#it makes me feel as if this is the kind of Highschool life I wish I could have had | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prodagustd · 1 year ago

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the road not taken | myg

part one: back home

Summary: To have the job you’ve always wanted and the life you’ve always dreamt of you had to break a few hearts, including your own. Four years later after running away from your home, your family and friends, you realized that maybe you fucked up; you’ve been a bad daughter, a bad sister and a bad friend. Getting your shit together seemed difficult enough, you didn’t expect that it included facing the first man who ever broke your heart: your brother’s best friend.

part two>

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: angst, fluff, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension? lmao, slow burn, flashbacks, ANGST!! Btw english is not my first language !!

—words: 12k

—a/note: literally finding the courage to post this rn because yesterday i had an identity crisis and i wanted to delete everything!!! but i hope you like it more than me <3 feedback is very much appreciated, if you want to be on the taglist pls let me know!!

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago.

In your almost twenty one years of life, you never had to spend the holidays without your eldest brother, you were never prepared for that. All the attention of your family was fixed on you now, making you feel like you were an only child for the first time. It felt weird, but nostalgic, like you were waiting for him to enter through the door at any moment. You supposed it was going to happen at some point, opening the gifts with just your mom, sitting on the front seat of the car for the first time while listening to christmas songs on the radio, only to arrive to your grandparents’ home and attempt to survive the questions of your future alone, that didn’t sound fun at all.

Simon, your eldest brother, didn’t die, by the way, he just got a girlfriend. A girlfriend? Yes, a girlfriend, that word wasn’t part of his vocabulary, or at least it wasn’t a few years ago when he left for college, but now all of a sudden he had a serious one, the kind who invited their boyfriends to spend the holidays with their families. Now Simon wore knitted sweaters, drank black coffee and listened to all the bands your uncle liked, he grew up, or something like that, but you didn’t think he grew up enough to get a girlfriend, to fall in love. Well, you hoped he was in love, you didn’t meet the girl yet but you hoped he was, at least that was what he said.

Yes, Christmas without your brother sounded a bit sad, but New Year’s eve on the other hand… didn’t sound so bad.

If your brother’s absence would’ve happened years ago, you would’ve planned this the same way as always, getting drunk with your highschool friends at the only decent party that there was in your hometown around that time, only this time he wasn’t going to be around to tell you to stop drinking or to take the joint off your mouth when you failed to hide from him to smoke weed. But this year you got sick of all that, you got sick of the same faces from highschool and all the girls who approached you just because they wanted to fuck your brother, or all the girls who fucked your brother’s best friend, maybe you got sick of the same music, the same party, the same people. This year you felt like you were seventeen again, too afraid to wish that something different could happen, maybe this time you weren’t coming home alone after watching Yoongi giving the first kiss of the year to some random girl, maybe this time your heart wasn’t going to hurt that much.

Yoongi, your brother’s best friend, was painfully always there in your life, you didn’t know how the mess that was your brother was able to have such a good friend, they knew each other even before you were born, when they were only four and met each other at basketball practice. Yoongi was always like your brother’s conscience, the voice of reason, the calm one, the designated driver ever since he was sixteen, the smart one, the boy every mother wanted as their son. Yoongi was the boy who helped you with your math homework when you were eleven, he was the boy who defended you when your brother made fun of you, the boy who gave you his joystick so you would stop crying when you found out your brother was making you play with the one that didn’t work. He was sweet and kind with everybody, you wished you knew that when you were twelve so you could save yourself the eternal heartache that came along with being in love with a man who only saw you as your brother’s little sister.

Yoongi was always mature, always wiser, always older. And you were always immature, always stubborn, always younger. Just a brat who couldn’t stand the fact that he was the only one you wanted, but the only one you couldn’t have.

Maybe forgetting about him when he went away to college was the best thing that happened to you, you pretended he didn’t exist during the school year and made yourself believe you got over it, that your heart didn’t jump every time you called your brother and you heard his voice in the background, that you didn’t read every birthday message he sent you since you were sixteen until you memorized them, that you didn’t compare every guy to him and that you weren’t annoyed when you realized that none of them was half as intelligent as him. You were obligated to pretend you weren’t condemned to look for his face in every crowd ever since you were a teenager. All that mental effort was wasted away when you came back home for the holidays and saw him sitting on your couch again.

You repeated the cycle every year as you pretended that your heart wasn’t tired of it, like seeing him that morning in your kitchen didn’t make your heart drop like you were twelve years old again.

It began when you heard voices coming from the second floor, an outburst of laughter, your mother’s laughter, and then the laugh that echoed so many times in your dreams, were you still in a dream? You thought you might be in one when you entered the kitchen and saw the long figure of the man, the long figure of Yoongi, sitting on a stool as he peeled a tangerine and listened to your mother talk, but the minute they noticed your presence they fell silent.

Two pairs of eyes landed on your sleepy face, making you aware that you were wearing your old pajamas, the one that was pink and had a bunny pattern all over it. You locked eyes with him and it felt like it hadn't passed a day since the last time you saw him.

“What are you two gossiping about so early?” You wondered out loud, slowly approaching the aisle of the kitchen, slowly approaching Yoongi, whose hair was slightly shorter from the last time you saw him and whose cheeks were still red from the cold outside. You arrived three days ago, confidently thinking that even if your mind was a mess at least you didn't have to see your brother's best friend's face.

In your mind, you cursed your mom for always telling him that he will be forever welcomed in her house.

“Why do you care?” He spat at you, following your figure with his eyes as you sat in one of the stools beside him. “That’s between your mom and me.”

“Dude,” You said under your breath, grabbing a tangerine from the bowl of fruits in front of you “You have to get a fucking girlfriend.”

Your mother frowned, annoyed, but Yoongi is too used to you to do anything else but laugh.

“God, darling, you barely open your eyes and you’re already cursing.” She complained, shaking her head in disapproval. You shrugged, pretending to pay full attention to the tangerine in your hands.

“It’s fine, Lila. I can handle her.” He said, carefree as ever.

You scoffed, “Yeah, sure.” You played it cool, as if that didn’t make your heart jump a little. “What are you doing here, anyway? Weren’t you supposed to come back for christmas?”

“Why?” He asked, “You want me gone?”

You saw a stupid smirk appear in his face, the same one you’ve seen countless times in the past. It seemed to be the only thing that could put out your cocky attitude.

“Don’t be stupid.” You managed to answer, running away from his eyes.

You heard him sigh “I finished early, I arrived last night.” He answered the question, reaching his hand under the counter to pinch your thigh, as if that could shake off your bad attitude, plot twist: it only made it worse. “That’s what I was talking about with your mom, I left Simon behind while he was still dealing with exams.”

“Such a good friend.” You joked.

“Maybe… But hey, he’s the one who ditched me for a girl after all.”

“Well, if it’s a pretty girl you can’t blame him so much.”

“If you say so…” He hissed, rolling his eyes “What about you, huh?” He changed the topic “What are you doing here two weeks early?”

“You see, this is my house.” You quickly replied, putting the first tangerine segment between your lips to avoid saying the truth. He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head.

Of course there was a coherent reason for why you weren’t in school right now, but since you arrived you couldn’t seem to quit the bad attitude, especially in the mornings, it was driving you crazy.

“You shouldn’t ask, dear.” Your mom intervened, turning around to wash her mug previously filled with coffee “Sensitive topic.”

Yoongi’s eyes shifted to you again, as well as his whole body, curiously raising his eyebrows.

“Sensitive topic.” You mocked your mother, annoyed that she used such words. She was quick to disappear from the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone. You wondered if she was already tired of hearing you whine.

“Don’t think I won’t ask you about it.” He smirked, stealing a segment of your tangerine just to annoy you.

Oh, you were sure he would want all the details.

“Whatever.” You gritted your teeth. “You only came to see Lila? I bet she would love to switch you with me.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Yoongi smugly said, ignoring the sudden annoyed look on your face, he was too used to it to be bothered by it. “But as much as I love your mom, I came to see you.”

You blinked, not sure what to say next. Now your angry expression turned into a surprised one, cursing yourself for feeling excited to hear that. You knew Yoongi finished early and was coming back home, you asked your brother about it last time he called you, you were just playing dumb when you asked, but when Simon told you he was going to be in town you didn’t expect to see him in your house the next day he arrived.

“Me?” You tried to confirm.

“Yeah, you.” He said, booping the tip of your nose “Simon told me you’ve been having trouble with your car, I thought I could help.”

You nodded, that made more sense than him just coming to see you.

“Simon is such a snitch.” You murmured.

“I can’t deny that…” He laughed, looking at you tearing apart your tangerine and putting another segment between your lips, “Do you… want me to help?”

“Maybe…” You murmured “Do I have to pay you?”

“Maybe…” Yoongi answered, imitating your tone “Or you can just tell me why you are here before the break, I don’t know.”

You squinted at him, knowing it was just a matter of time until everybody found out you dropped out of college, but there was certain relief in delivering the news to Yoongi, something inside you told you he would understand.

“Bold of you to blackmail me when I know you won’t fix my car properly.” You accused him, mentioning that time he tried to fix your brand new car when something happened to it and you had to take it to his uncle’s garage when he made it worse.

“C’mon, that was only once.”

“Let’s not make it twice, then.” You clapped your hands, getting off the stool to walk towards the stairs to your room again “Let me change first. And don’t try to seduce my mom while I’m gone, it won’t work.”

You heard his laugh from behind, and even if you thought about it, you didn’t dare to look back.

Not even five minutes later, you found yourself with him in your cold garage under the dim old light that provided you the tiny room. You supposed it was easier to open the garage door but you didn’t want your fingers to be frozen.

You sat on the old desk in the corner of your garage as you watched Yoongi open the hood of your car, trying not to stare when pulled the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows.

He was wearing a beige sweater that tightened around his shoulders and his waist, Simon told you that he and Yoongi started going to gym lately and you could tell, his back was wider than you remember and you hated how different he looked from the last time you saw him.

You hated to think there were people who saw him everyday and couldn’t tell the difference.

You looked at your feet hanging in the air, hearing him suck his breath just to let you know he was just about to start throwing questions at you.

“So?” He asked, persistent as always.

“So what?” You played dumb.

“So?” He emphasized, not willing to give up.

So? You didn’t know how to start. Serious talks weren’t your thing, and even if you knew that Yoongi wasn’t expecting that from you, you still felt a rush of nervousness when the absence of his voice filled the room, your cue to start talking.

“Mmm… It’s difficult to explain.” You trailed off. “I’m starting to think that I might be the black sheep of the family.”

Your words made him turn his head at you, curious to hear more.

“The black sheep?” He repeated.

“Yeah, I think so.” You confirmed, without saying anything else.

“Fine…” Yoongi scratched the back of his head, a bit confused, something that was normal when he was with you. “You’re not giving me a lot of context.”

You knew this, but making a joke was easier than telling the whole truth. You wished you could tell him jokes until he forgot what your mother told him. But no, your mother already opened her mouth and now you had to explain your life crisis to the man in front of you.

“Let’s just say.. I dropped out of the semester…” You mumbled, unsure of your own voice “but I’m thinking that it is not just the semester, maybe it’s the whole thing.”

Yoongi turned his whole body to you, paying full attention to your words “Really?” He asked, just in case you were joking, but by the look in your eyes and the tone of your voice he could tell that you weren’t playing. You just nodded “Why, though?”

“That’s something I’ve been asking myself.”

“You don’t know?” He chuckled, making you roll your eyes.

“Maybe I don’t know.” You tried to admit, but that was a lie.

“Mmm, but I think you do know, though.” He contradicted you, turning around to keep checking your car.

“Well, kind of… Do you want me to tell you half of the truth or a lie?” You offered him, leaving him without many options.

“Well, you are not very democratic, Pinky.” He scoffed, using the not-so-funny nickname he’s been calling you ever since you were kids. Only Yoongi could still be calling you like some character from an old cartoon that aired twenty years ago. “But I choose the half truth.”

“Wise decision, as always.” You commented, clicking your tongue. “The half truth is… that being a nurse is not my thing, I don’t want to be that predictable, being the bitch in highschool that ended up being a nurse. At least I want to be the bitch in high school who ended up being something else. And I was not happy at college, not even a bit. I don’t think that’s who I am”

Yoongi frowned, trying to process all the words you just vomited. If that was half the truth, what was the whole truth?

“Wait, wait. Let’s go for parts.” He stopped you. “So, now you were a bitch in high school?”

“You know I was.” You said, rolling your eyes.

Bitch was a strong word to call yourself, but to be fair you weren't being the nicest with yourself these past weeks. You stared at him, waiting for him to admit that yes, you were a bitch when you were seventeen years old, but that would be a lie. Yoongi would never have called you a bitch, you did have an attitude, you weren’t the friendliest in the mornings, you weren’t friends with everyone, you treated boys like shit, but you weren’t a bitch to him.

“Isn’t that too… harsh?” He asked softly.

“Isn’t it the truth?” You kept pushing it, but you were crazy if you think he’s going to agree with you.

Yoongi shook his head, taking a long step to break the small distance that was between the two of you so he could be in front of you. As a gentle gesture, he put his cold hands on your knees, it was not an unusual gesture, but it had been so long since you had him that close that you couldn’t help but shiver. “I know you don’t like me getting all sappy, but I hope you know that only you get to decide who you are, and if you don’t think that is a nurse, then it’s not.” He rubbed his palms on your clothed skin, searching for his last words. “But, I must say, I don’t think a bitch is who you are either.”

The cold room suddenly turned warm under his gaze, catching you with your guard down once again. You hated when he turned conversations into something like this, and worse, you hated when you bumped into the ugly reality that surrounded you when his eyes stopped looking at yours. This was not easier than last year, you wondered if it will ever be easy.

“Well, the boys in my class might disagree.” You said, looking straight into his eyes.

He laughed. “Well boys at that age are dumb.”

“Boys are always dumb.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Even me?” He asked, batting his eyelashes at you like he was a little girl.

“Especially you, I bet you don’t know what the hell are you doing right now with my car.”

Yoongi reached out to try to pinch your knees, but you escaped from his fingers. “God, you’re so mean.” He complained

“So mean?” You questioned, moving closer to him and pretending to be annoyed.

“Yeah, so mean” He repeated “But not a bitch.”

You rolled your eyes, watching him turn around again to come back to your car. You can’t help but feel disappointed when he moved away. “So… If you are not a nurse, what are you?”

You tilted your head, thinking about it. What were you? Well, in your room you were a dancer and in your dreams a mermaid, but in reality you were too embarrassed and too afraid, too insecure to admit what “you were”.

“I don’t know.” You hesitated to answer. You loved Yoongi, in more ways that you could ever allow yourself to love him, but you could not tell him all your dreams just like that.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” He sang, mocking you, but from your position you could only resist pushing him into your car. “You don’t have to say it, I already know.”

You quirked an eyebrow, curious. “Do you?” A smirk appeared on your face, but he couldn’t see it, he was still working on God knows what.

“Kind of…” He laughed “I don’t know exactly, but I do know that you are too bright to just be a nurse, with all due respect to the nurses, of course.”

You stared at his back until he turned his head to find your eyes, offering you a soft smile. You mentally cursed him, if he hadn’t turned around you could blush like a teenager without care, but now your cheeks were red and your heart was jumping, the only thing you could hope for was that he couldn’t hear it from where he was standing.

“That isn’t very respectful to nurses.” You simply said, and he shook his head, laughing.

“Maybe, but I still stand by what I said.”

“Well, whatever I might be,” You started saying, trying to keep talking with all your feelings still swirling around inside your chest, “I still don’t want to disappoint any more people by making the wrong decision and coming back to live with my mom in six months.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh, not because he was mocking you, but because he couldn’t believe how you couldn’t be at least a little positive, how you were only twenty one and you felt like there was no turning back.

“Who don't you want to disappoint?” He chuckled, “I really thought you didn’t care about that stuff.”

“I thought so too!” You exclaimed, just as surprised as him. “But I already disappointed my mom, Simon will be disappointed too when he finds out, I’m sure.”

“God, you’re so wrong, I don’t even know who I’m talking to right now.” He tried to joke, but the feeling of emptiness that had been living in your stomach for the past months didn’t go away just like that. “Do you really think that about your mom?”

“I don’t know!” You said, throwing your arms in the air to be just a little more dramatic that you were already being “But when I told her she made that face that she does when she’s annoyed or upset, now she wants to talk to me about the future every time we sit down to eat, she looks at me like that all the time, like she’s mad with me or something.”

For the past few days you tried to understand your mom, but you failed when you tried to understand yourself. After Simon followed Yoongi to law school, your mom expected you to do something similar, and when you decided to be a nurse she was content enough, both of her kids were off to college now, nothing could go wrong.

Your mom always bragged that she knew you like the palm of her hand, the only conclusion she could reach when you appeared at your house with the news was that you were never happy with what you had, you always had to have something else, something you couldn’t have. And even if you were about to be mature enough to admit she was right, you knew she wasn’t completely. Yes, you were a brat, but you felt in your heart this time was different.

“C’mon, Pinky. I don’t think your mom is disappointed, I’m sure she is just confused. You were two years into college, she must think this came out of nowhere, she’ll have time to understand that it didn’t.” He turned around a pointed a tool hanging on the wall, you didn’t knew the name of it, or what the fuck he was doing with your car, but you handed it to him anyway. “And, she’ll have even more time to understand that you’re not Simon and that her children are two completely different people.”

“Do you think?” You murmured.

“Yes, dummy. And you’re crazy if you think your brother would ever be disappointed in you for something like that, he is the first person that supports you no matter what, he’ll understand that dropping out of college is not the end of the world.”

You stayed in silence, not daring to say a single word after what he said. You wanted to say that you were tired of all of that, how predictable Yoongi was, how terribly annoying it was for him to always be right. How was it that he always knew what to say? Was it so hard for him to be wrong at least once so you could argue with him? So you could correct him and tell him that he was saying nonsense? Yes, it was. You just rolled your eyes, even if he wasn’t watching you.

“You’re insufferable.” You said, when what you really wanted to say was just “thank you”, but he understood.

“Maybe I am.” He laughed, “But at least I’m not the one trying to find excuses to be miserable.”

You watched him put the tools aside and closed the hood of your car, but you were too focused on something else to ask if your car was okay or not. He grabbed a piece of cloth lying next to you and wiped his hands, “What about my grandma?” You wondered out loud, like he knew what to do about that as well.

“You’re seriously not thinking about your grandma right now.” He leaned over your car, with his arms crossed over his chest while shaking his head disapprovingly. If it was any other guy doing that, you would have told him to get the fuck away from your car, but Yoongi still had his sleeves rolled up, which made you think it was okay for now.

“But I am.” You answered “I can already picture her face when she finds out, I can already hear the comments of her neighbor’s daughter, how she’s on her fourth year of medicine and I’m going back to square one again or some shit like that. The worst thing is that Simon is not here, so I’ll have to endure all of that alone.”

Yoongi was run by logic most of the time, so it was hard for him to understand how fast your imagination flew, but he knew that was part of your very theatrical self. It wouldn’t hurt him to become a little more like you, maybe being a rational person made him more intelligent, but sometimes made him more of a fool.

“And since when do you care what your grandma thinks?” He laughed, “She will always have something to complain about, to impress her you would have to be born again, but this time blonde and with blue eyes. Do I need to remind you again, that woman doesn’t have a loving bone in her body?”

“God, stop.” You sighed, fully knowing he was right.

“You stop.” He laughed, “Stop trying to make everyone happy but yourself.”

“Well, maybe that’s the hardest thing to do.” You murmured.

“Getting your shit together is the hardest thing to do, but I’m sure you’ll get there.”

Believing Yoongi surely is not the hardest thing to do for you, but when it comes to believing in yourself is a whole different thing.

“Says the man who always has his shit together.” You snorted “Difficult to believe you.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, moving from your car to sit next to you on top of the uncomfortable desk “That’s not true.” He tried to deny it.

“Yeah, sure.” You bumped his shoulder “Name one time you couldn’t balance your personal life with your academic life.”

Yoongi straightened his back, crossing his arms over his chest and pretending to think about it.

“Mmm… Right now?” He murmured.

“Right now?” You repeated, raising your eyebrows in disbelief.

“Yeah, look at me.” He pointed at himself. “I don’t think I have a personal life at this point, all I could think about was finishing early to come home to my mom so I could take care of her, and guess what?”

“What?” You asked, curiously.

“She told me she already planned a trip with my aunt for both Christmas and new years. She ditched me, and now? I’m alone, I’m starting to think my personal life was just my mom.”

You covered your mouth, not being able to hold yourself back before bursting in laughter. “She ditched you?” You laughed, but he nodded, annoyed that you’re laughing at him. “Oh my God, she got rid of you.”

“She got rid of me.” He affirmed.

“Lucky her, honestly.” You teased him “Isn’t that proof enough that you have to relax with her? You’re in college worrying about her health and she’s here organizing trips with her sister.”

Yoongi shook his head, still in denial, “Maybe, but she can’t do things like this without letting me know first.”

“Why not?” You scoffed “She’s an adult, isn’t she?”

“She’s an adult, but I’m her son.” He huffed “And that’s all I’ve ever known to do, care for her.”

“Well, you can take care of her at the same time you take care of yourself.” You reminded him “I’m sure that’s what your mom wants as well, she would be pissed to know you’re forgetting about your own life being busy worrying about her.”

Yoongi knew you were right, he knew that more than anyone but still couldn’t help but worry about his mom. She had her siblings, who always knew how to take care of her, but he always felt like it was his responsibility as her son to do it, no one could take that thought off his mind. The only reason he brought it up was because you asked, but it was not a thing he wanted to discuss right now, he could put his social life on pause if that meant his mom was going to be okay.

He turned his head at you, offering you an amused grin as he ruffled your hair with his hand, willing to change the topic. “Why are you scolding me? I’m supposed to scold you.”

You pushed his hand off you, “I don’t need you to scold me, I have enough with my mom.” You sighed “Besides, if it were a competition, I would win. At least you have a future, I’m more fucked than you.”

“No, yeah. I’m sure of that.” He teased you back “You just have to make up your mind, I know it’s a mess inside there but I believe you can do it.”

“I hope so.” You said, and this time your words are sincere. “But for now the plan is to survive the holidays, then I can get my shit together.”

Yoongi laughed, sitting next to you on top of the uncomfortable desk. “Sounds like a good plan to me.” He agreed. “And you know, about christmas…”

“What about christmas?” You asked, at the risk of looking so visibly lost in his eyes.

“I was thinking… Since I don’t have any plans for Christmas…” He hesitated to say, lengthening the syllables of his words. “I was thinking… If you want to, I can go with you in place of your brother. You know, so you won’t be alone.”

The offering took you off guard, among all the things Yoongi could tell you, (the realistic ones, not the ones that only happened in your dreams) that was the most surprising. You had spent Christmas with Yoongi in the past, but your heart jumped at the thought of him spending Christmas with you, and not with your brother. Was he serious?

“Really?” You asked, afraid that he could see the excitement in your eyes “Would you do that?”

“Of course.” He smiled, “We can talk shit about your grandma together.”

You can hardly hide the smile on your face, you have to suppress the immense urge you have to hug him. “In that case, I would love it if you come.” You dared to admit “I mean, you owe me that for fucking up my car again.” You pointed at your car, already knowing that he couldn’t fix it.

He closed his eyes shut, throwing his head back “God, I’m sorry.”

Present

You had been wishing to sleep in your childhood bedroom for the past two months. You had been wishing to lay under the baby blue covers, have your mom kiss you goodnight and sleep a nap long enough to heal your heart.

You had been feeling like you were thirteen again for the whole year, thirteen and completely clueless, thirteen and scared, running home because you just saw your brother’s best friend kissing a girl at the bus stop, hiding under the covers and trying to forget that you were thirteen and there was no way he could ever see you the same way as that girl.

The last time that you visited your mom’s house was a year ago. You texted her every week, sent her and your brother gifts and tickets so they could see you in the current play you were in, but visiting her house was harder than it looked for you. You managed to come once every few years for thanksgiving, telling your mom that you were busy and that theater life was like that, but the truth was that after so many years you still couldn’t find the courage to spend more than two days in the town you grew up in, not after everything, not after Yoongi.

After so long, you were back where you started, running home after hitting a wall. The life you built with your own hands, the life that was supposed to be your dream turned out to be a lie, the boyfriend of three years you thought you loved was now gone, and the only person who ended up breaking your heart was yourself.

When was the moment you stopped calling you brother every three days? Or when you stopped showing up at every birthday? When was the moment you got so far from the person you used to be? You weren’t thirteen anymore, you were twenty five and just now you realized that no matter how many shiny people you have around, you are still alone and far from home.

Now you were headed home, with a bag full of clothes in the trunk of your car, prepared to install yourself in your mom’s house for the rest of the winter, determined to get your shit together, just like you thought you did a few years ago. Oh, how you wished you didn’t have to do this, how you wished you weren’t a complete mess. You wished you could enter your mother’s home and ignore the fact that you didn’t remember when was the last time you told her I love you, but to be fair with yourself, you didn’t remember the last time someone told you I love you either.

Your mom knew you were coming, she was the first one who knew about your break up with Ian, your boyfriend, so she was assuming that you were sad and heart broken, and even if that was true, it wasn’t because of the break up, you were the one who left him.

You didn’t know why, but you assumed that Ian understood what your relationship was, a sad pact that benefited both of your acting careers, a good image for the media, both of the most successful young actors being allegedly in love, and for you, just an arrangement to avoid being alone. How surprised you were when he got down on one knee and proposed, with his mom’s ring on one hand and a bunch of your so-called friends hiding in the distance, preparing to celebrate when you were supposed to say ‘yes’. He had a smile on his face, convinced that wasn’t the worst idea that ever crossed his mind. You thought it was clear that you never wanted to marry him, you believed you found someone who loved you enough not to leave you alone but not enough to marry you. God, you sounded crazy, but that was what you became, a superficial celebrity whose whole life was calculated enough so people thought it was perfect.

You felt like shit when you had to say no to Ian, but you had no other option. Everything was so fake it made you want to throw up, and on top of that, he was the asshole who didn’t even bother to invite your family to, what was supposed to be, your engagement party. If you were to say yes, where was your mom to hug you? Or to tell you that you were being mental for marrying someone you didn’t love? That was the moment when you knew you were about to lose it, that’s when you knew that if you stayed there you would’ve lost your mind, and you were so close to doing it, the only thing that finally woke you up was a marriage proposal.

You turned right, immediately recognizing you were close to home. You had to start doing things right, but where do you begin?

Four years ago

When you arrived home, the realization that almost every person in your life had found someone except you hit you. It started when your best friend, Emma, finally got a girlfriend last summer, then it followed with your brother spending the holidays with his new girlfriend, and now, to your complete surprise, you had to find out that even your mother was seeing someone for the first time in years.

Yes, at first you thought it was going be to weird to see your mother leaving you every afternoon to have dinner with her new boyfriend, -whom she refused to present to you just yet-, but after the first week of cooking for yourself to sit in the kitchen island and eating while watching a random youtube video, you realized it was not weird, but it was making you feel extremely lonely. Love seemed to be everywhere around you, but not for you.

That afternoon you helped her do the groceries, but she had already warned you that, once again, you were going to have to cook for yourself since she was not going to be around tonight.

All your friends from home were still away and they weren’t coming back for another two weeks, so you were almost completely alone in your hometown. And without you wanting it, only one particular name swirled in your mind, wondering if he was as lonely as you were, which he probably was, but you didn’t want any part of it. You were still trying not to look around too much in the grocery line hoping to see a familiar face, forcing yourself not to look up when you knew you were passing his street. You promised that you weren’t going to wait to see him again, as if that way you could prove something to yourself.

You expected Yoongi to disappear only to see him again the day before Christmas, you were sure he wasn’t going to appear at your doorstep like that morning, it wasn’t going to happen, you convinced yourself of it. Because of that, on the way home when you were riding in your mom’s car as you came back from the store, you thought that maybe you were just hallucinating when you saw him waiting in your driveway.

Your mom got down from the car first, you watched her giving him a hug and then observed them talking, you were sure he was going to offer to help with the bags and you were sure your mom was going to smile and accept his help. Your mom loved Yoongi, and Yoongi loved your mom, you could see it. When Yoongi was a kid and his mother had to spend long days at the hospital your mom always opened the doors of your house so he wouldn’t be alone. Like you, Yoongi grew up without a dad, so his mom was lucky to have your mom to look out for him when she wasn’t around.

You mustered courage and got down, surrounding the car to get to the trunk where the bags were and finding him with his arms already busy.

“Hi, Pinky.” He let out and in the cold you could see his breath. His nose was red and his eyes crystallized from the weather.

You barely got to open your mouth to greet him before your mom spoke. “Yoongi was looking for you.” She told you as she headed to the porch.

“Really?” You wanted to know, just in case your mom was lying, for some reason.

“Yeah, really.” He answered, watching you grab the last two bags and closing the trunk of the car. “Do you have any plans tonight?”

Your heels suddenly dug into the ground, making you stop dead to check if you heard that right. Yoongi didn’t notice, he started to walk backwards, heading towards the door as he looked at you and invited you to follow him. You took the first step, not knowing what to say, not knowing how to react. Did you have any plans tonight? For a second your mind went blank, completely forgetting you had a date with Robert Pattinson as Edward Cullen in Breaking Dawn at nine pm.

You avoid his gaze, trying to come up with an answer. “Do you have any friends?” You asked. Classic you, insulting him in case he noticed your face was two seconds away from burning red. You heard your mom grunt as she entered through the door, but Yoongi just laughed.

“Do you?” He attacked back, smirking “Going to the store with your mom on a friday night, I thought you were popular in high school.”

“I was not, you must have confused me with my brother, we have the same nose.” You scoffed, walking with him to your house “And I do have friends, they’re just not around.”

“So you don’t have plans.” Yoongi confirmed for himself, letting you enter through the door first.

“No, not really.” You admitted, leading him to the kitchen to leave the bags on the counter. “Why? Did you want to take me out?”

The question was intended to come out as a joke, but it burned on your tongue. You often tortured yourself with those kinds of comments, but his answer was worse than any kind of cruel joke you could’ve made to yourself.

“Yes.” He said, leaving his bags next to yours. “That’s what I was thinking before you made fun of me for not having friends.”

You stayed quiet, pretending to look for something in the bags, pretending you weren’t screaming in your mind. Why on earth was he here? Why was he torturing you this way? You were enough of a mess, the last thing you needed was this, bringing you more torment than you already had.

You sighed, quickly coming up with another answer “Sorry I can’t retract myself.” You said. “But what were you thinking that was so important for you to come to my house instead of texting?”

“I was afraid that if I texted you would’ve said no.” He admitted.

You arched an eyebrow “Why?” You questioned.

“Because… I saw that the theater is doing a Christmas special, and they’re showing Home Alone tonight.”

“Which theater?” You asked, but you were fully aware which one was.

“You know, the one near the park with the weird fountains.” He said, confirming what you were thinking.

You wondered what to say next. There you had Yoongi, inviting you to watch a movie with him, ‒your favorite movie to be more specific‒ but at the place you used to secretly go to theater classes when you were thirteen until you finished highschool. You knew the place had those kinds of events where they showed old movies following a theme, as Christmas approached they never failed to show Home Alone as many times as they could.

Would it be so bad for him to find out that you used to be obsessed, maybe still were, with musicals? You never told him about that, let alone about the classes, that was something you used to keep to yourself and no one else, so going out with him meant to out yourself to him. It was inevitable for people to recognize you there, you knew a lot of your friends from back then were still very attached to the place, unlike you, who decided to leave everything behind once you left for college to be someone you didn’t want to be.

“I don’t know, I allow myself to watch Home Alone only once a year.” You tried to excuse yourself.

“I know that, that’s why I came here instead of texting” He said, “But I’ve come up with a solution, I tell you this, we can go and watch Home Alone tonight, and on Christmas we watch Home Alone 2.” He offered, but you felt offended he even dared to mention Home Alone 2.

“I don’t like Home Alone 2.” You reminded him. “I think it’s un-”

“Unrealistic that they lose Kevin twice, yeah, yeah, I know!” He interrupted you, stealing the words from your mouth. “But I like Home Alone 2, I think it’s still a good Christmas movie.” You stared at him with narrowed eyes, pretending to think about it, as if your heart was strong enough to even try to say no to him, even if that meant you had to go back to the place where you used to be a completely different person from who you were in school, and most importantly, even if that meant you would have to watch Home Alone 2. It was painful to admit that you already knew your answer when you saw him in your driveway. “Don’t be boring, Pinky. I’ve already got tickets.”

Just for a moment, while the dim lights of your kitchen lighted up his eyes as they begged you to go with him, you wished you had plans that evening already. You took a second to imagine a scenario where you told him that you weren’t free that night, that someone was going to pick you up later. You tried to imagine his face when you told him that you were in fact going out on a date with some other dude and pictured him heartbroken because you rejected him. But of course that wasn’t the case, your friends from college used to joke around and say that men ran away from you and only the brave ones were capable of asking you out, there was no way you were going out with someone who knew you in high school. And even if that were true, you lived in a reality where Yoongi wouldn’t flinch if you told him you were going out with someone else, a reality where you could never reject him. There was a part of you who enjoyed the pain of coming back to him, of being around him and living with the knowledge that at some point you'll have to get over him.

“Fine.” You finally gave in “I guess I could watch Home Alone 2 on Christmas”

He smiled victoriously, raising his fists in the air like he won some trophy.

You didn’t know what was worse, whether to have him around or not see him at all, you knew that the safest option was not seeing him, but your poor heart didn’t seem to understand that it was for the best.

Present

When you parked your car, you realized you didn’t have the keys to your house anymore. You were sure they were somewhere in your apartment back in the city, but even if you had remembered to look for them, you wouldn’t have found them, you had no idea where they were. It has been a long time since you thought about putting foot in your home, your real home, not the one back in the city, with countless empty rooms you had never used. They keys to your home, where were they? You bitterly laughed as you walked towards the porch, with your bags in your hands and your heart on your sleeve, that was how disconnected to the place where you grew up in you were.

The little pumpkins your mom put on the porch reminded you that the last time you were home was also october. The play you were in last fall was just about to end and you visited home for a weekend just to ask your mom to go and see you for your final performance. You remembered how angry you felt when she told you she and Phil, her boyfriend, had already planned a trip to Scotland for that same weekend. It took you a whole year ‒or even more‒ to realize that while you were busy living your life, your family was doing the same thing, you disappeared for months and they had no other choice but to keep going without you.

You stood in front of the big wood door for a few seconds, feeling like some prodigal daughter, until you decided to finally ring the bell.

As soon as your mom opened the door and you caught the surprised look on her face, you knew you weren’t supposed to be there, at least not yet.

“Darling! What…?” She breathed out as if she had seen a ghost, but to be fair you weren't far from looking like one, you didn’t remember the last time you had a proper sleep. “What are you doing here?”

You shrugged, not knowing if she was joking “I called you on the phone last month, don’t you remember?” You asked. The surprise on your mom’s face morphed into confusion, and for some reason it made your chest hurt a little.

“You told me you were coming Friday the 5th.” She said, but she didn’t move from the door, as if you were about to turn around, leave and come back for the date she thought you were coming.

“That’s… today.” You reminded her.

She frowned, raising her left arm to check the apple watch on her wrist, the one you gave her as a present for mother’s day a few months ago, immediately realizing that you were right. “God, where’s my mind?” She exclaimed, cleaning her hands on the apron she was wearing to grab one of your bags from your hand, finally leaning back to let you in. “Sorry darling, I don’t know what I was thinking when you called me.”

“It’s okay.” You said, more to yourself than to her, closing the door behind you “These days my mind is nowhere near, either.”

“No, it’s not okay. I can’t believe it flew over my head like that.” She kept complaining, taking off your coat for you to hang it on the coat rack “Do you have any more bags?”

You nodded “In the car.”

“Okay, let’s go grab them later.” She said, turning around to head towards the kitchen with a quick pace. “Follow me darling, I’m about to finish cooking, you arrived just in time for lunch.”

Well, your mom always seemed to be in a hurry, she was like every other mom after all, but today she looked more rushed than usual, making you wonder if your arrival was that unexpected, did you suddenly ruin her Friday just by appearing at her doorstep? The answer wasn’t clear to you, when she turned around you lost the chance to say that she shouldn’t worry since you were planning to spend the whole weekend in your room.. Now you were just trying not to look disappointed when she didn’t give you a hug as she disappeared into the kitchen.

You followed her, taking off your converse and throwing them somewhere in the hall. Your mom had enough energy for you both, it was like she forgot that you had been driving all morning to get there, maybe she thought you arrived on a jet, you didn’t know. You thought your tired face was sign enough that all you needed was a hot shower and a long nap.

“What am I gonna do?” She murmured to herself, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that you were there earlier. “Your room isn’t ready yet!”

You scowled, sitting on one of the kitchen stools. “What do you mean my room isn’t ready?”

“We’ve been using it as a storage room lately, until Phil adjusts himself.” She told you, but you didn’t understand a word she said. Storage room? Why was your mom’s boyfriend using your bedroom as a storage room?

“Mom, what are you talking about?”

“I’m sure I told you!”

You shook your head “Tell me what?”

She tilted her head with her mouth hanging open. You visibly saw her trying to remember something, filling the room with silence. Then, it hit her, her silence suddenly broke into laughter, she realized that, whatever was she was talking about, she didn’t tell you, you just didn’t know what. “Darling, Phil moved in september, how come we didn’t talk about this?” She let out, wondering out loud. “We are still getting the hang of it, he still has a lot of boxes, we decided to put it in your room for now.” She explained, like it was nothing, but you knew it wasn’t. It took her a long time before she introduced you to Phil, she always made it clear to him that her priority was her kids, so it was a big step for her to let Phil move in.

You shook your head, immediately avoiding her gaze when you felt a sudden rush of guilt washing over your body when you tried to remember when was the last time you spoke with your mom on the phone apart from last month, when you told her you were coming today.

“Oh, mom, I had no idea.” You said as if you were apologizing, you kinda were. “I’m gonna start looking for somewhere else to crash, I still don’t know for how long I’m staying.”

She waved her hands, rushing to interrupt you “My God, sweetie, no! You know you can stay here for as long as you want, this is your house!” She said, but you struggled to believe her “But I really thought you were coming next Friday! When was your last show?”

God, the last thing you wanted to think about now was work.

“Just last week.” You replied, hoping that she wouldn't want to comment too much about it.

“How was it?” She continued to ask, going against your wishes.

Terrible, you wanted to say, you couldn’t wait to get off the stage. You did your job and you left, all your partners begged you to stay for the after party but you were exhausted, you left as soon as you could. That was supposed to be an important moment for you, the wrap up of your first main role, a clear achievement of your short career. After you did the first show of the season you went to bed wishing it could last forever, but last week you were just relieved that it finally ended.

You wouldn’t tell that to your mom, you didn’t want to worry her, so you just told her a little white lie.

“Oh, it was great.” You smiled, hoping that in that way it would be more believable. “I had a great time, but I needed to come back home for a while.”

“Well, you worked hard, now you deserve to rest” She said “And besides that… how have you been, huh?” She asked with a soft voice, making you raise your gaze to find her warm eyes and a warm smile. You failed to remember that you couldn’t lie to your mom, she always saw through you, and to be honest she would be a fool not to notice the tired look on your face. It bothered you just a bit that the main reason why she was asking about it was because of the breakup.

“Why, because of Ian?” You asked.

“No just because of him, just… how have you been about everything?”

“Well, fine, I think so.” You kept lying “Me and him… I don’t know, I don’t think I felt the same way about him anymore, I had to end it, I’m sure he deserves someone who feels the same, right?”

She hummed, not really convinced. “You deserve someone like that, too, don’t you think?”

“Maybe.” You sighed “But that topic gives me headaches.”

Your mother snorted, “Well, don’t expect me to be satisfied with that answer, after you take a nap I’m gonna ask you all about that.”

“How nosy.” You chuckled. “You just want to talk shit about your ex son in law.”

“Of course, don’t act like you don’t want to do that too, I know you too well.” You rolled your eyes, but of course she was right. “Anyway, since I thought you were coming next week I planned a dinner for tonight with everyone, they’ll be so happy to see you, but you know, I understand if you want to skip it with everything that’s happening, I’m sure no one will ask about it, but still. You came here to be alone so I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed around a lot of people.”

“Ask about what? The news isn’t out yet” You asked, confused.

Your mom turned around again, looking as confused as you. “Haven’t you checked your phone today?” She asked cautiously.

“No, it died a few hours ago. I haven't had the chance to charge it in the car.” Your words made her confused expression fade into a concerned one.

“Darling, you might want to check it now.” She pointed to the charger that was connected next to the fridge. The look on her face could only mean that something wasn’t okay.

You slowly got off the stool, heading towards the other side of the room as you took your phone from your pocket to connect it to the charger. You knew it was just a matter of time until people found out that you and Ian broke up, but you thought the news would’ve be handled the same way as always, a statement from both you, the only reason why you didn’t do it yet was because you and Ian weren’t talking since the proposal happened.

When your phone finally turned on, a rush of anxiety ran down your body when a thousand notifications began to appear on the screen, including fifty missed calls from both your manager and publicist, you had a feeling that maybe the situation was worse than you thought. “What the fuck happened?” You murmured to yourself, looking at your mother in search for answers. “Did Sally call you?” You asked her, fully knowing that Sally, your manager, had strict orders not to bother anyone in your family with calls about anything related to work.

The room suddenly fell in silence, your mom hesitated to answer, you knew she didn’t want to be the one to give you bad news.

“No, but a friend of mine sent me an article.” She explained, her voice suddenly sounding small. “I didn’t read it, you know, I didn’t even open it, I don’t like gossip.”

Your mind tried to put two and two together; missed calls from your manager, an article about you, gossip, that didn’t sound fucking right.

“Fuck, I have to call her.” You gritted your teeth, wasting no time marking her number. You felt your head swirling just by imagining the sound of her voice yelling at you for not answering her calls.

Less than five seconds later, like she was waiting by the phone, she picked up. “Fucking finally.” Was the first thing you heard, “Where the fuck were you?”

The irritated tone on her voice took you by surprise, making you jump in you place “Driving, for four fucking hours.” You rushed to say “My phone was dead, what is going on?”

You heard her inhale, trying to keep her calm “Every single person in the world is trying to reach me right now except you. It’s a mess.”

“What?” You try not to yell “I just got home, I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Honey, it got leaked, has no one told you yet?”

Then, a beat of silence. The stress on her voice is enough to make you believe her, you didn’t have to think twice. Of course something like this was going to happen to you, you couldn’t run away from the city and pretend everything behind was going to stay as it was, your life from six hours ago was still there, and it was still a fucking mess.

“What part?” Was the only thing you could say. You felt yourself entering a cloud of uncertainty, your fist clenched on your lap and while you listened to her sighing, preparing you for the answer, you held your breath as if that way you could stop time.

“Everything.” She spat. “Listen, I didn’t want to freak you out with this, I tried to keep this situation on the low but it happened anyway. The story’s out, pictures are out, every fucking thing is out.”

You suddenly tense, feeling your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach

“What? What do you-?” You stuttered.

“I know you didn’t want anyone to find out about the proposal but it's the main headline, sweetie.”

Sally is not someone who’s known for sugarcoating her words, she was straightforward and didn’t mind being the person who delivered bad news, but today you could tell she was especially stressed, you were sure she was trying to handle this issue alone with you being gone for hours.

“Fuck.” You hissed “What about him, have you called his manager?”

“Of course I called his manager, but all of a sudden that prick doesn’t want to collaborate with me on this, apparently Ian doesn’t fucking care, how about that?”

“How come he doesn’t care?” You asked exasperatedly.

“That’s the idea that I got when his manager told me to manage this issue myself.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath as you took a moment to think about it. You knew Ian well enough, but you always held onto a kind version of him, the version of him who made you stay for so long, the version of him you chose to remember so your memories weren't all bad, but that version made you felt guilty for the question that was rotting on your mouth, waiting to be spat.

“Do you think it was him?” You asked her, but her bitter laugh on the other line made you realize it wasn’t a difficult question to answer.

“I mean, would that be so crazy?” She said “You and I are pretty sure who called the people to take those pictures. He's not happy, honey, to him this is just payback for what you did.”

That word echoed in your mind for longer than you would’ve wanted to, was that the way he decided to put this to an end? Payback?

Four weeks ago, you thought that was it. When you were at the backyard of the house of Ian’s grandparents and you saw him on his knees, asking you to marry him, you thought that was the moment when every bad decision you ever made caught up to you, when everything exploded in your face. Now you realized it didn’t end there, everything you’ve done still has consequences.

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore your mom’s eyes in the back of your neck. You left the room, coming back to the hall so you could be alone. You couldn’t just hang the phone and pretend none of that happened, as tempting as it sounded, you had to take care of it. “Okay, now what? Can you clean it?”

“I’ve been trying, but it can’t disappear, you know? It’s been up for a few hours.” She replied.

You nodded, as if she could see you “Okay, listen, it doesn’t matter. I can’t deal with this right now, I don’t care where it came from, I don’t care how the pictures look, what people are saying, I don’t want to know any of it. If people saw it, I don’t give a fuck, it’s me who doesn’t want to see it.” You firmly said “If the story’s out, fine, but I don’t want any major media posting the pictures, can you do that?”

You heard her humming “Mmm, are you sure you want to handle it in that way? No statement to the media? No post on instagram? Just radio silence?”

The thought of making a statement about your relationship in public made you want to throw up, “Are you kidding?” You laughed “There’s no way I’m making a statement about this if you can’t even get Ian’s manager on the phone for him to do the same. If I say anything about this and he stays quiet I’m going to look worse of a villain than I already am for rejecting him.”

“Honey, I don’t think you understand this.” She stopped you, “This isn’t just news that you broke up, this is news that he proposed to his girlfriend of three years and she said fucking no, a.k.a a scandal.”

You rolled your eyes, wanting to curse her for treating you like a five year old child. “No, hear me out, I’m not playing his game anymore.”

“You’re not the one who’s playing his game, he’s the one playing in yours.” She emphasized, “Let me be clear with this, and I’m trying to be nice even though I’ve been working all morning to get this to disappear just for you. You were the one who decided that the relationship was going to have this kind of publicity, you can’t back down now. This could harm your image, you need to make a statement whether he does the same or not.”

You stopped for a second, hating how right she was. Every bit of your relationship with Ian was out to the public, that was the whole point of it from the beginning. Your image as an actress wasn’t entirely constructed by your work, you took charge into making every piece of your private life part of it too, you sold it of your life to the public. After so many years of sharing everything with the media and fans, you knew it would be strange to stay in silence now, but in a matter of seconds the words piled up in your mind, making you see how ridiculously soulless a statement like that would look, lying about how much love and respect you held for Ian but at the end it didn’t work out, that you decided to stay as friends since you still loved each other so much, when the truth was that he was the one who leaked the pictures in the first place.

You were once again reminded to face the consequences, and that was what you were about to do.

“Sorry, Sally, but I'm not making a statement.” You let out, nervously tapping your foot against the floor “I started it, you’re right, but now I’ve decided to end this here. This is my private life we’re talking about, let me keep this thing to myself. The only thing that they need to know is that we’re no longer together, and from now on the only information they’ll get of me is about my work, are we clear?”

Your whole body shook in anticipation, expecting her to yell at you and tell you to do whatever she said, because you knew she knew better. You hoped she somehow didn’t see through your mask, you weren’t as hard as you wanted to sound, you weren’t as confident as you wanted to be. For years working with her you trusted her advice against all odds, and you knew she always meant well, she was just doing her job, but at this exact moment in your life you needed to stay silent.

She hesitated to answer, battling with herself and the love she had for you. “Look kid,” She said “I’m going to let you do what you want, but if this doesn’t end well I’m going to look for you in whatever farm you’re staying in right now and I’m going to strangle you, now are we clear?” She asked, repeating your last words.

It took you a second to understand what she just said, you felt so anxious you didn’t understand if she was giving you a green light or not. When you snapped out of it, you realized it was the closest you’ve felt to be relieved.

“We are clear.” You confirmed.

“I sure hope so.” You heard her sighing once again “I’ll make it disappear and you make sure to keep your phone close in case something happens. Can you do that?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m sorry for the trouble.”

“It’s fine.” She brushed it off “At least you’re not dead, I would’ve felt guilty for cursing you so much.”

“God, maybe the news of my death would make the news about the proposal disappear.” You tried to joke, fighting against the horrible feeling you still had on your stomach.

“Okay, kid. I’m hanging up before you get more morbid. Take care, okay?”

You chuckled quietly, “Thank you, Sally” You said before she hung up “Really, I appreciate it.”

The call ended, leaving your ears ringing and your heart hammering against your chest. You stayed in the hall, sitting on the first steps of the stairs and trying to make sense of what just happened.

You were aware that Ian was angry at you, you couldn’t tell if you broke his heart but you knew that you hurt his ego, and somehow that was worse. You had to admit that your ego was as big as his, so you understood he had to do the same thing to you. Sally was right, you led yourself to this, you managed the circus that was your public life and you were the one who chose him to cover up how miserable you felt. You still felt your blood boiling just by thinking how cruel it was what he did, and at the same time you couldn’t allow yourself to be angry at him because you thought you had it coming.

You thought you were so stupid for thinking that once you got here you were going to be okay, as if you could run away from yourself, as this house was a bunker, protecting you from everything you ever did. Suddenly, you felt all your emotions stacking up your throat, you felt your eyes burning before your whole face was soaked with hot tears of regret, you didn’t even remember when was the last time you cried, that’s how fucked up you were.

You covered your face, sobbing against your palms as you tried to calm yourself, remembering your mom was waiting for you in the kitchen and you had to come back to be a functioning person, but before you could, you heard her steps approaching you, gasping when she found you crying.

“Darling, what happened?” She asked, the concern in her voice made your heart hurt.

You quickly wiped your tears with the sleeves of your sweater as you watched her kneel beside you. “Nothing, just…” You tried to lie, but what was the use of that? She would know, and you were still going to continue carrying the pain on your chest for the rest of the day. You shook your head, feeling her thumbs wiping your tears from your face.

“It doesn’t look like nothing.” She whispered, like it was a secret between the two of you. “It’s about the article, right?” You nodded.

“It’s…” You inhaled, trying to catch your breath. “It’s about more than that.”

And then, the truth. As if you were a criminal caught in the scene of the crime, you had to tell the truth.

After you spent the whole afternoon trying to explain to your mom what was going on with your life, nothing could erase the worried look on her face, looking at you like you were thirteen and you had the flu, wanting to take care of you until it went away.

You felt ashamed, but you couldn’t keep lying to her, not completely at least. You had to tell her that you were never really in love but you felt so alone back in the city, you didn’t have anyone else. Most of your friends were fake, you were tired and sometimes overworked, not even your job was making up for the miserable life you were living anymore. You knew Ian was seeing other women and you couldn’t even find it in yourself to confront him about it, terrified that he’ll leave you in your big apartment alone. Your mom listened with a frown on her face, confused, asking why you never told her, asking why you never called, and you felt so embarrassed, so guilty for disappearing for so long.

“I’m sorry” was the only thing you could say, and even though she waved it off and said that you didn’t have to apologize for anything, you knew that wasn’t real. You had a bunch of this to apologize for, you didn’t even know where to begin.

After a shower, she offered her room for you to take a nap, and as you got into her bed, she sat next to you, hugging you for the first time in months.

You breathed out against her chest, feeling like a kid again around her arms. It was like she was trying to extract the sadness out of your body, and maybe it worked for now.

“You’re still invited to join us for dinner tonight, you know?” She murmured “I know you’re sad but it’s just us, maybe it’ll cheer you up.”

You nodded, “I’ll think about it, is that okay?”

“Of course, darling.” She smiled, kissing your forehead before getting up to leave.

Before she opened the door, you stopped her.

“Wait mom, who’s coming?” You asked before she disappeared from your sight.

She turned to you again, smiling. “Your brother, of course.” She said “He’s bringing Yoongi and his mom, I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to see you.”

You snapped your eyes open, but before your mom could see your reaction she disappeared through the door, leaving you alone and with your heart clenched in your fist.

@kingofbodyrolls @tea4sykes @overtherainbow35 @namin13 @p34rluv @moonchild1 @oukya @yoongisoftface @namgihours @honsoolgloss @idkjustlovingbts @loviyunki @yoongisducky @bangtansmauyeondan @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @hopefulchick @heroinanne

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi one shot #yoongi masterlist #bts masterlist #bts smut #bts x oc #bts x you #bts x reader #bts au fanfic #bts au #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x oc #min yoongi fanfic

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tommydarlings · 1 year ago

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Little Love Letters | c.s

pairing: dark!neighbour!mean!dom!carlos x sub!reader

warnings: psychotic behaviour, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, pure manipulation, inappropriate usage of ropes, usage of a knife, smut, cnc, dacryphilia, forced blowjob, gagging, brief mentions of killing somebody, brief mentions of stalking

w/c: 3.1k

summary: After receiving multiple creepy letters by an unknown stranger, you scarily run into the arms of your sweet, spanish neighbour carlos — sadly, you ran into the worst embrace you could have possibly ran into.

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Feeling lonely in your 20's is probably something a lot of people feel. The problem is, that literally all of your friends — who are the same age as you — are most definitely not lonely, they are either in a relationship or already married, one of your old Highschool friends just recently gave birth to her little babygirl.

And you are not even able to remember the last time when you talked to a man that wasn’t your gay best friend or your neighbour carlos.

Carlos, the kind Spaniard next door was very sweet and also quite attractive in your opinion, but you still never really felt the specific spark between the two of you when you crossed paths and talked for a bit.

But even though you had no partner and only a few friends that you barely saw since you’ve moved, you didn’t feel that alone.

Especially not since some unknown stranger — or maybe even 'secret admirer' sent you letters, every. single. day.

At first, you thought that it was a joke and ignored it, but after you’ve received the fourth letter, you knew that this was not a joke, this was serious.

Of course it scared and confused you, since nobody expect for your three friends know your new address, but at the same time, it wasn’t that bad.

Sometimes, this mysterious stranger filled the letter with sentences like,

“Each time i see you, you only get prettier.”

“You are the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen, my love, ever.”

“I wish I could kiss you right now beautiful, wish I could feel your lips on mine.”

But sometimes they brought tears out of pure fear into your eyes,

“One day I will get you into my hands and I will never let you go, I promise you that y/n.”

“You will be mine, if you like it or not my darling, you will be mine.”

“I would kill for you, I would do absolutely anything for you y/n, anything you want me to.”

You gulped as you read those words, sometimes even wiping some tears away since some of his letters were filled with dark and psychotic sentences like that.

And since you were so scared — and also since it got everyday only worse and worse — you ran to the only person that you knew in this new town, your neighbour Carlos.

When you knocked in his door on a cold night at around 9 p.m., Carlos looked at you like you were crazy since you were only in a lose pair of jogger and a thin tanktop, making him quickly step aside and lead you into his cozy and especially warm home.

“Cariño, what are you doing here, don’t you have a jacket or a coat? C'mere,” he told you, placing his hand onto your back and leading you into his house, “It’s so cold outside, you’ll probably catch a cold y/n.”

But you only shook your head before you sat down onto the big couch in his living room, biting your lip before he got on his knees in front of you, being almost at eye level with you now.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Carlos quickly raised his brows before he scanned your body with his eyes, rough palms reaching out to grab your hands, turning your arms around and glancing at your unharmed skin.

You sighed before you pulled your arms away from his touch, briefly making him gulp. And if you haven’t lost your mind already, you could have sworn that you’ve noticed that he looked rather mad at you for a quick second as you basically threw his hands away, but you were probably just seeing things by now.

After letting out a long sigh, you shook your head, “N-No, I’m not hurt, don’t worry Carlos,” you spoke up, making him release a long breath, “I guess I’m just a bit…scared,” you admitted as you felt tears building up in your eyes, quickly trying to blink then away as the Spaniard furrowed his brows,

“Scared? Of what?” He asked you, lightly stroking your legs with his big palms now, listening to your voice explaining everything to him,

“It’s just, there are those extremely weird and scary letters that I’ve been receiving for a while now-”

Carlos immediately interrupted you, “For a while? Cariño, for how long? Why have you never told me,” he asked you in a strong Spanish accent.

“About a month now-”

“A month?” The Spaniard raised his brows, caressing your legs, “You should have told me y/n.”

You gulped before you shook your head and muttered a quick 'it's nothing' before you went on,

“Of course I felt a bit…watched as I got the first letter but the letter was actually filled with…really nice and sweet words, so I just smiled before I threw him away,” you continued your story, swallowing down some tears while you felt Carlos squeezing your knees almost like he was mad about the fact that you threw them away,

“But after some while the letters got…worse.”

Carlos tilted his head to the side, shaking his head before he spoke up with furrowed brows, “What do you mean when you say worse?” He asked you, thumb caressing your cold skin now,

You cleared your throat, “Well, they got creepier, sometimes this unknown stranger wrote things like, 'I would kill for you' or 'I am the only one you’ll need for the rest of your life,” you told him before you sniffled, quickly wiping a single tear away, making Carlos change his almost too serious facial expression in a matter of a second.

“Oh no, cariño,” he immediately spoke up as he noticed your wet eyes. Carlos raised one of his hands and wiped your tear away, cupping your cold cheek with his big, warm hand afterwards.

“Don’t cry, I know that all of this is very scary for you,” he mumbled reassuringly, “If you don’t feel save enough in your house, you can stay at my place tonight,” he suggested as you looked down at him, “I will keep you save, I promise,” Carlos told you with a sweet smile, making you laugh into his palm.

Carlos briefly laughed along before he stood up, towering over your sitting figure now, hand brushing your hair out of your face now,

“I will always keep you save, mi cariño,” he told you with more of a serious tone, only a tiny smile covering his lips now, making you quickly furrow your brows before you smiled up at him,

“Thank you, Carlos.”

“Oh,” he chuckled before he made his way to the kitchen, “No need to thank me.”

You wiped some more tears away before you stood up, Carlos standing in front of you now with two glasses filled with probably very expensive red wine, making you gasp.

“Only one glas, cariño, c'mon,” he smiled at you, basically pressing the glass filled with the alcoholic beverage already in your hand without giving you a chance to say anything.

You chuckled and flashed him a wide smile before you mumbled a quick 'okay', both of you saying a quiet 'cheers' before you emptied your glasses, Carlos closely watching you while you just enjoyed the wine.

“Wow,” you spoke up as you handed him the glass, “That was a really good one, not gonna lie…definitely needed that one,” he laughed at your statement, cleaning the glasses while you just stood in the big kitchen, slowly blinking your eyes.

Carlos turned his head and looked back at your slightly stumbling figure. And if you weren’t hallucinating, you could have sworn that you saw him smirking at you.

You gulped before you released a deep breath, smiling in his direction, or at least you tried to smile in his direction, “That w-was a s-strong one,” you chuckled before you heard Carlos chuckling as well, making you furrow your brows as you felt like the entire room was spinning around you, groaning as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Oh really?” He asked you, honestly, you were very surprised that you were even still able to understand him.

You swallowed before you touched your head, desperately trying to stop the spinning, “Y-Yeah, a very, very s-strong one, c-carlos,” you whined out, gulping a second time.

you blinked another time, and another time — and this time, your helping neighbour stood right in front of you.

“C-Carlos, I don’t feel,” you breathed out as you felt like you were on the brink of fainting, “so g-good,” you finished your sentence, quickly falling straight into the arms of the Spaniard, passing out in his warm embrace.

Carlos sighed after he caught you, “Each time I see you, you really do get prettier mi cariño.”

- - -

Waking up with a headache, with the feeling of a bit of dizziness and ropes around your wrists and ankles, was definitely something new for you.

Desperately, you tried to get free by tugging on the ropes that are attached to the wooden bedposts but no matter how hard you tugged on them, I didn’t work, there was no chance for you to escape any of this.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Carlos suddenly spoke up, making you lift your head and look with wide eyes at your Spanish neighbour. You gulped before you spook up with a trembling voice,

“C-Carlos,” you nervously breathed out, furrowing your brows as he stood next to your tied up figure, fingertips now gently running up and down your bare leg since he only left you in your underwear. “W-What is g-going on?” You asked him as you felt his hand creeping closer to your barely covered pussy.

Carlos only grinned down at you before he answered your question, “Let’s play a little guessing game, alright?” He tilted his head to the side, waiting for your answer.

Suddenly, Carlos pulled a little but sharp pocket knife out of his pocket, opening it, clearly wanting to make sure that you know how serious he is about his 'little guessing game', so you quickly nodded your head.

“Good,” he replied before he went on, “Do you think that… a man, send you those letters?” He asked you curiously, making you slowly nod, “okay,” he nodded along your silence answer, “Do you think that the man that send you those letters, knows you? I mean, like, has seen you before in person?”

You gulped before you nodded again, briefly squeezing your eyes shut as his big fingers started to circle your clit,

“Do you think that you know him?” Carlos asked you, briefly focusing his gaze onto his moving fingers now before he looked back at you.

You nodded again as tears build up in your eyes, hands tightly gripping the ropes as you felt like you were getting close to your release.

He nodded along again, “okay,” he quietly muttered, “Listen, I’ll give one last hint, alright?” Carlos asked you, making you quickly nod again,

“He said that if he gets you in his hands one day, he will never let you go, he promised you that,” he told you with a wicked smile on his lips right before you widened your eyes, tears gliding down your heated cheeks as he made you come through your panties with the tip of his fingers.

You wildly trashed around as you gasped and choked on your cries, sniffling and whining while Carlos slowed his movements down, eyes still looking at your face. He groaned,

“Just like that, mi cariño, that’s my good girl,” he whispered before he asked you, “Who do you think wrote those letters now?”

You gulped with fresh tears in your eyes as you looked up at him, squeezing your eyes shut as the realisation came over you, “Y-You did.”

He nodded, “That’s right, smart girl,” he quietly replied with a smile as his fingers left your pussy, gliding down to you ankles now,

“Since you were so smart and won the little game, I’ll get you out of those ropes now, okay?” He raised his brows as he lowered the little knife towards your ankle.

You barely had enough time to nod before he already removed the ropes around your ankles, quickly freeing your hands as well, giving you the ability to slowly sit up and look at him,

“What do we say? Thought you were so smart, baby.”

You gulped with tears in your eyes, “T-Thank you,” you slowly and softly replied, making him proudly smile down at you,

“No problem,” he replied with a nod of his head.

Then, Carlos stepped away from the bed, taking a few steps backwards until his back almost hit the door, making you furrow your brows before you wiped some of your tears away, focusing your gaze on his movements.

Carlos wiggled his pointer and middle finger in his direction, “C'mere,” he demanded in a quiet but stern tone, making you gulp before you stood up as well and slowly took cautious steps in his direction.

As soon as you were right in front of your fucked up neighbour, Carlos raised his head, clearly showing you that he’s visibly taller than you, making you feel unbelievably small in front of his broad figure.

“Get on your knees.”

You opened your mouth as you raised your head and looked up at the Spaniard, biting your lip as new tears made their way into your already wet eyes, “Oh no, no, no, mi cariño,” Carlos suddenly spoke up in a way softer tone as he cupped your cheeks, wiping some of the tears with the pad of his thumb away, “Está bien, solo ponte de rodillas por mí.” It’s okay, just get on your knees for me.

Without saying or doing anything else, you lowered yourself onto your knees since you were genuinely scared of him at the moment, knowing he could do anything he wants to you.

“Fuck,” Carlos mumbled under his breath, slowly running his finger through your hair, “Such a pretty sight, mi cariño,” he whispered in a deep tone while his other hand slowly unbuckled his belt, quickly freeing his very obvious erection.

You blinked some tears away since it all got so blurry by now, gulping again as he put the tip of his big cock in front of your still closed mouth.

“You know what to do, c'mon.”

Sniffling one last time, you opened your mouth, letting him shove himself into your mouth, hearing him groan and moan as he shoved himself so far into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat, making you gag around him.

“C'mon,” Carlos whined a bit, faking a pathetic pout as you just focused yourself on breathing through your nose, “J-Just like that, f-fuck yes,” he groaned as you squeezed your eyes shut and took him as far as you possibly could, briefly making him smile down at you.

“Buena chica.” Good girl.

You whined around his big, wide dick, fingers squeezing his navy blue slacks as fresh tears blurred your vision again as you looked up at him while he forced himself down your throat.

Your neighbour groaned as he caught your gaze, briefly chuckling under his breath as he noticed your smudged mascara under your eyes. Suddenly, he quickly removed himself from you, having a tight grip on your head by the roots of your hair, “Apologise,” he demanded in a deep tone, making you furrow your brows as you sniffled.

“W-What?” You spoke up in a quite and unsure tone, “For what, c-carlos?”

Carlos threw his head back before he growled, harshly grabbing your head and forcing your face towards his erection again, mercilessly shoving his cock into your mouth and down your throat, making you gag again.

But he only forced himself for a split seconds down your throat, then he pulled out again and forced you to look up at him, “Apologise,” he harshly repeated but you were still confused.

You whined, “F-For wh-” but before you were able to finish your sentence, Carlos forced his cock down your throat again, holding your head in that exact position for a few seconds before he let you go and pulled away again, groaning as he did so while you only whined and sniffled, quickly wiping some of your tears away.

His next move suprised you a bit, Carlos slowly bended down so he was eye level with you and wiped your tears away, pouting a bit and actually looking sad and sorry, “Do you really don't know what I mean?” He asked you in a rather kind tone, quickly making you shake your head as he wiped new tears away, stroking your cheeks afterwards.

He slowly nodded, “okay mi cariño, I’ll give you a hint again, alright?” He tilted his head to the side before you nodded your head, “o-okay.”

“What did you do with the first letters after you’ve read them?” Carlos asked you in a deep but kind tone, making you bit your lip as you through about what you’ve done after you’ve opened them and read them — and then it made click.

“I-I threw them a-away,” you slowly answered as soon as Carlos rose to his feet again, sternly looking down at you now, “exactly,” he nodded.

You gulped before you squeezed your eyes shut and quickly spoke up, smiling a tiny bit to make it seem more believable, “I am s-so sorry, c-carlos,” you wildly claimed, “I regret t-throwing them a-away! I swear t-that as soon as I-I'm home, I’m g-gonna get them o-out of the trash b-bin and f-frame them in my b-bedroom, I promise!”

Carlos only furrowed his brows and confusingly tilted his head to the side, “As soon as you're home? Mi cariño, you are at home! And don’t worry baby, I’m gonna go over to your house then and get them out of the trash bin for you and frame them myself,” he proudly told you, “and then we can hang them up! Either in the living room or the bedroom, wherever you want pretty girl,” carlos stated with a small smile as you gulped before you slowly nodded,

“O-Okay,” you answered before Carlos spoke up again, “Does that sound good for you, baby?”

You quickly nodded, “Y-Yes carlos,” you said, “sounds g-great.”

He stroked your cheek, briefly bending down to kiss the top of your head, “Perfect, I love you,” he claimed with a happy smile.

You looked up at him, briefly furrowing your brows before you replied, “I l-love you t-too.” You mumbled as you leaned into the touch of his palm with salty tears in your eyes.

#fanfic #fanfiction #fem!reader #f1 #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz one shot #Carlos sainz angst

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peace-for-levi · 1 year ago

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{when you need me...}

who would i be if i didn't project my mental health onto 2D characters/reader and not write about it? i see so many fics of reader being worried for nanami while he's out in shibuya and… we all know what happens there.

content warning: detailed descriptions of anxiety, reader refers to themselves as 'wife' (reader thinks they are a bad wife) and the use of 'she'. it's otherwise in the 2nd person perspective. negative self-talk/beliefs. use of pet names. nanami being the bestest husband. i miiiiight have made him OOC and overindulged on how soft i made him BUT ITS OK YOU GOTTA BE A DELULU IN THIS ECONOMY.

+18 discord server

No, you were not going to call him. Absolutely not! Or text him either, for that matter.

The anxiety had been bubbling away all day inside your head like billowing storm clouds. You were grateful work kept you occupied, but once you arrived home, you trudged to your bedroom. You didn't even change out of your work attire.

You knew the source of all this, too.

Nanami came home injured while you were out dealing with another curse of your own. Thankfully, he had dealt with the bleeding himself and got checked out by Shoko. But to see him come so depleted of energy – dark shadows hanging under his eyes like bats, shoulders heavy – left you extremely unsettled. You were already an anxious mess, and now there are talks of a special-grade 'patchwork' curse. Not to mention the two unregistered cursed spirits that Gojo encountered.

What was going on in the world?

Now, he had been called out to the school again. After being badly injured, no less!

What if he was asked to fight the patch-work curse again? Was that curse able to perform Domain Expansions? Your husband never reached that height of jujutsu…

Would he… make it home okay?

You worked a "normal" job, not being employed at as a teacher at the highschool. As a grade one sorcerer, though, you were sometimes called in on particularly difficult and awkward missions. Your figured your problems with anxiety in the past would slowly fizzle away if you quit working at that highschool; after all, they couldn't make you exorcise and hunt down curses as often if you didn't work there. In your naivety, you assumed that'd be the end to your worries. But they only persisted and got worse the longer your husband of four years continued to work there as a teacher.

You couldn't resent him for it, and you knew he found greater fulfillment in being a teacher than adhereing to the laborious life of a salaryman.

But, maybe… your selfish thoughts got the better of you when you wished he could work a more "normal" job like you… If he worked a job where his safety was guaranteed…

How could you say such a thing? What kind of wife says that?!

Your hand collides against your forehead, releasing a (poorly contained) groan. Your teeth continued to chatter.

Now, I'm a bad wife on top of everything else…

Gruesome images flood your mind's eye. It's obsessive, relentless. After all, you have to prepare for the worst to come, right…? That's what you always do.

If you were by his side, would that make you feel any more relieved? Just by seeing him? But like a jolt, any solution you try come up with is met with more disturbing imagery. It was so vivid, it is as if you were there.

All that gore and worry conjured up in your cursed, anxious little head. The redness – so much red – of your imagery. It seeps and spreads along the ground at a terrifying rate, the image of someone – Kento – bleeding out. No one is there to help him.

You are.

You aren't gifted like Shoko, though.

There is no amount of horror – be it from forms of media or the wicked imagination – that can prepare a person for seeing the life ebb from another; the hopelessness, the tearing at the soul that is the departing of the other. As your loved one leaves this earth.

You're anxious, you're spiralling… You just wanted him to be okay. You wanted him to confirm with you he was okay. But you disturb him enough already with your texts and calls during missions.

Of course, in reality, if you hailed for Kento, he'd drop everything to be with you. He always has.

You didn't realize your thumb was hovering above the 'send' button. Through bleary eyes, you can see a hastily constructed text. Loaded with typos and errors. You're hardly able to read it though. Thumbs fidgting, you toss the phone.

You knew, logically, that he would want to help. He always has helped. But god, maybe you wanted to be big girl for once and try deal with it without him? Maybe be a good wife who doesn't send him a barage of texts when she's anxious?

Anxiety is the leak in your boat. You have to find a way to patch that hole or you'll drown.

But how can you when your worries revolve around your husband's safety?

You try cling to the logic that he has never refused you, made you feel stupid or invalidated you. Ever. But why would you cling to logic when the voice of your anxiety echoes through megaphone at you.

Of course, you're a distraction. Of course, you're a nuisance.

You hadn't even done a single chore to help around the house today. Some wife you were…

Kento would tell you that these thoughts you have are ridiculous. But you couldn't help it. You felt like you were holding him back from everything he deserved – you were so blessed to have a husband like him. You counted your lucky stars to be with him, but you ultimately felt like you didn't deserve him.

But Kento wasn't here now. So all you had was your mind to bully you.

The thoughts come as an electrical storm in your brain that, quite honestly, are painful. It's different from a headache and it feels the same as intense sorrow. It's uneven breaths as you claw at your chest, and it feels like you're suffocating; all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. It's sobbing to the point of staining your shirt. The intense images come at you with cursed intent. Like being hooked up to a cattle fence - not enough voltage to kill but sufficient to keep things uncomfortable, paralysed with fear and unmoving. And you couldn't, for the life of you, talk yourself out of the spiral.

It wasn't as if you didn't want Kento to be there. You were just denying yourself of his presence. You thought you were being brave, you thought—

Ping!

You lower your hands from your eyes. You gaze at the phone, blinking owlishy, before picking it up.

You let out a groan. In anxiously twiddling your thumbs by your screen, you had sent the (questionable-looking) text.

You don't even have time to berate yourself, for your ringtone begins to chime.

"[F/n], honey. I don't quite understand your text," he greets. He goes back to doing what he was doing – it sounded like he was tidying something away. "Principal Yaga has us staying behind at the school to–"

He stops.

He immediately stops upon hearing you whimper over the phone.

"Sweetheart?"

You mumble, "I-I– Um, N-Nanami, I–"

What if he loses his patience today? Will this be the straw that breaks the camel's back?

You can hear him shuffling over the phone. "Talk to me, what is it? Are you hurt?"

You don't want him to leave work on your account. Damn, your thumbs! If only it stayed as an unsent draft.

You panicked. "I-I'm fine! I think I just–"

You hear him sigh. "You're a terrible liar… You're not fine." A pause. "I'm coming home."

"No, Kento, please–!"

The call ends there. Your fingers seize up and your phone falls to the bed. Your wrists bash off your head, hitting yourself. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

Ping!

Be safe. I'll be there in fifteen.

Your heart sinks, especially knowing that he'd probably break several road safety laws to get back to you as soon as possible.

Another notification arrives swiftly after that.

I love you. You'll be fine.

The fifteen minutes drag by so slowly. You're still rooted at the side of your bed. Not having changed, started laundry, started making dinner. You shake your head. It's frightful how automatically you chastise yourself for anything and everything. Once you hear the click of the door, you shudder and cower, waiting for him to come into your shared bedroom to berate you.

Your eyes are clamped shut still, even when you feel his calloused thumb rub at your knee.

"Oh, sweetheart…" he says, and when he speaks it's so soft. Soft like he'd holding fine china.

He's careful to not press your boundaries too much, not wanting to hold you tighter. But he doesn't sense any resistance right now. You let him hold you.

He holds you like you are the most precious and loveliest thing in his world.

(You are.)

As if you weren't crying enough already, his touch makes you crumble more.

"What has you so anxious, [F/n]?" he asks, rubbing your arms up and down. He pulls away briefly to ask, "May I sit?"

You nod and he sets himself down. You overwhelmed by his love. You always have been. He always spoils you with his soft, passionate touch and his gentle words. You sniffle and it takes every ounce of self control to not explode into a heaving, babbling mess (more than what you currently were.) You continue to sob into his arms.

"Shhh, shhh. You're alright, you're going to be just fine, sweetheart. But in order to be okay, you're going to have to stop holding your breath like that."

You hadn't even realized. You always had been an open book to him.

Breathe, breathe, breathe…

Your thoughts were so out of control, you were in a terrible cycle of either hyperventilating, or holding your breath. You shake your head, trying to break free. He doesn't let go entirely, but he loosens his grip. His hands hold yours, breathing deeply, as if trying to do it for you. You continue to resist, fighting his hold more as you take agonizing breaths.

"Let me hold you. Let me make things better. Let me stay."

You sob harder, knowing that once again he'll be picking up the pieces. Your pieces.

"What has you so worked up?" he asks, in between practiced, deep breaths.

Before you even have a chance to say anything, he whispers softly against your temple, "I love you. So, please, let me in."

And you let everything out.

He holds you close again once each and every worry comes out. He rocks you slowly back and forth, he plants the odd kiss to your dewy temple. He listens to you intently, taking in everything you say and more. He has heard these worries countless times before, and he listens to them as if these are being revealed to him for the first time. He gently 'shhhh's against your brow when you start to hiccup and unravel more.

As your husband, he wants to be able to promise you his safert; he wants to promise he'll come home in one piece.

But he can't do that. Because he doesn't know how any of this will play out.

So he hugs you, impossibly tighter.

"What can I do to help? Tell me what I can do to make it all okay…"

You want to be a good wife; you don't share the selfish thoughts you have, of wanting him to work at a normal job again. Even when he hated it, even when it left him feeling so drained.

So you say nothing and you let your little lie spread its wings.

You calm down in his arms, holding you until your limbs feel heavy. He continues to soothe you as best as possible. His voice was so achingly gentle, rubbing circles into your hips. It has your heart shattering into pieces.

Mindlessly, you mumble under your breath. "I just want you to be okay…" you admit.

He averts his gaze helplessly, because knows he can't promise you that. He relaxes and lays down on the bed, taking you with him. You undo the top button of his shirt.

He smiles sadly. It's the one thing he can't promise.

And though he'll never let you know, he feels like he fails in this duties as a husband.

But sometimes, he knows he's at least doing something right when he helps calm you down from such a state that you end up dozing off in his arms. He holds you til his arms limp and heavy.

In this blood-stained, fleeting life, he'll walk with you to the ends of this earth.

Even if he must depart early.

taglist: @levi-my-beloved @licuadora-nasir @nelapanela94 @whattheheckmidoriya @poisonpeche @unadulteratedtreecrusade @notgoodforlife @sckerman @theferricfox @happybird16 @jayteacups and idk who else

#cece; speaks #nanami kento #nanami #nanami kento x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #nanami fluff #nanami angst #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x reader fluff #nanami x reader angst #jjk x you #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento headcanons

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lightlycareless · 2 months ago

Note

I’m sorry if this is a weird question. It’s totally cool if you just delete this if it is but when faced with another guy bothering Y/N, would he be the type to punch a guy out, intimidate them, or talk out of it(y’know that suave way of staking claim so to speak) :3

Hello anon!!!

Ah yes, the ask I thought I hallucinated by some strange reason 🤣 like, I believed I already posted the answer to this but I didn't???

Either way, this gave me the perfect opportunity to do a bit of angst :) a little "Naoya and Y/N realize being together isn't all rainbows"

warnings: highschool au, kind of. slight mentions of violence. you really worry for naoya. he has yet a lot to learn about being a good boyfriend. it's the early stages of the relationship.

Enjoy!

Honestly, this moment… is something everyone around you awaited.

I mean, Naoya is brash, stubborn, rude, selfish, nobody gets along with him, doesn't have that many friends, so on and so forth.

Thus, it was only natural that he'd eventually rub someone the wrong way…

Or be rubbed the wrong way.

Your boyfriend, as stated, was a threat by himself, but when you were added into the mix, it's like all his foul traits doubled. Not to you, of course not, never to the only other person he considered worthy of him.

But towards those foolish enough to think they still had a chance with you after making his claim. To defy the heir of the Zen'in is to have a death wish—wasn’t that common knowledge by now?!

Yet, to those ignorant of this fact, he is nothing but patient enough to remind.

“—Naoya!”

It happened all so quickly. One moment you were being pestered by a faceless student, insisting you’d leave your boyfriend for someone better, a bit more grounded, implying himself to be that person…

And the other, you were crying, heart thundering and hands trembling as the horrifying sight of Naoya beating that same guy unfolded before you.

The fight did not go without retaliation of course, your instigator never intending to take your boyfriend’s punches without retaliation, which lead you to shriek when a particular sharp blow landed against Naoya’s left side of his face, prompting you to run to their side and do all in your power to separate them—

To no avail.

“Stop it, Naoya!” You cried, helplessly trying to get them away from one another; but you never could compare to his strength. Less when he was determined to continue so. “Please! St—stop! You're— you're going to— you’re going to kill him!”

“What is going on??” Nanami exclaims. It wasn't his intention to get near the commotion, always one to avoid trouble whenever possible, but upon hearing your frightened voice, he ran as fast as possible to your aid. “Y/N!”

“Ken—Kento—! You— You have to stop them!” You wailed, frantically tugging at this arm and evoking a sense of urgency. “They're going to—they’re going to kill each other if you don’t!”

The ones that ultimately manage to separate the two are Suguru and Satoru, just before the teachers stepped in, but not enough to prevent them from being reprimanded by them, taking them to the principal’s office to discuss their rightful punishment—regardless of who provoked who.

“After my family sues you, you're fucking dead!”

“Ha! Do you not know who I am?! I'd like to see you try!” Naoya guffaws.

“Stop it already!” Yaga exclaimed “You're already knees deep in trouble, the last thing you both need is to be expelled!”

Ultimately, the threat of being away from you is enough to keep Naoya willing. One would think that he'd worry more about his family and the issue this small disturbance would bring, but truth is that he's gotten out of worse predicaments: him getting into an altercation with a nobody is not something that would prevent the elders, or him, from sleeping.

Though your prolonged silence, the cold judgment imposed by your piercing eyes, and the subtle annoyance displayed in your touch would; feeling tiny for the first time in his life before you, even when you were so attentively tending to his wounds once dismissed.

“Why are you so quiet, princess? Don’t tell me I scared ya’?” Naoya begins, cutting through the awkward silence settling between the two with a teasing tone he hopes would make light of the situation—make you forget of the blood curling screams you let out when he was entangled with that irrelevant kid who’d more likely disappear tomorrow, and move on…

But oh, how wrong he’d be to choose that path. Make fun of your poor heart.

“What? Thought I wouldn’t win? You know me better than—”

“Is this what it is to you? A joke?” You sternly state, stopping tending his wounds and subsequently quieting Naoya up.

“A joke?” Naoya repeats. “A joke would be him thinking he could win against—"

“Seriously, Naoya?! Is that all you have to say?!” You cry, beginning to crack. “Why must you always take it a competitive thing??”

“Ah, so what was I supposed to do? Let him beat me??” Naoya countered.

“There you go again, taking my words out of context! I didn’t even say that!” you whined.

“Well, it’s not like you’ve given me much to work on, princess.” He scowls. “Why are you even so angry? If anything, I should be the one upset because I got hurt for you, and this is the thanks I get!”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?!” you gasp, offended as tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. “Was I the one that wanted this—this fight to happen? Did I tell you I wanted to see you get hurt?!”

“It’s kind of expected, don’t you think?” He states, making your eyes go wide. “We’re sorcerers, we’re bound to get hurt—if you didn’t want that then maybe you should’ve considered a different career—

Or a different boyfriend.”

“Is that—is that what you’re going to go with?” you firmly ask, as if giving him one last time to reconsider his words…

Which he did after you set aside the first aid kit, standing up with all intentions of leaving the room that he realized how gravely he’d messed up, quicky to grab your arm and pull you back to him; and though the wounds of his fight made it hurt, more so since you struggled against him, he did not relent.

“Wait, Y/N, please—That came out wrong, I didn’t mean—”

“And what did you mean, Naoya?” you say, with a trembling voice that made his heart sting even more. He’s just gotten out of one altercation to walk right into another one—how delightful. “If it isn’t to mock me for worrying?!”

“No, I wasn’t.” Naoya says, tightening his hold on you, as much as he could anyways. He just… he just didn’t want you to leave, not like this. Not when he needed you the most. “I would never!”

You don’t respond, there wasn’t much to say when his words didn’t match his actions.

“…I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“But you did.” You responded, and now he was able to hear the tears that had begun to slide down your cheeks. “You… you got into that awful fight instead of letting him go and almost got yourself expelled—no, worse! Killed!”

“But it didn’t happen, you know? You… you called for help, and we stopped!”

“Because you wouldn’t listen!” You wept, turning around and taking a good look at his face. Naoya wishes you hadn’t, however, because seeing you cry just broke his heart into a million pieces. “Neither of you!”

“Y/N—”

“You were like… like an animal out there.” You added. “Nothing seemed to snap you out of trance, and I—I got so scared—!”

“I didn’t mean to scare you either.”

“Does it even matter? You said so yourself, this is what sorcerers are supposed to do.”

“No, you know what I meant—”

“No. I don’t. I really don’t know what you meant.”

…

“I did this to protect you.” Naoya quietly adds. “I just… got so angry seeing you being bothered by that idiot, that I… I needed to do something. I needed to get him away from you!”

“…Why can’t you understand this isn’t what I wanted?” You sniffle. “I didn’t want you to get hurt, no matter the reason why.”

“I know, I know you didn’t—”

“Then… why did you do it? What made you so angry, enough to beat him up and risk your career?”

The thought of being undeserving of you. Naoya concluded. Because his words had unwittingly struck a nerve, a thought he’s tried his hardest to push deep within the confines of his mind, but until he makes amends with himself, he’ll never be able to escape that fear.

The notion that perhaps there is someone better out there for you… and that person isn’t himself.

And after the way he’s made you cry, such bitter tears… perhaps that was the truth.

“I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want.” Naoya quietly concludes, making your eyes widen once more. “So I will never hurt you again.”

“Naoya, that’s—that’s not what I want!” you gasp, heart clenching at the prospect of him leaving you. “Not at all!”

“What good of a boyfriend could I be if I all I do ends up hurting you?”

“And you think that leaving me wouldn’t do just that??” you fret. “That living a life without you won’t make me miserable?!”

“It seems I already do…”

“N—No! I don’t—I don’t want that! I—I can’t allow it!” you sob, immediately wrapping your arms around him. “I just got you… I don’t want to lo—lose you…!”

Now with tears in his eyes, Naoya tightly embraces you, pulling you as close as possible as he reassures your fears away.

“Princess…” Naoya breathes, cupping your face and making you look to him. “It’ll take a whole lot for me to ever leave you. Probably the end of the world—but you’ll never lose me, ever.”

“You don’t—you don’t know how awful it felt to not be able to do anything!” you confess. “I… I tried to get him off you but I—I couldn’t do it—I couldn’t protect you!”

“No, no, Y/N—That’s my job. I’m supposed to protect you, not the other way around.”

“But you—what about you? What if you need me? What am I supposed to do?”

“Leave all the heavy lifting to me, and you…” Naoya smiles, intertwining his hands with yours. “You can patch me up after, eh? Heal me up.”

“Nao—Naoya.” You sniffle, lips trembling as tears continued to flood your face. “Promise me you—promise me you’ll always be careful… please.”

“I promise.” He says, taking your hands to his lips and gently kissing your knuckles. “Though I doubt someone as talented as me might need to make such promises—it’s a given.”

“Don’t be silly…” you murmur, he chuckles. “As long as you’re a sorcerer, I’ll always worry…”

“Good thing I have my mochi to take care of me, hm? Have me in her thoughts while I’m away.” Naoya smiles.

“You better not come back too roughed up, then. Or I—Or I won’t be able to help much…”

“Not that I need much, your kisses are sufficient enough to make me feel much—ah, shit, princess?!” Naoya gasps, startled by the stinging sensation of the alcohol-soaked cotton pressed against his skin. “Should’ve given me a warning, at least!”

“I thought you only needed my kisses?” You gently tease, he frowns. “Sorry, I just needed to clean you up before you do anything else, you started bleeding again.”

“…Fine, I guess.” Naoya pouts, hissing whenever feeling the alcohol against his wounds.

“What will happen with… him, by the way?”

“I don’t know, he’s getting expelled I guess.” Naoya shrugs. “I’ll make it happen if not.”

“Naoya…”

“What? He was bothering you—think I’m going to let that slide? No one annoys my princess outside of me.”

“… Thank you, for protecting me, really.” You eventually murmur, putting away everything once done. You then lean forward, placing a chaste kiss over his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, little mochi.” Naoya smiles, kissing you once more. “My sweet damsel in distress, are you going to nurse me until I’m all better?”

“Don’t call me that—and do I have another choice?”

He snickers. “I guess not, but you wouldn’t want it any other way, would you?”

You smile.

“No, I guess not.”

…

“I wouldn’t mind if you dressed up as a nurse too, you know? Heard it helps for a faster recovery.”

“Don’t push it…

…

here, at least.”

Naoya smirks. Maybe he should get a bit roughed up once in a while.

Yes he'd beat up someone for you, naturally. let's not forget his go-to solution in grave situations is killing someone lol.

Anyways, I hope you liked this little something!! It's kind of refreshing to write the Naoya that has yet to learn how to approach you; like, I know I tend to write him perfect in certain aspects, but he was once a... brat, I guess haha. He doesn't know how to treat people, less the one he loves! We're bound to see more of this flawed Naoya very early in the relationship and I LOVE IT hehehe. I wonder what other stumbles I can write...?

Now, take care and hope to see you soon!!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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gayaest · 3 months ago

Note

I just want to say your Paravolley AU has helped me a lot with overcoming internalized ableism, made me learn about sitting volleyball, and has also gotten me to read and watch Haikyuu again after years. I've been a volleyball person my whole life but I got a sports injury in highschool and now use a cane (and hopefully a rollator walker in the future).

Kageyama Tobio has always been my favorite character and seeing him in your AU hit me really hard. Though we don't have the same injury, I saw myself in your portrayal of him very much.

Your AU had made me re-evaluate the Haikyuu manga and anime through a disabled lense, and made me fall in love with Furudate's story all over again. Even stronger than it was before. And I adore the parallels you decided to put with your own AU.

I've since been searching up if there's sitting volleyball in my area (with little luck so far but dammit I'm going to keep looking). I'm so disappointed that it's never been brought up to me when I got injured. I'm upset that I was convinced that I'd never have a place in volleyball again. I legitimately started crying tears of joy when I learned sitting volleyball existed.

Thank you so much for your AU. I think it'll have a special place in my heart for a long time.

This is a genuinely sweet and kind-hearted message, and I have to thank you for sending it.

It means a lot that my AU brings comfort to not only myself, but other disabled people as well — the idea that my experiences, thoughts, feelings, research, etc is being put to good use to help and soothe people is more than I could ever wish to achieve or want.

I think something so important in my AU with Kageyama is that he wasn’t born disabled, he got his spinal cord injury at one of the worst points in his life, while simultaneously losing his support system (grandfather). He had no idea how to cope with becoming disabled because the people he surrounded himself with previously (MiddleSchool Volleyball Team) all turned their back on him and his drive to still want to play volleyball and feel lost without it. In turn, he turns that anger and fear and disappointment into internalized ableism, and even some outwards ableism he doesn’t even realize he needs to fix, because it’s just something most able-bodied people get told or believe. He pushes himself past his limits, hoping that he could one day be back to his old self, but that old self no longer exists, and that’s something the Karasuno Sitting Volleyball team teaches him. They teach him acceptance, support, community, etc when he didn’t even know it existed before.

I’m glad my AU can resonate with so many people, and I wish I could blab even more about it because it’s always in my head constantly, so if anyone has any questions, feel free to ask about it.

Furudate’s story is truly amazing, and to me, it doesn’t lose it’s charm and meaning for me as a disabled person, in fact, in makes me want to form even bigger bonds with community and other disabled people.

Thank you again for the ask, anon! It’s very sweet.

#anon #paravolley au #paravolleyball #sitting volleybal #haikyuu #au #haikyu #kageyama tobio #i hope you can find a sitting volleyball team near you soon!

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akimoroll · 9 days ago

Text

giving in to the love.

chapter 4. this could be a dream.

chapters: 1 — 2 — 3

nagumo yoichi (sakamoto days) x afab!reader—wc 6.8k—alternate universe—read on ao3

cw—mentions of abuse and death. alcoholism. smoking. fluff. angst. aged up characters with highschool flashbacks. eventual smut. pwp. pwf. please MDNI!

But if I touch you, would you feel it there?

Could I trust love even if I'm scared?

Oh, I wish I could give like I'm longing to give

Oh, I wish I could live like I'm longing to live

And I lift myself and I close my eyes

And I sing sometimes to know I'm alive

I know I should figure this out on my own

But if you come by, could you take me home?

You found yourself slowly waking up in an unfamiliar space, with the sun still low partially filtering through the white curtains. As you lazily roamed areas your eyes could reach, you become aware of the scent of faint chlorine and fresh laundered fabric filling the air of the bleak looking room you’re in. Overwhelmed by grogginess and aching throughout your whole body, you drifted back to sleep.

Gradually, the soft rays of sunshine became harsher and crept through the gap in the curtains, waking you once more. You fluttered your eyes open and winced both at the brightness and the pounding in your head. As you forced yourself to sit up, you could feel the discomfort of the situation. Your mind slowly pieced together what had transpired—

Where’s Rion?

And the car?

Mom’s going to be so mad.

What happened?

Did we get hit?

Where is—

A nurse entered the room, interrupting your thoughts. Upon seeing you awake, they called for the doctor. They described what took place and how fortunate you were to miraculously sustain only minor injuries. When you asked them about Rion, they didn’t disclose detailed information, but they did tell you that she had already passed away.

What? No way.

No.

“I think you made a mistake. Can you please check her name again?”

“I’m completely fine so she’s also okay, right?”

“I think you got it all wrong. Can I please go see her?”

While they provided nothing but empathy and understanding regarding your circumstances, your mom was an exception. It’s as if she cared more about the car and all the expenses in between.

After being discharged from the hospital, you made the decision not to return to school. With the weight of guilt and self-blame, attending school seemed unbearable. Your mother had already blamed you for the accident, so what was the point? You were sure that everyone in school thought the same thing too.

But not Aoi. She went over to your house and didn’t tag anyone along for fear of making you uncomfortable.

Ms. Satoda kept calling your mom but she never answered them.

It was an accident, it wasn’t your fault. Don’t listen to them.

You’re gonna be fine. Just try coming to school tomorrow.

And so you did but you were back to your old ways. Your everyday life became monotonous once again—wake up, school, home, sleep, repeat.

Yet on Valentines day, a surprise shook you from your routine.

“What’s this?” You confronted Nagumo in the empty basketball gym with a chocolate heart box in your hand and a note saying he’d wait for you after class.

“Chocolates?” He answered in a quizzical voice.

You found it in your locker before heading home. He hasn’t talked to you since the accident—not that you wanted him either—and you thought: Is this some kind of sick joke?

You let out an empty chuckle, “I know what it is. Why?”

He didn’t know how to approach you after what happened. He was aware of it being a delicate matter and was scared to push you away if he said or did the wrong thing. He hoped to talk to you and thought it would be nice to do it on the said day. And oh boy, was he wrong.

Apologetic, he said, “For valentines. I was hoping to talk to—”

“Valentines? Are you serious?” You interrupted him, “Can you stop it already?”

His eyebrows furrowed, “I’m sorry, I just thought—”

“You thought what? That everything’s gonna be okay with just chocolate?” You retorted, raising an eyebrow.

He sighed, “That’s not what that is—”

“Then what, Nagumo? What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything. Just-” sighing, he clenched his jaw, “I’m worried, you know I care about you.”

“Oh, stop it, will you? You’re supposed to hate me!” You raised your voice.

Pinching his lips together, “I can’t do that.”

“What do you mean you can’t? Rion died because of me! Are you stupid?!” You hissed.

“That’s not true. It was an accident.” He hissed back.

You scoffed, “You know nothing!”

He raised both his hands, “Alright fine, maybe I don’t know anything!” In a pleading tone, he said, “But can’t you just let me be here for you? I lost her too!”

And it feels like you’re next—is what he couldn’t say.

As hurt and guilt consumed you, your voice quieted, “All the more reason for you to leave me alone.”

He closed his eyes in regret, he stepped closer, “Listen, I’m sorry…” but you backed away.

“No,” you shake your head, averting his gaze, “you should stay away from me. It’s for the best.”

His shoulders slumped and it’s as if you took his heart with you as he watched your retreating figure grow farther and farther away until you were out of sight.

┊┊┊

Nagumo takes you to his place. You were hesitant at first but he said he’s home alone for a week, and you thought having company isn’t so bad so you went along. You reflect on the irony of the situation and couldn't help but find it funny. Here you were, sitting next to each other, burying your faces in bowls of spicy instant ramen—his attempt to make you feel better and it worked because it’s the best you’ve had in a while, sharing it with someone deeply familiar, feeling a sense of belonging, even if it was only temporary.

“This is so good, I’ve never tried this brand before,” you say with a mouthful of noodles.

He nods, grinning as he slurps his bowl clean, clearly enjoying it as much as you. He leans back on his chair, pushing back his bangs off his sweaty forehead.

Completely unaware of his gaze, you continue to eat with yours half full. As you raise the chopsticks to your lips, a few strands of your hair fall and almost dipped into the bowl. He leans forward after noticing it, his hand gently tucking the hair behind your ear. You paused and glanced at him as the moment hung in the air.

Clearing his throat, “Your hair was…do you want to watch a movie after this?” He blurts out, not knowing what to say exactly.

You open your mouth and close it again, squinting, “It’s 2 AM, aren’t you sleepy?”

He ponders, humming, “Not really. So, yes?”

“Do you really want me to pass out on your couch?” You joked and proceeded to finish your noodles.

He chuckles as he continues to watch you, itching to play with hair. He could smell you every time you moved, wondering if it’s your shampoo or perfume, taking him back to when he sat beside you at the pub and when he kissed the top of your hair back in his car.

Curious, he asks, “Are you wearing perfume?”

You look over your shoulder, pausing to think, “I am,” telling him exactly what it is, feeling good that he noticed, “Why?”

He nods as he makes a mental note. You smell edible, is what he wanted to say. He internally shakes his head, “It suits you.”

Your cheeks start heating up, you look away, “It’s my first time wearing it,” you go back to finishing your food.

He couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction after learning you were wearing it for the first time—a silent claim, as if it’s a hidden part of you revealed to him alone.

You lean back on the chair as you glance at him with a satisfied smile, “Thanks for the meal.”

He catches a whiff again, unintentionally wetting his lips. He looks at you and then down to your lips, he taunts, “Your lips are puffy.”

With a lighthearted chuckle, you retort, “Yours too.”

He didn’t answer as he locked eyes with you and in that brief moment he had an inexplicable urge to be closer to you. He looks away, humming in response as he leans forward with his elbows on the table with eyes far away, rubbing his lips with his fingers.

You watch him. He hasn’t changed at all—he’s still a bit annoying with his constant boyish smile. Your eyes trail from his flowy hair to his nape, down to his strong looking shoulders and his evident toned back despite the thick fabric of his sweater. Well, maybe a little. He still slouches though. You smile inwardly.

“I should get going,” you say softly while still looking at him.

He turns to face you, resting his cheek on his palm, “Already?”

“I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

You would've stayed if it was solely up to you, but he has grown increasingly silent. Maybe he’s tired?

“Do you want me to drive you?”

“I’ll just hail a cab,” you reassure him.

He doesn’t answer and instead gives you a wistful smile while his fingertips tap on the table. After a long pause, he stands and saunters through the living room to fetch your bag and your coat next to his on the couch.

You trail after him to the foyer, suddenly feeling the urge to ask him what’s wrong, “It was nice seeing you,” you managed to say instead.

He looks over his shoulder before turning around to face you fully, answering you with a mere nod as he stands by the door.

You swallow, he’s still so quiet, “Did I say something wrong?”

He chuckles, his eyes glossy, “No, you’re fine.” he shakes his head a little. Swallowing the lump in his throat, “It was nice seeing you too,” he continued.

The silence feels awkward and uncomfortable as you stand motionless, as if unsure of what to do next. You know you should be putting on your shoes and leaving, but your mind is elsewhere.

Your thoughts race as you desperately try to recall if there was something you said that might have hurt him. The thought of parting ways with him again on a negative note gnaws at you.

There’s a lump in your throat all of sudden.

When I pass through this door, I’ll never see him again.

Closure? Are you stupid?

I already apologized.

Him being married is closure enough.

I’m the only one stuck in the past.

Don’t say it. Don’t say it!

“Are you okay?” He asks, snatching you away from your thoughts.

Your eyes shot up to his face with concern written all over it. You swallow and blurted out, “I missed you.”

He solemnly smiles at you, “Hey,” shaking his head slightly before speaking, “You know you shouldn’t say stuff like that to me.”

Why am I like this? Embarrassed, you stammer as you avoid his gaze, “No, you’re right. Sorry, I was just-”

He exhaled deeply before speaking again, “Took you long enough.”

Dumbfounded, you glance up to him: Huh?

His gaze softens, “I missed you too,” he exhaled while looking up before he settled his eyes on you, “You still wanna go?”

His question lingered in the air, the weight of its implications hanging heavily between you.

“Yes,” you utter quietly.

He nods with a tight lipped smile. As his hand reaches for your shoes from the shoe rack, you continue, “…with you.”

He stops in his tracks, slowly turning to face you. His heart pounds in his chest as he begins to comprehend the meaning behind your words. As his eyes locked onto yours, he saw a subtle plea painted on your face.

Those two simple words from you were enough to make him rush towards you. He drops all your belongings to the floor, dismissing all boundaries that had once separated the two of you.

You froze with your eyes wide open but you didn't pull away this time. Instead, you open up to him, letting go of all restraints and fears. You closed your eyes and parted your lips willingly as he poured himself to you.

As your hands extend towards him, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He leans down and encircles his arms around your waist, lifting you off the floor as he kisses you tenderly, leaving you breathless.

He guides you across the hall to his bedroom with your feet lightly shuffling backwards. His lips remain attached to yours, holding you tightly against him, almost as if he’s afraid to let you go, terrified of the thought of losing you once again. To finally be able to hold you—to taste you—is the feeling that he’s longed for.

Your gasp echoes in the room as your back meets the softness of his bed, your hair splaying across the sheets. His mind goes into a haze as he looks at you, the feeling of longing overwhelming him.

He drinks the sight of you—breathless, on his bed, waiting and only for him. You feel vulnerable under his gaze, a look you’ve never seen from him before. Your lips were glistening from his doing. He wants more, every single part of you. Everything.

Desire starts pooling inside you as he takes off his sweater. Tattoos that were once hidden now come to surface. It takes you back to earlier that evening when you saw the ones on his neck and fingers, wondering if there were more.

As the soft light filters through his windows, you allow your eyes to wander the details on his body, his chest heaving, the contours of his toned muscles and the veins snaking around his forearms. He’s gorgeous and it’s making your head spin.

He hovers over you as he kisses you, all lips and tongue, and oh so slow as his touch becomes desperate, hands claiming everything he could reach. All mine, he thought.

He takes his sweet time savoring you as if the world outside the room you’re in doesn’t exist, like nothing else matters. Only the gentle sounds of your kissing and fabric rustling filled his dimly lit room, and only you on his mind.

Your fingers trace along the muscles of his back, making his hairs raise. He moans into your mouth as his senses heightened, he wants more of your touch, more of you.

He puts his hands gently at the back of your head and around your waist as his strong arms effortlessly lifts you further up the bed.

He halts the kiss, his absence intensified your craving for him. You miss him already.

His fingers find the hem of your sweater and with a subtle motion, you shift, allowing him to slip your sweater over your head. He tosses it to the side, he feels his knees getting weak with you all soft and exposed with just your lacey bra beneath him, “You’re an angel,” he breathes.

Feeling shy, you covered your face with a pillow, “Stop it,” your voice soft and quiet.

He smiles and takes the pillow from your grasp, his fingers brushing against your own. It’s true, you’re perfect, he whispered before claiming your lips once more.

He places gentle kisses all over your face, making you giggle. He loved the sound so much that he starts nipping at your earlobes to hear more, he laughs with you. He trails wet kisses from your jaw to your neck as he catches a whiff of your perfume—inhaling and sighing against your skin.

You shudder under his touch as his large hands worked quickly to unhook your bra, setting your tits free. He buries his face against your chest with careful hands caressing them. His tongue skimming past your hardened nipples as he savors every needy whimper from you. Your whole body is tingling, you arch your back from anticipation. You’re dying for more and he knows.

He smirks against your flushed skin as you grab a fistful of his hair. Always so impatient, he teases while looking at you. A pathetic whine is all you could manage as his mouth finally closed around your nipples, suckling and swirling his tongue around it as if he wanted to swallow you entirely.

You shudder as he groans onto your tits, making you squeeze your legs together. You’re so sensitive, you writhed with every little thing his tongue does to you. He bites and flicks his tongue over it, making you gasp as heat builds up inside you.

You knot your hands to his hair, pulling him into a sloppy, desperate kiss, begging breathily: Yoichi, please.

I know—he whispers in between kisses—I’ll take care of you.

Hearing the aching in your voice, he pulls away, his trembling hands reaching for your pants, peeling it off with ease.

Your mind lifts as he runs his hand slowly over the lace of your panties. His fingers brushing over your clothed clit as his mouth circles around your nipples once again, you shudder.

His breath fans against the skin of your chest, hot and shaky. He hooks his fingers over the damp cloth of your panties, pulling it to the side. He’s so slow about it, making you moan—hurry.

His heart hammers in his chest, murmuring and hushing you, I’m here.

And then finally—his fingers brush between your folds, so warm, so wet just for him.

He presses his fingers onto your swollen clit as you buck your hips while your hands grip onto his forearm, begging him to move.

And move is what he does—fingers brushing and pressing all over your wet pussy, turning you into a whining mess.

His hand leaves you as he puts his fingers inside his mouth—licking and sucking your wetness—just to bring it back between your thighs, smearing his spit all over your cunt.

Dark brown half lidded eyes watching you intently as he slowly inserts one—your mouth drops open. He stretches you, with his finger for the first time. Slowly sinking deeper and deeper. You clench around him as he pushes it all the way inside.

I can’t wait to fuck you, he murmur, his thumb pressing circles over your clit. He curls his finger inside you, hitting the right spots, eliciting sweet sounds from you.

And then he adds another, your legs start to tense.

Fuck—is all you could whimper.

Soon, he smirks before claiming your lips. His kisses become sloppy as it trailed down to your chest, his lips all over you—moaning against your skin—as his desire grows more for you.

The knot in your lower abdomen tightens as wet sounds from your pussy and your labored breathing fills his quiet room. Your fingers cards through his hair as his digits curl, pushing in and out of your dripping wet cunt, making a mess on his bedsheets.

…feels so good. So good.

Your voice is so sweet, telling him you’re so close to cumming, making his already hard cock pulse in his pants.

He’s so good with his hands, you could feel yourself trembling, clamping on his fingers inside of you. He watches you intently, anticipating for you to unravel for him but you pull him into a desperate kiss as you feel the tension snap. He moans with you as he finger fucks you through your orgasm, pleasure rolling all over you.

He makes you cum for the first time and he’s barely even done anything. He keeps his eyes on you as yours flutters while he bites lightly at your lower lip, continuously gasping into his mouth.

He places soft kisses on your forehead as your body starts to calm down, cooing, you’re lovely, and other sweet nothings. He pulls his coated fingers out from you, making you gasp and clench around nothing. He licks and sucks on it, tasting your juices as he lays beside you. He lets you rest.

You turn your head to meet his gaze. He’s still the same Yoichi; still so patient and always willing to care for you. Your heart swells when he looks back at you with affection. It’s pathetic. Almost comical how you’ve pushed him away, afraid of the implications you might cause if you stay. Just for you to crawl back to him years later, a familiar place, seeking for a different outcome—knowing full well you shouldn’t.

“Let me take care of you too,” you say softly.

You don’t wait for him to answer as you sit up on the bed, reaching for his face. You brush away the hairs sticking on his forehead.

“You don’t have to,” he murmurs with his hand playing with the tips of your hair.

“But I want to,” you whisper, caressing his bulge. You lean forward and kiss him softly.

He let out a sharp breath when you move between his thighs, his eyebrows furrowing to the gentle and suggestive touch over his clothed cock. He struggles to maintain his composure, the sensation causing his body to tense slightly.

Your fingers work the belt free from the loops as his breathing grows heavier. The clink of the buckle hitting the floor echoes through the space. Slowly, teasingly, you lower the zipper, revealing the straining bulge beneath.

His hips twitch involuntarily, seeking more of your touch. Desire washed over you at how desperate he already is, you want to make him feel so good.

Hooking on the waistband, you tug his pants and boxers down in a smooth motion. His erection springs free making your mouth water. He’s big, you swallow.

You wrap your trembling fingers around the base as you slowly stroke his cock, making him shudder from the warmth of your palm. He’s so hard for you.

His eyes—usually so intent and focused—begin fluttering shut, his breathing becomes shallow and you haven’t done anything yet. You spit messily on the tip of his dick. He inhales sharply as you smear it all over, making his abs flex under your palm, rippling every time he breathes.

He’s lost it, mind ascending as you swallow up his cock—slowly, all the way. The tip of your nose hits his pelvis as he twitches inside your throat. You glance up at him as you gag on him balls deep.

As you keep your eyes on him, he drinks the sight of you: Who else…? His brows knit as his mind starts to cloud with jealousy and overwhelming desire. He’s far gone, murmuring your name, slurring curses under his breath. He reaches for your hand that's caressing his abdomen, intertwining it with his.

His whimpers and groans vibrated throughout the room, moaning from the soft, wet flesh of your cheeks and tongue. You pull back all the way, only for you to swallow him whole again, licking all over the tip in between. His dick buried in your mouth, bobbing your head again and again, and again.

He promptly sits up as he pulls you to him, making you gasp. He doesn’t want to cum, not yet. Strong arms guiding you to straddle him as he kisses you with desperation, bringing your bodies closer together. His fingers tugs on the waistband of your panties.

Let me taste you.

He murmured, motioning you to sit on his face. He’s aching to taste you, to make you cum again. You obey as you take off your panties with him helping you. He reaches for your hands as he reclines back on the bed, helping you move up a little.

Your legs tremble as you plant your knees on the mattress, your dripping wet pussy hovering over his face. He nods to you with pleading eyes, asking you to go lower with hands caressing your hips—come here.

You nod as you grip onto the bed’s headboard, lowering yourself to his face. He places sweet wet kisses on the inside of your thighs, making you shudder as you clench to nothing. The heat of your pussy finally touched his lips. You’re so sweet, pretty, and wet from earlier when he fucked you with just his hands.

He knows you’re still sensitive so he glances up to you as he gently licks your slit, teasing you, too light, like kitten licks, a whimper escapes your lips—more—making his dick twitch from the sweetness of your voice. Adamant to make you feel good, he glides his tongue all over your clit adding a little pressure this time, you shudder, your legs trembling.

So wet, he murmurs. He could bathe in your wetness, your pussy dripping for him. You let go as he gestures to you to sit all the way, wanting to drown in your pretty pussy. You whine as you press yourself onto his face.

He repeatedly runs his tongue over your clit as you gradually relax yourself—mewling and bucking your hips while you ride his face. As you get louder and louder, his dick gets harder. He’s making a mess out of you as he sucks on your clit in between flicks of his tongue, your juices dripping down his chin.

He glances up to you, slowly taking your hands from the headboard as he guides you to place them over your tits. He places his hands on top of your own as you begin touching yourself. Every ounce of shame and guilt leaves your body—everything feels so good.

A smile creeps in while he watches you, almost making him cum with the thought of you using him—murmuring how he makes you feel good, how you’re so close.

He stills his tongue out as you move your hips back and forth with his hands sliding down your waist, squeezing the softness of your skin, moaning into your pussy, encouraging you to keep going.

Your whines become needy, grinding on his tongue becomes messy. He aches for it. He wants nothing more than for him to be the reason for your undoing. A couple of more rolls of your hips, a couple flicks of his tongue, the knot in your abdomen finally snap. You shudder, riding his face as you come undone for him, making him rut into nothing.

He grips on your waist to pin you in place. He keeps sucking and licking—he’s drinking you, as if wringing every drop from you while you clench around nothing. You gasp from being oversensitive, your whole body tingling.

He pulls you down, flipping you onto your back, pinning you beneath his larger frame—his kiss so hungry and demanding. You moan into it as you taste yourself on his lips while he’s grinding his dick against your sensitive cunt, you cover him with your wetness. He can’t wait to make you feel even better; to make a mess out of you.

You wrap your arms and legs around him, he’s feverishly hot to the touch. He breaks away from the kiss, his weight suspended over you. You lean into his touch as he palms your cheek, his eyes searching your face, panting: Tell me you want me like I want you.

His voice is throaty, shaky, desperate. Eyes so eager and intense it could pierce right through you. He looks so lovesick that it almost hurts.

I want you, Yoichi.

Please, I need you—you choke on your sob.

He could almost feel himself ascending with the way you’re begging him, the feeling of you wanting him, offering yourself so willingly. He doesn’t want to keep you waiting, he’s dying to be inside you anyway. He pulls away a little, his hand dwarfing your waist, the other holding his dick to tease your entrance with his tip.

His precum mixes with your wetness as you lift your hips—bucking and aching for more of him. He stays like that for a while with his hands spreading your legs wide open.

Look at you, he murmurs. You swear you can almost see the hearts swimming in his eyes with the way he’s looking at you, you could cry. If only, you thought. He’s gonna give it to you, pour himself to you—all of it. All of me, he thinks. He was yours from the start anyway, even though he knows after all this you’re gonna run away like you always do.

You wrap your fingers around his cock, he shudders as you squeeze it, gliding your palms back and forth, hard and throbbing in your hands. He watches you with mouth slightly open, keeping his eyes focused, tracking your hand on him, exhaling, “Fuck—”

“I need you, hurry,” you beg breathlessly.

His brows furrowed as he moves lower, you hold onto his arms as he slides his cock from your clit to your entrance—gathering his precum and your wetness—fucking you through your folds. His breaths become fast and heavy, eyes locked on your pussy wide open for him.

He stops, he’s about to finally do it, and you can feel it. He slaps his length lightly over your swollen clit a couple of times, making you gasp. He pushes it in, slowly, just the tip. You look into each other’s eyes as you moan at the same time. He’s filling you up, stretching your walls. He’s going to make love to you—for the very first time—and you will take it; you will let him.

He shudders, breath shaky and heavy—Fuck, you’re so wet—slurring his words.

You clench on his dick as he pushes in further, he’s so snug inside you, so fucking hard for you. All you could do is whimper and hold onto him as you try accomodating to his size.

God, you feel so good. You’re squeezing me—he says, every word soft and airy—making your toes curl on his soft bed sheets—while he pushes his throbbing length deeper and deeper.

Your mouth drops open as he bottoms out, taking him balls deep. He leans closer to you, claiming your lips—sloppy, messy kisses as he pulls his cocks all the way out and thrusts all the way in, you moan into each other’s mouth.

He fucks you a little harder. So good, you fuck so good, you’re slurring your words. Your moans so sweet making him fuck you a litte faster, his cock throbbing inside you, his bedsheets absorbing the wetness gushing from your cunt.

He slows down, pulling away from the kiss. Look at it, he murmurs as you both watch his cock sinking down your dripping pussy. His brows knit with his mouth open as he watches himself move in and out of you—your wetness coating his entire length, creaming at the base—his groans thick with pleasure: Look how you’re taking me.

His hands meet the back of your knees, folding you, spreading your legs open for him. Your moans turn into sweet sobs of his name as he thrusts into you harder, deeper, with your legs above his shoulders. His breaths thick and heavy fanning over your contorted face.

The flesh of your thighs ripple every time his hips collide into you. His room once so quiet now filled with slapping wet sounds and your whines as he fucks you hard, your head slightly hitting the headboard while his cock hits all the right spots. He leans in for a kiss before resting his forehead on yours, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips.

You breathe out—Why?

He slows down his pace, rolling his hips you can feel him in your belly. He shakes his head and smiles, murmuring before kissing you again—you drive me insane.

Your mind goes numb as he puts his weight on you, folding you further in half. His hands snaked your back and settled on your shoulders, keeping you in place as he thrust himself deeper. You become a teary whining mess, begging for more as he bottoms out. Your walls clench around his cock, drooling all over his sheets. He sinks deeper, burying himself inside you, he’s making sure you’d remember him and you’d feel him for days after you leave.

He lifts you with him as he sits up, bringing you closer to him, he wants nothing more than the warmth of your skin. You wrap your arms and legs around him, slurring—I’m close, Yoichi.

I know, I got you, he coos. His voice is so sweet, so full of affection for you.

You can see his face clearly—mouth agape, breathing heavily with his eyes in a dreamlike state—as you grind down on him. His shuddering, his hands traveling all over your back down to your ass, squeezing, spreading you open as he fucks you deep.

You clench around him as you roll your hips over him again and again, your pussy swallowing him whole, chasing your high as you fuck yourself with his cock, telling him how good he’s fucking you. His eyes struggle to keep his gaze fixed on you as his eyes roll back from pleasure, mumbling curses under his breath.

Possessiveness hazing his mind. His lips meet your skin, placing wet kisses to your neck down to your chest, biting, sucking until it stings—marking what’s his. He’s worshiping you, murmuring your name, telling you how you’re so beautiful and how your pussy takes him so well, desperate to show how much he wants you, that he’s the only one who could make you feel this good.

His hands abruptly grips your waist, making you stop. You can feel him throbbing inside you as he breathes heavily against your skin, “What’s wrong?” You pant, concerned.

He chuckles, swallowing in between heavy breaths, holding you tightly against him, “Fuck, sorry, I just-” he looks up to you, his cheeks flushed, skin glistening, searching your face, “I don’t want this to be over.”

Your expression softens, like everything within you is melting. He’s so pretty, you could cry, “It’s okay,” you whisper, pushing his hair up from his sweaty forehead before cupping his face—a tender kiss, “You can have me again.”

He wasted no time, everything he’s holding back, he lets go. Pushing you back on the bed, he pins your hands above your head, your foreheads meet, sweat mixing. He fucks you deeper—face to face—with his other hand on the small of your back, thrusting you into him.

You exchange heavy, shaky breaths as he moves in and out of you. He could feel your walls fluttering around his cock as you chase your release alongside him, craving for more friction with him inside you.

He gets sloppier, his thrusts, his words, slurring vulgar things to you—voice thick with pleasure. He releases his hand on your wrist to grab the cheeks of your ass, lifting you. He’s thrusting steadily and deeply, burying his cock so far inside you can’t think of anything else but him fucking you.

You clench around him, you’re close—it’s building up. Your pussy drools everytime he plunges inside you, dripping down your ass onto his bed.

I’m so close—he groans, breathy and desperate—I wanna fill you up—he chokes on his gasp—Can I?

Yes, yes, Yoichi, please I want it.

Fuck—he gasps—so fucking good to me.

Your moaning gets louder, arching your back as his thrusts gets messier, fucking you a little faster, you’re about cum: Yoichi, I’m—

The pleasure hits, your walls clenching, squeezing all around his cock. He’s hitting all the right spots making you a whining mess as you ride out your orgasm with your eyes rolling back, your hearing getting dull.

He leans forward to kiss you sloppily, his breaths shaky as he moans into your mouth. His thrusts become messier, I’m cumming—gonna fill you up, yeah? He murmurs against your lips. You’re still clenching around him, milking his cock for cum as you feel the warmth shooting inside you.

He fucks you lazily, cum gushing out of you with every slow thrust. He’s groaning against your neck, his brows knitted and eyes shut as you hold him tightly in an embrace. You feel all sticky and sweaty, and so debauched under him as his dick throb inside you.

He stays inside you for a while, bodies limp as the two of you come down from your high. Both of you so fucked out. Slowly, you become aware of everything around you. It’s quiet with just the sounds of your breathing.

He lifts his head to face you, he plants a soft kiss on your lips before pulling his still hard cock, a glistening white mess. You clench around nothing, his cum dripping out of you with his eyes on your pussy. Fuck—he sighs.

He asks, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

He peppers your face with kisses, his voice laced with mischief, “That we can go again?”

You chuckle, “Mhm.”

He was relentless. The two of you went on and on and on—you almost regretted saying yes everytime he asked one more. The last thing you could remember was his lips against your forehead as the room began to brighten from the morning sun. He was whispering sweet nothings while he played with your fingers before you eventually passed out.

┊┊┊

Shitshitshit—you whisper. You’re hastily getting dressed while Nagumo remains fast asleep, his back facing you. With a trembling hand, you reach for the doorknob, carefully and quietly opening the door to his bedroom as you prepare to leave.

As you stand still and glance at his sleeping figure over your shoulder, you feel overwhelmed with regret at having to go through this cycle again, wishing for things to have turned out differently. But sometimes life is funny like that.

He looks so peaceful as he sleeps, reminding you of his consistent kindness towards you. Your thoughts turn to the disruption you always bring into his life, making you wince inwardly.

It’s a shame, you were too late.

As you sneak across the hallway and into the living room, you hunt for your belongings. While looking around, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, your eyes widened in horror at the sight of the numerous love marks he had left on your skin. Thank fucking god for scarfs.

Upon reaching the foyer, you spot your coat and bag on the floor, remembering how it all went down between you and him. You grimace—what was I thinking?—as you put on your coat and pull out the scarf from your bag, wrapping it around your neck to hide evidence of your impulsive decision.

You freeze after hearing movements from his bedroom. You swear you haven’t put shoes on that fast in your life as you dashed through the door.

As you settle yourself in a taxi cab, you become aware of the aches in your body. Looking out the window, you ponder about last night’s escapade. Very very stupid move, you thought, shame and regret gnawing at you. But you couldn’t deny how good he was, if anything, he’s the best you’ve had. He made you feel so desirable, so cared for, so loved—

Love? Are you serious? You unintentionally tighten your fist as you feel a smile creeping in. A strange sensation breaks you away from your thoughts, you look at your hand. There it is, Nagumo’s wedding ring, hanging loosely around your ring finger.

Huh?

What was he thinking?

You faintly remember him playing with your fingers before falling asleep from exhaustion.

That clown.

He’s so childish.

I’ll mail it to Taro.

Your hand rummages around your bag as you search for your phone but it’s nowhere to be found. You let out a deep sigh with a frown on your face, thinking about the series of unfortunate events that seemed never-ending.

You carefully feel around the pocket area of your coat—Oh, it’s here. Reaching inside, you grab your phone, but upon pulling it out, something accidentally slipped out and fell.

Picking it up from the carpeted taxi floor, you mumble, “What’s this?”

A polaroid?

As you study it, you recall the photo that was lying on the dashboard of his car. It’s a little crumpled but it’s quite new. Annoyance starts creeping in: That little shit and his pranks.

This is taking it too far.

You start taking offense: He cheats on his wife with me and now he puts her picture in my pocket?

You shoved it inside your bag and took off his ring from your finger. For safekeeping, you decide to put it in one of the pockets of your bag. As you were about to drop it, you saw a detail from the ring. Curious, you look closely, checking the engraved details inside—it’s the same as your initials. Weird.

Puzzled, you instinctively pull out the photo again. You keep studying it, you can't see her face properly with her back almost facing the camera. Feeling a tinge of jealousy from her mysterious nature, you brush it off quickly. It’s a stolen shot, you observe.

You couldn’t take your eyes off it, something is weirdly familiar but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it is. The place looks familiar, it’s like you’ve been there before. That’s impossible, you think.

You ponder, Taro did mention Nagumo travels a lot. Maybe he takes her with him? Your heart starts to pick up when you recognize what she’s wearing—I have one like this too.

Wait.

The place was the beach you went to earlier this year. Slowly, it starts dawning on you.

No fucking way.

With a trembling hand on your mouth, you question—

Is this me?

You look closely, eyes frantically scanning the photograph with your breath stuck in your throat. You start to recognize yourself: the hair, the dress, the wine in hand, the white sand, the sunset.

With your heart hammering in your chest, you mumble, “It is me.”

But how?

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