#but yeah this cycle is going to continue until you stop trying to drown the person saving you

[aceing-on-the-cake]

So every time I see posts like this I think about the fact that drowning people can, will, and most often do end up trying to drown their rescuers, and that lifeguards are trained because of this to offer an object and not themselves first, such as a flotation tube, before placing themselves within arms reach.

Then I think about the two times in my life where I had spent months, where I would have days in between even speaking to another human because I was so lacking in contact.

Then I think about when I did gain people again, and they told me they cared about me, and they took an interest in me, and they spent time with me.

And I think about the feeling of desperation that overwhelmed me when they would stop, for even minutes or hours. Because they were sleeping. Because they were busy. Because they are humans with their own lives to live.

I remember having to sit there, and face that gnawing hole inside me that I knew was illogical. Knew was born out of fear, and loss, and how 15 minutes put me right back in that water all alone even if I could see I was on land.

Because drowning people are dangerous.

And I knew I was dangerous, unless I controlled this feeling. Faced it. Looked at it right in the eyes and chose to trust that when I had asked them before "you like me? you don't find me annoying? you want to be in my life?" that they meant it.

And now I'm reading this post and I'm not drowning, and you can leave me in the water alone, comfortably alone, and I don't often flash back to feeling like I am. But I still do, and I think I always will.

Because I almost died. And I don't think I'll ever truly forget that.

But drowning people are dangerous, and most people are not trained lifeguards. So when you drag them down to you, you use them to hold your head above water by placing theirs under, they can either drown with you, or they can let go.

And most people are going to let go. Because nobody wants to drown.

[patscorner]

LOSE CONTROL

TW: Panic attack, mention of disassociation

(Red is what's loosely referenced from the song)

This one is shorter bc I lost motivation 🤭

______________________________

You couldn't breathe. No matter how many deep breaths you took, no matter how hard you tried to ground yourself, you still couldn't breathe.

You really needed your boyfriend, but he hadn't been returning your calls. It's been 3 days.

The last you heard from him, you guys had an argument about how much time he was spending with you. Maybe next time, you'll keep your mouth shut and be happy with what you have because now, you don't see him at all.

He knew how you got without him. He knew because you told him how you were no good at being alone. You told him that without him, something takes a hold on you, and you don't know who you are. You told him that the anxiety builds in your chest when he's gone for too long. You told him that it feels like you're drowning without him, and when you see him, it's like a breath of fresh, clean air.

Without him, you're a mess. Without him, it made your skin itch, and it takes so much to stop you from tearing the skin off your bones.

You don't know how long you've been on the bathroom floor, arms around your knees as your rock back and forth, loud sobs falling from your mouth.

You were stuck in a vicous cycle of sobbing, throwing up, disassociating, hyperventilating, passing out, and then waking up and doing it all over again.

You hear muffled ringing coming from your phone that's sat on the counter next to the sink. You don't move, as the ringing in your head was too distracting. You just continue to rock back and forth until it stops.

Then it starts again. You wait. It stops.

This happens 6 more times, and each time you ignore it as you continue to dry heave into the toilet.

The next thing you hear is your bathroom door opening and arms wrapping around you. You don't know who it is, but you've got a pretty good idea.

You can hear muffled yelling, but you can't hear what anyone is saying. You put your hands over your ears, as the voices, the ringing, the dry heaving, is all too much for you.

"Ple- please.. too much... please..." You sob, rocking back and forth harder, your breathing picking up once again.

You start to rock slower as the voices stop, tears still wrecking your body.

"-aby, can you hear me?" A soft, familiar voice rang throughout the now quiet bathroom.

You lift your head up and meet 6 icy blue eyes. One is your boyfriend and one being his two brothers.

You assume, since Nick is closer, he's the one who embraced you earlier.

"Baby, I need you to follow my breathing, please." Matt pleads, as he gets closer and takes your hand and puts it on his chest so you can feel it rise and fall. "Can you do that for me?" He asks softly.

You nod absent-mindedly. "Matt?" You ask, trying to recognize him.

"Yes, yeah, I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere." He reassures.

"Where have you been...?" You ask as he stretches your legs out in front of you, making it easier for you to breathe. Like you said, being with him is like a breath of fresh fucking air.

Matt shook his head. "I- I don't know, baby, but I'm here now. I'm so sorry for leaving you like this." He said. "Can I give you a hug?" He asked, his arms rubbing your arms.

You nod as tears prick your eyes. Huh, you'd think you'd be out by now.

Matt embraces you in a big hug, tears leaving his eyes quietly as he relishes the embrace. It's been too long.

You pull away, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry." You say.

"No, no, no, never fucking apologize. Ever. This is on me. I know how you get when I'm not around, and I left anyway. I'm sorry." He says wiping his own tears.

"It's okay... it's just when you're not here - it feels like I'm a mess, like I fall apart." You whisper, your voice breaking.

Matt sniffles. "You're breaking my heart, baby. I'm so sorry. I'll never leave you again." He embraces you once again.

"I love you." You mumble into his chest. "I love you, too." He says.

"Can we get food now?" Chris asks from the other side of the door. He and Nick had left to give you both some privacy, but obviously, they were growing impatient.

You laugh and pat Matt's chest as you both stand up. "Yeah, just let me shower." You say, suddenly feeling gross.

"Love you, Matt." You say as he walks out.

"I love you, too, honey."

______________________________

[todomochi-uwu]

Of Unspoken Troubles & Sudden Worries (2/3)

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader

Warnings: Angst

Author’s Notes: Finally! The amount of time this took is stupid, but I hope you enjoy it :) Also I´m trying to cope with Jongdae leaving, so please stream “Hello” to understand my pain. 

“Hey Crybaby.”

Previous Part: First Next: Second&Half Third

The same eyes who found were now expecting an answer out of you, they were comforting, soothing but also serious and demanding; words simply didn´t come out of your mouth and you avoided looking at him, choosing to focus on the scratches on your hands and knees.

“Know I won’t tell anyone what just happened, I just want to be able to help you.” He said.

Your voice was trapped in your throat; how ridiculous would you sound if you told him your boyfriend was a piece of shit?

“Did anyone hurt? Is someone harassing you?” He tried again.

This time you shook your head.

“Okay, then did you fight with your team?” You stayed silent this team. “I see, maybe we could try talking to your captain? You are from Shiratorizawa, so your captain is Ushijima, right? Let me just…” When he turned around in an attempt to grab his phone you quickly held onto his jacket sleeve, preventing him from going any further.

To this, he gave you a confused look, “Okay now you need to tell me what´s going on.” He was firm, his tone had changed drastically and his tone was lower. 

Sigh, “I made something stupid, and now I can’t face them.”

“And what exactly is something “stupid”?” He air-quoted.

You knew you just had to tell him at this point.

…

Kuroo had his head in between his hands, trying to understand what you were trying to say. “Manager not girlfriend, what the fuck does that even mean?” He mumbled. 

“So you managed to catch Ushiwaka’s attention, and even though HE was the one to ask you out, he’s being a fucking asshole.” You simply nodded, “Okay, it’s good to know he’s bad at something, to be honest.”

“Wakatoshi is not the monster everyone makes him look, he’s just weird.” 

Kuroo giggled, “Well let me tell you he does have the kind of face that says ‘I’m going to punch if you so much look my way’ You know?” To this you giggled, “Would you like at that? Crybaby can actually smile.”

“Stop it, I’m not in the mood.”

“I know, just trying to cheer you up.” He sighed, before looking at you straight in the eyes, “Do you want my advice or were you just looking for someone to bent?”

“Apparently my rational thinking is not good, because I just keep going to back to him.”

“Because you are not being rational, you are just thinking about how much you love him and how much you wish for him to change, even though he´s not going to.” He was direct, no tenderness, making you flinch “Thinking rational would be to tell you to dump him, he’s not worth it. You are here trying to make it work while he´s just establishing rules as if it was a business contract.” Small tears threaten to come out of your eyes, another knot forming at the bottom of your stomach, “But… I completely understand what you are going through, so you are not letting him go that easily. So I’m going to do something that worked for me in the past, okay?”

You nodded.

“Have you tried talking to him?” Yes. “Did things change in some way?” No. “Okay. Has it been getting worse?” Yes. “Do you sometimes question his love?” Yes. “Are you genuinely happy?” No. “Is this what you thought it would be?” No. 

Kuroo sighed, before taking your face in between his hands “Is he’s not loving you the way he should; if he’s not cherishing you; if he’s not trying his best for you; if he´s not fulfilling the compromise he made to you. Then it’s not there. There´s no other way to put it.”

A loud sob escaped your lips, things you already knew were now coming out of someone else’s mouth, making it seem real, making it hurt even worse. 

“However, I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt and say his intention is not that, he’s not trying to hurt you, he’s just… an idiot.” He looked away, “But everything and everyone has their limit, including you, no matter how much you love him.”

There was nothing much you could say, he was right, you love Ushijima, but it was becoming too much. 

“So tonight we are going to go sleep because my god am I tired from trying to block his fucking spikes, I know you say he´s not a monster, but he sure does spike-like one.” You giggled, “Tomorrow you will fulfil your duties as a manager, but nothing else. You will take notes, refill water bottles and give out towels, what you normally do as a manager. No cheering him, no lovey-dovey looks, no midnight escapades, no girlfriend stuff. If he wants you to act like a manager you will, but he will also experiment what losing someone who loves you feels like.”

“Why are you doing this?” You questioned, you knew he didn´t have any malice intentions, but still, you were the crazy person who appeared crying in front of the gym at one a.m. 

“Because I know exactly what it feels like to give out love and receive absolutely nothing, and I’m not letting you continue this destructive cycle; it’s what I wish someone had done for me.”

You didn´t ask any further questions, believing every word he said. You turned around to leave, needing to catch some sleep.

“Hey, Crybaby. You forgot something.”

…

It was now morning, your eyes felt heavy and were swollen, fingers bleeding from all the biting and your body kept trembling from the anxiety, but you had to reaffirm yourself, put yourself first.

And so, you made your way into the kitchen, getting ready to prepare breakfast along with the others managers, who could only give you a sympathy smile and a pat in the back, clearly having heard you cry.

Before you even noticed, the teams were already making their way into the cafeteria, the noise filling the entire building. You started serving plates, placing them in the table for the boys to come and collect them.

“Hey, manager-chan.” A familiar voice said. Tendou. 

“Hey, Sato. Did you get a good sleep? You need to be prepared to be able to block some of those quick attacks from Karasuno” You smiled, taking him by surprise.

“Yeah… Um, I didn´t know you got along with Nekoma?” His eyes were looking straight into the piece of clothing in which you were currently drowning in. 

“Oh yeah, their captain was nice and gave it to me, he said I looked cold.” Shit, you completely forgot about that. Well, fake it ‘till you make it.

“Okay…” He said while returning to his table, Ushijima was already sitting there looking over the notes from yesterday’s practice. “Hey, Wakatoshi-kun?”

“Yes, Tendou?”

“Have we ever had any other training camp with Nekoma?”

“Not that I remember.”

“Huh.” Tendou was confused but decided to keep his thoughts to himself. There was no need to worry just for a silly thing, right?

It wasn´t until he turned around to have another look at you did he notice your eyes were positioned on another table, another team, Nekoma. Then Tendou noticed their captain looking directly at you, intensely and without even blinking, before he gave you his signature smirk and a quick wink, then sitting down next to his libero. 

Tendou´s eyes once again returned to you, and this time it shook him, the peachy pink in your cheeks and the shy look in your eyes incriminating you. 

…

Tendou didn´t like it one bit, not when you and Ushijima had something, but after last night´s events, he didn’t know what to think, were you two still together, or was that the final straw?

He saw it during breakfast, he saw during their practice match, he saw it during breaks, Kuroo and you, looking at each other, laughing, talking, a relationship he had never seen before. 

When in the fuck had you met Kuroo Tetsurou? And what in the fuck had happened for you to look at him that way?

…

“Wakatoshi-kun” He whispered, careful of not raising anyone´s attention. 

He hummed in response.

“Are you and Y/N still together?”

“Tendou, I already told you…”

“No, Ushijima. This time I´m serious, are you and her still together?

Ushijima´s eyebrows were furrowed, there was no point in denying it any more, he guessed. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because for one, she´s wearing Nekoma’s jacket, two she hasn´t even bother looking your way, which I don´t blame her after what you did last night, and third the looks Kuroo has been giving her aren´t exactly friendly.”

“What do you mean?”

Goddammit are you fucking blunt, Ushijima, “I mean, she disappears for the entire night, no one in the team knows where she is, and all of a sudden she is friends with Kuroo?”

“I don´t get your point.”

  “What I mean…” He raised his voice, clearly exasperated, he tries again calming himself. “What I mean is, this morning she was wearing his jacket, she has spent all of her breaks with him and she hasn´t even come to greet you.” He hoped this would wake up something in Ushijima, but he simply stared at him, clearly not connecting the dots.

Well, fuck.

This time, Tendou pointed your way, Ushijima was confused, what was so bad? And then, everything made sense. 

Kuroo had taken your phone away, keeping it at a height impossible for you to reach, you were jumping trying to get it back, it wasn´t long before his arm was around your waist hugging you while laughing, you pouting. 

And to this Ushijima couldn´t help but wonder.

What was this strange feeling? And why did he all of a sudden had the urge to punch Kuroo Tetsurou?

Tags: @samanthaa-leanne @missalienqueen @anime-weeb-bnha @minnieminnie00-got7 @ama-suhen @iiwah @saeranoppa @4ambagelbites @sunaswife @puma-d-a @lionhearteddame @ix-elastix @dudejuststop @pruemania @salty4tsukki @wonderblogger @animexholic @kenmascateyes @aralynxo @decaffeinatedcheesecakemiracle @tsibba01 @softkookyy @nnessworls @xxitsaeonxx @hallothankmas @sinex @shinhiromi @killuaking @icedberrytea @foreverdebbie​ @nati-08​ @amoursa​ @lilolpotato​big @bigtitmisfit​ @itzgabz22​ @holographicwriter​ @aonenthusiast​ @flmshneverbreaks​ 

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Your Perfect

Masterlist

Summary: Alphas were strong and fierce, the ultimate protective dominant companion. Omegas were sweet loyal and fertile submissive. Alphas were huge. Omegas were tiny. Or so they say, but there were always exceptions to the rule.

Warnings: A/B/O, slight Angst, Fluff, mentions Of Breeding, Mentions Of Heat Cycles, RPF

A/M: so wanted to do a different take on the typical A/B/O a little role reversal~ I hope you all enjoy!

Taglist: in reblogs

You froze on the spot scenting the air. They were here. Your omega. It probably wasn't the best first impression onset, freezing in the middle of the gangway head up alert scenting, searching with both your nose and eyes the many small males walking past.

With a deep inhale you began the hunt. Instincts pulling at you frantically as the spiced delectable scent moved. Your omega had caught a whiff of you on the air and was trying to avoid you. They where panicked weaving about the crowd trying to escape the alpha that was on their trail. With a little luck your size would throw them if they did look around for you as they tried escaping.

To look at you wouldn't have been thought to be alpha, a thick supple woman all of five foot four. Normally female alphas were tall Amazonian muscular goddesses! But you, broke the mould. Like a hammer to a landmine.

You chased the scent ducking and diving around the many busy bodies, abandoning where you were meant to be in favour of locating your mate. It didn't take long to track them as in a frantic rush they lead you out of the throngs of people to the more quiet area of set, the trailers.

They were trying to run to their nest, it was their safety. A beta security guard tried to stop you, but with a snap of your jaws and viscous snarl they stumbled back. Noting the bright red ring outlining your pupil separating the black from your colourful iris. The sure sign of an alpha chaseing their mate.

Once you growled enough making the beta submit you looked forward again and continued, stalking towards your omega. The scent was muffled so they'd reached their nest, not that it would do any good, he was yours and you'd find him.

You slowly stepped down the row of trailers nose in the air sniffing around each one mentally crossing off each one. Then froze. There. The dark grey on your left, with the twitching blind. You walked passed slowly scouting for any danger, needing to inspect your new territory but kept an eye on your omegas nest.

Then once finished your walk round you came to a stop. You could feel it, anxiety and panic radiating from the nest. It made you falter and whine low in your throat. He was scared? Terrified you could smell shame on the air! In that moment all you wanted to do was scoop him up and hold him, make him see there was nothing to be ashamed or afraid of, you'd never hurt him. Only love and protect him.

You stepped up to the door and knocked slowly, your stomach twisting as you heard the footsteps inside and deep fearful pants, laboured breaths loud enough to be heard through the door.

"Omega. Its okay, I wont- I'm in control I wont hurt you" you started speaking low and calmly despite being torn up inside, you wanted to comfort him, stop him from becoming overwhelmed. You heard a small whimper from the other side and another wave of acidic fear hit you making you scrunch your nose in distaste.

"I promise I wouldn't have followed if I wasn't sure, please. Open the door? I just want to see you, I wont do anything if you don't want me too...Please" you pleaded pressing a hand to the cool metal of the bus. You wanted to see him but you wont break in, even if it was probably for the best. Many omegas panic until they meet their alphas properly, face to face. And with the both of you working onset there was only soo much you could take before hunting him down properly like all the horror stories that make the headlines.

"I can sense this is hard for you- your embarrassed you shouldn't be, I wont judge you... I wont many males are omega and its perfectly fine" There was a small shuffle and a deep shaky breath before the door handle was clicked and the door was inched open.

"Y-you promise?" Was the weak reply that tugged on your heart strings. Your need to comfort him when he sounded so upset and defeated. Lonely and scared.  You tipped your head to the side peering through the crack in the door. You understood, much like a female alpha was an anomaly male omegas were too, mostly bullied growing up because of being omega. There were less accepted the female alpha. A female alpha could be sexualized as 'dominatix' and 'domme'. Omega males were victims of slurrs such as 'sissy boy' 'nancy boy'.

"I swear, wont you let me in? We can just talk, or snuggle if you like-whatever you want to do nothing more" you added trying to hide the desperation in your voice. You held your breath as your omega sniffled quietly and whined once more. You could scent the desperation on him too, he wanted to seek you out but was frightened, unsure of himself.

After a few moments a large hand appeared  pressing the door open and holding a hand out to you palm up finally giving into his need for reassurance. You let out a sigh of relief and quickly help his hand shuddering as the contact sent goosbumps up your arm. You took a moment to admire the way his hand locked with yours so perfectly, despite dwarfing yours. With a gentle tug you were being pulled into his nest slowly.

You entered the bus eyes eagerly seeking out your omega. You paused seeing him. At first you didn't even click who he was you just revelled in his presence. The feeling of finally being here with your mate, having him before you after a lifetime of guessing just who fate had instore for you. You were surprised people had joked your mate would be tiny if you were the alpha! But they were wrong. He was huge both wide and tall, muscular and.

"Perfect... Your perfect" you uttered as he blushed ducking his head down trying to hide it. His other hand twiddling with his shirt nervously. You climbed the steps letting the door close behind you finally standing on the same level as your stunning mate.

"You... you mean it? I-I know I'm not...a typical omega my size and strength it of an alpha and its weird, you can refuse me if you want-" he began his anxiety rising with each word the pungent scent making the air thick and unpleasant. You hushed him quickly speaking over him.

"Didn't I just say your perfect Henry... your perfect just the way you are" you said still marvelling at your omega. You didn't really care who he was. You were far to enamoured with the realisation that he was your omega. He was like you, unique and wonderful. Exactly how he was meant to be... apart from those hormones mixed in with the scent of suppressant's. You leant forward sniffing and frowned momentarily.

"Hormones? You've been trying to hide?" You were right. He hung his head feeling deflated before nodding to you ashamed.

"I... Sorry its... People that find out are... They ridicule me I hate it" he said slowly it made your heart clench. It angered you. Just like everything else in life if you didn't fit the social norms you were pressured to change it. He had been taking hormonal supplements to try and force himself to be alpha. Tried to cover up his true presentation to fit in. You understood he was large and muscular and a perfect embodiment of the 'perfect male' handsome strong features, the deep voice and charming confident personality. Yet he was an omega. Its probably why he felt the need to push himself so much. He was over compensating.

"Don't worry about them I'm here now" you uttered moving pressing a hand to his cheek making him look at you. He gapsed when he locked eyes feeling the bond begin to form already just with the simplest of gestures.

"Do you trust me?" You asked slowly still trying to be mindful of how skittish he seemed. He nodded unable to deny the feeling of trust and warmth. You felt like home and calm in a way he never felt before.

"Good boy... i promise to look after you my sweet omega" you cooed letting a low rumble of your purr into your words easing his fears. You could taste him on your tongue the air around you becoming more relaxed and welcoming the anxiety lifting making you breath a sigh of relief. He whined before dipping his head to you pressing his forehead to your shoulder prompting you to encircle him with a bear hug. He shuddered before sniffling returning the hug whimpering as sobs wracked his body uttering 'alpha' over and over holding you tighter with each call.

You blinked away your own tears you swayed while him. It was overwhelming for him. You dread to think what hell he has been through just because he is omega, especially in the business she was in. But you ere proud, so very proud of him to navigate his career and become so successful despite being an omega? He hadn't let it hold him back like many others who hid in fear of being found out. You rubbed his back and tipped your head pressing kisses to his neck that bared to you.

"Your alright.... your alright I've got you now, I've got you omega come one lets go lay down hmm? We can go and snuggle for a while if you'd like?" you hummed  to him pressing kiss after kiss along the side of his throat. As much as you wanted to mark him you resisted, the last thing you need to do while he is in this fragile state is breed him. Mate him and tie him to you for god knows how long. Plus the suppressants would make it doubly hard, your body would tighten and lock around him despite him not being able to truly breed you. It could cause problems for the both of you. It would be best to wait until next months cycle hit and he let him fall into heat.

"Y-yeah, with Kal too?" He uttered still sniffing you, drawing deep breaths in trying to drown in your scent. You grinned against his neck nuzzling him rubbing your own scent onto his skin.

"Of course with Kal too love" you replied with a grin pulling back a little to eye the akita who was tilting his fluffy head at you trying to understand what was happening.

"Come on off to bed" you said prodding his tummy playfully giggling as he squirmed chuckling and grinning whislt pawing at his eyes trying to wipe away his lingering tears.

"O-okay... we wont?" You shook your head as he trailed off cheeks glowing from the mere mention of mating.

"As much as I would love to claim and mate you, we will wait until your heat, et those suppressants and hormone supplements out of your system~" you reassured him whist ushering him deeper into the bus towards the bedroom area. He chuckled nervously before turning calling Kal to the bedroom as he eagerly scrabbled onto it, wanting nothing more then to curl up and cuddle with you.

You released a deep breath watching as he and the bear got comfy. Your omegas huge blue eyes watching you as you settled down yourself and pulled him to rest his head on your chest. One hand twisted in His hair, the other letting Kal sniff you before stroking him. You grinned closing your eyes finally feeling at peace. After a long lonely life wondering you'd found your boys. And your home.

[posallys]

i saw a post about percy and poseidon and i figured i'd drop this stupid little headcanon i have here (i also take stuff from this analysis, so go read that mayhaps)

Ya know how we’ve established i think that Percy’s fatal flaw should be control and not loyalty? And how I talked about the whole “Percy and Poseidon are quick to anger” thing in my analysis of them? And how it’s literally in their nature to want to be in control of everything around them?

okay, well, for whatever reason, percy is on olympus (maybe a solstice? maybe annabeth is talking about stuff for her rebuild? idk)

and a god somebody says something and it he gets pissed, and since his emotions are so closely linked with his powers, he accidentally triggers an earthquake

except, poseidon could obviously tell that there was going to be an earthquake bc he could feel it, so he just kind of pops in front of percy and grabs his wrists/hands and is like "that's an awfully big earthquake you almost caused, ya know."

And Percy’s kind of shaking because he could feel the way the anger took over and how he couldn’t stop the earthquake himself. He was trying so hard to restrain it, to hold it back, but he couldn’t.

He doesn’t really say anything to Poseidon, because he’s clenching his jaw to the point that it’s painful, but he looks up at Poseidon, and his eyes kind of give it away.

(and it may not have been obvious to anybody else, but it was obvious to poseidon because he can't even begin to count the amount of times that look has been on his own face)

So Poseidon takes a deep breath and closes his eyes and nods a little (meanwhile the rest of the gods are just like 👀 👀 because percy almost fucked a lot of shit up and poseidon is being very calm and also being a dad and trying to help his kid)

So he lets go of percy's wrists and is like "come with me"

And Percy kind of hesitates for a moment, but then Poseidon is like “It wasn’t a question” because he knows it’s probably the only thing that’ll help, so it’s Not A Question.

(and poseidon knows that he should have done it after the titan war. He should have helped Percy sooner, but he didn’t, so he has to do it now, and he’s going to do it, because he's not going to let percy keep walking blindly through the mess that is their powers)

Poseidon does some god shit and flashes them out to like. The middle of fucking nowhere. like just creates a little slab of land in the middle of the ocean. nothing around for hundreds of miles except open water

Percy just looks at him like wtf? "Dad, why are we in the middle of the ocean??"

And Poseidon just kind of chuckles and is like “yeah, actually, we are in the middle of the ocean. This is the point that’s as far from any land that you can get.”

“Uh? Why?”

“Because it gives me enough time to stop any damage before it happens.”

Percy’s like “???? what damage?? Pls explain”

“I should have done this after the titan war, Percy. I should have—well it doesn’t matter what I should have done. You have to learn how to let go, and I’m going to help you.”

And Percy doesn’t like the idea of that. He doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t trust himself not to hurt someone or cause destruction (after all, his name means to destroy).

He must be making a face because Poseidon looks at him sympathetically.

“I know it’s hard, Percy. Believe me, I know better than anyone.”

Poseidon pauses for a moment and then continues… “How do you survive a riptide?” he asks.

Percy answers immediately. “You have to let it pull you out. Eventually, it’ll let you go out the side or the back. You don’t want to fight it, though, because you’ll probably drown trying.”

Poseidon purses his lips and nods, and Percy’s looking at him confused for a moment, trying to figure out why his dad asked about a riptide (because Poseidon obviously knows how they work).

And then he Gets It. “You mean...I have to stop fighting…”

“You have to let go. You have to let yourself be carried out sometimes. The longer you fight, the more tired you get, and the worse it becomes. The sea doesn’t like to be restrained, Percy.”

“But I—” Percy’s voice cracks

“I know you don’t want to, but I promise you, it helps.”

Percy nods and lets Poseidon tell him what to do.

Poseidon tells him to scream. To really let everything out. “I know, I know, you’ll probably feel stupid doing it, but do it anyway. No restraints, no worries. let it flow out of you.”

And so he does. He screams the way he’s wanted to for what’s felt like forever at this point. And the ocean responds to him. It responds to his frustration and his anger and his pain. And the waves are rough and choppy and the sky is turning a shade of grey, and the ground is trembling, and then the waves are getting higher and higher and they’re building, building, building, and then they’re crashing onto the ground around him.

And it feels good, really. To let go. to not have to restrain himself

And Poseidon is there watching him (and he’d stop anything Percy may cause before it got to a place where it could cause harm (there’s a reason they’re in the middle of the ocean, after all)).

And Percy’s scream dies out, and he sits down and he breaths and he feels like the world has been lifted off of his shoulders again.

But he’s not done yet because Poseidon is coaching him through things, making Percy create earthquakes and hurricanes and tsunamis, helping him find the balance between controlling them and letting them control him.

And then poseidon teaches him how to release his anger. He walks Percy through the steps. Start with your hands; unclench your fists. Relax your arms, your shoulders. Roll them out, hold yourself up straight. Unclench your jaw, stretch your neck out. Don’t hold the anger back, but don’t let it consume you. You have to change it, you have to feel it. Let it move through you like water flowing down a river. Feel it in your arms and your fingers and your legs, but then push it out. Not aggressively—calm. It has to be calm. You have to let it carry you to a certain point, but you can’t struggle. It’s a riptide, Percy. Once you surrender to it, you can escape it. Once you surrender to it, you really have control.

And it works. Percy goes through the steps, slowly relaxing himself, letting it move through him until it’s no longer anger and he no longer feels like he’s being crushed.

“I caused a lot of destruction when I was a younger god, Percy. I didn’t have a good grip over my anger. It took me a long time to figure out that, while I may control the ocean, the ocean also controls me. Do you know why? Because I am the ocean, and so are you. The ocean is inside of you, and you must find the balance between controlling and being controlled.”

“How often do you do this?”

“Every few months. It’s easy to get caught in the cycle of control again. It’s in our nature to want to be in control, so conceding isn’t easy for us. So when I feel myself on edge, when I start angering quicker, I come here and I let go.”

So they make a habit out of it. They come out to the middle of the ocean every other month, or about as often as either of them needs it, and they let go, and Percy slowly gets better at becoming one with the ocean, better at finding the balance.

(and then they go to this diner in Montauk that Poseidon has a weird obsession with….)

And when Estelle is older, the three of them take the trip out to the middle of the ocean together, and they teach Estelle how to find balance. And she’s younger than Percy was, so her anger hasn’t had time to peak.

Unlike Percy, whose anger is silent, sneaky, creeping up out of nowhere (the way he’s smiling one moment and lashing out the next) Estelle’s anger was a storm you could see coming a hundred miles away. Her anger brews on the horizon, building and building, slowly getting bigger until there's nothing left but for it to shatter. Which makes it easier, really. She’s better at letting go than Percy is—she has time to let it dissipate before it reaches her.

[sunjaesol]

we’re dancing under the rain

canon compliant juke | fluff! | inspiration: rain // ben platt

Julie wondered if one day, she could stop loving. Because damn - it hurt. It hurt to love so much and continuously have her heart be broken. Love and heartache cycled through her life like a never ending train and the girl was in a constant battle of wanting to shut down or give it another chance. 

She always chose the latter, obviously, but that hurt too. The price she needed to pay to have such meaningful friendships. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have become a family with a trio of ghosts and an adjacent skater ghost. The problem of caring so much was when the heart got involved, when that heart beat a second too fast, too willingly, too adoringly. 

It made her vulnerable, her heart jumping out of her chest to sync with the other person and then getting crushed instead. This time, it cut her particulary deep. 

Nick broke up with her. 

A puffy-eyed Julie sat huddled in the studio under a blanket. He did it during lunch. All of a sudden, he pulled her aside into the hallway, told her they didn’t quite fit together and that it was better if they broke up. He pretended like she had a say in it, though it was clear he already made up his mind. Which was even worse, Julie found. Nick had thought about it before, probably more than once. His words made her feel like a fool. There she was, thinking their relationship was going smooth, getting squashed a minute after that: no, actually, it’s not going smoothly and you’re probably in denial so let’s end it now.

Later, she’d probably thank him for ripping the band-aid. She was now allowed to be heartbroken.    

Outside, rain was slamming against the pavement. That was the only good thing about the situation; the weather deciding to match her mood and mourn with her.

Luke poofed in with his signature grin, lips shaping to blurt out a story and then crashing into a frown when he saw the state she was in. 

“Jules?”

Wordlessly, she covered her tear-stained cheeks with the blanket. She hated it when people - especially Luke - caught her at her lowest. The boys were dead, she couldn't really complain about minor inconveniences when the only reason they were breathing was out of habit. 

The couch dipped at her feet. A careful hand patted her calf. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled. 

“Yes, cause that’s what I do when nothing’s wrong.” His voice was light, though a keen ear like hers could sense the hint of concern. “I cry.”

Julie huffed, pulling the blanket back to scowl at him. “Nick broke up with me. But it’s whatever because it clearly wasn’t as big of a deal to him as it was to me, so-” Shrugging, she sat upright and wiped her runny nose with the sleeve of her sweater. “It is nothing.”

Her fingers combed through her hair, trying to relieve the heat bugging her skin. God, she just wanted this day to be over with. She didn’t want to rehearse and do homework and eat dinner and pretend everything was dandy. She just wanted to cry and sleep and not have Luke’s stupidly green eyes drown in pity. 

“That sucks though,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Her lips rolled inwards, a smile forming despite her mood. “Not your fault.” Their gazes met. It felt new, somehow. “My heart is just… too open, I guess.”

Luke tapped her calf again, mirth lilting his tone. “Still not a bad thing. It was cool in the 90s and it’s cool now. He’s an idiot for not going crazy over it.”

“My open heart?”, she chuckled. 

“Yeah.” A beat. His eyes haven’t wavered. “Or you. In general.”

The smile bloomed to a full grin, a sliver of levity easing the ache in her chest. Why did he always know what to say? Granted, he used to be horrible at cheering her up, when she was fifteen and sadness lingered in her every move, but he got the hang of it after two years. A reassuring kiss on her temple before a stressful gig, a particularly uplifting speech during band circle, a new tune he came up with when he knew she didn’t feel like talking. Her teenage girl melodrama unfazed him. 

Luke met her halfway for a tight hug. It was the most comfortable place to be; her cheek on his shoulder and his arms holding her so securely and how, after all they’ve been through, his 90s cologne smelled like home. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled. “Some ghost girl is going to be so happy you’ve had practise dealing with me.”

He snorted. “Ah, yes. My harem of ghost girls. The, uh, market is really big for me.”

It wasn’t something they often discussed. It became clear that the boys weren’t going to cross over any time soon (if crossing over was even a thing, or the thing they thought it would be) and had time to settle into a long afterlife. Willie had been wandering around since the seventies and only now found Alex, so who knew how long Luke and Reggie would have to wait until they met their ghost-mate. It was a sad thought, but at least they had each other and music and the band. 

There was also the minor problem that Luke sometimes had this look on his face, usually fixed on her, that left little to the interpretation. It hasn’t happened in a while, but every so often…

It kind of made her breathless. Whatever. It was dumb. Those feelings have long been buried. The point was that he should look at ghost girls like that - not her.   

(A month after The Orpheum, they sat side by side behind the grand piano as they belted out a new song they’ve been working on, her fingers expertly gliding across the keys and slamming on those that needed that extra power. Julie was fully entranced, head thrown back and smiling through the lyrics as their voices reached a beautiful harmony no one could compete with. The last note drifted across the studio. When she turned to look at him, she expected to see the same grin. Instead, Luke gave her such a tender look, close, and let his doe eyes wander past her nose. Had Reggie not poofed in, she didn’t know if she would’ve had the restraint to not give in. To not be selfish. It was years ago, but she thought about it each time he joined her at the piano. It was the price for friendship, Julie often reminded herself. For an eternal bond.) 

Rain kept drumming into the ground. It sounded like a million ping pong balls fell onto the roof at an incredible speed. 

Luke pulled away and shot a look outside. “Damn.”

“Yeah,” Julie nodded. “I made a deal with God today. If I cry, the world does too.”

He rolled his eyes. “Dramatic.”

The smile stuck to her cheeks. Luke only needed a few minutes to lift her spirits. Tears didn’t even well up anymore. Was that bad? That one the same day, just in the afternoon, she already felt a bit better? She decided to not mull on the why.

“Wanna dance in the rain?”

She blinked. “What?”

He matched her smile, throwing his thumb at the doors. “Do you wanna dance in the rain?”

It was as if her brain wasn’t processing his words. “What? Why?”

“Why not?”, he shrugged. “You feel like shit, it never rains in LA and it’s fun.”

Quiet excitement coursed through her veins, the thrill pushing energy back in her bloodstream. Why not? The expectant twinkle in his eye brought colour to her face, jumping off the couch pulling him up with her. His whooping got her to laugh. It almost surprised her; she hasn’t properly laughed at all today. 

They each pulled one sliding door open, their ears instantly bombarded with noise. It was the hardest downpour of the year! 

“No running for cover!”, he yelled above the loud rushing of rain.     

She stuck her pinky out. “Only if you won’t!”  

And then they stepped in the rain. They were drenched straight away, a squeal erupting from her lips as the coldness crept between her clothes. He laughed, raking his hair back and leaping into a puddle. Water splashed around him. 

His voice bellowed through the sound. “C’mon!”

It spurred her into action, his laugh replaying in her head over and over again, as her head lolled back and began to twirl in circles. Faster and faster, giggles tumbling out as felt herself becoming one with the rain. This was exactly what she needed. A moment of silliness and unconditional joy! 

Luke was dancing like a maniac next to her, feet kicking and arms outstretched. She found herself staring at his profile, how bliss broke the lines in his face and caused a crescendo of glee to overcome him. It was mesmerising. Julie found herself slowing down, taken aback by the hope rising in her chest at the mere sight of him. 

What she hoped for, she didn’t know. (She did. She just couldn’t admit it just yet.) 

As if sensing her thoughts, Luke caught her eye with and yanked her into the dance without a second of hesitation. They spun around, hands intertwined and arms outstretched, daring to see how long they could keep going before one dropped from dizziness. Julie wasn’t afraid though. Luke would never let her fall. 

They let go just as they were losing balance, snickering like fools and trying to find footing again. Julie jumped onto his back, him instantly jostling her around until she got chucked off like a sack of potatoes. Each grin and laugh and crack of thunder mended her heart, slipping the pieces back together and allowing it to bloom once more. Keep on breaking, keep on loving, keep on hoping, keep on hoping for-

Luke locked his hands around the small of her back. “Ready?!”

He didn’t have to ask twice, their steps speeding up as she threw her arms beside her and then, at their fastest, pulled one leg up to swing in his hold. How she didn’t slip on the soaking wet ground was a miracle. 

Julie’s smile rivalled his, grabbing onto the lapels of his shacket to get him closer. He had something else in mind, hands slipping to her waist and launching her in the sky in one fluid motion. It took her breath away, quickly grabbing onto his shoulders and yelling her lungs out. It was just like in her dreams. Was it selfish of her to have yearned for this? 

(She felt it. The way her heart washed away all the troubles, how the numbing cold shrivelled to make place for someone else.)   

They shouted exclaims and curses into the rain. About Nick, about music, about each other, about how fucking unfair life could be, but damn - moments like these were worth the pain.  

Her drenched curls tickled his face, causing him to sputter and attract her focus. Julie looked down at him and didn’t stop the heartstopping smile growing on her face. Oh. 

Her fingers swiped against the planes of his cheeks, his grin beaming up at her and letting the dormant wildfire (snug between her ribs, among the flowers and the lyrics) come alive again. For so long, she hasn’t allowed herself to feel it. But how could she not when Luke propelled her into the storm itself, unify them like the whirlwind of passion they authentically were? 

They were the thunder and the lightning, the silver lining and the punch line - the dancers in the rain. 

He gently set her down, feet splashing. She didn’t let him pull away, instantly wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his wet shirt. They smelled like wet dogs and it was better than any perfume she’s ever had. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

His head settled on top of hers, cool breath fanning her skin. “I can’t have you down in the gutter, Jules. Ever.”

I love you. “Ever?”

She felt him move, her eyes tilting to meet his. That expression she cherished deeply returned tenfold. His tender smile, the green hooded by shy eyes, an incredulous hitch of the breath. 

Luke nodded, flitting gaze as if he didn’t quite know what to focus on, and carefully brushed a droplet from her cheek. “Ever.” 

(Julie got a cold the next day. It didn’t matter - she had the boy of her dreams to keep her company.) 

Breathe deep, let it wash over you We're slowly becoming lovers I promise you we won't be like the others We won't go running for cover

@blush-and-books​ @bluefirewrites​ @willexx​ @unsaid-emily​ @ourstarscollided​ @sophiphi​ @unsaidjulie​

[nypmphetsbastard]

They Both Die in the End (ch.2)

Chatter filled the makeshift cafeteria as everybody had just now began returning from their long hours of hard labor. The port finally completed meaning everyone had to start preparing for the arrival of more enemy and new comrades. Chatter filled the makeshift cafeteria as everybody had just now began returning from their long hours of hard labor. The port finally completed meaning everyone had to start preparing for the arrival of more enemy and new comrades. 

You leaned against the table and munched on some bread as you listened to Sasha talk. Despite your current situation, you couldn’t help but live in the present while everyone else worried of the future. Maybe this is why you preferred Sasha’s company more than anybody else’s.

The young brunette never liked stressing herself out thinking of the future, said it would give her gray hairs early — she lived in the present and made the best out of any situation that was thrown her way. Her presence felt like a breath of fresh air to those around her, it was no surprise Sasha has so many friends. Hell, even Floch likes Sasha and he doesn’t like anybody. 

“And then he tried to take my meat so I-” Sasha was cut off by Armin’s voice called both of your names from afar, he jogged over in a state of stress.

”Have you seen Eren?” He spoke aloud but you knew the question was more directed to you considering the two of you almost never left each other’s side. 

“Um no. The last time I saw him, Hange and the others were taking him back to his cell for the night.” Armin sighed.

”Yeah he was, but Commander Hange said he asked to stop for a second to take a piss and when they looked back he was gone.” Armin explained, running his hand through his hair. You sighed and gave your unfinished reread to Sasha who gladly took it. 

”I’ll help you look.”

It wasn’t uncommon for Eren to run off sometimes. Frankly, it happened whenever he got stressed and didn’t feel like being smothered anymore. He never went far, never went somewhere completely off the grid, but always somewhere he knew you and only you would find him. Today being an example of that. 

Legs burning from all the walking, you finally reached the rocky shore where you saw a distant body swimming in the water. Muttering an annoyed “what the hell?” under your breath, you walked closer to the shore.

Stepping up to the elongated rocks that acted as a deck, you make out your brown haired boyfriend bobbing up and down in the water until he finally noticed you. His eyes lit up as a smile stretched onto his face and he pulled himself out of the water, wasting no time in running towards you with open arms. 

Making a playfully disgusted face, you curled into yourself and Eren threw himself onto you and wrapped his arms around you. You groaned and he squeezed you tightly.

”Gross, you’re all wet.” You playfully complained, he didn’t say anything and instead pulled away, holding you by your shoulders. “Why did you run?” 

He shrugged, “I didn’t run.” You gave him a pointed look, ”I merely got distracted by a butterfly and casually walked away from their line of sight.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah well it’s still considered running, Eren.” You placed your hands on his chest, “What are you doing here, anyways? It’s already dark.” 

“Just wanted to take a little swim.” He grabbed your hand on his chest and lead you towards the edge of the rocks where he let go of your hand and jumped in. 

“Since when do you know how to swim?” You giggled, Eren’s head emerged from the water and placed his head between your thighs with his arms folded on the side of your thighs. 

“Since now, of course.” Smiling cheekily, Eren placed a kiss on each side of your thigh. 

“Haven’t you heard the stories of this place?” 

“What stories?” 

“Apparently, many years ago there were these two Eldians who had escaped the walls, lovers. They left before night fall meaning it was simple enough to get through Titans as they were beginning to slow down without the sunlight. And when they finally reached the ocean, they thought they made it...but then came an abnormal. Adam, the man he was grabbed by the Titan and told Lilith, the woman to run away into the sea and leave him behind. But it was useless and after devouring the love of her life the abnormal came after her in the water. And as the Titan held her in his hand, mouth stained with the blood of her lover, Lilith vowed that any lovers lucky enough to reach the sea and swim in it would be cursed, as her and her lover were.” 

Silence came between you as you finished the tale until Eren finally spoke up

“Oh darling,” he leaned up to your lips, “we’ve always been cursed.” Just as his lips met yours, his arms wrapped around your back and yanked you into the water with him.

Ice cold water prickled your skin sharply as you two fell in, Eren still holding onto you while you flailed around. Letting go of the breath you were holding underwater, you slapped Eren shoulder once you reached the surface.

“You asshole!” He laughed aloud at your anger and threw his head back, “It’s not funny, Eren. I can’t even swim!” You exclaimed.

“Oh I can tell, you’re squeezing me like I’m about to drop you!” Eren laughed, referencing your legs that were tightly wrapped around his waist and your arms that followed. 

“Or will I?” He joked, pretending to let go of your legs to which you screeched and held his shoulders tightly, nearly drowning him yourself.

The boy was still in tears at your reactions, mouth wide open giving you the perfect opportunity to splash water into it. He quickly stopped laughed and coughed harshly at the salty taste in his mouth. 

”Not so funny when it’s happening to you, huh?” You chuckled, after his coughing feat he joined in on your laugher and began pushing himself around in the water, sending you into another state of panic. 

“Ow, stop scratching me.“ Eren complained, your nails digging into his shoulders

”Then stop moving!” 

“How else are you supposed to learn how to swim, my love!” He laughed, “Here, I’ll help you.” Ignoring your refusals, Eren pried your legs off of his waist and let them float in the water. 

“Okay now start kicking.” He instructed, you gave up and listened for once.

“Ah, good girl,” Eren pried your hand off his shoulders next and held your hands at an arms length away.

You let out a breath, trying to freak out and you kicked your legs like Eren instructed and swim together. Eren continued to praise you as you got the hang of it more and more, a genuine smile splayed across his cheeks as he watched you. 

“You see? Told you it’s not that hard.” He encouraged

”Yeah right, the only reason I’m still afloat is because you’re still holding my hands.” You scoffed.

”Oh yeah? What if I was drowning?” You rolled your eyes at his hypothetical

”Pfft, you’re on your own for that one cause I am not saving you.” 

Eren raised an eyebrow, “We’ll see about that.” Were his final words before he let go of your hands and went underwater. 

You gasped and tried to reach out for him which didn’t work as he floated downward. You kicked and splashed around, trying your best to stay afloat and alive.

”Eren? Eren?! Eren, stop it’s not funny anymore!” You splashed around to try to get his attention but after another couple seconds of silence you began to panic. 

“Eren? ....Stop it, the jokes over I get it...” you looked around you, only got find yourself completely and utterly alone. Slowing down your panicked breathing, you sucked in a deep breath and stopped kicking around, letting yourself fall slowly under the water. 

The sharp stinging of the salty water hit your eyes when you opened them, trying your best to find the brunette. After a couple double takes, the sight of a slow falling body caught your eye and you immediately swam towards it. A wave of fear ran through you when you finally caught up to his body, his eyes closed and his lips not their usual pink color—he looked kind of...dead. 

Wrapping your arms around his waist as he once did early on, you pushed his body higher up to the ocean top, knowing you wouldn’t be able to carry him the whole way yourself without you drowning too. You repeated this process until the moonlight was visible under the water and you finally pulled his up, his body weight falling onto you. 

Multiple curses escaped your lips and adrenaline pumped through your veins, not even feeling the burning in your lungs or the tears in your eyes until you finally reached the rocky sand and dropped Eren’s body onto it. You coughed and started chest compressions.

”What the hell, you crazy bastard?! Jean was right, you’re a suicidal fucking maniac!” You cried, switching between pushing your interlocked hands up and down on his chest and blowing your own oxygen into his lungs. 

“I swear to Ymir fucking Fritz, I will kill you if you die on me, Eren Yeager!” 

Your arms stung, your knees bled, and your head was getting lighter and lighter, not even hearing the distant voice of Armin who called out to you. It didn’t matter how much it hurt, it didn’t matter if you had to rip all the air out of your lungs for him, none of it mattered until he was safe. 

You were always that kind of person. The person who’d take all the breath out of their lungs for others. A lover, a friend, an elder, a child, a stranger or a foe, all human life was precious. Violence never solved the problems of today, Marleyans killed Eldians centuries ago until they themselves were slaughtered and the roles were reversed. For even more centuries Eldians tortured Marleyans, constantly reminding them of what their ancestors had done long before them, and now, again the cycle continues. 

Push up

Push down

Replace his breath with yours

Push up

Push down

Replace his breath with yours

Push up

Push down

Replace his breath with yours

Push up

Push down

Replace her breath with yours

Push up

Push down

Replace her breath with yours

Push up

Push down

Replace her breath with yours 

Hers? Her breath. The breath that was slowly fading more and more. Armin’s voice calling out to you in the distance. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. You had to save her. You’ve done it before, why isn’t it working now? Why did they all stop?

Why didn’t it work?

Armin called out to once last time, placing his hand on your shoulder, “Hey...that’s enough. She’s gone.” 

You pushed his hand off your shoulder and shook your head, “No...no, she’s not...she-....Sasha...” you whimpered and went limp in Armin’s arms, the blonde carefully holding your head and shoulders against his chest as you both cried together. 

Questions were all that filled your thoughts. Why did this happen? Why was Sasha the target? She was innocent, she was kind and beautiful and everybody loves her, why did this happen? Who did this? 

Well, who did it was already an answered question. Yes, the simple answer would be the child but, it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t pull the trigger unprovoked and she most certainly wouldn’t be here if the scouts never invaded Marley. And the reason the scouts in invaded Marley was because of....

”Eren...” you pulled away from Armin’s hug and stomped over the back of the airship where Connie had just finished breaking the news. 

You maneuvered around him, ignoring everybody else in your way as your hand impulsively raised and lowered, meeting the side of Eren Yeager’s face. A sharp stinging sensation on your palm snapping you out of your adrenaline high, and it all came crashing down. 

“You killed her! She was my best friend and now she’s dead! All because of you! She didn’t want to come here, I didn’t want to come here but we did. Because of you!” You shouted. 

As much as Levi personally loved throwing Eren around himself, he couldn’t stand you being the one to do it, knowing you’d feel the highest of regret later on. He stepped in, trapping your arms under his as you flailed around trying to get out of his grip.

Anyone who knew the two of you was more than a little shocked at the sight. Hell, even Zeke, who had only heard of you through his brother’s adoring words was shocked. The way Eren spoke of you, even he knew that this outburst was one nobody was expecting. 

By that point, you had already given fighting against an Ackerman and fell limp in Levi’s arms. Although awkward, Levi knew he couldn’t leave you in such a vulnerable state at the moment. 

The ride back home felt like years. Years of avoiding the back room in fear of seeing Sasha’s cold and lifeless corpse laying there, unmoving. Mikasa let you lay on her lap and cry your eyes out, not caring who was listening to you and never judging you for it either. She had lost her best friend too, but she knew she wasn’t alone in this.

Sasha was everyone’s best friend.

Even Eren’s. 

And no matter how cold and distant he seemed, he would always make room in his heart for Sasha. She was...odd, a strong soldier and an amazing asset to the scouts, it didn’t help that she was one of the only people who could make him laugh. It was nice, hearing her and Connie crack jokes that were funny because they weren’t, seeing her make Mikasa and Armin smile, and especially seeing how good of a friend she was to you.

He knew after every argument or every interaction you and him had would immediately be brought to the attention of Sasha and Mikasa. Sometimes, through the cracks of the stone in his cell, he would hear the three of you giggling and whispering about boys.

Through the cracks of the stone in his cell Eren stared. He knew what he had to do in order to protect the people he loved, and to do that he had to distance himself as much as possible from them. Starting with Hange.

They cursed under their breath as they left the room, Eren’s chest clenched but he ignored it and sat on the uncomfortable bed given to him. He didn’t hate Hange. He never could. In fact, he held a high respect for them, but he knew if he needed people to turn away from him and his destructive behavior, he had to start with the one in charge. 

Little did he know, you offered Hange some sleepy tea recommended by Levi and slipped into the basement where he was being held. The brown haired boy flinched and became defensive at the sound of keys jingling, getting ready to attack when necessary but relaxed when the warm colored light illuminated your face. 

He sighed and looked away, “What are you doing here?” You gulped and unlocked in cell, closing the door behind you and standing over him. Eren didn’t look up from his seat on the bed, choosing to stare at concrete floor instead of your eyes that were filling with tears.

”I’m sorry.” 

Eren shook his head, “For what?” 

“I hit you. A-and I know I was upset about....but that’s not excuse. I shouldn’t have put my hands on you, no matter what.” Looking up at you, Eren noticed your eyes downcast trying to hide the tears streaming down your face. 

He cursed himself mentally and stood up sharply. You gasped at the sudden movement and looked at him, not expecting him to yank you into a hug, his head in your neck. Immediately, you wrapped your arms around him and let go of the breath you were holding. 

“You were right.” He spoke up

”What?”

”To hit me. You had every right to.” You tried to pull away to look him in the face but couldn’t escape his strong grip. 

Ever since you all went to Marley, Eren had been acting different. Even before Sasha’s death, his eyes seemed duller, darker, he didn’t seem to care about the innocent lives he took. He barley even looked you in the eye despite not seeing each other for months. 

“What? No, why would you say that? You would never put your hands on me so I shouldn’t have either, where is this coming from?” You questioned 

“I saw it. I saw her die.” Eren mumbled, finally letting you pulled away. ”When I got in control of my Titan more, I saw it. I saw the future, I saw Sasha die and I thought I could stop it but...” You didn’t waste any time in sitting Eren down once more and wrapping your arms around him, letting him lean on your chest. 

Millions of thoughts were running through your head but all you cared about was making sure he was okay. And considering everything you had all found out in the past 4 years, it wasn’t as surprising to find out he could see into the future. 

For those little moments of silence, you ran your hands through his, now long brown hair and let him relax. There wasn’t any time for Eren to “relax” recently sand there wasn’t much you could do to help him considering you never knew what was going through his head, but for those few minutes were all he needed. 

All he needed to act selfishly. 

Eren suddenly pulled away from you and held your face in his large hands, “Do you trust me?” 

“Huh?” 

”Do. You. Trust. Me?” He repeated sharply

”Yes? Yes, of course I do.” You reassured him and maybe even yourself.

”After tonight you can hate me forever, or you can follow me forever, it’s your choice. But I won’t stay here.” He said, you shook your head, trying to figure out what he was trying to say.

”W-What? Eren, don’t tell me...” 

Eren took a deep breath and leaned in, pressing his lips into yours as if it’d be the last time he would. 

“I’m sorry...”

”Wha-“ 

With a sharp sting on your neck, your words were paused as Eren punched a thin syringe into your neck. You opened your mouth to speak but the artificial melatonin pumped through your veins quicker than you could think, finally taking a toll and allowing you to fall limos in Eren’s arms. Not catching the single tear that fell from his left eye. 

When you awoke, keys and yelling filled your ears before your sight did. As your eyes fluttered open, you found Commander Hange standing over you in both fear and anger, calling your name.

”Cadet! Where did he go?! Where did Eren go? Did you let him out? Did he escape? How did you get in?” All sorts of questions were thrown your way.

But nothing could shake the stake in your heart at the hands of Eren Yeager. Though...this won’t be the last time you’d be feeling that. 

[kylorengarbagedump]

Defy Your Authority: Chapter 4

Read on AO3. Part 3 here. Part 5 here.

Summary: David Rose voice: Oh, my god!

Words: 3200

Warnings: dude

Characters: Kylo Ren x Reader

A/N: First: Thank you to @bastila-ren and @elmidol for their beta-kindness.

I'M ALIVE. I got super burned out at my job, took 5 weeks of FMLA, got incredibly depressed, but now I'm back! Very thankfully, my COVID symptoms were extremely mild. Thank you very very much for your well-wishes and your concerns.

I wish I could express enough apology for my lack of activity, but hopefully uploading a chapter is thanks enough. You all have been so supportive and kind to me. I am SO thankful and appreciative of everything y'all offer me!

(as a side note: I know some people do not like dude, that it throws them out. I am very sorry, but in the politest way possible: I am not going to stop using it. I like it too much.)

I also hope you enjoyed the chapter! God I wonder what's going to happen next chapter. I just don't know.

Love you all so much <3

“Piece of shit.”

Growling, you tugged out another panel from the silencer’s dash. At this point, about a dozen slats of buttons boxed you into the pilot’s seat, crowding you in the cockpit. All of them looked flawless upon inspection, and this new one was no exception. Wires were attached and the circuits were complete, every switch was grounded. You’d gone over a handful of systems already, trapped in this cockpit for hours. The silencer’s refusal to function made no sense. There had to be something you were missing. 

The memory of smoke and flames licked at the perimeter of your mind. Yeah, there was a lot you were missing.

Pain burrowed, opened a well in your chest, and you shook your head, rubbing your tired face. There wasn’t time to think about anything else. Sitting forward, you started reattaching the panels to the console. You needed to focus on this.  Even though the answer to where you’d go and what you would do once you were finished remained nebulous. Even though you were now apparently unknown and unloved by almost everyone in the universe, including the one man you’d waited on for months. 

You caught a sigh in your chest, exhaling into your palms, shutting out the urge to cry. Crying right now was a waste of time. You still had about fifty systems to check, and you’d only read through about half of Kylo’s post-flight novella. Swallowing, you grabbed your datapad from the seat and flipped to the report, forcing yourself through the urge to skim.

It wasn’t like you weren’t interested. Normally this sort of thing was like a buffet for your freakish little brain. But you kept tasting embers on your tongue. Kept seeing your crew--completely unarmed, helpless fuel outpost workers--drowning in destruction. Kept hearing Hux’s voice: Multiple Resistance fighters… Heat gripped your neck, clogged your throat. Multiple fighters for a tiny station. Multiple fighters against three soft, fleshy bodies.

The First Order was not your creed; just your employer. The machine of war had always been an inconvenience to the prestige of working on elite starfighters. You knew that the loss of three cogs was nothing to that machine. In the past, it’d been nothing to you too. But you’d never eaten meals or laughed with or supported those lost cogs when they’d cried. This loss wasn’t just to war. This loss was horrifically and uniquely yours. 

“Stop.” You shook your head, tossing your datapad back on the seat. You’d finish putting the console back together, then you’d figure out what to do next.

Jaw tight, you grabbed another panel, and your grip slipped. The sharp edge sliced your palm where the wood had lanced you earlier.

“Fuck!” You dropped it and clutched your hand, seething while you tried to squeeze away the agony. Everything from your fingers to your wrist throbbed, and your chin quaked, tears burning your sight. “Fuck! Fuck!” Snarling, you kicked the panels at your feet. “Fuck!”

The thin cut felt like a sobbing gash. You tore off your jacket and wrapped the sleeve around your palm, wincing when you tightened it to the wound. 

“Stupid fucking panels!” you growled, kicking the panels again. “Stupid fucking ship, stupid fucking Kylo, stupid fucking Resistance!” The final kick dented a panel, popped off a shiny button. “Gods!”

You covered your face in your jacket and screamed until your throat crackled, until your lungs were dry. Head spinning, you drew in a breath and screamed again, stomping the floor until dizziness dropped you into the pilot’s chair. Warmth glowed at your cheeks, leaked down your back. Tremors rippled to your toes as you took in a long, steadying breath, exhaling in reluctant relief. 

You considered sitting there forever. But it only took two seconds for you to remember how Kylo also sat in this chair thinking of and dealing with everything that wasn’t you before you grunted and climbed out of the cockpit. 

The rest of the hangar seemed wholly unconcerned or otherwise ignorant to your tantrum. Wiping your eyes, you hopped to the ground, wagging off the lingering fury in your limbs. Maybe you just needed a walk. You cleared your throat and kept your hand clutched to your chest, the whispering ache pulsing in rhythm with your heart.

In all the hours you’d been in the cockpit, the Steadfast had continued to orbit Orinda. Xi-class shuttles whirled beyond the hangar entrance--probably staffed with crew collecting reconnaissance from whatever the Resistance left behind from the attack. Your feet carried you to the fuzzy blue edge of the magnetic shield’s barrier, meters from vacant space. A quiet hum resonated from its perimeter through your soles. 

You gazed into the galaxy. Orinda was a glimmering grain of sand, adrift in the celestial trenches. A fuel outpost turned graveyard. An acceptable casualty of the Resistance. Another home where you couldn’t return. That whispering ache rumbled to a hiss and cast itself over your skin, raking it over with misery, with exhaustion. Your chin quivered. The only place you could think to sleep was the silencer. Eyes falling to the floor, you turned back to the hangar.

“My quarters.”

You squealed and jumped, clapping your hands to your chest. Feet away stood Kylo Ren.

“Shit!” you said, exhaling in relief. “How the hell do you do that?” When he said nothing, you continued, “Like, sneak up on me like that.” 

“You’re not perceptive.”

You frowned. “Okay, well…” He wasn’t wrong. You sighed, shrugged. “Anyway.”

Kylo stepped forward, assessing you in your tank top, scrutinizing the tourniquet you’d made of your jacket. “Your hand.” 

“It’s fine,” you said, holding it behind your back. “Your quarters?”

His stare lingered on your exposed shoulders, on your neck. “Stay,” he said. “Until the silencer is repaired.”

“That could be as early as next cycle.” 

“Given your skill, yes.”

It was difficult to look in his direction. Every worn nerve screamed for his touch. “And then what?”

“You’ll depart to another station.”

You tried to flush the pain from your voice. “So,” you said, “you want me to stay with you through, like, one cycle, and then leave.” You looked to the ceiling in faux-consideration. “Cool. I think I’ll pass.” 

Kylo’s eye twitched. He moved closer, tone icy. “You have nowhere to sleep,” he said. “I…” He paused. His tongue rolled in his mouth. “You mean to tell me you prefer the silencer.”

“Well,” you replied, “I’ve never fucked the silencer. I never told the silencer how I felt about it. The silencer has never treated me like a stranger who just walked off the plains of Lothal.” You tapped your chin. “So, yeah, I prefer the silencer.”

He grit his teeth. “You’re no stranger.”

“Sure could’ve fooled me!” A couple of heads turned in your direction.

“Quiet,” he hissed. “It apparently takes very little for you to be fooled.”

“Excuse me?” you replied. “Run that by me again, Supreme Leader?”

“Now your hearing fails you.”

“This is great.” You offered a false smile. “This conversation is going really well.”

Kylo snarled, shoulders bunching with restraint. “You speak this way and then question why you’re unwelcome,” he replied. “Deaf and foolish.”

“Oh!” A frustrated laugh escaped. “Okay, then. Talk to you later, Your Excellency. I need a nap before I keep trying to fix your dumbass ship.”

Shaking your head, you folded your arms over your chest and stormed past him, anger blurring your vision. Stupid fucking asshole--

You made it three steps before a warm leather glove grabbed your shoulder, and you stalled, goosebumps shooting to your hands. Kylo spun you, your face inches from his, your breath fleeing and forgetting to return. His lips trembled, his jaw tightened, his gaze boring into you before it met the floor, seeking to stare anywhere else. The pressure of his fingers was firm, then floating. And then he swallowed, grip crushing your shoulder, his eyes finding you again. 

No one else in the hangar would’ve known, looking at him. But this Kylo Ren was familiar to you. 

This Kylo Ren was terrified.

“I don’t…” His voice was a feather in the air. “You are…” He averted his attention, stiffening. “You have a home.”

Your chest swelled. Water stung your eyes. “I do?”

“Yes,” he replied, utterly sincere. “But not here. Not now.”

Hairline fractures crept into your heart.

“Kylo.” Your composure cracked. All of you wanted to melt, to disintegrate into his being and know each word trapped on his tongue. There was a reason you could not find him, that he would not unfold himself to you. “Please. Why do you want me gone so badly?”

His lips parted, as if he were about to speak--and he paused. He drew in a breath through his nose. “Complications,” he replied. “Factors you do not understand.”

You stepped closer, throat tight. His breath brushed your nose. “Tell me, then.”

Kylo huffed, shifting on his feet--and his face froze. His limbs locked, muscles taut. His gaze widened, fixated on something over your shoulder. Air leaked from him, like time was slowing to a close. You blinked, looked behind you. But nothing was there. 

Frowning, you cleared your throat. “Kylo?” He didn’t even acknowledge you. “You’re really just going to leave it like that?” 

His pupils were pinpricks.

It wasn’t like you were heartless. You knew that he was attempting wasn’t easy. But what you were feeling wasn’t a sail on a skiff either. You didn’t just deserve more. You needed it.

“Okay,” you said, backing out of his hold. “This was nice. But I have a TIE fighter to repair. So.” He didn’t respond. Didn’t even move. “Whatever.”

You turned--Kylo’s focus flicked to you. His mouth dropped, like there were words he wanted to and couldn’t speak. Instead, he remained silent, fury simmering in his gaze while you pivoted away. You didn’t say anything either. You didn’t think you had to.

When you arrived at the silencer, you clambered into the cockpit, like it was a hole you could hide in until he disappeared. Shame, stubbornness, or surrender--you imagined one of these was responsible for why he didn’t pursue you, but you didn’t care. This ship repair would be your parting gift to him, and you could take off, probably spending the rest of your life wondering how you’d managed to fuck up your affair with the galaxy’s most ineligible bachelor.

Loose panels still swarmed the pilot’s chair. You sighed and put on your jacket, settling in and throwing your feet on the dash. Your hand thumped with irritation as you closed your eyes.

Just a couple of hours. That’s all you needed. Then you’d keep working like the foolish little--

Clank.

You yelped, flinching in your seat. 

Clank.

Heart fluttering, you scanned the cockpit before realizing the noise came from outside the ship.

Clank.

It was behind you. Someone was messing with the refuel port. Or the solar lines. You couldn’t tell. Grumbling, you scrambled out of the chair and hoisted yourself up the escape. If they were fucking up this stupid ship even further--

Clankclankclank.

“Hey!” You popped your head free. “Will you...”

For a split second, you’d thought Kylo had decided to rip the solar line access open and tear into his own power supply. But then your vision focused. The man crouched over the ship was a different intimidating masked man dressed only in black. Your stomach twisted. It was the one from the Buzzard. The one who’d shoulder-checked you.

“Kuruk.”

His head whipped in your direction, the talons of his predator’s gaze gouging your chest. He pulled his hands free of the solar lines, his gloves greasy with reactant.

“Lieutenant.” 

Previously you’d thought absolutely no one but Hux could spit that word with that degree of acidity. But if Hux spat it like acid, then Kuruk hocked it--dragged it up through his throat and sputtered it like necrotic phlegm. 

You crawled onto the dorsal plane with the coordinated majesty of a blurrg, trying not to heave  and ruin any level of authority you might have tricked him into thinking you maintained. When you’d made it to both feet, you straightened, as if you did this all the time, and moved toward him.

“What are you doing?” 

“Repairing a starfighter.”

You snorted. “Really,” you replied. “Tearing out a power supply is repairing?”

Kuruk jerked his arm, wrenching free another line, spewing collector dust into the air. “Closer to repairing than sleeping in the cockpit.”

Heat rushed your spine, swathed your neck. “Yeah, well…” You examined him, watching as he cocked his head to avoid the blinders attached to his helmet. “At least I can see properly when I work on a ship.” 

“Magnification’s built into the visor.”

More heat, this time crackling in your cheeks, drying your tongue. “Look,” you said, “this is my job. I don’t need amateurs screwing it up for me.”

He paused, turned his gaze on you again. “Amateurs?”

You shrugged. “In comparison, yeah, probably.”

Kuruk leaned on his heels, wiping his gloves on his jacket. “I don’t think so.”

“Uh, I do.” This man looked like a weapon. Not an engineer. “What experience do you have?”

“It’s called the Night Buzzard,” he replied. “You might be familiar with it.”

You paused, brow raising. “You…” It was impossible to restrain your laughter. But he didn’t move. “You’re kidding. Right? That’s a joke.”

Kuruk’s hands tensed.

“Dude, that ship’s the ugliest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” you replied. “Did you modify it with a boiled chokeroot?”

His head tilted. He rose to stand, so controlled he looked to be fighting gravity. “I can do more work with a boiled chokeroot than you can do with an entire Star Destroyer’s worth of resources,” he drawled. “Lieu. Tenant.” 

The hair on your nape stuck straight, your pulse leapt to the ceiling. But the knowledge that Kylo was within thinking distance abated your fear. 

“Might wanna get one then.” You grinned. “You’re not making much progress here without it.”

He stared, filthy fingers furling into fists--and then relaxed, the tension sloughing like reactor slime from his frame. Silent, he returned to a squat, rending more lines from their channels. For some reason, a tiny, irreverent part of you was disappointed. 

No, that was a lie. You knew why you were disappointed. But this man wasn’t the one you wanted to be taunting into a wild sexual rage. Exhaling, you crossed your arms. 

“It’s still my job,” you said.

“And I’ve been told that once it’s done, you’ll be gone.”

“What?” You gawked. “What the fuck? You, too? I didn’t even do anything to you!”

“Debatable.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re mad because your Master didn’t want you to disrespect an officer.”

“No.” Kuruk’s attention snapped to you. “You’re loud.”

Blood drained from your face. “I’m…”

Moments blinked in your memory like a holodrama. Like how you’d spent the entire time aboard the Buzzard thinking about Kylo slamming you against the dashboard and breaking your pussy open. How you’d mentally undressed him, verbally taunted him, physically ached for him. How you’d blazed with hatred for him and stoked it with longing. And how you’d just noted that you were desperate to wind him into a state of frenzied lust so he’d wreck you entirely.

“Oh, fuck.” You glanced at the hangar’s entrance and wondered how quickly you could hurl yourself into the vacuum of space. Speaking of hurling… “Oh, fuck.”

You couldn’t spare Kuruk another glance. With shaking hands, you fumbled your way to the ground, steadying yourself on your weakening knees. There was no way you were going to spend another minute on this ship trying to fix a starfighter while getting thought-eavesdropped by multiple men, one of whom seemed hell-bent on doing your job for you anyway. 

All you needed to do was find General Hux and get him to reassign you to another station. You’d figure the rest out later when you had time to process your myriad of losses and crippling rejection. You held your breath the entire trek to the command center, only releasing when the doors opened and you spied Hux at the head of the room, briefing someone on something you didn’t care about. 

Wiping your forehead, you trudged over to him. Hux’s gaze darted between you and the other officer, his brow furrowing as you approached.

“A moment,” he said to the man. “Can I help you, Lieutenant?”

Yeah, it definitely sounded worse out of Kuruk’s mouth. “Can I get a new station? I, uh, I need a new station.” The officer peered at you in horror. You coughed, standing at attention. “General. Requesting a new assignment, sir.”

Hux’s lips pursed, his eyes narrowed. “The silencer is already repaired?”

“Uh, no. No, sir, it’s not.” You stared at your shoes. “Still requesting a new assignment. I believe my work here is complete.”

A pause hung in the air. Hux observed you like you were a recently apprehended criminal. He sighed. 

“Dismissed, Captain.” He waited for the man to depart before turning to you. “What do you mean, your work here is complete?”

It was hard to find the appropriate words. “I mean. Uh. Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“No.”

You groaned. “Okay.” A long breath, flooding your lungs with air. “Well. My services are no longer required. My presence is redundant. I cannot return to Orinda. I’m requesting another station.” You exhaled. “Sir.”

Hux’s pink face pinched together. “Something happened with Ren.”

Warmth flushed your neck. “Uh, no--”

“Lieutenant,” he said, like the words were thorns on his tongue, “I unfortunately believe your insight and skill may still be of use to the First Order.” 

“Sir?”

“The TIE project has been approved. You may be just the person to manage it.” 

You balked. “Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea--”

“No?” Sharp green eyes pierced you into silence. “I thought you might leap at the opportunity, considering how cruelly the Resistance slaughtered your staff.”

Your heart clenched, your chest speared with pain. Better TIE units wouldn’t save them. But you could at least ensure their loss wouldn’t be in vain. Though you’d never supervised an undertaking of that scale before, the excitement of a challenge glittered in the distance. Glittered, then dimmed under a brooding, Kylo Ren-shaped shadow.

“Well…”

Hux glanced away, gazing through the thick panes of transparisteel, as if offering you any more praise would blind him. “Go to the Supreme Leader. Inform him of my plans.” He offered a slight shrug. “If he disagrees, then so be it. We’ll find you a new station.” The thought was left unfinished--he seemed very confident Kylo would not disagree.

Too bad you disagreed with him. “Yes, sir,” you replied. “I understand. Where might I find the Supreme Leader?”

Hux frowned. “Am I his keeper, Lieutenant?” 

A brief, blissful image of your fist connecting with his chin flashed through your mind. You shook it away.

“No,” you said. “No, sir. I’ll find him. Thank you.”

He nodded. “Dismissed.”

Shooting him a glare, you pivoted on your heel, marching out of the command center. All you needed to do was find where Kylo Ren might be by searching the entirety of this huge Star Destroyer. That would be easy.

[strrawberrii]

love loop {one} myg

that pesky little thing called fate really is a bitch. 

pairing: min yoongi x reader

tag / warnings: some cursing

author note: sorry for being gone for so long! life happened. but i’m back with our favorite mint haired boy, min yoongi. this chapter really is an opener for the oc and her life. watch out for a certain mint haired boy. i hope you enjoy <3

The red string of fate. That pesky little thing called destiny that was tied to another person and locked in an eternal circle; a love loop. The very thing that changed the trajectory of my life, that blossomed chance and coincidence, that pushed me onto a different path and had me headed towards an individual that was about to make my life a living hell.

It was like the world had become suffocating and the days seemed to stretch endlessly and blur together in a way that made me anxious. It was times like these that made my head spin as I tried my hardest to look past the haze and fog that somehow became a permanent resident in my head to think of the last time I had even eaten anything. The listless weeks that stretched on seemed to always end like this; questions bogging down my body and mind until I just couldn’t take it anymore and would eventually let myself fall into a restless slumber. Life had become one long spin cycle and I was starting to feel like there was really no exit sign to the monotony of it all.

But, in all reality, it really was all my fault.

I’d lost the only thing I’d ever really cared about when the company I’d started to work for after college got bought out by a larger one. They dissolved my department and thus all the workers in it. I’d been surviving on endless cup noodles and cold tea ever since as I bounced around from one part time job to another just to make the bills on time. If it hadn’t been for some of the leftovers from my cafe job as the owner took pity on me, I think I would have at one point or another completely starved to death.

As if, I thought bitterly as I wiped down the last table of my shift, I’d ever be so lucky.

The sound of the clock was alarming as it ticked...ticked...ticked...ever so slowly and it was all my mind could process as I tried too hard to let the time pass without obsession. This night needed to be done and over with. This month was the coldest of the year so far and the dreary sky outside did nothing to help with the depressive mood that succumbed me. As much as I tried endlessly to think of anything else, it was futile. The gurgle in my stomach proved as much as I sighed as realization hit that I’d more than likely have to walk all the way home to afford a hot meal or sacrifice dinner for some fleeting warmth. As much as the owners of the small cafe let me have my fair share of meals, it was by no means a solution to the issues I found plaguing me at the end of every day and I would by no means take advantage of their kind hospitality. It was, after all, all my fault I found myself in this mess.

I couldn’t help but sigh a long and aggravated breath. Art and design, I thought sourly again. Who was I to think that I could pull that off? That I would actually have a life and a career out of something like that? It was thoughts like these that occupied my mind a lot these days as the clock continued to tick...tick...tick and I continued to berate myself so much that I felt hot tears forming at the corner of my eyelids. The department I had worked in had been so small that it was only made up of a handful of people and I had been so elated when I got that job, thinking that life was actually starting to look up from everything I’d been through before, only to realize a beat too late that a happy ending just wasn't in the cards for me it seemed. At least, I thought as I tossed the rag I had been holding down, not in something I loved.

“You’re free to go, dear.” Kyung-Hu, the owner of the cafe, patted the top of my head to gain my attention and snap me out of my sulk fest. He was a greying old man who had taken pity upon me when he found me sleeping at the bus stop a street over from the cafe front. He’d been letting me work crazy hours to try and afford to be a human ever since. “Try not to fall asleep this time, yeah?” Despite my foul mood, I could never ever deny that Kyung-Hu and his wife, Ji-hyun, had saved me in a time when I was at my lowest. I felt a smile willingly break out on my chapped lips as his eyes crinkled when he did the same.

“Are you sure? You don’t need me to close with you tonight?” I watched as he sighed, shaking his head as he patted mine again. In most cases it felt that Kyung-Hu and Ji-hyun treated me like I was one of their children. Something that, although I would stubbornly never admit to, made being alone in this big city not so bad. Thinking that I also thought of my own parents and how, the last time we’d spoken, things didn’t go so well.

“Go home. Get some rest, okay? This old man will be fine to close alone.”

“If you’re sure.” I couldn’t help but smile again despite my disappointment that he was sending me home. Even though I wanted the night to be over with, that didn’t mean that I wanted to leave the free heat or leave the old man by himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Gramps.” He laughed at the nickname as the bell over the door signaled that we had a customer as I turned around to walk towards the back room; thoughts wholly preoccupied with the dilemma that faced me and no longer any concerns for customers since the old man had freed me of my duty to care.

Food or warmth? I wracked my brain, going back and forth. Food or warmth? Would I rather walk an hour in the slushy cold or have a full belly? Sighing, I picked up my belongings and walked back out onto the floor, no closer towards an outcome of food or warmth or, really, anything to solve any problem in my life as the list was vastly long and overwhelming. The only thing I could be thankful for in that moment was the warmth the cafe was gifting me as I was currently trying my hardest to remain inside the slower and slower I walked towards the bitter air outside.

The cafe, Fleur de Seoul, was small and tucked away in an endless row of buildings that housed everything from karaoke bars to office spaces. It was in a good neighborhood and was very popular amongst the twenty-somethings and young business crowd for it’s endless layers of nostalgia for a fairytale-like space - walls covered in art, a book exchange tucked in the corner underneath a news clipping of their opening that, no matter how many times you tried, would never hang on the wall straight. Dried flowers hung from the ceiling so the whole place was coated in a field of beauty and smelt like heaven with the notes of coffee and flowers wafting every which way. It was nice, nestled underneath ivy and baby's breath that Kyung-Hu liked to freshen every other week and it was by all means my second home. I had started to sit inside on days where I had nothing else to do but bum the heat off the old man when I couldn’t afford to get mine turned back on, get a cup of hot tea and sketch for hours until I had to walk back to my cold ass hole in the wall.

I couldn’t help but curse as my thoughts were stuck, dreading the thought of what I was going back to. So lost in thought, in fact, that I didn’t notice the mint haired boy narrowly miss me as I passed through the cafe unaware that despite not really believing in coincidences, the red string of fate was tugging at my pinky as I tried my best to drown myself in layers of clothing to bite off the nipping and inevitable cold. I needed to be reminded that, while fully unaware that my trajectory of life was about to completely change, fate was in fact a cruel bitch who was out to get me.

[cakejots]

this is us trying, Chapter 1 - The Beginning of an End

In this AU, they don’t know each other outside of the suit. And in this AU, Ladybug and Chat Noir love each other. But in this AU, Chat doesn’t want their identities revealed.

Written for @ladynoirjuly 2021

notes: this is a coherent story based on all the prompts; each chapter contains at least 3 prompts

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10

Read on AO3

1. Older

“Well, Chaton?”

Chat stared at Ladybug as though she had grown an extra head.

“My lady, are you sure you want to know?”

“Oh come on Chat, there are at least tens of thousands of people who are of the same age. There’s no way you can figure out who I am just from that.” She leaned forward, chin on her palms and eyes sparkled with anticipation.

“Hmm, that is true.” His fingers under his chin, eyes searching the sky. “I'm turning 21 this year.”

Ladybug looked dazed for a moment before smugness took over. “So I was right about your age! Well, the age range at least.”

“Oh? And how did my lady manage to guess it?”

Ladybug slowly ran her eyes down his body before peering right back into his eyes, and she smiled innocently.

Chat barked out a laugh.

“Now guess mine!”

“Don’t need to. I know you’re in the same age range as meow.”

She raised an eyebrow and his lips curled slyly. “The same way you managed to guess my age. Do you really want me to say it? Or in this case, show it to you?”

Ladybug couldn’t help but blush. “Okay, okay. You’re not wrong, I’m turning 21 this year too.”

Chat’s child-like demeanour came back, eyes lighting up. “Okay, but now I have to know who’s actually older! Mine’s in September.”

“I'm Leo, so the range is from July to August,” she grinned.

Chat regarded her with a mixture of awe and shock. “No way… You’re actually older than me!”

“Why is this a shock to you? I am more mature than you are,” Ladybug giggled.

“I mean, yeah, but for that fact to get thrust into my face, it just feels—”

“Surreal. I get it,” she sighed blissfully.

They fell into a peaceful silence as this new realisation settled within their hearts and minds. They were finding the most minute of things to share without giving away their identities, and just this tiny, basic fact about each other was overwhelming enough.

This, was something they could experience soon enough, to be normal again and enjoy the process of courting. This, was something they could slowly discover about each other soon enough, to fall in love harder, and to fall in love all over again.

“We are so close. So so close.” Chat gazed into her eyes, took her hand in his and squeezed, much like how his heart was feeling as it was overcome with emotions.

“We are finally nearing the end of all of this.” Ladybug pulled him into a tight hug.

2. Masks

It was over.

It was finally over.

It was a joyous day for Parisians as the supervillain who had been terrorising their city over the past few years had finally been caught and sent to prison.

It was a joyous day indeed.

But why was the atmosphere surrounding him so burdensome, just like the downpour that struck ever since he had entered the Agreste mansion?

The thunderstorm that raged above him, the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculouses that sat in his palm, and the face of the supervillain who was actually his father, glaring at him from a distance away with absolute despise and fury, they all seemed to be mocking him for his ill-fortune.

Of course there was no happy ending for him, even after the final battle. How could he have been so naive to believe that there was a positive outcome for him? He was the epitome of bad luck. From being chosen to be the Black Cat Miraculous holder, right down to his fate that had decided his course for him ever since he was brought into this world.

He was all alone now. His mother’s passing during his early teenage years had left an open wound in his heart. He saw the funeral happened. He cried as the ceremony went on for days on end. He was there to witness the burial of his mother. Those were definitive proof that his mother had passed. He has been mourning for his mother every year on her death anniversary.

So imagine his shock when he saw her in the basement he didn’t know existed, still as radiant and beautiful as he remembered. And to be slapped with the knowledge that his father had a hand in all of this.

He had a hand in withholding the truth about his mother’s whereabouts all this time. The truth that he had rights to. That she was well and alive but in deep deep slumber, one that she might never awake from. He had a hand in causing him so much pain, so much trauma. To be the perfect child he is to be, else he was no son of Gabriel. The direct role his father played in causing him to feel neglected, unloved, and worthless. Just so that he could play the supervillain and recruit innocent Parisians in his quest to obtain the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses.

He caused Parisians so much pain, stripping them of their right to feel what they feel. A minor slipped up from being unable to control their emotions and they became the villains for the day. He had used them for his selfish desires, to do his dirty work for him. All this for not being able to move on from the death of his wife. Not being able to accept the natural cycle of life.

And all of this had happened under his nose, but he didn’t even know. He has been living with the supervillain all his life. He has interacted with the supervillain almost daily. He has shown care and concern for the supervillain. He has forgiven the supervillain for his actions, always telling himself that he had his reasons for acting the way he did. He was a superhero and he didn’t even know.

If he had known, maybe he'd be able to convince his father to stop whatever he was doing. Maybe even prevent the current outcome of events, and even save his father from serving jail time. Some superhero he is.

He didn't know what would become of his mother, but he had long accepted that she had passed. And now, his father will leave his side, to pay for what he did.

Chat was truly alone now.

“Chaton?”

He blinked and looked over to his left. His lady was standing right beside him with concerned eyes, her hands on his left arm. The rain had lightened up considerably and he could see her as clear as day. He didn’t register her touch until he had seen it himself.

Chat wordlessly turned towards her and extended his right hand, the hand that held the two missing Miraculouses. He was expecting her to take them from him and called it a day with their habitual fist bump, but she closed his right hand and held both his hands in hers tightly and peered into his eyes.

“Chaton, are you alright?”

Ladybug cursed herself for asking the obvious. Clearly, he wasn’t feeling his usual self. The cheeky and confident demeanour he always had after the end of a battle was gone. His ears, tail, and posture seemed so deflated and depressed that he just looked like a kitten kicked hard.

She touched his face.

Chat grabbed her hand on his face and wanted to smack himself. His lady was right beside him all this time as he was drowning himself in self-loathing and self-pity. He couldn't let his gloominess take hold of her on this glorious day.

“I’m fine,” Chat showcased the brightest smile he could muster at that moment.

Ladybug worried her lips, not buying it for a single second.

“Chaton…”

He knew she wasn’t going to buy his act with the way she was watching him. Chat really didn’t know what he should do. His hand squeezed hers, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Can we go for a run, just for a while? I promised we’ll talk when we meet up again at the Eiffel Tower.”

When Ladybug didn’t respond, he opened his eyes to beg. “Please?”

Ladybug squeezed his hand before nodding and letting go, giving him a head start. Chat caught her hands before they fell completely by her side, and placed the Miraculouses within her palms. He made sure she put them away securely before jumping away. She followed him soon after, giving him the time and space he needed.

.

When Ladybug arrived at the Eiffel Tower, Chat seemed really nervous. She really didn’t know what made him like this, but he shouldn’t be that restless. Not of the revelations he made during the final battle and his rooftop run, and he definitely should not be uneasy about her arriving.

She extended her arms towards him. “Minou, can I hug you?”

Chat rushed to her and embraced her tightly. Her hands drew soothing circles on his back to release tension from his body, and he relaxed ever so slightly into hers.

“Okay, I’m ready to talk.” He took a deep breath to mentally prepare himself before he continued. “I-I know you’re looking forward to the reveal after the final battle. I am too. We’ve waited years for this moment. But… but can we not do that now?”

Ladybug instantly pulled back and gawked at him. To say that she was shocked was an understatement. She did not expect this at all. Yes, she totally forgot about the reveal because she was so focused on making sure he’s alright, but for him to just drop the bomb on her like that. “But—”

“I know this is a really unfair request from me,” he quickly added. “But I don’t want to deceive you. We can go on dates in our suits! So that you get to know me. All of me. How I act in and out of battle.”

He slowly averted his gaze. “And that the feelings you have for me will still be there even after our dates.”

Ladybug couldn’t believe her ears, Chat is still Chat, no matter the situation. The fact that he didn’t even include her in the proposal he just suggested made it obvious that he wasn’t even convinced himself. They both knew that they weren’t going to act any different. They’ve hung out outside of Akuma attacks, they will be the same in and out of the suit. It just didn’t make sense.

“Chat...” she pleaded.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry. Please don’t leave me,” he sobbed and enveloped her in a bear hug, afraid that she'd run if he didn’t have a tight enough grasp on her.

Wait, what? No, no! Where did he get the idea that she’s going to leave?

“I-I can’t—”

That's absurd.

“Chat, you don’t have to explain.” Her hands continued the back rubs from before, making sure that it soothed him enough till he’s comfortable loosening his grip. She slowly pulled back and cupped his cheeks, a smile on her face. “Words are not needed. I may not understand the reasons behind your decisions now, but I trust that your heart is in the right place.”

That subtle shine in his eyes did not go unnoticed by Ladybug. “Words cannot express how thankful I am, my lady.”

“Well, then better make it up to me with the dates you promised.”

“Of course, my lady.”

Judging the look on his face, she slowly added, “Do you need more time to sort things out?”

“I don’t know. Can you stay with me a while longer?”

She nodded understandingly and went back to hugging him. Chat tightened his arms around her and breathed in her scent. Her fingers left delicate touches in its trail from his back to his scalp, knowing full well that it's a gesture he’d appreciate. Low rumbles of purring slowly filled the air around them.

They stayed tangled for who knows how long before Ladybug popped the question.

“About the masks, are you sure?”

“Yeah. We don’t drop them,” Chat said with a conviction he knew was never there.

3. Tease

It’s been a week since the defeat of Shadowmoth.

A week since Chat broke down from whatever he had experienced during that short time frame of the final battle.

A week since he had declined the reveal.

Ladybug wasn’t pleased, how could she be? She had waited 6 long years for that, ever since the day they first met and swore to protect Paris from Hawkmoth’s clutches. Well, Shadowmoth now.

It sucked. Even Shadowmoth has had development. Her relationship with Chat? Null.

No. It wasn’t fair to say that. Of course their relationship had developed. From practical strangers to lovers, they trusted each other with their lives, even if they didn’t know who the other was behind that mask. That’s some intense trust they have right there.

But still.

She was really looking forward to the reveal. They were really looking forward to the reveal.

Chat must have had a reason for what he chose that day, strong enough to throw away what he desired most. But what?

Ladybug sighed, she supposed the only thing she could do was to hope that nothing about their relationship had changed. And be there for him when he needs it, like a good girlfriend she is. Are they even a couple? The unnamed boundaries were causing her additional anxiety she didn’t need now. She guessed she’d have to talk it out with Chat and make clear where they stood.

She got broken out of her thoughts when she heard footsteps approaching her.

“Hey...”

Before she even turned around, the tone of his voice sounded so tired, as though coming here was a chore for him. He had shared with her before that meeting her is always the highlight of his day. For it to become a chore… He must be really affected by it.

“My lady?” He stopped behind her.

That wouldn’t do.

She whipped around and flicked his bell, “Hey Chaton, you’re here!”

And as if that wasn’t enough, she had the sweetest smile he has ever seen plastered on her beautiful face. Those rosy cheeks and welcoming lips upturned, and the whites of her teeth slightly visible from her smile, directed at him. So happy to see him. So thrilled for him to be here.

It shot right through his heart. He couldn’t do anything else besides fixate his eyes on her radiant and alluring face.

“Aww, cat got your tongue? Or in this case, a ladybug got your tongue?” She cooed and flicked his bell once more.

She was relieved she still has this effect on him.

“S-she definitely did.” A pink hue dusted his cheeks.

Cute.

Ladybug figured the only thing she could do was to remind him of all the enjoyable memories they had together and banish the sad ones that gripped him from a week ago. The reveal can wait. What's important was to make sure he doesn’t forget why they wanted the reveal in the first place.

She concluded upping her tease factor was the way to go.

“I’ll make sure you know that my feelings for you are real and you won’t be able to resist my charms any longer.”

“My lady,” Chat whined. He was already regretting his decisions from a week before.

Ladybug, on the other hand, was grinning. She’d accept whatever he’s willing to give. She supposed she could get the ball rolling, to begin filling in on fresh empty pages as they experience falling in love all over again. Because deep down, that is what they’ve wanted after all.

[softlilacmoonlight]

Brothers x Reader - Help? Please? (Part Two)

(Y/N) pov:

After the shocking events of yesterday, I passed out in my bed and slept like the absolute dead. Opening my eyes, I see that my clock says it's ten am. Well, yesterday was quite emotionally straining on all ends of the spectrum.

"AAAAHAHHHAHHAHHAHDJSSUAAHSHHAHAHAHAHAHSHUHADHAHAH!!!!!!!!!!" Suddenly a scream pierces through the House of Lamentations.

Now I may not be an expert, but that sounded like a very feminine Levi scream. Throwing the covers off of my bed, I race out of my bedroom and towards the otaku's recluse den. Upon reaching the outside, I see the others anxiously standing outside the door.

"Why didn't you check on him!?" I yell as I hurl myself through the door.

Suddenly the door closes before the others can follow and I turn to see Levi standing by the door. "NO! GO AWAY! (Y/N) ONLY!" he screams through the wood.

"Levi! What's wrong?" I ask, panic heavily laced through my voice.

Levi turns bright red and looks at me. "When I-I-I woke u-u-up I was bleeding and..."

"Say no more Levi. Go climb in the shower and clean yourself up. I'll handle this." I soothe as the otaku nods and rushes to his shower.

I slip out of the room and shoo the worried brothers away. From there I rush to my room, grab some pads, and make my way back to Levi's room. He's still in the shower. Good. Stripping his bed lining, I walk over to his sink and turn on the icy cold water. Quickly, I put soap on the sheets and start to scrub until the blood comes out. Then I hang it up to air dry, and silently thank heaven that it was so easy to get that out. Lastly, I do that to everything covered in blood, and precisely at the moment I finish, Levi calls.

"Hey um... (Y/N)?" he calls, voice meek and scared.

I grab some clothes while I holler at the man. "Coming! Give me a second. Stay in the shower!"

I grab a full outfit of clothes and make my way over to the bathroom, and since I know Levi has a curtain I enter.

"(Y/N)!" he half screams.

I let out a tired huff and sit on the toilet seat. "You're in the shower with the curtain drawn. Chill. Now, pay attention."

Showing him step by step, I explain how to use pads and I show him how to apply them. Painstakingly, I also explain to him why females have to do this. Let's just say that Levi wasn't the only flustered one. After some rather embarrassing questions, I leave and allow him to get dressed.

"Thank you (Y/N)." squeaks Levi as he leaves the bathroom fully dressed.

Marching over, I give him a once-over. "Are you comfortable?"

"Um..." he stammers. "This is probably what a diaper feels like."

"Just a bit, but it's better than tampons." I giggle.

He tilts his head to the side in question. "What's a tam-"

"You don't wanna know!" I exclaim.

Conveniently at that exact moment, another scream rips through the air and I dash out of Levi's room. I jet through the halls till I make it to the outside of Asmo's room. I walk in only to find out that I have to repeat the cycle. Later, after I clean up another mess, I call a group meeting in the living room (after placing towels on the cushions).

One by one the brothers file in. "SIT," I order. Their eyes go wide and they quickly plant themselves on the couch.

"(Y/N)?" inquires Mammon.

"SHUSH! Now, Levi and Asmo have both gotten this talk and it is depressing how little they knew. Especially since Asmo knew so little. So you all are going to sit and get a little lesson from me. But first, everybody is putting on pads!" I exclaim in one singular breathe.

Once more, I explain how pads work, and then once they're all on I continue. I explain how the entire female reproductive system works, and by the time I'm done everybody is tomato red. I too am a deep scarlet red. I also force all of the boys to sit on the couch with heat pads and pain killers coursing through their systems. I. Am. Not. Dealing. With. Cramps.

Over time, one by one they each start their period. How do I know? Simple, they make a facial expression but try to hide it from me. When I realize that four hours has already gone by with us sitting on our phones, watching movies, and me bringing them lunch, I realize that none of them have changed their pads. In the words of even the two most intellectual of them: 'We didn't know we could!' Massive facepalm moment, so I once more explain that you can change them when you feel... more uncomfortable than you already do.

As the afternoon slips by, we do very little other than slip movie after movie through the DVD player. I even got to take a nap, which is surprising since they're all very clingy.  When I come to, Beel's soft feminine voice breaks the silence.

"(Y/N)?" he asks quietly.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sit up. "Yeah?"

"When we're back to normal," he starts. "I promise to take care of you during your period. This is absolutely horrible. How do you handle it?"

I stare silently at the seven in shock. "Well... um... I guess I'm used to it. I started when I was a teen, so I just guess that experience has helped. Other than cramps. The cramps never get better. As for taking care of me, that's sweet Beel but unnecessary. Remember when we went to the beach?"

"Yeah?" answers Mammon for the group.

I let out a little chuckle. "I was on my monthly."

"What! But you said that pads can't be used for swimming!?" exclaims Satan.

"Well, they can't," I state. "But don't worry your little heads about that. You guys only have to last a week. I have to last till menopause."

Lucifer scrunched his eyebrows together in thought. "Menopause?"

Hence how I launched into a very long-winded answer about what menopause is. When I finished, Levi decided to stop working and passed out on the couch. On the other hand, it's better than everybody staring at me. I don't give them much time to think though. Getting up, I go to make dinner. Afterward, I help usher seven very emotionally and physically tired men to bed. I help them get their outfits picked, and I even tuck them in before saying goodnight and leaving the room.

Phew! It's been a really long day. I don't even take the time or energy to change. Instead, I fall on my bed and the minute my head hits the pillow I was pass out... that is until Levi woke up and totally forgot everything that happened for a second and once more screams.

I, however, curl back up into my pillow and try to drown out the rest of creation. They'll be fine for another hour. The literal drama queens.

[sebbytrash]

Through His Eyes - Part Seventeen

Summary - Bucky arrives at the compound to start afresh but you and him have a somewhat colorful past, colorful being that you met him once before as The Winter Soldier and it did not go well. New beginnings, yeah? If you can learn to forgive.

Pairing - Eventual Bucky x Reader

Warnings -   Nightmares, angst, self loathing, sad stuff my guys.

A/N - I’m sorry. Trust me. 

Through His Eyes Masterlist

“No, please. No.” Bucky’s agonised moans wake you, sharply, his hands twisting in the sheets. “Not her, not her.”

“Bucky, shhh, Bucky it’s a dream.” You try to soothe him, smooth a hand across his face. He doesn’t notice, or wake, just continues to fight against some unseen force.

“I can’t.” He pleads, sweat making his hair stick to his face, dark little lines streaking across his forehead to emphasise the pain already written there. “No, no.” He repeats it, over and over, a mantra, a prayer. 

You get up on your knees to crouch over him more, use your hands to shake his shoulders a little and try to ignore the way your heart hammers against your chest, the way it’s threatening to break apart in time with the agony in his screams. “Bucky, wake up! Bucky, you’re okay, you're safe.”

His eyes open, wild and terrified, and you see him see you, see the horror claim his face and see him recoil, push himself further into the mattress to be free from your touch. You know then what his dream was, and how you’d carried it to him when he woke like an unending hell, the dream that won't end.

Your chest is hollow renewed. 

“It’s me, Bucky. You’re awake, I’m here.” You sit back on your haunches, try to give him what little space you can afford without mirroring his retreat and causing any more pain. 

He swallows visibly, closes his eyes with a clenched jaw and then, just when you are about to say something, anything, his eyes open again and lock with yours, a hurricane in those sea-laden eyes. You stare right back, cautious, regretful, because this is everything you wanted to prevent, being the very cause of his pain all over again. A cycle that can never be broken, no matter how hard you try, he tries. 

“Sorry,” he tries to say, voice hoarse from the screaming, swallows again and then clears his throat, “I’m sorry. It’s, uh, been a while since I’ve had one that bad.” You can’t help but notice that he makes no moves towards you, stays exactly where he is, now back pressed against the wall. It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself, even as you ache to touch him. 

“You don’t have to apologise.” You say, automatically, roll your bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt not to press him and then the words pour out of you anyway, like the blood in your mouth. “It was me, right? The dream.” 

He looks away, the muscle in his jaw moving in time to his clenching and then unclenching of his teeth, the darkness of the room dragging along his jaw and high-hollowed cheekbones like he wills them into place, wills a physical barrier between you and him. You hate yourself for asking and yet, need him to answer.

“Yes. It was you.” He says it like it cost him something to do so, each word dragging in the air between you. You feel like a thief, stealing the words from him when he so clearly didn’t want to part with them. A thief further for stealing away his progress like a flesh and blood nightmare, a purgatory made personal for him, for you. 

The silence stretches between you, an open mouth that swallows up all sound and even the memory of sound, a hungry, endless pit of a mouth that swallows you whole. The seconds turn to minutes and slip, like sand, through your fingers and into that mouth until finally, you cast what should be a rope, and instead is an anchor into that mouth-pit. “Well, since I’m up, I’m gonna go get some coffee.”

You see the way his face changes when you say it, think that maybe a slap in the face would have hurt you less and force yourself to climb awkwardly out of his bed and slip out the door before you crumble into dust. He makes no sound, makes no moves to stop you, simply lets you disappear like that dust swept away by the wind.

You retreat to your room, locking the door behind you like it can keep away the thoughts or that wave of despair that's threatening to knock you off your newly found feet, Sam’s concrete already cracking under the strain. You spend hours or minutes pretending to watch TV, ignore Sam when he knocks on your door and Wanda when she texts. You make yourself food and then find yourself staring at the smudges on the wall whilst it goes cold on the table in front of you. The dread in your stomach claws it's way up your throat and threatens to choke you.

You think about that edge you and Bucky had danced along for so long, that leap into the fall you'd taken and those few sweet moments in between where nothing really held its weight to drag you down, soft smiles and smiling, salt water eyes. Well, gravity has its claws in you now, again, you think, and the impact of that fall is fast approaching. 

You know it's him before he knocks, the butterflies that dance along your skin and tumble in your gut whenever he’s near give you more warning than his hesitant knocks, the sounds themselves a sad little song that plucks at the strings of your heart. He waits for you to open the door, which says more about where his head is at than he probably realises, you think, a soft smile that doesn't crinkle his eyes in that way you like is offered, and shared. 

"Hi." You say, and step back to let him in, doing your best to smother those frantic wings.

"I'm sorry about earlier." He rushes out, and you can tell it surprises even him, "I was just caught off guard. And the bruises…"

He trails off and you realise then what he means, your bruises from the sparring with Steve had triggered his nightmares and the suddenness of it makes sense. It changes nothing, but at least it makes sense. 

"You know I'm going to get hurt sometimes, right? What we do here, there's no avoiding it." You begin, not really knowing how to end but knowing that you should.

"I know." His eyes flash, lightning strikes against the turbulent sea, "I just… I didn't know how much it would hurt to see you like that." 

A confession, a secret, meant to be a balm but instead feels like the flames. He'll never be free of the Soldier, you think, not while you walk around like a living hallucination of a past he never deserved. 

"I think…," You start, feel your tongue fat and uncooperative in your mouth, "We need a little space." The air in your lungs already feels like lead, like the concrete that held up your legs is now filling your lungs and chest, drowning you in your own progress.

He says nothing for entirely too long and yet, long enough for you to be grateful for a few more seconds before the collision. "Space."

"I think it's best, don't you?" 

"I can give you space, if it's what you need." He says it like maybe you are the one who needs it.

"Bucky, we can't keep doing this, it's not good for either of us." You say, every bit of emotion clawing its way up your throat, some of it desperate to take back the words. You can feel the shape of each letter scrape against your tongue. "It’s ruining you.”

“It’s not. It’s not.” He says, quieter on the repeat like it’s for himself and not you, his jaw clenches so hard you fear he will snap the tendons. “I love you.”

That’s it, that’s what does it. Breaks you down into all those tiny pieces you used to be, those ones you’ve spent minutes and hours painstakingly stitching and taping back together. You feel the words hollow out space in your chest, replacing the now useless heart that’s beat it’s last beat. The last of your arguments die with it. 

“That’s not what this is, Bucky. It’s a crutch, a coping mechanism. A way to ease all that fucking guilt we carry.” Even to your own ears, you sound void of emotion, the last bit of it carved out by the knowledge of what you had done to him. Guilt howling down the corridors of your heart. “It’s not real.” 

“Don’t say that, of course it’s real.” He breaks the invisible barrier around you and takes your hand, presses your fingertips to his chest, “Can’t you feel it?”. 

He looks at you with such hope that you are almost unmade, the full weight of it hangs off your bones and tries to strip you of that steely nerve but you fight for it, know that this is what he needs if he’s to heal. Go to war with yourself for him. Anything for him.

“I feel a lot of things, Bucky. I feel raw. I feel tired, tired of the guilt, of the fear every time I close my eyes I’ll dream of you, or that I won’t.” The last part sneaks out, betraying more than you want and he latches on to it. “I don’t…”

“Are you afraid you don't love me? Or are you afraid you do?” He asks mildly, like how you might ask about the weather. Or probably, more accurately, like he knows the answer and is just leading you down a path where the answer waits for you to want it.

You shake your head, not in answer but in anger, the kind of uncontrollable rage that comes with defeat. Of words poking at a wound you were denying the existence of. “Stop. Just stop.” Your voice breaks half way, a shout turned cry. A beg for mercy.

“What are you so afraid of?” His voice breaks too, a slow sort of break like the last ebb of his strength, the last air bubble before the silence. It cleaves you in two.

“You!” You shout, pieces of you slipping through your fingertips, not realising what your words would sound like to him. It’s not how you mean it anymore, but he doesn’t know that, takes it on face value alone and you can pinpoint the exact moment you break his ever fragile heart, because you break your own with it. Always with those matching scars and matching pain.

“I’m sorry,” you begin, drift your fingertips across his jaw and let yourself have just one more moment of touching him, “I didn’t....” He closes his eyes, closes himself off, you think, and your fingers smear against the wetness on his face. You turn from him then and head for the door, feeling every single second of the battle and war that raged for him and rages still. 

The sound of the door closing quietly behind you somehow seems worse than if it had slammed, a mirror to the way you had quietly broken the man behind it and even quieter, broken yourself. 

You take a step, and then another, and then more and more until you are out the building and gulping down the fresh air to try calm the beating of your unsteady heart. You fight the urge to go back and undo it all, to somehow scoop up all the words and pieces of you and stuff them back in place but your feet carry you automatically. Somehow, you're not sure how long later but long enough that the sky has changed color, you find yourself at a door, knocking a little too hard and too long until he answers.

“Mallow, what are you doing here?” Clint asks, taking quick stock of your current state and pulling you in for a hug before you can answer.

“I just needed to be away.” You say, and hug him tighter, “Is this okay?”

“Of course it is, come in, Laura’s making cocoa,” he ushers you in, still tucked under his arm, “and you look like you could use some.”

[oyesmendes]

i keep on missing you

a/n: so remember when i said there would be a part two to “all i wanted was a happy ending” ? ya its here.... this was largely inspired by Missing You - The Vamps and i miss you, i’m sorry - Gracie Abrams. hope you guys got some tissues ready HAHAHA sorry in advance! @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln​ @lonelyreputation​ 

read part one here

'Cause I'm sat here in my front room with a girl who ain't you / Hopin' and prayin' you're breakin' up with another fool

The sunlight that streams through the small crack between his curtains is what wakes Shawn up. He has his hand draped across a body - or should he say, his girlfriend’s body and he finds himself frowning at the lack of the olive skin he’s grown so used to waking up to. He’s quick to change his facial expression once he sees the body roll around to face him. The girl grins at him, stroking his cheek and pressing a soft kiss on his lips which he struggles to return.

“Morning, sunshine”

“G’morning” He mumbles back. They don’t say much, only sharing a few kisses and cuddle for what felt like too long before they both stumble out of bed into their morning routines.

Shawn is sitting at the dining table, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram like he was reading the morning papers. He likes a couple pictures posted by friends back in Toronto, before he lands on one that makes his breath hitch.

@kiara_hammani: everyday is worth celebrating with you. happy three months, sweet pea!

It was a picture of her - Kiara. His finger hovers above her face, wanting nothing more than to feel her skin against his. She was in that blue sundress they bought on impulse during a trip to Hawaii two years ago, and she was posing at the beach. Wrapped up in the arms of another man. He’s contemplating if he should zoom in or tap on the tagged account of the man, but decides to just stare at it for a couple more seconds instead. It’s only been less than five months since she moved out, how could she have moved on so quickly?

“Shawn? Hey you there, gorgeous?” Shawn blinks his eyes a couple of times to bring him back to reality. He quickly places his phone face down on the table and smiles softly.

“Yeah? Sorry I got a little distracted.”

“That’s alright, would you like coffee or green tea today?” She was holding up a French press in one hand and pack of teabags in the other. She smiles sweetly at him and Shawn feels himself cringe internally. This girl was everything but Kiara. The tone of her voice constantly laced with sweetness, and pale skin covered with fake tan which made her look orange. He thinks back to all the times that Kiara would purposely use a high-pitched voice to mock the waitress or random girl that was trying to get in his pants and they’d have a good laugh about it. He knows she would’ve done the same right now. Shawn looks at the girl standing in front of him and he hides the disappointment that fills his chest when he realises that she’s not here.

“I’ll have the tea, thank you Chris.” She nods and spins around to make him a mug.

Christine was your typical LA girl. Yeah, the ones that have beach blonde hair, holding a hydro flask and wearing cut off denim shorts all year round. How she and Shawn ended up together for the last two months? Ask management. They initially paired him off with another girl but she was way too much of a blonde that Shawn ended up ditching her on their first meet. He put up a strong fight with the team afterwards and they eventually settled on Christine. She was no where near Kiara, but according to Shawn’s publicist - Christine was the cure to his falling reputation.

So they’ve spent every single day together for the last two months, drowning out all the dirty news of their breakup. Shawn didn’t hate it completely, Christine was too nice to him that he forced himself to enjoy every moment. But he does catch himself comparing her to Kiara, and he can’t seem to shake himself out of it. He watches as Christine turns around, two mugs in her hand. At first, he doesn’t notice the pastel pink mug that belonged to Kiara. But as she places it down on the table, he sees the faint lipstick stain on the edge of the mug and he stops her from lifting it up to her lips.

“What’s wrong?” Christine asks when Shawn’s hand lands on top of hers.

“Throw it out.”

“What? Babe, I just made this-“

“I said THROW IT OUT!” She jumps slightly in her seat when Shawn raises his voice and he immediately regrets it. Christine pushes her chair back, letting them scrape the hardwood floor because she knows how much Shawn hates it when she does that. She gets up from her seat and stalks to the front door.

“You can throw it out yourself.”

Nothing happened in the way I wanted / Every corner of this house is haunted

The front door slams and Shawn is left with the same deafening silence from two months ago. His eyes focus on the mug and then roams the house. Every corner was filled with the essence of Kiara. After their heated argument, she moved out the next morning, taking everything that she could without the need to turn back. Naturally, she left a few shared pieces in the house which Shawn never touched, and it was starting to feel haunting. Each object that she had left - the dark blue curtains from Ikea, the cream coloured throw from a boutique in London, and even that chipped porcelain vase she bought from a kid at a yard sale held three years of happy memories. Memories he couldn’t bear to relive or throw away. Shawn would much rather be alone than to share this special place with someone new, but he couldn’t lose Christine now, especially when his career’s on the line. So he forces himself to grab his keys and pull himself out the front door. He’s out on the streets and thankfully, Christine hasn’t made it too far from the apartment building.

“Christine!” She increases her footsteps but before she could make the corner, Shawn grabs a hold of her arm.

“What do you want, Shawn?” He pulls her closer to him and she’s resting her hand on his chest. Her touch felt different. But Shawn settles for it in the moment.

“You, me and the grocery store.” He smirks at her. A small smile erupts on her face and Shawn knows he’s immediately been forgiven. It’s been a vicious cycle that’s got them through the last 8 weeks - Shawn does something stupid, then he makes it up by suggesting Christine’s favourite activity which he would hate, on a normal day. He knows this isn’t the way to love someone, especially someone who only has good intentions for him. But he needs Christine to stay, at least he thinks he does. She makes the silence less deafening, and it stops Shawn’s head from reeling into his horror movie of thoughts. She was his imaginary safety net, somewhere he could fall into for a moment and not think until reality hits him like a truck again.

-

The store was quiet, and Shawn is thankful for it. He doesn’t need to put on a loving couple front for the cameras or fans that would recognise him from a mile away. He’s pushing the trolley behind Christine, empty focus on the squeaking of the wheels.

“Should we try cashew milk this time? I was watching Claudia’s vlog the other day and she was raving about this brand.” Christine holds up the cartons in front of Shawn’s face. He smiles at her, knowing well that he has to give her some sort of attention or care in order for this relationship not to crumble.

Kiara couldn’t care less about the type of nut milk we had at home. He stops himself before he dives further into that part of his brain.

“Well if Claudia says it’s good, I don’t see why we shouldn’t try it.” Her face immediately lights up when Shawn showed the slightest interest in her rambling. She drops the carton of cashew milk into the trolley and scampers off while he trails behind her. They wander around the fresh produce, and while Christine goes on about which kind of salad she wants to make next week, Shawn hears the distinct laughter and voice.

His eyes dart around the store until they land on a specific couple and he sees her. In all her 5’7” glory, Kiara stood next to the same man that was on her Instagram post, trying to catch her breath from all the laughing the pair had been doing.

“You’re telling me, you microwaved eggs?!” She’s still laughing, shaking her head as she placed the carton of fresh eggs into the trolley in front of her.

“Hey, no shame in that! We were in college and really dumb. Besides, you’re the one that burnt the kettle to a crisp while making tea last week.”

“Well, we’re both to blame for that.” Shawn watches as Kiara gives the man one of those cheeky smiles that she used to give him. He watches as he attacked her sides, tickling and then peppering kisses down her neck as she squeals in excitement. Shawn should look away, he knows he should before he gets caught, but he can’t help himself. Before he knows it he hears Christine next to him,

“Shawn? Did you hear me? What are you- Oh for god’s sake!” The couple turns when they hear Christine raise her voice and Shawn snaps out of his trance. His eyes meet briefly with Kiara’s and her face falls just enough for Shawn to notice. Christine shoves the packet of spinach she has in her hands back on the shelf. She shoots Kiara a death stare before pushing Shawn out of the way and storming out of the grocery store. He doesn’t go after her, instead his hand tightens its grip around the handles of the trolley and he forces himself to breathe. The man with Kiara is rubbing both sides of her arms, a concerned look on his face as he mumbles something to her. She’s shaking her head, giving him a reassuring smile as they continue with their shopping, not taking another look at Shawn.

I still love you, I promise / Nothing happened in the way I wanted

Shawn abandons his cart, the Canadian in him feeling guilty about not placing the stuff back on the shelves. But his mind is running too fast that his legs couldn’t comprehend his own actions. He finds himself squatting outside the store, baseball cap pulled far down on his face. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, sitting out here in the middle of nowhere, waiting for some damned miracle to happen. Something to fix his heart.

“I’ll drive the car up here? That way we don’t have to push the cart back.” Shawn recognises the same voice and he peers up slowly.

“Sure, I’ll wait here.” Kiara.

He waits for a couple moments before he scrambles to his feet and it makes Kiara jump out of her skin.

“Pinché pendejo.” She mutters under her breath. Kiara’s about to push her trolley further away, when she recognises the white and pink Dodgers baseball cap that used to belong to her.

“Shawn?”

He feels like a deer caught in headlights, looking down at her with widened eyes. The look on her face was unreadable as she puts her hands deep into the pockets of her hoodie. He tries to drink in as much of her looks as he can - the change in the way her hair now falls just above her shoulders instead of having it in those long beach waves; how she now has the confidence to be out in public with barely any make up on. The moment of staring doesn’t last too long though, when Shawn hears a voice call out for her.

“Babe, you good?” Kiara and Shawn both seem to be shaken back to reality quickly. She’s pushing her hair out of her face and smiling softly to her boyfriend.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. Let’s load her up.”

And I know you said that we're not talking / But I miss you, I'm sorry

“Wait.” Shawn says barely above a whisper. Both of them stop in their tracks and look to him.

“Can I-can I talk to her for a second? I promise you it won’t take long.” Kiara’s boyfriend is already dropping the bags back into the cart, trying to go in front of her to give Shawn a piece of his mind.

“Ryan,” She pulls his arm toward her and he switches his attention to his girl, “I’ll talk to him. I won’t take too long.” Ryan looks at Kiara then back at Shawn and he stalks toward him, chest out, looking like he’s ready for some brawl. Kiara’s holding her breath as she watches him walk, the anxiety in her chest just become worse by the second. Ryan has his pointer finger up, voice low as he stares at Shawn in the eyes, “you hurt her again and I guarantee you, I will ruin you.”

He turns back around, kissing Kiara on the cheek before he loads the groceries into the car.

Shawn smiles awkwardly at her, “well, he seems nice.”

“I’m so sorry, he’s just protective.”

“That’s okay, I understand.” An uncomfortable silence fell between the two of them and Kiara think’s this is probably the worst idea in the entire world. To be standing out on a cold day in LA, next to her ex, with her boyfriend waiting less than 10 feet away. She’s wrapping her arms around herself, bouncing on her feet to keep herself warm. Shawn doesn’t say anything for awhile and Kiara’s growing frustrated by the second.

“Did you want to-“

“So I-“

They start at the same time, and it makes Shawn chuckle. But it makes Kiara sigh and she’s hugging herself tighter. Shawn finally sees the hint of annoyance on her face and his mind scrambles for the right words. (Though, I’m not exactly sure these are the write words, Shawn)

“How are you?” Kiara gives him a look, and she couldn’t believe her ears. After standing out in the freezing cold weather, he just wanted to ask how she was doing?!

“Get to the point, Shawn. I don’t have the time for small talk right now.” He’s fiddling with the loose thread from his sweater, trying to avoid Kiara’s intimidating brown eyes when he speaks.

“I just-I, I just miss you, Ki.” Kiara scoffs, very audibly and she takes a step back to look at him.

“Cariño,” He recognises the same sarcastic tone that her mother uses, “don’t you have a girlfriend you should be with?”

Breaking dishes when you're disappointed / I still love you, I promise

“Yeah I do, she’s standing right in front of me.”

“You did not just-“ Kiara mutters under her breath, shaking her head violently. She looks around her to ensure that there’s no one in earshot, then steps toward him and pokes his chest.

“Shawn Peter, you do not just squat out here wanting to talk to me after you argued with your current girl and then say that you want me back. You do not just walk up to me and say all those things after what you did, how you hurt me and-“

He grabs both her wrists and Kiara stops mid-sentence.

“What are you doing?” She mutters under her breath. Kiara knows that Ryan would be watching them both, and any bigger movement would send him running out of the car to punch Shawn in the face. She looks over her shoulder and she already sees the door of the Range Rover opening slowly.

“I miss you, I really do. I still love you, Ki, I still fucking love you.” He tries to lean in and Kiara finally had enough, pulling her hand out from his grip.

“Fuck Shawn, I’m happy now can’t you see? We’re over, it’s over.” Kiara turns around, her eyes meeting Ryan as he stands next to the car. She musters up a smile for him before she hears Shawn shout from behind her.

“Does he love you like I do?” She stops in her tracks and looks over at him.

“No Shawn, Ryan has done a better job in the last three months than you ever did in the three years I’ve known you.”

With that, Kiara walks away, and Shawn is left with half of his heart and the image of her back burned in his mind.

[captaincravatthecapricious]

Here’s a sickfic I might finish but I should probably just post here now in case I never do

Uhhhhhh cw nausea and vomiting mention

I’m gonna @celosiaa because you are the only reason I am posting this at all.  And maybe you can nudge me to finish this at some point.  

Jon isn’t sure where he thought he’d wake up.  Possibly at his desk?  Or in his bed?  (Unlikely).  Does he even still have a bed?  The institute floor if he was unlucky?  The break room couch or the cot if he was considerably more lucky.  The point is, he feels like shit and he didn’t remember going to sleep.  Which probably wasn’t a good sign.  He lets himself drift for a while longer.  

Jon wakes in fits and starts.  

One moment he’s mostly aware the next he’s snapping back awake thus leading him to the conclusion that he wasn’t before.  A cycle that he is stuck in for several minutes.  He is not aware enough to properly examine where he might actually be.  

He’s too dizzy to think and his eyes feel gummy and puffy, and everything hurts.  

Sick?  Is he sick?  Not statement sick, but properly sick?  

Yes that tracks.  Sore throat.  Queasy.  Headache.  

Ugh.  

He lays there for a while longer.  And promptly drops back off.  

~~~~~~~

Jon stirs in Tim’s lap.  Be blinks a  few times and groans.  Jon has been all but passed out in Tim’s lap for hours.  

He isn’t even sure why he bothered.  

Tim sighs.  He knows Jon is awake now, and he very much needs Jon to have some liquids.  And some fever reducers.  “Jon?”  He asks softly.  He doesn’t want to frighten Jon.  

Jon’s shaky breathing catches in what Tim very much fears is a sob.  What the hell is he supposed to say to a crying Jon?  “Tim?”  Jon’s response is quavering and damp.  He still hasn’t really moved.  Tim is more than a little worried that Jon doesn’t seem to have the energy to even shift position.  

“Back with me?”  Christ, Tim hopes Jon is.  

Jon spent most of the car ride to Tim’s flat crying, apologizing, gibbering about god knows what, and looking more than a little like he was going to be very ill (something Tim would have worried about if he wasn’t reasonably sure Jon had already expelled everything in him before Tim managed to half carry him out of the Archives).  (He debated A&E, but ultimately decided Jon might accidentally compel the staff and cause a lot of problems.  But if Tim couldn’t get his fever down, or get him to keep down liquids, then he’d take him in.)  Tim tried to find it irritating, but honestly it had just made his heart hurt.  

Jon just whimpers.  

Tim gently cards his fingers through Jon’s hair.  Jon shivers a little.  This flu has been going around the Archives but even though Jon has been the last to catch it, he seems to have it the worst.  Tim doesn’t think he was ever this far gone.  (Martin would probably be the one here if he wasn’t still sleeping off the last of his fight with this.)

Jon blinks a few more times, swallows drily, and asks, “Tim….?  Wha’ you doing?  Thought you were out today?”

“First day back.  Found you passed out in the loo.”  Tim hasn’t decided if he wants to be nice.  (A bit late to not be, considering he drove Jon to his (Tim’s) flat and is letting Jon cuddle him even though Jon is kind of disgusting at this point and is going to share the leftovers of the soup and medicine and lucozade he stocked up on the moment he knew he was coming down with something.)

Jon squirms a bit so he’s looking up at Tim.  His face going from confusion, to embarrassment, to dawning realization when he (presumably) he notices he’s partially in Tim’s lap.  “You hate me.”  It’s a question, but not a question of if Tim hates him.  

Jon’s slurring.  Which can’t possibly be good.  Tim takes in his puzzled look and takes that to mean ‘Hey Tim, I’m too much of an arsehole to thank you for letting me use you as a well toned body pillow let’s jump right into the boo hoo I’m a victim of the universe and I’ll take everyone down with me and I know this so why could someone I’ve so terribly wronged be being nice to me.’  No.  That’s not right.  And that’s not fair.  Tim does want to blame Jon for everything.  But that would make him a hypocrite.  Sure Tim didn’t stalk his coworkers after the Prentiss thing, but where Jon got paranoid, he got angry.  They both pushed each other away.  Not to mention…. he did accuse Jon of murder…. which is what he was angry at Jon for accusing him of…. It is Jon’s fault that he is stuck in the archives, but Jon’s just as stuck as he is.  And it’s not Jon’s fault that Sasha...  He’s not a heartless dick, he couldn’t just leave Jon to possibly drown himself in the toilet.  

“Debatable.”  Tim can’t really explain it any better than that for now.  He blames Jon, yeah.  Sure.  Easy.  Of course he blames Jon.  …But he knows it isn’t Jon’s fault, and as much as he wants to forget that.  He can’t.  And he can’t forget the years of friendship before all this.  Maybe they weren’t as close as he presumes he and Sasha were… but they were close.  

Jon looks even more confused.  And then he looks rather nauseous.  He closes his eyes again.  

“I need you to drink something before you pass out again.”  He should probably try to be nicer, because Jon flinches at his tone, and tries to make himself even smaller.  

This isn’t news.  Jon has flinched because of Tim a lot.  He knows he shouldn’t be proud of this, but he is.  

“And don’t puke on my couch.”

Jon just whines.  

Tim gets impatient and mostly carefully leavers Jon up enough that he can press a  Lucozade into his hands.  

Jon’s eyes flick open slowly.  He blinks a few times as he tries to comprehend what he’s holding.  

“You’re supposed to drink that,” Tim says helpfully.  

“Thought you wanted me not to puke.”

Tim is reasonable sure that was supposed to be a joke, but Jon’s eyes squeeze tight against dizziness, so Tim nudges the bin he preset nearer.  

“Drink the goddamn thing or I’ll have to take you to A&E and I’ll really be fucking pissed.”  There isn’t any real heat to Tim’s words.  But that doesn’t stop Jon for fumbling with the lid.  

Christ he looks so pathetic.  His hands are shaking almost too badly to get it to his mouth and he would not be vertical if Tim let go.  And sad.  Was he just stuck with those damn puppy dog eyes?  

But could Tim really blame him?  Enough people have kicked the shit out of Jon that he really can’t blame Jon for looking like a kicked puppy.  

Jon drinks cautiously.  He looks mildly surprised when nothing bad happens.  

Tim props him up against the back of the couch so he can pass Jon some more fever reducers.  Jon carefully takes those as well.  He shakily closes the still half full sports drink and closes his eyes again.  He’s listing sideways.   

It’s dark out when Jon wakes up again. He can’t quite recall what time of day it was when he was last conscious.  He thinks he might be slightly more aware.  Possibly.  

He’s still shivering and he still feels like death.  Grand.  

Something shifts under him and he starts.  

Oh.  Right.  Tim.  

“Jon, you awake?”

Since when does Tim talk to him like a person?  Like he hadn’t fucked up that badly.  

“Jon?”

Right.  Yes.  He’s supposed to answer.  He swallows.  His throat feels like sandpaper.  “Ngk.”  Well.  Not quite a word, but close enough, right?  It is enough to start him coughing in any case.

“Jesus Christ, Jon!”

Jon is hoisted into a sitting position fast enough to make his head swim.  He closes his eyes tightly to try to stop the room from spinning, but he’s still coughing and now he’s queasy again.  

By the time he catches his breath, tears are streaming down his face and he can feel someone (Tim) rubbing his back.  It feels…. Jon isn’t sure how it feels, but a lot and it makes his skin prickle not unpleasantly.  

“Jesus Fuck Jon.”

Jon doesn’t have the air to answer.  He feels himself sway.  He is lowered back down and a straw pushed into his mouth.  He cracks one eye open and sees a very blurry Tim (shit where have his glasses gone?) holding the same sports drink, this time with an addition of a .... is that a margarita straw?   The Eye helpfully informs him that it is.  Jon takes some careful sips until his throat feels a little less awful.  

He can see Tim’s mouth moving.   He hears his voice but he’s a little too far gone to make out words.   

Tim has been keeping up what he hopes is comforting, soothing one sided conversation.  He hopes.  He hopes it might help Jon, but Jon seems pretty far from aware right right now.  

“You’d probably rather have water or tea right now but I’m not Martin, and well... I think you need the salt and sugar...”

Jon only manages a few sips before the straw drops from his mouth.   

“Come on, Jon.  There’s no way you aren’t dehydrated.  I don’t want to take you to A&E.  You don’t want to go to A&E.  You really don’t want me to take you to A&E.”

“Sorry...”. Christ his voice is weak.  

“Stop apologizing.  You have done that to death today.  Maybe try again when you’re conscious.  Maybe I’ll even accept it.”

“Sorry.”

Tim sighs.  Obviously that’s not going to get through to Jon right now.  “Come on.  You’ve got to drink more.  You lost a fuck ton of liquids.  I know you did.  You haven’t even begun to make up for that.”

Jon whines.  Tim checks once again that there’s a bin within easy reach.  He still presses the straw to Jon’s mouth.  

Jon drinks.  

It takes a painfully long time, but he keeps it down.  Tim waits a wile to make sure that continues to be the case before he nudges Jon.  “You up for some soup?”  

Jon considers for a very long moment.  He’s having trouble concentrating on the question and honestly he’s hoping Tim will come up with an answer for him.  

“Jon?”  

“Maybe?”  It’s hardly a whisper.  

“Let’s try sitting you up first, okay?”

[wakatoshine]

OF ROYALTY, POINTE SHOES, AND COUNTRY BOYS (kita x reader)

14: interhigh qualifiers: finals edition!

make sure to pay attention to when the texts stop and the written portions begin!

read more on this one since it’s a bit longer

i didn’t hold back on this one pls like it!!!

“hey shin,” your hushed voice rang through the line, “sorry for trying to call you this morning.”

you paused, who knew leaving a simple voicemail would be so difficult.

“um, i know you’re probably sleeping right now but i kinda need to say a few things that i didnt want to say over text,”

you paused, pressing your phone closer to your face as you search for your aoba johsai tracksuit among the discarded articles of clothing on the floor.

“i’m really scared for today, i hid it from the team since i know they’re really stressed out about it too. t’s not like i could say anything anyway, haji would get upset that i’m upset, god knows what tooru is going through right now, and talking it out with makki and mattsun would probably be awkward,”

you sighed

“but i’m really comfortable saying this to you even if it’s a recorded message,”

another heavy pause

“it’s just really hard never winning. we have such a good team, always have had one. but it’s just never enough. we’ve came second in every tournament and i’m just so tired” your voice hitched a bit at the last part.

“it’s always the same cycle, practice and improve, and then fall back down. i’m just tired of comforting everyone when we do obviously deserve to win,” you say, “not saying shiratorizawa doesn’t deserve it because they work hard too,” you added.

you look up at the clock over your door and slip your gym shoes on.

“anyway, sorry about dropping this on you. i just wanted to talk to someone who’d listen,” you stated with a small smile, “bye shin.”

your thumb pressed the end call button and you stepped out on the porch as close to ready as you’d ever be.

kita picked up on the second ring.

“hey,” you whispered and his heart almost broke right then.

to be quite honest, you looked like shit. you had oikawa’s track jacket on (he could tell since you were practically drowning in it), your eyes were swollen and red from crying, and your cheeks were crusted from the tears that weren’t still falling.

kita still thought you were beautiful, but he was more concerned about your well-being than his own surface attraction to you.

“talk to me,” was all he could get out.

“shin it hurts so much,” you said, shoulders shaking as you sobbed, “i just keep thinking about what i could’ve done better. i could’ve encouraged them more, taken better stats, helped make better-“

“hey stop that,” kita interrupted, his eyebrows furrowing in thought as you looked at him with big doe eyes.

“remember what i said about my team motto?” he asked.

you nodded with an added sniffle.

“i said that ya need to leave yer losses behind. don’t forget them, but use them to move on and learn how to be better.” he said.

you were silent, so kita continued.

“ya can keep blamin yerself and asking what if, but yer not gonna get anythin outta it,”

you nodded and tried your best to smile, “thanks shin. i think that’s the best thing you could have told me.”

kita hummed in response and the two of you sat in comfortable silence for a bit.

after a few minutes you closed your eyes with a sigh. kita took the moment to study your face. he studied the way your lips were slightly parted, the way way your hair framed your face, and the way your lashes fluttered before your eyes opened back up and gazed into his own chocolate ones.

“hey shin?” you asked and this time kita’s heart began to race and heat rose to his cheeks (much to his dislike). he quite liked when you used his nickname.

“hmm?”

“can you tell me a story?” you asked.

“yeah,” he answered, anything for you he thought.

kita looked around before standing (with his phone of course so you could come along) and walking out of his room into the dimly lit hallway.

“gran?” he called.

your face flushed. kita shinsuke was too sweet for even your aching heart.

“yes shin chan?” a sweet voice that was completely foreign to you echoed through the kita residence.

“do ya still have those stories ya used to read me when i was a kid?” you heard him ask.

“yes hun, i’ll take some of ‘em to yer room okay? go back to talkin to that pretty lady friend of yers.” his granny responded, causing you to flush immediately.

you were pleasantly surprised to see that kita had turned red as well.

“i’m sorry she called ya that y/n,” kita apologized, “i told her about ya earlier and she is so eager to get to know ya,”

you giggled “there’s no need to apologize, i know i’m quite beautiful,”

“you are,” kita swallowed, “i think yer very beautiful,”

“you really think so?” you asked.

at that moment the distance between the two of you was too much. kita wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and hold you until day break.

but he had to settle for this instead.

“yeah i think yer beautiful, y/n. i wouldn’t lie to ya,” he said in complete honesty.

you blushed and turned away from the phone, causing kita to laugh at you.

“don’t ya get shy on me now, i still have to tell ya a story,” kita said.

kita’s granny opened the door to kitas room a moment later and handed him an old copy of the little red riding rood.

you had waved at her before she left. she had smiled at you, saying that you were much prettier than kita had described.

you have never seen kita more flustered than in that moment.

twenty minutes passed and you were completely entranced by the way kita read to you. of course you’ve heard the story before, many times in fact, but the way kita read made you want to reach out and grasp every single word he let out.

you were sad when he concluded with a “the end” and gently closed the book shut.

kita grabbed his phone from where it was propped up on his night stand and moved it closer to his face so he could see you clearly.

he was happy to see that you had stopped crying awhile ago.

you were in a very cute position. you were curled up with your knees to your chest and your face was nuzzled up into the pillow with your eyes closed.

(unbeknownst to him, you had been imagining you were cuddled up against his chest instead.)

“are ya still there sleepyhead?” kita teased.

“i’m here shin,” you replied groggily.

“just makin sure,” kita said.

then something happened. kita had the best idea to ever come up in his head to date.

“hey y/n, remember when ya came over here and were our manager for a week?” he asked.

you scoffed, “of course i do shin! who do you take me for?”

kita smiled at your cheeky response. he momentarily forgot how to talk and he felt himself heat up as you looked at him curiously.

“well what if ya were our actin manager durin nationals? coach loved ya and so did the rest of the team, akagi would be happy, and i’d be able to see-“

you laughed, “okay shin you can stop rambling now,”

he looked at you with wide brown eyes.

“of course i’ll do it. i would never pass up a chance to see you,” you said, pink dusting your cheeks as you looked away from the camera.

kita’s heart has never been more full than it was in that moment.

alright that’s it for this one. i hope the written portion was fine! things will be happening faster from here on out since we are over halfway through the fic (maybe). im still not sure where i want to end this, so it could be 5 more chapters or it could be 20. you never know.

next.

[missinghan]

time lapse ⤖ seo changbin

❖ genre : idiots to lovers! au; long-distance relationship! au; fluff; a teeny tiny bit of angst

❖ word count : 14,9k.

❖ warning : explicit language, suggestive remarks & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : you used to see Changbin as a friend until you realized that you both don’t look at each other the way best friends are supposed to. 

one.

Apparently, people like you and Changbin don’t look forward to spring breaks, ever, because you simply cannot see the point in getting pumped for the very few days of sleeping in only to dread every last moment of it. Hence, he keeps FaceTiming you every day and night with such ridiculous reasons it actually boosts your ego into thinking that he misses you. 

Oh, boy were you wrong.

But this time around, he seems so flustered and burnt up all of a sudden it makes a smirk creep its way up to your lips. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state, you’re more than satisfied like a sadistic predator. You can really use some tea right now, it’s been a little boring without any dramas other than Hyunjin being dramatic over how his hair does not look good in any way, shape or form. That alone is enough for you to throw him off a cliff because since when does Hwang Hyunjin not look good?

Changbin asks. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes, I have. You’ve been asking the same question for five minutes straight.” You roll your eyes at him in the bitchiest way possible. 

He questions subconsciously, only to have you narrow your eyes at him. “You have work tomorrow, right?”

“Bin, you have my schedule. Of course, I have work tomorrow.” You utter in disbelief. 

“Can’t I just make up excuses to call my favorite girl?”

You make a gagging noise. “Cut the bullshit. Spill or I’m gonna whip out the big gun.” 

“And what is that?” He drawls the question in boredom. 

You grin at him coyly. “I’m gonna tell Chan to poison you with cilantro.” If Changbin had to choose between eating cilantro and jumping into a tank full of sharks, he’d definitely, without a second thought, sleep with those horrifying fishes with ridiculously deadly teeth. He hates cilantro with an ignited passion, and he’s entitled to that decision for the rest of his life. He’s sworn that he would never eat cilantro as long as he lives. 

“Fine,” Changbin huffs in defeat as he holds his phone up while lying on his bed. “I need your help.”

You twirl the end of your hair dreamily and acknowledge his request. “I like the sound of that, go on.” 

He shoots you a dirty look, proceeding to continue. “How do I get a girl to notice my feelings for her?” 

His words strike through your eardrums like a lightning bolt. You don’t know whether you should be crying or laughing because 1) Changbin was never the kind of guy to be interested in having a girlfriend, he has always kept his hands to himself since forever although girls were more than ready to throw themselves at him anytime, anywhere; 2) How come he has never talked to you about this? You feel utterly betrayed because the key to having a long-distance relationship is to not hide anything from each other. And he’s doing the exact opposite of that; 3) You don’t feel as happy for him as you’re supposed to and now you feel like a horrible friend. 

“Oh-my-god.” You gasp scandalously. “I’ve been waiting for this day to come my entire life! And it’s happening right in front of my eyes! It’s actually happening! Wait… did you already pop your cherries or…” When Changbin looks like he’s about to put your head on a stick, you quickly realize that you should have just focused on the topic. 

He fakes a smile. “And what day is that?” 

“The day that my best friend asks for relationship advice from me! To finally embrace the most amazing thing to happen in life, called ‘love’! Duh.” You prop your head onto your hand, blowing a few strands of hair out of your face. “So, who is she?” 

“I don’t know if you can really help me Y/N but she’s like 5,000 miles away from me right now—“

“What did you just say?” You cut him off unintentionally. “Is she an exchange student?”

“Yeah? You can say so..” He trails off and scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly. “We met on Tinder and got to see each other later at a uni conference, and she’s really—“

You cut him off again, this time, it’s intentional. “Run, just run away.”

“Why?” He looks at you weirdly. “You’re not making any sense right now.”

You chuckle creepily, making him shudder. He’s never seen you laughing in such a dark tone it makes him wonder if you’ve been possessed or not. “Running away is actually a smart move, my friend. Just get yourself out of the war before there’s blood on those precious fingers of yours. Exchange students get all the attention. Guys or girls, doesn’t matter. Students are gonna be attracted to them like a bunch of moths to a tiny spark of flame.”

“But, but—“

You stop him before he can even say something stupid. “No but. And a long-distance relationship too? Not ideal. You can’t just slide into her DMs and ask her to be with you when you’ve only met twice. Unless her feelings aren’t necessarily not mutual. But yeah, I doubt that.” 

“Whatever, I might as well just gonna fly home and watch some shitty movies with you instead.” Changbin purses his lips in boredom and runs a hand through his hair. “Do you wanna watch that zombie movie still? Zombieland right?” 

You nod eagerly because gosh, after months and months, he still remembers. It’s one of those little moments which perfectly showcases how much Changbin cares about you. Because unlike some people, he actually pays attention to what you’re saying. And you would be lying if you said that those little actions of his never made your heart tingle. They do, and it sucks. 

“Damn right, I’m pumped for the sequel, never really got the chance to watch it since college has been nothing but a bitch to me.” 

“You’re so fucking spoiled, Beastie.” He snickers, biting back a smile. But deep down, you can clearly see right through his facade and feel the slight disappointment in his brown eyes. Exchange student or not, if it’s what makes him happy, then you fully support his decision. And if that girl ever tries to pull a dirty move on him? You’ll hunt her down and sell her off to some random mafia organization. 

You laugh wholeheartedly, trying to lighten up the mood. “Listen, if you kept scrolling through Tinder, having a girlfriend wouldn’t be a problem. Because I’m pretty sure there’s not gonna be a single person who’d not swipe right.” 

Changbin cocks a brow. “Why not?”

“Because you’re hot as shit!”

He groans loudly at your bold statement, cheeks tinted pink in embarrassment. “Shut up, mom.” 

You smile cheekily at him. “Love you too, honey boo.”

two.

As much as you clown Changbin for using Tinder since the day he asked you for dating advice, you can’t help but think that you’re a little bit lonely without his company. Funny enough, you also found yourself scrolling through the infamous app for hours and hours until there’s a match. 

The only thing that’s funnier than Changbin asking dating advice from a total fetus than you is you talking big games to him when you haven’t even got laid, not even once. So obviously, you’re so close to pissing your pants as you dread the drive to your date, tremendously. 

“Since when did you even start using dating apps?” Yeji scrunches her nose in disapproval as she starts the engine. You both just finished watching ‘Dolittle’ since Robert Downey Jr. is an icon and you’re not planning on missing out on any of his movies. But that’s not the point because the point is, your roommate knows your impulsive ass too well. Meaning, she’s not letting your day end without giving you something to feel better about it. More straight forward-ly, she’s trying to lighten up your mood before your date can piss you off. 

You singsong, trying to wiggle yourself out of the situation. “Since Seo Changbin asked me about a girl.” You know Yeji just as well as how she knows you, so you’re taking advantage of her carelessness to bring up a whole new topic before she can lure you into ‘the talk’. 

Yeah, ‘the talk’, sounds scary enough if you’re thinking about that one awkward, intimate conversation with parents about how babies are made. You think it’s utterly useless since society is basically corrupted and kids these days are all over the place, watching porns left and right with their parents’ IDs. So having ‘the talk’ with Yeji is definitely not gonna be full of questionable statements in replacement for making love. 

As far as you know, she only forces someone into ‘the talk’ with her when they suddenly have some kind of romantic interest in another human being. Upon hearing that, she’s gonna be out and about, playing the role of God and telling people all of the do-s and don’t-s along with a detailed description of how she’s gonna drag that person to the very bottom of hell if they end up breaking their heart. You’re sure as hell that you’re not ready to talk about it with her. In other words, you’re not ready for her to torment you about some boy that you haven’t even met. 

“Seo Changbin, dating someone?” Yeji fakes a gasp. “Wow, tell me all about it.” 

You roll your eyes at her. “So you knew?” 

You don’t know why you’re even surprised anymore since Changbin tells Hyunjin everything who’d spill everything to Ryujin for their midnight gossip session who’d complain about it to Yeji later on. The cycle is fully completed before you even know it and that does not make you feel any less of a dumbass. 

“Duh,” She purses her lips before making a turn at the second intersection. “Listen, just enjoy your date, I’m not gonna tease you about it until you tell me how much of an asshole that guy is.” 

You sigh in relief, drowning into your seat like a jellyfish. “Thank God.”

“But,” Your roommate drawls the word for a painfully long time. “Can we just talk about how it’s such a shame? You and Changbin would make an extremely adorable couple, right? I kid you not.”

You choke on your own saliva, coughing furiously as your hand desperately tries to roll down the window for some fresh air, mainly for the heat that’s slowly creeping up on the apples of your cheeks. “Who would ship me and my best friend together? That sounds like every drama to ever exist. Ew.” Hissing at her like a snake, you repeatedly fan your face with the hope to rid off the annoying coral tint. 

Yeji narrows her eyes at you and quickly diverts her attention back on the road because no one is getting pulled over on a gorgeous Saturday night, at least not her. She still has to finish the last episodes of the drama she’s been fangirling over. “So you’re telling me that you’re not jealous when Changbin told you about other girls? You’re totally, absolutely, entirely okay with him hanging out with some random chick in Italy?” 

It makes your blood boil even more when she mentions the fact that yes, Changbin is having fun with someone who’s probably ten thousand times hotter than you in Europe, but you’re more pissed off at the fact that she’s always right. Of course, you’re fucking jealous, why wouldn’t you? You can’t even fathom the sheer fury that’s running through your veins. Your heart is pumping pure exasperation into your brain. Even your liver can’t filter such anger. You hate the idea of Changbin wrapping his arms around someone other than you so much you’d rather choke yourself to death than even glance at such sight. 

But, for the sake of a completely normal conversation, your mouth says otherwise. “Why not? He’s not my property, I don’t get to decide who he falls in love with. Moreover, he deserves someone he truly adores. That’s not my business for all I know.” 

“Liar,” Yeji smirks. “Enjoy your date all you want, Y/N. Try not to think about Changbin too much or your date’s gonna flip.”

Again, you can’t stress enough how annoying Hwang Yeji is because somehow, in which you still don’t know how, she can read your mind in a snap of a finger. So it’s no surprise for her to know that you’ve actually thought about dating your own best friend before. It sounds so cliché you might bury yourself alive if you accidentally slip one day and confess your stupid feelings for him. As if on cue, your sixth sense is currently tingling, trying to tell you that you will definitely make a fool of yourself as you try to elaborate on how you feel about Changbin. 

“What did I do to deserve you?” You sneer sarcastically at her as she parks her white Rover right in front of the restaurant. 

The moment you step out of her car, Yeji tosses you a look. “Don’t you dare trip on me Lee freaking Y/N, don’t even try it.”

“I’ll have Minho pick me up, now skittle outta here.” You grimace before shutting the door close. Turning on your heels, you inhale sharply and push the glass door open to enter what seems like literal hell on Earth for the next four hours or so. 

three.

Being on an actual date reminds you of why you never even use dating apps in the first place. 

The only part that prevents you from running away is that Yeji has his dating profile. She knows his number, his occupation, his face, and all that jazz because meeting strangers for the very first time and already eating out with them gives you every right to be paranoid. But you’re not gonna tell him that because you still respect him just fine. And in case he’s acting all sketch, you’re gonna make sure that he’s not going home in one piece. 

Okay, you can’t just blame Jaemin because he’s not an asshole. He really isn’t. He’s a nice guy in general: respectful, confident, and outgoing with a good sense of humor. Respectful? Checked. Confident? Checked. Good sense of humor? Checked. Outgoing? That’s the dealbreaker right there. You don’t hate him for it, it’s just he’s too outgoing for an introverted potato like you. 

Both Jaemin and Changbin have very strong personalities like every Leo should. You’re most definitely not an astrology nerd but you’re educated enough to know that Leos are dramatic, warm-hearted, passionate and impulsive. 

In which, Changbin makes you laugh your ass off until you can’t even breathe whenever he’s whining about you waking him up at 9 a.m. But you gave Jaemin nothing but a scrunch of your nose when he yelped out loud as his mashed potato was too hot. And you kindly offered to finish it for him after knowing that he can’t have dairy products. Changbin’s managed to get you out of the house every weekend even when it’s a simple trip to the mall and whereas, Jaemin makes you feel more of a voiceless being when he continuously brings up one topic after another at the literal speed of light. You almost miss how you can just throw out the most random sentence without being afraid of someone judging you. 

Clearly, Jaemin isn’t the one to blame here. 

Admittedly, it’s just a ‘you’ problem. 

And even more admittedly, it’s just because Na Jaemin is being himself, and will always be himself. He’s never gonna be, and will never be Seo Changbin. 

Seriously, what’s up with Changbin taking over your mind today?

“Do you perhaps wanna watch a movie after dinner— you’re not listening to me, aren’t you?” Jaemin stops mid-sentence when he catches your dreamy expression, for the fifth time that night. 

You quickly regain your composure and sigh in defeat. “Fine, you got me. Again.” Burying your face into your palms, you’re practically choking on your own frustration because you don’t wanna lash out on him just because he’s not your type. “Ugh, I’m sorry, okay? I’ve never been on a date with a stranger before. Who’d have thought talking on texts was so much easier?” 

Jaemin props his head on his hand and makes eye contact with you. He breaks it after a good five seconds to catch you off guard, slowly processing his current thoughts like a lawyer in court. “Let me guess, you’re in a long-distance relationship with someone but since they’ve been away for quite some time, you got bored. So that leads to you, drum rolls, hopping on Tinder to find a one night stand.” He closes in proudly, a triumphant smirk painted on his slightly chapped lips. 

For the first time after hours of dreading Minho to come and pick you up as soon as possible, you can finally let go and have a good laugh. It’s like the pressure of being on a date is gladly lifted off your shoulders and you feel like you’re just catching up with an old friend. Which is weird because Changbin— Would it kill to stop thinking about Changbin for once in your life you dumbhead?

“And how did you know that?” You smile at Jaemin, deciding to focus on him for the rest of the night so that he doesn’t think you’re disrespecting him. A date is still a date. Even when the feelings aren’t mutual, the amount of respect should be.

He slowly takes a sip of his water and chews on his steak after. “Not to be creepy but when you went to use the restroom, a notification showed up and I saw your lock screen. He looks like one of those hot SoundCloud rappers who manages to stay anonymous under their stage name even when they’re mad famous. You know, cool people making dope music without being too problematic like ‘real’ celebrities.” Jaemin says it with such admiration you’re nearly more than ready to rant about how talented of a music prodigy your best friend is. But for the sake of him being your best friend, you’re not gonna do that. Yet. 

“We’re not dating, just childhood best friends.” 

He wiggles his eyebrows at you with mischief laced in his brown eyes. “You have a thing for him then. Aha! I knew it! All best friends are obligated to be together, it’s an unwritten norm of the universe.” Wow, just when you thought that no one would know about your feelings for Changbin other than your annoying, chaotic friend group. 

“In my defense, he was the one who set that photo as my lock screen.” You grunt under your breath but don’t even try to hide it. “I shouldn’t have swiped right.”

“Be grateful that you did.” Jaemin inhales the last bits of his dish with satisfaction, dabbing the sauce on his lips away with a napkin. “Because not only am I paying for the meal, I’d love to meet up again to hear you ramble about the boy on your phone. As friends. Also because you totally saved my lactose intolerant ass back there.” He declares loud and clear, smiling from ear to ear. 

You roll your eyes at him in slight annoyance. “Fine, but I’m paying for the movie tickets.”

Jaemin extends his fist. “Frozen 2? I know a place that’s having it tonight.”

“You got it, broski.” You chuckle and bump your fist with his while your heart is yelling at you to get the fuck out of this restaurant because you’re about to suffocate yourself with the amount of painstakingly awkward silence that this place possesses. 

Before you even know it, you’re walking out of the Hilton Hotel with an empty bucket of popcorn in your arms as Jaemin hogs two cups of Coke which are left with nothing but ice cubes right beside you. It’s like the whole being too cautious thing that’s been driving you insane has disintegrated into literal dust. Watching a movie with Jaemin feels like you’re babysitting your non-existent little brother while your parents are out of town and Minho is bar-hopping with the guys. Except for the fact that he gave you his hoodie because the cinema’s ACs are ridiculously cold as always. But it’s really nice, actually, because although the date didn’t turn out how you expected it to be, you did make a new friend. 

That rarely happens so you’re definitely giving yourself a pat on the shoulder. 

“The plot was kinda messy, don’t you think?” You ask him after tossing the bucket into a nearby trash can. 

Jaemin nods in acknowledgment and swings an arm around your shoulder. “It was all over the place, I’m with you all the way. And Elsa in that purple dress too? Yikes.”

You laugh with him, continuing the conversation with much less ‘watch what you’re saying’ and more ‘actually enjoy the date for the sake of it’ until you both reach the parking lot. “Drive safe and text me when you’re home, okay?” You remind him like the bossy person that you are as you pull out your phone from your purse. 

“You’re not my mom.” Jaemin snickers and his fingers hover above the tips of his keys inside his pocket. “Wait, your brother’s picking you up right?”

[9:35 p.m.]

y/n | hey, pick me up already. 

meanhoe | sorry sis, I’m a bit occupied over here. 

meanhoe | just call a ride home or smth.

[9:36 p.m.]

y/n | LEE MINHO ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

y/n | do you have the slightest idea about how many serial killers are lurking the streets, waiting for girls like me to fall right into their traps?

meanhoe | paranoid.

[9:37 p.m.]

meanhoe | let me tell you about how Han Jisung is taking a nap on my lap rn.

meanhoe | in graphic details.

[9:38 p.m.]

y/n | or I can just tell you about that time when mom and dad found you right next to a trash can on a sidewalk instead? 

y/n | it’s a very lovely story, trust me.

[9:39 p.m.]

meanhoe | ugh, what do you want?

y/n | nothing, Jaemin will drive me home.

y/n | goodnight.

[ 9:40p.m. ]

meanhoe | hey! I can make it up to you still!

y/n | I SAID GOODNIGHT.

You toss your phone back into your purse in pure disappointment. And with a prolonged sigh, you turn to Jaemin. “He abandoned me. Can you give me a ride home?”

He cackles at the scowl on your face and gestures you towards the seat next to the shotgun window. “Hop in.”

four.

“Wow,” Minho utters. “Just wow.” 

“It’s you again, why am I still surprised at this point?” 

He grins coyly and slips the keys into his pocket before running a hand through his bed head. Chuckling creepily, he watches as Changbin struggles to roll both of his suitcases across the bumpy surface of your front porch. “You left my sister crying with a bucket of ice-cream for Italy. How does that feel? You know, to finally be free from her ?” Minho inquires with an amused smile. “But on a serious note, she missed you, very much so. Did you even tell her about this?

“Minho, it’s supposed to be a surprise. Do I have to translate ‘surprise’ into whatever the fuck of a language that all snakes speak in general or you’re fully capable of doing that yourself? Also, it would be so incredibly kind and generous of you to actually comprehend my messages.” 

Minho chuckles and leans back against the wall comfortably. “Why not move back here then? Aren’t you done with your degree already? Or did Italy blind you with their good food and hot girls? You’re quite qualified to be my roommate.” He drags the last part. “Just wish you didn’t have to give me that attitude whenever I’m trying to start a civil conversation.” 

Changbin scoffs at him, clearly uninterested. And Minho’s definition of a civil conversation just concerns him even more. “I have enough qualities to be your roommate? Let me guess, smart ?” 

“Secretly a nerd.” Minho tuts. 

Changbin shoots him a dirty look. “Composed?”

“I’d say indifferent and stubborn.” 

“Brave enough to kill some stupid bugs for you?” 

Minho rolls his eyes. “More like painstakingly reckless.”

“You literally fell off the couch when Jeongin accidentally popped a balloon with his pen.” 

A smirk blooms on his lips. “But you gave him an entire lecture about why he shouldn’t bring pens to a party. Inspiring leadership.”

“Looks good in black?”

Minho looks unimpressed. “Everyone looks good in black you moron.”

“Then why the fuck are you trying to pull me into your system?!” Changbin throws his hands upwards, a frustrated groan escapes his lips. “You know I hate commitments. They give me anxiety. Especially when it involves you.” Which is not entirely correct because he did have a date last week or should have had a date last week. He was so close to pissing himself in the middle of a Michelin rated restaurant. But lucky him, his date flaked out on him before he could start having a full-on mental breakdown inside the restroom. 

A glint of curiosity ignites in Minho’s orbs. “Because you absolutely have no life whatsoever.” He starts calmly, going back and forth within the limited space of the hallway. “And don’t even get me started about your love life. It’s drier than Chan’s attempt at making macarons. Oh and remind me, did your goldfish die or did you kill him? Did he die or was he killed? Or was it both?” He taunts further, and further, and further until he’s hanging on that weird borderline between having Changbin lunge at him like a predator and succeeding at luring him back to Seoul. “I’m being as kind as my mind can possibly allow without a drop of caffeine so you better take it while you’re at it.”

Changbin is fuming with nothing but pure anger. He’s so fucking close to crush every single strand of liveliness left inside of the man in front of him until he turns white like a complete ghost. But he’s also convinced that Lee Minho is just a non-biological heir of the Angel of Death. Hence, getting rid of him is impossible. “Come over here and make me.” Crossed arms, he’s determined to not leave the city without at least throwing a punch at Minho’s ridiculously perfect face. 

“What are you? Four?”

Changbin stops himself from throwing hands at him and turns on his heels. “Nothing, it’s just that I don’t really like you all that much.” He makes his way to the kitchen, tossing his black beanie onto the counter. 

“Yeah, me neither.”

He protests triumphantly. “See?”

“Listen up you man child,” Minho grits and walks behind him through the living room, passing by a hungover Jisung with Woojin on top of him at an unusually persistent pace that seems to cover up the bubbling anger inside his stomach. “Would you stop what you’re doing and listen to me when I’m trying to prove my own point? I’ve known you for all my life—“

Changbin interrupts him. “Those times when you passed by me at the library and made fun of me for studying for finals in high school? Doesn’t count.”

Minho hides behind a rather cheerful voice, his stare colder than an ex-wife’s fighting for custody over her child in court. “That doesn’t matter! Y/N went out with some guy last night and even let him drive her home. I don’t even know if she’s okay or not since she wouldn’t pick up for the past hour. And I just can’t let those two idiots at home alone, completely unaware of their surroundings.” Changbin shoots him a weird look and he quickly brushes it off with a click of his tongue. “Don’t ask.” 

Changbin chokes on the can of Coke that he just grabbed from the fridge. “Wait, so she’s not here?”

“She moved in with Yeji months ago in an apartment near college, didn’t she tell you ?”

“No?” He raises a brow. “And what date? Who? How? Where? When?” 

Changbin’s starting to panic a little bit because if you were to be on a date, you’d most likely hide in the restroom just to text him for a good five minutes. Very much like him. Anyway, he’s also quite concerned about the fact that you didn’t reply to Minho’s texts all morning. Maybe he’s overthinking again but he knows that you’ve forced yourself to be a morning person even when it’s the holiday since you don’t wanna dread bringing back your old habits when a new semester hits. 

Minho drums his fingers against the dining table. “Who? Some boy called Jaemin? How? Tinder. Where? The Hilton Hotel. When? Last night until almost 10 I believe.”

Now Changbin’s fully entered panic mode because since when did you even use Tinder? And not tell him about it too? What if you’re already kidnapped and sold to some creepy people from China to make profits off your organs? “That’s it. Give me her address, I’ll go.” He drops his backpack onto the floor and grabs his coat, downing the last few drops of his beverage in a rush. As soon as Minho texts him your address, Changbin dashes straight through the front door like a tornado to the point that it has Woojin facepalming himself on Minho’s dad’s old carpet. 

“My job here is done.” Minho cracks his knuckle and takes a seat at his family’s dining table, picking up his phone only to receive a text from you. 

[8:23 a.m.]

y/n | ugh, is your friend gonna come over to pick up the speaker or what? it’s been fifteen minutes.

y/n | and what’s his name again? Jackson?

meanhoe | yeah, he’ll be there in ten.

meanhoe | eat a chill pill sis, I’m in charge.

five.

You frown furiously at the series of messages that you and your brother have been sending each other for the past ten minutes. Something smells fishy, and you can already see that stupid, self-indulging smirk spread across his face without him being right next to you. But then again, no one really knows what’s going on inside that disturbing glimpse of thing called ‘a brain’ inside his head because magically, and spontaneously, everything works out whenever he’s in charge. 

Except when he’s in the kitchen with Jisung and Hyunjin as his cannot-be-anymore-useless vice-cooks, aka when they’re holding onto each other for dear life the moment Minho cracks an egg onto a heated pan with oil boiling along the edges. 

“Ugh, Yeji! It’s supposed to be your turn to do laundry, you ass.” You repeatedly hit your roommate’s sleeping figure with a pillow, slightly mad at the fact that she’s still in bed when you’re done with grocery shopping. Sometimes you wonder if her only talent is sleeping through earthquakes. Maybe that’s how she has mad stamina and can still do a decent thirty minutes of cardio after dance practice. 

Yeji mumbles nonsense into her pillow and slaps your hand away only to bury herself under the wool blanket again. It takes every strand of energy left inside of you to pull the soft fabric over her head and onto the floor it goes. “Why are you making such a fuss out of me forgetting to do laundry ?” She sits up grudgingly like a zombie digging itself up from its own grave and yawns obnoxiously. 

You blink numerous times at her in disbelief. “Uhm, hello? Because I don’t have anything to wear? And also, FYI, it’s almost ten, okay? Wake up Sleeping Beauty. Prince Charming isn’t available today.” 

“Shut the fuck up!” She whines loudly before dropping onto her backside in defeat. “You’ve never binge-watched any dramas before, you’d never get it.” Hey, it’s not your fault she chose to stay up until 3 a.m. for a stupid drama. You’re not gonna tolerate her complaints about migraines after having lunch, not this time. 

“Besides,” She glances at you before throwing an arm over her head dramatically. “You look good in that hoodie, where did you get it?” 

You grab various pieces of clothing dangling off of her bed and her beige-colored computer chair as you ponder about your life choices. “Na Jaemin, who else? God, and I need to give it back to him too.” 

Yeji teases. “Are you making an excuse to meet him again?”

“We didn’t click, that’s all I have to say.” A smirk finds its way to your lips. “I basically adopted him now, so yes, I am making an excuse to meet him again because a mother has every right to see their son.” 

“You’re so weird.” Your roommate purses her lips before turning her back against you. 

You scroll through your feed in pure boredom. “What do you want for lunch? Wait, it’s too early for lunch, what about brunch?”

“Anything will do.” Yeji shrugs, not even trying to get out of bed when it’s already 9 a.m. So naturally, you’re already facepalming yourself at her questionable sleeping habits. 

Now, where is that guy Jackson?

As if on cue, your doorbell rings. You’re dead meat to me. You roll up your sleeves and put on your ‘formally serious’ face before grabbing the tote bag right beside your couch. Without even checking who’s there through the peephole, you swing the door open in a rush. “Look, Jackson, I’m really not in the mood to invite you inside for tea nor biscuits so just take the speaker and—“

“Y/N, I don’t need a speaker, stop bombarding me with information that my brain can’t even comprehend. And who the hell is Jackson?” Changbin puts his hands up as if you’re holding him at gunpoint. And you almost laugh out loud at how he looks like he just found out Trump is president, he— wait, Changbin’s here?

You subconsciously drop the speaker without noticing that you might break something before Jackson actually gets here. “You came back?!” Your mouth automatically goes agape, utterly speechless. 

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” He chuckles when you crash yourself into his embrace as an attempt to hide your teary eyes. Meeting Changbin in person again feels like a rollercoaster full of mixed emotions, you have so many things to say but nothing comes out right. Maybe it’s best if you just keep your mouth shut for the time being. 

And thank God he still smells the same and doesn’t shower himself in ridiculously expensive cologne like other guys because you’d disown him if he starts smelling like a Tommy Hilfiger store. Changbin gently wraps his arms around your waist, rocking you from side to side. “You missed me that much huh?” Suddenly tongue-tied, he’s officially lost the ability to form a proper sentence when you hold onto him so tightly, so desperately. 

When you pull away, you don’t even know what to say when so many things are running through your mind at the speed of light. After all those years, he’s changed. Yes, people change. But Changbin changed, for the better. He looks impeccable even in a simple black t-shirt with a grey bomber jacket thrown over his figure. Wait, has he been hitting the gym? You swear, last time you saw him he was five times smaller. His jawline can now cut you too apparently. Years of friendship and you just found out your best friend is an actual health freak. 

“As if..” You sniffle into the crook of his neck, tears continuously streaming down on your cheeks. Eventually, you give in. “Fine, I did miss you.” 

Changbin laughs wholeheartedly, sending vibration throughout your entire body. “Missed you too, Beastie.”  And it’s there again, that fuzzy feeling tickling the pit of your stomach. It feels wrong, and your heart knows that too well. To the point that you’re afraid of your own feelings for him, that you’d hurt him, or he’d hurt you. You just can’t decide if confessing to him is worth the risk of destroying your friendship forever. But it’s most definitely not. Maybe it’s better this way. 

“Wait,” Changbin scrunches his nose and pulls away. “You smell like a guy.” Then something rings a bell inside of him. “Right, you went on a date with some cute boy without telling me? Explain yourself.” 

You scratch the nape of your neck sheepishly, slightly embarrassed. “Well… long story short, I got bored and downloaded Tinder. He was cute, but not compatible.” 

“There you are, what took you so long?” Yeji pops her head out of her bedroom, almost giving you a heart attack. 

You toss her a look. “What do you mean ‘what took you so long? Did you know? Again ?” And she nods apologetically. “Why the fuck do I feel so left out right now? Are you guys setting me up for something sketchy? Who’s in charge?” 

“Your brother, obviously.” 

You step aside so that Changbin can walk into your living room before shutting the front door closed. “Zip it, he’s adopted.” 

six.

Kim Woojin, as always, throws his annual ‘welcome back’ BBQ party whenever someone returns from a long trip for a fairly long time. Of course, he would never leave Changbin hanging. 

Which, also means you’re obligated to accept the fact that he just single-handedly dragged you out of your apartment with the most minimal of physical effort. So now you’re stuck inside his stupid kitchen, with your siblings (no not Minho, not that heathen), potatoes. You look so incredibly alike your brother might actually be whatever with the harsh truth that you can’t stop taunting him about how he’s adopted. 

Anyway, because you’ve always been terrified about the thought of accidentally having your sleeves caught on fire, Chan just shooed you back inside to work on the potato salad. And the worst part of making a potato salad? Peeling the skin. Seriously, you’d marry someone who invented an automatic potato peeler, that’d be godsend privilege. 

The saying goes : ‘When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade’. Likewise, but in your case, it’s : ‘When life makes you cook, get yourself a best friend who’s good at it instead’. Problem solved. Changbin might not be as great as *snorts* Minho, but he did manage to survive multiple months in Italy without spending too much money eating out when he’s very, absolutely, entirely financially capable of doing that for the rest of his life. He appreciates home-cooked food because of the process, the time, the effort, the love that every family member (or one family member) put into the dishes. And it may not be something that’s Gordon Ramsay-approved, but gathering around at the same table gives people the chance to catch up, to communicate, to care more. 

And what does that mean? Well, that means when Changbin, fortunately, makes it out of the war zone in Woojin’s backyard where Hyunjin is chasing Jisung with a dead spider between his metal tong, he finds out that he just, in fact, got himself into another disaster. Bits of potatoes’ skin is everywhere, scattered randomly from the kitchen aisle to the wooden cutting board. Bottles of mayonnaise and mustard are lying lifelessly across the dining table, saucing dripping from the opened caps. And jars of different spices look like they just got dumped into one big bucket, mixed together, and then carefully divided them evenly into each one again. Changbin is utterly alarmed right now and he can’t decide whether he should be helping you or just run away. But since it’s you, he can’t simply turn on his heels and leave because chances are, you’re gonna fucking stab him in his sleep. 

“Woah, who did you kill ?” He gasps, taking slow strides toward your figure standing at the kitchen aisle. 

You blow a few strands of loose hair out of your face, crying dramatically. “My sanity, it’s long gone.” You tell him as you try to stir the mixture of mayonnaise, paprika, apple cider vinegar, celery seeds, mustard, and sweet pickle relish in a stainless steel bowl with a wooden spoon, trying hard not to ruin Jaemin’s favorite hoodie. “And if you’re not planning on giving me a hand, then the exit is right that way. No one’s stopping you.” 

Changbin shakes his head at you in disapproval for a hot minute before pulling your hair free from the loose bun, accidentally dousing himself in the more than familiar scent of your shampoo. Fresh, and a bit pepperminty, he missed this so much it’s starting to get creepy. Basically his heart just swells, but he’s gonna choose to be in denial like usual. “Better get your hair out of your face first.” He says and effortlessly puts your messy, black mop of hair into a high ponytail. It’s not like he hasn’t done this before because Changbin tends to play with your hair a lot while you’re both on a Netflix marathon. But this time, you didn’t know what it was, but the moment the tips of his fingers brushed past your bare skin, they sent electricity down your spine and goosebumps rose on your skin. The fact that your little heart feels like it’s running on a treadmill for hours doesn’t make it easier to deny how much he can affect you without even trying.

“Why are you still wearing that hoodie ?” Changbin points out, confused. 

You answer monotonously, still mad at your roommate. “Because Yeji forgot to do laundry. So I have nothing to wear.” You hate her even more now because she’s probably gonna be out and about, going to questionable parties with Ryujin until dawn and asking for a cup of water when she gets back home on your bean bag chair. “I’m gonna have to return it to Jaemin soon.” 

Changin snickers. “Yeah, you better.” He finishes chopping up the hard-boiled eggs, celery, sweet onions, and fresh dill, dropping the ingredients into the dressing that you just made. 

“So,” You walk over to the dining table to grab the bowl of chopped potato. “How did your date go? Was she cute or did she look like a potential serial killer? Wait, serial killers can look cute.” You shiver at the thought of losing your best friend in some foreign country because someone can literally be kidnapped in a span of fifteen to twenty seconds. So you don’t see the point of being ashamed about always being paranoid. 

Changbin helps you pour the dressing over the potato before stirring the goodness together with a wooden spoon. “Ah, that,” He scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly. “She’s okay I guess. But you never know, talking over text is always easier.” 

You decide to let Changbin finish up the dish and grab some paper towels to wipe down the table and counter. “So you guys never met up ?”

He looks hesitant to tell you. “Technically, we were gonna see each other every day because of the internship but I guess no? Our schedules aren’t exactly compatible. Maybe I’ll just ask her out again when I fly back.” 

You stop cleaning up the mess on the kitchen aisle and turn your attention onto your best friend. He’s nibbling on his bottom lips, guilt is evident in his eyes. 

“What internship?” You ask. 

seven.

Seo Changbin used to have ( and still has ) a soft spot for you. And everyone knows that all too well. 

He wasn’t kidding when he said that you’re his favorite girl. He wasn’t kidding when he said that he’d take a bullet for you. But you kinda wish that he was because falling in love with your childhood best friend just sounds so wrong on so many levels altogether. Jaemin night be right, it is written in the stars for some people to fall in love with their best friend but that life is not for you. There’s just something about the idea of Changbin and you as lovers that twists an immediate knot in your stomach. Sometimes you wish he doesn’t have to be so affectionate towards you so that you can give up on the one thing that’s holding you back : false hope. 

He would always drag you out of bed in the middle of the night to watch the stars and talk with him even when you guys were practically inseparable. Your group of friends constantly tells you that Changbin could never keep his hands to himself when it comes to you but realistically, he’s just a secretly clingy person who loves cuddling. But those little moments where you guys were sharing the same bed, snuggling into each other’s presence like it’s the last sense of comfort in the entire world were the ones you cherish the most. They can make you smile stupidly to yourself all day. 

And Changbin never failed to surprise you too. He once made the whole fancy breakfast in bed with flowers that only happens in movies and you couldn’t stop talking about it. Even ‘till this day, you still can’t shut up about it. He only brushed it off and told you that he wanted to spoil you since it’s your birthday but you took it as something much more than just a birthday present. Because those little actions of his are what set your heart on fire and you feel like it could combust anytime if he keeps looking at you so tenderly all the time.

Changbin isn’t a man of many words because he truly believes that actions speak louder than words. At least for him, his actions are much more powerful than his words. But that doesn’t mean his words never had any kind of effect on you. Because they did, greatly. You still remember how you’d always wake him up in the middle of the night because your stupid brain cells decided to give you a mental breakdown after bottling feelings up for so long. But Changbin didn’t just scold you for keeping everything to yourself, he did something else much more magical and much more comforting than any advice you could ever have. 

He’s written plenty of songs for you before, and you can still vividly hear the familiar melodies every now and then whenever you’re in a really dark place. 

It felt like a tight hug when you were all alone and in distress. But what sucks is that it makes you miss him even more. Where in the world is he? What is he doing? Does he have a decent life? Moreover, is he happy? You were always worried sick about Changbin because he’s that type of guy who works his ass off for things that he’s passionate about but he’d be willing to do something else for others because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone. Hence, upon hearing about him turning down an internship just to fly back, you didn’t know what to say or think. 

You yell at Changbin. “Are you out of your mind?!” 

He huffs in disbelief. “I’m a fully grown man who has every right to make my own decisions so I chose to visit my friends instead of torturing myself inside a studio. Yeah, sue me!”

“Do you have any idea how many opportunities and chances that internship would bring? There’s no need for you to do that just because of us!”

Changbin points out snarkily. “Well, you were the one who decided to call me at 3 a.m. every single day, complaining about your insomnia and shit.”

You gasp scandalously. “Why are you even saying that? It’s like you don’t even know me! I’m trying to put your benefits before mine, why is it so hard to understand that? Are you trying to say that I’m the bad guy in this conversation?”

“Maybe you are,” He says through gritted teeth. “Likewise, I’m trying to put my friends first instead of locking myself up within four soundproof walls twenty-four hours a day, five days a week, until spring break is over. You are being fucking ridiculous!” 

You’re slightly taken aback when Changbin had the audacity to say such things. Why is he still so fucking stubborn? “I’m the one who’s being ridiculous? Me trying to not get my best friend's talent wasted, me trying to not have my best friend make the rest of his break go wack because all we do here is apparently get drunk, eat, sleep, and repeat. That, is being ridiculous ?” You let out a humorless laugh. “Well, if I need to keep on doing that in order to keep you on track with your dream, then I fucking will.”

He hisses at you. “What are you? My mom? I’m a fully grown adult for fuck’s sake!” 

“Yes, I am technically your mom since the day you threw up on my dress in kindergarten. I even wiped your puke off of your face, you ungrateful brat.” 

“Uhm guys, you might wanna tone it down..” Felix tries to cool off the situation since he doesn’t really enjoy eating dinner while two people are continuously throwing daggers at each other with their eyes. 

Another thing, no matter how whipped you are for Seo Changbin, there’s still this little demonic part in your heart that screams to strangle the light out of his eyes every single day. Even back then, you guys bickered like there’s no tomorrow without a care in the world. Fortunately, your problems were always quick to be resolved because you just could never bring yourself to hate him even when you wanted to. He’s just that contagious, never fails to put a smile on your face nonetheless. 

So naturally, it’s ten minutes into the BBQ party in Woojin’s backyard and you’re more than ready to fight him. Metaphorically, not literally because you’re too utterly soft for him anyway. 

“Shh, shh,” Minho easily shushes Felix up with his index finger over his lips. “Lix, keep it down, the Petty Olympics is just getting started.” 

Jeongin purses his lips. “You’re such a snake, did you know that?” He’s obnoxiously chewing on the slices of grilled steak that Chan just took off the iron rack. Like Felix, he wishes to enjoy dinner in peace but that has not happened for quite some time and he’s already sick of it. 

Minho rolls his eyes at the younger boy with nothing but disgust in his eyes. “Wow, what a truly shocking revelation, Jeongin. It’s for the irony, sarcasm is needed in order for my joke to work.” He sips on the glass of whiskey in front of him like how he simply sips on his coworkers’ complaints about their relationships every morning. “Now run along, grab your monthly paycheck and buy yourself a sense of humor.” 

Jisung snickers. “Wow, is he mean today—“ 

You cut Jisung off unintentionally, huffing with such determination. “Don’t ever talk to me again.”

Changbin says casually. “It’s not like I want to.”

“I will break you.” You give him your best death glare.

He tips his imaginary hat with a smirk tugged on his lips. “If that’s what makes you happy, then I certainly cannot wait for it, Little Mistress.”

eight.

It’s the second time you’re hanging out with Jaemin and still, you can’t bring yourself to develop any non-platonic feelings for him. Do you really want to date him? Not really. Again, he’s not a bad guy. In fact, girls can just pass by you both walking by the Han River and they’re already eyeing him up and down like an expensive piece of steak. 

Maybe it’s something about trying to push Changbin out of your mind for once in your life. Or it can be something about the fact that he actually has some kind of romantic interest in his Tinder date. Or you’re just being ridiculous and totally overthinking the situation. 

It’s sad, but you’ll have to accept it sooner or later. You see Jaemin as nothing but a friend, and a little brother because he’s funny, respectful, and everything you can ask for in a guy. But, at the end of the day, he’s just not Changbin. 

And although you’re madly in love with your best friend, it seems like Jaemin gets you and manages to keep your mind off of him for the day so that you don’t end up crying alone in one of the bathroom stalls. You can’t be any more thankful. 

“You seriously didn’t have to watch ‘Dolittle’ twice just because of me,” Jaemin tells you as you both stand at the front door of the movies, hugging his bucket of popcorn closer to his stomach. 

You smile at him. “Robert Downey Jr. is worth watching any movie twice. That’s why I’m still not over the Endgame depression phase because I may or may not watch it one too many times.” 

He rolls his eyes at you and proceeds to throw his garbage away. “Crybaby.” Then, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and walks you towards the entrance. “I had fun tonight. Thanks, Y/N, it means a lot. Should I walk you home?”

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t.” You answer cheekily. 

Jaemin teases, “Because your boyfriend might show up and punch me in the face?” 

“Shut up! He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Woah, I didn’t even say who it was. You’re so whipped for him.”

You elbow him in the stomach, earning a low grunt from him as a response. “I shouldn’t have given you your hoodie back. I should have burnt it or something.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you, holding onto the paper bag that you brought tightly. “No, keep it if you want to. You look good in it.” 

Before you can even clap-back at him with a witty retort, your phone vibrates inside your pocket. “Sorry, someone texted me.”

[ 9:23p.m. ]

meanhoe | Y/N WHERE ARE YOU?!

meanhoe | SOMEONE BROKE INTO OUR HOUSE!

meanhoe | I’m upstairs rn, but there were some sketchy sounds earlier. I think they’re in our kitchen.

meanhoe | Bin’s still in the living room!

meanhoe | COME HOME!!

Oh. My. God. 

nine.

“Changbin, pick up, pick up,” You murmur and keep pacing back and forth at your parents’ front porch, frantically fumbling with your phone in your hands. “Goddamnit just pick up!” You groan out of frustration when you can’t even open the door because it’s locked, and Changbin’s not doing a great job at responding to your calls either. Which can only mean one thing, he’s being held hostage inside along with your brother and the intruder’s probably confiscated their phones. 

You’d take a bullet for Changbin if that’s the last thing you could do for him. There are no words to fathom how important he is to you, so now instead of thinking of how to save his ass, you’re stupidly, foolishly thinking back to high school where he would always eat lunch with you whenever Minho’s too caught up with practice, where you both would lie under an ugly tree at the very back of your school’s enormous backyard, trying to do homework and dozing off five minutes after. Changbin’s been with you through thicks and thins, with all of your ups and downs. His lack of doubt for you was what helped you survive those horrendous years and you’ve decided that you’re not gonna let go of him, not in this life. 

Therefore, you’re about to do something dumb. That something is going to prevent your best friend from getting murdered. But the chances of getting your head blown into bits are undeniably high too. That wouldn’t matter now, would it? If the intruder dares to tick you off, he best believes that you’re gonna fucking take him down with you. 

Mustering all of the courage you have left, slowly, your fingers hover over the doorknob, the other on the wooden surface, ready to bang on it like a crazy person. You inhale sharply and close your eyes. 3..2..1..

The door suddenly swings open, causing you to stagger forward and your eyes widen in panic. “Y/N? What the hell?” Changbin catches you in time and frowns furiously at your soaked figure. Your hair and clothes are doused with rain, the tips of your fingers as cold as ice from staying outside for so long. You flutter your eyes open at his words, mouth grows agape when you find out that your current position can’t be any more awkward. 

Great, now what?

Wait, where’s the intruder? “Are you okay?!” You mindlessly throw yourself at him, holding onto him so tightly like he’s gonna disintegrate into thin air once you let him go. Blood is roaring inside your ears, your heart is picking up its pace as you have so many questions, so many things to say but.. he seems pretty okay? “Is Minho okay too? Where is he? Why didn’t you pick up my calls? Why was the door locked?” 

Changbin pulls away softly to prevent you from hearing his heart thumping vigorously inside of his rib cage, eyes as wide as a goldfish’s. “What? Minho’s downtown today to meet up with his old friend who’s studying abroad. Didn’t he tell you?” 

“No?” You knit your brows together and take a full ten seconds to process what just happened. Why do you feel like you just got played? 

He closes the door and walks you inside. “And why the hell do you look like a wet rat? Did you just walk home? Weren’t that Jaemin guy supposed to drive you instead?” You purposely ignore his questions and continue to piece the little amount of information that you have together. But once you throw a glance at your parents’ living room, you see a box of fresh, piping hot Hawaiian pizza with ‘Fast and Furious’ playing on the forty-eight inches TV. With that, everything makes sense. 

You ran home as fast as you possibly could, under the rain when it’s dark outside all alone and this is how your brother repays you? 

“Wow,” You utter, somewhat lightheaded. “I need to sit down.” You tell Changbin when he comes back with a white fluffy, towel. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, wordlessly bringing the towel to your head as an attempt to dry off your hair. You’re startled by his sudden affection, cheeks growing pink as you avoid eye contact. 

Changbin caresses your cheekbone gently as if you’re far too fragile for him to touch and you just play dumb by batting your eyelashes repeatedly to shake the droplets of rain away. He quickly snaps out of it, taken aback by his own action. “Would you care to tell me what happened before I put you on trial?” He says with his arms crossed.

Your blood slowly boils as you choke on your own exasperation.“Minho told me that someone broke into our house and basically held you hostage. So I rain-checked on Jaemin, ran home only to find you in one piece with a pizza while watching ‘Fast & Furious’.” You hide your face behind your palms in sheer embarrassment as Changbin cackles his ass off in his annoyingly adorable laughter that makes you crack up every time. 

He throws his head back and continues to laugh wholeheartedly, holding onto his stomach for dear life. “He got you good, wow. So much for supporting his sister’s second date. I’m sure he just wants to make sure that you’re home before twelve.” 

“HE COULD HAVE JUST PICKED ME UP HIMSELF! HELLO?” You throw your hands in the air, huffing. You swear to God, Minho’s dead meat to you tomorrow morning. Your brother knows your feelings for Changbin all too well and he’s just doing everything he can to kick Jaemin out of your love life but the irony here is Jaemin was never there in the first place. But, Minho’s an evil mad genius so he still succeeded in pushing you back to Changbin when you’re trying to avoid him the most. Props to him, you’re now stuck inside a house with your best friend because your parents are currently going on vacation in Bora Bora. 

That wouldn’t be a problem unless you’re madly in love with him. But you are, and it sucks. 

You exclaim, smacking Changbin’s arm, causing him to whine loudly. “Would you stop laughing? I was scared that you’re gonna get murdered!” 

In a split second, he pulls you flushed against him, rocking you back and forth as he ruffles your hair. When the vibration of his chuckle emits from his chest just makes your heart skip a beat. Changbin’s never been the cheesy, romantic type like Hyunjin but sometimes he does these things that just messes up your heart more as if it’s not already all over the place. 

“Come on, Beastie, go change your clothes. I wouldn’t wanna cuddle with a sick person.” 

ten.

One shower and five minutes later, you’re on the sofa right beside Changbin with your head rested comfortably on his shoulder. The first episode of ‘The Umbrella Academy’ is blaring clamorously on your dad’s TV as your eyelids grow heavy, hanging on the edge of shutting before your favorite character even pops up. 

Changbin notices your sleepiness and pulls the wool blanket closer to your body, high enough to cover the rest of your shoulders as you snuggle into the crook of his neck. He pouts at the box of pizza and two empty bottles of Henny before playing with your hair, braiding a small section of it in boredom. He’s definitely not the type to rewatch any shows but since you’re just so pumped for the second season, you insisted that you two should binge-watch season one all over again. Obviously, he doesn’t see the point because he already knows everything, how does rewatching it has anything to do with getting him ready for the next season? Besides, you’re already falling asleep when it’s only ten minutes into the episode. 

But is Changbin gonna let you sleep in peace just like that after all those years of you waking him up at an ungodly hour? Nope. 

“Hey,” He nudges you with his elbow. “They said there wouldn’t be a second season.” 

You jolt up from your sleepy state, eyes shooting open in utter surprise and disappointment. “Wait what?! Why not?!” You cry out dramatically, hands batting in midair like a madwoman as if they’re looking for something to hold onto. Soon enough, you plop yourself back onto the couch in defeat, letting the alcohol take over your entire body. You can already feel it kicking in as your limbs grow lighter and so does your mind. Gosh, you just wish you weren’t so lightweight. 

Changbin chuckles at you, caressing your hair softly. He pulls you closer to him by your shoulder and takes in your scent like it’s the last sense of comfort on Earth. “You’re so cute when you’re drunk, did you know that?” He studies your features closely, quickly realizing how much he must matter to you for you to show this vulnerable side to him so casually. Giddiness is an understatement for the way that his heart just beats ten times faster, the way his arms hold you close so gently but so tightly at the same time. In this cracked darkness with the insufficient source of light from the TV screen, you’re so beautiful it takes the breath right out of his lungs. You seem too serene to be true, eyes closed, lips slightly agape it makes him wonder how it feels to seal his with yours. 

As if on cue, your favorite character appears on time and you swat the sleepiness away, pointing at the screen with half-open eyes. “Five! He’s so cute, can I adopt him, please?” You giggle and show him those infamous puppy eyes. Changbin can never resist it’s actually frustrating. 

“Yes, you can adopt a serial killer who knows how to travel through time, absolutely.” Changbin facepalms himself. “Honestly, what do you even see in him?” 

“He’s smart and funny, and a total badass. I like how he never sugarcoats things and stays true to himself. But, he also puts others before himself without expecting them to do the same thing back. His actions speak louder than his words because there are countless times where he saved his siblings although he talks to them as if he sees them as nothing more than a bunch of assholes. I admire him in so many ways although he’s just a fictional character. And you know why?” You cock your head sideways, leaning closer. “Because he kinda reminds me of you.” 

Changbin tenses up at the last part. “W-What?” 

The ‘sober Y/N’ would never be brave enough to tell him what you’re planning on saying next. “I love you, Bin. I know that I might not act like I give a fuck, but I genuinely care about you. You mean the world to me.” You blurt mindlessly, hiccuping into his ears. “I really do love you. I just never got the courage to say it.” You hum and toppling over his figure on top of the couch, your legs straddling his. 

“We can’t.” Changbin places his index finger on your lips to stop you from decreasing the distance. “You’re not thinking straight right now.” 

You pull back, frowning. “Why? Because I’m not sober? What do my feelings for you have anything to do with alcohol?” You’re not mad, but rather curious. Either way, you can’t seem to get mad at Changbin for more than ten seconds. 

“I- I don’t wanna hurt you.” He stutters and stops as he sees the heartbroken look in your eyes. It hurts even more because deep down, the sober part in you knows that you’d never fathom enough courage to actually tell him how you feel. And you also know that you’ve just potentially fucked up more than ten years worth of friendship. Changbin’s warm brown eyes stare at you with nothing but pure sincerity. “It’s like I’m taking advantage of you in this kind of state. It’s not right. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.” He brushes your hair out of your face and sighs. 

“Bin, you respect me like no one else does. You know it. I know it. We know it. You’re my best friend.” 

“That’s the problem.” He pulls you closer while rubbing little circles on your back. “Promise me that we’ll never change, yeah?” 

You wrap your hands around his neck, a tear threatening to fall from the corner of your eye. “Yeah..promise.” 

“Y/N, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He reassures you as a confirmation, standing up from the couch that he’s been occupying for too long. You keep your gaze low, unable to meet his eyes as you’re ashamed of your own action. You shouldn’t have done that. What were you thinking for fuck’s sake?

Changbin turns off the TV before guiding you towards the stairs in the dark, holding onto your waist tightly enough so that you won’t slip. “Don’t blame yourself on this, okay?”

You voice quietly, almost a whisper. “Okay.” 

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

eleven.

That night, you held onto Changbin like he’s the last thing you’re ever gonna see although you knew too well that it’s meaningless. What’s the point anyways? He just slapped your confession away and that alone was enough for you to understand that he sees you as nothing more than a friend. However, it’s still better than being stuck in that weird gray area that just keeps messing with your mind. You wouldn’t want to get in his way either. So when Changbin tried to peel your hands away from his torso gently in the middle of the night, your eyes remained closed as you rolled on the other side of the bed. 

When you woke up in the morning, he was already gone. 

It’s like he’s never been there all of those years as if he’s just an illusion that your delusional self made up to comfort yourself when things get hard. All of his belongings were nowhere to be found, his bed in the guest room was neatly made, something that he’s never done before. Changbin left no traces, no notes, no messages, no nothing like it’s a natural implement for ‘Don’t bother looking for me, I’m not gonna come back’. But to you, it feels more like ‘You fucked up our friendship, Y/N. I will never speak to you again’. 

Losing a best friend of a lifetime is way worse than going through a breakup. But it hurts more when you’ve unintentionally developed feelings for him when you know too well that it’s not right. It’s not right. And you seriously screwed up. You just hurt the one and only person that’s so incredibly close and special to your heart. Therefore, you’re distraught, unable to do anything right for some of the following days. Utterly destroyed, you can’t seem to stop blaming yourself for what happened. 

Changbin’s done so much for you and you can’t be any more grateful to have him in your life. There was this time where you totally lashed out on him because you were just having a ‘bad day’. He didn’t even get mad at you, he never gets mad at you. Instead, Changbin let you lock yourself up in your room for an hour until he came back with a box of chocolate and flowers. Everything fell right back into its place again and you really don’t know what you did to deserve him. He always goes out of his way, prioritizing others’ benefits rather than his own. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone at all because, in your heart, you know that he can be hurt easily too. 

So it’s no shocker that you’re madly in love with him. You like how he smiles and looks at you like you’re the only person that’s existing in this celestial sphere. You like the sound of his laughter because it reminds you of Spongebob sometimes, it’s ridiculously adorable in the best way possible. You also like how he clings onto you and lets you be the big spoon whenever he’s having a long day, you can’t stop smiling knowing that he finds comfort in your presence. 

The only flaw about him is that he’s all about that healthy life, which is good for him but you’re not adapting that any time soon. And he doesn’t talk about himself enough as he’s always used to listening to others’ problems instead. He’s flawsome, but you’re willing to embrace it all. Yes, as cheesy as it sounds, you love all of him. 

Just because he’s Seo Changbin. 

You stay up for many days, thinking an awful amount and flashbacking to when you’re on top of him, staring at him so tenderly as those idiotic words slipped out of your lips. All of because of one single beer. You just wish you could take it all back. If so, maybe you wouldn’t have lost the person you care about the most. 

“No, she won’t eat no matter what I say.” You can hear Yeji’s voice echoes from the living room as you throw an arm over your eyes. “I don’t think you should see her right now, not when she’s on the verge of breaking down every two seconds.” You don’t even have to look to know that your brother’s outside, probably worried sick about you. Minho might not be the type of person to show affections on a regular basis, but he genuinely cares about the people around him. He just doesn’t know how to express that he cares. 

The front door closes with a small ‘click’, making you jolt up from your bed. Your roommate pushes the door to your bedroom open and runs a hand through her hair. She practically grimaces at the current state of your room : curtains closed, clothes scattered all over the place with you still in your PJs. It’s funny because normally, you’re the one who complains whenever she’s being messy, now Yeji has the perfect reason to pay back. “Jesus Christ,” She frowns when her hands open the beige-colored curtains. “Get yourself together, will you?”

“Leave-me-alone.” You hiss at her like a snake when the light comes flooding in, blinding your eyes in the process. “What do you want? Am I not depressed enough to be at peace?”

She shakes her head and sits down next to your reclined form on the bed, a hand finds its way to your back. “No, you’re just in denial.” Yeji pulls your figure closer, embracing you with as much sincerity that she can muster. She might as well have you scream at her for forgetting to do laundry and waking up late rather than seeing you barely alive like this. If this goes on for too long, you might end up in the ER. And she can care less about whatever you’re planning on doing next because clearly, you’re not emotionally stable enough to make your own decisions right now. 

You look down. “About what?”

“About the fact that Seo Changbin likes you too.” She says softly. “Only a dumbass can’t see that he’s completely head over heels for you.”

You chuckle dryly. “He’s not, he probably hates me.”

“He never hated you, he never hates you, and he will never hate you.” Yeji sighs as you snuggle closer to her chest. “Why would you think that Changbin hates you?” 

Your eyes widen in terror as the night before when he left replays in your head over and over again. The more you think about it, the more you wanna kick yourself for not controlling our own feelings. Three words and your best friend’s gone. He was right, you guys could never, you weren’t thinking straight. Even down to that moment, Changbin put you before him and treated you with nothing but respect. “Because I ruined our friendship. Things are never gonna be the same again. I shouldn’t have fallen for him, I’m so stupid.” You let out an audible groan and bury your face into your palms. 

Yeji peels your hands away and forces you to look at her. “I don’t see why falling for Seo Changbin is considered stupid. You see things in him that no one else does, and you even had the courage to confess how you truly feel, even when it’s because of a bottle of Henny. Not everyone can accept that because people are cowards when it comes to commitment and their own feelings.” She keeps looking you dead in the eye as if she’s testing you. “Look, even if Changbin doesn’t feel the same way. He can never hate you.”

“And why should I believe you?” 

Your roommate laughs in disbelief, shaking your shoulder forcefully. “Are you blind? Do you even hear yourself right now? Haven’t you seen the way that he looks at you, eyes sparkling like puppies and all? If that’s not love, then I don’t know what is. Even if it’s not the love that you wanted him to return, he still loves you as a friend. He just ran away because, well, he’s human too. He might need some time to himself and make up his mind.” 

You stare into the distance this time, eyes empty. “True love doesn’t count if it’s not returned, don’t you agree?” 

Yeji rolls her eyes at you, she looks like she’s about to personally drag your ass across the planet, straight to Italy just to make up with Changbin. “Oh-my-god, you’re impossible! Of course, it counts! So what, you’re telling me that your feelings for him after all these years would mean nothing if he doesn’t say those three words back? I know that you’re sad and angry about what happened, but I think it’s much better than bottling everything up all to yourself. You were brave for doing that, Y/N.”

Your lips stay sealed as you decide to listen to her lecture obediently like a child. “Do you think Changbin would want to see you like this? No, no one wants to see you all depressed and miserable. Do you have any idea how worried Minho is? Have you checked the notifications on your phone? It’s not like you can’t move on with life without Changbin, you can and you will if that’s what you have to do.” 

“So..?” 

“Are you gonna step up and get your life back again or what?”

You groan internally, because gosh, you hate it whenever she’s right. 

twelve.

From then on, Changbin’s like a phantom in your life, not because he’s constantly popping out of nowhere to scare the living daylight out of you, but because he’s constantly on your mind. Everything feels a little bit emptier without him. You don’t have to worry about having cilantro in your daily meals because he’s not there to complain about it. And there’s no longer a random cup of chai tea in the fridge on Sunday mornings because he can’t buy you one anymore. 

But at the same time, everything reminds you of him. Like how his pairs of designer shoes aren’t laying around at your front door, how his favorite hoodies aren’t being forgotten at your place intentionally, and how the Stitch stuffed animal he gave you last year still reeks off his significant scent. Everything gives you a hard time to finally let him go, but ultimately, you know that you’ll pull through. And you did. 

You move on with a college degree waiting for you at the end of this dark, bumpy road. Changbin, on the other hand, you can’t say much because his SoundCloud account is currently empty. He deleted every single song, every mixtape, every demo possible as if he’s trying to wipe his existence out of your life completely. Which makes it more difficult for you to muster up some courage and reach out to him again. 

It’s almost a year, and you wish he could have just given you a sign about whether he’s fine with being friends or not. But as always, leaving notes is definitely not his department. The thing is, you feel like you both didn’t just grow apart. You also grew up. 

“Y/N, did you ask me to go to the movies just because you didn’t feel like studying for finals?” Jaemin nudges you with his elbow and you smack his arms in return. Okay, technically you did grow up but old habits die hard, and you’re still procrastinating. Nothing new, but the occasional non-dates with Jaemin somehow helped with the aching part in your heart. You can’t say that he’s your new best friend because gosh, no one could ever replace Changbin. But ever since you found out that you guys go to the same college, you kept running into him on campus. Hence, hanging out with him is practically unavoidable. 

You laugh, letting him swing an arm around your shoulders. “Nope, it’s because I love hanging out with you.”

“Does that naturally imply as you love me?” He grins coyly before approaching your car at the very end of the parking lot. You’ve talked about this before. ‘Love’ is an overstatement for the love that you have for Jaemin. Of course, you love him, just not in a romantic way and he accepts that. Although he does sometimes pull you in as a stunt just to get a discount for buying a couples’ combo. You let him, only because you’re both broke college students who are dreading your own student’s loans. 

“Sure, I just love you so much I can’t even bring myself to say it without doing this.” You slowly feed his ego and your right hand quickly grabs the right side of his ears, dragging him into the driver’s seat of your car. Jaemin stops wincing once you let him go, pouting when you enter through the back door. “Serves you right.” You scoff, throwing him the key to start the engine. 

He rubs his now swollen, red ear in pain, whining out loud like a kid that’s not allowed to buy popcorn when their parents bring them to the movie theatre. “This is domestic violence, I’m suing.” He complains but still hits the gas and starts backing out of the overpacked parking lot. People go wild during the weekends. That’s why you’re letting him drive because you suck. 

You smile satisfactorily. “Ah, enslaved child labor at its finest.” If looks could kill, Minho would probably find your corpse in the car, limbs spread wide open because Jaemin is occasionally tossing you dirty looks through the rear-view mirror as he finds a way to hide a body while driving towards your neighborhood. 

When you get home, you politely offer Jaemin to stay for dinner but he said he’s got a date to catch up with so you just let him be. Yeji isn’t gonna be home until nine because of her shift at the café so you basically have the whole apartment to yourself until your roommate returns from work. 

Exhausted from spending all day on campus and going to the movies after, you quickly get rid of your long coat and plop yourself onto the couch. You waste absolutely no time and automatically hang yourself upside down on the cushioned surface while scrolling through your feed in boredom. You like to change up your position every ten minutes so that you feel less like a potato while your blood circulation isn’t gonna get blocked anywhere. 

The moment you’re about to accept a video call from Jisung, you’re interrupted with a rather strange notification. You decide to text him, saying that you’re busy with a presentation and open the email from an unknown email. The email doesn’t have any specific title and you don’t think it belongs to any of your classmates. However, there’s a file attached to it which makes you even more confused. Who’d send a random video to someone they don’t even know? What if this is some kind of trick that people use for human trafficking? Like once you tap on it, there’s an automatic tracker on your phone and soon enough, you’ll go missing. 

“for_you.mp4”

It makes your heart skip a beat as realization hits you like a truck. Deep down, you know, you know who it belongs to and you’re even more terrified to watch it. But you have to, you have to watch it. With a sharp inhale, your index finger trembles until it comes in contact with your screen, opening the file. 

“Is this thing on?” 

You immediately burst into tears as soon as Changbin appears. You’re stupidly, foolishly crying as he awkwardly adjusts the camera angle, checking himself in the monitor and runs a hand through his hair. Changbin’s wearing that one fitted black t-shirt that he probably bought in big bulks, warm brown eyes peeking through his messy bangs. He’s never looked better to the point that you’re tongue-tied, unable to scream even when you have so many questions, so many things to say. Yet only tears come streaming down your face. You missed him dearly, and here he is finally. 

“Y/N?” Changbin quirks a brow and smiles. God, you missed his smile too. “If you’re watching this video, don’t..post it on social media. It’s gonna be a real tearjerker.” 

You chuckle, wiping your tears away with the sleeves of your hoodie. He didn’t change, at all. “I don’t know if you can still forgive me for what I’ve done, but I still owe you an apology. I’m sorry for running away. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings. I’m sorry for not treating you right. It’s just when you said that you loved me, it sparked so much skepticism inside my head that even I couldn’t understand what I was thinking. Next thing I know, I was out the door, straight to the airport. I was an asshole and I know that. I hope you’re taking good care of yourself right now because you did nothing wrong. In fact, there’s something that I’ve been wanting to tell you too. I can’t seem to be complete without you. You’re it. You’re my endgame.” 

When Changbin takes in a deep breath, so do you. You nervously scratch onto the black nail polish that’s starting to chip off on your pinkie, waiting for him as he fiddles with his fingers. Suddenly, he looks straight into the camera and laughs. “Why are you still here? You didn’t see the notification, did you?”

What notification?

Your trains of thoughts are once again canceled when your phone buzzes. You’ve just got a notification from an app that you barely touched since Changbin left. “SpearB just posted a new track. Check it out!”

“Neverending Story ( Demo ).” 

Faster than a tick of the clock, you start playing the track, fingers drumming impatiently on one of your throw pillows. “Be mine, yeah?” His raspy voice sounds ten thousand times more attractive because it’s been a while since you’ve heard it and chills run up your spine. Adrenaline is pumping through your veins, your heart hanging on the verge of exploding. The soft instrumental blends in with the piano in the background perfectly, drowning out every other sound in the entire world. But what throws you off is that Changbin starts singing. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard him sing and it’s truly breathtaking that you can do nothing more than sitting there with a hand over your mouth, letting the melody guide your mind. 

“Whenever you smile, whenever you struggle

I'll always protect you

For you,

I can even go against time

Just to appear in front of you

I believe, I believe

Even if the world changes

Can you promise that we won't?”

The first verse bleeds into the pre-chorus, then the chorus itself and Changbin starts rapping, spilling the feelings that he’s been struggling with saying out for you. Every word, every sound, every note hits differently and you feel like you’re already on cloud nine, drifting off into a daze. You can fully acknowledge and feel the ignited passion that he has for you even when he’s more than five thousand miles away, on the other side of the planet. But that’s all you need honestly because what more can you ask for? 

As if on cue, the song ends and there’s a knock at your door. 

Heat rushes up the bridge of your nose as you wobble towards the front door, head still slightly lightheaded from the mixture of emotions. You quickly fix your hair, straightening your hoodie and your toes curl from the nervousness. The moment you twist the doorknob, Changbin backs you up against the wall, shutting the door with his feet. He stares you down intensely, making you feel extremely small in comparison. But those eyes of his are filled with nothing but adoration for you and only you. “I’m in love with you, the same way that you meant it back then. I’ve been in love with you for even God doesn’t know how long. I booked a plane ticket and wrote the song as soon as that thought clicked in me. You’re all that I need. I want you to be my one and only. And I still want you back, so what do you say?” 

Your lips curl upwards softly into a smile. “You’re really outdoing yourself, aren’t you? I confessed to you when I was drunk and not only did you film a video, but you also wrote a song for me?”

“Only for you, Beastie.” Changbin chuckles and pulls you closer, sealing the gap between your lips. He’s done it, he did what he’s been wanting to for his entire life : to know what being in love actually feels like. His kiss isn’t even somewhere near as those movie stars’ that you both used to make fun of every weekend. It’s one that steeped into a passion that flickers at the very pit of your stomach, one that makes you feel like home, like he’s your safe place. Changbin’s said everything that he wanted but he kisses you as a silent promise that he will do stupid things just to be with you, to have you right by his side for the rest of his life. 

He’s the first to pull away, resting his forehead against yours as you both exchange shallow breaths. Smiling at you, Changbin can’t help himself but peppers small kisses all over your face from your forehead to the tip of your nose. 

Life likes to toss you around and fuck you up sometimes but somehow, magically it always puts everything back in its place. The amount of tears that you’ve shed feels like payment for what you’re holding in your arms right now but there’s nothing that you won’t do to be here, in his embrace. Technically, Changbin didn’t have to say those three words back and he only did because he could, not because he needed to. 

Even if he’s five thousand miles away, no one else is closer to your heart than he is. He loves you with all of the madness in his soul.