#you could spend your whole life doing nothing but gaming and you'd still wouldn't be able to play them all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pedrosbrat · 3 years

Text

Sorrow You Are My Light {Pero Tovar x Max Phillips x F!Reader}

CHAPTER II : Land Of Broken Promises

AU - Vampire Hunters

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Angst, Sad Memories, BLOOD, VAMPIRE FIGHT, Language, alcohol, yearning, violence (fight) , mention of murder, mention of children death, sword, church massacre, some feelings …

Summary: The three of you will go looking for Max’s creator, making unexpected encounters on your way, also discovering that you don’t hate vampires as much as you think...

Little Comment : Hi everyone, it’s my first series, I hope you will like it (if you see any mistakes let me know and I will correct it) & 1 chapter will be published every week, every Saturday⚔️reblog are appreciated ♥ Enjoy!

Chapter 1 - Series Masterlist

You've always known and understood that your life wasn't the way you wanted it to be, that it's a state of being that's pretty pathetic and that your whole life revolves around your grief. But collaborating with a vampire was never in your plans, and when you woke up this morning you really didn't think you'd end up talking to this Max Philips who seems quite comfortable with the both of you. That's when you knew you were really in a bad way… A vampire comfortable with vampire hunters…

Max for his part is not quite as comfortable as you think, but he doesn't show it still keeping that smug and amused look on his face, not showing that anything is getting to him. He tries to ignore the way you look at him with disgust in your eyes and a deep hatred in pero's eyes. He knows everyone hates vampires, but he thinks you seem to hate them in a rather personal way and wonders what has happened to the both of you to get to this point... Having no prospects, no attachments to anyone... A very lonely life, even spending it as a duo...

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

"We heard there was a massacre not far from here, Father," Max says with a more than innocent and sweet look on his face.

You turn to Pero and roll your eyes, tired of this little comedy he's been putting on for two days now. But Pero doesn't care, he's more worried about the rest of your little adventures, realising that he doesn't know his enemy as well as he thought he did, not understanding how a vampire can enter a church for example. "What do I know, Pero?" you answer him, more and more worried with each moment you spend with him too.

Not that you fear him... Or maybe a little, realizing with every step you take that, places that are supposed to protect you won't, and that every weapon that is supposed to hurt him has no effect on him... He must have a weakness...

So, two days ago, contrary to what you thought, Max had not taken you back to the forest where the massacre took place near your home and took you west, explaining that after attracting so much attention, members of his species never stay in one place. He explained to you that they have a method of travel that is not as random as you might think: When one superior vampire is spotted in the east, the other will head west, because when attention is suddenly focused on one place it can become too dangerous for all members of their species.

You have also discovered that what Max calls vermin, are vampires who were simply bitten and left for dead, that the ritual was not completed, bringing them back to life as mere vegetables that follow any order... Mere flesh to be slaughtered.

You've learned a lot in the last few days... Wondering if he was making it all up... Why was he telling you all their secrets? And how many of them are like him?

"Apparently there's been another massacre in the nearby town and..." "I always thought you called it a buffet." said Pero cutting Max off, flashing a smirk on his face, obviously very proud of his remark "... For there to be a buffet handsome, someone would have to eat." he replied simply as he got back on his horse starting to gallop, overriding the vampire joke, leaving you to follow closely behind him puzzled "He..." You hesitate to ask him too much, not wanting him to think at any point that you're even remotely close to trusting him "You can ask your question, I don't bite..." he said with a smirk, holding back from making his joke. Pero gave him a cold look, letting him know that he didn't find it funny at all, and Pero simply raised his arms in apology, "I was just wondering if... They don't eat them?" you say, disgusted with the image your mind has just created. "Oh no, not with the buffet he made himself less than two days ago..." he says, referring to the massacre in the forest.

He stopped talking for a moment, and you thought you saw a hint of sadness in his eyes for a brief moment, before he began to smile again, noticing that you were watching him "... No, this is all just a game to him, like a simple hunting party" "And don't you play occasionally MAX?" asked Pero as he turned to him, gradually moving deeper into the village "Not like this... But I can show you the other ways I entertain myself if you wish".

Pero frowned and turned his head. For a moment you thought you saw his cheeks turn red. Maybe I imagined... Like that night when we were both around the fire... That night when you told him that his scar didn't bother you, that it gave him a charm, on top of what he already had... But he wouldn't blush in front of this creature... So you put the thought out of your mind and just answer him as calmly as you can. Imagining for a few seconds the two men doing things that you could not name out loud, feeling a certain heat growing in your sex... God, what's happening to me? Pull yourself together!

"It's going to be dark soon, we'll go and inspect the place tomorrow" you say starting to head towards the nearest stable "No, we're going tonight" says Max as he pulls on your harness. You stop completely before dismounting your horse, "We don't hunt vampires at night. "And that's why you spend more time on it, or maybe it works with the little varmints you usually hunt, but with this one you're going to have to make an effort sweetie."

"Don't call her that," Pero says dryly. Max turns around quite surprised by this request, knowing that he doesn't react the same way, when he calls handsome.

You look at Pero who makes you understand that you have to try. You have no choice. So, when night falls and you have taken the time to tie your horses to a tree not far from the church in question, you follow your new travelling companion very closely, remaining more than ever on your guard, being convinced that you are walking into a trap. Nevertheless, you can't help noticing how broad he is, like Pero, and wonder what it would be like to be between these two men in bed...

You obviously don't notice that Pero has his eyes on the same places as you, thinking the same things as you, for a few seconds: what would it be like to spend a night with you in his arms as he has always wished and a man who doesn't repulse him as much as he thought he would... He wonders how he could have attached himself to Max so quickly, secretly starting to like him... He chases his thoughts away when your words bring him back to reality, avoiding a bulge that would have been more than embarrassing at this moment...

"He will feel us coming no matter what…" you say "Not necessarily... In the same way that you humans can't use all your senses correctly when you drink too much..." he says, leaving you to guess what he was about to say next. You don't know if you can believe what he is just told you, but as for the information about their survival, he hasn't lied to you so far... So why not...

The church that the village priest told you about the massacre is still soaked with blood. You feel your stomach lurch, never getting used to the loss of human life and bodies lying around you, starting to give off a putrid smell from the heat. Pero squeezes your shoulder lightly, knowing your aversion to this kind of sight, but you try not to flinch, gripping your sword tighter in your hands.

"We have to..." you start but Max rushes to put a hand over your mouth faster than you can anticipate. You find yourself pressed against his chest, being able to feel every part of his body against yours, his scent intoxicating your breathing space... He smells good, and his body is hard and pleasurable, you wonder what it would be like in another situation, but quickly push the thought from your mind AGAIN, thinking that you're probably just horny for the slightest contact you've wanted to have with Pero for years, and no men has ever satisfied you correctly...

He says nothing and stops in the direction of the open door near the altar, inhaling in that direction. Pero walks around the few benches still standing in his path, sword in hand, leaning against the wall where the door is, where Max is interested. But you notice that Max shakes his head with every step he takes, signalling him to back off. You wouldn't trust a vampire in any situation, but for this one, for Pero, you don't hesitate for a second.

You start to move towards him before Max can realize it, and try to silently reach Pero, telling yourself that if the vampire in the room next to him is there, maybe Max wasn't lying to you after all... But a woman suddenly appeared from the doorway, her face gorged with blood, black veins surrounding her eyes, turning her gaze directly towards Pero, who barely had time to raise his sword to hit her in the cheek, causing her cheek to smoke slightly from the contact of the silver on her skin, followed by a shrill cry and a black look of anger towards Tovar.

He didn't flinch and just tried to give her another blow with his blade, which this time he hoped would pierce her flesh, but she quickly avoided it, laughing, almost amused that you were trying to fight her. You glance behind you wondering where Max might be and see him struggling with another vampire who must have been watching you from behind. The two men are hitting each other with a strength you've never seen before, you've never seen two vampires fight before today... In a split second a second vampire comes up behind him, and you are about to warn him, feeling a sudden concern for him, but you don't need to, before you can see it, he comes up behind the vampire he's standing with facing the newcomer, rips off the head of his first opponent and grabs the new one by the throat to sink his fangs into it and rip out his throat before cracking his neck and dropping him to the ground. You watch him perform all these moves in a few seconds and find yourself slightly excited by this...

You shake your head slightly and come to your senses despite yourself, suddenly finding yourself thrown against one of the walls. A deep pain runs through your body, but you don't pay attention to it, you are used to this kind of feeling and you stand up to give a precise blow of your blade to your opponent, cutting his leg and then separating his head from the rest of his body.

You then grab one of your powder pouches and throw it in the face of the one who is still attacking Pero despite all the wounds he has inflicted on her to try and distract her for a short while. But it doesn't work, and only brings her attention to you. You then grab your sword and thrust it into her arm, driving it as deep as you can.

She doesn't scream, and smiles at you, preventing you from regaining possession of your sword, and grabs you by the throat, lifting you slightly off the ground with her fangs slowly coming out to rest against her lips, until something sinks into her chest and forces her to let go of you "Vete al infierno, hijo de puta" : Pero's sword. She looks at you for a short moment before her body turns completely grey and lies coldly on the ground before forming a pile of ash.

Pero leans towards you and checks your neck, pushing your hands away roughly, "I'm fine Pero... Pero..." Something grabs him by the throat in turn, but as always Pero reacts quickly, and grabs the dagger at your calf to slice the hand around it and turns to face his enemy, another vampire who he inflicts a dagger blow to the leg, knocking him completely off balance.

A hand suddenly appears at your side, you point your sword in that direction. But it's only Max, his hands completely bloody, blood still dripping from his lips, and strangely it doesn't repel you like it usually does, so you grab his hand without any hesitation. "Are you going to help Pero or watch?" you say, pointing in your friend's direction, "He's doing great, I think! We could just go and talk about the little looks you gave me instead of fighting" he says with a smile, pointing to the church exit. But you don't smile and put a more than serious look on your face, "I'm just kidding, sweetheart... I have to talk with our dear Ted anyway..." he says, dropping his jacket on one of the broken pews of the church.

Ted... Does he know him? Of course, he knows him...

He disappears before you can ask him the question and finds himself with his hands around the throat of this Ted, pushing his head down the stone stairs of the church, with remarkable ease " Where is he? " Says Max pulling out his fangs, " You'll never find him, he'll find you before my dear brother does, to kill you, when he'll be done with Tarja, and you'll join them... with your new friends ". he said, laughing. Max put a foot on his back and grabbed his hair and yanked his head away.

You glance at Pero, who doesn't really pay attention to you, staring at Max, who is also staring at him, waiting for an explanation for these last words, but he doesn't say anything and just goes around him and grabs his jacket to leave the church. "Pero..." "I don't think he's lying to us..." he simply said, cutting you off "... He's not lying to us Pero... You should have seen the rage in his eyes when he was fighting them... You know I hate them as much as you do, but apparently we're going to have to trust this one." you say, running your thumb over his cheek to get the blood off it. A hand gently grabs your wrist, and you turn to see Max looking at you with a neutral gaze "If you want to talk about me... Write. I can hear you from far away" he says licking your thumb as he stares into Pero's eyes, who says nothing and doesn't give him a disgusted look as he would like to do, that would be lying to himself and this strange attraction he has to this individual, so he just pass his gaze to you before turning back to the horses, leaving Max's gaze plunged into your finger sucking hold, making your clit swell in your trousers. And as if he could feel it, he smiles, letting go of your finger to head back to the horses, leaving you standing in front of the church confused at what just happened between the three of you.

On your departure Pero decided to burn this place, even though you insist on the discontent of the villagers, he persuaded you, making you admit that no one wants to see what is in this place, that no one should have to see such a massacre…

When you were about to leave, the church cross fell into the field around it, and you watched it burn, upside down, probably announcing nothing good for you...

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

"You could stop looking at everyone like that Pero..." you say sitting in front of your plate in the tavern. "You scare everyone...".

"I don't mind, and I'm not the one who scares them..." he says as he points max up and down with the tip of his fork, making you aware that you are completely covered in blood, probably explaining the extra food the tavern keeper gave you probably scared of you. "And I'm only smiling for you, you know that" he adds silently, letting a simple smile form on your lips, touched by every little attention he expresses, rare as they are, even knowing that you're just a sister to him... It makes you wish he'd say it in another context, one where you wouldn't be just friends.

Your gaze shifts to Max who looks at you tenderly and amused, shaking his head, thinking that you are both blind "Who was that Ted?" you say trying to change the mood at the table. He frowns and doesn't answer, turning his gaze to the people in the tavern who are staring at him. A man completely covered in blood, who hasn't touched a spoonful of his food, accompanied by strangers. With the stories of demons coming to damn the land of your country since you were a child, it doesn't seem suspicious at all.

He then grabs his spoon and takes a portion of soup, without making a single expression. You widen your eyes in surprise at what you've just seen, and Pero frowns in confusion, realising once again that he doesn't know as much about their species as he thought he did, realising that anyone who can blend in could be one of them...“It taste like ashes to me…” say Max quietly, trying to remember what a soup taste like.

"She asked a question," he said, pointing his fork at him. Max smiled at him “It was my brother handsome, and I want you to talk nice to me. I can… feel, that you love to give orders, but I take them only in bed.” Pero didn’t say anything and just frown, faking to not understand what the man was proposing right now and putting some food in his mouth, hiding his desire like he always do with men, usually waiting to be alone. "He was your brother, and you didn't hesitate to kill him, so how can we be sure that you..." you start but Max roll his eyes and cut your sentence "You're not going to doubt me again sweetheart? This is getting lacy and redundant." he says as he puts his spoon down in his bowl"...He wasn't my brother per se... We just had the same maker... Like all vampire in the church tonight..." he says with a smile, but his smile doesn't fool you and lets you see a hint of sadness in his eyes. Something Pero doesn't miss either, something he thought about on your way to the camp, but doesn't say anything about it, interested in his story, nonetheless. "Who are you supposed to join when you die?" he said, breaking the silence around the fire.

He stared at Pero through the flames, and hesitated for a few seconds, but finally spoke, realising that you both trust him a little more every moment, step by step "My wife and daughter..." he said softly, almost inaudible. You and Pero stare at each other, eyebrows furrowed, surprised by this revelation. "I... A vampire child?" says Tovar, pretty sure he's never met one in his life. Max looked at Pero and laughed, "I was human before I was like this, handsome! ... I had a life..." he said sadly, looking into the flames and talking as if he hadn't been able to do so for years. "... I had a farm with my wife in the south of the country, a farm she had always wanted, a farm I had given her with promises of a better life... Our daughter loved the horses we had there... She would wake up and run straight to them every morning, although we told her every morning from the moment she could walk that she had to ask us or tell us... and one evening I asked her to go and check as she always did if all the horses were there..." He paused for a moment trying to smile, probably not wanting to show you that he has feelings, toward the both of you " ... That was the last time I saw her alive. My wife found her completely pale and bleeding in the stable… She let out a scream like I've never heard before. When I arrived, he was on top of her... Already dead with empty eyes, looking at me... and his own face... was so monstrous, soaked in blood, the blood of my beloved... ". he take a little pause, and you let him, putting your hand on his shoulder, before he said something who really broke your heart “I promised her the world to only die on a land of broken promises”

You feel your heart clenching hard in your chest and look at him with compassion, because you can see him as anyone could see him right now that he is not lying to you... Pero hands him a flask not really knowing if he is drinking alcohol or not, but he grabs it, appreciating the gesture and takes a sip before continuing "I grabbed my pitchfork you know... And I tried to struggle against him... But I woke up underground... And he told me later that he liked the fact that I wasn't afraid of him, and preferred to turn me to join him ... I would have preferred to die with them that night... And I was forced to follow him for so many years, I wouldn't have survived a day without it..." he says, passing you the flask.

"You must not be the only one like this” Pero said without an ounce of malice or teasing in his voice as he would normally have seen a member of this species suffer, he was sincerely starting to enjoy the company of this Max Philips, actually sad for him "There's Tarja, who left the clan many years ago before me, and who settled alone near the border in the east... At least that's the last time I saw her there... And if he's after her, she's probably already dead. She wasn't as well trained as us, and much younger..." he says, straightening up slightly and giving you a dry, forced smile.

“If she had lost her family that…” “Oh no it’s more complicated for her beauty… She was a saint in a monastery that he attacked a few years ago… She lost all her children in one night… And he turned her for fun, thinking that a saint with a damned soul would be something fun, I guess…”

Pero frowned his brows and there was silence between you for a few seconds. You put your hand on Pero’s arm and sent him a smile of compassion “… This monastery was in the north? A monastery by a river." asked Pero silently with his eyes closed. "How can you possibly know that you..." “Because your creator did not kill all the children that night...” Pero said, opening his eyes with a dark and sad gaze…

Chapter3

TAG LIST :

@absurdthirst @pascalldjarin @superflick @wardenparker @aisibaby @kesskirata @underwaterwonderscapes @jessie-writes-things

(Join my Taglist HERE)

63 notes · View notes

westiec · 3 years

Text

June 17: Chengxian 💜🖤💕

childhood friends to lovers/QPPs, ace Jiang Cheng, bi & aro Wei Wuxian, modern AU

(A/N: If you're wondering about a certain other someone, he will have a wonderful, full life of his own in Suzhou in this AU but is not in this story. 💙 There are some brief mentions of offscreen ace-antagonism, not by anyone we know.)

Read on ao3

Jiang Cheng had been Wei Ying's best friend in the whole world for his entire life.

Okay. Well, not quite his entire life, but certainly since Wei Ying’s parents moved to California when he was little little, which was about as far back as Wei Ying could remember anyway. Wei Ying’s baba and Jiang Cheng’s baba had grown up in Wuhan together and been best friends when they were kids, so naturally, when Wei Ying’s family moved into the same neighborhood as the Jiangs, it made perfect sense for Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng to become best friends too.

It was Jiang Cheng who had taught Wei Ying that he didn't have to be afraid of dogs, by introducing him to Princess, Jasmine, and Lil' Love. Lil' Love lived up to her name, coming and quietly sitting in all her fluffy glory on Wei Ying’s lap every time he went over to play.

It was also Jiang Cheng who Wei Ying got drunk with for the first time. They snuck booze from the cabinet where Wei Ying’s parents kept it and laughed at the faces each other made with every shot until they stopped tasting the harsh burn, and then laughing more just because.

(Wei Ying’s mom had not laughed, not at the time, when the two teens had been sick as anything the next morning, but instead made them a gloriously greasy late breakfast and gave them lots of advice about proper hydration.

Then she told Jiang Cheng’s mom and let her scold them.)

It was Jiang Cheng who came out first, their first semester in college, when he told Wei Ying he didn't think he wanted to have sex with anyone, ever, and asked if Wei Ying thought that meant no one would ever want to date him. Wei Ying hugged him tight and told him he didn't know about everyone out there, but he knew Jiang Cheng was the best guy in the world and would be an awesome boyfriend, and he'd fight anyone who said differently.

Jiang Cheng found a group on campus for third culture LBGT kids, and Wei Ying went with him, as a supportive ally.

Which was how Wei Ying figured out that he was not just a supportive ally.

In listening to the others talk about orientation and identity and attraction and cultural expectations, Wei Ying realized that what he'd always assumed was normal—finding all kinds of people physically attractive, regardless of their gender—was actually his bisexuality. So that was kind of cool.

"So yeah, now we can be queer together!" Wei Ying said, when he excitedly shared his newfound realization with Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng snorted. "Yeah, 'all' and 'nothing,'" he joked.

It was Jiang Cheng who'd helped him practice what to say to his parents when he wanted to change his major at the end of sophomore year, and Jiang Cheng who reminded him to eat and sleep and "take a fucking break, Wei Ying," those next couple semesters when he took way too many hours so he wouldn't have to rack up a whole extra year's worth of student loans to finish his new degree plan.

It was Jiang Cheng who graduated first, on a gorgeous blue-skyed sunny day in May, and Jiang Cheng who suggested Wei Ying keep living with him at his new apartment, so he wouldn't have to try to find a one-semester lease until he finished in December.

(They renewed the lease together every time.)

Jiang Cheng ribbed him playfully each time Wei Ying met someone new, but he was always there each times things fizzled out after a few months for reasons that never quite made sense to Wei Ying.

Jiang Cheng occasionally dated too, and Wei Ying was glad he never did have to fight anybody—though he did drive Jiang Cheng to the emergency room the time he came home with split knuckles from punching a guy who, "seemed to think I didn't know my own mind about certain things."

But dating sucked for everybody, right? It wasn't like Wei Ying or Jiang Cheng were in any hurry to settle down and do the whole spouse and kids thing or whatever. Wei Ying tried to imagine it and just... couldn't, though the image of Jiang Cheng with a baby was admittedly pretty cute.

It was not Jiang Cheng, but Jiang Yanli, a few months after she proposed to her girlfriend and they started planning their wedding, who Wei Ying finally asked, "Yanli-jie, how does a person decide someone else is their person?"

Jiang Yanli looked across the room to where Jiang Cheng was showing her soon-to-be-wife how to put side spin on a billiards ball and smiled. "I think you just know," she said. "You meet someone and you get to know them, spend time together, then one day you realize you love them and want to build the rest of your life with them."

Wei Ying wrinkled his nose. "I dunno if it works that way for me. Just some random person? I've never met anyone I can imagine wanting to live with all the time. Well, besides—huh..." he cut off suddenly and darted a look over at Jiang Yanli, who just calmly sipped her drink.

"Have you ever told him that?" she asked, after a moment where Wei Ying reassessed his entire life and dating history. "I think he might appreciate hearing it."

"I... huh. Yanli-jie, you're kinda blowing my mind here," he complained.

"I gathered," she said wryly, before fixing him with a smile that made all the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "Of course, I trust," she told him, "that I do not need to explain to you of all people how very dearly I hold my didi's happiness and well-being."

He swallowed and raised three fingers in the salute he'd used ever since the summer that—hah—he and Jiang Cheng had decided as kids that they would make their own oath of brotherhood like the heroes of their favorite show. "I, Wei Ying, swear to you that I would kick my own ass before I did anything to hurt him."

Jiang Yanli leaned over to knock her shoulder against his and nodded. "That's what I thought."

Turned out, dating Jiang Cheng didn't suck at all.

It felt easy in a way Wei Ying’s past dates never had, less like trying to keep up with a game whose rules everybody knew except him, more like... well, like spending time with his best friend in the whole world, but on purpose. There was also a tension in the back of Wei Ying’s mind that seemed to have lifted, though he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was that had gone.

It was Jiang Cheng who helped him figure it out.

"I think it's that now I'm able to count on this. On us," he said, when Wei Ying brought it up. "Before, whenever you went out with someone new, I wondered if this would be the time you'd find someone to fall in love with and leave me behind."

"Aww, Chengcheng! I would never!"

Jiang Cheng huffed and rolled his eyes, but his cheeks were pink. "Well, I know that now," he said, a pleased little smile breaking through his attempts at a scowl.

"As long as you're sure—" Wei Ying began, still getting used to thinking about himself with the word "aromantic." Still a so very sure that Jiang Cheng deserved to be fallen in love with.

"Hey!" Jiang Cheng cut him off. "None of that. I know you. And I know you don't see it this way, but I personally think it's pretty damn romantic that you choose to love me, on purpose."

"I simply have exquisite taste in life partners," Wei Ying sniffed, embarassed the way he always got when Jiang Cheng declared something he'd done "romantic."

"You do," Jiang Cheng agreed. "Someone told me a long time ago I was the best guy in the world and would make an awesome boyfriend, and that he would fight anyone who said differently."

Wei Ying laughed. "That's you and your sister I've promised to kick my own ass if I ever break your heart, then. Guess I'll just have to keep you forever."

"Damn right, you will," Jiang Cheng agreed, grinning smug and happy and breathtakingly beautiful. Wei Ying leaned across the couch to give him a sweet, closed-mouth kiss—the kind Jiang Cheng had shyly admitted he actually did like, a lot—and smiled too, at how lucky he'd gotten to be with his best friend in the whole world for his entire life.

🖤💜

Today's (extremely long!) thread was inspired by this WONDERFUL art of ace Jiang Cheng and bi & aro Wei Ying! Go give Midori some love on Twitter!

I spent a nonzero amount of time googling to double check when various terms and flags came into vogue, so if you're wondering, WWX & JC were in college in the early 2000s, before the ace and aro flags were designed. By the time they get themselves figured out, they can get their cute wristbands.

...which, yes, means these dingdongs spent about a solid decade living together before realizing that was what they wanted to do forever. 😉

This also means Jiang Yanli and her unnamed wife here are getting married between when California started recognizing same-sex marriages in 2008 and the Obergefell v. Hodges ruling in 2015! THIS SHIT'S RECENT!!!

Happy Pride, thank you for reading, check out more LGBTQIA+ sweetness on my #PrideMonthSnippets Masterpost!

#PrideMonthSnippets #chengxian #westie writes #mdzs #the untamed #asexual pride #aromantic pride #asexual jiang cheng #bisexual wei wuxian #aromantic wei wuxian #queerplatonic relationship #queer relationships #love has a lot of shapes

73 notes · View notes

seeuonadarknite · 4 years

Text

smile for me — yandere kozume kenma x f. reader

warnings: slight angst, abuse, threatening, noncon, hickeys, oral, creampie, kidnapping

Kenma was always quite the outcast. He had a difficult time fitting in with the rest of his classmates, and preferred just being a face out in the crowd. In fact, the only real friend he maintained throughout junior high and high school was his upperclassman, Kuroo.

But their time together was cut short as Kuroo had to move on and graduate with the rest of his fellow third years. Once he left his life for good, Kenma's world turned black and white. Every bland day felt the exact same.

Wake up, attend class, go to practice, go home, sleep, and repeat. There wasn't any real reason for him to continue playing, seeing as his original reason for joining was to be there for his best friend. He was an adult now, having better things to do with his time.

Compared to his performance last year, he was mediocre at best. It was sad for his teammates to see him like this, but they couldn't blame him. He had no outside motivation and no reason to give it his all. At this rate, it'd probably be in his best interest to just give up and quit volleyball.

But his pessimism came to an abrupt end as soon as the doors to the gymnasium opened up on that rainy day during practice. Looking up from the dirty gym flooring, his eyes landed on your graceful figure. Not only were you a sight for sore eyes, but you brought colors back into his world once again.

“Everyone! This is [y/n]. She's going to be your manager for the year.” The coach introduced you to the rest of the team with a large grin covering his features. You gazed at each and every player on the court, briefly studying their features.

“Hi! I'm excited to be here with you guys and although I'm inexperienced in volleyball, I'll try my best to help you guys out in any way that I can!” There it was again. That damned smile you always seemed to wear.

Your beaming smile lit up the dark cave Kenma had been hiding himself in. And he wanted it all to himself. However, it was as clear as day that Kenma wasn't the only one on his team looking forward to seeing you more.

—

His obsession started off innocent. Kenma was just a dependent person, and without Kuroo, he needed somebody else to rely on. At least that was what you told yourself.

At first he would just walk you to your homeroom class. It was on the way to his, so where was the harm in it?

But it gradually became overbearing. Not only would he walk you to homeroom and practice after school, but he soon began walking you home from school in order to “protect you from creeps.”

He followed you around like a lost puppy. An insecure, lost puppy. If you ever tried gently approaching the subject by telling him that you're alright on your own, he'd simply stare at you with glossy eyes and frown.

It somehow felt worse than him getting angry at you. You just felt pure guilt, and would end up apologizing for bringing it up.

Kenma knew what he was doing. With the advantage of his lack of friends, he could cling to you like a magnet without any questions asked.

From an outsider's perspective, it looked as if you had him wrapped around your little finger. But it was really Kenma who had the upper hand. It didn't take him long to analyze your overall personality and learn how to evoke certain emotions from you.

He was strategic, calm and collected. He knew he wasn't the kinda guy you'd go after, so he'd have to take extra measures in making you reliant on him. In a few months time, you'd be begging him to walk you to class and you'd be afraid of being without him.

It was perfect. As long as he played his cards right, everything would go to plan.

“[y/n]! I know this is sudden, but I've really enjoyed spending time with you during practice and I'd love to maybe.. take you out sometime?” Or not.

Kenma was on his way towards the front of the school where he'd normally meet you to walk home with you. He had planned on asking you if you'd like to hang out at the nearby arcade after school. However, he was beat to it. Right before his eyes was the sight of Lev asking you out on a date.

The situation at hand didn't dawn upon him until his vision was filled with the sight of you pressing a gentle kiss onto the lanky Russian's cheek. Sure, he was peeved at his teammate for asking out his crush. But your positive response was what had caused the crushing sensation in his heart. He thought he was going to be ill.

You stabbed him right in the back. That was supposed to be him. Was he not good enough for you? He crossed over so many bridges in order to earn your attention, yet it still wasn't enough. You'd never choose a guy like him.

He'd have to make you.

—

It had been a few days since you last interacted with Kenma. It was weird; you were used to him following you around wherever you went with his focused gaze constantly diverted towards his game. Sure, having him by your side 99% of the time was mildly inconvenient for you, but it was something you had grown used to.

It was nice having somebody that seemed to care about your feelings so deeply. While your bubbly attitude helped you in terms of popularity, it didn't quite fill the void. Not even the boy you had recently began seeing really seemed to deeply understand your emotions like Kenma did.

As much as you hated to admit it, you needed Kenma just as much as he needed you. That was why you were more than willing to walk him home for the first time in days after being asked.

Whilst you didn't understand why he took a break from walking around with you like this in the first place, you were glad to know that he was doing alright. You really did worry about his wellbeing during your time apart. Perhaps you had grown a soft spot for the introvert.

“Do you.. wanna come in?” Kenma kept his gaze on the sidewalk as he offered you to come over. As much as you wanted to agree and try and rekindle your friendship over pop drinks, you unfortunately already had plans for that evening. Lev promised he'd take you to see fireworks at a festival in town.

But you couldn't just flat out reject him. There was something wrong with him and you wanted to resolve things before goofing off with his teammate. Flashing him a small smile, you nodded your head and followed him into his vacant house.

As soon as the two of you slipped your shoes off, he led you into his living room and plopped himself down onto the couch. You could tell that he was nervous by the way that he was timidly fiddling his fingers and avoiding your eyes.

“I can stay for a few minutes. Lev promised he'd take me to see the fireworks in town, but I want to know what's been going on with you before I leave. I care about you, Kenma.” Were you joking? Kenma was about ready to be emotionally vulnerable with you and you decided to bring him up?

It seemed as if your words flipped a metaphorical switch in Kenma's brain. His immediate change in expression gave you chills. “No.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you stood up from your spot on the couch and narrowed your eyes at the pudding head. “I'm sorry?” Your intuition was right. Something was wrong with him.

Following you in suit, Kenma stood up from his spot on the couch and began making slow strides towards you. For each step that he'd take towards you, you'd take a step back. By the time you had taken around five steps back, you ended up with your back pressed up against the living room wall. How cliche.

“Kenma, what's gotten into you? Are you okay?” Even during a time like this, you were still seemingly worried over the male's wellbeing. It was almost laughable.

Instead of lashing out, Kenma gazed at you with dulled eyes. Taking a few steps backwards, he took in a deep breath and prepared himself for his next plan of action. “Just.. follow me. I need to show you something.” Only you could understand Kenma when he murmured like this.

Something about the whole situation was off. The apathetic look in his eyes was unsettling to say the least, seeing as his eyes were clouded with frustration just a minute ago. But you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

So you took him up on his offer and allowed him to take the lead. He ended up bringing you upstairs into his room. Upon first glance, there was nothing that stood out. His bedroom was exactly how you expected it; organized and cleanly, yet not quite bland. The figurines and posters he had set up complimented the room nicely.

But it didn't make sense to you. Why was he so insistent on having you follow him up here? You easily could've continued your conversation inside of the living room, so what gave?

Click. Glancing over at the pudding head, you watched as he swiftly locked the door, rendering it difficult to exit and impossible to enter. Before you could question his actions, Kenma shakily pulled out a pocket knife from his pant’s pocket, slowly inching towards you with the weapon. “Get on the bed..” He almost seemed unsure of his actions.

But his reluctance quickly turned into assertiveness when you wouldn't oblige. “Now.” His arm stopped shaking. One step closer and the blade would be poking at your throat.

You reluctantly climbed onto the queen bed placed up against the wall. There was a window! Perhaps you could— “Don't even think about it.” His tone was dripping with uncharacteristic dominance as he spoke.

Climbing up onto the bed, he lightly nudged your shoulder, quietly ordering you to lay down. Of course you were going to listen, the guy had a weapon in his hand. As much as you wanted to question his actions, your body was in a complete state of shock. What happened to the innocent, introverted boy you once knew?

Noticing your shocked expression, Kenma sighed, crawling up in between your legs. “[y/n], you're all that I care about. I just want you to love me back.” His face heated up as he inched his head towards yours, leaning in to press a chaste kiss on your lips.

However, your reaction wasn't as positive as he wanted it to be. As soon as his plump lips pressed against yours, you immediately drew your head back, forgetting about the weapon in his hold. “Kenma! What has gotten into you? You know that I'm seeing Lev!” You couldn't be gentle with him anymore. There was a line you sure as hell weren't willing to cross with him.

Upon hearing the Russian's name, Kenma clenched his teeth, wearing an expression with pure lividness written all over it. Even after mustering up the courage to confess his feelings and to even kiss you, you still weren't content with him. There would always be somebody better and he'd always have to go through desperate measures just to earn your attention.

But as he gazed down at your petrified expression, he came to a realization. He didn't have to fight for your attention and idly stand by as you gave it to other people. He had the upper hand. He was in control here.

There wasn't a single damned person on this planet that could stop him from taking you away and ravaging your innocence. You belonged to him now. He was the only person you'd get to look at from now on and there was nothing you could do about it.

“You know.. I don't know why I thought you had a thing for me. I guess I was just being really, really stupid.” He gazed at you with a vacant expression. You almost felt bad for him. Almost. But your guilt was gone as quickly as it came once his fingers began peeling your shirt off. “But it doesn't matter anymore. It doesn't matter at all.”

Dropping your shirt onto the hardwood flooring of the room, Kenma gazed at your bare skin with pink tinting his cheeks. Your skin was like a blank canvas, and Kenma was ready to paint a masterpiece.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up at the feeling of his plump lips peppering gentle kisses across your collarbone. Sooner rather than later, he made his way up towards yours your nape and his soft kisses turned into nibbling. “Kenma. Please..” Your voice was strained as you begged him to stop.

But your pleas only egged him on as he began running his tongue over your neck, giving you a ticklish sensation from his wet appendage. He eventually attached his lips onto a certain spot on the side of your neck before sucking on the sensitive skin like a leech. It was your first real hickey and it ached. It felt like your skin was being sucked by a tiny vacuum.

The worst part about it all was that he ended up leaving a giant trail of hickeys from your neck to your chest. Your entire upper body was scattered with vibrant love bites.

Wiping his swollen lips off with the back of his hand, Kenma sat up and admired his work. Just the sight in itself caused metaphorical hearts to form in his eyes.

But it wasn't enough. The need to feel your soft skin against his own overruled Kenma's insecurities, as he reluctantly pulled his t-shirt over his head. Before he could begin dreading the thought of you laughing at his scrawny figure, he leaned down and stared at the bra that blockaded him from your breasts. That wouldn't do.

It was difficult to say the least for Kenma to try and figure out how to remove your bra, especially with you thrashing and squirming beneath him. Not being able to figure out something as simple as a bra clip was frustrating enough; you deliberately making it difficult just pushed him over the edge.

“Stop squirming or I'll cut you.” His small voice was stern as he scolded you for moving. You wanted to believe that his threat was empty, but his exasperated expression told you a different story.

After what felt like trying solve a jigsaw puzzle, he finally freed you from the death trap of your bra, eagerly throwing it off to the side. It didn't take long for him to place a hand on each of your breasts, kneading at your skin like cat.

Kenma felt like he was on a power trip as he fondled your breasts and squeezed your hardened nipples between his fingers. The way you sat idly whilst he leaned his head downwards and began swirling his tongue around each bud was absolutely exhilarating. You knew there was nothing you'd be able to do to defend yourself without hurting Kenma, and you weren't willing to make that sacrifice.

The fact that you still seemed to care more about his wellbeing than your own caused his heart to skip a beat. He really did have you wrapped around his finger.

As he sucked on your soft mounds, he trailed his hands down to the waistband of your shorts, tugging at the fabric. He soon diverted his attention towards your bottoms as he eagerly slid them down to your ankles, leaving you in nothing but the thin material of your panties.

Of course, it didn't take him long to grab onto the sides of your panties and pull them off as well. He had waited far too long for this moment and he wasn't going to waste a second of it.

Upon first glance, Kenma was mesmerized. He couldn't help but bask in your naked glory. The sight in itself was so entrancing that his body began moving on his own as leaned down on his stomach, bringing his face so close to your sensitive parts that you could feel his hot breath fanning your skin.

“Kenma.. Please don't do this.” It wouldn't hurt to try and stop him one last time, right? Even if you weren't officially a thing with Lev, it still felt wrong having another man's hands exploring your body like a sacred temple.

Unfortunately for you, Kenma was trapped in a lustful trance, leaving your pleas unheard. Without further notice, Kenma flicked his tongue against your clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves. As he parted his lips to suck on the sensitive nub, you couldn’t help but unintentionally wrap your legs around his head, practically grinding yourself onto his face.

The sight of you almost bucking your hips into his face gave him a sudden burst of confidence. He plunged two fingers into your greedy hole, feeling his cock twitch at the feeling of your muscles tightening around his thin digits. God, the look on his face screamed shamelessness.

Your back arched as he pumped his fingers in and out of your drenched cunt, feeling a tight knot begin to form in your abdomen. Thinking rationally was out of the question; all you wanted was for him to finish you off and give you that sweet release.

Fortunately for you, his tongue seemed to swirl at just the right pace and his fingers seemed to curl at just the right angle as they rubbed up against your g-spot. It wasn’t long until your hips suddenly bucked upwards whilst you reached your end, feeling your walls clench around his digits and your juices coat his hand.

Although Kenma’s expression was as nonchalant as ever, you could just tell he felt triumphant by the glint in his eye. The look in his eye was akin to the way he’d look after defeating the final boss in a video game.

Dread sat deep in your stomach as you finally came to your senses, allowing your surroundings to truly dawn upon you. Realization struck you like a bolt lightning as your captor pulled his last articles of clothing off, allowing his erect cock to spring out.

The fact that he was a hell of a lot more hung than you pictured for a scrawny guy like him just added insult to injury. This could not be happening. “Stop looking at me like that.” How on earth he still managed to act timid was a mystery to you. This was all on his own accord. And only on his.

But his lustful desires overruled any possible guilt he could feel. If he was being real with himself, there wasn’t a guilty bone in his body. He needed to claim your body as his.

Prodding the tip of his throbbing cock at your entrance, Kenma gradually slipped himself inside of your needy cunt. His movements were painfully slow. The way he slowly pushed his length into your hole really allowed your insides to memorize the shape and form of his cock.

By the time that he had fully inserted himself inside of you, your back was arched and you were moaning like a pornstar. Before doing any movement, Kenma leaned downwards, catching your lips in a needy, desperate kiss. And although the kiss went unreturned, Kenma felt a surge of euphoria take over his senses.

Without further notice, the pudding reared his hips back, only to slam back into you, earning nothing but a choked moan from you in return. Kenma’s timid movements were nowhere to be seen. He thrusted into you at an unbearable pace.

If you weren’t so overridden with forbidden pleasure, you’d be shocked over how rough he was in bed. Was this really the same guy that didn’t have the guts to talk to you without looking up from his game? Where did this sudden burst of confidence come from?

Your internal questions went unanswered as Kenma used your hips to steady himself as he pumped his throbbing cock in and out of your cunt. You’d be shocked if the death grip he had on your curves didn’t end up leaving bruises.

After awkwardly trying to find a better angle, Kenma ended up hoisting your legs over his shoulders as he thrusted even deeper inside of you than before. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes as the tip of his cock pressed up against your cervix with each rapid thrust.

Trailing his hand down south, Kenma placed his fingers onto your nub and began rubbing circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. It was all too much. You hated how much pleasure this man was giving you. But you couldn’t help your muscles from twitching as you suddenly arched your back, releasing your flow of juices onto Kenma’s cock.

The way your cunt hugged his cock had his eyes rolling backwards. It didn’t take him long to hold onto your hips with a vice like grip as he shot his load into your cunt, perfectly filling your womb with his thick, sticky fluids. By the time that he pulled his cock out of your aching hole, fluids were dripping down both of your legs, staining his bed sheets with cum.

As the both of you struggled to catch your breaths, the sound of popping rang throughout your ears. After pathetically scooting your trembling legs over to Kenma’s window, your heart shattered at the sight before you.

Fireworks were going off in the distance— the fireworks you promised you’d see with Lev. Wrapping his arms around your bare figure from behind, Kenma placed a chaste kiss below your ear before whispering bittersweet words.

“This is how things are meant to be. Come on, smile for me..”

1K notes · View notes

emmetrain · 2 years

Text

@sekizein asked: 🎶 !!!!!!!!!!!

Send 🎶 for me to make a five song playlist for our muses

Confessional - Sopor Aeternus & The Ensemble Of Shadows

Walk With The Noise - IAMX

The Dark Side - Muse

Graveyard Shift - Battle Tapes

Ordinary Life - Simple Plan

Lullaby - Lord Huron

Explanations, lyrics and commentary under the cut :D

Confessional - Sopor Aeternus & The Ensemble Of Shadows

Where do I begin, where should I start? So much to tell... or nothing at all. At the end of the day it is all the same, 'cause that's how things are.

No-one ever writes, no-one calls, only replies, so I have to go first, which is tiring and sad, but all that I have, so I just go ahead with it. Because: I DO believe, I DO believe, I DO believe, I DO, I DO believe in friendship...- in FRIENDSHIP and in TRUTH.

I often try picturing what it would be like to have a friend, someone who spends his time with me, enjoys my company as much as I like him. Someone who calls for no reason at all, simply out of a whim...- whom, at the end of the day, I don't have to pay like everyone else.

Someone, who has no gain from knowing my name, my weakness or strength, who doesn't pretend and isn't afraid to share pleasure or pain, is honest and true.

COPY-PASTED WHOLE LYRICS COS THIS SONG. THIS SONG IS SMOL & KITTY FRIENDSHIP SONG. The sadness, desperation, all the mixed feelings of hope, love and trust but also fear, disappointment and longing?? Smolmet wants to be close to his kitty twin, but also, they are both deep in despair due to their circumstances, so it is so hard to play pretend, being happy when they cannot, being friends when they have no time or energy???

Walk With The Noise - IAMX

We were born into this fools' world And we will die before we play the game So many blows ripping apart our gentle souls And I shudder 'cause I know what I don't want to know

And it's killing me, killing me, laughter Wanna wash those smiles away

Oh it's killing me, killing me slowly Wanna wash those smiles away I walk with the noise, it’s reaching out to me I talk to the world, face my devils When I’m losing my touch the terror, the terror I walk with the noise, face my devils

Smolkitty twins!! The song's beat and the energy of it fits them so well ;;; All their efforts, their grief. It feels like their theme song ;;;

The Dark Side - Muse

I have lived in darkness For all my life, I've been pursued You'd be afraid if you could feel my pain And if you could see the things I am able to see

I hail from the dark side For all my life, I've been besieged You'd be scared living with my despair And if you could feel the things I am able to feel

Break me out, break me out Let me flee Break me out, break me out Set me free

;;;;; The Dark Side is especially the Kitty Emmet with the bottomless pain and despair he is. Smolmet is hopeful by nature and he can hold onto his belief in a happy future if things went too dark for him. But I do not think Kitty Emmet has the same luxury? So this song signifies the bridge between them, with how they are same but also verrry different in their pain, yet how they still try to reach out one another?

Graveyard Shift - Battle Tapes

I used to think that these words wouldn't go anywhere My fever wouldn't start to break until they stopped and they stared I keep on when you won't 'Cause I know what you don't, don't, don't, don't I took the risk, I took the bid I took the blame every time I took to knock, knock, knocking down your door I took to taking what's mine

I fell asleep at the helm of a runaway train And laid myself at the feet of what I couldn't slay

To keep you where they can't find I need you more than I realized I sip your glass and wave goodbye I need you more, the rest alive

And everything they said was true To keep you lost and cast away I'd never sold your heart of gold To keep you lost as days just fade away

Alright, these twins' energy is high and I tried choosing the 'electrifying' sort of songs for them. This one stars with Smolmet's worry about the 'risk' he takes by being close to his twin and trying to keep up with him when they do not mesh well at first, but also, it ends with Kitty Emmet's perspective, like "I would never sell your heart of gold"??? Like, deep down, they both care about each other with their flaws, weaknesses and all. They are Emmet, and they are different, but still they care deeply??

Also, RUNAWAY TRAIN??? IT IS YOUR EMMET'S SONG.

Ordinary Life - Simple Plan It's just another Monday I'm just another face in a face-less crowd I'm going down one-way Caught up in the machine and I'm spit right out I'm living in a rat race I'm looking for my soul in the lost-and-found

I'm sitting in the same spot Counting every tic, toc Gotta hit the punch clock When's it gonna stop-stop? Another day in black and white One, two, three, four, five Another week goes by I'm half alive I'm getting sick I'm faking this I'm over it Don't wanna wear no suit and tie I gotta live before I die So I'm done, done, done With this ordinary life

IT'S THEM IT'S THEM IT'S THEM. (Also b&w part just makes me smile so much). How they are left to pretend to be okay and functional in their ordinary world when nothing is??? Ingo is gone, yet no one allows them to take their time to fix this or cares about how maddening their whole situation is?? But also, they have to keep things as it is since Ingo will return one day, but it is so hard??

It just reminds me so much of them ;;;;; Karaoke night with just them singing this on top of their lungs, pls.

Lullaby - Lord Huron

You arise along with the sun Where have you been, darlin'? What have you done? You were out finding trouble againThere's a fire in your eyes and there's blood on your hands

Come inside and lie down to sleep You ain't gonna run and you know that you're beat Rest awhile, they're coming for you There's a price to be paid for the things that we doFall asleep and forget all your troubles Dream of laughter and old friends and lovers Dream of when you were innocent Dream forever

Lord knows you've been 'round in your day But this kind of trouble, won't just go away Darlin', now you're adrift in the deep So just lay down your head and I'll sing you to sleep

tHIS SONG!!!! THIS SONG!! This is like the extra song to their playlist to unwind after the other fast ones, and it captures the other side of their friendship so well? All the things they had done since Ingo went missing, all the troubles they make... And how when the morning comes, they still got each other's back? ;;;;; You mentioned Beemmet singing to his bees and now I am thinking both Emmets singing lullabies to each other after a bad night of trouble of the other?

It is them mourning what they have lost, who they used to be, but also, having a moment to support each other at the very least??

I love them so much;;;;

#sekizein #verse;; searching for the truth #//i love all of the songs in this list but confessional and lullaby hits harder like ooof the softness the despair the understanding #//i love them so much ;;;;#eye strain cw #ooc;; out of station

3 notes · View notes

dreamiesdotcom · 4 years

Text

butterfly effect│nct dream

Summary: You think of it as something caused by the butterfly effect — the great loves you had to leave, and the one that made you stay.

Pairing/s: 7dream x Reader

Word Count: 12k

Moon's note: since it's my birthday and I promised... it's not the best but I'd like to thank you guys for staying with me and wishing me a happy birthday! I hope you all have an awesome 2021!

You weren't really thinking straight when you met him — instead, your mind was a mess of one thought and sidelines; the little things. Butterfly effect. The knowledge that ten minutes from now the train will board — you'll miss your ride to school, you'll miss school — so you run faster, faster, and there it goes. The butterfly effect — knowing that what little thing you did could've changed someone's life entirely.

If you have made it ten minutes earlier, maybe you'd be sitting in the spot where a child buzzes with excitement, knowing that she'll see her father sometime soon, and in exchange, she will be in another place — maybe she won't meet the girl sitting across who offers her one of her candies. Maybe she won't be riding the train at all — maybe she would have to wait six months again before she can go see her dad.

You sulkily take the path to one of the exits, thinking about catching the bus or something. The skies are dark and you're aware of its plan, also aware that you left your umbrella. Frustrated and too annoyed to even think about school, you crash to the empty bench, bags left to drop to the floor. Tough luck.

The boy chuckles, "Missed the train too?"

"Yeah," you grumble, not even bothering that he's a total stranger. "Was caught in a daydream and got lost on the way. You?"

"Eh, my idiot of a best friend made me wait," he shrugs. He brings his book down and offers you a handshake, "I'm Huang Renjun — I see we study at the same place. May I know your name?"

You don't speak after a minute or two, but you shake his hand, to which he laughs at. You think it was you being overwhelmed. Maybe your soul just knew how much impact he was meant to throw at your life.

Huang Renjun doesn't become a one-time encounter, but instead, he becomes someone you take train rides with; be it you're late or not, to school or to the library. He stays constant occurrence, so much that Huang Renjun turns into Renjun, then Renjunnie — until you're free to call each other names like 'dumbass' and 'stupid' and everything crumbles down; formalities, facades, walls. You don't feel it then, but if you were to look back, you think it's that one dark-skied Monday with you two terribly late and finding yourselves back in the same bench, when everything the world laid down for you has shifted.

Renjun pout his lips, bored. He tears his bag from himself and lets it stay under the shed, but he stretches his hands out to the sky where his eyes are set, watching water fall in tiny drizzles before a full-blown rain, "Perhaps, dance under the rain with me?"

"When we should be at school?" you huff, more amused than questioning but it comes out as a scolding. He only nods his head, and you furrow your brows, "Renjun, you're crazy."

He doesn't reply, only answers with a deadpan gaze that asks Are you going or not? and it makes you tighten your expression further.

"Hold me."

The boy grins in triumph — he cheekily smiles, immediately pulling you under the rain and laughs like a tiny kid. It's contagious, you figure out, his laughter; if not for his hand on your waist and the other entwined with yours, you would've fallen over laughing with him. It was less of a dance and more of a cuddle, swaying to the sound of the rain and his sweet hums. Renjun whispers to you the melody of a love song, and you couldn't help but ponder.

"I always wanted to do this, you know?" you feel silly even confessing, "To dance under the rain with someone, look into each other's eyes, exist as if the world doesn't and maybe give them a kiss. I wonder how that'd feel."

Renjun's serenity read ideas — those that never failed to get you two in trouble. He tilts his head, "Kiss me, then."

You feel like the world stops, and your heartbeat slows, as if the raindrops are little speckles of star-like lights littering the surroundings. Your eyes widen at his suggestion, shock ripping through your body, a confused sound escaping your throat, "What?"

"I guess you don't always need to have feelings for the person you're kissing," Renjun purses his lips. Of all people, you laugh in your head, those words you expected to come out of this one's mouth the least. He huffs, "And I don't have feelings for you."

There's just enough hesitation — uncertainty, unpredictability, skepticism — in his eyes that you find he can't be trusted as much as he normally would be. Renjun drops a half-smile, eyes unreadable, "But I sure do know I want to kiss you. A lot. Right now."

Renjun smiles in victory the second time that day.

═ ∘❁∘ ═

You come across Donghyuck in the most inconvenient way possible; a few months after you started dating Renjun and there's a little too many mishaps with making schedules meet. He strides to your chair one sunny Friday, clothes too colorful for the shades of beige decorating the place. Donghyuck didn't know how to approach you; he just kind of winged it by showing you Renjun's texts that he asked him to pick you up because something came up and he can't make it anymore. You didn't really like that — the fact that he didn't even speak, the fact that Renjun stood you up. You thought Donghyuck was arrogant. The car ride home was silent.

He was far from that, you learn the one too many times the same scenario occurred. Renjun was too busy to even show up, more often in the library than in his own place. Donghyuck, being his best friend, never failed to be there for you, keep your relationship intact, make excuses for the other. He'll pick you up from where you were supposed to meet your boyfriend, grab food and spend the whole day playing video games that only he understands, and then half of the time he'll compliment you with little playful remarks. That day was supposed to be nothing so different from the others — it's just that it didn't take much longer for Donghyuck to fall.

How could he not? You smiled so lovingly and spoke so gently, always so understanding and patient and kind. How can he not, when he's already known what song makes your day the most? When he saw how ethereal you looked under the moonlight, as he danced with you by the shore? Sure, maybe most of these moments wouldn't have been if it wasn't for Renjun's absence, and truly most of the things he loves about you aren't for him; he fell in love anyway. Still, that day was supposed to be nothing so different from any others — you're stuck in the odd place quite between grateful and guilty.

"Something came up, he won't be here." The boy says firmly through gritted teeth, hands-on your wrist trying to make you get up, "Please. He doesn't have his phone. He's not coming anymore, let's go home."

"Let me wait for him, please," you say, eyes teary, "Please, Donghyuck."

"No." He simply mutters, and whether it was the sinking feeling of defeat or the determination in his voice, it doesn't matter. You let yourself get tugged away from that place, feeling weak and oddly empty. The car ride home was silent.

"Thanks a lot, you know?" You shyly say later, once Donghyuck's lost enough in video games and he's run out of knock-knock jokes and witty statements. He couldn't stand the sight of you with your head hung low and eyes teary, "You're always there for me when Renjun is not and... just thank you."

"You're welcome," he sincerely replies. You try to look for it, the lilt in his voice or the smirk stretching his lips, but all you see is worry, and it concerns you. The bad butterflies in your stomach, the bad thoughts in your head; you feel like right now, with you so vulnerable, there should be someone by your side — someone that is totally not Donghyuck. He clears his throat, "You know he didn't mean to, right? He wants time with you too, a lot, you know?"

"I know what I have, Hyuck," you reply, a chuckle at the end of your tone. You lean your back to the couch, head tilted up and voice hoarse, "and I'm fucking scared I'll take him for granted."

Donghyuck's heartbeat slows down, but you don't need to know that. If you're thinking of a similar situation, a place in time back then as cruel winters and as harsh as summer sunlight in the afternoon, you figure he doesn't need to know that, too.

You let out a huff and a smile, "I don't want to know how painful it is to lose Huang Renjun."

Donghyuck thinks he knows why you said it; things normally go down the drain when you start realizing why someone fell for a certain person — at least, he thinks. If his experience is a reliable source, this is the point where you start falling for that person too. When you see how gentle they are, how caring, how understanding. Maybe Donghyuck is lonely — maybe he just wants to be someone who holds another person, singing them lullabies until they fall asleep, much like Renjun does for you. Maybe you're really just lovely — maybe there's an undiscovered force in the universe that places you in the center of his everything. He makes note of the rejection in your confession, and he accepts it, gracefully.

This is the point where he suppresses all the what-ifs in his head — what if you gave me a chance? What if I met you first? What if I didn't skip class that day, and I was with Renjun, and I met you at the same time as him? Do you think you would've ended up with me? — but these thoughts, despite being concealed, they leave a constant reminder that they're still there. It's a truth you both already know, the words that drip like honey from his lips, "I could love you better, so much better."

It'd be a lie to say you didn't think of it, considering his feelings. It would be an even bigger lie if you said that you don't think anyone can love you better than Renjun — you know someone can, and with how you two are handling this, it wouldn't be so hard to. Donghyuck is just so easy to fall for — the way he always knows the right thing to say, the compliments he throws at people, how confident he is, how clingy he gets. You would lie if you're asked, but you can't deny having feelings for Donghyuck, you can't deny how many times you've fallen in a reverie thinking of how good it must feel to be adored by him. Maybe you were lonely, maybe Donghyuck was just like that. Either way, no matter how great this love could be, you know it's wrong.

"I know you could. I couldn't be any happier when I'm with you. Those instants, they're one of the most beautiful moments in my life, but —" you halt, eyes still staring up at the ceiling. The twist in your gut tightens as you proceed, "But in those moments, I was secretly hoping for things. I was hoping that he was the one doing all of that for me. I was hoping that the happiness I had with you, he was giving me instead."

Donghyuck remains silent for a while. He smiles wistfully, "I know."

It's a rather odd answer, but you figure it shouldn't shock you as much anymore. You sit up straight, confused. Donghyuck motions for you to stand as he does the same. Stars shine in his eyes still, but it's a different light — there's hope in them, but it's a difficult kind of hope. He's beautiful even under dull lighting, it's something hard to pronounce; unrestrained and raw, as if one look at him and you'll crumble.

"Please, for just a while, even just a little bit," He steps closer, eyes downcast, "hold me like you love me."

You figure you were right about thinking that there was always something wrongfully more with Donghyuck — also discover that no matter how much more this feeling is, whatever it is, it can never be love; at least not a healthy one. What love could possibly ruin relationships? Donghyuck and Renjun are practically soulmates — they were made to be best friends, and while they had their other friends, nobody is just like Renjun and nobody is like Donghyuck. You don't want them to fall apart; you of all people know how hard it is to lose someone special.

Donghyuck's hug felt like fire, uninhibited and uncontrolled, given to someone so undeserving. You hold him like you love him the same way.

"I don't need you to love me back," but maybe he was hoping a bit. Yeah. Maybe. "There was never a chance for us, you know? Against my own best friend, I know I won't stand a chance. I just wanted to hear it from you."

A pause.

"Because I can dance with you under the moon, and I can walk on streets holding your hands, I can give you all the time in the world — I could spend a lifetime telling everyone I'm yours," Donghyuck locks gazes with you, and you wonder how he manages to be both heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. He shakes his head a bit, "But that won't make you love me."

"Because I can only ever catch you," he says wistfully "whenever he fails to. I always do, don't I? Catch you, save you, love you. But you're not falling for me. You're not in need of my saving. You're not mine to adore."

He loosens his hug, looks at you like the sun bidding farewell to the moon. He's just as beautiful, if not more, he really is — gold dusting his eyelids and strawberry balm on his lips — he's ethereal. Donghyuck is beautiful in all ways manageable and not, but it's also a different kind of beauty — quite like love, adventurous but uncertain, poetic but tragic. There's a lot of pain in this beauty. He closes his eyes.

"There's not much of us, but I'm setting you free."

═ ∘❁∘ ═

You find yourself knocking at Renjun's door that night, for no particular reason — certain events made you forget that he stood you up. Renjun apologizes and repeats his reasons like a mantra, but words seemed to leave his mouth once he sees your eyes; tired and sore. You don't really need his apologies. You just need him.

Apologies, you see, they almost always never come when they're asked for. When they do, they're mostly unwanted and unnecessary from that point forward. You just feel odd, more restless than you actually are, the world is too loud — you just want to close your eyes and escape for a bit. Renjun holds you silently the whole night, his heartbeat calm, his arms holding you tight and secure.

Renjun knows, but he decides it's better for him not to. He shifts a bit, "If not because of me, why are you sad?"

A part of you knows that this is his way of telling you he understands, that he's aware of what somethings happened behind his back. Renjun always knows. The bigger part of you hoped he didn't — selfishly. You know it's the safest choice to keep your mouth shut.

You're sad, for a million reasons or for just one, you don't bother keeping up with the numbers. Renjun looks at you like you're a treasure, though, like he means it — you think the only favor you could do him and for yourself as well is to lie. You grin, effectively hiding away the tears threatening to brim your eyes, "I forgot."

He doesn't really know what answer he expected, but his heart sinks at the reply nonetheless. Renjun decides, tomorrow.

Tomorrow comes quickly in a way Renjun wishes it wasn't. He wakes up tired — he was up all night singing lullabies to himself, whispering confessions that wouldn't change a thing and promises he'll never be able to fulfill, stuff that would never make you stay. Renjun didn't cry all night — there was a tear or two, there was three — he didn't just cry all night. He did so much more — relive the past, think that he's sorry, accept defeat and the fact that he's never gonna be enough for you; then he closes his eyes. The rain pours heavily outside and Renjun reaches a hand out to the sky.

"Perhaps, dance under the rain with me?" he says with tired eyes. "One time once more, baby."

You ignore the telltale signs of a heartache — maybe you were too numb, maybe you wanted to pretend it's all normal. Renjun tugs you outside and pulls you into a hug so tight, as if he didn't want to let go but he's losing you. Is he?

Dancing with Renjun under the rain is oddly similar to the one you shared with Donghyuck under the moonlight, and you find yourself full of guilt as you sway together with him, humming love songs just right next to your ear.

Renjun knows of that dance, of course he does. He was in front of the place you two were supposed to meet at, hoping that he could still make it. Because of this, he doesn't ask why you're entwining fingers with his while recalling memories of another. He doesn't mind — he thinks, as long as your eyes look at him so softly like that, he doesn't mind anything.

You think Renjun is beautiful like this — his everything an aesthetic you can endlessly write about. His eyes, though, his eyes look distant, wishful and longing. Renjun looks at you like he's letting you go and your heart drops, as gentle and as sweet as the poems he's written of you and the kiss he gifts your lips with.

"Just leave, darling," he whispers, "Stay a lovely memory to me."

It's just like any lovely excerpts you wrote, the last line with Renjun quite familiar and bittersweet. As if in any other circumstances, had he said only the second sentence and the second sentence only, it would have made your heart skip and your cheeks rise in temperature.

Real love is a little not like literature, though, at least the one you had with Renjun isn't. It wasn't almost being the same person. It wasn't sweet chaos. For both of you, it was doing what was the best for each other at the moment — whether it will make you cry, whether it will be painful before it becomes easy, knowing that it won't always be picture perfect but still wanting to give each other what you deserve. It was so much simpler than how he said it in his poetry, just as complicated but not any less romantic than that. Huang Renjun knew that you were aware of what was the best for the both of you — with neither of you ever wanting to force something to work and end up hating each other the more it fails, successfully trading the happy memories with more regrets, you walk away. Renjun doesn't follow just because love isn't always like the idea of it, but he does remember to never forget. You walk away, holding his love dear to your heart.

═ ∘❁∘ ═

Some people are just not meant to be alone, you think. Mark Lee comes just as quickly as Renjun was gone.

You don't even know why your paths crossed — Mark is literally the town's golden boy. He plays sports and aces exams and has a good set of friends; surely, he has more important matters to deal with, and definitely getting coffee at a dingy coffee shop isn't one of them. Not when it's three a.m in the morning, at least.

The shy barista at the counter sends you a gleeful smile as he hands out your order, one which you return with a curt nod and a quiet wish goodnight. He watches intently, subtle but focused — he really isn't one to gawk at people, but he couldn't help it. You held with you a smile that doesn't match the exhaustion in your eyes. You looked like hope. You looked like someone to look up and search for the stars even on a cloudy day. You seemed like a full-bloomed spring to trapped minds and sour hearts. You think Mark is a little too curious like Alice. Mark thinks you're even better than the Wonderland he'd always fall for.

He knows you saw him, he feels the hesitation in your stare. He knows you know him, he's shared a couple of classes with you and has done a couple of assignments as a team, so naturally, Mark couldn't help himself but ask, "Wanna sit down with me?"

You walk up to him with a nod, grateful. Mark tries to remain calm for the rest of the night — caffeine not helping — and he tries to look at his book instead of you, but he simply fails to. He tries his best to conceal himself, but he can't seem to tear away. He can't look at anywhere else when you're sitting there right in front of him — you know pain, you're familiar with sadness, have always been friends with enduring what you couldn't take; Mark sees in you a landscape that makes his heart hurt, a leafless tree he loves by itself but couldn't resist the urge to nurse back into life. Every now and then you'd look up from your cup and he would look away from this book that he's "reading" and your eyes would meet, and the both of you would shyly giggle and open up a small talk.

He walks you home that night, this one and the other and the many next times after that; it's just your thing by now, getting coffee at the most unreasonable hours of the day and staying up until it's too late for either of you to sleep because by this hour you should be blinking awake, walking down lifeless streets and past neon signs and holding hands. Mark would look at you with such awe and when he does, you have some things you forget, and your heart races. He's became a regular part of your day, a constant stranger. And then he becomes your friend. Then kind of more. You think, maybe, just maybe, he can become something more than more.

"I have many regrets in this life, you know? But I don't wanna be imprisoned by them," you shrug, too scared to look up at him and see that he wonders just what failures you've done. You continue your slow pace, both in walking and letting go of things much like words, "I don't want you to be one of them."

Mark stops walking, but he doesn't make you feel like you've said something wrong, so you finally glace up and meets his eyes; those that hold as much tiredness as yours, pressure, those that are glassy and brimming with tears. You smile, "And I like you, a lot, even if I'm in broken pieces. "

Mark looks at you and doesn't see majestic brokenness. Mark falls deeper in love that day, the next and all the others; you were deep like that. He fell and couldn't stop falling and he can't wait to fall even deeper into you, diving into unknown waters with blind fates and silent confessions of love.

Your relationship was practical — literal and convenient, full of compromise but in a good way. You both were almost always on the same page of what should be done and how to do it, and if not, you two know that it's the best to give it a rest and understand. The balance, that kind of synchrony — it was something you both need, was something you liked about your dynamic; the fact that the partnership was there and you're certain of no taking more than you could give and no giving of less than you deserve. For once, you feel like you aren't pouring liquid into a leaking jar, and you feel content at the warmth he gives you with.

Renjun never made you feel this way; he didn't make enough accommodations for your relationship and you didn't voice out your expectations of him, you just wished he magically knew. Because he always knew that you would understand and other people wouldn't, he ended up giving you most of the weight of the relationship you both should've carried together. Mark was everything you hoped Renjun was; this is where the conflict begins.

When love is fueled by what the past wasn't able to give and what the present is willing to offer, you end up falling for the ideas and not the person. He makes up to what Renjun didn't, he filled to the brim what Renjun wasn't able to, he satiates what Renjun couldn't satisfy. You always saw the things Mark did as what you expected from someone else, so you weren't able to appreciate them as they are. You never truly saw him as Mark Lee who loves you, always as the boy who did everything the last didn't.

Just as any relationship that revolves around somebody who's not involved, the conclusion was something you saw coming. It comes with tired eyes and worn out sighs, burned out hearts and linked fingers, sour hearts turning bitter. Mark doesn't look at you at all, and you keep your eyes set to the stars.

"The thing with me is I always long for consistency — for someone to understand me and stay understanding of me forever." He breathes out, voice raw. Did he scream? Was he screaming in those empty spaces you two gave each other? In any of those yells, did he call your name? You think you need to yell at the top of your lungs just to hear a sound louder than your heartbreak. He chuckles before continuing, "And I know that it doesn't exist and it never will. I knew that since childhood, but even if I continue disappointing myself, I never stopped hoping."

His shoulders drop — he feels that weak that time, even his knees buckle down and his eyes sting from holding back tears. "So baby, don't play with me," he whispers, more begging than warning and he falls apart, "I don't need a chase — I need someone to wait for the end with."

There's a whine at the back of your throat, but you settle with looking at his direction with an apologetic call of his name. He doesn't reply.

Mark never knew that he could fall in love with the same person all over again even during a break-up. You're just lovely like that — always dancing in your daydreams while you carry the world on your back. Mark feels his breath catch at his throat, he feels his palms go numb, he feels his heart going haywire and begging him so desperately because no, no, don't let go, please, don't let go!

"There's a huge difference between how much I love you, and how much I can take." He finally spares you a glance, his everything so spent and lonely and blue in a way that isn't the calm of an ocean. "If you can't love me, then please let me go."

Mark knew your answer when you smiled.

────── ❁ ──────

The trip to the coffee shop was slow and empty and chilly, your hands trembling in need to get a hold of warm coffee and your feet taking little steps to such a familiar place. Honestly, you don't even know why you're letting yourself go there — why do you keep on doing this, torturing yourself? You don't even know — maybe you came here to reminisce the past, hold it close one last time before letting it go. Maybe you're here to remember how Mark was, how he was before he met you — oh, how you wish he didn't meet you. How badly you wish he never did, how you wish he never offered you a seat, his comfort, his love, a place in his heart. How you wish you didn't steal the sparkles in his eyes, and at that very moment, you feel the sudden urge to turn around.

But you're already pushing the glass door wide open, causing the chimes to make that delightful sound.

"Good...!" the cheery voice fades, a concerned look adorning exhausted eyes, "...evening. The usual?"

You hum, nodding soullessly. The boy — Jeno, quietly works your order until he decides he's had enough of you rubbing your cheeks raw wiping down tears. He sighs and finishes your drink, hands it to you with a sympathizing smile, "Uh, you don't look fine, but are you okay?"

You suppress a giggle and a glare — why does he care? But you're lonely, too lonely, so lonely that you only manage a nod, "Rough time. I wish today didn't happen."

"Oh, but other people had the best day of their lives today. They wouldn't experience that day if today didn't happen," he smiles, flashes of child-like optimism and hopes hinting behind the sleepy glaze in his eyes. "You're on your way to yours."

And while on any other day, his reply would have made you annoyed, you find that he's right, and wish that he indeed is. You feel like it's the only right that didn't go wrong today.

Something warns you that you shouldn't be getting yourself caught in his strings and his ways, but you find yourself straying around his orbit. You were lonely. It was that bad — so bad that you found comfort in everything and everyone and Lee Jeno just happened to be convenient; It's just safe to be around each other, and that's what great friends are supposed to be, right? Jeno doesn't judge and he doesn't pry when you tell him not to push it, and he tries to understand without forcing you to make him if you're not ready. Lee Jeno had a soul like comfort and a smile like a piece of home. You insist that you had no interest in either, but with you so down and him the only thing pulling you up, you couldn't help but let him in.

You think some people are just like that — timeless souls stuck in mortal bodies, liquid gold; glowing and burning and bright and hopeful, stars. They're like stars — human stars.

He's always beside you, you see, Lee Jeno. He answers the dumbest questions and the deeper ones, he stays up listening to your heartaches and struggles. He knows a lot about you — never everything, but they're more than enough — and you know about him, too. It's a dangerous edge you two are leaning far too close to tipping over, and still, your gaze screams life and hope and energy, Jeno thinks he doesn't mind. He remembers earlier memories with him crumbling under your fingertips, tears in his eyes.

"Mark Lee... he's not replaceable and I'm not a replacement..." he shifts his eyes down, can't bring it to him to just look at you without breaking himself. He manages a heartwrenching smile, "but I think I'd rather be a replacement rather than a distraction, darling."

But you looked at him and cup his cheeks and kiss his forehead so mellowly, assuring him that he's neither. The storm in his heart stops and all his insecurities don't matter, and Jeno doesn't think he ever felt this good — so light, so dreamy. Your touch brings comfort, much like lullabies, and after years on insufferable insomnia, Jeno falls asleep.

Your gaze, too. If you continue looking at him that way, he doesn't think he'll mind anything.

"Thanks, Jen. For the coffee," you say with a smile, another night spent with him at the coffee shop. These days, you spend most of your free time waiting for his shift to end, watching him stutter and flush every time he realizes you've been watching him. There's a giddy feeling spreading inside your gut as you continue, "and for staying with me. That was so thoughtful of you — how much lovelier can you be?"

He laughs, shaking his head. He sighs, "Stop it. You're giving me hope."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Oh, but I want to," you quickly roll your eyes, an attempt to faux cool control, your expression immediately shifting to something welcoming and soft just enough that his chest tightens. Jeno feels kind of odd — a good kind of odd, a welcomed sensation. You beam up at him with glassy eyes. Jeno shifts his to his shoelaces.

"Don't do that."

"Jen..."

"I love you," he confesses, shallow breaths coming in quick intervals. The floor seems to sway under his feet and the skies feel like they're swirls of dripping liquid, and it's hard to even breathe, let alone swallow the bitterness of his words, "But I would rather have you not say it back than hear you not mean it."

"I'm... I— Jen," you gasp out, fast to hold his hands to try to keep him down. For a reason or two, you feel like crying. Jeno feels lost. "I'm falling."

But you're not, and you don't know why you said it, but there's a galaxy in his eyes and the universe so beautifully laid down in his mind and he's pulling you close, tears in his eyes, this boy. Lee Jeno who's so in love with you, Lee Jeno who's hopelessly whipped, Lee Jeno — your sweet, sweet boy. You look up to him and shakily whispers, "Please catch me."

Jeno looks at the luminaries and wonders what it would feel like if one day he looks into the very same orbs only to find that the stars have fallen.

The wind blows gently, the coldness of the place prickling his skin, but Jeno doesn't think it's what caused the flush to rise on his cheeks. He stutters, curses a little, says again those little words and dives for a kiss — you feel like it's the best night ever; no nightmare, just pure bliss.

You blindly walk the path inside your house, dropping your belongings on either of your sides. You try to keep your knees from buckling as you bring yourself to your bathroom, stripping off your clothes. You lean your back to the cold tile walls of your shower, feeling the rush of water that is supposed to drown your thoughts not doing anything to keep them at bay. What have I done?

Loving Jeno is easy, though, far too easy if you may. He's so full of love and in need of affection but never asks for them, and you're more than glad to give all of that to him without words needed. The days with him have been light-hearted, felt deeply nonetheless. In this little world, it's you and him, him and you, no one else. Right? Is that right? Do you promise?

Jeno knocks at your home one day, sullen and lethargic. He spreads his arms out for a hug, one you throw yourself into without hesitation. He leans into the touch, leaning down to burry his head on the crook of your neck, "Thank you, baby."

Your brows draw closer, "For what?"

"You were never mine, but you were always lonely." He suddenly says, He suddenly says, voice fading weak and unstable. There's warm tears dampening your shoulder, and he shakes ever so slightly that you panic and try to pull away, but he doesn't let you. Instead, he continues, "In my twisted logic, I made myself believe that it's the same."

"What are you saying, Jen?" You laugh, a bit confused and a lot afraid. "I love you."

"No, please, don't say that," his reply baffles you. When he lets you go, Jeno has a certain saddened look in his eyes, and it feels so familiar that you should be numb to it by now. You're not, though, and so you pretend to not know where this all would lead. He pulls you in again and hugs you tighter, "Let me tell you that I love you without you answering back, please."

The boy breathes out shakily, "I want us to have at least one memory that isn't a lie."

And then Lee Jeno says goodbye.

────── ❁ ──────

Park Jisung is the clumsy florist who keeps breaking vases in the flower shop his cousin owns, just several blocks away from the kindergarten both your nephews attended. You meet him one too many times you had to pick the little boy up, and talked to him finally one fine Tuesday when you decided flowers would be nice, out of random. You become friends from then on.

This thing you have with Jisung is something lovely, child-like, and carefree. It doesn't put any pressure on you — there are expectations, but they're all voiced out and kept healthy. You're friends — great friends, not best friends — whose dynamic is not necessarily convenient. It's safe to say that some people think you have a complicated relationship.

You think, not really. Not to the two of you, at least — Jisung just knows when you're down and in need to be left alone or cuddled, while you know when he needs to cry or if he's pushing himself to his limits. He knows what flower you hold most dear, your treasured scent, your favorite shade of yellow. You know his most loved tracks, the beat he looks the happiest humming to, the color of his dreams. It's much more simple than that — it's just that you two have fun, even with your differences, and when you're together, everything else just fades away.

You just... don't like being alone. Jisung doesn't like not having company — well, there are indeed people he doesn't want to be accompanied by, but he doesn't like being the only one walking alone in crowds of many. He doesn't make your heart skip, not really, instead it's just a warm feeling in your chest, much like home. He doesn't make you nervous — not at all, but he does make you feel safe. Comforted, even. It's the type of love you've always yearned for, the only kind of love he's comfortable with.

"You dance?" Your eyes widen in surprise, dropping your book on the table. Then you smile, "Oh? Aren't you full of surprises?"

"Mhm, you'll see." He says with embarrassment hinting his voice, but then he stops arranging the flowers and looks at where you're sitting. "You? Aren't you full of surprises, too?"

You pick up your book, a sudden low, shrugging. "It won't be a surprise if I say now, wouldn't it?"

He just shakes his head, tries to lift the vase to the other side and accidentally knocks another one down. You laugh at him, curious at how much control he has over his body that he must be able to dance so fluidly, hit the beat like it's what he's born for, and yet he can't seem to hold a vase and not break it. Jisung giggles, taking it lightly. You wish he didn't.

The days with Jisung are filled with your favorite bouquets and post-it notes. Each and every day, the words written inside changes from 'You did well', until it develops to 'I hope you smiled today,' 'I wish something good happened today,' and 'You're really, really pretty.' He'd take you to little uphills, asks you to teach him how to make floral crowns from wildflowers, dance with you barefoot under bright daylight. A little summer, a certain person, your most dreaded feeling of having someone mean so much that you let flowers bloom in your chest until it's so hard to breathe and you cough them up.

"My parents asked me to study dance in another country," he mumbles one day, a shaky breath leaving his lips, "Please give me a reason not to go."

"Chase your drive, Sungie," you whisper back. You lean your head further to his chest, safe and warm and fading, "I love you, so choose your dreams over me."

There's the slightest hint of betrayal in his voice, a tinge of rejection in his eyes, "If you love me, why would you make me choose?"

If you love me, why can't you choose me? You selfishly ask, the kid in you whining at the thought of being left alone. The greedy part of you begs to ask him to stay, the needy part of you wants to hug him until he's so full of you that he forgets even the bare thought of wanting anything else. The silent voice inside you, the one that learned and keeps learning, the one that could've saved you so many times if you listened to it, sighs sadly. Don't risk anyone's future for your present, it seems to say.

"Because I love myself too," you look directly to his eyes, cupping his cheeks in between your palms, "and we need to put ourselves before anybody else."

And yet again, you're starstruck by the almost golden swirls in his irises, a peek of his soul. You think his eyes are beautiful — astounding, art worthy, a sight to never get tired of. He thinks they're only beautiful because he's looking at you.

This thing with Jisung isn't something you should've let go. You shouldn't have let him go but you weren't ready and the last thing you wanted was to hurt someone who held you so close beautifully. He didn't mean to, though — it was just too hard not to go overboard, and the next thing he knew, he was in love. He didn't mean to, so he walks you home the last night, hand in hand with a certain something hidden underneath his mellow smile. Jisung stands in front of you, waiting for you to open your gates, but you don't move. You stay basking in the tenderness of his gaze.

You think the little problem is that he's even more breathtaking up close and in silence, when the night feels so dead that it thrives — you feel like if you weren't so broken, if you don't keep on seeing another person when you look at him in the eyes, if you let go of the past, Jisung would be everything your heart desired. It just so happened that you two are both too infinite for forever, too broken to fix anything for the latter. Jisung was too charming — his smile was one that doesn't ask for attention but still steals it, never content with just taking your breath away so he takes with him your mind and soul.

You can't handle losing any more of yourself, though, so you smile, "Thank you for waiting."

"I have always been waiting for you," he grins shyly. You make a mental note to remember him like this — dyed locks a mess on top of his head and glasses messily perched on his nose bridge, tall and too pretty to be real, eyes so loving and expressive. There's an obvious sorrow in his voice, "Without fail, consistently, inevitably, forevermore."

You smile, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his cheeks, "Good night, Jisung."

The last note comes in between the pages of your notebook, a pretty pastel purple accompanied by pressed wildflowers. There, in his messy letters and colorful ink, reads a confession:

Maybe I couldn't stop myself from falling because it felt like flying with you.

You shake your head, sigh reading 'I told you not to do that'. Still, you feel a tug at your chest, a link between the two of you in the sense that you seem to be moving in synchrony with these words — Park Jisung is your last love, you swear. You shift your eyes, tired of the same chain all over again, flipping the note to read the words behind them.

When you find the right love at the wrong time, what will you do to make it work?

You sigh to yourself as you read the question, tracing the pristine paper with your pen, and finally, finally you smile;

Let it go. Set it free, because the greatest love of all is the one that lets you grow.

You tilt your head up, holding back the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes.

────── ❁ ──────

Zhong Chenle invades your life like a hurricane of mixed emotions, a little like three months just in time when you finally decided you've had enough heartbreaks. You meet him from one of your friends, Qian Kun, and literally had to stop and wonder how in the world he managed to find this thing — you can't help it, alright? Chenle just stood silent and proud, clad in leather and rumors and reputations and reeking of expensive. He comes in the scene like thoughts as turbulent as unwanted flashbacks and as easily as finding trouble looking for the right answer when you're in a rush.

Quickly as he entered your life, he became a friend; you're too familiar with this scene, but you've had enough. You can't take any more. You've spent most of your life haunted by sugar smiles and breathy laughs and in exchange, had yourself break everything you wanted to keep intact. It doesn't matter that he's not at all what he's perceived to be, it doesn't matter that he makes your breath hitch. You don't even care what you're going against with, if it's fate or heavenly beings or the world — no more. You can't anymore.

The world is the ocean and the ocean is a God — people are mere sailors who think they're stronger than the tides, but they're not; once the waters have made their decision to kill you, there's no reason you should fear the phenomenons trying to do you harm. It seems like it's made that plan, that thing you hoped so much you wouldn't do. Chenle knows so he smiles at you brightly, "Don't you dare run away from what you're feeling."

"Else what, you gonna run after me?" You bite back just for the sake of it, laughter bubbling from your throat, "Gonna go chase me down?"

He shrugs, taking a challenge and a risk, "You better not regret."

"Absolutely fucking not." Kun hisses after you've told him what happened, months after you've started dating and you're tired of hiding it already. Your friends already tease you about getting together, anyway, so why should you even hide? Apparently, this. The profanities leaving his mouth should worry you, really, but it doesn't; not as much as his disagreement. Still, you couldn't even bother to ask him why because you see it in his eyes — you know him that much, you're familiar with that look — "You're not in love with Chenle, please, we both know this."

"I am in love with him!" You say, hurt. The look in his eyes softens, but the pain of his word doesn't, neither does his determination, "Kun, please. I didn't tell you just so you could lecture me, I told you because you're my friend! I do love him!"

"Are you, really? In love with him, you say? Completely?" Your eyes shift to the side after his statement, the lack of sarcasm and warmth in his tone both bothering you. You want to cry. When you look at Kun, you find he feels just as much. "You're not in love with him in the way he deserves."

There's a dry chuckle leaving your lips as you grab your bag, standing up with a tear slowly rolling down in your cheek. More than devastation, there's a certain withering look in your eyes. Kun tries to apologize, but you're already moving away from him. The betrayal in your voice is impossible to ignore and forget, "How dare you make accusations about how I'm feeling?"

Falling in love with Chenle wasn't in the plan; in fact, you hardly even had any plans to begin with. As another fact, the only plan was to not fall in love with anyone anymore. Plans are ever-changing things, you'd always counter, they depend on the situation. When Chenle came in your life, you figure there happened to be another shift — something significant had changed, a good change.

Maybe it is why you didn't even take Kun seriously. You've always hoped that all those lows would lead to this point, the part where there's content spreading on your chest, a feeling just as bright as the luminescent blanket of embedded diamonds and rubies, a sky full of stars. By your side, the boy looks at you with eyes shining just as much; Zhong Chenle, badly misunderstood, so truly loved. You couldn't help but pull him in a kiss — giggly and messy, chaste and ever so delicate.

You think you could spend lifetimes just staring at him. You swore on it, really, to not be in love with him. More than anybody else, you hoped to fate that you'll never fall in love again. It's just that this person — Zhong Chenle, he has a tendency to be very addicting, and oh, how easily addicted you are. His kiss a lovely burn against your lips, his words a heavenly whisper to your ear, his existence a delightful surprise. You find it inevitable to fall because of the many similar nights before this, just weeks after you two met. Those days where you two were laughing way too hard for midnight and your heart blossomed with happiness it hasn't felt for long. It's the sweetest kind of doom.

It's doom, nonetheless.

"With whom was your first relationship with?" Chenle suddenly asks, no hint of jealousy in his eyes, but there is, aside from pure curiosity, something else — lost, baffled, seeking an explanation for something he doesn't even think he should know. "I mean, you're mine. You're my first love, but I know I'm not yours, and I'm curious. "

"You don't even know him, Lele." You laugh, trying to hide your hesitation. The boy insists, says that he just needs a name. You roll your eyes affectionately, "Huang Renjun. He's a great guy, but timing kinda messed up."

Chenle hums appreciatively, but he stops trying to find constellations and making up shapes of his own; instead, he dives in a pool thoughts deeper than the dark. He thinks of what he doesn't know if he believes in, but he keeps his eyes up at the stars and hopes to God that his life wasn't such a movie; he stays quiet.

"Who's Jaemin, then?" The question comes, harmless but shocking nonetheless. Chenle breaks his stare from the dull-starred sky and looks at you with a smile brighter than daylight. His question makes your gut twist. "Jaemin who danced with you under the rain... Jaemin who made your day with corny jokes, with late-night talks, with coffee, with notes."

You don't reply, so he ponders some more. He thinks about walking the streets holding hands, he thinks of cheek kisses. He thinks of waking up tomorrow and doing all of that with you. He looks forward to a couple of years — maybe you'll move in together, maybe you'll share a place and clothes and everything. He thinks of counting down the memories, having lived most of his life satisfied. Chenle thinks of doing it all with you; someone who takes tragedies and turns them into masterpieces. Someone who sings sad songs with a saccharine smile.

"Jaemin with a reputation, known for all the wrong reasons..." his eyes cast down, dull and slowly piecing everything together, "Just like me."

He thinks of a vow, a promise — to the stars, till dawn do us part. He thinks of how near the sun is from rising, and he thinks of silhouette, of being hidden behind one. You don't answer until then, so he just takes it as your reply.

"You don't have to. I already know," he smiles, fingers entwining with yours. "Maybe I just hoped that I didn't have to find out from Kun."

Chenle is innocent, kind of naive. He wears his heart on his sleeves and gifts its pieces to anyone who dares to get to know him. He loves a lot — his friends, his family, stars. A person who grieves the loss of midnight too, when the stars start to fade; you. Because of that, he could forgive anything you did and would do.

It's one of his many ways of love, you see, this thing you have going on. Chenle's just like that — you never know just how much more he can give before he runs out; there's just so much of him and it's difficult to put it into words. He's shown you how he treasures relationships, how he adores everything around him in each and every time a different way and kind. He's shown you so much, all the ways he displays his affection with, this little magic trick. That's not all of it, though, and a little part of you sinks because of the fact that a lifetime will not be sufficient enough for you to know just what this love is, completely, because every passing moment, the boy falls for something; each fondness different from the lasts.

Chenle just loves like that; so much that he doesn't mind being loved for carrying pieces of another person — being adored simply because he made you remember what you didn't want to forget. He thinks, if he doesn't think it matters, it wouldn't; he prays that if he doesn't bring it up, you'd forget. He's loved you for so long but you know so little of his kind of love; ever so pure and limitless, impossible to define and dictate.

When he holds your hands, though, you feel like it's enough — it's enough to have known slightly more than what you think you should.

"You give too much," are the only words that you were able to form. He looks at you as if to ask if you think so, and you feel the time stop for a bit when he leans his head on your shoulders, his dark locks tickling your skin. You laugh, humorless and sentimental, "Isn't it about time you'd learn to love within limits?"

"You're brilliant, you know?" He mumbles, albeit sleepily. "Kind of infinite. There are no restrictions in the love you deserve."

Something about brilliant just hits so different from beautiful — something so damning and sweet and you feel it again; just how much love you have in you, how much of it you are willing to give. Maybe boundaries really aren't your thing, maybe its the reason why you let Chenle adore you beyond what you know you can take, why you allowed him to give more than he should've given. Maybe it's why you poured affection after affection without conditions — maybe that's why you were selfish enough to love shadows. Maybe it's as most people say — you tend to burn too bright, to share too much of yourself, and not everybody can handle that. You're a bit too much for others. Maybe it's why you find yourself sitting down, pen roughly scribbling on paper.

Somewhere, there's a soul aching for your love... but no matter how much we try, we know it's not here, with me.

────── ❁ ──────

Kun doesn't knock at your door until a few weeks later, and whether it was him giving you space or him not being able to leave Chenle alone, you think of it as a blessing in disguise. It wasn't even after a week or two that you found it in you to get your life together — fake it till you make it, clean up your home, clean up your mess. You greet him with a smile on your face, tears prickling your eyes, "Come in."

Kun doesn't even say anything, he just puts the snacks he bought somewhere and crashes the sofa. He turns off the television, eyes the clearly was-messy place, and huffs at you, "It's just me. You don't have to play cool with me when you're feeling so broken."

"You're acting so much like Kim Dongyoung." You whisper just enough that he could hear before making your way to him and sobbing in his arms. Kun lets you stay like that, his hands threading your hair and affectionately patting your back, a soft 'I told you you're not ready yet' that's less scolding than it is loving. You stop crying then, just miserable sobs and sniffles, and he stands up to get you a cup of water. You look at him.

"Thank you, Kun."

Suddenly, his not amused expression is back. He moves away a little, placing a strict space in between the two of you, and then directly looks into your eyes, "Were you ever gonna tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Were you ever gonna tell me, or was I just supposed to learn about it after you've left?"'

"Kun," you breathe deeply, "I need to."

"For who?" He asks, hoping that amongst the reasons read your name. Are you finally choosing yourself? Is it still because of other people? He wants to ask, but his voice keeps failing him and all he can whisper is words about how he's proud of you, how much you've endured, how badly he wishes to ease the pain. Kun doesn't look at you with disappointment, with hurt; he looks at you with pure utter understanding, and you find it in you, a reason to smile.

────── ❁ ──────

You can't help but reminisce things as you walk from your home to the train station, neither can you when you asked the person in charge for which train will get you out of the place the quickest. You didn't really have plans, you never did, and perhaps that's where everything starts to go wrong; you just forget things, or at least, you try to suppress them. You never tried to solve anything.

This town knew too much — there are memories of Renjun on the trail from here to the benches, flashes of Donghyuck's sly grin meeting your gaze in the reflection of the glass whenever you look at the vending machines. You feel like you've walked every street in here, hand in hand with Mark, like you've danced under all these blinking lights with Jisung, like you've been to everywhere with Chenle. There is so much to remember, and this place can't hold them all and it breaks your heart so much, knowing that many things are meant to be memories, but not all memories should be remembered. You close your eyes in silent hopes that no matter how painful, you never forget one second.

It was impossible, surely, but you think that the thought of being able to recall them completely will be enough to keep you company. Even until now, you don't really want to be alone — some people are just not meant to be by themselves, and sometimes those people aren't really good at settling down either — being one of them, you leap from one crumbling bridge to another, hoping to never feel the pain of a great fall. There was never an end where you didn't.

Waiting for the train to board, you look back to a certain place in time. The one where you think everything began.

Your first love is something you remember vividly. It came in the form of childhood crushes, wildflowers, and ruined playgrounds. It's a coincidental meeting; you were running away from your house, tired of the yelling and the crashing and the constant fear in your little heart, while he was sneaking away from his house to play more because he's a 'rebel'. Your first heartbreak takes some years forward, years just a little far from now even if it feels like it's been forever standing here, waiting for an uncertain return.

Until now, you think that it was that night under a rusty slide and above dry leaves when your life started to change.

You meet again with Na Jaemin just minutes before your train arrives, a brief eye-contact and a skip of heart and it doesn't take so much for you to know; those eyes, that smile, the red string sitting too tightly on his wrist. You remember what promise that meant — you know that, right? The thing they say about red strings, how they connect people? — and what childish hope that strand held — if we wear this, we would always find our way to each other, because we have a red string connecting us now! You remember, you do, really — of course, you do; how you could you ever forget him? Surely, maybe he's grown a lot, and everything about him has changed, he even dyed his soft hair blue. You're certain, though, you knew that it's him — maybe the red string worked. Maybe it's the butterfly effect and the heartbreaks your heart and several others nursed. Maybe it's the look in his eyes that remained soft and sweet and honest.

You miss your train, but you can't help but feel like you're just in time.

"Jae—" you choke, eyes wide and shocked, "Jaemin!"

────── ❁ ──────

Na Jaemin meets you again on a busy train station, three years ago after he just came back in town for a visit. He remembers the punch in his gut at the sight of your face, the red string delicately wrapped on your wrist, far too small but still so beautiful. He remembers the sullen look on your face, the realization dawning on him that you're late for your class and he chuckles; you never really made it in time for school, even as a child. The rain pours and he has to fiddle his bag for his umbrella, opens it so that he could let you in. When he takes a step closer though, you were talking to another boy, and Jaemin thinks he's the one a little late.

He comes across you a lot of times next to that, too, but never when you're alone. He thinks, his timing is a mildly off as well. Every time he tries to come and talk to you — when you were sitting alone in the middle of a busy restaurant, inside the coffee shop, in front of his niece's kindergarten — there was always somebody else. It reminds him of back then, one of your conflicts as you started to grow up and apart; the many times you needed each other and the other person is too caught up needing someone else. Jaemin thinks that the beat you both are dancing to is a little too delayed.

Jaemin remembers meeting a boy just as blue as him, a face a little familiar, smiling longingly at the two dancing under the moon. He remembers eyes as regretful as his, he remembers a smile, "They look so happy, don't they?"

None of that matters, though, not when he's pulling you into a hug and dragging you to a rooftop, not when you're several floors off the ground and beside you is Na Jaemin, sitting side by side, with eyes that take you back to the past and makes you hope for an unbroken present.

When you two stand under the bright sky and you stare at him instead of gushing about flying, Jaemin realizes just how drastically different this present is. If the look in your eyes says anything, he's certain that you feel the same.

You have just always been waiting for this moment, you know? And you missed your train, but you were just in time to meet Jaemin, and the rush of affection cleared all the lines you had to cross and everything was light and filled with teary laughter before right now. You've had it planned, the both of you, multiple scenarios where you two could meet again — none of them are this way. It's awkward and tense and the other feels so far away; this wasn't how things were supposed to go.

Jaemin could leave. He should leave, he figures, thinking that it's always been what he's best at. It's not working, anyway; maybe it was him being gone and you going through so much, maybe it's life knocking some sense in the both of you, but none of that matters — it's not working. It's just like this, relationships — two people could start at the same point and still go separate ways. It's not meant to be. He could leave, forget, maybe he'd find enough courage that he marks this chapter closed and finally, finally stop thinking of childhood feelings and even the grown-up ones. He could find a new beginning in this chapter closed.

That's the way it goes, anyway, right? Some ends feel like new starting points. Jaemin could drop it here. He could make it easier for himself, he'd be able to say this isn't working and he'd be back to his normal self; the one that looks at you and looks for you in a way that he did before falling in love. He could be young and free, away from untold reasons and unsaid apologies and undelivered feelings. He could make it easier for himself.

But to hell with ease, he didn’t want to.

"Remember, back then, we would always sneak out to play in the rain?" Jaemin is the first to break the silence, "And we look at flowers... you used to cry at everything back then!"

You flick his arm at that, and he sits on the floor next to the railing because he couldn't hold himself up anymore, laughing. Even until now, this still feels like a very vivid dream. You spend the night trying to believe that this is reality — Jaemin does the same.

Fate has a tendency to bring people apart and put them back together again, so you can't really help it that Jaemin was months and weeks away from leaving the town again. There was a point where you cursed time — you just found him, and now, why is he being taken away from you? There was a time where Jaemin thought you weren't meant to be — if you are, then why do you keep on being forced apart?

He thinks he really should stop thinking this way. It's just something really odd, this love stuff, because it's never really just one thing but rather a couple of many nothings to make up an entirely different, supposedly magical occurrence. Love is never just love — it's oftentimes euphoria with even the slightest glimpse of devastation. Jaemin doesn't think he understands why the both of you try so hard to make it easy — no matter how difficult, he knows it's worth it, knows that he'll fight for it.

Jaemin spends his last day in this place smiling, cupping your cheeks as he stands in the middle of a busy train station yet again, this time, with you in his reach. The skies are dark but his smile is bright, and it burns brighter when you flush after asking him why he's staring at you so hard. The boy cooes, "Perfect should try to be you."

"If perfect was me, perfect would be a mess," you quickly counter even through you being too flustered. In your absolute anxiety, you think that everyone is looking and judging you. With the way Jaemin is staring at you, you don't think you'd mind even if they whisper things so mean.

"A lovable mess," he raspily whispers, sincerity in his gaze and honesty in his words. Jaemin smiles, "I can't make this up. I fall for you several times a day, repeatedly."

Jaemin lets go of your face and dips in to kiss your forehead, and then he giddily messes your hair. You can't even bring it in you to get mad — you have several minutes and you have so much to say and the time is too little, your words are so limited. Jaemin asks for your hands and leaves a red string, identical to the ones you gave each other as children but bigger and adorned with the tiniest butterfly charm. You look at him, confused, "What's this?"

"A farewell gift, and something I'll definitely come back for," he flicks your forehead as if to say it's so obvious, and you can't help but feel like time is running out all over again. You breathe, unsteady and ragged, a desperate call of his name, "Na Jaemin?"

He doesn't answer, but he wipes the tears streaming down your face and he hums.

"I'm so happy that the ending is me and you." You finally confess, taking him aback. You smile, sweet and cruelly beautiful, brutally emotional, and if there were no children around and Jaemin was a tad bit more shameless, he would pull you into a deep kiss. He couldn't, though, so he just gapes and stares and listens.

"I'm so happy that it's back to you."

As the train boards, you find yourself realizing how tough the world gets — the lovely, sinking feeling lingering in your chest as you recall the highs and the lows of life and fate.

You've had far too many great loves in your life, so much that using the term would probably not sound special anymore to other people — but they're different, each one of them, the way they loved distinct at least — and this one, just this one, Na Jaemin, by far, is the greatest.

The end is sweet and lovely, if a bit sour and bitter. The end is where you hopefully find yourself.

────── ❁ ──────

"Mom and dad keeps on fighting. " your nephew murmurs under his breath, one sunny Friday spent walking on streets that are cooling down, on the way to what must be the happiest place on Earth for a kid. "Do you think they don't love each other anymore?"

You nervously scratch your nape, thinking of easy ways to reply to the question. You think of your childhood, how you spent most of it dreaming of love. How until today, the thought of it still haunts you. You just shrug, "People just have some bad days, but look, they're still together, right?" he nods, and you feel a blossom of proudness in your chest, "They love each other, and that's why they had you."

The kid suddenly frowns, "Why do people get together, then?"

You halt your steps before continuing, on the verge of asking why he asked that question before you realize that it's your nephew, anyway. He loves holding mature conversations even if he doesn't understand anything, he likes asking away and being taken seriously, like an adult. You chuckle, "Uhm, because people make each other happy!"

"Why don't you have someone, then?" You don't know how to answer his question, and neither did you expect it. He looks too interested to be brushed off. "You said people make other people happy!"

"Hm, well, I do have someone," you think of sugar smiles and giggly kisses as you say those words. There's a comforted exhale leaving your lips as you look down on the kid, "But, he's not the only reason I'm happy... I'm happy with myself, without him."

"Do you not love him, then? Because you're happy without him?"

"I love him, I do, a lot! We went through a lot to find each other again," you smile kindly, patient. "But it's a different kind of love, just like how it is a different kind of happy with him."

His lips jut out, wondering about things not so completely disconnected from his first questions. He then sighs as if he's carrying the weight of the world, "If you had to find each other again, it means one of you left. Why did one of you leave if you love each other, then?"

Why?

"Well, you see, maybe..." there's no answer pouring from your lips, but emotions threaten to spill from your eyes and then down your cheeks. The child won't understand your tears, though, so you think of familiar faces and the one you entwined your fingers with, like home. You keep your head held high. "Maybe it's so that we could find each other again in a time where we would be better versions of ourselves."

It's not enough to sate his curious mind. "But if he's almost always never here, how are you supposed to know if he's the love you're supposed to have, then?"

"The love I'm meant to find has always been here, within me," you say genuinely, and the child, ever so confused but curious, remains silent to understand. You shake your head a bit, "but with him, this love grows bigger and bigger, and it helps us cross any kind of distance between us."

Finally satisfied, he stops asking questions at the sight of his most favorite place, muttering incomprehensible gibberish as he tugs you closer to the entrance. Then you think of how happy you are to be standing under this sky, above this ground — you think of the butterfly effect, all the little moments and major events, and everything that passed and will forever remain remembered. You think of all that lead you to this.

You look at the reflection of yourself from the glass walls of the candy shop, and you couldn't help a smile. The look in your eyes screams dreamy as you push open the door. This is it — you're on the way to loving yourself.

Welcome home.

133 notes · View notes

ping-ping-ying · 4 years

Text

ATEEZ as Yanderes! PT. 1/11

⚠️WARNING⚠️ : toxic relationships, mental, physical, and emotional abuse, mentions of death/murder, descriptive violence, kidnapping,

⚠️Disclaimer⚠️ : these are ALL FICTIONAL, and my OWN personal opinions and perceptions on the boys. Yanderes are NOT to be taken lightly or romanticized, these types of people are REAL and are/can be very dangerous. These kinds of stories are ONLY for entertainment. If you know anyone like this in real life, please get help!

HONGJOONG ⚖

Worship Yandere

"I'll do anything for you! I'll even kill for you! Please use me however you want!"

Hongjoong DEFINITELY strikes me as the worship yandere

Stalking would be highly likely

So he can know exactly what you like and don't like

Whether it be clothes, movies, your favorite historical event, it didn't natter

He took EXTREME action into knowing everything about you before he actually confronted you

When he first met you, he didn't just fall in love with your personality, but EVERYTHING about you

You didn't know but he was basically putty in your hands

Not that you would ever know

At first you were weirded out by him, due to him being so quiet, and his wandering eyes always staring at you

If you are upset, he will do ANYTHING to make you feel better

Someone at work/school made you upset?

You heard the news of that persons death the following week

You wanted a new pair of shoes that you couldn't afford?

Expect to have a whole closet filled with new shoes

No matter what you do, HE WILL NEVER hurt you

Like- ever

You could betray him, from the point of no return and he'd still worship you

Hongjoong doesn't care if you don't love him, he will still aim to please you at all times

He doesn't like killing people, he will only kill if they seem like a threat to you or your happiness

Doesn't realize he's being too clingy and possessive

But you say nothing in fear of hurting him

Hongjoong isn't that big of a softie once you get to know him

His cute, shy, and introvert persona would fade gradually over time

It was actually unnoticeable since the shift in character was cleverly planned out

Eventually you caught him in the act of beating up one of your friends because he was jealous that you were spending more time with them than with him

You called off your relationship immediately

He wouldn't fight you on the matter

But that won't stop him from secretly buying you things or taking care of your "problems"

SEONGHWA ⚖

Sadistic Yandere

"It hurts? That's your fault! Next time learn your lesson and stop looking at other men!"

I know exactly what you're thinking

"WOULDN'T THIS BE SAN?!"

I have thought about it, and to me Seonghwa strikes me as this type of Yandere the most

Seonghwa was also HIGHLY intelligent

He knew EXACTLY how to make you fall for him

It didn't matter how long it took

You were going to be his

Made sure to be your typical Wattpad fan fiction boy, whether you wanted him to be that "bad boy" or "good boy"

In the end he decided to try the good boy persona

When he met you, everything had to be perfect

He rehearsed lines ahead of time, and practiced until he had the courage to face you

It was at a summer carnival event, he helped you win a prize at the strength game

From the moment you looked into his eyes, you were putty in his hands

After almost a year of knowing each other, and a couple months of dating, things were going great

That was, until you decided to hang out with your old friends from high school

You invited Seonghwa to be your date to the gathering, and it was hell for him

The way you completely disobeyed his unspoken rules of talking to other men that wasnt him

The final straw that made him break his character was when it was time to leave and you have your male friend a big hug while giving him that smile that makes Seonghwas heart melt

When you got home he grabbed and dragged you to the bedroom

"Seonghwa what are you-"

SLAPPED YOU DEAD ACROSS YOUR FACE AND DID NOT GIVE TWO FUCKS

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

*SLAP*

"STOP IT WHAT-"

He smacked you a couple more times before he pushed you on the bed and decided you needed a lesson

Would torture you, sexually or plain physically

Don't scream or beg, it only fuels his drive to punish you

Will not stop until HE beileves you learned your lesson

YUNHO ⚖

Self-Harm Yandere

"Hey... look at me... look at me... look, there's so much blood coming out..."

Through your relationship, Yunho was pretty normal

Until you accidentally forgot to give him his goodnight kiss and hug

It was ONE night, because you were so exhausted from working/school and you passed out on the couch

In his mind, that one mistake told him that you didn't love him anymore

This Yandere has two sub units

One where they start harming themselves in private, and the second one, harming themselves openly

Yunho started off doing it privately

He planned this strategically

When you noticed cuts and bruises on his wrist the next day, you questioned him frantically

To which he nonchalantly explained that he hurt himself at the gym

But you weren't an idoit

You KNEW these particular kinds of injuries were caused by self harming

But you didn't press the issue because you assumed it was a sensitive topic for him, and didn't want to trigger him

Yunho began to lose trust in you

He was scared you would end up leaving him one day

All because of that ONE night

Even though after that one night, the normal goodnight kisses and hugs continued

But to Yunho it wasn't the same

So when you came home one day later in the evening, you and Yunho got into an argument

A very HEATED argument

It ended up with you saying his WORST FEAR

"If you don't stop this right now, we are over !"

That's when he snapped

"You're breaking up with me?!"

"If you don't stop acting like a selfish jackass then yes!"

Honey that's all he needed to hear to send him into a frenzy

He started punching himself in the face, to the point where his mouth started bleeding

"YUNHO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! STOP IT!"

He ignored you and then grabbed a sharp knife from the kitchen and sliced all over his arms, legs, torso, and face

You began to cry, and fear for your life

You backed up and was about to dial 911 when he yelled out,

"YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME! I'LL KILL MYSELF! DO YOU HEAR ME?! I'LL DO IT RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!"

You acted quickly and raced over to him cautiously trying to get him to stop

"Yunho baby I'm not leaving you!"

"LIAR!"

"Honey I didn't mean what I said! We were arguing and I just said something cruel but please know that I won't leave you ever! I love you."

"YOU PROMISE?!"

"I promise now stop hurting yourself please!"

Yunho did what you asked and then started to break down and cry

You engulfed him in a big hug and whispered sweet nothings into his ear

All the while, Yunho smirked, and smiled wickedly while crying

His plan worked

There was no way you were ever going to leave him now

Or so he thought........

YEOSANG ⚖

Stalker Yandere

"Do you ever get the feeling you're being watched?"

Yeosang is a man who likes to live off the radar

No one really seems him or acknowledges his existence unless he makes himself known

So stalking you everyday was no problem

You were oblivious to the fact he stalked you day and night

But that doesn't mean you didn't have any strange feelings

For the past three years you always had this sense of uneasiness

You didn't know how to explain it exactly

But you felt that you were always on the defense

Ready for something unexpected to happen to you

And not in a good way

Whenever you confessed these feelings, people would laugh and say that you're paranoid

And yes you were paranoid, because your psyche never lies, it's there for a reason

"I'm serious! Maybe I'm being stalked or something."

"Who would want to stalk you? You don't do anything."

A brutal attack, but the statement was true nonetheless

But that never set your psyche at ease

And the most fucked up thing about your whole "paranoia" was that Yeosang was in your life

He was your neighbor

And the two of you were quite acquainted

Granted Yeosang didn't exactly LIVE in that house down the street, but you'd never know

He would take run around the neighborhood for exercise and would stop to talk to you if he saw you

He played the role of the normal neighbor a little TOO well

Stalking Yanderes CAN be violent, but Yeosang wasn't

It would ruin his ability to stalk you in peace

He never hurt your, or the people around you

One day he told you a riddle that had you stumped completely

You loved when he told you riddles because it was like a little traditional thing whenever you two say each other

"Everyone has it, but no one can lose it."

This riddle had you stumped for days, and you didn't want to cheat by looking it up online

So by magic chance two days later, at night when you were laying in bed in the dark trying to sleep, the answer hit you

Instead of getting giddy with excitement that you fianlly figured out his riddles like you usually did, it made you feel, puzzled

The way his voice sounded as he told you the riddle

The smile that was staining his face as he did, had your psyche going crazy

You needed to calm yourself, because it was just a riddle, nothing more, and nothing less

So you drifted off into sleep and mumbled the words,

"A shadow."

SAN ⚖

Training Yandere

"Say you love me... SAY IT, SAY THAT YOU LOVE ME! SAY IT!"

This is why I didn't label San as the sadistic Yandere

Even though he could have easily slipped into that category

But not with this one chile

Unlike the Sadistic Yandere, San doesn't like causing you pain, it hurts him deeply to see you in pain

A lot of Atinys (myself included) are so used to San being labeled as "the demon" or "possessed" when it comes to his stage presence or when it comes to NSFW AUs

But you need to remember that San is actually a bubbly, clingy little cupcake off stage

So that's why I stuck him with the Training Yandere

But you need to be trained, so he has no choice but to hurt you

He easily kidnapped you after breaking into your home and drugging your food.

You didn't know who San was, never saw him a day in your life

But San was convinced that you'd known each other for years

(I can also sense a tiny bit of the Delusional Yandere in this one, but like I said A TINY bit)

In the basement you were, chained to a chair like an animal

He came skipping down the stairs happily and had a plate of food for you

"Now you can eat if you say the magic words."

"Please?"

San chuckled at your response

In normal situations yes that is the magic word, but San said "words" not "word".

"No that's not it."

"Well then what it is?"

"You know what it is silly."

The confused look on your face made San beileve you were lying, and that you were just being a brat

He hated brats

"Alright I see you're still going with this-"

He brought out his bag filled with torture equipment

And that's when you lost all sense of reality

You kept telling yourself that you were dreaming

It was the only logical explanation for this situation

"Awe don't cry, just say the magic words and you can be free of your restraints."

"....."

"The magic words are "I love you".

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?! I DON'T LOVE YOU! I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU!

(Y/N why couldn't you just play along tsk tsk)

"Oh boy, I was hoping we wouldn't have to do this."

The first tool he got out was a hammer, a big, hammer

And he released one of your hands only to hold it down on the table next to him

"You have ten fingers, let's see if you can say the words before we get to ten."

He aimed for your pointer finger and slammed the hammer down on it with all his might

"One."

You screamed bloody murder as you felt the pain shoot through your body

But you still didn't say anything

He slammed the hammer on your middle finger

"Two."

You still didn't say anything, how could you with all the pain you're in

The next finger

"Three."

No response

The next finger

"Four."

No response

San was getting frustrated, but didn't show it

He eventually broke all ten of your fingers, and was amazed at your strength of not giving in

But that's just the more violent he had to be

Next on the list, was your face

He slapped and punched you repeatedly, blood getting everywhere and your vision becoming blurry

But you STILL didn't give in

San had enough

He grabbed a knife from his bag and held it at your feet

This was also the final straw for you

You can live with broken fingers, but not feet

"SAN! I- I LOVE YOU!"

"What?"

"I'm sorry for being a brat, please forgive me! I love you!"

"Oh darling! I knew it!"

Of course you were lying, but he didn't know that

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez yandere #ateez scenarios #ateez mafia #ateez smut #ateez jongho #ateez wooyoung #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez mingi #ateez san #ateez hongjoong #ateez au

570 notes · View notes

poisonousroxstar · 4 years

Text

Imagine:

Being Midoriya Izuku's imaginary friend.

[SPOILERS] [SPOILERS] [SPOILERS]

This was inspired by the fantastic game (imho) Finding Paradise, an installment of the To The Moon series. If you'd like, you should check it out!

Bakugou's relentless bullying resulted in many children avoiding young Midoriya out of fear he'd target them next. Others would instead partake IN the bullying, in hopes of evading the blonde's ire or perhaps joining his little gang.

Not too long after that, you appeared! A gentle (sometimes) hand to keep him company. Speak with him, play with him, share with him. That was your duty.

Thanks to you, he wasn't lonely or scared, or afraid. Everytime you were around, you helped ease him out of those feelings.

Sometimes, you'd tease him about his hero obsession til' he blushed like a red tomato. You'd even call him "Red Might!" As a nickname, much to his dismay.

Sometimes on harsher days, he'd practically cling to you and want nothing but your presence. When that happened, you'd grab him by the hand and drag him off to your "special place" (another section of the park) and play around together. That really helped

One time, you'd threaten to beat up his bullies for him. But he declined the offer, because it wasn't the right thing to do. That and... You weren't real.

You had each other in the end. And so long as you existed, you promised to protect him.

What should of been a simple childhood phase sort of stuck with him. He matured, and grew, but some things stayed. And one of them, was you.

Of course, you weren't in child form anymore, but rather appearing like a young teenager like Midoriya. Yet, your personality didn't falter! You were still yourself, looking out for him and being there by his side. Which he appreciated.

Midoriya had grown so use to having your presence around him, he more or less forgot you weren't even real nowadays. He had a whole story thought out for you: a random kid who lived out of town from where he was, but still managed to hang out with him. And for the most part, people believed it.

In his eyes, you WERE real. You were there for him through everything, from the day he was a young boy to him training to become a hero.

Whenever people asked about his life, one of the special individuals he'd bring up first would be... His mother... And you. Sometimes though, he'd get a bit reluctant whenever people started prying for more information about his "never before seen friend", only giving the background and an excuse for why you weren't around.

Although you meant the world to him, Midoriya slowly paid less and less attention to you. He began spending his hours into training, studying, mentoring under All Might, and hanging out with his squad.

It didn't bother you much, because you loved Midoriya. If he was happy, you were happy. One time you teased him about how distant you two had gotten recently, which caused him to slightly choke for a minute before apologizing about it. You could tell he regretted the little time he had for you now, but you reassured him that it didn't matter. You were fine!

Watching Midoriya's transformation really was something. He went from a raining sprinkler to an occasional rain cloud.

After so long, he was finally growing up! And you couldn't have been more proud of him!

Of course... Growing up means things change. It was time, you figured..

Staying any longer would be pointless, he needed to place his utmost attention on real life rather then the fantasy world you represented.

He needed to move on.. from you.

So, late on his birthday when his friends had disappeared from the celebration. You told Midoriya to follow you somewhere speical.. well, you more like demanded him too, because he wouldn't move from his bed which felt unusually comfortable right now.

With a small displeased groan from Mr. Broccoli, you guided him out of the house. As you went, Midoriya began falling back, speed growing progressively slower. If it weren't for you dragging him, he probably would of halted right in his steps.

After perhaps an hour, you two wound up in a familiar place.

The park.

He wondered why you brought him here, but you simply smiled and continued holding his hand. Traversing through the area in a slow manner while enjoying the gentle rays of moonlight that glowed the ground underneath you two.

Finding a place under a tree, you sat down and enjoyed the crisp moonlit air, while Midoriya tried sitting next to you in spite of how uncomfortable the spot was.

Although it was dark, the moon's illumination helped brighten up the place. It was peaceful, perfect for your farewell.

You always admired Midoriya and his dedication to make you feel real. Even now, he pretended like he could actually feel your hand in his. Like yours really held warmth.

Midoriya knew why you had brought him here, he always did. But he didn't want to say his goodbyes to you, which is why he tried stopping himself from coming here.

He didn't want you to go, he didn't want this to be his final moments with you. You tried telling him how silly this whole thing was, that people would laugh at him if they knew.

He didn't care. Why should he? You were there for him since day one. you helped make him who he is today, you taught him how to be stronger! To be brave! To never give up!

You laughed, saying you taught him nothing but what he already knew. All he ever wanted was a friend, and you stepped in to take that role. Now that he had real friends, he didn't need you anymore.

Midoriya refused to believe that. He told you he'd always need you as he looked up to the stars that glittered the sky above him.

Midoriya had to learn that, staying with you meant he was still staying in his head. He needed to focus on the things that mattered, so he'd be able to appreciate life. Appreciate the time he has and to enjoy his future ahead.

You reassured him that, one day you'd come back, and on that day he'd tell you everything that happened in his life. even when you were gone, you were gonna protect him in your own way.

...to your suprise, he wasn't balling his eyes out. He was quiet though, and his eyes held sadness in them.

Getting up from your spot, you stood tall and stretched your limbs. A small yawn leaving your lips. As you were about to walk off, Midoriya stopped you.

"Hey, I haven't even...said goodbye yet.."

You smiled, bringing him to his feet. Wrapping your arms around him for one final embrace, you said in the softest voice:

"you already did, Midoriya... A long time ago"

And like that, you were gone.

Midoriya stood there for awhile. Alone and cold. He knew moving on was what you wanted, but it didn't mean he had to like it at first.

Midoriya went on as normal eventually, but when people would bring you up he'd only ever say that you moved somewhere far away, and spoke with fondness of your memory.

He held onto the hope that, one day, you'd come back. And when you would, he'd tell you everything that happened in his life.

Until then, he'll keep you close to his heart and memory.

youtube

(check this song out. But spoilers!!)

#Bnha #bnha imagines #bnha deku #Midoriya Izuku #Bnha x reader #Bnha S/O #midoriya x reader #Deku x reader #deku x you #deku x y/n #X reader #Imagines #S/O #Anime Imagine #Anime x Reader #Bittersweet

93 notes · View notes

whosaskingwrites · 4 years

Text

A Thousand Times (Osamu x Reader)

A/n: I'm gonna be real this took so long because I just didn't know what to do? And then I started a various! Haikyu x reader. But I got this done finally so if you've been waiting for this one here it is. Also I just really like putting Osamu through the ringer huh? I'm so sorry bby. And Forget You beat out Unrequited for top one-shot recently!

WARNINGS: Angst. There's one mention of assault as well. Told from third person Osamu p.o.v

Date: Friday November 6th, 2020

Details: 5 pages 1,800 words

Theme: Star Tears- The victim cries tiny star-shaped tears. They are extremely painful and eventually cause the victim to go blind. They produce a dim glow and make a light 'Tinkling' sound when they hit the ground. The blindness can be cured if the person the victim loves makes a statement of love and means it.

Angst Masterlist

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

There were so many other ways this was supposed to go. He thought while he looked at her. She stood twirling around the white dress catching the light and sparkling. She was beautiful to him and of course someone else thought so or else they wouldn't be here right now.

But here they were. 'Maybe' he thought if he hadn't been a coward then it would have been him dancing with her in a suit while she wore a white gown. It would have been him telling her he loved her. It would have been him calling her Mrs. Miya as they danced. Maybe he should have told her the day of their first date. While he helped her pick an outfit she had been panicked.

"Calm down Y/n," She scoffed in response "Calm down? Samu you and I both know I've never been on a date before. And now I'm going on one with my childhood best friend!" He watched her his heart rate picking up as she held up different clothes in the mirror.

"It's not that big of a deal y'know? He's known you pretty much your whole life," He stated feeling uncomfortable helping her. Maybe making her more nervous would be a better idea so she'd cancel and they could spend the day together. "I guess you're right but still! It's different now!" She stated. "Okay just...Treat it normally and you'll be fine,"

She went into the closet coming out in a cute outfit that fit her b/t figure just right. "Alright Samu I'm off. Wish me luck!" He waved by as she ran out the door a bright smile on her face and excitement in her eyes. He stood heading back to his own house with slow steps.

Arriving home he closed the door to his room intent on hiding away from everyone. He laid down staring at the ceiling as the familiar burning sensation built up behind his eyes.

"Fuck," he mumbled when he heard it the soft twinkle of a star tear and the pale glow that lit up a small area around his bed. More of them fell sparking pain in his eyes and across his face. The pain followed the trail left behind by the glowing stars and despite his best efforts to shove his palm into his eyes and stop the tears it didn't work.

"You know I didn't even think they liked each other!" Osamu tuned into her moms voice and then he heard his own mother speak and he sighed. "I know! I always thought she'd end up with Osamu not...," He tuned out knowing what they were talking about. He didn't need to listen anymore.

"Samu what's wrong with ya?" Atsumu was looking at him with judgement. His arms were crossed in front of him clearly upset and honestly he didn't blame Atsumu. "Nothing's wrong with me," He answered him. "Bullshit," His own eyes narrowed at his brother "I just don't like it okay?" Atsumu rolled his eyes "I told you you wouldnt," Atsumu voiced.

"Osamu," He looked to the right his eyes meeting the blank pair of Kita's. "Kita," he answered back watching Kita gesture with his hand. He stood following Kita outside throwing one last glance over his shoulder at Y/n as she danced around with Aran her dress sparking like freshly fallen snow.

"What is it Kita?" He asked when the two of them were outside. "You have to let her go Osamu," Kita voiced quietly. "I cant let her go," He said back. "Osamu...You shouldn't love her...Not when it causes this," Kita gestured to his face where the star tears were already prevalent.

"And you especially shouldn't love her now that she just got married," Kita sent him a pointed look. "I would go blind over and over if it meant I could love her," He answered the male staring forward. The wind softly brushed them causing their hair to flutter. "Osamu...We all know we didn't expect it to go this far...but he loves her so you have to let her go," They heard a series of dull thumps against the ground turning they saw Atsumu jogging over.

"Hey what are you two doing out here?" Atsumu stopped as he got closer a wide smile decorating his face. "Oh we were just catching some air y'know," Kita easily responded handing Osamu his handkerchief as he stepped infront of him, blocking him from Atsumu's view. He wiped his eyes quickly hiding the star tears before they could give him away.

"Shouldn't you be inside Tsumu?" He voiced at his brother while said male hummed. "Ah they don't need me in there right now. Sakusa’s getting drunk and Bokuto’s dancing with Y/n," He flinched at the last part of the sentence. Though Atsumu never seemed to notice "Isn't Bokuto drunk? Are you sure they should be dancing?" Atsumu shrugged at Kita's question. "I think they'll be fine," Atsumu adjusted the sleeves of his button up with a hum as if he was truly thinking it over.

"You know maybe I should go-," "There you are!" The group looked past Atsumu. Y/n was there a bright smile on her face her hands were wrapped into the skirt of her wedding dress. Her head was tilted to the side eyes crinkling in pure mirth. "Hey what are you doin' out here?" Atsumu asked turning to face her. "Ah Bokuto passed out Akaashi and Hinata are sitting him down now. But I think the party is wrapping up soon," she giggled it was a light sound and God did Osamu love it.

"Alright we'll be back over soon. Kita can you bring the lovely bride back to the party?" Atsumu asked with a small smile. "Alright ya flirt," Y/n said with a laugh taking Kita's arm as they walked back. Atsumu sighed as he sat down. "So...I know you're upset about this...," Atsumu started off quietly.

"Im not upset Tsumu...I had my chance and I blew it," He voiced. Atsumu sighed as he stood up heading back to the party. "Hey Tsumu," He said looking at his brothers back. Atsumu turned back facing him with a questioning look. "You told me that if at any point I wanted her you'd back off...I know that deals off the table now so just...don't hurt her okay?"

Atsumu shook his head "Im not going to hurt her Samu...She's everything to me," He raised a hand up to push his hair back the light from a nearby lamppost reflected off his ring. "You didn't even like her at first," He scoffed.

"Look Samu we all know you like her!" Atsumu claimed with an eye roll. "No i don't. You're just being stupid," He denied quickly just like every other time. "Alright fine Samu. I'll give you a deal," he rolled his eyes at his brothers provocation. "What?" He asked "You either ask her out by the end of the week or I do," Atsumu challenged.

He scrunched his nose in distaste "You don't even like her why would you ask her out?" He asked. "To spur you on. If you tell me to back off at any point I will y'know?" Atsumu said. "So you're just gonna string along our childhood best friend for this?" He asked incredulously. "No she'll get over it," Atsumu shrugged. "No. I'm not letting you string her along," He stated.

"You're right I didn't," Atsumu hummed in agreement. "But I love her now and that's what matters," He stared off into the distance with a smile. "You remember the day I told her I loved her? It was an accident too," he laughed.

They were playing at nationals. Atsumu and him were third years now and Y/n was watching from the stands. She wore Atsumu's jersey and everytime they looked at her she made a face at them before trying to get away from the guy next to her. Atsumu glared at the guy mumbling something under his breath "Let's finish this game," he angrily said. Sending one last glare at the man.

They finished the game with a service ace from Atsumu and as soon as the whistle blew Y/n raced down to the court the strange guy following her. She showed up on court with a smile "Tsumu!" He turned and on instinct Atsumu smiled as well. "Y/n," she hugged Atsumu while his nose crinkled. "Babe I'm all sweaty!" She pulled away placing a kiss on his cheek. "Dont care! I'll be outside okay?" She said skipping off.

Only five minutes later they were leaving the building looking for Y/n. Only for the team to pause as they spotted her. She stood trying to get away and the stranger that was in the stands with her was harshly gripping her wrist. "Come on baby I just wanna show you a good time!" "No thank you!" Atsumu moved first separating the two while grabbing the collar of the man.

Osamu grabbed Y/n holding her close to him while she held on just as tightly. "Hey! Why are you putting your hands on my girl!" Atsumu yelled. He wasn't paying attention too busy trying to sooth Y/n the handprint already forming on her wrist. "You're okay," he whispered into her hair line.

"Y/n," He was thrown back into reality then remembering that no he wasn't the one dating Y/n. "Tsumu," He let go of her watching her throw herself at Atsumu and he held on to her just as tightly. "Fuck you alright babe?" He said catching her arm and seeing the bruise. "Im okay now," she smiled at him. He didn't know what his brother was thinking in that moment but he just watched Atsumu kiss her and pull away. "Im glad you're okay...I love you Y/n," she gasped then and smiled again. "I love you too Tsumu,"

"I remember," he got up following his brother into the party he stood off to the side watching them as Kita and Suna came over. Atsumu reached Y/n and kissed her Atsumu's voice carrying as tears started to drip down his face. "Ready to go Mrs. Y/n Miya?" She laughed taking his arm. "Of course Mr. Atsumu Miya," and as they walked out the last image he could see was Atsumu and Y/n looking at each other matching smiles on their faces.

Her dress sparkled next to the black suit Atsumu was wearing. They were holding hands matching rings sparkling on their hands. His vision faded until it was just black but despise that he smiled.

"Take care of her okay Tsumu?"

___________________________________________

TAGLIST: @wonhomarshmallow

#haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#whosaskingangst #osamu miya #osamu x reader #osamu angst #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya

72 notes · View notes

imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years

Text

Dangerous Love (Pt. 07 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 2.9K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

<- Previous part (06)

Next part (08)->

{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

The Calm Before The Storm

• Bruce's POV •

I'm suddenly awake by a scream. Sitting up abruptly, I take in the silence. A bad dream probably. Running a hand through my hair, I lie back down, staring at the ceiling. Then I hear it again, a call for help and another yell.

(Y/N).

As soon as I recognize her voice, I'm already up, taking the key to her room and running there. Is she hurt? There's nothing in there that would cause an accident. When I'm close, I hear groans, like a cry.

But when I open the door, I find her on the bed, hugging her pillow tight. The soft light coming from the window reflects on the many tears on her face. What is it that scares her so much? She's breathing fast, hands clenched into fists.

Without thinking, I lie beside her, delicately touching her shoulder, trying to wake her up as softly as I can.

“Wake up.”

• (Y/N's) POV •

A voice calls you, and you're pulled away from your terror. You know who's calling, and you immediately feel safe. Bruce is saving you from the nightmares, and it seems like whenever he's in the dream, the bad ones don't come again.

“Bruce.” He's lying behind you, so you take his arm, pulling it over your waist. “If you hold me I won't be scared,” you mumble, moving closer to him. “Don't leave me.”

“I won't.” His illusion answers, and it feels so real. Why can't this be real? Because you're a villain, and he's the hero... Because you would never be brave enough to do this in real life. And Bruce would never want to hold you like this.

“Bruce?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

His voice is low on your ear, and you can't help but smile at the name he calls you. You feel his chest moving as he breaths. “This isn't real.”

“Why can't this be real?”

“Because nobody would love me.”

“You're wrong.” His thumb caresses your chin, and you smile again.

“I think I could fall in love with you,” you mutter.

“Me too.” His answer seems familiar as if you've already had this conversation before. Maybe in another dream. “Now get some sleep.”

“Ok.”

You're not scared anymore. With him, you know you'll be safe.

•••

You're happy today. You had a good night sleep, and you're one year older, which means you managed to stay alive for another entire year. And you're celebrating it out of that hell hole Belle Reve. You're brushing your hair, smiling to yourself when you hear the door opening.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hey, Bruce!” You exclaim, leaving the bathroom.

“I brought you this. But it's not your gift yet.” He shows you the plastic bag he's carrying.

“What is it?”

He searches for something in it, showing you a box die. “I had these for a while. It's the closest color to your natural hair.”

Hesitantly, you take the small box from his hand. It seems to have two more in the bag, and some other things. You knew he didn't like your hair. “Thanks...” You mumble, wondering if dyeing your hair would make him like you. Looking away, you make your way to the bed.

“You don't have to do it you don't want to.”

“I get it, Bruce. You want me to look normal.” And as quick as that, the day is ruined. Bruce doesn't like you, obviously, look at you. You're Havoc, a criminal. You can't look at him right now, so you put the box on the nightstand and lie down, pulling the blankets to cover your head. “Can you just bring me breakfast and leave me alone, please?” You can't deal with it right now. The best you can do is dream... In your dreams, Bruce hugs you, so tight... In your dreams, he's yours.

“(Y/N).” He calls, softly.

“Get out, Bruce,” you beg.

“I don't care about your hair color. I bought you this in case you wanted the natural color back. It's not about me, it's about you.”

“Then...” You sit up, watching as he sits on the edge of the bed. “...What if I wanted to dye the roots lilac?”

“Tell me what you'll need and I'll get it for you.” His stare is intense, yet gentle. Slowly, he puts his hand above yours in the mattress. “You're beautiful. Lilac hair or not. Now, come. I want to take you somewhere.”

“Where?” A smile comes to your lips as you get up to follow Bruce. He opens the door, and you give a little jump. “Are you taking me to see the gardens?”

“Yes. But you'll have to keep your eyes closed until we get there.”

Nodding, you close your eyes. Bruce takes your hand, and you cling on his arm. You walk slowly, mostly downstairs. You suddenly feel fresh wind on your hair and the lighting changes. You're outside. “Just a while longer now.”

“Alright.” You have to control yourself not to peak. Being here is already amazing. Bruce trusts you, right? He wouldn't do that if he didn't.

Stopping suddenly, you bite your lip. “Open.” When you do, you swear to God your heart stops.

There's a wooden table, and pink, purple and white balloons. A beautiful cake in the middle, cupcakes, colorful macarons... Confetti all over the place. You can't help but cry, but you don't try to hide it. You're still holding Bruce's arm, unable to move. Is it really for you? You don't deserve it.

“Bruce, I...”

“Happy Birthday, (Y/N).” He says, pulling you with him until you're at the table. “I hope you like it.”

“I... I don't even know what to say. My birthdays were like... Just robbery and then... This is...” You take a macaron, a blue one, and take a bite. “This is incredible.”

“That's not all.” Bruce walks around the table, taking two boxes he left of the bench, piled one above the other. “Your gifts.”

“Two?”

“Two. One for each month you've been here.” He puts them on the table, gesturing for you to approach. You're blushing hard now. “Open.”

“Alright.” Unable to hide the smile, you shily start open the biggest box. Inside, you find a beautiful, sparkly silver dress. As you pull it up to take a better look, the fabric is soft on your skin. It has a sweetheart neckline and spaghetti straps, bareback. “Do you think I'll look good in it?”

“We'll find out tonight at dinner,” Bruce answers with a smile.

“Dinner?”

He simply nods. “Open the next one.”

Taking a deep breath, you lie the dress down, focusing on the other box. Black high heels, Mary Jane flatforms if you're not wrong, with red bottom. It goes with the dress, apparently. “They look badass,” you say, holding one in your hands. “Are those for tonight too?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you... Nobody cared enough to give me something for my birthday. Not without me asking... Or demanding.” Shaking your head to push away the thought, you focus on what's happening now. “So... Thanks again.”

“Hey, no bad thoughts ok? No bad memories.” Bruce takes your hand over the table and you smile. “Now eat your cake.”

That's the sweetest morning you ever had. Bruce doesn't seem in a hurry to leave or to do anything else. You just sit there eating a little of everything. You take in the whole scenario, but Bruce is better than all this. Having him here with you... It's amazing. You never spent a birthday with someone you loved...

With someone you care about, you mean.

When it's time for lunch, you just start eating again.

“So... Were you here last night? Or did Batman went to patrol the streets?” You ask him, a hand caressing the fabric of your dress.

“I slept in yesterday night.” There's something weird in his voice, but you have no idea what it is. “What about you? Did you sleep well?”

Your mind floats back to the dream. It never felt so real, it's like your brain is pulling a joke on you. Maybe it's just your confused feelings playing tricks. You remember his arm around you, his chest pressed against your back, the warmth coming from his body... You'd give everything you have to make it real. Or everything you had, because now it's kinda obvious you can't claim those things. And you don't think you want to.

“Yes, I... I had the best dream and it... It made me feel safe.”

“Would you tell me?”

“I can't...” Whispering, you avoid his gaze. Does he dream about you too? Of course, he doesn't. “Good dreams mean something is working, right?”

“Yes, but that's not me. It's you... I just gave you a little push in the right direction.”

“Yeah... Uhm, it's getting late. I'll take a shower and read a little.” You need to go back to your room to think. The sun will start setting soon anyways.

“Do that. I'll call you when dinner is ready.” Nodding, you stand up and take your gifts, making your way back, but you stop when you notice he's not following you.

“Hey?” You call. “Let's go. Game Of Thrones book two is waiting for me.”

“You can go.”

Tilting your head to the side, you turn on your heels to look at him. “What do you mean?” You know the key is in his pocket.

“(Y/N), just go.” Even though the distance, you see a smile on his lips. “I won't lock your door.”

“Don't trust me too much, Bruce.”

“It's a little too late for that.” That said, he gets up, walking inside, and leaving you alone.

Taking a deep breath, you decide you can't deal with this before a long damn shower and some pages of the book. So you make your way upstairs, and you spend two hours in the bathroom, thinking. There's a lot going on in your head.

There's a part of you, a small part you figured out, that still wants to be Havoc. That part was what made you run and break the kitchen window. But there's something else entirely, another part, that wants the past to be in the past. The life you had out there was good. You had mountains of money, fast cars, expensive jewels...

Things.

You had plenty of things.

What Bruce gave you here, is beyond all that. He cared about you. Not because he has to, for being some of your employees. But because he saw something inside you that you couldn't. He looks at you with such kindness, he touched you so softly... You think you found yourself, the real you, behind all the walls you built. You had a hell lot of fun out there, in Gotham's streets... But at the end of the day, there was always the possibility of being caught. And for people like you, being caught means getting hurt... Badly. And there was emptiness too. Loneliness. It's not a good feeling to know people only care because they fear you. You know that now.

You know what you want. You want a better life. You have no idea how to get it, but you'll ask Bruce for help.

After the night falls, you put on the dress. It's beautiful, breathtaking. You look like someone else. The shoes make you a lot taller, but not as tall as Bruce. But you'll be closer to his lips, you're sure. When you turn around to see the back, you sigh to notice the bruises will be showing. Such a nice dress wasn't made for you... You have no idea what to do with your hair, so you have no option but to let it down. It doesn't look good...

There won't be anyone here, but you'll still feel misplaced...

A knock on the door makes you jump. “Miss (Y/N). Master Bruce is waiting for you downstairs.” Alfred announces.

You wish you had some make-up. You should've asked Bruce to buy you some. But now it's too late for that. Your hair isn't styled, your face is blank and the dress, which is supposed to beautifully leave your back exposed, shows off awful, disgusting bruises... But you have to go down there. So you breathe in deeply and walk out.

• Bruce's POV •

I hear the soft click of the high heels on the floor, and seconds later she appears, at the top of the stairs. It's impossible to hold back the smile that fights its way to my lips. I can't take my eyes off her as she carefully comes downstairs, a hand on the handrail. The dress fits her perfectly. My guess is that (Y/N) looks beautiful no matter what she wears, or what color she puts on her hair.

Her eyes wander around, to the lights, the chandelier, the table I set for us in the middle of the hall. And a smile, hesitant at first, takes over her features. From her lips up to her eyes, lighting her up.

“It's wonderful.” She says, stopping before me, yet avoiding my eyes. “I didn't notice how huge this place is. I would easily get lost.”

I'm looking down at her, taking her in. Her scent, delicate and unmistakable, draws me closer. She doesn't seem to notice though. “You'll learn,” I assure her, and she finally looks at me with funny eyes. She doesn't believe me.

“So you'll let me walk around the house now?”

“One more birthday gift.” I trust her. I saw as she broke the window glass, and punched through it, with my heart burning.

The thought of losing her that night suffocated me. Nothing scared me so much. But she suddenly stopped, and so did my world. Slowly, I watch as she stepped down the sink and silently walked away. That made me realize it's useless to pretend (Y/N) doesn't own my heart. It's in her possession, and she doesn't even know.

I walk beside her as she paces around, curious eyes observing every detail. As she comments on everything, I wonder where to go from now. From the acknowledgment of love. I've never been there. I never thought I'd be able to hold such a feeling, but (Y/N) has proven me wrong, as she's doing to everyone who thought she was a waste of time.

It's a lot easier to be Batman than to figure out these things. These feelings. I can't help but wonder if she feels the same.

She held me so close, on those nights she thinks I was a dream. She said it herself, that she could fall in love with me. Was it true? Is it happening? Should I ask? I'd know what to do if she was like the women who have tried to approach me. But it's (Y/N)... And I don't know what to do. My guard is down, and these feelings keep flooding my heart.

There's only one thing I know for sure. That my heart isn't my own again.

• (Y/N's) POV •

“That's the nicest thing someone did for me,” you admit, turning to face him. You have to focus on not letting him see your back. “It looks like a fairy tale.”

“I'm happy you like it.”

“I–” A soft song starts playing, coming from everywhere. A hell of a sound system he has. “There aren't many ladies to dance with this time, Bruce Wayne,” you tell him as he takes your hand, pulling you close.

“Good. That means I can dance with you all night.”

“You- you shouldn't say things like this,” you mutter, feeling his arms around your waist. Your hands lay on his biceps as he starts to swing from side to side, slowly. And yes, you are closer to his lips now. But he'd still have to bend down a little... You mean, if he ever considered kissing you. Which he probably never did.

“Why not?”

“Nevermind... Just...” You wrap your arms around his neck, your bodies standing close. You smile to feel his thumb caressing the bare skin on your back. “Bruce, I could never pay you back. Not only for this but... For everything you have done for me.”

“I'm not asking for anything in return.” He takes one of your hands, but when he moves you to spin around, you stop suddenly.

“No,” you mutter, going back into his arms. It was supposed to go completely unnoticed, but you feel his eyes burning on you.

“Something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” you mumble, eyes on his chest.

“(Y/N)? Didn't you promised to be honest?” You stop dancing, and he steps back a little, an index finger on your chin, pulling your head up until you're looking into his eyes. “What's wrong?”

“I... The dress is absolutely beautiful but... My back is all wreck and it looks so awful that... This dress wasn't made me someone like me... It just... My skin is still all bruised and...”

“I don't care. You're beautiful.”

Biting your lip, you have to control yourself. You want so badly to kiss him... And when he says things like this it only gets worse. “If you keep saying things like that I might end up thinking you like me so... Don't.”

“Maybe I want you to think that.”

“What?” As you speak, some sort of alarm goes off. Two loud beeps. A pause. Them two more beeps. “What's that?”

“Something happened. Something bad.” Bruce pulls you close suddenly, placing a kiss on your forehead. Your whole body burns, and you gasp for air. “I'm sorry, I'll have to go.”

“It's ok. Go get them, Batman.” You say with a smile, watching as he steps away, slowly at first, before turning around and leaving.

Alfred serves you dinner, and he also acts more kindly. Then you go to bed, the feeling of Bruce's lips on your forehead still burning. You're almost falling asleep when the door is opened, and a very worried Bruce makes you sit up abruptly.

“Hi.”

“(Y/N), I need you to listen to me.” He comes to sit beside you, and you hear a noise, like an airplane coming closer. “There's another Task Force X mission. And they demand you to go.”

“What?” It's hard to process what he's saying. “No.” You push yourself backwards until your back hits the headboard. “What- what do you mean?”

“There was nothing I could do.”

“No,” you repeat, hands covering your face. “Tell them I won't go.” You made a decision today, that you want a different life. Now, this... This can't be happening. Not now. Not when you're finally putting yourself back together. “Bruce, please.” You're crying, suddenly moving into his arms, tugging on his shirt. “I don't want to go.”

“Listen.” Bruce holds both your shoulders, his intense eyes on yours. “You're a strong woman. I'm sorry you have to do this and I promise... I promise you I'll never let them make demands of you again. You won't be their prisoner anymore.”

“Bruce...” You beg, eyes closing as you realize this noise is from their ship. They're already coming to take you.

“Listen.” He cups your face. “You'll track down some terrorists. They attacked a small town in New Mexico. You'll be doing something good, helping people.”

“Like you?” You whisper, your foreheads touching.

“Like me, yes.” A quick smile crosses his lips. “I will free you from them. I promise.”

“But I'll come back here, right?”

“Yes. They'll bring you here when the mission is over.”

The noise gets louder and louder until it stops. They're here.

Bruce walks beside you, silently. You're shaking like a leaf. When you reach the front door, you hear people talking. Taking a deep breath, you tell yourself that you can do this. You have to. Because you have to come back.

“Are you–”

You let the impulse fulfill its purpose this time. Pulling Bruce by the collar of his shirt, you tiptoe, crushing your lips on his. You swear you feel a little dizzy, but you don't give him time to react. Stepping back, your strength suddenly renewed, you open the front door and face the guards that came here to take you away.

@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker

#imagine bruce #bruce imagine #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne imagine #imagine bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #ben affleck batman #imagine batman #batman imagine #batman x reader #Justice League imagine #justice league imagine

88 notes · View notes