#ignore the ever present feeling of YEARS that this was a Significant Person you Knew would be back in your life

[cascadianights]

The experience: Repeated positive contact and communication

My brain: I think what we need here are constant reminders of why you're inevitably doomed to be only negative forces in each other's lives bc a relationship when you were 20 didn't work out

[batz-surveys]

7.

Do you keep notes, drawings or letters that people give you? Yes, definitely. I'm a very sentimental person.

Have you ever been locked in a car with a significant other? Yes, of course. The first thing we do when we get in the car is lock the door.

Have you had a significant other that you never kissed? No.

How many true best friends are present in your life? Honestly, one. It's my brother so I'm not sure if it even counts.

Do you currently have a significant other? Yes, I have a husband.

Would you ever sacrifice anything for someone you care about? Depends on what it is and who it is, but most likely, yes.

Do your parents approve of the people you hang out with? Sure, the only people I hang out with are them and my husband's family.

Would you be able to stand being in the same room as someone you hate? No.

Do you depend on people at all, in any way? I do. I don't drive, so my husband drives me almost everywhere I need to go. If not, then my dad is happy to give me a ride because he's retired and always looking for things to do. And then if that's no good, I'll just take a Lyft. I don't mind - it makes me feel like a city girl, haha.

Have you ever lost a close friend? Yes. Not to death, but other reasons.

Has anybody ever held a grudge against you for a dumb reason? Yeah, but I've also done the same so I'm not any better.

Has anybody ever dated you only for your looks? I'm sure of this, though it was never said. I dated this guy named Russell and after we started saying "I love you" eventually our relationship got more physical, and he would say things like "I love parts of you" after I'd say it to him. That made me kind of sad reading my answer.

Have you ever stayed up late talking to someone you like on the phone or online? Yes to both.

Do your friends like the people you date? Do their friends like you? Whenever I was dating, my friends had to approve because their opinion was important to me. Looking back, knowing what I know now, I probably would have just done what I wanted to do since some of the people they liked and said "go for it" ended up being some of the worse.

Do your parents let you date, or do you sneak around? I'm a grown woman with a husband, haha.

Have you ever felt backstabbed by a close friend? Yes, almost all of my female best friends did something behind my back. It's why the older I got, the more I weeded them out and just hung out with my guy friends. They're no drama and they tell you shit straight up. I miss them sometimes, especially when like, new video games release. I always thing, "Awh man, me and the guys would probably go to a midnight release." Anyways, yeah, I've been stabbed in the back so many times and I think it's why it's hard for me to make friends. I have a very hard time trusting people. Plus, it's difficult to make new friends in your 30s.

Do you have any handshakes with anybody? I have a handshake with my husband that we've been doing forever.

Have you ever regretted ignoring anybody? I don't think I ignore anyone, because I know what it feels like to be ignored.

Has a friend of yours ever confessed their love to you? Yes, this happened twice. The first time my best friend at the time did it, because we were in a fight. I swore she was flirting with our friend that she knew I liked, while we were at the fair, and I called her out on it. The guy had taken us to the fair, and was driving us home, and he parked in a parking lot, and got out and said, "I'm not driving you home until you guys talk this shit out." So, in the middle of the fight she just yells, "I'm not flirting with him, because I'm in love with you!" We made up, and years later we ended up together for a little over a year, haha. The second time, another best friend at the time, told me she loved me. We were stoned off our asses, I had just gone through a terrible break-up, and the only thing I could say was, "I love you, too, you know that." And she was like, "No...like, I think I'm in love with you." And the only thing I could say after that was, "I'm...I'm really too high." And we both laughed, and about an hour later after we were normal again, we went outside to talk because we were at a party. We had a discussion, under the stars, and looking at the two of us that way, it was a romantic scene, but the words weren't.

Have you gone out with someone, then ruined the friendship you had before? Yes, but I also became even better friends with an ex after breaking up. We just realized that the both of us were better off as best friends. We did more stuff together, adventure wise, as friends, then we did as a couple, haha.

Can you trust any of your friends at full capacity? I don't really trust anyone 100%.

Is the word ‘love’ even in your vocabulary? Yes.

Who do you care about more: your significant other/current crush or your best friend? I love both my best friend, which is my brother, and my husband as fiercely as possible, just in different ways.

Have you written or drawn anything for somebody else? Yes.

Do you tend to hide your emotions from certain people? How do you hide them? Yeah. I stuff them down, like Santa down a chimney, haha. I've always been good at that.

Do you have any pictures of yourself with the person you like? Yes.

Do your friends know how to make you smile in tough times? Yeah.

[deleteddewewted]

Lady Muzan for the sweet and sour event. I want to do sour, obsessive love. Muzan fawns over a human and does the unthinkable to make them theirs.

Sour: Diseased

Yandere! Lady Muzan x Gn! Reader

❤️🖤Sweet And Sour Event (May 21 - June 26)(JJK, MHA, KNY Characters Only!)❤️🖤

❤️🖤Sweet And Sour Event Masterlist❤️🖤

MDNI

W: Heavy Manipulation Themes, Mildly Suggestive, Murder, Torture, Nonconsensual Demon Turning, Obsessed/Yandere! Muzan, Mutual Attraction, Dark Themes

If you'd like to support my work (Check my Ko-fi and Throne!)

Humanity was a matter that she cared nothing for. After all, spending centuries living un complete commodity and never needing to struggle for a single thing she wanted, Muzan grew complacent. She had lovers come and go, some of who she killed because she became hungry. None of them were worth anything to her since she had an abundance of suitors. She usually picked the ones that looked pretty and who would do enough to satiate her needs for the night but they would usually be disposed of in the end.

She searched for a new partner to help her pass the night, the Redlight district usually offered plentiful opportunities to find someone. Usually, she would walk around, her makeup flawlessly done that was complimented by a red lip, and see what person looked the most attractive out of a crowd that would form around her. Usually, the men would offer her a lot of money to spend the night with her, and some even offered to pay off her debt if it meant she became their wife. She ignored many of the offers, she was deeply offended that they thought she was a cheap whore so she made it clear that monetary incentive came at a high price. She charged higher than any Oiran ever cost but there were never any complaints, she was gorgeous, ethereal almost, and the pathetic men with only lust in their eyes never complained.

She planned on doing the same thing she usually did but tonight it was different. She caught a mysterious stranger’s eyes as she walked around the redlight district. They had something about them that attracted her, looks mostly, but she felt something foreign when their eyes met.

You made sure to present yourself the best way you knew that night. You had raised enough money to pay off your sister’s debt, the entire ordeal becoming more and more stressful as the years passed by, and no matter how much you begged the best stayed the same. It was a painful reality but you persevered through it all. You didn’t bother with looking around and certainly didn’t care at all about the beautiful women who walked around looking for their next client. You walked passed a dark-haired woman, eyes ruby red with a black kimono. You met her eyes and averted them once you were past her. She was beautiful but the feeling was fleeting. There was nothing significant there that made you want to stay and chat.

Rejection never felt good for anyone but for Muzan it was like someone slapped her across the face. A mortal, a human, ignoring her for whatever other task was insulting. She followed you with her eyes and watched you enter one of the houses. 

You bowed to the manager of the house and looked on the verge of tears as you waved your money around. The manager stanched your money and began to count as they spoke back to you. It was a pathetic sight, you were crying and snot was running down your face as you begged. Who knows what the reason was but she made her way towards you and the manager of the house and asked what the situation was.

“This one wants to pay for our Oirans debt but they haven’t brought enough.” The manager sneered. Muzan’s face darkened at the thought that an Oiran had bested her in capturing your attention.

“She’s my sister! I want her back! She deserves to be happy and live a peaceful life where she’s not being used and mistreated by any man who has enough money to pay to damage her!” More tears escaped you but this time someone’s hand had been placed on your shoulder.

”How much do they still owe?” Muzans grip tightened on your shoulder as the manager began to babble on about how she couldn’t possibly afford to pay off the debt owed. Muzan simply rolled her eyes and threw her purse at the manager who fumbled with it.

“That should be enough for the sister. Now-” She turned all of her attention onto you,” what do I have to do in order to get a moment with you?” An ever-widening grin became more sinister as she waited for your response.

Your sister and you lived in a large estate with servants who took care of the both of you. She found a husband who could give her everything she could ever want but instead of her leaving to love with him, he came and loved in the estate you both resided in. Muzan, the woman who had paid for your sister’s debt, had given you both a home to live in and feed you both properly. The clothes you both wore were expensive, none like you’ve ever owned before and ever thought of owning. 

“I can’t have any of you looking ragged. You’re mine now. You must look the part.” It was semi-aggressive but she was also very loving towards you. 

She had you sit down and proceed to crawl into your lap as she played with your hair. She would leave kisses all over your neck, her arms wrapped around you to take in your warmth. It was awkward in the beginning, you weren’t romantically involved with her and it was socially reprehensible that you both were both this physically close. Yet, it never bothered her. She continued it even in front of others. At times it made you feel like a criminal. You had a gorgeous woman enveloping herself in your clothes and in your being while other wealthy and socially respected men couldn’t.

“Why haven’t you seduced me into bed already. I’m starting to think you don’t like my company.” Muzan had been doing her makeup when she asked you. You felt too warm and stuffy sitting behind her and watching her. She was nude, naked as the day she was born, and all too tempting for you. Your face was warm and your ears heated as she turned to face.

“So you don’t like me.” You shook your head.

“N-no, it’s not that at all. I do find you attractive but I’m not of social standing. My family was poor and my sister was sold off to help pay off our debt but in return, she developed her own.” You struggled to ignore her breasts as she walked toward you and sat in front of you.

“I don’t feel like I am worthy of you. Of your affection or your body. You deserve to be with someone of higher standing, someone who could give you everything you want-” Muzan stopped before you could continue. Her hand smushed your cheeks together and prevented you from speaking.

“Ive done many things to show you I want you. I didn’t bring you to live with me just because.” She brought her face closer to your own, her breath a mixture of the sweets she indulged in and the alcohol she enjoyed drinking when in private with you.

“You’re mine.” Her lips met yours and for the first time since you’ve both met, you tasted blood. You choked as she pushed more of the vial flood into your mouth and gagged in an attempt to not swallow.

Your head grew hazy and your body began to burn as she kept you pressed against her. The kiss took your breath away but the emotions rushing through you were not pleasant. Fear and dread engulfed you as the woman you once looked at with admiration and care, dug her nails into your skin. The moment she let you go, your body fell forward and convulsed as she watched. Blood spewed out from your mouth as your awareness faded. Muzan held you as you laid dormant in her arms. Her body was warm and welcoming as you rest against her. 

“Ive done too much for you. Ive become soft, kind, and gentle with you.” Her eyes softened as your breathing steadied and your heartbeat settled.

“I can’t have anyone taking advantage of this. Ive done so many things to ensure that you’re mine.” She lowered herself and kissed your forehead with a silent plea that you would wake up soon.

She carried you to her bedroom and left you on her bed wrapped in her blankets. Her body felt the absence of your being, her nude body cold without you to keep her warm. She made her way to the cellar and was met with the pungent scent of decay. The bodies of those who had once courted her and those who defied her rotted away in the dark space. Muzan stepped over the limbs and ripped pieces of human until she reached the cell she was looking for. Inside laid the manager of the house that kept your sister, captive. Besides the manager, there was a strange man who Muzan later found out was the one who sold your sister and maintained your family in poverty by demanding high rent. She feeds off of them slowly, their screams becoming more satisfying as they beg her to stop. She did it because she noticed the stress it caused you, the horrible memories that talking about the past managed to do to you. You’d cry silently at night thinking that she isn’t able to hear you through the walls. The rage of knowing that you suffered at the hands of mortals upsets her more than she could have ever imagined.

She tore off both of their heads, the spine making a disgusting cracking and popping sound, while the flesh audibly ripped apart from where they were connected. The bodies slumped forward, the heads were thrown away to the side so they could rot away. Muzan’s only thoughts were to go back to the bed you lay in and embrace you the way she always wanted to. Hold you and adore you the same way you made her feel adored.

[kkusuka]

two poly jjk drabbles for the soul<3

sukuna and itadori<3

➪sukuna just can’t help making an appearance when yuji fucks you. it’s been years since he’s had pussy, and yours looks so nice. that’s not all though, sukuna may be an asshole but he didn’t lack awareness, his vessel feels something for you so in turn he doesn’t...hate you.

➪ but feelings have nothing to do with how you squeeze a cock, or how you look when you bounce around on his dick. but eventually sukuna has to get bored of watching, that’s when the four eyes began to open. the slits under yuji’s eyes widening, a better view than the brats closed ones.

➪ then came ever present mouth on his cheek, still having the decency not to touch you, yet. the praises of your moans, the crude names the demon would give you. “the dirty slut loves this, unstable whore can’t go a day without cock.” was about the worst it got.

➪ the mouths on his hands was where yuji tried to stop him, not going near you for a whole week, enduring sukuna’s mocking about running away until you convinced him it was ok as long as yuji was still in control— something sukuna took a bit to personal.

➪ so when you woke up to the tattooed face looking down at you, dick already bottomed out in your cunt, “yu-yuji!”

➪“not the brat, whore. he isn’t going to help you, he’s probably watching as we speak,” his word sent shreds of embarrassment through your veins as you relaxed in the curses arms, “it’s fine, if he wants to watch you get the fucking of your life, of course.”

••

get and gojo<3

➪ geto wasn’t blind, you were very beautiful, and it sucked that the white haired idiot got to you first. a fact he forced himself to remember when he sees you in your uniform.

➪ but was it truly his fault? gojo didn’t spare him details at any turn of your relationship, from detailed recounts of your dates to sending photos of you in all of your dresses. it was all to coincidental, gojo knew of the mans crush on his significant other, and he was seemingly playing into it.

➪ there was no way someone as smart as gojo leaves his phone unattended with a photo of you on your knees out in the open, it just wasn’t possible. in the same breath, he wouldn’t leave the door open for him to watch your pussy swallow gojo’s cock either.

➪ but now he was standing in his best friends doorway watching you fall apart as you ride the white haired boy. “are you just gonna keep watching? they’ve worked so hard to show you what they have and you just ignore it.”

➪ well he sure isn’t ignoring it when he shoved his cock down your throat, or when they both forced their way into your sopping hole. if you wanted the both of them, you should’ve just said so the first time.

[violettelueur]

— FUSHIGURO MEGUMI || TRANQUILITY SKETCH

↳ featuring : aged-up!fushiguro megumi from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : ooc for fushiguro megumi + mention of cheating (only brief) + suggestive language and grammar issues

↳ form : imagine

↳ published : 10 june

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.3k

↳ synopsis : (modern!AU) spending time with your significant other isn’t hard for couples when going on dates but with your tattoo boyfriend, spending time at home seems more appropriate especially when he wants to keep his art subject to himself.

↳ barista’s notes : it’s been a while since i posted something written related huh? but here is the second imagine to my tattoo artist AU! and this one isn’t to tattoo artisy related at all to be honest....ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ BUT i hope you enjoy the free cup of cappuccino everyone ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ 

“You know, are you sure you’re happy in your relationship with that tattoo artist? I never see you guys go out on a date nor him taking you out somewhere, I would feel so trapped or depressed if my boyfriend never went out the house with me”

That’s what a lot of people mention to you whenever you would answer to them that you were the happiest you can ever be when they asked how your relationship was with your boyfriend: Fushiguro Megumi. To be honest, their question always irritated you to a certain degree since it seemed like they never agreed with your response before you even answered in the first place, but you could understand why they would ask you that every time this topic would come up. Yet, even after five years of being courted to Fushiguro, it didn’t seem to satisfy your friends’ for them to continuously ask the same thing over and over again - leaving you no choice but you ignore them when they suggest taking you on some blind dates to replace your man causing you to drop them the second they introduce the idea.

However, some people came to know of your relationship from a clearer perspective like your best friends, Itadori Yuji and Kugisaki Nobara, along with Fushiguro’s boss named Gojo Satoru at his tattoo workshop, his sister Fushiguro Tsumiki and a few others. They knew Fushiguro wasn’t the type to take you out on dates all the time but rather reside at your shared apartment where you and he were the only ones present in his little world and you were more than okay with that. You were a home person and so was he, making home dates a regular occurrence rather than outdoor ones where you both would have movie nights, cooking together, stargaze on the balcony or turning off all the lights where you would wither in pleasure to the point where your voice would be gone the next day leading Fushiguro to call your boss, telling them you had gone down with a sudden cold.

Today was the same as you carefully wrapped a white towel around your body before tucking the corner inside to secure the piece of cloth that was covering your nudity away from peering eyes, especially the eyes from the man that was sitting on your shared queen-sized bed with his back turned to you.

Admiring the masterpiece in front of you, you couldn’t help but feel a light spark within the palm of your hand to the tips of your fingers that were urging forward to trace his tattoo design as your eyes began to shamelessly wonder the gorgeous art piece that was inked on Fushiguro’s back causing you to wonder if he noticed how you were gawking at him right now since he always seemed to have that sixth sense within him when he would turn around to catch you in your little daydream leaving you in a flustered mess as you tried to hide your tracks like you had committed a crime leading his lips to turn into a cocky smirk as he admired your embarrassed state.

Now that you think about it, when you started coming over to his place around the start of your relationship (before you both moved in together), Fushiguro would always seem to be putting on a jumper as quick as possible while opening the door causing you to be wary in the beginning that he was cheating due to how nervous he looked every time you arrived only for his place to be completely empty when you went to investigate with his two dogs trotting along behind you as if to inform you that there was nothing to worry about  - the navy blue jumper was becoming a common sight. Until a few months later into the relationship, he sat you down on his bed with your hands intertwined with his as he explained that he was a tattoo artist and he was worried that you would be frightened at the sight of his tattoos since they were still seen related to something criminal in Japan, only for your reaction to being light giggles before asking him if you could see them which lead to the same navy blue jumper falling on his bedroom floor with your fingers lightly tracing his painted muscles causing shivers to crawl up his back on how warm your touch was.

Snapping out of your little memory daze, you were surprised that your eyes didn’t meet with a pair of emerald ones like they usually would causing your right eyebrow to perk up in curiosity since Fushiguro would have turned around to face you by the time you broke out from your little trip to memory lane, yet you weren’t complaining as it seemed like his sixth sense that you grew to get flustered by, was now occupied with something that your boyfriend was extremely focused on leading you to suddenly crave for his warmth as you decided to test the waters on what you could do to not break that same concentration that he has masterfully maintained right now.

Steadily, you took a step forward before placing your knee upon the bed causing a slight dip on the mattress leading your eyes to swiftly peer up to check if you had distracted your boyfriend (when in reality it seemed like the two dogs were distracted as their head’s perked up from their bed’s and as quick they went up, their heads went back down again a second later) only for his posture to remain the same giving you the confidence to raise your other knee upon the mattress as you scooted closed before proceeding to slowly wrap your slightly wet arms around his neck as you then nuzzled your face upon the crook of his neck while letting out a comforted sigh that you finally got the comfort that you wanted.

“Hi there,” Fushiguro greeted you softly before turning his head slightly to capture the endearing sight of you adoring the warmth that he was providing you as the tattoo artist then gently placed a light kiss upon your temple before turning his head back to concrete on what he was previously doing. “Are you not going to get change? You might catch a cold,” Fushiguro asked, as the pencil balanced between his finger began to move again causing the graphite on the tip of his pencil to appear on the sketch paper while you shook your head side to side to indicate a ‘no’ to him causing an airy laugh to escape from his lips.

When Fushiguro first allowed himself to open up about being in a romantic relationship with you, he was extremely nervous and frightened at the fact of how you were going to react to his occupation as a tattoo artist since they have gotten a pretty bad reputation since the start causing people to distance themselves away from the tattoo artist leaving him to his own accord while being annoyed by his boss and friends about how he needed a social life and maybe find a love life somewhere in his little cold heart, yet whenever a female would come up to him, the same three telling him to get a love life would interrupt the conversation with something called ‘formation B’ - he is surprised to this day that you weren’t freaked out by this little ‘destroy Fushiguro’s chances of finding love’ operation.

“She’s the type that would really suit you, Megumi. You never know once you give it a try, she’s an amazing person and she works at the cafe, like a few streets down at the tattoo shop, maybe you’ll get some free coffee and treats as a bonus!” 

Now that he thought about it, Fushiguro first met you through his aunt: Zenin Maki, who was trying to make Mai get off your back since her twin sister was so persistent that you and her should date when in reality, Maki knew that she was trying to use you to get over her other failed relationship in a mission called: Let’s just pretend and make my ex jealous - Maki didn’t know what in the world her sister was trying to do and she didn’t want you in the mess, so she kind of pushed you to Fushiguro’s way out of desperation to keep you safe.

Since then, here he was with you by his side five years later with your arms around him with just a towel on, as he continued to sketch trying not to move so much, so his sketchbook could stay balanced on his knee leading you to slowly become curious on what he was drawing since the sound of his pencil gliding across the paper was extremely satisfying to the point where you knew the second you looked up, it was going to be a beautiful masterpiece of a tattoo that he was preparing for his client.

Come to think of it, when it came around to the second year of your relationship with the tattoo artist, you had never really stepped foot into his workplace since you would always come to his place or he would have come to yours at the end of the day, leading you to come to the consideration that there was no need for you go since you didn’t want to distract him from his work and you wanted him to be comfortable with you being there even if he has already come to your workplace from time to time. However, when you had received a delivery order with the address of the tattoo shop printed at the top, curiosity killed that cat and you knew that this was the only opportunity you had to take a peek of Fushiguro’s life that you wanted to uncover.

In the end, it was worth the 10-minute trip to see the shocked look on your boyfriend’s face when he saw you walk through the door as he quickly bee-lined towards you leading Gojo to tease him about how he felt offended that he never introduced him to you nor the fact that the ‘nice coffee girl from down the street was his girlfriend’ causing Fushiguro to look at the white-haired man with a hostile glare - since it seemed like his boss had forgotten the one time he almost ruined his chances of being with you with his ‘formation B’ technique - while the teasing man pretended to wipe a tear from the corner of his blue eyes before asking you if you added an extra sugar in the coffee as he proclaimed that he needed it to stimulate his brain - when in reality you learnt he was a sugar addict later on. Yet, you will never forget the sight you were gifted with when you saw Fushiguro wearing a black button with the long-armed sleeves rolled up with a pair of black jeans causing you to nearly combust at the sight causing you to quickly make your way back to the cafe before you publicly embarrassed yourself in front of his co-workers to which caused some of your co-workers to be confused on why you were fanning yourself with a menu with it was the winter season.

“What are you drawing?” you mumbled before tightening your hold on him causing Fushiguro to shiver once again as he felt the vibrations on his neck leading his cheeks to become a little more heated than they should be.

“Nothing really,” Fushiguro answered quietly as he quickly shifted his eyes to the side to check if you had lifted your head yet before swiftly shifting his eyes back to view his sketchbook, inspecting his drawing before crooking his eyebrow up in confusion while lining his pencil with the section he was trying to measure before focusing on the other side to check if it was the same.

“Babe, can you lift your head up for me?” your boyfriend asked leading you to gently move your head away from his neck, only to suddenly come into eye contact with a concentrated face as a pencil began to gently tap your face which caused your face to scrunch up in perplexity generating another airy laugh from Fushiguro before he returned to the book that was on his knee leading your eyes to travel down to where he was concentrating as well, only for your eyes to widen at the sight that you had now come to see.

“Are you drawing me?” you questioned in disbelief before resting your chin on his shoulder while continuing your admire the sketch that the tattoo artist had beautifully drawn as he began to add a few more strokes to lengthen the shape of your eyebrows before he moved the tip of his pencil to the corner of your lips.

From your point of view, the sketch was one of the most beautiful drawings you have ever seen from Fushiguro. Of course, you have seen his other drawings of tattoo designs that he has drafted for his customers as well as himself for Gojo to tattoo on for him from his workshop to your home together and you always complimented him on how captivating every single one of them was, only for him to proclaim that you were exaggerating and stuttering at the fact that you were the most captivating to him, to lead you to always have a mental picture in your mind on now adorable be looked with be looked at you with a blush painted on his face.

“Do you hate it?” Fushiguro suddenly queried as he shifted his eyes to your direction again causing you to quickly shake your head side to side with a little pout before the corners of your lips turned up to present Fushiguro with the soft smile, the same smile he loved and adored too much for his own good.

“You make me look more beautiful in drawing than I do in real life,” you commented making it your boyfriend’s turn to scrunch his face in confusion as he then turned his head slightly to peer at you, only to see you continued to stare at his work with a hint of sparkle within your eyes. 

Scoffing at your statement, Fushiguro lifted his pencil to tap it on your nose before using the same hand to lightly hit the top of your head with a fist leading you to look at him with a surprised expression, while he began to close his book with the pencil between the pages to mark where he had left off before placing it on the bedside table as he processed to turn his body to fully have a good look at you causing your arms that were around his neck before to now be placed upon his shoulder for support as he suddenly lifted you to place your body upon his lap leading you to straddle him.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Fushiguro commented as he slyly began to wrap his arms around your waist to pull you in further in leading the tattoo art to place his chin on your chest nearly making you place a hand over his face to conceal your flustered state from him since you were still surprised on how confident he has become ever since you both started dating as well as how the towel that was wrapped around you right now was still hanging onto you.

“You’re more beautiful than any drawing I’ve ever done,” Fushiguro confessed with a smile on his face causing you to turn your head to the side - a habit that you gained from him - leading Fushiguro to smile brightly at the sight before beginning to fiddle the bottom of the white towel to which processed you to rapidly turn your head back to look at him with your hand swiftly grabbing his to stop the movements that were causing the corner that was tucking into your towel to slowly lose its grip.

“I can’t miss another day of work, mister,” you mentioned with one of your eyebrows quirked up, only for Fushiguro to pout at you as if he was trying to convince you that you could miss another day of work this week, just to keep you in arm’s length and away from the customers that write their number on their napkins before asking your co-workers to pass it to you.

“You can...I get to sketch more drawings of you, I get to cuddle with you more, I get to have some peace and quiet with you, I get to stay home with you...naked,” Fushiguro cheekily commented as one of his hands began to sneakily crawl up to gently grip the back of your neck with the other cunningly on your butt, causing you to giggle at his comment before jokingly slapping his cheek with a light impact as a way to warn him not to go further with his little persuasive argument leading your boyfriend to snuggle his face into your chest as he began to savour the warmth that he had to appreciate for now since he always knew that he should listen to you to not sleep on the couch tonight - he learned this from Gojo when asking for relationship advice, a day after asking you out.

“We can do that another time, but not now,” you answered with a shy smile as you began to play with the locks of his erratic hair leading the tattoo artist to sigh in comfort as your other hand decided to trace the wings of the Nue tattoo that he had on his back to which caused Fushiguro’s lips to turn up into another smile as he began to place little pecks on any surface of skin that he could find, making you pull back slightly (much to Fushiguro’s disappointment) before placing a hand over his lips as you leaned forward to kiss the back of it, only for a smirk to appear on your face once you retreated back.

“Don’t tempt me, pretty boy,” you said with a hint of mischievousness causing your boyfriend to pout once again before dramatically flopping onto the mattress with his arms covering his face causing the dog’s heads to perk up in interest before moving from their sleeping spot to the side of each bed to wait for you or Fushiguro to allow them to jump up.

“I’m not tempting you, I’m just persuading you to stay home with me tomorrow since it’s my off-day and I want to keep my little art subject to myself,” Fushiguro mentioned as he placed his hands on each side of your waist again causing you to laugh at the sight of the stoic boyfriend you had come to know to have a softer side when he was only with you in your confined space here at home rather than outside where the world could see your relationship.

“Maybe next week aye? You get to sketch me then,” you suggested before leaning down to place your upper body against his chest causing the towel to become loose leaving nothing to the imagination as Fushiguro tried to hold off the temptation to rip the same towel away from your body.

“Promise me, I get to keep you home here with me, next week,” Fushiguro commented as his hands began to ghostly ran up and down along your spine causing you to shiver lightly before nodding your head against his chest to seal the deal of the home date he had randomly made on the spot.

“I promise,” you answered with confidence, excited for how he was going to keep you locked up with him for a tranquil home date that he seemed to desperately desire since it seemed like he wanted to draw you constantly.

Maybe it was something else rather than just a little sketch...

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[hongism]

the little things - c.san

↣ pairing: san x reader; poly ot8 x reader ↣ genre: sfw, fluff, slight angst, fantasy au, witch ateez au ↣ wc: 3.3k ↣ summary: one of your favorite things to do is look at the stars with san ↣ warnings: none !

“You’re out rather early.”

You don’t turn towards the source of the voice; just hearing him speak is enough of a clue for you to know exactly who it is. Although, even if he hadn’t spoken, you’re sure you would have known from the flutter of wings that resounded before his arrival.

“The stars are prettiest right before dawn breaks,” you sigh, hugging your arms a bit tighter around your knees. Your new companion moves forward and comes to a stop beside you. He doesn’t sit down quite yet; for a while, he merely stands at your side and stares up at the same sky hanging above your heads. The time is roughly four o’clock in the morning — a late night for you and an early morning for San — but your words hold true. The glimmering stars are tucked behind fluffy and luscious clouds that seem to herald coming rain, and they shine against a midnight blue background that seems infinitely deep.

San sinks down to sit beside you at last, tossing his legs over the lip of the stone wall you’re perched on, and he sways his legs in rhythm with an unknown melody. You squeeze your knees as you press your cheek to one of them, enough to have a clear view of San’s pretty side profile against a landscape of green pine trees and shining stars.

“I thought you were out here to look at the stars,” San whispers. He glances at you out the corner of his eye. There’s no malice in his speech, just a hint of teasing, and you can’t keep your lips from quirking into a smile.

“I’m looking at you instead.”

“I should be the one looking at you, little star.” San turns his chin to face you, and his dimples flash as he grins back through the hazy moonlit night. “Our precious star,” he murmurs before reaching a hand out to trace over your forehead, slipping down to your temple then to your cheek and dragging the pads of his fingers over your skin in an unknown pattern.

“Why are you up so early?”

“Waiting for Hongjoong,” San says through a sigh. His hand retracts as quickly as it made contact, and you can’t pretend to be oblivious as to why. Things are always… harsh for San when Hongjoong is gone. It’s much worse when it’s a job like Hongjoong’s current one where the witch has to be gone for weeks at a time. Then San becomes quite volatile and hard to deal with — it only makes sense when a familiar is separate from his master for so long. Seonghwa tries to do damage control every time, tries to use techniques that normally help his own familiar Yeosang calm down, but they never work for San. Hongjoong is the only person and thing that can quell the anxieties and worries and stress that flow through San’s veins in times like these. And seeing as they are a bonded pair, it makes the connection of sharing emotional states weaker. They can’t share emotions this far apart, and that weighs heavily on San’s shoulders after being so used to sharing his heart in such a way for so long. Even if Hongjoong has a tendency to cut San off from feeling the brunt of his negative emotions, there’s still a lingering knowledge that the other is right there, just within grasp.

Not now, however.

San has gone three long weeks without even a breath of a whisper from Hongjoong.

And tonight (this morning? Today? Whatever time it may be) the witch is supposed to return. San’s nerves must be getting to him if he’s out this early because usually he would curl up in Hongjoong’s bed and await the witch there, presenting himself like a neatly wrapped present for the other to unravel with warm kisses and soft touches.

San clenches his fingers blindly around the lip of the wall.

“Tell me a story?” You inquire out of the blue. Your eyes shift to look up at the sky again. San huffs out a weak laugh.

“What kind?”

“Hm, how you and Hongjoong met?”

A risky choice, maybe, but you know how near and dear that tale is to San’s heart, and how much comfort it brings him in simply thinking of it. So it is also a very wise choice on your behalf. San’s lips twitch into the shadow of a smile.

“You’ve heard it so many times already…”

“I’ll give you something in return,” you coo, reaching out to pinch the skin around San’s elbow. He yelps like a kicked dog and offers up a deep pout that has you ready to tease him further.

“Seven kisses.”

“Seven?” You echo. Confusion slips into your tone. You can’t recall any significance to the number seven, nor can you remember whether it’s supposed to have special meaning.

“One for each time I’ve told you this story,” San murmurs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to the tip of your nose. You scowl at the faint sensation as a laugh nearly escapes you, but you manage to bite it back enough to smile again.

“I always forgot how good a crow’s memory is.”

“Ravens remember well too, little star.”

You poke your tongue out between your lips in his direction, and San merely laughs at your expression before shifting closer to you. He loops a hand around one of yours, pulling it away from the leg you have propped up on the rock wall, then he loops his fingers through yours.

“Several hundred winters ago, this land we live in now held very different values and laws. The people were cruel and brash, only using their fists and crude weapons to handle gathering food and protecting their women and children. No one imagined there was any other way of doing things — the people knew nothing of what gentle prowess magic could offer.” San glances over at you, drawing a laugh from your lips when he makes eye contact with you. You shake your head ever so slightly.

“I didn’t mean for you to give me the version that’s in books and legends…”

San dares to giggle at that, and a moment later, he’s shifting his position so that he can rest his head against your thigh and look up at the stars like that. You have to push your other leg down to accommodate the shift, and once San is comfortably staring up at the sky with you, he begins speaking again.

“I was alone. It wasn’t something new; I was used to it at that point. Ravens don’t have the longest lifespan, and I was still a young familiar at the time. I had no owner or master. My mother’s master left our nest after she passed, leaving me with two sisters who were sick and close to death. They were too ill to shift to their human forms, so I couldn’t bring them to an apothecary or village. Ravens are seen as bad omens after all; had I brought them to a town, they would have been killed on the spot. I spent some time going between our nest and the nearest village, stealing food and medicine where I could because I couldn’t afford it. I worked some too, little odd jobs here and there, but it was a lot of delivery work. Made it easy to steal thankfully. Then… well, one day, I got too bold and tried pickpocketing a high-ranking guardsman. He was some lieutenant or something like that, I don’t remember. Too many years have passed since then. But I got caught trying to lift some coin off him in a bar, and he grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out to the streets. He was planning on killing me right then and there with no trial, but some short little witch came stalking up without a care in the world and knocked the guard on his ass. He was going on and on about how rude it is to grab random people off the street like that.”

“Of course he would,” you murmur, a bit of fondness slipping into your tone. “Don’t let him catch you calling him short though.”

“Eh, he’ll survive. In any case, when the guard tried explaining that I was trying to pickpocket him, this witch extended a hand to me and asked if I needed help. I naturally said no because I didn’t think I could trust him, then took off running. I went back to my nest in the hopes of finding my sisters and telling them to get out of the area, yet when I got there, they were already gone. It had been nearly two years since my mother passed, so they were well enough to do things on their own at that point, but they’d never up and left like that without warning. I couldn’t do anything but stay and wait for their return. We’d gathered some food and supplies, so I was able to live off of it for several months before needing to depart for more again. The entire time, not once did my sisters return. They just… disappeared into thin air. I waited every day, wondered when they would come back, and some nights I would stay awake all night flying around the area in search of them.”

“That part always breaks my heart,” you whisper. Stretching a hand down, you drag your fingers along the curve of San’s cheekbones then his jaws, torn away from the stars as you look at the familiar.

“Why? Had it not happened, I wouldn’t be here.”

“I know but…”

“But Hongjoong found me,” San continues through a smile. You huff but let him finish the story, pointedly ignoring the curling grin he sends your way. “After a few months, I started noticing magical residue near my nest. And sure enough, that little witch from before was setting up camp nearby. I did nothing at first, watched him from afar for a while, then I got brave enough to try to lift a few things from his camp. That turned out to be quite the mistake because he caught me within three seconds of setting foot into that camp. And yet… instead of threatening to kill me or harming me, the little witch simply asked if I was alone. ”Are you alone? Do you have anyone with you? A master? I feel your magical energy yet it doesn’t seem normal. You must be a familiar. Where is your master?“ When I said I had no master and was on my own, the little witch was… hm, I would say he was both confused and concerned. Said it was no good for a familiar to go without a master. Without one, I would die within a few years. He suggested that I hurry along with finding one, and I explained I had absolutely no one else in my life.”

“And after that?”

San hums to himself a bit, bringing his hands up above his head as he stares at the night sky. A delicate little smile graces his pretty lips and squeezes his dimples out, but he doesn’t speak any other words for quite some time. The next voice you hear doesn’t even belong to him.

“After that, I invited San to spend some time in my care and work an honest job for me before going on his way to finding a master.”

Hongjoong.

You twist your neck towards the source of the voice, finding the witch standing a little ways away from the wall you and San are currently seated on, and he grins through the moonlit night at you. San jolts upwards at the sound of his master. The smile that splits his lips is so broad and heartwarming that it feels too intimate to look at, even for you who shares in their love for one another. It’s different for them, and you know that, even if it’s just a different strain of the same love, it’s different nonetheless. San hops off the wall in one swift move, closing the distance between his and Hongjoong’s bodies within seconds.

“As it turns out, we were…we did quite well together. And thus, here we are,” Hongjoong says as he lets San press his nose into the curve of his neck. “I’m sorry I was gone so long. Had to make a few extra stops along the way to gather some supplies. How was he?” Hongjoong directs the words to you, watching with careful yet loving eyes as you pull yourself down from the wall as well and step closer to him and San. The familiar will be like this for a while; unmoving and unresponsive as he soaks in Hongjoong’s presence again and drowns himself in the sensation of having all those feelings doubled once more. Hongjoong will try to ease the burden as much as he can for both their sake, and you’ll do what you do best: taking care of both of them when it gets to be too overwhelming. While Seonghwa and Yeosang (who don’t go a long time without each other anyway) don’t have to deal with this type of ordeal, Hongjoong and San always do. Hongjoong thinks it has something to do with how frequent his trips are, or perhaps the lingering sensation of separation anxiety that San suffers from given his past. Either way, it makes their reunions that much more emotionally taxing and intense. Even you, who has not a drop of magical ability in your body, can feel the sheer power radiating off them both right in this moment.

“You came home at the right time. He was getting antsy,” you murmur back, reaching up to comb your fingers through the long hair at the base of San’s scalp.

“Next time I’ll leave you all with a bit more of a safety net.”

“Or you could come back sooner.”

Hongjoong nearly rolls his eyes, and you catch the way he stops himself just beforehand. The annoyance in his features is nothing serious, only something because he’s heard such words a hundred times over.

“No doubt you haven’t slept yet?” He inquires, trying his best to make his way to the door of the coven’s home. San proves to be quite the obstruction, as it seems, and Hongjoong has to hoist the slightly larger man up enough to loop his legs around the smaller’s waist. Hongjoong grunts from the added weight but manages to carry San the rest of the way with no other complaints. You trail along beside them, taking care of opening the door and grabbing Hongjoong’s satchel once inside.

“Welcome home, my sweet starlight. I see our star and bird found you before I could.” Seonghwa is the first to greet the three of you upon stepping inside. You only notice Yeosang’s sleek black cat form slinking around the hearth witch’s ankles when you’re helping Hongjoong out of his shoes.

“Mm, they were waiting outside,” Hongjoong mumbles into the chaste kiss Seonghwa delivers to his lips. Seonghwa also places a sweet kiss on the back of San’s head before Hongjoong steps around the taller man, continuing to carry San as he goes.

“Mingi fell asleep in your bed last night, so don’t be surprised if you find him there,” Seonghwa calls out over his shoulder. You stretch up to your tiptoes in front of him, half-expecting the kiss that he presses to your lips a few seconds later, but the sudden appearance of Yeosang’s human form popping up on your left is much less expected. You nearly jump out of your skin, and probably would have if not for Seonghwa placing a steadying hand on your hip.

“You haven’t slept either,” Yeosang comments, nose pushing hard against your cheek. You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“No need to lecture. I’m going up with them, don’t worry.”

“I’ll come by after Jongho heads out for morning work.” Yeosang smiles a little before turning on his heel and heading back into the kitchen, no doubt where Jongho waits. Seonghwa huffs out a laugh but sends you on your way without any more conversation. You catch him slipping back into the kitchen as well just as you start climbing the stairs behind Hongjoong.

“Did San fall asleep already?” You ask after the man. You can barely see the familiar’s face from how hard he has it pressed into Hongjoong’s neck, but his eyes seem to have fallen shut at some point. He’s either basking in Hongjoong’s presence as much as he can or he’s entered a pleasant state of unconsciousness with Hongjoong’s warmth around him.

“Almost. He’s calming down some though. I’ll put him in bed with Mingi then take a bath. Care to join?”

“Such a temptress,” you snort to his back.

“I’m only joking, my dear. Keep San and Mingi company while I’m washing up for me instead? We can bathe together another day.”

“Of course darling,” you murmur, drawing a hand across his shoulders once the two of you reach his door. “Be quick though. Mingi will want some time to cuddle before he joins Jongho for yard work.”

As Seonghwa warned, Mingi is already curled up into a tight ball in the center of Hongjoong’s bed when you enter the room. It’s not hard to move his lanky limbs to the side to make room for San, and when Hongjoong eases the familiar down to the mattress, Mingi immediately takes to curling his body around the smaller man like it’s an act of pure instinct. San nuzzles into the touch, releasing a content little hum. You feel a hand brush the small of your back and jerk to look Hongjoong in the eye. Turns out, it was only a way to distract you because he captures your lips in a quick kiss that tastes a bit of honey and cinnamon. You have no time to savor the taste, however; Hongjoong pulls away just as quick and mumbles something about being quick to clean up. You bring a hand up to touch the spot where his lips just were. The smile that overtakes your face is one you can’t hold back, and now it’s your turn to be content and happy as you pull the sheets back to join Mingi and San under the covers. A large hand clamps down hard on your waist, tugging you flush against San’s chest.

“Where’s my kiss?” Mingi’s voice rises through the silence, thick and groggy from sleep. You reach around San to smack him as gently as possible on the arm.

“Go back to bed.”

“Joong home yet?”

“Mhm, he’ll be in bed in just a bit.”

“Good,” Mingi sighs. He settles back into the mattress, maintaining his hold on you around San’s body, and you twist just enough to lean over the sleeping familiar.

“Kiss,” you murmur, and Mingi rushes to meet you halfway with a cheeky grin. “Okay, now sleep. You don’t have long before you have to be up.”

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep wrapped up in that embrace, and even when Hongjoong does finally come to bed, he doesn’t stir you from sleep except for the barest sensation of lips against your forehead. You might hear him mutter some loving words to all three of you, perhaps lingering a little while longer on San because he knows the familiar needs that reassurance and comfort right now more than ever, but once he settles down and tucks your head against his chest, a wildly comfortable and deep sleep overcomes you.

[rocorambles]

Ignorance is Bliss

Pairing: Kageyama x reader, One-sided Atsumu x reader 

Genre/Warnings: Yandere Kageyama, NSFW, Toxic Relationship, Misogynistic Behavior and Thoughts, Mind Break, Implied Manipulation

Summary: Atsumu learns the hard way how true the saying ‘ignorance is bliss’ is and he wonders how much simpler life would have been if he had never gotten involved with you. 

From what Atsumu knows of Kageyama Tobio from their high school tournament interactions, from what his cheerful orange-haired teammate tells him, and from their encounters in the professional circuit, he thinks he has a pretty clear picture of who the blue eyed setter is. So imagine his surprise when he meets you at a hangout Hinata has organized. 

You’re not the only female at the event, with many other attendees choosing to bring their significant others, and Atsumu has a blast trying to pair up all the unfamiliar faces with past and present opponents and teammates based on appearances and personalities alone. He’s on a roll, but pauses when he gets to you. 

There’s a wide grin spread across your face, your eyes excitedly shining as you vigorously nod at something Hinata is saying before you erupt into a boisterous, stomach busting laughter that echoes throughout the entire room. You’re wild, cheerful, fun, and if he didn’t know Bokuto was single, he’d automatically assume the two of you might be a couple with your similar radiant and untamed personalities. 

Maybe Tanaka, the baldy from Karasuno? No, he’s married to that pretty manager he was always obsessed with since highschool. 

Kuroo? The messy haired businessman seems like someone who wouldn’t mind a wild lover, but it seems unlikely from the way the cat-like man hasn’t even looked your way once the entire time. 

Before he can think of another guess, he freezes at the sight of Kageyama walking to your side, intimately pressed against you as he moves some food from his plate to yours, a slight upward twitch of his lips and an unfamiliar softness in his eyes as he gazes at you. 

No freaking way. 

When Atsumu thinks of the type of woman Kageyama would date, he thinks of sweet, well-mannered girls, caring and nurturing motherly types who would be patient enough to deal with the admittedly emotionally and socially challenged athlete and take of their idiotic, but well-meaning boyfriend. 

He doesn’t think of women like you. A woman loud enough to rival both Bokuto and Hinata. A woman as warm as the sun. A woman who can so easily ignore the stubborn setter’s barked commands for Hinata and her to quiet down and behave properly. 

Atsumu doesn’t miss the scowl, the hint of disappointment in blue eyes when you ignore the dark-haired setter. 

Looks like even though Kageyama’s “King of the Court” title hasn’t been used or brought up in years, some things never change. And Atsumu wonders how long the two of you will stay together before Kageyama’s need to be in complete control and authority destroys everything between the two of you. 

Not long, he thinks, as he weasels his way into the conversation, intent on getting to know you better so that when you come crashing down from Kageyama’s tyrannical rule, he can be the one to catch you and show you a life, a relationship where you can truly be loved and appreciated for exactly who you are, a kindred wild spirit like himself. 

Atsumu doesn’t see you much after that since both the Adlers and Jackals are incredibly busy with pro season, practicing, and traveling, but the two of you text back and forth constantly, hitting it off right away just as Atsumu knew you would. He’s quick to lunge for his phone with every ping, eyes constantly checking for new messages, chortling and smiling like a giddy fool in love with every text you send his way. 

The conversations start off amazingly, no usual awkward small talk or niceties usually associated with getting to know someone, and Atsumu feels like he can truly be himself, unfiltered as he rants to you about something stupid Osamu did that annoyed him, sends a dumb inappropriate joke your way, shyly tells you about his hopes and dreams. And his heart soars as you match his sincerity and openness, revealing more and more of who you are to him, making it harder and harder for him not to fall in love with you. 

But as time goes on, he swears you’re changing, and he’s not sure if it’s for the better. 

When you see him at events, practice games, and real matches, your ear-splitting grin turns into tiny demure smiles, your bone-crushing bear hugs you greet him with become polite bows, your rowdy laughter that could rival Kuroo’s hyena howls become soft giggles hidden behind a hand you raise to cover your mouth. 

Even your messages are changing and he glares at the properly punctuated and grammatically correct sentences you send him now, his crass jokes responded to with a boring and safe “haha” or completely ignored. 

You’re different now and Atsumu hates it. 

He hates the way Kageyama seems to proudly beam at your politer mannerisms. He hates what a perfect polished couple the two of you make. But mostly, he hates how he can feel you slipping further and further away from him. 

It’s not a surprise when he receives the expensive, high-quality letter in the mail, but it doesn’t mean it hurts any less as the blond setter stares down at the beautiful winding cursive scrawled across the card in front of him, grimacing at the picture perfect engagement photos Kageyama and you had taken together and chosen to incorporate in the wedding invitation. 

The selfish child inside of him has half a mind to toss it all into the garbage, forget about it, forget about you. But then he remembers that fateful day and he knows he owes it to that raucous laughter and toothy grin he memorializes and reminisces on to suck it up and celebrate your big day, usher in the next chapter of your life while you end the portion of your story with him. 

The wedding venue is disgustingly cookie cutter perfect and Atsumu internally retches at how boring and normal everything is, so unlike the woman who had intrigued him and who he thought he knew.  

What happened to your dreams of eloping in a jaw dropping national park? 

What happened to your disdain towards getting married in a church by a pastor? 

He grimaces as he stiffly stalks down the aisle and plops down in a pew, waiting for the ceremony to start, waiting for this whole thing to be over, waiting to go home and forget any of this ever happened. 

It’s easy to zone out as the background music plays, as the speaker drones on and on, and he only looks on in mild interest as the groomsmen and bridesmaids make their way down the aisle, some familiar faces walking past him. But nonchalance turns to something nauseating, something terrifying within Atsumu when he stands up with the rest of the guests as you make your way down the red carpet. 

Is that really you? 

Logically he knows it must be you, facial features, body, and every other physical attribute matching exactly what he remembers of you. But your eyes…

Had they always been so empty? 

No. He knows they hadn’t and he briefly closes his eyes, remembering how vibrant, how fiery those two orbs used to be, feeling sick to his stomach when he opens his eyes and truly looks at you, looks at how vacant and lifeless your eyes are, looks at how perfectly trained and almost robotic your prim and proper steps are. 

It’s like you’re nothing more than a living and breathing doll and a sinking suspicion begins to build in his gut as he scrutinizes the black-haired setter carefully watching you as you make your way towards him. And Atsumu thinks he might throw up when he can’t help but notice how similar the look Kageyama is giving you is to the look Kita had given his German Shepherd when the dog had obediently performed a trick for his master.  

He knows it might be a crapshoot, knows it might be too late now that the ring around your fourth finger chains you to the blue-eyed setter, but regret and guilt for not noticing earlier and love for the woman he remembers drives him and he continuously messages you in earnest long after the wedding. He talks to you like nothing’s changed, hoping one of his awful jokes will elicit some type of reaction from you, praying that the photo he snaps of your favorite onigiri from Osamu’s restaurant sparks something in you, ignoring the painful sting he feels at your politely austere responses, not letting your emotionless replies deter him. 

But it’s no good and he can’t help how off his game he is when they play a practice match against the Adlers, can’t help the way his temper is even shorter than normal, can’t help how he lets his emotions inhibit his skills every time he sees Kageyama across the net. And when he’s finally benched and told to cool his head, all he can think of is what awful things had Kageyama done to break you down so thoroughly, slumping down in his seat with a towel over his head, mind spinning with its wild imagination. 

He’s so lost in his head that he doesn’t notice the sound of a whistle marking the end of the match, doesn’t notice the slight commotion as the two teams bow to each other, doesn’t notice the figure making its way towards him. But he does notice the way another pair of shoes enters his field of vision and he lifts his head, body instantly tensing as blue eyes regard him. 

“Come over for dinner tonight. She misses you.” 

You missed him? 

Hope blossoms in Atsumu’s chest and his heart is racing as he rings your doorbell, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. But he droops a bit at the impersonal cheery greeting you welcome him with as you beckon him in, graciously taking the flowers from him without even a second glance or spark in your eyes when you see the assortment he had painstakingly chosen, treating him like he’s just any visitor and not a close friend who you haven’t seen for months.

And suddenly Atsumu wonders if he really should have come, feeling lightheaded and disoriented as he watches you flutter around the kitchen, a pretty pink pristine apron wrapped around you as you hum to yourself as you slave over the stove, urging the two men to catch up while you cook dinner. 

It all feels surreal, like a dream. Bad or good? He can’t decide. It’s jarring to see the woman who always insisted on ordering in greasy junk food, who did everything in her power to never step foot in the kitchen, who always went on and on about equal rights for men and women, become a perfect stay at home housewife, tending to the needs of her husband before hers, serving Kageyama and him so obediently, so submissively. And yet, there’s something oddly...enticing about the whole scene playing out in front of him as twisted as he knows it sounds and he feels disgust at himself when bitter pangs of jealousy strike him. 

How can he be jealous of Kageyama? How can he even entertain the idea of being okay with this role you’ve been forced into? How can he be jealous when deep down he knows something’s not right? Knows that you would never have easily or willingly let yourself be molded into something so against everything you believed or thought? Knows that your spirit and mind have been thrashed and tweaked so much that you’re completely broken and mindless, a docile little puppet for Kageyama to completely control? 

But he can’t deny the longing and awe he feels as you gracefully set the table, ladling plates with piping hot delicious food, charmingly smiling as both men compliment the meal, fawning and hovering over them as you make sure their cups and plates are always filled, shooing them over to the comfy living room as you prepare dessert and coffee for them and wash the dishes. 

Atsumu’s throat goes dry when you literally kneel in front of both of them as you place the tray laden with mouth watering pastries you had just baked, coffee, milk, and sugar in front of both of them, eyes unable to look away from the way your neck naturally arches downwards in submission. And he almost whines when you stand up from your humble position on the floor. 

But he’s jolted back to his senses at the brisk command Kageyama directs at you, disbelief and fury grounding him when you don’t hesitate to obediently kiss your husband good night and retire to your room as ordered after wishing Atsumu a pleasant evening

The door to your bedroom has barely closed before he’s lunging at Kageyama, fists bunched up in the front of his shirt. 

“What the fuck did you to her?! She’s a grown woman. You can’t just order her around like a slave-”

He’s cut off as he’s abruptly shoved away and there’s a tense silence in the air as Kageyama scoffs and straightens out his shirt. 

“She isn’t just any woman. She is my wife. All I did was bring out her true potential, which is why you are going to stop talking to her. I didn’t put all this work and effort into perfecting her for you to come and ruin all her progress. She isn’t the same woman you knew, Miya. She’s a married woman now. A woman married to me. So do us all a favor and forget about her.” 

Panic builds in a frenzy inside the blonde setter’s chest. No no no. He can’t just give up so easily. He needs proof. He needs to help you. 

“There’s no way she willingly just changed. What the fuck did you do?” 

Bone chilling tension once again floods the room and Atsumu nervously shudders at the cruel smirk that spreads across Kageyama’s face. 

“Does it matter? The results are all that matters. Isn’t that what you used to say when Kita-san used to talk about process? Plus, it didn’t seem like you minded all that much when my ‘slave’ was kneeling in front of you.”

Bile rises in Atsumu’s throat and he can’t think, can’t breathe as he’s forcefully shoved out the front door, unable to deny the harsh truth of Kageyama’s words, unable to stop imagining the horrors you must have gone through. The rest of the night is a blur as he somehow makes it back home, shaky hands washing his face, brushing his teeth, body shivering and trembling from something other than the cold as he curls up under his covers. 

But safe in his own environment, his own home, his own bed, his mind wanders and he thinks back on the night. He thinks about how perfectly the back tie of your frilly apron accentuated the curve of your waist, hips, ass. He thinks about how nice it felt to be taken care of, to have everything being done for him as he sat back and relaxed. And his hand slips underneath his briefs as he thinks about how utterly angelic you looked on your knees in front of him, head and eyes demurely turned down, as he wonders if Kageyama has you trained just as well in the bedroom. 

If he had simply asked, would you have crawled between his thighs? 

He groans as his hand wraps around his cock, thumb playing with his tip as he imagines your tongue swirling around his head, spreading his pre-cum and your saliva everywhere as you greedily taste and lap at his length. And as he begins to stroke himself, he imagines it’s your throat taking him all the way in, he imagines your doey eyes peering up at him from underneath fluttering lashes, seeking approval, making sure you’re pleasuring your lover, your husband. 

God, it’s so easy to imagine replacing Kageyama, imagine being your husband, imagine having you as his perfect slutwife and his back arches, eyes seeing only white and stars, body pulsating with pleasure as he cums harder than he’s ever had before at the thought of using your body as he pleases every night, at the thought of you eagerly serving him day in and day out, at the thought of fucking you raw, breeding you, impregnating you with his seed, letting everyone know exactly who you belong to with your swollen pregnant stomach and leaking tits as your bear his children. 

But he chokes out a sob as thick white spurts splatter across his hand, a few teardrops leaking from the corner of his eyes as he buries his face in his pillow, self-loathing and disgust curling inside of him at his traitorous thoughts, a silent plea for forgiveness and a desperate prayer for you to at least be at peace echoing in his head as he cries himself to sleep.

[chrstbll]

miracles and lucky days| ben hargreeves

(gif not mine) 

+tags: @lalisbitch @spaceclone-mom , @meowmeowrex23 @strangeyouthcrusade

plot: after coming back from the 60’s, instead of finding the sparrow academy, the group come face to face with a much more positive outcome of their actions.

                                                           -

The words of Klaus were diluted, inaudible and ringing loudly in your head. Your limbs could barely hold the weight of your body, and the nausea from jumping between timelines hitting your stomach didn’t quite put you at ease. All was blurry at first, not hearing nor seeing properly caused you to feel light-headed as well, but before your legs or your mind gave in, somebody strong arms held you up protectively.

- Are you good? – Diego’s gentle call for you brought you back to reality. He was always a little bit concerned about you. He didn’t show it in great actions, it was in the seemingly unimportant things he did for you. There wasn’t anything romantic involved between you two, instead of that it was a deep understanding of each another that made you appreciate the other significantly. You nodded to confirm that you were in fact all right, shrugging it off with a smile.

Klaus was right. After you successfully registered what he was saying, a wave of relief washed over your heart, mind, and soul. Your whole being. For once, all seven of you managed to successfully jump back to 2019 without any harm or mistake being done. It was quite unbelievable. A dreamlike scenario which proved itself to be nearly impossible to believe. Looking around the hall, everything seemed to be all right. It felt okay. The aura was intimately comforting, yet something was amiss. Different. Changed. It certainly was not a malicious ambiance that you discovered, but one new, something yet unexperienced thing. The others noticed it too, as all six of them were looking around suspiciously. Memories, feelings, and people rapidly invaded your mind, those you haven’t thought about a lot. Pogo? Grace? Are they okay now?

Luther suggested to enter the living room ahead of you, so that’s what you all mutually agreed to. Five was the one who went further on before you heroically and begged all of you to proceed with caution, because we don’t know what’s waiting for us there. The walk from the hall to the living room happened painfully slowly given that the feeling of uncertainty was sitting in one and all’s eyes and was at fault for your lack of speed. Upon realizing the academy was unnervingly noiseless, the anxiety birthed a huge lump in your throat, which you couldn’t swallow. Your heart was terrified from the possible negative outcome of this time jump. What if that moment of clarity and amenity was only a façade and was only felt because none of you faced reality in the short but drunk moment of arrival? Sometimes you thought about how nice it would be to just live without worry. To live in pure bliss, without a care in the world. Without a problem in the universe to solve. How astonishing it would be not to recall what loss, trauma, or sadness feels like. But then again, we would live in ignorance that way.

Turning towards the divans and sculptures in the living room, your attention automatically focused on the small moving figure, who was absentmindedly cleaning the shelves with dusting feathers. Recognition hit you like a truck, as the character of an ape appeared before you. Your breath hitched in your throat. Mercifully, it was a positive reaction, a sentiment you haven’t undergone in a long time.

- Pogo?! – Allison was the first one to call out their siblings’ friends’ name. Barely letting his name roll from her tongue, the sea of emotions instantly overthrew her, and tears stormed down her face. Their beloved guardian turned around in shock, he looked so puzzled, it was as he didn’t recognize the people in front of him. You feared that was the case. What if we screwed it up even more?

- Oh, children. I was waiting for you all to return – he’s spoken politely and gifted us with a kind smile, just like he always did. You almost forgot what a courteous and caring figure Pogo was. His scarce although deep voice reminded you of simpler times. A type of nostalgia which you subconsciously yearned for god knows how long. Everyone gathered around him in a matter of seconds, engulfing him in a suffocating hug. Pogo was still bewildered from the sudden act of affection, as you all were from seeing him alive and breathing, but in this instant of happiness, the questions why and how didn’t matter. What mattered was the present minute, what you currently knew as is.

And next, a voice broke the silence.

Who would dare to turn around first? Who wanted to confirm that the voice that was just heard from behind them, came from a legit source? On a serious note, was it even real? Your minds are only playing tricks on you. You were ecstatic for having Pogo back, but it would be too good to be true to turn around and see the possessor of the voice. We can’t have all the wonderful things. It never went that well for you. Your bodies turned stiff, and your feet were frozen on spot. But what made you fear to turn around? The horror of hearing something that’s not truly there or facing it bravely. Something…someone you haven’t faced in roughly two decades.

- What the hell took you guys so long? – the annoyance sounded so raw, hence genuine. You could hear and understand the words crystal clear; then why didn’t you believe your ears?

The group hug disassembled at a snail's pace and turned to face what they never expected to see ever again in their lifetime. You, on the other hand, had secretly wished for a moment like this. Your heart was aching for the chance, not caring about being rational nor delusional. It kept the faith in your soul steady.

- Please, tell me I’m not the only one who can see him – Klaus muttered.

- Ben – Diego confirmed in a hushed tone without letting out any more words as he didn’t need to. He was the bravest out of all of you to speak up.

So, there he stood in his monochrome outfit, with his black leather jacket hugging his form and a coy smile painted all over his face. The faint rosy cheeks, lively eyes and vivid emotions displayed told you everything. The Ben standing in front of you was very much real, and more importantly, alive, and well.

- All of you look like you’ve seen a ghost – he grinned from ear to ear, and his light-hearted joke legitimately freed your body from the tension which held you in your place so aggressively. Number Four didn’t hesitate one second longer, and slammed himself against his brother, who sweetly returned the embrace. Registering it, savouring it, then finally loving the physical contact, Klaus broke up in a hysterical laughter. The group succeeded to pull the strings in a way his death was luckily prevented. How the hell did we manage this? But he didn’t care. All that mattered was the present minute, what he currently knew as is.

- You’re telling me, man – his laugh slowly started to die down, but his joy only rose. Of course, a group hug was crucially needed and initiated effective immediately. Everyone surrounded him, and you held onto each other tightly, so he never slips away from your grasp again. You admitted it to yourself, that it felt heavenly, but more precisely, it felt so damn terrific. The others eventually backed away, but you stayed right in front of him.

- Hey, you – were all he needed to say for you to go flying into his arms – Where have you been? I missed you – his confession was a simple, warm, and loving anecdote, and it broke your heart in the best way possible.

You missed me?

Your loud sobbing, and ocean of tears was baffling and a mystery to him, and he looked at the others with a perplexed expression. They asked him to just let you be because they understood everything perfectly. Each tear was valid and every one of them had a reason. His arms were wrapped around your body, as he was shielding you from all the cruelty in this world. His embrace wasn’t tight, but fond and sensitive enough. You weren’t greedy at all; it was just all too marvellous. Hearing his stable beating heart as he held you close to his chest completely fulfilled you. A featherlight kiss was tenderly placed on your forehead by him, in an attempt to calm you down. It failed, as more droplets of salty water coated your apple-like cheeks. Even so, the kiss was given so compassionately, it must have come from heaven itself.

Maybe you were in Heaven. Maybe your life ended when you arrived in the hall. This isn’t real and I’m probably dead in Diego’s arms by now. But what if you accepted it as your reality now? You couldn’t believe it, even after feeling his touch and his kiss on your body. It might be because you thought you didn’t think your wish to see the person closest to your heart again would ever come true. After the horrific months you went through, it was certainly an impossibility to be gifted with something this enormous, significant, and joyous.

Maybe miracles and lucky days exist. Maybe they existed both on the same day in favour of you. I’ll accept this, I deserve this. You absolutely deserve to be happy and to drop the burden that’s been weighing on your soul for years. Nobody deserves to live their lives in inescapable guilt and grief. Having Ben back in all your lives meant the world to you. You were thinking about how you might have to fill him in on the details of the previous events, but that was a case for a later part of the day. For now, it was nice to bask in his love and warmth. You’ll care about every other issue later. This was the only feeling that mattered in that moment. Peace finally taking its rightful place back in your heart, which has been waiting for it for a long time now. He radiated pureness, an energy which was incomparable to anything else. Clutching his jacket was your anxiety making sure he doesn’t leave again. Maybe he was reading your thoughts, but at the same time he was realizing he’d never leave you even if it meant his life.

- I missed you too.

[ed-recovery-affirmations]

Hey! Sorry if this isn't the right place, so feel free to just ignore this, before I bring this up to a therapist I'd like to know if what I'm experiencing is even remotely similar to an ED or if I'm just overreacting:

I'm 20 and ever since I was about 10 I'd routinely starve myself and refuse to eat when I was hungry. I don't think I did it with a purpose in mind at first, I just knew that food looked disgusting to me and whenever I looked at it it felt like looking at rocks. As time went on what started to happen was that I'd go through long periods of this, more and more often what accompanied this was also a sort of fear? I'd often obsessively count calories and attempt to get in as little as possible in a day, often just straight up not eating anything at all for several days in a row. These periods were then interrupted by periods of time when I'd feel ravenously hungry all the time and devour everything in vicinity. So my weight always fluctuated a lot, like between 41-49 kg. And it's far to note that until like half a year ago, I understood that I am not fat, but I felt fat. But logically I knew that I am not. But half a year ago something went a little haywire in me I guess and this logic is no longer in place, I think that I am and feel fat. Most of the time I avoid eating and looking at food makes me feel horrible. When I eat, I feel repulsive and like nobody will ever love me. Once in a long while I have like 2 days of clarity that allow me to eat like a normal person but what usually happens is that since these are like my two allotted lucidity days and I'm usually weak at and starving by that point I go a little crazy in the other direction and eat way more than I should. Obviously a day or so after I feel horrible and it's back to starving. This process also usually takes up a significant amount of my brain power and it feels like I can't enjoy any of my hobbies or anything, my mind is basically constantly occupied with how I look. I obsessively check myself in the mirror (usually to my despair) and with a measuring tape (I find them more consistent than scales). It's also very negatively affecting my love life because I can't get naked in front of my partner and am convinced that if they saw that I'm not "perfect" (according to my brain that's Heroin chic) they'd find me repulsive and leave. I'm also starting to find myself unable to go to social gatherings because I feel like I am not "presentable" enough and like people will think I'm disgusting and fat the moment they see me.

You're definitely not overreacting! This absolutely sounds like you've passed the beginning stages of early ED and are starting to progress. I absolutely think these are issues you could bring up with a therapist. Always remember that a good therapist will not be dismissive of your worries, too!

It sounds like this might have started off as ARFID, or avoidant-restrictive food intake disorder, which is an ED that is not necessarily motivated by the pursuit of thinness, just a fear or disgust around certain foods that leads to an inability to eat most foods. However, it also sounds like deliberate restriction/anorexia has come into the picture. (It is not uncommon for people to experience more than one ED. If their relationship with food is already unstable, it makes them vulnerable to more than one, especially since it sounds like your brain was already predisposed to restricting and thinking of some foods as "bad.") It is also very common for binge cycles to alternate with restriction cycles when restriction has become advanced. This is because the body is desperate for the chance to take in food whenever it can, so whenever the desire to eat overtakes the desire to restrict, your brain is loudly screaming at you to get as much into yourself as possible. This can become quite the time-consuming battle in your brain - I know this from experience, because I used to be terribly chained by binge-restrict cycles and I do know how the obsession with your restricting/eating schedule can just take over your life. It can also really mess with your metabolism, hunger cues, and stress levels. It sounds like you're really struggling with this, especially when your fears around body image are involved!

"Feeling" fat or being convinced that you are fat, or being convinced that no one can love you in the body that you are fighting against, is another hallmark of a restrictive ED. Looking in the mirror and being unable to perceive yourself in a realistic or logical manner is another sign entirely. I highly recommend you look for a therapist who specializes in ED support, as this professional can help you not only start to embrace yourself, but to start taking your life back from these disordered patterns. You're not going to like this part, but part of your treatment will probably involve ceasing to measure and/or weigh yourself. Since your body needs to heal for a while even after settling into a pattern of stable mealtimes, your weight may continue to fluctuate or redistribute in different ways as your body figures out what it needs to do. Your worth, however, will always stay the same.

Best of luck! I hope you find a helpful therapist!

[thanekrios]

A desert of his own

Summary: Shepard dreams of a dead planet. Irikah tells Kolyat a myth of creation. And Thane sees a desert.

Note: I wrote this many years ago. Posted it here when I was galifreyas, so the original post is lost. This is still up @ my much abandoned AO3.

Let us start with a planet that has been dead for centuries. Let us tell some fictions and some realities about it. It is up to you to believe which ones are true.

What about a woman who dreams of the deserts of Rakhana? Deserts carpeted with purple weeds that are inhabited by silvery lizards she has named the afa’el. In her dreams, the afa’el sing – no, that’s not what they do, the old melodies once sung by burning stars echo in them. Sometimes it sounds like they are humming and others, they appear to be reproducing three songs at once. She watches the ira, cactus-like succulents, glowing in announcement of the dawn of a new season as the cavernous voices of an ancient creature or a sinking sun make their way across the planet, from afa’el to afa’el and finally they reach her. She hears and understands their wordless mellow stories.

They tell her of the Endu, the biggest flower to ever exist in any world, which according to legend had bloomed in an unforgiving desert and was encountered by a group of nomads who sought it as a symbol of Arashu and built the biggest civilization around it.

She learns of how Rakhana came to be. How it was once a frozen egg, drifting away in the Sea of Stars, and how a maiden made of gold nourished it back to life.

The woman, whose name is Shepard, visits the great desert of Alasere religiously. She enjoys standing there, sinking her feet in a golden ocean, listening to the afa’el murmur words in Rakhani long forgotten.

She learns of fihanda, which roughly translates to the guilt a child feels when they recognize dishonesty in their parents or in an older authority figure. There is amuefto, the gift of finding beauty in a person and seeing it reflected in their faces, regardless of their looks. Taverena, an expression of gratitude only used when someone has made a true impact one’s life, making it out of the ordinary. And then, tah-sehe.

“I will miss you, Shepard. Tah-sehe,” had been the last thing she heard from Thane’s lips before he left the Normandy. For a while, she whispered tah-sehe to herself while embracing the mundane. It would fill the room in the form of a silly melody muttered while she watched the rain pour; or as a gurgling sound while she took a shower. It was imprinted on her mind. It isn’t until the afa’el sing morosely about the last chapter in their planet’s history, that she discovers tah-sehe is not a word to be said lightly.

She comes to understand why Thane, who turns the simplest of sentences into splendid verses, had felt it necessary to utter that word – because I will miss you was but a fragment of what he wished to convey. Tah-sehe meant more than to miss someone; it was a profound emotional state of infinite yearning, of not being able to experience life to the fullest, of having lost the most significant part of oneself. The concept originated during the great exodus of the 1980s, as the first generations of drell settled in Kahje carried the name of the tah’sehen, the ones who dwell in what’s lost.

It didn’t matter whether those were dreams weaved by longing. Tah’sehe migrated from her head to her heart.

During the days, as the Vancouver rain attempts to wash away her dreams, she convinces herself that if she can capture at least a fraction of the beauty of the deserts she wanders in and if she can translate it into a form, any form, the dormant planet of Rakhana will be awaken.

For a while, Shepard considers writing about every beast, plant and insect she has come across in her journeys but she has never been one to confuse her desires with her abilities. Writing, just like dancing, does not come naturally to her. And while she is a gifted saxophone player, she was never much of a composer. Yet, she tries.

Thane had caught her once practicing one of her unpolished pieces, one she referred to as “if calluses were a song, this would be it.” He had asked her to play it for him. She knew he’d listen, he’d truly listen, and not just that…he’d remember.

“Ugliness is abundant in this galaxy. Let’s not add up to it.” She said, putting down her sax.

“When you play, I hear a reminder of beauty and laughter and life. What you do is extraordinary, siha. To transform the dreadful slices of the universe, its eruptions and its vast darkness into a stream of ecstatic sounds, a blast of playful rhythms. You create things when there is but destruction around you. There is value in that. I hope you see it someday.”

Encouraged by his words, she composes a few songs that don’t come to even faintly remind her of the fierce and dry winds scattered across the planet. She can’t feel its vibrant colors in her slow and melancholic tunes, as they are permeated by the city she sees through her window and a sky that won’t stop weeping.

That is when she starts making terrariums resembling the deserts she visits. She thinks, if she is ever lucky enough to see Thane again, she’ll hand him a desert of his own. She can still hear him:

“I would much like to see a desert.”

* * *

After Kolyat leaves Huerta Memorial, so does Thane. He sees him walk away in a pristine white hallway and at the same time, a young Kolyat attempts to step on his father’s footprints. He can smell salt and iron and antiseptics and detergent, and hear machines beeping and waves crashing. Kolyat is saying something, he wants to be heard, but what might have been the most important words ever spoken are drowned by the roaring of the sea. He just stares at him and waits for his father to react and after a pause, disappointment is written all over his face. Thane asks him to hurry up and a young Kolyat walks reluctantly towards him, this time ignoring the trail of footprints left by his father.

He wishes his recollections were malleable, he often hears of humans enriching their past with fictions; or of conflicts among them springing from a poor recollection of events. But a drell’s memories are unforgiving –they can, on occasion, overlap with reality–but never be rewritten.

His mind takes him to that same evening, after Kolyat asked him to dance with him but he refused, as he was getting ready to go to work. He doesn’t see blighted hope but despondency in his child. Kolyat still wishes him a pleasant journey, as he always does, and runs to his room. He should have kissed his forehead. He should have made him feel like he was the brightest sun in the Zahel Sea cluster, the most vital spring of energy in his life.

As he is lacing up his shoes, he hears Irikah’s voice. Whenever she puts Kolyat to bed, her voice is soft and gentle. Like most nights, she is telling him a story. Irikah was always the better storyteller. Irikah was always the better everything.

“Now as everybody knows, the Land of Whistling Dunes was the child of a maiden made of gold, whose heart’s one desire was to drink from the Sea of Stars” says Irikah.

“The Milky Way” Kolyat mouths the words as his mother speaks them.

Irikah nods gently before continuing her story:

“The maiden, who shoned in silence in the skies, knew her womb was barren for a blazing flame lived inside of her. She watched the ages pass and her younger sisters descend to the Sea and drink from its starry tides; and one by one, they all bore and gave birth to the Sea’s children. And as eons passed, the children danced around their mothers; and the mothers swayed gently in the Sea.

The maiden, lonely and scorching, continued to long for the Sea’s kiss, until the day all eyes turned to the death of her older sister, whose cries of pain were carried by the waves, scattering them across the galaxy. And with her passing, her children came to perish too. It was then the maiden dove into the Sea of Stars and gulped its darkness greedily, for she desired children of her own.

The waves whipped her mercilessly as punishment for her insolence, tearing her flesh open. But the maiden didn’t yield; she drank until no more fire dripped from her mouth, she drank until the tides had dragged her sisters and nieces and she had swallowed them whole, she drank until the radiant sea was almost pitch-black.”

Irikah pauses. Something is happening.

Thane hears a gasp that doesn’t fit in their house, it doesn’t belong in the past. A horrified gasp. He recognizes the padding of shoe soles brushing against the floor and the sharp rhythmic piercing sounds of heels. There are many of them. Nurses, patients, visitors, doctors. They’re gathering near him. A man raises his voice, demanding everyone to be quiet. Another voice protests, only to be followed by Doctor Michel shushing the crowd and asking someone to turn down their hand terminal’s sound, so everyone can listen to the same thing.

Then, Irikah’s narration comes to him in long, heavy echoes.

He wants to be home as much as he wants to discover what is happening around his body. He can feel reality piercing its way through, the white pristine light of Huerta Memorial filtering through a crack in the wall he always meant to fix. Another voice slides in, distant and resonant, and he can’t make out what it says. He ignores it. He needs to hear the end of Irikah’s tale. That memory must remain unspoiled, uninterrupted. It’s the last story he ever hears her tell.

He hangs onto it; everything else must wait just a little longer.

“The Sea, heartbroken after witnessing the death of so many of his kin, felt conflicted as he desired retribution but didn’t wish to feel emptiness any further. He then presented the maiden with a choice: he would spare her life if she looked after an egg that had lost its guardian centuries ago; and if she was able to give life to a daughter who existed suspended in a shell of ice and yearned to see the light, her crimes would be forgiven. As the maiden accepted his offer, the pale egg rose up out of the sea. She held it tight, keeping it warm until the day it hatched and came to love it. And so, a winged silvery lizard was born. Her name was Rakhana.”

“Reports are coming in from the cities of London, Seoul and Vancouv—“

She is almost done. Let her finish.

“It’s said that Rakhana’s mother could not stand her daughter flying far away from her, for she was terrified that her only companion would abandon her. So Rakhana, who very much loved her mother and wished to make her proud, danced near her despite the sultriness she felt around her. Eventually, her entire body blushed with red desert flowers and her skin blistered and turned hot and dry. The lizard curled up and fell into a deep slumber as her skin turned to soil; and her breath became wind; and from her backbone a mountain range was born; and while she gave life to many, she failed to save them from the maiden’s fire. And so, Rakhana’s body continued dancing around her mother and her mother swayed gen...”

He sees a large group of people gathered a few feet away from where he is sitting. It takes him a moment to put together the pieces of the situation, of what it is being broadcasted through every terminal, of why Doctor Michel is shaking while she buries her face in her hands.

A myth of creation is replaced by news of destruction.

* * *

Thane always enjoyed looking at her fish. Once more, he sees them travel with glee from one side of the tank to the other. He used to feed them whenever she forgot, which was more often than she would care to admit. Half a lifetime ago.

He presses one of his fingertips against the fish tank’s glass and draws small invisible circles. A Thessian Sunfish follows his finger, even when he begins to trace unpredictable shapes. Shepard can��t see his face but she likes to think he’s grinning, greeting his old friends.

From all the stories and words that spun inside her head, tah-sehe is the only one she has felt pounding violently inside her. She wonders, even if she doesn’t know its true meaning, if perhaps there’s a word that encases an opposite feeling, the sensation of her chest being cluttered with emotions; and the impulse she is struggling to oppress, of talking about everything at once, the things she has seen and done and felt. And on the same time, she doesn’t want to talk at all, she wants to reach out and touch and caress and experience.

So, she asks.

“Is there a word in Rakhani for…this? Say…what you feel when you are reunited with someone? Like you with the fish right now.”

Thane turns around slowly; his hands are behind his back. The hint of a smile turns the corners of his mouth.

“I believe the closest word is sehifa. Even though I wouldn’t use it to describe my reunion with the fish. Is there a similar word in human language?”

“I don’t know if there’s a word for it in one of the human languages, but there isn’t one in English. At least the translator didn’t find an equivalent.”

“Ah. I see. Sehifa is a hard concept to condense into a single word. Perhaps it can be defined as the dusk of missing someone. Although it means more than that. It also refers to what you feel and what you do when you are reunited. The emotional closeness that is rekindled. Perhaps even physical intimacy. The warmth you feel in your chest. And what is exchanged. A memento or a present perhaps. Even the stories that your loved one wished to tell you for a long time, when they are finally said out loud and heard by the person who was meant to hear them. How each action or touch is meaningful.”

The dusk of missing someone. That’s it. That’s what it is.

Her cheeks feel warm and her heart full. She smiles the brightest of smiles and starts to laugh. It is a deep, explosive burst of laughter. The sort that seems to pour out like liquid gold to illuminate an entire room.

When Shepard runs out of laughter, she holds his gaze:

“I have something for you. A memento or a present or something of sorts.” She disappears for a couple of seconds and emerges from the bathroom holding something round made of crystal, around the same size as a fishbowl. “Remember what you told me? About creating? It’s funny. All this time I believed all I could ever make were bad songs. But in truth, there were worlds I could create. I can’t really share them with you, not with words at least, so I made a thing. It’s not really finished and it’s not as pretty as what it looked in my dreams but reality rarely pairs up with your expectations, right? I wanted to work on it for a while longer but, after what you just said, I just can’t wait anymore. Here.”

She shakes her head and hands it to him.

Thane holds it up.

It’s a terrarium.

She had created a harmonic ecosystem, filled with lively-colored succulents and cacti, each of them she handpicked herself to resemble the desert of Alasere. She knows that Rakhana will remain arid and dormant; and the worlds that live inside of her aren’t supposed to be more than just dreams. Yet, somehow, Thane is holding a slice of one of them between his hands. One of the things he wished he could see with his own eyes has come to him. In a way, a dream they dreamt of together became real.

He puts the terrarium down with care, next to her terminal, and he reaches over and cups her cheeks with both hands. He calls her by her first name, as he rarely does. He leans down and presses his forehead against hers. He smiles a very rare smile. He is somehow doing it with his entire face. His eyes are deep pools of bliss and warmth and tenderness.

“A desert” he says. She can even hear the smile in his voice.

She nods calmly. He knows Shepard is good at locking her nostalgia away behind more curtains than just her eyelids, but right then, her voice breaks.

“I really wanted you to see that desert, Thane.”

He utters a word in Rakhani used to convey a specific form of gratitude. And while taverena escapes from his lips, Shepard hears him say:

“Thank you for giving me the extraordinary.”

[stitchedupwrist]

Junghwan from Reply 1988

-A character synapsis, by yours truly.

a/n: all opinions in this prose are MINE and it consists of how I interpret his character so it will be nice if you have that in mind while reading! :)

also has spoilers!!

I completed this beautiful drama last August despite it being released some few years ago. The storyline was captivating, realistic and above everything; the characters were very memorable. And as I’ve mentioned, i will be writing about one of my favourite characters: Kim Junghwan, who is one of the five protagonists on the show.

Personally, I think Junghwan is a very caring person, though he might not present himself as an obvious one.

In terms of family matters:

When he noticed that his dad was sulking, he decided to take part in his shenanigans, which was obviously out of his comfort zone in order to bring back his mood.

He was the one who took notes on what his mother would like best for her birthday, proving how he is a good reader of others.

He never looked down on his brother despite the idea of how everyone around him did so differently.

As for his friends:

Keep in mind how he gave up his allowance, even upto the shoes he was currently wearing to his bully but when that same person took his friend’s necklace, he stood up for him without any hesitation.

Due to his ongoing image of being the cold and grumpy one among the group, he hardly ever show his emotions but i believe that it was obvious how observant he is of others around him and that he care for them very much.

And of course the tragic art of giving up his first love to a friend, which i will come to later.

Coming to his way of showing affection, i believe that his mother ,(or his parents' relationship rather), plays a significant role over this. We often see scenes of his mother bickering and shouting at the one she loves, i.e her husband and being exposed to such an environment, it is easy to make out that Junghwan probably grew up believing that that was the right way to behave to a loved one- to be cold and stern with them which in turn affected the outcome of his feelings towards Deoksun.

When he finally took a huge step by telling DS to cancel the blind date and taking her to a concert, i was tricked into believing that they were totally ending up together. But some night when Taek announced that he had the same feeling over DS, his nature of keeping others first unconsciously awakens, as how i perceived it.

He is one of the few people who knew of Taek and how he needed someone to look for him, i feel like he could not allow himself to hurt him by being a bother or a bump on his way.

I firmly believe, even though many people over the internet think differently, that his hesitation in taking leads has nothing to do with his cowardice nor pride. I do so because we often see him overcome them in the exact time when he has to (as provided in previous instances).

Also i’ve seen writings criticising him for backing out in the confession scene and i might be a tad bit biased (ha ha ha) but i will once again bring my own interpretation to the table. Here’s my humble take on that-

On the bar with Taek absent, whenever the bell chimes for the door, DS sprints to see if Taek has arrived. Junghwan saw this and finally come to realise the ugly truth of how he has lost his battle to Taek. I believe that that was the final and the last push which made him to decide to close the chapter in his life which he held on for so long, and that too in favor of a friend who was more in need, or as how he sees it.

I also believe that even though he concluded it as a joke, at least DS was aware that it was not the truth but she also knew well that he was a step too late, so she just played along.

As in everything that he does, I believe he must’ve put a lot of thoughts over the matter; especially because a very dear friend’s feelings was also on the line. For someone like him, it was easier to ignore and bury his own heart rather than to break another’s. In the end, he decides that friendship weigh more than romance ; letting himself lose in the battle that he held on for a long while. He is, and will always be a brave, selfless and warm character whom i cherish so much!

PSA. I just read arguments over how JH was only bickering and rude to DS so even if they did end up together they would always only fight and the spark of the whole thing wouldn't last long.

I do get the reason as to why this conclusion was settled on and agreed upon by many, but once again as thee self assigned JH protector, i couldn't just sit still! haha.

So here's a not so useful yet wild take and all opinions are once again, unsurprisingly, mine.

The whole narrative of aforementioned point just downright disregards JH's affection and actions as a whole character into this failure of a person who cannot woo his crush which also ultimately reduces him into this clichéd male "bully" lead who is just mean with no love to offer is something that i personally cannot let slide. At the same time it feels as if the numerous times and events that showcased his very own good points are now all minimized and pushed aside, all because he expresses himself and his feelings in a different manner than most.

Till date, i like to believe that no character deserved DS more than the other. And to me the whole idea that the story of a teen boy pursuing his crush would be messy and all sloppy in a way that a mature and full grown man would've not done is far more realistic because being a teen contains multitudes of mistakes and embarassing firsts. So even if the final outcome was different i find no reason why it would be any better or lesser by no means.

The very boy who bickered and played shenanigans with DS was the very same boy who would pretend to tie his shoes every single morning just so he could walk with her to school. Because this was his way of giving his heart to her, he would write each one of them in wrinkled pages he hid himself ,piling each one on top of the other, to give it all to her one day: how he gave away his own umbrella to save her from being drenched that one night, how he would stay up the remaining nights until he was sure she reached home safely, and also the countless times when he would firmly stand beside her in tight buses so that she would not trip over. He might also place a special bookmark on the day they went to a concert together while also tugging the picture they took so safely in both his wallet and his fragile heart. Maybe he wrote it in capitals how much he meant it when he asked her not to go to the blind date - all of these - and more - he had written them all, again and again in letters he found nice and in words that he hoped would translate his love. Unfortunately for him (and us), they were written in letters and words she couldn't understand, everything in a language she did not speak. But it's not her fault. And not his either. It's no one's fault, really.

At this point I'm not even sure if im defending a fictional character, whom i have a serious attachment with, or in reality, people like me who are often misjudged and unfairly perceived for having our own little ways of expressing our affections towards our loved ones. I don't know anymore but what i do know is how much i wanted the writers to have given JH a well deserved, proper ending without making it seem so rushed and brushed off hurriedly, so that those of us who act, think, feel and love like him would not feel that we are undeserving of a sappy, heart warming love story of our own.

[bookwormsid1015]

BNHA: This Time Around

[A Semi-CloudNight Oneshot]

“Aaahhh! It feels so good to unwind like this,” Fukukado Emi, best known as the Laughing Hero: Ms. Joke, laughs in relief as she leans forward against the bar countertop, a mug of whiskey in hand. She’s dressed in her civilian outfit, which consists of high waist blue skinny jeans and a light yellow crop top tee shirt with a bold white stripe stretching across her chest. Her mint green hair is held back in a low ponytail, and black slip-on sneakers adorn her feet; her outfit accented by  a black choker around her neck and three beaded bracelets coating her right wrist. 

Joining her at their favorite bar is Tatsuma Ryuko (Ryukyu), Takeyama Yuu (Mt. Lady), and Kayama Nemuri (Midnight). Nemuri’s rosy red lips tilt upwards into a sly smile, and she raises her glass of red wine to her lips. Unlike Fukukado, Nemuri is dressed to impress, with her beautiful dark blue dress fading to a vibrant pink as it travels down towards the helm of her dress, perfectly matching her light complexion. Black three inch heels adorn her feet, and her deep indigo hair is held over her head in a messy bun, staked into place by a black pin that distinctly resembles a fox tail. 

Nemuri pushes up her crimson red glasses, still smiling. “Me too,” she agrees happily. “My agency has been so busy lately with all the League of Villain madness. It feels great to just be in the moment every now and again.”

Sitting on Fukukado’s other side, directly across from Nemuri, Takeyama stares down at her small glass of champagne, her eyebrows knitted together in exhaustion. The Giant Hero, like Ms. Joke, is dressed in casual clothing, wearing short blue jean shorts with a simple orange tank top and a single star-shaped golden necklace around her neck. Her long, wavy blond hair is tied back in a ponytail, which spirals down to her midback in beautiful platinum waves. 

“I knew starting my own agency was going to be hard, but I didn’t think it would be this hard,” Takeyama confesses, exhaustion lacing her tone. “Like, I can’t effectively take down any villains because my size destroys so much property, and I hate that my fans only seem to like me because they want me to step on them! It’s so weird! People are weird and gross!” She drops her head onto the table and groans mutely into the polished wood. “And here I thought the big city would be different from home.”

Tatsuma places a gentle hand on Takeyama’s back and pats it reassuringly. Like Nemuri, Tatsuma is dressed for the occasion in a simple yet elegant violet dress with a chain of pearls around her neck and diamond earrings in her ear. It is no surprise Ryukyu would wear such beautiful jewelry, though given her status as a dragon, Nemuri wasn’t surprised.  “Don’t worry, Takeyama. We all start off rough, but guaranteed your agency will become amazing,” the Dragon Hero encourages the blond heroine gently, and Takeyama’s shoulders only slightly relax.

Fukukado taps her chin, her dark green eyes thoughtful. “Come to think of it, aren’t you and Kamui Woods, like, a thing now? I heard his agency is successful, maybe you can talk to him about it,” she says, and Takeyama reaches across the table with frantic shushing gestures.

“Don’t say that outloud! We want to keep our relationship private! The last thing we need is the media crawling up our asses about it,” she snarls at the Laughing Hero, and Fukukado raises her hands in surrender.

“Oops! My bad!” Fukukado yelps and frantically checks around her in case anyone was listening in. Nemuri and Tatsuma make eye contact from across the table and snicker to themselves.

“Kamui Woods is a very dependable man, though,” Tatsuma adds. “I’m proud of you.”

Takeyama buries her face in her hands. “Can’t we talk about anything else?” she whines.

Fukukado’s smile returns full force, and a shit-eating grin splits across her face. “But why though? Everyone loves hearing about a good romance!” She cups her hands to her cheeks and swoons giddily. “Like, just the other day, I ran into Eraserhead at a coffee shop! It was so amazing, like something out of a romance novel!” 

Nemuri’s cerulean eyes widen slightly. “Oh yeah, he told me about that. Didn’t he leave the second he saw you?” she asks.

Fukukado’s cheeks flush red, and she chuckles awkwardly. “Oh, yeah, he did. Something about not wanting to deal with my energy or whatever. But that just makes it so much more exciting! I mean, look at him, all dark and mysterious and broody~!”

“Not to mention a total hobo who forgets to shower half the time,” Nemuri adds. The other heroines at the table chuckle.

“AND he’s the only one who I haven’t gotten to laugh yet!” Fukukado goes on, ignoring Nemuri’s remark. “One of these days, I’ll get him to laugh! If not, at least smile! Yeah, that would be amazing.”

“Why not use your Quirk?” Tatsuma asks.

Fukukado shakes her head adamantly. “He erases Quirks, remember? Besides, I don’t just wanna make him laugh! I want to really make him laugh, you know? Something authentic. Using my Quirk would just be dishonest and mean.”

Nemuri shrugs her shoulders, though a part of her is secretly relieved. She’s known Eraserhead since high school, and knowing him, the main reason he wouldn’t want to try dating Fukukado would be because he doesn’t want to be influenced by her Quirk. Then again, this is Eraserhead they’re talking about. After what happened in high school, he probably wouldn’t give her a chance either way. He has trouble enough making friends, let alone dating. The cruel reality of hero work scarred him, and the mere thought of it hurts her heart. Fear guides him, and Nemuri desperately wishes she could do something to help.

“What about you, Midnight?” Nemuri perks up, and finds the eyes of the other heroines glued on her. Fukukado leans forward eagerly, her dark green eyes sparkling like diamonds. “Do you have anyone you’re with right now? With your gorgeous looks and bedazzling personality, I’ll bet yes!”

Tatsuma casts Fukukado a significant look. “Ms. Joke, your bi is showing,” she comments, startling a laugh out of Takeyama.

Nemuri glances down at her wine glass and slowly sways it around in her grasp, watching the dark red liquid roll within its transparent chamber. Her smile becomes wistful. “I’ve had flings, but serious relationships? Nope. I haven’t had any in years. Probably not since high school,” she replies honestly.

Takeyama lifts her head, blinking at the R-Rated Hero in surprise. “What? There’s no way. Your entire aesthetic is about intimacy! Especially the sexy kind,” she gapes, and Nemuri chuckles at her reaction.

“It’s true. I haven’t had a proper boyfriend since my third year in high school, and to be honest…” Nemuri’s smile becomes bitter, and she chuckles in spite of her hypocrisy. “I don’t think I’ll ever date again. Hurts too much.”

Fukukado grimaces slightly. “Oof, was he really that bad?” she asks, and Nemuri immediately shakes her head.

“No, no. In fact, he was amazing. He was the sweetest, funniest, most loyal person I’d ever met. He cared about everyone unconditionally, and he would always go out of his way to help people. Hell, this one time, he found a kitten stuck in the rain and brought it with him to school,” she reminisces, smiling at the memory of him. Even now she can clearly see his broad, glowing smile, and the image sparks an old pain in her heart. “He was my everything. Even though we wanted different things out of life-- with him wanting to start an agency with his other friends, and me wanting to start the Midnight Agency-- we still promised we’d be together. That we'd make it work.”

Fukukado’s brows are drawing together in concern, now, and acid rises in Nemuri’s chest at the realization in her eyes. “Wait, you’re talking about him in the past tense,” she says. “What… happened?”

Nemuri’s smile falls completely, and she utters a deep sigh. “The worst,” she responds. “About fifteen years ago, we were alerted to a villain attack in Tasomiya Ward, a giant monster with the ability to stockpile power.” Tatsuma and Fukukado’s eyes widen nearly simultaneously, no doubt recognizing the event, but Takeyama blinks at Nemuri in confusion; she’s too new to the career to know. 

Her voice shudders, but still, Nemuri goes on, “All of us were there. Me, Eraserhead, Present Mic, and… him. We did everything in our power to stop the monster, but it was too big. We couldn’t do anything. I was evacuating everyone out of the area while he, Present Mic, and Eraserhead went to go stop the villain. Civilians got hurt; there’s no way to protect everyone. But he…”

The image washes over her, stealing away all her breath in an instant. She can smell the salty rain clouds, she can feel the slick pavement beneath her boots, the uncomfortable way debris clings to her sweaty skin. Above all else, she remembers rounding the corner just in time to see a cloud explode to life over a class of kindergarteners and their teacher, leaving them protected but him exposed. Their eyes made contact, and before Nemuri could do anything, before she could call out his name or take a step forward, a giant chunk of debris was upon him, and she was helpless to watch it swallow him whole.

The scene barely lasted for more than a few seconds, but she can still see it. The sickening crunch resonating through the air as his skull cracks open, the violent spray of blood from his head… She suddenly wants to throw up her wine and crumble into a ball. Old insecurities she thought she’d abandoned were suddenly creeping up the back of her mind, whispering terribly in her ears.

“Your quirk is useless. It couldn’t protect anyone, especially not your loved ones.”

“It’s because you’re so useless he’s dead.”

“Why are you even a hero?”

“Midnight?”

Nemuri snaps out of the memory and finds the other heroines looking at her in worry. She quickly realizes she’d dropped her wine glass to cover her face, and while thankfully the glass didn’t break, the wine was splattered all over the table top. It looks exactly like his blood.

“Midnight,” Tatsuma reaches out to her and gently takes her hands, leading them away from her face and gripping them tightly. Nemuri clings onto the contact, desperately wishing her hands were someone else’s. “Are you okay? Do you need a moment?”

Nemuri shakes her head slowly and slips her hands out of Tatsuma’s reach. She hates it when people look at her with those worried eyes. “It affected all of us,” Nemuri goes on. “Obviously, it hurt me. I lost my boyfriend and the guy I wanted to… but Present Mic and Eraserhead lost their best friend. Their brother.”

Fukukado shakes her head, tears springing to her eyes. “Oh, Midnight, I’m… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to open an old wound,” she whispers in horror, and Nemuri shakes her head again, this time with more resolve.

“It’s fine, really. It gave me a horrible wake up call, that above all else, we are heroes. Whether we want to acknowledge it or not. Every day we go out there and put our lives on the line. We could live, we could die, but what matters most is protecting others.” She glances down at the wine spilled all over the table, and her own reflection stares back at her with wary acceptance. She sighs, long and tired. “Watching him die made me realize how easily life can be lost, how tragedy can strike in an instant. That’s why I want to embrace my youth for as long as I can, so I can live enough for both of us.” Her reflection’s lips quirk upward into a trying smile. “That way, when I die, when I can finally see him again, I can tell him about all my adventures with pride.”

Nemuri looks up and finds herself staring into the wet faces of the other heroes. Tatsuma, Fukukado, and Takeyama are all staring at their senior hero with wide, tearful eyes, and Nemuri likes to think in this moment, they felt more respect for the seasoned heroine.

Nemuri smiles back at them and wipes the tears from her eyes. “Remember that, you three,” she tells them. “Go forward knowing nothing-- not even love-- is certain, but don’t let it scare you. The world is scary, dangerous, and even cruel, but what’s most important is cherishing the people in our lives.” She raises her wine glass and what remains of the wine sloshes around in its glassy imprisonment. “To living.”

Fukukado, Tatsuma, and Takeyama look between themselves. One by one, they lift their drinks to the sky, each glass a different shape containing a different drink. “To living,” they echo, and tap their glasses together with Nemuri’s. The R-Rated Hero smiles truly, her heart swelling with pride.

Nemuri drives home alone that night.

Of course, the four heroines stayed at that bar for hours, laughing and drinking together once the shock of Nemuri’s lost-love bombshell faded away. As their senior, Nemuri only drank a few sips of her wine every now and again (although the gruesome memories made her want to get wasted out of her mind), and she allowed the other heroes to have their fun and get as wasted as they want. Takeyama and Fukukado were joking around, having a blast singing old pop culture songs together, occasionally getting Tatsuma to join in whenever the Dragon Hero got over her shyness.

Eventually, Nemuri dragged the three drunken heroines back into her car (thankful they all decided to take Nemuri’s car there and back), and she drove all the ladies home, making sure they had all their possessions with them before leaving. Once she dropped them all off at their houses and made small talk with any partners they had waiting for them, she decided to gather her wits and go home herself. Today was a long day, and she was surprised to find herself emotionally exhausted so soon.

The bar is a fifteen minute drive from her house, but as soon as she leaves her car and strides up the driveway, she pulls open the front door and steps inside her dark home. Despite it’s nice size, being a two story house with multiple bedrooms and bathrooms, only Nemuri lives in it, though she’s not completely alone.

“Meow!” Nemuri looks down, and her heart lifts slightly as her tabby orange cat comes bounding over to her, high in energy despite his age. Nemuri kneels down to collect him in her arms, and she cradles the cat like a baby.

“Hello, Sushi-baby,” she coos at him as she kicks the front door shut and locks it behind her. “How are you doing? Were you keeping the house safe from big bad strangers while I was gone?”

Sushi meows in response and nuzzles her bust.

The house is big and empty now, but one day, Nemuri hopes she’ll marry and settle down, maybe start a family all her own. It won’t be for a while, and honestly, Nemuri is scared to start dating out of fear of herself or her partner dying, but she decided a long time ago to live by her words so she bought the house regardless. She’s getting older now, and at thirty-two, she knows she doesn’t have much time left. At the very least, Oboro would want her to be happy, even if her happiness isn’t with him. She just hopes she can find someone accepting of her tastes and interests, like he did. 

Nemuri enters her living room and sits back in her recliner, pulling out her phone to amuse herself. Sushi immediately adjusts himself in her lap and kneads her legs with his paws, turning around in a circle before plopping down into a comfortable loaf. Nemuri scratches him behind the ears with a faint smile.

“We’ll be okay,” she says, more so to herself than to the cat.

Sushi’s lazy purring is her only response.

Nemuri leans back into her chair and sighs. Tomorrow will be a new day.

[straykeeju]

Warning. Yandere content ahead.

Minho wasn’t stupid. He knew you were going out every night to hang out with your friends. The exact friends he didn’t want you talking to. But he knew exactly what you were doing during your ‘study sessions’ at the 'library’. He could smell the alcohol in your clothes, the makeup on your face and the sparkly dress you wore under your sweater.

Minho knew. Minho knew everything.

But he’d never let it on, oh no. He wasn’t stupid. He knew you’d try to leave the moment you’d come to know that he had his eyes on you 24/7. It was too much hard work trying to date you in the first place, and he wasn’t going to ruin it when he finally succeeded. But your behavior still bothered him. He wasn’t happy with how popular you were among the boys in your year.

Your popularity among other guys was the reason why it was so hard for Minho to catch your attention. But once he did, it was a piece of cake. Why wouldn’t it be? He had spent three weeks just to study you, and your interests. He knew exactly what to say and how to act, just to charm you. It was safe to say that it worked. You were his now.

But that was the easiest part. Making you settle down was a feat that most people would consider impossible since it wasn’t news that you were a free soul.

But Minho wasn’t like most people.

Most people would try to talk out their insecurities with their partners. Most people would even break off the relationship if they couldn’t handle each other. Most people would find other rational solutions.

Most people would not consider isolating their significant other in a dark room with no food or water until they gave in.

*

“M-Minho, please,” Y/N whimpered as she pulled at her restraints when she saw the door creek open, allowing some light to spill in as Miho slipped into the room. She knew he wouldn’t reply though. He did this often to mess with her head, giving her false hope, but then shattering it the next minute. But today was different. Minho allowed himself in and shut the door. He took long strides towards the windows and pulled the curtains open, causing the daylight to flood in, almost hurting Y/N’s eyes.

“What’s the matter, Y/N? I thought you wanted the sunlight,” he chuckled as he made his way towards her, his left arm hiding something behind his back. Y/N was almost too shocked by what was happening to even piece together that something might be wrong. She sat there, frozen as Minho crouched down before her, smiling his devilish smile as he tucked some of her matted hair behind her ears.

“Aren’t you so sick of being stuck down here, baby?” He asked, voice as sweet as honey, taking her back. The last time he spoke to her like this, things were normal. She should have known from his newfound sweetness that Minho had ulterior motives, but after being chained to the rotten wooden floors in his basement for a week with no food and water, Y/N was beginning to lose her mind. She needed to feel like an actual person. She was desperate. So, she leaned into his touch and sighed shakily.

Minho’s brows shot up as she nuzzled her face into his palm, his heart beating in his throat.

Did it work? So soon? Is she crumbling already?

He almost couldn’t help the proud smirk that was slowly creeping up onto his lips, but he held back. He had to be completely sure. He held up a pair of keys. “Do you know what these are, baby?”

Of course, she knew what those were. Those were the keys to the locks that kept her bound to the basement. She’d only gotten a glimpse of it last time when he tried her up, and she’d be lying if she said that she hadn’t been dreaming of it for the past one week. However, the reason for her to think of those keys transformed drastically throughout the week. She went from cussing it out to begging for it, to almost giving up, and even trying to think of it positively.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the clanging sound of Minho undoing the chains that bounded her hands together. She shivered a bit every time his hands brushed against her skin, only causing Minho to bite back a smirk in the second time in the same minute.

As soon as her chains were off, he pulled her up to stand on her feet. Much to his delight but her dismay, she lost her balance and fell against him. Her entire body seized up as his arms gripped her by her elbows and steadied her, a series of apologies slipping past her lips. She wasn’t going to make him angry. Not again. Not ever.

Minho abruptly pulled out a knife from behind him, at which Y/N immediately cowered. “P-please don’t h-hurt me,” she sobbed, hugging herself, falling onto her knees. “I’ll do anything you want!” She gasped desperately, eyes burning. Minho shook his head and kneeled to her level. “What are you saying, Y/N? Hurt you? No, this knife isn’t for me to use. It’s for you,” he spoke, throwing her off further.

Her bloodshot eyes met his well-rested brown ones, searching for any emotion, but it was devoid. At the state she was in, she didn’t know what to do. Even when Minho took her hand and placed a large knife on the palm of her hand, with a gentle smile, she couldn’t understand what was going on.

“Hurt me.”

It was a test. It was the only way he could know if he has succeeded in teaching her lesson. All he needed to see was her hesitation. But instead, he was met with her shocked face. He could almost see the cogs turning in her brain, weighing out the chances.

No. What is she doing? Why is she thinking so much?

Y/N hesitated. But it wasn’t in the way Minho wanted her to. Screwing her eyes shut, she gripped the knife and slashed at him, deciding to take the opportunity he presented before her. Deep down she knew that there was no way she’d be able to run away like this, but she wanted to perform one last act of defiance before she let him have her.

She dashed past an infuriated Minho and ran up the stairs. She made it out of the basement and into the living room of his house before she felt strong arms grip her by her waist and pull her back. Her mouth was gagged, and her arms were tied again.

She looked up to see her 'boyfriend’ with a bloody forehead smiling at her. However, there was nothing sweet about this smile of his. It was positively devilish. Messy dark hair in his eyes, blood gushing down the side of his face, a crazed grin stretched across his lips, and his already dark eyes clouded with sadism. He looked like the spawn of Satan himself.

She trembled under his gaze, swallowing harshly. She made a mistake, she was aware. Minho simply took a fistful of her hair and dragged her back down to the basement, ignoring her cries and pleas.

Y/N expected him to leave her there again for another couple of weeks after this, but when she noticed him taking his belt off, she started panicking.

“What’s wrong princess? Are you scared? You seemed to be very courageous just a few moments ago. I didn’t see you as the kind to falter so quick,” he lashed his belt against the floor, causing a few drops of tears to escape her eyes in fear of what’s to come, to which Minho threw his head back and let out a horrible laugh. The kind you’d hear in some horror-themed video game. But that’s what it was, anyways. This was Minho’s game. He’d terrorize her, and she’d cower, only to try to fight back again, and fail.

Most people would consider it to be a viciously unentertaining cycle.

But Minho wasn’t like most people.

~ Admin Tiny

[the-witty-pen-name]

Can’t Help Falling in Love

Loki x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Summary: When Loki learns the traditions of Valentine’s Day, he asks you to be his Valentine- and reluctantly takes advice from Steve Rogers. 

Warnings: none; just fluff

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Thank you to @squadleaderchase​ for the suggestion! This was so fun to write!

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

I recommend listening to Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley towards the end of this imagine!  

There is also a female reader version of this fic, available here!

“Can’t Midgardians have a holiday that doesn’t involve such a grotesque display of… red?” Loki asks walking into the living room of the Avengers compound. Loki arrived at the compound a few weeks before Christmas and so far, he’s experienced two Earth holidays: Christmas and New Year’s. Of course, Tony had picked the theme for both parties to be elaborately red and gold- he claimed the fact that it matched his suit was merely a coincidence.

“Just wait until next month,” you reply casually, your eyes not leaving the brief you were reading while you sat cozied up in one of the large armchairs. “I think you’ll like St. Patrick’s Day much more… color scheme wise at least.”

Loki looked up curiously at the hearts of all shades of red and pink Natasha had hung up to decorate the Avengers’ living quarters. She had gone to visit Clint’s family and his kids spent hours making Valentines and decorations out of construction paper and glitter. Loki looked almost puzzled at the lopsided hearts that hung from the ceiling on transparent line so they looked like they floated mid-air.

“Perhaps I might,” he mumbled to himself, the lovesick aura of his surroundings making him slightly disgusted. “Though I suppose I find your rituals as bizarre as you’d find on Asgard.”

“Mhmm,” you mumbled in response to his thinking out loud. It was rare that the compound would be this quiet. It was a Friday evening and in the middle of a team meeting earlier today, Tony declared exhaustedly that everyone needs to start the weekend early and dismissed everyone despite Steve’s protests. You weren’t sure where everyone else went and you didn’t particularly care- enjoying the rare peace and quiet.

You didn’t mind Loki’s company. He was a little aloof but overall, you found him more to be misunderstood than anything else. He wasn’t like Thor and sure, he had a very trouble ridden past to downplay it- but he’s confided in you all it wasn’t entirely his doing. Out of everyone living at the compound, he probably had grown the closest to you, or as close as Loki would allow himself to be to someone.

“What even is this holiday?” Loki asked, pulling his attention from the decorations to where you sat, binder in your lap. You looked up and closed the brief, tossing it onto the coffee table in front of where you sat.

“Sunday is Valentine’s Day,” you say looking back over to him, meeting his eyes. “I mean overtime the traditions and how we celebrate have changed but it’s originally the day meant to honor St. Valentine and commemorate his death. There’s a lot more to it than that and there’s all different of different origins, but now it’s more like a day where you celebrate love, because he was the patron Saint of Love.”

Loki nods, liking the idea of this holiday much more than New Years already. He didn’t mind Christmas, but the elaborate parties made everything not very appealing to him. You can’t blame the god for not having a good time at parties where every guest fears him or hates him. He walks over and takes a seat on the couch and crosses his legs. He was intrigued enough to continue the conversation and ask you more questions. “What are the traditions?” He asks curiously.

“Traditionally, you would ask someone to be your Valentine, and that’s the person you want to spend the day with,” you answer with a small shrug, trying to explain a holiday you’ve never had to explain before. “Some people have it easy and they ask their significant other, and if you don’t have one, you ask someone you’re romantically interested in to be your Valentine. Then you give each other gifts, like chocolates or flowers, anything really that’s romantic and you go out on a date, like a nice dinner but it doesn’t have to be. That’s the basic gist.”

“Thank you, (y/n),” Loki said, mulling over your explanation. “You’ve been helpful, as always. Tell me, who’s your Valentine?”

“I don’t have one,” you answered honestly. The only time you really celebrated was when you had been with someone. You’d never really participated otherwise. You planned to just spend the night alone or with Nat if she also didn’t have plans and probably watch a movie- most definitely Pride and Prejudice.

“Shame,” Loki said with a tsk. “Perhaps, if you would be interested, you could be my Valentine?”

“Really?” you ask, honestly surprised.

“I actually like the idea of the day,” Loki shrugged. “And I don’t know many people, people seem to hate me on this planet- no idea as to why. You’ve always been kind to me, and you are the most tolerable person I’ve encountered on this planet.”

“That’s oddly very kind of you,” you say with a chuckle. “I appreciate the sentiments. Um, yes. I’d be happy to be your Valentine.”

“Excellent,” he grinned. He clapped his hands together and stood up. “Splendid. I’ll ask Thor to help me plan something.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you smile, picking up your paperwork again as Loki heads off to find his brother.

***

“Brother,” Thor’s voice echoed in the training room. “Spar with me?”

“As much as I would love to,” Loki said sarcastically, “I need your help with something I need to plan.” Loki walked over to the side of the mat where Thor had been training with Captain Rogers.

“Plan what?” Captain Rogers asked curiously. It was an innocent enough question but Loki took it as Rogers insinuating his distrust in him. Of course, Loki can’t blame the man but it did rub him the wrong way.

“If you must know Captain Rogers, I’m making plans for this upcoming Valentine’s Day,” Loki said matter-of-factly. “I’m sure since you have quite the active love life recently, your words of wisdom are probably of infinite value.”

“You can learn a thing or two from me,” Steve retorted as he put the punching bag beck into place. “But I don’t like your attitude.”

“I don’t know how I’ll ever manage without you,” Loki scoffed. He turned his attention back to his brother. “I need help to determine where I should take (y/n) and what I should get for a present.”

“(y/n) agreed to this?” Thor asks, his eyebrows raised in confusion. Rogers kept his mouth shut, deciding to see where this conversation will go before

“Yes, brother. I asked (y/n) to be my Valentine as stated by tradition and they said yes.”

“Ah! Good for you, brother!” Thor exclaimed, happily. “I’m glad you’re immersing yourself in the Midgard culture.”

“Yes, yes,” Loki waved him off, “Now, please, tell me what I should do.”

“I’ve never celebrated Valentine’s Day,” Thor says with a shrug and a sympathetic look. “I haven’t had much opportunity to explore the culture. Every time I’m on this planet I’m a little busy preventing its destruction. Perhaps Rogers can help you?”

Loki let out an exasperated sigh. He avoided Rogers as he knew the man had such a smug look on his face. Loki refused to give him the satisfaction. However, he realized that wouldn’t be fair to you. Rogers not only knew what to do, but he was also close friends with you. He quickly realized if he wanted to celebrate with you properly, he’d need to rely on the infamous super soldier.

“Captain Rogers,” Loki said with a charismatic smile, turning back to the man. “I wholeheartedly apologize for my lack of… social niceties. If you’d be willing to help me, to ensure your dear friend enjoys the holiday, I would be sincerely grateful.”

“Only because of (y/n),” Rogers says skeptically, waving a finger at Loki. “They deserve to enjoy their time and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you screw up their evening.”

“What a loyal friend.”

Years later, the Avengers would still talk about the fact Loki cared about you so much, he sought out advice from Captain America and Thor. And as Captain America said, he helped Loki with every last detail and Steve never let Loki forget it.

***

Loki had told you that he’d come to your room to get you at 6 o’clock Sunday evening. He wore clothes he had picked out, black dress pants, a white button-down shirt and shiny, black dress shoes. He had kept the last button of the shirt unbuttoned and he had rolled the sleeves up, a styling tip he had gotten from Thor. He had his long hair gelled back and tamed, ignoring Captain Roger’s horrible suggestion for a haircut. He felt very weird not wearing any green, but he took the advice he was given on his ensemble.

You were just putting on your shoes when he knocked at your door Sunday promptly at 6pm. Of course, Loki would be very punctual. You gave yourself one more quick once more in the mirror in your room before heading to answer the door.

You kept your appearance simple, sticking to how you usually styled your hair. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you quickly opened the door, your jacket in hand.

“Wow,” you say with a grin, when you take in Loki’s appearance. “You look very nice.”

“You look stunning,” Loki said, his eyes widening, taking in your appearance. The compliment made you have butterflies.

“Thank you,” you said with false confidence. Underneath, you were a nervous wreck as you took the arm that he extended to you.

“So,” Loki began to walk down the hallway with you. “Apparently, this planet has something called reservations, and anyone who tries to get one a few days before Valentine’s Day is a “moron,” according to a very rude young man I had the pleasure of speaking with- the first time using a phone too on top of that. So, I hope you don’t mind if the evening is a little… makeshift.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” you reassure him. You feel him relax slightly. You found how hard he was trying so endearing.

Where else did he bring you but just down the hall to the living room. At night with the lights dimmed, combined with Natasha’s homemade decorations, it actually looked quite beautiful. He had decorated with an eclectic array of candles as well that covered most surfaces of the room. It also looked like he had swiped every throw pillow in the whole compound and had them arranged the coffee table in the center of the room.

“Did you do all of this?” You ask in awe.

“Yes,” he replied, just watching you. “Do you like it?”

“It’s perfect.”

“I had to make my own version of advice I received,” he disclosed to you. You sat opposite each other on either side of the coffee table, you kicked off your heels and he did the same with his shoes. “Captain Rogers said- and I’m trying my best to quote verbatim, ‘You need to show a special someone a good time if you care about ‘em . You gotta take ‘em to dinner and dancing.’” He even mimicked Steve’s voice perfectly. It made you laugh.

“I can’t believe you subjected yourself to Steve for me, I’m touched,” you smiled. “I mean I love Steve,” you continue, “But I can’t imagine you too being best friends anytime soon.”

“No, I suppose we probably won’t be,” Loki chuckles.

“I hate to point it out,” you continue, “but I think you missed both the dinner part and the dancing part of that plan.” Loki smirked and when you blinked, he transformed the whole room.

“Did I?” he asks, with an eyebrow raised. You gasp, looking around the room you were now in. You knew it was an illusion, but it felt very real. The atmosphere, the breeze coming in from the large bay windows that weren’t there before. The coffee table now a table now one of many dining tables in an incredibly high-end restaurant. The table had food, and a bottle of wine. You were stunned. There was a live band and other couples in other tables and out on the dancefloor.

“Loki?” You exclaimed, looking around at your new surroundings. It was amazing. You couldn’t believe the magic right before your eyes. Of course, you knew it was just one of his tricks, but it felt so incredibly real. You picked up your fork and took a bite of the food in front of you. It was incredible, you questioned if you were even eating.

“It’s real,” Loki said, like he could read your mind. Honestly, he had only just anticipated your next question. “I made it. Well, I made it with Friday’s supervision.”

“It’s fantastic! I can’t believe you went through all this trouble just for me.”

“Sweetheart, you are very much worth it- worth much more than this,” he responded casually, throwing in the term of endearment to see how you’d react. He caught the way it made you smile.

You continued to talk for a little while, and shared stories. You were worried that compared to his life on Asgard, he’d find your stories incredibly boring and mundane. It seemed to be the opposite. His attention was only on you and he held on to every word you said. He created this elaborate setting just to keep you the center of his attention.

“Should we dance?” He asks suddenly, a glimmer in his eye. You looked down apprehensively.

“I’m not really a dancer,” you tried to insist.

“Do you actually not want to dance, darling? Because if so, I will not bring it up again,” he says earnestly, “But, if you’re saying no because you’re afraid I’m going to judge you, I honestly can promise you I would never dream of doing so.”

You give it another moment to ponder over his words. You were taken aback at how well he seemed to know how you were thinking. You let out a sigh of defeat, and smile. “I’d love to,” you reply.

He stands up and offers you his hand. His smile is enough to make you weak at the knees. You take his hand and he leads you over to the dancefloor as the band starts playing its next song. “Does that singer sound like Elvis?” You ask, the small glitch in the illusion throwing you off for only a moment.

“I don’t know who that is,” Loki says with a laugh. He pulls you in close and rests one hand on the small of your back and the other grasps your hand close. You wrap your other arm around his shoulder. You are both pressed up incredibly close to one another. You rest your head on his chest comfortably, and you can’t see how much the action makes his whole face go red. Guiding your movements together, it mostly just swaying in place. The steps were small, and with the music playing for the two of you.

“This place is incredible,” you sigh happily looking up at him. “But I think I liked the first place a little better.”

He nodded in agreement and you got to watch a green hue encompass the walls of the restaurant as they almost melted away, and everything around the two of you just fade away. The sconces on the walls, revealed themselves to be the candles that cluttered the living room and the couples evaporated with the green mist. The table you had both sat at, turned back to the coffee table but the empty plates remained. The elaborate statues that surrounded the room turned into the furniture you knew well, and then the live band faded away to reveal Steve’s record player indeed playing a 45 of Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley.

When the room finished revealing its true appearance to you, you laid your head back on Loki’s chest and mumbled that now it was perfect. He smiled to himself, thinking about how without a doubt in his mind, Valentine’s Day is his absolute favorite holiday on Midgard. He now couldn’t believe this reality was real. If he wasn’t holding you, he’d pinch himself. You were here, with him, in his arms, dancing in the middle of the living room on this godforsaken planet.

“(y/n)?” he whispered softly as the song was coming to an end.

“Mhmm?” You responded, your eyes closed, really just basking in the feeling of being so close to him and the smell of his cologne.

“Will be mine?” He asks carefully, remembering the phrase from Captain Roger’s advice. That phrase apparently being very important if today went well and he wanted to ask you to “go steady.” You chuckled softly, hearing Steve’s influence in the phrase.

“I would love to,” you say with a shy smile looking back up to him. He beams, incredibly happy you said yes. Swept up in his emotions, he swiftly leans down and presses his lips to yours capturing them in a passionate first kiss.

“Oh gross!” You hear someone exclaim, making you both pull away. It’s Tony- who was currently holding his side in pain as Pepper elbowed him in the side.

“You really had to do that?” she chastised him, rolling her eyes and giving an apologetic look to you and Loki before pushing Tony down the hallway to give you both your moment back, as sullied as it had become thanks to Tony.

“I never gave Rock of Ages permission to be… lovey dovey in my building! (y/n) you can do so much better than that greaseball!”

“I’m so sorry,” she said embarrassed by his outburst, ushering him out as quickly as possible.

Loki turns his head back to you, immediately after they are out of view. “Where were we, darling?” He smirks, pulling you in for another kiss.

[annab-nana]

It’s Just Not My Thing - Peter Parker

Empire State University looks like the epitome of all things Valentine’s Day which just so happened to be your least favorite holiday. In fact, you hated the day and with good reason, so Peter plans something special to get you away from all the love and hearts.

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day @jellyfishbeansontoast! This is my gift to you from @killingbxys and @earthlyholland’s Valentine’s Day Fic Exchange! I tried to add little details about you that I’m sure you’ll notice hehe and side note: this is the longest thing I have ever written so I really hope you guys like it!

Warnings: some curse words

Word Count: 12.3k+ (kinda sorry, kinda not)

--------------------------------------------------

“God, it looks like Cupid threw up here,” you groaned as you looked around at the campus that surrounded you when you and Peter walked out of the main science building. Splashes of red and pink and small bits of purple littered the outsides of all the buildings around Empire State University and the walkways were heavily decorated as well.

“Yeah,” Peter chuckled from beside you when he caught sight of the disgusted face you made on upon noticing the immense amount of love-centered holiday décor. “ESU really outdid themselves,” he mentioned, his brown eyes falling upon the pink and red twinkly lights that were twisted together and spiraling around the trees. Heart-shaped balloons swung beside the entrance of the dorm across the way. People had drawn on the sidewalks with chalk several little hearts and flowers, words of love written in the same hues as everything else. Even in the water fountain at the center of everything, they had turned the lights pink giving the water a rose tint.

“A little too much,” you shuddered after speaking. Valentine’s Day was very obviously not your cup of tea when it came to holidays. You never understood why people needed a whole day to show their love and appreciation for their significant other when it was really something you should be showing your person every day. It also bothered you a little because you never had someone to show all your love to on the damned day of hearts and flowers. The one time you had a boyfriend for a long period a couple years ago, you two broke up on February 13th so that only further encouraged your hatred for the day. “I think I’m gonna puke.”

Peter chuckled from your side at your dramatics, amused by your clear disdain for all things red and pink that surrounded you as you walked. That was one thing he loved about you. You always brought a smile to his face no matter what you did. He could come to you after a stressful week of tests or after a bad night on patrol and you would make him laugh and feel better within seconds. You did not even have to say anything. Maybe it was just your aura or your presence, but it made his mood rise tenfold.

“Why do you hate Valentine’s Day so much anyway?” he inquired. You two had only become friends since college, meeting in your biology class last semester after you asked if someone was sitting in the free seat next to him on the first day. Sitting next to each other led to snide remarks about your professor to each other and asking questions when things didn’t make sense. One day, he asked if you wanted to study with him for the first test at the library and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to spend more time with the cute curly-headed boy from your biology class. That opened the door to more study sessions and then sometimes y’all would study at the coffee shop across the street. Soon those turned into hanging out at the coffee shop and somewhere along the line, you two became really good friends.

“Valentine’s day just isn’t really my thing, you know bad experiences and all. I also don’t really like how it’s being shoved down our throats,” you told him simply, gesturing to the sheet signs that some of the sororities had made and hung up. You shrugged slightly before speaking once more. “I just don’t like it.”

Peter nodded slowly and you could visibly see the gears turning in his mind. You really knew he was thinking hard when he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue and his cinnamon brown irises danced around at everything in front of him. His eyebrows drew together as you both continued your walk to the coffee shop, and you could not watch him anymore without knowing what was going on in that big, beautiful brain of his.

“What’re you thinkin’ about, Parker? I’m scared you’re gonna exert yourself if you think any harder,” you giggled when the words fell from your lips. He let his lip go from its captivity between his pearly whites and his eyes found you again, his signature smile showing on his face.

“I just had an idea,” he mentioned before leaning across you to press the button on the pole to signal traffic that you two were about to walk across the street as soon as the light changed. It was your turn to furrow your brows, but you did it in confusion instead of hard thinking.

“And would you like to share what it was or leave me in mystery?” you inquired with a quirked brow. He playfully rolled his eyes at you before beginning with his idea.

“So, this is just a thought and we don’t have to if you don’t want to, but what if we got out of the city for the weekend?” he proposed before he noticed the light change from an orange hand to the white outline of a man, signaling him that it was okay to walk. He looked both ways still before his hand found your lower back and he guided you across the street with him.

“Just you and me? Why?” you questioned further as you tried to ignore the warmth you felt inside you at the small but kind action he had just shown you.

“Well, you obviously hate Valentine’s Day so we could get away from all this stuff,” he told you as he gestured back towards the floral-colored campus that sat on the other side of the street.

“That I do,” you nodded in agreement as Peter pushed the door open for you and let you go in first. The overwhelming scent of coffee hit your nostrils like a train when you fully entered the building, Peter close behind. The coffee shop was always slightly busier on Friday’s but today was a bit much. The line was basically backed up to the door, leaving you and Peter squished against each other and the door. Somehow, y’all’s favorite spot in the corner was still available. “Do you want to stay here or go to the library?”

“We can stay if you want. You can go ahead and sit down so no one else steals our spot and I’ll get our drinks,” Peter suggested into your ear after you turned in the small space to face him properly.

“Okay, I want a-” you started but your words were cut off by the boy with who you were sharing your personal space at the moment.

“A hot chocolate with no whipped cream with those little marshmallows on top. I know. I got it,” he chuckled as his hand rested on your shoulder for a second. “Now go sit down before someone takes our spot.” You rolled your eyes at him before turning around and sitting in your seat, placing your book bag in the opposite place just in case someone tried to sit with you.

A few moments later after you and Peter shared a few glances while he waited in the lengthy line, he finally got to the counter and began to order your beverages. You had pulled out your laptop to see what all you needed to do over the weekend and surprisingly, there was not that much to do in comparison to the last few weeks that had been hell and you never really caught a break. Now it looked like you might be able to take a breather and do something fun rather than being holed up in your room writing a paper or studying for a test. All you had to do before Monday was two quizzes and a quick essay and you would be all done.

“Your hot chocolate ma’am,” Peter spoke jokingly as he presented the heated beverage to you. You rolled your eyes, taking the cup and setting it on the table.

“Shut up and sit down, Parker,” you quipped before moving your book bag so that he could do as you asked of him. He smiled at you and took the seat that he always sat in every time you both came to the small coffee shop.

“I don’t even know why you come to a coffee place so often if you don’t like coffee,” Peter mumbled as he took a small sip of his drink, grimacing as he pulled away when the caffeinated liquid was too hot to handle at the moment.

“For starters, that bean juice is disgusting. I don’t know how you drink it. Secondly, it doesn’t do anything for me as far as waking me up or getting me energized. Third, they make really good hot chocolate. And lastly, this is our spot, Peter. Of course I am going to come here all the time,” you informed him while you opened up a blank document on your computer, setting the font to Times New Roman, twelve-point, and making sure it was double spaced before you began typing your two-page essay on why technology is important and how it helps us every day. “Tell me more about this idea you were talking about earlier.”

“Oh yeah.” The boy across from you perked up and took another sip of his drink, forgetting that it was still too hot and burned his tongue. “So, this is what I was thinking. We finish all our schoolwork so that we have all weekend free. We can get out of here and find some place to explore, you know? Like we could find a hotel and just look around and go to new places. It would distract you from all the Valentine’s Day stuff and we could use the break from school since we’ve both been so busy lately.”

“I like that. Let’s do it! All I have is this small paper, our chemistry quiz, and a trig quiz and it shouldn’t take me more than a couple of hours,” you said with a smile, excited for this weekend trip with your best friend and away from all things Valentine’s and school-related.

“I just have the chem quiz that I was waiting to do with you, so I can look for a place to go and a hotel,” he stated while sipping on his now cooled down coffee.

“Sounds like a plan.” So, then the searching began. You’d glance up at him from time to time to see his eyes trained on his computer screen, nodding his head as he read whatever information he was taking in from the device. The way his eyebrows were furrowed and how focused his brown eyes were on his laptop was a little funny to you, but you also thought it was cute. While you were watching him, his eyebrows shot up and his eyes diverted to you. “What?”

“I found the perfect place,” he told you with a big grin.

“Well tell me where, you idiot,” you chuckled but he shook his head, not quite ready to give you that information just yet.

“No, it’s a surprise,” he spoke softly as he typed at his keyboard. He then pulled out his phone to dial a number and put it up to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” you pondered aloud, tilting your head at him.

“There are two hotels near there so I’m calling one right n- Hi, I was wondering if you have any rooms open for this weekend.” He paused to let the person on the other end talk but based on the way his shoulders slouched, you could tell that this one was a bust. “Okay, that’s fine. Thank you. You have a nice day.”

“No luck?” you asked though you knew the answer. He shook his head at you before looking back at his computer screen. “You going to call the other one?”

“Yep,” he sighed as he brought his phone back up to his ear and waited for someone to pick up. “Yes, hi. I was wondering if you had any rooms available for the weekend.” He shot you a smile when you heard the mumbles of whoever was on the other line, so you assumed it was good news. “Yes, it is two people, and we will be staying tonight, tomorrow night, and Sunday night.” You heard more mumbles from the other end before Peter’s voice cut them off. “Okay, we will take it! Thank you, sir.”

“That went a lot better,” you chuckled at the boy’s wide grin.

“Yeah and we’re lucky too because he said that was the last room they had.” You nodded at him as you finished up your paper.

“Proofread this for me? You always catch things I don’t,” you asked him when you turned your laptop towards him. He gladly took it and quickly skimmed over it, typing here and there at your misspellings or overbearing use of commas that he always picked on you about.

“Looks good. Ready for the chem quiz?” You nodded your head as you both opened the quiz and began to take it together.

...

“So, we’re leaving tonight?” you asked Peter as you both left the coffee shop after being there for a few hours. The sun was beginning to set behind the buildings of ESU and it made the campus look so pretty from across the street where you two stood, waiting your turn to cross.

“Yeah, we’re gonna go to our dorms, pack enough for a few days, then we’ll leave. It’s about two hours outside of the city so we will get there at around ten if we leave within the next hour and we’ll probably stop somewhere for dinner too.” You nodded along to Peter’s words as his hand found your lower back again to lead you across the street when the light changed.

“You’ve got this all figured out, don’t you Pete?” you grinned at the boy while walking next to him as you two approached the central water fountain, the lights illuminating it an even brighter shade of pink in the darker time of day.

“Of course I do. Anything for my best girl,” he chuckled when his arm slipped around your shoulders and pulled you into him. That nickname didn’t come often but it always brought butterflies in your tummy, but you knew there was nothing really to it. Did you really want something more with your best friend? Yes and no. You didn’t see a future with anyone else, but he’s your best friend and you also couldn’t see him and you in a romantic kind of relationship. Well, you could but you didn’t think it would ever happen, so you’ve pushed it into the depths of your mind.

After passing all the lovey-dovey shit that somewhat led to this whole weekend getaway, you both made it back to the dorms. You both went up to the fourth floor and parted ways at the elevator since your dorms were in different directions. Upon entering your room, you quickly emptied your bookbag of all its books and school things so that you could put some clothes in it.

“What are you doing?” your roommate, Raelyn, asked as she leaned against your door frame.

“Peter and I are going on a trip for the weekend,” you told her before you walked past her to get to the sink, grabbing your toothbrush and other things you needed from that area.

“Ooo where to?” she perked up. She was always so interested in your relationship with Peter, waiting for you and him to finally get together. She honestly thought you two were together a long time ago but was disappointed when she found out that you were not.

“I don’t know. He said it’s a surprise. All I know is that it’s about two hours outside the city and there are two hotels near it,” you filled her in as you packed the items that were just in your hands into the smaller pocket on your bag.

“A surprise trip where you stay in a hotel with Peter?” she gushed while wearing the biggest grin.

“Calm down, Rae. It’s just me and Peter going to explore some place to get away from school and all this Valentine’s shit and speaking of Valentine’s, what are you and Florence going to be doing?” You changed the subject effectively and watched the girl’s cheeks flush at the mention of her lovely girlfriend. They have been together for a few months now and this was their first Valentine’s Day together, so you knew she was excited. The girl loved love and she loved Florence, so this was perfect for her.

“We’re going to recreate our first date,” she spoke softly as she watched you go into the bathroom to get your shower things.

“Didn’t y’all do like a cute little picnic on a cliff and stargaze and stuff? Flo’s gonna love that,” you grinned at Rae while she childishly bit at her bottom lip to keep her smile from growing too big.

“Yeah, she’s making chocolate covered strawberries and I’m gonna go down to her favorite bakery and get some goodies as well. It’s gonna be a night to remember for sure,” she giggled before tucking some loose strands of her dark hair behind her ear. “I was actually putting together a little scrapbook for her when I heard you come in, so I’ll let you finish packing for your Valentine’s trip with Peter-“

“It’s to get away from Valentine’s, Rae,” you corrected her as she playfully rolled her light-colored eyes at you.

“Anyway, I am going to get back to what I was doing, and you have fun with Peter. Be safe and use protection!” she shouted when she went back to her room.

“We won’t need it!” you yelled right back.

“Y/n, you dirty girl!” she joked, causing you to groan and roll your eyes.

“Not like that, you dumbass. You are starting to sound like his aunt!” She just laughed in return and you finished your packing when you heard a knock at the door. “I’ll get it!” you shouted as you slung your bag onto your shoulder.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Peter asked when your eyes met his. You nodded your head before turning to say goodbye to Rae.

“Bye Rae. Have fun with Flo this weekend.” You shot her a wink and she giggled as she taped a heart to the corner of a picture of the two together on the page of the scrapbook she was currently working on. “You too! Bye y/n. Bye Peter!”

“Bye Rae!” Peter said loudly before you shut the door behind you and followed him out.

...

“How much longer?” you asked, getting antsy. It was almost ten and you really wanted to know where you would be spending your weekend.

“Like ten minutes. Chill out and eat your pringles,” he chuckled as he pointed to the green can of pringles that he had gotten you earlier when he stopped for gas. You huffed before grabbing some chips, placing a few in his opened hand, and keeping some for yourself. Peter kept one hand on the wheel while he munched on the chips you had given him in his other hand. You capped the can of pringles and leaned your head against your seatbelt a little.

“Okay, we’re here,” Peter told you as he lightly shook your shoulder since you were nearing sleep. You stirred a little, looking over to him while he unclicked his seatbelt and leaned over to do yours as well.

“Thanks,” you mumbled before bringing your hands up to your eyes to wipe the small bits of tiredness out of them, ignoring the slight fluttery feeling that took over your stomach at Peter’s action. You got out, slipping on your jacket that you were using as a blanket in the car to shield yourself from the crisp air of the cold February night. Both of you grabbed your bags from the back seat before Peter locked the car behind him and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him to provide some warmth for you both.

The hotel looked more like a large home or mansion, older looking too but it had a charm to it. It gave off a cozy and welcoming feel and you have not even entered its doors yet. Peter pushed the door to it open and let you in first, him following soon after. It looked even more comforting and homey on the inside as well. It was clearly a family business as there were family pictures hung upon the wall and the couches that sat around a small coffee table reminded you of your grandparent’s house, making you feel more at home.

“Hi, how can I help you?” the sweet voice of an older lady broke you from your thoughts when you looked over at her. She wore a pale yellow apron tied around her waist and a gentle smile upon her lips. You sent her a kind grin as well before Peter turned to you.

“You go sit down. I know you’re tired. I’ll handle this, okay?” You nodded at his words, an insuppressible yawn escaping your lips when you turned to go sit on one of the couches you noticed earlier and resting your head on your hand.

“Hi,” Peter started as he walked up to the front desk that the lady stood behind. “I talked on the phone earlier with a man. He said there was a room available for two.”

“Oh yes, that was George. Let me go get him right quick.” Peter nodded nicely at the woman before she left through a door behind the desk. He turned around to look at you close to sleep again. He didn’t notice the small smile that crept onto his face, but it was definitely there.

“He will be right here in just a second,” the woman spoke softly when she noticed the way Peter was looking at you. “She’s as cute as a button that girl. I’m sure you love her very much.” His head tilted slightly as to what the lady was referring to, but he shook it off.

“Yeah, I do.” He meant it in a friendly way, but the woman clearly thought he meant romantically based on her next words.

“Y’all make an adorable couple. I’ve loved seeing young lovers pass through here over the years. It’s cute.” Before Peter could protest her words, a man, George assumingly, walked in through the door that the lady went through earlier.

“Mr. Parker?” he asked as he searched on his computer for a moment.

“Yes, that’s me,” he chirped, feeling slightly awkward about the woman’s assumptions but did not let it bother him too much. Of course, Peter loved you and he would love to love you in that way, but something always held him back. Fear probably as he wouldn’t dare risk losing you as a best friend. You’re his whole world and if he confessed how he felt and it ruined your relationship, he would hate himself for it.

“Alright, you paid online, and everything is set for you. Here is the key and we hope y’all have a nice stay,” he grinned while passing over the key that had a red heart attached to it. So much for staying away from Valentine’s related things. The heart read ‘214’ so Peter took that as the room number.

“Thank you and have a nice night,” Peter returned the politeness back before turning to go get you. The sight of you sleeping was absolutely adorable to him and made his heart soar. You had shifted from leaning on your hand to hugging your book bag and leaning against that instead. He hated that he had to wake you up when you looked so precious.

“Hey, y/n,” he whispered when he crouched down in front of you and lightly shook your arm. You stirred awake, your tired eyes meeting his big brown ones, and hummed in response. “I’ve got the key. Let’s go upstairs and you can go back to sleep.” You nodded as you stood and stretched before slipping your bag back onto your arm.

“Good night you two! Y’all have fun,” the kind woman you smiled at earlier spoke softly as she shot you a wink and waved you two off. You and Peter both waved back to her and sent sweet smiles her way before you headed up the stairs, choosing to ignore her playful but peculiar gesture. After making it to the second floor, you let Peter lead the way as you leaned into him, his arm where it always was wrapped around your shoulders.

“Okay, I think this is it,” Peter announced when stopping in front of a door numbered 214. You yawned and nodded while watching him fiddle with the key that had a heart charm dangling from it. You found it to be quite cute, just another little thing to add to the allure of this whole hotel. After a second, Peter finally turned the key and opened the door, letting you go in first like the gentleman he always was. He stepped in behind and flipped on the light switch, illuminating the room that was decorated in a way you both least expected.

You busted out laughing at the sight before you. A rather large white circular bed sat against the wall which was normal, but the rose petals that littered the sheets were far from what you were thinking when it came to sharing a hotel room with Peter. Red curtains covered the windows, a large red chair sat in the corner by a tv, and candles sat on the bedside tables. The light that Peter had turned on was quite dim compared to normal lights but was perfect to set the mood for a couple looking to have a fun night which you and Peter were not. You turned to look at Peter whose cheeks were the reddest thing in the room and only laughed a little harder, tears springing to your eyes.

“Y/n, I am so sorry. I was trying to get you away from Valentine’s stuff, not bring you somewhere intended for it. God, I am an idiot. I’m so sorry, you gotta believe me,” he rambled on as you gripped onto his arm to steady yourself, your laughter making your knees weaker. You leaned your head against his shoulder, continuing to giggle but also trying to calm yourself down.

“P-Peter,” you stuttered through chuckles and took a deep breath to calm your laughter before looking up at him. “Peter,” you repeated a little more seriously and stared into his eyes with your tear-filled ones. You could tell he felt so bad, but you did not mind the room that much. It was really funny to you honestly. “It’s okay. This is okay. It’s hilarious actually so lighten up and laugh about it, but this is alright. We needed a place to sleep and this works so we’re good.”

“People have probably had sex on that bed,” he groaned before his eyes flickered over towards the petal-covered sheets and then back to you.

“People would have fucked on any bed at any hotel. Did we get the bed that a lot more people have probably had sex on? Yes, but I’m sure they changed the sheets and cleaned up.” Peter shuddered at your words before pouting again. “What?”

“I feel bad,” he muttered as he looked around at the room and then back to you, the girl who wanted to get away from campus because it looked similar to this. You sighed before wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug, nuzzling your head under his chin.

“It’s okay, Pete. It doesn’t bother me, and we only have to sleep here. We have got a whole place to explore tomorrow and Sunday, right? So, don’t worry about the room. So far, it has been the highlight of my trip,” you told him before lifting your head up to look at him, a grin on your lips.

“You’re the best, you know that?” he mumbled, squeezing you tighter against him.

“Yeah, I know,” you joked just to hear his amused giggle, making your words worth it.

“Are you okay sleeping together or I can sleep in the big chair if you want?” Peter asked when he pulled away from you. You rolled your eyes at the boy before you.

“Peter, we’ve slept together on those tiny ass twin beds in the dorms. I think we can handle sharing the bed. It’s much bigger and probably much more comfortable as well,” you mentioned as you walked to the bed and sat your bag down on it, ruffling through your things to find your charger. “Unless you’re scared of the sex that’s been had on it,” you teased, wiggling your brows at him tauntingly, “then the chair is all yours.”

“Shut up,” he quipped when he followed your actions and rummaged through his bag for his clothes. “Are you showering tonight or in the morning?”

“The morning. I am too tired to shower right now,” you spoke and yawned as if on cue.

“Great so I’m spending the night with a stinky girl,” he joked while your jaw dropped.

“I do not stink,” you playfully pouted while slipping your hefty jacket off your arms.

“Well,” he shrugged as if he was trying to tell you that you really smelled bad without hurting your feelings.

“Peter!” you frowned, crossing your arms in front of you.

“I’m kidding, y/n. You always smell nice,” he reassured as he collected his clothes and walked towards the bathroom before shutting the door behind him. You took the opportunity to pull out your pajamas which was an ESU sweatshirt and some pink pajama pants you had stolen from Peter. As soon as you heard the water start, you changed and pushed the rose petals to the side, letting them fall to the floor before you hopped in bed and got comfortable under the covers. Though for some reason, you were not as tired as you were previously and couldn’t just fall asleep as easily, so you got on your phone for a moment. Not long after, the water shut off from in the bathroom and a damp, curly-headed Peter Parker emerged from its door.

“The bath is shaped like a heart,” Peter told you before he walked over to his bag to set his dirty clothes beside it.

“You’re kidding,” you giggled, setting your phone down next to you to properly look at him, his wet curls making you feel some type of way though you wouldn’t show that.

“I’m not,” he chuckled, running a light hand through damp hair. He walked over to the light switch to turn the dim light off before he walked back to the bed and climbed in next to you.

“You really got the lover’s suite, didn’t you? You know you could’ve just asked me to be your Valentine. I probably would’ve said yes,” you teased the boy who you laid beside, hearing an exasperated sigh leave his lips.

“It was the only room they had,” he protested while you turned to face him, though you could not see much in the darkness. “And probably? You better say yes if I were to ask you such a question.”

“I’d say yes, you dumbass. We were likely to spend Valentine’s Day together anyway. We’re together all the time,” you pointed out and he hummed in response.

“Yeah, you’re right, but you really aren’t mad about this? I planned this whole thing to get away from all the hearts and flowers and love and stuff,” he brought up, shifting in bed to face you as well. You could hear the worry in his tone, so you reached out your hand to find his and rubbed your thumb over his knuckles.

“You also said it was to get away from school and take a break. We’ve both been busy bees these last few weeks and we needed this, so don’t worry. The room is fine,” you spoke calmly. Though you could barely see in the dark, you could just hardly make out a smile on his face, or at least you could feel the presence of it.

“Now that I think about it, it makes a lot more sense as to why that lady downstairs thought we were a couple,” Peter thought out loud. You chuckled thinking about how she winked at you and told you to ‘have fun tonight’. Silence overcame you both and you let go of Peter’s hand to turn the other way to hopefully fall asleep.

“Hey y/n,” Peter mumbled after a while of no speaking.

“Yeah,” you whispered, tilting your head slightly towards him.

“Can I ask you something?” His words filled the void around you, and it was all you could hear. He sounded serious, but not like it was something about him but more of a curiosity question.

“Of course,” you muttered, laying on your back and facing the boy.

“Earlier when I asked why you hated Valentine’s Day so much, you mentioned something about bad experiences. Can I ask what that was?” You knew it was your curious Peter just asking a random question as it normally was, but you understood why he used an earnest tone.

“Yeah, I, uh, used to date this guy my senior year of high school and I was like head over heels for him. We had been dating for almost ten months and then the day before Valentine’s Day, I found out he cheated on me with my best friend at the time, so I lost the two people I loved and trusted most all in one day. The last few months of high school weren’t fun, and I was ready to get to college so I applied to ones that I knew they couldn’t get into. That led me to ESU and then I met you,” you explained, “and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”

“Oh y/n. I’m sorry about all that. I know that had to suck,” Peter softly spoke before his hand found yours to help comfort you this time.

“It’s okay. It was high school, so I kinda expected it to be hell. I was just lucky enough that I didn’t have to experience the hell of it until the very end. And on the bright side, I have you and Rae and Florence is becoming a good friend of mine too so it worked out for the better.” Peter repeated your actions from earlier and rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand in a soothing manner.

“Yeah, that’s a nice way to look at it,” Peter mumbled while drawing little circles into your skin. The motions of it had brought you a sense of great peace and comfort and were helping you feel sleepier. You were getting closer to a nice long slumber when you felt him pull his hand away.

“Wait, give me that back. It was helping me go to sleep,” you whined. Peter’s chuckle sounded throughout the room before his hand found yours again and began the circular motions with his thumb on your hand. With that, you were asleep in seconds.

...

You were slightly awakened when you felt something move on top of you. Then the fact that something moved on you made your eyes shoot open because last you checked you fell asleep with nothing on you, but now there was definitely something there. You also realized you felt something around you as well. When you opened your eyes, you saw the brown shade of Peter’s nest of curls resting on your chest and put together that he cuddled into you in his sleep. You lifted your head slightly to look at the clock that sat on his nightstand and saw that it was almost nine, so you decided to get up and shower, letting Peter sleep in a little longer. Slowly, you tried to slip out of his grasp without waking him, but as soon as you tried to move, his arms pulled you in tighter. Chuckling lightly to yourself, you tapped at his arm.

“Uh, Peter,” you whispered softly. He stirred a little but did not wake up. “Pete, I need to get up.” He squinted one eye open and saw what you were talking about.

“Oh yeah uh sorry,” he stammered while lifting his body off you. You smiled and rolled your eyes as you slipped out of the warmth and comfort of Peter and the bed to get some clothes for the day. Peter rubbed at his eyes before turning in the sheets, placing his face into the pillow, and trying to fall back asleep. Heading to the bathroom, you chuckled at the boy and opened the door. Once your eyes fell upon the heart-shaped bathtub that Peter was talking about last night, another giggle escaped you as you thought about the events that happened before you fell asleep. Only Peter Parker, the smartest person you know, would get the lover’s suite on a trip to get away from all that stuff.

“You ready?” Peter asked once you were all showered and dressed, appearing to be ready for the day that you knew nothing about.

“I think so,” you told him as you followed him out the door, shoving your phone into your jacket pocket.

“Good morning lovebirds. Did the lovely pair have a nice night?” the lady from the previous  night asked you both when she saw you two coming down the stairs.

“Yes, we did, Mrs. Milly,” you answered, completely disregarding the ‘lovebirds’ part, as you read the name that was printed on the different apron she was wearing today. “I love your name. I have a cat named Milly.”

“Aww thank you, but you can just call me Milly or Mildred. Whichever you prefer,” she spoke kindly as she sat in the desk chair.

“I like Mildred,” you mused, leaning against the counter.

“Thank you,” she grinned at you before she asked, “How long have you two been together?”

“Oh, we’re n-“ Peter started but you cut him off with the jab of your elbow into his side, the whole action being shielded from the older lady with the counter.

“Six months,” you answered before turning to Peter who gazed at you in confusion. “Isn’t that right, Pete?”

“Y-yes,” he agreed, nodding at Mildred. She smiled warmly at you both before speaking again.

“Well, I won’t keep you cuties any longer. Y’all probably have a whole day planned.”

“That we do. We’ll see you later, Mildred,” you told her as you and Peter both waved at her before leaving the cozy hotel.

“Uh what was that?” Peter asked as soon as you two got in the car.

“What? Why I elbowed you?” you questioned, reaching up to grab your seatbelt and clicking it in.

“Yeah, and why you pretended we were dating,” he stated while placing the keys in the ignition and turning them, the car roaring to life in response.

“Do you really want to explain to that poor old woman that you’re a dumbass who got that room for a weekend with his best friend?” He instantly saw your point and did not bother arguing any further. “Yeah, I also didn’t want to break her heart because she really seems to like us, even if that may be as a couple.”

“That makes sense,” he hummed, pulling out of the parking space and beginning to drive on the main road.

“So where to Parker?” you asked since you had literally no idea what he had planned for the day.

“Okay so there’s a little diner between here and the nearest town, so I was thinking we go to the diner for breakfast, then there’s a cool science museum that looked interesting and it has a planetarium too so we can check that out. There is a somewhat rundown mall that looked like something you’d really like. There’s a really pretty park too that we can go to. Does any of this sound good or should we go somewhere else?” Peter asked when you had stayed quiet throughout his whole explanation.

“No Pete, it sounds perfect. I’m really excited,” you said with the hugest grin on your face.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he chirped before further explaining some more things that y’all could do.

...

“The planetarium was the best part for sure,” you told Peter as you walked beside him in the mall he brought up earlier. There were a good bit of people there for a place that was considered to be rundown or abandoned, but it was probably just one of the attractions of this lovely town. While some of the shops were closed, others were open and the food court still had some running businesses as well. The whole building itself was older but the inside was pretty alive and well. It was an interesting sight to see. “So where do you want to eat for lunch?”

“You pick,” he stated quickly. He always let you pick, but this time you didn’t want to.

“No Peter. You have planned this whole trip and made me happy. You pick lunch at least and you know food’s on me since you paid for the hotel so don’t even try that.” He chuckled lightly at your words before his big brown eyes scanned his options for your next meal. His options were limited to a Chinese restaurant, a pizza place, and a soup and sandwich spot.

“I think soup and sandwiches would be pretty good,” he mentioned as he met your eyes to see if you agree. With a quick smile and nod, it was evident that you did agree so the two of you walked toward the small soup shop and got in line behind a few other people.

“So, I was thinking that for the rest of the day, we could…” You let Peter’s words drown out as you looked around at the people that you could see outside of the window that showed the mall. Several different shoppers walked around the old place, but the back of someone in particular looked oddly familiar to you so your eyes darted to who they were talking to and that person was more familiar than you would have liked. The face of someone you had hoped you would never see again stood across the mall and your eyes basically bulged out of your head. On instinct, you grabbed Peter’s arms and shifted his body to stand between you and the guy, hoping he did not catch your gaze.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Peter’s soft and concerned voice broke through your thoughts for a moment before they resumed. How? How could this be happening? You tried so hard to get away from him? And of course, you would find him on the same day he broke your heart two years ago.

“I- yeah. I need to hide and it’s either you stand there and block me, or I go under that table,” you told him, giving him not a clue as to what was going on. Peter slowly turned his body to look at the source of the problem and you caught his eyes, the blue ones that you used to think everything of staring right back at you. “I used to eat playdough under the table as a kid,” you blurted out, your hand quickly slapping over your mouth at your sudden confession.

“What?” Peter mustered, a small smile cracking on his face in amusement.

“Sorry, I say random things when I’m nervous. You know that,” you reminded the curly-headed boy who stood before you with a teasing grin illuminating his features.

“I do know that, but seriously. Playdough?” You slapped at his chest when he laughed at your despair. Out the corner of your eye, you could see your ex and his friend wrapping up their conversation and it appeared like he was leaning towards your direction and anxiety filled you.

“Stop, this isn’t funny. Laugh about that later but right now I need a favor.” Peter’s giggles subsided at your serious tone and he was attentive to whatever you needed. “Act like my boyfriend.”

“What?” he questioned, dumbfounded with wide eyes.

“Just put your arm around me and make me laugh or something,” you instructed of him. Though it was normal for him to have an arm around you, he was a bit hesitant to it now but nonetheless, his arm found its normal spot around your shoulders, nice and friendly.

“No Peter. God, you’re helpless,” you sighed before you grabbed his hand that rested on your shoulder and placed it on your waist. A light dusting of red scattered upon Peter’s cheeks when you leaned your head on his shoulder and let out a sigh.

“He’s here. That guy I was looking at, that’s the reason I hate Valentine’s Day so much.” He nodded understandingly at your words when you looked up at him and his thumb absentmindedly began to rub against your waist, the minuscule action bringing you much comfort. On your way to put your head back down on his shoulder, your eyes caught the blue ones again and you saw him say goodbye to his friend and step in the direction of the soup shop. Your breath hitched and only one thing came to mind as a way to get him to leave you alone or give him some hint that you weren’t available.

“Peter, kiss me,” you half asked, half told him while his eyebrows shot up and brown eyes widened.

“Wha- y/n, I don’t know,” he stammered, gazing deeply into your eyes to make sure you were being completely sure about this, not joking or pulling some funny shit. “This doesn’t seem-“

“Shut up and kiss me,” you spoke sternly before your hand found his cheek, cupping his beautiful face. Your eyes darted between his for a bit of consent and he slightly nodded so you went for it. Your lips connected with his while his other arm wrapped around your waist as well, pulling your body closer to his. Your free hand found the nape of his neck, trailing upwards to thread your fingers through those soft brown locks of his. Kissing Peter was something you never really saw yourself doing, but it was nice. He was surprisingly good at it and he seemed to be enjoying himself as well.

“Next in line,” the man behind the counter repeated himself since you two were too involved with each other to hear him the first time. You both jumped apart, Peter too in a trance to understand what was happening while you grabbed his hand and walked up to the counter.

“Oh sorry, hi! Can I get a cup of broccoli and cheese soup and a grilled cheese? Peter, what do you want?” you asked him, lightly tugging at his hand that you held.

“Uhh,” he stammered as his eyes trailed over their menu but he couldn’t focused on reading the words after what had just happened. “I think I’ll have the same.”

After you ordered and paid, you two found a spot to sit and finally had to face what had just occurred. Peter’s eyes were trained on you while yours were darting all around to see if you could find your ex, but thankfully, the coast was clear.

“He’s gone,” you sighed before meeting Peter’s gaze. “Thank god, I hated that,” you chuckled before pulling out your phone to scroll mindlessly through it.

“I mean I didn’t think it was that bad, but it has been a while since I’ve kissed someone so I-“

“No Pete,” you breathily laughed. “I hated him being here, not the kiss. You aren’t half bad, Parker.” His cheeks tinted pink at the compliment and yours warmed up a fuzz as well. Before you two could continue the conversation, someone came up to your table with your food.

...

“You two must have had a busy day. I haven’t seen you two since nine this morning and it's almost eleven now,” Mildred stated warmly when you and Peter walked in through the front door, chuckling about a deer that was staring at him funnily before y’all came in.

“We did,” Peter grinned at the kind woman, walking behind you as you stepped up to the desk. It was something about this woman that you loved, and you felt like you could talk to her about anything. She just had a cozy aura about her that matched the hotel’s atmosphere perfectly.

“Yes, we did. We went to the science museum, the planetarium, the mall, a park, walked around the town a bit, and then we watched The Sound of Music at the theater,” you explained to Mildred.

“Oh, I love that movie,” she gushed with a wide grin, her eyes just as wide as she took in your words. You could tell she genuinely loved hearing about your day and she truly was a really sweet lady.

“She does too. It’s one of her favorites,” Peter spoke from beside you, your eyes meeting his when your lips curved upwards at his thoughtfulness.

“You both are so precious! And I am sure you are tired too, so I won’t keep you any longer. I should head to bed myself. Good night y’all,” Mildred told you, her words followed by a yawn as she stood from the desk chair.

“Good night,” you and Peter said simultaneously before Peter’s hand found the small of your back, leading you towards the stairs.

“I really like her,” you told Peter when you made it to the top of the staircase.

“Mildred? Yeah, she’s a nice lady,” Peter agreed as you both walked towards your room, his hand still guiding you there.

“She reminds me of a really nice grandma and it’s a plus that she has the same name as my cat,” you chuckled while Peter’s hand left your back to place the key in the door.

“We should go visit Milly some time. I haven’t seen her in a while,” Peter mentioned, swinging the door open and letting you in first.

“Yeah, I miss her and she probably misses you too. She really liked you and so did my dad which was surprising,” you chuckled before flopping down onto the circular bed, the replaced rose petals jumping up when your body hit the mattress.

“He did? He did not act like it. He actually scared me a bit,” Peter told you as his hands fumbled through the contents of his bag, looking for something to sleep in. You let out a yawn after nodding to answer his question. “I assume you’re showering in the morning again?”

“Yeah,” you yawned out as you rolled over to find yourself some pajamas. “Let me brush my teeth before you get in there, okay?”

“Okay, but you’ve got ten seconds,” Peter teased, eyes gauging your reaction.

“Not all of us have superpowers, dork. I can barely get my toothbrush ready in that time.”

“Twenty seconds,” he offered like that was somehow better and you rolled your eyes before walking into the bathroom.

“I’m gonna brush them slower than I ever have before, so you’ll just have to wait.” It was his turn to roll his eyes at you, knowing you were lying. While you glided the toothbrush over your teeth, you heard Peter yell something from in the bedroom.

“Ew!” he shouted and that was followed by the sound of something falling.

“What?” you asked while still brushing your teeth when you walked back into the room. Peter’s face showed nothing but pure disgust and a slight embarrassment as he pointed down into the open drawer of his nightstand. Your eyebrows furrowed when you walked over to the scene to see a pair of fluffy red handcuffs in the drawer. While laughing, you rolled your eyes at Peter. “You wanted the lover’s suite,” you joked, turning to go back to the bathroom.

“It was a mistake! He said they only had one room left and you would think on Valentine’s Day that this one would be taken but obviously not. I am never going to live this down, am I?” Peter exasperated as you finished up in the bathroom.

“Sorry Pete, but no. This is the funniest thing and I will never let it go. Wait until I tell Flash in physics Monday,” you told him while exiting the bathroom. He wore a frown when he passed you, trudging on his way to take a shower. Unlike the night before, you were able to fall asleep pretty quickly after you changed and got in bed.

...

This morning, you did not wake up with Peter on top of you. You were in fact cuddled into him, your arm around his torso and head against his chest, but you were far too tired to care or move.

“Are you awake?” Peter whispered upon feeling you move slightly.

“No,” you mumbled, hiding your face in his chest. His laughter sounded above your head before he spoke up again.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think our plans for today have been canceled. It is supposed to rain really badly all day like practically monsoon out there, so we’re stuck,” he muttered into the space around you. At that moment, you did notice the sound of the pattering rain outside the window.

“That’s okay. We can just have a movie day like we normally do on Sundays and we can sleep in a little more if that’s okay with you,” you spoke with your eyes closed, really dreading waking up since the comfort of the bed and Peter felt too good to leave.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” he softly spoke, his arm that sat around your waist tightening for a second.

“Do you want me to move?” you muttered before picking your head up to look at him. You knew your hair was all over the place, but you didn’t have a care at all for its tangled state. Peter’s lips turned upwards into a soft smile as his hand came up to push some of that hair behind your ear.

“I don’t mind. You can stay if you want,” his gentle voice spoke, calming and sweet. You nodded your head before laying your head back on his chest.

“Say less.”

After a few more hours of shut-eye, you finally got up since it was nearing lunchtime, but you made sure to leave Peter sleeping. You reached in your bag for those pringles from the other day and quietly tiptoed over to the large comfy chair to sit there and eat chips while you scrolled through TikTok, the volume incredibly low as not to wake him.

“You left me,” you heard Peter’s pouty voice speak from the bed. Your eyes shot up to meet his as you held up a chip.

“You were sleeping and I wanted to eat these without waking you.” Peter rubbed at his eyes and laid back down for a second before his legs swung over the bed’s edge, sitting up. He came to sit next to you, the chair just barely big enough for you both, and stuck his hand in the Pringles can. “Let me see,” he mumbled, referring to the TikTok you were watching so you shifted in the seat so that your back laid against his front, your head on his shoulder so you could watch the short videos together. The both of you seemed to be substantially clingy since waking up, but you both also didn’t mind it.

It had been about an hour or so of sitting there, eating chips, and laughing at tiktoks before one of you checked the time.

“Shit, it’s already one o’clock,” Peter mentioned as his eyes flittered back to you after looking at the clock.

“Really?” you asked before you checked the time on your phone. “I guess you’re right.”

“Are you hungry? I’m not after the pringles,” Peter asked as he looked down at you still rested against his shoulder.

“Yeah, me neither,” you added, “so we can stay in our pajamas a little longer.” You stood from the chair you shared with him and went to the window to look outside. “You weren’t kidding when you said it was gonna monsoon out here. It’s basically flooding,” you announced after pushing back the red curtains to get a better look. Peter hopped up and followed your previous footsteps, standing behind you and peering over your shoulder. A huff came from him before his head plopped onto your shoulder, you looking down at his grumpy expression and trying to suppress a giggle.

“Hey, it’s okay. We can have a super fun movie day. Cheer up buttercup,” you chuckled as you kissed his cheek. You had never done anything like that before with him but felt bold in the moment. It was just a harmless little kiss and meant nothing, so there was nothing wrong with it in your eyes. When you pulled away, he wore a face of pure surprise as he watched you walk over to the remote. “Let’s find something to watch and we can sit in the chair or lay around in the bed and it will be really fun, okay?” Reluctantly, the still-shocked boy nodded his head before crawling into the bed. You followed suit and channel surfed until you found a Star Wars movie, the perfect thing to lift his spirits.

About an hour into it, you were beginning to get cold. You started to realize why each of you gravitated towards the other the past two nights. It was to seek out warmth and now you really wanted to cuddle up next to him, but you felt weird for asking that and you definitely were not just going to do it on your own.

“Y/n, your teeth are fucking chattering. Get over here,” Peter spoke up at the perfect moment. You hesitated for like a second before sliding into his open arms and wrapping yours around his torso.

“My teeth weren’t chattering, asshole,” you quipped as you relaxed against his body, finally feeling warmer.

“No, but I could tell you were cold and I was a little too, so I decided to fix both our problems.” You giggled against his chest before your eyes settled back on the TV screen, watching Leia talk to her brother. After watching one of his favorite movies, y’all watched one of your favorite movies which was Harry Potter: Prisoner of Azkaban, and then a couple of Grey’s Anatomy episodes until you heard Peter’s stomach rumble beneath your ear.

“Maybe we should go get something to eat,” you suggested with a giggle as Peter’s cheeks reddened from embarrassment. “You could’ve told me you were hungry.”

“Yeah, but I know how much you love this show and I was going to wait until the end of this episode before saying something,” he told you while you sat up from his embrace. “Do you have anything in mind about what you want to eat?”

“Not really,” you answered when you stretched, reaching your arms up towards the ceiling. “All I know is that I don’t want to change, but I don’t want Mildred to pick on me for these,” you told him as you pointed to the pink pajama pants you have worn the last two nights.

“Hey, Mr. Stark got me those and you seemed to love them the one time you wore them so I gave them to you,” Peter explained as he sat up himself. “And I doubt she’d pick on you for those. She’d probably say you look cute in them or something.”

“She does think we are cute, doesn’t she?” you smiled, thinking of the nice old woman downstairs. “I’m gonna miss her.”

“I’m sure she’ll miss you too,” Peter chuckled at the fast connection you had made with the woman in a matter of a few short conversations.

“We should make this a tradition. Like every year on Valentine’s, go to a different place and explore or I would not mind coming here just so I could see Mildred and we could always get this room as a joke. I have had a lot of fun this weekend, Peter. This was a great idea,” you told him as you slipped your shoes on and Peter pulled on a dark blue sweatshirt over the hoodie he was already wearing.

“What would we do if we get boyfriends or girlfriends?” Peter inquired, grabbing his car keys.

“Go the weekend before or after. We will still be best friends, Parker,” you giggled at him after you put your coat on and followed him out the door.

“There you two are! I was beginning to think y’all passed out up there,” Mildred spoke as her eyes fell upon your outfits, Peter in a sweatshirt, hoodie, and sweatpants and you in your pajama pants, a sweatshirt, and your coat. “Well did y’all just wake up?”

“No ma’am,” Peter lightly laughed. “The rain kind of ruined our plans so we stayed in and watched movies and now we’re going to pick up something for dinner.”

“Oh, that’s nice! Y’all are just cute as a button in your pajamas. Y’all are probably starving so you two go ahead. I won’t keep you any longer,” Mildred spoke and shooed you two closer to the door. You both said your goodbyes before stepping out the door and onto the porch. Peter wrapped his arm around your shoulders, and you ducked your head into his chest before you both ran together towards his car.

“We never decided on where to eat,” you brought up as soon as you both were in the car.

“Oh yeah. What about pizza? Or burgers? Both sound really good right now,” Peter offered, his mouth practically watering before you at the thought of some food.

“Either sounds great to me.” So, he looked up which one was closer and drove to a local pizza parlor. The place was not but fifteen minutes away and since Peter called ahead as soon as you two got in the car, it was ready when you had arrived. All y’all had to do was pick it up and you did exactly that. Now, you were on the way back to the hotel and though you had a warm box of pizza resting in your lap, you were quite cold.

“Are you freezing?” you asked the driver whose brown eyes flickered to yours for a moment before finding the road again, squinting a bit to see through the heavy rain that persisted to fall.

“Yeah, a little.” At the same time, you and Peter both reached for the knob that controlled the temperature of the air that flowed through the vehicle, your hands brushing against each other. Immediately, you both retracted your hands and heat rushed to your cheeks. A second later, Peter reached out again and turned the knob to the right to get some warmer air.

“Um, I think we should talk about something,” the boy announced while something in the air shifted, feeling thicker and slightly more suffocating. You kept your eyes trained ahead of you as well before you spoke up.

“Uh, yeah. I guess we should.”

“Something has definitely changed between us this weekend. We don’t act like the same two best friends that we used to,” Peter mentioned, not sparing you a glance. You looked over at him to see his face, but not even his face showed you any indication of what was going through that pretty little head of his.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, trying to make the conversation a little more light-hearted and less serious. You didn’t see much of a big deal. Yes, you both had been clingier and you two shared a kiss, a damn good one at that, but that was to distract someone who had broken you with no remorse from coming your way. Peter, on the other hand, seemed to think there was more to this and his serious tone frightened you a tad, not really ever being so pensive about anything other than school. “I don’t see an issue.”

“So, you’re okay with cuddling and kisses and stuff like that?” The way he said that and gave you the most incredulous look made you feel as if your presence was not wanted by him. Maybe you were not wanted by him. It wouldn’t be a first in your life. No, your brain fought itself, he wouldn’t have planned all this for you if he didn’t love you.

“We only kissed once,” you stated while his normally soft brown eyes stared coldly through the windshield. “I’m sorry if I messed something up by doing that, but you didn’t exactly fight it, Peter.”

“No, that’s not- never mind that kiss, but the one this morning. You kissed me on my cheek.”

“Because you seemed upset!” your voice rose ever so slightly as you fought your point, a feeling you have never felt about Peter bubbling in your chest. It was a mixture of anger, hurt, and sadness. You were also growing annoyed with the conversation as a whole and were ready to get back to the hotel which was mere minutes away. “I didn’t think there was that much to it.”

“It’s not something friends do,” Peter argued not sparing you so much as a glance or some hint as to what he was trying to get at.

“Why do I feel like you are blaming me for how we’ve gotten closer over the past few days? You’ve been acting awful cozy as well,” you tried to calm your voice a little as you spoke, but you hated being blamed for things, especially stupid things like this. “We’re best friends, Peter. It’s okay to be a little closer than normal. It’s okay to cuddle, hold hands, or kiss each other on the cheek. I will admit that the kiss yesterday might have been a bit much, but all the other stuff is perfectly normal. I’ll back off if you want, but don’t come at me when you have been doing the same thing and initiating it sometimes too.”

“Those are things that couples do. I have never done that with my best friends. Granted, you’re my first girl best friend that isn’t terrified to touch or interact with another person, but that’s beside the point,” Peter said as he turned into the hotel lot and found a place to park. “I’ve only ever done this kinda thing with a girlfriend and we aren’t dating. I couldn’t date you, y/n.”

That last sentence struck a nerve in you. I couldn’t date you, y/n. Why the hell not? What was so wrong with you that he couldn’t date you? The words brought you back to a place you were a couple years ago when everything that made you hate today happened. You were so easily replaced by both your boyfriend and best friend. You were never really wanted around by them, and you hated yourself for not noticing sooner. Well, you did notice, but you had hope that it was all in your head until you were proved otherwise.

Was the same thing about to happen with you and Peter? Were you going to lose the only person outside of your family that you loved and spent all your time with? If he couldn’t date you, then how could he be your best friend? The two things were terribly similar with the only differences being sexual intimacy and a different kind of love. Peter was your soulmate for sure, maybe not romantically, though you had hoped otherwise, but he was meant to be with you. Now he did not seem to want to be near you.

You didn’t recognize it, but tears had pooled in your eyes, not yet fallen though. Your breathing felt different, quicker, and you felt like you were losing all that was important to you, him. You had always hoped that sometime in the future you and Peter would get together. You two had made a pact a while ago that if you hadn’t found someone by the age of twenty-six, you two would start dating and then get married within the following year or two. That idea was now seemingly being thrown out the window since he couldn’t date you.

“Y/n…” Peter sighed, his hand reaching out to grab yours but you were quick to pull it away.

“I thought friends didn’t do that,” you threw his words right back at him before you got out, leaving the pizza in your seat and slamming the door shut behind you. Now that you were in the rain, you let your tears flow since they now just appeared to anyone else as raindrops on your face. You tried to speed walk towards the hotel for two reasons: to get away from Peter and to get out of the rain. However, the damn arachnid abilities of your best friend made him much quicker, his hand catching your arm and spinning you back to face him.

You hated yourself for the thoughts running through your mind. The rain on his face that dripped down his cheeks and nose was insanely attractive, and the water made his curls droop onto his forehead, another thing that made him look irresistible. You wanted to kiss him so badly, but how could you after the last one caused so much damage obviously since it was one of the things behind this argument.

“Y/n, that’s not what I meant,” he spoke, his honey brown eyes darted between your own. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing you were. Did he think the water droplets sliding down your face looked pretty? Did he think you were pretty? He had commented on your appearance before, saying you looked beautiful on random occasions but now it all seemed meaningless.

“What did you mean, Peter? How else was I supposed to take that?” you argued with the boy. You didn’t care if he could tell the difference between the freshwater drops on your face and the saltwater tears because his words hurt you and he should know that.

“Of course, I could date you. I would love to date you! You are the most gorgeous girl I have ever laid eyes on and I’m still shocked that you choose to hang out with me every day. Why do you think I made that pact about us dating when we’re older? I can’t wait until then because we promised we’d get together. You do not know how much I hope you don’t find someone before then because my only chance to be with you will be gone because I certainly don’t have to balls to ask you out. The only reason I am telling you all of this now is because I’m scared I’ll lose you, y/n. I can’t even bear to think about that right now. I am an idiot and I’m sorry. I’m so sorr-“

“Peter!” you snapped, tired of hearing his rambles as you desperately wanted to feel his lips against your own.

“What?” he asked, brows knitted and eyes locked on yours.

“Shut up and kiss me,” you repeated the words that you said before your first kiss with the boy as you watched a smile grow on his lips. His hands were quick to cup your cheeks as he brought your face to his, lips connecting and a fire ignited within you both. His left hand slid from your cheek down your shoulder and arm until he found your waist and pulled you closer to his body. You gripped onto his bicep with one hand while your other found the back of his head, your fingers running through the dampened curls. A thought immediately popped in your head and you acted on it, tugging on the strands which resulted in his lips parting. Your plan was achieved successfully, and you slipped your tongue into the entrance. He followed suit and after a little bit, you both needed a little oxygen.

“Um, wow. That was um-“ Peter stumbled over his words, trying to muster up the perfect ones to say in fear of screwing up again. “Nice.” You chuckled at his awkwardness, leaning your head on his forehead and looking up at him.

“Yeah, I agree,” you breathed as your eyes scanned all over his features, taking in every bit of this beautiful moment. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Pete.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, y/n,” Peter responded with a grin, happy he could make you see the holiday as a little more enjoyable for you. The sound of his stomach growling interrupted the moment, and a laugh left your lips. “I’m gonna get the pizza.”

“You do that,” you chuckled at the hungry boy as he walked to the passenger side door, swinging it open to grab the square cardboard box. “You know Mildred is going to kill us. We’re out here drenched in our pajamas in the cold.”

“Yeah, she definitely will,” Peter agreed while walking up the steps with you, “but we can do it together.” He held his free hand out to you for you to take which you gladly did, interlacing your fingers with his. You got up on your tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek as well.

“Together.”

--------------------------------------------------

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[ephemerlskies]

constant craving 02 | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

⇢ genre: drabble series, unrequited love, even bigger idiot!jungkook, a n g s t with a teeny pinch of fluff, jungkook's lil lisp IS cannon

⇢ word count: 2.3k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, jungkook's undying oblivion syndrome, incessant pining, dysfunctional communication (or lack thereof), most of this is just arguing

⇢ summary: there are countless things to talk about with your significant other. jungkook, however, had yet to realize how often his conversations with his girlfriend were monopolized by none other than you. and he begins to wonder why others didn't see this as normal.

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: this picks up right where we left off! but it's in jungkook's pov... enjoy all the frustrating idiocy :)

part two: choices

He didn't tell you the reason why at exactly six o'clock he found himself slouching on your couch, on the side he'd claimed as his own from the sheer number of times he'd been there before, relieved that Irene took him back, yet a hint of bitterness mixed in from a source he couldn't quite locate. Disappointment? Maybe, however, the reasons why were beyond his humble knowledge. Confused? Well, if he is sure of one thing, it's that he is entirely unsure.

So, when he was about to make his way back to where he should have been, Jungkook made a decision which rippled a feeling that would have been better left untouched. He looked back.

He looked back at you, staring off so decisively into the sky with shoulders rising and falling rhythmically and head tilted slightly left which meant you were deep in one of your elusive thoughts, and he considered visiting the doctor for how his stomach was uncharacteristically turning. It was more than discomfort that was paralyzing his body at the moment, and the way his hand urged to reach out to you proved that his body knew something his heart had yet to realize.

Jungkook, with all his twenty-three years of accumulated wisdom, thought it nondescript to mention that the fight, which suddenly transported him into the home of the only person he could possibly trust for thoughtful and unreserved guidance, was over you.

Three days ago

"Do you think ___ will like it?" Jungkook asked, turning the small, engraved music box over in his hand for the thousandth time, inspecting for any dents or divots that would demote it's worthiness as a gift to you.

"Yes, it's a great gift, hun." Her words sounded wrapped around entirely different words that Irene was too afraid to speak out loud. She hoped her tone could have conveyed that, however Jungkook's ears were far too preoccupied to dig past the shell of her statement.

"Maybe I should get that tote bag, I know ___ has been complaining so much about how they don't have room in their bag for everything."

Irene was trying not to notice the way his eyes hadn't once even grazed her, or how Irene's parents were visiting in a week yet Jungkook hasn't mentioned wanting to meet them, or how this was the fifth time today he's brought up the festivities of you and Jungkook's 'friendiversary', which also happened to land on the same day that her parent's planned on meeting him. When she arrived at that dead end, after making great and avoidant strides, it was time she turned around and faced the partially shameful jealousy she had been running from.

"Jungkook, you haven't even asked me how my day was." Even those words encased something much deeper she decidedly did not want to reveal yet. They delivered with the hope he would figure it out on his own.

"Oh, sorry. How was your day?" Of course, he didn't figure it out.

"That's not the point."

"What?" And afternoon about twenty minutes or so, Jungkook leveled his eyes to her for the first time today. It was then when hints of distress were revealed through the subtle redness invading where the whites of her eyes should have been and the thin, yet visible, layer of tears collecting at the base of her eyes made Jungkook realize something was wrong. "What's wrong?"

"Well..." She paused, taking in all the air she needed to get through this next phrase. "Don't you think it's a little odd that you have been talking about ___ this whole time? I mean, I get it, you guys are best friends, but Jungkook, you haven't even looked at me!"

"Sorry, I didn't know my friendship was such an issue with you." Perhaps he seasoned that last response a bit too curtly since it managed to finally spill those tears once kept at bay in her eyes.

Admittedly, he felt bad for snapping at her. In his defense, she should have known how important this was to him. She should have known how many times the image of you reacting to this gift ran through his mind during moments of the day better spent focusing on the things he was presently doing. She should have known that if your reaction to it was anything less than ecstatic then sleep and concentration would become entirely foreign concepts until he got it right.

Why couldn't she just understand that? Or, maybe the problem was she did understand. She understood it all too well.

"Maybe I do, Jungkook. God! You don't think I see the way you look at ___? You don't think I see the way ___ looks at you?" Her eyes were taking turns counting the drops of tears, eight minus the one that had already dried, that dotted the table and eyeing the napkin she'd been nervously tearing into shreds. Though it was beyond frustrating and exhausting to draw out the painfully obvious, it seemed necessary because it was being carefully illustrated for the painfully oblivious.

"What? That's bullshit, we're friends!"

"Oh, please, Jungkook. Friends don't religiously celebrate a fucking anniversary. Couples do that, people who are in love do that."

Jungkook's mouth hung open, though to no avail, since the words he couldn't even articulate in his head came out as a heavy sigh. All he could think of was your voice telling him what an idiot he was because he certainly felt that way right now. In a flash, he heard that voice of yours and more and more bits of you alchemized after that one detail. Your laugh, the soft nudge of your elbow that he swore he could feel in his side, how your eyes rolled in a way only he could identify as another nonverbal way you said you loved him.

These thoughts comforted him, possibly more than it should have. The pieces of you that puzzled together in his mind only took a few seconds for him to form, however it felt like he spent an eternity trying to picture your face. As if constructing a vision of you when you weren't there was something he'd be stuck doing for the rest of his life.

"I don't know what you're even talking about. I love you." It was, pathetically, all he could say.

"And I can't even blame ___. You were the one who made a commitment to me, Jungkook." Irene collected the bits of paper that once made a napkin into a small pile. "I'm losing you, Jungkook. And it's because of ___."

"Are you going to ask me to choose, because you know that's so unfair."

"I'm not asking you to choose one or another! I just want you to choose me, your girlfriend, for once. Because you always seem to be choosing ___!"

"Choosing? What does that even mean? You're being stupid. Why should I have to choose at all?" As senseless as he thought choosing between the two was, he began to internalize exactly what it entailed.

Through the thickly layered denial insolsting his heart, the idea of losing Irene versus losing you was the small puncture in that denial which gave entry for his true feelings seep through and take control.

Realistically, there was never a choice to begin with. There were no decisions to be made or an alternative option or an opt out of what seemed like some prophetic conclusion. The heart is far too decisive to allow space for anything but what it wants. But, the denial sat on a diligently constructed throne of self-assigned 'friendship maintenance protocols' he had taken ever since he met you.

Such as the way he would avoid too much eye contact with you to maintain a steady heart rate.

How he would conveniently favor the same snacks as you did, because he loved the look of excitement you got when he would walk in with your go-to movie snacks. And he convinced himself he actually enjoyed M&Ms, despite hating them up until the moment he learned you loved them.

The amount of times he mistook hours for minutes when you were with him, and mistook minutes for hours whenever you weren't.

The fact that all his candles just so happened to cater towards your preferences because even when you were gone, he would be reminded of you.

Those, to Jungkook, were just things friends did for each other.

"Well then, let me make it easy for you, Jungkook." Irene left. There was a hollowness haunting the space she once populated. There was a desire strong enough to cut through glass that was simmering up a storm in Jungkook's head.

There was someone that he desperately needed, so he picked up his phone and texted.

Jungkook: can i call?

You: ya sure

Present day

"My parents said that they're so excited to meet you! I'm pretty sure they're gonna give you the whole marriage talk but please ignore them." Irene's cheer was a sharp contrast to the dull indifference of Jungkook.

Not for lack of trying, there were occasional gaps in his memory ever since Irene arrived at his place after having you tell him what to say to her. And he didn't know why, but when you were talking about choosing and wanting to be with someone no matter what, it fulfilled a silent, yet perpetual hunger to hear those words that even he didn't know he needed to hear you say until you said them.

"Yeah, I..." You were probably at home right now, partaking in your daily, self-induced mild coma as he liked to call it since you were a heavier sleeper than actual lifeless bodies. "Yeah. Excited to meet them."

"Babe, is something wrong?" You seemed so sad when he left that day.

Why didn't I ask you what was wrong? He thought, as if you would have been able to answer.

"Nothing's wrong"

"Something's definitely wrong. Just tell me." Jungkook would have been honest with Irene, but he felt guilty for bringing you up. There was no reason to feel guilty about once again steering the conversation back to you, his friend — his best friend and nothing more — unless...

"Something’s definitely not wrong. I'm just nervous about meeting your parenths- Parents." The 's' on parents revealed his effortfully suppressed lisp that he'd been insecure of, that is until you heard it and called it cute.

It was one of those throw away comments that he was meant to forget in a day, even an hour, but that memory was tacked into his brain every time his lisp impeded on his speech. Before, his light cheeks would acquire that crimson flush when any word with an 's' came up through his tongue in a way which would betray him and catch on his teeth that made it sound more like a 'th'. That memory of someone who thought his least favorite quality was, of all things, cute.

"Seriou-th-ly..." He said to you, then immediately began composing an apology that would salvage his own embarrassment more so than your assumed judgement. But all he could say was a meek "Sorry."

"Why are you sorry? It was cute." His cheeks burned, but this time for reasons not affiliated with his lisp

"Don't be nervous. I just said they're gonna love you. I'm pretty sure they already love you." Jungkook thought it was edging on sociopathic for not giving a damn about what Irene's parents thought of him, let alone the idea of trying to get them to like him. That didn't matter as much when you looked so upset the day he last saw you, and all he could do was leave you that way.

"Jungkook, did you hear me?"

"What?"

Irene knew that look. She knew what had secured his coveted focus because it happened almost every time they were together. And as much as she wanted to place blame on everyone, on you, and on Jungkook, she couldn't accost anyone but herself for knowingly falling in love with someone whose heart was claimed quite clearly by someone else.

"Jungkook, I love you."

"I love you too." And he meant it. But, despite his unequivocally shallow observational skills, he knew it felt different, deeper, the way he knew it was supposed to feel like when he said those words to you.

"So, I'm sorry I have to do this." This time, she didn't cry. Almost as if she'd been preparing herself for this inevitability.

Her hand rested on his, memorizing the texture of each line, the smooth backside and the course knuckles, and stored it among the things she'd never get to feel again. Eventually, she'd have to redefine it from the things she loves into the things she once loved. And one day, she'd forget the feeling of his hand and she had to be okay with that.

"What-"

"I really hope you get ___ someday." And she meant it. He wanted to thank her, but that would sound more patronizing than grateful, so he figured the only way to avoid the unfortunate casualty of Irene's heartbreak being in vain would be to somehow convince you to love him the way he's loved you.

After she left, he sat there, phone in hand, your phone number ready to be dialed, his ears eager to hear your voice, his mind ready to admit the things his heart had been secretly certain of for a while, and said softly, "Me too."

Jungkook sat alone, his apartment emptied of the person he should have been chasing after, the person who should have been at the top of his list to call, the person who loved him enough to put his needs first, whose arms he should have wanted to feel enveloping him, yet the person who he could never seem to choose. Irene was a 'should' that would never be his 'could'.

And then, there was you.

a/n: but wait, there's more!!!! i will definitely make this a possibly 4 chapter series w a happy ending for all you fluff-addicted fiends. also didn't want to do the crazy, jealous girlfriend trope because we love women in this household and irene deserves better than dummy jungkook!