time I pass by a store?” you put both hands inside the box and took out several rolls of film, of different brands and models. “Explain to me, why have I followed your career all this time and never missed a damn show in the last 3 years? Why would I wake up in the middle of the night to watch the broadcast and then listen to the show again while going to work because I just wanted to hear your voice?”

You walked to another box, but you opened this one a little more carefully as if wanting to protect the contents.

“Why did I spend 7 years writing letters that would never be read to a guy I never loved?”

You threw several envelopes at Seokmin’s chest. Your face and body shook out of anger or another feeling he couldn't quite tell.

Seokmin bent down to pick up one of the envelopes from the floor. His name was written in your careful handwriting. He didn't need to look at all the other ones to know that they were also addressed to him. He didn't know how many letters were scattered on the floor, or if there were any left in the box. The only thing he was sure of was that he had no idea how to proceed.

“If that doesn’t say I loved you, if that doesn’t say I still love you, I don’t know what the fuck does.”

Seokmin saw the first tear run down your face and fell silent. He knew he should turn his back, he knew he should walk away, just like you did seven years before. Instead, he took four steps in your direction, his eyes never left your heaving chest and the tears that ran freely over your cheeks. 

At that moment he knew that he only had two options: he could turn around and leave, he gave you back your things that alone made his plan a success; or he could kiss you like he had been wanting to since the moment he saw you again.

To hell with his plan.

Seokmin held your face in his hands and pulled you to him, crashing his lips on yours. It was an all too new feeling but also familiar, almost like coming to a remodeled home. It was him and it was you, if only it was just that simple. 

You sighed into him, your arms wrapping around his slim waist while your hand balled a fist full of his shirt. There were so many moments where you wished you could be right in that spot, again in his arms. Dreams and daydreams, wishful thinking, whatever you could call it. Thoughts of Seokmin had always been a constant in your mind. It was impossible not to compare other people you went out with to him. 

Your longest relationship had been one of almost a full year. Although the beginning had been good and easy, with you somehow managing to avoid any and all Seokmin related dreams and thoughts, it turned sour the second he crossed your mind.

“Seokmin, I…”

He shook his head and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes so intense that it was difficult to keep looking at him. 

“Let’s not overthink it, okay?” was all he said. 

You held his face for a couple, searching for something in his features, anything at all, that could indicate that the moment wasn’t for that. But all you saw in him was the same emotions you felt, the same need and desire. 

You pulled Seokmin to you again, this time hungrier, your chest pressed to his. Your mind was loud telling you all the reasons why you shouldn’t be doing that, why having him so close to you was truly the most dangerous situation you could possibly put yourself in. But all of those voices, all of those words and thoughts were silenced the moment he kissed you again. 

His lips were hungry, demanding all of you. And it was so easy to just give in to him, to his hands roaming on your body, down your back until he reached your ass. He gave it a light squeeze and ran his hand back up again, this time under your shirt. You moaned softly at the contact of his skin on yours, as he kissed your neck, bitting on the exact same spot he found years before. 

He smiled over your skin. 

“At least this hasn’t changed”

It was all too much but not nearly enough. Just having him that close to you was dizzying enough but him touching you and enjoying the fact that you were just as weak for him at twenty nine made you never want to let go of him again.

“Where’s your room?”

You took Seokmin by the hand, guiding him through the narrow corridor. 

Your room was barely a room to begin with. You had no furniture except for the mattress lying on the floor, your clothes were either on the suitcase or on the chair on the side. 

“This is unlike you” Seokmin said, his chest pressed to your back while he nibbled on the skin of your neck. 

“I… hm… I” you sturred a little when he bit into a particularly sensitive spot, making him chuckle “I’m waiting on delivery”

Seokmin turned you around in his arms while lightly pushing you down on the mattress. His eyes never left yours as he ran his hand under your shirt, moving the fabric up until your chest was exposed. 

It had been so long since you had been with anyone, it was almost like a reflex to want to pull your shirt back down. Since him, it had been hard to just let yourself be exposed to someone like that. You had become awfully aware of your body and things you never cared for or paid attention to before suddenly became worries. You didn't like that insecure version of yourself but when Seokmin cupped your breast in his hand his touch was almost solemn. 

It was probably the worst timing in the world when you felt tears burn on the back of your eyes. You pulled his face to yours again, trying to hide your tears from him once again. 

Suddenly, his touch was tender when he pushed a few strands of hair away from your face, his fingers careful. 

Seokmin moved down on your body. When you saw his fingers on the waistband of shorts you lifted your hips off of the mattress to help him move the fabric down quicker. 

He kissed your hips and inner thigh. You moaned in anticipation, your hand taking a fist full of his soft hair. When his lips finally found your clit it was like fireworks erupted behind your closed eyelids.

Seokmin was impossibly hard in his pants, embarrassingly so like he was a teenager having his first time. 

He never thought that he would have you in his arms again and yet there you were in front of him, no reservations. Just for him. And for a moment it was like his brain was in short circuit, the small electric waves running all over his body, down to his toes. 

He licked a path from your cunt to your clit. He went down on you almost in desperation, his nose brushing on your clit every now and then. 

"Seokmin..." his name was barely a whisper in your lips, but it was also a chant. 

Your orgasm hits you quickly, leaving you short of air and with shaky legs. You were spiraling in the most enticing way possible. It didn't stop Seokmin though as he kept sucking you frantically. 

You tugged on his hair, pulling him up and to you again. 

I love you,  the words almost fell out of your lips. It would have been so easy to just say them, to be open about your feelings just this once. 

Deep down you knew that that moment would be a one time kind of thing. It was just the kind of moment people sometimes needed to just completely let go of everything. Or in this case, nothing. It was to let go of seven years of complete nothingness and silence.

You opened the button of his jeans and pushed it down, his boxers following along. You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping him a couple of times. Realization suddenly came over you. You never expected Seokmin to show up to your place, much less that it would lead to that moment, and there wasn't anyone else in your life, so you weren't ready for it. 

"I don't have a condom" you said breathlessly.

Seokmin looked lost for a second, his brain going to his wallet, questioning whether or not he had one in him. 

"I can pull out," he said "if that's okay"

All you did was nod and Seokmin aligned himself with your hole. He pushed in slowly, savoring each moment when your pussy pulled him in until there was no space between the two of you. 

Seokmin kissed you again to give himself time to adjust to you squeezing him. You held his face close to yours, in your eyes a mix of emotions he didn't want to understand. Not in that moment at least.

"I don't want anyone else," you said looking into his eyes, your thumb running over his bottom lip "No one else can make me feel the way you do"

To hell with care and self-preservation. You let go of those the moment you opened the door for him, the moment you let him into your home, the moment you didn't push him away when he kissed you. 

Seokmin fucks you slowly, his pace torturous as you beg and beg for more. He intertwined his fingers with yours and held one of your hands above your head while the other one held your hips in place. 

"Seokmin... harder"

And it's like a switch has gone off inside his brain. His once slow pace becomes shallow. The sound of your breaths and his skin slapping against yours were the only ones heard, echoing through the empty room. 

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, catching you so off guard you scream because it's too much. 

You pushed Seokmin away and watched in ecstasy as he wrapped his hand around his cock, his hand working fast as your name left his lips when his release fell on the sheet by your side. 

Seokmin dropped his body over yours again, his forehead on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and ran your hand over his hair. 

"I love you" you allowed yourself to say, even if it meant nothing to him. 

Letter #6

Seokmin,

I never thought I'd say this, but I'm coming home. Or the closest thing I still have to a home. Needless to say, my mother is happy with the news. She's been tormenting me for years, asking me to come back, but since I set foot here I decided I wasn't going back.

I wanted to, but I wouldn't go back.

Every time I thought about going back, the first thing that came into my head was the last image I had of you. Your teary eyes wishing me a safe flight, saying I love you and hope you accomplish everything you want. I regretted it the moment I gave my things away and handed my passport into the hand of the airline girl. I should have come back, I should have given up, but I couldn't. That old story of putting myself first and second, you know how it goes. In this case, my entire top 10 was just different versions of me.

I think I actually felt scared because as time went by, little by little without me realizing it right away, you became a very big part of my life. A part that could change everything. I felt like I depended on you too much. It wasn't fair to you or me.

We were only 22, Seokmin. When we were so young, we thought that life was conquered and today I know that is not the case. Far from it. At 22 I had a degree and worked part-time at a cafe to pay the bills, just like you.

You might think I'm selfish, I'm sure you do based on the things you say on your show. I was selfish and on some level, I don't regret it. I did what I always planned to do, what I always wanted to do. And now I'm coming home.

Part of me wants to run and find you, explain why I made the decisions I did, why I never told you. But I know you won't want to listen to me. I wouldn't want to listen to me either. Why would I listen to someone who left just like that? It really wouldn't make sense.

But another part, this one a little more rational, says that I shouldn't throw salt into the wound after so many years have gone by. I have the scar here, hidden enough for no one to see, but prominent enough for me to remember what I did every single day.

I think that's what I'm going to do. I think that's what I have to do. It wouldn't be fair to just show up in front of you and say “hi, I'm back” after seven years.

You have become a big “what if” for me. What if I had stayed? Would we have stayed together or would our relationship have ended years ago? What if I had told you what I was doing while I was doing it? Would you have asked me to stay? What if I had given the possibility of a long-distance relationship? Would we have worked out or would you start to resent me for leaving and end up hurting each other anyway?

The most absurd thing is that I still like you, I'm still in love with you. I've always heard that distance makes love end or something like that. I haven't seen you in seven years, I don't know what's going on in your life — you're really good at hiding everything being a celebrity now — so it doesn't make any sense that my feelings haven't changed even after all this time. This guy I see online might not be the Seokmin I fell in love with, just like I'm not the same person you remember.

Every time I hear your voice I still feel butterflies in my stomach. I sleep and dream about you. When I wake up I think about you and I wonder if you think about me too. It is not normal. It's not healthy. Life went on and I think it is our obligation to move forward together. We are not a museum to only feed on the past.

Let's continue as we are now, what do you think? We will once again be in the same country, in the same city, but I think it's best for both of us to pretend that nothing will change. It's a huge city, what are the chances of us meeting?

yn

Before you even opened your eyes, you already knew what you would find. Or who you wouldn't find. You knew the space next to you on the mattress would be empty. You had noticed the exact moment Seokmin had gotten up, but you forced yourself to believe that he had just gone to the bathroom. You had kept your eyes closed and had somehow gone back to sleep.

You had been naive to think that the night had changed something, that the way everything seemed like it would be fine was an indication that things had finally gotten back on track. If any, the train simply ended up derailing.

When Seokmin kissed you it was magical, no matter how cliché and teenage it may sound. It was as if the world had fallen into place again, as if you had finally returned home after being away for so long. You couldn't help but wonder if that was why you'd taken the job, in the foolish, unconscious hope that there might be a chance, however slight, of being with him again.

You forced yourself to sit up and pulled the sheet up to cover your naked body. The shirt and shorts you wore the night before were next to you on the floor, but you refused to wear those clothes, opting to rummage through the boxes in the corner of the room looking for clean ones.

You didn't want to go to the living room, didn't want to be mocked by the two boxes that Seokmin had left on the counter, but you couldn't help it. It was as if your feet had a life of their own. When you realized it, you were already sitting on the living room floor with the two boxes in front of you.

You momentarily decided to ignore the smaller black box and pulled the large one closer. The first thing you saw was the envelope Seokmin mentioned the night before. Money, especially the one in the envelope, wasn't something you were going to worry about. You didn't care about it, you didn't lie when you told him that he should have spent it. That money would remain untouched.

There were also a few books you read and made annotations on, two stuffed animals, and all the picture frames you had left behind.

One of the things you regretted the most was not taking with you when you left were photos of you and Seokmin. You had only taken one, which was folded inside your wallet. It was already so old and worn out that it had almost turned to dust, but you would never get it out. It was you and Seokmin at Niah's old restaurant, he was smiling at the camera while you looked at him. It was your favorite picture.

At the bottom of the box was the camera you had given Seokmin as a birthday present a few months before you left. You had saved whatever money you could for months to buy him the camera he wanted, one that he always talked about and whenever you passed by a store you stood outside looking at it, almost as if it would magically appear in his hands.

You understood his reasons for leaving the camera there — or, at least, the reasons you could imagine—but you wished he had kept using it. Not because it was a gift from you, but because it was something he wanted. His smile was so big when you gave it to him, the tip of his nose slightly pointed down because of it.

Carefully you put everything back inside and put it aside.

The smaller box, for some reason, was scary. It was light and black, and you could hear its contents moving as you held it in your hands. You took one last deep breath and removed the lid.

Inside were photos you had never seen before. Photos of you alone, Seokmin wasn't in any of them. In none of them were you posing or smiling directly at the camera.

Most of them had been taken from a distance, without you noticing. In some you were inside the cafe where you worked, smiling at customers and serving tables, in others you were simply walking down the street, looking through window shops and pointing at something. Seokmin had taken countless photos of you without you even realizing it.

It was strange to see yourself through his eyes, even if it was a version of you that no longer existed. A much younger and more optimistic version. Did I smile that much? you couldn't help but ask. You never saw yourself as particularly optimistic or constantly smiling. You were happy, that's undeniable, but you didn't know that's how people saw you.

There were so many photos, from completely different moments, both from the beginning of your relationship with Seokmin, and from all the phases you went through together.

Behind the pictures were the post-its that you left around the apartment, reminding Seokmin of somewhere you had together or simply saying that you loved him. So many had a simple “I love you” written on them, others said “have a good day today!”.

You had no idea he had kept them. You always thought that once read, they were discarded, but there they were, intact as if you had just written them.

The very first one you had ever written, when you had just started dating, was also there. At the time, unlike Seokmin who never had a hard time expressing how he felt, it was almost impossible for you to be openly honest. So you wrote it on a post-it and stuck it inside one of his notebooks. He had shown up at the dorm a few hours after you left the library.

“Say it again, but this time looking at me”

You frowned, pretending you didn't understand.

“Your nose is beautiful”

You laughed when Seokmin wrapped his arms around you, squeezing a little, trapping your arms close to your body. His face was very close to yours.

“What you wrote in the note” he said softly, his cheek pressed against yours “Say it again, please”

The truth was that you had loved Seokmin, in a way you didn't believe was possible and maybe that was why you spent the last seven years writing letters to him.

Seokmin never left your mind, not truly. There was always a desire, even if veiled, to return home, to find out how he was, to just say “I know I messed up, I’m sorry”.

It was that desire that made your entire body go cold as you took one last item out of the box. A smaller box that fit in the palm of your hand. You knew what it was before you even opened it and opening it was the worst choice at that moment. Your heart, which was already broken, somehow managed to break even more, into a billion, shiny, new pieces.

Seokmin would have proposed if you hadn't left.

When the first sob echoed through the living room, you didn't try to hold it back, you just accepted the feeling of being absolutely lost and heartbroken.

The weather outside the building seemed to mimic the way you had felt in the last few weeks, torrential rain that had no end in sight. You watched the news hoping for an improvement, hoping that the rain would stop for at least a few hours, but it seemed like a distant dream.

All your students were already gone and there was nothing left for you to do. The handed in assignments were graded and the tests were ready to be applied the following week. You had never hated yourself so much for simply doing your job. You wanted to be, at least for that day, like other teachers who left corrections until the last possible second and left students desperate for their grades.

The hallway was in complete silence, a clear sign that everyone had left already. And you had already waited hours for the rain to stop, until the sky was completely dark, and if anything the rain had only gotten worse.

You sighed and picked up your bag from the chair. You wouldn't risk taking any books, papers, or documents home, the possibility of everything getting ruined was too big. Besides, you needed a rest, at that point it was well deserved.

Ever since you had opened the boxes Seokmin left behind, you had immersed yourself in work in every way possible. You had accepted all of the dean's requests and even offered to teach extra classes whenever there was a missing professor.

And even so, even though you had more work than you wanted, you still found time to look at all of his social media. You still listened to all his programs, even listened to the old ones before going to sleep.

It was almost like a form of elaborate torture done solely and exclusively with you in mind. And worst of all, it was self-inflicted. It was as if your brain liked it, begged for it.

The box with the engagement ring was next to your pseudo bed. It was the last thing you saw before going to sleep and the first thing you saw when you woke up. Instead of spending hours on your phone, you sat there, staring at the small box.

You hadn't dared to open it again. You had never felt so lost as you did that day, looking at that ring.

You wouldn't be a hypocrite to say that you had never imagined your life if you had married Seokmin, but before it was nothing more than a daydream. The ring made that dream an attainable reality. It had been in your hands and you just walked away.

A curse left your lips when you noticed that the umbrella you had used that morning was missing from the umbrella holder next to the door.

“Great, that’s exactly what I needed” you muttered, slamming the door shut behind you.

You were tired, exhausted to tell the truth. All you wanted was to get home, take a shower, and watch some relationship reality show, to escape the tragedy that was your own love life.

You closed your eyes and sighed as you reached the entrance. The next bus stop or subway station was at least a 15 minute walk away. That was a problem that existed when you went to school there, everything was far away. One would think that they would do something to improve that, but one would be wrong.

You thought about taking shelter in the nearest coffee shop, but you knew it was almost closing time. You wouldn't be the person who forces employees to stay late, not when you had worked at that exact coffee shop years ago.

Even with your heavy coat covering most of your body, the rain was cold on your back and it was hard to see anything ahead, even if it was just a few steps away. Even the sound of cars was muffled by the rain.

“yn?” a car was on your left, and it was moving at the same speed as you. The face of whoever was behind the wheel was blurred by the rain, but you would have recognized that voice anywhere in the world.

“Let me give you a ride”

You shook your head. The last thing you should do was get in the car with him. It was too dangerous, you were sure that if you looked at him for more than a second you’d start crying. Just by hearing his voice your eyes were burning and a lump was forming in your throat.

“It’s fine, the bus stop is right there”

“There was an accident back there, the bus won’t be here anytime soon”

You grumbled. Of course, there was an accident, of course, there wouldn't be a bus and with your luck, the subway would probably be closed too.

"If your car went through the accident, a taxi will too”

You quickened your pace, not because of the rain, but because you wanted to get away from him. You needed to get away from him.

“Jesus, yn, just get in the car. You’re going to get sick”

You pretended you didn't hear what he said and kept walking, face down – trying to escape both the rain and him. The first tear fell from your eyes. For the first time in days, you were grateful for the rain, because you could pretend it was just water and not a visual representation of your broken heart on your cheeks.

Seokmin stopped the car right there, in the middle of the street. He didn't care if someone was standing behind him honking like crazy — something that was bound to happen.

When he left your apartment that day he felt like he was 22 again, but this time he was the one leaving.

Hearing that you loved him was everything he had wanted, but the timing was strangely right and wrong, both at the same time.

Both of you screamed, shouted, and said what you wanted to say — or at least part of what you wanted to say. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders, at the same time a new one was placed on it.

After you fell asleep in his arms, the only thing Seokmin could think about were the letters scattered across the living room floor. There were so many. He couldn't believe you had spent all those years writing letters to him.

He needed to read them all. He would have done it in the living room, but he didn't know what awaited him, so he collected them all from the floor and a few more that had been left in the box and left.

He read the first one in the car, he couldn't wait until he got home. 

Seokmin cried right there, the same way he cried when you left. Inconsolable. His heart broke and healed in equal measure with every word of yours he read.

Seokmin always believed that you left like that, without a single word, because you didn't like him that much, because you didn’t want to be with him anymore. Not that he thought the entire relationship had been a lie, but he thought that somehow the love had ended. It happened to everyone, the probability of it happening to him was also high.

The truth could not be different. There wasn't a letter in which you didn't say you loved him, not always in those words, but he knew you well enough to know that was what you said.

After reading all the letters, Seokmin called Joshua. He cried on the phone with his friend and then once again when he showed up at his place with bad beer and takeout food. “Since we’re going to talk about our college days, I think we should do the same thing we did back then” was all he said.

Seokmin was on his way to you when he saw you walking without an umbrella. He wanted to talk to you, to know if even after so long you still wanted to try with him one more time. It was better to try than to always wonder what could have been.

“I read your letters!” he shouted louder than the rain.

His words were enough to make you stop walking, but you still didn't turn to face him. It was too hard to breathe. Your chest rose and fell irregularly each time you tried to pull the air in.

You knew Seokmin had taken the letters. Part of you knew he would read them, but the last thing you expected was for him to want to talk about them.

“I know” you said when he approached “I saw they were gone, and you were the only person who came by”

“Do you know why I accepted to host a love advice show? Besides it being something I've always wanted, of course” he didn't give you time to answer “Because a part of me wanted you to listen, to know that I was okay, even if it was a lie. I thought that if I talked about it on a show that had used the nickname you gave me, you’d regret it. I thought that I should make you regret it because it was the only way I could still think about you without looking like a fool after so long. I thought you didn’t care, that you had left because you didn’t like me anymore, so making you regret your decision was the only option I had”

You shook your head. It wasn't true, not by a long shot.

“I'm sorry” you said softly “I should have told you what I was doing, that I had applied for the and got in. I thought it was my only option. It was so stupid. I was so stupid”

Seokmin laughed a little, fingers running under your eyes. A second later he pressed his lips over yours.

“I know, I read your letters”

Seokmin,

It's been a good few years since I wrote you a letter. After a while, I didn't think I needed it anymore because I started saying everything I wanted, everything I felt, looking at you. Of course, this new arrangement has its demerits, as the paper and pen don't look at me like a lost puppy. But paper and pen don't kiss me either, so it has its bonus.

I thought when I came home four years ago, I would never see you again. I thought you would just be the guy who has a radio show that I would listen to every now and then. I didn't expect to see you my first week back and again and, well,  again.

As you probably know, I've never been a big fan of rainy days. I always preferred sunny days because those were the days I woke up ready to face the world. I felt better overall. But also because they reminded me of you. You know, when the sun appears after gray days? For me, you were always like that. Grand and brilliant.

But after that day, I started to like rainy days too because they started to be full of the two of us. Rain was no longer synonymous of an unproductive day, but rather of the memory of our fresh start.

You know this, we've talked about it a few times, but I spent a few months waiting for it to sink in. Sort of expecting that one day I would wake up and it would all be a dream. It was hard for both of us, I know. It was seven years of hurt and resentment and we had to navigate this uncertain sea without a map. Nobody teaches you how to do this, believe me, I looked. I found countless books on how to start dating, how to save a relationship, and how to get over a relationship. The problem is that none of them teach you how to rekindle a relationship after seven years apart, but during those seven years one of the parties wrote letters and the other had a program just to mourn the sorrows of the relationship.

I've read several, so you can trust what I say on this.

It really wasn't easy, but I think we came out better, stronger, in some way.

I love you and I’ll tell you that every day for the rest of our lives. Our forever begins today, in a little while. So stop crying, put ice on your eyes to help the swelling go down, and go to the aisle because I miss you already.

I love you.

yn

taglist: @wonwooz1, @mirtaspace, @feat-sun, @belladaises, @mayashu, @immabecreepin, @miriamxsworld, @aaniag, @k-drama-adict, @maiamorrrrrrrrrrrr, @roguesthetic, @sofix-hc7, @scarlet789, @moonlightgrleric, @mixling-blog, @haowonbins, @slut4donghyuck, @shuabby1994, @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan, @plumings, @shuasdrafts, @aaasia111, @bouclesdefeu

if you enjoyed reading, please reblog or leave a comment, it really does mean the world to me and i would love to know your thoughts. thank you! 💕

if you want to be tagged in my next fics, please fill out this form

[ma1dita]

ready your position

part 1 of 5 - SET IT UP!

spencer reid x gn!HRT!reader

summary: [3x9: Penelope] Sometimes second chances feel like shots in the dark. You just really wanted a cup of coffee. (set between seasons 3 & 4, loosely based off of set it up on netflix--reader is nicknamed ripley)

wc: 6k

content warning: signs of substance abuse, reader gets shot, side character death, unhealthy coping mechanisms & thinking

a/n: so sorry for the delay! i had a lot of insecurities about putting this out but well, here it is! lots of plot set up but pt 2 won’t take as long haha, please please please leave feedback or i might cry lol

—

[NOVEMBER 2007]

"So what are you in for today?"

A scoff leaves your lips in the dim light of one of the HR offices in the Employee Assistance Unit on the 6th floor of Quantico on a dreary Monday evening and it's intentionally disruptive, like you want the terse breath to catch your therapist off-guard. This routine of yours has you feeling like you're being examined under a magnifying glass but after countless hours of your ass getting pins and needles on the worn leather loveseat, you're still not entirely sure what else there is for Ms. Stevens to discover. Every psychological stone is never left unturned with her, but some burdens you still hold close to your heart. They feel like boulders that you choose to carry, and no one can take them away, lest you leave yourself exposed and vulnerable in front of a woman who can read you to filth.

"Agent?"

"Come on now, we're past the formalities, Miss. S'been more than half a year of us meeting like this. Think I deserve a reward at this point," the joke chokes itself out past your chewed bottom lip. Eyes scanning the ceiling, you mentally count the tiles until you can find a plausible enough answer to the question she's positively dying to ask about the monumental blow-up that could make or break your career, and maybe if you skate by with something noncommittal she'll let you out of here early. 30 salt and pepper sprinkled ceiling tiles, just like this time last week.

"Ripley, then," Ms. Stevens murmurs over a sip of her tea. The smell of ginger pierces your senses even from your spot against the wall. Your eyes meet over her FBI standard-issue mug and she's waiting for you to fill the silence and confirm her thoughts. You hate this game; being hyper-analyzed by the way you lean against the chair, or the tapping of your fingers on your thigh. 

Every move means something. Being a member of the FBI's Hostage and Rescue Team meant that you've been hardwired to always find a way out of any space you're put into, and somehow the job has translated into your day-to-day coping mechanisms as your eyes flicker towards the door.

Coping. Right. That's what you're supposed to be doing.

Sometimes you forget the reason why you're here every week— but no matter how painful or teeth-grating these appointments feel, they're the only constant you have right now. And they're mandatory, or else there's no going back to normal; any more time sitting at a desk makes you more anxious even if it's what's been prescribed by professionals like the one sitting across from you.

"You already know why I'm here. I know the big boss man already told you, and if not—office gossip spreads here like wildfire," you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest. Ms. Stevens takes note of that and writes something down in her notepad. "It's not what you think."

"You shot an unsub point blank and cost the FBI $4000 in damages."

Chuckling lowly, you run your hand through your hair, "Sheesh. You'd think for glass that expensive it'd be bulletproof, huh?" She's not laughing though, instead scribbling down more words and you think she's signing away your rights to rejoin your team. It wasn't supposed to be a big deal— you were just at the right place at the right time, and although you haven't been in rotation since your mandatory leave and the higher-ups put authorization holds to stop you from being on operations, that didn't mean you were just sitting around doing nothing. You still knew how to do your job, whether Ms. Stevens believed it or not. The shot you took made the weekly newsletter. Agent Fuchs and his family sent you a fruit basket this morning. Agents Hotchner and Rossi know your name now, for better or for worse. 

It was a bit of an odd way to end the weekend.

If anything, it was proof that you were ready to get back in action. But the subtle frown on her face says otherwise, and you swallow harshly, a lump in your throat feeling heavy like the truth— Ms. Stevens probably won't let this one go.

You realize she's staring at you for a better answer now as your eyes refocus on her fingers tapping on her desk. Nodding your head, it prompts her to ask the question that she's been holding back since you sat down. One could almost feel bad for the amount of paperwork that probably goes into your weekly sessions. 

Almost.

"How did you find yourself involved with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, Ripley?" she emphasizes, finally getting to the point. Sucking air through your teeth, you tuck your legs underneath your bottom on the uncomfortable seat. This is going to take a while to explain.

"I just wanted a cup of coffee, man."

—

A WEEK AGO

No one can deny that Dr. Spencer Reid's best asset is his brain. 

He knows it too— the fact is one of the few things he's sure about himself. Other people are much easier to figure out to be honest; case details scrolling through his brain like a frenzied catalog and each input has an output, each symptom with a diagnosis, and so on. The neocortex of the brain has about 300 million pattern recognizers that crave data able to turn into patterns or rules, and Spencer is used to staying late after cases conclude to write down all of the reasons why. Something about unraveling the unsub's methodology in case files is just as exciting to him as when he's in the field figuring out the why—mind the fact that he can read 20,000 words a minute. 

In his periphery, he can see the rest of the team settling into their desk chairs, but he's traipsed straight over to the office kitchenette for something to fuel his brain to be able to mince through the stack of paperwork on his desk. He's ignoring the fact that Emily slips a few more onto his pile, but what he can't ignore as he stands over the counter stirring in way more sugar into his cup than there is coffee, is you, walking through the glass doors virtually undetected by anyone but him.

The metal of his teaspoon clinks against his mug, and a side glance at your form reveals a lot to him— but not quite as much as he would like to know about a person at first glance. Stiffness in your posture indicates some sort of military background, there's a slight tremor in your hands as you reach for the mug on the top shelf—probably attributed to nerves? Most likely since he's never seen you on this floor before. You blink slower than average, and Spencer thinks it's a sign of exhaustion which checks out since you're blatantly stealing coffee from the BAU.

Sending a soft smile his way, Spencer quickly eases up and nods at you, sipping his coffee as he watches you move about the small space. Okay, stealing is a vast over-exaggeration, but in an office filled with FBI agents, it's a wonder that he's the only one noticing these types of things. He's also staring at you very intently, which might affect things.

That or the caffeine's already hit him like a punch in the face. 

You're pouring some of Penelope's homemade oat milk creamer and he observes the way you play with a fray on your knit sweater. There's something that clinks in your jean pocket and it's too small to be a gun, too big to be—oh! You're saying something to him.

"You mind?"

Spencer clears his throat, ripping his eyes away from your crotch as a blush rises upon his cheeks—shaking his head anyway until he realizes that you've taken the spoon out of his hand to swirl into your own mug, sipping at it and frowning.

"You're not from this floor," he states, and it's not a question because it's rare to have people break patterns around here at the BAU and you're far too comfortable to be a civilian but still on edge enough for him to think you must be an agent. Humming, he notes the furrow in your brow as you grab the sugar canister from in front of him, stirring in your preferred amount and tasting it, then adding more again, "Yeah?"

"There are 12 desks in here; 2 executive offices not including our section chief's, liaison's, and higher admin surrounding the bullpen, plus 6 members of custodial staff and the auxiliary agents that run in from different departments—I would know a face like yours," he blurts, blinking when you grin at how that sounds. Dismissing his blunder, you lean back against the counter and chuckle, "You're protective of your turf. I get it. That's good. I'm just here for a cup of coffee. Smelled the good stuff wafting through the glass doors," Handing him back the spoon, he can't help but stand there and hold it out like an idiot as you continue, "You want my credentials or something…. Doctor?"

"No, not at—" "Ah, perfect!"

Rossi grabs the mug out of your hand and takes a big swig as he looks at something on his phone distractedly, "Anderson was supposed to have a cup ready for me as soon as we got back… Why is this uh….watery?"

"Oat milk, sir," you say, taking it in stride as the older man crinkles his nose, mumbling his thanks, walking back to his office. Your eyes meet Spencer's with an amused expression and he sighs. The watch on your wrist beeps and you give him a two-fingered salute as you make your way out of the glass doors behind you eastbound; his gaze doesn't break until you're out of sight.

A hand claps him on the shoulder and it's Morgan with that look he gets when he sees the resident pretty boy with a person of interest (also known as when Spencer is caught talking to anyone, ever), "Now who…" he chuckles, squeezing him so hard that his drink spills a little bit, "was that?"

Spencer blinks, pouring more sugar into his mug and stirring it with the spoon, "Definitely not a secretary like Rossi thinks…." He takes a sip before realizing he's made a mistake. Besides the fact the mug he drank from is contaminated now, he's forgotten to ask for your name.

"At least that's what I'm trying to figure out."

—

It has been exactly 8 and a half months since you've been an active operator for the HRT's Red team. 37 weeks of trying to come to terms that Special Agent Charlie Young is dead. 258 days since your childhood best friend Harper was made a widow and her baby left without a father. And no matter what way you put it, it was your fault. Or at least no matter what everyone's been trying to tell you, it still felt that way since he took a bullet that was meant for you.

You spent your 6 months of paid mandatory leave in the confines of your apartment nursing bottles of Jameson, watching old telenovelas, and avoiding phone calls from anyone who would try to reach out. But in the space that Charlie's absence left behind is the reality that everything in life keeps moving on whether you like it or not. You caught yourself craving your old routine to prove to yourself that nothing's changed; that you're still capable of being the elite agent that worked your way onto this prestigious team in the first place.

So as you lie in wait in an unmarked car outside of 107 Leavensworth, you plan to do just that—follow through with the mission, this second chance—and prove that nothing can shake you. The next operations cycle starts soon and you have to make this count. Your eyes lock with Agent Morgan's as he crosses the road arm in arm with Penelope. Nodding at him, you slink further into your seat. There's a long night ahead, but hopefully, the only thing that will be bothering you tonight is your thoughts.

When they pass the courtyard, your eyes flicker back towards the empty street, checking every which way for possible suspects. It's quiet, and the air is a bit chilly, the wind sweeping through the street like a frosty vacuum. Your phone buzzes with another text from Harper, a voicemail from your mother, and unread emails.

[From Harpy: Have an extra table setting out for Thanksgiving. Your two favorite girls would love to see you if you can make it! Miss you Rip.]

[Missed call from Mama: Hi honey, I know you're probably busy but I'm worried about if you're eating enough. You're overw—]

The sounds of footfalls on pavement draw your attention away from the voicemail as a man comes near, swiftly passing the direction of your car with the purpose of walking into the apartment courtyard. You slide out with ease, throwing your phone to the passenger seat before making your presence known to him, "Can I help you with something? What’s your bus—"

BANG!

Gunshots are so much louder when you're the one being shot at. 

You swear you feel your heart stop beating as your body hits the ground, ears ringing from the shock that ravages your being and you just…lay there in the smoke of his revolver. The spinning view you have of the stars is interrupted by the sound of Derek Morgan's voice yelling into your walkie, "WE HAVE A FEDERAL AGENT DOWN, I REPE—"

You swallow hard, fingers sliding over the breastplate of your bulletproof vest and feeling the gaping hole left behind.

Fuck, can't even die right. 

Pushing yourself up and feeling nothing but the gravel in your palms, you wheeze, "He's getting away…Two blocks northbound. GO!" The man tweaks his head at you before springing into action, "I got her, GO!" And then his body moves as fast as you suppose that bullet did— surging towards the assailant's direction as you clear your throat and dust yourself off and look up at Penelope's window, her beaded curtains shuffling against the glass.

"Disregard. 10-78, Agent Morgan is pursuing, I have eyes on the vic…"

Rushing up the stairs, there's a tremor in your hand that slides along the banister. You need to push through the shock before the adrenaline wears off, but the faster you fly up the circular staircase, the memories hit you like a tidal wave. The sound of Charlie singing to his baby girl, Harper's smile when you first introduced them at the Academy a few years ago. Lactic acid builds up in your calves and your chest feels tight—your joints feel stiff as you stumble through the door blowing air out in puffs like someone does when they get burned. In the dark of the apartment, moonlight shrouds you like a spotlight and the singing and the laughter turn into blood and tears.

You'll never forget the way Harper looked at you in that hospital waiting room. It should've been you. Weaving through the fallen furniture, your eyes scan the perimeter for any movement; she was last near the window, and then where did she go? It should've been you. Turning the corner towards the alcove of her bedroom, Penelope Garcia's scream pierces through the darkness, and a gun is pointed towards your chest for the second time tonight as you stumble back, bumping a sparkly cat statue off her side table. It should have been you.

"Don't s-shoot!" you stutter, hands in the air and now the colorful woman is sobbing into your arms, blubbering, "Why is this happening to me?"

"I don't know…" you sigh, asking yourself the same question and holding her up—at least her hug is tight enough that it squeezes the truth out of you. You don't want to die. 

But why didn't you?

Your second chance at fixing things was looking more and more like a second shot in the dark.

—

By the time Spencer and the rest of the team show up, he's pleasantly surprised to see you making coffee in Garcia's kitchen. You're a shadowy figure against her counter, sipping honey tea from a TARDIS mug and minding your business. The BAU has staged themselves across every open seat in her living room, almost looking like a part of the bits and bobs that occupy the space—different personalities contributing to help out one of their own. 

Hotch looks at you, introducing you to them and Spencer holds back a smile when your eyes meet again. It's awkward, like when the teacher introduces a new student to the class. You shuffle your feet towards the group, nodding and biting your lip when you hear your name, "Call me Ripley. S'easier that way. I'm on loan from HRT."

"Glad you were available. The rest of your team was deployed," his boss says, and there's something in your expression that signals to Spencer that you're upset about that fact. Maybe it's the way your hands graze over your abdomen repeatedly, like checking for a wound or the way your eyes are consistently downcast. Even after your empty mug is placed onto a sage green doily, he watches you clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest as if blocking yourself off from the group. 

"It was a favor from Otis. My night was going to look like this or catching up on Days of Our Lives, so… Anyway, you guys are held in high regard in our area. For good reason."

"And so are you," Hotch actually smiles, soft enough like a father softens a blow, "Head back to the office and I'll tell Agent Otis that you did a great job."

"Um…Ripley can stay. We're friends now," the bubbly analyst says as she pushes her glasses up and grabs your arm.

"I don't want to intrude on your process—" "You won't be intruding at all," Spencer interrupts, "In fact, you might be more of an asset in helping us figure this out."

The pieces fall together as you watch the BAU work together like different organs that make up the same body, each with its own function and essential to their success. You take a seat next to him on the sofa, your eyes ricocheting off of the person who speaks like ping-pong balls and he knows it's overwhelming to some, but it works. 

"I told you I'm tired of this jag-off getting ahead of us," Rossi grits as he walks out of the apartment after grilling Garcia. There's an awkward silence once the team splits off and you don't move from your spot after the door closes, "He always like that? Looks friendlier in his author's headshot." Emily chuckles, hair brushing Garcia's shoulder as she leans over her laptop, and Morgan is pacing across the hardwood floors, fingers touching every little trinket to distract himself while his Babygirl works her magic.

"He's newer to the idea of a team."

Spencer has a heart-shaped throw pillow on his lap and he absent-mindedly plays with the sequins. He watches you chew on your lip before nodding, "Can imagine what that change feels like. Never easy. You guys are something else though—my Reds could never…get together like this."

"Isn't that the whole premise of the Hostage and Rescue Team? To be part of something?" The raven-haired woman pipes up, looking curiously at you. 

"Well, really it's to s—"

"Servare vitas—that's Latin for the HRT's motto 'to save lives'," Spencer hums, and you nod. There's a distant look in your eyes as you look off towards the window before speaking, "We just follow orders, I guess. In and out. It's funny how we're called operators when in reality we're the ones being ordered around." Your voice is wistful, going hoarse and you clear your throat. 

"Anyways, didn't Agent Rossi have three wives or something? Maybe he just needs to focus on finding a fourth."

The subject change lifts the tension that fills the room, everyone having a bit of a laugh at that. Morgan admires a blown glass ornament from Garcia's mantle before he moves his gaze to you, "He got it wrong three times, you think he'll find someone to lock it down for a fourth?"

"Actually, did you know that studies have found that the rate of divorce in the US is about 35% to 50% for first-time marriages and over 60% to 70% for second, third, or fourth marriages and beyond?"

No one moves a muscle at the statistic that spews out of his mouth like something from a well-oiled machine and you turn to him, full attention and tucking your legs underneath you with eyes full of wonder. He doesn't remember the last time someone's ever looked at him with anything other than mild unease.

"Really?"

"Really," he continues, "so even if you knew someone who could…" "Match his freak?" You suggest, interrupting him this time, and your choice of words makes Garcia giggle over the chatter of her keyboard, "I knew you were a cool cat."

He doesn't quite know what to say to that, always fumbling for words in front of attractive people, making Morgan send him a sidelong glance. Spencer goes back to playing with the sequined pillow instead.

"I got someone like that too. Hard to prove yourself when they don't give you a chance. It's like credentials, seniority, all that training goes out the window when I'm in front of them."

"Your boss?" Spencer mumbles, and you shrug, "Something like that." You sound like you don't want to share more, so he nods, saving your words for him to scroll through in his mind later, "He's definitely not Gideon." 

'Who's Gideon?" You ask, finishing off your cup of tea and leaning against the back of the sofa. It's comfy enough that all of your limbs sink in slightly, and he watches your eyes flutter with fatigue. Spencer tries not to get distracted by the way your eyes sparkle in the twinkly lights that hang from the walls of Garcia's apartment.

"He was…before. Before Rossi. Taught me everything I know."

"Must've been a good guy then, if you're this good at your job," you smile. It's the same smile you sent his way in the office kitchenette, soft yet like a shockwave, and he thinks that even without his eidetic memory, he'd remember your words forever.

"Mhm…" you muse, putting the cover of the TARDIS mug back where it belongs and standing up, "I should get back to the office. It was nice meeting you all, despite the circumstances." You nod at them, passing Garcia and patting her head before humming a tune on your way out.

"Ripley's kinda great, huh?"

Spencer nods, a small smile gracing his features. When he looks up, Garcia's staring right at him. Only the two of them recognize the Doctor Who theme song, after all.

—

You desperately need a drink.

You're sitting on Anderson's desk staring at the mess you've made of the BAU's bullpen, shattered glass sparkling like little fractals of light on the floor beneath your feet and this night just got longer. By the time they process your gun and get your official statement it'll be sunrise, you think. You can't look at the body even after they cover it with a tarp, the rest of the team tiptoeing through the debris in the entryway. This one's gonna be tough to explain to your superiors.

"Ripley!"

Penelope Garcia is rushing over to you and hanging off your side in a second, making the empty feeling in the pit of your stomach go away for a moment with her eyes shining like tinsel on Christmas morning and the guilt feels a bit lighter. You did a good thing. Then why…why won't your hands stop shaking?

"I never wanted you to do something like that for me," she starts, rubbing your arms and looking up into your eyes, "Do you hear me? Ripley."

You didn't even blink when you shot him, and you don't know if anyone would consider that the best or worst part of it all. Shrugging and placing your cheek against the hand that remains on your shoulder, you purse your lips, "I hear ya. I'll be okay now that you're gonna be okay," You sniff, blinking slowly as you watch your boss walk in, exchanging words with Fuchs and Hotch. "'Sides. We're friends now. You do what you have to when protecting your own." Your voice shakes a bit as you trail off, torn between the grateful smile on Garcia's face and the unreadable expression on your boss'.

"I had some time earlier, during everything going on—I work quick you know? And I do little crafts when I get stressed, so…" You feel a familiar piece of clothing being pressed into your hands, and it's your jacket. You didn't even realize you left it at her apartment, ripping it off after getting shot. A small embroidered pink flower now occupies the space where the bullet hole was. She giggles, squeezing your hand as you run it over her handiwork, "Sorry I only had pink thread."

"Pretty. Even better like this. You're a genius, you know that?"

The look on her face reminds you of a little kid who gets told their drawing is a work of art, but you revel in it. Despite the fact you might lose your job for insubordination, or whatever else Ms. Stevens can tack on—Otis is still looking at you from across the room, a talk imminent for your behavior. The HRT is risk intolerant, and though you saved a life today, you took someone else's.

"I read through your file."

Your eyes rip back and meet Penelope's as she stares at you hard through her glasses, "Uh…"

"Don't worry, just me. I just… get it now. The way you walked into my apartment earlier and you couldn't catch your breath, why you're the only Red left behind. I mean I'm like that after any type of cardio, and totally get it too, I…" she stops herself, and grabs your hands, "I get it. I've been there. I just want you to know I'm here if you want to talk, without the dark office and psych evaluation."

"You sure you're not a profiler?" you say simply, smirking. She laughs more freely than she has in days, patting your cheek, "Ripley, if I was, I wouldn't have been able to pass along your reinstatement papers. Your boss will see that soon enough. Again, thank you." 

You can't do anything but laugh—any type of unease lifting from your system before you catch a certain spectacled analyst staring at your new friend, and you nudge her, "You know, with all the heat I'm getting right now—No one's looking at me like that." Garcia grins, looking over her shoulder and then back to you.

"Do you believe everything happens for a reason?"

As you watch her saunter over and talk to the guy, you start to believe it too. 

A steaming cup of coffee is placed next to your thigh and you look over to see Spencer leaning against the other edge of the desk watching you.

"Just the way you like it."

You beam at him, leaning over to gulp the scorching liquid. The steam spreads in the short distance between you as you cock your head at him, "You remembered!"

He shrugs like it's nothing of the sort, the small gesture warming you just as much as the coffee does as it travels to your stomach. 

"Do you know how hard it's been to get a cup of coffee around here?"

And then the two of you are giggling like schoolchildren, hiding behind furtive glances and shaking hands like there isn't a dead body covered by a tarp 10 feet away from where you sit. He nervously scratches at the pit of his elbow, unsure of what to say next but the moment is broken when Otis and Hotch walk over, effectively silencing your laughter. Spencer walks away quickly.

"Listen…"

Your boss sighs, rubbing at his bald head as he looks at you, "Let me guess, I'm not gonna believe what happened?" Hotch raises his eyebrows, "So you weren't kidding, Otis. That's why this agent goes by Ripley."

"You always have a way of doing things your own way, Rip."

Grimacing, your hands tighten around the mug as you look at your superior in the eye, "I followed orders and saved a life today. The rest.. was just because I really was trying to get a cup of coffee," The two men stare at you curiously, almost forming a blockade around your position on the desk, "Penelope adds vanilla and cinnamon to her oat milk." Otis looks unconvinced, still not blinking. 

"I'm serious! It's delicious!"

Otis pinches the bridge of his nose before walking away. As he goes, he calls out, "You're back on for the next cycle." You spring up almost as if electrocuted, "Seriously? Can't take that back!"

"Don't do anything to make me want to," your boss says when he gets to the entryway, sweeping glass with the sole of his shoe, "No more surprises. I mean it, Ripley. Keep it up."

"Congratulations are in order then," Hotch says, shaking your hand, "I'll get the detective over to speed up your clearance. We all need a good night's rest."

"Thank you, sir."

Nothing can take away the elation that runs through your veins—like being brought back from the dead. You did what you set out to do, you made your second chance count and now you're an operator again. The type that saves lives and is in action instead of just filing paperwork and watching day go to night without feeling fulfilled. Excitement blurs your senses, your knee hopping up and down and it's not the coffee but the feeling of being useful again after all this—

"And Agent?"

"Sir?" you blurt out, looking up at Hotch, face falling at his next words, "I'm sorry for your loss. Agent Young would be proud of you." You smile at him and the emptiness sets back in when he turns away, immediately taking a big gulp of your drink as the muscle memory sinks in. 

It's not his fault of course. But how foolish of you to forget why it all happened in the first place. Your quest for redemption and who you've lost on the way here. Would Charlie be proud? Looking around the room for prying eyes, you twist off the cap of the flask that sits in your pocket with nimble fingers, slipping it into your long sleeve and pouring the contents into your mug until it's empty. As you take a sip, your eyes meet Spencer's over the brim and your heart lodges itself in your throat as you try to wash it all down. He nods anyway, scratching the nape of his neck and averting his eyes as he comes back to sit next to you.

"It all makes sense now."

The whiskey acts as a security blanket, protecting your feelings from what he might say next. It'd be better to pretend to not care what the doctor thinks of you, but when his shoulder nudges yours, you realize you do.

"Hmm?"

"Ripley. Did you know Robert Ripley originally titled his sports feature Champs or Chumps when it premiered in the New York Globe in 1918?" Spencer says like he didn't just catch you in the act. 

"You don't have to do this, y'know," you sigh, your mouth wavering over the now-cold beverage. Being patronized over your alcoholism might just send you into a bender if we're being honest, but then he scratches at his elbow again, sleeve rolling up slightly—and then you see the dots along his skin. Faint traces of fights neither of you bring to the surface go unspoken and for the first time in a year, someone sees you—vices and all and doesn’t recoil. There’s a wave that passes between you, hidden from the people that scatter the room and you can feel something crash over you in his presence. You think you might like it, even possibly sure of it when he speaks again.

"Why not? Obscure facts are right up my alley."

The sun rises on Quantico in the big windows behind you, framing everything in a new light.

—

"So are you?"

You blink slowly, torn from the reverie. It's been almost an hour of piecing together the parts you want to tell Ms. Stevens about how last night led to getting reinstated and earning your spot back on your team. The rest…you left out to not overcomplicate the situation. Come on… everyone lies to their therapist even a little bit.

"Hmm?"

She looks at you intently from a sentence she scribbles onto her notepad, "Are you ready to go back to work?"

Glancing at the ceiling, and then to the placard on her desk, Kirsten Stevens, EAC in blocky white font—you put your thoughts into words, "I mean even if I wasn't, I have to. This is my job. I have to do it well."

"But are you ready? Do you feel… able to do it well?"

Your eyebrows furrow, "I feel like you think I'm not—even if I've already proven I can." Ms. Stevens sighs, pulling her hair back into her claw clip and clasping her fingers together. Disappointment reeks from her stare, and you can't get to the bottom of why this woman seems like she's out to get you. You do the training, you perform well on the job, what else is there to worry about? The timer beeps, signaling the end of your session and you push off your knees, getting up from the couch. Your joints creak, frowning as you're still waiting for her to say something.

"Ripley. No one's saying you can't do your job well. What I am saying is, that until you admit to yourself that something's wrong…that feeling won't go away. You can't just run from your past," she says calmly. It's almost irritating, and a part of you wishes she'd yell at you instead. 

"I'm not running. I'm facing it head-on by doing what he would want me to do. Charlie would want me to get back to normal and be back at work." 

And she nods at you, turning back to her notepad and handing you a sheet detailing the inner work you have to do before your next appointment, "I can agree with that. We'll move you to every two weeks now since you're heading back to work. I hope to hear from you about any new updates…" Ms. Stevens says, continuing but the rest you don't listen to. She didn't even mention Charlie and he's all everything comes back to. If this is the help she’s prescribing, why does it still feel like you’re drowning?

You walk out of her office with the paper in your clenched fist and your phone in the other as you shoot a text to Penelope.

[To PG: Hey, I hope you're feeling better! Can you send me Dr. Reid's number? I need to ask him something. Also, Rossi's definitely single right? Asking for a friend (not me).]

—

"Let's say you've swallowed a bad thing and now it's got its hands inside you. This is the essence of love and failure." - Richard Siken

[ask to be added to taglist]

[aireia]

And now I'm burning brighter than your dreams. — He grieves for you.

Extra notes: Read part 1 here! The fic makes just about 0 sense without it unfortunately.

tw/cw: minor spoilers for chapter 261. no pronouns used for reader but uses she/her in first part. death. angst with little fluff. hurt with a little comfort. minor implications of suicidal thoughts. dreaming. mentions of blood. minor violence. blades. death. injuries. author's first language still isn't english. no beta we die like everyone. wc: 6.8K

note: This fic makes 0 sense to me. It sucks ass, but there's 2 days till my birthday so I decided to become a genshin character and send you guys a gift (angst) instead of someone sending me gifts instead. I also have no idea how to tag this. —masterlist

y/n l/n’s death has been confirmed by second grade sorcerer Megumi Fushiguro.

It’s been a few weeks since your death. Has it really been that long?

It's spring. The seasons have just shifted, and it’s still cold early in the morning. Megumi tries his best to get out of bed every morning, but the chilly breeze in the morning doesn’t help at all. It’s been like that for the past few weeks. He’d feel the cold air in the morning, and his mind would flash back to the time where he was holding you in his arms.

He remembers everything. It was especially cold on that winter night, which meant bodies got cold way faster after dying. He remembers wanting to get your corpse back to jujutsu high as quickly as possible, but that meant he would’ve parted from you faster than he would have ever wanted. In fact, if there were a choice, he doesn’t think he could ever let go of you.

Megumi remembers telling himself to hold you for just a while longer after you began to get cold, to give you the warmth you deserved. You’re a child too, just like he is, and from his knowledge, most, if not all children hated the cold. 

He doesn’t remember being a selfish person. He’s only been like that once, for all he can recollect. Although he knows how he was when he cradled your body. His lips were trembling, his arms desperately trying to keep you close. He didn’t shed many tears, no, but he remembers his throat threatening to spill words such as “don’t go” or “don’t leave me”, yet he choked on all of them. 

Megumi was certain it wouldn’t have cursed you, considering you were killed by a cursed tool, but for the short period of time you were hanging onto the thread of consciousness you had left, he was sure he would’ve cursed not you, but himself to death with his words had you heard him. 

He hasn’t been doing much either. Every single day has been a constant loop for him where he struggles to get out of bed, does a bit of training, eats a bit, and heads back to sleep earlier than he usually would. His mind keeps yelling at himself that he’s being pathetic, and that you were the same as the people who come and go in a jujutsu sorcerer’s life. Despite that, he doesn’t quite understand why every part of him refuses. 

Megumi doesn’t dream about you often. In fact, he hasn’t dreamt of you for over a month now. It's for the better, he thinks, and he hopes it stays that way. Though, there's a part of him that wishes he could see you every time he closes his eyes, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. No, actually, screw that. Your name has rotted in everyone’s mouths. It tastes like vomit and dust on their tongues. 

“They didn’t even give you a proper burial,” Megumi thought to himself before his eyelids finally closed. He doesn’t know what they did to you after he turned your corpse in. He doesn’t want to think about any of that either. 

Thinking too much was going to be the reason he died, he swore of it. 

-

Megumi can hear the sound of soft grass swaying. Wasn’t he in his room just a few moments ago? For once, he can breathe the air normally without feeling like he doesn’t deserve to, and the sunlight is kissing his eyelids so beautifully, so much more gently compared to the morning breeze that pricks his skin.

He opens his eyes, and Megumi finds himself in a field of blooming flowers. He softly reaches out to touch the petals before standing up. He walks around the place, the sound of the grass rustling as he walks around now the only thing in his ears. 

Megumi stops and takes a large breath of fresh air. If he could, he’d live here forever, he thinks. 

Then he spots a butterfly fluttering around him. It’s pretty, a shade of deep purple and black, and he can’t help but follow it as it flies away from him. Suddenly, he feels like he’s three again, and although he doesn’t remember most of his childhood, he vaguely remembered that he would play like this with his mother. 

He loses the butterfly a little while later, and he’s greeted by falling sakura blossoms. He reaches out to touch the pastel pink flower, only for it to dissolve as soon as it comes in contact with his hand. 

Megumi walks up to the tree, looking up at the flowers to see the sunlight that bled through the gaps. Then, he spots someone else. Someone who’s also wandering around, lost, like a child without direction. 

-

His eyes shot open. Megumi touched his face. It was covered in beads of sweat, and his hands lightly trembled, he swears he saw you in the distance. You weren’t facing him. He walked around the field, aimlessly wandering around while admiring the violet butterflies that danced around the flowers, just as he did.

He walked up to you, and there you are. That’s when he woke up. 

“2am..” Megumi sighed once he looked at the clock on his nightstand. You’re in his dreams. Damnit. He’s not saying you weren’t before you died, but then, everything was simple. He dreamt of your futures together, not what this was.

He wasn't able to fall back asleep after that, tossing and turning on his head, only thinking of the image of you in the field of flowers. You looked so beautiful, and he wondered for a moment if it could be reality. It’s selfish, but he really wants it to be.

-

“Woah Fushiguro! You look more tired than usual today. You sure you don’t wanna sit this one out?” Yuji asked the next morning, clearly concerned. Of course he was. Anyone would be if they saw the dark circles under his eyes.

“I’m fine. Let’s go,” he replied, stretching in hopes of getting rid of the tiredness he felt. Each step he took after that felt heavier than the last, and Megumi felt like crumbling to the ground and falling asleep, but the world continues to spin no matter how he feels, so he decides to continue taking missions and working himself to the bone. 

At first, it’s fine. He easily distracts himself from the thoughts of you, but with each second that passes, he finds it harder and harder to do so. He’d thought that he would be able to forget you, but it seems to haunt him more and more now. 

He doesn’t get it. He remembers when Yuji died for a few weeks after he met him, and he easily got rid of the heavy feeling in his stomach, but now you’re gone forever, and if he’s honest, he never knew much of you, or had that much time with you, and it was a single dream, so why can’t he return back to his normal self?

Despite all the thoughts that plagued him, the day passed by quickly… He thinks. 

It felt like a long time when they were battling, but everything before and after that is a blur of memories he couldn’t bother to recall. Maybe it’s the injuries the curse inflicted on him that’s messing with his mind. Or it’s just like any other day, bleeding and merging into each other. 

-

“Another dream…” Megumi thought to himself when he opened his eyes to see the dark sky. He’s lying on something hard. The floor, probably. He stretched his arms and sat up, only to get startled by you, who’s holding up a lantern in front of him. He stares at you for a while, trying to process finally seeing you, and you cupped his cheek with your free hand. 

“It really is you. You disappeared just as I was about to call out for you last time,” you said, smiling. You set the lantern down and hugged him tightly, and Megumi couldn’t help but feel a little odd at the warmth of you. He’ll remember this feeling, he tells himself, because at least, he wants this nice, warm feeling to replace the final time he touched you before this, when your skin was cold to the touch.

“Where are we?” Megumi asked as you helped him up after you parted, and you picked the lantern back up. You looked in the sky, where the clouds swirled and drifted. “I don’t know,” you answered with a cheeky smile. You’re just the same as ever. 

You grabbed one of his hands and began running towards the nearest door. “I guess we should explore, right?” you laughed, entering the manor, both your footsteps now echoing through the empty halls. 

The walls were mostly lined with paintings of people you both recognised. Gojo and Shoko, along with a painting of a male with long, dark hair. The both of you slowed down to admire the art, and as you walked along the halls, you realised that the mysterious person’s paintings had been torn, namely the large gash that ran along his forehead. 

As you kept going to what seemed to be an endless gallery, Gojo’s paintings also seemed to be growing weirder and weirder. His were stained with crimson, and eventually, his paintings too shared the same destruction as the ones beside him.

Shoko wasn’t in the frame of her paintings anymore. 

Megumi was about to push the door to the next room open when you suddenly asked, “How’s everything been?” and his hand froze. 

“It’s not been the best,” he answered, not wanting to go too much into detail. You didn’t want to push him, but if only you did, because right now, you miss him too. 

The door opened to a garden, casted over by the shadows of the plants and trees. There’s a table in the middle of it, with tea and coffee and snacks. It seemed like too much of a set up for a date. Megumi wonders because it’s his dreams, maybe this is what he wanted when you were alive? To take you out to a coffee shop, one where there were barely any people so you could focus on each other. 

Without thinking, he pulled you over to the table and pulled the chair out for you, before walking over to one of the bushes and plucking out a rose for you. He goes back to you and slips it into your hair, brushing some of it out of your face to admire your pretty eyes. You’re the same as ever, and he thinks it’s the best thing that he’s felt in the past few weeks. 

Megumi pours a drink for you before sitting down to sip on his coffee, shyly biting into the cookie that you offered him with that pretty smile on your face. 

He doesn’t know how much time has passed in this dreamland before the both of you finally get up and start walking around again. This time, you’re looking at the many flowers grown in the garden, and by the time you reach another door, you’ve woven a flower crown and placed it on Megumi’s head. 

The both of you stared at the wooden door in the middle of the garden. Considering its location, it was safe to assume that this was the pathway back to the real world. You felt his lips brush against your forehead before he opened the door, and then he was gone. 

-

Megumi awakens this time from the sound of knocking on his door. He looks at the clock on his bedside. It’s already 9AM in the morning. He lazily throws himself out of bed, before rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, then opens the door.

“Wow. Look at this guy.”

Nobara pointed at his bed head. Her and Yuji were both dressed in casual clothing, ready for the day as compared to him, who still looked half asleep in his dark, long sleeved shirt. Megumi listened to the duo talk for a while before they focused their attention on him. 

“Fushiguro! Did you not listen to anything we said on the way back from our mission last night?” Nobara asked. 

“I was asleep.” 

“Then go get ready or something!” she half yelled, and pushed Megumi back into the room. 

Once Megumi stepped back out, he was immediately dragged off to Shinjuku, where they continued to pull him around while shopping for sweets and clothes and just about anything. Just for those few hours, his mind was lifted from the thoughts of you, and he felt a little at peace, even though you were still in the back of his mind. 

He felt a little guilty. Even though his expressions don’t show it, he feels so, so happy for the first time in weeks with his friends, but you aren’t here to feel it with him, and he can’t help but feel like he can’t feel what he does, because he wants you to be beside him too. 

He looks at the sight in front of him, drinking in how Nobara and Yuji looked trying to win a plushie from the claw machine, his own breathing the only sound in his ears as the chatter of passer-bys drown out every other sound. The two are raging over a rigged machine, the sensitivity of the claw set just a little too high for it to be able to tightly grip the plushies. 

And then, he thinks of you. 

Through his eyes, he can picture you laughing along with them. You would’ve loved this. You would’ve loved every part of the life they lived. 

After they successfully managed to bag two plushies, they continued their journey, running around Shinjuku before they ended up at a mall, where they took Megumi to a photobooth. 

Yea. You would’ve loved this.

That night, Megumi pulled out the drawer of his nightstand where he kept your photo and compared it with the new photo in his hand. He noticed that Yuji had a few new scars on his face, Nobara looked a little bit more mature, and he… Still had his eyebags. And the most noticeable difference, you weren’t in the picture anymore. 

He places both of them into the drawer and shuts it. He wants to take another picture with you again. Just the two of you, together. 

-

“What’s it like being dead?” Megumi blurted out. He was dreaming again. You take your eyes off the cloud like fish that turn into mist at every touch. A whale swam by just then, turning into smoke and mist the moment Megumi reached out to touch it. 

You stared at him, mind wandering. You fixed your gaze back on the creatures around you as you walked through the aquarium, and finally responded. “I’m just… There? I guess.”

“That isn’t an answer,” he said, slightly side-eyeing you, and you laughed. “I can’t say. I haven’t been dead for long, have I?” but that’s only to you. To Megumi, it’s been a lifetime without you, and hearing you say it again reminded him of just how much he’s grown to lean on your shoulder when he felt weak. 

“Or maybe it’s because I’m waiting for someone that I’m putting off finally laying my soul to rest,” you said, pressing your finger against the glass of the aquarium tanks and watching as curious sea creatures gathered. 

“Who?” Megumi asked, only for you to turn around and boop his nose with your finger. 

“You, obviously.” 

“You want me to die early?” He questioned again. What? Where’d he get that type of idea? 

“Silly boy,” you laughed, grabbing his arm before running towards the exit of the aquarium, the stray animals around you disappearing as you ran through them, leaving large trails of mist behind you, as if you were deconstructing Megumi’s dreams for him, leading him back where he belonged. 

“I’d wait an eternity for you, so don’t come here too early.”

-

When he woke up again, the rain outside was as heavy as ever. With the way it’s pouring down, it looks like there’s clouds of mist everywhere. That would explain why he dreamt of… Whatever that was. He pressed his finger against the panel of the window, wondering if there was even the slightest chance for him to create shikigami that resembled the ones in his imaginations. 

Actually, nevermind. That sounded stupid. 

Megumi got ready for his day. For once, he felt just a little bit more energised. Maybe it was because he felt reassured. You’re waiting for him, and he won’t be alone. Even if he can’t see you now, but still! He knows now that if he does somehow die, which you wouldn’t be happy about, at least he’d be able to have all the time in the world with you. 

The grief doesn’t feel as heavy anymore, now replaced by his hopes that you’d keep visiting him in his dreams, entering his mind and pulling him out of his own, it felt almost as if it were him who was in your dreams, and not the other way around.

-

It’s been a few months now, and he’s dreamt of you so, so many times. Each time he left those dreams meant that he made new memories with you– something you weren’t able to do in the real world. Megumi can’t help but find himself wanting to be with you more. He wants to make up for the lost time, for every second he wasn’t able to be by your side. If anyone knew, they’d call him obsessive. Hell, they’d say anything, but to him, this felt like hope he seemed to have lost.

He sat in his bed, reading one of his novels. Actually, reading… Wouldn’t be the right term here. He found himself mindlessly staring at the words and flipping through pages he hadn't read as he thought and dwelled on memories from when you were still alive. 

Megumi looked out the window of the classroom. It’s autumn again. The trees have begun to turn a shade of orange, the wind has gotten just a little colder, and everything seemed a little bit duller. 

Today, grey clouds covered the skies, and he looked at the front of the class. It seemed just like the day you first stepped foot into campus, where one day they’d all get permissions and have sleepovers and drink hot chocolate, and he can’t help but feel a little saddened.

Now all the memories he has of you are from the figments of his and your imaginations. Is it so wrong for him to wish to see the stars with you again? Is it so wrong for him to wish for you to take his first kiss in the winter on the roof again? 

Megumi wants nothing more right now than to relive each of those memories, and with each passing second, he finds himself wanting to do those things in his dreams, even though he can’t control any of them. 

-

“It’s almost winter? Brings back memories,” you breathed out, walking ahead of him. “I wanna play monopoly with you guys again. I was so close to winning last time.”

“Why couldn’t we have ended up like that?” Megumi asked you one day.

He was at a beach with you this time. When he opened his eyes, you were dancing in the cool water, freer than any bird with your arms spread wide to welcome the breeze and sunlight that kissed your skin. 

He was mesmerised by the way you moved, and before he knew it, you pulled him by his arms to dance with you, the warmth of your hands surrounding his skin. And then, you sat by the ocean with your feet in the water, your head resting on Megumi’s shoulder. 

“It would’ve been selfish,” you replied to his question, closing your eyes to listen to the sound of the waves. 

“It’s okay to be,” he retorted. “We could’ve been so much more.” 

Silence took over, and you think for a moment. He’s right. You could've been everything. 

“There wouldn’t have been a point to it with what I was.” There was bitterness in your voice. “And besides, I don’t have the right to feel that way.”

“I should’ve been more selfish for you.”

You looked at the water splashing over your legs and stood up, slowly making your way to the deeper parts of the water. Maybe it's your fault for showing up so much, but you miss him just as much as he does, and you're unsure of how to get him to stop, or for you to let go, too.

“It’s time for me to go. See you?” 

The uncertainty in your voice made him feel worried. He got up and tried to reach out towards you, wanting to do anything to keep you from leaving again, but the waves had consumed you before he could, and suddenly, his eyes were open, and he’s awake.

He doesn’t like how quickly the dream went by.

He doesn’t dream of you again after that. You’re always on his mind, just like usual, but he can’t seem to speak to you or dream of you. Each day spent was a day spent in disappointment, and he doesn’t want to stop trying.

Megumi could walk down the streets and see various flowers and plants, or a pretty bird you’d like, and he’d want to talk to you about it. 

Despite how strong his desires are, he can’t find you anywhere. He swears he’s about to start writing letters to heaven and somehow hoping they get to you. He’s dreamt of you so much now he’s starting to think you’re alive again, and more often than not, he finds himself picking his phone up and clicking on your contact in hopes of being able to text you about his day, and for you to respond to him, but that won’t happen, and he knows it.

And then all of it repeats. He’s going to bed earlier and earlier, hoping that by some miracle that he was going to see you in the fog of illusions his brain made.

But you never showed up, and he was getting tired of it. He found it harder to concentrate on missions, because there were just so many things he wanted to tell you, and he kept telling himself to remember because he’ll see you again, and then he’ll get to tell you of everything he’s seen, because you were never able to see them.

He’s so full of you, you, and you, and all the heart he has for you, so please, he begs, for once he's found something he can look forward to, why won’t you just comfort him again?

-

“Megumi…”

His eyes opened abruptly to scan his surroundings. Another few months have passed, and a year has probably passed since you first started appearing in his dreams, he’s finally heard your voice again. There’s nothing around him. It’s pure darkness, and he can hear your voice echoing somewhere. 

Megumi started following the sound of you, and eventually, the ground crunched with each step he took. He looked down. He’s stepping on white snow, then he looks up again, and there’s a trail of blood.

And he hears your voice in that direction.

He gulps and freezes. His legs are physically impaled into the ground, as if something were holding him down, and he can’t find it in himself to move. And then he thinks, and thinks, and you’re in danger, and suddenly, he takes one step, and then he’s running towards you. 

The trees seem to become blurry as he increases his speed, and he doesn’t know how long he’s been running. One moment it’s dark, and then there was light as he stepped into the snow, and now, the sun has set, and he’s running in hopes of reaching you before he fails you again. 

He’s panting heavily, his legs are about to give out from the running, and he finally sees you. The blood on the ground he saw earlier had gotten thicker with every step he ran, and he sees you laying in the cold snow again, with your arm extended towards the skies. There’s a star you’re hoping to grasp, to reach and it’s shining so brightly, so radiant and pretty for everyone in the world to see as you finally realised– It’s always been out of your reach.

Megumi ran towards you and pulled you into his arms. He wondered to himself just as he did it, what is he doing? Why does he have to experience this again? It’s completely the same, and he can feel how cold your body is. 

He feels like he’s on autopilot, vision shaky and blurry as he holds your freezing hand up to his cheek, and he can feel his heart thumping in his chest, his mind running thousands of miles per second, and yet just one word from you snapped him out of all of it.

 “I’m sorry.” 

For some reason, Megumi dreaded that you’d apologise. He didn’t want an apology. He knows you felt guilty for the pain you’d caused him, but he’s over it. He could never hate you, because why would he? How could he hate you when you gave him company, love, and comfort? How could he hate you when he’s himself? 

He doesn’t respond to you. Not this time. Instead, he looks up to see the moon, and just as he thought, there wasn’t any moon again, because why would there be when it was right beside him? And for how much you loved the sun, isn’t it cruel that it never shone upon you? 

-

His eyes shot open again. It feels even worse now. He knows it’s just a dream, but you were dying, and he’s awake, and he wonders if he was still there holding you so you felt warm before everything went dark. He stares at his hands. It’s not stained with blood. Not anymore, for he washed it off over a year ago, so why does it feel so devastating knowing it wasn’t real? 

Perhaps it was the feeling that he’s failed you again, and there wasn’t anyone by your side, or maybe he’s thinking from your perspective. Maybe he was never beside you and he’s invisible in his dreams, and you think you don’t deserve the grace of a little mercy, just a little bit of company and kindness when you die. 

The tight feeling in his chest from the day he woke up after your passing was back again, and he can’t help but think it’s only gotten worse. 

Megumi wipes the sweat off his forehead and gets up. He has a solo mission today. He can’t mess up again. Not when you’re no longer around to have his back. 

Once he’s ready, he meets up with Ijichi, who briefs him on his mission while driving. It seemed easy enough. Worst case scenario, he’d run into a grade two curse, which he wouldn’t have that much of a problem defeating. 

So why exactly was he being stared down by such a creature now? He can’t help but feel a sense of deja vu. This exact thing has happened before, but at least you were there at the time. Now, he’s alone, trapped in a veil with no way to contact the outside world, and with the way the curse looks, he feels that he’s about to be beheaded. 

He snaps out of his thoughts when the curse swings at him, and he barely dodges the attack. He’s convinced he would’ve been turned into minced meat. He can’t do this. He can’t, not alone. 

He needs you, but you aren’t there again. 

He knows he can’t keep dodging forever. His stamina would run out soon, but every single attack he tried to deliver just wasn’t working. Nothing was. Every hit given was just another dent in his blade. It’s near its breaking point too, he can tell. 

Megumi’s eyes close as another impact lands on his weapon, and he doesn’t process it, but another hit, and everything hurts. He’s not sure if he’s broken a bone or not, or if anything inside his body is bleeding, but he’s very, very sure that he’s bleeding out. He’s tired. 

He doesn’t want to do this anymore. He can’t bring himself to get up. He can only stare at the curse before he finally blacks out.

-

“Hello?” he hears a voice sing out, and his eyes flutter open. “You’re awake, finally” 

You’re looking down from above him.

“What… Where am I?" Megumi questioned you, looking around the blank space around him.

“The border between life and death. I'm just here to make sure you don't die early, that's what partners are for, right?” you crouched down and flicked his forehead.

“You’re dwelling on me too much. It’s been a year, you know?” you looked straight at him, noticing that he was avoiding your gaze. “...It’s because I've been appearing in your dreams, haven't I? That's what's holding you back.” Megumi finally looked at you at the mentions of his imaginations. Yes, you have been in his dreams. You are his dream, but he doesn’t want you to feel bad because of it.

“I don’t want to let go.” 

You sighed at his words and sat down next to him. “Megumi, you have to understand that I’m only a small chapter in your life. I’m not much of a psychologist, but that chapter has ended– Our chapter has ended. You’re still young, Megumi, there’s so much you can experience, so don’t end it all–”

“You were young too,” he blurted out. “You had a lot you could’ve experienced too, but you couldn’t.” 

“I wanted to live beautifully too!” you suddenly snapped at him, and everything went silent.

The tension between you two only increased with each passing moment, and you both sat in silence for a while. Truthfully, you were wondering how much time had gone by while Megumi was unconscious. You felt like there was a weight in your heart, a lump in your throat, something that prevented you from speaking. 

You finally decided to speak up after some time. You needed a way to get him out of this place one way or another.

“Say, Megumi. What do you see me as?” Once you asked, he didn’t hesitate to respond. 

“The moon.”

"Even after so long you're still looking at me as if I were the moon," you chuckled. 

"...It's unfair." You whipped your head to face Megumi when you heard the crack in his voice. "What's unfair?" You shakily reached out for him, but stopped when tears began to stream down his face. 

“Megumi–”

"Not just the moon," he interrupted through his hiccups. "I wanted to make you my entire universe."

You sharply inhaled, and pulled him towards you. He clung onto you. You noticed how his hands were tightly gripping onto your shirt, and you gulped. “I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I’m sorry,” you said again, running your hand through his hair. 

“I never properly apologised to you for hurting you, did I? I’m sorry.”

The next few minutes were filled with apologies, his tears staining your sleeves. You pulled away after he stopped crying, your hand now tightly wrapped around his. “Megumi, listen. You have unfinished business. You need to get up and go, or I'll kill you myself.” 

“Don't steal my lines,” he weakly croaked out in between sobs.

Megumi sighed and wiped his tears away, finally standing up. He couldn’t help but notice your hand tightening around his just a little after he helped you stand.

“I’m gonna miss this feeling once you go,” you confessed to him, fingers now running over his calloused knuckles.

“I have a request, Megumi,” you said, smiling at him. “I know I told you to move on, and I won’t appear in your but remember me every once in a while, okay? Somehow, I feel that there isn’t another soul that’ll remember me for anything good I’ve done,” and he bites his lips at your words. It’s true, everyone will forget you.

“Hey, wait,” Megumi says before you pull away from him. “Do you think I’m going to be alone when it’s my turn to die?” he asked. 

You wondered for a while, then responded, “You won’t,” you said as you interlaced your fingers together. “You’ll be surrounded by so many people, and they’ll be there to help you live on for so much longer, I’d doubt you ever died,” you continued. 

“Even if you are, and you feel alone” you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him goodbye one last time. “I’ll be here to kiss your lonely soul,” you teased, and he smiled before you detached yourself from him and turned around to walk away. 

“Don’t take that as an invitation to come here early!”

“Oh! And let’s meet up on that mountain again. Under the tree!” you waved. 

-

Megumi’s eyes opened. He looked around him. There were remnants of curses that weren’t there before he became unconscious. 

“He’s awake!” Yuji shouted, and Nobara came over to help him walk to the car they came in with Nitta. 

“We got worried about you since you didn’t come back,” the pink haired male said, helping him into the car before the both of them got to (aggressively) bandaging him up. He looks at the clock at the front of the car. It’s late. 

Once they got back, Megumi got out and began walking in the direction towards the cliffs. “Hey! We need you to get checked by Shoko! She’s been waiting ever since we started searching for you!” 

He groaned, but begrudgingly followed them, and all the way throughout his check-up, he’s only been thinking about everything you’ve said to him. The minute it was over, he darted out the door and ran for the cliffs. 

Megumi was panting slightly when he got there. He went right after the mission, with blood still staining his uniform. The moon hung high in the sky, watching as he summoned his demon dogs and began digging the spot under the tree. Megumi began clawing at the soil using his hands at one point, getting dirt stuck in between his nails and fingers. He only stopped when he found a slightly rusted metal box.

The boy didn’t know what to expect inside, taking a deep breath and gulping before his shaky hands lifted the cover of the box. 

Megumi saw a few pictures of you and him, some of the accessories you wore, a book, and a piece of letter that had been neatly folded. 

He sat down under the tree and unfolded the letter, and began reading.

My blessing,

Truthfully, I don’t really remember my first day at the school anymore, because when I stepped foot into campus, my goal was to get information from all of you, acting like a shadow that didn’t exist. I know that I felt alone before that, but before I knew it, I had been shone upon by stars that burnt brighter than even the sun, but yet, you seemed to be the darkest shadow among all the students.

I planned to die from the first day, but I only made it worse by getting closer to all of you. Had I not done so, you wouldn’t be feeling any of the grief you do. 

I’ve only been in your life for a few months, Megumi. I want to think I’ve made a change in your life., because I’m looking back on it right now, and you’ve made such a big impact in my life. All of you. 

Come to think of it, we never got to see spring together. Next time we see each other, let’s meet in spring, so we can have picnics at night while wishing upon the stars, just like children do.

And I’ll make sure I’ll be the one to greet you first, because you were the one who waved to me first in this life. 

Let’s meet again in a more forgiving world.

-

He held the letter in his hands after he read it, trying to figure out what he felt about it. His eyes are blank, and he’s cried so much for you that he doesn’t know if he has the energy for it anymore. 

A heavy feeling settles on his heart as he sets the letter down and picks the book up. It was a book he’s wanted for a while, something he mentioned to you once while you were stargazing, but he never brought it up to you again afterwards. 

Megumi flips open the cover, and there are wilted sakura blooms pressed flatly against the blank page, along with your handwriting. 

“They bloomed early this year, Happy Valentines Day, Megumi.”

He continued flipping through the pages, and you had annotated the book, highlighting everything you felt he would look back at, the cute moments between the people in the book that reminded you of the both of you, and a bookmark made of wilted flowers that bloomed all year round on the page of the couple’s wedding.  

Suddenly, he feels tears in his eyes again, and they overflow and drip onto the pages, slightly staining them. You told him to move on, but how could he? It was obvious you were lying to him again. You never planned to die. Even if you did, it’s obvious you never wanted to die. You wanted to spend your life with him. You wanted to swim in the ocean at night together, you wanted to wake up next to him, go on dates to carnivals just to ride the ferris wheel and admire the view of Tokyo.

And then it finally sunk into his soul that he’d never see you again. Not now, at least.

His hold around the book tightened, and he hugged his knees close to his chest. He wished on every universe that you’d somehow appear beside him and wipe his tears away, chasing away the heavy feeling in his heart. He knows the feeling is temporary, and it’ll go away in a while, but he feels so alone. 

By the time he finally stands up, his legs ache from how long he’s been sitting on the ground, and the sun is peeking through the horizon. He’s been consumed by his own thoughts for hours, and he thinks maybe it’s in his mind, but just as he turned around to walk away, a breeze of air went by him, and it felt as if something hugged him, just for a second. 

The universe is watching over him after all.

-

February 14th, two years after your death.

Megumi’s back at your spot again. This time, there’s a grave he had made for you, with a few plants planted beside it, and the ribbons tied around the stems sway in the wind. He sits down beside it and his fingers graze the tips of the soft grass. 

He closes his eyes, and he realises he can no longer remember what you look like. Well, not really. He remembers clearly what you look like. He still has the picture all of you took at the mall together, and he holds it dearly, but all of them have grown, and it’s not enough to remember you anymore.

There are new scars around their bodies, they’ve grown taller, become stronger. Megumi wonders what you would’ve looked like if you stood beside him now.

He looks around him, and maybe that’s his answer. The grass is greener, the trees have grown taller, the waves of the ocean are just as if not even more calming now…

You would’ve turned out just fine.

He can’t remember how many times he’s reread the book you’ve given him, but he finds himself turning to the page where the two lovers separated. 

“Do you think we’ll be like this forever?” the protagonist asked her partner, and you highlighted the phrase, a small note made in the gaps between words.

“Not forever, but definitely for a long time.”

-

Year ????

A young male with black coloured hair is walking through a park in Tokyo. The sun is shining brightly, and there are sakura flowers blooming. Some petals have fallen onto the sidewalk and grass, and he inhales deeply before stopping to admire… Everything. 

The world looks especially pretty today. He doesn’t know why, but the sky seemed to shine just a little brighter. 

A rare smile graces his lips, and he spots his friends and teacher waiting for him under one of the trees, all set and ready for a picnic. Someone taps his shoulder just before he takes a step forward, and he turns around to face someone with a face that seemed too familiar. 

You.

He sees you. You, who’s waving at him with that smile on your face that he adored.

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (9)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: A shocking call has Spencer questioning her involvement in the case. wc: 3.7k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

MASTERLIST

SPENCER COULDN'T REMEMBER THE LAST TIME HE FELT AT PEACE. Although protecting people and making them safe gave him a certain comfort, the pressure of being involved in harrowing cases took a toll on him more than he expected. But amid the ongoing investigation, he felt rather...calm.

He wasn't stupid. He knew exactly the reason why, between his responsibilities and obligations, he found himself embraced by this unexpected peace. It certainly had to do with the woman still nestled in his bed as he now stood in his kitchen, contemplating whether she preferred drinking coffee or perhaps something sweeter to start her day.

He couldn't believe it. He never imagined himself debating on another person's choice of beverage. Yet here he was, making a new pot of fresh coffee and setting out another mug to prepare a nice, warm cup of hot chocolate because its rich sweetness reminded him of her. If he didn't know which one she preferred between the two, he was going to make both.

He let out a sigh. He was a fool, wasn't he? Spencer was never one to indulge himself in romance. It wasn't easy for him to get swept away by any potential relationships. Falling in love again seemed like an illusion for him, something so far out of his reach. It seemed impossible to find someone he genuinely liked after losing the only person he ever considered spending the rest of his life with.

But look at him now, falling for somebody he met less than two weeks ago. For a smart person with an IQ of 187, he certainly was a fool.

Although having to know her for a mere fraction of time, Spencer had never fathomed that he could harbor such feelings. Having her soft body pressed against his side let him understand how much her presence stirred his heart.

And it wasn't just the physical aspect. The night wasn't simply spent with the warm feeling of her bare skin, but it was also filled with her laughter. Their late-night conversations delved into the realms of dreams and vulnerabilities, effortlessly bridging the gap between two strangers. With each passing conversation, he discovered the captivating intricacies of her mind which he wanted to understand better.

He liked her. He really did.

Maybe after all this ordeal, after he could disclose this current case, he could ask her out on a proper date. When there was no more boundary between them, when he wasn't an authority and she wasn't someone linked to a case, he would finally enjoy her company without feeling guilty.

He was pouring the fresh pot of coffee into a mug when his phone suddenly rang. He let out a groan, knowing what was waiting for him as he noticed Garcia's name plastered on the screen.

"Hey, Garcia," he greeted, slipping his phone between his face and his shoulder. "New update?"

"Reid."

He froze, noticing the strain in her voice. He quickly stopped what he was doing and straightened himself, pressing his phone against his ear. "What's wrong?"

"Are you sitting down?"

"Uh—no." He frowned at her question. "Why?"

"You might want to sit down."

He didn't, of course. But his mind was already buzzing with curiosity. "What is it?"

"Reid," she whispered, her voice dropping low as if trying to keep quiet. "You're the first person I called which means nobody else knows about this...yet."

"Garcia," he probed, suddenly feeling anxious. "What is it?"

There was a shuffling at the end of the line before her voice filled his ear again.

"Okay, so I crossed references that could help me find any articles Jamison Lynch wrote that might involve Kevin Marshall, and it turns out, there are none. Nothing. Nada." There was an unsettling pause before she continued, "Although there is one article mentioning Mr. Marshall by a journalist, who as of now, is an active employee at the publishing firm Jamison worked at. Guess who it is?"

He clutched the phone tighter as a tumultuous mix of emotions churned in his gut. In that moment, time seemed to stretch, waiting for his response. He paused, his mind spiraling into a web of confusion and disbelief as he pieced together the verity of this call.

"I'm guessing by your silence you already know why I wanted to call you first."

He did. He knew why it was important for Garcia to be informing him before anyone else. His eyes then glanced towards his bedroom door. Gone was the peaceful bliss he had felt, replaced by a gnawing sense of unease. Confusion suddenly swirled within him, clouding his thoughts and casting shadows upon the woman who still lay peacefully on the other side of the wall.

The warmth he relished this morning was now replaced by a chill of uncertainty that seeped into his veins.

"What—" He suddenly cleared his throat, hating how his voice sounded so foreign to him. He took a deep breath. "What else did you find?"

"I did more sleuthing and found Y/n's name as one of the people who filed a complaint against Jamison—which meant nothing, really, since he was known as a complete douchebag." Garcia then stopped. "May he rest in peace."

"Is there anything else?"

"Well, as it turns out, Jamison Lynch wasn't the first person Y/n filed a complaint for. There was also a complaint against Mr. Marshall."

"I thought Kevin Marshall was clean?"

"He was until I hacked into his company's database system and found this single complaint sent by her, which by the looks of it, seemed to be buried under a lot of firewalls." The clicking sound of a keyboard played in the background. "It was as if the company he worked for, or even Mr. Marshall himself, tried to hide it."

His burrows furrowed. "What was the complaint for?"

"Sexual Harassment."

His heart pounded in his chest, a fiery rage suddenly coursing through his body. The revelation he had just uncovered struck him like a thunderbolt, leaving him torn between seething anger and a torrent of conflicting emotions. The person he came to like had once suffered the unimaginable—a vile act of assault perpetrated by the man who now lay lifeless, a victim of murder.

Yet beneath the simmering rage, doubt festered like a poisonous seed. He was suddenly questioning the nature of her involvement. Not only did she know one of the victims, but she was also acquainted with both of them. His thoughts churned, torn between the desire to dismiss this uncertainty and the nagging voice of suspicion that echoed in the depths of his mind.

"Reid," Garcia called out when she was met with silence. "I don't what this means. I don't understand how or why she's linked between these two victims but please, please, don't do anything stupid."

His eyes drew back to his bedroom. Even when he was stuck between the depths of his emotions, the rational part of his brain managed to turn its gear. "Garcia, I need you to find out whether she knew the third victim."

"You mean the suicidal case that doesn't seem like suicide?"

"Harvey Webb," he confirmed, the name printed in his brain.

"Alright, I will. Oh—and Reid?" He hummed a reply. "Don't act on impulse. Please don't go concluding stuff on your own when you're obviously involved with her."

"I..." He took a deep breath. "I'm not involved with her."

"You're telling me you asked for her address and you didn't do anything about it?" When he didn't respond, she clicked her tongue. "Exactly. Now listen, I need to go and tell the others this, so come by the office and we'll deal with it together, okay?"

He glanced towards the cup of coffee now sitting cold by the counter. "Thanks, Garcia."

"You're welcome, boy genius."

As the phone call ended, Spencer found himself adrift in a sea of swirling emotions. This information was a step further into the investigation now that he found a link between the victims. But as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, a cloud of doubt descended upon his thoughts.

The deeper he delved into the complexities of the situation, the more elusive the truth became. Was it really possible she had anything to do with the murder? Could the trauma she had endured have pushed her to take matters into her own hands?

The questions lingered like a toxic fog, polluting his mind.

"Good morning."

Spencer looked up to see Y/n padding across the room wearing nothing but his shirt. The way the material draped over her form accentuated her curves, holding an allure that was impossible to ignore. His eyes traced the lines of her body, from the tousled strands of her hair to the subtle curve of her hip. It was an intimate sight that would have once mesmerized him completely.

But his mind was too clouded with his doubt.

"I hope you don't mind me borrowing your shirt—" She stopped when her eyes fell on him. "What's wrong? Is it the shirt?" She looked down at herself. "Should I change out of it?"

As quickly as the enchantment had taken hold, the weight of his doubts resurfaced. At that moment, the air crackled with unspoken words, an invisible barrier separating them. Spencer's heart ached with the weight of uncertainty.

How could the woman he had fallen for potentially be connected to a heinous crime? It seemed inconceivable, yet the voice at the back of his head urged him to question his doubt.

"Why didn't you tell me you knew Kevin Marshall?"

The unexpected question startled her, her feet instinctively taking a step back. "What?"

"When I questioned you that day, why didn't you mention that you knew him?"

She studied him, wondering where this was suddenly coming from. "I didn't think it was important," she finally responded. "And technically, I didn't know him personally. I interviewed him once for work."

"What happened that day?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you interviewed him, what happened?"

She felt his gaze upon her, intense and penetrating, and a shiver ran down her spine. It was as though he had glimpsed into the depths of her soul, unraveling something not many people were aware of.

"You know." It was more of a statement rather than a question. She took another step back. "Nobody else knows except a few of my closest friends but—" She shook her head. "That doesn't matter. What matters is how you know. I don't even think that company kept the files, they practically ignored my complaint."

"They kept it," he mused.

"And how do you know this?"

"The technical analyst in our team managed to find your files hidden."

"Technical analyst—why were you even searching for it?" She crossed her arms across her chest, focusing her attention on him. "Answer me. Why was your technical analyst searching for my complaint?"

Her heart was pounding against her chest as she waited for his answer.

"Because you're currently the only person linked between the two cases we're working on."

She frowned. "You mean the cases you think are done by the same killer? The death between my late boss and Kevin Marshall?"

"Yes. But this is only procedure, we do an investigation on any leads that we find."

"Investigation?" Then it dawned on her. It fucking dawned on her. Offense suddenly surged through her while his words, accusing and laced with suspicion, struck her with a sense of betrayal. "You think I have to do something with the murders."

The atmosphere, once a sanctuary of shared affection, now felt suffocating, closing in around her as the weight of his accusations settled heavily on her shoulders. His silence spoke louder than words.

"Unbelievable." Her eyes blazed with anger, her voice sharp and defensive. She turned away and stalked back to his room. "Unbelievable."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving," she hissed, noticing him trailing behind her. "Did you expect me to stay here and let you interrogate me like I'm some kind of criminal?"

His face twisted in frustration. "I just want to know what happened the day you interviewed Kevin Marshall."

"Why? So you can accuse me even further?”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“You’re questioning me. You want to know whether I have some kind of vendetta against him."

"I'm not trying to accuse you of anything."

"But you are." Without any warning, she gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it over her head. "You're practically cornering me with all the questioning, especially with that look on your face."

He quickly looked away and she stopped herself from scoffing at the absurdity of it. She was about to divulge how his sudden modesty was unnecessary when he spoke, "I wouldn't have to constantly ask you if you had answered me sooner."

This time she did scoff, grabbing onto her own pair of clothes. "You caught me off guard. What was I supposed to do?"

"Answer the question and not avoid it like what you're doing now."

"You think I'm avoiding the question on purpose?"

He drew his eyes back to her. "A study shows that body language plays a crucial role in interpersonal communication, and based on its verbal indicator, an attempt to avoid answering the question is notable by your vague response."

"And you're analyzing me based on that?"

"It's my job to analyze anyone involved in the case.”

"Anyone involved?" She screeched, dumbfounded by his judgment of her. "I trusted you last night, I opened up to you, and now you're throwing these baseless accusations at me?"

"I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm trying to make some sense of where you're connected in all of this."

"You don't even know how I'm involved!"

"That's what I'm trying to find out!"

The air crackled with tension, heavy with the echoes of their heated words. The silence that followed was almost deafening, a palpable strain that hung in the air like a fragile thread. The once intimate space now felt hollow, as if drained of its energy by the intensity of their emotions.

Breathless and emotionally drained, they stared at each other, their eyes mirroring a mix of regret, hurt, and lingering anger. But as the echoes of their heated argument faded, she felt a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over her. The adrenaline that had fueled her anger now deserted her, leaving her drained.

"You know what was on my mind this morning?" She suddenly spoke. "I woke up thinking I was happy to run into you again. It didn't take long for me to understand that, albeit the circumstances, I actually came to like you."

As the words spilled from her trembling lips, her voice quivered with vulnerability. But then a shadow of doubt danced in her eyes. A new wave of anger surfaced, overpowering the fragility of her confession.

"But the person I like is not this version of you. Who I like is Spencer Reid, not Doctor Reid."

He frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, right now, you're not the same guy I spent the night with. You're scrutinizing me, you're—what is it that you do again? Ah, yes, a profiler." She pointed a finger at him. "You're trying to profile me, you're trying to read my mind in my most vulnerable state because if you haven't noticed, Spencer, I'm standing here half naked while you're pestering me with your questions."

He quickly glanced away, noticing the truth in her words. He had let his anger and suspicion cloud his judgment of her, something Garcia had warned him not to do. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I'll go wait outside."

"Don't bother, I'm almost done."

But he was already out of her vision, and when she heard the soft click of the door closing behind her, she let out a shaking breath.

She stood there, her heart aching with a mix of disappointment and betrayal. His accusations had cut deep, searing through the bliss they had nurtured the past night. The warmth that once enveloped them had been replaced by a cold emptiness, leaving her feeling adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

Her eyes drifted to the unmade bed before her. The memory of the night lingered in her mind like a bittersweet melody, playing on the strings of her heart. The tender moments they had shared, the warmth that had enveloped them seemed so distant now, overshadowed by the disappointment and anger that colored her mind.

She had hoped for a peaceful morning, a continuation of the intimacy they had shared under the cover of darkness. Instead, she found herself faced with the harsh truth of their current reality, the dissonance of their unspoken tensions. His doubt had tarnished the tender memories, leaving a bitter taste on her lips.

With a heavy sigh, she let the memories of last night linger for a moment longer before gathering her strength. She walked out of the room once she was fully clothed to find him standing by his couch, his body turning at the sound of her footsteps.

"Y/n."

“Thanks for listening to me last night."

"Y/n."

"Thank you for letting me stay too."

"Y/n."

"Stop."

Her hands clenched into fists, a physical manifestation of the conflicting emotions raging within her. He watched her, and as the silence stretched between them, she saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, a recognition of the hurt he had inflicted. Perhaps he had acted out of fear, allowing the shadows of the investigation to cast doubt on her. But the betrayal still lingered too deeply.

"You know what frustrates me?" She wondered. His silence was a sign for her to continue. "You're questioning me not because you genuinely want to know, you're doing it out of your obligation because you think it's your job to do so."

She held out a hand when he took a step closer.

"And it's fine," she went on. "It is your job. You're the federal agent here and I'm merely someone whose name is linked to the case."

"Y/n, I didn't mean to—"

"With that being said, we should keep our relationship strictly that way."

Her words hung heavy in the air, each syllable an arrow piercing his heart. He stood there, frozen, his eyes fixed on her as if searching for a flicker of hesitation, a glimmer of doubt. But her resolve was unwavering. With a deep breath, she mustered the courage to speak once more, her voice steady and resolute.

“If you really want to know what happened, call me into your office, I'll answer your questions then.”

Her expression dulled as she held his gaze, and with one last jaded look etched in her somber eyes, she finally turned around without sparing another glance, excusing herself from his apartment.

He watched as the door closed behind her.

Spencer stood there, surrounded by an oppressive silence that echoed the void she had left behind. Time seemed to stand still as he grappled with the overwhelming flood of emotions. The truth of the situation settled upon his shoulders, the reality that their paths had diverged and the bliss they had once shared had transformed into something unrecognizable.

Just as the weight of his emotions threatened to overwhelm him entirely, his phone suddenly pinged with a new alert. Startled, he reached for it, his fingers trembling as he unlocked the screen. The digital glow illuminated his face, casting a pale light upon his features as he read the message.

PENELOPE: THEY'RE CALLING HER IN. SHE KNEW THE THIRD VICTIM.

Spencer stood frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at the words. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat reverberating through his entire being. He dialed Garcia’s number only to be rejected as soon as the first ring echoed in his ear.

PENELOPE: CAN'T TALK. HOTCH IS BESIDE ME.

His heart raced, his breath quickened, and a mixture of anger, confusion, and fear surged through his veins. Spencer quickly walked over towards his window and saw a glimpse of Y/n climbing into a cab, her phone pressed against her ear. He ran a hand through his curls in frustration as his phone alerted a new message.

PENELOPE: GET YOUR ASS HERE, REID.

SPENCER: I'm on my way.

Confusion clouded him, the lines between truth and lies blurring in his head. And beneath it all, fear lurked, whispering doubts about his judgment.

A heaviness settled upon his chest, constricting his breath and swarming his thoughts. The calm that had graced his waking moments seemed like a distant memory now—his peace only lasted briefly.

>> NEXT PART

.

taglist

@tereresrock @casthings @vader-is-hot @maevethelesbian @whereintheworldisspencerreid @reidverseq @niyahwhoreworld @l4venderia @theintrovertedthespian @lovelyxtom @tayzerr-72 @mulbsstuff @dorothleah @stevenknightmarc @prettyboyspenceee @gracesmusings @kalulakunundrum @fearlessmoony @r5court @simp4f1 @thecrazytealady @nyeddleblog @ghostheartbeat @comfortzonequeen @iiheartbowie @louderfortheback @busy-buzzing @alexis-exe2008 @imtherealslimmoony @baeofevery @elamultistan @lyxennz @avid-fic-reader-05

@cowstealer427 @thollandsdarling @ghxst-heart @cashtons-wife @kyuupidwrites @you-sunshine @comboboo @sebastiansstanswhore @panic-monster @marimorena06 @alice-ace299 @uncle-eggy @bollzinurmouth @julezs-bl0g @ruhrohragu @eternally-passionate @kazuumii @spencerr3idd @withered-rxse @broken-pieces @siredtomsgilbert @kaiya3333 @furiousbanditnickelknight @pinkangelavenue

@slay-and-gay @woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @zeysartzone @frxcless @sadroses98 @ashpeace888 @poo-tay-toot

PLEASE READ: If any of you asked me to be added and you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I could see it. But make sure your blog can be searched by anyone or I can't tag you. Thank you :)

Don’t forget to interact with the story!

[kittyslvs]

NOTHING NEW ; SATORU GOJO

pairing: satoru gojo x fem reader word count: 1k (1029) summary: she always gave him everything, and never received anything. mari´s note: i wrote this about two weeks ago, but i got stuck. maybe if i upload it, inspiration will come back to me and there will be a second part lmao

After Suguru's incident, Satoru was never the same, it was logical. He felt alone and with no one to listen to his lament; a lie.

Lie, because y/n was always there for him; as his friend, as his lover for a few nights, as a classmate; but Satoru always took every sign of affection from the girl, and threw it away; because what she gives to him, means nothing. Nothing new to the young girl, but it ached in every nerve in her body just the same.

Y/N knew about this, but she always hoped that Gojo's attitude would change, and apparently after that, it did, apparently.

The white-haired man always called her at the end of the night, and she, hopeful that he would finally see what she had to give him, she always went, again and again; but she always came back with the thought of "tomorrow will be the day". It wasn't.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months; the hope and affection for him was waning. It seemed that y/n was the white-haired man's plaything of personal satisfaction and relief; y/n felt like shit, she felt that her personal worth was reduced to whatever a man wanted to give her, crumbs.

She had tried to talk to him about the situation, but the brave Satoru Gojo always evaded her, getting angry or ignoring her for days, only to call her back and go back to his routine.

At this point, she felt like a living dead, nothing new.

the clock on her wrist read 1:50, she had no reason to be awake at that hour; if not for the "recent" argument with the boy. Her face was full of tears, her eyes swollen and her cheeks red; she blamed satoru, but more she blamed herself for allowing him to have that effect on her.

And the stupidest thing was that they had been there before, in that fight, in that moment. Honestly, y/n felt she no longer had dignity; she had lost it when she accepted his haughty attitude countless times.

Y/n grabbed her phone, wiped her tears and left her room on her way to the kitchen, her steps were slow and listless; she felt that if she stayed in her room a moment longer, she would die. For Satoru was so audacious to go to her house three nights ago, take her with fake "I love you's" and more to her room; but, he was drunk, she wouldn't do that with him being almost unconscious, that's when Satoru pushed her, throwing her to the bed and started to take out everything he had inside of him.

"Please 'toru, you're drunk" the girl spoke while holding his face, so that he would stare at her. "You can barely stand on your own."

Apparently the latter was the worst insult for Satoru, who stared at her with rage in his eyes, took a few steps back and pushed the girl, who fell on her bed, surprised by the man's reaction.

"Don't you dare say that, I can hold my own, I can do everything by myself" as he spoke he staggered softly and pointed at her with anger and repudiation. "I am not like you… Of course not, I'm not a person who can't stand on his own, who needs someone to give him false declarations of love to feel enough. I will never be you." As his words went on, so did the woman's tears run down her cheeks. Although Satoru's voice was slightly stuttering, he could not hide his hatred for the young woman.

Seconds passed in silence, Y/n staring painfully at Satoru, as he stood in front of her face; the man sketched a smile and grabbed her cheeks, being drunk and angry he did not mediate his strength.

"Look at you, youre weak, I am your weakness and I always will be. No matter how many times I use you and discard you at dawn; you will always return to my call, isn't that sweet?" He ended with a chuckle as he roughly wiped away the young girl's tears.

Y/n felt humiliated by her great love. She looked at him with tears in her eyes and with the little strength she had, she removed her dirty hands from his face, took her own hands to that area, backed as far as she could on her bed and began to whisper.

"Get out of here..." she could barely understand herself, but she knew that he was listening to her, who only approached her with slow steps and a smile on his face.

"I didn't hear you, can you repeat that?" he spoke with sarcasm in his voice, thanks to the liquor in his system.

The young woman gritted her teeth and smeared her nails on the palm of her hand, to look at him with the same hatred he was directing at her.

"I said go away!" she shouted as she threw a pillow at the man's face. "You're not strong, you're nobody to come and say all that to me and in my own house! Or don't you remember who was there for you after what happened with Suguru? Who was feeding you? Because you were so depressed you could hardly speak. Or that you don't remember" finally y/n was able to respond to his attack. "You and I are the same, Satoru" She finished by unburdening herself a little with him, who had a face of stupefaction and regret. They spent a few minutes in that position, both standing there staring at each other, with many things to say but not wanting to fight anymore.

Y/n broke the silence, with a whisper-like murmur, his voice trembling from the crying produced by the albino.

"I think you'd better leave, Gojo" he in response turned on his heels and walked out of her room, then out of her house. And that was when she was finally able to let out her pent-up emotions, crying for a long time.

She still couldn't believe Gojo's cynicism, and it pained her to know that everything he said was true, "drunks and children don't lie".

uploaded 28/11/2023 ; 3:41 pm like and repost if you like it !!!

[yellowbunnydreams]

Mechanised Devotion (Part 1) ~Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Reader~

~ Please be nice to me, this is my first time writing fanfiction in a while and honestly have just been experiencing the phenomena that is Matthew Lillard as William Afton. Also, first time posting on tumblr! Also thinking of making this a multi-part series, so feedback is really appreciated!~

CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), afab reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 40's), mention of crimes and violence, blood, mentions of child death (it's FNAF, what did you expect?), past trauma; abusive relationships.

When it had been suggested by your previous manager that you should see a career counsellor, you had thought it was a funny joke. You had laughed at the idea of something such as going to see another human being who's job was solely to tell you what jobs you were good and qualified for.

Until the paperwork had been handed over in an unsealed manila envelope letting you know that you had been terminated.

Unemployment had hit you like a truck, but without the pay-out that might have come from the trucking company. Filing paperwork to try and get even a few dollars a week to survive and contribute towards your house-share whilst already struggling to try and push through college had fallen by the wayside and you had been hitting the pavement both physically and online to try and find your next job.

That perfect one that was sure to turn up the next day, or maybe the next week.

But as somewhat expected, that moment had never arrived and neither did that job. So it was with great reluctance that you found yourself in a drab beige building with the occasional sound of human misery making the area feel like anybody was left alive in the room despite the faint clicking of the keyboard from the receptionist.

'Would it have killed them to put a small plant or something in the room?' You found yourself thinking as you looked around, almost missing the gesture from the receptionist lady who scowled over her glasses at you and handed you a slip of paper.

"Your councillor will see you down the hall, third door on the left."

"Thanks ma'am." your voice was quiet, and the woman scoffed before shooing you away with her somewhat ridiculously long nails. You wondered how she managed to do anything with them, but your thoughts quickly turned to the office you were supposed to find as you set off quickly down the hall.

The walls were beige, the floors were beige and you were minorly impressed that they had found somewhat beige doors as you moved down the hall cautiously. But the door you needed seemed almost comically like an old episode of Scooby-Doo where it was easy to tell what object was going to be interacted with due to the significantly different colours and quality of drawing. For some reason, the one door you needed was a nice deep wooden colour, although you seriously doubted it was real wood in a place like this. It took you a moment to breathe deeply, steeling your nerves and running your hand through your hair to tidy it up a bit, hand smoothing down your skirt before reaching up and knocking.

There was sound of shuffling from inside before a smooth, warm voice that came from inside though slightly muffled. "Come on in!"

Entering slowly, you blinked as you spotted a man sat at the desk infront of you, his hair peppered with greys despite being a cool brown colour and his slightly gaunt face adorned with greying stubble. Glasses perched on the end of his nose, which he looked over the rim of to see you before reaching up and pushing them back onto his face with his index finger, standing up with a warm, lopsided smile. What surprised you next was how tall he was. The guy was easily over six feet tall, and you felt dwarfed by his sheer size, broad shoulders accentuated by a neat by rumpled beige plaid shirt and a neatly knotted tie.

"You're my new client right? Come on in! Sit, sit!" he gestured to the cracked plastic chair opposite the desk with a large hand before extending it to shake your own, hand engulfing yours and allowing you to feel how rough and calloused they were compared to your own.

'How does an office worker get such rough hands?' you wondered as you took a seat, hands automatically tucking your skirt underneath you as you sat in the hard plastic chair. Blushing as you felt the man's grey eyes wandering over your appearance with something akin to disinterested amusement before he opened a folder and made a humming noise as he scanned it.

It allowed you to look around his office, noticing several framed diplomas on the walls, surprised by the amount of colour in the room with the warm wooden bookcase and even the occasional muted purplish-blue folder dotted amongst the shelves. You noted his room smelt like coffee, both freshly brewed and stale grounds somehow, a faint smell of smoke and cologne. Sniffing quietly, you wondered if perhaps the person who had sat there before you had been a smoker and worn some cologne to try and impress. But you supposed that you had gotten dressed up yourself despite your scuffed up converse ruining the somewhat ill-fitting blouse and skirt giving some illusion of professionalism.

"So, what are we going to do with you?" His voice made you jump as you suddenly snapped your attention back to him. Heart pounding as you blushed, realising as he tilted his head slightly to one side that he had caught you off-guard and slightly snooping.

"Pardon sir?" You asked, swallowing softly as you met his gaze for a moment before you looked down at your hands again. Picking slightly at your nails and more specifically the pale blush nail polish you had hastily tried to apply yourself that morning to hide the fact that you bit your nails. He paused before sighing and leaning forwards onto his elbows, chin resting on his hands as he gave you a somewhat lazy smile.

"I asked, miss..." he glanced at the paperwork before letting your name roll off his tongue in a way that made your heart pound slightly. You weren't sure why it did, but some tiny part of your brain was eager to hear him say it again. "what I was going to do with you. You have a clean employment record...aside from all the dismissals due to.." He paused and pulled his glasses down to peer over them to stare the text, his lips moving silently as he read before putting his attention back onto you. "it says here 'staffing issues and personal life interferance'?" Raising a quizzical eyebrow

"I um... I had some issues at home at that time Mr..." Glancing down at the nameplate on his desk, you realised he had never formally introduced himself to you apart from the handshake. "Raglan. I'd rather not talk about it."

"Well, I can't help you find a job if you don't help me help you." The man you now knew as Steve Raglan sighed, giving you another one of those lopsided smiles that made you feel like you were talking to a sweet, disappointed but supportive dad and gave you a pang in your chest that you might be letting this total stranger down.

"You don't have to tell me today, but I want to see you next week and I want you try to open up, tell me about what was going on and I might be able to offer something." Steve offered, gesturing to his pile of potential job prospects. You weren't aware that he was looking at you again, wondering if you purposely had chosen something that obscured your body-type and meant you weren't confident in yourself, or whether financially you had chosen what option was available.

The way you sat there meekly and picking at your nails was somewhat infuriating as he wanted to demand you looked at him when he spoke, but he remained calm. You were probably his most interesting client to date, hunching in on yourself and avoidant of filling in the blanks that your open ended statement had left. He decided he would lay on the charm slightly, see what got you to cave in and perhaps provide some amusement as his mind whirled with too many ideas and desire to move, do something and be far more active than his life as Steve Raglan allowed.

"I guess I'll see you next week then, thank you having me Mr. Raglan." you spoke softly and stood up. Watching as the hulking man stood too and opened the door with a somewhat sad smile, like he was watching a bright student walk down the wrong path in life.

"Of course, please, take this and give me a call if you would like to talk about this matter sooner. I hate to see a young woman like yourself go to waste because of one little hiccup." Another pang went through your chest as he spoke. He really did seem dissapointed in you, and some how, you found that you wanted to please the man you had met barely half an hour before.

As you walked down the corridoor, his eyes lingered on your smaller retreating form and tilted his head to one side, licking his lips to wet them for a moment in thought. He hoped whatever you were hiding from his was worth his time, and would perhaps find him another fun thing to play with.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : college!boyfriend!Han Jisung x F!Reader TW : established relationship ; verbal fighting ; mentions of drinking ; insecure reader ; angst ; Word Count : 3.3k

Jisung had been your boyfriend since freshman year of college, and while you remembered vividly the day that he had asked you to be his, you still couldn’t quite imagine why he’d pick you. You never thought the most of yourself, although he was always there to tell you how wonderful and how beautiful you were and how lucky he was to call you his, there was something in you that refused to let you wholeheartedly believe him. Maybe it was the years of incessant bullying you had gone through in highschool, or all the boyfriends that had come before him, the boys that had left you for the girls that weren’t a threat until they were realized to be more pretty than you. You had dealt with a lot of heartbreak in your short amount of time in this world, but you never thought that Jisung would ever be one of the people to hurt you. 

Now seniors in your final week of school, classes were all but forgotten, the only thing anyone wanted to do was party, forget about the stress that came along with being a college student for the last 4 years. Partying wasn’t exactly your thing, but Jisung was adamant about going to the last big party of the year, and he wanted you to go with him, so you agreed, albeit reluctantly. 

You and Jisung were polar opposites, that’s what people said at least, just another reason why you questioned how the two of you got together in the first place. People thought it was the perfect match, you both brought out the best in each other. While he was wild, you were reserved, and you were able to calm him down, he was able to get you excited, rile you up, bring out the playfulness in yourself that you rarely let anyone but him see. 

It was the perfect match, that’s what everyone else said, and while on the outside it seemed that way, no one had ever seen or even heard about the arguments that the two of you would get into on an almost weekly basis. They were small arguments, nothing that would actually ruin the relationship, and at the end of each one, he would even make the foolish statement that it just made your relationship stronger, and you, ever so in love with him, would foolishly agree. 

Not to say that your relationship wasn’t strong, aside from the petty arguments, you adored him, you trusted him, and he had practically vowed to you that after college he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Of course you believed him, why would you not? 4 years together should mean enough, it should be enough time to make one believe that he had been honest, that he had really meant those words. College was a stressful time, and you had both seen each other at your worst, and you were sure that once you both were finished and graduated, there would be nothing but better times to come. 

The music coming from inside the house could be heard through the front door even with it shut, and you silently cursed yourself for agreeing to come with him. He usually went to these events alone with some of his guy friends, and one of the main reasons you trusted him so much was the fact that he’d always be back home by 1 in the morning at the latest. It’s not like he was out all night, and you didn’t ever feel the need to question him. You loved him, and part of loving someone was being able to trust them no matter what, and you did. 

“You want a drink?” He asked while leaning close to your ear, his arm around you as he led you into the house, the floorboards vibrating with the bass from the stereo. You weren’t sure how people could hear in general with all the noise. You nodded quickly, giving him a brief smile before letting your eyes dart around the room. 

All of the girls there were dressed quite… provocatively, and while you personally didn’t have a problem with it, it was a hit to your already fragile ego as you stood against the far wall, jeans covering your legs while a t-shirt and a sweater left every single part of your body to the imagination. Your makeup wasn’t done and your hair wasn’t styled the way the other girls were, and you swore you had never felt so out of place in your entire life. 

Everyone was quick to glance over you, there was nothing exciting about your presence, you practically melted into the wall and you were nothing more than an object that got in the way when someone drunkenly passed through. You weren’t appealing, and it’s not like you wanted to be, you were here with your boyfriend, you felt no need to dress revealingly, the only person who got to see you like that was Jisung. You respected him enough to keep it that way. 

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, was well known. You could hear the warm welcomes being called his way over the blaring music, a majority of the voices sounded female, and while you knew that you shouldn’t be upset or jealous about it, you couldn’t calm the sting that you felt in your chest when you heard the voices gushing over him. The only thing you could do was remind yourself that trust was important, to keep telling yourself that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, he probably wasn’t even giving those girls the time of day. Those thoughts were all you could give yourself to try to calm down. 

“This place is packed, isn’t it?!” He shouted to you over the music as he brought back your drink, handing it to you with a warm smile. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and you wondered if maybe he had already drunk something while he was in the kitchen. You nodded your head in agreement, trying your best to look like you were having a good time, but to be honest, you were miserable. This wasn’t your scene at all, you would have much rather liked to stay inside and watch a movie. “Wanna go out on the floor, we can dance a bit?!” 

Dancing was not your thing, this entire party was not your thing. No amount of alcohol would give you the courage it would take to step out in front of what looked to be everyone from the campus. You’d surely make a fool of yourself, and while you knew that after this week you wouldn’t have to see them ever again, you didn’t want the last week of your college career to be spent being made fun of by the people that you tried your best to avoid on a daily basis. 

With a quick shake of your head you gave him the answer. “You have a good time, I’ll just wait here…” You said awkwardly, pressing your back further against the wall just to emphasize the fact that that is where you felt you belonged, and that’s exactly where you’d stay for however long he planned on being here. In a way, you were nothing more than some sort of moral support for him at this party. His head tilted to the side, a small frown forming on his lips, and you giggled sheepishly, shaking your head once more, a little faster though. “Seriously, Ji. Go have fun.” 

Maybe you were hoping that he’d just give up, that he’d ask if you just wanted to go back to the apartment and hang out there. You’d have agreed to that in a heartbeat. You waited, and it seemed for a moment that he was contemplating, and you’d be lying if you said that the fingers of your free hand weren’t crossed behind your back, wishing that he’d just get you out of there. “Alright… I won’t be long though. I just want to hang out with the guys for a bit.” He said, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead before going off, disappearing in the crowd of people that had taken up every inch of the living room turned dance floor. 

Against the wall is where you’d stay, and you tried not to be upset about it. He always did what you liked to do, it was only fair that you were there with him, it doesn’t mean that you had to enjoy it though. At least during movie nights you were both happy, at least he said he was. You had food and you always cuddled with him, and the Jisung that you knew during movie nights was far calmer than the one you were seeing right now. At least you understood why everyone greeted him the way they did. He was clearly the life of the party. 

He moved around constantly, talking to anyone that passed by him, and it seemed like everyone knew him. Not once did anyone look your way though, even he didn’t glance in your direction. You had truly become one with the wall, and you at some point just became comfortable with that. At least no one was looking at you, and while standing against the wall, there was nothing for anyone to make fun of you about. 

Hours passed, and even though you were growing tired, you kept your eyes on him. Seeing him have fun, in a way, made you happy. You loved his smile, you loved seeing him have a good time, and he seemed to be in his element. It was nice, especially considering the fact that when you had first met him he had suffered with his anxiety, the one thing that you both bonded over. His seemed to have faded over time, while yours only seemed to get worse. 

“Come dance with me!” A voice shouted, and the shrillness was ear piercing, and you knew that she only did it to be heard over the music. You weren’t even paying attention to who said it, your eyes glued to your boyfriend, that is, until your boyfriend was joined by who you could only assume to be the girl, her hands grabbing him and pulling him towards the center of the room. 

Your bottom lip was sucked between your teeth as you watched them, and you were waiting for him to pull away, inform the overly touchy girl that his girlfriend was literally right there. You waited and you waited, but he never pulled away, instead his hands moved to the girls hips and he pulled her closer as her hands moved up to his hair, her long decorated fingernails tangling in his locks. 

Pissed was an understatement, you felt nauseous and you were beyond pissed, you were way past upset. “Fuck this…” You mumbled, slamming your cup down on the table that was beside you before storming out of the house. Red plastic cups littered the lawn and you kicked them carelessly as you walked through it, avoiding the looks of curiosity on the faces of the people you walked by. You were sure that they could sense your emotions, you could feel them radiating off of you like aftershocks after an earthquake. 

“Y/N!” A voice called after you, and in any other moment you’d turn towards that voice with a smile, a warmth in your heart and a fluttering in your stomach. Now your heart was ice, and your stomach was twisted in knots. His hands grabbed your elbow to stop you, whipping you around to face him. He was sweating, his entire face flushed, breathless although you weren’t sure whether it was from dancing or from running after you. “Wh-Where are you going?” 

“Oh, so now you notice me.” You snapped, pulling your arm away from him and shoving your hands into the pockets of your sweater. “Don’t you have a party to attend? I’m sure that girl is wondering where you went, don’t want to keep her waiting.” You sassed, shaking your head in disbelief as you turned around to start walking again. 

“Oh come on! I was just dancing! It’s not like you were going to come out there and dance with me.” He excused, keeping up with your pace as you walked further away from the house, the music becoming nothing more than muffled background noise. 

You could only roll your eyes, trying to quicken your steps. “Well go keep dancing, I’m not stopping you, I don’t want to see it though.” You mumbled, passing the car that you both had driven there in on your way down the street. “Seriously, you don’t have to follow me. I kind of don’t want you to follow me, actually. So if you could just give me some space, that would be great.” 

You were trying to be cordial, you were trying to not make a scene. All you wanted to do was go home and curl up on the couch and watch a movie or read a book. You literally wanted to do anything but be at the party or anywhere near it. “What, so you’re just gonna walk home?” He questioned, his voice growing louder now, the irritation fueled by a few too many drinks lacing the words. “You’re so damn sensitive! It’s not like I was fucking her!” 

“Well you might as well have been!” You finally snapped in response to his yelling, pausing in the middle of the sidewalk to turn to face him. “Her hands were all over you and yours were all over her! She was practically fucking naked!” A group of people had at some point gathered around you and Jisung, it seemed to be a natural human reaction to be as nosy as possible whenever an argument is heard, and for once, you didn’t care about the attention you were getting. “I’m sure you’d be just as pissed off if I was dancing like that with some other guy back in there.” 

He laughed loudly, looking around at all the people that surrounded you, as if looking for their pre-approval before speaking. “As if any of those guys in there would want to dance with you. I have nothing to worry about, I don’t have to worry about that happening.” The crowd around you started cheering and laughing, as if those words were the final burn, and in a way, they were. They were earth shattering, soul crushing, and revelating in the sense that you finally saw just the type of person he was. 

Did you think that he was going to chase after you when you walked off? Not really, you knew he wasn’t that type of person, not in front of his friend group. He didn’t want to look like a loser, and he instead opted on making you feel like one in front of the very people that you told him would make fun of you constantly. 

Even though you knew he wouldn’t come after you, it didn’t change the fact that you were disappointed and even heartbroken that it took another 30 minutes for him to come walking through the front door. You had long since changed out of the outfit that you had been wearing and into your pajamas, sitting on the couch and watching the movie that you had planned on watching with him. 

“Sweetheart…” He whispered the pet name reluctantly as he closed the door softly behind him. You were laying on the couch, so maybe he just thought that you were sleeping, although you found it almost comical that he gave a shit about you now. “I’m home…” 

“Yay” You muttered in the most unenthusiastic way possible, pausing the movie before turning off the tv. “I’m going to bed. You can sleep on the couch, or the floor. I don’t even give a shit, just don’t try to lay next to me.” It’s not that you wanted the argument to carry over into the house, you were simply informing him that the last place you wanted to be right now was beside him. 

“Look, I know you’re still mad about me dancing with that girl but-” 

“It has nothing to do with the girl!” You retorted sharply, running your fingers through your hair and wanting nothing more than to rip out the strands that got stuck, the stress from his blatant stupidity setting you off. “You humiliated me in front of the very people that you know hurt me anyway. And then you go and hurt me worse than any of them ever could because I for some reason thought that I was more important to you than your fucking popularity.” 

His eyes widened, and it was just another slap in the face that he seemed so shocked about it. “What do you mean? You’re blowing this way out of proportion. If you’re talking about what I said back there, I didn’t mean it to hurt you… I just meant that no one would dance with you because they know you’re my girlfriend.” 

It was mind boggling how stupid he thought you were, how he thought you’d really fall for that shit and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Jisung. I know exactly what you meant when you said it, that’s why you looked to all of those fucking idiots before the words even left your mouth. You want their approval so bad, well good for you, you fucking got it.” His head was shaking vigorously as he inched closer to you, and you continued to step back until you were against the island in the kitchen. “You can stay here, you can pretend that everything is okay until the week is up… But once we’re out of here… I’m done. Clearly you value your own image more than my emotions, and I’m not gonna hate you for that, but I’m also not going to continue to be your girlfriend when clearly I’m clearly not respected.” 

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Y/N!” His hands flew up in the air, and the false act of sincerity was now gone as his own anger and irritation boiled over. “You’re gonna throw away 4 years of a perfectly good relationship because of one little comment? I wasn’t even trying to hurt you when I said it, you’re being a little bit childish about this, don’t you think?” 

“How do you think that wouldn’t hurt me?” You scoffed, making your way to the bedroom and pausing at the door, turning to look at him once more before heading in. “This might be a hard thing to ask of you… But can you at least respect me enough to stay away from me, respect the fact that I’m done, we’re done. I don’t want to talk about it anymore, I just want to sleep. Can you do that?” You didn’t give him the chance to respond before going into the room and shutting the door behind you, making sure it was locked just to save yourself from the possibility of swayed emotions if he decided to sneak in in the middle of the night. 

4 years of a perfectly good relationship, and maybe people would think you were crazy for trashing it, maybe they’d agree with him in saying that you’re childish for letting things get like this over a little comment. To those people, and to him, you’d say they didn’t understand, they didn’t know you, and much like your now ex boyfriend, they didn’t respect you. What happens in college should stay in college, and that’s exactly how you wanted it to be. After the week was over, you wanted nothing more than to forget tonight and the years that you wasted on the man that sat crying in your living room. 

[pugh-bug]

No.42 Chapter 3

Art Donaldson x reader slow burn friends to lovers

Sorry for the wait! The day I set aside to get loads done on this I ended up having to visit a family member in hospital, he’s much much better now. Anyway oversharing. I hope you enjoy this chapter! I loved writing it. Let me know if you wanna be added to my tag list 💕

Part 1

Part 2

——————————————————————

You woke up on Saturday morning to a missed text from Art.

7:58am - text from Art

Sorry if I woke you when I left. Gone to play hard court today hope you slept alright on that couch.

The sudden realisation that you were not in fact in your bed hit you almost as hard as the loose spring in your back. You groaned, reaching for some leftover pizza. None left. You groaned again.

9:26am - text to Art

Did you eat all your pizza?

To your surprise the boy replied immediately, showcasing his ability to read your mind.

9:27am - text from Art

Afraid so :) Look in the fridge if you’re so hungry

The fridge, despite the tightness of your apartment, had never looked so far away. You’d rather wait the nine hours for Art to return and pass food to you through a funnel. He could create some sort of feeding tube, perhaps he could fashion it out of one of the dozen tennis ball containers Patrick left lying around. You hadn’t seen the floor in years.

It took you almost thirty minutes to peel your lifeless body off the sofa and trudge the eight metres to the fridge. Before all of your fingers had grasped the cold metal you caught it. The smell.

The month you and Patrick were flat hunting had been a difficult one, full of stress and disappointments. A week before you found the flat you now called home, Art had found crying outside your favourite pancake place. You didn’t know if Patrick had texted him, giving him a heads up of your less than stellar mood and where to find you, or if he had simply ran into you by accident but one minute he was there.

The two of you had shared your favourite, strawberry and kiwi pancakes with whipped cream, despite having never spent time alone together previously and it hadn’t been awkward. Any awkwardness had come from your inability to keep your emotions to yourself and not a mess for all to see. Art hadn’t minded in fact, unbeknownst to you, he’d greatly enjoyed your company and had had a shitty day himself before your talk.

10:02am - text to Art

Did I ever mention I love you living here??

Sitting proudly in the fridge, in between Patrick’s abandoned pasta and your pathetic amount of cheese, was a plate of strawberry and kiwi pancakes. You looked at the pile of washing up and noticed essence of strawberry still dripping from the chopping board next to a whisk and bowl.

‘God damn…’ you actually moaned aloud at the first bite. Not only were they delicious but they’d been made especially for you for no reason. No one had ever made you breakfast before, unless you counted the time Patrick threw a box of muffins at your head to wake you up for school. It often didn’t take a great amount of effort to impress you, something maybe a therapist needed to hear about, but you felt justified being impressed with Art for this. They were truly wonderful.

10:20am - text from Art

Come thank me in person if you want, Liam is taking another break

You couldn’t help but smile at his little dig at Liam, whether intentional or not it told you everything you needed to know: Art was the better player. Art was always the better player, he usually wiped the floor with anyone who wasn’t Patrick.

It was only a twenty minute walk to Stanford and although you were ashamed to admit it … you had nothing better to do on a Saturday morning. You decided to pack your laptop, so you could kid yourself that this was a productive thing and not just an excuse to watch Art sweat. The damn thing wouldn’t even get opened and you knew it.

It was a hot day, even for Summer it was unforgiving. You pulled at your tank top, attempting to negate any sweat stains by leaving a gap between your wet skin and the thin fabric. No such luck, the car window reflection of yourself showed you the harsh reality. How did Art do it? How did he look sexy whilst sweating? You felt like a drowned dog, heaving and panting in the back of a muggy car trying to see past the drops of sweat in your lashes.

You reached Stanford earlier than you expected and to your great satisfaction, saw no Art present. That gave you ample time to tidy yourself up in the toilets before meeting him. The college had crisp air con, much better than the pathetic excuse for a fan you and Patrick would crowd round on hot days.

Art didn’t text you directions because he didn’t need to. He knew you’d visited Patrick enough times to know your way around all the tennis courts, hard or otherwise. It didn’t take you long to find the right one.

‘Fuck!’

You scanned the indoor courts for the source of the outburst. Art, third court from the left and he was not happy. For a moment you teetered on your feet, unsure if it was better to wait a bit before interfering with their clearly tense match. Before you could make a decision however-

‘Y/N!’

Liam spotted you, putting his racket down immediately to wave you over. He’d once gotten drunk and told Patrick how much he liked you but that it had been so long ago that you’d almost forgotten and his new girlfriend was a tennis star. On the ‘up and up’ as Patrick’s dad would say.

Although Liam’s hug was intense, sweaty and pretty uncomfortable you were too focused on Art to cringe. He was rubbing his face with his hands, looking more pained than you’d ever seen him. You didn’t know why. He’d been playing well before you arrived.

Noticing the object of your frown, Liam suddenly grinned even wider. ‘He just lost the third set.’ Art took a large swig of water, not noticing the way you stared in awe at the angle of his jaw and the wet curls on his forehead. He was too focused on the racket he was clutching fiercely enough to force the veins of his forearm to pull your attention.

‘I know it’s not over yet,’ Liam panted slightly, clearly Art had still run him ragged. ‘But this never happens - never.’ In the years they’d played together, Liam had never beaten Art. Not in singles or doubles. Not on hard court. Not on clay or grass. Never. You were not convinced, however, that poor Liam had never won a set before so you voiced your opinion without thinking.

‘Art, you can still win. It’s fine!’

Art shot you a glare. It didn’t last long but it burned you a little, the intensity of it. He wanted so badly for you to be right, for it to not matter to him. ‘It’s just a game’ well it wasn’t to Art. It was his entire future and if he lost - if he lost ever - it was him throwing that future away.

‘You’ll win the fourth.’ You smiled, reassuringly. That lifted Art a little and bruised his partner.

‘I thought we were stopping for a bit since Y/N’s here.’ Art watched your face for a reaction, daring you to decide for the three of them. Without removing your eyes from Art you smiled. ‘No, no. I’ll watch.’

You watched them play for another hour and a half. Art just won the fourth set, by the narrowest of margins but that gave him the confidence boost he badly needed to destroy Liam in the fifth. Th-wack! Smash. Th-wack! Slice. Th-wack! Topspin. You were honestly confused why Liam bothered serving. If it had been you - well - let’s just say the floor would have made a more than sufficient bed. It was certainly making a sufficient seat for you to watch Liam get massacred. God was Art good.

‘You win…’ Liam was dripping, his white shirt almost see-through. ‘I need a sec…’ So did you. It was practically a workout just watching them. You clapped as Art walked over to you, looking very satisfied with his win. ‘You happy now?’

‘Very.’

As Liam rung out his shirt, Art gestured to the court with his racket. ‘You and me. One game.’ His eyes were full of amusement.

‘Ha.’

You’d die.

‘One set?’ He smirked, desperate for you to humour him. Not today. ‘Absolutely not.’ You laughed, standing up.

‘Actually, I’d love lunch right now,’ Liam’s suggestion was a necessity. ‘After a shower.’ And so was his afterthought. They both needed one desperately. Art’s hair didn’t even look blonde anymore.

‘Yeah you two go, I’ll wait then we can get food. I’m not super hungry but I can always eat.’

Liam was already rushing to the showers, practically leaving a pool of loser evidence behind him but Art heard. He looked like he was waiting for something from you and for a moment, in your haze, you wondered what. Oh!

‘The pancakes,’

‘Hm.’

‘De-licious.’

‘Good.’

You could tell he was happier with your compliment than he was letting on. The truth was Art craved praise, mostly for tennis but for anything he accomplished. It didn’t matter if he’d made a three tier cake, organised a trip or won every set in a match he wanted to know he’d done good.

‘Seriously, how did you even find the recipe?’ The two of you walked together out of the hall. ‘I’ve been asking the staff for years, pretty sure they hate me now actually.’

‘I have my ways.’ He grinned. ‘Now, I’m gonna go shower-‘

‘Good, you stink.’

‘Fuck off.’

Chapter 4

Masterlist

Taglist: @gatorgirl007 @imblushingrn

[agoodroughandtumble]

Vienna - Zoro x Reader

Status: Part 2 of 2 [Part 1 is Sanji x Reader] Summary: Inspired by the Ultravox song - Reader is going through a break up. Zoro offers some words of comfort Warning: 18+, Language, angst

Your heart hurt. Your nose hurt from all of the less than preferable tissues. Your chest hurt from heaving. Your head hurt from crying so much. And you were fucking exhausted. Not just from crying or feeling sorry for yourself – although you had done plenty of that. You were exhausted from everyone on the crew knowing your business and constantly evading their questions, shrugging of their pitying looks with a joke and a laissez-faire attitude and a spring in your step, and pretending that everything was a-ok. You wanted to drown, to suffocate, to get crushed under as much rubble as your heart had been buried under. But, more importantly, you wanted to get drunk and forget about everything. You wanted to dance and laugh and flirt and not even remember the name of the person who had broken your heart less than a week ago.

“Do you want to get absolutely shit-faced?” You asked Zoro, although it wasn’t really a question as you sat down next to him on the deck and placed two bottles of sake in between the two of you.

Zoro raised an eyebrow. “Do you think that’s a good idea? Given the…” he searched for the right word. “Situation?”

You scoffed and took a swig. “As if you need an excuse to drink.”

The swordsman studied you curiously. You had been surprisingly upbeat the last couple of days, uncharacteristically so, which had only made sense when Nami had let slip your sort of on-off-whatever-it-was-relationship had ended. Not your decision. Everyone else thought you were taking it in your stride. Zoro knew you well enough to know otherwise. “No,” he said trying to prize the bottle from your hand, “But maybe a reason to get shit-faced.”

You pouted. Normally Zoro of all people would find any excuse to have a drink with you but for some frustrating reason he was choosing the worst time to stop playing ball. You took another sip – relishing the burn – before passing the bottle to your slightly begrudging drinking partner. “Well if you don’t want to you can fuck off. I can drink perfectly well by myself.”

You let out a small, irritated sigh, clenching your fists slightly. Being a dick to Zoro hadn’t been your plan – especially when you were just being pathetic and taking everything out on the only person who would actually understand that you were Not Doing Well. “I’m sorry. I’m just-”

“I know.”

Silence.

You couldn’t work out whether it was out of awkwardness or a mutual understanding – either way you were unable to think of anything of anything to say him – to explain how much you just wanted company. Maybe his company. Fuck. Maybe you were already shit-faced. Still, you picked up the other bottle – it would be rude to let Zoro drink by himself after all.

With each second that passed you could feel the tension building. Irritatingly, Zoro seemed completely unaware, and completely engaged with his bottle.

“Turns out I’m not good at break ups.” You half laughed, trying to relief some of the ever building tension.

“I don’t think anyone is. Especially when it wasn’t their choice.”

You tensed, his words going straight for the jugular. Anger began to rise at his callousness. “Right. Well, thanks for that.”

He remained unresponsive.

Your fists were now clenching so tightly you could feel fingernails digging into your palm. “Fuck, you’re such an arsehole.” Your tone was deflated, accepting. Of course this was all the emotional depth you were going to get.

Another silence.

Fuck, you hated him. Hated that for some foolish reason he would be anything other than himself. You angrily swigged at the sake in the vain hope that at some point it would start to kick in and suddenly you would forget all of your troubles.

“I don’t get it.”

You glared at him. “Get what?”

“Him. You. I don’t get it.”

Your eyes narrowed. If he was just going to be insulting you would much rather go back to drinking in silence. “Explain.” Unsurprisingly you were in no mood for niceties.

Zoro shrugged, taking another drink. “You’re… you. And he’s an arsehole. Obviously it wasn’t going to work.”

You sighed. He was right. Of course he was right. Zoro knew you better than anyone else. You let your head rest against his shoulder. It was pointless to deny the obvious any longer. Your fingers fidgeted with the bottle label. “I just didn’t think I was that repulsive.” Leaning against his shoulder you could feel a low chuckle reverberating. Despite yourself, you felt your heart warm a little.

“You’re not repulsive.”

“I’m just an idiot.” Brushing some stray hairs from your face you took another drink before speaking again, “You know you don’t actually have to indulge me. You of all people can tell me to fuck off and go to bed.”

“You’re not an idiot.” Zoro replied, pointedly ignoring everything else you had said. “You just have terrible taste in men.”

“Not always.” You sat up, shuffling away from him slightly so you could sit opposite him. Despite your best efforts, despite everything you were telling yourself to ignore it wasn’t just the sake causing your cheeks to blush as his eyes met yours. You bit your lip – feeling as though you were on a cliff’s edge about to jump over – either to dive into the cool abyss or crash head first into the jagged rocks. But Zoro was there. So, so close. And despite everything, you knew deep down there was one specific reason why you had wanted to drown your sorrows with him and no one else. There was one specific reason all of your relationships failed and Zoro was the one picking up the pieces afterwards. There was one specific reason you so desperately wanted Zoro.

The kiss was chaste, nervous, begging him to respond. He didn’t. You pulled away sharply, an all too different flush on your cheeks and the lingering feeling of his lips on yours and all the guilt that came with it.

[maple-the-awesome]

You Sacrifice Yourself for Them Part 2/3

Part 1 || Part 3

Pairings: Four, Hyrule, & Warrior x GN Reader

Requested by anonymous: HIIIII OMG I JUST WANRED TO SAY i lovelovrloveloveeeee the way you write so much!!!!!!! ur recent loz post had me kicking and squealing in my sear hehehe T_T could i request a scenario with the chain in a situation where the reader sacrifices themselves to protect the boys? im imagining things begging the enemy to take them instead, protecting them from a hit or even something funny like taking the blame for a mistake they made!!! id love to see some angst from you!!!!! THANK U AND HAVE A GREAT WEEK!!!!!💖💖💖💖

Zelda Masterlist 💙 Fandom Masterlist

A surprise attack - that's what had awaited the group. They had their guards only slightly down, still keeping an ear for danger, yet that didn't do much to protect them from the onslaught of monsters who soon surrounded everybody faster than anyone could draw their swords.

It wasn't a huge deal at first, at least for ten seasoned heroes. They've been in troubling situations before, both during their own journeys and when together, so they all know how this sort of thing works, in fact some were even having fun with it, making a competition out of how many enemies they could each take down. Then everything went south - fast, too.

That troublesome lizard the Chain has been tracking for weeks - or has it been months now? - appeared without a sound onto the battlefield, going successfully unnoticed amongst the chaos as he creeped through the shadows waiting for an opportunity to strike. Everyone had gotten pretty spread out from each other, pushed apart by their enemies not that they took the time to notice nor worry. This meant the lizard could've realistically chosen anyone as his victim, it was dumb luck that his eyes landed upon Four who was finally beginning to break a sweat as he tried to one-up a Moblin.

Maybe a second passed between that Moblin disappearing into purple smoke and a blur entering his vision. All Four knew for certain was that he just barely blocked the lizard's sword which had been swung his way with such force that it knocked him off his feet. He's been knocked down before, though, and planned to fight without hesitation until -

"- GET AWAY FROM HIM!" It was you. Four didn't even realize you were so close and before he could object, you were engaged in your own little battle with that lizard, successfully drawing its attention away from your downed friend, however your efforts were not without cost. 

You got hurt. Bad, too (although Four would say any injury is horrid if felt upon your skin). You were thrown to the ground just like he had, the difference being you weren't as fortunate as to block the lizard's sword, rather taking a direct hit which sent you crumbling to your knees. Any other day, Four would've been amazed by your determination when you still tried to stand your ground with a wobble, but it was no time to be in awe of your skill. He doesn't doubt that if it wasn't for Warrior and Twilight taking on the lizard next, you wouldn't have won that battle you so desperately fought.

Now Four feels as if his breath is caught in his throat while he stands by, helplessly watching as Hyrule heals you. You're in better spirits than he thinks you should be, awake and alert, but winching in hissed breaths whenever moving too quickly. He can't help feeling responsible for this, cursing himself for not having seen that lizard earlier. If he had, he would've been able to hold his own ground better, giving you no reason as to rush in so suddenly. Of course, you have a different outlook on the situation:

"I hope you aren't kicking yourself too hard over there, Smithy," It's like you can read his mind - or perhaps you can just read his facial expression. You raise an eyebrow at him almost teasingly as if your tunic isn't stained in your own blood, "I was the one who decided to jump in, you didn't ask me to - and I'd do it again if it means you're safe, just so you know."

Four huffs from where he sits mere inches away from you. Simply happy to see you alive, he didn't have time to care about the fact that he’s been holding your hand nonstop since first getting you out of the fray which had been a good ten minutes ago, "Shouldn't I be the one saying that, not the other way around? What is this, the second time you've saved my butt?"

"I don't think you almost falling off a stool counts," You argue, but after a moment of thought, you give his hand a squeeze, your voice a bashful whisper, "...And who says we can't both say it, hmm? Both be willingly to protect each other with our lives?"

"Because then it would be contradictory - If I'm willing to die for you and you're willing to die for me, then we'd both die" 

"At least we'll still be together.”

Four frowns, but to your surprise, he proposes no argument. He instead nods eventually, squeezing your hand back as he looks off across camp in silent thought, “...I guess that’s logical. I’d just prefer we stay together in life, though.”

"You guys are sappy as hell."

"Shut up Legend."

You've had a well deserved afternoon of peace - at least the best you can probably wish for given the circumstances. You don't necessarily have a lot of scented soaps on hand or even access to a proper bath for that matter, and despite being near a town, you’ve been rationing your rupees since it’s slim pickings collecting them from only monster drops and those clay pots everyone fights over. Still, you did manage to sneak away from all the boys for some time alone, soaking in one of the nice little hot springs found around Death Mountain.

Still patting your hair with your now damp towel, you wander back into camp with dreams of a pleasant meal to finish your day with, after all this is Wild's universe, so you would think he'd know the area well enough to bless you all with something wonderful made from nearby resources. With this said, you're pretty surprised when your nose scrunches up in disgust upon a disastrous smell filling your nostrils. 

It doesn't take long to notice the source, having to push through a few bodies to discover what everyone is glaring at: a pot of bubbling soup of a color you hadn't realized could even exist...and a texture you wish you didn't know existed.

"What happened?" You whisper to Legend who's closest to you. He shrugs as if this sight isn't all that bad, although you're certain he's already thought of some excuse that can get him out of eating tonight.

"Hyrule messed with Wild's cooking again."

"How? Wild's been watching him like a hawk since the last time."

"He wasn't here. He came down to the shops to get some things and when we all walked back together, we found the food like this."

Oh yeah. You remember now. Having overlooked an ingredient for his soup, Wild decided to run down to Goron Town where the others had already gone for a quick supply run and to question locals about weird portals. Soon after he left, the Traveler promised to watch over camp while you went to check out the hot springs as you’ve been dying to do. During your excitement, it failed to cross your mind that he’d be left unattended with Wild’s half-finished food.

"What did you add?" Wild has a hand on his hip, the other holding a ladle that's pointed directly towards Hyrule's chest accusingly as the poor boy sinks into himself, trying to stumble out a response. 

This is far from the first time he’s messed with cooking despite everyone agreeing he should be banned from so much as touching a spoon, yet you can’t help feeling bad for the hero regardless of his bad habit in not keeping his curiosity under control. Hyrule did help you today. If it wasn’t for his kind offer to watch over camp on his own, you would’ve had to put off visiting the hot springs until the others camp back, drastically lowering your chances of being able to sneak away for some alone time. 

“I’m the one messed with the soup,” All eyes are suddenly on you, not a single one looking convinced, but you continue anyways, “You said that you thought it needed ‘a little something more’, so I figured I’d try to help with that. I didn’t expect my additions to cause such -...mildly repulsive results…I’m sorry, Wild. I’ll remake dinner tonight if you want.”

Wild narrows his eyes, humming in thought for a good few seconds before announcing, “I don’t believe you! But…”

He then turns on his heel, dramatically dipping his ladle into the soup. The quote-on-quote ‘liquid’ doesn’t drip back into the pot once he brings up a ladle-full, instead sticking to the utensil before flopping into the soup with a heavy ‘splash’, “...I might be able to fix it if I add more broth - but this is the last warning I’m going to give: the next time anyone tampers with my cooking, I’ll only be making food with a jar of goron spice added in from then on, you hear?!”

Everyone is quick to agree, although Hyrule shows some brief hesitation until you elbow him roughly in the side. At that point, he eagerly nods, giving Wild a little piece of mind as he tries to figure out how to fix this dinner ‘you’ve’ so cruelly ruined.

“...Thank you for that,” Hyrule whispers to you, bashfully joining you beside fire as you lean back and shrug casually, “I really owe you this time.”

“Eh, don’t mention it. I already owed you for allowing me a nice break,” You nod your head towards the path that leads to the hot springs before peeking open an eye and glaring at him, your voice suddenly stern which sends shivers down his spine, “But seriously, dude, do. not. touch. Wild’s cooking again. Forced to eat meals laced with goron spice is where I draw the line in my love towards you.”

“N-Noted.”

No matter how tightly he squeezes his eyes shut, all Warrior can see among the darkness is stars that seem to glow brighter whenever another wave of pain shoots through his nervous system. He'd like to say he's had worse, although this is truly in his top five - maybe even top three. He can't adjust his body without grinding his teeth, yet he tries anyways, digging the end of his sword into the ground and using it as support to get himself up, but each inch he moves is agony to his battered body.

The moblin - if he remembers correctly, it's from Sky's universe - follows the bloody trail that had been left behind after it had previously tossed Warrior, stalking closer to the downed hero who can only curse his luck. Of course something like this happens on his turn to patrol. He shouted for help not long ago, although given the distance he's gone from camp, it's fairly possible no one heard. Even with the moblin raising its spear, he finds himself more concerned with the others than himself, praying to Hylia they don't get ambushed like he had -

"- HEY! OVER HERE YOU OVERGROWN PIG!" The moblin pauses, forced to turn its entire body to see where the voice had come from. This allows Warrior to see around it, spotting you running towards them with your sword drawn. He might've been relieved at this point if not for quickly noticing the fact that you're completely alone.

"N-NO! Don -...DON'T!" Warrior tries his best to stand up and reach for his sword, however he immediately crumbles onto his knees, hissing in pain as his free hand hurries to cover his wounded side. 

You don't listen, although you most likely didn't even hear him, too busy going face-to-face with the moblin. It reacts to your charge by holding its shield out in front of itself, yet you take no issue in running right up it, stepping onto the top edge which you use to kick yourself into the air over the moblin's head. You successfully catch yourself on your feet behind and, before it can recover from this surprise, you attack, hitting the monster as many times as you can manage. 

It cries out and angrily swipes its spear towards you (while Warrior holds his breath in worry), but even then you're faster, swiftly leaping out of harm's way and slicing its side in return. The moblin huffs, raising its spear to throw, however it stalls, eyes rolling back into its head before blood loss finally overcomes it, causing it to crash into the ground with a loud 'THUD'.

"Warrior!" You take no time celebrating your victory, hurrying to your friend where you fall to your knees and immediately begin looking over his injuries. His tunic is soaked in crimson at this point particularly around his side, making it difficult to pinpoint the exact damage. You curse yourself for not having gotten here sooner even though you truly did run as quickly as your feet could carry you after hearing his distressed shouts for aid. Thank Hylia you happened to have been foraging not too far away. If you had stayed in camp with the others, you would've surely lost a beloved member of your group.

"Here. Stay still," You order, reaching into your pocket and uncorking a bottle you kept there. A pink glow is free to flutter out and to your friend, practically dancing over his wounds in careful work that brings instant comfort shown through his sigh.

"...Why'd you do that?" Warrior wonders aloud, earning a confused look from you.

"Would you rather me have dragged you back to camp for Hyrule -?"

"- I mean why did you take on that moblin like that? Alone no less."

You huff, taking offense despite knowing full well that he isn't insulting your skill. He’s just terrible at wording stuff (all Links are), "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to steal your thunder there. I was only thinking it would be better to save your dumb butt than to take my time personally gathering an army to collect your corpse afterwards.”

Warrior clicks his tongue, forcing his eyes away from you, "...I'm thankful, don't get me wrong, but it was still incredibly stupid...You could've gotten just as hurt as me..."

"Hypocrite," You huff under your breath, although he still hears and pouts as a result. Gently, you take his chin, directing him to face you again, "I get that you're a captain and all, thus you feel responsible for protecting others, but there's nothing wrong with admitting defeat and trusting someone else to take charge if necessary. Your ego isn't worth your life, after all, I’ll only mourn one of the two.”

Warrior blushes, trying to look anywhere except your eyes, yet you refuse to let him do so, too amused by his adorable embarrassment to let go of his chin right away.

"I...I suppose you're right."

"I always am."

"...I'll be sure to remember that from here on out."

[thebadjoe]

BAD JOE'S DRDT CH.2 CRIME SOLVING THEORY PART 6

Wow! It's been a long while, but it's finally here! DRDT Chapter 2 is back with part 2 starting since more than a week ago!

...Oh? What's that? There's some reveals that is damaging my theory and I should get to fixing? Awwww, man.... what a drag.... I am so doomed... nanchatte!

Anyways, hi! It's me, the dude who makes-overly-complex-and-ridiculously-long-theories-in-the-hopes-of-trying-to-solve-the-murder-case-that-not-many-people-agree-with-for-more-reasons-than-my-theory's-word-count. (Okay, the last part about the reasons is probably not true... yet!)

I am back yet again with some more updates regarding my theory.

NOOOOO!!! NOT AGAIN!!! PLEASE, I DON'T WANNA READ ANOTHER GODDAMN DICTIONARY LENGTH OF A THEORY POST!!!!

Woah! Calm down, imaginary self that is under the impression that some people were way too overwhelmed by my latest part of the theory post! You have nothing to worry about!

It would be silly of me to rewrite all of it again with some small changes. I will of course link up my part 5 later as source of reference, but really, all I'm gonna be doing here today is point out the newest problems with my theory ever since episode 12 and 13 and give my personal thoughts on those.

Also, to make sure that people hasn't forgotten what I've been all about since the beginning, I will do a short recap of my theory, displaying only what's most relevant to the murder case.

Besides, ain't no way I'm writing something this long ever again (except for maybe trying to solve the future chapters, but that's a matter for the far future).

With that said, I feel obliged to point out that this is spoilers for the fangan Danganronpa Despair Time Chapter 2, up until episode 13.

With that out of the way, let's get to it!

Hey look! I still remember how to use that show more button again, hurray! (I'm really sorry again to @1moreff-creator and everyone else who's been reading my very first posts last year that didn't have a show more button)

So, first things first, I'd like to apologize in advance because as amazing the episode 12 and 13 were, I will not be doing a reaction post of said episodes. I think I'm just too lazy to actually display my whole stream of consciousness through two whole videos and I think it is safe to say that practically all of us had a very similar reaction to those episodes.

What was the common reaction, you may ask? Well, it's simple, really... it went something like... OMG, THIS IS SO FUCKING HYPE! OMG!!! THAT WAS SO INSANE!!! THE DRAMA!!! DAVID BEING DAVID!!! THE LEVI REVEAL!!! THE FLASHBACK PART 2 SCENE!!! OMG, WHAT IS EDEN DOING?!! AREI IS HOLDING DAVID'S HANDS?! WE'RE FINALLY TALKING ABOUT THE MURDER METHODS?!?! OMG, SO GOOD!!!

...right? Yeah! I thought so! :D

Although I may not be showing proper and precise reactions to these episodes, if you're interested, I'd definitly recommend reading @venus-is-thinking 's, reactions on episode 12 and episode 13, @1moreff-creator 's reactions on episode 12 and episode 13 and @accirax 's reactions on episode 12 and episode 13. They're pretty good reads (and no, I'm not just saying this because they all believe that Eden is the culprit, I swear!).

And for those who are totally blind or new to my shenanigans, yes, I do believe that Eden is the culprit behind this murder case.

There is indeed a few problems that arose ever since the latest episodes, so to make sure that everyone is up to speed with what I'm gonna be talking about, I'm now going to be doing a short recap of the events, according to me.

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

THE RECAP

DAY 1 : The day where everyone receives their mixed up secrets and explore the second floor. DAY 2 : The day where the attempted murder on Ace happened. DAY 3 : The day where Whit suggests David to chill for the evening in the relaxation room. DAY 4 : The day (morning) of the body discovery announcement.

Ever since Arei bullied Eden who then cried and exited the playground on DAY 2, that was what triggered Eden to decide to commit murder for the sake of escaping this hellish killing game. Knowing that her secret is that she kissed a girl, I deduced that she's probably trying to escape because she misses her beloved dearly.

So while she was off screen during most of that day, she spent time making plans for the murder set up and narrative, which is why she decided to share Arturo's secret (as seen in the flashback).

During the evening of DAY 2, Ace was working out in the gym, then he hears a conversation happening between David and Arei in the relax room. The conversation that Ace was quietly listening to did not happen in the evening of DAY 3, but rather the evening of DAY 2. Ace lied about when he was listening to that conversation.

At some point during the conversation or perhaps even after the conversation, Eden sneaks up on Ace and knocks him out with the turpentine that anyone could've gotten access to that day. Ace is Eden's chosen murder victim.

Sometime later, Eden eitheir used a letter or called out Arei's name to lure her into the playground or somewhere close to knock her unconscious with that very same turpentine. She then moves Arei's body into the relaxation room to lock her up inside because of the specific nighttime rules regarding that room.

Eden also brought old spares of clothing to cover Arei's body to make sure she doesn't get stained with starch from the water misting formula from the relaxation room.

During the night of DAY 2, she prepares the murder mechanism in the gym with some needed tools from the storage room and some wire that she took out from possibly a grandfather clock that she may have in her dorm. I deduced it as such because of Whit's description of everyone's dorms being suited to their needs.

I also deduced that there is actually a switch to turn on and off the fans, which is important since the attempted murder involved the fans. As Eden finished setting it up, as she was about to clear up with evidence, she heard someone using the elevator.

She hid in the dress up room, then Nico enters the second floor, looking for Ace to kill him. As Nico explores the gym, Teruko shortly enters the elevator to get to the second floor as well.

Teruko, looking for her spares, runs into Eden, who was hidden in the dress up room. After some talk, they heard a loud noise coming from the gym, which they both take a look inside.

Upon seeing this mess of a crime, Eden realised that her murder plan failed and that she needs to come up with a plan B really quick. So while she is taking time to "process this emotionally", Teruko was investigating.

Eden finally comes up with a plan B and figured that she needed to get her hands on the roll of tape ASAP. She managed to do so with a sleight of hand when Ace "suddenly wakes up", knocking Eden out of the way, distracting Teruko in the process.

Later that night, Eden proceeds with her plan B by making a murder mechanism in the playground. She also took the rope from the storage room. Once it's all properly set up, all's left was waiting for the relaxation to unlock at 8:00 AM on DAY 3.

In the morning of DAY 3, she retrieves Arei's unconscious body and proceeds with murdering Arei. Then, she proceeds to conceal the body somewhat behind the curtains in the relaxation room. She also grabs her glove, her monopad and the necessary materials in the dress up room for the next step of her plan.

She spends the rest of the morning to prepare her disguise trick. Then during lunchtime, Eden spends a short amount of time disguised as Arei to hide the actual time of death.

Once lunchtime is over, she returns to eitheir her or Arei's dorm to remove the disguise, spend time cleaning up, relax, power nap, etc. Then, during the evening of DAY 3, she spends time with Hu to fabricate her perfect alibi.

Later that evening, David explores the relaxation room. That's when he notices something wrong with the room and becomes the first person to discover Arei's dead body.

For some personal reasons, David brings the body back into the playground and hangs it by the swingset. Eitheir he or Eden (earlier in the morning) balls up the clothes and hides it in the closet of the dress-up room. Then, in the morning of DAY 4, David grabs everyone's attention to the fact that Arei is missing right before the secrets reveal. Then fast forward a bit, then we get the BDA of Arei

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

And there ya go, that's my recap regarding how I believe the murder case happened. Pretty short, eh?

HELL NO!!! THAT WAS STILL PRETTY LONG!!! AHHHHH!!!!

Eh... I guess I couldn't really make it that shorter, my bad! If I tried to make it any shorter than that, it would've been extremely confusing.

Ah! Speaking of which, if you're confused in the sense that it feels like none of this should work at all, and there's a lot of contradictions and whatnot, then I would heavily recommend reading my actual theory post. I am not going to spend time refuting with people in the comments about points I've already pointed out in my previous post.

However, if there are things that are unclear to you, things that you do not understand and want to know what I'm talking about, please, feel free to ask away! I will help in any way I can.

With that out the way, I guess I can now start with pointing out the pr-

HAH! THERE IS A MAJOR ISSUE WITH YOUR THEORY!!! BASED ON EPISODE 12, THE MURDER COULD'VE ONLY HAPPENED IN THE MORNING OF DAY 4 BECAUSE OF THE BODY SWING! YOU'RE DONE FOR!

Ah... yeah... that! Of course! That's not a problem!

!!!

Let's talk about it first, shall we? :D

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

AREI'S BODY SWING : CONFIRMED TIME OF DEATH???

I'd like to come clean with something, everyone. Ever since I came up with the theory that murder happened at a totally unexpected time, there was something that was constantly bothering me.

That's right, I was very well aware of the body swing happening during the BDA ever since the beginning.

HUH?! Then all this time, you wrote all of this despite knowing that?!

Correct! I'm really sorry about that, but please, understand that I had a very good reason for it. For you see... everytime I saw it, I was often under the impression that this was simply an eerie effect / animation, to give a more dramatic intensity towards the BDA, without meaning anything. I legit thought it could be a thing, I swear!

But despite all that... I couldn't help but feel uneasy about it. Deep down, I felt like that maybe there was an actual meaning to it, maybe it was an actual clue that I shouldn't disregard. But I figured that because of my theory beliefs, then it would be rather unlikely that it would be used as evidence.

But alas, I was wrong about that. The body swing plays a very important rule in determining what happened in this murder case. I cannot deny that fact, especially since Teruko brought it up, plain as day. Despite it seeming like it damages my theory, I'm thankful that the dev finally cleared that little doubt I had since then.

Then you admit it, the murder actually happened in the mor-

Oh, not so fast! Let's not jump to conclusions just yet, alright? Arei's body swinging by the swing set doesn't quite exactly prove that the murder occured during the morning of DAY 4. The body swing only proves that someone messed with the body by the swingset.

W-What?! That doesn't make sense! The murder clearly happened in the morning of DAY 4!

Nuh-uh, not quite. You believe it clearly happened in the morning because that's what the cast concluded on top of Charles pointing out that the culprit could've clearly fake the time of death by saving the fishes for later.

But unless we have decisive evidence that the murder happened in the morning, we can't be 100% sure that the murder happened in the morning of DAY 4.

From the looks of it, you just seem very desperate, if you ask me.

At first, when episode 12 released, I kind of was... up until I figured out a fairly logical solution to it. That's right! I have a way to explain who made the body swing and why.

You're not going to suggest that David did all of what he supposedly did in the evening of DAY 3, but instead in the morning of DAY 4, right?!

Nope! Not at all. Disregarding the facts that it wouldn't really make sense and that he'd have to move the body out of the relax room anyways before nighttime (because of the water misting rules), David actually has an alibi in the morning of DAY 4.

(As does Veronika too as she was with them in the cafeteria)

With all of these reasons mentioned above, as much as I initially wanted to make it somehow possible that David came back to the crime scene to mess with the body somehow, it just isn't possible.

So instead, someone else did it.

Then out with it already, you staller! Who is it?!

There is only one possible candidate that would make the most sense in that scenario : Eden. Eden is the person who messed with Arei's body in the morning of DAY 4.

WHHAAAAT?!?! WHY WOULD SHE DO THAT?! THAT'S SO RISKY!

That's what I initially thought at first, not gonna lie. But then... something hit me : Eden doesn't have an alibi for the morning of DAY 4 eitheir.

I thought that there would be absolutely no need for Eden to come back to the crime scene a certain short amount of time before the BDA, so instead, I needed to reverse my way of thinking.

What could she possibly aim to do that would prompt her to come back to the crime scene last minute?

Considering the facts (based on my theory, mind you) that she killed Arei in the morning of DAY 3, hid the body somewhere in the relaxation room, built up an evening to night alibi with Hu and that David was the first person to discover it during the evening, there is a simple explanation behind it.

Arei's BDA was meant to be triggered much earlier than the morning of DAY 4. The original intent behind this whole scheme was to have the BDA trigger during the evening of DAY 3.

That doesn't make sense!

No, that's wrong! It does make a whole lot of sense. Think about it. Let's say you were a participant in this killing game and were in David's shoes during the evening of DAY 3... you come across a dead body in the relaxation, what would you do?

!!!

That's right, you wouldn't just mess with the body and move it somewhere else, now would you? Aside from freaking out, the most natural and human thing to do would be to gather help.

If it were anyone else than David who discovered the body in that exact scenario, they would cry out for help, tell everyone that they found Arei dead inside the relaxation room, which would then result in a body discovery announcement.

But what if the person who found the body were to personally ask for Hu's and Eden's help, wouldn't that ruin her plan since it wouldn't trigger the BDA?

There's an easy solution to that. Eden could've simply decided to find more people to share the news to meet up with the corpse. This wouldn't ruin her plan in the slightest.

Quite the opposite, actually. If the body were to be discovered and trigger the BDA during the evening, it would solidify her air tight alibi even further as she wouldn't have any possible timeframe to commit murder in the evening as she was spending time with her friend Hu.

Ugh, so what? It didn't really happen anyways because of David being David! That doesn't change anything!

Actually, it does change things considerably. If you put yourself in the culprit's perspective where the whole intent was to have the body discovery happen in the evening of DAY 3 and that during the whole night, nothing happened, you would certainly find that very strange.

The culprit would be clearly confused, yet really curious to find out what even happened.

Couldn't she have taken a look much later during the night?

Perhaps, but she figured it would've been pointless. The reason why is that if she thought that nobody found the body, then the body would've still remained hidden in the relaxation room which would then be currently locked away because of the water misting.

So instead of checking it out during the late night of DAY 3, Eden decided to investigate during the very early morning of DAY 4, sometime past 7:30 AM.

But the relaxation room is still locked up until 8:00 AM! Why not wait until then?

It's simple! She just wanted to be there a little bit in advance to make sure she can enter the room as early as possible. And so... while she is waiting for the relaxation room to unlock, she probably figured that she should take a look around the other rooms, why not?

And thus, that leads to Eden finding the body being hung by the swingset, alongside fishes scattered around the floor for some reason.

To reconfirm, I still believe that David is the first person who discovered Arei's dead body in the relaxation room and that he's responsible for hanging her body alongside placing those fishes by the playground.

Okay, Eden discovers that the body has been moved to the playground? What now? Everything's already in place, so what could she possibly do with the dead body?

Well, since the BDA was not triggered on the evening of DAY 3, she figured that she may as well put Arei's monopad back into the corpse's pockets.

But what about her missing glove? Why didn't she return that as well if she wanted to return her monopad?

That's a good point, that's for sure. But there are two easy fixes to this counter argument. First one being that she simply forgot about the gloves. No one's really perfect, after all. She was so concerned about the body not being discovered yet that this completly slipped her mind.

The second fix would be that it would've been way too risky to try to retrieve the glove. Maybe initially, Eden, after she removed her disguise, she placed the clothes and the glove back into Arei's dorm. So if she wanted to retrieve the glove, she'd have to return to Arei's room, unlocking it with a monopad that isn't her own.

Would she really risk that again after making this much progress without getting caught so far? Like imagine if she tried to take that risk one last time only to get caught, that would be quite the devastating result, wouldn't it?

Ok, fine. Nevermind the gloves. Is that all she did?

Pretty much, yeah. She returned the monopad back into her pockets, which moved the body somewhat.

...

Well, it's also possible that she tripped and moved the body even more by accident. Or perhaps she felt like she was in such a hurry to avoid getting found out that she accidently bumped into Arei's dead body.

...Are you kidding me? There's no way that's gonna be enough to move the body for this long!

Well... maybe her being there at exactly 7:30 AM is not the exact time. She could've been there a couple minutes before 8:00 AM, which could make this possible.

But that's ridiculous! There's no way Eden is strong enough to make the body swing that way. To make the body swing for a good amount of time, she'd need more than just accidently bumping into the body! It needs considerable force.

And I'll stop you there. If you've read my last theory post, you should know by now that I'm a firm believer that because it's a work of fiction, anything that seems unlikely can become possible.

The main thing we should take from Arei's body swinging during the BDA is that at some point in time during the morning, someone messed with the body, proving that someone was there during the morning of DAY 4.

And there you go, that's my whole explanation as to how Arei's body was swinging during the BDA that doesn't necessarily mean that the murder occured during that exact morning.

If you're not quite convinced yet, there is a certain part of my theory that begins to make a lot more logical sense with this solution in mind. Take a look at this!

Thanks to the solution I suggested, these two lines become a lot more fitting to my updated theory. Here's why!

If Eden were to explore and find the body hanging by the swing set during the morning of DAY 4, she would know that at least 1 person found the body, but not who exactly.

Because of Whit's silly comment, Eden immediatly thought of the body in the playground and jumped to the worst conclusion : Whit is the person who found the body first.

So if they were to open the door to the playground, the BDA would not trigger since Eden is the culprit. So in a moment of panic, Eden uttered : "Teruko, wait--".

It is still pretty much the same as what I had in mind according to the previous part of my theory post, except that it works a whole lot better now that Eden personally saw the actual state of the dead body in the morning of DAY 4.

So there you have it. This seemingly major problem for my theory actually turned out to be very beneficial for my theory after all! Ah, the joys of making logical sounding deductions! My theory should be saf-

HAH! YOU THINK YOUR THEORY IS SAFE FROM HARM YET?! WRONG!!!! IN EPISODE 13, THEY ACTUALLY SHOWED HOW THE MURDER MECHANISM WORKED! NOT ONLY IS EDEN TOO WEAK TO OPERATE IT, BUT THEY PUT FISH WATER INSIDE THOSE JUGS! SINCE THEY REVEALED THAT MURDER METHOD, IT HAS TO BE THE SOLUTION. YOUR THEORY IS RUINED! GOOD DAY SIR!

Oh, you mean this?

Oh no, this murder mechanism is different from mine and this one requires a certain amount of strength that Eden possibly doesn't have! And the fishes! Since they brought it up, then there's no way my theory can work! Whatever shall I do??? It's joever.... just kidding!

I don't mean to alarm you guys, but the current proposed murder mechanism idea actually has flaws. Let's talk some more about the murder mechanism in the playground, shall we? :)

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

TERUKO'S CURRENT MURDER MECHANISM IDEA : RIGHT OR WRONG???

Before I get into it, I'd like to remind everyone that just because we've been shown how the murder may have been done for the first time means that's how it actually happened. Let's not forget that they spent so much time arguing and discussing about the secrets that they barely ever talked about the murder case in itself.

So if anything, episode 13 is practically just them beginning their actual work! Mistakes are bound to happen. We shouldn't jump to conclusions just yet. Besides, there is actually a problem with this murder mechanism.

I'll present it to you in pictures to show you what I'm talking about.

The taped up wrists. This was practically the decisive proof that this wasn't a suicide nor could it have been an assisted suicide. So now that they've introduced a murder mechanism in an actual episode... what's actually the point of the taped wrists in that scenario?

If the culprit used exactly this kind of murder mechanism, then there would be absolutely no need to tape up her wrists together.

Maybe it was to stop Arei from trying to struggle?

Nope. If that was the case, we would've seen much more signs of struggle coming from Arei. There may be scuffs on the ground, but there's absolutely no other form of injury on Arei aside from her broken neck.

Well, I saw a theory where the accomplice was Levi and he could've easily overpower her!

(I believe that was something that @1moreff-creator theorized, if I recall? At least, that was the theory pre part 2)

It used to be borderline possible, but not this time anymore! Thanks to the first two episodes of part 2 of chapter 2, it seems extremely unlikely that Levi wanted to work with the culprit as an accomplice.

Not only because of what we find out regarding his secret, what kind of character he is, but also because of something he said in episode 12.

I don't know about you, but this doesn't look like something an accomplice would say at all, right? If the culprit was someone who didn't have an alibi in the evening, it would be a different story, but the most fitting theory for having Levi work as an accomplice is to work for Eden, who happens to have an alibi in the evening as you already know.

So since we gotta take Levi out of the equation, then we don't really have much other possible candidates who could've easily overpower Arei to the point where taping up her wrists would've helped better on that regard.

Therefore, the most logical solution would be that Arei was knocked unconscious with the turpentine. But since that's the most likely scenario, then what's up with the taped wrists?

If the taped wrists weren't used to prevent any remote chance for Arei to try to get out of this situation, then it must've been used as part of the murder mechanism.

But since the murder mechanism as shown by Teruko doesn't explain the taped up wrists whatsoever, then this becomes a discrepancy. Therefore, that can't be quite the correct answer to solving the how this murder mechanism works.

And since this murder mechanism idea is flawed, it also means that there's no guarantee that the jugs contained fish water inside, they could've simply gathered water somewhere else or perhaps there jugs were already filled with clean water to begin with.

Because this murder mechanism idea is flawed, there's no guarantee that the culprit used this method which required some unknown amount of strength, but an amount of strength regardless (unless the author wants to pass it off as anyone could've done it since it's easier to do it by spinning it, I'm not sure).

Because of that flaw, my theory isn't affected by the murder mechanism idea that Teruko suggested since there is no guarantee that this is the correct answer.

So yeah, there's no problem whatsoever! Also, as far as I'm aware, since the release of the latest episodes, I have a very logically sound reason to explain the taped up wrists as shown in part 5 of my theory.

To give you a small reminder, it was for something like this!

(Whole murder mechanism not properly shown in the drawing because I'm lazy as heck, but just take a close attention to the arms)

By having Arei's arms go between the pillars of the seasaw, you can make it so that she can't get out of it by taping her wrists together, which plays an important role in the murder mechanism. Not going to elaborate further, if you want to know more, you gotta read the big post right there!

And there you have it! Those were the two main concerns that could've negatively affect my theory, but fortunately for me, it doesn't. In fact, it supports it even more than before.

Especially regarding the David / Arei conversation flashback (shown from David's memory's perspective). This conversation told us a lot more between these two, do you know what that means?

That's right! It means that Ace is full of shit! There's no way he didn't hear anything else. The only way he could've not hear anything else is if he gets snuck up from behind and gets knocked out with the turpentine, but it could've easily simply been Ace witholding that information to make David look more suspicious.

Therefore, if he lied about this, he could've also easily lied about when he actually overheard that conversation for his own selfish gains!

There's also a few couple other points that could further support my theory, but I don't feel like going over every single little detail as of now. I mainly wanted to solve these two issues and nothing else.

So, DRDTers, I need to ask you the following : Do you still believe that I am delusional with this overly complex theory of mine? :)

Thanks for reading another one of my big posts, as usual!

Edit : Go read the finale of my theory next, it's worth it!