#i wanna have a good old bawling my eyes out night and just be done with it

[starrbucky]

.

[slut4sway]

i think we could do it if we tried

if only to say you're mine

sofia, know that you and i

shouldn’t feel like a crime

•

honey, i don’t want it to fade

there’s things that i know could get in the way

but, i don’t want to say goodbye

and i think that we could do it if we tried

🪫•••••••••••••••••••🩸

anywherebound

chapter II : bloody knuckled

notes : this was a very sensitive topic for me to write about and it took a lot to really go into a dark place to talk about my own sobriety and intergrate it into this. this may be one of the only fics i can really write genuinely because i pour my soul into this and it really helps me cope. currently 15 days sober and i hit the 2 week mark for the first time in a very long time yesterday!

tw : self harm

5/26/23

about 12 hours sober, but 1 week clean gone to waste. it was a never-ending cycle, trevor would be all go-fucking-lucky for a day; then mood swings would get the best of him and he’d relapse. genuinely, he did want to get better but every 7 days or so he found himself bleeding on the floor. but there was no emotion shown. he was either crying and bawling until he couldn’t breathe or just carving his skin apart with a stoic expression that was almost apathetic; and lacking emotion.

the blood had almost completely dried, the small drips were glazed with the morning light. trevor just stared down at himself and what he’d just done. maybe if he’d just gone back to his old habits and started punching walls again, his now pale skin wouldn’t be different shades and textures because of his scars. if he had just let himself go apeshit on the drywall like he did when jamie would piss him off; at 16 he could have bloody knuckles instead of blood running down his forearm. only sucker punching walls because of him then going out to ride bikes up in ontario around his neighborhood. climbing up on their spot; an old abandoned rehab center, 6 stories up just watching the sun crest westbound. behind all of the high rise buildings they could see them, in the orange. something in the orange told them maybe they were right for each other. because they pined for each other like nothing else.

the bedford sunsets were different though. westchester county was different. the old architecture and the trees gave it more of a homey feel for sure. hours before they would lie in the bed of trevor’s old f-150 or in some deforested field, he would be talking about jamie non stop to his mother. she would just listen, watch him swoon over the boy; leaning on the counter as he smiled with every word regarding jamie that came out of his mouth. how much loved him and how he wishes he could just tell jamie that; bringing that smile to a false linger. even mrs. zegras knew trevor really liked jamie, and that it was authentic.

“trevor baby..” jamie fought back tears, gawking at trevor slumped against the bed with blood dripping down his forearms the same way coke dripped off his nose the night before. his stomach dropped, gaping at trevor while he stumbled over from the window and came to his knees next to him.

trevor just stared at jamie with heavy eyes. there was nothing to be said. or nothing that was said. he was holding back as if his life depended on it, and now that he was sober he wishes he could just tell him how much he wishes he could just get better and maybe be able to love jamie the way he should’ve. the amount of anger and frustration built up came out in tears, like they always had.

“you were doing so good.. what happened?” his unsteady voice broke something inside trevor. he was asking such an obvious question, so irritating and apparent jamie knew; but didn’t want to admit.

“you wanna know what fucking happened jim?! you happened. it’s ever god damn night we go up to the roof and get faded, i cant stand it anymore because i know you don’t love me! it’s the same thing every week and you know what? i fucking hate you, because this is your fault and you know why this happens but you still ask as if you’re fucking clueless every time..” the older boy choked out his words, suffocating as his breath hitched in his chest every once in a while with tears falling from the corners of his eyes and bending around the curves of his grecian nose.

the ‘i fucking hate you’ really hit home for jamie in more ways than one. that told him all he needed to know about how trevor was feeling right now, and told him that he seriously fucked up. trevor was always so tolerant with him, but now it was unclear. did he really mean what he said now that he hit his breaking point?

jamie gave him an empty glance before he leaned over trevor and pulled the drawer open and taking out a gauze wrap and some tissues.

“i’m sorry trev.”

“how am i even supposed to know if you’re telling the truth? you always say that but then you do the same thing?”

“i really am, and z.. i know i mess up a lot but we both know it’s hard to like- stop or quit, feel me?” jamie affirmed, gently wiping the blood away from his arms. his words were truthful for once, and sweet, sweet, sober jamie was home.

“i’m tired. i’m so fucking exhausted. i’m so numb i don’t even know what’s wrong anymore. i need you but we’re..” he tapered off the sentence with the sound a fucked up kid makes. trevor let jamie wrap his arm with the sterile gauze; with deep devotion and affection that felt so fake yet so real. it was frustrating. complicated. because love is patient, and love is kind. it shouldn’t make someone lose their mind. there’s got to be more to this than being pissed off all the damn time.

“it’s like every therapist i go to doesn’t work.” trevor shifted the topic. he doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready to say that him and jamie were toxic.

“i know baby. i know.” the way jamie called him baby like when they were just wild-haired messed up kids brought him back. back to the times when they smelled like liquor, spirits, and weed. it should be disgusting, but when jamie said he’d give anything to be near it; that was enough. he finished wrapping trevor’s arm after what seemed like an eternity, feeling him melt into his arms while trevor’s messy curls fell in sync with his motion.

“and like.. we say it’s the last time every night but it’s not..? i don’t want it to be the last time, i cant leave you. i just cant, and like i wanna stop using and drinking and i wanna stay clean, but like i cant?” his focus shifted again. the amount of thoughts running through his head rushed through his entire body that was just a soulless entity.

“i.. i cant leave you either trev. i’ll try baby, i swear i will.” jamie cooed as trevor rested the side of his head on jamie’s chest with his legs sprawled out beside him.

that was an empty promise though. because it’s not easy like that. cause someone can’t just pack up and leave to some foreign country, and quitting substances and bad habits was their foreign land. none of that shit is easy. loving each other was hard enough; and when they can’t even feel real without having alcohol coursing through their veins it was just more difficult.

“can we both.. try and stay clean and sober for a week?” this small proposal from trevor was a big step for them, hence relying on artificially produced dopamine to not feel like they’re about to die any time they’re one day off and having withdrawals.

they’ve been drowning in each other for a long time, and it wasn’t fun anymore. neither of them were happy with what they had; no matter how much they put on a false front or convinced themselves they did. getting high was supposed to be fun.

this wasn’t fun.

“it’s gonna be one step forward and three steps back, you know? so can we not give up right away?” another empty fucking promise. trevor took a deep, shaky breath as he said this. his open wounds singed every second.

“promise.” jamie knew. he knew that it wouldn’t happen right away. he knew even if it did happen and they made it to one week, they’d be lucky.

•

jamie awoke to trevor gently snoring in his arms, the reddened gauze turning a light toffee color as the blood dried. sleeping off the hangover he ignored was not the move. trevor’s phone vibrated, screen lighting up to a notification from their groupchat.

cloud 9 ☁️😵‍💫

jack⁉️: bonfire party tn down at the coast bring what u want

sonny🙌: k im bringing weed what strain do u guys want

i have wedding cake and northern lights on me rn

jack⁉️: no sunset sherbert or cookies?

sonny🙌: no sorry

colesy🫃: white runtz

jack⁉️: cole u don’t smoke what are you talking about dawg 💀

colesy🫃: yes

sonny🙌: bye whos baby is this 😭😭😭

mctavish™️: HELP ME

mctavish™️: told some of the hoes some r coming

colesy🫃: i have malibu

sonny🙌: cole that’s so gay

colesy🫃: 🥺🤭🩻🪅🚂😵‍💫‼️😵‍💫🤤😇😧™️🎸📭™️🙌🎉😧🤭🚂🪅🎸😵‍💫🩻🫃🩸🚂™️🩻☁️😨😇⁉️⁉️🫃💌🪅🎸🤤😵‍💫🎉😇😇☁️���😰😇😧🚂

mctavish™️: someone come get their child he got out the cage

colesy🫃: okok sorry i’ll bring red white blue smirnoff and we can mix it w monticello it’s so good

jack⁉️: do u mean limoncello 🧍‍♂️

colesy🫃 : same thing

notifications popped up one after another, overlapping each other. jamie picked up his phone and unlocked it, responding back:

we’re trying to stay sober. we’ll come but we aren’t using. trevor is asleep this is jim btw

jack⁉️: ok yea that’s fine good luck boys

sonny🙌: 💪💪

colesy🫃: ok love u guys

mctavish™️: good job, proud of you guys

thanks.

Jamie shut off Trevor’s phone, placing it face down where it was before. Hopefully, they can fulfill their promise.

Maybe Trevor won’t relapse or go bloody-knuckled in the afterglow of the party.

[countrymusiclover]

29 - He's My Life

Part 30

His Golden Princess

@fanficismydrug @misskitty1912-blog @alanaangie24

Foosteps approached us so we broke the kiss seeing Regina who bawled her hands into fists at her sides. "You Charming's can't let me have happiness can you!"

Blinking the sleep from my eyes I was woke from my deep sleep by the sound of weapons and boots hitting the ground in a quick fashion. Robin and I shared a tent since he insisted it was too dangerous for me to walk alone at night. I haven't spoken to Regina since she saw me and Robin kiss last night. She just might kill me if she got the chance. Pushing the flap open I gasped rushing forward in between Rumple and Robin with his loaded crossbow aimed at him. "Woah, woah. Robin you can't shoot him!"

Foosteps approached for me to see his little son drop his sticks scared. "Daddy!"

"Don't! Please!" I begged my lover whipping my head to give him puppy dog eyes.

"I don't want to. I really don't. Come closer, little boy." He magically forces Roland forward. He then uses magic to push the boy into the ground.

Roland cried. "Daddy! Help!"

Waving my right hand I pointed the tip of my sword into Rumple's neck. "Fight her Rumple. If she wants a heart. Give her mine..spare his child." Rumple sucked in a breath not changing his position.

"I didn't want to do this either." Robin shoots his arrow; only for Rumple to magically catch it in mid-air. He then turns the arrow in Roland's direction.

Stepping closer I press my blade tightly against his throat hearing him grunt still not dropping his hand. "It never misses its target. And I've just changed the target. If I drop my finger..."

The other Merry Men attempt to come forward, only for Rumple to freeze them into place. "Wait! Wait." Robin begged digging the heart out from hiding underneath a tree handing it over to him.

"Thank you. And I am sorry." He sends the arrow flying until it is inches from Roland before it drops.

Rumple and I locked gazes before I bared my teeth to the man I love. I saw some blood from where I had cut him with my sword secounds ago. "Take me to her right now, Dark One. I wanna lay my blade into her chest!" Rumple waved his hand engulfing us in a cloud of purple smoke until we returned to the old farm house she was keeping him.

"Astrid you need to get out of here-" Rumple begged me still holding the heart in his hand until it magically gets into Zelena's hand behind me.

"Come for another beating little Charming?" She teased when I spun around on my feet.

Getting in a fighting stance I gripped the sword in my hands. "Why is it so important that Rumple doesn't stop you. What do you want with him exactly?"

"That's none of your business." She snapped stepping closer to me

Knitting my brows together I could see an odd expression on her face. Glancing over my shoulder to Rumple I snapped my fingers thinking something crazy. "You love him. That's why you want him all to yourself."

"It's fine dearie. I have that affect on women. I won Emma's sister after all." Zelena rolls her eyes at Rumple's chuckling in amusement.

"Stop talking. That's not the reason." She raises the dagger out making Rumple bend his head down like he was a dog.

Glaring towards her I take a swing for her but she grabbed the end of my blade yanking me in her face. "If you wish to know so badly I'll show you. It doesn't matter anyway. You'll be dead when this is done." She grabbed my chin in her freehand engulfing me in a cloud of green dust where I collapse onto the grass.

"The Dark Curse is the only way." My father spoke since they had traveled to see the good witch for answers.

Regina throws her arms up frustrated at the situation. "Haven’t you been listening? I can’t cast it."

"But someone else can." He trailed off.

"Who?" My mother and I asked in unison seeing his gaze had fallen on us.

My father slowly walked over takingher hands in his. "You. It’s the only way. You can use my heart to cast the curse. We have to think of our child."

"Our child needs you. I need you. We’ll find another way. We always find another way." My mother started crying wrapping her arms around his neck. Turning on my heels I jumped on the closet horse riding off into the middle of the woods crying. Falling from my horse into the mud I gasped through tears until I felt someone watching me.

"Oh forgive me. I'm Zelena. I must say I wish my sister was suffering like you." I saw the wicked witch leaning against a tree watching me.

Getting to my feet I drew my sword I tried attacking her but she grabbed my sword melting it with her fight. "You're making my mother have to kill my father!"

"Well you're suffering shall be short. You see I have a plan to make the Dark One suffer...through you." She shoved her hand inside my chest making me gasp pulling it out. "When I crush your heart he will feel your pain and then he and everyone else in this realm wouldn't be able to stop me. Because they won't remember any of this."

Raising my hand I created a fireball to throw at her but she squeezed my heart. Gasping for air I collapse on my hands and knees. Clutching where my heart was I started crying when she gave it one finally squeezing tightly. "They'll stop you...good always wins!"

"Maybe so. But you won't be able to warm them. Sweet dreams princess Charming." Zelena clutched my heart turning it into dust with my eyes falling closed. Inside Rumple's castle he gripped the bars feeling pain in his chest suddenly.

He yanked his heart from his chest quickly placing a spell over it before he felt you completely die. "Astrid..."

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[lucemferto]

I wrote that Wilbur scene I talked about yesterday. I don't know if I captured any of the characters' voices, but I tried. It's around 1,800 words.

Sorry to spoil the surprise, but this scene has a twist!

„I’m not joining you.“

Wilbur’s eyes grew narrow. His cold gaze lingered on Tommy’s face. The boy’s expression was resolute; unwavering.

But there was this slight twitch in the left corner of his mouth. Just the faintest quiver in his lips. A weakness to be exploited.

“This burger van …” Tommy hesitated “… it’s just history repeating itself. It will end with us hurting people again …”

“’With us hurting people’?” Wilbur raised an eyebrow.

As he stepped closer, all the determination that Tommy had projected seemed to vanish in the blink of an eye. Wilbur gave him a wide smile – a thinly-veiled threat behind the appearance of affability.

“Tommy, we never hurt anyone! L’Manburg was a grand old time, Tommy, don’t you remember? Me as president; you as—”

“Maybe it wasn’t, Wilbur.”

Wilbur’s smile faltered. A glower displaced his once outwardly cheery disposition.

“You’re not making sense.”

“I’m not making sense?!” Tommy raised his voice, a blustering anger flaring up and painting over the insecurities that had been so apparent just moments before. “The presidency killed you, Wilbur! And it almost killed Tubbo! I can’t let that—”

“Tubbo?!” A hoarse laugh escaped Wilbur’s throat; more like the angry bellowing of a rabid dog. “Why the fuck should we care about Tubbo?! He betrayed us, Tommy!”

“T-That’s not true!”

Wilbur stepped closer; Tommy took a step back – but the walls of the van were already pressed up against his back. The older man was towering over him, casting him in shadow. A wild and manic energy was glinting in his eyes, bloodshot and red like sundown soon giving way to a dark night.

“He fucking teamed with the enemy, Tommy! What else would you call that?!”

“He still cares—”

Wilbur’s hand shot forward. Like the maw of an angry serpent, it closed itself around Tommy’s throat. All colour drained from the boy’s face – his complexion like that of a corpse.

“Don’t you fucking get it, Tommy?!” Little droplets of spittle rained on Tommy’s skin as Wilbur’s face inched ever closer to his. “Tubbo doesn’t care; he never cared! You were just a fucking tool to him, Tommy! Someone he could use and throw away once you were no longer useful!”

Wilbur’s dirty fingernails burrowed themselves into Tommy’s neck – soon trails of red were trickling down into the boy’s shirt.

“I’m the only who cares, Tommy! I’m the only one who ever cared about you!”

“Wilbur! Y-you’re hurting me!”

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy! I don’t ca—”

“STOP!”

The scene halted; as though time had frozen. A figure emerged from the darkness of the burger van.

It was Wilbur.

Though he and the Wilbur currently choking Tommy looked almost identical upon first glance, there were some striking differences: Gleaming red eyes contrasted against tired brown ones; demonic intensity against a dull exhaustion. The first Wilbur seemed almost unnaturally tall and imposing as he towered over Tommy; the second Wilbur carried himself smaller, more guarded.

“I d-don’t …” For a moment the voice of the second Wilbur seemed to falter; but soon he snapped back to a more confident bearing; all insecurity obscured behind a steadfast façade. “No more!”

A deafening silence fell upon the van. Then, slowly, as though unattached from his neck, Tommy’s head turned to Wilbur. Brilliant blue gave way to a searing crimson; fear to a wide, sharp-teethed grin.

“Whaaaat? You don’t enjoy the little play I put on just for you? And I thought you’d be impressed with all the cool ghost shit I can do now.”

With a sickening ratch, two horns ripped through Tommy’s temples. Shadow swallowed his blond locks, transforming them into dark, slicked back hair. Murky, unkempt facial hair sprout from his skin as his once lively complexion grew grey and translucent. Smokey tendrils enshrouded the red and white T-Shirt, before it emerged as a black business suit, the bloodred tie serving as the only blotch of colour.

The ghost of Schlatt had appeared before Wilbur.

“Guess it hit a little too close to home, huh?”

Wilbur’s eyes narrowed. While the illusionary Tommy had disappeared upon Glatt’s arrival, the facsimile of himself was still standing there. Frozen in eternal wrath.

Wilbur’s mouth grew thin. “I wouldn’t do that to Tommy. I would never hurt him.”

Feigned shock contorted Glatt’s mouth into a darkly comical expression. “That’s not what he told me.”

Wilbur felt something icy sting in his chest “What?”

Glatt nodded. “Yeah, it was the strangest thing. I was in my gym doing reps, snorting creatine, you know how it goes, when suddenly I hear some … some whining.”

Wilbur immediately took notice. He knew what Glatt was talking about. The lump in his throat felt like it would soon suffocate him.

Glatt didn’t seem to notice.

“The sound of some low-T beta just letting it all out. And when I go take a look, who else should I find but—"

“Tommy …”

“Don’t interrupt me. Anyway, when I turn the corner, I see this real pathetic mess just sitting on the floor, sobbing. I told him to shut the fuck up, because he was throwing me off my game. But he just wouldn’t stop, so good guy that I am – you remember how great I am with kids!”

“You never were.”

“Oh no, I was! That Tubbo-kid, he had it good in Manberg.”

Wilbur flinched – whether it was because of the bastardized name of the country he had once loved and loathed or because Glatt’s words woke some memories in him that he’d soon rather forget; he did not know.

“You had him executed.”

Glatt nodded, a wistful smile curling his ashen lips. “Good times, good times. Anyway, the little ghost-brat … he tells me his name is Gommy.”

Glatt let out a harsh, bellowing laugh. Wilbur could not share his amusement. He had almost forgotten how much he hated Schlatt’s sneering.

The ghost still had not managed to fully compose himself. “Gommy, that’s such a dumb name! Gommy … you wanna know what a good name is?”

“Is it—?”

“GLATT!”

The sound came out like a bile-filled belch. Wilbur closed his eyes in exasperation; his fingers massaging the bridge of his nose.

“I figured … Does this story have a point or are you just here to waste my time?”

Glatt frowned. “What, am I not good enough company for you?”

“Not even in the slightest.”

For the first time in their conversation, Glatt’s face grew more serious. His red stare tore into Wilbur; almost drilled into his mind. Wilbur answered the ghost’s stare with what he hoped was a cold, unreadable expression.

But he knew that in Schlatt’s presence, there were no masks to wear. No intent to hide. That ram was the only man that could strip him bare.

Finally, Wilbur had to break eye contact. With a sound of exasperation, he spat out: “Get to the point!”

“‘Get to the point’” The false Wilbur moved his lips, but it was Glatt’s mocking voice that emerged from behind them. “Man, I liked it more when you were a little ghost bitch. You used to come to my gym actually; did some reps. Annoying accent, but damn, what a cute ass.”

Wilbur’s jaw tensed. He had enough of this.

“I’m leaving.”

With a few long strides he had reached the exit of the van. The cold, fresh night air was beckoning him; away from the smell of cigarettes and alcohol.

Then that obnoxious voice called after him again: “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. Ghost-boy didn’t have the nicest things to say about you …”

Wilbur froze. His hand was on the door handle, ready to release him from this dark, stuffy room. It would be so easy to just leave; to rid himself of this headache. He did not need to stay.

“… You’re lying.”

A wide grin stretched Glatt’s thin lips – Wilbur couldn’t see it; but he could hear it in that tone of his.

“I’m the one who’s lying? No, no, no, I’m merely recounting what 'Gommy' told me.”

Wilbur turned around. Glatt’s smug smirk was even more unbearable than he had imagined.

“You know, after he was done bawling his eyes out and blubbering like a little bitch –“

Glatt’s face shifted into warped replica of Tommy’s – big shimmering eyes and a little doll like mouth quivering with exaggerated sorrow: “‘D-D-Dweam, D-Dweam, h-h-he’— Anyway, he told me that while my cabinet was having a grand old time over in Manberg, you were being very mean to him.”

Wilbur shook his head. “I-I’ve changed. I apologized!”

Tommy-Glatt let out another bellowing laugh. It cut through Wilbur like a knife through a paper door.

“You think an apology could make this better!”

Wilbur jumped back. The fake Wilbur began to move once more. With a thundering roar, his fist made contact with the fake Tommy’s temple. A loud thud; Tommy impacted with the floor of the van. But before he could get up, the fake Wilbur began kicking him in the stomach; screaming obscenities and curses.

It wasn’t Wilbur’s voice – it was so clearly Glatt’s poor imitation of his accent. With each kick, Glatt-Tommy’s eyes bulged out of his skull; not like a person, but like a grotesque cartoon. It was a farcical display.

But Wilbur – the real Wilbur – was paralyzed. His mind was clouded with memories and nightmares; fears bloated and distorted by thirteen years of isolation

“That’s not … that’s not what happened!”

Schlatt’s piercing, high-pitched cackling erupted out of Tommy’s mouth once more.

“Boy, Limbo really did a number on you!”

With a jump Glatt-Tommy was up on his feet again – his nose bloody and broken, his skin coloured black and blue; his hateful grin revealing multiple missing teeth.

“Not that you were all that together beforehand – ‘Tommy, let’s be the bad guys!’ ‘No, Wilbur don’t blow up Manberg. If you blow up Manberg, I’m gonna piss my pants—’ ‘Shut up, Tommy!’”

“I never hit him!” Wilbur’s panicked exclamation interrupted the smear show. “I never hit him!”

Glatt-Tommy shook his head; the satisfied grin not leaving his face. “That’s not what he told me! And what’s worse, when that green guy – Dream, I think his name was? – while he was using Tommy as his own personal punching bag, your ghost was off in the woods jerking off or something. And now you're calling Dream your hero!”

Wilbur felt as all colour drained from his face. The van around him began to spin; darkness and alcohol and cigarette smoke choking even the last ounce of the outside air he could smell.

“I-I …”

Slowly the façade of Tommy began to melt once more. Slowly, deliberately. A nightmarish display. Glatt’s and Tommy’s voices spoke in unison; their echo a cacophony in Wilbur’s ears.

“Face it, loverboy. You will always be a bad guy. No number of apologies will change that. He will never forgive you.”

[thisiscertainlyrandom]

the beginning and the end of everything

"i wish i'd done everything on earth with you."

Nicky Valentino

Fanmix

i. Honeybee - Steam Powered Giraffe "oh, turpentine erase me whole; cause i don't want to live my life alone- well, i was waiting for you all my life."

ii. Strawberry Blond - Mitski "look at you, strawberry blond; fields rolling on, i love it when you call my name."

iii. I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire - The Ink Spots "i've lost all ambition for worldly acclaim, i just want to be the one you love,"

iv. Life Is But A Dream - Dion "life is but a dream, and i dream of you- strange as it seems, all night i see you. i'm tryin' to tell you just what you mean to me."

v. Dream Sweet in Sea Major - Miracle Musical "believe me, darling, the stars were made for falling; like melting obelisks, as tall as another realm."

vi. Bust Your Kneecaps - Pomplamoose "you call it crime, we call it; 'smart family business', and the family is serious."

vii. My Heart Is Buried In Venice - Ricky Montgomery "even when you try to hide it, a smile creeps out from your teeth. i never thought that i would have to say 'i'm sorry' for anyone but me."

viii. Death of a Bachelor - Panic! At The Disco "i'm playing hooky with the best of the best, pull my heart out my chest so that you can see it, too. i'm walking the long road, watching the sky fall- the lace in your dress tangles my neck; how do i live?"

ix. Love, Me Normally - Will Wood "is it courageous or escapist to leave the quarantine when you're contagious? it may just be a cold, and besides, i don't wanna get old-"

x. Line Without a Hook - Ricky Montgomery "guess there is something, and there is nothing- there is nothing in between; and in my eyes, there is a tiny dancer watching over me, he's singing: 'she's a, she's a lady, and i am just a boy', he's singing: 'she's a, she's a lady, and i am just a line without a hook'."

xi. Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy - Queen "i can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things; we can do the tango just for two. i can serenade and gently play on your heart strings, be your valentino just for you."

xii. Vanilla Curls - Teddy Hyde "two pairs of bare feet sneak out, bearing secret cate; scared to make a scene, but can't bare to let it be."

xiii. So Alright, Cool, Whatever - The Happy Fits "i wanna be with you, i wanna be with you, i wanna be barely hanging on- i wanna be with you all of the time, i wanna be loved by you every night; i wanna be dancing, dreaming, bawling and weeping for you all of my life,"

xiv. Pumpkin - The Regrettes "i used to think that romeo was full of shit, and the notebook was just my favourite chick flick, but now i get why sarah was so hard to forget; it's this feeling that i'm feeling, like nemo in a net."

xv. This December - Ricky Montgomery "i'm alright if you're alright, i'm okay if you're okay; it's this state, in this state i'm living in, it's just a little bit, it's just a little bit lonely in this home; it's always colder on your own,"

xvi. Portland - Bowling Shoes "she said to me she wants to go to portland, there's not a thing that's nearly as important- we could drive all night, we'll get there in the morning, what's one long drive?"

xvii. She Had the World - Panic! At The Disco "the sun was always in her eyes; she didn't even see me. but that girl has so much love- she'd wanna kiss you all the time."

[migilini]

I Do - Charlie Gillespie

a/n: I watched to many seasons of married at first sight and this came to mind. Just pretend that Charlie in this GIF is wearing a suit. Kinda a part two to Fifth Time Workes A Charm

Requests are open btw! (not just for Charlie)

words: 3k

warnings: none just fluff and a lot of crying

MASTERLIST

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You barely slept during the night. You kept waking up what felt like every hour to check if it was time to get up. The bed felt awfully empty and you would give everything right now to be in his arms. Then finally, the clock strikes 9 am and you are up on your feet, the nerves getting the better of you. The hotel room was nice and clean, you didn't like it, it felt too white and too lifeless to you right now.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, glowing but tired eyes staring right back at you. Taking a deep breath you tried to shake the nerves with a silly little body shake, then you smiled at yourself before heading into the bathroom to wash your face.

A knock on the door interrupted you mid-splash and you went to the door with a dripping face. “We’ve arrived!” your best friend Elouise or Eli for short exclaimed and hieved her whole baggage onto your bed. “What do you mean we?” you leaned your head out of the room and into the empty hallway. Just as you were about to close the door, feet pounded on the carpeted floor. “Sorry, sorry! Had to finish the call with hair and makeup.” Tris, your other best friend screamed through the halls, as she frantically came running towards you, phone clutched in one hand while the other held two dresses that flattered behind her.

You looked at her in amusement "Need a glass of water?" You chuckled at her heavy breathing and closed the door behind you.

"Oh yes please"

"Y/N you're so not ready...well lucky for you we are here. So hop hop go shower ma lady." Eli shushed you into the bathroom "and scrub every inch! I'll check if I have to!” You still heard their laughter as you get rid of your clothes and step into the shower. The warm water relaxed your muscles and your nerves immediately.

Several minutes later, now smelling like a goddess and wrapped into a soft white towel, you sat on the bed in your now crowded hotel room. While you were showering your nerves away, your dress, the hairdresser and makeup artist arrived.

“There she is!” greeted the makeup artist “Come sit down, we’ve got everything out and you and I already discussed your look. Are we still okay with it?”

“Yes, Carlos. But make everything as cry proof as possible okay?” you said laughing slightly.

“I also brought you a coffee and a croissant. I know you don’t usually eat something in the mornings but we don’t want you to faint now do we?” Tris held a tablet in front of her with several cups of coffees and something to eat. You took a cup gratefully, shooting her a quick thanks, holding the cup as Carlos started on your face and Melissa, the hairdresser started drying and styling your hair.

“Can I have my phone back?” You said to no one in particular.

“Nope, sorry.”

“Emi! What--It’s my phone!”

“I do know that. And you should know that Tris and I know you very well and you would’ve called or more likely face timed him by now and put a bad omen over the whole day.”

“Yeah. You and Charlie can’t be away from each other for long.” Tris acknowledged and sided with Emi.

“You’re just jealous that I’m in love.” You shot back with a smile and stuck your tongue out at your friends which in return gave you a growl from Carlos and Melissa who needed you to sit still.

After what felt like an eternity you were done and now it was time for your bridesmaids to get ready. They purposefully taped a piece of cloth over all mirrors so could only see yourself when you were 100% finished with getting ready.

Now that you had some time to actually think about today, your mind started to wander. Was Charlie ready by now or were there some complications? Tris did get a call earlier to then just run out of the room and come back 20 minutes later. What suit would he wear? Was he just as nervous as you? Totally unaware of how much time you passed, you were ripped out of your thoughts with a forceful swat on your shoulder.

“Miss Bride? It’s time to get the dress on.” Tris squealed.

You took a look at your best friends who looked absolutely stunning, at some time they got changed into their dresses. Emi smiled at you with a glossed lipped smile, her brown hair up in a bun while little strands of glitter strings framed her face. She wore a turquoise halter dress with some nude heels. Tris wore a bit of a darker turquoise strapless dress, her colourful hair falling straight over her shoulder. Both had simple makeup, a nude smokey eye with eyeliner.

Your eyes started to tear up. “Guys...you look absolutely stunning.” Emi walked over to you and embraced you in a hug. “We look really fudhing good but you’re gonna look even better. Now hop hop get undressed we have to lace up the dress.”

While your friends were working on lacing your dress up, you wondered out loud. “How much do we wanna bet that Owen lost the rings?” You chuckled and then yelled, “That's way too tight!”

“Oh Owen is so gonna lose the rings but we'll be fine. You’re gonna have rings or I'll run and get you some new ones.” Tris reassured you with a smile.

“Can I finally look at myself? I want to see if I look like a bride.” Emi and Tris shared a quick look before agreeing. Emi ripped the cloth away from the closest mirror. An audible gasp was all that was heard, everybody fixated on your reaction to yourself.

“I look like a real ass bride. I- oh my god… I look so good.” You coaxed out, trying not to cry, this got all a bit real too fast.

And you really did look amazing. Your open hair fell over your shoulders and ended right underneath your boob. It had a lot of volume and little glitter braids in it and Melissa had curled them to perfection so they framed your face perfectly. Your makeup was stunning as well, the reddish-brown and glittery smokey eye complementing your skin tone and eye colour. Carlos finished the look with a pinkish nude lipstick. You were glowing.

The cream coloured dress sat perfectly on your figure, the A-line cut highlighting your waist, the flowery lace flowing from the corset top down to your feet. The dress was poofy but not too much. You looked more like Sofie from Mamma Mia and less like Cinderella. You adjusted the straps and smiled at yourself.

“And I’m telling you, Charlie will bawl his eyes out when he sees you.” Emi patted your back and finished lacing up your dress. Tris couldn't contain herself anymore and let out a little sob “I’m sorry. You just look so gorgeous. I can’t believe you're getting married.” You pulled her into a hug.

“We don't have that much time anymore. the photographer should be here in five minutes to take your bridal pictures and pictures with the bridesmaids.”

The photo session went by quickly and you could tell that they turned out amazingly, by the way, Paul, the photographer, smiled at his screen. Megan, Charlie's sister and your other Bridesmaid came in at the last minute, due to the fact that she just flew in in the morning.

Then it was time for the first look. At first, you weren't sure if you should do this or if it would be better if the first look would be at the ceremony itself. You thought it would be funny to send Tris to the first look instead of you. So you, Megan and Emi sat in the hotel room waiting patiently.

The door opened “You two are really made for each other.” Tris came back in with a huge smile on her face. “Why? What happened?” You asked, the nervousness in your voice was evident. “Was he mad?”. She started to laugh “No absolutely not because he had the same idea as you and sent Owen.”

The room erupted in laughter “Oh no he didn't!” “Of course he did”

The next couple of hours flew by so quickly. You got to the venue. Your parents came by to say hello to you and to shed some tears. They also told you that most of the guests have arrived and everybody is waiting excitedly.

Finally, it was time. You nervously cracked your fingers, as you waited for all the guests to take a seat, the closed door in front of you the only thing shielding you from your fiance, your dad standing beside you in a suit.

“Nervous?” he asked you with a slight smile, you could tell that he was trying hard not to cry.

“Very. But I’m telling you if he doesn't cry I'll turn around and we gotta try again.” you joked.

“Oh my dear...he will.” he quickly took a look at his watch and then linked his arm with yours.

“Ready?” you shot him a smile and nodded “As ready as I'll ever be.”

The outside speakers started to play the instrumental version of Cherry Wine by Hozier and the doors opened.

It was mid-May and you and Charlie decided on an Outside wedding. After searching for a great venue you finally found one. It was an old brick house with a small colonnade of bushes in the garden. It was absolutely perfect but you didn't even look at the decorations because as soon as your eyes met his, the world stood still.

He stood at the front of the colonnade where some candles burned beside him. He wore a forest green tuxedo and that dashing smile of his. The closer you got, the more you saw how much he was crying and all you wanted to do is hug him and wipe the tears away. Your cheeks hurt from all the smiling but you couldn't stop, some tears of your own spilling out of the corners of your eyes.

You kissed your dad on the cheek and let him sit down in the front row, your eyes only momentarily leaving Charlies. “Hi, handsome.” You smiled up at him and instinctively used your thumb to wipe away some tears. “Did you cut your hair?” you asked, nodding to his now chin-length hair (think October Charlie) He grabbed your hands in his and kissed your knuckles while slightly nodding his head “You look...just wow,” he whispered so that only you could hear. You just wanted to give him a compliment when the officiant interrupted you.

“Now it's getting serious.” you said while he said “No backing out.” with a wink.

“The couple standing in front of me met at the young age of 18 in the middle of the street. Y/N bumped into Charlie here and practically fell for him right there and then. She shot him a quick sorry and went her way but the universe knew that these two needed to be together so the next day he bumped into her, totally accidental of course.” the crowd laughed and you and Charlie beamed at each other. “Sadly for Y/N that day she carried an expensive Cake that flew to the other side of the pavement. Charlie felt so bad that he promptly invited her to the next bakery where they got a cup of coffee and a new cake. Today we’re gathered here today to celebrate that love.”

“I believe that the two of you wrote your own vows? Y/N would you like to start?” You nodded and turned around to take a piece of paper from Emi who stood behind you, already missing the warmth of his hands in yours.

“Charlie, you know I’m not very good with words so I really struggled to write this, but here we are standing in front of your family and friends to share our love. I knew I loved you…” your voice wavered and you let out a sob “sorry...I knew I loved you in the first week that we’ve met. We sat on a bench in the little park right around the corner from where we met. You were late and totally out of breath when you arrived. You apologized like crazy but I didn't care, you don't know this but I had a really shitty day that day and just seeing you made it all worth it. That smile of yours knocked me off my feet completely.

From that day on I only loved you more and more. I love the way you try to wake up every day with a smile. The way you always seem to have so much energy and that you try to share that energy and love with the whole world. I love waking up in your arms because they feel like home and I miss you like crazy when I don't see you for a day.

I never really believed in love at first sight before I met you and I’m so glad that you ruined my cake. I promise to try and make you smile at least twice a day, to listen and care for you, to dance with you in the kitchen while our pizza is in the oven. I also promise to try your questionable food combinations at least once every time.

I can’t promise you that we won't fight or that we won't have our ups and downs but I will promise that we’ll work it out, that we’re not going to bed with grudges, to talk about our problems and thoughts and to always make up. I promise to be your partner in crime and to take all the blame if we ever get caught and lastly, and most importantly...

I promise to love you more and more until my heart stops beating, even when the day comes that we're old and grey, I promise to always see you with the same eyes and the same heart that I see you with at this exact moment.” You took a deep breath to try and stop your sobbing. Now it was Charlie's turn to wipe away some tears.

“Baby, don’t cry your makeup will get ruined.” he joked and you let out a small laugh. “Charlie, I believe now it's your turn to speak your vow.”

He took a shaky breath in before taking a folded piece of paper from the inside of his tuxedo pocket. “I want to start off with a simple I love you. I love the way you still give me butterflies every time I see you. I love the way you care not only for me but for everyone around you. I love the way you're patient with me. I love how much you're willing to try new things with me to make me happy because you really didn't like swimming with sharks. I admire how hard you work to help others and above all, I love how you love me.

It's in the way you look at me with such patience and compassion, the way you listen to me even if I'm rambling on, the way you push me to try harder even when I feel like I've done enough. You love me without judgment and chose to see the beauty in my flaws. Today, I want to make promises to you that I will always keep. I promise to love you back forever and harder each day. I promise never to get angry at you for making honest mistakes, even if I asked you to turn the lights off every night for the past week...

I promise to never stop holding your hand or give you a goodbye kiss. I promise to walk through life, as your biggest fan, your shoulder to lean on, and your best friend and I vow to stay silly, to never take ourselves too seriously, and stay just immature enough for cake and breakfast for dinner.

You're my soldier, my lover and above all, my best friend and I'm so excited to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Both of you were grinning and crying like idiots. “Now can we have the rings please?” the officiant asked the crowd and a teary-eyed Owen stepped forward the rings clutched in his hands.

“Thank you.” the officiant gave each of you a ring. “Do you Y/N Y/L/ want to take this man as your husband in sickness and in health?”

“I do.” You smiled up at Charlie and slid the ring on his left ring finger. “Oh good it fits,” you murmured and made him chuckle.

“And do you Charlie Gillespie want to take this woman as your wife in sickness and in health?”

“I do.” He grinned widely and also slid the ring on your left hand.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Charlie, you may kiss the bride.” Your lips locked with his and you couldn't be happier. Your hands found their way into his hair while his hands gripped your waist. His lips were soft and warm and you missed them dearly in the night the two of you were apart. The crowd cheered when he dipped you.

“I present to you for the first time Mr and Mrs Gillespie!”

[sweetsbfreex]

the cat burglar

“I’m excited for you to meet her,” you laughed, taking your key from your clutch. 

“I’m excited too lovie,” Harry whispered, bending– his upper body– down to wrap both his arms around your waist into your ear. 

You pushed yourself back playfully, laughing at the small grunt Harry had let out, as he laughed out a ‘menace’ your way biting the love of your ear softly. 

You had both just came from a night out, filled with touches, laughs, and giggles. You had asked him to not only come to your place for the first time, but stay through the night as well. You had a special furry friend you had wanted him to finally meet in person, holding the introduction back for a while. 

Opening and entering through the threshold, you put your clutch down on the small rounded table near the door, toeing your sneakers off. 

“Kiko, come here cutie,” you say, puckering your lips out as you make quick kissing noises. 

At that, the Russian Blue kitty made its way to you, emerging from the dark hallway, meowing as she sped up. 

You smiled down at her, reaching down as you picked up her up to lay in your arms. Her head perked up. One arm holding her up from the bottom while the other stroked her back. 

“Meet Harry cutie,” you say smiling at Harry who you could see smiling down at the feline in your arms, reaching his hand out to pet her forehead moving down to her chin. 

“Hi,” he said, introducing himself sillily. 

“Ooh got a purr from her, impressive,” you said. 

Kiko reached a paw outwards Harry, laying it flatly over Harry’s face precisely over his dimple.

“She likes you,” you murmured, kissing Kiko on her head.

“She’s very sweet” Harry stated, rising to his full height. Kiko’s paw falling from his face, bringing his hand once again to pet the top of her head. 

You weren’t surprised at all with Kiko taking a liking to Harry, she has basically liked anyone that came over. But, looking at the way her and Harry interacted you could feel the boulder levitate off your shoulders. You watched as he whispered compliments to her. 

“Do you wanna go upstairs?” you asked him. 

He smiled at that, “Lead the way.” 

That said, you set your cat on ground, in result getting a disapproving meow from her. Grabbing Harry’s hand you lead him down the hallway to your bedroom. On the way you could hear Harry chuckling. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, looking back at him over your shoulders.

“Yea...,” he laughs some more “Kiko’s just trying to trip me it seems.”

You look down, and there crawling in between his moving legs was she. Meowing as she followed you both. 

When you had made it to your bedroom door, you let Harry shuffle behind you to enter your bedroom. In the meantime, you used your foot to block the grey cat.

“Not you,” you whisper to her, squatting down as you pet behind her ear. “I’m glad you like H, but you can’t come in,” you inclined quickly, kissing her head before entering your room closing the door after yourself. 

“Everything all right?” he asked, walking over to you.

“Oh yea she’s just used to coming in here whenever she pleases.”

“Perfect,” he said, speeding the rest of the way towards you. He lifted you up swiftly, placing his hands under your thighs. 

You supported yourself, holding onto Harry’s upper arms. “Nice” you leer, squeezing him between your hands. 

“Glad you noticed” he chuckled lowly, laying you flat on the bed abruptly.

“You ready?” he asked, his fingers gripping loosely on the hem of your top. 

“Mhm,” you replied, one hand reaching to his zipper. 

-

You both hadn’t started yet, his mouth was on your neck, and only your top was off when Harry pulled away abruptly. 

“Do you hear that?” he asked breathlessly, looking down at your stupefied expression.

“No, what is it?” 

“Listen.” Bringing one finger to his ear. 

A loud, stretched out meow brought you out of your confusion. You had no doubt it was Kiko at the door, probably pawing at the door. 

“It’s fine. She’s just dramatic” you inclined, pulling him down by the back of his neck. 

He pulled away from you again, a look of slight embarrassment on his face. 

“Angel” he hummed, kissing your forehead. 

“Hm”

“I lost my stiffy,” he sighed, sitting up on his knees.

“It’s fine,” you laughed, sitting up. “I don’t blame you for no wanting to have sex with a bunch of cat sounds. Do you mind if I let her in?”

“No go ahead. Let her in” he got off the bed, reaching down for his discarded tee. While you walked over to your closet, pulling some random shirt onto you. Once you had that done, you walked over to the door, pulling it wide open for Kiko. She had breezed past you quickly making her way to your bed. 

‘You freaking cockblock’ is what you thought to yourself as she walked past you as if you were a dirty litter box. 

You rolled your eyes, turning away as you closed the door softly, walking over to really the picture-perfect painting. 

Harry was laid on his back feet crossed. As Kiko purred soothingly, her head laid on his upper arm (She was definitely your baby.) While Harry’s arm wrapped around her body so his fingers combed through his soft coat. His head angled so he could eye the cutie. 

“Glad to see she’s happy now,” you mutter. Laying down on your back, turning your head to Harry. 

“Three of us could cuddle for the night?” straightening the arm that was petting Kiko to make a grabby gesture towards you. 

You laughed shyly, bringing yourself as close to Harry as you could with Kiko in between the two of you. 

Not the most typical first night over, but what did you really expect. 

-

It was the next morning; You had woken up to a gravelly high-pitched morning voice. Opening your eyes bewildered as Kiko was laid on her back her paws playfully attacking Harry’s hand who was teasing her as he lowered, but quickly pulled away, his hand from her stomach. 

“Good morning,” you said lowly, bringing the blanket higher to hide half of your face. 

“Good morning. Why are you hiding beautiful?” he asked, hooking his finger into the space where the blanket hid around your nose. 

Kiko pounced up from the sound of your voice, crawling over, giving you her version of morning kisses. Reaching your hand up to pet her under his chin. “Hi cutie,” you hummed. 

“And I’m not hiding. I just woke up, can’t have you breaking up with me so quickly,” you laugh at the look of offense on his face. 

“You are something else,” he laughs with you. Leaning over, pulling the blanket down to kiss you slowly on the lips.  

“I thought you had something planned today?”

“Was I that bad of a house guest?” he asks back, laying on his side, his head supported up with his knuckles. 

“Shut up” you sigh, looking as Kiko had jumped over and back, Harry’s torso, as if he was a hurdle. 

“I am...Just didn’t want to leave without saying bye to you”

“It’s like some Troy Bolton spirit entered you. Thirteen year old me would’ve freaked” you cringed when the words left your mouth. But, the embarrassment subsided when Harry laughed. 

“I’m wayyy better than that guy.”

“Of course you are” you started sitting up, taking hold of his hands, and interlocking them. “You want breakfast before you go?”

“Yes please,” he sang, taking you with him to the kitchen. 

-

Now you were both stood in front your door, full on the breakfast Harry had helped you make. He had his face in between your hands, holding it still as he kisses your cheek repeatedly. 

“Harry!” you laughed, bringing your hands up to hold onto to. his forearms. 

“I’m gonna miss you” he expressed inarticulately against your cheek. 

“I’m gonna miss you too” you cooed. “But can i kiss you kiss you now”

He let go at your special request “I’m all yours,” a bright smile on his face. Waiting for his round of kisses with his arms spread out wide. And you would’ve if it wasn’t for the former cock-block that couldn’t help but try with all her might to climb up Harry’s jeans. 

The pads of her feet and crescendoing got his eye, so he leant down to cradle her in his arms. “Couldn’t forget about you. Could I?” he mumbled, petting her tummy softly all while Kiko purred in pleasure. 

“Okay. Okay me time now.”

Harry snickered, keeping one arm to coddle Kiko to his chest, as he brought the other to wrap around your neck pulling you in for exactly three long kisses. 

“I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow though, baby,” he said while settling Kiko to the ground. He kissed you one more time turning around as he opened the door. 

“Bye, I love you.”

He smiled loving those words that left your mouth easily. “I love you too” he shouted walking backwards then turned around once he finished the words of affirmation. 

He waved from his car, backing away as he drove off quickly. You slammed the door then. 

The incessant sad meowing was what made you looked down. Kiko standing on her back paws as the front ones supported her, as she laid them against the door. Meowing non-stop after Harry was your guess. 

“I know. I know” you muttered bitterly, picking her up so you both were face to face. “I miss him too, but he is my boyfriend missy.”

She meowed as a rebuttal ‘Yeah well I want him’

“We’re not fighting about this, he’s mine baby” you told her kissing her head, she definitely didn’t like the sound of that as she meowed once again in disbelief. 

You set her back down. Expecting her to quickly dash to the scratching post she loved so much, but instead she revolved herself so she was facing the door, meowing (most likely for Harry to come back). 

You stood there shocked at her change in behavior. You had only caught her acting like this when you left for work on the security camera. 

Pulling your phone from your back pocket, you called Harry quickly. 

“Only gone for five seconds miss me already“ from the distance in his voice and all the scratchiness in the background, you knew he had been using his Bluetooth. 

“You broke my cat!”

“Excuse me?”

“Kiko has been bawling at the door ever since you left my place.”

“Just the Styles charm baby!”

-

Harry came back the next day. Greeting you with a kiss and placing a box of sweets into your hands. The sound of Harry’s deep voice catching the eye of Kiko who had sprinted from the living room all the way to the front door. Running laps around Harry, her tail touching his leg softly. 

“Go ahead into the living room. I’ll get the food ready.”

You walked yourself to the kitchen. There lay both of bowls of snacks you had for the both of you. Turning your head slightly, you Watched Kiko follow behind Harry, as if he was the line leader. 

Though it had only been less than twenty-four hours, you were nothing but elated to just lay down next to or on top of Harry– as long as you were close– and just indulge in whatever you both chose to watch. 

When you had finally walked into the living room. Setting the bowls and drinks on the coffee table near Harry’s feet. Just as you set the bowls down and were meant to sit next to Harry the view you had saw had bursted your heart.

Harry was slouched into the couch. His feet kicked up on the coffee table– Crossed. His hands cupped the content feline’s face– fingers rubbing wherever they could reach. Whom at the time was stretched vertically in Harry’s lap. Legs stretched out and her paws laying over his chest. 

They got along very quick. 

You smiled at the pair, walking towards them. Sitting next to Harry. You reached your hand down to pet K’s head with your finger softly. When you were finished giving her your full attention, you looked towards Harry going to put your arms around him, when a small paw was placed on the side of your torso and a meow of discontent was echoed in the air. 

You pulled away bamboozled. Harry tries to hold back his smile and the newly possessive cat. 

“Did she just?–” you stopped there, deciding to test the waters again, leaning into Harry for a kiss when the same exact thing happened again. 

When you pulled away again, she eyed you carefully, meowing for an extra measure, placing herself higher on top of Harry, so her head was nestled into his cheek. 

“I can’t believe this” you slant your head closer to Kiko’s “You boyfriend stealer” pointing your finger right at her, which she had fun-lovingly batted away. Turning her attention back on Harry who had a stupidly cute smirk on his face. 

“Got your mum jealous. Impressive,” He said to Kiko, bringing his finger up to boop her nose. 

“You guys are unbelievable” you rolling your eyes, huffing to yourself. 

For weeks and years to come of you being together K’s possessiveness of course lightened. But, if she ever caught you and Harry in some sort of embrace, she’d be quick to sprint to Harry’s lap. Side eying you as Harry gave her his affection. Throwing it in your face more. Looking at you smugly– if you could say so yourself– as you sat astonished and to yourself.

Or the times you and Harry gave each other space instead of cuddling on the couch together. She would lay on Harry, eyes wide, as she eyed you carefully. Just making sure you weren’t going to try anything on her man.

[thequeenindisguise]

SOMEWHERE IN NEVERLAND (ICHIRUKI AU)

Here it is! My first and probably last entry for Ichiruki Month 2021... to be more specific, it’s for Day 11 with the prompt “What do you dream of?”  

I think the last time I participated was like, what? Five years ago? Yikes. I didn’t even improve haha and okay, I know somewhere, sometime ago, someone has already done this AU though. And this was based off the amazing work of jon-lock from deviant art so this would look like crap next to his work. I mean I suck at coloring and at a bunch of other things, I know! But I just really felt like doing this. 

I was actually thinking of writing a fic about it, but if I’m the one doing it, it’s probably going to be multi-chaptered and I just can’t commit to that. So if you know of any fics or fanart with the same theme, hope you can link them to me 😊 I’d really love to dive myself in them.

But despite saying that, it didn’t stop me from writing this silly one-shot called Somewhere In Neverland feel free to read and review there, if you have the time.

And now, if you read through all that, thank you so much for your time! Be safe, hope you enjoy the rest of your day and the rest of Ichiruki Month :D

And now for some more story time, you don’t need to read through this. It will be just me sharing some personal stuff… So feel free to move on with your life without this. Seriously. You can stop here if you just accidentally pressed the keep reading button, you are forgiven 😊

Oh… you’re still reading? Okay, then. So I’ve been really depressed lately, more on because my current job sucks, I just lost the opportunity to get my dream job, the pandemic’s still on-going and I just feel like nothing’s really going on with my life (T.T) I’m broke AF, it’s hard to fall asleep, my face is all pimply, I’ve gained a lot of weight and basically, this is just a low point for me. 

Okay, I know that there are other people with much bigger problems than what I’m going through right now so I just try to deal with it on my own. I made a fanart, just to feel like I’m focusing on something and I actually finished the thing just to ease my mind of my worries. It was kinda therapeutic and I kind of like the feeling of actually accomplishing something. And I even mustered up the courage to join the discord server for IR. My anti-social ass was proud of that. I was even thinking of posting this fanart there just to show everyone that I really appreciate them for welcoming me but at the last minute I chickened out but ended up posting it here? I don’t know either. I’m weird like that. Even though everyone there seemed really fun and supportive, I just… didn’t want to ruin the vibe with my negative aura (the latest chapter was enough to trigger everyone. Didn’t wanna add to that).

Anyway, thinking about these past horrible days and listening to some really sad songs, because why not add to the drama? I was listening to one song about running away to “Neverland” and it got me thinking wouldn’t it be great if I were to just stay a kid forever? That way I wouldn’t have to deal with the pressures of adulthood. Then I thought about Wendy from Neverland and somehow I remembered that on that 2nd Disney movie, she grew up. And to confirm it, I just had to search for that clip on youtube. And yes, it was the part where Peter saw her as an adult and oh god, I kid you not, I started bawling. One, because I didn’t realize that I ship them… oops… and I wondered if Wendy, even as an adult, ever thought of what it’d be like if she had stayed in Neverland. Then I also found this deleted scene from the live action movie which showed Peter reuniting with her, hoping to take her back but he couldn’t anymore because she’s all grown up, and he was so heartbroken by it but then she introduces him to her daughter, with who he takes with him (weird? Maybe that was why it was deleted haha).

And so, I’ve been thinking about it a lot and as always I ended up thinking about Bleach and IR because of the new chapter and all (which wasn’t released yet back then). And I wondered what would it be like if they were in Peter pan and Wendy’s shoes—but first off, I didn’t think Ichigo would fit the role of not growing up because I don’t know, despite being a teen, he looked matured and kinda scary? Kids would never go with him. He’ll be better as the Grinch of Christmas because kids would probably feel like they’ll be bullied even though he’s a nice guy. And so I realize, oh it’s better if we switch them up and make Rukia Peter Pan because she’d be looking young forever while Ichigo grows old (which was what I was expecting from Bleach but somehow they all seem to be aging at the same time now, with all the marriages and the making babies or whatever) And to parallel the manga I realized that maybe having Ichigo live his life (in the world of the living) and have a family would probably be something that Rukia would be really proud of and would be happy to see (Okay, hold up. Just to be clear, I still don’t like the ending for so many other reasons but if it had to go down with Ichigo making a family WITHOUT Rukia then this better be the damn reason for it and that’s to protect him by making him live a normal and safe life before they reunite again in SS. I rest my case.).

And so I connect all this to Day 11 – What do you dream of? Because, well, since the prompt really is up to interpretation… it can be like a “dream” in life? Or just maybe a dream at night? Anyway, this is what I dreamt of literally. Again, I’ve been thinking about it all the time lately  so I had to let it out. And of course, in relation to IR and in this AU setting, they probably dream of being together too (both in life and at night haha) <3

And that’s about it. I just want to leave this long message here so that when the time comes that I feel so much better, I’ll know what I was going through behind this not-so-good-but-a-little-better-than-my-other-works-so-far fanart and that one-shot that I tried my best to write despite my writing skills being very rusty, and know that it will be alright someday and that I’ll probably get through it whatever it was that I’m going through at this moment.

If you’ve reached until the end then wow. Bless your kind soul really and hope you have a great dinner and of course, thank you for lending me your ears or eyes (since you had to read). I may not know you but I really, really appreciate your time 😊

[dokoni-mo]

Where Is My Friend || Platonic! Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Summary: You and Izuku walk home together.

SFW // angst to light fluff

Word Count: 1915

WARNINGS: swearing, crying, all might slander, allusions to su*cide, otherwise none

A/N: i hate all might as a teacher. sometimes i just wanna reach through the screen and punch him for the things he tells izuku to do. this is why i made this.

~~

Izuku was late again that day, and this time you were more disappointed than mad.

With each student that passed by you and through the gates, you grew more and more irritated. You were trying to hide your annoyed expression by burying it in your phone, scrolling mindlessly through the various apps you had downloaded. Every now and again, you would check through your messages again, double and triple checking that you hadn't somehow missed a text from Izuku.

Every time, there was nothing.

Your brow furrowed when you checked it for the fifth time, forcing you to let out a silent frustrated sigh.

Izu, are you ready to go?

I'm out front

Are you still coming?

Hellloooo??? Where are you???

You promised, Izuku.

All of these messages, and no reply.

This wasn't a new occurrence. Every single day it was like this, and you would oftentimes just go home alone in silence. Izuku would always call and text to apologize to you afterwards, though.

At first you would pick up the phone. But, it slowly became less and less, to eventually nothing at all.

You were angry for a long time, but it all eventually boiled down into a soft, quiet frustration. You wondered to yourself a lot why you even bothered trying anymore. Those thoughts eventually drifted off into memories of middle school, and that quiet, timid, nerdy boy that you made your best friend.

You wondered where that boy went.

You looked up from your phone and looked at the campus around you. The area was bathed in an orange light, giving everything a warm and cozy glow. It was a beautiful spring afternoon, one that you would unfortunately most likely spend alone. Looking back down at your phone, you checked the time. It was getting somewhat late, and you knew your parents would start to worry about you if you didn't head back soon.

Five more minutes. You would give him five more minutes.

Letting out another sigh through your nose, you continued to scroll through your apps, not paying too close attention to what you were seeing. Every other second, you would peer up at the top of the screen, hoping to see the familiar bar of a notification up there.

None ever came.

A handful of photos and news articles later, and you decided to call it a quits. It had been more than five minutes, and there was still no sign of Izuku. Not one single thing.

Fuck it. You were going home.

Clicking your phone to sleep and putting it in your jacket pocket, you squared your backpack on your shoulders and stepped down the stairs of the front entrance, staring ahead at the gate with a blank expression.

Going to U.A. was you and his dream as kids. You remembered how the two of you would draw pictures of your hero costumes together, how you would spend hours of the phone coming up with the ideal schedule the two of you would have and what classes you would take.

Where did all that go? All those late nights? All those days the two of you got bullied? All those times you would tell Bakugou to fuck off when he was mean to Izuku? All the times Izuku told you to be nicer to Kacchan?

Was it all for nothing?

Were you just a memory now?

Were you not good enough to be his friend anymore?

All because of his new quirk?

It's not fair.

Not fair.

Not fair.

Not fai-

"Y/N!" you heard a voice from behind you shout, along with the rapid tapping of shoes against concrete.

It was him.

You stopped in your tracks and turned around, looking at him with a somewhat surprised expression. His green hair was the usual mess, and he was somewhat sweatier than normal. He ran quickly to catch up with you, breathing heavily once he was by your side.

You looked down at him in silence, your face unchanging.

"I'm-I'm so sorry I'm late!" He exclaimed, getting better control over his breathing, "I-I was just taking off my costume after hero training today and one of the teachers wanted to talk to me after and I-"

"It's getting late." You said, cutting him off, "We should get going."

You started to walk towards the gate again, and Izuku stared at you with a somewhat confused expression.

"Right..." he responded quietly, following by your side.

The two of you walked in silence for a good, long while. Izuku would keep looking at you to try and grab your attention, but you ignored him every time. You kept your gaze trained on your feet on the sidewalk, his red shoes in your peripheral.

You didn't want to talk. You just wanted to go home.

Go home and never talk to anyone again.

Izuku tried giving you one of his bright, warm smiles, but you ignored that too. As much as you didn't want to admit it, Izuku didn't smile the same anymore. There was something always behind his smile, something that you couldn't quite figure out.

The two of you used to share everything together, and now he was doing nothing but keeping secrets from you. You were quick to notice this, and you began to do your own digging.

You were observant, you always had been.

What you saw, you knew no one would believe you, though.

You just kept it to yourself, leaving it to rot deep inside you and plant its seeds of bad.

It was eating you alive, and you were angry.

"It's uhh..." Izuku said next to you, "It's a pretty day outside, isn't it?"

You said nothing and just kept staring down at your feet.

"It was a fun day at school too, huh?"

Nothing.

"What class did you like most?" I really liked Mr. Aizawa's today. I like it when he tells stories about his time at U.A."

Nothing.

"I also really liked All Might's cla-"

"Don't."

Izuku was definitely taken aback by your sudden, harsh response, his smile instantly fading away and his brows arching downwards.

"What... (Y/N), wh-what do you mean-"

You stopped walking abruptly, giving Izuku a glare through your lashes.

"Do not mention that man."

Izuku stopped walking too, looking at you with confusion and a touch of shock.

"You mean All Might? (Y/N), why? I thought you loved him as much as I-"

"I don't fucking love him anymore, Izuku!" you snapped, "But how would you know, huh? HOW?"

"(Y/N), what are you saying?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Izuku!" you threw your backpack off your shoulders, the extra weight only adding to your fury, "Even before we got into this shitty fucking school, you've done nothing but fucking blow me off and ignore me! I try to call, you don't answer. I try to text, you don't answer. I go over to your fucking house looking for you, and you're not there either! Do you have any clue how fucking lonely that makes me feel?! Knowing my best friend, my ONLY friend, wants nothing to do with me?!"

Izuku slid off his backpack too, his expression now more worried than anything, "(Y/N), I wasn't trying to ignore you. I-I just-"

"Just what Izuku. Just where have you been, hm? Tell me."

The green haired boy's gaze fell to the ground.

"I... I can't."

You raised your hands up and let them drop to your sides, a laugh of disbelief bubbling out of your throat.

"Fine, I'll finish it for you. You've been hanging out with fucking All Might, haven't you?"

Izuku's gaze shot back up to you, his eyes wide. He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.

"Ah- don't even goddamn try. I know you have been, Izuku. Do you think I'm fucking stupid? Do you think I'm fucking naieve? I fucking see how you two talk to each other. How you have lunch with him every goddamned fucking day. How he always focuses on you during training. How he keeps you after school."

Izuku just simply looked at you in silence, trying to process what to say.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, but you decided to continue anyway, "And I know, I know he's been putting shit in your head. Not letting you think for yourself, telling you that it's okay to hurt yourself. How it's noble and honorable to be bedridden for fucking weeks to save people. How you should never prioritize yourself. Well goddamn it it's WRONG Izuku! It's fucking wrong! It's wrong to tell a kid that. It's wrong to take him away from his friends. It's wrong to have fucking favorites!"

You were full on crying now, and probably looked completely out of your goddamned mind.

You didn't care.

"He was my hero too, Izuku!" you continued on, hot tears pouring down your face, "But more importantly you were my hero! You were the only person in that shitty fucking middle school that I could confide in. You were the only friend I had, and that fucking bitch took you from me! Every day I go home and beg for my friend to come back to me. I don't give a single fuck what that old man says, I need my friend back! I'm so tired of it! I'm tired of feeling like nothing, like no one wants to be around me anymore! I'm t-tired, I'm... I...."

Unable to keep yourself together anymore, you fell onto your knees and sat back on your ankles, wiping your face on the back of your hands and wrists as you sobbed.

"I just... I miss you, Izuku."

You broke down again after that, crying there on the ground for a good minute. This was probably embarrassing the hell out of you, but you didn't care anymore. You didn't care about anything anymore. You were certain that Izuku would want nothing to do with you anymore. You just both dissed him and his number one idol.

There was no hope for you and him now.

After sitting there for a good minute bawling your eyes out, Izuku gently knelt down in front of you. You could feel his big, green eyes on your face, but you didn't look up at him. From your blurred vision, you couldn't tell how he was looking at you, but you figured it couldn't be good.

You were wrong.

Suddenly and without warning, you felt two strong arms wrap around your fame, your head being pulled into a chest covered with a uniform shirt and tie. Your cries softening, you were quick to realize who they all belonged to.

Izuku.

"(Y/N)," he said, his voice soft but firm, "I didn't know you felt that way. You are my best friend, too. I didn't mean to forget about you. I was never trying to make you feel that way."

Izuku hugged you tighter, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"From now on, I promise I'll always make time for you. You're my hero too, (Y/N). Without you with me in middle school, I... I would have..."

You didn't need to hear him finish for you to connect the dots.

After along moment of fleeting, renowned silence, you wrapped your arms around the boy, holding him tight against you.

You vowed to yourself then and there, that you would never ever let him go again.

[browniefox]

@wrightfamilyweek day 1 - Pride and Joy :D

This is a sequel to my oneshot ‘Trucy and the Week Long Paranoia Game’ that you can read here.

Phoenix and Trucy talk about reasons for adopting someone.

oOo

It’s the end of a week of fear and worry and anxiety, and twenty-four hours spent on a plane. A moment of silence from all the questions rattling through her head, with Mr. Miles Edgeworth behind her, and now Trucy is back in California, back home, and her daddy is right there. The next thing to do is all too clear.

Trucy hugs her daddy and cries.

After Trucy has bawled into Daddy’s shoulder for what feels like a week and Daddy’s tears have drenched her hair, and her face has been covered in layers and layers of kisses, Daddy finally pulls away from her, a clear reluctance to the action, and grabs onto Miles’ hand. Then, with a quick and sudden yank that makes the man stumble, Daddy pulls Miles into hug too.

“God, Miles, really, thank you.” Daddy says fervently, insistently.

“Nnngh, o-of course.” Miles says. His words come out a little haltingly, but he returns the hug almost immediately.

“If… if you’re already here, you know, you should stay for a bit.” Daddy tells Miles. With them hugging like that, Trucy bets that Miles can’t see Daddy’s face, how hopeful it looks right then.

“... perhaps you’re right. It’s a long trip across the ocean, and a hard one to make in quick succession like your daughter just has. Perhaps we could meet up… tomorrow?” Miles offers.

“Well, my office-”

“Does not have nearly enough room to put up another person. I’ll see you tomorrow, Wright. Go home and… and talk to your daughter.” Miles’ eyes flicker over to her and he whispers something into Daddy’s ear. Daddy nods, looks at her too, and then nods again.

“Okay,” Daddy gives Miles a pat on the back, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Trucy sees how Daddy’s hand lingers on Miles shoulder for one, two, three seconds before he steps back to Trucy. He ruffles her hair and gives her forehead yet another kiss and squishes her face in his hands, all familiar actions from him, all things he’s done before. Something feels off about each and every one of them. She isn’t sure what makes them different. Maybe it’s him. Maybe it’s her.

It must be her. Her fault. From running away.

Trucy still feels gross from the plane ride, and there’s a brief moment where she thinks she might just throw up again. She doesn’t. What she does do is grab onto Daddy’s hand, holding onto it tightly. Her hand fits perfectly like that. Daddy squeezes her hand back just as tightly. With that, the two of them and Miles walk out of the airport.

There’s a big man waiting for them outside. She recognizes him, but only barely. His name is far more familiar to Trucy, the Detective Dick Gumshoe of Daddy’s old case files, the man who worked most of the murders that Daddy’s clients were accused of. Daddy had shown her a picture of the Detective, once, and told her that if she was ever in trouble and needed police help, she should talk to Gumshoe, because Gumshoe is a good man, and a friend, and she can trust him. Unless she’s been arrested, in which case nobody is her friend and she shouldn’t say or do anything until she’s talked to a lawyer.

(Trucy remembers right after her First Daddy disappeared how a bunch of policemen tried to talk to her about it, and her Daddy - then just Phoenix Wright, just the old boy who she’d handed off a piece of paper to and was supposed to help her First Daddy - telling her that she didn’t have to say anything, didn’t have to tell the policemen anything, even if they were being really mean or really nice or kept asking the same questions or it was going on for a really long time. He told her that just before policemen took him away so they could talk to him, too.)

“Oh good, she is okay,” Gumshoe sighs in relief, visibly slumping with emotion. He then sees Miles and his back straightens right out, “Mr. Edgeworth, sir, good to see you again!”

“Likewise, Gumshoe.” Miles says, his mouth twitching into a bare-bones smile. Despite its thin appearance, the expression has an odd kind of warmth to it that surprises Trucy. Miles had been kind throughout the entire flight, but also clearly uncomfortable, not talking to her much. He seemed to try and distract himself with anything and everything he could, but there was a tension and rigidness throughout his entire form from the moment the plane took off until it landed. He kept looking at her almost like he expected her to explode, like a bomb. Now, though, Miles looks much more in control of himself as well as his surroundings, “I’ll admit, however, that I’m surprised to find the police already on this case. I thought a missing person couldn’t be reported until twenty-four hours have passed.”

“Well, not officially, no, but I might’ve seen what I could do, you know, just with my own time.” Gumshoe says, scratching the back of his head. Daddy grins and pats Gumshoe on the back.

“Dick came running as soon as he heard. Really put up with me those first twelve hours.” Daddy says.

“Well, just because police work slow doesn’t mean we always have to! And, well, it’s your girl, we all know how much you worry about her.”

The three adults talk some more, but the sound of their voices seems to fade away as Trucy stares down at her shoes. Daddy was worried about her. Of course he was, but he’d been worried the entire time. She feels silly, now, for having run away, for having doubted him. But even then, even now, she isn’t sure what he wants from her. ‘Nothing’ is the answer, apparently, but still, still the other shoe feels like it’s hovering at eye-level, just waiting to drop.

Daddy’s still holding her hand. She gives it a squeeze, and he squeezes it back, and she tunes back into the three talking adults.

“Well, since I’m here, I can give you a ride to wherever it is you need to get to!” Gumshoe offers Miles.

“Hm, I already ordered a ride, but perhaps you could drive me by the prosecutor’s office before I head to my hotel. Wright, why don’t you take my ride.” Miles offers. Daddy stiffens slightly, in that way he does when a game looks like it’s starting to slip through his fingers, or when people on the street give him weird looks and start whispering and she gives his hand yet another squeeze.

“Miles, I really don’t-”

“Wright, it’s already been paid for. I, of course, have no issue letting such a frivolous amount of money go by, but there’s little to no reason to let something like this pass you by when you’re this far from the office at this hour of night, when most buses have already stopped working.” Miles says it with swiftness and clarity, leaving no room for argument. Daddy, however, still looks like he might try and argue anyway, so Trucy adds in her own opinion, tugging, Daddy’s arm a little and saying,

“Daddy, I wanna go home.”

The stubborn-expression that had been forming onto his face melts away almost immediately.

“Alright, let’s go home.” He says.

Daddy exchanges another hug with Miles and then one with Gumshoe. Gumshoe puts out his hand to give Trucy a handshake, but she gives him a big hug anyway and he chuckles, something that shakes through his entire chest, that she can feel when held up against it like that. It’s very nice. She might just like Gumshoe. Miles starts to go for a handshake, then aborts it halfway through, and gives her an awkward pat on the head.

“Be good for your father.” He says with a certain amount of ferventness.

“I will.” She tells him. She grabs the sleeve of his shirt and pulls on it until he catches on and kneels down to her level. Then, she gives him a pat on the head right back. He looks surprised, and Daddy laughs. Miles surprised expression morphs into a scowl, but there’s no heat behind it as he stands back up, rolling his shoulders and crossing his arms.

“I’ll be off then. I shall stop by your office tomorrow around noon. Please try and tidy it up, Maya tells me you’ve made the place into a hellscape.” He says hauntily.

“No promises.” Daddy says.

Miles and Gumshoe leave, and then she and daddy climb into a car. The stranger in the front offers them his ipad to play games on, but Daddy rejects it.  Trucy mainly stares out the window, and when she looks over, Daddy is too. His hand is out, though, still holding onto hers.

The car drops them off at the hotel across from the office, and they cross the street and climb the stairs back to home. The night is dark and quiet, and Trucy can’t help but to think it feels like a calm before a storm. She’s seen Daddy frustrated before, and get in fights with others before, but  she doesn’t think she’s ever seen him be well and truly mad. Now was probably as good a time as any, though. She wonders if it’ll be like Grandpa’s anger, all cold and silent. Maybe it’ll be like first Daddy’s, loud and raging, just barely a second away from throwing something.

“I know you’re tired, Trucy, but we need to talk.” Daddy says before Trucy can slip into her room. Slowly, she walks away from her door. He’s sitting on the couch, and he pats the spot next to him. She hops up. Daddy runs a hand over his face, feeling the stubble on his chin. He’s looking straight forward, not at her.

“Yes Daddy?” Trucy says. Daddy sighs, ending back on the couch, now looking up at the ceiling.

“... Trucy, you know I want what’s best for you, right?”

Trucy doesn’t know what to say to that at first, and the moment stretches on for far far too long. Daddy sighs again.

“I know that, but…” Trucy bites on her lip, “But isn’t there something else you want?”

“‘Something else I want’?” Daddy repeats. Trucy is avoiding looking at him. Her heart has relocated to her throat and her stomach is doing somersaults.

“I-it’s okay, I know I’m… but whatever it is you want from me, I just wanna know, okay?” Trucy swings her feet.

“Truce, why do you think I want something from you?” Daddy presses. Trucy shrugs and swings her feet harder.

“That’s what parents do. And after I… after what I…” She tries and tries and tries to say she gave him the piece of paper that got him disbarred, that she knows she did, that she’s really really sorry about it, but the words all stick to her tongue and get bungled up inside of her. Her face is getting hot, and her eyes are getting hot, and her chest feels like it’s going to explode.

“... Trucy, if you’re not happy here, you know you just have to tell me. Your happiness is what’s most important, okay?”

“But I am happy here!” Trucy wails, and just like that the flood gates give way and she starts sobbing. She turns and grabs onto her Daddy, crying into his soft gray hoodie, and he wraps her up in another hug, holding her close to him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, hey it’s alright, I’m right here.” He says, a constant mumbling mantra. And he is right there, and he’s nice,and great, and willing to listen to her, and play with her. He’s not perfect, but he’s definitely trying, she can see that, she knows that.

“... j-j-just please, tell-tell me what you w-w-want from me! Please, Daddy!” Trucy cries, trembling, “M-Miles says you don’t want anything, b-but-but that can’t be right! You-you gotta want something! I-is it my help-help-help with poker? Is it revenge against my Daddy somehow? Is-is-is it something else! Please just t-t-t-tell me!” Trucy buries her face even more into him. He’s rubbing circles into her back, making little soothing ‘shush’ing sounds. He doesn’t say anything until she’s quieted down a bit.

“I guess I should’ve expected it was something big. Why else would you go all the way to Germany over it, huh?” He mumbles, “Truce, I didn’t have some kind of secret or evil motive behind taking you in. You were a kid, all alone. It wasn’t really a choice at all. I know what it’s like, to feel like the whole world is against you, and you’re alone and little and confused about what’s going on. I didn’t even think about how it might’ve looked to you. Or, well, I guess Miles brought it up, but I didn’t want to think about it.

“I… I am selfish, maybe, for wanting you to stay here. Trucy, you’re one of the few good things that have come to me in the past year, alright? Seeing you perform, seeing your smile, hearing your laughter… it means the world to me, okay? And if you’re not happy here - no, let me finish - if you’re not happy here, we can find somewhere where you can be, okay? I know I’m not like Zak; I don’t let you perform whenever you want, and I try to keep more track of your location, and I imagine it must be hard adjusting to my rules instead of the ones you were raised with. But I’m willing to learn and get better. And if that means starting with telling you that you matter to me, Trucy, that I love you, and that my reason for adopting you and keeping you around is just because I love you and the light you give my life, then I’ll start there, okay?”

Daddy gives her a small smile. He’s so open right now, and honest, no little tells twitching upon him.

Trucy squeezes onto his lap and lets herself be held for even longer.

Daddy isn’t Grandpa, or first Daddy, or Vallant, or anybody from the circus. He’s just Daddy, and maybe Trucy is still trying to figure out what htat means, but Daddy is trying to figure that out too.

They’re going to figure it out together.

“I love you, Daddy,” She tells him, “And I’m not going anywhere.”

[lukesperfectharmonyhair]

im rewatching jatp instead of studying for the 3 tests i have tomorrow and i thought i would share my thoughts and reactions with each episode so enjoy!!....

wake up

- hearing the “1, 2, 3″ at the start of the episode gives me more serotonin than my antidepressants ever will

- julie’s slippers...that’s it...that’s the thought

- that dry ass pasta the molina’s are eating for dinner??? someone needs to give my man ray some cooking tips or a cookbook... something

-the looks the boys give julie when she says it was an OLD cd she found. as if they could be old??

-the entire julie and luke kitchen scene i mean there are no words to describe how much i am in love with scene. the banter, the flirting, luke giving this girl he literally just met an actual PIECE OF HIS SOUL so she can get music back into her life. not a single time have i watched that scene and not felt my heart literally grow cause of how cute they are. 

-the entire scene when julie is singing wake up. that scene is what made me literally CRAVE watching the other episodes. like of course i was going to watch them cause i wasn’t gonna just stop watching a show after one episode, and yes the show was good already but seeing the lighting and her voice, and just everything about the scene,,,,*chef’s kiss* 

bright

-flynn drinking seven sodas....SEVEN??? i would be throwing up if i drank more than like 2 and she drank seven,,,no ma’am.

- flynn and her trumpet. talented queen

- “ i wouldn’t have given you the song if i didnt think you were gonna rock it.” lmaooo im crying:)

- i start tearing up every time julie goes to play the first notes of bright,,, and then i’m full on bawling when the guys come in and play with her cause...they weren’t playing to be seen they were playing to be there for her and play to comfort her. pls i love them<3

- nick vibing in the front row

- the tech guy deserves so much more praise

flying solo

- reggie’s little butt shake or whatever you wanna call it!!

- julie’s little laugh when she yells at the guys to stop it

- “and we’re on the runway again” GENUINELY one of my favorite lines of the whole show pls i love luke’s humor

-this is the first time i noticed this but reggie’s face after alex says “DONT TELL ME HOW TO GHOST!”

-WILLIE!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU<3333333

-the slow mo helmet take off,,,,me too alex me too

-willie’s little giggles:))))

- “oh-oh!”

- “no clue” alex i love you baby<3

- next season better give us a scene of flynn throwing eggs at someone’s house because i think it’s safe to say we were robbed of that experience. 

- the flying solo performance is just amazing

i got the music

- just the whole opening scene is so cute ....the dancing, singing, happiness RADIATING from julie 

-nick in an all white suit and fedora

-WILLEX MUSEUM DATE YEAH BABYYYYY

- carefree skateboarder bf and anxiety ridden drummer bf

- yelling. in. museums. 

-alex thinking he’s literally dying again because of the salt... zero braincells in this band.

- another scene we were robbed of that i need to see in season 2...reggie singing “home is where my horse is” while alex and julie sit patiently and attentively listen to him but luke looks like he’s about to commit murder

- i get SO MUCH second hand embarrassment for julie when she looks through luke’s songbook and says “ wow luke I didn’t know you were such a romantic” julie baby i love you but...eekkkkk

- “he looks like a substitute teacher”- where did he come up with that like so many other things he could be compared to but a substitute teacher??

- “luke introduced you to rock” heck yeah it did.. literal soulmates

- would like to see a picture of the raccoon in Flynn’s backyard

- wee woo wee woo police sirens://///

- julie’s outfit ughhhh i love it

- the poster that im pretty sure says “sexiest role” behind caleb... why was that necessary 

the other side of hollywood

- THE ENTIRE PERFORMANCE OF THE OTHER SIDE OF HOLLYWOOD 

- i lose my absolute shit over this song omg literal chills

- the cape grab i cannot physically do this rn

- willie being so excited the entire performance and looking over to see alex’s reaction

- reggie being in awe everytime one of the girls performing does something.. me too reggie

-”well i wouldn't really call it mAAgiCcCC bUT”

- nick and his fedora again

- alex has a crush, alex has a crush on.....WILLIE

-the boys eating food for the first time in 25 years is honestly so realistic

-alex shoving a whole slice of pizza in his mouth

- lukes ‘OH MY GODDDDD’

- reggie kissing his meatball sub that looks painfully dry but also delicious 

- the continuation of the other side of hollywood performance and everyone dancing

-reggie imitating caleb’s evil laugh and owen trying so hard not to break

-me getting mad at the boys for not showing up for julie and being sad with her but at the same time i’m obviously not mad at the boys just...disappointed?? idk 

finally free

- how did julie get to the school if she missed the first three classes?? wasn’t she still at flynn’s house from the night before cause she slept over so did she walk to school or was she just sitting in flynn’s house by herself and one of flynn’s parents was like you gonna go to school or???

-dance class with nicky poo<3

-reggie fixing his amp in the rain

-julie’s blue dress outfit in this episode is my ABSOLUTE favorite 

- the birthday candle scene makes me sob like a little baby,,,and rightfully so

- julie smart, smart to be taking calculus as what a sophomore??

- all eyes on me yes queen iconic

- alex dancing is how i dance in my brain whenever the song comes on 

- finally free as a song is NEVER given enough credit and why not?? it’s my favorite song they do as a band AND the madison’s vocals and the echoing part omg i loveeeee

- and the whole performance with luke’s heart eyes. i count this performance as the moment luke like fell in love with julie...like full on just blown away with how much awe and admiration he has for her in that moment and all the time.

 - julie and luke singing “and you’re a part of me” while staring directly into each others soul,,,yeah that’s love kids

edge of great

- carlos being the ghost hunter he is and tía being done with him

- luke’s pouting face 

- reggie and ray making breakfast together is so wholesome. reggie really loves and seeks comfort in ray and i love that

- luke just waiting next to julie’s locker and his little “hey”

- the first time i watch this scene i thought charlie was from new york cause of the way he says “ i can't do this without you” and then i watched the cast interviews and just realized he is somewhat joey tribbiani 

- jealous luke hehehehehhehehe

- “well dont you look shARrP”- yes he does luke thank you very much

- “uh oh i think someone has a crush on julie” yeah you do you little shit,,, now admit it to her

- the proud look on luke’s face when he realizes julie is still paying attention to HIM even though she’s supposed to be having a full on conversation with nick

- the shoulder push ( as someone who has had their own shoulder pushed in the middle of a high school hallway as a weird way of flirting,,,,i can definitely somewhat attest to how luke is feeling in that moment and i too continued to flirt with the person who shoulder shoved me while we were still standing in the hallway)

- the flow from whatever the hell dance nick and julie are doing and the perfect harmony dance is so special to me and i love it

-ADOANCLOBNAOVBCOAB THE HAIR PLSSSSS

- EVERYTIME THE SCENE COMES ON AND I SEE HIM WALKING THROUGH THE MIRROR I HAVE TO PAUSE THE SHOW FOR LIKE 10 MINUTES WHILE I DIE LAUGHING BECAUSE THE HAIR IS SO BAD EVEN THOUGH I SHOULD BE USED TO HOW IT LOOKS AFTER WATCHING THIS SHOW LITERALLY 30 TIMES

- i think people see my username and assume i like his hair in this scene but...ummm fun little fact i do not like it

- the dance is so good though ugh my babies

- the hair

- madison is gorgeous 

- another season 2 scene i need: julie teaching this dance to luke and they perform it in front of alex and reggie so they can see luke roll on the floor like that

-the hair

- the lift i loveeee

- the voices at the end of the song *chef’s kiss*

- the way julie spins out from luke and into nick omg so good

- “thAnKs pArTnER”

- luke denying his feelings for julie,,,babe pls

- the whole edge of great performance is so good and beautiful and the colors are SPECTACULAR 

-julie avoiding luke’s gaze lolz

- can't believe my mans really tried to deny he didn’t have feelings for julie like 5 hours earlier even though he’s getting upset because she hasn’t looked at him in 2 minutes

- THE. GUITAR. RIFF. SOLO.

- when i finally learn how to play the electric guitar well enough to learn the guitar solo... it’s over for everyone

-nick just came to watch the girl he likes perform not watch her flirt with a hologram plssss can we give this man a break next season.

- “we have to say goodbye to julie”- that’s literally more important to luke than not playing music anymore because julie is music to him now

unsaid emily

-already crying and the episode hasn't even started

-willex in the orpheum

- alex literally being OVER reggie

- nope too emotionally unstable to watch this scene right now

- my therapist will be hearing about this tomorrow

- show us the baby picture of luke cowards

- this is such a beautiful song that makes me cry every fucking time gosh damn it

- everytime i watch the flashback scene of luke on his bike i think of “christmas song” by phoebe bridges and i cry even more

- i tried to learn how to play this song on my electric guitar (because i dont have an acoustic guitar) and i ended up crying half way through so i do not think i will be playing it anytime soon:/

- the harmonies *chef’s kiss*

- THE POLICE LIGHTS ....i cry

- FAT tears rolling down my face

- there's literally not a moment i don’t cry during this episode

- interesting little relationship :0

- when i played percussion in 7th grade i used to lay down on the couch in the practice room at school ( which god knows what people did on that couch...ew) and stick my drumsticks up my nose too,,,, just another similarity between alex and i 

stand tall

- willie really drove a bus 200 miles into the desert for his crush

- WILLEX HUG 

- i love willie no last name so much,,,i just wanna hold and protect him

- alex’s ballerina dance

-julie’s overall outfit i love<3

- “im swimming”

- the way carlos hangs up the iPad on tía makes me CRACK UP he’s just lmao bye girl

- another julie outfit i love

- “anything julie. you know that.” AHHHHHAASIDSJFPACISN love bitches

- the suits

- luke’s hair in this episode is so much better than the perfect harmony hair pls

- YOU GOT NOTHING TO LOSE

- the way luke looks so restricted and confined in his suit... but at the same time he looks like a 10 week old puppy

-luke’s AGGRESSIVE but small foot tapping leading up to being on the stage

- the solos:)))))

- crying again over julie’s monologue to her mom

- julie really was brave enough to be ready to perform by herself

-the way Trevor looks at carrie when she says “been here before”

-ALEXXXXXX

-REGGIEEEEE

-luuukkKKKEEEEEEE

- this performance makes me cry

- especially the first time when i saw luke flickering...sobs

- he finally looks free in his suit:))

- alex’s solo is so pretty i love him

- reggie’s solo too 

- nick just straight up vibing the entire performance

- alex and luke holding hands...hehehe cute besties

- “thank you, guys” NO THANK YOU 

- the way julie begs for them to do something about the jolts for HER cause she knows luke would never say no to her

- “no music is worth making, julie, if we’re not making it with you,” I JUST SCREAMED AND IM PRETTY SURE I WOKE UP MY ENTIRE HOUSEHOLD...whoops

- going back to that line i could say so much about it but....for someone who’s life was literally MUSIC for the 17 years he was alive, and after finding out he could play music again even though he was dead and saying it made him feel alive, he would give that up- he would give up playing his guitar, playing in a band with his friends, give up writing and singing music- if he wasn’t doing that with julie. that’s more than saying i love you,,,that’s literally like saying i’d give up my ENTIRE LIFE and what i love to do if i dont get to do it with you

- i just made myself cry with that description...wow

-the hug<3

-also imagine how luke felt in that moment,,, hearing this girl, once again that he would give his life up for, saying in his ear that she loves them. i would motherfucking glow too, luke

- *passionately but gently holds each others faces*

-HANDS OFF MY BABY NICK, CALEB

- caleb’s outfit is....something

- the head turn plssss

this was so long and i am so sorry but if you read this far.....leave some of your own reactions or thoughts:)))

k goodnight im gonna, ugh, finally go study ://

[def-initely-soul]

house rules {2}

pairing: jimin x reader (f.)

genre: fluff; angst; roommates au; kinda new girl au; smut; f2l au

rating: explicit

warnings: sexual content; mention of emotional abuse; mention of manipulative relationship; mention of body issues; explicit smut

words: 19.6k

summary:

↠ {living with two guys has always its pros and cons. Pros being someone will always get you popcorn for your midnight cravings. Cons being you might like one of them…?} ↞

or alternatively, the shenanigans of five friends, where two of them are in a loving relationship, one is Kim Seokjin and the other two don’t know what the fuck they’re doing

.

.

Next morning, on Christmas eve, you try to be as nonchalant as you can. Thankfully your walls are thick enough so no one took notice of your late-night shenanigans and what happened between you before Hoseok’s interruption was barely anything out of the ordinary.

Thankfully you get yourself distracted with the preparations for this evening. Every year the five of you plan a traditional Christmas dinner, idea courtesy of Hoseok’s and Seokjin’s minds, where every single one of you was assigned to different tasks.

Seokjin is in charge of the roasted turkey, as he is every year, Hoseok will cook his famous vanilla-roasted sweet potatoes, Jimin will prepare a cauliflower soup and Ana is always in charge of the desert. This year choosing the recipe of a Buche de Noel.

You’re left with the simple task of making smooth mashed potatoes and bringing the booze.

Even though simpler than what others have to do, it gives you time to be alone and focus on something else other than Jimin. Whether you’re cooking or going to the store to pick up the alcohol, your time is productively filled with anything other than thoughts of him.

You take a nap around midday, leaving the kitchen free for the guys to use. Taking a hold of this opportunity to stay clear of Jimin’s gaze. You make sure your interactions are limited between the lines of what is only necessary, even when the preparations are done and you sit around the table.

Ana and Seokjin arrive together, the turkey the size of a small TV, which Seokjin himself puts on the table. Not letting anyone else help him or carve it, flashbacks of last year when Jimin tried to carve it and nearly dropped it still etched to everyone’s memory.

You help Ana move the desert to the fridge for later, and as all of you take your places at the dinner table, you feel a particular set of eyes on you.

Thankfully you don’t sit next to him so you don’t have any one-on-one conversation like you do with Seokjin sitting to your right. You only talk to him when the conversation involves the whole group and that’s only to not alert anyone that something is off.

Your mind is swarmed with memories of Jimin’s look. With the way he’s looking at you now.

You ignore it in favour of talking to Ana at the end of the table as she rumbles excitedly about the party next week. You immerse yourself in that conversation, going lightly over some details and pouring another glass of wine as Seokjin passionately joins you.

Although, even if you’re engrossed to something else you can’t help but notice one thing. 

He never mentions Dinah.

And that gives you magnificent, dreadful hope.

.

.

It’s New Year's Eve, and you’re in an awfully good mood.

The party is in full bloom, the essence of joy and excitement wafting through the air, people dancing their worries away and laughing under the neon-lights (Ana really went all-in in the decoration department), having fun in what can only be a fitting welcome for a bright New Year.

The mulled wine has gotten slightly into you, landing you in that perfect spot between sober and tipsy, just enough to elevate your already high spirits. Besides you’re also celebrating finally finishing your book. It’s been a bitch of a struggle but finally, you’ve gone and did it. Finally booking an appointment with a publishing company that took an interest in you after reading one of your drafts you’ve previously sent them.

And well. Dinah isn’t here.

“I cannot believe I’m talking to the next Stephen King!” Hoseok yaps excitedly, throwing an arm around your shoulder, voice raised higher than normal due to the several “old-fashioned” he managed to throw back.

You grunt from the sudden weight as he leans a bit too much on your side to stand up. “Okay, step it down a notch, buddy,” you chuckle, patting him on the shoulder.

He thinks it over before-. “Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?”

Your eyes widen, an involuntary laugh escaping you. “I said step it down a notch, not climb the whole mcfreakin ladder?” Hoseok giggles happily, before his eyes rest on the hostess, who’s currently talking to a coworker, gleeful smile in full bloom.

He waves at you to lean closer to him and you oblige. “See that girl over there?” he whispers to you conspiratory, pointing at Ana who seems oblivious to your conversation. You chuckle at his drunk antics but decide to appease him and nod.

A blissful smile takes over his lips. “Imma marry her someday.”

You barely keep your smile at bay. Honestly, Hoseok is whipped for Ana and anyone who doesn’t see that is blind, so it doesn’t sound weird coming from him. You’re willing to bet his wish is gonna come true someday. It’s just a matter of time.

Though you’re happy for your friends, you can’t let this teasing opportunity pass you by.

“Hey, champ, I got some bad news for you…” you press your lips together in mock-sadness and Hoseok’s face falls.

“She has a boyfriend,” you deliver the final blow and his eyes widen. Before he bursts into tears.

At least a couple of people stare at you, as Hoseok bawls his eyes out and you can’t stop cackling. Oh, god, you didn’t know he was this drunk, he was perfectly fine moments ago! Although to be perfectly candid, he has a low alcohol tolerance, so really this one is on you.

Ana shows up after a few seconds, worry etched into her features after seeing her boyfriend cry like a baby. “What happened? Are you okay?” she asks him, obviously more sober than him, but once she sees you laughing, her eyes narrow. “What did you do to him?”

You shrug, your expression being the poster-child for innocence. “Nothing! I just told him you have a boyfriend.”

This sends another wave of tears down Hoseok’s cheeks and Ana laughs incredulously. 

“Is it true? Do you have a boyfriend” Hoseok struggles to ask through his hiccups and Ana can’t repress the lovesick smile on her lips.

“Yes and he’s a giant baby.”

“Does that mean I still have a chance?”

Ana chuckles before pressing a kiss on Hoseok’s pouty lips. “It’s you, you dufus! Now, come on, let’s get you to lay down…”

“Really?” he says with the most childlike smile you’ve ever seen on him. And only seconds later it turns into a smirk. "Oh, I will lay down, I will lay down so hard that you-” he struggles to complete his sentence, “that you’ll want to lay down with me…”

You groan out loud, not ready for the scene to turn into an NSFW one. “Are you horny all the time?” you complain out loud and the couple raises their brows at you.

“...Already know the answer to that one. Thank you very much five years of living together!” you admit regrettably and Ana tsks you.

“Serves you right for having the nerve to terrorize the sun himself!”

“That’s me!” Hoseok points to himself with a proud smile and you press your lips together to stop the giggles from escaping as Ana rolls her eyes fondly at her boyfriend.

“I’ll get him to my room-” Hoseok finger guns her, winks and blows her a kiss, “could you please make him some coffee?” Ana pleads you as she struggles to push a drunk Hoseok down the hall.

“You got it, babe! I’m gonna roast this coffee so bad, it’s gonna go running to its momma!” you announce in the spur of the moment, but Ana just looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“Doesn’t work for me, does it?” Ana just shakes her head and you huff. “I’ll go get the coffee…”

You drive through the crowd, barely avoiding the drinks spilling left and right and finally reach the kitchen. Thankfully there’s only like a couple of people around, so you reach for the french press easily, adding the coffee grounds and warming some water in the microwave.

“Why on earth are you having coffee with so much alcohol around and why does that weirdly make sense for you?” Jimin enters your vision, resting his hip on the counter in a mirror of your stance and you have to take a breath.

His dark blue hair is slicked back, revealing the magnificence of his eyebrows (yeap, that’s another spot of Jimin you’re weak about). He’s dressed in all black; black jeans, black T-shirt with an open neckline, a leather belt hugging closely at his hips, a dangly earring gracing his earlobe and a silver chain resting against his glistening collarbones. He has been dancing and all you wanna do is dive in and bite at the skin of his neck, glinting welcoming under the dimmed lights.

Focus.

“Give me a break, it’s not even for me…” you joke back, just in time to cover up your little zone-out. Jimin stares back confused.

“Who then-?” he makes a sound of realization before he chuckles. “Hoseok,” he responds and you nod, a giggle already on your lips.

After Christmas eve, when you refused to even speak to him, things became less weird. It seems like the two days you spent actively avoiding each other helped in restoring the dynamics back to normality. You’re not even sure who made the first move but after a few days, you were back to normal, as if that thing on the couch never happened.

Maybe it is for the best to pretend it never happened. No feelings are going to get hurt this way.

“Yeap, Ana took him back to her bedroom,” you reply, moving to pour the water into the french press.

Jimin raises an unconvinced eyebrow as he hands you a mug. “And are you sure they’re not gonna fuck back there?”

You take the mug with an appreciative nod. “Honestly, they’re probably fucking right now on their way there. Maybe they are, maybe they’re not. Maybe I’ll be scarred for the rest of my life walking into that and maybe I won’t.”

“And you’ll take those chances?” Jimin chuckles incredulously and you almost swoon at the way his smile lights up the room.

“This coffee won’t deliver itself!” you joke and Jimin’s smile turns bigger.

“Your service is greatly appreciated!” he says with an awful British accent and proceeds to laugh.

“Well, thank you good sir!” you play into it with a curtsy and both of you burst into happy, slightly intoxicated giggles.

Your eyes rest on the french press as the coffee grounds seep into the water and it’s like your lips have a mind of their own when they ask the following question.

“So, alone tonight?” you ask with fake nonchalance and you swear Jimin tenses.

You can’t help yourself. From the moment you realized Dinah was absent you wanted to know why. They’ve been dating for almost a month, so that means they’d still be all over each other, you figured they’d want to spend New Year's together.

So how come Dinah isn’t here?

Jimin nods, eyes absentmindedly following your fingers as they trace the marble counter.

“What happened to Dinah? Didn’t want to spend New Years with our ugly asses?” you joke, hoping to lift the tension off his shoulders and rejoice when Jimin cracks a smile.

“No, no. Actually, her friends are throwing a party too…” he simply says, not giving you another explanation even though something else clearly bothers him. You don’t ask further, figuring he’ll tell you if he wants to, so you move to press the plunger down and pour the brown liquid into the cup Jimin handed you earlier.

“And I actually didn’t …” he hesitates, biting his bottom lip.

God, this is straight-up torture.

“Didn’t…?” you urge him on, sensing his desire to say whatever’s bothering him.

He takes a breath.

“Didn’t have the need to invite her…?” he admits, eyes on the steaming cup of coffee, struggling to put his thoughts into words as you stare at him utterly confused. He didn’t have the need to invite her? Like, he didn’t care if she was here?

No, Y/N, don’t get your hopes up.

Jimin huffs, running a hand through his hair.

“I mean.. I didn’t want to.”

And you find him staring at you again, with those intense, magnetic eyes and your breath is sucked out of your lungs.

He didn’t want to invite her. Why? What does it mean? Why did he do it?

And why is he looking at you like that?

Did he-?

“Surprise!” a familiar female voice echoes through the kitchen as Dinah throws herself literally against Jimin, hugging his waist with an excited smile. No concern in her eyes over your panicked faces.

You don’t know if she heard your conversation but if she did, she doesn’t show it.

Jimin’s wide, panicked eyes travel between you and Dinah. “Dinah, what are you doing here? I thought you were spending New Year’s at Minoh’s?” he turns around to bring her forward and the intimacy hiding in the domestic action drives a knife through your chest.

“That party was boring as hell. And I missed you,” she says with a blinding smile and leans in to press a soft kiss on Jimin’s lips, ripping your heart in two.

You can’t stand this. You can’t stand to watch as she kisses him right in front of you and you feel like an outsider, glimpsing at something you long for but can’t have. Is it always gonna be this hard?

You swallow the lump in your throat, gripping the cup tighter and force a smile on your lips just in time for the couple to miss your crestfallen expression.

It’s time to get out of here.

“That’s great! You’re just in time to spend New Year’s together!” you exclaim with forceful enthusiasm and Dinah nods excitedly as Jimin looks at you with an indecipherable expression. “You’ll have to excuse me, I have to deliver this bad boy!” you smile, pointing at the mug and you start walking away, already waiting for the moment you don’t have to keep that smile on your face any longer.

That seems to wake Jimin up as his eyes widen. “Wait, Y/N, I didn’t-”

“Have fun at the party!” you interrupt him, keeping the smile on for a little longer, before you turn your back at them, smile disappearing, steps fast as you miss Jimin’s face filled with despair.

.

.

Your steps bring you back to the living room, already having delivered the coffee to Ana’s room. Although Jimin’s suspicions were correct and you walked into a scene you’d rather forget, closing your eyes to avoid any more damage on your retina, resulting in you leaving the couple with a half-spilt coffee.

Not that they’ll be needing it now anyway.

Stepping into the main area of the party you can’t help the sour mood that takes over you, watching everyone have a good time. You were also having a good time until Dinah arrived.

Which reminds you. What did Jimin mean back then? Was it just stupid you with your tendency to read way too much into things or did he actually mean what you wanted him to?

And if he did, why is he still dancing with her?

Your eyes are stuck to the couple in question, dancing in the middle of the living room as a mid-tempo dance track plays through the speakers, Dinah’s hands wrapped around Jimin’s waist as he sways her softly to the beat.

The night started out so well. You were having fun, for once all worries put aside as you didn’t have to think about the book or Dinah, or Jimin. You were happy.

But then someone decided to shit all over that happiness and you were back to the beginning. Having your heart broken by your best friend and he doesn’t even know.

You take a breath to calm the erratic beating of your cracking heart when you see a too familiar face emerging from the kitchen.

Oh no, what is Jaehyun doing here?

You move quickly, dreading to talk to him, hoping he won’t see you but, alas, luck was never on your side.

His eyes spot you all the way across the room, with numerous people in between like he has laser vision or something. A smile takes over his lips as he waves at you and begins walking towards you.

God, no. No, you can’t deal with him right now. He’ll probably want another date and you know he deserves to know the truth but you just can’t do it right now.

You’re quick to move to the balcony, trying to lose him through the crown but his voice keeps calling you even outside. You slip through the people and into the living room, stopping to see him briefly lose you as his eyes scan the balcony.

You escape into the kitchen, hoping he won’t look for you here and in your hastiness to hide, you fall face-first into Seokjin’s chest.

“Fuck, sorry, you need to move!” you say urgently, trying to hide behind the massive wall he calls his shoulders.

Seokjin regards you with a suspicious glare. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to hide from Jaehyun!” you bite through gritted teeth as your eyes scan the open area behind you. With relief you realise Jaehyun isn’t anywhere near, just a bunch of other people and Jimin talking with Dinah and Hoseok.

Your heart still clenches uncomfortably when Seokjin interrupts your thoughts.

“Why are you hiding from Jaehyun? Didn’t the date go well?” he asks you purely confused and with guilt, you realize you never told him nor Ana that you bailed.

You bite your lip. “I didn’t go…”

Seokjin’s eyes widen comically. “What?! Why?! I thought you wanted to!”

You groan rubbing your palm on your face. “I just… didn’t feel like it anymore! And now he’s here, looking for me and I don’t know what to do! Who invited him anyway?”

At that Seokjin has the decency to look guilty. “I may have seen him at the coffee shop and invited him… But in my defence I didn’t even know you bailed on him!” he looks at you with a scolding glare and another groan leaves your lips.

“Oh, shit here he comes…” Seokjin looks carefully behind you and you steal a glance to indeed see Jaehyun stepping into the living room and walking straight towards you.

“Okay, fuck, let me think…” you mumble in thought when you see something on the ceiling, hanging just a few centimetres behind Seokjin.

“Got it!” you exclaim, and when Seokjin doesn’t follow, you push him back so both of you stand right beneath the thing hanging from the ceiling and then you point at it, knowing he’ll catch the drift.

Seokjin’s eyes follow your fingers, only to widen in horror when they rest at what you're pointing at.

Mistletoe.

“No! No, no, no, I’m not kissing you so you can get rid of him!” he hisses, eyes swimming in denial and disbelief. But you narrow your eyes at him.

“It’s your fault he’s here! So step the fuck up Kyle!” you hiss back and Seokjin looks less than thrilled.

“Don’t quote vines to me, you heathen, I won’t hesitate bitch!” he responds and you know you’re halfway winning him over.

“I can’t believe you’ve done this…” you reply, mastering the perfect puppy eyes.

The sound of his favourite vine has him yielding in a matter of seconds, choking back a laugh before he rolls his eyes. “Fine. But we gotta hurry up, he’s almost here,” Seokjin relents, eyes falling behind you.

“Buckle up,” is the only thing you say before grasping Seokjin’s panicked face and press your mouths together.

You stay like that for a few seconds, simply pressing your lips together like an awful K-drama kiss though there’s no romantic music playing in the background. The kiss is at its best… underwhelming. That’s what you were lusting after all those years? It certainly doesn’t live up to the expectations.

You lean back, staring at Seokjin who barely manages to conceal his weirded out face. “Is he gone?” you whisper and Seokjin nods in relief.

“Yes, he’s gone…” he mumbles, letting out a breath as you let his face free and take a step back, finally breathing freely.

“Don’t ever do that again!” he exclaims, his words followed by a loud gagging noise.

“Anything for you Beyonce!” you say, sharing the sentiment and you grab a random shot glass on the counter, to wash out the feeling of Seokjin’s clumsy mouth on yours.

“We don’t tell anyone. We take this to the grave and live the rest of our lives feeling slightly awkward with each other. Sounds good?” Seokjin states with wide eyes and you laugh at his seriousness.

“Ay, ay, captain! Now take a shot with me to erase the memory for good!” you say, filling two glasses with tequila and you hand him one.

“To forgetting this ever happened!” he raises his shot and you follow his movements before downing the contents of the glass.

“Amen to that.”

.

.

Half an hour later, its time for the countdown so the New Year can officially begin.

The automatic clock on Ana’s TV screen reads 23:59:03 and you rush to gather your friends together in one place, so the New Year can find all five of you together as it has for the last four years.

The rest of the attendees also gather in groups; friends, couples, coworkers, newly made acquaintances but all shimmering with the vibrating delight to welcome the New Year and the opportunities that are bound to come.

Ana and Hoseok are already counting down the numbers - admittedly a bit too early -, and Seokjin passes you four tequila shots to celebrate once the clock strikes midnight. But then he’s left with an extra one and realization strucks you.

“Hey, where’s Jimin? He’s supposed to be here!” you yell to be heard amidst the loud chattering of the crowd, but your question remains unanswered when Seokjin shrugs his shoulders in loss.

Ana looks around to find said-man but it’s Hoseok that finally puts an end to the mystery. “Uh, actually he went home!”

Your eyebrows furrow, confusion apparent in your eyes. He’s never missed out on this! How could he leave? You always spent New Year’s together, the five of you, it was your unique tradition, one you’ve expected him to keep up with.

Maybe he was feeling a bit under the weather, you try to reason with yourself. Let’s not get mad at him before knowing the whole story.

“Wait, so he left without telling anyone? Is he okay? Did he even tell Dinah he’d leave?” you question back, aware of Ana & Seokjin’s wary gazes but you don’t bother to acknowledge them.

Thankfully, Hoseok still isn’t entirely sober to notice them either and start asking questions.

He just shakes his head at you. “Oh, no, they both left. Oh, the countdown’s started!”

As people begin shouting along with the voice on the TV you can’t help but stare aimlessly into space.

They both left. Jimin ditched you, all four of you to spend New Year’s with Dinah. Alone.

And it hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

It shouldn’t feel as much as a personal attack but it does. He left all four of you but it still feels like he specifically left you behind. As if he doesn’t care anymore. Before all that the chance of the two of you ever happening was abysmal. But it was still there, however small. You were fine with that cause at least you knew he valued you as a friend.

Now, you’re not even sure of that anymore.

You should be fine with him leaving. You’re just his friend.

And yet the heartbreak is overbearing.

Seokjin looks at you carefully as Hoseok keeps counting down to one, entirely unaware of what just happened as Ana counts with him but her eyes are on you.

You give her and Seokjin a weak smile, before averting your eyes quickly to count as well, not bearing to see the looks of pity in their eyes.

You hate this.

The clock strikes midnight.

You’ve never felt more alone.

.

.

The next morning finds you exhausted when you wake up on Seokjin’s couch. You’re not sure you could handle going back to the apartment and having Dinah and Jimin across the hall from you. Hoseok was going to spend the night at Ana’s, meaning firstly he kinda gave Jimin the pass to run wild and secondly you couldn’t crash at Ana’s. Of course, she insisted it was okay but you didn’t want to cockblock her on New Year’s. So Seokjin offered his home as an alternative which you happily accepted.

You’re dreading to go back to your flat, though already knowing it’s an inevitable curse, you leave a note for Seokjin to find when he wakes up and then you leave his apartment.

On the way home, you wonder if you should trek over to the donut shop around the corner for some heavenly delicacies but then you’d have to buy Jimin and Dinah some. And that is simply something you’re not willing to do.

Hopefully, they’ll be both asleep when you arrive, too tired to be up at 10 am on New Year’s, so you’ll get your chance to quietly slip into your room and avoid everyone for the rest of the week.

Maybe even a month until those stupid feelings finally decide to disappear.

You try your best to be as soundless as possible when you unlock the front door. You enter the living room on your tiptoes, closing the door quietly behind you before moving to throw your coat on the hanger.

The moment you think you’re alone passes by quickly when you hear the door of the fridge being shut and immediately turn around to see Jimin staring at you with bleary eyes. His hair is a mess as he’s clad in a white T-shirt and grey sweatpants as his pjs, a cup of what must be steaming coffee on one hand as the other runs through his locks. You find yourself salivating.

“Where did you go this early in the morning?” his gruff voice comes out, purely confused and before you get to correct him, his eyes fall on your figure. And he realizes you’re still dressed the same as last night.

“Did you just get here?” he asks, his voice a tad too sharp and accusing to be considered friendly and your arms wrap around your middle protectively.

“Uh, yeah… I crashed at Seokjin’s… Too tired to come back after helping Ana clean up…” you joke, forcing a laugh to hopefully ease the sudden tension hanging in the air.

Though your airy laugh doesn’t reach Jimin. Instead, his eyes are fixed on the wall to his right, jaw tense in what seems almost as anger before he takes a quick sip of his coffee and slum the cup on the counter.

“Ugh… are you okay-?” your confusion is apparent in your voice as Jimin walks off the kitchen, down the hallway.

“I’m going back to sleep…” he mumbles through clenched teeth before he disappears inside his bedroom and closes the door with a loud bang.

You stare weirdly at his door, bewildered by his entire behaviour but you’re still too sleepy to let it get to you. So instead you opt for crawling over to your room and hide beneath the covers.

.

.

The days after New Year’s turn out weirder and weirder to the point of questioning your mental state.

Seokjin still feels somewhat awkward around you after the kiss but instead of avoiding you, as any normal human being would do, he actively seeks you out, clinging to you and following you around like a shadow, as if the over-exposure will help him get rid of the awkwardness faster.

True to your words, none of you have said anything about it to the others, so you were half waiting for everyone to be immediately weirded out by Seokjin’s sudden display of affection. But apart from Ana that gave you some scarce confused looks, the other two haven’t made a single comment, as if this is a completely normal situation. They barely blink when even yourself gets creeped out from Seokjin’s insistent coddling.

Which brings you to the other weird thing happening in the flat.

Jimin barely talks to you anymore.

You don’t have the slightest idea why. If you said something, or done something that offended him, you’re none the wiser. And how are you supposed to know when he barely greets you in the morning?

Every time you attempt conversation, there’s always something he has to do, which sounds completely ironic, given you were the one that kinda did the same before.

Not to cover your own ass but you did that for the sake of your friendship! If Jimin ever finds out you’re into him, you can’t bear to think the effect this might have on your friendship.

Whereas Jimin might as well be angry over such a small thing as you using his earbuds.

It wouldn’t have bothered you that much if it wasn’t for Dinah.

Well, she barely does anything, it's just that Jimin always goes to her when he has the chance. Nights spent with all five of you together munching on popcorn in front of the TV, turn into awkward gatherings as Ana and Hoseok pair up against you and Seokjin, leaving the two of you cringing whenever the couple does something too coupley.

At New Year’s Eve, he practically admitted he wasn’t that much into her anymore and now he’s always with her. Did he lie back then? And if so why?

Everything is wrong and you don’t know how to fix it.

If only Jimin hadn’t begun dating Dinah, none of this would’ve happened. You wouldn’t have realised you liked him, he wouldn’t have spent so much time with her, he wouldn’t abandon the four of you for her.

Although, a small part of you screams you would’ve realised you liked Jimin either way. It wasn’t about Dinah.

And yet you can’t help the loathing that emerges like bile in your throat when you hear her name.

Or when Jimin, after two weeks of avoiding the rest of you, announces you are to throw a dinner so you can get to know her better.

You feel the headache splitting your skull open.

.

.

It’s nearly impossible to hide your sour mood once Dinah steps into the apartment.

A switch has flipped and where there was a smile from joking around with Ana, now there’s a permanent scowl on your face as you refuse to even acknowledge the newcomer, as she greets the rest of your friends.

Once she says hello to you too, you mumble something that resembles a greeting, not even bothering to look at her direction, as Ana regards you with a warning glare.

Deep down you know most of your attitude comes from Jimin’s behaviour these last couple of days, and Dinah’s direct contribution is only at roughly 10%. But you’re stubborn, immature and putting the blame on her seems like an easy way to cope with the situation and the hurricane of feelings swirling in your mind.

No one said it’s the right one. But for now, it’s what keeps you from hiding in your bedroom and wallowing in self-pity. Not that you won’t do that later.

You result in setting the table with Hoseok in silence, not really in the mood to talk, as everyone else sits in the living room and you catch glimpses of their conversation.

Seokjin and Ana talk about a new addition Seokjin wants to put on the menu of his restaurant, while Jimin and Dinah dally on the other side of the room.

You think you’re gonna barf.

“Ugh… Y/N are you okay?”

You turn around at the voice, surprised to see Hoseok stare at you with confused and worried eyes. Shit, did he sniff out something?

“Ah, yes! Why?” you put forward your most cheery voice in the hopes it will throw him off.

“‘Cause you keep stabbing the meat with the forks…” he comments carefully, leaning a bit backwards as his worry grows, once your confused eyes meet his.

And then you look back to the meat and, surely, all the forks you were supposed to pass around the table are stabbed into the steaks on the centre of the table.

Your eyes widen as you press your lips together in horror. God, why can’t you just behave for once?

You rush to remove all the utensils, dumping them into the sink and you pick out new ones, as Hoseok keeps staring at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m fine!” you respond with a clipped voice and you’re not sure what Hoseok hears in your voice but he drops it, in favour of placing the napkins around the table. Though you can still feel his weirded-out stare from time to time.

Once the table is set, Hoseok calls for everyone to gather around and one by one flock to their seats.

And as you put the finishing touches, you can’t help but hear Jimin’s conversation with Dinah.

“We have ice cream for dessert, you’re gonna love this one, it’s heavenly!” he says with excitement.

“Oh, only if it’s vegan, me and regular milk don’t go along…” she jokes and as Jimin says he’ll have someone check, an idea pops into your head. A petty, childish idea but it gives you some purpose for now.

So, she’s lactose intolerant? It would surely be a shame if she were to eat normal ice cream.

And by “shame” you mean hilarious.

The little voice in the back of your head berates you for acting so immature but at this moment you desperately need this. You can be salty for one evening.

What’s the harm?

.

.

Once everyone’s plates are empty, the lot of you migrate to the living room, as you stay in the kitchen to get the ice cream out of the freezer.

Jimin told Ana to ask you to check for the ice cream some time ago, -can you believe it, he didn’t even ask you! He had to talk to Ana for god’s sake-, and you did. But just as you’d suspected it wasn’t vegan.

So your plan is good to go.

You have Seokjin help you carry the bowls of ice cream to the living room and you pass each one around as they’re expected with excited noises.

Ana almost moans at the delicious flavour and Hoseok chuckles at his girlfriend’s antics as you sit next to Seokjin and dive straight into your own bowl.

During dinner it seemed everyone got along just fine with Dinah, talking and joking together as if she’s been a part of this group for a long time. And it bothers you even more.

You also recognize her attempts to get close to you as well but really you can’t be bothered. It comes to the point where she talked to you and all you did is give her a one-word answer before turning your attention somewhere else.

Though right at this moment your attention is solely on her as she takes a scoop out of her ice cream.

“Mmm, it’s really good!” she says excitedly to a smiling Jimin, as she swoops in for another spoon.

But after a few seconds, her eyebrows scrunch in confusion, as she keeps the ice cream in her mouth, looking as if she’s trying to figure out something. You can barely contain your gloating.

“Uhm, this ice cream is vegan right?” she rushes to say, eyes growing just a bit wider with what seems like panic.

Ana turns to look at you and you answer with the most innocent look you can manage, acting like you just realised you didn’t.

“Oh, oops! I guess I forgot to check, sorry! Why, are you lactose intolerant?” you respond in the first complete sentence you’ve given her tonight, internally gloating at her misfortune.

She swallows, her eyes widen even more, traces of fear growing in them. “Ugh, no-”

What does she mean no?

“I’m allergic.”

At once every conversation ceases, all eyes resting on her, wide in shock.

Fuck.

Jimin is the first to react.

“What?! Shit. Are you okay, should we take you to a hospital?” he asks in panic, placing the ice cream as further away from her as he can while you’re left staring at her in horror.

“Well, since I can feel my tongue thwelling, I thay we thould,” she comments shaking, losing the ability to pronounce the letter “s” as more time passes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you struggle to say, full of remorse, but no one seems to hear you as the situation goes haywire.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, this wasn’t supposed to happen!

Seokjin is immediately on his feet. “I’ll drive you there, you guys clean up here okay?” he commands urgently and as you feel the guilt overwhelming you, you stand up form your spot in an instant.

“I’ll come with!” your voice trembles as you reach for your bag while Jimin and Seokjin help Dinah out of the apartment hurriedly.

But as soon as you speak Jimin’s furious eyes are on you.

“I think you’ve done enough.”

And then he slams the door behind them.

You’re left staring at the piece of wood with trembling eyes, as Ana and Hoseok simply stare at you, Hoseok’s eyes wide in shock as yours while Ana’s are filled with disappointment.

You. Fucking. Idiot.

.

.

It’s almost four hours later when Jimin and Seokjin return, finding only Hoseok in the living room waiting for them as he asks them how it went.

But Jimin doesn’t bother answering him as he instead marches with loud, angry steps towards your room.

On the other side of the door, your nails are nearly non-existent from all the nervous thinking that has plagued your mind for the last few hours. Your texts to both of them asking how Dinah was, were left unanswered and you were left brewing in your own nerves.

Until the door opens and Jimin walks in.

You freeze in your spot once your eyes meet his and see the undecipherable expression on his face.

You only manage to mumble a guilt-ridden “hi” and he closes the door behind him as he closes his eyes and takes a deep, calming breath.

Although it seems to not do much.

“What the fuck, Y/N?!”

Your answer is immediate, full of regret. “I know, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Is she okay?” you ask, out of your wits with panic as you wait for him to answer.

He seems too tired, too exhausted as he responds. “They gave her an antihistamine, she’ll be fine,” he says with a sigh but then his eyes are full of rage as they rest on you again. “But do you realize what might have happened if we were a bit late?! She could have died!” he yells at you, voice full of unbridled outrage as his eyes grow even more with the passing of time and you feel smaller and smaller.

“I’m sorry!-” you repeat again, feeling incredibly awful with what you’ve done, “-I thought she was just lactose intolerant, not allergic!” you say in hopes of redeeming yourself even just a bit but maybe this wasn’t the right thing to say as it seems Jimin’s anger only grows.

“This isn’t the fucking point, Y/N!”, you flinch at the volume of his voice, “The point is you've been trying to sabotage this for weeks! You think I haven't seen the side-glances and the mocking giggles?! I fucking know you don’t like her but couldn’t you just pretend for my sake? Do you have to go to such lengths to let us all know you hate her?!” he spits at you with wild eyes and you fight the urge to wrap your arms around your frame.

“I didn’t poison her on purpose…” you mumble in explanation and your eyes stare at your feet, not daring to look at him, drowning in shame.

“No, but all the other things were!” he refutes with impatience, but then he sighs. His shoulders fall down but his jaw’s still clenched. “Why can’t you just be happy for me? I know what she did better than anyone, believe me, but people are allowed a second chance, and frankly, it’s not your place to decide if she deserves it or not. All I was asking of you was to be decent towards her because I was stupid enough to think you’re my friend above everything and you’d respect my wishes!” he confesses, face crest-fallen and what you once feared, -him looking like this because of you-, has finally come true. You can feel your eyes watering but you can do nothing to stop them.

“I am your friend!” you respond desperately with pleading eyes, trying to stop him from questioning how much he means to you. If only he knew exactly how much.

“Are you really?”, he questions back, “Because the rest of the guys are my friends too and they don’t have a problem with her. It’s just you! And if you can’t accept her and be happy for me then…” he stops, eyes falling on the floor, refusing to meet your gaze and you have an awful feeling blooming in the pit of your stomach.

“...Then we’re better off as just roommates,” he delivers the final blow.

You can’t believe your ears. There’s no way, no way.

You feel your throat closing up. “...You don’t mean that…” you mumble in denial, eyes blurry and voice almost breaking at the possibility of losing your best friend.

Jimin still refuses to look at you, his lips pursed as he shakes his head. “Yeah? And you said you’ll support me no matter what so I guess we both said things we don’t mean.”

“Or I guess that was just you,” he says in a final tone, eyes serious this time on you before he turns towards your door to leave your bedroom. To leave your life.

You can’t breathe.

“Jimin-” you manage to stutter out although you feel like choking. You can’t lose him, you simply can’t.

“No, Y/N, you can’t just-!” he snaps back but stops himself before saying anything else, pressing his lips together.

Then he takes another breath. He collects himself and before you manage to stop him, he closes the door on his way out with a loud bang.

And you can’t move. Your eyes simply stare at the door, refusing to let any tear drop and you purse your lips, feeling a mixture of stubbornness and sorrow.

He left. How could he? How could he push you aside for her?! You’ve been friends for a little more than five years now and he ruins your friendship because of her?! Her?!

You rush to lock the door behind him with blurry eyes, putting the blame on him as for now you need this to stay sane.

Tomorrow you’ll know that everything was your fault.

But for now, you choose to believe otherwise.

You step back from your door, crossing your arms on your chest in defiance.

“If he doesn’t want to be friends then we won’t be!” you exclaim in an attempt to salvage your broken ego but once those words are out of your mouth, once they finally feel real, you can’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks.

You have to cover your mouth to drown the sound of your sobs.

You can’t let him hear.

At that moment there’s a knock on your door, before “Y/N? It’s Seokjin, can I come in?”

His voice is quiet, calm, reminding you that he and Hoseok probably heard everything. You can’t deal with it. You can’t deal with any of it.

“Go away, Seokjin…” you mumble with a low voice in order to hide the fact you’re crying.

You hear him sighing. “Come one, at least talk to me-”

“Go away!” your voice is coarse as you yell back, for a second not realising it was you. You know you're gonna regret yelling at him later, but you just want to be alone.

There’s silence on the other side. Then the echoing steps of someone leaving.

And then you break down in the middle of your room.

Alone.

The only sound coming from your quiet sobs.

.

.

{Jimin’s POV}

Keep it together. Don’t lose focus now just because she looks like she’s about to cry.

It’s easier said than done, but Jimin manages to remain focused on what he came here to do. Even if it’s just barely.

He can’t go on like this. Maybe if you were happy for him and actually supported him, things would be different. But when you act like a spoiled baby that didn’t get her wish with no excuse whatsoever when you were supposed to be okay with Dinah… there’s not much he can do.

Not when your behaviour acts as a false beacon of hope. One he can’t afford to see. Otherwise, he might do something he can’t take back.

He’s got to be firm and decisive.

So he turns around to leave before he takes it all back.

“Jimin-” he hears the breaking in your voice, knowing how much this may weigh you down but all he can feel right now is unfairness. It’s unfair how he wants to move on but with one single word he finds his resolve crumbling.

You shouldn’t affect him this much.

“No, Y/N, you can’t just-!” he begins but stops himself. What was he about to say? Something he shouldn’t, probably.

Still, you stop talking. And you just stare at him, with disbelief written in your eyes. He avoids those in favour of staying true to his words.

There’s no saying what he’ll do if he meets them.

So, he simply leaves your bedroom.

Marching through the small distance between your door and his, he can see Hoseok and Seokjin, from the corner of his eyes, staring.

They probably heard everything.

He steps into his bedroom, closing the door behind him, needing some space. To calm down, to take a breath, to finally think about what he just did.

You looked like you were ready to break down at any moment.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been that harsh with you. Maybe he was a bit too hasty, too vengeful in making that decision.

Someone knocks on his door.

What if it’s you?

His steps can’t take him to his door any faster.

But it’s just Hoseok.

“... what?” he hears himself get defensive once he sees your door still closed shut behind the other man.

Hoseok stares at him with understanding. “It doesn’t have to be like that, Jimin…” he comments with a soft voice, always knowing how to approach Jimin when he’s angry, better than anyone.

Jimin sighs, still feeling stubborn but he knows by the end of what Hoseok has to say, he’ll almost certainly listen.

“... Let’s talk about it okay? I’m sure Y/N wants that too…” at those words Jimin swears he feels a small pinch of pain on his chest. He wishes they’re true.

“Seokjin is also gonna talk to her…”

But those words manage to bring his stubbornness back full force.

There’s a chuckle coming out of Jimin but none of it sounds happy.

“Of course he will…” he snaps at Hoseok, who bites his lip once he realises his mistake. “Yeah, Hoseok, I think I’ll pass,” the bitterness is evident in his words, not bothering to hide it from the one person that knows the cause of it.

Hoseok’s eyes widen once he realises Jimin is about to close the door on him. “Wait, Jimin, don’t-”

“Goodnight,” is what Jimin simply says before closing the door on his best friend.

.

.

He can’t be sure when everything began to change. He can’t place a finger on the exact moment his feelings had changed.

On the exact moment, he fell in love with you.

Was it the moment you walked through the door as a roommate applicant? He can’t be sure. But somewhere along the way, the feelings bloomed, outgrew everything he ever felt for anyone.

He just was a bit late at realizing it.

When he woke up after you slept together and his eyes rested on you as you slept, he felt a pain in the middle of his chest. But it didn’t feel like a regular pain, it felt like his heart was expanding like he was experiencing growing pains. Because while he stared at you, he realised there was nothing else he’d rather do. You looked so serene, so at peace sleeping next to him, he never wanted the moment to end.

And that’s how he realised.

Of course, he had to push his newly-found knowledge aside when he saw you nearly going into panic mode. Just because he felt like this, didn’t mean you did too.

So he hid those feelings, playing it cool for the sake of being your friend.

But this shit was difficult when he was surrounded by you twenty-four-seven.

Right before Seokjin’s birthday he had sworn he’d finally tell you. He thought that maybe, just maybe you’d like him back, or at least he’d get to have a weight lifted off his chest.

But then he saw you hugging Seokjin…

He wasn’t trying to spy on you or anything. He was just trying to reach the bathroom when he saw you wrapping your arms around Seokjin. Around the guy you had a crush on for the past few years. It was like a stab to his stomach, even more so when he knew you weren’t really into hugs and when you did hug someone, it usually meant a lot to you.

Jimin couldn’t believe his eyes. He also couldn’t believe how much it hurt and how much he needed something to distract himself.

Or, rather, someone.

That’s how Dina came along.

He never intended to string her along this far though. At that night she was just a distraction, someone familiar who knew how to take care of him, despite everything that had transpired between them in the past.

But Dinah kept trying, kept fighting vigorously for that second chance and he couldn’t help but acknowledge how much she’d changed over the past year. So he let her back into his life, hoping that at least she’d help him forget about you.

And it worked for some time. Until that night.

Until the night you were supposed to go on a date with Seokjin and cancelled it because of him - he’s sure of it even if you vehemently denied it back then-. The night you were dressed on that tight, little, black dress, the one that reminded him of that night eight months ago and suddenly his mind was going haywire with thoughts, or rather, memories of you.

He swears he saw hunger in your eyes when his palm was on your thigh, scorching both of you at the connected spot and if it wasn’t for Hoseok’s interruption, he was sure he’d’ve lost control.

Jimin hates to admit it but that night he kept thinking of you, of your eyes, of your lips, of the way your thighs had fit around his waist back then, of the sound of his name falling from your lips as he touched himself, trying to drown his moans onto his pillow.

He couldn’t talk to you after that for a couple of days. Too ashamed, too embarrassed, too enamoured with you, he thought you’d be able to see right through him.

But once things got back to normal, they were ruined once more.

Dinah appeared at the worst of times at New Year’s. He was so close to letting you know how he feels, encouraged by your reaction when you ditched your date for him, which was another green light for him at the moment. But Dinah showed up and you were out of there before he even got a chance to explain.

Hoseok had found him then, drinking away his sorrows.

“And the worst of all is, she’s dating Seokjin, which I now realise makes me a big jerk and an awful friend as I keep trying to steal away his girlfriend,” Jimin mumbled before downing the rest of his drink.

Hoseok seemed perplexed but that might have been from the near-alcohol-poisoning he just had before Dr. Ana “nursed” him back to health. “And remind me, how are you sure she’s dating Seokjin? They haven’t told us anything yet…”

Jimin stared into his drink, already sort of tipsy on alcohol and self-pity. “Saw ‘em huggin’...” he mumbled behind the glass. Hoseok had to do a double-take at that.

“What?” Hoseok responded in disbelief. “That’s it? Dude, I do that with Seokjin all the time, that doesn’t mean I’m dating him!”

Jimin sighed in annoyance. “It was more than that okay? There was this feeling to it! I could tell it wasn’t just a simple hug!” Jimin groaned as he rubbed his face with his hand.

Hoseok rolled his eyes at his friend. “Still you can never be sure by just a hug! Have you talked to her?”

“No, I tried to but Dinah came in and she left as soon as she saw her…” Jimin admitted and Hoseok almost laughed out loud at his friend’s idiocy.

“Bro, if that isn’t a sign to talk to her, then I’m not dating the most bomb person in the whole ass world.”

Jimin wasn’t impressed as he cocked an eyebrow at his friend.

Hoseok wasn’t deterred. “I can see you have an objection here and it’s a complete disgrace to Ana’s name, so Imma pound you to logic city later, you limp dick, but right now you need to talk to Y/N!” he concluded as he shoved Jimin out of his stool.

Jimin groaned as he stood up, but as his eyes fell to the bottom of his drink, he realised Hoseok was right. He should’ve talked to you first. Maybe he had misunderstood and there was nothing going on with Seokjin.

And right then as he saw you bumping into Seokjin, he figured it was a great opportunity to find out what was happening between the two of you from both parties involved.

But as his steps got him closer and closer, he saw you kiss him.

He froze. He couldn’t look, couldn’t bear, but still, his eyes stayed glued to the both of you as your arms circled around his neck to press him closer.

Jimin felt like vomiting.

He turned around right then and there and walked away. He needed to get out of there. He gave Dinah a half-assed apology as he also sent her on her merry way and he left for his apartment. He couldn’t even tell Hoseok why he was leaving the party, only announcing his departure and disappearing.

It was the first time in years he spent New Year’s alone.

He hated it.

.

.

{Y/N’s POV}

You’ve done the worst sleep in ages.

You rub your eyes, immediately regretting it when the slightest touch has them stinging from how swollen they are from all the crying.

Right. It wasn’t just a dream.

You drag your feet begrudgingly across the floor to the bathroom to splurge some water on your face, in a futile attempt to calm down your puffy eyes. Before you’re off to the kitchen where Hoseok is currently eating his breakfast cereal.

Once he hears the sound of footsteps, he raises his head, only to see you awkwardly walk in the kitchen, eyes downcast as you go for the fridge.

“Hey,” you hear him say.

With your face facing the inside of the fridge you take a breath, letting the low temperature calm you down.

You knew it was coming. Hoseok definitely listened to everything along with Seokjin. And yet you don’t feel like replying.

Nonetheless, you turn around and acknowledge him with a tilt of your head as you move to have the coffee machine working.

“So… How you feeling?”

The question prompts a humourless chuckle out of you and Hoseok sighs in response.

“I know, that’s a lousy question. I just…” he takes a breath, eyes gentle on you, not at all judgemental as you’d expect them, after what you’ve done yesterday, “I mean I know Jimin’s side of the story, but I never heard yours…” he concludes, letting a soft smile take over his features.

Huh. Your side of the story.

You swallow the lump in your throat, but the words don’t come out. Instead, you resolve to looking down at the floor as your hands grab tightly at your empty cup.

Hoseok, sensing your hesitation, sighs resigned but he doesn’t push you on it.

A moment passes when both of you remain silent until your coffee is ready. You pour the liquid into your cup, almost moaning in relief you don’t have to stay here another second.

But before you get to leave Hoseok speaks up again.

“I know things may look like a mess right now but I’m sure this won’t be the case forever. Jimin… yeah, he’s mad but you're his best friend. He’s gonna change his mind soon…” Hoseok’s gentle words reach you and, oh god, how do you want to believe them.

You turn to look at him and see the hope written in his eyes.

You give him what might have resembled a smile if you weren’t feeling so beat-down.

“You didn’t see the way he looked at me Hobi…” you whisper and Hoseok’s face falls just a bit at how broken you sound.

“Things will change, I’m certain of it,” still he replies, eyes full of determination that make the slightest sliver of hope go through the cracks of your sorrow.

Right then another pair of footsteps echoes as Jimin walks into the kitchen.

His sudden arrival has you both freeze, eyes resting on the newcomer and while Hoseok keeps on looking at Jimin, you’re quick to avert your gaze, the lump in your throat growing.

A second passes where Jimin doesn’t move forward or backwards. Like he isn’t sure if you could be in the same room anymore after yesterday's events. Your heart pangs at the thought.

He coughs awkwardly.

“I didn’t know you were awake, I can come back later-” he begins softly, eyes avoiding yours as well, making the pain grow a little sharper.

“No, it’s okay, I was done anyway…” you interrupt him, hands gripping tightly at your steaming cup as if it is a life board.

And without another word, you’re out of the kitchen.

.

.

{Hoseok’s POV}

A week passes by and it seems there’s no hope for reconciliation on the horizon.

Both of you went the extra miles and rearranged your schedules to avoid each other as much as possible. Jimin spends nearly every night at Dinah’s, barely seeing the others and you spend days locked into your room under the pretence of writing, but really you’re just avoiding everyone.

The rest of the guys don’t know what to do anymore.

It’s a Friday afternoon when Hoseok is over at Ana’s place, the mood in his apartment too heavy to bear and he can’t bear this anymore.

“Babe, I’m back, they didn’t have any vinegar chips so I bought oregano instead. Can you imagine the disgrace?” he shouts as soon as he steps back into the apartment, after a small walk to the seven eleven down the street.

But instead of hearing his girlfriend’s welcoming back, he hears her sigh. Then he sees her walk around the corner from the kitchen with her phone pressed to her ear like she’s in a conference call.

“I still don’t understand why won’t you just tell him!” Ana speaks on the phone, sending a tired wave to her boyfriend who looks at her entirely confused.

Hoseok just takes his shoes off and plops himself on the couch, sensing Ana won’t be done with that phone call anytime soon.

There’s a silence from her side as she listens intently to what the other person is saying. Hoseok decides to open the bag of chips just to keep his hands occupied.

After a while, Ana talks again.

“But what if she doesn’t tell him?” she? First, she mentioned a “him” and now a “she”? Hoseok’s getting more confused by the second.

“And what about Jimin then? Doesn’t he deserve to know the truth?” her voice is stern, like a mother berating her child and a sound of understanding leaves Hoseok’s lips, as he concludes Ana is talking to you.

There’s a small silence from your side, indicating no response to Ana’s question and so she keeps talking.

“And I’m talking about the whole truth Y/N.”

Hoseok’s intrigued. What whole truth?

“I know I was the first person to be against telling him about your feelings but with how poorly you handled the situation, I don’t think you can possibly make anything worse!”

At that, Hoseok’s eyes blow wide open. Feelings?! What feelings?! 

He’s immediately up, approaching Ana with quick steps as she listens to your response. Your voice, even though muffled through the phone, sounds weaker, sadder. Disheartened.

Ana’s words are softer now. “But you’ll never be able to do this. You’ll never be ready but, the truth is, no one ever is. That’s kinda how it goes and that’s okay. But you gotta do it at some point, sooner or later,” she talks to you calmly, Hoseok sensing her sorrow at hearing you like this.

But he can’t shake the feeling that he can somehow help if he finds out what those feelings are.

Ana sighs tiredly as if what she just said didn’t have much of an impact. “Y/N-” but before she gets to respond you hang up.

Ana gasps while staring at her phone. “She just hung up on me, I can’t believe it, how dare?” she says to no one in particular as she rubs her hands on her face tiredly.

“Tough luck?” Hoseok comments wrapping his hands around her waist. Ana welcomes the embrace, her hands winding around his neck as she rests her head on his shoulder.

“She just won’t listen! She’s so infuriatingly stubborn and it’s driving me nuts!” she blows a stray hair out of her face, accidentally tickling Hoseok’s skin in the process and he chuckles.

“Kinda like you then?” he teases as he finally pushes that stray lock behind her ear and she pokes out her tongue at him in retaliation before falling into peaceful tranquillity.

Hoseok hates to disrupt this but he has to ask her what all of those things meant. For the sake of Jimin.

“Hey, babe…” he begins and Ana hums in acknowledgement.

“When you talked about Y/N’s feelings…” he feels her stiffen in his embrace but nonetheless he carries on, “... what did you mean?”

Ana takes a breath. “I guess there’s no point in not telling you now…” she speaks softly before taking another breath, one Hoseok holds until he hears her answer.

“Y/N… she likes Jimin. Well I mean that’s what she says anyway. I think it’s way more than that…” Ana admits sadly but Hoseok’s mind goes into overdrive.

“Are you serious…?” he asks in what can be perceived as a calm demeanour but in reality, his head is about to explode.

Ana chuckles calmly, still in Hoseok’s embrace. “I know right?”

Oh my god, they’re both idiots, he thinks. But he has to do something now.

“Oh god, those giant baboons!” he almost yells, making Ana flinch and take a step back to look at him perplexed.

“Hoseok…?”

He laughs incredulously as he takes a step back, trying to process the situation.

“For how long?” he asks and Ana looks more weirded out by the second.

“Two months, give or take?” Ana responds with narrowed eyes.

Hoseok chuckles. “That’s…” when Jimin started going out with Dinah, of course, it all makes sense!

“Seriously our friends are the worst idiots ever!” he complains once more.

“Okay, now do you mind telling me what’s going on?” she retaliates, getting irritated with her boyfriend and his tendency of not explaining anything for the dramatics.

“Jimin likes her back!” he shouts out loud, the magnificence of what he found out too overwhelming to bear.

Ana’s eyes widen. “What? How can that be? What about Dinah?”

Hoseok narrows his eyes at her. “He began dating her again after that one night stand that only happened because he saw Y/N hugging Seokj- Wait! What about Seokjin?”

Ana seems confused. “What about Seokjin?”

“Isn’t Y/N dating him?”

Ana almost bursts out in giggles. “What? No! Of course not! Why would you think that?”

“Cause of the hug!”

“So what, a simple hug means automatically they’re dating each other?”

“Well, we all know Y/N hates hugs, plus she had a crush on him so it would be believable- Wait, that’s not the point. So Y/N isn’t dating Seokjin?”

“Nope. Never did,” Ana concludes as both of them fall into the same realization.

“So Jimin did all that stuff…” Ana begins, not quite believing the absurdity of the situation.

“...Because he thought Seokjin was dating Y/N,” Hoseok admits tiredly.

“We gotta tell Jimin,” Ana grabs her phone to punch in his number before Hoseok stops her.

“Wait…” he stares at the phone, the cogs in his mind whirling before his eyes light up.

“I got a better idea.”

.

.

{Jimin’s POV}

Sweat still drips down his forehead as Jimin bids goodbye to his students, after the end of his contemporary class. He reaches for his water bottle and heads for the teachers’ lounge where his stuff is before he gets to his last class.

He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand before pressing the now lukewarm bottle on the nape of his neck, to get some sort of relief.

Once again, his focus wasn’t entirely on the class. It has been like that ever since your fight, but at least it started getting better as time passed. Still not at its best though.

He finds himself feeling guilty more than he thought he would. Guilty towards you, towards Dinah. It’s a mess.

Admittedly, he was really mad at you but as he got to think it over, he realised he acted too rashly in cutting you off. And he misses you already.

But the thing is… you haven't made a move to reconcile either. That could be because you’re afraid of him pushing you away again. But shouldn't you make the first step? If you did, Jimin is sure he would forgive you on the spot.

He shakes his head tiredly as he enters the teachers’ lounge and reaches for his backpack. Everything’s a mess.

And then there’s Dinah. Dinah who’s changed, who’s kind and understanding. Dinah who he strings along and who’s possibly already aware of Jimin’s use of her as a distraction. They both know that, even though Dinah’s changed and everything’s seemingly fine, the relationship is doomed this time around as well.

Although this time it’s Jimin’s fault.

He needs to come clean to her. He has to end this.

Right then his phone begins ringing.

Once he sees the contact name, he’s a little less willing to answer it.

“What do you want?” is his response once he picks up and there’s an awkward chuckle at the other end before the caller finally replies.

“Whoa, okay, forward, can’t you buy me a drink first, champ?” Seokjin tries to make the tension disappear unsuccessfully, resulting in Jimin not even answering that particular quip.

He hears Seokjin sigh on the other side, before “Anyway, can’t I just call my friend to see how he’s doing? It’s been a while since the last time we talked…” the other man admits cautiously and Jimin’s defensiveness slowly ebbs away to give place to additional guilt. He’s the one blowing off all his friends because he wants space. Or more precisely, he thinks, because he’s a coward, too afraid to really deal with the situation, so instead picking the easy way out, at the expense of his friends.

He rubs his face with his hands, before letting out a breath. “Yeah, I know, things have been kind of…” Jimin trails off but Seokjin hums, as if he understands what Jimin means without him having to say it out loud.

“Yeah…” Seokjin agrees quietly and Jimin feels more horrible as time goes by. When did he begin to feel such animosity towards his friend? They used to be really close ever since they worked together at the same shift, and now Jimin can barely be in the same room as him. It’s not Seokjin’s fault in any way and the truth is Jimin’s animosity arises not towards Seokjin but more towards himself.

He has stuff he needs to work on.

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about…” comes Seokjin’s response that has Jimin sitting up straight in his seat, terrified of what his friend wants to talk to him about.

And it seems his fears were not unjustified.

“How long have you liked Y/N?”

There it is.

Jimin takes a breath, panic trying to take over him but he wills it to go away and answer his friend. Even if he’s terrified to do so.

“I…” he begins, audible shakiness colouring his voice, “... how do you know?”

Seokjin doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Hoseok told me…”

Jimin takes another breath, one full of guilt.

“Look, I… I’m sorry, I didn't mean for it to happen, it just did! And I know it’s awful of me to have done this but, yeah, for some time I had thought of acting on it. But now that I know for certain you’re together, I wouldn’t even dream of-”

“First of all, Y/N and I are not together.” Seokjin interrupts the babbling idiot and Jimin stops mid-sentence.

He blinks, uncertain. “I… what?”

Seokjin sighs with a chuckle. “Y/N and I aren’t dating,” he repeats.

Jimin opens his mouth like a fish, in complete and utter shock. “But… but I saw you…” he states full of doubt, almost like a question.

He can almost hear Seokjin raising his eyebrow. “You saw us doing what?”

The lump in his throat doesn’t make this any easier. “I saw you kissing a-a-aand-and hugging!” he retaliates, trying to support his reasoning.

Seokjin sighs once more, the gesture coming off him naturally by now. “Okay, she kissed me because she wanted to avoid a dude she ghosted, I had little to no say in this!” Seokjin responds in a typical Seokjin fashion.

But Jimin has more questions. “A dude she ghosted?”

“Yeah, she was supposed to go on a date with this guy in my restaurant but blew him off for some reason…”

Wait.

“When was this?” Jimin asks, eager but nervous to find out the answer.

“A couple of days before Christmas.”

So that wasn’t a date with Seokjin but just a rando?

God, Jimin has fucked up big time.

“And what about the hug?” he asks for the last time, to make sure he resolves any misunderstanding.

“What hug? Oh, you mean on my birthday? Dude, that was just her coming clean about her past crush on me and us moving past this like a couple of adults.”

Jimin’s throat constricts uncomfortably but in unbelievable hope. “Past crush?”

Seokjin’s smile is nearly audible. “Yeah, “past”. Know why? Because she has feelings for someone else.”

And just as easily as Seokjin has given him hope, he just as easily rips it away.

“Oh…?” Jimin barely manages to utter, voice almost breaking alongside his heart. “Who?”

Seokjin groans on the other side, taking Jimin wholly by surprise by the irritated tone in the older man’s voice. “Oh my god, you really are both idiots,” he says almost to himself, “You, you soggy tit! Do you really think she did all that to Dinah simply because she didn’t like her? No, she was fucking jealous!” Seokjin concludes, voice rushed and angry to berate his friend and finally put an end to this huge mess.

But Jimin hears only one word.

You.

She has feelings for you.

The girl he’s been in love with for nearly a year now, if not more, has feelings for him. Reciprocated feelings.

Is this real? Is this a fucking dream from which he’ll wake up in the morning, feeling shittier than ever?

But Seokjin said she was jealous. Jealous.

“She- She was? Seokjin, just…” he stops himself to take a calming breath, refusing to believe this just yet, “Please, don’t joke about this, I’m not gonna laugh,” he warns his friend. He can’t bear to have his heart messed with any more than it already has been.

“Does it sound like I’m joking? Believe me, I wouldn’t, we’re all too invested in your shit, it’s not healthy.”

Jimin can’t believe this. He wants to, desperately, but what if it’s not real? What then?

“I…” he swallows his nerves, “She really has feelings for me?” he asks, not unlike a hopeful child. God, his heart is about to burst.

“Yeah, buddy, I know it’s hard to believe when I exist!” Seokjin tries to lighten up the mood with a joke.

Jimin doesn’t laugh.

“...Too soon? Sorry, anyway, I thought you should also know Y/N really feels awful for everything and if there’s one thing that can confirm that, is the fact she apologized to Dinah,” Seokjin concludes carefully.

Jimin doesn’t know how to respond.

“But if you don’t believe me… Ask Y/N herself.”

But he knows what to do.

.

.

{Y/N’s POV}

You’re washing the dishes, alone at home for another hour at the very least as Jimin’s classes end in one hour.

Should you go to Ana’s? Ugh, but Hoseok is there.

Maybe you should just hole yourself up in your room for the scarce time Jimin will be here before he’s off to Dinah’s.

Which reminds you of earlier today.

In Dinah’s defence, she handled your apology quite gracefully, in contrast with you. You were a babbling mess, trying to put your thoughts into place and at first, she was suspicious of you, but once your visit made sense, she seemed to understand. Something even you couldn’t at times.

She accepted your apology with a calm smile, confusing you even more as she said she appreciated your effort to put all of this behind you.

You were glad she seemed to not hold it against you although, honestly… you don’t think you deserve it.

You have no idea if she’s planning on telling Jimin or not and quite frankly you’re terrified of what he’ll say if he finds out.

Once you’re done with the dishes and close the tap, you hear the front door open and close, assuming it’s Hoseok back from Ana’s.

“Hobi, is that you?” you ask before turning around, only to almost choke on your own breath when you see Jimin instead.

He’s standing just in front of the door, not going forwards or backwards, as his eyes stare at you. Serious, careful but calm. No anger residing in them. Just awkwardness as he seems to not know what to do with himself, as he simply rests in place and somehow a tiny drop of hope begins to bloom.

“I… Don’t you have classes?” is the first thing you manage to get out of your mouth and he takes a breath.

“I had to get out early…” he responds and you can’t help but focus on the “had to”. Did Dinah talk to him after all?

“...Why?” is your careful question, when in reality your mind is in a state of disarray. Is this a good sign? A bad one? Is he here to restore your friendship to what it used to be or finally cut ties with you and move out?

Your mind is gonna short-circuit.

“I…” he begins, eyes falling to the floor. Then he takes another breath. “I had to talk to you,” he says.

Oh god. This is it. You’re done.

Your throat closes up as you blink quickly trying to stop your eyes from welling up. Damnit, you already cried so much about this, you shouldn’t have any more tears left!

He takes a tentative step forward, eyes finding yours once again. But they look… soft, tender. Apologetic.

“I… I’m sorry. For the way I acted,” he breathes out and your eyes widen, having to do a double-take to make sure you heard right. “I was too harsh on you, basically taking out my nerves on you and even though what you did was awful, I shouldn’t have taken such drastic measures. I took it too far by saying we shouldn’t be friends and I’d like to take it back if you want to…” he concludes, observing you cautiously.

You’re left staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. Is he serious? Did he just apologize to you like he was the one at fault?

“Jimin, oh my god, you shouldn’t have to apologize, I should!” you rush to say, instinctively grabbing his hands to soothe him, completely missing the taken aback turned loving look in his eyes.

“I acted way out of line and truth be told I think I needed that as a wake-up call. You were right, what kind of friend am I if I don’t try to get along with the girl you’re dating?” you continue, too self-conscious to be able to look Jimin in the eye, instead staring at your joined hands with a new kind joy.

You got your best friend back. And if keeping him means you have to bury your feelings for him, then you’ll do it. For real this time. Whatever it takes to not lose him again.

Jimin chuckles in response. “Used to date,” he corrects you.

This time though you can’t help it when your eyes snap back at him. “What? What do you mean?”

Where you expected to be a sorrowful expression, there is none. Instead, Jimin is looking at you with a soft smile, a serene one, one that matches the peace in his eyes. “We broke up,” he says and you can’t find the proper words to react to this.

“Oh… H-how so?” you say instead, unwillingly holding your breath.

Jimin’s eyes rest on your face for a moment, that damned smile still gracing his lips, before his eyes fall to your hands. “I guess you helped me realise some things with what you did,” is his cryptic response.

But before you get to question his answer his eyes turn stern, with a note of mischief hiding in their corners. “That does not mean what you did was okay, though,” he says, pointing his finger at you like a teacher disciplining a child and you chuckle at his attempt of lightening up the mood.

“Believe me, I know. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself…” you respond, rubbing a hand awkwardly at the base of your neck, still awfully aware of your other hand still connected to Jimin’s.

“Well…” he says quietly, his eyes on your joined hands, “Good thing I did then…” he mutters, his thumb running over the back of your palm soothingly and once your eyes meet his, you know you’ll be okay.

.

.

After that talk with Jimin, -that ended with the both of you watching Space Jam and cuddling to sleep-, everything is once again back to normal. The past week has been amazing compared to the one before it. You find yourself smiling all the time as your friendship with Jimin is back to its prime, laughter and joy returning to your shared apartment.

Your group returns back to its routine, hanging out together in front of the TV, roasting Hoseok for his abundant sexual energy, you know, the usual.

And yet you feel like something’s changed. More particularly, with Jimin.

You catch his eyes on you more than once, more than what could be considered normal but ever since you made up the two of you haven’t been left alone once. The guys are always around and, really, it’s not like you don’t want them to be but there’s always something hanging from Jimin’s mouth, something he wants to say but never does due to their presence. It’s slightly unnerving, reminding you of that night outside your bedrooms when he wanted to say something but didn't.

You can’t tell if it’s good or bad. All you know is suddenly your knees shake when he looks at you for too long and you have goosebumps whenever his skin touches yours.

So that’s why tonight you chose to sit on the lone armchair as he sits next to Hoseok on the big couch and Ana is placed next to Seokjin on the small one.

Somehow the conversation managed to go on that New Year’s party and Seokjin ended up spilling about your kiss.

“You said “we take this to the grave”!” you respond with a low voice, trying to mimic him unsuccessfully as Ana and Hoseok stare at you with eyes wide as saucers. Jimin, for some reason, looks unresponsive to the news yet he laughs at your bad impression of Seokjin.

Seokjin at least has the decency to look guilty as Ana’s scandalized eyes turn to you. “You kissed?!”

You raise your hands in defence, for some reason avoiding to look over at Jimin. “I didn’t do it on purpose! Well… I kinda did but not with the motive you’d assume,” you rush to explain, though Ana is less than satisfied.

“Oh then with what motive? Please amuse me, hoe,” she responds, crossing her hands on her chest and you huff out in annoyance.

Seokjin answers her. “Well, obviously, she wanted a piece of all that. I’m pretty irresistible to all humankind,” he jokes lightly and you suppress a snort.

“Yeah, no, this ain’t it, chief,” you rush to say, suddenly nervous, not wanting anyone to think you’re still into Seokjin.

Actually, replace “anyone” with just “Jimin”.

Seokjin gasps in offence. “What in the world do you even mean?! You’re lucky I kissed you and not just because you got rid of that dude! I’m a pretty good kisser, no scratch that, I’m an excellent kisser, a connoisseur of kissing if you will!”

“I think I won’t be able to kiss anyone after that…” Hoseok responds which makes Seokjin gasp once more before he looks over at you.

“Y/N, tell them the truth. How my kissing is so utterly magnificent, it could end world hunger!” he says before actually hearing what he just said then deciding against it, “Nope, can’t do that, sorry, that’s on me.”

You chuckle at his antics, although a bit reluctant to actually reveal the truth.

“Actually…” you start.

Another gasp resonates. “Don’t “actually” me! Just tell them!”

You turn to the other guys with a roll of your eyes.

“Look, it’s not like you were a bad kisser per se. It’s just that it was a bit… lackluster?” you finish, almost afraid to see Seokjin’s reaction to the reveal.

Jimin suppresses a chuckle, Hoseok oohs from the side and Ana’s eyes widen in surprise.

Seokjin looks at you with disbelief.

“Lackluster?”

You rush to make amends. “I mean it’s okay given I took you by surprise, but due to that crush I used to have on you, I had this notion of a kiss full of passion. And that one just… didn’t have it.” 

Seokjin pouts angrily at you before crossing his arms on his chest as Ana pats his shoulder soothingly. “I can’t believe you just said my kiss didn’t have any passion.”

You shrug. “Well, it didn’t,” you say as a matter of a fact before Ana jumps into the conversation.

“It’s probably a good thing your kiss didn’t have any passion, it just means your friends. No chemistry there so don’t beat yourself up too much, champ,” she says with an affectionate pinch on Seokjin’s cheek, who ponders on her input.

“Yeah, Ana is right!” you rush to agree. “It’s because we’re just friends! When you find someone you really like, believe me, it’ll be nothing like that,” you go off track a bit as certain memories reappear. “It’ll be full of passion and yearning and not getting enough of each other, you’re not sure if you can go on without kissing them!”

And somehow by the end of that, your eyes fall on Jimin’s and stay there.

Because he stares back.

“Okay, I think we heard enough about Seokjin’s kissing techniques,” Ana comments, breaking the spell and your eyes fall to your lap, fire residing in your cheeks.

“I just have one last comment on what I think Seokjin could’ve used but didn’t cause he’s a wuss,” Hoseok jumps in.

“Tongue.”

A round of gagging noises is heard around the apartment.

.

.

The hours pass by smoothly and soon everyone’s getting sleepy. Seokjin leaves early, having to go to the restaurant first thing in the morning, leaving the rest of you to clean up.

Once again Jimin picks up the trash with Ana as Hoseok helps you do the dishes. The apartment falls into a comfortable silence with the occasional chatter between the four of you while you clean up. Hoseok is to sleepover at Ana’s so when you’re all done the couple bids you goodbye, heading to Ana’s apartment.

Leaving you and Jimin totally alone.

Which is something that shouldn’t scare you but for some reason your nerves are going through the roof.

“Are you done with the kitchen?” Jimin asks from the living room, where he’s rearranging the pillows on the couch.

“Yeap! Just finished!” you call back, your voice a bit higher than usual and you cringe internally before clearing your throat.

“Good, I’m going to bed then,” he responds as you walk out of the kitchen.

“I’ll walk with you,” you respond with a smile, following him into the corridor.

You walk in comfortable silence, but still, you find yourself getting nervous as you walk side by side. It doesn’t make any sense.

Once you reach your bedrooms, both of you turn around to face each other, seemingly unwilling to depart just yet. Jimin looks at you with a soft smile as you grab at the opportunity to talk to him.

“Jimin, I just… I’m really happy we got past that and again I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused,” you say in what seems like the hundredth apology this week.

Jimin’s smile grows fonder as he shakes his head gently. “I told you, you should stop apologizing, I’m no longer mad at you,” is his quiet reply as he tilts his head, his eyes staring at you in a way it makes your heart race.

“I know I just… That week we spent not talking to each other was the worst week of my life and I…” you pause searching for the right words, but no words could ever describe the magnificence of what you’re feeling right now, the desperation of wanting to have him in your life. So you simply stare at him, out of breath, hoping he gets it.

His smile is one of the best things you’ve ever seen and you know he does.

You smile back. “Anyway, I’ve gotten too sentimental…” you chuckle, clearing your voice to sound more collected.

Jimin giggles softly. “Happens to the best of us…” he responds gently and you have to remind yourself to not stare. Even if he does and it makes you feel out of breath.

You nod with a smile. “Well…” you respond nervously, yearning for the moment you’re alone in your room, free of all this tension. “Goodnight,” you say simply, turning around to get to your door.

But a hand wraps itself around your wrist, turning you around suddenly. Your hands naturally fall to Jimin’s chest as his palms wrap around your waist and hair as his lips fall fervently on yours.

Your mind goes into overdrive and you can only kiss him back.

His plump lips wrap around your own softly but with an intense sense of urgency, a soft gasp falling from your lips as your hands are quick into grabbing his shirt to pull him unbelievably closer. You respond with just as much hunger, letting your mouth move fervently against his own, pushing more and more against him, aiding his hand that’s tangled in your hair, gripping the locks as if he can’t get enough. Then both of his palms are on the small of your back, holding you close as if fearing you’ll leave. But you never do and that makes him press more against you until your back hits the wall next to your door.

The impact makes Jimin lean back just enough to stop the kiss, but his eyes still remain glued to the image of your swollen lips, as you almost lean after his own.

Your heavy breaths mingle in the otherwise quiet corridor, his hands still on your waist, yours still on his open shirt as you try to wrap your mind around what just happened.

“Did you mean something like that?” comes out his gruff, deep voice that sends a shiver down your spine.

His question brings you back to the earlier conversation about a perfect kiss and you can’t control your breathing any more than your beating heart.

You nod quickly, eyes still on his lips. “Yes,” is your breathless answer.

Jimin’s still breathing heavily as his eyes land once again on your lips.

“Good.”

And then he’s kissing you again.

And, fuck, you can’t get enough.

Your palms land on his neck as you stand on your toes to reach him better and his hands wrap around your waist to keep you in place.

Fuck, you’re kissing him. You’re kissing him and he’s kissing you back. As if he’s a man starved of your kiss and he needs anything you can give him.

But then he stops again and you almost groan out loud.

“You need to stop doing that…” you exhale with an affected chuckle and he chuckles as well.

“I just… I need to talk to you before anything else happens….” he whispers and even though you know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, you can’t help but feel a pang of fear in your chest.

“I…” he says, eyes dazedly looking at your face before he takes an encouraging breath.

“I want you to know that this isn’t like last time. It’s more, it means more, I-” he stops once more, voice trembling as he refuses to look anywhere else but you.

His words give you hope but for the first time in weeks, you welcome that hope. You welcome that glorious feeling to settle deep in your chest because you recognize that warm glint deep in his eyes.

“I’m in love with you,” he reveals and you swear your heart will burst. There’s moisture in your eyes but you will it to go away.

“You are…?” you ask with a small voice and Jimin smiles at you, all happiness and comfort. There’s a fuzzy feeling in the middle of your chest and at this moment nothing makes any more sense than you two.

“Yes. And I spent the past year trying to run from it…” he admits carefully as he slightly crouches down to meet your eyes.

“I’m not running anymore…” he concludes, a spark in his eyes and you’ve never seen him more sure for anything in his life.

There’s a whirlwind of emotions in you. Relief, hope, undeniable joy. It makes your throat close and for a few seconds, you can’t answer him. You only stare back and hope he understands like so many times before.

“I-” you manage to choke out with a weak voice but he’s quick to shush you, before kissing the inside of your palm.

“I know…” he responds softly, still holding onto your palm as his eyes find yours. You can’t look away, couldn’t if you wanted to.

And then you can’t stop smiling, and he’s smiling back and before you know it you’re kissing again.

Happiness rolls like a current between, from all the places your bodies touch, you can’t contain it so you keep on kissing fervidly, hands touching whenever they can, mouths moving in tandem like it’s natural. Like it’s the way it’s supposed to be.

“God, I have so much I want to tell you…” he whispers against your lips before he’s diving back in, tongue reaching out to meet yours.

“Me too…” you reply after a few seconds, pushing him closer as your fingers tangle in his hair. “But not now…” you whisper sternly, pushing your chest against him, needing to feel more of him.

He curses under his breath, the sound sinful, licking his lips before he’s kissing you again and his hands fall lower down your back to rest over the swell of your ass.

You moan in appreciation when his hands grab at the tender flesh, making you arch out so he has better leverage. There’s a throbbing between your legs and you resist grinding on him just yet, to drag it out as long as you can.

Jimin’s lips move down the column of your throat as his body cages you against the wall, hands keeping your hips still as he wedges one leg between yours, so his thigh can press upright against your mound.

You moan again when he leaves a particularly deep hickey on your skin and your hips instinctively roll against his thigh, your hands holding on to his back afraid you might fall.

He chuckles darkly against your skin. “Still into thighs I see…” he mumbles before biting softly at your earlobe, a shiver running down your spine.

You bite your lip before, “Correction, still into your thighs…” you admit as you roll your hips slowly on top of his thigh, starting to feel that delicious warmth building up in your stomach, making you feel dizzy.

Jimin almost bucks into you with a low moan, as his hands are certain to leave marks on your hips as he struggles to remain sane.

“Fuck… Although I’m really tempted to just fuck you here, we should probably move…” he murmurs between kisses to your collarbone and you have half a sane mind to agree. The other half is already picturing him doing it either way.

But before you get to move, his arms are quicker, lunging under your thighs and you instinctively wrap them around his waist with a surprised yelp. His palms are resting right on top of your ass, subconsciously pushing you closer, making your insides burn in anticipation.

There’s a smirk on his lips as he licks them, eyes roaming your face to make sure you don’t have second doubts. Although your eyes are glued to the movement of his wet tongue.

When he realises this, he’s quick to move towards his room as you choose now as the perfect moment to lick and suck bruises on his neck, not able to deny yourself any longer.

“Shit… Y/N, if you keep this up I’m gonna drop you…” he mumbles with a stern but clearly-affected voice and you smile in victory before softly biting at his skin, savouring his taste on your tongue.

He kicks his door open before he carefully lays you on his bed, lips immediately after your own as you reach for his neck to desperately press more of him against you.

Your palms move down his chest, grabbing the edges of his flannel to push it off his shoulders, leaving him in his T-shirt and jeans.

“Why are you wearing so many clothes…?” you ask breathlessly, immediately reconnecting your lips like a woman starved and Jimin chuckles, grabbing the hem of your T-shirt instead and pushing it upwards. You sigh in relief as soon as your heated skin is free, yearning to feel more of his skin against yours.

“Just trying to keep myself warm,” he comments rushedly as he discards the piece of clothing somewhere behind him and his eyes fall to your covered breasts. He curses, lowering his face to kiss down your collarbones until his lips reach the bare top of your tits. His mouth leaves a wet trail behind that’s making you gasp as your thighs rub together to gain some relief.

Jimin notices and chuckles darkly before biting your bottom lip. “You want any help there?” he teases and you groan out loud with a pout.

“Yes, but please take your clothes off a little bit faster. It’s making my dick soft,” you whine, bucking your hips towards him.

He pins them down between his own legs, forcing them to stay still. His fingers toy with the waistband of your leggings as your breaths turn heavier while only looking at his eyes.

“Aw, so I won’t have my ass rawed by your dick? Such a shame baby…” he teases once more with a sinful smirk and the last word has your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Fuck, say that again…” you murmur, arching your chest upwards as you feel moisture gather between your legs, just by the single mention of a nickname.

Jimin laughs out loud as he moves to get your leggings off and you’re quick to aid him. “Is this really what turns you on?” he comments playfully as he leans in, lips kissing the underside of your jaw.

“No, I meant…” you stop, suddenly self-conscious, “... the other part…” you mumble quietly, turning your face to the side, knowing a deep red has taken over your cheeks. It’s not simply about the nickname or the tenderness in his voice as he said it. It’s about what it represents, what you already heard from his lips but you simply can’t have enough of. It makes everything real.

Jimin regards you for a second before, “What? Baby?” he asks, rather innocently and yet you still can’t look at him, too embarrassed as you nod.

Jimin’s eyes turn softer as he bites his lip to contain his smile. Fuck, he’s so in love.

He moves to press a tender kiss to your jaw. “Baby,” he repeats slowly, before resting his lips on your collarbones and you sigh in content. “Baby…” he says again, leaving a kiss in the valley between your breasts, making your breath hitch. “Baby…” he moves lower, dragging his plump lips down your torso as your breaths quicken, the sound of the nickname having your heart making somersaults.

“Baby…” he whispers lowly one last time, the tone completely different, darker, more promising. His eyes rest on you as his face now lays above your panties. Then his hands are hooking behind the waistband, dragging the material down your legs and he bites his lips at the sight of your glistening folds.

“God, I wanna taste you so bad…” he says almost to himself and before you get to react, he hooks your legs on top of his shoulders and his tongue lands with kittenish licks on your clit.

An involuntary groan escapes you, bucking your hips into his mouth for more. And yet he maintains his pace, sending waves of pleasure up your body but never enough to get you where you want to. You can’t help the movement of your hips as you crave for more friction, his movements delicious but never enough. Jimin pins your hips down, tsking you before he presses a kiss at the junction between your thigh and cunt.

“You’ll get what you want, baby, all in due time…” he says sternly, his voice low, sending shivers down your spine as his mouth returns to your clit, and you bite your lip to drown your moan.

Though now, he leaves aside the kittenish lick to wrap his mouth around the swollen nub and suck it between his lips.

A loud moan breaks free from your lips, heavy pants resonating as his plush lips envelop your clit, finally giving you more, moving expertly against your folds and your hands find purchase on Jimin’s locks to press him more against you.

He lets you do as you please while one of his hands travels up your torso, pushing your bra’s cups down to toy with one of your nipples.

The added pleasure has you cry his name in ecstasy, losing all control of your hips as they move against Jimin’s face, as if they have a mind of their own, chasing after your high like a madwoman.

And as one hand tugs at your erect nipples, the other finds this chance to move down your body and trace around your entrance, making your pussy clench in anticipation. Before finally pushing two digits inside your velvety walls.

“Jimin!” you almost sob, your hips furiously chasing after your high as you feel the warmth building up more and more inside your stomach. 

His fingers keep thrusting inside you, slowly at first to let you get used to the intrusion, before he picks up the pace, moving them quickly, roughly inside you. Knuckles deep as his fingertips find that little soft spot inside your walls that has your eyes roll to the back of your head.

And when you open your eyes and see Jimin staring you back with darkness and lust in his own from between your legs, the band snaps.

You come with a loud moan, riding your orgasm against Jimin’s tongue, as the pleasure seems too much, too intense. But then the feeling starts to fade away and Jimin lets you relax as he leaves butterfly kisses against your thighs.

You try to catch your breath as Jimin’s kisses move upwards, up your stomach, to your breasts until he’s kissing you again. Your hands move to wrap around his neck, never having quite enough of him.

“This is not fair, you know…” you chastise him playfully, kissing his underjaw when a quiet moan rolls from his tongue.

“What’s not fair?” he asks, trying to keep up with the conversation but judging by the way his hip rut against you, you know he’s struggling.

“The fact I’m completely naked while you still have your clothes on…” you observe with a cock of your eyebrow and a smirk grazes his lips as his finger tugs at the elastic of your bra and lets it snap against your skin.

“Ah but you’re not completely naked…” he teases against your lips as his fingers move down your body in a sensual caress.

But being you, you take that as a challenge. So you push him slightly away just so you can move your hands behind your back and unclasp your bra with one movement.

Jimin’s eyes go wide as you flick the undergarment across the room, swallowing heavily before his eyes return to your bare chest.

“Now I am…” is your witty retort as you subtly arch your back just so he can have a better view. He stands there staring at you for a few seconds before he curses and moves quickly to get rid of his clothes.

You giggle at his impatience when he ends up stuck in his T-shirt, sporting an adorable pout. “Easy, baby, I’m not going anywhere…” you joke, sitting up to help him take off his t-shirt with a soft smile, one he reciprocates as he moves to unbuckle his pants.

“Well, it wasn’t me getting too impatient to- Wait…” he stops mid-sentence after taking his pants off. A spark of realization has entered his eyes before he turns to you to meet you with a teasing smile.

“Did you just call me baby?”

Your eyes widen in shock as a blush creeps into your cheeks and with a scoff you lightly shove him for daring to make fun of you.

“Y-you said it first, genius!” you try to justify yourself with a frown, but Jimin’s smirk only grows as he pushes aside his pants and crawls towards you.

“Yeah, but I’m not the one that spent more than half her life refusing to call her partners that because it’s cheesy…” he comments playfully as he traps you beneath his body once more.

“Even if the rule never applied to her…” he smiles teasingly at you, brushing his lips softly against your pout, reminding you that even if you never called your partners “baby”, you never stopped them from calling you that.

You purse your lips together as you look at your fidgeting hands, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. “Well…” you begin, swallowing the lump in your throat, “...you’re different…” you mumble quietly, not really ready to look at him even if you know he feels the same.

That has him halting, and as he sees you too uncomfortable to go on, he doesn’t say anything else. He presses a soft kiss to your knee instead, wishing to convey everything he feels as well through that small kiss.

The movement of his lips on your skin is so tender that has your heart flutter and, while he looks back at you, his smile puts your embarrassment to rest. Because he’s here for you because he feels the same.

“I know it comes a little late but… Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, eyes stuck on your face, tracing your features as if he hasn’t really seen you before, not until now.

The question has your heartbeat quicken even though it’s completely unnecessary. Though your lips stretch out in a smile as you nod.

Jimin leans closer, eyes on your lips as if he’s under some spell. You suppose it’s the same you’re under.

You let his lips envelop yours gently, hands tangling in his hair as you both find yourselves moving back until you’re lying down with Jimin on top of you.

Your hands are greedy to explore his body, even though you’ve done so before. Though that time you’re main motive was to get off, so now gives you the perfect opportunity to get reacquainted with his body, to map out every little detail to memory, until he’s the only thing you see.

His lips move lower to kiss and bite at the column of your throat, eliciting the sweetest moan from your lips that sound like music to Jimin’s ears.

Your breaths get quicker, hands moving recklessly to get rid of the remaining piece of fabric that separates you. Jimin rushes to help you, throwing away his boxers, now standing in his complete naked glory.

There’s nothing else to say, not really when a single look can convey everything you feel without unnecessary words. And the way Jimin looks at you right now makes you feel like you’re in heaven. Like you’re cared for, safe and content right here in his arms.

His hand brushes a lock behind your ear and the motion is so tender, loving, it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Are you ready?” he whispers softly, eyes gentle, ready to back off if you say so, reminding you of yet another reason you’re so helplessly in love with him.

You simply nod, too afraid to talk but your smile is all it takes for Jimin to go forward.

He grabs the base of his shaft, eyes glued at that spot between your legs with anticipation. He moves forward, guiding his tip through your folds, going slowly in case it’s painful but the look of pure bliss on your face and the way your walls welcome his cock has him losing control and going the rest of the way in with a deep thrust.

Your nails claw into the skin of his back with a loud cry while Jimin breathes deeply against the skin of your neck, making goosebumps rise on your skin.

“Fuck, I-...” he exhales, lost in the feeling of your pussy wrapping around him like a grip. “... You okay?” he says breathless, eyes searching yours for anything that’s not okay.

A breathless chuckle escapes you as you press your lips on his jawline. “More than okay. But please move.”

“Oh, thank god….” he mumbles before pulling out and thrusting in again. His movements are slow, yet the perfect pace to help you build up slowly but surely towards a second high.

Jimin rolls his hips with the expertise only a dancer could possess, driving his cock deeper and deeper with each roll, hitting that spot again and you can’t help but close your eyes to savour this feeling.

Shallow breaths leave you as his pubic bone brushes against your clit with each motion, driving you crazy.

“Ugh, you feel… mm’ so good…” he mumbles between thrusts, letting his lips land on your breasts, to suck lovebites on your skin.

“Jimin, fuck…!” you cry out, high-pitched moans escaping you as your hands go to his ass, coaxing him to drive his cock even deeper.

He growls from above your chest before you feel his palm cupping your cheek. “Open your eyes for me, love…” he mumbles quietly and you have no choice but to comply.

Opening your eyes, you’re met with Jimin’s piercing ones, staring at you intensely, burning with unspoken feelings that are too easy to recognize. After all, you feel them too.

You move to the side to kiss the inside of his palm before you smile at him.

He smiles back fondly at you before his hands move to lace his fingers with yours at each side.

“Keep your eyes on me, love…” he whispers before moving again.

This time around, his pace is slightly quicker, his cock hitting your sweet spot with renewed vigour and yet you can only concentrate on his eyes. His eyes that stare at you with such fondness and love it makes your eyes water.

You see the frown on his face before he stops moving in concern, yet you push your heels on his ass to keep him going.

“No, it’s okay, I’m okay, keep going…” you say, almost choking with the emotions overwhelming you. “It’s just that… I can’t believe I’m so lucky…” you admit softly, an unbelievable chuckle escaping you as you stare at him with what you hope he sees as undeniable adoration.

He smiles at you again, -you think you’ll never get tired of that smile-, before he leans in to kiss away the stray tear that flowed free from your eyes.

He picks up the pace once more, resting his forehead on top of yours, as shallow moans roll off your tongue. Your high keeps approaching, you can feel it and still you’re only focused on his eyes. Soft grunts escape him as he drives his hips into you, getting closer to his high as well, his hands grasping yours as if they’re a lifeboat.

He brushes his lips gently against yours before “I love you…” he mutters against you and you think your heart is gonna burst.

You press another kiss on his lips before, “I love you too.”

And then you don’t say anything else as your high approaches and after a few more thrusts you both come entangled in one another, each other’s names on your lips.

You lay like this for a few moments, with Jimin’s body on top of yours as both of you struggle to catch your breaths. Then your eyes find each other again and everything seems so clear, so right.

You can’t stop smiling at each other like lovesick fools as you fall asleep next to each other, at last content.

.

.

When Jimin wakes up the next morning he thinks it was all a dream.

But as his eyes rest on your peaceful sleeping form he knows he could never dream something as perfect as this.

He can’t help the lovesick smile taking over his lips as he looks at you through sleep-ridden eyes. He shuffles closer, resting his face on his hands to get a better look while you sleep soundly next to him. He feels like he can never get enough of you. Not now, not ever.

Suddenly your body begins moving though your eyes remain closed and Jimin figures you’re still asleep.

“Stop being creepy…” you mumble with a sleepy smile and Jimin grins too, realising he was wrong.

“I’m not being creepy…” he argues softly, still smiling. You pop open one eye to look at him unimpressed before you yawn and open both your eyelids.

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause it’s super romantic staring at me while I’m asleep, where can I find another man like that…” you tease him with a drowsy smile as your eyes find his.

He groans dramatically though his smile still remains. “You’re unbelievable…” he mumbles, his voice still gruff from sleep and you have to suppress a shiver before shuffling closer.

“I know but you love me…” you mumble against him before kissing his lips slowly. He lets himself get lost on the kiss before you lean back and he licks his lips to savour your taste.

“And now you can’t take it back!” you exclaim out loud before smiling mischievously at him.

Another groan breaks free from his lips. “Already regretting it…” he comments, checking your reaction from the corner of his eyes.

You gasp as if offended by his quip. “Well, maybe then I’ll just leave so you won’t regret it anymore!” you respond, gathering his sheet on your chest as you make a move to leave his bed.

But Jimin is faster, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you back on the bed, crawling on top of you with a predatory smile.

“Now, now, let’s not result in desperate measures…” he dives in for another kiss.

You can’t help but smile again as you kiss him, hands circling around his neck as he softly bites your bottom lip.

“Careful sir. You might trigger something dangerous here…” you whisper seductively, moving one leg so your thigh can rub against his already half-hard member.

Jimin’s smirk only grows. “Mmm, maybe I like danger…” he responds before his lips envelop yours once more. His hands travel beneath the sheet, tracing your skin before they move lower and-.

A loud bang echoes through the apartment, surprising both of you before a booming voice is heard through the walls, one that belongs to none other than Hoseok himself.

“Have you fucked yet or nah?!”

Your eyes widen, face immediately growing red. Jimin looks at you with an apologetic smile and before you get to ask why Hoseok is asking that, said man bursts into the room.

There’s a sudden explosion of sounds, you screaming as you hide beneath Jimin, Jimin cursing at Hoseok as he pulls the sheet to cover you both and Hoseok whistling at the image before him.

“Woah! You finally did it buds, I’m so happy for you!” he cheers you on as he steps inside to fist bump a very angry looking Jimin and a very visibly confused you.

“Hoseok, excuse my french, but what the fuck are you doing here?” Jimin is positively seething with his friends' interruption but as you see Hoseok basically beaming at the both of you, you can’t help but giggle at the absurd situation.

“I came to see if my buddies finally worked it out! And you did, finally! Can you imagine if you hadn’t and I’d burst through the door screaming that? That’d be awkwaaaaaaard!” he comments, too cheerful to notice Jimin’s deadly stare and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

“Right. That would’ve been awkward…” Jimin comments sarcastically though Hoseok still seems oblivious as he sits on top of the bed with a happy smile hanging from his lips.

You’re about to burst into giggles as you watch Jimin’s eyes growing wider in disbelief and you’re certain he’s gonna kill Hoseok any minute now.

“I’m so happy for you guys! My besties are finally dating!” he comments full of joy and Jimin is about to have smoke pouring out of his ears.

“Hobi, we’re happy too but I think it’d be better for you if you left…” you comment with a smile, pointing with your head at Jimin who’s about to lose it any second.

Hoseok’s eyes widen finally in realization. “Oh, whoops! Right, right, I’m leaving, keep going, stallion, show her how it’s done!” Hoseok throws finger guns at Jimin as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

As soon as Hoseok is out of earshot and you turn to look at Jimin you can’t help but burst into giggles by how absolutely mad he looks.

Though when you start laughing, Jimin’s incredulous stare turns to you. “Why are you even laughing?!”

Even though his ominous stare is directed at you, you can’t stop laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just too funny!” you say breathlessly through your giggles.

“Too funny?!” he asks incredulously before his gaze turns dark. His eyes have your laughter dying in your throat and instead another feeling rising up at the pit of your stomach.

“I’ll show you funny…” he whispers sinfully before he lunges forward and you forget what you were laughing at for the rest of the day.

There are more important matters to tend to.

[jaefmin]

Talent hunt - J.JK

DKSDKLSD HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE <33

➳ Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female reader

➳ Genre: pure crack✨friends to lovers au, lil bit of fluff in the end, friend!jk, crack!jk, the oc's kinda talentless TUMBLR ADDICT OC FOR Y'ALL!

➳ Summary: Jungkook's filled with talents, just like your snack bowl. He can't believe it, that you do nothing except writing your articles. He wants to find it all in you, because he knows that you've got the energy. Read on to find out what happens between both these characters!!

➳ M.list

“I mean, you would have some specialty at least.” He pleaded, again. “I told you already, Jungkook, I don’t do anything.” You replied for the ninth time, sparks of hope left bursting inside you that he would stop. “It can’t be that way. Every person is special in some or the other way, I know you’ve got something.” Those sparks inside seemed to find their way down pretty quick. You found it pretty annoying, especially when he had to do this between your work. You tried to come up with some reply for him to stop. Once you’d tell him about it, he’d think over it and stop annoying you. After thinking for a while with Jungkook sitting in front of you with puppy eyes, you came up with one.

“Yes!! I have a specialty!!” You bursted out, and Jungkook’s face lit up with a bright smile. “Ha!! I knew it!! Told ya!!” His face lit up, excitement filled inside to know what it was. “There’s this site called tumblr, and it’s GOLD. I have a lot of mutuals over there and they’re the reason I’m alive right now. I’m pretty famous there.” Your chest widened at the amount of notes you had on your posts. Jungkook's expression seemed to change every word of your answer, before he came up with another question. “N-no, Social media-? I didn't mean that.. Any real talent? More of like, uhh sports? Drawing? I bet you’re good at drawing!! You’re that typical type with glasses and you’d look pretty good with a brush.” You doubted yourself earlier on calling Jungkook a crackhead, but it seems like you have to doubt yourself upon doubting Jungkook being a crackhead or not now. ‘It isn’t what it seems like, kook. Don’t judge a book by it’s cover.” Jungkook, being back to the moody gen-z he is, rolled his eyes at your comment. “Come on girl!! Don’t be a mom! I know you’ve got this!” He hits you playfully while speaking, at you could have sworn, if he had just applied 🤏🏻 much more force, you would have gone flying ten feet away. “A MOM?!!? EXCUSE ME!?!?” Your tone didn't seem to satisfy him, “Alright, calm down smelly. Since, you’re think good at nothing, we’ll go through a list of things that I’m good at or I know, and then I’m pretty sure we’ll find a good quality from them that you have.” You knew the article you were writing wasn’t going to get anywhere. “One condition.” The man in front of you rolled his eyes once again, “Go on, mom.” You shot a death glare at him and that was all it took; his hands were up in the air, peace written all over his face. “You let me complete my work after we finish this.” Jungkook seemed surprised, “That’s all?” He pauses, “Duh, I’m doing this for you to feel good. I can stop right now if you say.” Being a person who wasn’t contended hurting others feelings, you replied “Alright then, let’s do it.”

He sat on the bed, and you followed him upon it. “Okay, so first question, how fast can you run?” He asks with curiosity. “Hmph, bold of you to think I even get up from my seat.” His eyebrows curl up, and you know that he’s saying something in his head about you, like you’re hindered. “So if you’re saying you don’t get up from your seat, do you only write articles all day?” He questions, “I just told you, you forgetful egg, I’m also on tumblr! And that, I’m telling you, it takes up more than half of my day.” You reminded him, and whenever the thought of tumblr came into your mind, you internally smiled at yourself. ”Jungkook seemed to be in deep thought, and again came up with a question. “Y/N! Yes! You write articles! That’s your speciality!! Your writing’s good!!” Your eyebrows shot up along with Jungkook’s and both of your eyes widened, you’ve come up with something! But the reason you were happy is that this long conversation finished, and you could finally get back to finishing your article. “Yes Jungkook!! That’s the good quality that I have!! So it’s done, we’re finished, and now I’m getting back to my work.” You got up from the bed, and were about to get back to your seat, when Jungkook caught your wrist.

“That’s only one quality Y/n!! I have a lot more things that I’m good at!! It can’t be only one!” You balled your hand into a fist, annoyance filling you up. You tried to calm yourself down instead of exploding right at Jungkook because he’s your friend and you do care about a person’s feelings. You turned, “I know! But I’m so sorry, koo!! I really have a lot of work right now, so mind if we keep this convo for later?” You asked, hoping this would lead to a finished article at the end. You knew this wasn’t getting anywhere, Jungkook would definitely want to continue. “But Y/n,” He placed both your hands in his, “You know you’ve been feeling unmotivated lately, right?” His voice deepened. “It is really important! We need to do this! I understand that your article’s important too, but your mental health should be given more importance. It’s alright if you lose your job, but health-” It’s funny how he makes you think about his duality in every conversation. Sure of the fact that even begging and falling to his feet won’t help in this situation, you intruded his speech. “I understand.” You pressed his hand, “Let’s dive into it!” You were pretty good at fake-smiling and the tone in your voice seemed quite believable, the sarcasm hidden behind. You took your seat on the bed in front of Jungkook. “That’s the Y/N I wanna see!!” You smiled at his innocence, and continued the conversation.

“So, what about any sport that you’re interested in? Maybe something like badminton, football, volleyball, or swimming?” Jungkook’s next question popped up, and it reminded you of the old days. “The last time I swam was when I was ten, because my elder brother accidentally pushed me into the water, and I almost drowned, and like everyone’s parents, even mines were triggered and they pushed me to learn swimming.” Another sarcastic reply made its way through your lips, Jungkook again bewildered by how unattached you are. “And well basketball, I used to like it, but then I almost broke my nose in a match, never found the courage to get back on the ground again. Jungkook was quick to reply, “That’s not called getting triggered, Y/N. They did it because that's gonna help you in some or the other way in future.” Your face went blank at his comment, “Who's being the mom now?” “N-No, I’m not-” Jungkook went red stuttering at every word. "Next thing we’re looking at is… reading! Do you like reading?” He immediately planned to change the topic, your face retaining the blank expression that’s always put on it. Did he just forget that you write articles? Still, boys don’t get these kinds of death glares or eye contacts girls make, so Jungkook stays clueless. His eyebrows furrow up, thoughts muddled up in his mind. After deep thinking for a while, Jungkook strikes. Proudness takes over you, you got yourself a friend who understands girls.

“Nevermind!! We’ll move on?” Your mouth flung open at his reply, a feeling of your hopes shooting to the sky but then immediately bursting out like a firework, sparks falling to the ground. Can someone really expect something from Jeon Jungkook? “I’ve run out of ideas Y/n..” He pouts sadly, and that’s the cue to your happiness. “Okay that��s great! Now I’m getting back to writing my article!” History repeats itself; you get up from the bed to be pulled back down again. Not being someone who can keep their feelings suppressed for a long time, you aim to bawl right at Jungkook, but before anything comes out of your mouth, he interrupts. “Just one more thing Y/n.” The extra amount of innocence spread on Jungkook’s face is something that anyone would give into, and personally you did find him attractive. The way he’s dressed looking all cuddly, you would give into his arms right this second if he asked to. Yes, you did dream about him every night before going to sleep, how fun it would be to have someone like him taking care of you. His duality is out of the question; there’s no one better than him. If it were for him, you’d leave the whole world and give into Jungkook’s arms, but the strings of life keep pulling you back towards them.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize how the time passed by, before you heard a couple snaps in front of your face. “Earth to Y/N???” Jungkook waved his hand in front of you a couple times, bringing you back to reality. Work can be postponed for this angel, just the way you’re punctual. You sat back down and placed your hands above Jungkook’s. He cleared his throat, straightened his back, and began. “Look, people like you, I mean, the ones interested in social media, glasses, look cuddly and cute like penguins,” Jungkook was good, but in some cases you couldn’t guarantee what he would come up with. “I bet you’ve had a boyfriend.” His statement caught you by surprise, your heart racing inside. You didn’t have the courage to reply to him, you are the least interested in opening up. It wasn’t a moment before Jungkook shot back at you, “I’ll tell you what type suits you.” Jungkook’s pretty much of a crackhead, but something urged you not to stop him. You wanted to know which perspective Jungkook looks at you with.

“I think your boyfriend would’ve loved your kisses. I have a feeling you’re a really good kisser, and you would often want cuddles from him. And yes,” He laughs, “You would be a wholesome of cute actions, and there’d be no one else who loved it more than him.” He booped your nose and finished, and not gonna lie, you could drool on him right now. His face was gleaming with compassion, eyes so deep you could drown in them. His lips curved into a tiny smile, the bunny teeth making their appearance. All you wanted to ever do was stay glued to him and keep on listening to those beautiful words that came out of his mouth. His eyes met yours and he leaned you in, a soft expression settling on his face as a stroke of sunlight passed through it. Jungkook continued asking further, “Can I kiss you?” His fingers gently stroked on your cheekbones and his eyes met yours. Faces not centimetres apart, both of your breaths tangled. You locked his lips with yours and gripped onto Jungkook’s neck, your sweet action making him give in. This is what you wanted, and this is what he wanted. You both stayed the same way for a while before separating.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

gon rb and then add the taglist beuase dumblr's mean </3

[simpz-art-stash]

The Breakdown [LMK]

A moment between MKing and Fang where both  finally regard each other and their relationship as father / daughter  & teacher / student. Tags: LOTS OF FLUFF “Again.” A pained groan escaped Fang as she sat up on her sore butt for the upteenth time. “Can’t we take a break?...My tail hurts…” She whined. She was tired, sweaty, and not at all having any fun. “No.”  MKing replied bluntly, “Get up. You’re never going to win if you stay down.” He replied, arms crossed with that same serious look on his face.

She  pouted and with an exaggerated motion, propped herself back up with the  little wooden staff she’d been using since the start of this whole  training business. The poor thing had seen better days, it was  splintered and worn, to the point she’d had to wrap the base of it in  fabric just to keep her hands from getting blisters. Which at this point  had hardly done much to ease her swelling callouses. And that wasn’t  even counting the last few matches she’d endured under her father’s  lessons. Ever since she’d turned 50 or so, that was when they’d  started this whole routine. He’d told her his reasoning for why she was  here, to grow strong and take by his side as his successor in the  future. She of course agreed to it, being the ever giving child to the  Monkey King. She wanted nothing more than to be just like him. To grow  up big and strong and eventually go on her own journey. Right now however she was struggling just to keep her legs from collapsing as she wiped the sweat off her brow. “Again.” He  commanded, snapping her from her thoughts as her eyes glanced across  the field of the dojo into his. She took a breath to steel her nerves  and charged at him. Remembering what he’d told her, putting force into  each step, and attempting to swing into the strike at the last minute. This time, this time- Her  steps were still just as unbalanced as the last attempt, even with her  stance poised properly, it left her wide open for an attack. Something  MKing had masterfully pulled from his observation in watching her run at  him the way she was now. It was sloppy, unfocused, and it didn’t take  him any time at all to swiftly advert her center of gravity around his  and throw her back. And just as before she found her world  spinning in a blurred mess of colors as she was flung back onto the  ground. This time landing on her side where a loud SNAP was heard. As  soon as he’d heard that noise he’d switched his demeanor in an instant  and rushed over, his brow creased as the dust settled. He first saw the  staff broken in two, its splintered bits laying scattered about. But as  some movement caught his eye, he shifted his attention towards that and  saw her moving to sit up, there wasn’t any screaming or crying so that  was a good sign. “Ah geeze..” He sighed, grateful it hadn’t been anything serious, “Come on let's get you a new one-” “I  DON’T WANNA ANYMORE!” She yelled. Which caused him to jump a little at  her sudden exclamation. His attention now primarily focused on the very  distraught child before him. Upon closer inspection she looked fine,  maybe a lil bruised but nothing a good night's rest couldn’t fix. No,  what really caused him to freeze up was the look on her face. She looked at him with a look of fear.

Now, Wukong was a monkey of many things. A proud warrior,  an old general, a friend and then some. He’d taken on countless battles  and fearsome enemies, with very few able to really strike the fear into  his core. But when it came to being envisioned with a look of  fear, and by his own child no less, it left him in a state of shock he  hadn’t felt in quite some time. In that moment of shell-shock  she’d managed to regain her footing enough to stumble on passed him, her  hands wiping at her face as she ran off. “Fang!” He called out to her, “Sweetpeach, wait- I-” It hadn't taken him long to really find her, one peek with his true sight saw her high up in the old bonsai that had been growing on the ledge of the cavern his little hut resided in. But even so..she didn't look anywhere near ready to deal with him right then so he simply sent out a few of the monkies to keep an eye on her while he went off to pick up some food, think things over. And boy did he think things over, if he thought he overthought things before, his mind was practically buzzing like an angry hive by the time he'd finally made it home. He was pushing her and pushing her and at this point he might as well of pushed her away altogether with the way she left him earlier. It broke his heart..seeing his little girl so distraught. All the while he'd been keeping himself blind to the signs for this reason alone, to make her strong..and himself stronger so that when the time came and something worse happened... He shook his head, he didn't wanna think about something like that when she couldn't even leave the island without his guidance.

He still found her in the same place as before, and exchanged a few glances with some of the older monkies that had been keeping an eye on her. They all seemed pretty huffy with him. 'Well that makes two of us...' He sighed. Passing them and climbing up into the tree, his eyes glancing over at the little ball curled tight around a cute little plush he'd made for her. Minikong, defender of the princess, stared back at Wukong, judging him in all his glory. But he could care less at that point, he had enough guilt to flood the ocean several times over, no his eyes were more keen to meet the current bundle taking resident in the little spot in the tree. "Sweetpeach?..." He spoke softly, as if the slightest wake against her fragile little ball would crumble her. It crumbled something when she flinched at his voice.

He cleared his throat when no answer came, "I uh..brought you some dinner." He rose his arm a little, before he placed down a carefully folded package of sliced fruit, all wrapped together in banana leaves. When she made no real movement to go for the food he sighed, "Come'on bud..throw me a peach here.." He pouted. She made a small noise, her little tail curling around her ankle, as if trying to make herself smaller in hopes he'd just forget about her and leave. "not hungry..." A rumble of her stomach claimed otherwise, which in turn got a small laugh out of Wukong, before he had to remind himself of his manners. "You sure about that?? Could've sworn I heard a rather distinguished appetite.." He hummed a little, his eyes never wavering from her furry little tail. She only seemed to grumble something incomprehensible in return. Creasing Wukong's brow as he tried to formulate a means to break through to her, at least enough to where she wouldn't starve herself... His eyes glanced back to Minikong, looking for pity, before an idea came to mind. "What's that Minikong?? She really isn't hungry?? Well that just won't do! And even after I picked her most favorite ripe fruit too..." He opened up the little ball of leaves, revealing the sweet savory piece's he'd so neatly cut up. He wasn't the best but he made due. "Sure would be a shame to let these spoil so soon..." He gave an overly exaggerated sigh, "I suppose that just means I'll have to eat them aaaaall by myself.." His eyes gave a side glance to the slight shuffle beside him. "Every.Last.Piece." "Nooo!!" Fang whined aloud suddenly, her movements jostling the branch she'd taken up residence on. Prompting Wukong to collect the rest of the snack before it met an untimely end to the monkies below. "Hmm?" Wukong quirked a brow back at her, hovering a piece dangerously close to his mouth all the same though. "Nonono!!" She smacked at his arm with Minikong, the traitor taking up arms against their king. "Woah kiddo I was just kidding!-" “Please don’t hate me. I know I can get better! Just train me more!” He froze, the piece in his hand lowering altogether as he turned to look at her altogether and her poor puffy face. Then it clicked. "Sweetpeach..." "I wanna get better, I wanna be strong, but it's hard!! I'm sorry!!" She stared tearing up again, her hands wiping at those big blue eyes of hers as she broke down. "I'm sorry, I'll get stronger, just don't leave me daddy!!" She bawled. And that right there shook Wukong's heart to the core, prompting him to drop what little fruit he had in hand before he finally took her into his arms. Cradling her and trying to soothe her cries. "Shh shh..hey it's okay.." He sighed, commending all those mother's and father's out there for having the strength to last as long as they did with this whole parenting thing...he could only imagine how the hell DBK dealt with it when he'd still been around. When her crying finally seemed to calm down he simply stayed with her like that for a bit, letting his hands comb through her hair while she sat curled up in his lap, so small to the rest of the world was she. He wanted to keep her safe from that world, that terrible merciless expanse that sought to take just as much as it gave. He wanted her to be strong, to keep safe, but he also wanted her to be happy...and what kind of father would he be to fail his own daughter if she wasn't any of those things? "I would never leave you behind...never for the remainder of eternity would I ever think of doing that to you." He softly stated, "I'm sorry I've been so hard on you..I didn't mean to push you as much as I did I just..." He sighed, "I just wanted to make sure that you would be ready. More than I was when I had to face the world and it's many painful lessons..." A sniffle escaped Fang then, her hands gripping at his shirt, before she shifted up a little, enough to look up at him, "Is that why you've been so scary?..." She sniffled, hiccuping a little, "Because..the world is scary..?" She blinked. His face grimaced, trying to keep it together for her sake, he brought his hand up and brushed a few stray tears off her cheek with his thumb. "I guess you could say that..." "I don't wanna..." Her face twisted into a sad frown, a threatening bout of tears pooled along the edges of her eyes despite the snot already running. "I don't wanna face the world if I can't have you with me anymore..." There it was, that remorseful little sliver of guilt that had been biting away at his core for the last few months, finally breaking through his stone ridden skin and jabbing him right in the heart. She'd been doing this for him. Pushing herself for him. To be the successor he told her she'd grow to be one day. She'd been so amped up, so happy to know she had a future to look forward to under his guidance. But that had been back when she was still a child, no better aware of her knowledge of the way things worked more than he did with the humans and their ever-growing fondness for technology. "I'm so sorry I made you feel that way sweetpeach...You don't have to be my successor if you don't want to.." "B-but I do!! I wanna make you proud!!.." She exclaimed, grabbing onto his shirt, "Be strong like you.." "Fang.." He called her name, prompting her to stiffen, he never used that name unless it was serious business. "I'm already proud of you...You've come so far with your training, even if you can't see it, you've already mastered plenty of martial arts! Took me years to find a good starting point and even then I had to fight just to get a teacher as good as myself." He hugged her close, "You don't need to be my successor for me to be proud of you OR to live here, you'll still be my little sweetpeach all the same..." He smiled down at her, easing her fears finally. "Whether you like it or not-" A squeal rang out of her when he lifted her up and began to smother her with kisses. "Stooop!!" She laughed, squirming like a fish out of water as he tickled her silly. "Stoppit!! That tickles!!" "I should hope so! Had me worried all day!!" He grinned, before heard a growl from her, his brow perking up. "Oh? Does the princess have her appetite back finally??" He smirked, finally putting her back down. Before his tail finally put down the bundle of leaves he'd been holding onto and allowed her to pick out the more juicy piece's she liked. "Go on then, I don't want you complain'n later that you missed dinner." He ruffled her hair a little and sat back. "Thank you daddy.." Her voice replied, a little muffled from the mouthful of food she had, but glazed with a sweetness that coated his heart with a sugary glaze that left him warm inside. "Of course bud..."

[cha-lyn]

Milk & Eggs - Fourteen

Farmer!Bucky x Reader

Words: 1998

Summary: Small Town /Farmer Bucky AU // Reader leaves the city to go live with her grandma. She meets an attractive farmer and, no, they don’t hit it off.

Warnings:  fluff and some angst (maybe) 

A/N:  What a ride. This is the Final Chapter of Milk & Eggs. I truly appreciate the feedback. Really - if i didn’t know people were reading this I would’ve never finished it. Thank you, Thank you all. 💛 I have some other stuff in the works so don’t go too far 😏

Master List // Previous Chapter 

- - - 

You spend the rest of the day catching up and planning the week with Grams. You’d have your usual bakes this week, as well as the Henderson twins’ sweet sixteen birthday cake and scones for a housewife the town over who was hosting a tea party. Once it’s all been delegated, you and Grams sit on the back balcony of the apartment with mugs of tea.

You break the comfortable silence with what’s bothering you. “Grams. Do you think Bucky and I are moving too fast?”

She thinks for a moment before answering. “I don’t think it matters if you know how you feel about someone and they feel the same way. Your grandpa and I dated for three months before he proposed and we were married three weeks later. Some say we rushed into it, but we both knew what we felt and we were on the same page.” She stirs some more honey into her tea. You smile. 

Your grandpa was a distant memory for you--he’d passed when you were still young, but you remembered some things about him. He’d been a rancher and had several horses. The memories you did have of him were fond. He’d take you out to do chores with him-and at that time they were fun and you were more than willing. He spoiled you with hot chocolate behind your mom’s back and taught you how to shoot a gun.

“Looking back I would’ve married him in half the time,” she laughs. “Why the sudden concern about how fast you’re going?”

“I made a joke. I said he should get a dog and I’d come over more and he was like ‘You over all the time, come over anymore and you’ll have to move in.’ And then I choked on my coffee and there’s awkward tense silence and then he says he's joking…” you sigh, looking at Grams for guidance. She just chuckles at you. “Don’t laugh, Grams. We had this weird tense talk on the way back about defining our relationship and if we know each other enough and me not being able to see the future--”

“You never have been one to plan ahead, dear,” Grams interrupts. She catches your questioning look. “It’s true. You’d climb a tree effortlessly for the view and then all but lose your mind trying to figure out how to get down. You did things by the seat of your pants. But you always figured it out. You moved here pretty spur of the moment too, come to think of it.”

You chew your lip, “Ugh. That’s your cryptic way of telling me….” You pause and look to her to finish the thought. She laughs and shrugs, “Maybe it’s okay to not have it planned out. You two seem to have a good balance of making each other happy and being honest with each other.” 

You nod, but don’t respond.

—

The next evening there was a knock at 6:30 sharp. You shuffled down the stairs to meet Bucky, who was dressed in his nice jeans and a button up with a bouquet of lilies. Your favorite. 

“Hey slick,” he grinned at the sight of you. “You look beautiful. Got these for you and Sue,” he says handing you the flowers. 

You blush, “Thanks Buck. You look nice, too. Come on up.” You turn to lead him up the stairs, but he grabs your hand.

“Can we—can I just say something before we go up there?”

You nod, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair and you immediately think the worst.

“I really, really care about you. I’m sorry for how things went yesterday … I get what you mean about not seeing the future right now. When I was in the service, we lived day to day. We’d have plans and ideal outcomes, but then shit would happen and plans were just plans, so I get it. Nothing ever really goes as planned. I don’t need a label or a detailed plan for the future. I’m sorry I badgered you for one. I guess I just wanted you to know that I-I’m in this.” He waves his hand in between the two of you. “As fast or as slow as you wanna go, I’m in.”

Your heart thumps in your chest as his words sink in. You stand quietly for a minute, long enough for Bucky to start looking uncomfortable. “Bucky… I-”

“Oh hello James!” Grams’ voice calls down to the two of you. “You guys come on up, I’m taking the food out of the oven now.”

You see your out and start up the stairs, “Uh, Let’s go.”

Bucky sighs, defeatedly, but follows you up the stairs. 

Dinner was delicious, the conversation was much less serious with Grams present. Bucky insisted on doing the clean up--he made Grams relax and almost didn’t even let you help. When the dishes were done and dried, the conversation meandered until Grams let out a big yawn and bid the two or you goodnight. The silence that followed was deafening.

No sooner than Grams had shut her bedroom door, Bucky turns and asks, “Can we pick up where we left off?” You swirl the wine in your glass and nod slowly, but don’t answer so Bucky continues. “I’m in this. Wherever you want this to go and however fast.” Another stretch of silence as the two of you lean against the counter tops, it's getting awkward. “Are you going to say anything?”

“Honestly, there was so much of that with Spencer and then it all blew up in my face. I’m … scared to make plans again-- to have those kind of feelings again just for them to be ruined.” 

As you say it, it’s almost as if it replays in front of you. The initial swell of feelings when he touched you and kissed you. The late nights spent building imaginary houses and naming imaginary kids. But this time as the memories play back, they’re tainted. Soured with another memory, this one painful. You know Bucky isn't anything like Spencer, he’s proven that to you. 

As if reading your mind, Bucky breaks through your fog, “I’m not him. You know that right?” 

“Of course I know you're not him Buck-“ you sigh, planting your hands on your forehead. You had to make a choice and you know in your soul you can’t live with a life of what ifs. “So let’s do the damn thing.”

Bucky’s face broke into that blinding smile. “You sure?” 

“I’m sure I’d regret it if we didn’t try,” you say raising your glass.

Bucky clinks his beer to your glass, before leaning over to kiss you on the top of the head. “Let’s do the damn thing.”

---

Two months later

“Slick, what should I pack for this trip?” You hear hangers sliding as he searches for clothing in his closet. “Slick? I need help.”

You sigh, putting down your book and sliding off the bed. “What do you mean? We already ordered your suit for the wedding.” 

Bucky stands in his closet, shirtless in a pair of old grey sweats. “For all the other stuff we’re gonna do.” 

You wrap your arms around his waist. “Jeans, maybe a few nicer shirts. A hoodie. Bring your bathing suit-- our AirBnB has a private hot tub.”

Bucky hums, “Seems like you’ve planned this whole trip down to the minute. Please show me the itinerary.’

“Nope! I got big plans and they are top secret confidential.”

Bucky turns to face you, hands firmly on your hips. “I bet I can get them out of you.” You cock your eyebrow. “I was in the military, I know torture.” 

You throw your head back to laugh, but that was a mistake. Bucky starts assaulting your very ticklish neck with kisses. You try to push away but he has you in a vice grip.

“Oh. I didn’t know you were ticklish,” he deadpans. His fingers find your sides and though you squirm, you can’t get away.

“You can’t break me,” you choke out between laughs. Bucky doesn’t believe you--Hell you don’t even believe you--so he increases his attack, zeroing in on an armpit. “Ah-st-stop. I can’t breathe.” 

Bucky stops immediately and you bolt out of the closet, “Liar!!” he shouts, following you out, laughing.

You’re trying to catch your breath as you sputter, “Finish packing. Please. We gotta get up early tomorrow to make it to the rehearsal on time.” 

Bucky narrows his eyes, “This is a trap. But fine. I’ll leave you alone. All night. No snuggles, definitely no sex.” 

You roll your eyes, “I know where the blankets are-- don’t you worry about me, worry about packing.” Bucky eyes you for so long you think he might attack again, but instead he turns back into the closet with a huff. 

---

You and Bucky left the next morning for Seattle, the both of you giddy for a weekend away. Once you hit the city, Bucky lets you drive to the quaint AirBnB you chose for the trip. It was a cute little mother-in-law cottage on one of Seattle's surrounding islands and it was right on the water. Bucky was itching to know your super secret itinerary, but you wouldn’t budge on the surprise you had planned for him. You promised he’ll know more after the wedding.

The wedding was gorgeous. Brad and Aaron were both so handsome and their vows made you bawl your eyes out, which just made Bucky pull you closer and kiss the top of your head gently. Spencer was there, a plus one of a mutual friend, but he kept his distance from you and Bucky, so the night succeeded in being very romantic and relaxed. You spent most of it in Bucky’s arms on the dance floor, which is exactly where you wanted to be. He was the last person you thought would have dance skills, but again he surprises you by being quite nimble on his feet. He twirls and dips you until you're both dizzy and in a fit of giggles. 

The next day, despite your busy late night, you and Bucky are up bright and early. Bucky was as excited as a kid at Six Flags, begging you to just break the surprise to him early. You refused of course- it was fun watching him squirm. Bucky questioned your every turn on your way to the surprise.

“So, where are we going?” he asks for the 30th time.

“Bucky. You will see when we get there,” you say smugly.

“I wanna know now.”

“It’s okay to want,” you retort. 

Ten minutes later, you turn into the parking lot of Seattle Whale Watch tours. You look at Bucky, “We’re here.” Bucky’s eyes are wide. 

“We’re going whale watching?” he blinks slowly. “How’d--you remembered? I said that forever ago!”

“Of course I remember Bucky. It was a dream of yours… I wanted to make it come true.”

Bucky just grinned. “You’re the best.”

Bucky’s practically leaning off the boat with the biggest grin ever on his face. It’s been a particularly busy day as whale traffic goes, so Bucky was elated to say the least. “This is amazing. Wow.” He turns to you. “Thank you, slick. I-That was better than I imagined.”

You grin, so pleased that he’s happy. “I’m glad you liked it.”

He pulled you to stand in between him and he railing, “I told you that you knew me,” Bucky said smugly in your ear.

You smile as you turn to face him, “You were right, Buck. But there is something about me that you don’t know.”

Bucky purses his lips, “Doubtful doll.”

You shrug, but continue anyway, “I love you.”

Bucky blinks. “Well shit. I did not know that.” Somehow, Bucky’s smile for you was brighter than it was for the whales and the sparkling blue of his eyes putting the ocean around him to shame. “I love you.”

- - - 

Taglist: as always thank you guys for the feedback/love. It’s SO appreciated. 💛

@notatallfriendly​  @thechaoticargonaut     @booktease21 @iamwarrenspeace  @titty-teetee  @harryngtonewithyourshit  @mcueveryday  @peakyrogers    @thedepressedsponge  @navegandoaciegas

@thefridgeismybestie

@basically-introverted 

[puppywritings]

sometimes they come back - qian kun (ft. huang renjun, dong sicheng, wong yukhei & johnny suh)

⇢   synopsis: kun was distraught when he lost his brother sicheng at a very young age. sixteen years later, he’s moved on from his trauma and made a living as a high school literature teacher. however, with the entrance of a troubled young student, along comes reminders of his brother’s gruesome end and somehow, kun feels a daunting link.

⇢   word count: 9.3k ⇢   trigger warnings: swearing, nightmares, trauma, mental illness, death of a family member, demons, blood, murder, one instance of semi-graphic gore.

⇢   a/n: so this is the longest thing i’ve ever written and i worked pretty damn hard on it. quick disclaimer that although i made renjun very evil i still love him ❤️ (and evil renjun is kinda sexy but u didn’t hear that from me) anyways this story definitely fits in the horror genre and may be disturbing for younger readers!! based on stephen king’s short story sometimes they come back but deviates from the actual plot. see the trigger warnings above and proceed with caution.

⇢   part of @takitaro​ and @starryqian​‘s stephen king collab! thank u for allowing me to be part of such a fun project:)

⇢   taglist: @badwithten​ @sandaigdigan-reads​ 

masterlist

Sunday.

The clock read 03:26 when Qian Kun woke up from his nightmare, panting and covered in sweat. Long ago, this was a familiar occurrence. Long ago, it was strange if he didn’t wake up like this. But, long ago, this all ended. It had been fourteen years since the nightmares stopped - so why were they happening again now?

Shaking, Kun got out of bed and trudged downstairs to the kitchen in the house where he lived alone, and had done for many years now. He flicked the switch to boil the kettle; there was no way he was getting back to sleep any time soon. His toes tapped anxiously on the tile floor while he sat at the table, picking at a hangnail on his left thumb. Why now, all this time after he had recovered, was he being forced to relive his brother’s murder as he slept?

The kettle boiled with a click, and Kun jumped. He huffed, hand on his chest, and went to prepare his drink. Coffee, black. He couldn’t take anything light or sugary, not that night. The sharpness of his beverage bit at him, and it was what he needed - a sensory distraction from the images currently filling his mind. His brother Sicheng, just thirteen years old; the light leaving his eyes as he went limp in Kun’s arms; the blood flooding out of his stab wound, bathing them both in crimson; the greaser gang dispersing, leaving Kun alone to yell, bawl, and beg. Kun shuddered, swallowing back nausea. God, he wanted to forget. But he knew he never could.

(Timeskip - 16 years earlier)

The weather had been fair on the afternoon that Kun lost his brother; the sky was blue, cloudless, and the air was practically alive with all the opportunities for young boys to find fun. The afternoon had begun much like any other. The young Kun and Sicheng, revolting against the idea of spending any time inside while the sun was shining, had set off towards their favourite diner, just a few blocks away. Kun remembered every detail exactly - he had relived the event every time he fell asleep for years afterwards - his brother’s bright blue t-shirt, the freckles scattering his cheeks, the frayed laces in his favourite sneakers. Sicheng was still small at thirteen years old, not yet having hit that growth spurt he was waiting for. In their neighbourhood, plagued with crime, bullies, and greaser gangs, Sicheng’s size put him at a disadvantage. Kun, though not huge himself, always felt protective over his younger brother, and had gotten into many a fistfight in his defence. That fated day felt perfectly normal, up until the moment they turned onto the diner’s street.

Fourteen-year-old Kun sighed. Swarmed around the entrance of their beloved diner was a group of greasers, complete with coal-black leather jackets and huge, hulking motorcycles.

“Come on, let’s go,” Sicheng said, hands tucked in his pockets. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“No,” Kun said abruptly, and Sicheng looked at him in surprise. “I’m sick of living my life in fear of these idiots. They don’t own the diner - we can just walk right past them and go inside. They can’t stop us.”

“Are you sure? What about little Shotaro?”

This made Kun pause. Everybody knew the story about little Shotaro. In the next town over, a boy a few years younger than them had been beaten to a pulp, almost killed, over a ridiculous turf war that he hadn’t even been involved in. Kun clenched his jaw, angry at the injustice, thoughts of the incident only spurring him on. He had more confidence that day than perhaps ever before.

“They won’t touch us.” Kun truly believed this. The group in question, a few years older than the brothers, had never caused them harm before. The most they had done before was chase them, and once spat on them, which had been an awful humiliation indeed, but Kun didn’t think they’d be bold enough to hurt them - it was all an act, a front to look tough. “Let's go,” Kun said with an edge of determination, and Sicheng followed him closely down the street.

As predicted, the greasers weren’t happy when Kun and Sicheng approached them - far from it. A boy, around seventeen or so, eyeballed the boys as soon as they got close. He scoffed when he saw that they weren’t stopping. “Yo,” he barked. “Diner’s ours today. Turn around.”

Kun puffed out his chest despite his nerves. “No.”

The greaser laughed incredulously, elbowing his buddy in the side as if sharing some ridiculous joke. He turned to Kun and Sicheng, looking down at them as though they were ants on the sidewalk. “Hold up. The fuck did you just say?”

“I said no,” Kun held his ground, fists clenched to keep them from trembling. Kun bravely chanced a look up at the greaser and was unable to read his expression. It was somewhere between disbelieving surprise and rage; his eyebrows were pulled tightly downwards, and his mouth was agape, showing a snaggletooth. 

Kun felt Sicheng tug on the back of his shirt, holding onto his brother to ease his anxiety. He spoke up, following his older brother's lead. "We only want to get some milkshakes," he spoke with a tremor to his words. "Let us in."

There were sniggers and sneers from the group of greasers. "No means no, kid. Get lost," the ringleader spoke, leaning in close to Sicheng where he stood huddled behind Kun. "Before I make you wish you were never born. You don’t wanna fuck with me today."

Kun scoffed. "You wouldn't hurt us."

The ringleader raised a skeptical eyebrow at Kun, before stepping back, rolling up the sleeves of his leather jacket. "Grab him, boys."

Before Kun had the time to process the instruction, a pair of arms grabbed him from behind. He pulled, trying to break free, but it was to no avail. With the older boys being bigger and stronger, Kun's struggles were useless. Terror flooded his system; he had been wrong. The greasers weren't afraid to hurt him. They hadn't even hesitated. He had gravely misjudged their threat levels. As Kun grappled with the older boys, Sicheng watched. As if in slow-motion, Kun saw a fist, tightly curled, thrusting towards him, marked with a dark birthmark. 

He heard the crack in his jaw before he felt the blinding pain. The pain was white-hot; it spread throughout his face, scalding his bones and making him groan. The greaser hit him again, and again, busting his nose. Kun felt dizzy with the pain, and his vision blurred.

"Let him go!" Kun heard Sicheng stick up for him as he went limp in the greasers' iron hold. "Let him go, you… y-you…"

The greaser laughed. "Spit it out, kid."

"You bitch!" Sicheng managed, almost panting with the effort.

Kun looked up to see the greaser gaping - Sicheng had managed to genuinely shock him. There was a fire in his eyes that Kun noticed despite his hazy vision. Still detained, Kun watched as the greaser reached into his leather jacket. He saw a silver flash, and naively wondered why he would wield a comb in such a threatening way.

It wasn’t until Sicheng was on his knees, crouched over and clutching his abdomen, that Kun realised it hadn’t been a comb.

“Jesus Christ,” gasped the greaser holding Kun back. He stepped back, releasing Kun, who fell onto his hands and knees. 

“S-Sicheng,” Kun gasped, unable to breathe. Sicheng’s blood poured onto the pavement, and Kun felt it on his hands, warm, as he crawled towards his brother. Distantly, Kun noticed the crowd of greasers disperse, fast, but all he could focus on was Sicheng. 

“Ambulance-” Kun choked out, unsure who he was calling to. “Somebody get an ambulance!”

Kun caught his brother as he collapsed, wheezing. “Sicheng, no- I- you can’t-”

Sicheng’s eyelids were heavy and they struggled to remain open. Kun knew it was too late - there was too much blood on the ground, on Kun. Sicheng went limp in his arms, his eyes went glassy. Kun screamed.

Kun suffered from a dark and heavy grief after losing Sicheng. The world seemed bleak and pointless for some time. He couldn’t understand why he was being made to live in this world, a world without his brother and best friend. What cruel hands of fate would ever take away such a young, innocent life? Plagued by nightmares, Kun trudged through the next few years. 

However, as is inevitable when it comes to the resilient nature of mankind, Kun managed to move on. He went to therapy, vanquished his demons, and held Sicheng close to his heart. He stepped out of the shadow that grief had cast upon him, and vowed to live a better life than the one Sicheng had, the one that was cut far too short. He worked hard, went to a good college, and moved out of the area that was haunted by nightmares of gangs and crime. 

Sixteen years after losing his brother, Kun had made quite a life for himself. He taught literature to wealthy children at a prestigious private school. The school was nothing like the one he and Sicheng had attended in their youth. Kun taught the children of politicians, CEO’s, people with money. The students Kun taught were free of leather jackets and motorcycles, and their pockets had never seen switchblade knives. They thrived in an environment that nurtured its students, looked after them and educated them. Kun lived a calm life, a stable life. He went to work each day and there wasn’t a steel-toed boot or studded leather glove in sight. He was in peace -

Monday.

Until that week. Kun rubbed his eyes as he yawned, stretching his legs, stiff from sitting at his kitchen table for such a long time. Not a single nightmare about his brother’s death for fourteen years, and now, out of the blue… Kun had dreamed of Sicheng’s death every night for a week. It was as puzzling as it was concerning. Kun blinked tiredly, looking up at the clock on the wall of his kitchen. He jumped - he had been sitting there all night. He stood, going to his window and pulling back the curtains. It was true; morning light illuminated the dew drops on his lawn, which was littered with small birds twittering away to each other. He put on another pot of coffee; it was only an hour until he had to leave for work.

Kun had had the week from hell. Each dream had been different; in some, Sicheng roared at Kun, blood gurgling from his mouth as he cursed his brother for failing to save him; in others, Kun was stabbed alongside his brother. Some dreams were a perfect replica of the actual events. One thing remained unchanged, though. Kun never saw the face of the attacker. He knew it was just a matter of his brain blocking out details to protect him, but it frustrated him at times. Kun could never hunt the man down, not even if he wanted to. He could walk past the man on the street and be none the wiser.

His house had begun to feel like a prison; he had spent each night either waking in a cold sweat, or sipping coffee at his kitchen table when the threat of nightmares was too daunting for him to even lie down. And he had spent his days recuperating. A dreadful headache had been afflicting him, and he had taken the whole week off work. Now, however, he knew he had to return. Though still exhausted, and with a dull pounding tormenting his head, Kun was very aware of how easy it was to slip back into a depressive slump. He believed that the normalcy of his work environment would soothe him, and that the darkness that had built up in his home could be shed by a nice, regular day at work.

Or so he thought.

Kun felt uneasy throughout his day at the school; there was a darkness hanging in the air, albeit a darkness only himself picked up on. He coasted through the day, serving mediocre lessons and dodging his students’ questions of, “Where have you been, Mr Qian?” and “Were you sick, Mr Qian?”

Something was off. There were dark clouds that lingered at the edges of his vision, always staying in his peripheral, never quite coming into view. There were cold spots that sent chills down his spine, and whispers that were too distant to decipher. Kun tried to brush off his paranoia as a lingering side effect of the built-up sleep deprivation he was facing, but he simply couldn’t deny the fact that something just felt wrong.

All too soon, the school day ended. Students filtered out of the building, and Kun was alone with his thoughts yet again. Resting his forehead on the cool wooden surface of his desk, he allowed himself a very self-indulgent groan, an attempt to release his frustration and restlessness. It didn’t work - not that he actually thought it would. Kun knew that he could use the excuse of catching up on work to remain in his classroom for a good few hours. However there was a limited amount of work he could stay behind to carry out, and he would have to return home soon enough, back to the darkness and the nightmares. 

Kun stood, stretching his aching muscles, and idly looked out of his classroom window. Winter was approaching - though only just past four in the afternoon, a grey gloom was already beginning to fall as the sky darkened. He would go home now, he decided. At least there he could set the fire going, change into a warm sweater, and make himself dinner as he worked. Kun donned his favourite brown coat, picked up his worn briefcase, and departed his classroom.

“Mr Qian.” Kun stopped on the way to his car when he heard his name. His head whipped around at lightning speed; one could say he was a little on-edge.

“Principal Suh, hello,” Kun greeted his boss.

“You’re feeling better, I hope?” the principal spoke as he caught up with Kun, who faked a smile and nodded. “Great. I was hoping to catch you tomorrow morning but since I’ve got you now; there’s a transfer student, he’ll be in your first-period class tomorrow. I only feel the need to warn you because…” the principal paused, taking a measured sigh, as if trying to find the best words to use. “Well, he’s a bit of a problem child, it seems.”

Kun nodded and smiled at all the correct intervals, clenching a fist inside his pocket to cope with the frustration of how badly he wanted to get home. 

“Nothing we can’t handle,” the principal continued, “Nothing we haven’t seen before. Rich kid lashing out to get daddy’s attention.” Kun gave a cynical laugh. “Huang Renjun. I’ll give you his file tomorrow morning.”

Huang Renjun.

Kun recognised that name from somewhere. He began to think back, but was pulled sharply from his thoughts by a searing pain in his jaw. It was deeply reminiscent of the injury he suffered from all those years ago, during his brother’s accident; the dislocated jaw he sustained when the wretched greaser had hit him.

“Right,” Kun commented distractedly, plastering that fake smile upon his face once again. “See you tomorrow, Principal Suh.” The man smiled, giving Kun a hearty pat on the back before departing. 

Kun hurried to his car. The pain in his jaw was worrying, and it only became more intense with each passing moment. He couldn’t think what could’ve brought this on - surely not repercussions from his previous injury, which had healed fine and hadn’t shown a single problem in sixteen years. He drove home, the ache hanging over him like a thick fog. Once there, Kun fell into his bed, passing out just as the pain became paralysing.

Tuesday, 6:03am

Kun awoke the next morning, feeling as though he hadn’t slept a wink, despite the thirteen hours he had under his belt. Groggily, he brought a hand up to his jaw, rubbing it tentatively. No more pain. That was relieving. Still, even with the lack of pain, he wouldn’t consider the morning particularly pleasant thus far.

Kun had dreamed again that night. Another nightmare replaying Sicheng’s death. This dream, however, had been different from any other before. The faceless entity who stabbed his brother had a name. The name was never spoken, never outright stated, but Kun knew it to be true; his name was Huang Renjun. 

Kun sat up, rubbing his tired eyes. He had a bad feeling. Come on, Kun, be rational, he willed himself. This was just his brain feeding the day’s information into his dream. Obviously there was no link between Kun’s new student and the bastard who killed his brother sixteen years ago - obviously. The logical part of Kun’s brain believed this completely. But he had a gut feeling that something was very, very wrong. He couldn’t shake the feeling, and it laid heavy in his stomach like a stone. He couldn’t shake it as he made breakfast, and he couldn’t shake it as he washed his face and dressed for work. It overpowered even the pounding in his head, which was rather powerful itself.

Kun knocked back some painkillers; he couldn’t take another day off, as he had used up all his paid sick days until the end of the semester. Even if he did have another sick day available, Kun didn’t think he would take it. He had a real feeling of dread, entirely surrounding Huang Renjun, transfer student and alleged problem child, guest and visitor to Kun’s nightmares. Call it morbid curiosity, but Kun had to meet the boy. He wondered if these feelings would go away once he met the student. Kun imagined it, all dread and darkness dissipating when he saw that Huang Renjun was just a regular teenage boy, albeit a little troubled.

Maybe it was just the pessimistic devil on his shoulder, but he doubted it. Everything lined up just a little too nicely for his liking - the return of his nightmares, the unshakable feelings of both dread and paranoia, the ache in his jaw, and the entrance of this child. God, Kun felt like a madman, but it truly felt linked to him.

A while later, Kun was still pondering these things as he paced up and down the staff room, clutching his coffee mug a little too tightly.

“Morning, Kun.”

The greeting was innocuous, harmless. But Kun, like a skittish horse, jumped out of his skin and allowed his mug to fall to the ground, shattering. Kun sighed.

“Woah, sorry,” Yukhei apologised, surprised and worried. “Didn’t mean to scare you there.”

“It’s okay,” Kun waved it off with a shaky smile. “Way too much caffeine in my system.”

Yukhei, gym teacher and Kun’s friend, silently helped him clean up the mess. Kun was thankful, and displayed his appreciation with another smile that he hoped seemed genuine.

Kun looked up, after sweeping up some smaller shards, to find Yukhei looking at him inquisitively. “Are you doing okay?” the taller man asked.

“I- Yeah. Yeah, I’m doing fine.” Even to his own ears, Kun didn’t put on a very convincing show.

“Burnout is a real thing, bro. You gotta take care of yourself.”

Kun’s heart raced a little, at the receival of some genuine human concern. He hadn't realised the effect it had had upon him, isolating himself for that week-long period. Kun nodded, trying hard not to tear up. “Thanks, Yukhei.” 

“I think Principal Suh was looking for you, by the way,” Yukhei mentioned offhandedly. 

The kid’s file - Kun had completely forgotten. In a display of perfect timing, the bell sounded, signalling the beginning of first period.

“Shit,” muttered Kun. 

Yukhei gave Kun a supportive pat on the back. “We should have a catch up soon, man. You know where I am if you need anything.” 

With that, Yukhei was gone, presumably to teach a class, and Kun followed after him, out into the crowds of tired, blathering teenagers. He supposed he’d just have to read the file whenever Principal Suh was free to contact him.

Kun’s classroom was full by the time he reached it - had he really taken that long? he wondered distantly. His students were a little rowdy despite the early hour, seizing the lack of supervision and taking full advantage of it, chatting to each other noisily. They hadn’t noted his arrival yet, so Kun took the opportunity to stand in the doorway for a moment, unseen and undetected. He glanced around the room, and his eyes fell upon his new student easily. 

Huang Renjun. He stuck out like a sore thumb. Where his classmates dressed appropriately in the uniformed navy blazers, Renjun wore a very prominent black leather jacket. Kun swallowed nervously. The boy was facing away from Kun, speaking to his peers, but he knew it was him. Taking a shaky breath, Kun stepped into his classroom, pushing through the panic brought on by one of his triggers. The leather jacket, far too reminiscent of his youth and the traumas he endured there, had had a profound effect on him, but he had the necessary coping mechanisms to deal with it. He inhaled deeply, paused, and exhaled.

Kun cleared his throat as he entered the room, and the chatter quietened. “Excuse me,” he spoke, his voice clear and bold, pointedly avoiding looking at the boy. “I know you’re new here, but you can’t wear that in class.” Still keeping his gaze away from the student, Kun removed his coat and pressed the power button to boot up his computer.

Huang Renjun remained silent, although another student, Haeun, spoke up. “What are you talking about, Mr Qian? He’s wearing the uniform.” 

Kun blinked, finally taking another look at Renjun. The boy had turned around and was, in fact, complying entirely with the uniform code. Blazer included. No leather jacket to be seen. A few students snickered at Kun’s mistake. Luckily, he knew he wouldn’t get mocked too much; most of his students respected him highly. He was well-liked, generally. They would let this mistake pass.

Renjun wasn’t looking at Kun. His gaze was pointed straight down towards his desk, face hidden behind long bangs.

“Oh. Right. I apologise, it must’ve been a trick of the light.” Kun gave a sincere apology. Though he was paranoid, exhausted, filled with dread, he wasn’t going to forego his manners.

“No worries, sir,” Renjun forgave him easily. He sounded like a regular teenager, Kun thought, although he wasn’t sure what else he expected. The student looked up at Kun, using his hand to flick his hair out of his face. Kun noted the mark on his hand, the dark birthmark. He began to feel dizzy; he knew that mark. 

Out of nowhere, Kun felt that pain again - that white-hot, blinding bite in his jaw. It reached out its burning tendrils, spreading all throughout his face. Kun stepped back, staggering almost, as he cupped his jaw apprehensively. Kun was still looking at Renjun, who moved his stare, looking directly into Kun’s eyes.

Renjun’s eyes were black. No whites, no iris. Pure, solid black.

Though Kun didn't think it was possible, the pain intensified. Grey spots danced across the classroom as his vision went spotty, fizzling like static on a television. Kun swayed, reaching out to grab the edge of his desk for support but missing it entirely, catching thin air instead. Heavy as a stone, Kun fell to the ground, passing out.

The last thing he saw was Huang Renjun glaring at him, a malicious smile on his face.

Tuesday, 9:53am

Kun's eyes snapped open. The fluorescent lights above his head were harsh, and he winced, blinking. He was lying down; where was he?

"Oh, you're awake. How are you feeling, Mr Qian?" The school nurse, Joohyun. Right. He had passed out in class.

Kun sat up abruptly. Huang Renjun - that piercing gaze, the menacing grin. 

Nurse Joohyun spoke to him again. "You passed out during first period. Do you remember that, Mr Qian?"

"Yes," Kun confirmed, rubbing his jaw and reminiscing of the pain prior to his fainting spell. It was now entirely painless. "Migraine," Kun materialised his excuse on the spot, "They've been bothering me lately."

"Ah," Joohyun nodded in sympathetic understanding, talking as she prepared Kun a cup of water and passed it to him. "Nasty things. You should go home and rest for the remainder of the day. Will you be able to drive yourself home?"

"Yes, thank you." Kun didn't realise how thirsty he was until the water passed his lips. He drank it gratefully.

Nurse Joohyun departed, leaving Kun in the quiet once again. He finished his water and left the school with haste. Once in his car, he allowed himself to fall apart a little, unseen. When he threw his head into his hands, he found that he was shaking, trembling. Was this it? Was he going insane?

No. Kun’s mind was sharp. He knew it was still intact. He always had been a logical man, and so he remained. He only believed in what he saw, what he knew to be the complete truth. And even now, when the very truths of reality had become so dark and twisted, he knew that what his mind believed was the absolute truth.

He kept his eyes trained directly on the road, focused straight ahead as he thought. He had to be rational here. In completely untenable circumstances, Kun had to remain tenable. In this utterly illogical situation, Kun had to think logically.

He laid the facts out in front of him: sixteen years ago, his brother was stabbed. He suffered from terrible grief. He went to therapy, grew up, the nightmares went away. He worked hard, got a good job, and moved on. Everything was okay. Right?

Then the nightmares returned. A new student arrived at his school, Huang Renjun. He started getting splitting pains in his jaw, right where that bastard punched him before murdering his brother. The student featured in his nightmares. He had the same birthmark as that killer. Kun made eye contact with Renjun and passed out. And the student had looked at him with that expression, that malicious smile. A look of pure evil.

And so, illigocial, irrational, implausible, untenable as it was, Kun knew it to be true. Sixteen years ago, Huang Renjun murdered Sicheng. And now, sixteen years later, Huang Renjun was a student in Kun’s class, not having aged a day.

Kun was home before he knew it. He went inside, but didn’t rest. He didn’t sleep, didn’t close his eyes for longer than a blink until the next morning.

Wednesday.

Kun felt unsafe in the school. He was angry; how dare this entity make him feel so uncomfortable in his own place of work? He felt the lingering darkness, even when he was surrounded by students and faculty. It smothered him like a blanket of smoke, impossibly heavy and making him choke.

Kun wasn’t teaching Huang Renjun’s class that day. Yet he was still terrified. Paranoia tinged his vision, altered his very perception of reality; every student that entered his classroom was Renjun, until he blinked and they weren’t. Every sudden movement was a punch flying towards his jaw, until he shook himself and there was no threat. He was completely on edge all day. 

While Kun was exhausted, he was also overwhelmed with the energies of a thousand different emotions. He was terrified, paranoid, furious, devastated. He couldn’t believe that he was back here, replaying Sicheng’s death in his mind over and over. This piece of shit, this monster - he was here solely to fuck with Kun. And the worst part of it was that he was succeeding. Kun felt defiant. He couldn’t let this thing ruin him. Not for a second time.

Kun looked around. The sun was shining brightly, but he didn’t feel its warm rays. He stepped on a piece of bright pink bubblegum, flattened on the pavement, but his shoes didn’t stick. He looked up; thirteen-year-old Sicheng was looking back at him.

Oh, fuck. Not again.

Kun wished he could grab his younger brother by the arm and march him back home, stopping the imminent events before they even happened. But the picture was already in motion. Before Kun knew it, he and Sicheng were stood before the greaser gang. 

“Diner’s ours today. Turn around,” barked the ringleader, Huang Renjun.

Wait, Huang Renjun?

Surely enough, the boy from Kun’s class was in front of him, in all his greaser glory - leather jacket donned, hair slicked back, snaggletooth displayed in a mean snarl. Slowly, the other greasers melted away, ceasing to exist in this dreamland. Even Sicheng evaporated. Only Kun and Renjun remained.

“What the fuck do you want with me?” Kun asked, his voice dripping with equal parts anger and desperation.

Renjun shrugged, smiling smugly. He looked as though he were playing his favourite game. “You’re fun to mess with, Kun.”

“Fuck off,” Kun bit back. “Haven’t you messed with me enough?”

Renjun laughed. And laughed, and laughed. The hideous melody went on for far too long, and Kun winced at the sound. “I’ve barely even begun messing with you, Kun! Wait and see, how depraved you’ll get. People do funny things when you push them far enough.”

Renjun stepped closer to Kun. Somehow, the child towered above him. “And I- Can’t- Wait-” each word was punctuated by a tap on Kun’s nose, “To see what you’ll do.”

Kun tried to slap his hand away, but missed. “You’re sick,” he spat, “You’re a monster.”

“Well, duh,” Renjun scoffed. “You’re just stating the obvious here, Kunny.”

“Get the fuck away from me,” Kun hissed, stumbling backwards. He turned, running down streets that were so familiar yet so distant to him.

“You can run,” Renjun’s voice followed him, “But you’ll never escape.”

Kun woke with a start, panting in his bed. His usual calming mantra of “It’s just a dream,” did nothing that night. Kun knew that it was far more than a petty nightmare. This was real - all too real.

Thursday, 11:12am

Kun had Renjun’s class again that day, and he was determined not to let the child hurt him. He had it figured out, or so he thought; don’t look the kid in the eyes, don’t speak to him, don’t even acknowledge his presence. And then Kun would be safe. This was all a game to Renjun, and Kun would not be playing. He simply would not engage.

The class began relatively smoothly. Though it was late morning, the sun hid behind thick clouds which produced a healthy drizzle, darkening the world and giving the background noise of rain against the classroom windows, pitter patter. Kun worked hard to ignore the heavy weight that hung over him, and the dark energy that Huang Renjun exuded from the back of the room. Nobody else seemed to pick up in it, but Kun sure as hell did. He could've collapsed under its pressure, it was so heavy. But he remained strong, resisting toughly against its darkness.

Kun gripped a paperback tightly in his hand. Macbeth. A text he knew well, and found easy to teach.

"So," Kun explained to his class, "As she desperately tries to rub away this invisible bloodstain, we see Lady Macbeth-"

"Sir." Kun was interrupted by Renjun. He ignored it.

"We see Lady-"

"SIR," Renjun interrupted again, raising his voice.

Kun looked around the classroom. Nobody else seemed perturbed by the boy's yelling, nobody so much as batted an eyelid. They all looked rather bored, staring off into space or doodling in their notebooks. Part of Kun wondered whether anyone else had actually heard what he did.

He gave a level sigh. "What is it?" he answered the boy. Kun refused to speak his name, refused to even look at him. He kept his eyes directed down towards the book in his hands, and he noticed his knuckles turn white with their grip. 

"Why are you staring at me?" Renjun's tone was lazy, playful. He was toying with Kun. Driving him to his limit? Daring him to snap?

"I'm not staring at you," Kun responded, remaining calm. It wasn't easy; Renjun's darkness was overwhelming, pulsating in the air, making Kun's head throb. It brought out the worst in Kun. Oh, how badly he wanted to throw the boy across the room. But he wouldn't. He would stay calm.

"Yes, you are," Renjun argued, and Kun could hear the smirk in his voice. 

"I'm not," Kun denied.

"You are," Renjun returned.

Kun dropped his book, which fell with a slap onto his desk. "I haven't glanced at you once this whole lesson," he snapped. Kun cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure - if one could consider this shaky state composed. "We see Lady Macbeth's descent into madness. Now, can anyone tell me-"

"Well that's strange."

"Can anyone tell me how-"

"Why are you avoiding me, Kun?"

"Huang, go to the principal's office."

As soon as Kun spoke that name, the deep, dark energy that had been smothering Kun for the past twenty minutes permeated his body, penetrating his very soul. He shuddered. It was dark; so very dark. It was as if by speaking his name, he had let the beast touch him. He had let him inside, he had been infected.

"Fine," Renjun said, standing up. His desk was empty, unlike the students that surrounded him. He had no notebook, no notes. No pencil case, no pens. With nothing to gather, he marched straight to the door.

Kun, in a moment of weakness, or perhaps just a moment of pure stupidity, glanced at the boy for a split second before he slammed the classroom door behind him. A split second was all it took. 

Again, Renjun's eyes were fully black. He grinned at Kun, but it was very much unlike the menacing grimace he had displayed a few days prior. His teeth were bared, rows and rows of razor-sharp fangs, needle-like in nature. They were sheer white, polished and shining, piercing Kun's heart from ten feet away.

The door slammed, shutting him out, but that split second was long enough to instill fear in Kun's deepest core, absolute terror. The external darkness eased a little once he was gone, returning to a low hum of evil energy, but Kun was shaking as he resumed the lesson. 

As expected, Renjun's behaviour had gone entirely unnoticed by the rest of the class. They didn't even seem disturbed by Kun's raised voice - he was extremely glad about this. He had a deep integral belief that it was wrong to yell at his students. He would have been kicking himself. But he knew Huang Renjun wasn't a student. It wasn't a teenage boy, it was something dark, dangerous.  a powerful entity from god-knows-where.

Kun gave his students a task to complete at their leisure, and took a seat at his desk. He gripped the heavy oak, trying to still his shaking hands. Maybe he ought to go back to therapy, he considered. But where would he even start? With the death of his brother? With the return of his nightmares? With the entrance of Huang Renjun. 

No, he dismissed the idea. No competent therapist would believe him - he would be sectioned and medicated after a single session. Plus, whatever was going on was solely between him and Renjun; it was completely unseen and unacknowledged by anybody else.

Kun sounded delirious, even to himself. Nothing in science or logic could possibly provide an explanation for what was happening. But he knew it was real. He knew. Huang Renjun was something cruel, something sick. Something that had crawled right out of hell, directly to Kun's doorstep to torture him. He would figure this out, he vowed. He would rid himself of this beast.

Thursday, 3:49pm

The end of the day - Kun had made it. He let himself relax in his desk chair, leaning back and closing his eyes. He had to admit, he was rather proud of himself. Yes, he’d had a minor run-in with the boy, but he’d managed to diffuse the situation and rid himself of the problem. And, more importantly, he hadn’t passed out this time. Kun scoffed at the hilarity of it all - what a ridiculously low standard for a good day, reaching 3pm without suffering a fainting spell. He would go home and treat himself, he decided, by cooking a comforting stir-fried beef dish.

Knock, knock, knock.

Kun sat forwards with a jolt, gripping his desk tightly for some form of stability. He hated living in this near-constant state of fight-or-flight - it could easily be a quiet freshman, coming to ask questions they were too shy to raise in class. It could have been a colleague, a parent, any number of harmless guests. Despite all of the possibilities, Kun’s mind went to the worst place. He was certain he knew who it was. God, don’t let it be him. 

The door swung open in a dreadfully slow manner. Pale fingers wrapped themselves around the door, which gave way to reveal none other than Huang Renjun; just Kun’s luck.

“What do you want?” Kun asked the boy, hackles raised.

Renjun didn’t respond. He closed the door behind him, and the click sent shivers down Kun’s spine - what was he doing? Kun could only watch, frozen, as the boy moved. He grabbed a chair from behind a desk, and brought it to Kun’s desk. The shiny metal squealed as it was dragged across the floor, making Kun wince. Renjun sat on the chair backwards, facing Kun and leaning his arms on the backrest. He rested his head on his arms, looking up at his teacher. He was the picture of innocence; wide eyes, a small mischievous smile present on his lips. Kun only sat in silence, waiting for the boy to act. He was action-ready, prepared to bolt (or even fight) should Renjun do anything drastic.

Kun wasn’t sure how many minutes passed before Renjun spoke. Until that point, they had simply been staring at each other, Kun with a panicked look in his bloodshot eyes and Renjun clearly enjoying the effect he was having on the older male. “I’m sorry for upsetting you today,” Renjun said. Kun didn’t reply, only moving his hands to his thighs, digging his nails inwards to ground himself. “Why do you have it out for me?” Renjun spoke again.

To an outsider, the scene would have been simply heartwrenching. Renjun, a very obviously damaged adolescent who had been hurt by the world many times, looking his teacher in the eye and asking why, pleading almost, begging to be treated right for once in his young life. He sounded like a sad, broken young man; innocent, confused, curious. 

Kun knew it was a ruse.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Kun denied, his voice low and flat. He gathered some papers on his desk and shuffled them. He busied himself, so as not to get lost within Renjun’s dark energy again. If he were to pass out here, completely alone in the classroom, he had no idea what would become of him.

Renjun continued his sad little boy pretense, flashing dark puppy-dog eyes up at Kun. “I didn’t do anything to you,” he cooed. “I’m just a kid, right?”

Kun was certain that Renjun was playing games with him now. He knew that Kun knew. “You’re not just a kid,” Kun snapped, snarling at the boy in front of him. He threw the papers back down on his desk, rolling backwards in his chair to put distance between himself and the child. The sky opened up all of a sudden, rain pouring from the heavens.

“C’mon, don’t be mean,” Renjun drawled. “Play along, Kun. I’m just a kid… Right?”

“I’m going home,” Kun stated abruptly, standing up and preparing to remove himself from the situation. Renjun began to cackle, but Kun did everything he could to shut the boy out. He picked up his briefcase and slung his coat over his arm. A dash of thunder cracked through the sky, and Kun jumped.

“I left you a surprise there,” Renjun spoke, his voice playful.

Kun turned, running out of his classroom and sprinting down corridors. What the fuck had that bastard done to his house? He was barely even aware of the rain once he reached the school’s exit, though it drenched him in a matter of seconds. In the mad dash to his car, his hair fell flat with the rain, sticking to his forehead, and his shirt clung to his body, turning see-through. He rifled through his coat pockets, hunting for his car keys. 

To the stray students that lingered after school hours, Kun probably looked deranged. But others’ perceptions of him were the least of his worries at that moment. He had no idea what Renjun was capable of - he had no idea what Renjun even was. A ghost? A demon? Something else? He truly didn’t know. He had to get home, and fast.

Kun was panting when he reached his house, worked up into a complete frenzy of anxiety and agitation. He swung into his driveway hastily, not wanting to lose any precious time perfecting his parking. Half on the driveway and half on his lawn, he stepped out of his car, staggering.

His front door had been completely torn off its hinges. Kun’s hands met his hair, tugging in helplessness. The door itself was laying haphazardly inside the doorway - if you could even call it a door any more. It was in two pieces, ripped apart. Shards of glass and wood were discarded all around. What the fuck had the monster done? 

Kun dreaded to think what this looked like to his neighbours. The elderly couple to the left of him must have been terrified to see that beast rip through his house like a hurricane - how had the police not been called yet?

Kun gritted his teeth as he entered his house. He knew he had drawn the curtains that morning, but they had been pulled shut since. He squinted, eyes adjusting to the darkness as he fumbled for the light switch with shaky hands. He almost whimpered when the light flickered on. His armchair had been flipped, and his couch was torn, littered with slash marks, made by a knife or even a pair of claws. Kun looked around the room in horror - this was his home. He felt so attacked, so violated. 

His eyes fell upon the mirror that hung above his fireplace, and he was forced to hold onto his ruined couch to save his buckling knees. Scrawled across it, in burning crimson, was his brother’s name, “SICHENG.” 

Kun couldn’t breathe. He looked through the letters to his reflection. He looked every bit as distraught as he felt. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, which he supposed he hadn’t, not properly. He looked like a man whose life was falling apart.

His home wasn't a safe place for him any more. Physically nor emotionally. Kun darted around his house, grabbing an old duffle bag and filling it with essentials - a change of clothes, his toothbrush, phone charger. He supposed he didn't need his keys, not when any old stranger could wander inside from the streets. After a moment of deliberation, he threw in his largest kitchen knife too. 

Fifteen minutes later, Kun pulled up at a dying establishment, parking his car a little more neatly this time. Elliot Motel read the faded sign, desperately in need of a paint job. The place was deserted - Kun wouldn’t have been surprised to see a tumbleweed rolling past. But it was remote, and it was a place away from his home where he could lay low and hide out until he figured out what to do.

The bored receptionist hadn’t spared Kun a second glance, for which he was grateful. Once in his allocated room, he double-locked the door and pulled the curtains tightly shut. He didn’t even dare turn on the light, for fear of the yellow glow being visible through the curtains. Although it would come as a shock to him if the place even had working electrics. The dark was better; it gave him a sense of anonymity, and it kept the cockroaches hidden from his view. 

Kun perched on the end of the bed, resting his head in his hands. He could hear his heart hammering, the pulsating sound rattled around his head and he could feel it. He couldn’t think straight - his only emotion was blind panic. He leapt up from the bed, too much energy to stay seated. He paced back and forth in the dark, almost tearing out his hair in terror.

Hours passed but Kun couldn’t settle. His brain was going a mile a minute, darting from one place to the next. He was frazzled, and he had no idea what the fuck he was supposed to do. He was angry, enraged that this demon would fuck up his life and his home like this. He was terrified, and he felt as though he may be ambushed or attacked any minute. He couldn’t think straight. And exactly as the clock struck midnight, the phone in his dingy motel room began to ring.

Kun yelped, the harsh trilling ring boring into his soul and making him jump. He scrambled to the old rotary phone, tightly gripping the handle and pulling it close to his ear. He heard nothing at the other end, other than very faint static.

“Hello?” Kun spoke. His own voice shocked him - he sounded so unstable, like a scared little boy. The same scared little boy who would wake up from nightmares of losing his brother all those years ago.

A rattling noise came out of the receiver. After a few seconds, Kun realised it was the sound of somebody breathing. Even yet ragged breaths, loud and crackly through the ancient telephone. Kun knew exactly who it was.

“I know it’s you, bastard,” he hissed into the phone. He was met with more silence. Kun was furious. This monster was ruining him - look at what he’d turned him into. A grown man, a man who was esteemed and well-respected. Crouched on the floor of a dingy motel, clutching a telephone, his once neat shirt and trousers now rumpled and sticky with sweat. This couldn’t go on any longer, Kun decided.

“Meet me at the school. 3am. We’re ending this.”

Thursday, 2:34am.

Kun was ready. It hadn't been easy - he'd been through hell and back - but he was prepared. He knew what had to be done, and he was willing to do it.

In the hours since the dreadful phone call which had riled him up immensely, Kun had darted all over town. 

To the library, where he had left a broken window in his wake (and he could only hope that his makeshift mask would be enough to save him from breaking and entering charges). He had encountered a dusty section he had never noticed before, which was strange in itself. Being a teacher of literature, the library was a place he frequented, though this section he had never happened upon. He was convinced it only bore itself to those in need, but that fact was neither here nor there. He had rifled through the section, leaving pages torn and books scattered, something he never would have done in his normal life. But he did the research he needed to do, and got the exact knowledge he required.

He had driven back to his house, which no longer felt like a home, to pick up one of the few precious belongings of Sicheng's he had left - necessary for the sacrifice. He had paroled the streets, searching for a stray animal. He never would've harmed an animal but the blood of an innocent creature was needed. He pulled though, apologising deeply to the stray dog which yelped and bit at him.

And there he stood, in the middle of his classroom, clutching his duffle bag which was filled with the most mismatched assortment of offerings. Raising Demons, the book which had proven most informative, Sicheng's red woollen scarf, a vial full of dog's blood, the butcher knife from his kitchen. He looked like a hot mess and he knew it; his shirt was untucked, most of the buttons now undone, and he had lost his tie long ago. He was panting, and he couldn't seem to find his breath no matter how long he stood still. 

He looked around his classroom. It was empty, but soon that would change - and that wasn't a comforting thought by far. God, he was wasting time, he thought as he stood there dumbly. But where the fuck did he start?

He ran to action, shoving away the desks that surrounded him, creating a clearing in the centre of the room. He threw open the cupboard at the back of the room and pulled out the old stereo that lay dormant in there. He messed with the dials, twiddling them back and forth until static blared out. He flinched at the sound, but it was no louder than the blaring panic that had been reverberating around his skull lately.

Not wanting to waste another minute, Kun sprinted to the front of the room, grabbing a marker pen and setting to work on the floor. As meticulously as he could with his shaking hands, Kun drew a pentagram, tainting the floor of his beloved classroom. He yanked open his duffle bag, trembling as he placed the items around the pentagram. He picked up the stolen novel, Raising Demons, and jumped to the page he had dog-eared. 

Well, Kun thought to himself, No time like the present. 

He recited the passage, focusing heavily - he couldn’t get a single word wrong. “Dark Father, hear me for my soul’s sake. I am one who promises sacrifice. I am one who seeks vengeance of the left hand. I bring blood in promise of sacrifice.”

A wind picked up in the classroom, dark clouds materialising and flying around the pentagram in a tight circle, a tornado of evil.

Kun had thought he’d witnessed true darkness in the presence of Huang Renjun; he thought he had seen what evil really was. He had been wrong. True darkness, true overwhelming power, true and pure evil, was what he had summoned before him. Renjun was nothing in comparison to this beast. Kun felt sick. 

A voice spoke to him, hissing and spitting, from deep within the clouds. It was deep, grating, abnormal. “What do you ask of me?”

Kun looked down towards the ground. He didn’t want to peer too deeply into this void that had materialised - he knew that anything he saw would scar him deeply. Its energy was horrific enough. This wasn’t a sight he wanted to see. He spoke as clearly as he could, raising his voice to the demon. “Rid me of the spirit that plagues me.”

“Then give me what is mine,” the voice rumbled back.

Kun nodded, trembling. He kneeled on the floor, picked up the butcher’s knife. He placed his hand on the floor, all fingers curled under his fist apart from his pinky finger. He closed his eyes, whimpering as he braced himself. Kun raised the knife and brought it down fast. He yelped; the pain was immense, but he knew he hadn’t yet severed the bone. He took a second hit. A third. A fourth. Again, and again. As Kun screamed, the appendage finally detached. 

He reopened his eyes, recognising the blood splattered across the floor as his own. He used the knife to nudge the detached appendage into the pentagram, his nausea intensifying. Blood was spurting from his hand at an alarming rate, and he clutched it close to his chest.

The voice spoke again. “It will be done.”

Kun looked to the clock in his classroom, just as it turned 3. Renjun appeared in the doorway with that now-familiar evil smile on his face. Kun’s vision was spotty, but he could still see Renjun’s grin fall instantly. He couldn’t read the expression on the thing’s face. It could have been rage. It could even have been fear.

“No,” Renjun roared. “What have you done?”

The tornado picked up, and Kun flew flat on his back with the intensity of the wind. A pinprick of light spawned in its centre and Kun had to shield his eyes from it, hiding in the crook of his elbow while his other hand was still clamped close to his chest.

“No! No! Fuck you, Qian Kun!” Huang Renjun shrieked, until… silence. Everything was still. Kun sat up, dizziness wracking his senses. For the first time since the whole ordeal began, he felt something similar to calm. The room was quiet, still, and empty, save for himself. The demon he had summoned was gone. Huang Renjun was gone. The quiet disoriented him; he felt like it had been a while since he truly experienced quiet.

Kun picked up his knife once again and cut along the bottom of his shirt, wrapping the material tightly around his stub of a finger in an attempt to slow the bleeding. He felt faint - he knew he’d lost a substantial amount of blood. He stood, staggering out of his bombsite of a classroom and stumbling into the hallway. He bent, heaving onto the floor, bile burning his throat and mouth. He probably needed to get to a hospital, but how would he explain himself?

Kun felt a pat on his back - a warm, comforting gesture. Wiping saliva from his mouth and chin, he looked up, and found himself staring into a pair of friendly brown eyes, surrounded by aged wrinkles. Something inside Kun simply knew that he was a kind figure, a peaceful figure.

“It’s gone now, son,” the old man spoke, his voice croaky. Kun merely stared at him, wide-eyed, as he talked. “I’ve had students like that one before. They feed on your energy, eat away at you. Look into your past to find the best way to torture you. But it’s gone now. It’s gone.”

Kun stood up straight, or as straight as he could manage in his current condition. He didn’t recognise the teacher standing before him. “Who are you?” he panted, squinting at the other man.

“Don’t worry about me, son, I’m long gone” the man responded with a wry smile. “I taught here long, long ago. Just listen to me - my God, son, if you take notice of one thing in your life, let it be this -” the man leaned in close to whisper in Kun’s ear. Kun closed his eyes, listening as closely as he could despite his faltering consciousness. “When you involve yourself with something like this, sometimes they come back.”

When Kun opened his eyes again, the man was gone.

Kun wobbled outside, breathing in the night air as if he’d been deprived of oxygen for weeks. It was over, the weight on his chest was gone. He could breathe. He could live. All he could do now was pick up the pieces. But the old man’s words echoed in his mind,

Sometimes they come back.