#I have been lonely and overthinking every single thing I have ever said or done for 3 days | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kaistarus · 3 years

Text

BitterSweet

Pairing: Itadori YuujiXReader

Words: 2.4K

Summary: How Yuuji makes his way into your life with brights smiles and shitty coffees

A/N: just in time for his b-day :3 i’ve loved this boi since before i even started jjk, so i’m glad I got to finally write for him lol

Masterlist

Bitter.

Bitter-with a hint of vanilla-was what you associated with Itadori Yuuji. His beaming smile at your first tutoring session forever connected with the pungent coffee he offered you.

You stared at the cup skeptically, “what is that?”

“Coffee?” Yuuji answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought every college student liked coffee.”

He wasn’t wrong, “but why did you get it?”

“Because you got up so early to help me,” Yuuji’s smile widened as he waved the drink around.

“Well I’m scheduled, so I would have been here whether you signed up or not.” You pointed out, glancing at the clock nearby that read too-early-in-the-morning and gestured for him to hand it over. He looked so pleased with himself that you were sure if he was a dog his tail would be going wild.

That was the only explanation you had for why you didn’t tell Yuuji it was the worst thing you’d ever tasted, hiding your full body cringes when he looked up after digging through his backpack.

“So, what are we doing first?” He asked excitedly, holding a creased notebook with uneven pages and a packed folder with papers hanging out. You stared at it wearily, but unfortunately he was far from the worst case scenario-a folder was huge compared to some you’d run into.

“I guess just give me your last exam and we’ll work from there.”

Yuuji chuckled awkwardly, fingering through the mass of papers in his folder before producing a packet marked heavily in red ink. You sighed at the single digit number at the top with a frowny face beside it.

Looked like you and Itadori Yuuji were going to be spending a lot of time together.

**************

“You’re overthinking it, Yuuji.” You rubbed your temples having spent the last thirty minutes working through the same problem with no success. You were beginning to lose all hope.

“But it doesn’t make any sense,” he groaned, leaning back in his seat. “I’m supposed to figure out the probability of what movies were action movies, but how was she able to watch eighty movies in one week?”

“That isn’t the question.”

“It isn’t possible though!” He jabbed his eraser at the paper. “Did she sleep? I bet this Melissa chick fast forwarded or skipped.”

“Yuuji…”

“Can you go a full week without sleep? If she slept through some, are they part of the eighty?” He gripped his pink locks in frustration. “How do I know which she slept through? Is there a timeline?”

You deadpanned as he scanned the page stressfully like it was holding him hostage with its contents, “I don’t think they provide a timeline, no.”

“Sorry,” Yuuji sighed defeated, slouching forward to rest his chin on the library’s table. “I swear I’m trying.”

You leaned against your palm, eyes softening as he glared at the homework sheet under him. “Don’t apologize,” you slid the sheet from under his chin. “You’re my favorite session after all.”

“I am?” He perked up.

You rolled your eyes while circling a segment of the first word problem. “You can just make up wild backstories for each person. Melissa doesn’t have to sleep and can absorb movies abnormally fast or something.”

Yuuji blinked several times as his lips curved into a smile. “What about the guy who owns over four-hundred chickens?”

You forced down your own smile and shrugged, “he’s just lonely.”

Yuuji laughed, continuing down the page while spewing out ridiculous stories for the unfortunate names in the Stats problems. Your heart beat firm in your chest at how excited he was now while scanning the page. The ticking clock above you felt like a curse the closer it got to the end of your session.

You guessed you didn’t hate the mornings anymore if they were with him.

*************************

You tapped your pencil’s eraser impatiently on the booth's table. The smell of brewing dark roast drifting through the small cafe accompanied by the combined noises of workers preparing early risers beverages kept you from dozing off where you sat. Finally, after what felt like forever-probably a few minutes-Yuuji slid into the booth across from you and placed a mug in front of you.

“I can buy my own coffee, Yuuji.” You took the mug wearily, eyes darting around the near empty cafe you’d decided to meet at this week to ‘spice things up’ in his words. “People might get the wrong idea.”

“I didn’t think you cared about that stuff,” he said with a teasing smile that you returned with a half-assed glare. “It’s my payment for making me smarter.”

“I already get paid,” you pouted at the drink in your hands. “And you’re already smart. I just help you understand it.”

He didn’t respond and you glanced over, confused at his slack jaw expression.

“Oh,” he started shuffling through his backpack and you swore his cheeks were dusted pink. “Yeah, that-uh-makes sense.”

“Right,” you raised a brow at the weird response, but decided it wasn’t worth pursuing. There wasn’t enough time in the world to question every random thing Yuuji did.

“What’s on the schedule today boss?”

“Your exam’s tomorrow,” you said, pulling some sheets from your own backpack. “I printed your practice exam since I’m guessing you didn’t know it existed.”

“Hey,” he pouted. “I didn’t, but still...”

You snorted, sliding the packet across the table. “Just do the ones you can and I’ll help with the rest.”

He saluted you, unnecessarily scribbling his name across the top before getting to work-his tongue poking out adorably while his eyes scanned the words intensely. You felt your chest filling with an unfamiliar warmth as you watched him work and your hand drifted subconsciously toward the mug next to you.

You coughed, unprepared for the harsh flavor, only wiping the grimace off your face when Yuuji peered upward with an innocent head tilt. Your heart squeezed when you locked eyes too long with his dark hazel before a soft smile filtered onto his lips. You quickly dropped your stare, hoping that if you avoided looking at him you could avoid the weird feeling emotion rolling in your stomach as well.

***************

You slouched up the library's stairwell, pushing through the second story’s double doors that led to your usual reserved tutoring table. The school really needed to push back your start time-seven in the morning was way too early for any college student to effectively teach or learn anything. The only person ridiculous enough to continuously sign-up for this time was-

You gripped your backpack straps as strong arms wrapped themselves around your midsection, picking you off the ground without warning. An unwanted frightened squeal left your lips before you recognized Yuuji’s laughter behind you and you relaxed as much as you could with him spinning you around in a library half-full of people.

“What are you doing?” You glared at him over your shoulder, cheeks warm from embarrassment at the scene he was causing.

“I got a C!”

You blinked several times before prying his arms off you, “are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he slid his backpack off, digging around before offering you a crumpled up packet with a seventy-four and a smiley written on top. You stared at it with a growing smile and without thinking too much you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yuuji, this is amazing!”

“I know,” he laughed, encircling your waist awkwardly given your backpack. “My roommate didn’t believe me. She’s doing my dishes for a week thanks to you.”

You weren’t sure you felt good about that after seeing his level of disorganization, but you smiled back anyway. “I’m so proud of you.”

Which was true. Your chest was swollen near bursting with pride for him and he’d only gotten a C. You told yourself it was because of your own skills as a tutor, but had you ever been this excited for someone?

“Hey, we should celebrate.” Yuuji stuffed the exam back into his bag. “Do you wanna-”

“Can you guys quiet down?” a guy with four crushed energy drink cans and food wrappers laying haphazardly around him asked. “I can’t focus and I just wanna go home, dude.”

“Sorry,” you whispered as warmth crept up your neck, turning Yuuji toward the exit as he stared at the guy in amazement. “We’ll leave you alone.”

“How long have you been here?” Yuuji asked in awe.

“Twenty-five… No, maybe eight...” The guy narrowed his eyes at the clock. “Time’s an illusion man.”

Yuuji nodded, impressed, shooting the guy a thumbs up as you pushed him toward the doors. Once in the stairwell you shot him a bright smile, “celebrate?”

He nodded excitedly. “We can get coffee!”

You turned away quickly to cover your panic, “or maybe anything else?”

Yuuji hummed, “I guess change can be nice.”

Your heart did a bizarre skip at the soft look in his eyes and you hurriedly started down the stairs without him. You spent more time that morning brushing off each reaction to Yuuji than enjoying your time with him. When everything was done you started thinking that you were having a hard time kidding even yourself.

**************

You and Yuuji had been working in silence for the past twenty minutes-the longest he’d gone without needing help since he’d signed up for tutoring. It was a great sign that for some reason had your stomach knotting uncomfortably.

“You’re doing really good,” you complimented, admiring the delighted smile he gave you.

“Yeah, I used what you said about note taking for lecture.” He showed you his notes that were beyond chaotic, but apparently worked for him. “I actually understand what’s going on now.”

“That’s great,” you looked down at your Chem problems and attempted to keep your tone light. “You probably won’t need tutoring soon if this-.”

You heard his pencil snap and looked up to find him staring holes through his paper. He seemed tense as he pressed his pencil roughly against the notebook and you wondered what word problem would’ve caused that reaction.

“Are you stuck? Do you want me to-”

“I like you.”

You paused mid-reach for his textbook and locked eyes with him, his cheeks flaring up a dark pink. You opened and closed your mouth several times before mumbling out a weak, “what?”

“And I don’t want you to tutor me,” he looked frustrated with himself when you tilted your head at his contradictory statements. “I mean, I do, but not always. I just want to spend time with you and not talk about Stats because I hate Stats, but I really like you.”

That weird feeling was back. The one where your chest felt tight and your heart was beating too quickly and your stomach sort of felt like you might throw up, but all in a good way and that made everything weirder. It was a lot and not enough and that made you nervous.

“I don’t know, Yuuji.” You lied.

“That’s okay,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No pressure. I just sprung it on you, so I don’t blame you.”

You nodded, watching him dig around his bag for a second pencil while grumbling about organizing that you knew would never happen. Your heart ached in your chest as you watched him continue working casually, playing off whatever happened.

...but you weren’t sure you could do the same.

************

This was a terrible idea.

You swung your legs, perched atop a railing across from a building that Yuuji was currently taking his midterm. It didn’t matter how you got that information-accessing his schedule with the few perks your job gave you-all that mattered was you had five minutes to figure out what you were going to say to him.

This wouldn’t even be an issue if he hadn’t skipped tutoring a few days ago. You weren’t sure if he thought you hated him or if he was regretting confessing to you, but either way you needed to talk to him before your window closed.

If only any of the speeches you could think of weren’t absolutely humiliating. Three minutes now? That should be enough time for you to at least get the beginning-

“(Y/N)?”

Your head whipped to the side so fast you're sure you got whiplash, dumbfounded that Yuuji was standing there with his head cocked to the side.

“You finished early,” you said, face warming at his growing confusion. “Not that I would know that.”

“Right.” He gave you a once-over. “Whatcha doing here?”

“Uh,” your nose crinkled while searching for a reasonable excuse. You sighed when you came up empty. “You skipped tutoring.”

Yuuji’s eyebrow rose and he waved his hands around. “I accidentally slept through it.” Then you noticed the gears started turning in his head and you began shrinking in on yourself. “You came here because I skipped a lesson?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you were going to keep skipping,” you avoided his eyes, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “It’s a bad habit.”

He knew you were full of shit. You could tell by the way he was forcing down a smirk when you stared at your feet. This would obviously be going so much better if you had those three minutes to prepare.

“Thanks for checking in,” he smiled, fishing around in his pocket and holding out his phone. “We should probably exchange numbers so you don’t have to go through all this trouble next time.”

You eyed the phone and rolled your eyes, “makes sense.”

He looked overjoyed when you took it from his hands. Your heart felt like it would pound out of your rib cage while he watched you create your contact, your fingers shaking slightly under the pressure.

“As an apology, I should probably take you to get food too.”

You paused, looking up at his hopeful gaze before nodding shyly. “That seems fair.”

The smile that overtook his face was probably the largest you’d ever seen and your heart nearly exploded when he grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the building. You probably should have seen this coming the moment you began looking forward to your morning shifts with him. As he dragged you down the street you found yourself not caring where he took you-you knew you’d be happy as long as he was with you.

#itadori yuuji #itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuji fluff #yuji x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #itadori x y/n

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sinisterlyhan · 4 years

Text

01. lee minho / 9486 words

fwb!minho, oral (f & m receiving), unprotexted sex, female reader, slight angst and fluff, romance, lots of kissing, mc being kind of a brat, minho being kinda dominant

a/n: ahh, i finally wrote for minho! i hope this is good ;;

the thee bags of sugar you poured into your cup of hot coffee have probably been completely dissolved by now, considering the obsessive way you kept stirring the liquid with your teaspoon and not actually drinking it.

keeping your eyes out the glass window by the coffee booth, you allowed your mind to drift off to a familiarly foreign place as you mindlessly watched the passersby.

your lashes fluttered along with each shift of your eyes, your gaze jumping from one insignificant person to another as you accessed the idea that people are literally everywhere around you—annoying kids, depressed students, tired parents, and the slow folks.

the concept, more than often, flies past you on a daily. therefore, when you sit down and truly acknowledge the number of people you brush past every day, it is quite a staggering fact.

but what’s more bewildering than that, though, was the fact that out of all these people you could meet and think about, the only person who has ever really been on your mind was lee minho—a nice classmate, a good friend, and a few quick fucks.

a few. you heaved a lonesome sigh and replaced it with a bitter huff of laughter.

you wished it was only a few quick fucks. you should have stopped after a few of them and you should have never picked your hand up and sealed his ‘fuck buddy?’ deal with a firm handshake. but you were lonely back then, dry and lonely.

you had wanted love, genuine or not, and minho’s seductive kisses down your body were the closest thing you could get to feeling appreciated, so you made the biggest mistake of agreeing to be friends with benefits with him.

it has been half a year since you two established the relationship; the sex was frequent during the first few weeks, and then the passionate nights started to space out a little until you two spent more time with plans to hang out than to fuck each other.

your immature mind hadn’t been smart enough to fathom the idea of you ever falling in love with somebody like minho, because you knew you weren’t the type to blatantly fall for someone out of your league. it was the kick that got your to seal the contract.

but alas, minho has been more than irresistible the past few months.

he wasn’t just a fuck buddy, he has never been just that from the start of it all. nothing about your new relationship was awkward despite you two being silent classmates for so long until a house party came and messed it all up. and unlike what you expected, he never tried to distance himself to keep that sole status.

he wasn’t aloof, nor did he act like a stranger. minho was a good friend, a good classmate, and a good fuck if you may say so.

he has helped you with your classes numerous times; printing assignments last minute for you in the library because you were too sleepy to do so last night, scanning his thorough notes for you unprompted because he noticed you struggling during class, reading through your materials out of his class time just so he could further explain something to you.

he’s also been the best emotional support you’ve had; he has never complained when you unreasonably snapped at him because of too much stress, he puts up with your constant overthinking and temper tantrums, and he gets you snacks on his own grocery run because he thought you might get some cravings sometime during the day.

and, of course, the sex has never once been dull ever since you met him, but it was in a lot of the little things he does that makes your heart ache the most; it was him always making sure you’re okay, and him constantly giving you praises. how he loves to make eye contact and hold your hands. how he knows exactly when to be soft and when to be hard.

when did he stop being just minho to you, you haven’t the faintest idea. but your feelings for him have changed drastically over these amazing months, and it became your downfall because he has not contacted you for weeks.

just complete radio silence, nothing, gone.

“i’m telling you he likes you, okay?”

you rolled your eyes as you snapped out of your trance. turning your head to look at jisung, you pursed your lips and shrugged in bland disbelief. “shut up.“

“no, you shut up and listen to me,” he leaned forward on his seat, his eyes glaring because he was sick and tired of being ignored by both of his friends. but now he’s got a fifty-fifty chance of being a matchmaker, so he planned to go all out. “i have known minho for as long as my fat baby legs can waddle to the sandbox in the park, okay. and not once have i seen him run away like this.”

“this, this thing that he is doing?” his finger excitedly jammed against the surface of the table as he stared at you pointedly, emphasizing his words with each jut of his jaw. “this is serious, and what serious thing can he be afraid of?“

you waited for him to speak, but the silence he purposefully left out was urging to be filled in. you looked away, baffled, and you scrambled your mind to think of something to say.

“i don’t know? faili–“

“wrong!”

“a dise–“

“terrible answer!”

“ma–“

“zero points for yo–ow!”

“knock it off, jisung!” you scolded with annoyance after you flicked his forehead with your fingers, shoving his head back to the cushion of the booth seat. “i know what you want me to say… i just won’t say it.”

“he loves you, (name),” jisung said, hiding every bit of uncertainty behind his persuasive facade—his presentation face, as he calls it. “i really think he does.”

and he wasn’t lying. jisung gave the situation a fair share of analyzing, and he concluded with the fact that minho might just have fallen in love with you. because one thing he knew about minho was that while he is kind, he is not nice.

there is a distinctive difference; kindness is selective, it is earned, it is given by choice. nice is blind, it is a mindless thought, a moral conscious.

anything that goes between minho and his goal, or his dignity, or some dramatic factors as such, minho will not hesitate to lash out. he is kind, not nice.

and you—you’ve been plucking the kindness out of him like he was a river that could never run dry.

disrupting his study schedule to tutor you? ditching his long-term friends to keep you company? apologizing first and being the bigger person in petty arguments?

minho was good to you when he didn’t have to, and he still was kind to you when he didn’t want to. he wanted to keep you happy, he gets the thrill of being able to take care of you, and you can feel comfortable around him.

jisung would even go so far to say minho was head over heels for you now, with his heart bleeding dry for your sake. and he’s running away from it because the concept, the feeling was foreign to him.

“just go to his house, find him. he probably misses you like crazy,” he urged tentatively. “talk it out, or fuck it out if that’s what you guys are used to.”

“do you think it’s that easy? like i can just go up to his home and kiss him?“ you asked, exasperated that jisung didn’t seem to understand the limitation of your tolerance for humiliation and appearing desperate to other people.

“sure, why not! i’d totally do that if i were you!” he boasted, clapping his fist to his chest as he huffed through his nose. “it’s not like he isn’t jerking off to the thought of you anyway! it’s either that or he’s crying himself to sleep at night!”

“that’s…” your voice awkwardly trailed off.

“too much?”

“no, no, just…” you hummed with a slight shake of your head, unable to break through his innocent gaze and not sure how to tell him you missed seeing minho in his naked glory. so instead, you chose to back down. “nothing.”

you blinked, still processing his previous words in your head as you finally brought your coffee up to your mouth to take a short sip.

the sugary taste was barely seeping into the bitterness of your coffee, the last three bags of sugar you added having done nothing to help you savor the taste. and you thought about how minho would probably switch his drink with you or offer to order you a new one if he was here.

jisung watched as you put down your cup and reached for another bag of sugar. he laughed, shifting his legs and leaning against the back of the booth. “the sugar is bad for you.”

“i know,” you muttered as you shook the bag and let the content spill all over your drink.

jisung watched with nonchalance as you picked up your metal spoon and started stirring your coffee again. and he didn’t say a single word.

minho pushed his glasses perched upon the bridge of his nose, and he continued with his note-taking as his eyes focused on the massive text displayed on his laptop screen.

it was all he has done this day. right after morning classes, he headed out for lunch by himself and simply went home. he tried to ignore the stubborn unfamiliarity of spending most of his time alone, hoping the ghost of your voice would eventually stop haunting his heavy steps into the local boba shop, or even just to the edge of his bed when he decided to take a short nap.

he woke up alone, dazed and annoyed. but he was mostly tired; tired of being alone when he knew you were a call away, tired of drowning in chosen solidarity because he wasn’t brave enough to confront his feelings, tired of being scared that you wouldn’t return the affection his heart discreetly held for you.

it was very unlike him, and the change was frustrating. minho never thought himself to succumb to romance yet here he was, making bad decisions and pushing you away when all he wanted was to hold your body close.

the uneven grip on his pen caused him a sudden scrape across the lined-paper. he glanced down the rogue tweak of the letter 'r’ and he clicked his tongue. dropping the pen, he rummaged through his crowded pencil case for a white-out, just in time as the doorbell to his apartment rang.

he furrowed his brows as he perked up, his head turning to look behind his shoulder at the door. discarding the matter at hand, he stood up and made his way to the front door, where he sung the door open and immediately revealed you standing before him.

“hi,” you breathed out when you met eyes with him, your gaze hardening slightly in sudden timidity.

minho gave you a quick scan before he nodded. he, too, feeling rather awkward at what felt like a confrontation to him. “hey.“

“can i come in, or are you going to keep shutting me out?” you laughed meekly, pointing into his apartment and letting your eyes move away from him briefly before returning to his face. “i’m already here anyway, you might as well.”

“i… yeah, sure, come in,” he said, taking a step aside as he opened the door for you. he watched you head inside, kicking your shoes off and shoving them to the side. he eyed the plastic cup in your hand, and he attempted to make light conversation out of it. “you got coffee?”

“oh, yeah. i was hanging out with jisung just then,” you said, turning to face him. you stuck your hand out, giving him the cup. “do you wanna try some?”

“no, i’m good.” he waved his hand.

you looked at him, a faint pout forming on your face before you shrugged and brought the straw up to your mouth. “okay then, it’s probably better for you anyway,” you sipped the coffee, “i dumped like… six bags of sugar in it.”

the change of facial expressions on his face was priceless. he went from processing your words in confusion, then his eyes widened in surprise, and at last his brows furrowed in dismay that you were still sipping the drink like you didn’t just turn it into a liquefied candy cane.

“okay, no, i’m confiscating it,” he said after allowing you a few more obnoxious sip. he grabbed the cup away from you and held it out of your reach, ignoring your continuous protest. “do you know how unhealthy that is?”

“yes, but it’s sweet!“ you complained.

“it’s sweet until you get type-two diabetes.” He rolled his eyes, turning around and heading over to the fridge located in the open area where the kitchen was. “especially when you don’t just drink one cup of coffee every other week, you drink it several times a week, which can toll up to a lot of sugar intake and i am not about to let you run around self-sabotaging your health–”

he stopped talking when he turned away from the fridge and immediately saw you standing before him. the proximity of your faces was a little too close for his liking—not his subconscious, just his stubbornness—and he didn’t know what to do when he was confronted with it so abruptly.

he hasn’t seen you in some time, which gave him no opportunity to create such intimacy. and even though he had missed being able to feel comfortable with you being close, he suddenly didn’t know what to do. he would love to keep his emotions in check, and he would love to not spill secrets he had no intention to tell.

you glanced down to his lips and automatically huffed. jisung’s words flew back into your mind then, telling you to just kiss him now that you’ve made a mistake of stepping into his personal bubble. it wasn’t like minho was actively pushing you out anyway. you could just try, and if it doesn’t work out in your favor, you could just play it off.

a gasp left his chest when you suddenly leaned in and kissed him. your hands went up to cup his jaw, bringing him closer to you when you felt him starting to reciprocate the kiss. you have longed to do this for so long, sometimes it felt like you’d forget the way his lips feel if you go without it for one more day.

the nervousness within was slowly started to vanish, but part of your brain registered how minho wasn’t kissing you with the same vigor he used to whenever you two share a kiss. it felt out of place to feel his mouth move so slowly against your own, and it was not in a harmonious way.

his lips slacked against yours because his brain wasn’t functioning well. minho has missed you more than ever and this—this was practically a dream come true! he was finally kissing you again, and he wanted nothing more than to keep going, to put roam his hands all over you again.

but he couldn’t. he couldn’t allow himself more depths to fall for you, he couldn’t keep digging his own grave with uncertainty and doubt.

he would rather guarantee he can still be friends with you after sorting out his feelings, than risk you not returning his affection and jeopardizing your comfortable relationship.

“w–wait, (name)–stop–” he pulled away from you, taking in a breath of fresh air when his lips detached from yours. the air was eerily cold, he didn’t like it at all.

your hands dropped from his face, your heart sinking to your stomach the same way. that was enough indication—him pushing you off pretty much told you everything you needed to know about how he felt, and god, you felt so conflicted at the discovery.

you were mad at yourself for letting him allow so much control over you. the sheer anger that bubbled in your chest when you felt tears brimming at the back of your eyes was immeasurable. you warned yourself about this, you warned yourself about him, yet you still fell. and now you felt weak and hopeless because he didn’t love you back.

you also felt wronged somehow. the fact that minho has been such a kind friend to you has given you the false assumption that he would at least give you an explanation. if he didn’t want to keep the sexual relationship, he should have just been truthful to you instead of trying to ghost you for weeks and leaving you to your lonely thoughts.

but you wouldn’t have cared if you didn’t like him. him ignoring you wouldn’t have been a problem if you didn’t fall for him.

“what is your fucking problem, minho?” you asked, your anger boiling up. but despite that, your voice was more leveled than ever, as if you were exhausted. it was all being suppressed in your chest, burning and rotting away.

you smiled at him a little, the forced kind of smile, and you sarcastically laughed when you spoke, “if you got bored of me, you could have just said so.”

minho opened his mouth, surprised. but the light glimmer behind your eyes created a new kind of chaos in his head. he has seen you cry before, and this time it was all him.

“i–no, that wasn’t the problem, i just–”

“did i do something then? are you mad at me, or something like that?“ you cut him off with a scoff, shaking your head slightly as you frowned at him. “because you left me alone for weeks. you were a terrible friend to me, and i had no idea if it was me or you.”

“i’m not bored of you, (name). neither am i mad at you,” he replied quickly, sighing as he looked at you with softened eyes. “it's—something personal happened, nothing was your fault.”

you pursed your lips together, feeling slightly less agitated as your questions slowly got resolved one by one. “what is it, then? what happened to you?“

“i…” i fell in love with you.

you waited for seconds for him to talk but all minho could do was look down at the floor, fearing for what would happen to you and him if he ever told the truth. a sigh left your lips at his silence, disappointed that he couldn’t give you a proper answer.

“fine, don’t tell me,” you said, turning around to leave the kitchen area.

“hey, wait, where are you going?” he followed suit, panic flooding into his eyes.

“away from you,” you muttered as you put on your shoes. “don’t worry about seeing me again, i won’t bother you anymore.”

minho hasn’t realized he was unintentionally ruining the relationship until this point. in his attempt to keep his feelings secured and hidden, all to prevent the breakage of your friendship, he failed to notice the damage all the avoiding did to it.

now you were planning to leave him forever, to walk out and completely cut him out of your life. and oh, he was scared. he could not bear to never seeing you again, or even just to stomach the thought of you hating him because of his stupidity.

“wait, no, hold on–” he grabbed ahold of your hand when you grabbed the doorknob. before you could fling him away, he turned you around to face him and, impulsively, grabbed your face to crash his lips against yours.

yes, crash. with the amount of force he was using, the word crash would deem fit. you tried to push him away from you, but your little fists were futile to his broad chest, and soon enough he had you weak at the weeks with the exasperating way he was kissing you.

you could taste this one, his emotions were vivid at the tip of his tongue as he finally learned to surrender himself into you. he was desperate, he was lustful, he was burning at the tips of his skin just to kiss you like there is nothing else he could mean more than this exact moment.

when he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes. it was intimidating and confrontational, everything he thought he couldn’t handle now being pierced through his action so he could prove a point.

“i didn’t…” he shook his head. “i’m so sorry for ignoring you, i did it because i… i didn’t want to ruin our friendship… because i realize i won’t be able to fall out of love with you if we keep being friends, if we keep sleeping together.”

that took such a drastic turn. you never thought things would turn out this way for you, but here minho was, looking so deeply into your eyes and telling you he avoided you because he was scared his love would ruin your friendship. what a damned miracle!

“you… you coward, stupid, dumb, annoying–” you lightly punched him across the chest, feeling such staggering relief that you felt like crying. “you didn’t even give me a fighting chance, you just assumed i won’t like you back.”

“i know, i’m sorry.”

“you didn’t even try to drop hints, how was i suppose to let you know i love you back?”

“i know, baby girl, i’m sorry.”

the shock within him vanished quickly. he didn’t have the time to express his delight the way he would want to. you were standing before him in all your glory—beautiful, genuine, emotional.

and he wanted you with him in a way that was much closer than this.

nudging his nose against yours, minho let his lips meet yours at a slower pace this time. he was gentle with you, his arms holding at the side of your waist to pull you closer as you two kissed.

your hands flew to circle his neck as you stumbled out of your untied shoes and into his chest. minho let himself linger on your lips for a while before he started to trail his kisses down your jaw.

your neck was a territory he has marked many times before, and he never fails to make sure he adds something new every time his lips touch the skin. his teeth grazed past your neck before he met at the crook of it, and he obnoxiously sucked a dark bruise on your skin just so you would whimper in surprise.

sigh—how he missed that whimsical little sound. it was always so heavenly to hear, even when the action that caused it was more than devilish.

he marked his way back up to your lips when his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. he slipped his hand under it, his palm touching your bare skin for a brief second before he retreated them to clutch at the fabric of your shirt.

“can i take your shirt off, baby?” he mumbled into your mouth, his hand already raising slightly in anticipation.

you nodded, raising your arms as he complied and pulled your shirt up. you two broke apart to allow it to go through before leaning back toward each again. minho discarded your shirt off to the ground, his hands couldn’t wait to finally meet with your torso.

he kissed you fervently, his fingers holding the same amount of enthusiasm as they glided past the small curve of your waist. up and down, a faint squeeze to hold you in place, and then he pushed you forward so your back hit the door.

putting a hand between the back of your head and the hard surface, minho reluctantly pulled away from you, this time with no intention to dive back to your lips again because of all the other access to your body you’ve given him.

he breathed heavily, his voice growing raspy. “i’m gonna make it up to you.”

“i expect you to,” you replied boldly, causing him to raise his brow.

that was not something you would otherwise say in a situation like this. minho would have put you in your place if you ever attempted to give him an attitude. but he planned to let it slide this time, after all, he did hurt your feelings and he was at fault here.

“good.” was all he said before he started to move down your body.

his lips met at your collarbones, then to your chest where he skipped over your bra and went straight down to your stomach. he planted light kisses all over your skin, his tongue occasionally swiping across to wet up your body a little more.

he was kneeling before you by the time his hands met the waist of your pants, and he looked up with brows raising teasingly at you as his hands circled to the front. his fingers carefully popped open the button before they hooked through the belt loops and slowly pulled them down to your ankle.

your knees trembled at the touch of his hands, gliding up and down the back of your thighs and ever so slightly tugging you toward him. your breath hitched in your throat when he leaned up to kiss your clothed core, the sudden touch sending a surprise jolt across your mind.

foreign but familiar—it just came too sudden. you hadn’t realized this was actually happening until your panties were dragged past your thighs, the cold air a stinging proof that you’re with minho right now, and his lips were getting dangerously close to where you’ve been aching to have him these past weeks.

his hands curled around your legs, gripping your flesh firmly to keep them apart as he liked it. he moved up your inner-thighs. he continued to send tingly sensations all over your body until he stopped for a second, as if waiting for a dramatic effect, for a lingering thought to vanish before he latched his lips to your pussy.

his tongue darted out to lick between your folds, feeling the wetness gathering at your entrance upon the pleasuring stimulation. your moan went straight into ears, lighting up the delight inside him, and he continued to lather himself all over your cunt, wasting no time to poke his tongue in and out of you rhythmically.

you grabbed a messy chunk of his hair, pulling at it as you desperately tried to rust against his face, taunting him to shove his tongue deeper inside your heat. the position made your legs feel sore, and the mere attempt to grind down on him was just difficult, but you could take none of those into mind that when his mouth mercilessly sucked at your clit until it was red and swollen.

he was luxuriating himself in you—in your taste, in your voice, in your movement. your essence dripping past his tongue in a slurpy motion, your walls clenching at the digits he had graciously slipped into your heat, and ecstasy took your voice up into a milky whine when his teeth barely grazed past your clit as he sucked at you.

the heat in your chest expanded and engulfed itself all over your body. without yourself even realizing, your legs have moved apart to give minho more access to touch you even more.

“fuck, minho, please!” you exclaimed, your head hitting against the door.

ahh, you still know how to beg. perhaps not as profusely as he would have wanted you to but you were polite nonetheless. not to mention, your fingers scratching through his soft locks was enough indication that he was doing a splendid job. and he couldn’t wait to hear more of you, to feel more of you.

moving his face down to your heat, he drove his tongue inside you once again while his thumb went to press circles on your throbbing clit. you let out a choked moan, the sudden change of stimulation a very pleasant surprise, and he has your climax pinned at his mouth in no time.

gathering up your juices into his mouth, minho finally pulled away from you and stood up. he didn’t bother to wipe your essence off his lips, he just went straight for your mouth as he pressed his lips against yours. and you were in too big of a haze to distinguish the taste of yourself and his saliva, still trying to come down from the orgasm you’ve missed having from him.

minho brought his hand up to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb carefully as he contemplated his next move. perhaps he was putting a little pressure on himself to make sure this encounter would be perfect, because he thought it somehow needed to be after hurting your feelings.

but part of him also ached for a good fuck after so long. not just with anybody but with you. the scorching desire in his chest would ultimately fuel his instincts today, and maybe he’d not be able to keep his cool when he could finally be inside you.

just the thought of it made his insides burst. he should have never distanced himself from you. it was such a stupid idea.

“up,” minho commanded as he leaned down to tug at your thighs. and you listened to him, jumping up so he could catch you around his waist, your arms going around his neck as your lips moved past his face to run freely down his neck.

you were enjoying the feeling of his skin, kissing him all over in ways you wished you had been able to. your teeth bit down harder when you heard his tiny giggle at your almost amateur attempt on leaving him a hickey, a frown appearing on your face at the fact that he wasn’t taking you seriously.

he brought both of you over to the couch and he dropped you down on the surface, his body quickly hovering over yours as he got onto the couch as well. you looked up at him, your eyes smiling funnily in a way that made him pause his movement.

this was supposed to be a heated moment, yet somehow a single quirk of your lips was able to make his walls crumble.

“what’s so funny?” he asked, pinching your waist and causing you to squeal at the itch.

“nothing! it’s just…” you reached down for his hand and brought it up to your face, kissing his rough knuckles as you smiled at him. “i’ve missed you, that’s all.”

minho wavered, the glint behind his eyes dimming with a sense of being completely enamored. at the way your lips would smile, at the way your gaze held all of him, even just at how your smaller hand gripped his own. he was so infatuated, he could see no end to it.

“i’m sorry for suddenly leaving you,” he said, leaning down by dropping onto his forearm. your fingers still clung into his palm when he moved it up to your chin, his thumb tracing the tip of it before it moved up to your lips. “i promise i won’t do it again.”

his thumb traced your lower lip, a movement so sensual that you couldn’t think about much of anything else. just the mere fact that you got him back, and that he too has fallen in love with you, was enough to make you drop every ounce of your sanity.

you felt like you’ve got all you need already.

“kiss me, minho,” you pleaded quietly, opening your mouth more so his thumb would shift across your teeth.

he felt your legs move underneath his body, pressing together in a squirm. and he knew you wanted him between them, he knew you were waiting for him to pull them apart instead of doing it on your own. because everything needs to be done by his hands, that has always been the way you two worked, and you would obey him with ease.

flashes of your naked body came before his face. flashes he imagined when he was alone at night, trying miserably to replace you with a toy, or sometimes even himself. his lids dropped as he shifted to look down at your body, soft and awaiting his instructions, and he lightly growled to himself.

impatience suddenly took over him then, the previous moment gone in a blink of an eye. he leaned down to capture your lips, his hands going to your knees to spread them apart so he could place himself right in the middle.

you complied with him, kissing him back and tugging at his shirt as a signal that you wanted it off his body. minho huffed through his nose, slightly annoyed that he has to break away from you but he quickly yanked the collar of the shirt and pulled it over his head.

the flex of his arms was visible as he did so, and your eyes widened shyly without looking away. god, you’ve always loved the way he was built—just muscular enough to ogle at and not too much that they become uncomfortably distracting.

having second thoughts after seeing his toned chest, you decided to sit up from your spot and pushed your hands against him. minho frowned at you, his voice silent but his head-tilt asking a thousand questions. he was going to kiss you, why have you stopped him!

you grinned as you pushed him back, using your body weight to make him fall to the other side of the couch until he was under you this time. you laid on top of him, your small frame trapped between his legs as your head right at the crook of his neck.

minho was about to verbally ask you for your intention, but his eyes rolled up into a close when you kissed his neck. your hands roamed across his chest, your nails dragging ghostly against his skin in an unrecognized pattern as you peppered your kisses and kitten licks all over him.

he sighed in content, feeling your lips on every inch of his body, hot and loving. and he loved being treated this way, like he was being worshipped, like he was a god and you some mere peasant who had to rely on him for a living.

“(name),” he said, his voice sharp as he opened his eyes.

you perked up at him from the waist of his pants, your hands teasingly located near the middle. they had been scattered all over his abdomen, touch here and rubbing there, but never once did they meet at the middle where the obvious bulge of his pants was.

looking at his unsatisfied expression, you could only feel a sense of amusement as you pouted. your lashes fluttered up at him as you scooted back a little for better access. your smile was unfading when you leaned the lower side of your cheek right on top of his clothed member.

“what?” you asked, your smile widening at the hiss he let out.

“stop teasing me,” he said.

“hmm…” you pursed your lips, your finger dragging past his thigh to your face, then you palmed down on the shape of his member. “but it’s so fun.”

for someone with a waterfall dripping past your lips, you sure could find some time to be bratty like this.

rolling his eyes, his tongue poked at his inner-cheek as he turned away for a brief moment. when he looked at you again, his gaze was less hooded than it was amused. but it wasn’t your kind of amused. it wasn’t playful but degrading, the glimmer of it making you shiver.

“you want to say that again, baby?” he asked, his hand moving down to your head. he gently ran his fingers through your hair before he tugged at your scalp, his action light but not without harshness in it.

you whimpered under your breath, your brows furrowing helplessly as your head tilted to the side. “no.”

“good girl.” he released your hair then, gesturing toward himself. he nodded at you, smirking, “keep going.”

you didn’t mess around this time. your hand reached to the rubber waistband and easily pulled his sweats down to his thighs. you scooted your body up, your mouth salivating at the mere sight of his clothed member. you quickly tugged down his boxers, letting his cock spring out before you carefully grabbed its base.

minho sucked in a deep breath at your touch, your small hand covering around the base of his shaft. he closed his eyes with a blissful sigh when your lips finally touched his tip, giving him a little kiss before pressing them against him to dart your tongue over his slit.

licking past his red tip, you trailed your tongue over his shaft once before you went back up to his tip. then you finally took him in your mouth, your head bobbing up and down at regular speed as your hand rubbed the uncovered area.

minho groaned, his hand quickly flying down to your head. he let it lay there, only wanting something for him to hold onto as you sucked him off. great pleasure released from his abdomen, spreading all across his body as you hollowed your cheeks and licked him up as your head moved.

he opened his eyes to look down at you. for a second, you were focused on keeping him in your mouth, but you seemed to have felt his eyes on you so you glanced up at him.

he cursed at your wide-eyed, innocent—well, as innocent as you could look with his dick in your mouth, at least—expression then. his chest doing a flip as you slowly dragged your lips up to his tip to add stimulation to it, the smooching sounds you let out deafening to his ears.

there was something about your facade. it was the way he knew you were just putting up a naive front to rile him up, looking as pure as possible as your lips printed a smile on the top of his shaft, your tongue still poking out to lick him irregularly as if you get to be in control here.

(and, yes, to a certain level you do have control. to a maximum level, you have his utmost attention and all of his heart.)

holding onto the base of his cock, you tilted your head to the side and squinted your eyes mischievously at him. dragging the side of his tip against your cheek slowly, you let out a lewd hum, something like a relieved moan but it didn’t lack a tinge of questioning noise in it, and you watched him as if waiting for his patience to crack, waiting for his tough walls to fall beneath your feet.

he was falling. his face didn’t much show it, and either did his muscles tense under your body weight. but minho was completely surrendered to you; how could he not? you’re such a pretty thing, your warm mouth feeling heavenly as they moved up and down his shaft in an agonizingly slow pace.

his breathing was elevated now, he could feel his chest suffocating with deep arousal, and he wanted nothing more to have your walls wrapped around him now. forget your lips, he needed the tightness around him.

“okay, no,” minho spoke after a moment of thought. he attempted to sit up, his hands moving out to grab at your elbows. “you, get up, now.”

you listened to him, sitting up from your spot while he pulled at your arm. you followed his lead, letting him bring you onto his lap where you heat met with his hardened member. The confusion that once lingered in your head immediately faded away when you felt his girth snug between your folds, a whimper leaving your lips excitedly as you grind down on his member, wanting more friction out of a mere touch.

minho huffed, a tingly sensation fixated at his abdomen. his movements were beginning to get hasty but he has a general direction of what he wanted to do. he wanted you, that was all he knew. and with you sitting prettily on top of him, his mind knew exactly what he had to do despite the pitter-pattering of his heart.

although clumsy, he was precise when he gabbed you by your waist and hoisted you up with your help. he moved his hand down to hold up his dick, angling it right at your entrance before he glanced up at you through his tousled hair.

his eyes were striking, dazzling you as he waited for permission to handle you. you weren’t able to say much, a knot present at the back of your throat that could only be released when you could finally feel full again, full of him. so instead of talking, you brought your hands to your sides where his laid, and you lightly spread your knees further apart to drop onto his cock.

minho moaned lowly, feeling the warmth of your entrance as his tip got lathered up with your essence. he took that as a green light, and with a tightened grip on your skin, he guided you to sink on his length by pushing your body lower and lower until you were sat with him stuck within your walls.

your eyes shut when you felt his stretch, opening you up so deliciously that you needed a moment to breathe. you took all of him in you, his length a pleasantly erotic sensation inside your cunt that even a small scratch of friction could get your head all fuzzed up in a dream.

you felt full, oh so very full, in the most delightful way possible. you felt like smiling when you adoringly looked at him, because you loved him so and you didn’t think you could get this back again. your walls unconsciously clenched around him when you felt like shifting your position a little, and the little breathy sounds he let out a kind of music you adored.

he stared back at you after the sudden commotion and his heart melted. your faint smile was an undeserved treasure you somehow decided to grant him on a daily, and the fact that you always made him feel so snug and good, both chastely and sexually, was nothing short of a miracle.

his hand slipped from your waist to lace through yours, holding you softly as lust blossomed in his eyes.

it has always been the two of you who could make each other feel this way. the thrill of first love, the nostalgia of being intimate, the fear of losing one another—no wonder you two fell in love, it was a match made in heaven.

he brought you down to kiss him, and your arms instinctively flew around his neck. you allowed him a second of solace before pulling away just enough to speak, your voice small with praise. “fuck, you feel so good.”

he laughed, biting at your jaw where his face got draped over by the falling of your hair. “good, but i’m about to feel even better,” he whispered before reattaching his lips to yours. between the tangled lips, you could hear a needy whine sounding from the back of his threat, and you giggled into his mouth. he wanted you to move.

you carefully brought yourself up, your walls scraping past his cock in the process and catching up a burn. then, slowly but still at a non-torturous pace, you lowered yourself back down on him. you kept up with the speed, going up and down on his lap and moaning with every new stretch of your walls.

minho’s hands slipped from yours to caress all over your body, touching you gingerly as if you were his pretty porcelain doll. when his hands met your chest, he gave a small frown at the bra that was still attached to your body, and he quickly unhooked it to expose you completely.

your thighs stuttered when you felt him clamp his palm over your breast, the sudden jolt of pleasure hitting your head. his hands moved to cup your side, his thumbs reaching to press against your nipples and twirling circles with it. then he leaned forward to take your perky bud into his mouth after kissing around the bouncy area, licking your milky smooth skin before his tongue swiped across your nipple.

he kissed across your chest, his lips unable to remove from your skin as you relentlessly moved up and down on him. the plethora of pleasure, the immeasurable amount of enjoyment manifesting into this electrifying sensation all across your veins. it was all from the way minho felt so good inside you, and the passionate touch of his mouth on your everywhere.

“ahh–min–” you hugged him close with a sudden scream, only able to utter his name halfway. the jolt had knocked the air out of your lungs when his cock brushed against your sweet spot, making your knees buckle weakly and your movement halting to a messy rhythm.

minho raised a brow, feeling playful upon seeing your drastic reaction. he pulled away from your face, his eyes searching for your face. “hmm? min–what?”

you furrowed your brows then, a blush escaping to your cheeks at his seductive voice. as you struggled to keep up with the thrusts, you pursed your lips together and flashed minho a soft grimace before you squeezed your eyes shut again at the sensation. you didn’t plan on finishing your cut off sentence and you just wanted to keep hitting the sweet spot over and over again, because god, it made you feel so, so good.

but minho wanted otherwise. unfortunately, he has the upper hand here. he wasn’t the one who’s been moving rigorously the past minutes, he still got lots of stamina stored up for him to hold you in place. you whined when he did, his hands pushing down on your hips to prevent you from sliding up his dick.

you looked at him, your eyes wide as sweat glistened on your forehead, sticking the hair to your pretty skin. the arousal was dripping inside you, aching to be moved around, longing to be penetrated.

hoping to gain an ounce of sympathy, you pouted with a slump of your shoulders and pleaded, “minho, please.”

“hmm,” he squinted his eyes, lightly snapping his hips deeper into you. “please…? please what, baby.”

you clenched your fists, feeling the annoying pain of his slow, slow thrusts. part of you wanted to see how long he could keep up with this, this burningly slow pace. but hellish ache at your pussy overshadowed your tendency to be bratty and childish. all you wanted was to feel the pleasure again, so you begged as he wanted you to.

“please fuck me, minho,” you asked, desperation pumping out of your mouth like gold, “please fuck me–your cock feels good, i–i want more!”

minho laughed lowly, the moany sound hiding under the edge of his voice when he saw how you struggled to speak. the heat on your cheeks adding to the overall flair of his sight, your bare appearance the greatest art he’s ever laid his eyes on. and your words made him soar off the moon, you needy little thing! you’d break yourself with embarrassment to keep feeling the euphoric feeling only he could make you feel, wouldn’t you?

how pathetically adorable. maybe he should help you out a little, the moment a silent fulfillment to his own desire to pound himself quicker into you.

he gripped your hips tighter by digging his nails into your skin and he helped you up on his length. he waited for a moment before he forced your fragile body down on his cock, earning a chocked strangled whimper from you. he continued in a regular rhythm. occasionally, he would push his hips up to meet with your pussy, adding to the strength of the pound and making your moan louder with the strike.

you let loose of your muscles when you felt that you’ve lost the control, and you pressed yourself closer to him in hopes to regain the previous position. the magnified gratification came unknowingly like a ghost, his dick finally able to find your g-spot again, and this time stayed haunting you with every slick thrust.

as your pussy started to salivate more with each snap of your hips, the squelching noise was also becoming harder to ignore. it mixed in with your heavy breaths, the sound of sex reverberating around you both, and you could feel your orgasm approaching inch by inch, threatening your release.

minho was watching you carefully, his eyes fixated on your face as he observed every little movement. your jaw hung open at the constant moaning, your eyes barely able to open clearly because of the overwhelming sensation—everything about you made him feel confident, possibly even narcissistic at some point.

but he really enjoyed the fact that you succumb to him so easily, and you shamelessly showed it through your body without even knowing.

he wondered if you knew you were clenching incredibly tightly around his cock. it didn’t seem to be a conscious action, considering how you could barely string a coherent sentence together. judging by that, though, minho knew your climax was approaching close, and he planned to get you to it with as much care as possible.

pulling you off him suddenly, he sat up quickly and pushed you on your back. he hovered over your body, only laying on top of you after he re-inserted himself inside of you. your legs went around his hips, bringing him closer by the back while he leaned his head down to briefly kiss your neck.

“hey,” he smiled, his hand caressing through your hair as he looked down at you with soft eyes.

you raised your brows at him, silent breathes huffing in and out of your nose as he started to thrust into you again. you touched his face, squeezing his cheeks with a smile. “what?”

minho was right. he does feel closer to you like this.

his eyes shifted down to your lips and back up into your eyes. affection engulfed him quickly, it does every time he stares into your eyes. he gets reminded of the way he fell in love with you again and again whenever he does.

and he never minded the constant reminder. he enjoyed the process. it was a lot of emotional talks, playful banter, and a lot of good sex. all of which he felt like he could have with you for the rest of his life, he wanted to have with you for the remaining of his stupid lifetime.

he unconsciously pounded deeper into you then, his mind wanting you to feel all of him to the rawest sense. you moaned at the sudden change of force but you welcomed it by opening your legs a little more for him.

your toes were curling after a few more hard thrusts, your stomach churning impossibly at the way his cock felt sliding in and out of you. when you felt the tightening feeling in your chest, you looked up at minho and grabbed his hand, huffing out hastily, “min–minho, i’m close.”

“i know,” he hummed loving at you, picking up his pace to bring you over the edge.

you arched your back at the feeling, a silent scream leaving your mouth. he pinned your hands to the side of your head, his hands hugging your small ones, and when your head moved back down to face him, he wasted no time to put his lips on yours again.

god, it was like he literally cannot keep himself off you.

your mind was getting foggy. you weren’t sure whether it was from the passionately way he kissed or from the burn between your legs, but you felt like you couldn’t quite process anything clearly anymore. well, anything except for one thing.

when minho pulled away, he kept himself close. his lips were grazing against yours but he wasn’t close enough to kiss you. and you could feel his lips move against yours ghostly when he whispered, “i love you.”

you processed that one. the words hit you really strongly too, your heart practically sunk up to your throat at them. you wanted to say it back, you planned to say it back, but you only sucked in a strong breath when minho rammed against the sweet spot in you. your eyes rolled back at the unprecedented attack and your back lifted off the couch once again.

“oh fuck–minho, please, please–ahh!”

he continued with a few more harsh thrusts before you released around his cock with a whine, your hands tightening around his at the pleasure. he had his head buried at the crook of your neck, his hips continued to move as he drowned himself in the scent of your body. he was chasing his own high now, his cock twitching inside your warm hold as he pounded into you.

your walls slurped him up, tightening around him to add stimulation. and when he felt like he was about to come undone, he quickly pulled out of you and sat up. his hand moved to his cock, quickly pumping along his length as his eyes trained on your sweaty, delicate body.

you looked at him before slowly sitting up, you went on all fours and crawled closer to him before positioning your face before his cock. minho shakily breathed out a sigh when you nudged your face against his tip, then you stopped at your opened mouth, waiting for him to pour himself over your tongue.

“ugh, you’re gonna swallow me, baby girl?” he hissed out, and he bit his lower lip when you nodded, widening your eyes naively at him.

he groaned, his abdomen tightening at the mere sight of you, hot cum sprouting out of his slit and landing on your stuck-out tongue. you held your breath, feeling the liquid dripping past your tongue before taking it back into your mouth and rolling it around. when you looked back up at minho, you grinned a little and stuck your tongue out at him.

his lips twitted at the sticky substance lingered on the tip, little lines stretching from your lips to your tongue. fuck, you filthy thing! how dare you make his heart all disheveled and gone.

“fuck, you’re so hot,” he muttered under his breath as you sat back on your heels.

you laughed, wiping your mouth and swallowing the last of him. “thank you, you’re not so bad yourself.”

he rolled his eyes then, the corner of his lips turning up into a graceful smile. he tackled you to the couch then, your hot body pressed against yours, but the atmosphere was more romantically chaste than sexual this time. you two were just two lovers naked in each others’ arms, putting complete and utter faith in each other that you would be held safe.

you two went quiet, basking in the silence. but you could hear him, his heart and his skin, pumping and brushing along yours.

would you have thought of this months ago when you first met minho? no. you have dreamt of it, but you never thought it could be true. and the dream was shattered when he suddenly decided to ghost you weeks ago.

but it didn’t matter now. you were here with him, he was holding you tightly like it was the only thing he knew to do.

“i meant to say it back,” you broke the silence first, “i love you too.”

despite knowing the answer already, minho still breathed out a sigh of relief anyway. he pressed a kiss to your head, his eyes closing calmly as he nodded. “i know.”

you smiled. minho has been a lot of things—a nice classmate, a good friend, and a few quick fucks. but you never indulged in the idea of you and him together. the idea that minho could be you and him together, that he could be a partner, a boyfriend.

the idea that minho could be an ‘us.’

#stayhavennet #inkidz #stray kids smut #skz smut #minho smut #stray kids dark hours #skz dark hours #i came to a realization that i never know what to put in the description tag so if anyone has any suggestions #or if there are anything i am supposed to put down please do tell me ;;;

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

perennial;tom holland|seven.

chapter seven: yellow roses

↳ flower meaning: jealousy, infidelity, apology, broken heart, intense emotion, dying love, extreme betrayal

Pick one.

chapter summary: dried flowers on walls and ‘dirty’ dancing

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: angsty? just a bit, fluffy, mentions of sex

word count: 8.1k

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER:

masterlist & profiles six: in which y/n wakes up and Tom doesn’t.

previous chapter next chapter perennial masterlist.

perfidy ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

Tags aren’t working so yeah. Sorry for posting late. I am too busy with school, and my job and life and yeah so I hope you enjoy it.

Tom woke up alone. He thought he wouldn’t, for the first time in months he thought he’d finally wake up by her side, kiss her cheek, pull her close to him and nuzzle into her hair as he asked for five more minutes of sleep. He hadn’t, and that had bothered him, just a little.

No, it had bothered him a lot. To wake up alone when you expect not to, hurts. So damn much. Because he didn’t know the reason for it now.

Of course, she probably hadn’t run away, he thought. Maybe she’d woken up early to get her morning tea, or maybe she was making breakfast or whatever y/n did now. Did he still know her? Did he know her routine?

He knew she had changed. He had expected her to, of course. He had, too. In a good way. Well that was what he thought or liked to believe apparently.

He wondered why she had never called, not once. He thought about doing it, several times. Had it ever crossed her mind? To call him? Because it had crossed his mind, every day.

Of course, his friends had stopped him from doing it, and Harry, Harry had stopped him from doing it.

“I want to call her,” Tom had stated once.

“Don’t, she did this to give you some freedom, so you could heal.”

Freedom that turned into severe loneliness. Tom had never really experienced it, and though he was not alone, he had felt lonely. Sometimes he couldn’t quite understand why, it’s not like before they dated they were that close.

Or were they? And had Tom never truly acknowledged how important to each other they were? Because of course he knew she was important but he hadn’t realized how much she had influenced his life.

For better or for worse, that is. Not always the brightest side. But… she was there. And for those months, she disappeared. And it wasn’t like when she had disappeared after that club night. At that time, Tom had tried to reach out, subtly.

Had she felt this way? This heart-clenching way? Tom didn’t understand why he had felt so lonely. How they’d gone out to bars, and the music didn’t cheer him up, how he had walked through the crowded streets but not a single person seemed to notice. How his friends would laugh but he couldn’t even get the joke.

He missed her. Because she’d always been there, one way or another.

And now she wasn’t there by his side to kiss him good morning, she wasn’t there to run her hands through his hair while she gave him a shy smile, and the sun was pooling her whole bed, and thought it was warm, Tom still felt cold and like a stranger in that bedroom. Bedroom that he hadn’t stopped to take a glance at.

He knew y/n was so dramatic and chaotic and always, always, always made everything for the aesthetic and for her big drama show. Her room was her set, he knew, the place where her secrets hid.

He wondered what had happened to Tim’s box, and it was nowhere to be found. There was no box in sight. The Polaroids weren’t the usual y/n Polaroids. She had some with James, and her parents. But most of them were from different places.

He could see some Polaroids from New York, even one from Rome but most of them were new. Most of them had flowers.

That was her latest theme, it seemed. Flowers. Flowers taped to her wall, flowers in her nightstand, near the small mirror. Flowers.

Which seemed so very like her, Tom thought. He saw her dried flowers and they seemed oddly familiar but he couldn’t quite figure out where from.

He continued scanning her room, it made him happy there was absolutely no trace of Timmy in that room. There was no sight of Tom, either, whatsoever.

Well, maybe there was. Because there were pictures of New York, of Rome. Not sight of him but it was subtle. Very subtle. He saw the vinyl he gave her about a year ago on her birthday. Which made him think. Just a year ago, Tim had planned the perfect party for y/n. A year ago, Tom thought he had lost his chance with y/n, for good. A year ago, Tim had been the one that made y/n: “The one that got away.” Of course, not now, but it seemed that Tim really had been y/n’s endgame. Of course, Tom didn’t believe that now. But he was still not fond of the fact that his… that y/n was sleeping next to that man, literally, since their rooms were just right by the other.

That pissed him off. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much if he was sure y/n loved him. But thinking about it just… bothered him.

Tom had felt so lonely. So lonely and he had needed her so badly. And waking up without her one more time hurt. But he knew she probably was out there, making breakfast, or working on something, maybe gushing to Emma what had happened.

He couldn’t think of why she hadn’t been there. That wasn’t really her thing, he knew, at least in New York she always waited until he woke up too. But he was probably overthinking. That was something Tom had learned while being apart. He had never really dealt with it, but he guessed that was what broken hearts do, they change you.

And he’d never dealt a heartbreak like that one before, not that harsh. Maybe that was why he felt lonely again in her bed.

This breakup had felt like it had been for good. He hadn’t told her about that, and they probably still had to talk about it, but Tom had really felt he had lost her forever. Because they were hurt, because they were apart, and because their life had taken different paths. Because everything was different. But then he had the night before as the sole proof they had both missed the other.

He sat up and rubbed his face. Not wanting to deal with it, trying to get that thought out of his mind. So impossibly stuck there. But he was there now, right? But there was a lot they had to talk about, and maybe sleeping together could have been a setback. Except, he really thought it wasn’t, because it wasn’t sex. Yes, of course, it was passionate and hot and Tom probably wanted to repeat it. But it was intimate and their connection was still there. He knew it wasn’t having sex for the sake of sex. Though both of them had been desperate for it, he knew it wasn’t about the sex. It was more than that, so desperate, longing to touch the other as if there was a magnet pulling them together, bodies glued to each other as hearts synchronized in a sole emotion, fast heartbeats combined with short breaths and the sound of their names over and over again. And then so calm, and quiet, and tender, heartbeats getting steadier,

Nobody said it would be easy, and Tom was well aware it wouldn’t be. Not for now because there were still secrets waiting to come out, and conversations waiting to be heard, and tears ready to be shed. He wished he could skip to the part where they were happy, if that part was ever to be reached. And though it wasn’t simple, it was something that he aspired.

Though it was crooked, and he didn’t want to go there again. Not repeat the same mistakes they’ve done before. And so far it looked that way, from enemies who had to apologize, and who barely talked to desperately trying to hook up. He didn’t want to repeat history.

They needed a new one, one that didn’t end in a heartbreak. Not their heartbreak, at least.

He tried to look up for his clothes, his shirt was nowhere in sight. Though he probably knew who was wearing it. He knew y/n had a thing for wearing his clothes. He didn’t mind, he possibly couldn’t mind.

He walked out of the room, shirtless as he sneaked out of y/n’s room, he didn’t see her right as he came out, so he walked to the kitchen, she wasn’t there, and not on the couch. Her apartment was small, so it rubbed the wrong idea on him. Had she left?

And then he saw her walk out of what Tom assumed was Emma’s room. Or so he hoped it was her room.

Emma locked the door right after y/n had walked out.

“Very mature, Emma, very mature,” y/n whispered, rolling her eyes.

“What do you know, y/n? You also did something stupid.” Emma yelled from the other side of the room.

“At least I accept it,” y/n yelled back.

Tom chuckled slightly and awkwardly as he saw her, standing there against the door, wearing his t-shirt just like he had expected her to.

Y/N finally turned around to see him, she blushed instantly.

“Oh, hi,” she said softly, a smile spreading on her face.

“Morning,” Tom answered walking over.

She seemed nervous, embarrassed as she shuffled her feet, watching him. “Did you sleep well?”

He had, for that matter. For the first time in months he’d finally slept peacefully. He had slept, for that matter. Not once had he woken up in the middle of the night to stare at the moon. So dramatic and melancholic but he couldn’t help it.

He wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her close to him. “Hm,” he smiled, glance going up from her eyes to her lips. “Thought I wouldn’t wake up alone for the first time in months.”

She avoided his gaze. “Sorry, Emma—made some noise and woke me up and—“

“And you did something stupid,” Tom pointed out. “I can only assume I am stupid in that equation.”

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself,” she smirked. “You’re stupid in every equation.”

He laughed, and then leaned over to kiss her cheek.

She smiled, as his lips continued to pepper her face with small and soft kisses.

“Tommy,” she whispered.

“Hm?” He travelled down to her neck.

“Stop,” she giggled.

He sighed as he stopped. “Hm, it’s only fair if you’re wearing my t-shirt.”

“I—It was the first thing I found.”

“In your room?” He pushed, laughing,

She blushed looking away. “Yes, all my clothes disappeared,” she stated, walking her fingers through his chest.

“How awfully convenient,” he smirked. She looked up at him and locked her eyes with his. As if both of them knew they had to talk and were avoiding it. Tom felt naked. And not for the fact that he was technically half naked and he was shivering each time her fingers brushed against him. He felt completely like his true self, he didn’t have to hide anything, but then again… they were alone. Even if Emma was on the other side of the door, they were alone.

“You’re doing it again,” y/n mumbled looking away.

Tom laughed with confusion. “What am I possibly doing?”

“Last night you gave me those same eyes and look where we ended up,” she pointed out.

He coughed, “Then with more reason I’m not stopping,” he smirked and finally pulled her close enough to kiss her. He felt her smile against the kiss. He pulled her and clumsily made his way back to y/n’s room, crashing against walls and furniture on their way.

Tom quickly closed the door and slammed her against the wall as he kissed his way down her neck

“Tom no wait—“she said.

“Hm, need a cold shower again?” He asked.

But she was pushing him away. “No, no, Tommy.”

He sighed, still pressing soft clumsy kisses behind her ear.

“Tom, no, really—We—“she sighed.

“What?” He asked, lips brushing against her jawline. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. “I was supposed to be angry at you,” she sounded disappointed at herself.

He finally pulled away. “Hm why?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” she whispered. It seemed like she was trying to get back into her senses, yet she still hadn’t let him go.

“I am,” Tom admitted. “But—what does that have to do with anything?”

She gulped. “Tom—we, we have to talk about it,” she sighed. “We can’t—“

“I know, we can’t keep avoiding it,” he bit his lip. “But maybe just— a few more minutes and we can talk about it on set,” he begged as he pushed her hair back.

“No,” she finally managed to get out of his grip. “No, no… no.”

“Fine, no then,” Tom watched her sit down on her bed.

“You shouldn’t be doing my script,” she stated, avoiding his gaze.

He rushed to sit down, taking her hands. “No, hey—But hey I want to, I really want to make something incredibly cool—“

“You don’t even direct,” she pointed out and watched him.

“I—Look, it’s my first time…. But Harry does, and I have vision and I am part of the story.” He took her hand.

“Tommy,” she whispered.

“Y/N.”

“And I know this kind of thinking brought us to our doom but I can’t—what if something bad happens?” She asked him. “you know Tom and y/n type of bad, our own particular way of screwing things up.”

“It won’t happen.”

“But if it does?” She questioned. “And you try to get back at me with the script?”

“I promise I won’t.”

“But you really have to promise it,” she pleaded.

“I promise y/n.”

She pulled her hand away from him and stood up, running her hands through her hair, stressed enough.

“No, you don’t understand Tom, this is my dream,”she sounded stressed. “this is the biggest dream I’ve ever had and I finally got a shot and I… I guess I forgot about it last night because I… Because…”she stared at him again. “I—Because I’m an idiot…. and I was blinded by the moment, but I never really—“she gulped.”I need you to understand this, you can fuck me up, if you hate me, like I don’t know, okay? But don’t fuck up my dreams, if this is your plan, if it-“

“No,” he stopped her. “Y/N—“

“No, no, listen to me,” she seemed stressed. “I don’t care if—You, whatever happened in the last few months,” she sounded hurt now. “Whatever happened or…”

The last few months? Tom was confused by that statement, whatever did she mean….

“Whatever happens… Just don’t fuck my script up, please. It’s my dream, and if you—“

“Y/N, I wouldn’t do that.”

It hurt that she still believed Tom was only a weapon designed to destroy her.

“No, I know, I know,” she cleared her throat. “I’m—sorry, I—It’s… we still have a lot going on.”

Tom was angry then. Was she the one supposed to be angry? Wasn’t he the one supposed to doubt her? Because he didn’t.

Not entirely. Only… he understood she did have some reason to be upset about the script. Though he wasn’t sure how to tell her that he stupidly thought it would be his way of making their paths cross again. He knew their breakup had been hard enough to deal with and adding being apart and going different ways wouldn’t help. So his stupid mind decided to make their ways cross. Though he thought he hadn’t had a chance for it, but—He found it so easily. And if he hadn’t called he was scared nobody else would. The project was risky and different and not—not something people would like to dive into. Less if she was a debut writer.

But Tom didn’t want to tell her that. That had he not offered to be a director, there was barely any possibility of having it. He wouldn’t ruin it, no. Less now that he had actually had the chance to read the wonderful script she’d written.

He’d judged it. Yes, the first pages were harsh to him but then—Then he realized it, the character growth, the development and the story and how, like y/n had said in her letter, they were supposed to fall in love.

Though at times one may think that y/n—Valerie was supposed to end up with someone else, she couldn’t. It was Valerie and William. Tom and y/n.

“We’re not ready, Tom,” she whispered again. “And I know, how dare me to set back when I was the one to ask you to stay and the one to…” She cleared her throat.”To walk in the shower with you.”

“Yeah, but it’s… It doesn’t mean we have to either take a step forward or backwards,” Tom said. “I don’t think-”

“I know, I’m not saying not to acknowledge it, I mean,” she took a deep breath. “I mean what happened last night is just like our confirmation that yes, we still have… Well I still have feelings for you.”

“And I have feelings for you.”

“But,” she gulped. “I don’t think this whole… ‘Let’s make out and forget about it’ thing will work,” she pointed out. “We—look, I—Although I may be… although I am acting this way there’s a lot of things we need to talk about.”

“I know.”

“But…”

Tom frowned. “But?”

“Whatever happens while we are working on anything related to Dos a Dos we won’t give in okay? Not for good or bad,” she stated.

“Alright.”

“I’m talking about being strictly professional,” she continued.

“Okay.”

“No fighting,” she sounded cold.

“I know.”

“And also,” she coughed. “No flirting.”

Tom chuckled. “Hm that’s gonna be hard.”

She sighed. “So where are we going to go from this?”

Tom stayed quiet. It was harder than he thought it would be. He hadn’t healed, not completely. Maybe he hadn’t realized it until then, how he had avoided his pain just to be with her, and now that they were standing on that point, he didn’t know where to go. Why was this so incredibly complicated?

He looked around the room and stared at the flowers taped to her wall again, too familiar but he still didn’t get where from. Maybe the flowers only reminded him of y/n.

“Where do we want to go from this?” Tom asked.

“I don’t know,” she gulped. “And do we want to go together?”

Tom looked at her again. “I… well, I… I hope? Or… don’t you want it?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah it’s just.”

He feared whatever her next sentence would be.

“It sounds,” she looked down. “It sounds like a whim but… And it sounds illogical, doesn’t it? You and I, how after everything we’re still willing to try it. We’re too stupid, and…” She chuckled dryly. “And you know, I’m crazy, and you’re… Too stubborn,” she gulped. “And I don’t know if I want it, you know? For us to fall down another time, and let our pride and our immaturity win over us again, you know? I don’t think either of us can afford another heartbreak.”

Tom knew she was right.

“It seems like we are sentenced to fail,” she sighed. “But then again I know that if we don’t try it, I won’t be able to…” She squinted and chuckled. “Dunno, but I know that if I dared to ask you, neither of us would be able to move on, right?”

“I know I wouldn’t.”

“And I know I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, and no cold showers would help to cool us down,” she conceited, making Tom chuckle, “and though it might be a mistake, it might be the best mistake I am willing to make.”

Tom smiled, slightly and sadly. “Yeah,” he gulped. “And if we don’t I’ll be glued to the phone waiting for your call or trying to stop myself from calling you, but end up doing it anyway.”

“That’s our problem, we’re always waiting for each other to make the first step and then we do take it, we both get scared,” she explained. “And though it makes no sense, and I really wished we both could either say yes or no, we both know it’s not simple.”

“No,” He gulped. “But maybe it does have some logic to it.”

“Hm?”

“You and I, I mean,” he gulped. “I mean, no matter how hard we try, I’m always drawn back to you, and no matter how hard we’ve… I mean you always end up haunting my dreams.”

“Haunting.”

“Like a ghost,” he chuckled. “And though it makes no sense, I still feel that whole stupid and cliché thing, my heart beats the same way as yours.”

“You’re so cheesy,” she blushed.

He leaned to kiss her cheek. “I know, it’s disgusting.”

She laughed. “Yes, you’re only giving me reasons to bully you.”

“But I actually,” he smirked. “Those aren’t my words. I must admit I plagiarized them.”

Y/N blinked watching him. “What?”

“Well, not really, but I did,” he chuckled. “But I do remember a certain Valerie saying it, ‘my heart beats to the same rhythm as Will and maybe that’s why I can’t stay away from him’”

Y/N instantly blushed. “Yeah, uh,” she coughed. “Yeah...Did she say that? Did-” She cleared her throat.

“Oh, yes she did, she very much did and I’m not cutting that off the script,” he teased. “It’s-”

“No,” she shook her head. “I--no”

“Why are you embarrassed?”

She chuckled. “Because it’s too cheesy.”

“Please, y/n, we’ve all known you’re cheesy, I mean the whole boxes things, the songs, the magical moments, I mean the polaroids, please y/n all you is cheesy but with class and aesthetic, just look around your room, that vinyl over there… the flowers hanging on your wall which-” Tom stopped. He realized it. Where he knew the dried flowers from. He knew exactly why they were so familiar. Tim’s instagram. He remembered the picture and the quote: ‘Morning Bloom’. He gulped.

“Yeah, I know, I’m cheesy,” Y/N chuckled.

But Tom barely heard her, he felt it. And… It could mean nothing. It could be nothing, of course. Tim loved photography and aesthetics and… It didn’t have to mean anything. It couldn’t, could it? But why had he been in her room? Was there a reason? He hated this. He felt a stab through his heart. It had to mean nothing. Right? He guessed he had to see how y/n reacted about it. It could be an old picture. But… it seemed to be the same flowers, but maybe y/n liked those and always changed them.

He had to ask about it, he knew but not right now. He didn’t want to have that answer just yet. But he needed the answer, and he wouldn’t be able to continue but of course, ruining that moment and pull a ‘Tom’ and walk out angrily and not explain anything to her would be stupid. He wasn’t going to make the same mistakes. But god, he wanted to. Fucking Tim. Of course now he thought the picture was probably a way to shove it on Tom’s face. But…

“Tom?” She asked again, getting him out of his trance.

He blinked. “Huh? Yeah.. Yeah.” He gulped. “What?”

“I… asked if you were hungry?”

“Ah, yeah, right. Yeah.”

But he wasn’t, not after that sudden realization.

Emma, two rooms away from there, felt stupid. The night before had been so blurry. And she hadn’t really realized how much seeing Harry hurt her. Y/N had tried to understand the situation. How did you get to sleep with Josh?

Emma didn’t know, for that matter. How and what had led to that? Completely clueless. Of course Josh was attractive and he hadn’t hesitated on throwing his shot, especially because he’d probably been oblivious to the obvious tension Emma felt around Harry. Maybe Josh had chosen to ignore it. He had pointed out the tension between Tom and y/n, though.

“This is weird, but do you guys know each other?” Josh had asked. “Or did y/n/n and Tom know each other?”

“What gave it away?” Harry had laughed.

“Oh, you know, the fact they went from undressing each other with a glance and then trying not to cry every time they had any eye contact.”

But what about Harry and Emma?

One of Emma’s strengths was hiding her real feelings. She was so good at avoiding it. Probably because she wanted everyone to believe she was a tough bitch who had her life in control. Even if she was tearing apart.

Like she was the night before. That nerve wrecking heartache she was feeling all night each time she managed to look at Harry. She tried not to. Not a single word directed to him.

Emma was hurt.

Sometimes it bothered her that nobody could see how much she was drowning, as if she was seen just as a casualty from Tom and y/n. Everybody liked to forget she was hurting too. Not y/n, though. Y/N tried to get her to talk, and to talk about her feelings, and to mourn about it. She didn’t.

She couldn’t.

Only person she had been able to open up completely to was Harry, and we know how that ended. Emma was struggling because she really wished she could be like y/n, so forgiving or so stupid. Stupid enough to sleep with Tom and forget her sorrow, that is.

But Harry and her worked differently. Harry and her were talkers. Tom and y/n, according to y/n, barely liked to talk. Or that’s what y/n had said, in their short relationship, apparently, they were more...physical. And it seemed they still were.

Emma was nobody to tell y/n what she couldn’t or could do. And Emma had known that y/n would end up sleeping with Tom the moment she saw them hold hands during the movies.

Emma knew Tom was more about actions, for god’s sake no matter how stupid he was, he at least had already tried to talk to y/n, he had searched for her and he had, stupidly, of course, invited himself to the movies with them. Tom wasn’t playing. Maybe that’s why y/n was so dumbly smitten with him. If he wanted, he fought for it. The man didn’t think twice before doing something and sometimes it got him in trouble, but sometimes it didn’t, and well, it led him somewhere. At least he’d gotten laid.

Emma was very much like Tom. And she knew y/n was very much like Harry, in a way. Emma, too, liked to get what she wanted. But the truth is, she didn’t know what she wanted. Of course, last night she’d finally gotten laid. Though she had been all the time claiming she would, she had never slept with anyone before. She’d always end up thinking about Harry.

She didn’t know where she got it from, the guts to sleep with somebody else. Maybe it was her way of telling Harry that he’d have to fight for it, that hiding in the shadows and being shy wouldn’t get him anywhere. He needed to fight back for her.

That’s what led her to sleep with Josh, she guessed. She had tried to see how far she could get flirting with Josh, trying to make Harry jealous until he exploded or did something. Emma wanted Harry to fight for her.

He hadn’t.

He had let Josh flirt with her and Emma flirt with him. Why was this so damn hard? Did he not want to fight for her?

That was the single poisonous thought that had driven Emma to sleep with Josh. She hadn’t told that to y/n, of course.

“I just needed to, y/n.”

That was half-true. She did need to. But of course, she didn’t want to explain that to y/n. Not really. Especially because Emma knew that y/n was to Harry what Emma was to Tim. So if y/n had reserved herself a little from telling her about Tim, then Emma would reserve herself from telling her about Harry.

Besides y/n’s choice to sleep with Tom was a thousand times more stupid than Emma’s choice. Emma had absolutely no feelings for this other guy and she was sure Josh didn’t feel anything either. It had just been one drunken one night stand. Nothing important. It didn’t matter.

But she guessed y/n had some points to herself to brag about. Y/N didn’t regret her night.

Emma had gone to take a quick shower, y/n had advised her to so Tom wouldn’t suspect a thing, and Emma would have to complain about them being loud, or whatever.

Emma, all dressed up and cleaned and trying to put on some makeup to hide the fact she hadn’t slept at all, walked out with a towel wrapped on her head. She heard y/n’s laugh coming from the kitchen.

She walked closer… and Emma saw it. The way they looked at each other, so, so, so in love and she finally understood y/n. Yes, she still thought she was an idiot but she understood it, and Emma was thankful Tim hadn’t been around to see it.

The way they were staring at each other as if they were having their very last breath and didn’t mind at all, like telling the other: you’re worth it, you’re worth my last sunshine. It was so ridiculously romantic, Emma wouldn’t normally be a fan of that, but she felt butterflies just from watching them. Like when you’re watching a movie and see the lead romance and long for it.

The way their laugh emerged into one and how they were trying to touch each other, not with lust but with curiosity. Not like one of those clingy couples you see on the street that are always glued to each other, no, Emma was even jealous of what they were having, hands so desperately trying to connect with each other. Magnetized skins. Not a single kiss, but it felt wrong watching them, they weren’t even touching in any compromising way. But they felt so intimate.

Emma realized it then, why y/n was so confused. Because Emma remembered how Tim looked at y/n, too. What did that girl have that had those two idiotic men so mermerized with her?

She didn’t blame y/n, no, she couldn’t. And Emma wished she’d seen the way Y/N looked at Tom before the engagement party incident. Then she wouldn’t have doubted her. Because the way y/n was beaming and shining and glowing near Tom was incredible. She wouldn’t have doubted y/n.

She’d doubted Harry, of course. That was the problem. Because why wouldn’t she doubt him? Even more now that she saw the way Tom was blown away by y/n. And how Tim was, too.

But when she saw Tom and y/n, she was reminded of her own love story, maybe the butterflies were caused because she recalled Harry, and staring into his eyes and smiling for no damn reason. Loving him for the sake of loving him. Giggling and having intimacy without even having to touch the other.

It mirrored Emma and Harry, just as they had become engaged. Making breakfast together, music playing in the background, Harry placing a sweet kiss to her cheek, her feeling like she was in heaven.

And she saw it now, the way y/n probably was in Cloud 9 as Tom said something to make her smile.

It wasn’t the first time she’d seen her smile that way. Because she’d also seen y/n with Timmy, their chemistry was undeniable. It made no sense how she was seeing her now with Tom when just a few days before she’d seen her laughing with Tim, a loud laugh and a wide smile on her face, after he had said the most stupid comment, yet y/n was almost on the floor, both of them making the same stupid jokes to bother Emma. Timmy and y/n were basically the same person, it was even pathetic how stupidly alike they were. Everybody had said it, for a reason, Emma knew how perfect they were for each other.

Emma had seen how Timmy was trying to flirt with y/n, he wasn’t subtle, and y/n did answer to his flirting from time to time.

But Emma guessed that’s not really how love works, or was it?

Emma could quite put her kind around y/n, but she understood why she didn’t let go off Tim either.

But Emma also knew that to get that smile from y/n, Timmy had had to fight. While Tom only had to show up, so simply.

Emma understood it, she wouldn’t let go off someone who made her feel...alive. Though that seemed stupid and cliché. But she’d seen a change just in two days y/n had… changed and felt. Y/N had cried, and yelled and now laughed.

Maybe Emma wanted that, too. She knew she could feel with Harry. But… Harry probably had given up on her. Maybe Emma had to be like Tom, and make sure Harry felt something, too.

“Morning, idiots,” Emma said before taking off the towel. “Thanks for not letting people sleep last night.”

Tom jumped and quickly turned to see Emma. “Oh-- Hi, uh, I’m sorry.”

Y/N only side-eyed her.

Emma laughed. “So, you guys are a thing now?” She asked, and judging by both their reactions, she shouldn’t have. Both of them had only widened their eyes and panicked. “You know what, don’t answer that, but next time get… a hotel room or whatever.”

Tom and y/n blushed, y/n even coughed.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Tom pointed out. “Sorry.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You guys were busy.”

Tom blushed harder. “I’m… really sorry.”

“No, don’t be, as long as I get some breakfast which--” Emma frowned. “Pancakes, huh, y/n?”

Y/N looked up. “Yeah, what about it?”

“You guys are totally cliché,” Emma rolled her eyes.

Tom laughed. “It was my idea, sorry,” he shrugged.

“And you didn’t complain, y/n?” Emma frowned.

Y/N chuckled. “Why would I?”

“Why would she? It’s her favorite food,” Tom chuckled.

Emma smiled, slightly. Y/N was a mystery to her.

“So, did you guys get any inspiration for the movie?” Emma asked.

Y/N and Tom both watched her with surprise.

“From Dirty Dancing, idiots,” Emma rolled her eyes. “You both really-”

Tom chuckled. “Yeah,” he coughed. “I did, I did… Um, I need some 80’s songs, we, I’ve been thinking about it, the whole setlist for the dance and-”

“That’s what you’ve been thinking about?” y/n frowned, laughing just slightly. “That?”

Tom chuckled, and nudged her lightly.

“Oh, please, but you guys shouldn’t have any trouble with that,” Emma commented. “Y/N here probably knows more about the 80’s than Madonna or George Michael themselves.”

y/n chuckled nodding. “That might be true.”

“Might be?” Tom rolled his eyes. “You know everything about the 80’s.”

Emma grinned. “Besides, I know you, uh, okay, I might give you some ideas…” Emma bit her lip. “God, I know no 80’s songs, I know 70’s, that’s my thing, so if you guys ever need some 70’s advice, that’s my thing, but.. 80’s…” She gulped. “Uh, dunno, that catchy song um.. ‘I think We’re alone now’...”

Both Tom and y/n once again were awkward. Could Emma say something without making them feel awkward? It was so weird and stupid.

“Or not…” Emma finished. “But okay, so… thoughts on the script Tom, any big changes?”

“I thought of changing the name, not going to lie,” he said.

Y/N frowned. “Tom! What even to?” She nudged him.

“Dunno, the story of how y/n y/l/n broke Tom Holland’s heart and still has him wrapped around her finger,” Tom joked.

“That’s a very stupid name, it wouldn’t be marketable,” Emma pointed out. “But we could change it to the script that changed all the Holland’s lives.”

“It’s not catchy,” Y/N commented, she coughed. “I chose the name because its back to back in French, and it’s a dance step and it’s a-”

“Metaphor, like everything you do,” Tom finished.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Not everything but… Yes, a metaphor and it’s a play on vis-a-vis which means face to face.”

“Alright,” Tom grinned.

“And dos in Spanish is… two.. so it’s just a play on words two.. To two…” Y/N coughed.

“Alright, so I need to know more about the metaphors,” Tom grinned. “My brain is to dumb to get it.”

“So... y/n, look I don’t want to ruin this adorableness or awkwardness you guys have but you’re meeting cast today and I don’t want you to be late, so, I need you both to get going, and stop being adorable, it makes me sick, and please Thomas, go get some clothes, don’t show up shirtless with the cast.”

Eventually Tom had left, and Emma had seen them both hesitate when it came to y/n saying goodbye to him. He did kiss her before he left.

Which left Emma and y/n alone to deal with the conversation, except y/n hadn’t stayed there, she had rushed to get ready. Leaving Emma alone with her thoughts again.

But she didn’t even have the time for it before her phone rang.

“Timothée,” she answered. “Why are you bothering me so early in the morning?”

He chuckled from the other side of the line. “You’re so nice to have as a best friend.”

“I’m a delight, I know,” she sighed. “So.”

“So you slept with Josh?” Tim asked.

“Oh, so you’re calling for that,” Emma coughed. “Thought you were going to ask about y/n first, that’s what you usually do.”

Tim gulped. “I don’t.”

“You know you do,” Emma sighed. “But yes, I slept with Josh, big deal.”

“You’re avoiding your feelings again,” he pointed out. “So do you want to talk about that, maybe?”

“No, I don’t,” Emma coughed. “Look, I freaked out and... Josh was flirting and then Harry did nothing to impede it and-”

“There it is,” Timmy sighed. “So you slept with someone to feel like you were liked huh?”

It seemed that a lot of people did that. Sleeping with someone because they felt like shit.

“You really can’t judge me, huh, you’re one to sleep with your exes when you know they’re-” She didn’t finish her sentence. It was too cruel to say it, and Tim was her best friend and he didn’t deserve that.

“They’re in love with someone else, yeah,” Tim coughed. “I know.”

“Well, what did you realize? Or did you only call to judge my actions?”

“No,” Timmy said. “I’m sorry, I want to help you out but seriously Emma you can’t keep avoiding it.”

“And you can’t avoid it, either, Tim, you are avoiding what’s actually happening and you haven’t tried to address it.”

“What do you want me to address?” Tim asked.

“Oh, piss off and ask away, I know you want to.”

Timmy stayed quiet for a bit, but then took the guts to ask her. “Has y/n talked to Tom?”

Could Emma tell him? Did she have to tell him? It was none of her business but at the same time she knew it was. It kind of was. Emma guessed y/n was too worried on what to do with Tom that she’d forgotten that she’d kind of given hope to Tim.

Did she have to tell Tim? Because she didn’t want him to be hurt, but he would be, anyways.

“They’ve talked, and I mean, he went out with us last night so...” Emma started, deciding on the way what she had to tell him. “You know how it is.”

Tim gulped. “I love her.”

“That’s your big realization?” Emma asked. “That’s not news.”

“No,” Tim sighed. “I just… We talked that night.”

“Oh, you did?” Emma frowned.

“Yes,” Tim coughed. “And--”

“What?”

“Well, she did say she would always be in love with me,” Tim said. “And...Well, it’s weird, okay? She said I had been the only man she’d ever fallen in love with.”

That wasn’t true. Emma frowned. “But-”

“Besides Tom,” Tim finished. “And that she… She didn’t believe that her and Tom could work out, that deep in her heart she didn’t believe they could work out, and that she was scared and-”

“Tim, look, I….” Emma didn’t know how to tell him. Because she had seen y/n and y/n was so in love with Tom. It was so obvious.

“I look, I know, I know she’s too blinded by Tom right now, but look, she was in love with him before she dated me, and I still… Like, I just need her to see that he’s not the right choice, you know? That sure, whatever, she always wanted to kiss him, but that’s not… Not what love is, you know? It’s about a deeper connection, and we… We had that, even that night, we were both so entranced with the moment, and it wasn’t…I just need a chance to prove her, you know?”

Emma didn’t know what to tell him. Because she guessed that’s what y/n liked. Someone to have some initiative, after all, that’s why Y/N had dated Timmy in the end because he had fought for her.

Which drove Emma insane, because why didn’t Harry have it? Why was Harry the one to wait around and do nothing? It made no sense. Because Emma needed him to, and y/n needed both of them to back away to have some time to herself. It was ironic, even.

Harry. Harry. Harry. He had left early in the night after he’d given up with Emma ignoring him. Yes, she had been harsh on him by ignoring him, probably. But did she have any other choice? She had been heartbroken, he had basically told her: I won’t be able to be happy because you’re not her.

It drove Emma insane. So, so insane. And sad.

“Yeah, fight for her,” Emma sighed. “Anyway… I need to go, I’ll see you tomorrow…?”

“Tonight, I’m coming home tonight.”

Was Emma too proud? But she wouldn’t beg Harry, she wasn’t one to beg, no, no. And she wasn’t the one supposed to beg, was she? Emma was fierce and strong.

And she had avoided Josh at all cost when they arrived at the studio. He had said hello but Emma had decided to follow y/n around instead. The cast would be there later, and Emma was thrilled. So was y/n. She thought she’d see y/n all over Tom, kissing again, but their attitude had changed back to the same cold attitude from the day before. Well, to everyone else, but Emma had noticed their glancing. Tom staring at her.

Emma didn’t look at Harry, but she did feel his staring. Harry was so stupid. Why didn’t he try to… say anything? He had said hello, and asked how she was doing but that was it.

“But okay, we have to--” Tom gulped. Y/N and him were talking about the script, as if no trace of their night before. “I mean, each song needs to… We need a choreographer but for sure we have to decide the songs, I mean you have some here but I think we can… Build more from it you know?”

“Yeah, I mean dancing is,” Harry coughed. “But we saw it last night in Dirty Dancing, though, how like… They build up from it.”

“Of course, but I think, look, the songs we choose really have to be... “ She gulped. “Like okay, there’s Valerie who’s friends with Robbie and they have this… Like the music she listens to while with each of them is different. But there’s like two Valerie’s.”

“The one who she is with William and the one with Teddy or Harry” Tom nodded.

Y/N bit her lip. “Yeah, in a way, look, uh, the music,” y/n said. “It’s got to have different tones, like different 80’s songs, Valerie, as we know, likes to listen to Rock n’ Roll, and…Robbie does, too. And well, both William and Robbie are somehow into music, you know?” William with his dancing and Robbie with his band.”

“But Robbie is rock n’ roll and William is… well,” Harry commented. “Of course, but music with William is-”

“Chaotic,” y/n added. “No, but the songs that we want to associate with William is the one they dance to, together.”

“Yeah, and y/n by her own has to have her own songs, you know?” Y/N commented. “And… then we have Teddy who is the outsider, the poet, who showed Valerie other forms of expressing herself… you know? Look the script starts with Valerie’s heartbreak, and then Teddy comes in, and she decides to dance again, you know, cheerful music, she starts so somber and then-”

“Okay but we could-- I mean, just an idea,” Harry coughed. “You wrote her Don’t Go Breaking My Heart,” he commented. “I mean it’s Auli’i and Jordan… They both sing, so maybe…”

“I think I know where you’re going,” she smirked. “That would be cool.”

“So instead of dancing, they sing?” Tom said. “Yeah, better, only singing ”

“But they have to dance,” y/n commented.

Tom frowned. “Yeah but-- It’s better if the only one she dances with is William.”

“But she dances with Teddy, too,” Emma frowned as she finally chipped in. She knew where y/n had wanted to go with the script and these two men were too stupid to understand it. “It’s Valerie who wanted to be a dancer and always danced by herself but stopped trying to pursue the dream after her heart is broken, and then Teddy, though he’s not a dancer, they dance together clumsily because…”

“What?” Tom frowned.

“Please, it’s like in Dirty Dancing, right?” Emma said.

Tom blinked. “Dirty Dancing? But I don’t-”

“Didn’t you get it from last night?” Emma wondered. “What the dancing is meant to represent?”

Y/N coughed, awkwardly.

Emma thought it was too simple to understand, knowing y/n’s story, it was so simply to deduce it.

Yet, Harry and Tom were both watching the girls with confusion. Emma chuckled. “Okay, so Dirty Dancing is a coming of age film… Baby is embracing her sexuality,” Emma explained. “Even in the beginning she’s…Unexperienced, alright? The only dancing she initially knows is the dumb merengue lessons, and when she first dances it’s… Dumb and she doesn’t know how to, and then she’s exposed to the dirty dancing, which is exposing her to the sexuality, alright?”

Tom closed his eyes and chuckled. “What but this is-”

“Throughout the film,” Emma continued. “We see Baby exploring her physicality through dancing, and it’s not about sex, it’s about her discovering her womanhood, and her being fine with it, and it’s such a nice point of view to see the film, it’s through the woman’s gaze, you know? Because we see Johnny as the sex appeal, not her, you as the viewer are growing with her… she’s getting confidence over her body, and--She explores it while partnering with Johnny Castle, and how he’s experienced and she learns it from another woman, too, you know, like she’s being transferred her knowledge, and in their first dance, Baby’s developing sexual and romantic feelings towards Johnny- and it represents--”

Tom chuckled awkwardly again. “But okay, that’s Dirty Dancing, this is not--” Tom chuckled. “I mean I’m sure the dancing means-”

Y/N and Emma were not moving. Emma thought they had understood it.

“I mean,” y/n was shaking now. “Okay, well, you obviously know how the first dance scene with William and Valerie… first they don’t, though they want to... they just don’t dance together and keep screwing up.”

“Yeah?” Harry was so confused.

“And Valerie doesn’t feel comfortable dancing,” Emma continued, knowing y/n was too embarrassed to explain it to the boys. “And…then she dances with Teddy, and she’s cool, but--”

“I don’t get it-” Harry said.

But Emma was sure Tom had understood it by then. But it seemed that it had bothered him.

“But--” Tom chipped in. “So the only two people Valerie ever danced with are William and Teddy? And...Teddy was the first person she danced with?”

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the-young-and-forgotten · 3 years

Text

Happiness

| evermore masterlist |

A/N: this is my first fic for the collab with @just-a-belgian-girl! I hope you enjoy it! This honestly took too long to write lol

Honey, when I'm above the trees

I see this for what it is

But now I'm right down in it

All the years I've given

Is just shit we're dividing up

Showed you all of my hiding spots

I was dancing when the music stopped

And in the disbelief

I can't face reinvention

I haven't met the new me yet

It was a chilly Autumn night, Sirius was yet to return home from his latest mission, so you were stuck eating dinner alone… again.

You had come out of Hogwarts a year and a half ago. You were now living with your boyfriend. You were happy as one could be when your relationship starts feeling forced.

In all honesty, one side of you knew that he had fallen out of love. But your naive side won out whispering ‘it’ll be okay’ ‘he still loves you’ ‘his work is just taking a toll on him’ into your ear, preventing you from seeing the truth. So you continued on, stuck in the same routine as always.

Tears slid down your face as you stood to put your dishes away. Of course this happened to you. Nothing ever won out in your favour.

Hearing a knock on the door, you startle and drop the plate into the sink. You plaster on the smile you have been practicing for the past year.

There'll be happiness after you

But there was happiness because of you

Both of these things can be true

There is happiness

Past the blood and bruise

Past the curses and cries

Beyond the terror in the nightfall

Haunted by the look in my eyes

That would've loved you for a lifetime

Leave it all behind

And there is happiness

You hadn’t noticed it was raining until you opened the door wide to let Sirius in. He was soaked through, looking like a drowned rat.

He shrugged off his cloak and threw it over the coat rack, tracking the water indoors. He bends down and kisses your cheek, lacking the warmth it used to have. He murmurs a hello before continuing to the kitchen.

“Dinner’s on the table” you pointlessly mutter, following him through. “I’m just gonna go to bed...” He barely acknowledges what you said, too busy helping himself to the food. You wrap your arms around your aching torso and go upstairs, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

You close the door behind you, enclosing yourself in the dark. You flop down onto the bed, tears flowing freely. What had happened to the beautiful romance the two of you used to have? Oh, how you miss it. Everything was so much simpler back then.

You curl in on yourself, as if trying to protect yourself from the hurtful truth. After a while, Sirius sneaks in, bending over to give you a goodnight kiss. If he notices your puffy eyes, he doesn’t say anything.

Tell me, when did your winning smile

Begin to look like a smirk?

When did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt?

I hope she'll be a beautiful fool

Who takes my spot next to you

No, I didn't mean that

Sorry, I can't see facts through all of my fury

You haven't met the new me yet

The sun isn’t even up by the time you both get out of bed. It’s quiet, something totally out of character for Sirius.

He was sitting at the table, head in his hands. You walk behind him and hug him from behind, sliding your hands down his chest. “What’s wrong beautiful?” He shrugs off your hands and stands up, chair cluttering down behind him.

“I’m just- I’m just not feeling the greatest right now.” He leans on the table, hair in his face. He was clearly exhausted. You place a tentative hand on his shoulder, slightly nervous to be touching him in this state. “Sirius if you want I can-” “Just stop.” He flings you hand off once more, turning to face you.

You blink owlishly up at him “What” “I just-” he pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes “I need to be alone right now”

‘I need to be alone right now’

The words echo in your mind. For six months you have been hearing that one repeat. You were sick of it.

Barely registering what you were doing, you slap the top of the table in anger. “No.” He lowers his hand and stares at you incredulously. “No?” It comes in a whisper. The calm before the storm.

You nod feverishly “No. I have had it up to here with your excuses as to why you can’t hang out with me anymore. I didn’t come into this relationship only to be second guessing whether or not my boyfriend loves me.” He goes to interrupt but you plow on, refusing his input.

“Time and time again I have pushed down my anger and hurt saying ‘he’s just going through something’ but you’re not, you’re not. Just.. tell me what I’m doing wrong!”

The room feels more crowded as he moves toward you, eyes spitting fury. “What’s wrong?” He gestures to the two of you. “We are wrong. We can never agree, constant nit-picking at each other and so much anger!”

You throw your hands up in rage “I’m only angry because you neglect me! You slouch inside the house every. Single. Evening. So mopey and goddamn tired either demanding food or sleep and I can’t handle it! You are NOT the Sirius Black of Hogwarts.”

He freezes in anger stone cold. Impassive. Then, he erupts. “Open your eyes Y/n! THIS ISN’T HOGWARTS ANYMORE. We can’t run around like the kings and queens of the world anymore! You don’t think I want to go back? You don’t think-” he chokes, angrily wiping away tears. “You don’t think I want everything as it was?” His voice drops at this, letting the tears fall.

“I can’t take this new world! It’s big! It’s cold! It’s dog eat dog constantly. Someone like me can’t survive out here! I need life, love, I need warmth. But day in and day out I sit here slowly freezing from the inside out.”

He wraps his arms around his torso and bends over, screaming with so much hurt and anger that you start to cry as much as him.

“I’m sorry Y/n, I just can’t do this anymore.”

He walks away from you, fingers working at his hair. He stomps outside, front door slamming shut causing the whole house to shake.

There'll be happiness after me

But there was happiness because of me

Both of these things I believe

There is happiness

In our history

Across our great divide

There is a glorious sunrise

Dappled with the flickers of light

From the dress I wore at midnight

Leave it all behind

And there is happiness

You hear the roar of his motorbike before you see him leave. You knew this was a long time coming. In a way you were sort of relieved. But damn you forgot how much it stung.

He was gonna come back soon. You just knew it. But he wasn’t going to stay.

This was the end.

The end of you and him. Him and you. Forever.

‘Oh well’ you think, but the tears in your eyes say otherwise. It just started really sinking in now.

You rub your eyes and stifle a yawn. It was way too early for this shit. You finally get up to make yourself a cup of coffee and go sit on your porch.

The sun was starting to rise but you had little appreciation for it. Content to sip your coffee and overthink. It wasn’t until the warm, golden rays of the early morning hit your face did you really start to appreciate it. Hell, you hadn’t seen the sun rise in forever. You slowly place the cup down and rest your arms upon your legs, leaning in. You close your eyes and feel the soft sun upon your face. For the first time in ages you feel whole again.

I can't make it go away by making you a villain

I guess it's the price I pay for seven years in heaven

And I pulled your body into mine every goddamn night now I get fake niceties

No one teaches you what to do

When a good man hurts you

And you know you hurt him too

He comes back near nighttime, significantly calmer than hours before. You were sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch and reading your book. “Did you come back to get your stuff?” You ask, idly flipping over the page. The only response was the sound of a suitcase being dragged across the floor.

He dragged it all the way to the front door, pausing. You stand up from your position, a little confused. “So are you gonna go or-?”

“I never meant for this to happen..” Sirius whispered, so quietly you had to strain to hear him. He turned around to face you, tear tracks staining his cheeks. “I thought we would last forever like James and Lily.”

Sighing you walk over to him resting a hand on his arm “James and Lily are one of a kind. We just weren’t meant for this type of long time relationship.” You smile gently at him, feeling unreasonably calm. “You said it yourself back in 5th year. Honestly we tried too hard didn’t we.” You feel your own eyes start to well up. Fuck, you had thought you were done with tears.

He drops his suitcase and pulls you in for a hug, resting his head on yours. In that hug you feel all the memories you shared and the countless deeds you had committed together pass through. All of those memories were now sitting in an old castle, shut away and partially forgotten.

The two of you pull away and you wave him off. The night quickly swallows him up, leaving where he was going to himself and the night only. The cold air bites at you but you can’t bring yourself to go in just yet, so you sit down and wait. Waiting for what, you don’t know. Finally you force yourself to go in, the house more quiet than you had ever heard it.

Honey, when I'm above the trees

I see it for what it is

But now my eyes leak acid rain

On the pillow where you used to lay your head

After giving you the best I had

Tell me what to give after that

All you want from me now

Is the green light of forgiveness

You haven't met the new me yet

And I think she'll give you that

If someone had told you that in 2 years time that Sirius would break up with you and you were gonna be sleeping alone you would've laughed in their face. But it wasn’t all that funny anymore.

Your body fluids must have gone down to 20% due to the amount of tears you were shedding. Did they ever end? Everytime you wiped your face, your hand came back damp with tears.

It was one of those nights where everything felt lonely. The house had been eerily quiet for days now and...deserted. You shift onto your side, unable to sleep. The left side of the bed remained untouched and cold. You reach over and lay your hand on the pillow. You can almost feel him there. But of course, it’s empty.

You throw yourself out of bed, stomping out to the front.

In the lamplight you see a young couple twirling their way along the sidewalk, their laughter rings around the street, so carefree and drunk on love. You smile softly at them, hoping to god that their relationship lasts.

But like everything in life, they pass by. Leaving the night silent and judging as before. You sigh and open your mouth feeling the need to vent your problems to the night.

“I know our relationship is done, and we won't ever get back together again. But god, I regret forcing it to work. Maybe if we had just let it be…we would’ve lasted longer.” You rest your cheek in your hand and close your eyes. “But that's just wishful thinking.”

There'll be happiness after you

But there was happiness because of you too

Both of these things can be true

There is happiness

In our history

Across our great divide

There is a glorious sunrise

Dappled with the flickers of light

From the dress I wore at midnight

Leave it all behind

Oh, leave it all behind

Leave it all behind

And there is happiness

For the next few weeks your mind is surprisingly clear. You sell your old house and move into a little town on the edge of a forest. You explore the little village you landed yourself in, feeling more free than ever.

You walk back along the dirt path towards your house. You feel warmth on your hair and tilt it towards the setting sun, smiling softly for the first time in weeks.

Oh how you could stay here forever. And you will.

#sirius x reader #evermore collab #sirius black #sirius x reader drabble #sirius x reader angst #sirius x reader oneshot #sirius black x reader #sirius x y/n #sirius x reader song fic

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latetaektalk · 4 years

Text

the one that got away | lmk

“you were the one that got away.”

genre: friends to lovers!au, fluff, angst

pairing: mark x reader

word count: 3.298

warnings: none

playlist: lonely shade of blue - nick leng, cruel world - faye

a/n: just something i wrote and wanted to get out there without overthinking it too much.

Mark didn’t know immediately, didn’t look into your eyes and knew that he was in love with you. It was by no means love at first sight. Instead falling for you, falling in love with you was a gradual and slow process, a process he didn’t know was happening until it was too late.

Being with you had been so easy and natural to Mark that it took Johnny asking him if he felt something more for you for him to realise that he, in fact, did feel a little (a lot) more for you. When he finally noticed his feelings for you, it had been far too late.

There was no falling out of love with you anymore.

In hindsight, Mark could actually pinpoint the events that had him falling for you, but at the time he really hadn’t noticed at all. A part of him did feel incredibly stupid because, God, he should have noticed, should have known a long time ago.

Mark was certain that the seed of love had planted itself into his chest when he had first noticed how you would genuinely laugh at his stupidly bad jokes like they were the funniest thing you had ever heard. And there was no doubt in his mind that when you had only smiled at him when he got scared watching ‘The Shining’ and allowed him to hide behind your arm without a single word that the seed had begun sprouting. The seedling had started to grow after you had accidentally headbutted him when you were trying to learn how to skateboard. He had been holding your hands to keep you up and instead of being embarrassed after headbutting him, you had just laughed until tears brimmed your eyes. And the flower had started blooming in his chest when you had knocked on his door right at midnight on his birthday with a cake in your hands and a big smile on your lips, the candlelight pouring down your features like a golden and warm lake.

And it was even more impressive that the flower had survived in his chest, survived months and almost even a year ever since Mark first discovered it. It was a big surprise because even though Mark had been trying his hardest to keep it alive, he didn’t really have a green thumb or any real knowledge about caring for plants.

It should have died and withered a long time ago in his chest, but it hadn’t and instead only grown bigger and more beautiful every day, every day he spent with you.

And Mark knew he had to tell you about his feelings.

He knew that he had to, not even in the hopes that you would reciprocate them, but because you deserved the truth, deserved to know, deserved to know just how amazing you made him feel by simply being yourself, deserved to know that there was somebody out there that loved you for you.

But it wasn’t that easy, wasn’t as easy as Mark would like it to be, wasn’t as easy as TV and film made it look. And it wasn’t that he hadn’t tried at all, he had.

Mark had walked up to you with the plan to tell you all, to wear his heart on his sleeve and spill the beans. He wanted you to know just how you made him feel, wanted you to know the amount of love sitting deep in his chest for you, but every time he tried, every time he opened his mouth to finally profess his love for you, Mark would get all tongue-tied. The words would fall short and his throat would constrict into a painful and suffocating lump.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair because, God, Mark wanted to tell you so badly. He wanted to tell you so much that he had made it his New Year’s resolution, his one and only New Year’s resolution, to tell you how he felt by the end of January, but just like with any other New Year’s resolution, he gave up on it after barely a week.

And now, you two had graduated.

“We’ve finally done it, huh? Finally graduated,” you said and kicked a tiny stone back and forth. Mark glanced at you and a smile tugged on the corners of his lips as he watched you wrinkle your forehead.

“Crazy,” he exhaled and picked on his pants while sweat collected on the back of his neck and his heart continued racing in his chest like it was about to explode.

Mark couldn’t quite believe it, couldn’t believe that high school was finally over. The past four years were a rollercoaster and even though there were times where he just wanted to get off and run away, he did enjoy the ride.

And you were a big reason why. Mark couldn’t imagine a day he hadn’t spent interacting with you in some form, couldn’t imagine a day you and he didn’t end up laughing until tears brimmed your eyes, couldn’t imagine a day you didn’t brighten, sweeten up.

So, it was odd and weird and incredibly difficult for Mark to sit here with you on this bench and stare at the empty campus weeks after both of you had received your high school diploma without feeling gloomy, sad and incredibly regretful.

Mark looked at the cracks in the pavement of the campus and remembered how you had tripped once and ruined your knee on it, looked at the gate he would always stand at and wait for you to finish up class, looked at the piece of lawn that had eroded off because he and you would sit underneath the big eucalyptus tree whenever the sun would burn a little too bright, looked at the bench you two were sitting on right now because that was your bench, looked at the faded ‘Mark’s and Y/N’s bench’ you had written on with sharpie when you two were just juniors.

“I think I might miss this,” you mumbled quietly and shook your head at yourself rather than anything else. “I can’t believe that it’s time for college already.”

“Yeah, I know,” Mark hummed in agreement and puckered his forehead at the thought of not sitting in class with all of his friends in the dimly lit and cold classrooms. His heart was still racing, quickening as he thought about your words.

Mark was going to miss it, miss being able to look over his shoulder and lock eyes with Johnny or Renjun or (more importantly) with you, miss bullshitting his way through a presentation he and you had haphazardly finished during your lunch break because both of you had spent yesterday watching every horror film you could get your hands on, miss meeting up with his friends and you to go study, but end up talking the hours away until the librarian would inevitably throw you all out for being a little too loud, miss skipping classes on the most beautiful days with you to go find the best pancake or waffle or ice cream place or whatever your new obsession was.

But he was going to miss-

“I’m gonna miss you.”

-you the most.

Mark couldn’t bring himself to look at you, couldn’t turn his head and look you into your eyes when you spoke up again. There was a painful knot sitting deep in his throat and he had trouble breathing. His fingers were itching for you, itching to hold your hands, but all he could do was press them against his thighs to stop them from trembling too much.

Your words hurt and hit him, cut into him like a knife. They were like daggers pushing through his heart and leaving gaping holes behind. They deepened the feeling of sorrow and regret in him and for once, Mark wished he could turn back time, wished he could have just a little more time, a little more time and courage so he could tell you, confess earlier.

“I’m going to miss you, too,” Mark finally whispered, words slipping past his lips quietly and you looked at him. “It’s not that bad, right? I mean, sure, we won’t see each other or hang out every day like we have for the past years, but it’s just half an hour. It- It’s really not that bad. We’ll survive, right? Just because we’re going to different colleges, it doesn’t mean we have to stop being friends, right?”

You didn’t say anything, but Mark was too nervous and worked up to actually notice your silence and lack of response. If he had, he would have known, known that something was wrong, but he didn’t.

Your feet pressed into the ground and even though he wanted to, Mark couldn’t bring himself to look at you. And in those few seconds of silence, it felt like his heart in his chest was going to burst through his rib cage and walk away from him because he knew you were waiting for him to look at you.

When Mark finally somehow willed himself to turn his head to you, finally somehow willed himself to look you in the eyes, finally somehow willed himself to face you, he knew that this, this, was truly his last chance right now.

And even though Mark had attempted so many times to tell you how he feels about you, this time he could actually feel the courage built up inside him, could feel the words start to dance on his tongue, could feel the lump in his throat finally unfurl.

Maybe it was because you looked so beautiful with the way the sunlight poured down your features and the way your lips were all glossy from your lip balm or maybe it was because you both had finally graduated. Whatever it was, Mark knew that this time he was going to tell you, tell you how he feels about you.

“I have to-”

“Wait.”

You looked at him with your mouth agape and if Mark hadn’t been so busy with looking around before finally finding what he had searched for, he would have seen that something swimming in your eyes, would have seen the way you looked at him, would have seen the way the corners of your lips were turned downwards.

Mark bent down and picked the closest and incidentally the most beautiful little daisy he could find before handing it to you. You took it, looking at it before looking back up at Mark and it was then when he let it out.

“I love you.”

The three small words sat between Mark and you, filled up the air, hit your ears in a soft whisper. Your eyes softened at them, softened in a way he had never seen before. And it was in the way the corners of your lips curled up that had Mark’s heart cracking and breaking.

“Mark,” you whispered softly before looking back at the daisy in your hand and placing it gently next to you on the bench.

You put your hand on his, squeezing as you shook your head at him and Mark knew, knew he had messed up, knew he should have stayed silent. His heart had just been begging him, begging him to admit the truth to him and he couldn’t not listen to it, just had to say it.

“I really wish you had told me sooner,” you whispered and leaned into Mark, head hitting his shoulder. You stayed there for a while, stayed with your forehead pressed against his shoulder and Mark felt the courage wash away, felt the words dry on his tongue and turn it itchy, felt the lump grow back, bigger than ever.

“God, I wish you had told me so much sooner,” you choked and lifted your head, gaze meeting Mark’s in an instant. And aside from the tears, he saw something else in your eyes.

“Oh my God,” Mark whispered before leaning back to look at you better. It was then while he was looking into your eyes that he remembered, remembered so clearly that it was almost unfair that he only remembered now, now that he had finally told you how he truly felt about you. “You’re moving.”

You screwed your eyes shut and it was the confirmation Mark needed to know that he was right. He couldn’t even scoff or express his disappointment in any way because after all, he had been the one that had waited so long to finally tell you, because after all, he was to blame.

Mark remembered how you had mentioned it before, remembered how you had mentioned that you were contemplating applying to this prestigious university across the country, but at the time, you had been unsure, unsure because it meant you would have to change your whole life, would have to leave your family and friends behind, would have to move away. And Mark also remembered that he had been the one that encouraged you to apply, encouraged you to give it a try and not worry about anything else.

His gaze shifted away from you and instead he stared at the campus in front of him, stared at the campus both of you had called yours for the past four years.

“How long have you-”

Mark couldn’t bring himself to finish the question, words sitting heavy on his chest and he really thought he might suffocate.

“I got the letter a few weeks ago,” you said quietly and Mark snapped his head at you, but instead of looking back at him, you stared at your hands and pressed your heels into the ground like you wanted to dig a hole for yourself.

“I couldn’t tell you, not you,” you shook your head and Mark knew from the trembling of your voice that you were on the verge of tears, “I- I wanted to. I knew I had to, but I- I just couldn’t.”

Mark wanted to reach over and cup your face when he watched you swipe the tears away, fingers dragging on your cheeks too harshly. He wanted to tell you not to pull on your skin so much, wanted to show you how to do it properly, but his hands were glued to his side. His mind was still processing everything that had just happened.

“Is that why you wanted to meet up here?” Mark asked and your eyes locked with his for just a second before you looked away and stared at your hands again. Mark’s gaze stayed on you and you didn’t have to confirm it for him to know. After four years, you were an open book to him.

“You mean so much to me,” you started to curl up into a ball, “I couldn’t bring myself to tell you, couldn’t ruin the rest of our time together.”

“When are you going?”

Mark watched you screw your eyes shut, watched you press your lips together in an attempt to swallow the words, but you couldn’t, couldn’t because you knew he deserved to know. So you turned your head to him and met his gaze even though it hurt you, even though your heart cracked just like his when you did.

“Tomorrow.”

Tears, hot and painful, spilled from your eyes and down your cheeks. A sob banged on the walls of your throat and you could feel yourself breaking and hurting more and more.

Your fingers curled around Mark’s and your knuckles turned white around his hand. All he could do was turn his palm and wrap his fingers around yours, squeezing back in an effort to make this easier because he hated to see you like this.

Mark wanted to tell you that it was fine, tell you that you shouldn’t cry, but he couldn’t, couldn’t because he didn’t want to let you go, wanted you here.

“I’m so sorry.”

You sniffed and sobbed your way through the words.

“Do you love me?”

Mark still wanted to know, still wanted to know if he and you could have been something, still wanted to know that if things had turned out differently, if he and you would be in each other’s arms right now and giggling instead of crying.

“I love you.”

Never did Mark imagine that hearing you tell him that you loved him would hurt so much, imagine that hearing you tell him that you loved him would break his heart into literal pieces, imagine that hearing you tell him that you loved him would tear him apart and leave him empty and gutted.

“You do?” Mark whispered, voice breaking as he watched you crumble apart in front of him. You forced yourself to look into his eyes and when you did, you saw the pain in them, sparkling in the sunlight.

“So much.”

The corner’s of Mark’s lips turned up into the most beautiful smile he could muster up right now.

“I do, too,” he murmured and before a new wave of tears could hit you and stream down your face, Mark leaned forward and captured your lips.

They were soft, soft like clouds, soft like he had imagined how they would be every time he watched you put on lip balm, but they weren’t sweet like he thought they would be. Instead, Mark tasted the tears on your lips, tasted the salt, tasted the pain rippling through you.

Your hands found Mark’s neck and you instinctively pulled him closer, closer because that was all you wanted right now. And maybe you were just tasting your own tears or maybe you were tasting Mark’s tears that he hid from you by pressing his lips against yours, but you could taste the salt on the tip of your tongue.

With one hand, Mark cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin lightly to wipe away the tears that continued to run down your face and with the other hand, Mark held you close to him, grabbing onto your waist to pull you closer.

This was definitely not how either of you imagined your first kiss with each other was going to be like, but there was no changing of it, no undoing the circumstances. You were going to go, were going to move away, had to move away and you two just had to accept that.

And when Mark and you finally pulled away, you looked deep into each other’s eyes, looked at each other like you were each other’s worlds and maybe you had been for the past four years, but now it was ending, coming to a beautiful albeit bittersweet end.

Mark reached over and took the daisy again before gently tucking your hair away. With delicate fingers, he put the daisy behind your ear. He and you locked eyes and there was this satisfied smile pulling on the corners of Mark’s lips.

“I’m so happy for you,” Mark lied through his teeth and even though he could see that you knew, you let the corners of your lips curl up into a smile, tears brimming your eyes again.

“Thank you.”

You skimmed the daisy with your fingertips before lacing your fingers with his and holding onto Mark’s hands like your life depended on it. And a part of you, a part of you really did feel like it did, did feel like if you let go, your world would crumble apart and you knew Mark felt it too by the way he was squeezing and holding your hand.

And in that moment of silence, in that moment of silence where you both just stared at each other, you knew, thought the same thing, had the same words dancing on the tip of your tongues.

You were the one that got away.

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lunetheaveragefan · 3 years

Text

one day...

Hey! It’s time for chapter 6! This chapter also deals with some heavy things as well, so be mindful of that (as always, more details in the warnings). Anyway, that’s all, so enjoy the chapter!

A Sander Sides high school AU

Pairing: Prinxiety and some background Logicality

Summary: Virgil is used to being alone. He only has one friend, Logan. But when Logan makes a new friend, things begin to change as two more join their group. Roman, a boisterous theater kid, seems determined to destroy Virgil’s lonely, average life. How much will Virgil’s life change?

Warnings: mentions/descriptions of homophobia, bullying, suicide (hanging), suicide attempt (overdose), and self harm; mentions of Remus and Janus; swearing

Word Count: 1933 words

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

CHAPTER SIX

Roman bites his lip and looks around. After standing awkwardly in the middle of the cafeteria for too long for his liking, he finally spots Virgil, Roman, and Patton sitting at a table in the back corner of the room. Relieved, he makes his way towards them.

Virgil sees him coming towards the three of them, and, to Roman’s surprise, gives him a small smile. Patton must see this, because he turns around and spots Roman as well. He’s more openly enthusiastic and waves, a big grin lighting up his face.

Sliding into the open seat next to Virgil, Roman says, “It’s weird to be eating this early. I’m not used to it.” Patton chuckles.

Virgil, always one to get to the point, asks, “So. Why’d you stand up for me?” Roman bites his lip and thinks, Dammit. I was hoping he forgot. He didn’t want to tell them. No one, even Patton, knew why he’d suddenly become so averse to bullying after being one for years. Everyone most likely thought he had a change of heart somewhere along the line. And he had, in a way. But there was more to the story.

There is always more to the story.

“Well, uh, you see…” Roman stammers, trying to get himself together. He took a deep breath before continuing, “Well, back in middle school, right after I came out, my dad was such an asshole about it. He didn’t want to accept or respect that I was gay. He said -- and did -- a lot of things. I realized sometime in July that he was being a bully, and what he was doing wasn’t so different from what I had done. And I don’t want to stand around watching someone get beat up the way I was by him, you know? I don’t want to sit around, knowing I could do something, and then have to live with that regret for the rest of my life.” It’s only a half truth, and a shitty one at best, but Roman’s too scared to talk about what really happened.

He doesn’t want to relive the worst, most terrifying days of his life. Really, who would?

Patton, who’d already heard about what had happened the summer before freshman year a million times, still starts tearing up. What a sap, Roman thinks, but it’s a loving remark. He knows that he wouldn’t be near as happy, nearly as accepting of himself as he is now without Patton.

There’s not much of a reaction from Logan; just a small head nod and a slightly reassuring smile. But it’s more than Roman was expecting from the serious boy, so it throws him off. What throws him off more, however, is Virgil’s face.

It’s very skeptical, eyebrow raised, eyes drilling into Roman’s, almost as if he’s trying to see the lie just by the force of willpower. To Roman, it seems like he might be pretty close. No matter how much he wants to break eye contact with Virgil, he can’t. There’s something about it that draws him in, that’s electrical.

To Roman’s relief, Virgil looks away first, but only to roll his eyes.

“Oh come on, Roman,” Virgil scoffs. “I can smell a half-truth or lie or whatever the hell that was from a mile away. Now, that all may be true, but there’s more to the story. So cut the bullshit and start again. Besides, I’ve already heard that whole story. That’s not your big secret. Enlighten me, why don’t you? What would be so bad that the great Roman Princeford would have to hide it?” Resting his chin on his palm, Virgil smirks, an obvious challenge. He wants to see if I’ll break. Give in. And honestly, I don’t know if telling or closing off would be letting him win.

“Hey, now, Virgil,” Patton says, always the peacemaker. “Let’s be nicer—”

“No, no, it’s fine, Patton,” Roman interrupts. “He’s right. I-I can’t keep avoiding this.”

Dread settles in Roman’s stomach as he steels himself to tell the story. Ignoring Patton’s concerned, “Kiddo…” he begins.

“Well, I guess the right place to start is with saying this: I have a twin brother. Remus.” Breathe. “He’s-He’s special, I guess. His mind is...twisted. Dark. He likes things that aren’t really...well, good or happy. And I never minded. He was still my brother, demented as he may be.

“My parents, though...they thought something was wrong with him.” Breathe, Roman. You can do this. “They sent him to therapist after therapist, psychologist after psychologist. Gave him pill after pill, but nothing ever worked. He kept on being the same crazy Remus. So they just...gave up. On him and his future and their...their love for him, I suppose.

“But I never did. I tried to be there for him. I went to every performance he was in, I went to movies and football games with him. But it was harder as I grew up because suddenly, my parents decided that since Remus was a let down, a...a failure-” Come on! Don’t cry. It’s fine. You’re fine. Safe. “-that meant I had to make up for it. If they couldn’t have two normal sons, then one of them better be, had to be, pretty goddamn exceptional.

“So we grew apart. Remus found a boyfriend, Janus, who could take him to movies and football games and go see his performances. And I kept on being the glory child for my parents. And everyone else, it seemed. I didn’t know that he was getting bullied until...until it was almost too late.”

The images rise in his mind: The hospital room, sterile and white, and the boy lying still under the sheet. The rope, tied with a near perfect circle at the end, hidden in the back of his closet. The blood pooling, staining the carpet red, gushing from the slashes on his arms. The way he looked when he woke up, the disappointment clear on his face.

Remus, cold, pulse so slow Roman was sure he was dead, and the bottle of pills on the nightstand.

Roman forces the sobs back down his throat.

“Remus attempted suicide, and I didn’t even know he was hurting. He survived, of course, but just seeing him in the hospital, after...it hurt. A whole fucking lot. And so I swore to myself that I would do whatever I could to prevent that from happening to anyone. No one should have to look down at someone they care about, love, and hope with all they have that they survive. Knowing that someone tried to...to kill themself? That they genuinely thought it was the best option? It’s the worst feeling in the world. And I don’t want that for anyone.” Roman swipes at his eyes, only to find a single, hot tear creeping down his cheek. Quickly, hoping no one noticed, he wipes it away.

Blinking until he feels back in control of his emotions, Roman looks around. Patton, of course, is a sort of wounded puppy, concern in his eyes, and a hand over his heart. Logan has been sombered by the story, more sadness than Roman expected showing on his face. But curiously, Logan’s eyes aren’t on Roman; they’re on Virgil. And when he looks over, Roman sees why.

Virgil has tears streaming down his face. A hand is over his mouth, shaking slightly. His other hand clutches his wrist, so hard, the skin around his fingers is turning white. The two sit there for a moment, staring at each other. Abruptly, Virgil throws his arms around Roman and hugs him tightly.

“I’m-I’m so sorry,” Virgil says in between sobs. After the shock has passed, Roman wraps his arms around the other boy. The hugs lasts long enough for the butterflies in Roman’s stomach to become full-fledged birds of prey.

Finally, when Virgil pulls away, Roman offers him a small smile. To his surprise, Virgil returns it. Roman isn’t sure if he should ask Virgil about his reaction to the explanation or not, but Patton saves him from overthinking it.

“So the musical is coming up…” Patton prompts, clearly trying to change the subject. Thank God for Patton, Roman thinks. I don’t want to think about all that anymore.

“Yeah!” Roman replies, pasting a smile on his face. “You guys are all coming, right?”

Patton, looking scandalized, says, “Of course we are!” before correcting himself by saying, “Well, I am at least.”

“Personally, I’ve never understood the whole theatre thing,” Logan adds, “but I suppose, as your friend, I should come support you, so I will be there.” Patton smiles widely at that, causing a small chuckle from Roman. Patton’s always bugging me about confessing my feelings, yet here he is, keeping his crush to himself.

“And Virgil?” Roman asks, trying not to get his hopes up. He’s probably not going to want to come. Hanging out with me at school and studying is one thing, but this would be a clear admission of friendship, something he most definitely does not see me as. Why would he—

“Of course I’m coming,” Virgil says, wiping away his tears. “You’d have to be pretty stupid to thing I would miss it.” He gives Roman a gentle, friendly punch in the arm, and despite the lingering sadness from his earlier confession, Roman beams.

Trying to hide his overwhelming happiness, Roman simply states, “Cool.”

The rest of lunch, the four make conversation about meaningless things: upcoming tests, funny memories, disastrous family get-togethers, and the like. When they get up to dump their trays, Roman leans over to Virgil and whispers, “I apologize for making you cry. I didn’t think it would affect anyone that much.”

Virgil replies, “Oh, it’s okay. It just hit a little too close to home, that’s all. I’m fine now.” The smile Virgil gives him does reassure him. And for once, Roman doesn’t spend all his time thinking about what Virgil could possibly mean by the story ‘hitting a little too close to home,’ mostly because all Roman can think about is the feeling of Virgil’s arms wrapped around him and his small, yet no less meaningful, smiles.

It’s this he’s thinking about after school when the musical director says, quiet loudly, “Roman!”

Blinking repeatedly to dispel the distracting thoughts, he peaks around the curtain and asks, “Yes, Mr. Halter?”

“That was your entrance.” Roman winces.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He hurries out to his spot on the stage, fixing his costume.

Mr. Halter sighs and says, “Roman, that’s the 5th time you’ve missed an entrance just today. What is going on? The play is on Friday. We don’t have time for messing around or distractions.” His face is filled with disappointment, but also concern. Roman figures it’s because he never messes up this much, especially when the performances are so close.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ll try to be more focused. Just have a lot on my mind.” Roman flashes a winning smile, and Mr. Halter looks relieved.

“Good. Now, let’s start with Ana’s line right before Roman’s entrance.” Roman and the rest of the cast and crew nod and get in their respective places. Back behind the curtains once again, Roman thinks, Goddammit, Virgil. You just keep on messing up my life. The thought, however harsh it seems, is filled with something awfully close to love.

But Roman knows he can’t keep dwelling on that almost-love, or at least not right now. So he shoves all thoughts of Virgil from his mind and steps into his character and out onto the stage.

#virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #prinxiety #logicality #deceit x remus #sanders sides #high school au #fanfiction #fanfic #one day...

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moondustis · 5 years

Text

the louvre (m)

pairing: jung jaehyun + reader genre: angst, smut, fluff word count: 9k warnings: unhealthy behavior, discussion of depression and anxiety. summary: “On the nights you spend alone the feeling of loneliness is not as comfortable as it used to be. It’s like Jaehyun has engraved himself in every part of your life, trying to fit in inside every empty spot you had.” song rec: are you bored yet? - wallows / tardes que nunca acabam - baco exu do blues

'Cause we could stay at home and watch the sunset But I can't help from asking, "Are you bored yet?" And if you're feeling lonely you should tell me Before this ends up as another memory Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie? Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie?

If there is one thing that’s familiar to you is loneliness. You’ve known it for ages and have known it in its rawest and cruelest forms.

At sixteen your parents get a divorce. You saw it coming, of course, all the fights you grew up listening to had to come to an end at some point. You move in with your mother and when you come home from school she has already left work. by the time she arrived you’re already fast asleep.

It gets lonely pretty fast and you find out that you’re not the best at dealing with it. It starts slow, you’re crying for no apparent reason and there’s a sadness in the bottom of your stomach that wants to claw its way up. Then it’s hard waking up in the morning so you just skip class, one day then another, then a whole week. It’s hard finding things that excite you and you stop talking to all of your friends because why bother.

Loneliness eats you alive and you let it. spending most of the time asleep or dozing off from medication you shouldn’t be taking, you waste your teen years just like that, barely graduating. Barely making it.

At nineteen you don’t really know what to do with your life, applying to colleges you are sure you won’t pass and still sleeping more than you should. You fight a lot with your mother and you want desperately to get away. You’re still lonely but now it doesn’t bother you that much anymore.

At twenty you get into college to study art, the only thing that seemed to spark something inside of you. You move away to a dorm room that’s so tiny you can’t share it with anyone. You prefer it that way.

You got so used to being alone that anything other than that makes you antsy, makes you want to cry and hide and never leave your bedroom again. You make few friends and go out very rarely and when the therapeut you attend once asks if you’re okay you cry until you feel empty again.

At twenty you meet Jung Jaehyun.

You feel out of place at the party you are, can of beer feeling cold in your hand and music too loud. You wish you were drunk. Your friend, Taeyong, had abandoned you just a minute ago with the excuse of finding the person he was interested in and telling you to have a good time.

You should have left, of course. but you don’t and Jaehyun finds you by yourself on a couch. He introduces himself with his dimples in your face and offers to keep you company. You shouldn’t have let him.

One drink and you’re laughing at something he says. Another and his hand moves to your thigh. Another and he’s kissing you and then, as if you’ve lost all the control in your body, you let him take your virginity on a stranger’s bed.

That’s problem number one. Problem number two is that jaehyun is too sweet, too gentle. He treats you with a care that you don’t think you deserve. He calls you baby and swallows your moans with his tongue and you feel out of breath. It’s too much and all you need at the same time. You hate it.

Problem number three is that he texts you the next morning. You can’t even remember how he got your number in the first place, deciding to ignore it. You like being alone, it’s better like this.

☾

Winter hits hard this year and you curse yourself for not buying gloves as you walk down campus, your hands stuffed around your pockets. You try to walk as fast as you can, wanting to reach the heat of the classroom for surrealism and finally be able to feel your freezing hands again.

It hasn’t snowed yet, just low temperatures for now, making everyone wish that when it finally comes it’s so devastating that finals have to be cancelled. You pass a girl that you had class with last semester, avoiding her eyes and the possibility of a boring conversation about the weather.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you don’t have to see to know it’s Taeyong wanting to make sure you are not still in your bed. You didn’t really want to attend class today but if you skipped another time he would come beat at your door and force you outside. You take it off your pocket, your hand freezing just a little bit more, and text him a quick okay.

What happens next could’ve probably been avoided if you were paying attention to where you were going. But you’re not, so you bump right into the poor person that had the misfortune of being in your way.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry…” You start saying, cutting yourself short when you see who it is. With a little surprised look on his face, Jaehyun stands there looking at you and you pray to all the gods that he doesn’t remember just exactly who you are.

He does, of course. “_________.” He says, almost excitedly and smiles at you while fixing the beanie in his head. He looks like you remember him from last time, with the dimples and soft eyes.

“Hi.” Is your clever response because you have no idea what you should be saying to the boy that took your virginity. Who you then proceeded to ignore for a whole month. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah…” You wonder if this is as awkward for him as it is for you. You feel a cold breeze hit you and soon you’ll probably not feel your nose anymore. “You never replied to my texts, I kept wondering if I did something wrong.”

He looks nervous, biting on his bottom lip and shifting the weight from his legs from one foot to the other. You feel something in the pit of your stomach that is probably guilty. “You didn’t!” You say a little too loudly, hands moving as you speak. “I mean, I just got busy with projects, that’s why I never replied. I’m really sorry, you really didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Oh, okay then. That’s a relief.” He says, still looking nervous but more relieved now. “Did you manage to finish all of the projects?”

“Yes.” Why didn’t you lie, that’s what you should’ve done. Tell him that you would be busy for the rest of your life. “Just waiting for finals week.”

There’s a pause, like he’s pondering if he should say what he wants and you wait for the ground to swallow you whole, to end your suffering. Your phone vibrates again in your pocket, probably Taeyong cursing you for being late. You keep your eyes to the ground, avoiding his.

“I… we… maybe we can go out sometime, if you would like.” He tumbles over with his words, in a cute manner. “ I mean, since you’re not busy anymore.”

You’re stupid, that’s what you are. And you can’t say no to people, not when they have puppy eyes and are cute like Jung Jaehyun. So you say yes, promising you’ll reply to his texts this time when he sends you a day and place for the date.

You curse yourself and stupid Jung Jaehyun when you get to class, twenty minutes late, to the door already closed. You get in and try to walk in as silent as you can, keeping your head low until you get to your sit besides a very angry looking Taeyong.

“Why are you late?” He half whispers, half shouts, getting looks from the people sitting next to you but thankfully not the teacher, that continues to talk about René Magritte and his influences.

“Can you please keep quiet?” you whisper back, voice annoyed. “It’s not my fault Jung Jaehyun made me late.”

Taeyong looks at you like you just said the most scandalous thing in the world, ever the overreacter. “Jaehyun? As in that Jaehyun you completely ignored for a whole month?” The urge you have to hit your head on the table is overwhelming.

“Yes, exactly him.” You sigh, trying to focus on the teacher but you know for a fact you won’t be able until you spill out every single detail to your best friend.

“And?”

“I gave him a stupid excuse to why I never replied and guess what? He believed me and had the nerve to ask me on a date.” You get the words out as quickly and low as possible. “So now you have to help me get out of this mess without hurting the poor man.”

There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite pinpoint, maybe pity. Whatever it is, it irritates you a bit. “My sweet dear, _____. I’m not gonna help you ruin your chance of getting boned again.” He whispers, reaching out to hold your hands affectionately. “ And your chance of getting to know someone besides me.”

You met Taeyong on your freshman year at one of the introductory classes you had and from the moment he said something nice to you, you stuck to him like glue. He was sweet and caring enough to let you build yourself a little home of sorts inside his life and became your closest friend ever. You had made other friends of course but it was never that meaningful or that lasting.

“What? I know plenty of people beside you. I just talked to Jungwoo and Sicheng yesterd-.” You mutter under your breath.

“They don’t matter.” Taeyong cuts you off, dropping your hands from his hold. “You’re going to this date, even if I have to drag you there.”

All you can do is roll your eyes, muttering a “whatever” before you are turning to face the teacher and finally pay attention in class.

But it’s not like you can pay much attention to it, the numerous slides of surreal paintings and confusing european names forgotten by your overthinking of what will happen on friday.

Later, when you get a text from an unknown number with stupid emojis, the butterflies in your stomach go mad. You ignore them but reply to the text.

“Yeah, friday sounds great :-)”

☾

Friday comes in a blink.

You don’t see the time pass, with your many classes and finals studies keeping you busy. You could have said that you completely forgot about the date but Jaehyun kept texting you all week, keeping a nice conversation about anything that came to mind. He was nice, pleasant to talk to and funny in a lame way that entertained you to no end. It was unusual for you to be interested, almost excited, about talking to someone.

That doesn’t stop the dread that sets in your heart when friday night comes and Taeyong annoyingly texts you asking if you are already ready for the date. You are in fact, standing in front of your mirror with a frown with your face, the skirt feeling too alien and the makeup on your face feeling like too much, even though it’s barely nothing. You don’t know why exactly you’re putting so much effort in this, why you want so hard to impress Jaehyun when there’s no clear goal in your mind.

You’re late and your heart beats like crazy in your chest when you arrive at the café Jaehyun suggested. It’s a small thing that feels even smaller in the midst of your almost anxiety attack, it smells like coffee and something vanilla. You go cold when he spots you and waves for you to come over to the booth he got, you notice that there’s already two drinks on the table.

Your heart doesn’t calm down when you sit in front of him, or when he smiles at you, but you think you do a good job at hiding it when you mutter a low hello, sitting down in front of him. “I’m really sorry I’m late.”

“Oh, it’s okay! I didn’t wait for long.” He says, smiling bashfully and you feel the weight leave your shoulders a little. “I already ordered us drinks, I hope you like mochas. If not it’s totally okay, I can order something el-.”

“I like mochas, Jaehyun.” You interrupt him, smiling at the way he seems nervous. Almost as much as you are. You take the thought of how adorable he looks with his ears turning pink to the back of your head.

The date goes well, better than your overthinking self let you thought it would be. Jaehyun is nice and the talking go as easily as it did on texting, making your nerves calm down easily. You find out he’s getting a degree on chemistry, his eyes shining when he talks passionately about what he likes about it. He also says he’s a big fan of art too, naming all the mainstream artists and making you fond on how he’s trying to impress you even when he doesn’t have to.

The date goes so well that you accept to go on a second one, to watch a stupid horror movie that’s playing on the cinema near campus. When Jaehyun pretends he’s scared just to hold your hand, you let him. When he kisses you on the back of the empty theater, because according to him the movie is too boring, you let him.

On the third date, to a simple ice cream store, things go so well that he invites you over to his dorm room. You accept, for some reason, and when he presses you against his door the minute he shuts it close, you let him kiss you again.

Maybe this isn’t something you should be doing, but you couldn’t care less. You feel on cloud nine with the way Jaehyun is kissing you, with just the smallest desperation in it, like he’s been waiting a while to do this.

You move your hands to his neck when he deepens the kiss, his own hands holding you by the waist as close as possible to him. The low whine you let out when his tongue finally moves against yours is embarrassing but he doesn’t seem to mind a bit.

It’s nice, so nice that you don’t think much of it when he moves you around, his lips still on yours, until the back of your legs are hitting something hard and then you’re falling down on the softness of his mattress. Oh, your mind smartly provides but you don’t have the time now to overthink, not with Jaehyun kissing you. Now, with his body on top of yours, you get a lot warmer and the pace of the kiss slows down, Jaehyun sucking on your bottom lips and his hand lazily tracing patterns on your exposed hip.

When he breaks the kiss his breath is heavy and lips all swollen, a look that you probably mimic. He smiles at you in a way that’s too sweet for what you are doing, and, out of all things, that makes you blush slightly, smiling back at him. He looks beautiful like this, your mind dazedly provides, and you wish you could keep the image in your brain forever.

Not even a minute passes before he’s moving his head down to press small kisses on your exposed neck, innocent at first and then with more purpose. You shiver when his slight cold hand dips inside the warmth of your sweater, moan a little when he sucks on a spot that’s a little too sensitive, teeth grazing your skin in a way that’s too sinful.

Again, you don’t think much when he hikes your sweater up, letting it bunch just underneath your chest. Or when he presses kisses on your stomach, on the skin just below your belly button. You let your legs rub together, trying to get at least a bit of friction, hoping he won’t notice.

“Can i take these off?” He asks, hand already on the button of your jeans and all you do is dumbly nod. maybe you’re a bit naive, too inexperienced at this. He removes the pants with a little raise from your hips, throwing it gently somewhere in the room. You think what a sight you must be, with your sweater bunched on your chest and pink panties with cherries on it. There’s definitely a blush on your face now.

You try to press your legs together on instinct when he presses a kiss just inside your thigh but he doesn’t let you, hands gripping at them and making you keep them open. He continues doing as he pleases, sucking on the soft skin and biting little marks on your thighs. It isn’t until he moves to remove your panties that your hearts starts beating a little more fast. “W-What are you doing?” You ask dumbly.

“Huh?” He looks up at you, a confused look on his eyes and both lips and ears a cute pink shade. “Gonna eat you out, is that okay?”

“I, what? Why?” You mumble, words getting lost together on how nervous you suddenly are. You didn’t expect jaehyun to eat you out on your third date. Or ever. The mere thought of it making yours cheeks warm. You always thought of it as something too intimate, even too dirty, definitely not something a boy would be offering you so willingly. “You don’t have to, Jaehyun.”

He looks at you like you’re talking nonsense. “I want to.” Is what he simply replies with, thumb playing with the hem of the infamous panties. “Can i?”

You think you’re going to explode from how embarrassed you are. You nod bashfully, taking a deep breath and turning your face to the side so you don’t have to face him when you say the quietest yes ever. You miss the silly smile on his lips but not the way he whispers a little “cute”, making your cheeks heat impossibly more.

He removes your panties then, placing them neatly on the side of the bed before he’s moving between your legs again. Just the proximity of him is enough to have your heart racing with anticipation.

In an almost lovingly way he kisses your clit, making you shift a little. He holds your legs open, fingers drawing soothing patterns on your thigh. You have no time to overthink it because in no time his tongue is licking you in a kitten like way before he let’s his tongue fall flat on your entrance, gathering the wetness there and dragging it up to your clit. He eats you out like he has done this many time before and it turns you into a mess very quickly.

You moan out his name loudly when he sucks on just right, your hands gripping at the sheets. You don’t even feel embarrassed by the noises you’re makings, too overwhelmed by the heat that pools in your lower abdomen.

You feel his hand move against where your is gripping the sheets and for a moment you think he wants to hold hands. But he takes your hand in his and brings it to his head and oh, you finally realize it, he wants you to grip hair. So you do, and the way he hums approvingly sends waves of pleasure all through your body.

You come easily, your whole body shaking and he doesn’t stop his movements until you’re whining from the over stimulation. When he looks up you almost die from the way his lips are shiny and how your wetness smears his chin. It’s sinful and dirty but you still let him kiss you senseless.

You must be feeling brave after your orgasm because you move your arm in between your bodies until you’re palming him through his pants. He breaks the kiss, moaning lowly against your lips and it has to be the hottest thing you have ever experienced in your life. You want to hear it again and again.

You move uncertainty, stroking him over the thick fabric of his jeans and watching as his eyes flutter close. “Baby…” He almost whines. “Please.”

“I-I’ve never done this before.” You mumble, seeking for his eyes and he laughs softly. ”You gotta teach me.”

Your words seem to affect him a bit and he quickly moves to undo his zipper, pushing his pants and boxers down in one swift motions. His shirt goes next.

You don’t remember much from the night jaehyun took your virginity, but you do remember that he had a pretty dick. If such a thing even exists. You keep your eyes on it until he’s back on top of you, lips meeting yours briefly before he’s taking your hand and moving it on top of his on his erection.

He shows you how he likes it, stroking his length in quick motions and when you get the grip of it he lets his hand fall to the sides of your head, supporting himself. It’s mesmerizing the way he groans when you run your thumb on his head, spreading pre come on his length so the slide of your hand is easier. “Faster, baby.” He says, pressing a kiss to the side of your face, and you obligate.

Maybe it’s the confidence the sounds he makes gives you. Or the impulsiveness you’re feeling rushing through your body. But you stop your motions and start moving around until you’re positioned between his legs, your face so close to his dick you are sure he can feel your deep breaths. “I want to try something.” You simply say.

“No, baby. You don’t have to.” He says gently bringing his hand to your cheek, thumb caressing it. You pout.

“But i want to.” Is what you reply with and he doesn’t have the strength to counterpoint that, hand moving to your hair still gently and bringing your face so close to his dick that your lips touch it slightly.

You try to remember what you saw on porn and let spit gather on your mouth before you’re letting in fall on him, hand moving quickly to spread it. “Oh fuck.” His voice is raspy and you’re sure you’re clenching around nothing right now. “You’re so dirty, where did you learn this?”

You just blush, looking at him with a look that will be forever engraved in his mind. He looks at you like he wants to ruin you. You would let him, of course.

You try to get as much of him in your mouth without gagging, which is not much, using your hands on the parts you can’t. It’s probably far from the best head he ever received, you’re too messy and uncoordinated, but he seems to enjoy it. He moans the way you like so much and praises you in ways that make your cheeks heat and your heart flutter. He moves your head when he starts to come, letting it fall on your face and just a bit on your open mouth, the taste making your eyebrows furrow.

He’s sweet after, cleaning your face and still showering you with praise you don’t think you deserve.

You don’t overthink it when he cuddles you and asks you to stay the night. Or when you wake up the next morning and think that you wouldn’t mind waking up to his parted lips and messy hair everyday.

☾

You assume it’s the natural thing to happen, there’s no discussion to it and it makes you feel a bit of anxiety pool in the pit of your stomach. You’re confused and freaking out because maybe you’re not ready for this and maybe you’re not ready. It always scares you when things move too fast and now you’re seeing Jaehyun almost everyday. And when he kisses it’s not as meaningless as it used to be. You feel on the verge of panic.

Taeyong assures you it’s going to be okay, that you can’t have control of things all the time like you want. Sometimes you should let it happen as it goes. So you do that and when Jaehyun kisses you, you kiss him back with as many meaning as you can give it.

Weekend dates turn into nights spent at his dorm, then you’re doing everyday things with him. There’s something strangely comfortably and personal about going grocery shopping with someone while they hold your hand.

After one month of something that it’s quite undefined, Jaehyun introduces you to his friends and calls you his girlfriend in front of all of them. One of them, Johnny smiles and says it’s nice to finally meet the girl Jaehyun talks about for hours non ending. The flowers in your stomach bloom so uncontrollably that the fear of how big this whole thing is for you is forgotten for a moment.

You’re not good with relationships, of any sort. Being alone has taught you a lot of things but how to be with another person is not one of them. You move uncertain, scared of doing the wrong thing and getting hurt. Or the last thing you would want in this world, to hurt Jaehyun.

He’s so patient, asking you all the time if there’s something wrong and holding your hand tightly when you seem nervous about something. He kisses your worries away, not even bothering when you sometimes get a bit distant, take too long to reply. You don’t feel like you deserve any of that.

On the nights you spend alone the feeling of loneliness is not as comfortable as it used to be. It’s like Jaehyun has engraved himself in every part of your life, trying to fit in inside every empty spot you had. When you close your eyes he’s right there behind your eyelids and his perfume is everywhere. You let yourself melt into it.

You don’t know if it’s normal to feel like this, the only other romantic experience being a puppy love years ago. You wonder if the thoughts of Jaehyun that roam your mind and warm your heart are normal, wonder if you’re supposed to feel butterflies in your stomach everytime you see him even after months of dating. For a minute you let yourself think that maybe, if soulmates were real, then Jaehyun was yours. Something meant to happen, that’s how you feel when he looks at you.

You hope he feels the same way. There’s no way your heart can take it if he doesn’t.

☾

On one normal saturday morning, when you and Jaehyun are out buying groceries, he asks you to dye his hair for him.

He has stopped in the beauty aisle, eyeing all the products, examining the different boxes and colors, when he throws the proposition at you. “You’re an artist.” he reasons, when you look at him like he’s crazy. “So that makes you the only person I trust to do this.”

You sigh, standing in your tip toes so you can look at the products too over his shoulders. “I’m not a hair artist.” You mutter. “What if I fuck your hair up and you end up bald?”

He finally decides on the brand he thinks is more trustable, throwing the box in the small shopping cart. “I wouldn’t mind being bald that much.” There’s a playful smile on his lips when he turns to look at you and it makes you snort. “Would you?”

“Would I mind you being bald? Yeah, probably.” He has the nerve to pout, arms pulling you closer in a hug. Deciding to entertain him you press a quick peck to his lips, blushing when notice there’s an old lady just walking in the aisle you are.

He notices you embarrassament, not letting you get out from his embrace when you try to and moving his face close to yours in attempts to kiss you again. The lady looks like she finds the scene adorable. “Maybe I’ll make you bald on purpose.” You bite at him and that just makes him laugh out loud.

Later Jaehyun sits patiently on a chair in the middle of your tiny dorm room, rolling through his instagram as you apply the bleaching powder on his hair. The smell is awful even with the bit of your window open. “Does it burn?” You ask him. “I read somewhere online it’s supposed to.”

“A little, yeah.” He replies, looking up at you and throwing a cute smile. You show him your tongue. “But it’s not like, unbearable. Don’t worry, baby.”

You hum, examining his hair to see if you didn’t miss any parts. You’re sure he’s trying to show you a brave façade because there’s no way something this white and smelling this bad is not burning his scalp to hell. “Now we only gotta wait like 20 minutes, I think.” It’s late afternoon now, you notice when you check your phone after removing the protective gloves and throwing it in the ground.

“If we finish before it gets dark we could go get ice cream.” He suggests, making you nod enthusiastically. Your weekends usually went like this, going out to eat something together, sometimes watching a movie and then coming back to either of your dorms. You liked it.

While you wait for the minutes to pass you decide to put on music to play, something from an r&b playlist that Jaehyun likes, and you smile when he sings along. He shows you random videos on his phone every now and then but besides that it’s just comfortable silence or talking about how your week went. He pretends to understand when you go on about a new painting technique and you pretend to understand when he talks about the experiment he did on class.

Your alarm goes off, signalling that the 20 minutes have passed. “Do you think it’s done already?” Jaehyun uses the small mirror on your wall to examine the hair, it’s considerably more light and it doesn’t seem to be falling off.

“Yeah. It doesn’t have to be like, stark white.” You grab a towel from you drawer, moving to your bathroom with Jaehyun following behind.

Washing his hair in the sink proves to be a difficult job, even more because your bathroom was definitely not made to fit more than one person inside. But you make do, with water splashing everywhere because he keeps giggling and moving around too much. When all the bleaching is removed Jaehyun stares at you with very blonde hair that for some weird reason looks really good on him. “Maybe I should just keep it like this.” He says, bending his knees down just a little so you can reach his head to dry it.

“It wouldn’t be that bad.” You reply, admiring how cute he looks with his hair sticking up everywhere. “But the hair dye was too expensive.”

He hums, moving back to normal now that you’ve finished drying his hair. He circles his arms around your waist and keeps staring at you for longer than necessary. “What?” You hit his chest playfully, feeling shy from his stare.

“You’re just too pretty, is all.” His words make your cheeks heat up. It’s like he has the special power of always turning you into an embarrassed mess with just a few words. “And I love you.”

The butterflies in your stomach go wild, your chest feeling like there’s no space for breathing. It’s almost painful and you could cry, but you don’t. It’s the first time he has ever said it out loud like this, and so sincere. You had figured, of course, by the way he looks at you and how he makes love to you oh, so gently.

The only reply you can give him is the press of your lips to his, sweet and slow, and it seems to do. He sighs into the kiss, trying to deepen it but you don’t let him, breaking it and smiling at the way his eyes have stars on it. “Come on, we have to dye your hair pink.”

It takes another hour for you to get the dye on every part of Jaehyun hair, getting distracted here and there because he keeps cracking stupid jokes and trying to convince you to dye yours green so you two could be like Cosmo and Wanda. Afterwards, when you stare at Jaehyun in all his glory with the pastel pink hair you feel your heart swoons. It suits him perfectly, like the color pink was invented for him and no one else. The way he blushes when you tell him just how pretty he looks just makes the whole thing better.

You finish just in time to watch the sunset as you two make your way to the small and cozy ice cream shop down the street. You feel content with Jaehyun’s hand in yours, even if the way your coat matches his hair makes people that pass by you stare weirdly.

“Here you go, baby.” He says, handing you your ice cream and sitting down at the table you got inside of the store. “Cookies and dark chocolate, your favorite.”

You thank him, a smile on your face. It’s such a small thing, to remember someone’s favorite ice cream flavors, but it makes your heart jump happily in your chest. You watch as he takes a spoonful of his own choice, pistachio and vanilla, and it dawns on you that you love him. You had thought about it before, of course, but right now you’re so filled with infatuation for the man before you that you would like to scream to him the words that he said earlier.

He gets you out of your little daze by moving to wipe your hand with a napkin. “Stop staring at me, your ice cream is melting.” He scolds but with no harshness to his voice. “You’re like a little baby I have to take care of.”

You show him your tongue playfully. “Still, you love me.” Your next words are impulsive, something unlike you in many ways, but they just fall out your lips like they can’t be unsaid anymore. “And… I love you too.”

He smiles, lips slightly smeared with ice cream and leans in on the table to kiss you, almost getting ice cream all over his sweater. His lips taste like pistachio and it’s perfect.

Later when you two are walking back to his dorm you ask him if he believes in souls.

He looks at you a little confused. “Maybe?” Is his reply. “I don’t know, why?”

You swing your connected hands a little, pondering on how you should say what you want to, not wanting him to think you’re weird or delusional. “Because I have this feeling that… well, that our souls are somehow connected?” You say stumbling a little over your words, voice uncertain. “Like maybe we were supposed to meet, you know?”

He smiles like he finds the whole thing amusing. “Are you trying to say we are soulmates?”

You blush, nodding and he stops midway, making you stop too. “You’re probably right.” Is the only thing he says before spinning you in his arms and kissing you lovingly. You can’t hide the smile that spreads on your face.

☾

Jaehyun is always gentle, even when he doesn’t have to be.

You two had a nice date, something fancy for once at an italian restaurant that opened recently. By the end of the night you’re tipsy from the wine you shared and a little too touchy towards him.

You think the lingerie with shyly put on for him would stir something, make him lose control but it’s the same as always. He eats you out, like it’s his favorite thing in the world, and after he has made you come he enters you with a little moan coming from his mouth. He fucks you slowly and with care, vanilla almost. And you love it, you do, the way he bites your neck a little as he thrusts into you in a pace that drives you crazy. But you want more, want him to fuck you like he’s desperate and crazy for it. Wants him to hurt you in ways that make your eyes roll.

“Jae, please” You whine against his mouth. You don’t want to feel delicate, don’t want to feel like this means something to him. You want him to fuck you so fast that you forget that you feel something, you want numbness and complete bliss.You want to forget the way your heart blooms in your chest when he looks at you like he is right now. “Y-You can fuck me harder.”

He makes a little sounds that it’s half a groan and half a confused noise. “Yeah?” He asks like he wants to be sure and when you nod he presses his lips to your in a bruising kiss. He thrusts one more time slowly and then he’s picking up the pace, fucking into you fast and deep like you had wanted so many times.

It makes you scream, hands grabbing at his shoulders with the same force he’s gripping at your thighs. “Yes, yes.” He seems just as affected, grunting and groaning just beside your ears. “Want you to ruin me.”

It does something to him, his hips snapping with as much force as possible and he moans so pretty you clench around him. “You’re going to fucking kill me, baby.” He whispers, thumb coming to your lower lips and you let your mouth fall open, letting him press it flat on your tongue and you suck it like you’re trying to put on a show for him. “You’re so dirty for me, aren’t you? You look like an angel but you’ll let me fuck you like this.”

You never thought he could say things like this. Your eyes flutter close and all you can do is nod, lips still around his finger as he fucks you so deep you’re seeing stars.

It’s very easy to fall into a delirious headspace, with the way Jaehyun is doing exactly what you asked him to. It’s exciting to see him lose control like this. “You like it, baby?” He asks, removing his finger from your mouth so you can finally speak. “Hmm? Like being fucked like this?”

Just then he thrusts in a spot that has you clenching around him and throwing your head back in the pillow. “Y-Yes, please.” You moan desperately, feeling your orgasm closer with each of his thrusts. “I’m so close, oh my god.”

You can feel the sweet relief in the pit of your stomach and when Jaehyun presses his thumb on your clit, circling in pace with his thrusts, you explode. It’s heaven and heat thrumming to your veins as you clench so hard around him that his hips stutter and he grips your thighs harder.

“Fuck, fuck.” He curses, closing his eyes as you ride the last waves of your orgasm. “I’m gonna fill you up so well, Baby, you want that?”

You can even reply properly, giving him a weak nod and clenching around him again so he’s moaning your name loudly, hips stuttering as he comes inside of you.

Afterwards he’s back to he’s delicate self, treating you with so much care that’s it’s like he feels he has tainted something precious. He cleans the come that starts to drip off you and you tell him how much you liked the whole thing. His ears turn red when he says he liked it as well.

☾

You don’t like parties, never had. too loud and too many people but Jaehyun seems to love all that.

Every friday he tried his best to convince you to attend one of his friend’s get together, telling you how fun it would be and that he would be by your side the whole time. You say yes, more because of the second reason than the first one.

The party it’s not that bad, not at all. There’s not too many people and Jaehyun’s friends are nice, so nice that you even dance a little with some of them. After many and many shots of the red liquid they keep giving you, it’s sweet enough that you don’t think much when you down all of them.

Once upon a time, on your first ever college party, Taeyong had introduced you to a thing called pure vodka. You were never much of a drinker before so you don’t know exactly why you get so carried on with it, ignoring the burning on your throat as you down shot after shot.

Knowing you would drink that night you had decided to not take your anxiety medication, mistake number two. It all happened very slowly, like in a movie almost. You began getting tipsy and too happy, dragging Taeyong around and laughing with him. Next thing you knew your heart felt like it was trying to escape your chest with how fast it started beating. It was the worst panic attack you ever had, crying you little heart out because no one knew how to help you. You don’t remember how the night ended.

You should’ve remembered that occurrence as you take your fifth shot,Jaehyun keeping you close with a hand around your waist. “Slow down, baby.” He says, moving your hair out of your face.

You kiss him once, twice and then you’re giggling stupidly. He seems amused by it all. “I’m okay, Jaejae.” He laughs at the silly nickname.

You have a good time, you really do. Dancing with Jaehyun and laughing with his friends until you feel the tightness on your chest. Like you had suddenly gotten the soul sucked out of your body, you feel an emptiness that you’re too familiar with. Your eyes start welling up as the world around you spins and spins. Jaehyun is beside you, talking excitedly to one of his friends and you grip tightly at his shirt. You really don’t want to bother him, not when he seems to be so happy, but you feel it getting worse and worse and the panic settling in the pit of your heart.

“Jaehyun, can you please take me home?” You say quietly so no one else will hear it. The knot in your stomach keeps getting tighter and the last thing you want is to cry in front of a whole party.

His face changes immediately, worry all over his features and he searches your eyes for any signs. “Why? What’s wrong, baby?”

You just whine, childish and pathetic. “Please, can we just go?” You wish with all your body that you weren’t doing this right now, ruining his night like this.

He just nods, guiding you outside the party and into his car. It doesn’t take long for the tears to come, Jaehyun glancing at you every few seconds and it just makes you cry even more. “Baby, you gotta tell me what’s wrong.” He coos, hand coming to massage your thigh in a soothing way. You just shake your head, lowering it so you hair hides your face from his view. “Did something happen?” His voice is filled with worry.

You shake your head again, feeling the dizziness from the alcohol when you do.

When you get to his dorm you immediately try to move to his bed, want to hide there forever and feel safe in the warmth of it, but he doesn’t let you. He wraps you in his arms, hand stroking your hair and it only makes you cry more, hiding your face in his chest and probably getting his shirt all dirty. “Come on, baby.” He whispers as if to not disturb you. “After we clean you up you can lay down.”

He takes you to the bathroom, turning on the shower on a hot temperature and then starts undressing you with all the patient in this world. It’s not weird and he doesn’t seem bothered to be nursing you like you can’t possibly take care of yourself. You probably look a mess, makeup smeared and face swollen from all the crying. The world around you still spins a little.

You whine when the water hits your body and Jaehyun only sushes you, removing his smeared t-shirt so he can get inside the box with you. You fall putty in his arms as he tries his best to wash you, massaging your hair with care. You feel awful for doing this to him, when you don’t deserve half of it. You don’t deserve the way he cares for you or how treats you with such delicacy. You just ruined his whole night. “I’m… I’m so sorry.” You mumble incoherently, tears forming in your eyes again.

“No, no, baby. Don’t cry.” He says but it’s useless, the tears are already mixing with the water as they fall down your cheeks. “Tell me what’s wrong, please.”

You start talking about how you’re a mess and awful, that you doesn’t deserve him and how you’re going to ruin his life because that’s what you do with everything around your life. Your words are slurred and you can’t stop crying anymore, weeping sounds coming out of your mouth and Jaehyun just holds you like the perfect man he is. “Shh, ___.” His hand rubs your back soothingly, getting himself all wet but he couldn't care less. “You’re none of these things and you’re not going to ruin anything.”

“I am!” You want to argue but he doesn’t let you, just hugs you tighter and whispers calming words until you stop moving around.

Afterwards, when he dries you both up and puts you on comfortable clothes, he takes you to bed and cuddles you. “I love you, ___. There’s nothing wrong with you.” He says and if you weren’t too numb now you would cry again. Your head starts to ache and you can feel yourself drifting off asleep.

☾

Things go downhill from there.

You get as distant as possible from everyone around you and there are days that you wake up and not a single part of your body wants to be alive. You skip class and don’t even mind when Taeyong sends angry texts scolding you.

You spend your days sleeping and painting, making good use of the strange inspiration you get whenever you have bad days. You’re used to this, have experienced it many times before, and that’s probably a bad sign. But even if it’s normal you’re still not the best at dealing with with, acting like it’s the end of the world whenever it gets bad.

Jaehyun texts you and you try to your best to reply and make up excuses to why he can’t come see you. He probably knows something is wrong but you don’t want to tell him that some days you wake up and you don’t find the strength to even wash your own hair. Don’t want to tell you that sometimes you close your eyes and think that the world would probably be better off without you. You don’t wanna upset him, not more than you already are.

Taeyong visits on a rainy day, almost slamming your door with how much he knocks. He looks angry when you open the door but his eyes often as he sees you, hair messy and wearing a hoodie that has too many paint splashes. You’re not feeling as empty as the start of the week, your heart warming up when you see him.

He hugs you for a good minute, before he’s looking at you with a furrow between his brows. “Let’s wash this hair, okay?” He says and you can’t help but smile a little.

You let him wash your hair in your tiny shower while you’re only on your underwear. It’s not weird or uncomfortable, never is with Taeyong. He massages your scalp while he tells you what you missed from class, you don’t pay so much attention to the artist names but his voice feels comfortable.

“Jaehyun has been asking about you like crazy.” He says with care when he’s drying your hair afterwards. You feel a pang of guilty in your chest and your eyes get glossy from unshed tears. “He’s very worried.”

“I have texted him that I was not feeling very well.” You say, voice small and Taeyong just tsks.

“You can’t just text your boyfriend that and expect him to not be worried sick about you.”

You bite your lips, your thoughts going a mess and you just want to hide in the safety of your bed again. “Maybe I should just break up with him.” You say, heart heavy in your chest. That’s not what you want. Taeyong knows that and he raises one eyebrow. As much as you try to pretend you would be okay if it happened, leaving Jaehyun would destroy you completely.

“You keep acting like you’re not worthy things as simple as a boys attention. You didn’t force Jaehyun into your life, he’s into it because he wants to, because he loves you.” Taeyong says and each words stabs a wound deeper in your chest. “You got so comfortable being lonely that you can get your head around the fact you don’t have to be alone for the rest of your life.”

You don’t notice that you start crying, never dealing too well with the truth being told directly to your face. Everyone was always so hesitant around you, being extra careful with their words as if to not hurt you. Taeyong doesn’t care about that, he tells you things how they are and he will gladly hurt your feelings if it means it’ll snap you out of whatever daze you got yourself in.

“One day you will wake up feeling miserable because you let a good thing go. Jaehyun knows you’re not perfect, he has seen you in some pretty fucked up days and he decided to stay. Give up control for once and let him decide if you’re not good for him like you think so.”

When he leaves you lay down and think of Jaehyun. Simply, you think of him, without you. You think of how his ears turn red when gets shy, how his dimples get so deep when he smiles. You think of how happy he got on his birthday because of the surprise party you threw for him with his friends. You think about the look in his eyes whenever he’s talking about or doing something he’s passionate about. You think about the time you both saw an abandoned kitten at the street and he almost cried because he couldn’t take it home.

Then you think about him with you. How he will go out of his way when you’re on your period and craving something sweet. How he looks at you like you put the stars in the sky and how he kisses you with so much care that it makes you feel like floating. You think of the time he spent hours in the phone with your mom talking about her flowers like he knew or cared a lot about the subject, just because he wanted to impress her. Of the times he’ll watch you paint in silence just because, in his words, it’s so mesmerizing. Think of every time he has made you feel special and every little thing he does everyday to show you he loves you, the little emojis and texts, the random kisses. Everything.

You try to think of living a life where Jaehyun is not by your side and when you do your heart feels like it shatters. You could live without him of course, but the thing is, you don’t want to.

You get up suddenly, changing as quickly as possible as walking until you’re on Jaehyun’s dorm front door. It’s a little stupid because you don’t even know if he’s home right now and you stand there, your heart beating a little fast after you knock.

“Hi.” Is what you smartly says and he smiles sadly at you. “Can I come inside?”

He steps outside and lets you in, there’s a few books opened on his bed and you realize that you probably just disturbed his studying. “I’m sorry, were you busy?”

He shakes his head, pushing the books aside and sitting on his bed, patting the empty spot beside him so you’ll sit too. You bask in the warmth of being close to him. “Not really.” Is all he says.

You hum, eyeing him and feeling your heartbeat go a little faster. You hate talking about your feelings, can feel your cheeks heat up from just the thought of it and you really hope you don’t end up crying in front of Jaehyun again.” I just came to apologize for isolating myself and not giving you an explanation.” You murmur eyes not meeting his. “And I know i’ve said that I don’t think I deserve you, and I really don’t, but I want you. So bad it scares me.”

When he doesn’t reply right away you start saying that you would completely understand if he wanted to breakup, your heart breaking a little, until he starts laughing. When you look up he’s staring at you like you’re crazy but there’s still fondness in his eyes. “You’re so silly. You really think I would want to breakup?” He grabs you by the arm and pulls you into a hug that almost suffocates you. Still, you let yourself fall into his arm and enjoy the feeling of being safe. “I love you so much, but you can’t just disappear and not tell me what’s going on. Do you know how many Frank Ocean songs I listened to while thinking of you?”

You scoff, hiding deeper into his chest and loving the way it vibrates when he laughs. “I’m really sorry.” Your words are muffled by his sweater.

“It’s okay, baby.” He pats your head sweetly. “But you need to realize that I don’t care that you are a little messed up, I am too. And I’m here when you feel like life is not going very well. I want to be here and take care of you.”

You look up to his face, examining the slight stubble that’s forming on his chin. “Are you sure? I can be a lot to deal with.”

He smiles, with his dimples showing. “I’m aware, and I think I can handle it.”

When he kisses you it’s like a weight leaves your shoulders. You’ll embrace loneliness when it decides to come again but for now you let Jaehyun fill the empty spaces like he was made just for it.

#jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun smut #nct smut #nct scenario #nct scenarios #neowritingsnet #another big fic lmao in less than a week #but i wanted to post this quickly since im probably not gonna post much for now #gotta focus on my thesis #but yeahh hope this is good

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theartoflivingalways · 4 years

Text

i’ve been awake for over 24 hours

I haven’t been on tumblr in years. i stopped using it after high school, but I don’t know why. but now I’m back tonight, because I needed someone to talk to, but I have no one to listen. i have friends, i have family, i have a boyfriend. i have a therapist. but no matter what: i feel so unheard, so unseen, and so ignored by everyone in my life that i literally feel like i have no one to truly turn to. for anything. so, here i am. hope i get a warm welcome!!!

here’s the thing: i’m NOT a depressed person. i’m not sad, i don’t have any major mental health issues apart from anxiety and some adhd. and before you take that the wrong way, please don’t. i just got my master’s degree in social work and i’ll be starting my new job as a therapist in a couple of weeks.

but, i’m also NOT a happy person. tbh, i can’t really describe my overall ~mood~ or whatever you wanna call it. i kinda just wake up and survive the day, every day. i take it one day at a time ... kinda like what AA says to do; but no, before you ask or the thought crosses your mind, i’m not an addict. at least not a alcohol/other drugs addict ??? sorry

maybe this is why there’s no one to listen when i need them to. i fucking ramble about literally nothing before getting to the point.

it’s weird that i’m writing right now (ok, typing???). i haven’t done this since i was little. it feels good to do this, to have some sort of outlet when you feel so fucking unseen and unheard by every. single. person. around you.

so i haven’t slept in over 24 hours. it’s my own fault for sure and i have adderall to thank for that (yes i’m prescribed). i decided to start a blog again because i’m sitting here, still wide awake in my apartment, alone, while my boyfriend is sound asleep in my bedroom.

so what’s my fucking problem??? why do i want someone to talk to?? i don’t know honestly. i just feel like lately all i do is listen to others, help others, give myself completely to others. and in return, i get nothing. nothing even close to what i give, or to what i’m capable of giving. which is sad. not for me particularly (maybe?), but for others, yes, i think so.

i’m not saying that i expect anything in return for helping others, because i don’t. i didn’t enter the field of social work for the fucking money. and i know a lot of fucked up shit is going on in the world right now, and in no way do i want to minimize ANY of that. i’m just feeling a little lost and lonely, so i’m hoping this is a new outlet for me to sort out those feelings.

the last couple of hours, i’ve had a LONG string of thoughts. if you read through, you’ll eventually found out how they started. but one of the things i’ve been wrestling with in my mind is the type of person i am.

you see, it’s difficult to be “that” person for others your whole life, especially all the fucking time. if you’re anything like me, you know what i mean by that. and if you aren’t anything like me, well, first of all congrats!!!!, and secondly, i’ll explain what i mean.

when you’re “that” person for others, like myself, it’s easy for other people to walk all over you. take advantage of you, take you for granted, expect you to ALWAYS be there no matter the cost. and of course, why wouldn’t they? you’re always there to help. you’re ALWAYS there to offer support, guidance, and advice. you’re nurturing. you listen. you’re a fucking irreplaceable, loyal to death friend. if you’re VERY much like me, you’re also the one person in your family who isn’t a total fuck up (at least not publicly?)

you’re also nonjudgmental, and you were blessed with the curse of being empathic towards others at all times. empathy of course is beautiful and a very good thing to have in this life, but do you know how hard it is to feel for every single person around you.. and not have anyone feel for you???? damn

also, you never let anyone down!! ever. you’re reliable, dependable, trustworthy to the point where it’s almost sketchy because like??? who can be that way to everyone else at all times? you guessed it- people like me and people like u!! (if this is even semi-relatable, i’m sorry)

but people like us, like you, like me, tend to do this thing where we keep the same shitty fucking toxic people around that have hurt us, continue to hurt us both indirectly and directly, and who have let us down time and time again, because we continue clinging on to the fucking useless hope that “someday they’ll change”. someday, they’ll realize how fucking important you are to them and how shitty their lives are, and would be, without you in it.

you- we - also live by honesty and truthfulness, and assume others just live by this as well. but then you’re proved wrong over and over and over again, yet you never fucking learn your lesson because you are STILL hopeful that somewhere, somehow, deep down, other people DO stand by the morals you try so hard to stand by in life. most of the time, though, you’re completely avoiding the reality of other people and their experiences and who they really are, only to try to fit your own narrative of how you see things and how you think things should be.

if this sounds anything like you... i’m sorry. i know it all too well.

i grew up as the “golden child” in my family. not just my immediate family. my entire fucking family. the pressure to be perfect has lead me to develop debilitating anxiety in my 20′s, and it is what it is, but like, why the fuck couldn’t i have anxiety in high school like a normal teenager? why now?

so yeah my anxiety’s pretty bad. it’s pretty bad tonight, which is why i turned here. to tumblr. to try to write out my thoughts. which, by the way, i’m sorry, because this is an absolute fucking mess and makes no sense. if you are reading this, though, thank you. thank you for listening when no one else seems to.

anyway. growing up with the pressure of being *perfect* has a cost. at least for me it did: 1) anxiety of course, and 2) perfectionist tendencies. these have literally- LITERALLY - ruined my entire college and graduate school experience. perfectionism combined with anxiety is a recipe for fucking disaster, and i’ve been cooking it for years.

i am deliberately writing this without proper punctuation/grammer/whateverthefuckyouwanttocallit, not capitalizing my letters etc., because i want to not have to be so perfect all the time on here, if this is something i’m going to stick to. i know that sounds silly but it’s actually been very difficult for me to write in all lower-caps and i’m very worried that no one will even read this and HEAR ME because of my literacy negligence (i have no idea if that’s even a real thing or if it even has meaning but it sounded right)

do u want to know why i decided to write this though, truly? what lead to me feeling like i’m “spiraling” - apart from no sleep in over 24 hours now? well, get ready to laugh, because i truly think i’m pathetic and going crazy.

i went to dinner tonight with my boyfriend and his fam. our waitress was a girl i used to know years ago in high school. my boyfriend knew her too. in fact, he knew her VeRY well. for the sake of my anxious overthinking, i don’t feel like going too much into the details of *that* situation, so thanks in advance for understanding.

anyway. this corny bitch made a joke about the current political environment. i won’t say what exactly, because i’d really like to keep my identity as concealed as absolutely possible on here. but long story short, no one really laughed - every one just kinda smiled awkwardly. but you know who did laugh? my boyfriend :)

TO ME, it seemed intentional. she wasn’t fucking funny, for one. she made a bad - no, a very bad- joke. like one of those corny dad jokes. not even a dad joke actually. a step-dad joke, except your step-dad is a loser that you hate, who treats ur mom/dad bad, has no sense of humor or a horrible sense of humor and idk, just fucking sucks you know ???

sorry that got kinda dark and it was unnecessary but do u know what i mean??? and no, that was literally not relevant to me or my family system/structure in any way. just kinda came to me, ya know? ...writing works in mysterious ways man

alright so if you don’t agree, that’s fine. i already told you to get ready to laugh, because i am well aware of how insane i fucking sound. but you know what makes anxiety & perfectionism 100x harder to cope with? insecurities. and i’m FULL of them.

so anyway. we left dinner. him & i were driving home. i will admit that i did have some wine at dinner, and i wasn’t drunk but i definitely was feeling cocky enough to stir the pot with him. so, i casually said, “hey... didn’t you date _____?” *insert annoying waitress’s name who i knew once upon a time*

i said it very calmly. very coooool. v collected and nice. he said “no? i’ve never even talked to or hungout with that girl”.

i wish u could see my face as i’m writing this right now bc i cannnot. like i gave u a choice.... the opportunity. tHE SIMPLE opportunity - a chance - to be fucking honest................................

this dude. straight up. lied to my face. about this fucking girl. ???????

YEARS AGO, they most certainly did talk. a lot. in fact, my crAZy ass searched their names on facebook to find their old little love notes to each other that they posted on each others’ walls. which were very cringey but nothing that made me feel jealous or insecure (for once). after all, they were from years ago- i’m talking 5+ - so likeeee.... why would he lie (:

oh and they definitely did hang out because.... i remember clearly.... a PICTURE OF THE two of them *together* *hangin* (prob bangin too) (sorry) years ago in this now-waitress’s bedroom. i believe it was a ~webcam photo~ that they took on the new mac computer her parents prob bought her. so this photo is now NO WHERE to be found. and believe me, i looked. no, i LURKED. i went to the beginnnning of her instagram posts and deep into her uploaded facebook pictures. ok, not ‘deep’, i literally got to the first pic she ever posted on FB just to try to find this damn picture. and it took me for. fucking. ever. because this bitch has prolly posted a million pictures in the last 5+ years like who does that???

but i swear to fucking whatever the fuck that this picture exists. i have fucking seen it. i’d describe it in perfect detail right now as if i saw it today, but, once again, i’m concealin my identity, yo, so i can’t do all that. v sorry

anywho. this dude - who i call my boyfriend (and yes i love him very very much and our past is absolutely fucked but that’s a whole other story for a very different time) - had the nerve, the audacity, to tell me to my face, that he “definitely doesn’t have a picture with her” because “they’ve never hung out or talked before” ... ?!??????

obv i sent him screenshots of the dirt i dug up on facebook from 5+ years ago (i.e., the old posts between them in case ya forgot during my rambling) bc like, caught ya in a lie sir. red handed.

i might be late on mentioning this part, but here’s the fucking kicker (and i’ve never used that phrase and i don’t know why i said that but ok?): TODAY, for the first time in MONTHS, literally!!!, bc of the virus and the quarantine and all that, i got ready today for dinner with his family. like actually got ready. i spent HOURS doing my make up. i don’t even remember the last time i did my make up, ok. i dressed in a really cute outfit. i felt fucking very good about myself. i thought for sure when he’d come pick me up to go to dinner he’d at least say something. at least acknowledge it. he has literally only seen me in raw form for too many days now. like, complete bare face and sweat pants basically every day since march.

but. did he even look at me twice?!!? no. did he mention anything about how i looked? how it was drastically different from my everyday attire the last couple months? did he take 2 seconds out of his day to say something corny or flirty to me? even just, “you look beautiful”??? honestly i would’ve even appreciated, “you look beautiful, for once” ???

did u guess the correct answer? well if u didn’t, it’s N O.

but u know who he did look at twice.

our waitress at dinner.

i think i wrote enough for one night. if u think this is my anxiety/perfectionism/insecurities combination spiraling out of control after being tamed incessantly for 20+ years, PLZ TELL ME.

but also, if you have a fucking brain, you’d know that:

1) this is definitely NOT the first time i’ve responded to something like this the way i did, and

2) i really just needed to ramble on and vent about all the shit that’s been going through my mind the last 2 1/2 hours, so there’s that.

have a good night get some sleep!!! thank u for ur time.

#why #me #cantsleep #upfor24hours #adderall #waitress #insecure #perfect #anxiety #sorry #helpme #help #needsleep #dontwanttotho #goodnight #getsomerest #ily #thanku

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tiaragqueen · 5 years

Note

Could you do a Tsukiyama (tokyo ghoul) obsessing over a fem human who is a bookworm, please?

Under Control

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Tsukiyama Shuu x Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,7k

✂ Trigger Warnings: Mention of depression, killing, cannibalization, objectification, obsessive and possessive behavior, slight malnutrition, manipulation, yandere theme.

[Edited]

***

I’ve used every drop of what little knowledge I have and Google translate regarding other languages, so I hope it doesn’t end up weird.Oh, and this is set before :re.

If you like mywriting, please support me on ko-fi!

“The one who loves the least, controls the relationship.” - Robert Anthony

You should’ve known that something was wrong the moment a flamboyant man with vibrant clothes approached you in that book café. And you should’ve known that something was wrong the moment your closed ones started to die one by one.

But it was too late to regret it now, wasn’t it? What happened had happened. There was no need to think about it, especially if the past only brought pain to your already depressed self. You should move on. You should get out of your head more often. You should start seeking help. You should allow yourself happiness. You should allow him to make you happy.

At least, that was what he said.

The truth is, it wasn’t that easy. It would never be that easy to forget that you were the one who had dragged them into your little drama. Them; your family, friends, colleagues, acquaintances. Heck, even your boss! Sure, it wasn’t your fault, to begin with. You didn’t even know that Tsukiyama was a ghoul in the first place.

Had you were a bit more observant, perhaps you would’ve noticed the hints. The way he occasionally licked his lips whenever you spoke about something, the way he studied your face and all the expressions it displayed, the way he checked you out (it wasn’t really discreet, but you’d learned to ignore it), the way he often complimented you whenever you wore clothes that accentuated your figure perfectly, and the way he tended to sniff your neck as a form of ‘greeting’. You’d assumed he was being attentive and considerate, yet it wasn’t all that far from the truth.

Attentive because you were his prey, and considerate because he wanted to make you feel more at ease around him.

But somewhere along the way, he began to change. He became more gentleman-like and… possessive. For example: how he wrapped an arm around your waist whenever you walked together, how he glared at anyone who talked or looked at you for too long, how he bought you some expensive presents regardless of the day and its importance, how he often invited you to his mansion and vice versa, and how he relished in reading books or do some particular gestures to you. Actions that seemed too sweet to be directed towards mere friends, and things that would spark a sense of intimacy between you.

You were a bit caught off guard, to say the least. The furthest things he’d ever done were light flirting and occasional yet lingering touches. But it was a rather nice surprise, you had to admit. Therefore, you’d decided to not to overthink it too much. Again, you’d assumed he was being a good friend. This was probably how he usually showed affection towards his close ones. And besides, you were quite flattered by the amount of attention he’d put on you. So, there was nothing to be suspicious of, right?

Right. Due to how often you both spent time with each other, he might have felt more comfortable now. Tsukiyama had always been extra when it came to you, anyway.

Just like how extra he was when he introduced you to his father.

The last note echoed in the spacious room as Tsukiyama withdrew his fingers from the ivory keyboards. His room. There were paintings of you hung on the wall, each depicting different expression and different attires. You didn’t know when he’d taken up a lesson for painting, but apparently, he’d worked hard to perfect every single frame.

That was what he’d told you on that fateful day, where you’d stupidly visited him because he was ‘sick’. You weren’t aware that ghouls had impressive healing ability, and sickness was probably impossible for them to get in the first place.

“How was it, Mi Amor?” he asked gently, affectionately, lovingly. He caressed your hair, and you sensed love – sincere love – pouring out from his fingertips.

How could a ghoul, one that had killed and eaten many people with another excuse besides hunger, could love someone so earnestly? It was illogical. It was preposterous. It was shocking. It was downright terrifying.

“I’ve composed this song since our first encounter,” he said, droopy eyes admiring the gloss of your crown. His servants have done a good job at taking care of your appearance; from the top of your head to the tip of your feet. All of them were clean, fragrant, and resplendent.

Just like what he had always desired.

“I know this is nothing but I hope you can feel my love, Ma cherié.”

Guilt couldn’t even describe what you were feeling right now; this stomach-churning feeling that told you that you would never loved him the way he wanted you to. The way he loved you. Because he was your captor – your kidnapper – and to fall in love with him would be a sin. A crime so unforgivable no matter how many times you begged for forgiveness.

You weren’t sick like him. But you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him, either.

Because he was your friend. You might have even considered him as your best friend; your confidant. He was your go-to person whenever you wanted to vent out, sharing crazy theories that had taken up almost all the spaces in your brain, asking nonsensical things, have a philosophical debate, or just someone to accompany you.

Because you were lonely. Nearly everyone that you’d befriended was superficial, or at least didn’t pay much attention to the details. You didn’t have anyone who you could truly connect with. You didn’t have anyone willing to wake up at ungodly hours and listen to your rambling. You didn’t have anyone who could see behind your quiet yet friendly facadé.

Because you yearned for a friend. And he… He had been perfect. He was everything you ever wanted; everything you ever wished for in a friend. Tsukiyama was, although eccentric, the only friend you could connect with. He was sophisticated, he understood your feelings, he entertained your strange ideas, and he always kept his promises. Never once did he let you down, and never once did he interrupt you when you talked about something.

Because you were hopeless. But it was all just a facadé, wasn’t it? In the end, you’d never truly meant anything to him aside from being a pet. A treasure. A possession he could never let go. A doll that, despite her master’s declaration of love, could only wait until the day he grows bored and throw you away. Which, in your case, throwing you into the chasm of his stomach.

Were you destined to end like this? Did God hate you or something? Because if so, then this was the cruelest punishment you’d ever gotten. It almost felt… unfair.

You hated this, though. You hated how you could do nothing but sit obediently on his lap. You hated how he dressed you up in fancy dresses and accessories as though you were a fucking mannequin. You hated how he always spoon-fed you. You hated that you had to spend the majority of your time waiting for him to come; to take you out of this hell disguised as a beautiful room decorated with your favorite flowers. You hated that the garden was the only place where you could breathe the fresh air. You hated that his servant – Kanae, was it? – seemed to hate you. You hated how his father immediately took a liking on you. You hated how he had suggested Tsukiyama to just marry you already, and you hated how Tsukiyama had the guts to accept it eagerly. He even promised to do so as soon as you were a bit more familiar with your new life.

You hated this; your predicament. Everything. And most of all, you hated your life. You didn’t think it was possible to loathe something abstract before. But now, you knew.

Pushing your glasses, you nodded. This was probably the least expensive thing that you had, and the only thing that you owned from your old life. A reminder that you used to be an ordinary woman with an ordinary house and ordinary life before you became a lovely lady with a lovely mansion and lovely life. “It was superb. Thank you, Tsukiyama-san.”

The warm smile immediately disappeared as a cold frown settled on his face. “What did I tell you about formality, hm?” he asked, warning laced his pernicious words.

You stiffened on his lap, mentally berating yourself over a little slip that could’ve been easily avoided. “A-apologize, Shuu.” you stammered stoically, albeit with a fearful hint. “I wasn’t… in my right mind just now. Forgive me.”

“There!” Tsukiyama beamed, his mood changed so quickly you weren’t sure whether to be relieved or not. “Isn’t it much better? After all, we’re lovers. It’ll be odd to call each other with such stiff nicknames.” He cocked his head and regarded you with those gleaming purple eyes.

You recognized that look. You fully comprehended what it meant. He was searching for another mistake; the slightest error that he could use against you. Internal panic aroused bile to leave your mouth – to empty your stomach from its nutrients because it wasn’t as if he would give you another, right? Tsukiyama didn’t want you to weigh more than necessary. Your current weight was enough. Not too skinny yet not too fat, either.

It was a perfect body.

“Don’t you think so, Tesoro?”

“Right, of course.” You sucked in a deep breath and nodded dutifully. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“It’s alright, Miele. Mistakes happen.” You looked away, trying to ignore the irony of those words. He must have been in a good mood today if he didn’t start punishing you. Thank goodness. “Just promise not to repeat it, okay? I’d hate to ‘lecture’ you again, Chérie.”

Tears stung your pupils as you dipped your head. You didn’t want him to see you were crying. No, not again. It was enough to display weakness in the past. You couldn’t afford to be weak. You had to be strong. You needed to be strong.

For him or yourself? You weren’t sure. You refused to think about it, either. As long as you were still alive, although not necessarily well, you would be fine.

“Yes, I promise.”

At least, this bittersweet affection was better than be a part of himself. Literally.

Translations

Mi amor (Spanish): My love

Ma chérie (French): My darling

Tesoro (Italian): Treasure

Miele (Italian): Honey

Chérie (French): Sweetheart

#Yandere tg #Yandere tokyo ghoul #Yandere Tsukiyama #Yandere Tsukiyama shuu #Yandere Tsukiyama x reader #Yandere anime #Tsukiyama x reader #Yandere imagine #Yandere scenario #Yandere one-shot #Anon #Request #Yandere request #Yandere story #yandere tg story #yandere tg imagine #yandere tg oneshot #yandere tg scenario

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hotsummersimpingogacc · 5 years

Text

te amo - reddie one shot

summary: richie and eddie start taking spanish classes together and richie sees this as an opportunity to confess his love to eddie.

word count: 1699 words

an: this is my first ever ship oneshot. but i honestly am proud of this. and also please excuse any mistakes in the spanish part, even though i do take spanish i am not that good to write such a paragraph without translator.

richie and eddie are around finn's and jack's age in this fic ❤

* - translated text at the end of the fic

* gif not mine *

for years richie had feelings for eddie. the jokes about his mom he always made, they were just defense mechanism. he was scared of his feelings, he was scared of being exposed or being judged by his friends. especially eddie, what if he revealed what he's really feeling and he'd just reject him. this fear was bigger than fear of pennywise himself. he was nothing compared to how frightened richie actually was.

everyday seeing the person he wants to be with the most. whenever eddie smiles richie is melting on the spot, when he's feeling down there's nothing more richie wants to do then hold him and tell him that everything is gonna be okay. sometimes when he sees eddie kissing his mom's cheek he wishes it was his cheek or even better his lips. he felt lonely whenever he was with other losers but when eddie was around it was like he was full again. richie tried to hide his feelings in front of his friends, it'd be weird if they found out the truth.

before the school year ended students had to choose their subjects for next year. and of course boys wanted ti have all classes tomorrow. they choosed them like that. but there was one richie had to beg other guys to take. richie asked them every single day if they'll take spanish with him. the answer was always the same, no. eddie started to feel really bad for richie since he looked like he really wanted to take the class, but not alone. so he decided to take it with him. after all richie needs someone to stop when he's making jokes. after eddie told him he's gonna take the class with him richie thanked him all the way home.

richie actually gained a little confidence after eddie informed him that he's gonna learn spanish with him. maybe he'll be able to tell him about his feelings since they're gonna be a few more hours a week together. maybe he'll finally realize if this is real or not. or maybe he'll swallow his feelings even deeper.

"hey, richie ready to head out?" eddie popped next to richie's locker all excited

"yeah, i'll just grab some things" richie grabbed his books

"so, are you excited?" eddie smiled at him

"little less then before fucking your mom but it's okay i guess" richie shrugged his shoulders

eddie rolled his eyes. he knew this was coming but he didn't expect it to happen before actual class.

"are you gonna do this the whole time? because if yes i'm gonna do anything to get out of that class" eddie explained with his hand near his right ear

"sorry, i just saw the opportunity" richie smirked

"you always see the opportunity, right?"

"you guessed it, señor" richie was pretty proud of his answer

first spanish lesson went pretty well. both richie and eddie enjoyed it. of course they had dive into studying right away. they met up at eddie's house after school.

sat down on eddie's bed and tried to learn lines they learned that day

"hola, me llamo richie and i fucked your mom!" richie burst out laughing

"can we at least study without this?"

richie sighed and looked at his textbook. of course he had to make that joke. eddie was so cute while trying pronounce words in spanish. it was so hard for richie to hold back and not kiss him. he was clenching his fist so he wouldn't stroke his cheek. fortunately eddie hadn't noticed anything. he hadn't noticed richie's looks at him, those genuine laughs, all that affection richie had for him. he never noticed and richie was so grateful for it.

there were days he wished eddie would notice. maybe show his love back. maybe kiss richie so richie wouldn't have to. maybe say those words richie was scared to jabber out. i love you, you mean a lot to me, that'd be enough for richie. he'd know that all those feelings he had for all those years weren't one-sided. these were things richie dreamed off when he was laying in his bed at night, trying to fall asleep without eddie on his mind.

months were passing and boys were picking up more and more new knowledge from spanish. basic lines and phrases weren't enough for them. they'd go to library in the afternoons and dig some new interesting words.

during these "diging" sessions richie got an idea. there's no way in hell eddie learned how to confess anything to someone in spanish. richie was so sure that this is the only way he can tell him how he really feels. and when eddie will realize what richie told him, he'd be far away from american borders.

richie spent even more time in library, borrowed some books home and started writing down his confession. it was easiest-hardest thing he ever done. putting those words on paper went so fast. he was so certain what he wants to tell him. but when it came to part he had to tell him, face to face his gut thightened and he felt like crying. his hands were sweating and shaking.

richie had the list in his backpack, carrying him everywhere he went. he was scared someone would find it and figure it out. this gave him more anxiety then eddie telling him no or making fun of him.

after two weeks of carrying the confession in his backpack, richie was ready to say it to eddie. he made sure they were alone in his house. he sat him down in his living room and sat opposite him. he never sweat this much. his whole body was shivering, covered in goosebumps. he was repeating to himself that this is the best time and there won't be any better time.

"is everything alright rich?" eddie, concerned, look richie straight into eyes

richie took a deep breath and started:

"eds, there's this thing, i've been meaning to tell you for such a long time. so here it is" he put his glasses back up on his nose, took another deep breath and began talking

*"eddie, te amo. He estado enamorado de ti desde que tengo memoria. y es dificil para mi Te veo todos los días, te escucho reír y me enamoro aún más de ti. cada vez que sonríes o te quejas de que algo es insalubre, trato de contenerme porque solo quiero besarte. cada vez que te sientas mal o enfermo solo quiero abrazarte y decirte que todo estará bien. Esto es lo más difícil que he hecho, pero es más fácil ya que te estoy diciendo esto en español y no tienes idea de lo que estoy diciendo. eds, eres mi amor y haría cualquier cosa por estar contigo" richie could feel tears in his eyes so he immidiately stood up and ran to bathroom

richie leaned against the sink and let the tears stream down his face. he knew eddie was sitting there all confused because has no idea what he just said and why he ran away. richie got it off his chest. he told eddie how he feels, how much he loves him. his list wasn't long but it sure was full of emotions and everything richie feeled.

"hey richie, are you okay?" eddie knocked on the door

"yeah, i just had to make sure my wang is longer than yours before we start messuring them" richie tried to hide his sobby voice

damn it richie, you don't have to hide behind your jokes anymore, you exposed yourself to him.

when richie stepped out of the bathroom he saw that eddie was searching his fanny pack in the hallway

"what you looking for there? your birth control pills?" richie chuckled

"no, but if you're sick or something and you went in there to shit or for god's sake even throw up i have to take my pills so i won't catch anything" richie sometimes wondered how is it possible for eddie to speak this fast

days passed since richie told eddie about his feelings. he felt releaved but also really anxious. eddie was totally looking for some words richie had told him. what if he was searching for words like te amo. what if he already cracked them and he's not gonna tell richie so he won't break his heart. richie was overthinking as always.

that day, eddie and richie went to study to eddie's house. they were sitting quietly on eddie's bed both of them reading text they had to read.

"richie?"

"hmm?"

"there's something i want to tell you" richie could feel how his heart skipped a beat

"go on, eds"

"umm, wait" eddie took out a small piece of paper from back of his textbook.

"okay so, yo también te quiero" eddie said with certain confidence

"what?"

"it means i love you too, amor" eddie blinked at richie

"you're fucking with me!" richie yelled out

"i wish i was" eddie chuckled

"wait, are you like serious serious, or did you tell other guys about what i said and they made you say this?"

"i haven't told anyone. richie, this comes from my heart. i really love you! when you said what you said i felt so releaved because i was happy to hear that i wasn't the only one feeling this way. richie i cracked your "i fucked your mom" a long time ago"

"you little fucker" richie smiled

* eddie, i love you. i've been in love with you ever since i can remember. and it's hard for me. i see you everyday, i hear you laugh and i fall in love with you even more. whenever you smile or complain about something being unsanitery i try to hold myself back because i just wanna kiss you. whenever you feel bad or sick i just wanna hold you and tell you it's gonna be okay. this is the hardest thing i ever done but it's easier since i'm telling you this in spanish and you have no idea what i'm saying. so eds, you're my love and i'd do anything to be with you

tagged

@royalydamned @diablvna @queen-irl-af

if you wanna be included please let me know ❤

#it (2017)#it (2019)#it chapter 2 #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #finn wolfhard #jack dylan blazer #richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak

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jeonqukie · 4 years

Text

⊰ — SOMEBODY ELSE / PLAYLIST.

“Maybe if they don't love you now, they never will and that hurts more than it should. And you're so tired, so you leave -- disappear. Maybe that one person you were chasing, they notice. They notice you're gone and they break a little because they had to depend to you. Without realizing, it's too late. That's the thing about the unrequited, when it's finally requited, if it ever will be, it's too late.”

↪ read now.

⊰ — FEATURING / Min Yoongi and Kim Taehyung.

⊰ — GENRES / Angst, romance, mature themes (smut), fluff, unrequited love, friends to lovers, and mentions of infidelity.

SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK / JOJI

“I don’t want a friend. I want my life in two. Please one more night, waiting to get there, waiting for you. Just one more night, I’m done fighting all night. When I’m around slow dancing in the dark, don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms. You done made up your mind. I don’t need no more signs.”

I LOVE YOU / BILLIE EILISH

“It’s not true. Tell me I’ve been lied to. Crying isn’t like you. What the hell did I do? Never been the type to let someone see right through. Maybe you won’t take it back? Say you were trying to make me laugh. And nothing has to change today. You didn’t mean to say I love you. I love you and I don’t want to.”

UNDO / THE 1975

“I didn’t even see you when I liked you. Now, I ain’t got no time. Girl, I wanna see you undo it. I wanna see you, but you’re not mine.”

BETTER / KHALID

“You say we’re just friends but I swear when nobody’s around. You keep my hand around your neck, we connect, are you feeling it now? I got so high the other night, I swear to God, felt my feet lift the ground. Your back against the wall, this is all you’ve been talking about in my ears.”

IN MY HEAD / ARIANA GRANDE

“Painted a picture, I thought I knew you well. I got a habit of seeing what isn’t there. Caught in the moment, tangled up in your sheets. When you broke my heart, I said you only wanted half of me. My imagination’s too creative. They see demon, I see angel; without the halo, wingless angel.”

ROSES / GASHI

“She’s like a renegade in my head, that what she is. And she’s sleeping all in my bed, that where she left. She likes fighting with the gloves off. Every single night, she only fuck me with the right song. She’s like a melody in my head, that’s what she is.”

TEST DRIVE / JOJI

“What do you want, babe? I don’t like when you taunt me. You’ve been calling the wrong name. I said what do you want, babe? I’m working on my aim. I’m hoping you do the same. You got me afraid again, so let me just pray again.”

PROM / SZA

“Promise to get a little better as I get older and you’re so patient and sick of waiting. Promise to do better; should have, could have. Probably want to let me go, but you can’t.”

OUT OF LOVE / ALESSIA CARA

“I won’t tell you I’m lonely ‘cause it may be selfish. I won’t ask you to hold me ‘cause that won’d mend what’s helpless. There’s not a thing I could say, not a song I could sing for your mind to change. Nothing can fill up the space. Won’t ask you to stay, but let me ask you one thing.”

SOMEBODY ELSE / THE 1975

“So I heard you found somebody else. And, at first, I thought it was a lie. I took all my things that make sounds. The rest I can do without. I don’t want your body, but I have to think about you with somebody else. Our love has gone cold. You’re intertwining your soul with somebody else.”

WRONG DIRECTION / HAILEE STEINFELD

“I don’t hate you. No, I couldn’t if I wanted to. I just hate all the hurt that you put me through and that I blame myself for letting you. Did you know I already know?”

EASY / CAMILA CABELLO

“You tell me that I'm complicated and that might be an understatement. Anything else? You tell me that I'm indecisive. Fickle, but I try to hide it. Anything else? You tell me that I overthink 'til I ruin a good thing. Anything else?” You tell me that you'd rather fight than spend a single peaceful night with somebody else.”

All rights reserved © jeonqukie (formerly known as aiscka). All (or portions) of my work may not be reproduced, redistributed, reclaimed, translated, modified, or used in any way whatsoever without my permission.

#taehyung fic #yoongi fic #taehyung x reader #yoongi x reader #taegi fic #se playlist

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devourer--of--books · 4 years

Text

I've continued my Obey Me! journey and I have new thoughts

It's been about a week from my "obey me! first impressions" post and while no one cares, I feel like I need to do a follow up or my head will explode. College came for me before I got up to date on the story (I'm currently on task 15-1, may the lord have mercy on my soul) but I've gotten plenty of spoilers because I'm impatient, so if you haven't played the game til, maybe skip this post? You've been warned.

Last time I started in mechanics, and for the most of it my opinion is the same. I've gotten used to the slow-ness by now and figured I'd just have to make do, but thank you very much to everyone who helped me with leveling up and how to make the most of what I have.

Story wise, the plot holes are endless, but it's mostly an otome thing I guess. They are all in school? Who is teaching those classes? Aren't they supposed to have graduated by now? Will they ever? Why were the angels and Solomon there before us? Are we like frozen in time in the human world or have we just gone missing there?

I decided that in order to just enjoy the game for what it is, I'll ignore these but it does bother me. You can find a lot of posts and theories here on tumblr on the topic and they discuss this way better than I could, so I'll just end it here: it's not a very consistent game, but if you don't think too hard about it you'll be fine.

On the part you probably are here for: the boys

I'll go in order, same as before

Luficer is... a lot. On my last post I talked about how his controlling nature and the kinky-dark-Jumin-Han-fanfic vibes I got from him kinda made him too scary for me. After playing some more I find myself to be a bit torn. On one hand, Lucifer seems like a very interesting LI to romance, he is sexy, yes, but he feels very lonely and vulnerable. The fact that he is the Avatar Of Pride, the eldest and most powerful is very attractive, again, in the same way Ikemen's Nobunaga is. A man who makes hard decisions in order to protect what is most important to him, who needs to be in control, who has a hard time opening up and does not feel like he is quite deserving of being happy. But on the other... I don't feel like Lucifer could ever come to respect us, which is a problem I too have with Nobunaga, although to a lesser degree. I always get this feeling that Lucifer loves us like a pet (maybe you're into that, I'm not really the pet-kink kind). Yes, he cares deeply for us but when it comes down to it he does not see us as equals. Our relation is not one of a partnership. At least not in his eyes. And why should he view it as a partnership? We are human, a non-magical human and he is an almighty demon lord. We are not the same. I was happy to ignore all this overthinking but it becomes unbearable at the two instances when he gets mad at us and lashes out. The way he speaks, the way he acts... absolutely unacceptable. You don't get to threaten me, talk down to me, nearly kill me and then say you respect me because you don't and I have yet to see a moment where he truly does show disgust for treating us like that or guarantees that it won't happen again. So what? You can't take talk back? Fuck you. Speaking of which, apparently he is the only one we get to fuck? I'm not sure if I want to. I mean, sure, I like some possessive dirty talk as much as the next gal and Lucifer is gorgeous, but I don't think my pride will allow me to bed him. Honestly I might just friendzone him for no reason other than to wound his pride at that. Yes bitch, get some fucking blue balls, you ain't getting any. Unless... well, you have 5 tasks to convince me you've earned it. Hop to it, Lucy.

Now that that's out of the way, Mammon:

I'm in love with this idiot.

Out of all the boys this is the one that most surprised me because while I did think he would grow more and more on me I did not see him being this important to me. I initially though of Mammon as the 707 of Obey Me, the one who is always in love with you in every route (don't get me started on this, I will be sobbing eventually), and in a way he is. But here's the twist: in MM, I'm not really a big Seven stan. I love Seven platonically and I thought that would be the case for Mammon as well. I was wrong. Maybe it's because Lucifer pissed me off so badly or because we didn't spend nearly as much time with Satan as we should (more on this later) but Mammon really caught my eye. I didn't think he was that cute, but I got one of his SSRs and use it quite often, so I started getting lots of Surprise Guest moments with him, and he just looks so beautiful in those? When the hearts appear and he looks at me with that soft expression jdhdbdndkdjd. He is just so sweet overall? He feels so genuine and human and real (in a way you don't really get with Seven until you're a few days into his route, when it was a bit late for me to love him as more than a friend). Mammon loves you for who you are, and while he does talk down to us, you can always tell he does not truly mean it. I can't think of an instance when he came even close physically threatening us and I don't think he would be able to. It makes me feel very very safe and warm and happy. Which is what love should always feel like: Love should feel restful. And maybe I'm thinking too much about this. It's just a game. But it doesn't make it any less true. I'm definitely kissing this man.

About Levi, not much. He still annoys me. I can kinda see the appeal for other people, but still a no-go for me. I'm not a fan of his personality or looks, I already said my piece on him.

So, Satan. I still absolutely adore Satan. He is the cutest and my go-to guy, but... his arc was kind of short I guess? We don't spend that much time with him so far (at least I don't think so) and the whole going on a rampage thing is a turn off (as explained above). But with Satan I cannot truly resent him, for one, he is the Avatar of Wrath, so is not like I didn't sign up for this. I can feel he does feel bad and conflicted about it so I did let it slide. But I can see some red flags? Like, I've got his Be You card and read the story and it just... kinda paints him in a bad light? Yes, babe, you've got a temper, I know but... idk man. Satan feels very caring and mischievous (again, the soft dom energy here man) but I don't feel as safe as I feel with Mammon. Maybe given due time I'll feel better. Still, he is one of my bias, lil blonde book bitch, I wanna get to know you better, let's make out.

If we don't spend enough time with Satan, we spend no time with Asmo. In my other post you can read me projecting all my hopes and past trauma on Asmo's character but so far, that's kind of all I've got. I don't have enough data or character development to have a real opinion on him, but if we do get routes I look forward to doing his. No kisses for now, sorry babe.

On Beel: Y'all commented about how he would turn out to be a complete sweetheart and I did not believe you. I should have. This man is so adorable. I'm vey romantically attracted to him and will do his route if I can, but the thirst is just... not here? Like please, lets hug and hold hands but I do not want to kiss you. He's a great guy, just not the guy for me? He does beat Lucifer though. He gives me safe vibes but, like, friend vibes. The one friend that you work out with, is your plus one when you're single and takes care of you when you're sad? That vibe. I don't think he would be very into me either. I'm a picky eater, grudge holder, horrible cook and overall bitchy gal. We're better off as friends.

Belphegor. He can choke. I haven't gotten to it yet, but I know he is gonna kill me. Human-hater, lying ungrateful bitch. He's hot, yes. Have I read smut with him? Yes. Would I fuck him? Yes. But in, like, a hate-sex kinda thing I guess. You've got 5 tasks to kill me and then convince me that somehow you are not the worst. Things aren't really looking up for this sleepy boi.

Also, does anyone know if it impacts in any way if you kiss (or I guess fuck on Lucifer's case) more than one boy? Like, will they be mad? Because I've got some impossible choices if it does matter. I'll report again once I'm done with the tasks, I guess?

Peace, my dudes

#obey me #obey me!#obey me shall we date #obey me one master to rule them all #shall we date #otome games #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #ikesen nobunaga #707 mysme

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iridescentanachronism · 5 years

Text

when one night only turns into two

hello folks, i have never written fanfiction and never used this blog! i guess i’m diving in headfirst LMAO!!!

this is a lil blurb i thought of when y/n is a singer (not super big but for sure up and coming) and she covers kiwi at one of her shows and it goes viral and harry notices and decides to just SHOW UP at her show the balls on this guy!! anyways this is my first fic so please be kind! constructive criticism is always welcome

“thank you for coming out tonight! your presence gives me the ability to do my job- i will always be grateful for each and every single one of you. drive safely and love one another, los angeles. thanks again for having me, you have been wonderful.”

as you walked off the small stage at the house of blues your heart swelled with pride. this was your first show out of state, and from what the audience sounded like, you had crushed it. performing in LA had always been a dream of yours, but a daunting one, considering that their crowds were used to big names and powerful stage presences. you were intimidated by the city- yet you walked off their stage with an indescribable feeling of pride, adrenaline, and confidence. this was the start of something new and you could feel it.

feeling someone’s eyes on you, you made a sharp turn and ran into your tour manager, rosco. “hello! hey, hey, hey, that was amazing wasn’t it? the energy felt absolutely maddening! god, i could do that everyday for the rest of my life. what do you think? was it too much, did we do too many covers?” the words seemed to flow right out of you, even though you gave LA your all, it was still LA, and rosco had always been your best critic. he quickly responded to let you know it was as amazing as you’d originally thought, and that if this show was any indication, you would have plenty more shows in LA.

what you didn’t expect, however, was the ruckus that one of the aforementioned covers would cause on twitter. you had always loved harry styles, and after taking quite some time to look into the legalities on the matter, decided to cover kiwi for the first time last night. logging into your account, you noticed the song title trending- and after clicking on it you were led to a video of your show, hair being shaken around you, throwing yourself around the stage with the heavy music, and the scene was completed with a boisterous crowd jumping around and singing every word along with you. a smile covered your face- this is your favorite part of performing, losing yourself entirely in the stage, and in this video you were doing just that. however excited you had become at the potential this showed for your career, you immediately had so many questions. why had this blown up so much? you covered four songs last night, why is this one such a big deal? after looking through the tag, chuckling at some memes, and being freaked out by some responses, you had found the tweet that made you lose your shit. the tweet itself wasn’t even the raunchiest you had found this morning, it simply stated: “@y/t/n: fuck my shit up, babe. literally, whatever you want to do to me, do it” with the linked video of you singing kiwi. however, one thing in particular stood out to you. the part that said “liked by harry styles”.

you immediately dialed rosco, not only is he your tour manager, but basically your entire support system. a musicians life gets lonely, and he is the only one who has stuck by you throughout the entire tumultuous journey.

“sweetheart! perfect timing, i actually was just about to call-”

“harrystylessawthekiwivideoandlikedatweetaboutitholyfuckingshit-” you started to ramble, your most prominent nervous trait, in the highest pitch rosco thought he had ever heard from you.

“sweets, first of all, where was that pitch when we recorded the album? second, take a breath and tell me again, i can’t understand a damn thing you said”

you took a deep breath and told him of the tweets you saw, and when you told him about harry’s interaction he simply told you to chill out. he had favorited a tweet, and he may not have even been the one to do it. with an odd sting you realized he was correct, while it was exciting to have your idol recognize you, you could not overthink it: it was simply recognition for a job well done.

“it seems as though the people you needed to impress are just as proud of you as i am, lovey, your ‘one night only’ in los angeles has been extended to two, you interested in doing it all over again tomorrow night?”

you must have looked like a goldfish in your kitchen, jaw slack and eyes wide open, you struggled to come to your senses. you had asked for the chance to prove yourself in a city known for music, and good music at that, and were apparently being gifted with a second chance.

“oh! um, yes, of course, why wouldn’t i? holy shit, this is amazing, holy shit!” you began to squeal and run in circles around your house. whilst giggling with elation, the seriousness of this event hit you: two nights of rocking out with the liveliest crowd you have ever played for, in the city you’ve dreamt of doing this in for years. drops began to form in your eyes as you managed to spit out a quick thank you to rosco, who knew you would cry. he, quite frankly, did not want to hear your tears, so he hung up after telling you what to tweet.

after logging on you realized you had gone from a respectable 10k followers to an overwhelming 30k, you almost squealed again, composing yourself enough to type, you wrote:

@y/t/n: wow. in absolute awe of you la. thank you for supporting me, and thank you for letting me do what i do. and thanks to you all, i have been gifted another night here (-: night two at the hob! tickets on sale at 6pm california time, come see me tomorrow night, peeps! i’ll be sure to make it worth your while <3

with the click of your fingers and the ping of your phone, the announcement had been sent, and the stage had been sent. the pressure was on, and you had never felt more in your element.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

everything that could have gone wrong on the morning of your fateful second show, had. you had woken up late (something minor, but was an omen for your bad day), gotten a flat tire, been hit on by the man sent to fix said flat tire, and had been late to soundcheck. after arriving at soundcheck you had found that everything was wrong, the stage wasn’t set up correctly, the duct-taped x’s from the previous show had been removed, and you had to all but start from the beginning.

you had planned to change things up from your previous gig, but had no time to practice the changes. you spoke to your band and hoped that was enough, you drank some coffee, did some jumping jacks, warmed up your vocals, and put on your game face. this is your second show in LA, and you weren’t going to let anything ruin it; hearing the sounds of a sold out bar in front of you, feeling your heart began to flutter in your chest, and knowing that in a few minutes you would be putting on the best show of your goddamn life had set you up well. you were ready. with your shoulders back and head up high, you walked onto stage and, unknowingly, commanded the attention of the room.

about twenty minutes into your set you decided to take a quick breather. taking a long sip of water and leaning into the microphone, you decided to do a quick little check in, “hey folks, hows everyone doing out there?” your southern drawl had just slipped in towards the end, and you felt so at ease on stage that you hadn’t even noticed. someone else did notice.

harry styles had decided to surprise you at your show, he had favorited that tweet because he agreed- you could do whatever you wanted to him, but he would rather do whatever you wanted to you. he had his signature smirk on as he stood backstage, listening to rosco ramble about how surprized you would be when you realized he had come, and how much you adored his album. as you continued to banter back in forth with the sold out bar, harry had taken note of how peaceful you looked. you stood proudly on stage, with messy hair, and a sick body you looked comfortable; the stage had seemed like your home.

luckily, you hadn’t noticed harry the entire show, hadn’t even noticed how his eyes hadn’t left your body while you passionately belted out every word to his song, completely losing yourself in the melody, and delivering another breathtaking performance. he watched you take your final bow, and heard your last expression of gratitude, before watching you run off stage and into the arms of your tour manager. harry quickly noticed the tears in your eyes and the smile so large that it looked painful, he heard your rambling and the joy in your voice, it had reminded him of when this was all new, when nothing was guaranteed, and the only thing keeping him in this trying industry was the feeling you were experiencing right now.

his moment of nostalgia passed as you had unraveled yourself from rosco’s arms and did a double take. harry styles was standing in front of you. you heard a deep chuckle coming from him, likely due to your wide eyes and gaping mouth, he heard a quiet “no fucking way” come from you, and decided he had waited long enough. as cocky as usual, he rasped out, “hello love, your show was amazing. it’s a pleasure to meet you, i’m harry, as i think you may know” he didn’t bother waiting for a response from the gobsmacked young woman before continuing, “y’know, i’ve seen plenty of covers of kiwi, but none have been as genuine as yours. you captured the song for what it is, you blew it away, blew me away in fact, so i knew i had to come out and see ya tonight.” his accent grew thicker as he became more bemused with your state of shock.

your breath eventually caught up to you as you nervously chuckled, “holy shit, thank you so much. you have no idea how much that means coming from you. thank you for coming out, oh my god, i have so much to say to you but nothing is coming to mind other than thank you, so thank you, again”

“of course, darling, i loved it. i’ll be sure to pass along my number so whatever comes to mind can be said. unfortunately, i have to run, but i’ll be seeing you around kiddo, keep up the good work” harry said with a sly wink, leaving you flushed at the pet name, and yearning for more time with him. while you let out a soft thank you and goodnight, you began to think of what the future held for you. praise from harry styles was not to be taken lightly, and his impromptu visit had only fanned the flame in your soul, his visit meant you were doing something right, and this had been the fuel you needed to continue putting in long hours at the studio, and spending evenings alone, writing in your shitty and overpriced apartment.

while you had been thinking of what this visit meant for your career. harry had thoughts of you headlining arenas swimming around in his head. as he walked away he thought of you; thought of how immensely talented you were, how charismatic you were, and how far you had to go. he also thought of your grace, the presence you carried as you pranced around on stage, and the charming beauty that you seemed unaware of. harry styles knew you were talented, but he also knew you were breathtaking, and he could see absolutely nothing stopping you.

as he walked away and you listened to rosco’s compliments, you allowed your own mind to wander. maybe, just maybe, things were going to look up for you. and you couldn’t help but sigh happily at the thought.

A/N: hello peeps! sorry this was super long hmm i’m torn between cutting it or not, because not much harry but also the buildup is important to me, please let me know what you prefer! constructive criticism is ALWAYS welcome and apprecited! thanks for reading this far if you did, you mean the world to me! let me know if y’all would want a part two (-:

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