#i think everything makes sense but you never know w/ me

[thewitchandtheassassin]

Life, Death, and the Space in Between Part Four (Agatha Harkness x Reader x Rio Vidal)

Summary: Every action has a consequence.

Words: 1540

Warnings: Arguments, talks of death, canon death, language?

A/N: I'm alive. I haven't forgotten this. I also have Covid so forgive me. K, thanks!

-X-

Agatha’s feet carried her forward, through endless expanse as she searched for Nicky before—

Two small, thin arms wrapped around her, his head pressing against her stomach as he barreled into her. “Mama!” his voice cracked, burrowing deeper into her grasp.

Breath catching painfully in her chest, Agatha sunk to her knees, gathering him into her arms and just… holding him, silent tears streaming down her face. He smelled just like she remembered—of earth and rain and everything good in her world. Everything good she’d ever done.

-X-

Trembling hands caressed your face, wiping away sweat and tears as your breathing grew shallow, lips paling.

“W-what’s happening?” Teen asked nervously, flinching at Rio’s cold, unwavering glare.

“Which part? The part where you shouldn’t exist right now and neither should this godforsaken Road? How your powers just sent (Y/N) and Agatha into the realm of the afterlife because you can’t control your abilities? Or the part where—” Rio choked on her words, staring down at your unmoving body, “—Life is dying?”

Teen’s jaw dipped open, eyes wide with horror. “W-what?”

The other witches took a step back, sensing the brewing storm within Rio, eyes flickering between the boy and the scene before them.

“You, Teen, are Billy Maximoff. Son of the Scarlet Witch and the creator of the Witch’s Road. Congratulations, you’ve turned a con into a reality and in doing so, have damned Life to die because you briefly gave Agatha Harkness enough power to drag my other half into the fucking afterlife!” her words were sharp, cracking around the edges. “The living can’t come back from the afterlife! In letting Agatha have exactly what she wanted, Life made a choice… and she…”

Shaking fingers drifted along your cheeks.

“God, why did you do it?” she asked your still form. “You idiot. You stupid, wonderful, selfless idiot.”

“Wait, wait, hold up. (Y/N) is Life?” Jenn repeated, her eyes jumping between you and Rio. “So does that make you—”

“Death,” Lilia finished, though it wasn’t a question.

Tilting her head slightly, Rio’s eyes never left you. “Ding, ding, ding. Thank you for playing, witches. So, unless anyone has any useful ideas right this second, I need you all to shut the hell up while I think.”

For once…

The Road was silent.

And Rio had no ideas of how to solve this fucking mess.

-X-

Staggering towards Agatha and Nicky, you forced your body to keep moving, even as the afterlife demanded more from you the longer Agatha remained. Seeing her clinging to Nicky tugged at your heart and you hated yourself for what you were about to do. Dragging her away.

“Mommy!” Nicky gasped, peering over Agatha’s shoulder at you, his excitement fading into worry. “Are you okay? You don’t look okay.”

Stiffening slightly, Agatha glanced over her shoulder at you, eyes widening at the blackening veins pulsing on your face, the paleness of your lips, the shadows nipping at your heels…

“Hey, baby,” you rasped, collapsing beside Agatha and gently combing your fingers through his long hair. “I uh… I’m okay. I have to take Mama home though. I’m sorry, we can’t stay.”

Nicky’s expression dropped but he nodded. “I know. It’s not Mama’s time.”

Reaching up, his small hand touched your cheek, knowing something’s wrong even if he can’t understand it. His other hand touched Agatha’s.

“Please stop fighting,” he whispered to Agatha, holding her gaze. “It wasn’t their fault. Someday, we’ll be a family. All of us. You and Mommy and Mami… we’ll all be happy again.”

Maybe it’s the light shining in his eyes or the actual health keeping his face colored or maybe it’s the confidence in his voice but something—even if she didn’t want to admit it—began to warm in her chest, regret flooding into her eyes as she really took you in. How sick you suddenly seemed. The way you were panting, despite not needing air. The way your glow seemed…

Dim.

Smiling softly—in pain, in heartbreak—you grabbed Agatha’s hand and tangled your fingers together before closing your eyes, yanking both of you back into your bodies before she could try and stop you.

Then…

There was only darkness.

-X-

Agatha awoke with a gasp, sitting upright abruptly. The Road. She was on the Road again—lying in the wet mud—but…

Glancing around, she saw everyone surrounding… something.

“And here I thought this coven would be happy to know I’m fine,” she half-joked, staggering to her feet and wandering over to group, almost offended by the lack of reaction. “Really feeling the sisterhood here.”

Before she could even reach the circle, Rio’s hand was wrapped around her neck, shoving her into a tree. Scathing remarks on the tip of her tongue, she froze at the look of absolute fury on Rio’s face. Of all the things she’d said and done over the centuries, she’d never been on the receiving end of this expression…

This hatred.

“Agatha Harkness, you selfish, thoughtless woman! Hate me all you want but she—” Rio choked on her words, emotion swimming so deeply in her eyes that it nearly stole Agatha’s breath. “—she always saw the best in you. Forgave you for whatever you said; whatever you did. But this? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What fucking mess you’ve caused? No, because you don’t ever think about anyone other than yourself!”

“What are you talking about?” Agatha choked out, fingers wrapping around Rio’s wrist in an attempt to loosen her grip.

Dragging her by her throat over to your body, Rio snarled, “Look!”

There, motionless on the ground, you lied. Pale in the moonlight of the Road, eyes fluttering, chest barely rising—

You looked like a damn corpse, something Agatha never once expected to see. You, so full of energy and life, snuffed out like a candle in a windstorm, only embers remaining where your flames once burned. Your fingers twitched, as if reaching out for something unseen but too weak to find.

“Nothing living can return from the afterlife. It demands a price, a price, for any mortal that passes through—and she fucking paid yours.” Rio’s lip trembled, staring at the dying body of her counterpart.

Her perfect other half.

For the first time in her existence, Agatha Harkness was struck speechless. You, who always stood by her side even when she screamed and raged and hated… you, who vowed to love her even as Agatha scorched the earth around her… you who could’ve left her to the afterlife…

“(Y/N),” she breathed, dropping to her knees beside you, a trembling hand reaching out to touch your face, only to be caught by Rio and yanked away, nearly knocked backwards onto her ass.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” she hissed, carefully lifting your body into her arms to cradle you to her chest. Feeling the way your heartbeat was waning beneath her palm. Sluggish. Barely beating. “You’ve done enough.”

Agatha’s lips parted, but no words came. There was nothing she could say. For once, the woman who had spoken her way into and out of every situation imaginable—who always found an angle to tip the scales in her favor—was utterly, horrifyingly speechless. For all her dark knowledge… she was completely unprepared.

A broken, strangled sound escaped her lips, and she moved again, reaching for you instinctively. “Rio, please—”

“No,” Rio spat, pulling you tighter against her chest. Her arms curled around you as if shielding you from the very woman who had caused this, her visage flickering for a split second. An unspoken warning. “You don’t get to ask anything of me. Of her. Not anymore.”

Agatha recoiled like she’d been struck, breath hitching sharply in her throat. She wanted to argue, to lash out, to fix this—but there was nothing she could say, nothing she could do. For the first time, she actually felt how powerless she really was.

"Please, baby," Rio whispered, this time directed at you. At the barely-there rise and fall of your chest. "Stay with me. Don’t leave me; I can’t do this without you."

But even as she begged, even as she reached for something unseen, something that was already slipping between her fingers, trying to call upon something—anything, the truth sat heavy in the air.

You were dying.

And there wasn’t a damn thing Death could do to stop it.

Jenn took a step forward, hesitant. “There has to be something we can do.” Her voice wavered, but there was determination in her eyes, staring at your still body. “Life isn’t a mortal, so that means the afterlife can’t just… take her.”

Rio let out a bitter laugh, low and humorless. “Oh, sure. Go ahead, Jenn. If you have a way to defy the fundamental laws of existence and the cosmos and the afterlife I’ve cultivated for millennia, be my guest. Clearly a bunch of half-assed witches know more than an actual cosmic entity.”

Jenn bristled but she kept quiet, knowing this wasn’t just anger—this was unadulterated grief. The panic of not being able to stop what felt inevitable.

And if they didn’t hurry…

There would be no life left to save.

[cyberhughes]

Could I please get a rum & coke? #17 with Connor Bedard

cyberhughes 200 follower special ⋆ .˚

rum & coke coming up!!

prompt #17: "i can't get you out of my head."

warnings: breakups, angst angst angst

fuck sorry this one kinda hurt i think im projecting w this one guys LOL (god help me.)

prompt list

connor bedard was the love of your life.

was.

officially, you had been with him for two years, but you knew him longer than that. the two of you sharing a bond stronger than anything throughout your childhood.

it had been one year since the end of said relationship, one year since he had left you crying in front of your apartment as he walked away with your heart, and one year since you had lost your best friend and lover in one fell swoop, your twin flame.

you grieved like never before. it was almost worse than grieving someone who was dead, because he was still out there, keeping your heart captive.

you couldn't even remember what the first few weeks after the breakup were like. you had locked yourself away in your apartment, letting your entire being be consumed by sorrow.

it truly came out of nowhere, the two of you were happy. or at least, you thought you were.

"connor, what are you talking about?" your smile faltered as he stood in front of you, hands in his pockets while he stared at you with that emotionless expression he always had. "it's just not working." his words rang in your ears and you could feel the reality settle in.

your lips moved to speak but shut just as quickly. you didn't know what to say, how could you? the two of you just worked, he was your soulmate and you were his. he had seen every part of you, felt every part of you, taken every part of you. you gave him your everything,

so what the hell wasn't working?

that's the question that you had destroyed yourself over for the past year. when connor left you, he had taken a piece of your soul with him, and you weren't sure if you'd ever get it back. and so, you'd spend the rest of your life yearning for that piece, yearning for him.

while you were together he was always on your mind of course, but now it felt as if he had taken over you, your thoughts consumed by nothing more than him. you could only think of the sound of his comforting voice, which was now starting to fade away. you could only think of the way his smile could make your heart melt in an instant. you could only think of the way his lips molded to yours as he kissed you. it was like he had left a poison in you when he left, ensuring that he would be the only one you'd ever love.

it wasn't healthy, is what your friends told you. it wasn't healthy to still be hung up on your ex boyfriend after a whole year. but he was more than that, he was your partner, in every sense of the word. you had gone through everything with him, been there for him when no one else was.

now the only thing you were going through was his instagram, scrolling the feed that had already been graced by that little red heart. he was doing good, better than good. maybe you were holding him back, not allowing him to shine as bright as he could. that's all you ever wanted for him, so why couldn't you accept this?

you found yourself going through old photos and texts, not having deleted his number even after a year. soon you found your thumb hovering over his name in your contacts, your mind daring you to call him.

and so you did.

it rang once.

then it rang twice.

and just as it was about to ring that third time, as you were about to hang up knowing he'd never respond, you heard his voice.

"hello?" he spoke softly and you felt your whole body tense as you heard the voice that you once sought out for comfort. sure, you had put yourself in this situation, but you didn't think he would actually pick up.

your breath was shaky as you spoke, "i can't..." your voice cracked, and you were glad he couldn't see you in this pathetic state.

"y/n?"

"i can't get you out of my head." your voice was barely above a whisper, yet he caught every single word.

"it's been a year." he spoke sternly, as if you didn't recognize that, and suddenly it felt like you were being transported right back to that night where he had first broken your heart.

your eyes welled with tears as you heard him sigh over the phone, did he not miss you the way you missed him?

"why did you end it?" you asked, feeling your heartrate increase, you shouldn't have called him like this.

"y/n why are you-"

"tell me." you pleaded as the tears fell down onto your cheeks. a lifetime ago he would've been the one to wipe them away, telling you he'd never let anything hurt you, but he ended up being the one to.

the other end went silent for a moment before he spoke, "i didn't love you anymore."

you felt your heart drop deeper than it ever had, never expecting him to answer in such a way. "why? did i do something wrong?" you didn't know why you bothered asking, he didn't give you a reason then, and he probably wouldn't now.

"i had more important things to focus on." he rubbed salt in the wound, as if you were never important to him. as if you weren't the first name he'd call for whenever something happened to him, as if you weren't the one to carry his weight when he felt like he couldn't continue, as if you weren't the one who kept the flame of his soul alight. he didn't care as much as you did, he never did.

and so you hung up.

call ended.

connor looked down at his phone, "fuck." his lip quivered as he tried to hold it together.

you were always the most important thing to him, and that's why he had to let you go. he didn't want to tie you down, a ball and chain keeping you from pursuing your own dreams as you followed him around the nhl.

he knew you'd be alright eventually, and he knew that you’d find someone who could give you all their love in ways he couldn’t. after all he knew you better than you knew yourself.

and that's why he selfishly kept a piece of your heart, because he never truly wanted to let you go.

[tosomeonessomeone]

The mark of two worlds.

words・ 6.9k /pairings・ Jisung x reader / genres・fluff, a little angst / warnings・ love making

On your 21st birthday, the world as you knew it changed forever. It started with a strange tingling sensation on your wrist, where a small, intricate mark had appeared overnight. At first, you thought it was just a weird birthmark or a temporary tattoo you’d forgotten about. But then, in the blink of an eye, you were no longer in your cozy apartment in Seoul. Instead, you found yourself standing in the middle of a quaint, sunlit living room in a house you’d never seen before.

Panic surged through you. *Where am I? How did I get here?* You stumbled backward, your heart racing, as you took in your surroundings. The house was warm and inviting, filled with soft furniture, bookshelves lined with your favorite novels, and a kitchen that smelled faintly of vanilla. It felt... familiar, as if it had been waiting for you.

Over the next few weeks, you discovered that the mark on your wrist was no ordinary mark. It was a *soulmate mark*, a gateway to an alternate universe. Every time you touched it and focused, you could teleport between your world and this peaceful, idyllic house in a charming little city. It became your sanctuary, a place where you could escape the chaos of your life.

In your world, you were a rising star—a recently graduated literature student turned international sensation after your debut novel took the world by storm. Your days were filled with interviews, book signings, and endless deadlines. But here, in this other universe, you were just... *you*. No fame, no expectations, just quiet moments to breathe and be yourself.

For three years, you visited the house regularly, growing more and more attached to it. You filled the shelves with your favorite books, cooked meals in the cozy kitchen, and even planted flowers in the small garden outside. It felt like a second home, a place where you could recharge before returning to your hectic life.

But one day, everything changed.

You teleported to the house as usual, expecting the familiar silence and solitude. Instead, you were met with the sound of someone crashing into a table, followed by a startled yelp. Your eyes widened as you saw a boy—no, a man—in his early twenties, standing in the middle of the living room, looking just as shocked as you were.

He had messy brown hair, wide, panicked eyes, and a mark on his wrist that glowed faintly, just like yours. For a moment, you both just stared at each other, frozen in place.

“W-who are you?!” he stammered, his voice trembling. “How did I get here?!”

You recognized him instantly. It was *Han Jisung*, the talented rapper, singer, and lyricist from Stray Kids. But in this moment, he wasn’t the confident idol you’d seen on stage. He was just a boy, confused and scared, just like you had been three years ago.

“I... I think I’m your soulmate,” you said softly, holding up your wrist to show him the mark.

His eyes darted to your wrist, then to his own, and the realization slowly dawned on him. “Soulmate marks... alternate universes... this is insane,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “But... it kind of makes sense?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in the room easing just a little. “Yeah, it’s a lot to take in. But... welcome to your second home, Jisung.”

He blinked at you, his panic slowly giving way to curiosity. “You know who I am?”

“Of course I do. You’re kind of a big deal in my world,” you said with a smile. “But here... you’re just Jisung. And I’m just me.”

For the first time, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Just Jisung, huh? I think I like the sound of that.”

One of the first things you did was exchange numbers. It was a practical decision—after all, you both had lives to return to in your normal universes—but it quickly became something more. Texts turned into late-night phone calls, and soon, you were sharing snippets of your days with each other. Jisung would send you voice notes of new lyrics he was working on, and you’d send him photos of your writing desk or the view from your apartment window. It was a strange but beautiful way to build a connection, bridging the gap between your two worlds.

Your weekly meetings in the alternate universe became a ritual. Every Saturday afternoon, without fail, you’d both teleport to the house and spend hours together. Sometimes you’d cook meals in the cozy kitchen, laughing as Jisung attempted (and failed) to chop vegetables without nearly cutting his fingers off. Other times, you’d curl up on the couch with a book or a movie, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other’s company.

One of the best parts of this alternate universe was the freedom it offered. You could go out for walks in the city without worrying about paparazzi or fans recognizing you. The streets were quiet and peaceful, lined with quaint shops and cafes. It felt like a dream, a world where you could just exist as two ordinary people, hand in hand, without a care in the world.

But back in your normal universe, things were a little more complicated. Jisung couldn’t keep the secret of your relationship from his Stray Kids members for long. One evening, during a late-night practice session, he accidentally let it slip.

“So, uh, I’ve been spending a lot of time with someone,” he said casually, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

The room went silent. All eyes turned to him.

“Wait, what?” Changbin was the first to break the silence. “You’ve been *what*?”

“Who is it?” Hyunjin demanded, his eyes narrowing. “Is it someone we know?”

Jisung hesitated, but the members weren’t about to let him off the hook. Under their relentless questioning, he finally caved and told them everything—about the soulmate mark, the alternate universe, and you.

The reaction was... loud, to say the least.

“YOU HAVE A SOULMATE?!” Felix shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.

“And she’s *the* Y/N? The writer?!” Jeongin added, looking utterly starstruck.

“This is so unfair!” Seungmin complained, crossing his arms. “Why does Jisung get to have a soulmate who’s, like, the coolest person ever?”

Chan, ever the leader, tried to calm everyone down, but even he couldn’t hide his curiosity. “So, when do we get to meet her?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Jisung groaned, burying his face in his hands. “No way. Absolutely not. She’s *my* soulmate, and I’m not sharing her with you guys. You’ll just annoy her.”

But the members weren’t about to take no for an answer. Over the next few days, they bombarded Jisung with demands to meet you in your normal universe. They even started brainstorming ways to “accidentally” run into you, much to Jisung’s dismay.

“They’re relentless,” he complained to you during one of your weekly meetings. “I swear, if they ever meet you, they’re going to embarrass me so much.”

You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I think it’s sweet. They just want to make sure I’m good enough for you.”

Jisung rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “You’re more than good enough. They’re just jealous.”

Despite his protests, you could tell that Jisung was secretly pleased by how much his members cared. And while you weren’t quite ready to meet them yet, you couldn’t help but feel a little excited at the thought of being welcomed into his world—even if it meant dealing with seven overprotective Stray Kids members.

After weeks of relentless pestering, Jisung finally gave in. The Stray Kids members had made it clear that they weren’t going to drop the subject until they met you, and Jisung knew better than to fight a losing battle. So, one evening, he texted you with a mix of excitement and dread.

**Jisung:** So... the guys won’t stop bugging me about meeting you. I tried to hold them off, but they’re like a pack of wolves. What do you think? Are you up for it?

You stared at your phone, a nervous flutter in your chest. Meeting Jisung’s members was a big step, and while you were curious about the people who meant so much to him, the thought of facing eight incredibly talented and charismatic idols was more than a little intimidating. Still, you couldn’t deny that you were curious about them too.

**You:** I mean... I guess it’s inevitable, right? As long as they promise not to interrogate me too much, I’m in.

**Jisung:** Oh, they’re definitely going to interrogate you. But don’t worry, I’ll protect you. Mostly.

You laughed, shaking your head. **You:** Mostly? That’s not very reassuring.

**Jisung:** Trust me, you’ll be fine. You’re amazing, and they’re going to love you. Just... maybe brace yourself for a lot of chaos.

The day of the meeting arrived, and Jisung had arranged for you to come to the Stray Kids dorm after their practice. You stood outside the building, clutching a small bag of pastries you’d brought as a peace offering, and took a deep breath. Before you could second-guess yourself, the door swung open, and Jisung appeared, his face lighting up when he saw you.

“Hey,” he said, pulling you into a quick hug. “You ready for this?”

“Not even a little,” you admitted, laughing nervously. “But let’s do it anyway.”

He grinned and took your hand, leading you inside. The moment you stepped into the living room, all eyes turned to you. The members were scattered around the room, some on the couch, others on the floor, but they all froze when they saw you.

“Guys, this is Y/N,” Jisung announced, his voice a mix of pride and apprehension. “Y/N, this is... well, you know who they are.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, all at once, chaos erupted.

“Oh my god, it’s really her!” Felix exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

“Hi, I’m Hyunjin,” Hyunjin said, giving you a dramatic bow. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Did you really write *Whispers in the Dark*?” Jeongin asked, his eyes wide with awe. “That book destroyed me.”

“Okay, okay, give her some space,” Jisung said, stepping in front of you like a human shield. “Don’t scare her off before she even sits down.”

You laughed, holding up the bag of pastries. “I brought these as a peace offering. I figured you guys might be hungry after practice.”

“You’re already my favorite,” Changbin declared, grabbing the bag and peeking inside. “Oh, these look amazing.”

As the members dug into the pastries, the initial tension eased, and the room filled with lively chatter. They bombarded you with questions—about your books, your writing process, and how you and Jisung had met—but it was all so genuine and enthusiastic that you couldn’t help but feel at ease.

At one point, Chan leaned over to Jisung and whispered, “You’re so lucky. She’s perfect.”

Jisung grinned, his chest puffing with pride. “I know.”

The evening flew by in a blur of laughter and stories. The members took turns teasing Jisung, much to his embarrassment, but it was all in good fun. You quickly realized that this was just their way of showing affection, and you couldn’t help but admire how close they were.

As the night wound down, Jisung walked you to the door, his hand lingering in yours. “So... what did you think?” he asked, his voice soft.

“They’re amazing,” you said, smiling up at him. “A little overwhelming, but amazing. I can see why they mean so much to you.”

He smiled, his eyes warm. “Yeah, they’re my family. And now... you’re part of that too.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you squeezed his hand. “I’m glad.”

As you left the dorm, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging. Meeting Jisung’s members had been a big step, but it had also brought you closer to him—and to the world he called home. And as chaotic as it was, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

——

Almost a year had passed since Jisung first stumbled into your shared sanctuary, and in that time, your bond had only grown stronger. You’d shared countless moments together—laughing over burnt pancakes, staying up late talking about your dreams, and exploring the charming streets of your alternate universe. But there was one thing Jisung had never done: kiss you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. In fact, the thought crossed his mind more often than he cared to admit. But Jisung was a gentleman at heart, and he wanted everything to be perfect. He didn’t want to rush or pressure you, so he held back, content to simply be by your side.

That is, until Minho brought it up.

It was a rare quiet afternoon at the Stray Kids dorm. Jisung was lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone, when Minho plopped down beside him with a mischievous grin.

“So,” Minho began, his tone dripping with curiosity, “how’s Y/N?”

Jisung glanced at him, sensing trouble. “She’s great. Why?”

Minho shrugged, feigning innocence. “No reason. I was just wondering... have you kissed her yet?”

Jisung froze, his cheeks turning bright red. “W-what? That’s none of your business!”

Minho raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying Jisung’s flustered reaction. “Almost a year together, and you haven’t even kissed her? Jisung, what are you waiting for? A written invitation?”

“It’s not that simple,” Jisung muttered, sinking into the couch. “I don’t want to mess things up. What if she’s not ready? What if I’m bad at it? What if—”

“What if you stop overthinking and just go for it?” Minho interrupted, rolling his eyes. “Y/N clearly adores you. Trust me, she’s not going to run away if you kiss her.”

Jisung groaned, covering his face with a pillow. “Why are you like this?”

Minho laughed, patting Jisung on the shoulder. “Because someone has to knock some sense into you. Now go. Be the dorky gentleman she fell for, but maybe add a little romance, huh?”

Later that evening, Jisung teleported to the alternate universe, his mind still racing from Minho’s words. You were in the kitchen, humming to yourself as you stirred a pot of soup. The sight of you—so effortlessly beautiful and at ease—made his heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” he said, leaning against the doorway.

You turned and smiled at him. “Hey yourself. Hungry? I made your favorite.”

He nodded, but his usual enthusiasm was replaced with a nervous energy. As the two of you sat down to eat, he couldn’t stop replaying Minho’s advice in his head. *Just go for it. Be romantic.*

After dinner, you moved to the living room, where a cozy fire crackled in the fireplace. You curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, and Jisung sat beside you, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you said, tilting your head to look at him. “Everything okay?”

Jisung took a deep breath, his heart pounding. “Yeah, I just... I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?”

He hesitated, then turned to face you, his eyes searching yours. “About us. About how much you mean to me. And about how I’ve been too scared to do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you realized what he was saying. “Jisung...”

Before you could say more, he leaned in, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch was warm and tentative, as if he was giving you every opportunity to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss.

It was everything Jisung had imagined and more—sweet, tender, and filled with all the emotions he’d been holding back. When he finally pulled away, his cheeks were flushed, and he couldn’t stop the goofy grin spreading across his face.

“Wow,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “That was... wow.”

You laughed, your own cheeks tinged with pink. “Took you long enough.”

He groaned, burying his face in your shoulder. “Don’t tease me. I was nervous, okay?”

You wrapped your arms around him, resting your head against his. “Well, for the record, it was worth the wait.”

Jisung smiled, his heart swelling with happiness. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he’d gotten something exactly right. And as the fire crackled and the night stretched on, he knew this was just the beginning of a new chapter in your story—one he couldn’t wait to write with you.

Over the next few months, your relationship with Jisung deepened in ways you hadn’t imagined possible. The kiss had opened a door to a new level of intimacy, and every moment you spent together felt like a treasure. Here are some of the most memorable moments that defined your journey:

The Rainy Day Adventure

One afternoon, as you both lounged in the cozy house, a sudden downpour began. The rain tapped against the windows, creating a soothing rhythm. Jisung, ever the spontaneous one, grabbed your hand and pulled you outside.

“What are you doing?!” you laughed, shielding your face from the rain.

“Living a little!” he shouted back, spinning you around in the middle of the empty street. The two of you danced and splashed in puddles like kids, completely drenched but utterly carefree. When you finally ran back inside, shivering and laughing, Jisung wrapped a blanket around you and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, grinning up at him.

“Yeah, but you love it,” he replied, his eyes sparkling.

The Late-Night Confession

One night, after a long day in your respective universes, you both teleported to the house at the same time. Exhausted, you collapsed onto the couch, your head resting on Jisung’s shoulder. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator.

“Can I tell you something?” Jisung asked, his voice breaking the silence.

You looked up at him, curious. “Of course.”

He hesitated, then said, “I used to think I didn’t deserve something like this—like you. Being an idol, it’s easy to feel like you’re always performing, even when you’re not on stage. But with you... I feel like I can just be me. And that means more to me than anything.”

Your heart ached at his vulnerability. “Jisung, you deserve every good thing in the world. And I’m so glad I get to be part of your life.”

He smiled, pulling you closer. “Me too.”

The First Fight

Not every moment was perfect. One day, after a particularly stressful week, you and Jisung had your first real argument. It started over something trivial—a missed text message—but quickly escalated into a heated discussion about balancing your relationship with your individual lives.

“I just feel like you don’t understand how hard it is for me to juggle everything,” Jisung said, his voice tinged with frustration.

“And I feel like you don’t understand how much I worry about you,” you shot back.

The fight ended with both of you storming off to different rooms. But after a few hours of cooling down, Jisung found you in the kitchen, where you were absently stirring a cup of tea.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, leaning against the doorway. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like your feelings don’t matter.”

You looked up at him, your anger melting away. “I’m sorry too. I know you’re doing your best.”

He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around you, his chin resting on your head. “We’ll figure it out, okay? Together.”

The Quiet Moments

Not every moment was grand or dramatic. Some of your favorite memories were the quiet ones—reading side by side on the couch, Jisung humming as he cooked breakfast, or simply holding hands as you walked through the city. Those moments reminded you that love wasn’t always about big gestures; sometimes, it was about simply being together.

As the months turned into years, your relationship with Jisung became a tapestry of these moments—big and small, joyful and challenging. And through it all, one thing remained constant: the unwavering love and connection you shared, a bond that transcended universes and defied all odds.

——

The day of your one-year anniversary arrived, and Jisung had been acting suspiciously secretive all week. He’d been texting more than usual, disappearing for hours at a time, and even shooing you out of the house in the alternate universe with vague excuses like, “I just need to... uh, reorganize the bookshelf. Yeah.”

You played along, pretending not to notice his nervous energy, but you couldn’t help feeling excited. Jisung wasn’t exactly subtle, and you had a feeling he was planning something special.

When the day finally came, Jisung teleported to your apartment in your normal universe, looking unusually dressed up in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans. He held out his hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Ready?” he asked.

“For what?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll see,” he said, grinning.

He led you to a rooftop garden you’d never been to before. It was breathtaking—strings of fairy lights crisscrossed overhead, casting a warm glow over the space. A small table was set up in the center, complete with candles, flowers, and a bottle of champagne. Soft music played in the background, and the city skyline stretched out before you, twinkling like a sea of stars.

“Jisung... this is incredible,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I wanted to make tonight special. Because you’re special.”

The two of you sat down to a delicious meal, laughing and reminiscing about the past year. Jisung told you stories about his early days as a trainee, and you shared your own memories of writing your first book. It was a perfect evening, filled with love and laughter.

After dinner, Jisung handed you a small, beautifully wrapped box. “Happy anniversary,” he said, his voice soft.

You opened it carefully, your breath catching when you saw what was inside. It was a delicate silver bracelet, with a tiny charm shaped like a book. Engraved on the back were the words, *“To my favorite story.”*

“Jisung...” you said, your eyes filling with tears. “It’s beautiful.”

He took the bracelet and fastened it around your wrist, his fingers lingering on your skin. “You’re my favorite story, Y/N. Every chapter with you is better than the last.”

Later that night, back in the alternate universe, the two of you sat by the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket. The air between you was charged with a new kind of energy, a quiet understanding that something had shifted.

Jisung reached out, his hand cupping your cheek as he leaned in. His kiss was slow and deliberate, filled with all the love and longing he’d been holding back. You responded in kind, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

The alternate universe’s house was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, the curtains gently swaying in the breeze from the open window. You and Jisung had spent the evening wrapped in each other’s arms, talking and laughing, but as the hours passed, the air between you shifted. There was a new kind of tension, a quiet understanding that something deeper was unfolding.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the sheets, when Jisung walked over and knelt in front of you. His eyes, usually so full of mischief and energy, were soft and serious as they met yours.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I need you to know something.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding as you waited for him to continue.

“You mean everything to me,” he said, his hands resting on your knees. “Not just because of the soulmate mark or because of this universe. You mean everything because of who you are. Because you make me feel like I can be myself, completely and without fear.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to cup his face. “Jisung, you’re my whole world. More than I can ever put into words.”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment before he stood up, pulling you with him. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space between you. His lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, as if he was savoring the moment. But when you responded, kissing him back with equal intensity, the hesitation melted away.

The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, filled with all the love and longing you’d both been holding back. His hands moved to the small of your back, pressing you closer as your fingers tangled in his hair. Every touch, every breath, felt like a promise—a promise to love, to protect, to cherish.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

He smiled, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he leaned in again, his lips trailing soft kisses along your jawline and down your neck. Your breath hitched as his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, his touch gentle but confident. He pulled it over your head, his eyes never leaving yours as he took in the sight of you.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, but before you could respond, he kissed you again, his hands exploring every inch of your skin. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as he slowly undressed you, each movement filled with reverence.

When you were both bare, he laid you down on the bed, his body hovering over yours. His eyes locked with yours, and in that moment, you felt completely and utterly seen. There was no pretense, no masks—just the two of you, raw and vulnerable.

He kissed you again, his hands roaming your body as if he was memorizing every curve, every freckle. His lips trailed down your chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You gasped as he reached the sensitive skin of your stomach, your fingers tightening in his hair.

“Jisung,” you breathed, your voice barely audible.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire but still filled with love. “I’ve got you,” he whispered. “I’ll always have you.”

When he finally entered you, it was slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. The connection between you was overwhelming, a perfect blend of physical and emotional intimacy. Every movement, every touch, was filled with love and trust, a silent promise that this was more than just passion—it was forever.

As the world outside faded away, it was just the two of you, lost in each other. The stars outside the window seemed to shine brighter, as if they were bearing witness to this moment, this unbreakable bond between soulmates.

When it was over, you lay together, your bodies intertwined, your breaths slowly returning to normal. Jisung pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his arms tightening around you.

“You’re my forever,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

You smiled, your heart overflowing with love. “And you’re mine.”

And as you drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, you knew that this was just the beginning of a lifetime of moments like this—moments of love, of trust, of unshakable connection.

The morning after your anniversary, you woke up to the soft sound of Jisung humming. The sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. You turned to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, already dressed and looking at you with a soft smile.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice gentle.

“Good morning,” you replied, stretching lazily. “What are you doing up so early?”

He shrugged, his smile turning mischievous. “I wanted to make you breakfast. But I also didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

You sat up, pulling the blanket around you. “Breakfast, huh? Should I be worried?”

He laughed, standing up and offering you his hand. “Come on, let’s find out.”

In the kitchen, Jisung had laid out an impressive spread—pancakes, fresh fruit, and even a pot of your favorite tea. You raised an eyebrow, impressed.

“Did you actually make all this?” you asked, teasing.

“Hey, I’m full of surprises,” he said, pretending to be offended. “Besides, I had some help from a certain someone who may or may not have left me a recipe.”

You laughed, sitting down at the table. “Well, it looks amazing. Thank you.”

As you ate, the conversation flowed easily, filled with the kind of comfortable banter that had become second nature to you. Jisung told you about a new song he was working on, and you shared your latest writing project. It was a perfect morning, filled with laughter and love.

After breakfast, Jisung suggested spending the day exploring the alternate universe’s city. The two of you wandered through the streets, hand in hand, stopping at little shops and cafes along the way. It was a rare treat to be able to go out without worrying about paparazzi or fans, and you soaked in every moment.

At one point, you stumbled upon a small park with a beautiful fountain in the center. Jisung pulled you over to it, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Make a wish,” he said, handing you a coin.

You closed your eyes, thought for a moment, and tossed the coin into the water. When you opened your eyes, Jisung was watching you with a curious smile.

“What did you wish for?” he asked.

“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” you replied, teasing.

He pouted, but then his expression softened. “I think I can guess.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what’s that?”

He leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “That we’ll always have this. That no matter what happens, we’ll always find our way back to each other.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached up to cup his cheek. “You’re pretty good at guessing.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I know you better than you think.”

As the stars began to appear in the sky, you and Jisung sat together, wrapped in a blanket and lost in your own world. The future was uncertain, but one thing was clear—you were in this together, no matter what.

——

Despite Jisung’s initial reluctance, the Stray Kids members eventually wore him down and convinced him to let them spend a day with you in your normal universe. Jisung had been hesitant, worried about how the group dynamic might overwhelm you, but he finally gave in after relentless teasing and pleading from the members. “Fine,” he said, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. “But if any of you embarrass me, I’m kicking you out of the dorm.”

The day started early, with Jisung picking you up from your apartment. He was unusually jittery, pacing back and forth as you grabbed your bag. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, his voice tinged with both excitement and anxiety. “They’re... a lot.”

You laughed, slipping your hand into his. “I think I can handle it. Besides, I’ve been curious about meeting them properly.”

The plan was to meet the group at a popular café in Seoul, one that was known for being idol-friendly and discreet. When you arrived, the members were already there, seated around a large table and chatting animatedly. The moment Jisung walked in with you, the room erupted.

“Finally!” Changbin exclaimed, standing up and waving dramatically. “We were starting to think Jisung was hiding you forever.”

“Y/N!” Felix called out, his bright smile lighting up the room. “Over here!”

You waved back, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement as Jisung led you to the table. Introductions were quick—most of them already knew who you were, thanks to Jisung’s endless stories—and soon you were seated between Jisung and Hyunjin, who immediately started asking you about your latest book.

“I read it in one sitting,” Hyunjin said, his eyes wide with enthusiasm. “The way you write about emotions—it’s like you’re inside my head.”

You laughed, flattered. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

The café visit was just the beginning. From there, the group decided to make a day of it, dragging you along to various spots around Seoul. First was a visit to a popular arcade, where Jeongin challenged you to a game of air hockey. (“I’m not going easy on you just because you’re Jisung’s soulmate,” he declared, only to lose spectacularly.)

Next was a spontaneous karaoke session in a private room, where the members took turns performing their favorite songs. Jisung, of course, stole the show with an impromptu rap he’d written about you, much to your embarrassment and the group’s delight.

“Y/N, you’re inspiring lyrics now!” Chan teased, clapping Jisung on the back. “Watch out, or he’ll write a whole album about you.”

Jisung’s cheeks turned pink, but he didn’t deny it. “Maybe I will,” he muttered, earning a round of cheers from the group.

Amid the chaos, there were quieter moments too. At one point, Minho pulled you aside while the others were busy arguing over which song to sing next. “Can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

You nodded, following him to a quieter corner of the room. “Is everything okay?”

Minho smiled, shaking his head. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I just wanted to say... you’re good for him, you know. Jisung. He’s happier when he’s with you.”

The comment caught you off guard, and you felt a warm rush of gratitude. “Thank you, Minho. That means a lot.”

He shrugged, his usual playful demeanor returning. “Don’t tell him I said that, though. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You laughed, promising to keep it between the two of you.

By late afternoon, the group was starving, so they decided to hit up a famous barbecue spot. The meal was a feast, with plates of meat, kimchi, and banchan covering the table. Jisung, ever the gentleman, made sure your plate was always full, even as the others playfully fought over the last piece of samgyeopsal.

“Y/N, you have to try this,” Felix said, handing you a piece of grilled pork wrapped in lettuce. “It’s life-changing.”

You took a bite, nodding in agreement. “Okay, you’re right. This is amazing.”

As the meal went on, the conversation turned to stories about Jisung—embarrassing ones, of course. “Remember that time he tripped on stage during rehearsal?” Seungmin said, grinning. “He tried to play it off like it was part of the choreography.”

Jisung groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Why do you guys do this to me?”

You laughed, squeezing his hand. “Don’t worry. I think it’s cute.”

As the sun began to set, the group reluctantly decided to call it a day. The members hugged you goodbye, each of them promising to hang out again soon. “You’re officially one of us now,” Chan said, giving you a warm smile. “Welcome to the family.”

Jisung walked you home, his hand firmly in yours. “So... what did you think?” he asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.

You smiled up at him. “I think they’re amazing. A little overwhelming, but amazing. I can see why they mean so much to you.”

He sighed in relief, pulling you into a hug. “I’m glad you had fun. And... thanks for putting up with them. They can be a lot.”

You laughed, resting your head against his chest. “They’re your family. And now they’re mine too.”

As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realized just how much your life had changed since meeting Jisung. It wasn’t just him—it was his world, his friends, his family. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

But then, it happened.

A fan recognized Jisung. Then another. And another. Within minutes, a crowd had gathered, phones out, cameras flashing. You tried to stay calm, but the situation escalated quickly. Someone snapped a photo of Jisung holding your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours. Another caught him leaning in to whisper something in your ear, his expression soft and intimate.

The photos went viral within hours.

The internet exploded. Your fans were thrilled, flooding your social media with messages of support and excitement. “Finally!” one comment read. “We always knew you’d find your soulmate!” But Jisung’s fans were... less kind. While some were happy for him, others lashed out, accusing you of being a distraction or questioning the authenticity of your relationship. The comments were relentless, and the pressure was overwhelming.

Jisung tried to shield you from the worst of it, but it was impossible to avoid. The constant scrutiny, the invasive questions, the speculation—it all became too much. You started having anxiety attacks, your chest tightening every time you opened your phone or stepped outside. Jisung, who had battled social anxiety himself, recognized the signs immediately.

“We need to get out of here,” he said one night, his voice firm but gentle. “Just for a little while. Until things calm down.”

You nodded, tears streaming down your face. “I can’t do this, Jisung. I can’t.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. “You don’t have to. We’ll figure it out together.”

The two of you teleported to the alternate universe, to the house that had always been your sanctuary. For a month, you disappeared from the world. No social media, no interviews, no public appearances. Just you and Jisung, finding solace in each other and the quiet life you’d built together.

During that time, Jisung kept in touch with Chan, who acted as a bridge between you and the outside world. “Y/N’s struggling,” Jisung explained during one of their calls. “She’s having social anxiety, and I know how bad that can be. I need to protect her.”

Chan understood. “Take all the time you need,” he said. “We’ll handle things on this end.”

The members were supportive, sending messages of encouragement and keeping the worst of the rumors at bay. But even with their help, the outside world felt like a distant, hostile place.

After a month, things began to calm down. The initial frenzy had died down, and while the comments and speculation hadn’t completely stopped, they were less overwhelming. You and Jisung spent hours talking about what to do next.

“We can’t hide forever,” you said one evening, sitting by the fireplace. “I don’t want to live in fear.”

Jisung nodded, his hand squeezing yours. “I don’t either. But we need to do this on our terms.”

Together, you decided to make an official statement. It was time to tell the world the truth—about your soulmate marks, about your relationship, and about the need for privacy.

The day of the announcement, you and Jisung sat side by side, holding hands as you recorded a video. It was short but heartfelt.

“Hi, everyone,” Jisung began, his voice steady. “We wanted to take a moment to address the rumors and share something important with you. Y/N and I... we’re soulmates. We discovered this almost two years ago, and it’s been the most incredible journey of our lives.”

You smiled, picking up where he left off. “Our relationship is something we’ve always cherished, and we’ve worked hard to protect it. But recently, things have gotten out of hand. The invasion of our privacy has been overwhelming, and it’s taken a toll on both of us.”

Jisung nodded, his expression serious. “We’re asking for your understanding and respect. We’re just two people trying to navigate life together, and we hope you can support us in a way that allows us to do that.”

The video ended with a simple message: “Thank you for your love and support. Please give us the space we need to be happy.”

The reaction was mixed but mostly positive. Your fans rallied behind you, flooding your social media with messages of love and support. Jisung’s fans, while still divided, began to come around, many of them expressing their respect for your honesty and vulnerability.

The Stray Kids members were the first to publicly support you, posting messages of encouragement and urging fans to respect your privacy. “Love is love,” Chan wrote. “Let’s give them the space they deserve.”

In the weeks that followed, you and Jisung slowly began to re-enter the world. You were more cautious, more intentional about what you shared and how you presented yourselves. But the weight of secrecy was gone, replaced by a sense of freedom and relief.

One evening, as you sat together in the alternate universe’s house, Jisung turned to you with a smile. “We made it through,” he said. “And we’re stronger because of it.”

You nodded, leaning into him. “Yeah, we are. And no matter what happens, we’ll always have this.”

As the fire crackled and the stars shone outside, you knew that this was just another chapter in your story—a story that was far from over.

[satellite-evans]

closure

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x ex!reader

Summary: you don't need Carlos' closure.

Word count: 2k+

Warnings: angst, based on the Taylor Swift song

A/N:

This my third fic for the folkmore series, and it is with none other than Carlos Sainz! This is my first time writing for him so I was quite nervous, please tell me what you think!

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

It arrives in your inbox at 2:17 AM, the timestamp almost mocking the stillness of the night. The world outside is quiet, the kind of silence that fills your room with its weight, pressing against your ribs as if the very air knows what’s coming.

The email subject line is simple.

Just wanted you to know.

For a moment, you just stare at it. The words are innocuous, almost casual, but your heart knows better. You’ve seen that phrase before—at least in the way it echoed in your mind, in the way you tried to convince yourself you’d be fine without any more explanations.

And for some reason, you already know what it’s about. You don’t need to open it to feel the heavy, familiar knot tightening in your stomach. The ache in your chest that had dulled over time, the one you had worked so hard to ignore, throbs with renewed intensity, as if it’s alive and remembering the shape of old wounds. It’s as though your body recognizes him before your mind even does, and it reacts accordingly—a reflex you can’t outrun.

Your hands tremble slightly, the familiar sensation of fear and longing mixing in your veins, but you can't bring yourself to look away. The old ache becomes a weight in your throat, too, and for a moment, you're almost paralyzed by the gravity of it. You know this isn’t just a message. This is a door opening, an invitation to face something you buried deep. But you click on it anyway, drawn in by something you can’t explain, a part of you still hoping that maybe—just maybe—this will be the thing that makes it all make sense.

I just wanted you to know I hope you're doing well. I know things ended messy between us, and I hate that. I really do. I never wanted to hurt you, and I know that I did.

I’m sorry for how I left. For not saying enough. For saying too much. For everything in between.

I hope you’re happy. I really do.

- Carlos.

The words stare back at you, flat on the screen, sterile and detached. They sit there like a sentence of finality, as if they’re not even meant for you, but for someone who doesn’t carry the weight of your history with him. It’s just an email—another digital scrap of text sent into the void of the night. But after everything, after all that’s passed, this is what he gives you? Does he think that you’re just a situation that needs to be handled? A string of hollow words with no breath behind them, no warmth, nothing that even remotely resembles the person you once knew. No, not even that. The person you thought you knew.

It was almost ironic how the shape of his name still spelled out pain. Every letter, every syllable, carried a weight that dug deep, as if each time you thought of him, the wound reopened. It was strange, how someone you once loved could still manage to hurt you, even in their absence. Everything about him—his words, his actions, even his silence—had caused so much damage that it was honestly a little concerning.

You hated him. No, despised him. The anger simmered under your skin like a constant burn, always just beneath the surface, ready to erupt. The audacity he had, the way he thought he could just walk away, leaving destruction in his wake—it was almost unbelievable. He was wrong in so many ways the day he broke up with you. The way it all went down, how he acted like it was the easiest thing in the world, how he twisted every word you’d said into something it wasn’t—it was wrong, all of it. And by the looks of it, he probably knew by now. He had to. The way time had passed, the way people talked, the way you’d changed—he had to know the damage he’d done.

Your mind replays the last time you saw him. You can still picture it so vividly—the way he had stood in the doorway of your apartment, arms crossed over his chest like a shield, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t read. He looked smaller somehow, the exhaustion wearing him down, hanging off of him like a second skin, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet he couldn't find it in himself to care about you anymore. The lines in his face were deeper, like time had been more unforgiving to him than you ever realized. The way his jaw clenched so tightly when you had begged him to just talk to you, that desperate plea falling from your lips like a prayer, but he wouldn’t listen. His silence had cut deeper than anything he could have said. The way he hadn’t looked back when he walked away. Not once. Not a single glance. Like you didn’t exist. That was when you realized he had put a distance between you two ages ago that you were finally seeing—a sea you were too tired to cross.

The door had clicked shut behind him with a finality that shattered you into pieces you weren’t sure you could ever put back together. That sound—the click of the lock—wasn’t just the end of a visit, but the end of everything. The end of any future you thought you’d have together. You didn’t just lose him in that moment. You lost the life you’d built around him. And you’ve been trying to rebuild ever since.

And now, months later, this. This email. A quiet, late-night message, sterile in its simplicity, like he was trying to offer a neat little bow to wrap up the wreckage he left behind. But there’s no ribbon to tie, no neatness to this. What he gave you wasn’t closure—it was a reminder that, for all his talk of wanting to make amends, he’s still incapable of meeting you where you need him.

You slam your laptop shut, too quickly, too harshly, as if the words might physically reach out and strangle you if you don’t. For a moment, your fingers linger on the lid, shaking, the intensity of your pulse drowning out the quiet hum of the city outside. The night has become suffocating, and you can’t tell if it’s because of the email, or because you’re finally confronting what you’ve been trying to ignore for so long. The pain hasn’t gone anywhere, and neither has the ache. It sits with you like an old friend, one you can’t seem to shake.

It’s almost laughable, really. You can’t help but chuckle bitterly to yourself as you stare at the screen. He thinks he’s giving you closure. That this carefully constructed email, this rehearsed apology, is supposed to fix something, to heal the rift that’s been eating away at you for months. That it will somehow mend the fractures in your heart as if it’s something that can be neatly patched up with a few well-chosen words. But the truth is, it doesn’t even come close. No, this isn’t closure. This isn’t even an attempt at healing—it’s just an afterthought, a last-ditch effort to clear his conscience without ever truly facing the damage he caused. And it’s almost insulting.

Closure isn’t an email at 2 AM, casually dropped into your life as though he’s just checking off a box. It isn’t a collection of words stripped of warmth, void of real feeling, written at a distance, with no regard for the time, or the place, or the person it’s supposed to reach. Closure would have been a conversation. A real one. A face-to-face moment where he would have stayed, where he would have stayed long enough to listen, to hear you, and not just walk away the moment it got hard. That would have been closure. But he didn’t stay. He left you behind with nothing but the echoes of your unanswered questions.

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you struggle to steady yourself. You take a deep breath, but it shudders on the way in, uneven and sharp. It feels like your lungs are betraying you, like they can’t hold the air in anymore, and you’re left gasping in the void between anger and heartache. Your throat is thick with unshed tears, but you refuse to let them fall. Not again. Not for him. You’ve cried enough tears for him already, enough for a lifetime. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this anymore, that you wouldn’t let him be the reason you hurt.

You want to reply. You want to scream, to let him know how deeply he’s failed you, how his absence is still an open wound, festering in the corners of your mind. You want to tell him that, even now, you still wake up in the middle of the night, expecting to hear his voice, expecting to feel the weight of his arm around your waist. You still reach for him in the dark, your fingers grasping at air, and you realize too late that he’s not there. You want to tell him that every time you see red—Ferrari red, that damn red, the color of his car, of everything he used to be to you—you feel like you might break all over again, like all the pieces you’ve tried to pick up and put together have shattered into even smaller bits.

But he's not Ferrari red anymore. He's Williams blue now. You’d probably be a new wrinkle in his life, a person who wouldn’t fit. Heck, you didn’t even fit when he was in Ferrari. You could answer him back, tell him you forgave him, that you both could be friends again. Maybe that would iron everything out nicely.

But you won’t. You won’t give him that satisfaction. You won’t give him the power to pull you back into this mess, into this space where you lose yourself every time you think about him. He doesn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve to let him keep doing this to you.

The frustration, the hurt, the unanswered questions—they all feel like they're swirling in a storm that won't quiet. You crawl into bed, pulling the blankets around yourself as if they could offer the protection your mind and heart desperately crave.

You are fine. Everything is fine. You had your beers, your occasional crying sessions, your candles. You were doing so much better without him. You had to.

It cut deep, knowing him, all the way to the bone. The breakup had been necessary. It had to be. You were healing, getting better, moving on. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

But the ache in your chest and the rapid, shallow breaths you couldn't control told a different story. It was one you knew the ending to but didn’t want to face. His email was oh so unnecessary, cruel even. He had broken up with you months ago, and yet here he was again, trying to reach back into your life. He shouldn’t have contacted you. He should’ve left you alone.

And you definitely should’ve stayed in bed.

Hatred and regret twisted inside of you, each trying to take the lead, but you were too exhausted to figure out which was winning. Still, you knew you had to respond.

Your gaze lingered on the laptop screen for what felt like hours, your mind scrambling for the right words, something that could strike him, something that would hurt, something that would linger with him forever the way he had lingered in your life. But nothing came.

Instead, what you found was something deeper—something far more painful.

Acceptance.

Acceptance was the true winner in the battle between your emotions. It was the thing you’d been running from, the thing you’d fought so hard to avoid. You had accepted it.

It was over.

So, with a steady hand, you typed the final words you’d ever send him and blocked his email so he could never contact you again.

"I don’t need your closure."

[myshadowsbackstage]

Repercussions | Suna x Reader.

Summary: Everything was fine until Rintarou decided to say that. And you get him, you really do, so you try to do him a favor. You're doing Rintarou a favor, so why does he feel like he wants to punch Atsumu anytime he sees you two together.

College! au, gn! reader, platonic! Atsumu, angst with a happy ending (I think). Inarizaki is a college team because why not.

W/c: 5,5k

a/n: Hello! I really hope you enjoy your reading. English isn't my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. Also, this is -literally- my first piece of fiction in like... at least 6 years, so any *constructive* feedback is highly appreciated.

You were doing your way to the kitchen when you heard him.

Suna and you went to a birthday party of a friend of yours, and at some point during the night you and him got separated. You went to play with some of your friends while he stayed talking to a group of guys he met that night that really seemed to like him. 

After dancing and fooling around you felt the need for a glass of water, so you went to the kitchen looking for something to satiate your thirst. 

You heard a masculine voice. "It's like once you start a relationship, any sense of freedom it's just gone". Laughter, and another voice "Like when they cling to your arm or something, and it's like, God, just let me breathe for once"

His voice. 

And you swear, a punch to the gut would have been less painful. Still, you didn't stop walking and went to the kitchen anyway. A sudden silence filled the room and that seemed to make the voices in your head louder. 

Should I say something? Confront him. Go away. Say something. How could you act like nothing happened? What the fuck do I say to that. I want to cry. I wanna scream. Punch him. Fucking punch him. How could I? How could he?

God, you were dizzy.

"Hey, y/n" His voice was shaking, you could almost see his face just by hearing him. Twisted in an uncomfortable grimace "Everything alright?"

"Yes" You didn't dare looking at his face, working on autopilot while taking a bottle of juice to serve yourself. 

"Cool... Cool, are you having fun? Do you need anything?" And that switched something inside of you because how could he dare to play dumb like that.

You looked him in the eye and seeing the unshed tears burning in your eyes finally shut him up.

"No, I'm fine"

Without wanting to spend another second in that place, you left the bottle on the counter, fighting not to squeeze the vase in your hand while you got away from that place.

But who were you fooling, you were never good at pushing your feelings away. You wore your heart on your sleeve. Even if you didn't want to, the tears escaped, so you just left the vase on a table on the way to the bathroom, praying for it to be empty.

In the kitchen, Suna stood up, not knowing what to do. The silence kept stretching, and he was a moment away from tearing his hair with his own hands.

What possessed him to say such a thing, he had no idea. He didn't mean it, of course he didn't mean it, but the guys were joking, and being received so easily by a group of people wasn't something that happened to Suna a lot, he just wanted to be a part of it.

But not at the expense of you. Never again at the expense of you. Seeing the betrayal in your eyes made him realize what a stupid thing left his mouth just to be seen as cool by a bunch of random guys whom he would probably never see again.

So he went after you.

He knew you enough to know that you would look for a quiet place to let loose, and considering that this was supposed to be a party, he knew there weren't a lot of places to do that, so he went for the most obvious place to go in this situation.

He knocked on the door three times. "Hey, y/n, are you there?" The music and laughter around the place almost didn't let him hear it, but there they were. Soft sniffles coming from the other side of the door. He kept knocking and calling your name a few times, until he thought that it would be better to let you have your space for a while before trying to do anything about it.

He came back to the kitchen, where the group was still dealing with the tension in the air. When they saw Suna's face, they gave up. 

"Hey, you okay?" Asked one of them.

"I think so... I don't know" Another tsked and awkwardly patted Suna's shoulder.

"Give them some time"

"Yeah" another interjected "They're gonna get over it in no time"

And if you asked him at that moment, he wouldn't have been able to pinpoint what it was. Maybe it was the look on your face when he saw you, the tears dwelling on your eyes, the way your voice strangled in an attempt not to waver, or your sniffles through the door, maybe the image of you, hiding in a bathroom sobbing all by yourself, or maybe that it was all his fault, but something snapped inside of him.

"No, you see? That's the problem. I don't have to wait for them to move on, I can't wait for them to move on. That's not the way you treat a partner. If you fuck up, then you make up for it, you don't get to continue your life as if nothing happened. I mean, if you really prefer to get away with being an asshole, and not suffer the consequences of that, rather than speaking to your partner, why the fuck do you have one in the first place?"

Most of the guys averted their eyes. Some were pretending to drink, while others suddenly picked an interest in the room's decoration, but not one of them could look Rintarou in the eye.

"Chill, dude, we we're just trying to–" 

"Save it"

After that, Suna got up and went wandering around the house, ignoring everyone and wondering  Now, what the fuck do I do now? 

He tried, he really tried, but his own body was reacting to the guilt, and he was sure his stomach were not gonna be able to handle another minute of being on your bad side, so he came back to the bathroom.

He could still hear you. Softer. Calmer. But still going. He knocked again.

"Y/n?" 

Silence.

"I know you probably don't want to see me right now, but... I really regret saying that, if you could let me...  Please, just hear me out, I can't–" Suna's own voice staggered "I can't bear to be like this. Please. Let me fix this"

The lock clicked, and the door barely opened. Enough to let him know that he could enter, but not enough to even see inside. He still pushed, and once inside, closed and locked the door again to not be disturbed.

Then he saw you.

Curled up, hugging your own knees, hiding your face in them while trying to control your breathing. Suna wanted to hold your hands, your face, touch in any way to reassure you. Somehow. However, he knew better. You barely let him inside, going straight to physical touch would be anything but the smart choice, so he put his back on the door and slid to the floor. Giving you some distance.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it. Really, I didn’t” Ashamed, he cast his eyes to the floor, picking the skin around his nails. “I just… the guys were joking, and I didn’t want to be left out like I always do, and I know it sounds absolutely dumb to use that as an excuse, because it is. But…” He crawled a little, getting closer, still not daring to touch you. “I promise, I love whenever you hug me, or take my arm, or anything, just anything really. I adore how you are so unapologetically you, and just show your love the way you want to, and I would have never accepted being your boyfriend if that weren’t the case, okay?” Just then he made his first attempt, putting his hands on your knees, caressing in little circles, and getting gradually closer to your head, aiming to take off your face from its hiding spot “Please, don’t do that. Don’t hide from me, I want to see your–”

“How am I supposed to believe that?” Suna went silent, and it was that which made you look up to him. “How am I supposed to believe that my boyfriend isn’t sick of me when he speaks like that so easily to a stranger? Was it because they wouldn’t snitch on you? They don’t know me, don’t own me anything, why would they tell me about it?”

“No, no, it wasn’t like that–”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am sure!”

Another silence filled the air. Both of you looking at each other’s faces, panting. Suna was the first to sigh, trying to lower the volume of his voice.

“You don’t believe me, I get it. Which is why I need you to look me in the eye when I say this” At that, he held your face, forcing eye contact “I did not mean it. Just wanted to belong to that shitty group for an hour, and it was one of the worst mistakes I have ever made, only surpassed by that time I chickened out on asking you on a date, so I had to watch fucking Omimi shooting his shot instead, thank God that really didn’t go anywhere, because I swear those were the worst six months of my life” You couldn’t help to laugh a little, remembering that messy time for you and your relationship with the Inarizaki team. “And now I got to be the person you should rely on, and I fuck it up.” Suna laughs humorlessly “Forgive me, please. I know it may be too much to ask, but give me the opportunity to show you I really care”

You fell back, away from his touch and wiped out your tears before answering. “I want to, I really want to, but Rin…” A nickname. Suna thought there might be hope after all “What guaranteed do I have of this not happening again? Hell, how do I know you won’t be trash mouthing me anytime we get separated?”

“I won’t”

“But how do I know that?”

“You’ll feel it”

“What are you talking about?” You were sure Suna hit himself in the head at some point during the last 10 seconds of your conversation, but then he took your hands, his grip was firm, a bit harsh even, desperate. 

“I’ll be the best boyfriend I can be, I’ll let you feel how important you are to me, you’ll feel how much I love you, and your hugs, and kisses, and pats, anything you give me. You’ll never doubt yourself again. You hear me?”

Part of you still was unsure about the situation, but Suna had that look on his face. The one where his eyes opened up just a little bit more, and his lips parted. Lowering all of his defenses to show that his intentions were true.

“Okay”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” At that, he couldn’t restrain himself anymore and enveloped you in a hug, caressing your hair with one of his hands, allowing you to rest on his chest, smelling that perfume you adored so much.

“I am not disappointing you again.”

Truth is, Suna was true to his word. After getting out of the bathroom, he spent the rest of the night with you, just talking, drinking a little bit, even dancing for a bit when you asked him to under the pretence of atoning for his sins.

However, something inside you still felt unsure. Suna swore up and down that something like that would never happen again, and it got you wondering, if something like that were to actually bother him one day, would he tell you?

Because it wasn’t a lie when you said he wasn’t the most touchy person before he got with you, and that was something you both knew. Part of you still thought that maybe, just maybe, part of what Suna said at the party was true, and he felt uncomfortable with you being glued to him any chance you got.

And since he did his part in showing you how much he cared for you, you decided to do him a favor.

You would do it gradually. Suna is a perceptive person, any abrupt change would startle him immediately, and you would also allow yourself some things. You wouldn’t compromise hugging while sleeping, or napping, you liked that way too much, but perhaps holding his hand when you were sitting at some table on campus wasn’t that necessary. Nor was holding his arms when you were watching movies, for a few scenes maybe, just not the whole thing. Hugging his back when he was cooking was kind of uncomfortable, but you still could do it while waiting for the water to boil whenever you made tea.

Yeah, you could do it. 

The smell of the gym was something you were long accustomed to. The humidity in the air by sweaty bodies jumping and running non stop was something that didn’t make you flinch anymore. Not that much, at least.

Suna and you were holding hands when you entered. Some of the guys were warming up, others chit chatting here and there. Atsumu was about to enter the court, ball already in his hands when he saw you.

“Y/n!”

“Tsumu!” You let go of your boyfriend’s hand and run to hug your best friend. Atsumu and you used to be aware of each other, seeing one another on campus a few times, but you didn’t get close until you started your thing with Suna, when your company during practice became part of the routine. At the beginning, it was a bit awkward, you could tell Atsumu didn’t like your presence very much, thinking you were going to be a distraction for the middle blocker, but if anything, Suna wanted to impress you, so he stopped lacking off any chance he got, and suddenly Atsumu thought that maybe having you there wasn’t so bad after all. He started being nicer to you and the rest was history, you two connected in a way you haven’t with any other person in university.

“You okay? How’s Sunarin treating you? Had he done something to punch him?” You laughed, not letting go of him.

“Sorry, but you’ll have to keep waiting”

“Damn, when is the universe giving me an opportunity to smack the guy?” You heard Suna letting go of a sigh at Atsumu’s antics.

“If anything happens, I’ll let you know”

“Please”

You let go of him and went to your usual spot on the bench. The guys started practice and you used the time to read.

This was all part of your routine. The guys knew you would always be there during practice , and since you would be sitting in silence, without distracting any of the guys, the coach allowed it. Every break you would seize the opportunity to go and pamper your boyfriend, or even better, pester Atsumu. Neither the guys, nor Suna said anything about it, you didn’t want to let them know. To let him know.

Two weeks pass by, and something in the back of Suna’s mind starts to nag at him. He can’t tell what it is, but there is definitely something different between you two. You keep accompanying him to practice, he stills waits for you at the station so you can go to class together, you two still wait for the other, depending on who finish class later that day, you two still go to each other’s houses and sleep hugging each other, you still talk, and message the other when you’re not together, then what is it?

You two enter the gym, and before he can process it, you let go of him to go say hi to Atsumu. When he sees you two, his stomach does something. He knows it’s not jealousy, because he would trust his life to you, and even if he would never say it out loud, the truth is, he trusts Atsumu too, he knows nothing romantic would ever happen between the two of you. So why? Why does he feel so aware of the way your arms are wrapped around each other, noticing how you just don’t let go, which of course you don’t, you never do, you love too much to do that, that was one of the reasons he fell in love with you in the first place. That never ending love that made everyone around you feel seen.

He doesn’t have the energy to keep thinking about it, he doesn’t want to, so he just puts out his phone and scrolls on social media while you talk to Atsumu on the court, waiting for practice to officially start. You don’t get to see Atsumu that much outside of practice, so he doesn’t intend to ruin that for you. Not now, not during breaks. Not last week, not this week, and he doesn’t do it either the next week. He just takes his phone and sets his eyes on the screen, nothing but the screen. He knows if he allows himself to go with any of the guys, he would inevitably see the two of you, and if he sees you, then he has to think about what makes him so… he doesn’t even know what he is feeling right now, a sense of loss he doesn’t know where is coming from, that started only when he was in practice, but 3 days ago, it started to plague his mind during the rest of the day, and he can’t bear to feel any of that.

When it comes to you, the truth is, you don’t realize what you’re doing. In your mind, your plan to give Suna his space is going on with flying colors. He has not said anything, and looks as calm as ever, so you must be doing it right. The problem is, you love to be touchy, you just can’t help it, you love to hold and be held, give and receive, you need it. And if your body can’t have your boyfriend, then somebody else needs to fill that need.

Osamu does realize it though. So does Kita, and Aran, and Ginjima, and the whole team really. 

Yes, even Atsumu.

He hasn’t asked about it, because he knows that if something bothers you that much, you would tell him, but lately things seems to have spiraled in this weird setting where the moment you step on the gym, Suna ceases to exist, and he looks absolutely unbothered by it, burying himself in his phone, and not speaking with anyone on the team. Even the coach went to Kita asking if everything was alright, or if he should intervene. Shinsuke reassured him that they would handle the situation.

“How’s it going?”

“Nothing”

“Should we intervene?”

“I’m not sure” Atsumu replied. Osamu was across from him, arms crossed, pretending to look at the court while actually having an eye on Suna, who was playing something on his phone while you were in the bathroom.

“It’s been almost three weeks”

“I know, but I’m not sure how to approach it. They hadn’t told me anything about it”

“Well, ask, then.” 

Atsumu growled. “It’s not that easy”

“Yes, it is”

“You do it, then”

“Okay, but what if…” At that, Atsumu looked at his brother, interested. “You talk to y/n, and I go talk to Rin, how’s that?” Atsumu sighed, thinking about it.

“Okay”

Another three days pass by before the perfect moment to have that conversation appears. Coach called for a short break, yet Osamu noticed how he picked up a call and after asking who was he walking to, his face changed and he went away for a bit of privacy. Surely the call would take a bit of time. He sees Atsumu talking to you on a bench, while you play absentmindedly with his hair. Atsumu feels the drilling look of his brother and as soon as Osamu gets his brother’s attention, he makes a quick nod at Suna and a thumbs up. Atsumu gives a quick wink at his brother, acknowledging the situation, and as Osamu makes his way to Rin, he sees how Atsumu takes your hand and guides you to a quieter corner of the gym.

“Hey”

“Hey” Suna doesn’t take his eyes away from the screen.

“How’s it going?”

“Good. You?” Osamu laughs and nudges the middle blocker.

“Nah, don’t bullshit me, I know you better than that and you know it”

For the first time in what feels like forever, Rintarou takes his eyes away from the phone. “I don’t know”

“You don’t know?” Osamu was at the verge of teasing him, but as soon as he sees the troubled look on his friend, he decides against it.

“Honestly, I don’t know, it’s just…”

Osamu tries to help him, tentatively. “Does it have to do with y/n?” Suna looked down.

“Yeah” There was silence for a moment. Osamu didn’t dare press any further. “I… I really don’t know how to talk about this, everything seems fine, but… but it doesn’t feel fine. It’s… something’s been off for a while, and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Haven’t you tried to talk with them about it?”

“No. I mean… It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that… I don’t know what would I say to them. ‘Hey, I feel you’re mad at me, even though you act the same as always’ doesn’t seem to cut it” Osamu plays with his fingers, wanting to play dumb as much as he can.

“I mean, if it has you feeling like this even at practice, maybe they haven’t really been acting the same as always.” Suna hums and Osamu decides he may need to pick a bit deeper if he wants to get something out of Rin. “Does this have to do with my brother?”

Rintarou sighs and puts his phone aside, putting his feet on the same table as his, and letting his elbows rest on his knees. “Is it that obvious?”

“You want me to answer that honestly?” They both laugh softly, and Suna seems to relax for a bit, knowing Osamu wouldn’t judge him for being honest.

“Yes, it has to do with Atsumu, but at the same time… no? Ugh, I don’t even know what I’m saying”

“Tsumu, what are you doing?”

“Just wanted to have a conversation without any monkey interrupting us” You would have laughed, but the implications of that sentence put you on some kind of edge.

“A conversation? Atsumu, is everything alright?” 

“I don’t know, you tell me” There is a beat of silence, the confusion written all over your face.

“What?”

“God, I didn’t want to ask like this but… I can tell something has been bothering you, and you know I don’t like to pry, and I trust you would tell me if anything serious is going on, but I know there is something you aren’t telling me, or anyone for that matter. What is it?” You put on a facade a second to late, he noticed the way you tried to evade his gaze before giving him a little smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Yes, you do”

And it was the look on his eyes. The way his voice was so assertive without being accusatory. Not judging, not attacking, just stating a fact. And it could have been any other of the guys, you would have kept pretending, but this was Atsumu. Atsumu who managed to win you even after giving you the cold shoulder the first time he saw you. Atsumu who would always make sure you were feeling comfortable and welcomed anywhere as long as he was present. Atsumu who would take your side anytime you had a fight with Suna even if he knew you were in the wrong just because you needed the support. This was your friend.

“It feels like he’s getting all the attention” Getting those words out of his mouth felt as if rocks made their way slowly from Suna’s stomach to his mouth. He felt absolutely embarrassed. “In private I still get the hugs, and… that stuff, but whenever we’re here it’s just… I become a background character or something, a fucking npc or whatever”

“Does this happen only with Atsumu?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think so, even if he’s busy they manage to be with someone else, being all touchy and fuck, it sounds so shitty, but I swear, it doesn’t bother that they are doing it, it’s just…” The sentence hung up in the air, but Osamu got perfectly what  Rintarou was trying to say.

It was messy, but he knew his friend enough to know he would rather drink a bottle of vinegar in one go before admitting that he just wanted physical touch.

“When was your last fight?”

“Our last fight?

“Yeah, or a discussion, anything really”

“Uh… I don’t know, like three months, maybe”

“What was it about?”

“It was about…” Osamu looked at Suna’s face, trying to recall when was the last time you had an actual fight and not a discussion about what show you would be watching before sleeping, and he could swear he saw the exact moment the gears in his friend’s mind started to work. “Motherfucker”

“What is it?”

“That fucking party” Osamu waited “We got separated, I was mingling with a bunch of guys, we were just talking, but they started speaking about how annoyed they felt at their partners sometimes, and…stupid me, just because I wanted to say something, I basically said that I would get annoyed by them hanging onto me any chance, or something like that. Doesn’t matter really.” Suna sighed, “Thing is, they heard me.” Osamu stayed there, suddenly very aware that they were supposed to still be in practice and praying to all the gods for the coach not to come back yet. Not when the conversation got that serious. “I apologize, we spoke about it, I told them I didn’t mean it, I just wanted to… participate, I guess.” Another moment of silence, Suna’s gaze glued to the floor “Now that I think about it, this has been going on ever since”

“I see…”

“You’re not gonna say anything else?”

“I want to say a lot of things, but most of them aren’t very nice, and ultimately, I think you already know them” Suna let out a bitter laugh.

“I guess you’re right”

They both let another moment pass, settling their emotions.

“Well, at least you solved the mystery, now you can say you want their attention without looking like you are constipated”

“I did not look like that”

“Yes, you did, but it’s okay, because now you have an actual argument to backup that feeling”

“I guess… Fucking Atsumu, getting all of the attention”

“Of course, you know he would never reject them”

“You think y/n told him anything? He seems pretty oblivious about it” For Suna’s sake, Osamu chose not to point out that, in fact, Rintarou hasn’t looked at anything his teammates has been doing for the past weeks. 

“Judging by his expression, I think he found out about 5 seconds ago” Rintarou followed the gaze of Osamu and found Atsumu holding both of your hands. He couldn’t see your face, but he could see Atsumu’s clenched jaw, and his overall tense posture.

Suna sighed again “Considering this may be my final moments, just so you know, you were always my favorite Miya” Osamu lets out a laugh so deep, it reverberates throughout the gym, gaining the attention of some of the members as the coach came back.

“I already knew that”

“Okay, guys, sorry for the tardiness, let’s come back, come on!”

Both guys got up, and before entering the court, Osamu squeezed Suna’s shoulder.

“I’m here whatever happens, okay? Don’t forget that”

Practice finished with… a sort of tension. Suna could tell Atsumu was trying to pretend everything was normal, but he has always been shit at acting, so every person in the gym could tell something was up with him, while Osamu was the only one ignoring his twin’s antics and actually acting like everything was fine. To Suna, that made the situation even more disturbing.

Once the coach signaled the end of practice, Suna almost ran for his things. When he got out of the lockers, he saw Atsumu talking to you, doing gestures with his hands and moving his mouth at a speed that made Suna dizzy even through the distance. When Atsumu saw Rintarou, he stopped abruptly, making you turn away and give him a tight smile. If he wasn’t so nervous already he would have burst his ass laughing at Atsumu’s cartoonish ways.

While he made his way to you, Atsumu gave you a quick hug and just a wave to Rintarou as he made his way to his brother.

“Do you want to go for some ice cream?” He asked suddenly. You looked at him a little confused, yet seeing his face, a sort of mutual understanding passed through both of you.

“I would love to”

Shyly, you extended your hand. He took it, intertwining your fingers, and giving a soft squeeze. 

As you walked to your favorite ice cream shop, the streets seemed to have a little more color, the air felt a little more fresher, the neighbourhood was a little bit quieter.

“Rin…”

“Yes?”

“I’d like to talk to you”

“I’d like that too” Both of you squeeze the other’s hand “Would you like to begin?”

“Yes.” He gave you your time. “I know I haven’t been the best to you lately, I’ve been acting weirdly, and I know you noticed, and we just haven’t addressed the situation, and god, I hate we let it get to this point. We should’ve… I should’ve talked to you sooner” Suna nodded his head a little, showing he was listening “To be honest… I’ve been feeling insecure because… well, I… You…”

“Y/n” He interrupted softly “Does this have to do with what I said at that party?” You let the air you were holding out, relieved that he was willing to address the situation.

“Yes.”

“Okay” Suna kept quiet again, waiting for you to elaborate from there.

“To be honest, I still feel insecure about it. I know you told me, and even insisted that you didn’t mean it, and whatnot, but it made me think perhaps there were times where you didn’t want to be touched all the time, but you didn’t tell me just so you wouldn’t hurt my feelings. And Rin, I would hate to make you feel uncomfortable, or that you need to suck up with things you don’t like just for my sake. I thought… I wanted to do you a favor by giving you space, because I know that is something you appreciate.”

Suna bit his lip, nodding “I’m sorry”

“What for?”

“Because you shouldn’t be feeling like this. I told you that day I would make you feel appreciated and it looks like I failed again. Even worse, I knew there was something, I didn’t talk to you about it sooner ‘cause I haven’t figured it out yet, if you had asked me before, I wouldn’t have known what to say. But I knew there was something, and maybe I should have tried to figure this out with you, not wait for it to be something so big, and drag you through this feeling for so long.” At this point, Suna stopped walking and took both of your hands, facing you. “I’ve been such a shitty boyfriend, and I hate it.”

“Don’t say that”

“But it’s true, isn’t it?” He held your face with one of his hands, tender, while the other held your hands firmly “I love so much, and you let me show it to you any way I want. I always thought that I would do the same for you, and I’ve been doing anything but. Just stop this. I want it. I want all of you. Hughes, kisses, pats, cuddles, everything. I’m sorry it took me losing that to appreciate it, I really am. So, please, if it’s something you want to give me, if you are still willing to give it to me… I would really appreciate that.” In that last sentence, Rintarou’s voice broke a bit, and it was all that it took for you to slide your arms around him, giving gentle caresses on his head, encouraging him to nuzzle in your neck.

“I would love to, Rin” You stayed there for a bit, just holding each other. Drinking on that moment of intimacy at plain sight.

“I don’t deserve you”

“Oh, stop it” You let go, laughing. He gave you a little yet relaxed smile in return. Everything seemed to fall into place again. “C’mon now” You took one of his hands, and started walking again “I really could do with some ice cream right now.”

[ryanlockheart]

sydney couldn't have imagined his whole world would be turned upside down the second maddox made his way into his life, but he would forever be grateful. they were kindred spirits, fated by the stars above or whatever force was at play. sydney would do whatever it took to keep them together, to keep them both happy — and he was sure that maddox knew that. "i was hoping you'd say that," the raven-haired male hummed. "i mean, i'm the real winner here, but 'm glad you see it that way." he didn't mind being someone's prized possession; sydney loved being showered in affection and love... and he was sure that maddox would do just that. they could be as raunchy and filthy as they both wanted to, but, at the end of the night, they'd come home and fall asleep next to each other... and they'd wake up in even more love than the day before. "i'll keep that in mind, daddy," sydney said with a giggle. his thumbs brushed up against maddox's nipples, a cheeky grin twisted up on the corners of his lips. "when you've had a bad day, and you need to unwind, i'm gonna get dressed up real slutty for you. i'm gonna get you a beer, and then i'm gonna sit at your feet and show you how much i love 'em, how much i love you. and you'll forget all about your troubles, won't you?" he went on with his little fantasy, soft digits running all over maddox's chiseled body. he couldn't keep his hands to himself, and he wouldn't ever be able to — sydney knew himself well enough to know it was going to be impossible. "that sounds like heaven, daddy. need you to show them the ropes, need you to teach them how to please a needy little cockslut like me. and then they'll have their fun with me, and god, will i make sure they love it. they're gonna be so addicted to this pussy, they'll never know what hit 'em," he whispered. "feet, cock, piss, cum, spit... they'll be putting me to good use, and you'll be getting off to the whole thing, daddy. you're gonna love the show." he giggled to himself softly. he moved closer to maddox, their chests pressed against each other. he nuzzled his face in the curve of the younger male's neck. he breathed in his masculine musk as his lips sucked at his tanned skin. the whole world could've been watching them, and nothing would've ever deterred him from pleasing maddox. sydney was completely devoted to maddox — anyone could see it. "'m gonna be soaked, daddy. all that piss, all that cum... i'm gonna be in heaven... and you? you'll be knocking me up like you fuckin' should. god, can already see you pressin' my face right up in their asses, makin' me go crazy," he breathed out softly. "sounds like perfect night, daddy. 'm never gonna wanna stop being your little cum dumpster. can even keep track with all of their loads on my ass. won't stop 'til i'm in the double digits. i wanna be fuckin' wrecked by you and a bunch of strangers. how's that for bein' a good little slut?" maddox became tender and sweet just at the right moment. their lips met again, and it felt like new year's day as his whole body felt jolts of electricity spread throughout his body. "i'll take care of you, daddy, and you're gonna take care of me too," he breathed out against maddox's soft lips. "you're everything i could ever want, maddox. 'm gonna keep you happy. it just so happens that you love all the slutty things i wanna do, and that is why i'll be the best little housewife you could ever find. not to mention, you'd never find someone with an ass like this — or a pair of feet like this. seen how you've been eyeing them, daddy."

"automatically, daddy. one whiff, and you'll be goonin'... and i know that's just what you want. you're gonna be addicted to my feet, and i'm gonna love every second of it," sydney elaborated with a smirk on his lips. they were a match made in heaven. they both fed off of each other's filthy energy, and that, in turn, only drew them in closer to each other. they could be as free and wild as they wanted with each other, and that would only make them stronger in the long run. they could delve into both of their sordid fantasies together, no matter how taboo. "my daddy's a proper footslut, isn't he?" sydney teased with a giggle. "most of the time 'm gonna wanna be your toy, but every now and then, might wanna switch it up. you'll always be my daddy though. no matter if i'm eating you or letting you knock me up." it wasn't often that sydney dreamt about slipping inside someone, but maddox was a completely different ballpark. he truly wanted to try everything with him. they were building a relationship even in the midst of that dingy frat house living room. he didn't care if he was sprawled out on top a coffee table for all to see and a bunch of feet to inevitably worship. it was something they both enjoyed, and sydney wasn't going to stop... not until maddox told him to. "'m gonna be the best little slut you've ever seen boys," sydney announced to them. his toes wiggled in his socks, the musk strong enough to radiate off him and permeate throughout the room. all of the younger boys looked at him like they were ravished, like he was a piece of meat to be devoured — and somehow he just loved it. "i want all of your sweaty feet... wanna eat all of your asses... wanna swallow every last drop of piss and every load you'll gimme. maybe if my daddy's feeling up to it, he'll give you a turn or two in this pussy... but you're gonna have to show him how bad you want it," sydney told the boys. "so do as he says and gimme those feet, and let me go wild on 'em. and if you need to bust all over me, go right on ahead. my tongue's very powerful." there were so many eyes on him, he would've felt embarrassed if he could actually think about it... but maddox was all he could think about. especially once he started using that expert tongue of his. "oh, it will. see how many fuckin' phones are out? prolly all over snapchat. we'll prolly be number one on pornhub by mornin'," sydney teased. the night was still young and had only just begun. there were still hours ahead of them — raunchy, sweaty hours. "oh, i'd work for it. i'd wanna earn my daddy's tight pussy. 'd be the only one to ever to get touch it," sydney hummed. "one thing's for sure, though, i'd shove a real sweaty gym sock in your mouth and give you the other to huff on. 'cause i know that'd just make you infinitely sluttier, daddy. i'd have you goonin' on my cock." as if on cue, all of those feet came down onto his eager face. his tongue parted, and he was slathering his spit all over those soles. he could barely whose foot he was servicing. he didn't care either. he was just in heaven lapping and sucking them all. if he'd been able to touch himself he would've cum already. he could feeling that warm sensation bubbling in his system. he'd burst any second then if it wasn't for his daddy's rules. "'s true. i woulda passed you all with true colors —" he was interrupted by an eager freshman raking their sole across his extended tongue. plush lips wrapped around one of his toes too for good measure and started to suck gently. " — all it would've taken was even just a sniff or two. i mean, i'd wanna fuck and clean up with my tongue too... but i'm a real footslut. 's fuckin heaven to me." he would've continued that filthy monologue about how much he loved feet, but there two freshman shoving toes in his mouth at the same time, and all he could do was slobber all over them like it was nothing... like there wasn't a bazillion eyes on him, like there wasn't a camera pointed straight at him.

the moment maddox laid eyes on sydney, he knew the boy was special. he would have never thought he had a shot with a guy like that, since everyone seemed to have their eye on sydney. from the freshman pledges to the rowdy seniors, every guy in sigma chi held a special place for sydney greene. and, with so many guys to chose from, maddox had no reason to believe that sydney would even give him a second glance. but, as it turned out, the same smug attitude that made the rest of the house despise him wound up helping him score. he could feel their angry eyes glaring into the back of his head as he softly stroked sydney's curly hair, as he leaned forward to press a kiss to the boy's supple lips. "none of that matters now, does it? 'cause i've got you," maddox hummed. "there's no one back home that even comes close to you, sydney. i've got the real prize." as sydney's hands roamed his body, maddox could only sit back and enjoy the attention. he felt like he was on top of the world, getting felt up whilst jealous onlookers gawked at the sight before them, with sydney stroking his ego more than anyone else ever had. nothing else matters to him — not what awaited him back home, not the hazing at the start of the semester; just sydney. "let me put it this way, princess; you, with a pair of rank, sweaty feet in your face, is the hottest fucking thing i could ever imagine. don't care if it's just mine, or if you've got a whole buffet of filthy jock feet fresh from the field. any chance i get, i'm gonna make sure that you're down on your knees slutting yourself out for a pair of feet," maddox admitted, a faint pink glow to his cheeks. "the team are gonna go crazy over you, babygirl. i just hope you're ready, 'cause they're going to be just as addicted to your pussy as you'll be to their cocks. i'm gonna teach 'em all how to treat you, and before you know it you'll have twelve guys stuffing that cunt and making you their slut. i just know you're gonna start craving it, and you'll be begging daddy to let you play with his team. you'll make the perfect team cumdump." maddox felt like he was dreaming, but sydney was always there to remind him that was all real. even as a child, maddox had never been allowed to express himself freely and without judgement, and sydney offered him a space to be his unadulterated self. he didn't feel a need to water himself down in front of the other, because he liked him just as he came — even if he was a little sweaty. "that'll be the best part, won't it? all those random guys using you as a urinal while you're stretched out around my cock? it'd be like heaven to you; and once they're all done shooting their loads down your throat, i'll have 'em spread their cheeks and press their sweaty holes to the wall," maddox said with a smirk. "and don't think you'll be done after that, 'cause i'm gonna take that mouth for a ride, too. the we'll get you out of the stall and introduce you to all the guys you just slutted yourself out for, and we'll pick a lucky few to breed you. you'll be a fuckin' cum dumpster all night long, and if i know you... you'll love every second." maddox pressed another kiss to sydney's lips, caressing his cheek with the pad of his thumb as he pulled away. the older boy was checking every last one of his boxes, promising to fulfill all his fantasies, and looked breathtaking while doing so. it was like sydney was perfect crafted for maddox, and now that he'd finally found him, he never wanted to let go. "just look at you, princess... you're fuckin' gorgeous, downright filthy, and sweeter than any candy that money can buy. you're the whole package, and i'm gonna be the man that you need. the man that's gonna treat you right, and make sure you get everything you ever wanted," he said, cupping the older boy's cheek in his hand. "you're gonna be the best girl for daddy — keeping him fed, happy, and gooning on those sweaty feet. what more could a man ask for?"

"you caught me, princess. i've been wondering how sweaty they must be, even thinking about that first whiff once i get them on my face... my eyes are gonna roll back, aren't they? your sweaty feet are gonna put daddy right into gooner mode, huh?" maddox replied. he liked that he could openly admit it, that sydney wasn't going to leave him high and dry for being so whipped. there was no need to pretend he wasn't a complete goner for sydney, because the older boy figured it out all on his own. "you already know the answer, angel. just seeing you walk in the house after a run, knowing how filthy they must be, is enough to get me hard and leaking through my shorts... i'm sure you can imagine how i'm gonna be when i finally get my mouth on them. daddy'll be gooning so hard that he'll do whatever you ask him to — gimme a sock to huff, and i'd spread my legs for you to make out with my fuckin' hole, or even stuff a few fingers in... and i don't let anyone near my ass." maddox could see the gleam in the older boy's eye, and he knew instantly that he was in for much more than he originally bargained. he'd never even thought about being fucked before, but with sydney... anything was possible. "don't tell me that, princess... tell them," maddox said, nodding toward the group of horny freshmen that surrounded them. "look at 'em, princess. you see how eager they are to fuck you? bet you can't wait to get your mouth on all those thick, freshman cocks... bet they're extra sweaty for you now." looking at sydney, maddox could tell that this side of him was something that had always existed. he was happy to give the boy exactly what he'd given to him — a place to be himself without limitations. "i bet the word will spread like wildfire. everyone is gonna know about the senior slut taking cock from random guys all around campus, and we'll have every guy on campus wanting a turn with you," maddox chuckled, ruffling the boy's curls. even if it all ended up being just a bunch of dirty talk, maddox wouldn't have cared. he only wanted to make sydney happy, and if that meant fulfilling every dirty dream on his checklist, maddox would do just that. "oh, so you think you've got it in you to get a piece of this ass? it'll take a whole lot more than a little skirt and some pouting to turn daddy into a slut like you, but i'd like to see you try," maddox replied, lips curled into a smirk. he loved sydney's confidence, but loved even more his willingness to humiliate himself in order to please him. once maddox was down on his knees, he didn't hold back — he'd been dreaming of slobbering all over sydney's jock cunt for weeks, and now he was getting to do exactly that. his tongue worked in broad strokes, lapping at the taught pink rim repeatedly before working it's way inside. the other freshmen were being downright filthy, too; wiggling their toes against sydney's eager lips, rubbing their sweaty soles all over his face. by the team maddox came up for air, the boys were making a mess of his little slut. "that's what a happy little footslut looks like you guys, but don't be afraid to get real filthy with him. he's the senior slut tonight, and he really likes sweaty freshman feet. i bet while he was hazing us, he really just wanted us to kick our feet up and let him go crazy," he teased, egging the freshman on by reminding them of their torment. two more stepped forward and took the spots next two them, looking to maddox for approval before kicking their feet up in sydney's face. maddox could barely catch his breath before he was pulling out his phone and snapping a picture, but then he noticed that benji was already recording the whole thing. his little slut was worshipping four pairs of sweaty, rank freshman feet, and he'd get to watch it all back. "what a nasty little slut," maddox commented before shoving his face right back between the older boy's checks, leaving a slap on his ass as he devoured that perfect little hole. if sydney wanted to be the freshman slut, and that was exactly what he was going to get — and maddox would enjoy every second.

[snakes-of-the-undercity]

Vi is gifted kid burnout but in the english major way

[pine-arten]

guys the light deity is literally called light WEAVER ...... it makes sense to have pupa/grub dragons. they are weaving

[pollen]

i've been diving a lot deeper into adhd symptoms and comorbidities and misdiagnoses and whenever i tell my boyfriend something i learned that sounds like me he responds with something like

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

Do you have any Zhongli/Zhongchi fic recs? I haven’t found any that are nearly as good as yours 😔😔

funnily enough someone already asked this, but it was quite a while ago and tumblr is a mess to search old shit thru so here, this is the post this was asked during the ao3 crisis of- .......last year? i can't remember. either way, the post starts w me saying i don't have all the names and links but dw, after ao3 came back up i edited the post so you should see all authors and links in the recs.

i have to admit that for reasons unrelated to the fandom i haven't been reading many zhongchi fics as of late? so like- bear in mind i don't have an updated mental picture of any of the recs after the post was made. so if one went off the rails or if one of the WIPs finished, i'm not aware;; i also mention in the post that i'd add more recs if i had access to ao3 (which i didn't at the time bc it was down), and while that is true, it's been so long since i read any of them that i wouldn't be able to confidently reccomend them outside of 'i somewhat remember the plot and i remember liking it'. also i don't remember half of their names. so uh- yeah that's the list i think

[snekdood]

im so happy for you that fiction doesnt effect your reality. thats not the case for all of us though ✌️

[solace-seekers]

screaming into the void <3

[enchantrum]

unrelated to anything but I can't stand the art style of One Piece and I don't understand how anyone can look at it without being vaguely grossed out. everything and everyone looks so ugly and it weirdly messes with my synesthesia in a way where I feel like the whole cast just smells of dirty old feet gdsfj;oigdhsfj;oigrsfdj;io

[itsalwaysdark]

future for scientist, bound for cadaver, and monster for both of them? 🤔

future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

SO unfortunately for scientist i think the worst outcome for her is. achieving immortality FJNFJFN despite that being the one thing shes working towards yk. i think deepdown she knows this but shes still pursuing it bc shes basically in denial abt it... i think her being immortal would rly enhance some of her worst traits. like she already feels disconnected/dofferent/isolated from other people (which is partially why shes pursuing immortality in the first place) but if she got it it would just be. soooo much worse. i truly believe if she did become immortal shed fuck off to like. the most isolated place on earth and shed never talk to another person ever again. Which she might think is a good thing but it absolutely would not be

bound: Has your OC ever been imprisoned or captured? What happened? How did they get out? Did the experience leave any scars?

soo this one is difficult bc cadavers backstory im changing my mind on it majorly atm... previously i did have him being arrested and held in prison for a while and then being broken out/recaptured by scientist but im not sure if i still want all that .. the like. nature of his ... Whole thing has changed a lot since i originally came up with her so im not sure if that still works. like it Could but idk... so this one is a bit of a weird question to answer atm bc i havent fully decided yet... i suppose depending on how much control you view cadaver as having you could say like. living with scientist is imprisonment but i do think if cadaver actually wanted to get out it probably could. SO idk... also scars r also being reconsidered in my mind bc previously i had him Getting scars but now im not sure if that actually makes sense with the healing thing... but the issue is one of the main reasons i made him is bc i think autopsy scars r cool 😭😭😭 so i dont know...

monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?

scientist: YAY so i think scientist has always felt inherently other. but i think meeting cadaver RLY changed her for the worst like. she literally regularly murders another person. and yeah he gets better but you dont just like... even if its not permanent you cant just become ok with killing someone without being a little bit off. yk. i think physically shes human (unless i decide that she Does take on the whole possession thing. constant flipflopping in connorland) but i think mentally she goes from being like. kind of a misanthropic loner to being like. she basically simultaneously views cadaver as an ideal that shes jealous of (bc he has the one thing she wants, and bc she feels a sort of connection w it bc they have like.. similar but different motivations. yk...). and if the only person youve ever felt any sort of similarity to is a corpse possessed by ambiguous force i dont think youre like . you know ...

cadaver: so this is soo fun bc ive actually been considering having cadaver a bit more monstrous like. physically. bc obviously shes not human anymore BUT i think itd be fun if the possession had some physical effects on him... currently he just has the extreme healing/resurrection abilities but id imagine hed probably have some sort of enhanced strength as well. and i just love when possession has a physical component... but yes. EMOTIONALLY i think cadaver is weirdly in denial abt being a monster. like. i think she views the original part of her the one that died as like. the monstrous one. it feels more human now that its possessed bc prior to her death she was like. Somewhat similar to scientist in that she was very isolated but it was less of a choice if this makes sense. like scientist consciously isolates herself from ppl bc she just Assumes that they arent like. sorry im turning this into being about scientist again DJFNJF cadaver go lay at the bottom of the pool or something im busy. but yk she has that like. a view of herself thats seperate from other people/from humanity so she just doesnt bother talking to other people bc she assumes they would never understand. yk. so it is A choice to isolate from ppl (altho she also like..does not have social skills at all. as a result of this choice. so yk...) but w cadaver cadaver was alllways desperate for connection but in a like. rather than searching for One specific like. Unattainable kind of connection he wanted anything. and thats why she was so enthusiastic abt the connection bc it meant there would always be like. Someone. yk. and obv post connection shes a lot more like. confident and Able to make friends despite being physically more disconnected from humanity if this makes sense. so yes. i think cadaver is Literally more monstrous than scientist but i dont think thats how he feels abt himself at all.

link to ask game!

[aro-aizawa]

getting into batman and fam late is mildly embarrassing because with the series going on for so long there's a lot of various different interpretations of characters and they'll usually have common threads between them in the very least appearance wise so its easy to recognise them. i, however, did not grow up with the standard appearance of these characters and none shows that example more than when i imagine dick grayson. bc when ppl think of dick grayson he has long(ish) dark hair whereas what i think of is:

[fullmetall]

im thinking abt grief 2day. im also thinking abt hohenheim (again)