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lixnininotnay · 3 years

Note

Hey do u think you could just do some yan hank x reader :) thank u :)

Hello, and thank you for being the first one to send me a request! And sorry for making you wait for so long, first I thought doing a few headcanons, but soon my ideia became an one-shot, and then it turned out in a full story (sort of, lol). Let's start this tragedy! I hope you enjoy it.

Warning: this story contains a lot murder, description of death, blood, emotional, psychological and physical abuse, kidnapping, unhealthy relationships and behavior, yandere, obsession and others topics. It's not recommended to read it if you are uncomfortable with any of those.

P.s.: if I forgot to put some warning or if you spot any grammatical error, please tell me! I would be thankful.

All the mistakes you made (A Yandere!Hank x reader story)

Chapter I. - Your first mistake.

You kicked and squirmed against the man who held you in a grip that felt like steel, but even though you were giving it your all, your resistance was showing no result. In fact, it looked to him like you were just a rag doll that he was carrying on his shoulder, but it was also because you were weak and heavily injured.

"Let me go, your fucking bastard!" You hissed. No answer. He just continued walking stilly, like if it was the most ordinary thing that ever happened.

But to be truthful, that wasn't the most eccentric thing he'd ever done. Hank was famous for causing large-scale massacres, but you didn't believe in it before, after all, how could a single person destroy entire units by himself and without leaving any witnesses?

You thought it was all a farce, that in reality it was a group that was after all this killing, and they pretended to be only one person to strike fear so nobody would try to counter them. So you ended up accepting the mission to go after that guy called "Hank" in order to investigate further and see if your theory was correct, you were curious to see the truth. That was your first mistake. You were in an arsenal of the A.A.H.W. with other mercenaries and agency members, they apparently managed to locate approximately where his base is and planned to attack in a large number, and they also talked about the possiblity of having a pizza party that might happen after, but you didn't mind too much.

While everyone was getting ready and arming themselves to the teeth, you could hear an explosion noise, followed by gunfire and screams filled of agony. Everything happened so fast that you couldn't ratiocinate correctly.

You quickly obeyed your senses and threw yourself behind a pillar, thus protecting yourself from the barrage of gunfire that followed right after, that covered the entire room in red and yellow. After everyone realized that the enemy had finally run out of ammo, the ones who survived came out of their hiding places and started trying to fight back, but were quickly killed one by one. Picking up an AK-74, you tried to get as far away as possible, knowing that facing danger head-on would be futile.

Going up a staircase and reaching a higher landing, you got behind a container and peeked out to see who the enemies were. As a consequence, taking a fright when realizing that it was just one person, not a group, easily killing several with just a katana in hand. You tried to ignore this fact and focus on the battle, firing and managing to land two shots on him.

Hank rapidly became annoyed, and started to ignore the agents that were going at him and changed his direction to you and the other two snipers who were on your side. For a split second, as he lifted his head to see where the shots were coming from, you could see bloodlust in his eyes, similar to a malicious and hungry animal, it was terrifying.

And then he began to move in a fierce way, brutally slicing anyone on his path to you. You were trying to reload your gun and to back away even more, but he had already gone up the stairs, kicked the closest sniper in the face causing them to hit their head against the wall, instantly killing them. He tried to cut you in half with his katana right away, but you managed to hold the blow using the AK-74 and kicked him in the stomach, pushing him away.

The second sniper tried to shoot him, but Hank managed to ricochet two bullets, hitting them back and in the meantime you bolted behind a wall, he took the gun from the first one he killed, and you started exchanging shots. You got hit twice, once in the shoulder and once in the abdomen, and you ran out of bullets, when he realized that, he went straight towards you and tucked the gun behind his back. You tried to run away, but he had already reached and started to strangle you, he wanted to have the satisfaction of killing you with his bare hands.

You struggled for air, but his grip was stronger, you could see the sadistic urge to kill in him, without showing an ounce of pity.

Just when you thought it was your end, the second soldier shot Hank, before they took their last breath and died in their own blood trail made after they crawled close enough to aim. In the second he momentarily loosened his grip, even though you were still dizzy from the lack of air, you managed to grab the gun from Hank's back after the shot, struck him with it, taking him off you and getting up quickly with the help of the the wall, trying to hold the gun and aim it, shivering from the adrenaline, bruises and out of breath.

"It's over. Just give up already." You demanded.

"You're a really annoying bitch." Hank hissed, still on the floor and with one hand on the left side of his face, where you hit him and cracked the glass of his goggles.

And all of a sudden, just when you thought Hank was finished, he got up, you tried to react but your movements were still slow. He grabbed the gun from your hands, caught you around the neck with his other hand, making you bang your head against the wall and then knocking you to the ground. The impact was so bad that you felt blood seeping from your lips and a tremendous headache, making you whimper in pain. Hank just chuckled at your state.

"Goin' down that easily? You're pathetic." Hank mocked you as he approximated. You tried to creep away but he stepped on your back, stopping you once more. He bent down to look at you closely, your eyes still had the slendor of the desire to fight and survive, an expression on the face from someone that wouldn't give up yet, he loved it. He stopped for a second to think, then continued. "Y'know what? I liked you, just love your type." You tried to process what he told you, but nothing made sense. "I'm keepin' you with me. Stay here." He said as he got off from you, but before shooting one of your legs. What made you scream out loud in pain, the adrenaline of the moment passed causing all the pain to hit you at once, while Hank came down from the platform to kill the rest of the agents, and the A.T.P. soldiers and mags that just arrived.

Everything in you hurts, even breathing, it was hard to relax. You spent a few minutes lying on the floor listening to the gunshots and screams in the background that haunted your ears, sounds that were becoming more muffled as the time passed, and trying to somehow control the pain, however your efforts did not yield results, the burning sensation of your wounds remained and you were struggling to not faint. When your vision started to get blurry, you heard something:

"Hello? Anyone's listening? Hello?" You turned your head to the voice, it was coming from the room that had the radio. "I repeat, anyone's listening?"

Clinging to what you thought was a glimmer of hope, you rise up with difficulty from the ground and began to stumble to the station, almost slipping in your own puddle of blood. After arriving with difficulty in the chamber, you answered. "Yes, (Y/N) talking, it's an emergency." You battled to say, your throat felt like it was on fire.

"What happened?"

"Hank invaded the base, we need units, NOW!" You tried to demand, your voice was still weak.

"It will take some time, we don't have any available next to your location." That irritated you.

"For the fuck sakes, we don't have time--" They hung up, wich made you rage and question if all your efforts were in vain.

You tried to keep your composure, after stopping for a few seconds to calm down, you rummaged around and found some bandages and an adrenaline shot in one of the lockers, which you used to cover the wounds and applied to yourself, now managing to stand up and even walk. And digging a little further you found a knife bag with a knife inside, which you decided to hide in one of your boots, and a pistol that you kept in your hands.

When you left the room, you decided that you were going to run away without anyone noticing, to hell the reward money. Watching your surroundings and hiding behind the containers, you saw that Hank was no longer in sight which made you panic, but you also saw the body of the guy who saved you, you tried to check their pulse, but they were gone.

"Thank you. Rest in peace, my man." You said in respect, while closing their eyes, knowing that if they didn't help, you would be dead. Before getting up and leaving you saw that in their pocket there was a grenade, which you decided to take.

You rushed down the stairs and walked down one of the long corridors for what felt like hours, the place looked like a maze full of corpses, making it obvious that Hank has been through here. Entering and turning in several corridors, trying to remember where is the exit, made you regret to not paying attention and memorize the place, this base was gigantic.

Hearing heavy footsteps approaching you, you entered a room that looked like a dormitory and hid under a bunk bed, carrying the pistol. You heard the door open again.

"You really don't obey when someone says to, do you?" You can feel the irritation in his speech, sounded like Hank was searching for you for some time already.

He began looking around the room for you, kicking and knocking over some furniture in the process, you started crawling under the beds trying to make as much silence as possible and get next to the door. For a moment he stopped and was silent, a sudden movement that made you uneasy. He was trying to hear you. After what seemed an eternity of silence, he turned his head towards the bed you were hiding underneath.

Fuck it.

You abruptly ran to the door for your life, and before he could do anything, you took aim and started shooting towards him to keep your distance and threw the grenade at him, closing the entrance as you left. Even though, he protected himself with using the beds, leaving no major injuries on him, it really took him by surprise. Hank didn't expect that you could do all of this for your bruises, you sure were an interesting person. Now he really wants you.

You sprinted as fast as you could, your movements becoming more clumsy as the pain returned, but it didn't stop you. Finally finding the exit, you spotted a vehicle that could easily get in and hot-wire it, but wasn't able to, despair making it even harder. In this short meantime, you felt a pair of hands pulling you by the collar of your shirt and pulling you out of the vehicle.

"You really know how to get under my skin." he admitted, both out of admiration and irritation in a threatening way, looking directly in your eyes. And he threw you over his shoulder, hurting you and making you drop your pistol in the process. He couldn't be gentle even if his life depended on it. "I'd have drive us both to the base, but you are such a fucking annoyance that makes it impossible." And then he started walking with you on his shoulder.

What he said made you shiver, what was he planning to do with you? You started to struggle, waiting for him to let go of you, but he just held you tighter. You soon ran out of strength and gave up, getting more tired and weaker by every minute, all this agitation was too much for you, so eventually, you end up passing out from exhaustion.

Hank still couldn't figure out what he found so fascinating about you, maybe because you, a nobody, managed to survive him for so long, few did, or because of your determination and how you surprised him, or even the way you looked at him, he loved to see that mixture of fear, hate and will to live in your face, it was so intriguing.

Whatever it was, he wouldn't be worrying and questioning himself nonstop right now, he didn't need to. Because he would have all the time he wanted to discover now.

#madcom x reader #yandere madness combat #madness combat x reader #yandere hank #yandere x reader #tw yandere

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wangshuus · 3 years

Text

delicacy | diluc ragnvindr

pairing: yan!diluc ragnvindr/gn!reader

genre: psychological

cw: unhealthy relationship, mentions of forced marriage, ooc diluc (lol)

wc: 2.6k

summary: to diluc, you are a delicacy that he wishes to savour.

note: i’m sorry in advance my dear readers this is absolute dog water ajfhaiufhfui. this was just an experiment since i don’t think i’ve written a decent yandere ever and this kinda proves it but it’s ok i’ll get there one day. just take my ooc diluc. yes, i know i screwed up real bad on this one but let's just say i loosened a few screw for the sake of the plot,,,yeah,,,i’ll probably need to proof read this again too but its ok ahhhhh.

“It’s useless to keep tugging at those binds. You know they won’t come off unless I take them off myself. Now, be good and sit still.” You heard a familiar voice.

It was once a voice that you were delighted to hear but now the very mention of the owner sent a wave of striking cold upon your body, ironic considering who it was. You had no idea where you were, what day it was, or what time it was. You were completely clueless, being stuck in a dark room with nothing but a bed in which you’ve been bound by the headboard. The room was concerningly chilly, the air in the room being crisp, cold and suffocating. The figure in the room made their way to the edge of the bed next to sit next to you. You felt a gloved hand place itself upon your cheek. It was so warm you almost wanted to lean into it but you refused to find comfort in the touch of your detainer.

You were but a simple bartender, loyal to working at the famous Angel’s Share in Mondstadt. You previously resided in Springvale with your parents but moved to the city due to your job. Your family lived a happy little life, not drowning in riches but being comfortable enough to sustain a plausible living. In your head, you were so painfully boring; so here lies the question, how exactly did you get into this situation? Not even you knew the answer but one thing that you could make sense of in the whole ordeal was that the main that stood in front of you was mad.

Diluc Ragnvindr has many titles ranging from the renowned owner of the Dawn Winery to one of Mondstadt’s most esteemed bachelors. He claimed such a high and mighty reputation that no one would’ve guessed the devious intents hidden in the back of his head. Yes, you were a mere bartender that worked under him at his own tavern but ever since you were hired, he felt something stirring up within him. Now you see, Diluc wasn’t someone that you would find chasing after anyone in fact, he’s never chased after anyone at all until he met you. He was confused at first why he started feeling the way that he did when you were around, unfamiliar emotions began to bubble inside of him.

You were just so easy to talk to, so charming, so comforting, a breath of fresh air to him, truly. At first, he assumed it would be nothing but a short lived infatuation, expecting for his feeling to dissipate like a dying flame in a matter of time but this flame only burned bigger, brighter, and belligerent as the days passed. Diluc wasn’t exactly sure how his feelings came to be. Perhaps it was due to the loss, betrayal and tragedy that stained his past. Maybe it was his longing to be loved again, to hold someone close and never let go, or to have someone hold him and allow him to bask in the feeling of being lovingly embraced-- which was a feeling that became painfully foreign to him.

It had been so long since he found comfort in anything or anyone, becoming accustomed to being isolated, building up walls to keep everyone out and away. He had no one left to care for and presumably no one left to care for him, making the pyro wielder take on such an aloof personality. After his whole ordeal, he was never truly the same, so to see him look genuinely pleased by someone was such a shock to the public eye. Of course, you had come to enjoy Diluc’s presence as he stopped by the tavern fairly often to check up on the flow of business and you had the chance to talk to him during his visits. You had heard from others that the young man was awfully reserved and indifferent towards any subject matter but he was seemingly interested in any conversation between the two of you, even partaking in the act of idle-chit chat as a means to continue talking to you. Anything for you.

He was greatly enamoured by you; everything about you. He’s taken every second he could to observe you and your nature, falling in love with the little things about you from the way you brightened up the room with your cheerful demeanour, the way you gracefully made your way across the tavern during, the way your eyes twinkled when you were talking about him about something you loved--archons the way he wished for you to only look at him with those eyes full of an enthusiastic sparkle. He wanted that; and he wanted it all for himself. Once he realized this was the case, he went through a spiralling hole of madness. He found himself being obsessive with looking out for you, going above and beyond by following you in the shadows every chance he could get, his self control on his possessiveness running as thin as a strand of hair.

Diluc was scary to say the least. His ability to deceive people into thinking he was still the reserved yet distinguished gentleman while he was falling into a pit of insanity was nothing short of terrifying. He remained unsuspecting and planned to keep it that way, deeming himself capable of being able to resist his maniacal urges. All until one conversation between the two. You had mentioned that your family had begun to run into a few financial problems, becoming entangled in a circle of debt. You had concluded that though you loved what you were doing, it couldn’t have been enough to support your situation so you had conversed with Diluc about going to Liyue to find extra work. All you knew was that there was a high chance you couldn’t stay grounded at the tavern forever, even rejecting Diluc’s offer of a raise, deeming that you didn’t deserve it and did not wish to trouble him. You saw this as a good opportunity to explore beyond the land of the wind that you had ironically been grounded at your entire life.

Oh no no no, this couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t allow it to happen. And that’s when he snapped.

Diluc’s mind worked quickly as he devised a dubious plan to keep you grounded. He knew what you were like; he knew you would be stubborn and go. He saw that shine of determination in your eyes when you mentioned your plans of fleeing Mondstadt, the same shine that he wanted to capture and keep for himself and oh boy, he was gonna have it. The next time you saw him, he had personally invited you to a party that he said he was hosting. You found it quite surprising since it was a rarity for him to ever host a party considering his nature but you accepted nonetheless. You trusted Diluc enough and besides, who would deny an invitation from someone like him. Little did you know, this was quite possibly one of the worst decisions you’ve made in your entire life.

“Dear, you’re spacing out again.” He spoke, a foreign tone that sounded so sickly sweet to a point where you wanted to hurl.

“Please don’t address me as such. You’re twisted for doing this. What do you even want from me? Huh? I can’t offer you anything so this is nothing but a waste of time.” You spat at him, harshly pulling your cheek away from his grasp.

“Your presence alone is enough to satisfy me. Also, I’d appreciate it if you stopped acting disobedient before I really lose my patience. I’ve been so patient with you, do you know that? I’ve been waiting for ages to have you all to myself like this but…” He paused for a moment.

“I was far too nice and considerate of your freedom. To think I’d let you leave just like that is absurd. That’s exactly why you’re here. I’d like to apologize in advance for tricking you into thinking there was an actual party, especially since you got all dressed up for me tonight but I believe this is quite the positive thing because now I’m the only one that gets to see you like this” He said as he gently lifted up a piece of fabric from your clothing.

“You wore the clothing I had custom made for you. I knew you would look ravishing in it. You’re my pretty little doll, aren’t you dear?” He said as he brought a piece up to his lips as they gently graced the smooth satin of your outfit.

A strange package had made its way to your doorstep days before this treacherous evening. When opening it up, it was revealed to be a black and red outfit made of what felt like to be the finest fabrics and silk you’ve ever seen. The first time you tried it on, you felt ecstatic with being gifted to you, blushing to yourself over the fact that Diluc had gone out of his way to get you something this stunning. Now, you wanted nothing more than to rip the thing off your body and run away from the damned place you were held captive but you knew it was no use at this point. Your body shivered at the coldness of the room as it felt like the sheer cold was steadily increasing.

“You’re shivering. You’re cold aren’t you?” Diluc said, having the audacity to chuckle at your pathetic state. You stayed quiet, not wanting to admit or give into anything.

“No response? Oh well, it’ll only be a matter of time until the possibility of freezing to death becomes exceptionally high. I’d rather not have that happen so I’ll do you a favour since you happen to be a little shy isn’t that right? You don’t need to be shy with me. Come here.” He says as he draws closer to you. Your chains rattled while you attempted to put as much distance as you could between you two but it was no use. He swiftly wrapped his arms around you, one hand wrapped around your waist, the other at the back of your head, pulling you into the crook of his neck. Your hands pushed against his chest in a poor attempt to put as much distance between you and him but in the end, you couldn't bring yourself to. The coldness of the room significantly weakened you although it ceased when he held you, his body warmth being enough for him and yourself as well. You cursed the pyro wielder and his antics. He knew that you’d be freezing, seeing this as the perfect opportunity to get closer to you. Your arms fell back on to you sides

“There you go, all relaxed now. See, nice and warm.” He cooed while stroking the back of your head lovingly. Although you were physically warm now, you still felt a shiver run down your spine at the touch of the pyro user.

“You’re sensitive to touch, how cute.” He stated before pulling away to look you in the eyes, the edges of his lips slightly upturned.

“On another note, I have some news to share with you.” He spoke out. Your eyebrows furrowed at the mention of more news, thinking there is no possible way that anything could get any worse; unfortunately, you were dead wrong.

“You see, I had the chance to speak with your parents the other day in regards to your financial situation. I explained to them that I was more than willing to help them but they became quite stubborn after I introduced my offer. I see where you get your stubbornness from now.” He sighed.

Your eyes widened, fear, anger and concern mixing in your (e/c) orbs.

“Diluc, I swear to the archons what did you--.” He brought a finger up to your lips to hush you from your growing concern.

“Hush now, there’s no need to get riled up, I’m not finished. Now quiet down and listen to me.” He stated.

“It was quite a simple offer I gave them, really. I would be a financial aid all in exchange for your hand in marriage. They started to get all defensive, claiming that they’d never marry off their child. They were oh so protective over you, but they could never come close to comparing to me.”

Dread and horror filled your eyes as you were rendered speechless, waves of unpleasant emotions washing over you like a tidal wave.

“You see, it definitely took a lot of work to get where we are now, but you need not to worry, dear. They will not be of any concern to us anymore.” He said as a smile graced his features. You would’ve considered him to be handsome in the moment but the smile he held was so deranged that it was appalling.

Tears welled up in your eyes, too afraid to even ask what happened to them or what became of them. You knew the situation; you knew the power that Diluc held. He was well aware of his looming power of you and he used it and abused it. It didn’t take very long for your tears to start streaming from your eyes as you began to sob, tears spilling onto your lap. Diluc cupped your face as he brushed away the oncoming tears that continued to overflow.

“Shhh, don’t cry my dear, this news is excellent. I couldn't even fathom you getting hurt or even leaving me but I don’t have to worry now do I? Because you’re going to be all mine.” He said before forcibly kissing your tear-stained cheeks.

You felt absolutely disgusting and embarrassed over the lips that graced your skin, having someone as unhinged and deranged as him seeing you in such a vulnerable and helpless state.

“You know, I’ve had my fair share of people both leave and betray me.They’ve left me alone in this world but none of it matters now that I have you here. You’re the most divine person I’ve come across. So lovely, so warm, and so bright, like the rays of sunlight. I want to bask in your presence and now, I can for however long I’d like. I refuse to lose anyone else, especially not you and now this time, I know I won’t. If your freedom has to be sacrificed in order for you to stay alive, so be it. I’ll choose you the finest white attire for our special day. You’ll be me precious darling for the rest of your days. Doesn’t that sound lovely, dear?” You remained unresponsive.

One of his hands slipped past the fabric of your clothing as his gloved fingertips lightly pressed onto the bare small of your back, earning a yelp from you.

“I said doesn’t that sound lovely? Respond when spoken to. I want to hear your voice.” He said sternly. You managed to mumble out a small yes in return.

“That’s my good little darling.” He spoke before before he pulled you in for a kiss. You refused to return the action and it certainly didn’t go over his head. The hand that rested on the small of your back began to get hotter, feeling as if it was searing your skin, earning a shriek and a cry from you, allowing him to deepen his passion filled kiss, smirking at the way you’ve decided to submit yourself to him while his own lips remained locked with your own.

The land of Mondstadt was said to be the land of freedom and yet here you were, your fate bound and chained by the insanity disguised as love by Diluc Ragnvindr. You were a delicacy to him, and he’d be sure to savour every last bit of you.

#genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #genshin impact diluc #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #delicacy

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the-redeemed-anon · 3 years

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Welp, since we got Wilbur back, let’s take a look at Eight

As a disclaimer, I’ll talk about the character, and if I mention the CC, I will label his name accordingly.

Okay, since the pog thing that happened on the 29th of April, and a couple of bad takes have already started to pop up Jesus Christ guys why do you want the dude that just got back to life after being trapped in limbo for over a decade to get beaten up violently- I think it’s appropriate to bring attention to the thing that gave me my pseudonym and my belief that we may get a redemption/healing arc for Wilbur: the song Eight, by Sleeping at Last.

Why this song matters, you may wonder. Well, it’s a song that we have confirmation to have been CC!Wilbur’s personal inspiration for his character, as said by CC!Wilbur himself. Not only does that give us insight into how and why Wilbur acted in certain ways in Season 1, but it also gives us the opportunity to see the inner turmoil he went through and still will.

Now keep in mind that this is just my interpretation of the song, other people may see the song differently, but overall looking at this song and looking for meaning into it I think is very useful if you plan to analyse Wilbur or even write about him. It truly gives you a lot of insight and context for how he was. Here is a link to it for you to listen to it, before I dive into the analysis.

First, let’s see what Eight is about, as a song. The song is about Type Eight of the Enneagram of Personality, which is basically a system that defines 9 different personality types. Sleeping at Last made a song for each Enneagram, actually, but we’re here to talk about Type 8 (also bear in mind I am not an expert in psychology, so I am not here to comment on the validity of this system. I’m here just to analyze a song lol).

What is Type 8 (aka a bit of analysis on Wilbur outside of the song)

Type 8 is often called the Challenger or the Protector. This type is characterized by a want to not show vulnerability, to have power. Their deepest fear is to not be in control of themselves, to be harmed, to be vulnerable, and their desire is to be in control of themselves, their life/destiny. They want respect over status, value loyalty and they want to make an impact on the world. You can start to see some core characteristics of Wilbur in this description.

We also have levels, from healthy to unhealthy, with which we can see what a Type 8 person can behave like.

Healthy Type 8 people act like a protector for others, they are the strong leaders, the challengers of oppression, the people who don’t stand for injustice in their communities. You can say they are the natural leader type, and I think you can start to see inklings of Wilbur’s personality from early Season 1 here. He started L’Manberg to challenge what he saw as tyranny. When Wilbur described the reasons he cared about L’Manberg, we can also notice that the values he lists align with the core desires of a Type 8: the desire to have control over their life, and not allow others to control them. By making L’Manberg to “stick it to the man“, Wilbur is very stereotypically a Type 8.

Average Type 8 people aren’t as open as someone on the healthy level is. Showing weakness is unacceptable. They may see relationships as the next challenge they need to surpass, and can come easily off as intimidating and ambitious to peers. To me, this sounds a bit like Wilbur after the War, before the announcement of the Festival. He was more closed off around that time, and you could argue that the Elections were a part of his ambition to prove that people respect him, that he can do this, rule a country. The new revelation that Wilbur was lying in his letters to Phil, about the Elections and the formation of Pogtopia also shows that he didn’t want to show weakness, to disappoint or worry his father.

Unhealthy Type 8 people become so closed off that they are intimidating and can appear tyrannical from the outside, often disregarding the feelings of others. They pursue power, and when someone stands in their way, they are cold and become quite antagonistic. They may issue empty threats in their pursuit for power, and their already existing relationships are turned into tests, where the only option is to pass or to fail, with no in-between. This can result in them being abandoned, and them accepting this as being better this way, to be alone. They can force themselves into loneliness.

If this sounds terribly familiar and recent, well... Wilbur, ever since the “Then let’s be the bad guys“ speech, has exhibited the traits of an unhealthy Type 8. Even now, post-resurrection, while he is trying to improve on himself, a lot of his traits remain or have worsened, due to staying in limbo for 13 years. He still has a persona under which he hides his issues, and as I have said in another post, he’s the emotional equivalent of a snail, you poke him gently and he completely retreats in his shell. Wilbur has actively driven people away from him for being so confrontational, and this can be seen again with Ranboo. All in all, Wilbur is definitely cozy in that section of the Type for now.

I also want to talk separately about three things:

1. The Pit

I won’t lie, the Pit is probably the most extreme thing Wilbur did to this date. It’s Wilbur at his lowest point morally and mentally, reveling in his brother figure fighting a much tougher opponent and losing. I won’t sit here and say he was right, nor am I gonna condemn you for your opinion on the Pit, but, when you look at Wilbur’s enneagram, the Pit and why it happened makes sense. What happened right before? The Festival. The Festival was meant to be the time Wilbur either blew up Manberg or left it be, based on Tubbo’s call. Wilbur prepared for those two scenarios, and felt in control of the situation... then it all went horribly wrong. The situation spiraled wildly out of Wilbur’s grasp and it ended with the death of Tubbo and the possibility of Techno being on Schlatt’s side.

This started a breakdown fueled by paranoia that led to the Pit, to Wilbur goading Techno and Tommy to fight. The question is, why? Why do that?

To regain control. Wilbur, in my opinion, did that in an attempt to regain control, after the Festival slipped so hard from his grasp, no matter his effort to keep control of it. That was his urge, that was his need in the moment, no matter how messed up it was, he may have felt like this was necessary. Remember, the core fear of Eights is to not be in control of their own life and destiny, to be puppeteered by someone else. This is why the Pit happened, when you acknowledge the fact that Wilbur was unstable mentally, and he is the type of person to want control.

2. The want to protect others

This is a quality of healthy Eights that still shines through with Wilbur, but it’s sadly overshadowed by his more antagonistic or morally darker actions and quotes.

Wilbur was naturally a protective person. Because Eights challenge authority, this makes them see the world as being inhabited by those who are strong and those who are weak, and not in a bad way. Eights consider themselves part of the strong ones, because they stand up for themselves, but because they see the world also inhabited by the weak, they have the urge to protect them. They also stand up for whom they think can’t stand up for themselves on their own, they think they are responsible for the protection of others.

And when you look at Wilbur, this shines through. He made himself President, and while no one protested, he did it because he felt he was the one fit for the role. Even at the time this scene happened, you can see why Wilbur would have perceived Tommy, Tubbo and Fundy as weaker than him: Fundy was his son, and Tommy and Tubbo, no matter the age intended at the time, were always viewed as younger than him, not to say, Tommy had just lost 2 lives back-to-back. Therefore, Wilbur put himself in charge and with the duty to protect the nation and its people, as the President.

Wilbur even says this in the flashback from Quackity’s stream:

[“What has made you do everything you’ve done up to this point?” (Quackity)

“That’s a- That’s a big question. Um. I guess it’s just protection for my people. I mean, I- I- I just want to see them thrive, and I want to see them safe.” (Alivebur) - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:03:02, 12th Apr)]

It’s clear, Wilbur has a desire to protect his nation, and, by extension, his people, his friends, especially with the following quote once Quackity replies: [“Your aspirations of optimism are not going to be subject to my nation’s security I’m afraid. I- I completely disagree with everything you’ve said.” - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:05:18, 12th Apr)] He keeps hammering in the idea that he did what he did to protect and offer safety to his friends. That’s why he needed power: [“If you want to really help people, you’re gonna need power, Quackity.” - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:05:42, 12th Apr)]

And again, this happens even after the “Then let’s be the bad guys“ speech. Even though he initially says he wants to kill everyone at the Festival, when confronted with this on the day of the event, he second-guesses himself. He doesn’t want to hurt his friends, he doesn’t want to hurt people weaker than him. He distrusts Tubbo, but the moment Techno fires the first rocket, he’s shocked, appalled and moves to go to the button, while urging Tommy to act. When Schlatt wants to kill Niki, he steps out and offers himself to be killed and no one else be harmed.

Even the act of pushing the button himself, there are Wilbur analysts who have pointed out that Wilbur may have wanted to be stopped. And even then, the explosion created no casualties, thanks to all of them wearing armor.

In the Void, Wilbur talks about how he’s evil, how the server is better off without him. He recognizes himself as a hazard, and while that is a part of his self-loathing and hatred, you can also see his care for others shine through: he didn’t want to come back at the time, because he thought he would bring back conflict, suffering [“Here’s the thing, I genuinely think, if it weren’t for me and you dying right, the server would be in shambles. I know for a fact that if I come back, or if I’m brought back to life in some way it’s definitely gonna just go [shit again]” “I know what I’m like, that’s the issue.” - (Tommy’s am i dead?: 10:29, 4th March)]. By staying dead, at this point, he was continuing to prevent weaker people from being harmed.

Even now, post-resurrection, we can see this, but, well...

3. Opinion on Dream

I have looked at this before, from the angle of Wilbur’s mentality. We all know his opinion on Dream so far, that he would have killed him on the spot for what happened to Tommy in the Exile, but Wilbur still considers him his hero. While I said at the time that it may be a subtle way for Wilbur to cloak his self-loathing and self-hatred, but now I want to look at the first part again, from the perspective of Type 8:

Wilbur, by having the urge to kill Dream on the spot, for what he did to Tommy in Exile (and, keep in mind, Ghostbur wasn’t there for all of it, so Wilbur did not see the destruction of Logsted and why it happened, or how Tommy was completely isolated from everyone after the party, and Tommy referred to Dream as his owner to Mexican Dream), no matter what he says after about Dream, proves that he still has the quality to want to protect the weak.

Dream, as always, is one of the strong people of the server. He’s the owner, he has a lot of items and good gear, and in general, everyone recognizes him with a level of danger he presents, and power. Tommy, on the other hand, is one of the weaker ones.

While Tommy has valuable traits, like his loyalty, his fierce determination and the will to keep moving despite how low life kicks him at times, one can’t deny that, in general, Tommy is viewed as one of the weak. He doesn’t have that many powerful items, he isn’t physically that strong, people constantly pick on him, and he is one of the minors of the server, the youngest of them, in fact. Add to that the humiliation of Exile and the treatment he was put through, Tommy was not only at his weakest then, but also at his most vulnerable.

Why would it be a surprise then for Wilbur to want to gut Dream, considering the above? Tommy and Wilbur were very close. As Wilbur acknowledged in the latest stream: [“We were a family, Tommy. We were…” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 27:26, 5th May)], they were once so close they could have been brothers. Tommy stuck with Wilbur as a right hand man, he was the only one who didn’t give up on him in Pogtopia, no matter if he thought his choices were right or wrong, and Wilbur confided in Tommy a lot. Now take this little brother figure he had in Tommy, and put him through Exile.

Of course Wilbur would want to gut Dream, Tommy may as well be part of his family, and Wilbur doesn’t strike me as the kind to want his loved ones in pain, genuinely. He may dismiss the feelings Tommy has sometimes, but his reaction to Exile shows that he isn’t blind to suffering. He saw it and recognized as harmful and damaging to Tommy, unprompted by anyone else.

He even makes a comment that I think may be important in the future: [“Tommy, I’m not, I’m not- I wasn’t blind, I saw what he was doing to you, Tommy. I saw. I saw what he was doing to Tubbo. I saw what he did to me.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 21:08, 5th May)]. Remember, Wilbur right now is deeply conflicted, I don’t think he’s properly sorted his feelings on Dream yet. He, in this quote, recognizes he saw how Dream treated Tommy, Tubbo and himself. While Eights want to protect the weak, their core fear is being controlled or harmed by others. I am very curious what will happen if, or, when, Wilbur will decide that Dream is also a hazard to himself, or if Dream will try to use Wilbur for his own plans. But, this is starting to deviate from the purpose of this post so, with that out of the way...

The lyrics:

I remember the minute It was like a switch was flipped I was just a kid who grew up strong enough To pick this armor up And suddenly it fit

Here, Wilbur’s arc and story begins. The lyric recount the moment Wilbur’s spiral began: the Final Control Room. He remembers that betrayal up to his death, still calling Eret a traitor and quoting him, with the same quote he used: “It was never meant to be”. This moment is what will define and shape Wilbur throughout Season 1, and even now. The switch mentioned is the button pressed, the moment everything changed. “I was just a kid” is Wilbur recognizing that he was not ready for the role of President, sentiment reflected by the rest of the lyrics: “who grew up strong enough/To pick this armor up”. Wilbur forced himself to bear the title of president, like a suit of armor, something that protects you, and helps you to fight for others, until “suddenly it fit”.

God, that was so long ago, long ago, long ago I was little, I was weak and perfectly naive And I grew up too quick

Here Wilbur internally recognizes that time passed, his ideology changed, as evident the quotes from Quackity’s stream: [“You say, you say everyone has a good side, Quackity. And you’re right, you’re right, everyone has a good side, but that good side is only there to help themselves. If you want to really help people, you’re gonna need power, Quackity. You can make a movement, you can make a resistance, right, you can go out and you can come back, and they’ll give you a ticker tape parade. They’ll cheer for you in the streets, but you will change nothing. If you have a revolution, everyone will hate you, you will sacrifice everything, and you will lose everything you’ve ever had, but you’ll come back and everything will be changed. And Quackity, if you want to change things, you’re gonna need power. That’s what you want, really, isn’t it? Look at me. And power isn’t gaining from diplomacy, and bureaucracy, and giant courthouses suspended in the sky, blah blah blah. It’s gained from swords, Quackity. It’s gained from blades, it’s gained from steel, iron. Even if everyone has this good side that you’re talking about, then anyone who wants to prove it, has to show their dark side first. You’re going to have to kill, you’re going to have to torture, you’re going to have to maim.” - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:06:34, 12th Apr)]. Yet, even if this happened so “long ago, long ago, long ago”, he “grew up too quick”, because the change was too sudden, and it didn’t occur naturally.

Now you won't see all that I have to lose And all I've lost in the fight to protect it I won't let you in, I swore never again I can't afford, no, I refuse to be rejected

I think this verse refers to the Election and its fallout. He quite literally loses a lot on that day, not only his country and his second life, but seemingly, his son, because Fundy takes down the walls. Wilbur also lost a lot in the Independence War, as he lost his first life in there, his son and allies lost their lives too, and this created the perfect environment for paranoia around trust to form. Wilbur, at this point, swears to not let himself be vulnerable with anyone again, or to fully trust people, because of what happened in the Final Control Room and at the Elections. The last line is Wilbur deciding to go ahead and start Pogtopia, to reclaim his nation. As you may remember, the Election was held so that Wilbur could legitimize his presidency, because he felt people started to not listen to him anymore, and an election, in his mind, would have fixed that. Due to his paranoia, and depression, Wilbur couldn’t afford to lose, because the presidency was one of the things that gave him happiness and helped him function. Once he lost and was banished, he decided to strike back and take back the country, or, as the lyrics say, “I refuse to be rejected”.

I want to break these bones 'til they're better I want to break them right and feel alive You were wrong, you were wrong, you were wrong My healing needed more than time

People who’ve broken a bone before may be familiar with this, but there is a possibility for a broken bone to heal incorrectly, so, when that happens, the bone is broken again and you try again. What that lyric means is that Wilbur was not healing properly, and he was constantly damaging himself again, to restart the process, to make his bones stronger, to make himself better. The “feel alive“ part, in my opinion, goes hand in hand with the fact that Wilbur was... not in the best place mentally in that time. We all know how he died, and, to be honest, a lot of the morally bad things Wilbur did could be argued to have been done to give him something to live, be it thrill or satisfaction. The last two lyrics, I feel, are directed to Tommy; Wilbur needed more than just time to “come back around“, and we know how Season 1 ended.

Now, this may be a controversial take, but... This is the end of Wilbur’s Season 1 arc. I think this is as far as Wilbur’s parallel to Eight went in Season 1, it’s the Pogtopia Era, up to November 16th. You may say that it’s his unfinished son- *gunshots*

Okay, okay, but what does that mean for the rest of the song? Well... It could be that either CC!Wilbur will stop with the Eight parallels here, or, the version I like, it means that the rest of the song is a hint for insight into how Wilbur feels and how his character will change in the future.

When I see fragile things, helpless things, broken things I see the familiar I was little, I was weak, I was perfect, too Now I'm a broken mirror

This is Wilbur recognizing that he is not okay, internally, which we know is a thing in canon, because of this quote from the Resurrection stream: [”Are you trying to- Are you trying to make me- Tommy, are you trying to make me- You remember that time in the cave? Are you trying- Are you trying do- Are you trying to make me feel like I did back then, in Pogtopia? Are you trying to- Are you trying to make me feel as bad as I did back then? ‘Cause it’s not gonna work!” - (Tommy’s Breaking Into Prison To Kill Dream: 59:06, 29th Apr)] It’s a great step for Wilbur, afterall, healing starts when you recognize you have a problem, so you can begin fixing it, but, as we know...

But I can't let you see all that I have to lose All I've lost in the fight to protect it I can't let you in, I swore never again I can't afford to let myself be blindsided

Wilbur is the emotional equivalent of a snail. Here we see “Snailbur” doing a reprise of the third paragraph, which I linked to him in the Election Era and its fallout. From the way the lyrics are worded, we can see the how similar they are, but there is a difference: reluctance. Wilbur knows he’s not okay, but he can’t reach out for help, because then, he’ll be showing weakness, but he wants to open up. “Now” becomes “but”, “I won’t let you in” becomes “I can’t let you in”. Now he’s not afraid of rejection, he doesn’t want to be blindsided, which I didn’t know at first what it meant, because my native language is not English, but when I looked it up I came across this definition: “to surprise someone, usually with harmful results”. This shows us something important: Wilbur is hiding his true feelings because he’s afraid to not be hurt again. He doesn’t want another Final Control Room or Election to happen to him.

I'm standing guard, I'm falling apart And all I want is to trust you Show me how to lay my sword down For long enough to let you through

This set confirms it, Wilbur is on the defense now, he’s defending from potential hurt, and the second part of the first lyric is hinting at what a lot of Wilbur analysts have pointed out and we are prepping for: Wilbur having a big crash from the high he’s experiencing from getting resurrected, he’ll be “falling apart“, he’ll be vulnerable, and open to hurt, or... Redemption. This is it. This is the section that made me insist and theorize about a redemption/healing arc: that second lyric, continuing with the rest: Wilbur is reaching out to someone or some people, that he can put his trust to. Wilbur doesn’t just need someone willing to redeem him, because we had that in Pogtopia, with Tommy, no, Wilbur also needs himself to open up, trust people and ask for help. And that is exactly what happens in the last two lyrics: Wilbur is asking for help to open up and let people help him.

Here I am, pry me open What do you want to know? I'm just a kid who grew up scared enough To hold the door shut And bury my innocence But here's a map, here's a shovel Here's my Achilles' heel

And here we have it. Wilbur opening up. Wilbur finally letting someone in, admitting he’s scared, he’s scared of hurting again, comparing himself to a kid. This one I find very symbolic, because if he, at the beginning, was a kid, then by admitting he is a kid at this stage, he’s the same person he was at the beginning, with the good he had, with the flaws he had, what he did and the trauma he gained will never erase that. The innocence in this part of the song, I think is Ghostbur. People forget, but while Ghostbur seems to be a separate entity, he’s still very much a version of Wilbur. He has a lot of his memories, his happy ones. Wilbur and Ghostbur are the two sides of the same coin, different, yet so much alike. You need both to understand the other. Wilbur has the capacity to be innocent, to be kind, good, he just... buried these qualities, and someone has to help him dig them up, when he is ready to open up. I don’t think I need to explain the meaning of someone showing you their Achilles’ heel, beside the fact that it means they trust you with their life. Wilbur needs to find someone to trust.

I'm all in, palms out I'm at your mercy now and I'm ready to begin I am strong, I am strong, I am strong enough to let you in

Here, I think we see Wilbur accepting the consequences of his actions, of the hurt he caused, because, while he’s not irredeemable, he did hurt people, and he needs to be open to them not forgiving them, but, as the song says, just then he’ll be “ready to begin” his healing and redemption. And right at the end there, “I am strong” is repeated thrice, he’s ready to heal, to be vulnerable with someone. It’s the redemption in full swing from here to the end.

I'ma shake the ground with all my might And I will pull my whole heart up to the surface For the innocent, for the vulnerable And I'll show up on the front lines with a purpose

Remember what I said, about healthy Eights? Champions of the people, natural leaders, challengers of oppression and protectors of the weak? This is what Wilbur should become at the end of the redemption, if we are to follow the song. He’s gonna put all of his strength into fighting for what’s right, and he’ll open up, he will heal. We’ll be back to fighting for “the innocent, for the vulnerable”, he’ll have a purpose to fulfill. L’Manberg was deeply tied to both Wilbur and Ghostbur, and Wilbur himself admitted to caring about L’Manberg because what it stood for. Now, L’Manberg is gone, but those ideals aren’t. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll fight in the future to protect those ideals.

And, finally:

And I'll give all I have, I'll give my blood, give my sweat An ocean of tears will spill for what is broken I'm shattered porcelain, glued back together again Invincible like I've never been

I really like the end here. Because, it’s not only reinforcing the idea that Wilbur will be redeemed, but that penultimate lyric always stood out for me: “I'm shattered porcelain, glued back together again”. Porcelain is, while very fragile, a beautiful material. When I think of the word, I think of beautiful vases, handcrafted with skill and care. It’s a shame when a porcelain vase breaks. But, just because something is broken, it doesn’t mean it can’t be repaired. And when I think of repaired porcelain, I think of the Japanese art of kintsugi - a technique with which broken pottery is glued in such a way that the cracks aren’t hidden, but celebrated as a part of the object’s history, by filling them in with gold. I like to think that at the end of his healing arc, Wilbur will be similar, he was broken, he healed, but the scars are still there, and, even then, he’ll be thriving again. It’ll be an experience that, overall, helped him become better. And the final lyric: “Invincible like I've never been“, I like to think that this will be him at his peak: healed, happy, ready to take life by the horns, like he wasn’t before. It’s a hopeful, happy note to finish the song and his story on.

And that is my analysis on the song and the enneagram, I guess (Jesus this got waaay longer than I expected). I really hope Wilbur will get a redemption arc, it’s already wonderful that we have him back AND he wants to live (it’s honestly the first time I see, in any media, a suicide victim that not only is brought back to life, but they are happy to be back). Hopefully this is useful to people, and, as always, thanks to @kateis-cakeis for compiling Wilbur’s/Ghostbur’s quotes in a masterlist with timestamps and anything you’d want to know about them. It’s a goldmine of analyzing Wilbur and I highly encourage you to check it out.

#dream smp #dsmp #wilbur soot #dsmp wilbur #dream smp analysis #dmp analysis #dream smp character analysis #dsmp character analysis #finally... after 3000 years... the Eight analysis is complete #this took so long I am sorry lmao #now I can go focus on schoolwork #and before someone says it I'll say it #snailbur effervescent

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simpingforsoftboys · 3 years

Text

Curiosity Killed the Cat

ft. Kuroken

G/N Reader

Read this first

Mini Series Here

Thanks so much for the request anon! I actually went back and forth with this- but I’m finally satisfied with how this turned out! Hope you enjoy!

Kenma hated these types of events. Blaring music, flashing lights, horny drunk people, crowded spaces. Yes, parties were the worst- but it wasn’t like he could tell Kuroo “no, I’m not going to attend your best friend’s 27th birthday party just because.” Which is why they’re in Osaka and not Tokyo at the moment. Kuroo had gone off to god knows where- claiming he was going to get some drinks for them- but that was 15 minutes ago and he still hadn’t returned. Shoyo was arriving late, so there was no one the dyed blonde felt comfortable with speaking too. Seeing no other option, he decided to seek Kuroo out on his own.

“Excuse me.” The short male muttered as he nudged people aside to get to the bar. No one seemed to mind, too caught up in their dancing- probably thanks to their alcohol induced haze. His skin crawled in disgust as he passed by some chick who was making out with Miya Atsumu- if Shoyo was right with his suspicions, Sakusa Kiyoomi would not be happy. He pushed that thought aside. Eventually he made it to the bar- successfully locating Kuroo. “I was waiting what’s-” He was shut up by his fiance’s hand over his mouth.

“Shh... look over there, across the counter- is that Y/n?” Kenma followed where Kuroo was pointing, they couldn’t see the persons face, but they had a similar figure and skin tone to your own. Suddenly the person turned- but they realized that it wasn’t you.

It had been two, nearly three years since your emotional breakup, and they still found themselves looking for you in every room they entered. Kenma hadn’t gotten over his love for you- he doubted he ever would, but it was just another thing he had learned to live with. Kuroo slowly began to realize how much of an impact you had on his daily life, things he had previously taken for granted like a homemade meal at the end of a long day, hot bath prepped and ready, folded clothes and cute little notes. Those things were gone now, so he and Kenma had to step up and do it- until eventually they just decided to hire someone to do it for them. It wasn’t the same- sure, the housekeeper did an amazing job, but the difference was palpable. It sounded dumb but they could just feel the lack of love- your absence had created a void in the large penthouse.

It had taken time, but Tetsuro realized that yeah, he did love you- not as much as Kenma- yet, it was a tangible love all the same. Which is why it hurt him that day- not only because you left them, but because you didn’t feel loved by him. He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry at you- that was his own doing. All you had done was leave him with happy memories.

Kenma found himself reverting back to his old habits. Their home was a lot lonelier without you. Kuroo often went on weeks- if not months long- business trips for the volleyball association, leaving Kenma home alone for lengthy periods of time. No longer did he have you to keep him company or monitor his sleeping or eating habits. Even his viewers had noticed his unhealthy lifestyle and urged him to take better care of himself, but it wasn’t the same. So, without anyone there to stop him, he would fall into ruin- because then, when he was exhausted or kept occupied by the newest trending game title- he wouldn’t be thinking about all that he was missing.

Neither of them had spoken- or even checked up on you since that day, those few years ago. You had blocked them on everything, made your accounts private, changed your phone number, and asked your mutual friends to not share anything about you with them. It hurt- because how can you so easily shut out the people you love- but after much thought and consideration, they realize you had to be hurting twice as bad as they did. Unlike them, you had the time to simmer in your pain, hurt, and longing, while they remained oblivious.

Ignorance was bliss.

The two of them left Bokuto’s party early that night, Kuroo said something about an emergency Skype meeting in the morning as an excuse. In actuality they found themselves driving to one of your favorite restaurants- they hadn’t stepped a foot inside the establishment since the last time they ate here with you. But- as it was for many things apparently- tonight seemed to be one all about stepping out of their comfort zones.

“What are you getting?” Kuroo tried to act casual, but Kenma had known him much too long to fall for his act.

“I think I’ll get (f/f).”

Kuroo nodded. “I think I will too.” Neither of them particularly liked (f/f), but it had been your go to order. Maybe by being here and eating the familiar dish, they could pretend that they were simply on a date as a triad- and you were running late- instead of dealing with the reality that they were a couple now and not a throuple.

Their food arrives and they dig in, eating slowly, eyes shutting occasionally, it seems like they’re merely savoring the flavor- when in reality they’re trying to picture you dining with them. No words are exchanged between the two- they’re together yes, but it’s somehow a lonely occasion all the same.

If you were here, the table would be filled with easy conversation- you were always so neutral when you spoke, teasing when you felt particularly daring (they realize now that this was such a rarity because you were hesitant about starting an altercation- which no one should have to be afraid of in any relationship). Kenma would let himself loosen up and exchange snarky words with Kuroo, who quipped back savagely, and you would watch them- laughter spilling from your lips. Too bad they didn’t try harder to include you in the conversation- not that they intentionally alienated you- just that they were enjoying themselves too much to bat an eye in your direction.

Yeah, it was better for you that you weren’t here. That was a fact they still had trouble stomaching.

They hear the restaurant’s door opening in the background, but don’t care enough to look who entered. It doesn’t matter to either of the two that it’s late at night and logically there shouldn’t be anyone else here but them. Their imagined scenario is much more appealing than real life.

“Put me down Tsutomu!” A male scolds from the lobby area, despite their best efforts, they’re unable to block the newcomers voices out.

Another male laughs in response. “Calm down Kenji, I got you!”

“Hahah! Why are you so red Kenji-” Someone else adds, this person’s voice is familiar. Kenma and Tetsuro freeze at the sound. It’s kind of weird how they recognize it- despite having slowly forgotten what it sounded like over the course of passing time. You know how each time you recall a memory it actually ends up altering it a little? That’s how it was with your voice. Eventually their recollection of it was changed to the point that they couldn’t quite remember how exactly your laughter sounded, or even how your pitch changed with various moods.

Their ears were filled with you- wonderful, gorgeous, breathtaking you- the one who cared too much and pushed aside prioritizing yourself until eventually you couldn’t take it anymore. The Y/n that they still, could never seem to love enough- even now. But it was dissimilar all the same, since you sounded so happy, so content- what was weird was that they didn’t even need to see your face to confirm it.

Neither of them dare to look in your direction, afraid that you’d disappear right before their eyes. It isn’t until they see your approaching figure in their peripheral that they glance over.

You’re positively glowing. It feels like you’re an entire galaxy- so far and out of reach- and they’re merely stargazers. They’re stuck on Earth, forever fated to watch and appreciate your splendor from an impossibly wide distance.

The purple-nearly black haired man that accompanies you pulls your chair out, gesturing to your seat with exaggerated motions. You laugh, sitting down in the most graceful manner possible and let him push your seat in. He places a kiss to your temple before going to pull out a chair for the other brown haired male- whose cheeks are still tinted red.

The three of you order appetizers and speak about many things- Kuroo can overhear ‘volleyball’ and ‘hospital’ mentioned somewhere in the mix. The two men- your apparent lovers- don’t even have to make an effort to include you in their conversation, it’s like second nature for them, just as it should have been for him and Kenma. They listen intently as you ramble on about whatever, the shorter brown haired one adding his two cents in occasionally, while the taller male questions or presses you for more details.

“Kuroo I’m not hungry anymore.” Kenma says, and only now does Tetsuro notice how upset his fiance is. Normally the half blonde is composed and neutral, but right now his face is scrunched up like he smelt something sour. The feeling is mutual. He isn’t happy with the situation either.

"Do you want to head back to the hotel?”

“No, let’s stay a little longer.”

So they stay, silently watching as you make lively conversation with your lovers. Observing as you polish off your plates and finish dessert, they’re still seated when the throuple pays the bill and walks out the exit. Eventually the elderly owner comes out and asks them if they want to order anything else- a polite way of letting them know that they’ve overstayed their welcome.

They tell her no, pay their own bill, and head back to their car. They sit there in the parking lot a little longer.

“Hey Kenma.” Kuroo murmurs, fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

“Hm?” Kenma hums.

“Do you think we could have made it work?” It’s a question that they’ve never actually voiced out loud- not even once- in the years since the breakup.

“Why do you ask? You already know the answer.” Is what he receives in response. Kenma’s right, he did know.

“I... guess I needed to hear it.” He says lamely.

He turns the key and starts the ignition. They drive back to their hotel in silence.

They made their beds a long time ago. So it’s only right that they lie in it- even if the bedsheets are uncomfy and the blanket threatens to suffocate them.

Kenma regrets wondering about how you were doing now. At least before tonight he was able to take comfort in the fact that you still might be in love with them.

The old idiom was right. Curiosity killed the cat. And he certainly felt like he was dying.

A/N: Believe it or not the inspo behind this was the song Good Stuff by Griff. I really liked the whole idea of Kuroken x reader ending on semi good terms. The difference between how their emotions for the reader portrayed here vs IwaOi is an example of this. Unlike IwaOi, Kuroken is able to identify their emotions when given time and space, they’re not necessarily prideful and can acknowledge that despite being broken up with, they’re still the ones who were left with “the good stuff.”

They miss you sure, but they know it’s unfair to want you to come back to them when they’ll never be able to love you as they should. So they don’t even bother wishing or seeking you out. Of course, they do their best to maintain some semblance of a connection to you (like why they look for you in crowded rooms and eat your favorite food), but they’re fine with remaining curious. Of course no one can remain willfully ignorant forever though.

#answered.requests #haikyuu poly au #kuroo x reader x kenma #kuroken x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kenma kozume x reader #kenma x reader #kenma x y/n #kenma x you #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #shirabu x y/n #shirabu x reader #shirabu kenjiro x reader #goshiki x reader #goshiki tsutomu x reader #shiragoshi x reader #shirabu x reader x goshiki

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drxwsyni · 4 years

Text

“You know how dangerous it is out there. You’re so much safer with me.” ︱Yandere Chisaki Kai/Overhaul x gn!Reader

Anonymous asked: “Can you do 4 for Overhaul?”

Warnings: unhealthy relationship, manipulation

_____

“It’s just...I think I’d feel a little better if I had a job right now. To give me some sense of purpose...or something.”

Your partner, stoic as ever at the moment, maybe only a tab bit less in your presence, processed your words. Chisaki sat at his desk, hunched over with an expression suggesting he was deep in thought. You remained on the other side of his desk, standing at attention, as if you were his employee and not his lover.

His mask was off, an admission he granted only you. It made his voice clear as day while he responded, you noting the lowness hinting at a certain displeasure at the subject matter of your current conversation. “I believe we’ve discussed this before, angel. There’s no need for you to work when I can easily provide for you.”

Naturally, he misses the point completely.

Slightly deterred, you fight to keep that understanding and openly warm appearance. His amber eyes never leaving your form, you reply. “I know...I just feel aimless when I’m here. I’m grateful for everything you do for me, really. But I can’t help but get a little frustrated when I have nothing to offer you in repayment. Not to mention that it’s not exactly...typical, for someone of my age and good health to be unemployed. I think it’d be best for me to go back to work, Kai.”

A heavy silence hung in the air. The atmosphere wasn’t unfamiliar. You were convinced at this point that Chisaki knew how uneasy he could make you, and how he could contrast it by the strange comfort that his voice and words could bring back instantly.

He rose from his chair, rounding the desk and drawing closer to you as he spoke. “If I’m not wrong, you had the same concerns about a month ago, yes?”

You nodded, eyes trained on his approaching form.

“So…” He stood in front of you now, looking down at your worried expression, hands coming to rest at your hips. “...Can you tell me what I said back then?”

Nervously, you averted your gaze. His hands gently squeezed at your waist, urging you to respond. And you did, with no other choice. You cursed yourself for the tone of your voice, sounding like that of a child who’d just been scolded and is now forced to admit their faults. “You said...that I’d be at risk because of your occupation. And that I might not be able to defend myself without a quirk.”

Consciously, you avoided the term yakuza like it would curse you if you spoke it aloud. It was never a reality you liked to dwell on, the unknown implications something you didn’t want to think about. Not like Chisaki would indulge you in the less than savoury things he dealt with anyways, a topic he deemed would only harm you. But you didn’t have to like any part of it. You didn’t have to like how it held you back from living an average, more independent life.

It was too bad your loyalty to him, and your love, was a force stronger than those that would have you leaving him in favour of the free world.

That still didn’t stop the frustration from growing inside of you though. A helplessness, a want to insist that everything would be fine if he just gave you a chance to prove yourself. Those defences were breaking at the seams, your understanding attitude crumbling into conflicting complacency.

An ungloved hand came to lightly grip your chin, tilting your head to face him.

Now it really felt as if you were a child, the man before you addressing your concerns with the same scripted response. Dismissing and unrelenting, because he always knew what words would ease your mind away from this fixation.

“I only want what’s best for you.” A thumb swiped a tear from your cheek that you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “My angel...it hurts me to see you upset like this.”

There was nothing left to be said on your half. A part of you knew before walking into his office that things would only end up one way.

You’d try to reason with him. Try to put some distance between you and Chisaki so you felt more like a human, and less like a misbehaving pet that needed to be watched and disciplined 24/7. And then, just like how it was unfolding now, he’d refuse to loosen that leash. You’ll wonder if his claims of your security were as imperative as he made them to be. And then you’ll go back to routine.

A small disapproving sigh escaped his lips, and the hand still on your hip wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. His other hand came to rest on the back of your head, coaxing you to settle into his embrace. Like always, he had an uncanny talent for prying out your conflicted emotions, and calming them with a few reassuring words and warm actions.

The microscopic hint of doubt flickered in the back of your mind, holding on by a thread in hopes of your concerns making a comeback.

But of course, Chisaki wouldn’t be having any of that.

“You know how dangerous it is out there.” His hold tightened slightly, adding emphasis to his words. “...You’re so much safer with me.”

He spoke softly, knowing that the gentleness was all you needed to submit to his unfaltering ideas. And like putty in his hands, you did.

Just like you always would.

#yandere bnha #yandere overhaul #yandere chisaki kai #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #yandere chisaki #yandere overhaul x reader #yandere #yandere writing #yanderecore #bnha fanfiction

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izzyfandoms · 4 years

Text

Buy One, Get Six Free

(Thomas and Remy have been together for a while now, and it’s going well, but there’s one problem. Remy doesn’t know that Thomas has sides.

What happens when Thomas finally tells him the truth? How will Remy react? And will Remy love the sides as much as they love him?)

SHIPS: Sleepmas, Losleep, Sleepality, Rosleep, Sleepxiety, Sleepceit, Dukesleep

WARNINGS: Sympathetic Deceit, Sympathetic Remus, Remus says some mildly sexual/gory things but nothing actually happens

TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @ajdraws0430 @phantomofthesanderssides @creativity-killed-thekitten @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgromlin

Masterpost

Thomas bit his lip, pacing back and forth across the living room floor and wringing his hands. He routinely checked the clock, watching the seconds tick by, getting closer and closer to 2pm. His stomach filled with dread as the sides all watched him walk, a strange mixture of excitement, neutrality, and downright terror.

“Okay… but, like, what if he freaks out?” Virgil spoke up suddenly. “This is a bad idea, one of the worst ideas we’ve ever had. Why are we doing this? We’re just gonna ruin everything. He’s gonna think we’re super weird and dump Thomas immediately, and then we’ll be alone forever.”

Thomas made a pained sound, as did Roman, and Logan sighed.

“Virgil, we don’t know that,” He said calmly. “And, based on prior behaviour, I doubt Remy will react like that. It is more likely that he’ll be confused than anything else. Besides, communication is a necessity in any long-term relationship, it would be unhealthy to keep this from him for much longer.”

Patton nodded eagerly. “Yeah, and Remy loves Thomas, he’s not gonna leave him just ‘cos of this!”

Virgil didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t say anything else, silently chewing his thumb as he sat at the foot of the stairs.

“Do you think he’ll wanna fuck us, too?” Remus grinned, practically bouncing up and down on the spot, and Roman gasped beside him, kicking his brother in the shin.

“Don’t be crude, oh, evil twin of mine, we should focus on the romance!” Roman said. “And, besides, you’re the ugly one, anyway.”

Before this could escalate into a full-on brawl – which it likely would have, given how most arguments with the twins turned out – Deceit intervened, two extra arms appearing at his waist, stretching out and pushing the brothers apart. Fortunately, Thomas was too busy stressing out to notice, or he might have actually thrown up.

All of a sudden, they heard a knock at the door – three raps, and then the doorbell rang.

It was Remy.

Logan straightened up, adjusting his tie. “We’re sticking to the plan,” He said, leaving no room for disagreement. “We’ll all sink out, and then, when Thomas cues us, I will appear, and we will explain the situation to Remy. If he is agreeable, Patton can appear, too, and possibly Roman. We do not want to overwhelm him.”

The doorbell rang again, and Thomas rushed over to the door. He looked back at his sides, watching them all sink out – some wishing him good luck, but most just disappearing without a word – before opening it, and coming face-to-face with his boyfriend.

“’Sup, babe,” Remy greeted, before his brow pinched together, and he tilted his head. “You look stressed. You good?”

“Yup!” Thomas answered, his voice just a little too high, and not convincing either of them.

Remy nodded slowly. “Uh huh… sure. You wanna talk about it?”

“Later.”

His boyfriend didn’t look like he believed that, either, despite it being the honest truth, but he didn’t press, instead lifting the two to-go cups in his hands.

“I brought coffee.”

Thomas smiled genuinely as Remy handed him the cup, taking a large sip with a content sigh, and stepping to the side so his boyfriend could enter the apartment. There were a few moments of silence, and that was when Thomas noticed that Remy was staring at him.

“What?”

Remy let out an exaggerated gasp. “Wow, I’m out here looking like a snack and you’re just not going to kiss me? Rude.”

Thomas couldn’t help but laugh, leaning down and pecking his (short) boyfriend on the lips. When he pulled back, Remy gave him one of those soft smiles that made his heart do cartwheels in his chest (and maybe Patton was doing cartwheels in the mindscape, too, there was really no way to tell).

Remy took Thomas’s hand, tracing random shapes across his palm with his finger.

“So,” He began. “Are you gonna tell me what’s up, or am I gonna have to guess?”

Thomas tried not to panic and freeze at the question, he really did, but Remy noticed anyway, looking back up at him with concern.

“I need to tell you something,” Thomas admitted. “It’s nothing bad, it’s just… there’s something about me that you need to know, and you’re probably gonna want to sit down for this.”

He led Remy over to the couch, and they both sat down.

“I, uh…” Thomas trailed off. He sighed; this was going to be hard to explain. “Just- um…”

He waved his hand, deciding to just rip off the band-aid, without any preamble, and Logan rose up in his usual spot. Remy jolted so hard he almost fell off the sofa, and Thomas only just managed to catch his sunglasses in time, as they’d slipped right off his face. He tried to hand them back, but Remy wasn’t paying attention to him, instead, he was staring at Logan, wide-eyed and perplexed.

After a moment or two, Remy began to look back and forth between Thomas and Logan, as if comparing them, and they waited patiently for him to finish.

“Okay, uh…” Remy said, running his fingers through his hair, messing it up even further. “What?”

Thomas wanted to fix it for him, to pull him close and reassure him that he wasn’t insane, but he was worried that Remy wouldn’t react well, so he resorted to just staring at him instead.

“I am Logan, it is nice to finally meet you,” Logan introduced himself, stepping forward and holding out his hand for Remy to shake.

Remy did so almost immediately, wanting to check if Logan was really there, and looking rather startled when he realised that he was, in fact, real. His hand was soft, just like Thomas’s, though a little bit cooler, and Remy’s touch lingered as he found himself wanting to just keep holding that hand and never let go (like he often felt with Thomas).

Logan’s face had turned pink by the time that Remy pulled away, and he cleared his throat in an attempt to regain his composure.

“I am one of Thomas’s sides, the physical representation of his logical thinking and knowledge.”

Remy nodded along as if he understood. “Uh huh, okay… what does that mean?”

“I’ve found that comparing our situation to that of Riley’s in the movie ‘Inside Out’ is the easiest way to explain it to others,” Logan explained. “Just, instead of emotions, we represent more complex concepts such as Logic, Morality and Creativity.”

“Is that why you made me watch Inside Out with you last week?” Remy glanced at Thomas, and his boyfriend gave him a slightly sheepish smile and a nod.

“You’re taking this remarkably well,” Thomas commented.

Remy shrugged. “This isn’t the craziest shit I’ve ever seen.”

“It isn’t?”

“I’ll tell you ‘bout it later, babe,” Remy said, patting Thomas’s arm. “So, how many sides are there?”

Logan took a step closer. “Right now, there are six of u-”

Before he could finish that sentence, both Patton and Roman popped up in their usual spots, making Remy jump, though he didn’t look nearly as startled as he had when Logan had first appeared. They both looked ecstatic, and, frankly, lovestruck.

“Hi, I’m Patton!”

Patton looked like he wanted to hug Remy – and he did, desperately – but he didn’t want to overwhelm him, so he stayed by the curtains. Roman, apparently, had no such qualms, rushing forward and taking Remy’s hands in his own. This was the first time he was seeing Remy with his own two eyes (not just through Thomas’s), and he was too gay to think straight.

“Oh, my stars, you’re gorgeous!” Roman breathed, and, before he could stop himself, he continued with: “I’m in love with you.”

For a moment, Remy looked surprised, and then his expression melted into the soft smile that he usually reserved just for Thomas. In any other situation, Remy looking at someone else like that would have made Thomas feel jealous, but Roman wasn’t really ‘someone else’, was he? He was a part of Thomas, and if Remy could love Thomas as a whole, which he did, very much, he could love all his different parts, too.

Things were going to be okay.

***

“I do not have any feelings or emotions; I am only in a relationship with you because Thomas is. It just makes logical sense,” Logan said matter-of-factly, adjusting his glasses.

“Sure,” Remy said. “Does that mean you want me to get out of your lap?”

Logan instantly tightened his grip around Remy’s waist, pulling him closer. “Of course not.”

Remy smirked, tilting his head up to look at him. “Aww, does that mean you love me?”

“I do not feel love.”

Remy pouted, and, even though Logan knew it was fake, he still immediately had the urge to take it back, so the smile that he adored would return.

“Okay, fine, I love you,” He admitted.

One of Remy’s hands reached up to carefully cradle Logan’s face, the other resting in the centre of his chest, over his tie – ready to, at any moment, use it to pull Logan closer and capture his lips in a kiss, as he often did.

“I love you, too,” Remy smiled. “My shooting star.”

Logan’s cheeks reddened at the nickname – just like he knew they would – and Remy’s smile widened.

“You’re adorable,” He said.

“Falsehood.”

“You are,” Remy insisted, sitting up straighter so they were almost nose-to-nose, bumping Logan’s glasses. “You.” Kiss. “Are.” Kiss. “Adorable.”

He then kissed him again, this one lingering longer, before Remy finally pulled back. Logan couldn’t help but chase his lips, and Remy smirked again, making Logan blush just a little bit more.

“See,” Remy tucked a stray strand of hair behind Logan’s ear. “Adorable.”

***

“Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! Now try this one,” Patton beamed, holding out another cookie just in front of Remy’s lips.

Remy opened his mouth obediently, taking a bite and chewing it slowly.

He and Patton had spent the last few hours baking a variety of sweet treats in Thomas’s kitchen. If you asked Patton, he would say that it was a team effort. If you asked Remy, however, he would say that Patton had done most of the work, as Remy had no idea how to bake. He wasn’t complaining, though, not in the slightest, especially not when Patton came up behind him, covering Remy’s hands with his own to guide him.

Remy swallowed. “It’s good,” He said. “Sweet.” And then he grinned. “Though not as sweet as you, sugar.”

Patton giggled, delighted.

“Not too sweet?” He asked.

“Never.”

Patton laughed again, poking Remy’s nose. “I was talking about the cookie, silly!”

“Oh, yeah, they’re good, too.”

“Do you think Thomas will like them?” Patton asked.

Remy tilted his head, his sunglasses slipping down his nose – revealing his distractingly gorgeous baby blue eyes – as he gave Patton an amused look. His hair flopped to one side, and Patton reached out to fix it.

“I’m pretty sure you know him better than I do, hon.”

“That’s true,” Patton said, before popping the rest of the cookie into his mouth. He chewed slowly, before smiling again. “I think Thomas will like them.”

***

Thomas flung the front door open, smiling when Remy stepped inside, immediately taking Thomas’s hand, squeezing it, and planting a kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek.

“Morning, babe,” He greeted.

“Hey,” Thomas said. “I’ve gotta get back to work now – Logan and Roman are helping me with a new video idea – but Virgil’s out, so you can hang out with him, for now.”

Remy grinned, taking off his sunglasses and placing them on top of his head, knowing full well that Virgil was weak for his eyes, and intending on taking full advantage of that fact. To be fair, all of them loved Remy’s eyes, and, upon seeing them, Thomas couldn’t help but lean down and kiss him properly.

When they pulled apart, Remy stepped around him, into the apartment, strolling over to the couch, where Virgil lay, scrolling through his phone. It didn’t really make sense that Virgil had a phone, but nothing about the sides ever really made sense, so Remy chose not to question it, instead flopping into Virgil’s lap without warning, grinning when the anxious side instinctively sat up, wrapping his arms around him.

“Mornin’, handsome.”

Remy’s smile widened as Virgil’s face turned pink. He remained flustered for another moment or two, before he calmed himself down and rolled his eyes.

“Not a very accurate compliment, babe.”

Remy shushed him, covering Virgil’s mouth with his finger. “Nope, nuh-uh – you can’t insult my boyfriend like that. I won’t allow it.”

Virgil snorted, taking Remy’s hand away from his face and intertwining their fingers.

“Are you just here to keep me distracted so I don’t keep bothering Thomas about the new video idea?” He asked dryly.

“I’m here because I wanna snuggle with my very gorgeous boyfriend,” Remy corrected, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the tip of Virgil’s nose. “And also make out with him. Any distraction from bugging Thomas is just a bonus.”

Virgil rolled his eyes again. “You’ve got seven boyfriends, why choose to sit on my lap?”

“Technically, I only have one boyfriend.”

“Wow, big word. Logan would be so proud of you.”

Remy poked Virgil’s shoulder. “Don’t be rude. And I’m sitting in your lap because I love you and I want to, plus you’re, like, super warm.”

“We’re all warm.” There was a beat. “I love you, too.”

Remy grinned again. “Great. Wanna make out?”

***

Remy absent-mindedly scrolled through his phone. Thomas was upstairs, looking for something, and would likely remain there for another few minutes, at least, so his boyfriend was just looking for a way to pass the time.

Then, suddenly, he heard the familiar whooshing sound that meant a side had just risen up. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw light blue, and a bespectacled man standing by the curtains. Remy snorted quietly.

“You know that doesn’t work on me, darlin’.”

Deceit pouted – a very Patton-like expression, most likely deliberate – and then crossed his arms in a manner that was decidedly not Patton, which would have given him away, if Remy hadn’t already seen through his disguise.

“What did I do wrong this time?”

Remy looked up from his phone, giving Deceit a once-over. He then shrugged. “I dunno. You’re just… different, I guess.”

Deceit sighed, running his fingers through his hair, and, in the blink of an eye, he was back to his normal snake-like self, his hat in his hand. He placed it on his head, but, before he could say anything else, Remy had jumped off the couch, reaching up on his tiptoes and plucking the hat back off his head with a grin. He only just managed to run his fingers through Deceit’s hair, which made the lying side smile, as, even though he was the shortest side, Remy was still much shorter than him, which was, honestly, adorable.

“You’re cuter without the hat,” Remy teased, placing it on his own head. “It looks better on me.”

And how was Deceit supposed to not kiss him when he looked like that? Wearing Deceit’s hat and grinning up at him in that way reserved just for them.

He didn’t get the chance to, though, as Remy kissed him first, standing up on his tiptoes and wrapping his arms around Deceit’s neck. Remy tugged him as close as possible, humming quietly against Deceit’s lips.

***

The moment Remy stepped into the apartment, he was swept off his feet, scooped up into Roman’s arms, and twirled around – once, twice, thrice. Remy’s sunglasses almost fell to the ground, but he caught them just in time, tucking them onto his t-shirt collar.

“How are you, on this fine morning, my radiant Sleeping Beauty?”

Remy sighed, wrapping one arm around Roman’s neck, the other hand clutching his half-empty coffee cup.

“Ugh, the barista at Starbucks was, like, so rude to me, this morning,” He complained, pouting slightly, but relaxing. “She just kept glaring at me.”

Roman clicked his tongue, but he couldn’t help but grin.

“Would you like me to fight her for you, my love?” He offered.

Remy snorted. “I’m pretty sure the cops would get called if you showed up at Starbucks with your sword, Prince Charming. Thomas would end up behind bars, and then who would take me into their arms and kiss me every day?”

“That’s the real tragedy,” Roman said, leaning closer to kiss Remy.

“Get a room!” Virgil shouted from the couch.

“You’re just jealous that Remy loves me more,” Roman joked.

Remy stretched his legs, reclining in Roman’s arms. He grinned. “Now, now, boys… there’s enough of me to go around. Besides, I don’t pick favourites.” He paused for a moment. “And, if I had to, I’d pick Thomas.”

Roman stuck his tongue out at Virgil, who rolled his eyes.

“Come on,” Remy smiled at Virgil over Roman’s shoulder. “Aren’t you gonna come give me a kiss, too, gorgeous?”

***

If he had been with anybody else, Remy would have scowled at the loss of his sunglasses. But he was with Remus, and he was used to this, so instead he just smiled, tilting his head up to meet his boyfriend’s eyes.

Remus dropped the sunglasses on the couch beside them, grabbing Remy’s face – a little roughly, but not hard enough to hurt.

“I want to steal your eyes.”

This probably would’ve alarmed Remy, but he was used to this kind of language from Remus, so instead he just laughed quietly, poking Remus’s shoulder.

“I think I’d rather you didn’t, pumpkin,” Remy said. “I kinda need them. How else am I supposed to admire your gorgeous face?”

Remus nodded, humming. “Good point.”

He ran one finger down the side of Remy’s face, the other hand holding his face in place as he stared into Remy’s eyes. Perhaps this should’ve been uncomfortable, but how could Remy feel anything but comfort when he was curled up in Remus’s lap, half under a blanket, with some horror movie that neither of them were paying attention to playing in the background.

“I’m gonna copy them,” Remus decided finally.

“Copy them?”

Remus nodded eagerly, his thumb resting just below Remy’s left eye. “Uh huh! I’m gonna make copies of your eyes that I can keep with me even when you’re not around.” Suddenly, he gasped, and then grinned. “I wonder what they’ll taste like.”

Remy wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”

Remus took that as a compliment, as Remy knew he would.

“Thanks!” He exclaimed, one hand moving to squeeze Remy’s waist, before pulling him into a predictably messy kiss.

***

Remy hadn’t meant to stop in the middle of the hallway, but he was distracted very easily, and, after pausing mid-step to read a text, he ended up standing there for almost five minutes. He didn’t look up when he heard footsteps behind him, and when he felt a hand on the small of his back, he knew exactly who it was.

“Hey, babe,” Remy greeted, his eyes remaining on his phone screen. “Just one sec, I’m arguing with my mom.”

“How can you always tell when it’s me?” Thomas asked.

Remy shrugged, finishing his text, before stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He then turned and wrapped his arms around Thomas’s neck.

“I dunno,” He said. “It’s just… obvious.”

“What, have you got like a… sixth sense for it, or something?” Thomas joked.

Remy laughed. “Nah, I’m just perceptive like that.”

He then kissed Thomas, quick and soft, before pulling back slightly. There was a beat, and then Thomas grinned, a glint that screamed either Remus or Roman – there wasn’t time for Remy to decipher it – in his eyes. Before Remy could question it, Thomas dipped him with a laugh that was absolutely Remy’s favourite sound.

He kissed him again and again and again and then once more on his neck to make him laugh.

“Did Roman tell you to do that?” Remy asked, his sunglasses slipping to reveal eyes that were so bright and happy that Thomas’s heart felt just a little too big for his ribcage.

“I can decide to do things on my own, you know,” Thomas teased.

Remy raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, fine,” Thomas admitted. “But Roman wasn’t actually the only one telling me to do that.”

“I’m sure.”

A moment passed, and then Thomas’s smile softened. “I love you so much, we all do.”

“I know,” Remy said, one hand moving up to cradle Thomas’s face. “I love you, too.”

990 notes · View notes

beelsnack · 4 years

Text

Obey Me! Boys and an Insecure MC

Alternate Title: Coping mechanisms? In my demonic dating sim? It’s more likely than you think.

I honestly didn’t mean for this to be so long, but hey.

CW: Depression, self hatred, unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Lucifer: It was subtle, but nothing escaped the notice of the Eldest. He saw them fidgeting with their tie before heading to class, watched the frown tug at their lips when all they managed to produce was a rumpled tangle of silk. Caught them poking ruefully at their acne scars in the reflection of their D.D.D. Heard the frustrated sigh as they tried to sit in a way that hid the meat on their abdomen. But, above all, he paid close attention to those comments.

“Wow, I can’t do anything right, can I?”

“You would have to be a professional makeup artist to fix this mess, haha!”

“It’s alright, you can say I’m ugly.”

That was it. Lucifer stood from his seat at his desk, an errant paper fluttering to the ground in his wake. The Firstborn made his way over to where they were sitting, working away diligently on their laptop. Their breath caught in their throat when they turned to face him, and Lucifer fought back a sadistic grin when he felt them shudder at the feeling of his gloved hand sliding beneath their chin. He would file that away for later.

“That’s quite enough.” his voice was low as he lifted their face. They averted their eyes, clearly uncomfortable, but he kept his hand where it was. “Self-deprecation is unbecoming on anyone, but I certainly will not have it marring that beautiful face of yours.”

Nothing escaped the notice of the Eldest. Especially not the shy smile they wore as they bade him goodnight.

Mammon: Call him an idiot all you like, but if there was one thing that a solid gambling career had taught Mammon, it was how to read a person’s tells. The way they stood with their arms folded and body turned inward said they were trying to hide. Their habit of avoiding mirrors told him they hated the way they looked. The twinge of resigned sadness on their face when they carefully deflected Asmo’s blatant flirting made it obvious that they thought they didn’t deserve it.

It must have been particularly bad one night. The two of them had made themselves comfortable on the bed in preparation for movie night, but instead of cuddling up next to him like they normally did, they sat far enough away that Mammon had to actually scoot forward to jab them in the shoulder.

“Hey, what gives, human? Why’re you all the way over there?”

“I’m just feeling a little warm.” they shrugged, pulling their knees to their chest. They were trying to pull some reverse psychology bullshit by purposefully staring him in the eye while they lied to him. Mammon snorted.

“You really think you’re going to fool me like that? You’ve got at least a millennia until you can even think of lying to The Great Mammon!” he opened his arms and his voice softened when he spoke. “Come here.”

They hesitated - eyes flicking back and forth between him and a knot in the branches that made up their bed frame, nervous - before they tucked themselves into his waiting arms.

He leaned his cheek against the top of their head, inhaling the sweet smell of their freshly-washed hair and internally purring (maybe externally, but you wouldn’t be able to get him to admit it) when he felt them snuggle in a little deeper and release a pent up sigh.

Mammon stayed silent, absently stroking the back of their neck. Words had probably done the damage, and they definitely weren’t going to fix it. He knew that from experience. But shielding his human from their own poisonous thoughts for a few moments was a good place to start.

Levi: Self-deprecating comments were one of Levi’s main forms of communication. It was a defense mechanism, a low-level shield someone would cast when the enemy was ridiculously OP but the game didn’t give you a retreat option. He knew this mechanic.

But when he heard them use it, it made him angry.

How could someone as amazing as them - smart, pretty, brave, loved gaming, made sure to feed Henry 2.0 when Levi was at a Sucre Frenzy concert - think they were anything less then perfect? No, more importantly, who hurt them so badly that they started thinking that way?

He felt like he did that one time Mammon had dropped one of his limited-edition Ruri-chan figures from a balcony. Someone damaged something precious to him, and he wanted blood.

Of course, that would involve talking about feelings and other mushy, normie stuff, and he just wasn’t ready for that. So, he did the only thing he could think of.

Leviachan: Hey, you down for a raid? There’s this new set of armor - it’s suuuuuuper rare, and you’re the only one good enough to get through the dungeon with me!! Pleeeeaaaassseee?

Satan: These little reading dates had started without him really noticing. One day, the human had came into the library seeking a quiet place to study and finish up their homework. Then, they came in with a human world book that Satan had never heard of tucked under their arm and were more than willing to talk about it. This lead to the two of them huddled on the sofa with their noses buried in the same book, and the human surprising Satan by being able to keep up with his reading speed. And here they were.

Satan had chosen a detective novel that he was positive they would like, and the both of them had taken advantage of a quiet Sunday morning to let themselves get absorbed into the story. Satan had his long arms wrapped around them holding the book, and they were leaning against his chest as they flipped the pages. An easy routine that the two of them had fallen into.

He felt them sigh heavily against him and he quirked an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

“Huh? Oh, no, I just...” they trailed off, gazing out the window at the dusty purple sky before snapping back to the present. “The love interest in this book is amazing. I’m a little jealous of them.”

“Jealous?” Satan echoed, looking down at the small frame curled up in his arms. “Why would you be jealous?”

“They were able to do so much with their life. They’re so young, yet they’ve got their life sorted out, they’re smart, beautiful, charismatic, and they’re confident in themselves despite all the shit people put them through...” they sighed again, and this time Satan heard the note of self-hatred on the exhale. “I can’t do anything like that.”

“Now where did you get that idea?” Satan said incredulously. “In the few months you’ve been here, you have excelled in every class you’ve taken, stood up against all of us in our true forms at least twice each, solved a murder, and convinced me to stop plotting to rip Lucifer’s throat out. All while adjusting to life in a world where most of the citizens could kill you by poking you a bit too hard. I would say that goes above and beyond ‘having your life sorted out.’“

The blush that bloomed across their face was so hot that Satan was able to feel it through his shirt, right next to his heart. He chuckled softly as he bent down to kiss their hair.

“I could write for eons about how amazing you are and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

Asmo: Emotions fell right into his area of expertise, and even if they were immune to his charm, Asmo still could smell their emotions like a perfume. And their low self-confidence reeked like rotten fruit. A beautiful arrangement that had been abandoned and left to decay.

The Avatar of Lust was an inquisitive soul (Lucifer would call it being nosy, but whatever.) He was also a firm believer in the theory that you can tell everything you need to know about a person by their skincare routine. So that’s what led to him sneaking into their bathroom while Mammon had dragged them out on one of his stupid get-rich-quick schemes.

“Oh, I don’t think so!” Asmo cried in alarm as he picked up the bottle of human world acne treatment. “They might as well be washing their face with snake venom!”

With a scoff, Asmo kicked the waste basket out from beneath their counter and tossed the face wash in. Bottle after bottle followed it, and Asmo was just about to dump the last bottle of what he assumed was straight rubbing alcohol when he heard the door open.

“Asmo, what the fuck.”

“Darling, we need to have a very serious discussion about your choice in skincare products.” Asmo grimaced as he glanced at the label on the bottle before unceremoniously dropping it into the bottle graveyard. “Can you even pronounce some of these?”

Ah, there it was. The sickeningly sweet smell of self-hatred. Asmo fought the urge to recoil as they practically dove for the trash can.

“Asmo, come on, I have gross skin as it is, don’t take away the only things keeping me from looking like a slice of pizza.”

The sound of glass breaking echoed somewhere in the back of Asmo’s head. That rotten smell was rolling off of them in waves, but he fought off his aversion and knelt down next to them.

They nearly hit the ceiling when Asmo clasped their hands between his own. “Now, now, none of that.”

“None of what?”

Asmo giggled. “You know I wouldn’t bother associating myself with someone unsightly.” one of his hands moved to gently cup their jaw. “You poor thing, you’ve been ruining that lovely face of yours.”

“I didn’t think I could make it any worse.” they muttered, looking away as Asmo stroked a thumb over their cheekbone.

Asmo’s heart clenched, and he leaned forward to kiss them gently on the forehead. “Oh, I can’t stand hearing that kind of talk, especially coming from you. That settles it, then.” he stood with an air of finality.

“Settles what?” they tilt their head in a manner that reminded Asmo of a very adorable puppy.

“We’re going to get you some proper skincare products, and I’m going to spend the rest of the night making you feel like the divine beauty you actually are.”

It was only for a second, but Asmo swore that overpowering smell of rotten fruit was replaced with something just a little fresher.

Beelzebub: Normally, the Avatar of Gluttony wouldn’t complain about someone not eating. More for him. But he didn’t like the way the human was pushing food around their plate without actually eating any of it. They usually loved fried bat wing, too.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, keeping his voice low so his brothers wouldn’t butt in. “Aren’t you hungry?”

They laughed sheepishly, pushing their plate towards him. “Nah, not really. I was snacking all day. Here, you can have it.”

“But I just heard your stomach growl.”

Shame flashed across their face before they looked up at him with a grin that didn’t quite make it to their eyes. “I guess, haha. Just trying to watch my figure, you know?”

Before Beel could swallow down the mouthful of bat wing - when did he even pick it up? They had stood from the table and excused themselves, saying something about having a lot of homework.

It was a few hours before they got back to their room. What had started as them doing their homework in the living room had turned into Mammon begging them to help him study, which then somehow turned to Mammon challenging Satan to a pillow fight. Finally, they had decided to give up and do their homework in their room.

Something delicious wafted out of their room when they opened the door. The source was an overly full plate of food - with extra bat wing, they noticed - sitting on their desk. Blinking in confusion, they shut the door behind them and approached the plate. When they got closer, the note tucked underneath the plate came into view.

Please eat properly. I don’t want you to starve.

-Beel

Belphegor: He never would have called himself needy or touch-starved before. But after spending so long stuck in that attic room with his only interaction being with Lucifer, Belphegor couldn’t seem to get enough physical contact. Especially with the human.

He knew he didn’t deserve their affection, not with how he took advantage of them, manipulated them, murdered them. But the human had enough room in their heart to forgive him, and he would take any ounce of affection they were willing to give.

But it still stung when they flinched.

It was only for an instant, but Belphegor could feel the instinctual tightening of muscles when he draped himself over their shoulder. Feel them jump when he bumped shoulders with them in the hall. Feel their heartbeat speed up when he decided to use them as a body pillow.

“You know you can tell me no, right?” he murmured sleepily as the moment passed and the human settled down.

“Would you stop if I did?”

“Hm...” he hummed, cracking open one amethyst eye to peer at them. “If you don’t like me touching you, why do you let me do it?”

The human sighed, scooting down from their position against their headboard so they were face to face with Belphegor, who still had his hands around their waist like they were a giant teddy bear.

“It’s more like...I can’t believe you want to touch me.”

Now that woke Belphie up - well, as up as he could be while still doing his best impersonation of a koala. “What?”

They laughed, but it sounded strained. “Come on, Belphie, look at me. I’m all...jiggly.”

“So?”

Silence. They looked at him like they were trying to solve a puzzle, and he met their gaze like he was trying to figure out why they couldn’t figure it out.

“It’s not like it matters,” he shrugged, snuggling down into the soft blankets and holding the human a little bit tighter. “I like touching you because you’re you. You being soft and warm is a side benefit.”

“Belphie - “

He yawned, and they genuinely couldn’t tell if it was fake or not. “Shh, I’m going to sleep. You’re my pillow, so don’t talk. Especially if it’s negative stuff like that.”

Honestly, that was the best nap they’d had in a while.

#obey me #shall we date obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #headcanon #honestly this was supposed to be short #I just wanted to write something quick and then this happened

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

Note

You mentioned Claude met his future s/o while outside doing something for Alois (probably in town I'd guess?) Lets say that he sees her once again, this time at the ball that Alois decided to throw for some reason? Turns out she's a Noble and is already bethroned but hates the idea of marrying the guy! She wants to marry for love! What would Claude reactions be? What would he do next? Headcanons if you're ok with it?!

Your wish is my command.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, engagement against the darling’s will, mentions of killing

Claude’s reaction to the s/o being a noble + being betrothed

🕷Since the day Claude met the s/o in the town he couldn’t get them out of his head. The taste of their glorious blood and their splendid scent were hunting him. He had tried to find the s/o again, but wasn’t able to which frustrated him. The more time passed by, the more easily he snapped at the other servants in the house. The little human seemed to hunt him, seeping their image into every corner of his mind until he couldn’t think about anything else. Claude felt a longing, a craving for their presence like he had never experienced before.

🕷Painful months passed by and with each passing day Claude felt more and more desperate. No matter how much he searched in the town where he had first seen them, he couldn’t find the s/o. By now he was almost ready to break of the contract with Alois, not any longer interested in his soul because the only thing he desired now was the darling’s soul. But one day Alois threw a party and invited many nobles to it and that was how Claude met them again.

🕷At first he didn’t even want to take too much part in it, seeing it only as a huge waste of time, time he could use so much more better, time he could use to find you, but orders were orders and he couldn’t do anything against it. Luckily he was a master at hiding his clear disinterest and annoyance whenever some noble lady tried to make a move on him. He endured all the flirting and acted all gentleman like to them, but in reality he was just disgusted. He was able to smell their rotten soul without even having to taste their blood. It was truly sickening. That was until he suddenly caught a whiff of the sweetest scent he had ever smelled. The scent he had searched for so desperately these last few months.

🕷Claude had troubles to not storm immediately to the source of the scent, making his way calmy through the crowd, following the enticingly smell. That’s when he finally saw you again. You were standing alone in a corner and looked bored at all the other people and Claude felt an almost unknown emotion in him when he saw you. What was that? Relief? Happiness? He wasn’t very experienced with emotions himself, the only thing he knew was that his whole inside started tingling when he saw you again. He wanted to walk towards you and start a conversation with you when he suddenly saw another man walking towards them, smiling gently at you and giving you a quick kiss on your lips. That’s when Claude noticed that both of you wore the same ring on your ring fingers.

🕷It was the second time Claude felt unknown emotions inside of him. But this one wasn’t pleasant like the first one. It felt like a storm of emotions was swirling up inside of him like a hurricane. He felt disgusted that this man had dared to touch those lips of yours, he felt furious that you were already taken and frustrated that this position in your life was already taken. Just for a split second his eyes started glowing pink before he quickly gained control again, feeling confused. What had just happened? Why was he so angry that you were already betrothed? He was only interested in your soul, he shouldn’t care whether you were already taken or not, right? But somehow the knowledge that you were to get married later on to this guy made his stomach churn. The thought this guy would be your husband, the one who would take your virginity, the one who would be the father of your children made Claude angry. You didn’t belong to this garbage, you deserved better! You deserved him!

🕷He watched you and your future husband with narrowed eyes, feeling the nearly overwhelming urge to snap this man’s neck. Every time this scum touched you in some way Claude needed all his self control to not rip his arms off. How dare this piece of trash to ruin such a magnificent being like you with his rotten touches?! Claude turned his attention towards you, not quite believing how you could have excepted this guy as your betrothed when he suddenly noticed something. The smile you were wearing on your face looked strange, it looked...forced. He also noticed that even though you were looking at him your mind seemed to be somewhere else and you just hummed to everything he said, not looking really interested. When this guy finally left you alone to chat with the other guests Claude even saw you letting a sigh of relief out. Well, that was an interesting turn of events.

🕷Claude went back to his original plan, starting a conversation with you. When you saw Claude walking towards you a look of recognition crossed your face and you recalled that he was the one who had helped you a few months ago. Claude felt a feeling of satisfaction blooming inside of him. You remembered him even after all this months? That meant he must have left a good impression on you. Both of you seemed to click immediately and a very nice conversation bloomed from this where Claude was able to find out a lot from you. You were the only child of a famous noble family who owned a lot of factories where famous sweets were produced and your betrothed came from a rich family as well, but Claude noticed that you lacked facial expressions whilst talking about your fiancé. He decided to test that further, telling you that it seemed like you were lucky to have such a well off fiancé. The look of disagreement that crossed your face was enough to tell him that something was clearly wrong.

🕷You suddenly beckoned him closer to you, asking if he could keep something a secret. Then you told him in a hushed tone that you didn’t want to marry this guy, confessing that this whole thing was arranged between your and his parents and you hadn’t really had to say anything to this. But truth was that you wanted to marry someone that you loved, not just because this guy had the money. You disliked this man with your entire being, he was just so sickening sweet to you that you just wanted to throw up. This caused Claude to let a small smug smile appear on his face whilst you continued complaining about your fiancé. So you just thought like he did about this guy. Nothing but an annoying obstacle. And he would make sure to get rid of it. Just for you.

🕷Only a few days later shocking news came out. Your future husband mysteriously disappeared and not even the police was able to find even a single clue about his whereabouts. No one knew where he was, no one but Claude. He knew that your fiancé was now functioning as a pretty decoration in a lake where he would probably lay for a very long time, Claude doubted that someone would ever find him there given the depth of the lake. After a while everyone gave up on searching for the guy, accepting the fact that he must have died by now and a funeral was hold shortly after. Many people attended to it, including Alois and Claude. During the whole funeral Claude’s eyes were on you, trying to read from your facial expression your feelings. After the funeral was finished, he instantly went to you and started playing the worried butler, asking if you were alright. You shrugged, answering that you weren’t sure about how to feel. On the one hand you were glad that you didn’t have to marry this guy now, but in the other hand you also felt bad because no one deserved this.

🕷After this day you and Claude met up more often and you quickly formed a licking to the golden eyed butler. Claude on the other hand made sure that your parents wouldn’t dare to force you into another engagement. If they would your new fiancé wouldn’t survive for very long anyways. He made sure to keep that spot in your life free. No one deserved that spot in your life. No one, but him and he was willing to do anything to ensure that he would reach that goal. After all he had chosen you as his little precious mate. And demons mate for life.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere claude #yandere claude faustus

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reneejuliet · 3 years

Text

Badbye

Author: reneejuliet

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader (sort of)

Rating: M (cursing, brief smut)

Word Count: 2,115

Genre: Angst, Soulmate AU, Idol AU (lolololololol)

Author’s Note: This is posting late - I’m sorry! But here is a snippet for Namjoon. It is HEAVY on the angst - PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS. This was an idea I had for a soulmate AU with Namjoon, and this is a taste of the darkest part of it. I may one day expand this, but it’s hard to delve into the theme that powers this idea so I can’t say for sure. Regardless, I do hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: DARK THEMES - depression, suicidal ideation/intention (not expressly stated but heavily implied), self-loathing, smut in form of brief sexual intercourse (MxF), unhealthy coping mechanisms, cursing, rejection, unrequited love, so many italics (I’m so sorry). Please read at your discretion.

The apartment was dark, illuminated only by the sliver of moonlight that peeked through the clouds just outside your window. Behind you, the glow of the opened refrigerator bathed you in fluorescence. Its faint chill crept up over your bare legs, shivering down your spine. At least, you told yourself it was from the cold.

It couldn’t have anything to do with what you were about to do. It couldn’t, because you didn’t have the capacity to feel remorse. You didn’t have the capacity to feel much of anything anymore. Not after…

No.

Your eyes shut against the unbidden memory that rose up like bile in your throat. The woman splayed out beneath him, whose eyes you saw through. Her pretty face scrunched up in pleasure, naked breasts bouncing from the force with which he thrust into her. The moans that tore from her throat and how they harmonized with the low, guttural grunts he contributed. The slapping of flesh on flesh, squelching of fluids, his name whined out into the darkness –

Namjoon.

You turned toward your sink just in time to vomit into its basin, your pathetic excuse for dinner regurgitated into an acidic mess. Hot tears burned in your eyes as you coughed, spluttered, and spat until there was nothing left. Until your stomach was a twisting mess, and you were spent of the energy to keep back the sob that wracked through you.

The only thing that kept you grounded was the burn against the curve of your thumb. Through your tears, your eyes focused in on that godforsaken name. It had been nothing but a curse on you since the day it appeared on your skin.

Kim Namjoon.

There was a time that the name had felt like a blessing, however short-lived it had been. When it first incinerated into your flesh, leaving behind the ashen shape of his name, the tears in your eyes had been joyous. Your fingers had stroked over the curves of every letter, fondness for this stranger you were destined to spend the rest of your life with blooming out of your chest into every crevice of your body. You felt warm, whole.

Until the phantom pain of your own name appearing on his wrist burned into you, solidifying your connection. And instead of happiness, or surprise, the cold, heavy sense of dread had sunk onto your shoulders. Disappointment wrapped around your heart, chasing away any previous euphoria. So strong was his feeling of misfortune that you didn’t just sense it – no, you felt it as your own. Soon, your tears rained for an entirely different reason.

Your soulmate didn’t want you.

It wasn’t unheard of. Many people who didn’t believe in destiny, in fate, disavowed their soulmate. It was an aspect of life they didn’t get a say in, after all. Of course they would rebuke the very idea. You just hadn’t thought it would happen to you. You, who had only heard love stories of soulmates. Your own mother spoke of your father to this day with nothing but love and adoration, even if he had left her to a life of solitude with his untimely death. Sometimes, you’d catch her stroking the crook of her elbow where his name had once been, and even though her eyes were overwhelmingly sad, still. There was always, always love beneath.

Growing up, you would not come to know that sensation for yourself. Kim Namjoon was not a bad man – quite contrary, he was very capable of kindness, of affection, of love. Just not for you. The few times he would touch your name on his skin, you would shiver under the sensation of disgust he held for it. For you. Every time you tried to reason that he didn’t even know you – that maybe, once he met you and actually got to know you, things would change – your heart would seize in a cold vice until it left you sobbing. Because you knew, with the certainty that only a soulmate connection could give you, that Namjoon would never change his stance. Not on this.

Not on you.

So you’d grown cold, distant. You didn’t acknowledge the occasional plucking on your bond that was triggered by intense emotions felt by your soulmate. If he didn’t want you, then you saw no point in putting any effort in yourself. It hollowed you out, but you figured that was for the best. The less you felt, the less it would hurt when he ultimately rejected you.

That day would come over a decade later, on perhaps the least suspecting of days. You had taken your niece to this concert she had been dying to go to, but your sister and her husband had been unable to accommodate. Ever the loving aunt, you had offered to take her in their stead. She’d been so excited, hugging her worn plushie to her chest while you stood in line for the fan meet, bouncing on her heels. She had been spouting nonsense to you about the members of this group, none of which you really cared to know. You didn’t stay up to date on current music trends. But you couldn’t deny the glowing in your niece’s eyes, nor the fondness it trickled out of your heart. It was one of the only things you had come to let yourself feel, after all.

And it would be your undoing.

Because taking your niece to the fan meet meant you also had to participate. You took your place before each member, grasping their hand and offering up vague niceties until it was time to move on to the next. Until you reached him. The second your fingers brushed his wrist and his, the curve of your thumb, a sense akin to lightning shook through your entire being. Your eyes shot up to meet the dark expanse that was Kim Namjoon, lit up in his own surprise.

“You.”

It hadn’t sounded particularly rude or disenchanted, but all you could feel was that chilling sense of dread that had suffocated you in your tears all those years ago. His touch sparked memories of every time he had felt your name and with it, each synonym for annoyed and burdened that you kindled within him. It cut you to your core, because he was so devastatingly handsome. In any other circumstance, you would have felt so incredibly lucky.

Instead, you felt like you were going to be sick.

You had rushed out of that room, throwing yourself through the doors and into the hall. A few straggling fans had turned at the sudden intrusion, but they did not linger upon seeing your distraught condition. Your hand was tangled so tightly in your sweater that your knuckles blanched and you gasped for air like you were dying. Deep down, it almost felt like you were. This was supposed to be the happiest moment of your life, meeting your soulmate, and instead you were collapsing under the sheer panic of it.

The doors had flung open behind you just moments later. Through them came the frazzled figure of Kim Namjoon himself, clutching the shoulder of your very confused niece. They walked closer, your niece looking between you and Namjoon before she sidled up under your arm. Namjoon, meanwhile, stared at you with wide eyes.

Forcing your gaze to remain on your niece, you slipped her small hand into yours and urged her quickly down the hall. She obliged, but hesitantly. Then you heard the footsteps following.

“Wait! Please!”

Your body betrayed you, shocked completely still at the sound of his voice. It was deep, and smooth. It was the honey in your tea, the caffeine in your veins. Goosebumps prickled your skin and you rubbed at your arms to dissipate them. This wasn’t fair, that he had his effect on you. He didn’t want you, he didn’t –

“Y/N!”

The sound of your name in his voice all but stopped your heart and you slapped a hand over your mouth to cover your sob. Tears sprung in your eyes and you squeezed them shut, turning your head away. Every nerve in your body trembled in the silence of that hall as he neared you, blood thrumming in your veins at the proximity.

This wasn’t fair.

Namjoon stood before you, just a couple steps away. He couldn’t help the way his chest heaved when he followed you, as if you had taken the very air from his lungs. He couldn’t even find it in himself to care about the scene he had left in his wake by his impulsive departure. All that had mattered was getting to you.

He hated it.

So he had used the ruse of returning the little girl you had left in your own hasty retreat, guiding her alongside him as they ducked through security and out the exit doors. And there you were, looking a complete mess. Because of him.

He had meant to speak, to say something to you, but you never gave him the chance. “Don’t,” you almost shouted the moment he had opened his mouth. “You don’t need to explain. I get it, okay?”

“Wait. Get what? I don’t –“

Your grip tightened on your niece and she had whined in protest, but she was the only thing keeping you from bolting. “You don’t want me,” you blurted. “You don’t want a soulmate. I know, okay?”

He had stood so still, he could have been a statue. He wouldn’t be completely out of place in a museum, you noted. You hated that you noted.

“I… I don’t – I mean, I never said –“

“You didn’t have to say it,” you cut off, far from caring if you came across rude. “I could feel it.”

Namjoon’s neck and cheeks had flushed, and he had brought a hand up to muss his hair. His eyes cast downward with a glint of shame, because Kim Namjoon was not a bad man. You hated him for it.

“Ahah,” he cleared his throat, cheeks burning red now. “I… I didn’t mean…”

“I know what you meant.” Your voice was devoid of emotion. Of anything, really. It didn’t sit well with Namjoon and he shifted uncomfortably. But that was hardly your concern.

“Listen, can we just –“

“But hey, it’s okay, you know?” You didn’t give him a chance to talk – didn’t give him a chance to confirm everything you had felt over the past so many years. To hear it aloud would quite possibly break you. “We’re even.”

Namjoon looked at you, confused. The empty stare he found waiting for him sent shivers down his spine.

“Even?”

You nodded imperceptibly, gathering your niece in your arms and steering her toward the end of the hall. “Yeah. You don’t want a soulmate, and I don’t want a soulmate who doesn’t want me. Even.”

You left that hallway without giving Namjoon a chance to say anything more. Once the concert began, your niece seemed to forget whatever troubles had happened and you tried your best to enjoy her happiness. Thankfully, your seats were far enough away that you didn’t have to worry about any awkward eye contact with Namjoon, and you purposely did not look at the stage any more than you had to. When you left the venue that night, you fully intended to have nothing more to do with your reluctant soulmate.

But because the world clearly has it out for you, things didn’t exactly go as planned. The soulmate bond is hard to ignore, especially once contact has been made. You began running into Namjoon at more and more impossible situations, until he finally trapped you into a conversation. And, exhausted from fighting fate, you conceded.

Namjoon didn’t want to hurt you. It was painfully obvious just how sweet he actually was. He just didn’t believe in fate, and that left no room for a soulmate. But there was nothing saying you couldn’t be friends, right?

Nothing, except the gaping hole he left in your heart every time he came and went. Nothing, except the overwhelmingly sickening urge you had to respond to every text he sent. Nothing, except the little pieces of you he took each time he left until there was hardly anything left.

It was just so easy to love him, despite how you tried not to. Despite how he didn’t love you back.

The water rinsed the last of your vomit down the drain and you wiped away the sheen of tears clinging to your lashes. The apartment fell silent again. You moved back over to the island, sniffling away the last traces of sadness. After this, you wouldn’t need it anymore.

I’m so sorry it’s so depressing!

→ Taglist is open! Send an ask if you’d like to be added to my general taglist, or if you’d like tagged for a specific fic series or member!

@jin-fizz @fangirls94

©reneejuliet 2021. No part of this material may be copied, photocopied, reproduced, reposted, or translated without consent.

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uwua3 · 4 years

Note

Hi bunnie!! May I request b*nri starting a meaningful connection with his s/o?? thank u so much! ❤️ I’m so glad that bunuiel has such a meaningful connection with each other 😌✨🎻🧚‍♀️💕

this is so awful. this is such a bad prompt for personal reasons. the emojis. the meaningful connection. i’m doing this out of spite and nothing else, i was posssessed by a vengeful demon to type this out and i swear by it

summary: banri feels something once, and it’s all because of you

warnings: blood, crime, illegal activities/implications (breaking the law), injuries, police, toxic relationships, unhealthy power dynamics

author’s note: i promise, if you are sensitive to any of these warnings, do not read!

at first, i actually wanted to expand on banri’s impulsiveness in order to feel something but it became this! this can be considered ooc :) this is every aspect of him exaggerated to be very extreme!!!

word count: 3,690

music: x – code kunst ft. lee hi

🍁🥇 settsu banri

I BELIEVED YOU WHEN YOU PROMISED ME

WHEN YOU PRAYED WITH YOUR HANDS TOGETHER LIKE A MOSQUITO

I BELIEVED, I THOUGHT YOU MEANT IT, I’M THE FOOL, IT ALL MEANT NOTHING

NOW I KNOW, THANK YOU

Nothing was ever “good enough” for Banri. He felt nothing—absolutely fucking nothing no matter what he did. You noticed it too late: all the late–night drives on the verge of crashing, coming a little too close to the dark alleyway with two bloodshot eyes staring at him like he was a regular, the way he somehow knew how to roll his fingerprints just right in the police station. Banri wouldn’t react, hands up lazily like his criminal record was nothing, before he outran the cops with barely any effort.

You should’ve collected the evidence and left before it was too late. Now, you were in it for the long run, his ride–or–die until Banri got bored again, again, again. The handcuffs around his wrists had his name, you knew he could’ve broke them, snapped the middle chain cleanly without hesitation. But, Banri didn’t. Even as the officer pushed him against the side of the cruiser with you next to him, he grinned at you with the exact precision and bloodlust of a con–artist. Banri licked the blood off his bottom lip as you glanced at him, shaking and wondering why you let yourself get caught with him. Why did you decide to vandalize the building in the first place? Your mask heated your face, his was slipped above his mouth like he wanted the whole entire damn city to see his smirk every time they closed their eyes.

“Do you trust me?” Banri asked even though he already knew the answer, but it lacked empathy, understanding, emotion. You knew Banri didn’t feel anything, that was something you underestimated in his adrenaline–powered head. When you carefully nodded once, Banri’s eyes lit up like he was on fire, like he was made of every firecracker about to explode. He was right; you didn’t think twice before grabbing his free hand as the single cop on your trail cursed.

Banri liked this part the most, you knew that. The escape from the pig who thought this was gonna be an easy job, hiding out in a cramped tight area with the sound of your uncontrollable panting disturbing the silence, heading home with another one over the deadbeats. You never had to worry about being behind bars, Banri always won.

It was within the shadows cast by the local dumpster where he stuck himself against the brick wall, holding his breath. Banri’s hand was over your mouth to keep you quiet as you tried to make out shapes in the dark. A beam of a flashlight nearly hit your scuffed shoes, but it passed as you exhaled a sigh of relief, feeling yourself relax against Banri’s chest. You tried to pick up on his heartbeat that should’ve matched yours, the hard thump to show he was at least feeling alive. You didn’t hear anything.

When Banri’s arm around your waist dropped, your heart almost did the same. You wondered how easily Banri could rat you out, push you out to the center right now, and let the cop arrest you. It would’ve given him such an adrenaline rush, to have his own partner get caught and have him bail you out. You gripped his arm, he must’ve sensed you were on edge because Banri muttered something borderline comforting. Although you wished you could have read his mind, you were glad Banri couldn’t read yours or else he’d be tempted yet again.

When the coast was clear, you trailed behind Banri, nervously scanning your surroundings as you held onto his hand. Banri walked forward, stretching his arm back so you can have some sort of touch after everything you went through for his sake. You held on. You were afraid if you didn’t follow, you’d be left to die. You didn’t want to find out if Banri would do that to you, because you knew what the answer was.

YOU CALL ME LATE AT NIGHT

WHEN I’M NOT THE ONE YOU WANT

YOU TELL ME ABOUT IT, FINESSING ON IT

Banri had to know, the restless urge to not feel so empty and hollow anymore. You knew he couldn’t follow the rules, couldn’t force himself to adhere to anyone because no one was “superior” to him, he was his own force. Banri was irrational, reckless, and intense all at once, and maybe that’s why you liked him so much, because he just didn’t care.

But, that meant he didn’t care about you either. For so many nights, he’d ghost your multiple messages before showing up at your bedroom window after winning a fight. If you told him to stop, Banri would just keep throwing more punches to piss you off. Tonight, was one of these nights, as you already had your first–aid kit ready at the base of the flowing curtain pushed aside. He threw his mask off, exposing his injuries underneath. It revealed a 17–year–old boy so tired, so exhausted of himself with the same shit–eating grin he etched permanently on his scarred face.

“Come here.” You ordered without looking, not bothering to check the time or else you’d start another fight and push him away again. Banri listened for once, picking up on the sharp edge in your tone. He dropped onto the floor with the stealth of a cat, moving to sit down next to you with a wary look. As you were rummaging through the box for band–aids, Banri nudged you with his hand, about to say something before you noticed the multiple cuts along his knuckles.

He really would never change, not even for you.

You suddenly started crying, dropping your materials to the ground as Banri stood in silence, staring at you with slightly widened eyes as he backed up. Of course, the one thing Settsu Banri was afraid of and it was you having emotions. Out of all the things, this was what made him want to run away. Not the violence he initiated every night.

“You always do this.” You forced out, trying not to sob as you took in a shaky breath. Banri’s blinked, once, twice, before he extended an arm towards your shoulder. It felt so lifeless, so cold, so unnatural that you couldn’t help but cry louder, covering your mouth as you hung your head over the first–aid box. How much of this had you used just in the last month? Why was so much of it already gone? Why did you already know Banri was coming tonight? When did it become a habit for your boyfriend to only show up when he was hurt? You always saw him at his worst, but he considered this to be his best.

“Y–You, you...” You exhaled, gripping your hands into fists as you wanted to say it so bad. You wanted to ask, if Banri ever loved you, if he was fully aware you knew he didn’t want you, that you were never his main priority. You just turned towards him, seeing one hand was already on the ledge of your window, typical. You cupped his face, attempting to smile despite the tears staining your face, brushing a strand of hair back behind his ear. Did Banri feel it? Did he know you loved him? That you would do anything if he asked?

“Please, stop fighting, I can’t live without you.” You begged, pushing back what you truly wanted to yell. Banri gulped, his eyes staring into yours for the first time in... how long has it been since he let you touch him like this? Why did it take so long just to feel the blood running through his veins, the beat of your thumb’s pulse against his cheek, the sharpness of every feature he had. He was a double–edged sword, and you willingly took him by the hilt.

Banri didn’t say anything, didn’t move, as you touched his face again and again. You needed this, to remind you he was alive, even with all the marks disfiguring his appearance. You were about to say something, anything, to break the silence before Banri took his hand off the window, putting it on your hand against his cheek. It was calloused, rough, awkward, like he hadn’t done anything else with his hands except wound and destroy.

“I’m sorry.” Banri said, and for once, you knew he meant it. It didn’t mean he was going to change, but he knew what it did to you. Made you cry like there was no tomorrow, want to scream every time you noticed he had an injury; Banri wondered how’d you react if he died. A sick, twisted urge in him spiked in his head even when he saw how devastated you were in the moonlight. Banri was so sorry, but apologies meant shit when they made him feel nothing.

When you bandaged Banri’s wrist in silence, he only stared at you as you mended his wounds. Banri didn’t boast about his upper hand that night, didn’t begin talking shit about every and anyone who dared defy him physically, didn’t even spit out the blood in his mouth just to scare you. Banri didn’t do any of those that night, just let you heal him to the best of your ability before he disappeared.

Before he left, Banri turned and looked at you like he really was sorry. Then, pulled the mask over his face before he was gone. Leaving the curtain billowing with the late wind and the window half–open.

The next time Banri called you, footsteps pounding on your fire escape, you readied your first–aid kit. You didn’t cry this time or the next, you didn’t feel anything anymore.

CALL ME A BITCH, I’M PROUD OF IT

WHAT I WANT, YOU GOT IT WRONG

STOP IT, I GOTTA GO

I WANT IT MORE, I WANT TO SCREAM AND GROWL

Banri was sorry he got you into this. You, who he knew loved him unconditionally even if it meant risking a criminal record against a police cruiser, even if it meant patching up his wounds in the final hours of dusk just so he’d survive to do it again. If Banri knew anything, it was you had dated him because you loved him, unlike Banri. Banri didn’t love you—you were just different.

You were unexpected. You were so in touch with how you felt, expressing your emotions with your heart on your sleeve and Banri took it and ran. When you were overwhelmed, you cried. When you were happy, you smiled. When you were angry, you yelled. You were so normal, but there was something about how emotional and empathetic and caring you were that he had to date you. When he asked, you smiled. You rarely did that nowadays, Banri thought he would gain the feeling you lost—happiness—but, he didn’t. It seemed like anything you sacrificed for him wouldn’t go to him, shame.

When Banri was overwhelmed, he went to go impulsively start a fight with someone he knew didn’t deserve it. When Banri was happy, he probably was because hell was about to break loose for once. When Banri was angry, there was nothing to be said. Banri didn’t function like you, couldn’t express himself in the way you did because he didn’t feel like you. Yet, it was so nice to see you behave the way you did without shame, embarrassment, or humiliation. Banri liked you in a way, but he could never let himself love you the way you wanted.

Banri didn’t want to see you. That night, where you cried, Banri thought he’d come running back for more of those tears. But, was he uncomfortable? Were you beginning to trust him a little bit too much? Banri snuck in the dorms again, knowing Sakyo was on his case for being oddly quiet in his room. Luckily, no one questioned the tape of video game background noises on repeat besides his desk. When Banri dropped his bag onto his bed with a huff, a desk lamp flickered on with the pull of a string as his roommate stared at him with piercing slanted yellow eyes, like a wolf would with its competitor.

Banri was about to curse, tell Juza to fuck off like always before Juza narrowed his eyes, giving him a warning to shut up before he made him. Banri complied, knowing how thin these walls were. Juza just stood up, stepping closer until he was a close distance to Banri, his nostrils flaring and lips snarled. Banri, surprisingly, didn’t like fighting Juza. The evidence was right there next morning, it was just begging for a scolding and lecture from Omi.

“I know what you did.” Juza stated, but Banri almost had to laugh. There were so many things he’s done in his entire life, not to mention just the past month alone, how could he single it to one? Before Banri could give some bratty, sarcastic answer to make him mad, Juza continued.

“Banri, how long are you gonna keep hurting people for your own gain?” Juza asked without looking away, the silence hanging in the air. The tension was so unbearable, Banri just laughed despite the late hour. He knew Taichi was probably stirring awake just from the noise, fuck. Juza didn’t move, even when Banri got closer and fixed his collar like it was nothing.

“Juza...” Banri started, avoiding his eyes as he patted his shoulders with a little bit too much force. More than necessary, that is. “Stay out of it, will ya?” Banri turned to unload his goods, knowing stealing was usually at the bottom of his list, he just needed to get his mind off you. Juza scoffed, standing still as he gazed upon the things Banri somehow claimed without revealing who he was to the authorities.

Reaching out, Juza managed to snatch the deep purple mask from Banri’s back pocket, not needing to examine it any further as Banri spun around with a furious look. In that moment, when Juza said he knew what he did, it suddenly had more meaning now.

“This isn’t good for the company, you know that.” Juza reasoned but Banri was far gone. Banri had spiralled out of control much longer than everyone had anticipated, he hid it so well that no one realized the signs until it blew up in their face. At first, it was harmless little fights behind the school. Now, it was full scale crimes that he could actually be detained for, with a sentence in prison. Knowing Banri, he’d escape just to be in a car chase.

“You think I’d get caught?” Banri joked, pushing everything beneath his bed. Yanking the mask back, Juza pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to be as patient as possible. Before he could say anything, Banri threw his head back with a laugh so hollow it echoed. The desk light flickered again, leaving a moment where Banri was masked in the darkness, like he belonged.

“Don’t worry your ass off about it, the only person I’m hurting here is myself.”

Banri purposely left your name off his tongue. But, Juza knew, knew that nothing would change.

YOU MAKE ME WANT FOR SOMEBODY ELSE

WHAT I WANT, YOU GOT IT WRONG

EVERY DAMN THING YOU KNOW, I WANT IT MORE

JUST BRING ME HOME

“You could die.”

Banri didn’t react, not looking up. He was sat on your floor, closing the curtains tight for once and making sure no one could see him. You were on edge, eyes nervously darting to the window like the police would bust in any second. You stood over him, your shadow hiding every feature as he disappeared within the depths.

“No one said this came with being a damn criminal.” You cursed, crossing your arms and double–checking the locks. Banri had his same old mask in his hands, letting the few streetlights ghost over the material. How long had it been with him? He met you first time in the mask, you haven’t looked at him with it since, like you wished it wasn’t apart of his life anymore. Banri spoke, a heavy edge that had no particular meaning lacing his words.

“No one said you had to be with this damn criminal.”

You paused, slowly turning towards Banri who was still staring steel–eyed at that damn mask. You stomped over, pulling it out of his hands as Banri shot to his feet, about to protest before you stopped him.

“Don’t you get it?! I love you,” You paused, as if waiting to hear it said back to you. It never even crossed Banri’s mind, that’s how insignificant and temporary you were to him. You didn’t know why you even tried anymore. Ignoring the built–up tears choking up your words, you carried on with a shaky tone he was used to hearing.

“But, I’d rather you alive in prison than dead at some crime scene.” You admitted, feeling your hand shake around the mask. Banri nodded, but he wasn’t listening, you knew that. He didn’t flinch from your honesty, he was ignoring you like always. He didn’t bother listening to anything that went against him. You stared at the mask, like it was the source of all your problems, you had never hated something so much in your life.

“Just give it back.” Banri demanded, snatching the mask back with such quickness you couldn’t move out of the way. You watched him open the window, about to leave again, as you blinked away the tears. All he did these days was give you a reason to cry over someone who just didn’t care.

“Do you love me, Banri?”

Banri paused at the ledge, opening his mouth like he wanted to respond. One look at your face and he shook his head, whether out of disagreement or his inability to truthfully answer, you’ll never know. Banri forced the mask back on, concealing his identity as he slammed the window shut. You knew he wouldn’t be gone for too long, you’d see him on the news the next morning.

ON A WINTER NIGHT, I’M TAKING A RIDE ON THE RIVERSIDE HIGHWAY

THAT WE USED TO DRIVE ON

WE WERE IN THAT SMALL PRIDE NEXT TO THAT HUMMER BENZ AND ROVER

STEP ON IT, YOU GOT IT, SWITCH LANES, LET’S RIDE IT

BEEP BEEP, YOU’RE LOSING, CURSES COMING FROM YOUR MOUTH

“This just in, police are on the lookout for infamous thief, X, who stole a police officer’s car and drove it straight into the river. If you have any information on this criminal—” A blurry, grainy snapshot of a teen with a purple mask climbing to the bridge appeared. “Contact your local police station now.”

The news was nearly inaudible over breakfast that morning, but you didn’t dare look back at the television screen. You knew who would come by your room tonight as you gripped your phone in your hand.

Anything in the name of love, right? You would do anything for the ones you loved, dialing the familiar number and bringing it to your ear. A ring passed before someone answered.

If only Banri loved you like he loved death.

YOUR ATTITUDE, YOUR MANNERS

YOUR STYLE, YOUR FRIENDS, YOUR CREW

I JUST GOTTA LEAVE, I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE

I’M BUSY, DON’T CALL ME, ESPECIALLY WHEN I’M ASLEEP AT NIGHT

IT’S TOO LATE TO APOLOGIZE, YOU MADE ME INTO THIS

Banri was already pushing open your unlocked window, slipping in without a sound as he landed into the empty apartment. Strange, you would’ve already been waiting for him like the good person you were. Patiently sitting with your first–aid kit open and restocked for your favorite patient. Pulling off the mask, Banri glanced around to see all the lights were off, the city being your only source of illumination. Everything seemed untouched, in an odd way. There were no creases in your favorite spot on the sofa, no dirty dishes left at the coffee table, the blankets folded and organized. It was as if you hadn’t been home all day.

Before he could move another step, Banri heard a quiet breath. He snapped his head towards the sound, automatically preparing to fight but it was just you, standing nearby. You were already looking at him, a blank expression masking anything you were feeling at the moment. You held eye contact with him over a duration of silence. Not even one question, condolence, or argument. You didn’t say a word. Banri blinked, just to confirm you were actually there.

It was like another day, except you weren’t crying. There were no more tears to be spared, especially over someone who didn’t love you back. You just acted like there was nothing wrong, staring again and again as if this was the last time you’d ever see him.

Banri didn’t get a chance to move closer towards you. With one step, a creak of the floorboard, you straightened your back, not hiding anymore.

“Banri, I love you, you know that, right?” You asked patiently, Banri nodding hesitantly in response as he warily looked around the apartment. He didn’t get a chance to question a thing as you stepped closer, automatically causing him to move back quickly.

“Do you love me, Banri?”

A siren. No, multiple red and blue sirens flooded the dark room as the sets of tires screeched against the pavement. You looked different tonight, maybe it really was the lighting. Before Banri could put his mask back on and run, you placed your hand against his cheek just like that night weeks before. The hard thump of his heartbeat was audible, you wished you could’ve heard the sound even more.

You ran your thumb over a scar beneath his eye, a shaky smile on your dry lips. You wished he said it back, maybe you would’ve helped him escape.

“You should’ve loved me.”

Banri put his hands up with no where to run this time. X marks the spot.

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acdeaky · 4 years

Text

bad liar | II

warning: major angst, strong language

note: here’s part two in the bad liar miniseries! this is very angsty!! and i’m so sorry!! but we also love two idiots who fall in love; enjoy!

word count: 2.2k

there never seemed to be a good time to say anything. after that first date and the first article that came out, the days seemed shorter and the nights were long. you had decided on a regular date night on friday, with it being the best night for both of you (and if the press knew your schedule, it would be easy for them to find you).

things were going well. it took you a while (a few dates both in public and at the other’s apartment) for you to truly settling into the new... agreement in your relationship. ben was everything you could have wanted. he was gentle, warm, giving.

that was the thing.

ben was giving. he always gave; whether it was time, little gifts, his coat. no matter what, ben always seemed to be giving himself to this. of course, so were you, but not in the way that he was.

he made sure you were happy, that this was still what you wanted to do. but ben didn’t just do this because he felt like he had to, especially in the current circumstance. he did it because he wanted to.

he wanted to see you in his coat, he wanted to make sure you were happy, he wanted to be his. for real. and yet, in your self-destructive way, you played it down to ben just being a good person. why else would he be doing this?

since being friends, ben has always been like this and you loved it. you loved him for it.

and when you fell too hard, that’s when you began to slow down. it was like your feelings decided to put your whole lift on hold while your brain figured things out, instead of letting you help ben while figuring your heart out.

the dates began to slow. they weren’t as frequent and you always had an excuse. whether it was tiredness, or a meeting for work, or work needing you to stay late, ben took the bait and let you off.

and yet, he was still understanding. he knew this was a lot, he understood this was a lot for you. so, he brought you flowers. at one point, your front room looked like a ginormous grave. you knew the flowers where to show the press that you were still together; your sudden disappearance would have them believing the worse.

but you didn’t want flowers. you wanted - needed everything to stop. the feelings, the guilt, the pressure, the agreement. everything.

the text you sent to ben let your world know that it was okay to crash down around you. it was simple; i can’t do this anymore, i’m sorry; but effective. ben left countless texts, called your phone so much that it almost vibrated off of your kitchen table where you had left it as you drowned your sorrows in ice cream and TV. the voicemails would have broken your heart if you listened to them. piece by piece, you were falling apart, and it was all at the hands of yourself.

god, you were angry. angry at yourself for agreeing to this. angry at ben for letting him convince you that this was a good idea. angry at your heart for allowing you to be so stupid.

ben knew you would be. he knew how you thought and, almost completely, how you feeling. he could imagine you now, could see it as clear as day, as if he were there. the dirtied spoon resting limply in the now-empty cartoon of ice cream. the tv playing whatever show you had put on, one to cheer you up, but left you numb inside anyway.

ben knows he shouldn’t be where he is right now. he knows that the consequences of his actions will cause more emotion than the actual doing. but he can’t seem to help as his knuckles lift from his side and hover above the wood of your front door.

he was certain you hated him, more certain than that you loved him. but he’s selfish and even though the very last thing you want is to see him, he can’t resist the urge to just be here.

there’s no reason why you’d want to see him. you made it pretty clear in your text that this wasn’t what you wanted and that it was best to leave things and move on to something different, something new and less heartbreaking than whatever just happened.

which was fine. fuck - it really was fine, because he cares about you and your feelings and if this isn’t right, then it isn’t right, right? he isn’t good with these kinds of things - these things being fake dating your best friend to please your management and these things being being in love with your best friend. those things are what ben isn’t good with.

but he’s here, thinking again and again whether he should be and whether this is a good idea. he’s here and he really shouldn’t be, but he is selfish and taking the last few inches for himself before letting his fist rap against your door - the knot in his throat makes itself ever so present.

it’s only then that he realised that he’s shown up empty handed. ben almost knows exactly what you’re going through (having been through many ends of relationships with you before), and the last thing he does in this situation is show up empty handed. the thought of flowers flashes through him, but he can’t begin to imagine how many dead flowers you’ve thrown away in the past few weeks.

so he decided that it was best that he didn’t bring anything.

and it’s only then when he’s struck with the horror that he could have at least done something other than show up empty handed and with no real plan then take his chances with no call, text or warning.

he turns his attention to his pockets, patting them down as if they harbour some secret gift he isn’t aware of which‘ll be the key to winning you back. yet, all he pulls out is a scrap piece of paper and a token from a previous date of yours. and he’s so caught up in what he’s doing that he doesn’t notice you standing in your doorway now, looking at him as he scuffles to find something, anything, which will take the pain he knows you’re feeling away.

“what do you want, ben?” you had just been wollowing in self pity, the circles under your eyes becoming darker by the hour as you even struggle to stand up. making - forcing yourself to get off the sofa had sent a rush of blood and a wave of emotions to your head, and now, standing in front of ben as he stands there almost emotionless, a piece of paper and a coin in your hand makes you turn bitter. the wound you had begun to scab over with ice cream and unhealthy self-destruction split open and renewed.

“i just- i wanted to see you. i wanted to check you were okay.” he stated, letting your voice drag him out of whatever was happening in his mind and into the real world, with you. god, you were you. you were here and real and stood in front of him in your comfiest pyjamas and one of his old t-shirts from years ago which didn’t fit him and he-

“i’m fine.” you practically spat, ready to step back into your apartment and slam the door on his face. but you didn’t need to. ben was being ben. and being ben meant that he would be with you until you were happy, or until you resembled you again.

“please don’t lie to me.” ben sighed, taking another look at your outfit and then your face, seeing your eyes filled with sadness and screaming a thousand words to him when you had only said two.

“ben, i’m not lying; i’m fine.”

“you’re not fine,” you weren’t, god, you really, really weren’t. this fantasy you had created with ben was something you didn’t want to leave. you wanted to stay in th bubble of dates and small gifts and sweet kisses when you were together. it felt real. and you let yourself believe it. but it wasn’t. and you weren’t fine. you could put on an act to show ben that you were 100% fine, but he wouldn’t believe you.

he wouldn’t love you like you love him.

so you put on an act, pretended that every minute you spent together wasn’t breaking your heart little by little. and if it wasn’t fully broken, it was now. anything that was holding your heart together, holding your head, your soul, your whole being together, was now non existent.

“ben, i’m fine, honestly,” lie. “you didn’t have to come all the way over here to check on me.” he didn’t, but part of you was glad that he did.

“i did-”

“ben, you didn’t,” he really didn’t, but that other part of you wished he didn’t even leave the comfort of his apartment. you would, eventually, get over this, but seeing the person who unknowingly caused you indescribable pain over the past few weeks was not the way to begin healing.

“i just- i wanted to see you, but, well... um - i...” he paused for a moment, trying to inhale as if it would give him any fucking idea of what to say. he’s angry. so angry at himself for not seeing what this whole thing was doing to you sooner and now he realises that you must see his anger as he stops his knuckles from turning white by his side, “i’m realising how bad of an idea this was - i’m sorry.”

there it was. the slight crack in his voice, the broken syllables which told you ben was as upset and angry about this whole thing, maybe even more than you were because you at least knew how to hide how you were truly feeling. well, that’s what you thought anyway.

it wasn’t until ben took a deep breath, released his shoulders and relaxed his hands that you realised you were holding the exact same amount of tension as he was.

“there’s nothing to be sorry for-”

“there is.” there was, in ben’s mind, a whole bloody lot to apologise for, and he just couldn’t think of the right words to begin. so you just stood there, your body still well inside your apartment as your hand grasped onto the door as if it was the only thing holding you up. and ben, god, ben was stood there looking as beautiful as ever, regardless of the sadness hidden behind his eyes and beneath his baggy clothes.

“ben,” you start, carefully thinking of whatever else you could say without leaving this as a whole mess, “please go home. even though this ‘relationship’ is over, you’re my best friend and i don’t want you stood here feeling like this-”

“please, let me in.”

“no, ben. not like this, not while we’re both like this.”

“but we can sit and talk and eat ice cream and watch crappy TV like we always do.” god, the desperation in his voice and the pleading that came with it was almost enough to let him in. almost enough to let him back into your apartment and back into your self-pity cavern you had called your home for the past few weeks. it was almost enough for you to fall into his arms and tell him everything you felt.

but it wasn’t enough.

“goodnight, ben.” he didn’t move as you closed the door. he didn’t even move when he heard the lock clicking into place, nor did he move when he thought he heard your footsteps receding back into your apartment. instead, he stepped closer to the door, letting his forehead rest against the cool wood while his right hand lifted into a fist and lightly bang on the door.

it wasn’t a knock, no, far from it. but as you stood with your own forehead against the door and one hand resting on the shut lock, it scared you. almost as much as your own mind scared you.

neither of you moved for a moment or two. ben could feel the spirit of his body leave him before he left your door. he took his fist off of the wood first before standing up straight and stalking away. as you heard him leave, only then did you let a soft sob escape you. it rattled your entire body, but it was so powerful that you dropped to the floor, your side leaning against the wall beside the door.

it was ugly. your eyes began draining, your hands and shoulders shaking. but your cries were silenced. there was no noise leaving your body, the only noise filling your apartment was the TV, your little muffled cries and the whispers of what once was.

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TAGLIST: @shes-over-bored @i-barely-go-on-online @sohoneyspreadyourwings @brian-maybe-not @deakysbabybooty @1001-yellow-daffodils @retromusicsalad @hardcoredisneynerd @painkiller80 @leatherjacketmazzello @scarecrowmax @mebeatlized @seesiderendezvous @alright-mrfahrenheit @someone-get-a-medic @miamideacon @chlobo6 @teenagepeterpan @spacedustmazzello @deakysgurl @forever-rogue @xcdelilahxc @keepsdrawing @igotsuckedintothevoid @kill4hqueen @supersonicfreddie @laedymoon @inthedayswhenlandswerefew @warriorteam1924 @painandpleasure86 @boomerangbassist @mamaskillerqueen @lookuptotheskiesandsee @seouloffebruary @lost-aesthetic-of-past @madeinheavxn @xbarrjallenx

#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy fic #ben jones #bohemian rhapsody #bad liar series #x reader #acdeaky

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sombreboy · 4 years

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Love Maze »21

Previous » Next Series Masterlist ▎ 18+ ▎ pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook ▎ genre: School AU, crack humor, smut, angst, ETL, slow burn, fluff. ▎ word count: 9.1k ▎ ch.warnings: profanity, light angst, fluff, discussion of unhealthy drinking habits (be responsible<3), phonesex/facetime sex, masturbation, dirty talk, tae sucks jk off in yoongi's car (don't tell yoongi)

Co-writer: @velvetwicebang ♡♡♡

A few months had passed, and Taehyung was finally done with High School. He’d been living with Jungkook during that time, and honestly? It was one of the best decisions he’s ever made. The elder was nervous at first; walking around his boyfriend’s apartment in his tippy toes— like a stranger would. Something about it being ‘official’ made it hard to chew. However, It didn't take long before Taehyung really treated the place like his own.

Spitting loud profanities when he’d lost at a game? Check. Walking around in only his boxers? Check.

Walking around butt-naked? Also check. He felt at peace, which wasn’t something he could say he’s ever experienced at his old place. His father took it.. well, he didn’t know how he’d taken it. The man barely ever wore any expressions on his face, trying to figure him out was nearly impossible. Daejung’s last words stuck with him, ‘You’re going to regret choosing that lifestyle, Taehyung. Moving in with your.. your boyfriend? That’s sick.’ It was at that moment Taehyung knew he had to get out of there. And to think there was a hint of guilt left.. Fuck it, it was about time he put his goddamn happiness first.

“Should I pack the blue shirt or the black one?” Sadly, good things almost always come to an end. Even if it was temporary, Tae could feel the sadness creeping up on him. Months away from his boyfriend sounded like pure torture. Taehyung was nineteen now, and he’d decided to attend college in America. The elder always joked that he was one year wiser, but maybe that was simply a facade to hide his inner fears. He was scared to move to a different country, scared to leave behind the only person who understood him. But if he wanted a better life for the both of them, he’d have to work hard to earn a stable job. Maybe being a businessman was his.. thing. At the moment, he felt no attraction towards it, but maybe as time went on he’d learn to fall in love with the career.. “Or should I pack both.” Here he was, packing the night before as expected, rushing through things.

“Kook, don’t be sad.” The younger’s silence was deafening. “Think of all the phone sex we’re gonna have, we haven’t done that before.” Taehyung pushed aside his internal conflict about which stupid shirt to pack, moving closer to his boyfriend to loop his arms around the boy’s waist. “Hey.. we’ll FaceTime. I know it’s not the same thing, but it’s better than nothing..”

Jungkook's melancholic expression brightened slightly at Taehyung's way of trying to lighten the mood. ''It does sound pretty hot...'' He tried to play along to rid himself of the emotions that swirled in his chest. Kook didn't want Taehyung to leave to begin with, but he hadn't actively tried to stop him. What kind of boyfriend would he be if he told him to stay simply for the reason that he wanted him close? He couldn't be selfish. ''You better call me often.'' Kook scrunched his nose, wrapping his arms around Tae's neck to draw their faces closer, allowing the younger to litter kisses all over his boyfriends face. ''And don't let any cute americans steal you from me.''

“You don’t have to worry about that.” Taehyung’s face scrunched up at the little kisses, playfully trying to wriggle away from Jungkook’s lock. “I’ll pick you over them any day.” After pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his boyfriend’s lips, Tae held out both shirts.

“Now, which one?”

“Babe, why are they here again?” It was nine in the morning, and Taehyung was quietly muttering those words into Jungkook’s ear. “I just wanted to say bye to yo—“

“I’ve never been in an airport before! Woah.” Hoseok’s wide eyes lit up as bright as the sun, palms pressed flat onto the big window as he watched an airplane take off into the air, gaze glued on it until the clouds engulfed it whole.

“It’s really nothing special..”

“Yoongi, shut the fuck up. Let me enjoy it.”

Tae turned to look back at his boyfriend, stifling a small, amused smile. Maybe he’d miss these guys a bit... And girl. Turns out, Jisoo wasn’t too bad. Namjoon and her have been officially dating for a few months now, and he’d moved in with her as well. Both couples spent a lot of time with one another, and naturally, Taehyung grew fond of her. Whatever happened between Jungkook and the woman, that was in the past. Their noona was head over heels for Joon, her loving stares said that much.

“You sure you got everything?” Jin pestered for the millionth time, earning himself the millionth nod of the head from Taehyung. “Yes, hyung. I’m sure.”

Jungkook relished in the bickering between his hyungs and his boyfriend while it lasted, but the anxiety kept coming back to him every single time he glanced over at the clock.. Time had never passed as quickly as it did until now. When the group finally had given their proper cheers and kind goodbyes, they allowed for Jungkook to finally get some space with Taehyung.. And honestly, it kind of hurt even more that way. He didn't want him to leave. Every single thing they did together, and suddenly they both had to spend their daily lives apart. Well, aside from their upcoming virtual relationship. ''Ah, shit...'' Jungkook raised his eyebrows high, staring up at the ceiling to prevent his eyes from tearing up. It didn't work that well, instead they glazed over as he looked back down at his boyfriend, reaching out to grab the elders hands in his, forcing him to let go of his baggage for the moment. He wasn't sure what to say, and he for sure knew if he tried-- he'd just start crying. But he had to say something. ''Do your best...'' Kook scrunched his nose as he smiled through the stray tears that were forcing themselves down his cheeks. ''And be safe.. and eat enough.. I heard their burgers are fuckin' good there.'' He rambled on, wishing time would slow down further.

The more Jungkook spoke, the more it crumbled down Taehyung’s composed front little by little. “Yeah,” He laughed weakly, a single tear shamelessly cascading down his face until Tae wiped it away with the back of his hand. “I’ll uhm.. I’ll eat a lot of burgers.” He too looked up at the ceiling, his eyes stung. His throat closed in, his chest felt heavy.. It hurt to say goodbye. “Come here.” His voice trembled as Taehyung pulled his boyfriend in for one last hug, hiding his face in Jungkook’s neck while he squeezed him tight. The elder’s hands grasped onto the fabric of the younger’s shirt, body beginning to quiver as he suddenly found it impossible to hold back his emotions. “I miss you already..” Taehyung murmured, harshly biting down on his lip to stop it from trembling. “I love you so much, remember that.”

Jungkook took a deep, shaky breath to keep himself together. It was so hard not to break down and cry right then and there, but he managed to stay somewhat collected. However, tears were given at a moment like this. "I love you." Kook murmured as he buried his nose in Tae's hair, wrapping one arm tightly around his boyfriends waist while the other reached to rub his neck. "Time will fly by, you'll be back before you know it." His words were comforting, and he wasn't entirely sure if they were meant for Taehyung or for himself. Possibly both. And it did work... a little bit. Unfortunately, the time came where they had to part, Jungkook practically forcing himself to let go of Taehyung. He wiped the elders tears away with his thumbs before kissing his cheeks, as if his lips were the remedy to make them stop from trickling down. "See you soon."

The group slowly came closer once more, waving Taehyung goodbye along with Jungkook, all of them huddled together to keep the youngest together as he clamped down on his trembling lower lip. When his eyes met Tae's, he couldn't help but smile. A wide, toothy grin shining through despite his cheeks being glossy with his tears, exaggerated waves coming from all of them-- but most of all, Jungkook.

“Jungkookie, he’ll be back before you know it.” Jisoo smiled, moving away from under Namjoon’s arm to soothingly smooth her hand across Kook’s back, taking notice of how taut his posture was under her touch. The rest of the gang nodded, adding in their words of encouragement.

“You’ll see each other soon! Now.. let’s eat! I’m fucking starving!”

Time did fly by indeed, and Taehyung kept in contact with his boyfriend, ringing him up whenever he could. The time difference oftentimes made it challenging, but they rose above the obstacles trying to keep them divided. Tae spoke to Kook about anything and everything, ranging from newfound friends, to how his English sucked ass, and if American burgers lived up to the hype. Turns out, they were alright. He’d also tell him how much he missed him, and sometimes, his roommate Jayson would pop in to say ‘hi’. They knew about the younger— maybe too much, as Taehyung didn’t keep him a secret, all of his inner insecurities were left in the past. There were lonely nights where he would more often than not wish he could hold Jungkook to sleep, play with his boyfriend’s hands, run his fingers through his long hair; but it wasn’t the reality he hoped for ...Not for long.

In just a few more days, Tae gets back in a plane. Excited was an understatement, he couldn’t wait to go back home, even if it was just for a week. Like most nights, Taehyung stayed up really late to catch a glimpse of Jungkook in the mornings. They’d planned to talk today, and there was no way his urge to sleep was going to get in the way of that. With his phone in his eager hands, Tae clicked on his boyfriend’s profile, running a hand through his hair whilst he waited for Jungkook to pick up his FaceTime call.

In the beginning, being away from Taehyung was absolute hell. There was no other way to describe it, Kook was sure of it. He had to brush his teeth by himself, beat the boss on this new game all alone, and the vacant spot in his bed was all too obvious. But with time, it became a bit easier, especially with his friends occasionally checking in on him at the beginning. But as time passed, their visits became less frequent. They all did have jobs after all.

Jobs.

Jungkook had been hunting for one of those for what felt like forever, but it was probably months, without any luck whatsoever. It was harder than he thought, and it was so frustrating. What was he supposed to tell his boyfriend?

"Shit, how did I forget..." Jungkook mused as he held his phone up, looking at the sweet contact photo that lit up. He was slouched down on his couch, his even longer curls hanging past his eyes as he moved his hair behind his ears to display the new earrings he'd gotten, two silver hoops in each ear. "Hey babe~" Kook wishes he didn't have those previous 'drown your sorrows' drinks before the call, the half slur obvious in his speech.. this habit was easy to break whenever he wanted to, surely. Him having a drink every now and then to relax was harmless, right?. But he didn't care about specifics now, he was just happy to see his boyfriend. Now, the one specific Kook didn't pay attention to, was that he was drunk early in the morning. He hadn't even slept yet. "Babyyy... miss you."

Every time, Taehyung swore he felt his heart skip a beat when Jungkook’s face showed up on the screen. But unlike usual, his boyfriend appeared less.. vibrant. Even with the shitty internet connection, the eyebags underneath Jungkook’s sullen eyes were clear. Was he not getting enough sleep? ‘Shit, am I calling too early in the mornings?’

The slur in the younger’s voice heightened Taehyung’s worries, who in response brought his phone closer to his face, as if he could further inspect Kook’s situation thousands of miles away. Was he drunk..? “Jungkook-ah.. are you okay?” He seemed out of it, his tangled hair appeared as if he’d ran his fingers through it countless times, pondering about something. Jungkook looked like a hot mess, and not just a ‘I’ve just woken up’ kind. “I— I miss you too, baby. Are you taking care of yourself, though?”

"Yes, 'm good," Kook only spoke a half truth. He was feeling pretty good at the moment, but generally? It was tough as shit. "I just miss you a lot..." Jungkook squinted slightly to focus on the face on his phone screen, a small smile on his lips as he attempted to avoid any discussion deeper than surface level. "You look pretty, baby~ oh! Look at this, I got new e-earrings." Kook brought the camera closer as he showed them off, the reddened hue in his eyes more obvious at this point.

If anyone could tell the symptoms of a drunk, it would be Taehyung. “Cool, new earrings, pretty. Kook, have you been drinking?” Taehyung’s brain couldn’t push it aside any further, it scared the hell out of him to see Jungkook this way. He had to watch his father turn into a drunk after his mother’s death, Tae only hoped his boyfriend was a lot smarter than the man, not relying on alcohol to momentarily solve life’s hurdles. But.. maybe this was a one time thing. Somehow, that option eased Tae’s visible distress. J ungkook wasn’t one to get drunk on the daily, this must be new. “Kook, baby, your earrings are really pretty. I just.. is there a reason why you’re drunk so early in the morning?”

Jungkook scrunched his nose, not even half satisfied with the unenthusiastic response to his new jewelry. Understandable though, he was very unlike his normal self. Well, the self he showed Taehyung. Truth is, Kook had turned to the bottles more frequently as of late due to the constant rejection of finding a job. Life was boring and draining all at once. All he did was work out, hunt for a job, and drink. Occasionally, he'd sit down and draw during these nights-- wondering just how many Taehyung inspired doodles he'd jotted down. "I'm just a bit drunk from last night still, I uh.." he ran his hand through his hair once more, tongue quickly rolling against the inside of his cheek. "Long day yesterday, and a long night.. couldn't sleep." Even if he didn't say specifics, it was still a partial truth once more. He didn't want Tae to worry.. and Kook felt too embarrassed to admit he'd been this unlucky. Who would've thought that not having a proper education would affect you this bad? Well, Jungkook definitely knew.

Taehyung did worry. It was in him to overly worry about his boyfriend’s well being, to constantly ask himself how he was doing, if he was scraping by with the little money he had saved up— if Jungkook was okay. “Hey, you know you can always tell me what’s up, right..? Even if it’s late over here, or if you just need someone to listen to you, I dunno, vent about how much you suck at beating bosses without me. Call me.” Tae meekly sighed, the worry having yet to diminish from his furrowed eyes. “I’m your boyfriend, I wanna listen to everything you have to say no matter how long your day or night was. I’ll listen to every bit of it.”

Jungkook wasn't expecting his eyes to glaze over with a layer of his tears at the words, his doe eyes growing in size as he stared at the man on his screen with nothing but his intoxicated affection. What was he thinking... Maybe he should just be honest. ''Okay,'' he took a quiet breath. ''Today I went to six different places that were hiring... All blatantly just rejected me. And it sucked.'' He chuckled sourly. ''But.. it's fine, it won't last for long.'' He's said this many times before, for months at end. He just hoped soon, luck would be on his side. ''Anyway... can we just talk about you, please? I can't wait to see you..''

“Oh, Kook..” Verbally, Taehyung didn’t know where to start. If he was there, he’d smother Jungkook in kisses, hug him securely until his arms became numb, or walk over to the fridge to fetch him banana milk. Those always seemed to make him feel better, no matter how small. But now that Taehyung was oceans away, he had to rely on his words. That scared the shit out of him; he’s never been quite the ‘motivational’ speaker. “Yeah, I mean, it won’t last long. Those people are dumbasses for letting someone as hardworking and kind like you slip by.” Tae smiled at the camera, “It’ll get better, don’t worry.” Growing tired of laying on his stomach, Taehyung flipped himself around. He stretched his arms out to give his boyfriend a broader view. The faint scar on his forehead was visible now that he laid on his back, but they were both used to it by now. “I can’t wait to see you either. Just a few more days, baby, and we can make up for all of the kisses and sex we missed out on~” The elder sang, thankful his roommate couldn’t understand what he was saying. “No but really, I just.. I can’t wait to hold you. I’ve had to hug my damn pillow to sleep.” Taehyung turned to look at the other man in the room, bringing the phone closer to his lips as if what he was going to tell Jungkook was a secret. “Jayson doesn’t like my snoring like you do.”

“I heard my name!” A pillow came flying at Tae’s face, who just laughed as he aimed it back at him, the urge to sleep no longer knocking at his door.

Jungkook's smile grew, his front teeth on full display on the screen as he chuckled until his shoulders were shaking. ''Yeah, we have a lot of catching up to do...'' He took a deep breath, eyes fixed on the boxy smile on his boyfriend. ''I really miss touching you, kissing you... everything.'' Kook wiggled his eyebrows, running his fingers through his long hair, knowing Tae loves the look of it. ''Ah, just the thought makes me hot.'' Well, and the alcohol still streaming through his veins that amplified his sudden shift in mood. Taehyung might not be the best talker-- but he surely did enough to distract the younger from his troubles by replacing one thought with another.

Figuring it would transcend past their language barrier, Taehyung flipped Jayson off before he discarded the pillow and turned his back to the dramatically offended man. Dedicating his attention to his phone once again, Tae’s fingers swam through his messy hair to fix the damage. A cheeky smile tugged at his lips when he saw Jungkook do the same. “You know what that does to me..” His hair’s gotten so long, it was hot. Really hot. Those earrings fit him nicely, too. “You know what else is hot?” The elder wiggled his brows, building up the unnecessary suspense just for the hell of it. “Me. I’m sweating in here, it’s like they don’t have any air conditioner or something.”

"Well, I know a solution," Jungkook brought the camera closer to his face, wiggling his eyebrows right back at his boyfriend. "but sadly you have a roommate..." he clicked his tongue. "I really want to see you..." Knowing Taehyung would get the hint, Kook leaned back on his couch as he allowed a small hiccup to escape his lips. He really had no shame, and was the alcohol to blame? Only partially, he mused. He'd become less and less embarrassed by things. It was just fun. Especially to keep one hand on his phone, while the other slowly palmed himself through his sweatpants, not allowing Tae to see any of it-- just the light twitches in the youngers eyebrows along with the soft, barely audible sigh that Taehyung knew too well.

“Fuck, Jungkook..” Taehyung bit down on his lip, sneaking a rushed glance over his shoulder. Shit, Jayson was still up; and if he continued to be heavily immersed into that book, it’d be a hell of a while before he goes to sleep. Tae was in no position to have virtual sex with his boyfriend, and Jungkook was purposely dangling a carrot in front of his face, taunting him. “You’re a brat, you know.” The elder nearly let out a grunt at the peek of the younger’s hand, moving vigorously whilst the camera shook slightly. “Making your boyfriend hard so late at night, tsk.” Taehyung’s hips rocked slightly, feeling his cock awaken with every twitch in Jungkook’s blissful face. “Goddamnit— uh, I’ll be going out,” He spoke to his roommate in broken English, throwing on his slippers and coming close to falling down face first onto the ground. Taehyung caught himself, though, rushing out of his dorm in a hurry. The elder pushed on the door to a vacant stairway, leaning his back against the wall. The light was dimmed, but it was enough to see what was going on. “You’re already seeing me baby, you gotta be more specific.” He picked up where they left off, deep voice hushed as he was afraid he’d wake someone up. "What do you wanna see, babe?” One hand snuck down past the waistband of his pants, welcomed by the warmth in his briefs as he toyed with his own cock, rubbing circles onto the swollen head.

Jungkook slouched down further on the couch, half laying down as he pulled his turgid length out to give it a proper stroke, drawing out a quiet groan from his own throat. "Wanna see your dick, babe..." his lips were swelling into a plush pout with the way he kept tugging at them with his teeth, the screen shaking more as he jerked himself off with more vigor. "Wanna see me too? I'm already so wet for you.." Kook didn't wait for a reply before he pressed the button to switch to his back camera, making a show out of the way his veiny hand held his swollen cock in a firm grip. He was practically dripping in precum, the glistening shine amplifying the red hue of his tip. "See what you do to me? Shit, I can't wait for you to come back."

“Oh fuck...” Taehyung’s ragged breathing reached the other line, touching himself to the lewd image on the screen while spreading his precum along the thick girth. “I wanna feel you.” What he’d do to fuck himself on Jungkook’s fat cock; his entrance clenched tightly at the thought. Frustrated, the elder whipped his big dick out. He gasped once it accidentally smacked against the screen, the wet sound too noticeable to ignore. “I don’t know what I want more, baby. To slam into your tight ass until you’re screaming my name, or to ride the shit out of you until I’m crying from how strong you are..” Taehyung lowered the phone to proudly show off his erection, throwing his head back against the wall as he put his hand to work. Soft, raspy moans emitted from his throat as more precum oozed out of him, some dripping down to the floor.

"We will do both when you're back, for sure-- oh my god, you're so fucking hot.." Jungkook flipped the camera again, angling so that Tae was able to see Kooks face and cock in one from above, the constant slick sounds of their hands and groans echoing from both of the boys' speakers. Actually, it was quite surprising. Jungkook wasn't that into the idea of cybersex at first, which made the first time a bit awkward when they tried. But the more they did it-- which was as often as possible, Jungkook had discovered that he was quite the filthy mouth. He loved seeing Taehyung's reactions to the dirty talk that Jungkook provided; and it surely did the same to him.

His boyfriend’s far from stable voice paired with the way his own cock twitched in his slick hand had Taehyung grunting, even moaning at the image on his screen. This came naturally for Jungkook, and it drove the elder insane. “Shit, a-are you close?” He followed after him, displaying his throbbing cock and face at once. The sounds of his sore hand sliding easily across his length were clearer than ever, and Taehyung didn’t know how much longer he’d last if they kept this up. “Baby, ‘m gonna cum..” Desperately trying to get himself to let go of the ledge, Tae picked up the pace, not caring that his moans were uncontrollably loud.

''Yes, cum babe-- I'm so close too.. fuck, I want you so bad,'' Jungkook nods hurriedly, the glistening sweat on his forehead catching strings of his dark curls to stick to his skin. ''I wish I could cum all over your face, your body, s-shit, shit...'' He moaned, throwing his head back to display his strained neck, swallowing tightly as he stroked himself at a brutal pace, feeling his thigh muscles tense up. His hips were bucking up into his hand, eyes completely transfixed on his boyfriend until a dragged out, throaty moan echoed in Taehyung's speaker. Several ropes of cum gushed from Kook's swollen tip, some dribbling down to his hand, some pooling at his stomach. " Fuck, I'm cumming so much--Tae...'' He closed his eyes, the phone shaking in his hold as he kept stroking himself until he was completely emptied.

“Wanna feel you cum inside of me..” Taehyung tugged at his lower lip with his teeth, trying to silence the very moans that could get him caught. “A-ah, fuck..” The second he hazily saw his boyfriend crumble down to a pathetic mess, was the moment his own orgasm drew out a deep, drained cry of alleviation. Strings of cum burst onto his front camera, his screen, and the floor underneath him. “Cum baby, shit that’s hot..” Taehyung’s slick hand soon came to a bumpy halt, instead focusing on catching his lost breaths. He opened his lust-invaded eyes a few seconds later, the darkness within them slowly vanishing to its hiding spot. The elder wiped away the cum off his phone, now able to see Jungkook’s worn out state more clearly. “You look hot as fuck with those earrings, Kook.” Taehyung quietly whimpered as he tucked himself back in, grimacing slightly at the sticky cum latching on to his hand. “I wanna see them dangle next time I’m under you.” Despite his lewd words, a content sigh led to a pleased smile. Shit, Tae really needed an outlet of some sort to let out some steam, and this was the perfect solution. Classes were stressful as fuck, and his calls with Jungkook always made him feel better. “Love you. Really wish I wasn’t saying that to your dick right now.” Tae lazily smirked, unable to see Kook’s face past the pole on the screen.

Jungkook's breathy laugh echoed in the room, bringing the phone up to his face that was a satisfied mess, curls sticking to his skin and every other direction. "I'll get longer earrings for you then.. I love you more." He carelessly wiped his sticky hand on the fabric of his pants before a yawn emitted from his lips. "I'm getting sleepy... I really wish you were here. Can't wait to see you." He pouted towards the camera, "I imagine you would jump into my arms at the airport, I'll carry you home." With that in mind, the little doe eyed boy was anything but small by now. His muscle mass had kept growing while Tae was gone, and by now he knew that his boyfriend would swoon even harder with the way he always loved the younger's strength.

“I’ll be home soon, Kook.” The elder smiled, wishing he was there to brush away the curls clinging to Jungkook’s forehead. “I will hold you to that. From how tired I’ll be, you might just have to carry me home.”

Taehyung had been counting down the days he’d be able to see Jungkook in person again— to jump into his boyfriend’s arms like Kook had envisioned. The anticipated day seemed like it’d never come, but when it was finally time for him to board on a plane back home, Tae was ecstatic! The thirteen hour flight was quick to tear down his initial enthusiasm, but knowing Jungkook would be waiting for him at the finish line was enough of a boost to get him going. Hours flew by with him eating, staring blankly at the seat ahead, sleeping, and repeating. It’d become kind of a routine by now.. Taehyung was struggling to stay awake throughout the last few minutes, but the moment the voice on the speaker announced they’d landed safely, Tae’s eyes shot wide open. He was back home, to Jungkook. The elder hadn’t seen his boyfriend in months, which naturally felt like years on his end.

Once he’d gotten checked in and found his luggage, Taehyung practically speed-walked to the area that had Kook waiting for him. His heart was pounding. It almost felt like he was back in their school’s common room, anxiously rocking on his feet as he craned his neck, searching for those doe eyes among the crowd. There were other couples that were reunited; a girl jumped into a man’s arms, some held out big ‘Welcome Back!’ signs, and others had bouquets of flowers meant for the other person. Taehyung didn’t care about any of that, he just wanted to hug the shit out of his boyfriend. Maybe even kiss him in front of all these people..

Jungkook was anxious, the last couple hours of waiting was absolutely dreadful. Back home, he'd rushed around to clean up at the last minute for his boyfriend's arrival. Luckily, he'd gotten his drivers license done with the amount of free time he'd gotten lately. After endless begging for the fact that Kook wanted to go by himself, he was allowed to borrow Yoongi's not so new, new crappy car. Finally, the moment Jungkook had been longing for arrived as he stood behind the crowd, anxiously shifting his weight between his feet. The very second he saw the flow of people coming through the gate of the flight Taehyung was on, his doe eyes searched for the face he's been missing every single second for months on end.

"Taehyung!" Kook chirped out through the crowd as he scuffed through when he pointed out his person. The butterflies practically exploding in his chest was overwhelming, his entire body moving on it's own towards Tae with large arms reaching out for him along with the brightest toothy smile on his lips.

“Jungk— woah, hey there.” Before Taehyung had any time to register the direction of where his name came from, he looked ahead only to see his boyfriend practically lunging himself at him. “Baby, you’re loud.” Tae softly chuckled, not wasting any time before neglecting his luggage, instead wrapping his arms tight around the younger’s waist. Fuck, he’d missed him so much.. The mild scent of his clothes, his soft locks, everything ranging from big to small. “Shit, I-I missed you. A lot.” Taehyung pulled away to cup Jungkook’s pretty face in between his hands, his faint smile morphed into a boxy grin before he took a big leap of faith and molded their lips together. The elder led the kiss, slow and steady, not worried about the ruckus of people surrounding them. Taehyung was just happy to be back home, and he was going to show it the only way he knew how.

Jungkook's arms wrapped around Taehyung's smaller back to pull him back in, he craved to feel their chests pressing together once more as he had to hold back with every fibre of his being not to devour Taehyung whole. It was a sweet moment, yes, but Jungkook had been starved of the physical affection he's so fond of for months. Softly, he kissed his boyfriend back, but the desperation behind the way he kept going back in for more was evident. ''I missed you too, so much.'' The younger finally said when their kiss came to an end, pulling back just enough to be able to look at each other. Taehyung looked so good, a bit more tan than when he'd left. His face looked fuller, like he'd gained a little bit of weight, and his hair had grown-- just like his own. Tae looked so different, yet he was exactly the same. ''You look pretty.'' Kook scrunched his nose, leaning in to kiss the small mole on his boyfriend's nose, ''You must be so tired. Wanna get out of here?''

As fast as lightning, Taehyung’s head bobbed in agreement. All he’d done was sit in a plane, yet every inch of him was longing for a nap. Turns out, airplane seats weren’t the most comfortable. “How did you get here, by the way. Did one of the guys give you a ride?” The elder spoke too soon, one of his brows arched in question when he saw Jungkook unlock the doors of a car he’s never seen before. “Kook... what’s this?” He chuckled. His boyfriend’s never told him he’d learned how to drive. Still confused, Taehyung threw his light baggage into the trunk of the car, walking around to situate himself on the passenger’s seat. This felt.. odd. Tae was used to being the one who drove them places. Seeing Jungkook in the driver’s seat was new, to say the least. He’d gotten used to it, though. The few minutes he’d seen Jungkook driving with one strong hand on the wheel, the veins in his forearm sticking out. The way his brows furrowed in utter concentration..

Fuck.

It was a lie, Taehyung wasn’t used to it. It’d gotten to a point where Tae couldn’t take staring anymore, his drowsiness replaced with lust. “Pull over.” He ordered in his deep voice, squeezing Jungkook’s thigh. “I’m gonna suck your dick.” It was straightforward, but the elder wasn’t going to beat around the bush anymore.

Jungkook's lips parted in a light gasp when he felt Taehyung's firm grip on his thigh, glancing over at his boyfriend with raised eyebrows. ''R-right now?'' From the look in Taehyung's eyes, that seemed to be the case, the urgency in them non negotiable. They were half way home, but the lust stirring in both of them had them both too impatient. Kook pulled over and parked in a more secluded area by a simple gas station, not much people around as it was rather late. Jungkook turned the engine off before turning to properly look at Taehyung, snapping his seatbelt off within the same motion. ''Missed me that bad?'' He smiled coyly, leaning back in his seat to spread his legs a bit, showing off the already half hard erection that remained hidden underneath his pants.

“Mhm.” Taehyung thrusted his seatbelt to the side, placing one hand on each of Jungkook’s thighs as he leveled himself down in front of the younger, on his knees like a good boy. Gazing up at him through his eyelashes, Tae took his time when dragging down his boyfriend’s zipper with his teeth, holding a show despite their eagerness. “You learned how to drive?” His rough hand snuck into Jungkook’s boxers, the corner of his lips twitching up into a sly smirk once he’d finally gotten to feel Kook’s cock. The last few months of cybersex had him foaming at the mouth. He was always left pleased, but not as pleased as he could’ve been. The elder wanted more than to simply see Jungkook’s dick on the screen, no, he needed to touch. “You look so hot driving, babe..” Taehyung excitedly pulled out Jungkook’s hardened shaft, eyes twinkling with a sea of mischief. “So fucking hot.. shit.” He pressed a chaste kiss onto the tip. “Look at you, learning how to drive so you could pick up your boyfriend at the airport.” Tae stamped another open mouthed kiss on the swollen head, his fingers curling tighter around the base. “Missed this cock so fucking much..” He left a trail of wet kisses along the sides, running his tongue along the veins that traveled within the soft skin.

"Yeah, wanted to pick you up myself..." Kook nodded, his breath quickly getting heavier with each second watching Tae get to work that passed. "Missed your mouth so much, Tae.." Jungkooks gaze was fixed on the show that Taehyung was putting on for him, unable to hold back his audible sighs in pleasure. He could tell that Tae missed him, or rather; feel it. The needy look in his eyes told him that much, and kook's eyes mirrored it a thousand fold. "Fuck, yes... put it in your mouth babe, please..." The tease drove him mad way too quickly, the patience thrown out the window the moment Taehyung got on his knees. All Jungkook could think about was to feel his cock wrapped in the wet, fleshy warmth of his boyfriend's mouth.

The elder did as he was told— after teasing Jungkook some more; licking and squeezing at the rigid, sensitive skin. Then, Tae supposed enough was enough. Even he was getting awfully impatient. “Hmm~” The vibrations of his echoing hums spread flat along Jungkook’s cock, same as his tongue while Taehyung slowly bobbed his head, stroking the rest of what he couldn’t fit in his mouth. His other hand snuck underneath Jungkook’s shirt, feeling around the tight muscles he’d once dreamed of touching when he was away. Now, it was his reality. The elder’s soft inhales clashed against his boyfriend’s pubic region with every backward gliding motion, followed by noticeable exhales alongside every downward drag. He loved taking his time with this man, every twitch of his dick was to die for.

"Ah, fuck that feels good..." More than good, it felt fucking amazing. Jungkook had no restraint regarding any attempt to hold his throaty moans back, loudly exclaiming the pleasure Taehyung's mouth put him through. "I love you, I love your mouth.. shit i missed it so much." He hastily murmured between ragged breaths, one hand running through the dark locks hanging freely on Tae's head, gently keeping his hair tangled between his fingers. Kook hadn't felt this sensation in such a long time that he almost forgot how amazing it was compared to his own hand, his cock already growing to full size inside of Taes mouth, twitching desperately as well as profusely coating his boyfriend's tongue with precum.

Whether it was the soreness building up in his jaw, how challenging it was to breathe with every dip of his head, or the simple hunger for the taste of Jungkook’s burst of cum; Taehyung was dead set on alleviating his boyfriend free of the pent up energy he had stored throughout his body— especially his dick. He could feel Kook’s cock twitching, as if the attention it was getting was beginning to be too much. It drove Tae to suck him off faster, harder, sloppier. His eyes glistened over with a layer of unshed tears, the relentless deep-throating finally taking its toll on him. “Hmm..!” He looked up at his boyfriend, practically begging him to cum with one desperate gaze. Taehyung longed to taste the salty yet faintly sweet flavor of Jungkook’s load, hoping it would quench the dryness in his abused throat.

Jungkook's jaw hung open in awe, the eyes meeting his own from below looking desperately needy for his cum. Fuck, it was so hot; Kook knew he was unable to hold it any longer than this. Besides, there was really no need to, the elder was more than ready to be rewarded for his hard work. "Gonna cum, gonna cum, oh god...." Jungkook's words were shaking just like his entire body, the hand in Taehyung's hair tightening the grip to bring him down on his cock simultaneously with the way the younger bucked his hips upwards. Only a few more thrusts were needed before Jungkook's hips stuttered, thighs tensing up as his cum gushed out of his throbbing length to fill up Taehyung's mouth. "Tae, fuuuck yes...." he hissed with a throaty groan, leaning his head back as he licked his chapped lips.

Taehyung’s eyes widened at the sudden gush of cum, the blurry pair gradually coming down to their original, hooded shape once his tongue had gotten familiar with the taste. It was just as he remembered; tangy with a hint of sweet. He pulled away from Jungkook’s glistening cock with a ‘pop’, staring up at the younger as he willingly swallowed the rest of his warm load. Tae’s tongue swiped over his swollen lips, claiming the last bit of cum that lingered around the corners. Noticing that Jungkook’s dick was still oozing with delicious cum, he leaned back in to wrap his plush lips around the tip, cheeks profusely adorned with a hue of red as his wet tongue circled around the head; giving it a proper cleanup.

A soft, content sigh emitted from Jungkook, hips twitching slightly when Tae cleans up his sensitive cock from the aftermath of his orgasm. "Wow.." is all he could muster to say, that was probably the best oral he's ever received ever. Scrap that, it definitely was the best. Kook glanced down at his boyfriend as the haze of lust slowly dispersed, the doe eyes filled with affection replacing it. He loosens his grip in Taes hair to comb his fingers through it, down to caress his cheek. "I love you." His small smile grew, "so much. Get up here and let me kiss you."

The elder wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, finishing tucking Jungkook back in before he rose up from his knees, straddling his boyfriend’s lap. It was a tight space, but he liked it that way. All Taehyung wanted was to spend a week glued onto Jungkook’s side, knowing he’d regret it if he hadn’t spent every waking second with his favorite person. He only had a week, after all. Tae was going to make sure it was the best week yet. “I love you more.” He moved his slightly swollen lips against Jungkook’s chapped ones, wrapping his arms tight around the younger’s neck to bring him even closer, feeling the rhythmic pattern of their warm chests rise and fall against one another. This was something he missed, a lot. Taehyung withdrew from their gentle kiss after his breathing turned scarce, slender fingers lightly fidgeting with the silver hoops in Kook’s ears. “Is this your car? It’s almost as shitty as mine.”

"It's Yoongi's, I can't afford a car.." Jungkook chuckled, the undertone of his words a bit sour. He really wanted one of his own, but finding a job had been a shitty experience thus far. Losing hope was an understatement, but it wasn't gone. "I like your car more." He adds with a wider smile as he leans in closer, placing small kisses along Taes jaw to soothe the light aching from all the sucking he'd done. "Ready to go home?" Kook asks as he's practically holding Taehyung like he had no intention of letting go, contradicting his every word. He wanted to tell his boyfriend close for the entire week; itll suck to be alone for a second time, so every single second together matters.

Considering Yoongi lived close to their apartment, Taehyung insisted they hand the boy back his car (before they dirty it even more). Tae still couldn’t believe he sucked his boyfriend off in someone else’s car. It wasn’t the ideal setting, but Yoongi didn’t have to know.. Walking wouldn’t be a problem, Taehyung didn’t have an awful lot of baggage to carry— two, actually. He’d missed the familiarity of the streets; the small Noodle Shop owned by an older lady, a questionable tattoo parlor right around the corner, and the delicious aroma of fried food. He’d missed everything about his home; America was good.. but it wasn’t the same.

“Taehyung, dude, you there?” Yoongi’s deep voice snapped him out of it. Confused, Tae blinked a couple of times before he advanced back to reality. “I said,” The eldest crossed his arms, “you guys didn’t fuck or anything in my car, right?”

The look on Taehyung’s face was one of pure horror, as if he’d just seen a ghost right through Yoongi’s narrowed eyes. Or worse, as if he’d just been told that strawberries ceased to exist anymore.

“Wha— dude, no! That’s..” He cleared his throat, sneaking an ‘oh shit, we’re fucked’ side glance at Jungkook. “That’s g-gross.”

The mint-haired male found his anguish amusing. “Tae, calm down. I was just joking, I know you guys are classier than that or whatever.” A faint laugh slipped past his lips. Taehyung’s tense shoulders gradually fell down to their natural, less strained position. “Ah, of course. I knew that, we’re extremely classy when it comes to our sex spots. The classiest.” Now it was Taehyung’s turn to be amused, and a bit relieved. Still chuckling under his breath, Yoongi mindlessly waved the boys off before disappearing into his home, clueless about the truth.. Taehyung didn’t feel that guilty.

“Shit, that was close.” He turned to look at Jungkook, breaking out into a cheeky grin from the jittery rush of it all. “Come on, let’s get out of here before he realizes.” With that being said, Tae’s hand latched onto his boyfriend’s before he led them both to their home.

"Yeah!" Jungkook chimes while he interlocks his fingers with Taehyungs, keeping their palms tightly pressed together as they head home. The familiar surroundings seemed to amaze Tae, the look in his eyes one of wonder and awe. "Welcome back home, baby." Jungkook sang out as he unlocked the familiar door, the light creak noise it made as it opened a sound they've both heard at least a million times. He held the door open for Tae, ushering him to get inside his newly deep cleaned apartment.

“Woah, Kook.. you cleaned.” Taehyung muttered as though that was a big shock. And it was, a little bit. Their apartment looked brand new, definitely less cluttered than when he left.. He let go of his luggage, stuffing his large hands into his pockets before taking a tranquil stroll around the place, indulging himself in the overly familiar sight of it all. They made a lot of memories here, and walking back into such space after a long time was revitalizing for his soul. Maybe Taehyung had grown up, but damn did he miss it. It didn’t compare to the place he’d been staying at for the last few months. With a lopsided smile, Tae turned to face Jungkook, walking towards him with outstretched arms. “Angel, first the driving and now cleaning? You’re the best.” The elder leaned in to press a quick kiss onto Kook’s puckered lips, ignoring the fact that it sounded as if they were an old, married couple.

“Hello! Welcome back!” Taehyung craned his neck to the side, seeing three dear faces peek past the open doorway. Of course.

“Taehyung-ah, you look so tan and healthy! Like freshly baked bread.” Jisoo happily exclaimed, inviting herself in to hug Tae, tiptoeing to her full potential. It was weird how much their feelings towards one another changed during the span of a few months, but it was for the best. Jisoo was his friend’s girlfriend, and his boyfriend’s close friend, Taehyung had to toughen up.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He laughed, withdrawing from her hug to shake Joon’s hand, leaning down slightly to kiss Yuna’s chubby cheek. Oh yeah, the elder wasn’t extremely afraid of babies anymore. The little girl had grown on him.

“So come on, are you fluent in English now or what?” Namjoon joked, the dimples in his cheeks sinking deeper when he leaned in for a proper hug, careful to not squish Yuna in between them.

“A little bit.” Tae responded in the little English he knew, smirking when they’d seemed impressed. The pair definitely knew how to amp up his confidence.

“Jungkookie, are you thrilled?” Jisoo grinned, playfully nudging her shoulder against his.

''I barely slept, I was too excited to pick him up.'' Jungkook's bunny-like grin grew as he reached out to pull Taehyung closer once more, hugging him from behind. He placed his chin on the elders shoulder, squeezing his arms around him. ''But worth.''

''You guys wanna do something tomorrow? Like, get dinner or something.'' Namjoon suddenly asks, he'd missed seeing the two boys together. ''We could bring the group together, they've missed this.'' He gestured over the younger boys tightly squeezed together, his dimpled smile growing as he glanced over at Jisoo; who hurriedly nodded in agreement.

''Hmm..'' Jungkook had missed out on having a good meal for a while. His hands found Taehyung's fiddling with his long fingers between his own. ''I bet you've missed korean food, I'm down to go.''

“Fuck— missed is an understatement, Kook.” Taehyung uncomfortably twisted his neck to look at his boyfriend, further flaunting his excitement with the obvious glint in his eyes.

“Language, Tae. We have virgin ears in the room.” Namjoon scolded, pointing down at a perplexed Yuna. She looked as if she’d just woken up from a nap.

“Ah, forgot.” Taehyung unlatched himself from Jungkook’s hold, extending out his arms towards the little girl in Joon’s protective hold.

“You’ve gotten heavy, Yuna.” Tae noted, “Uncle Tae will have to come by more often so I don’t miss out on too much.” He’d missed everyone; Tae wanted to catch up, figure out what’s been going on with their busy lives. How's it going with Hoseok and his longtime girlfriend; is she still saving herself for marriage?

Jin. The latter wanted to open up his own bakery shop; is that still his plan?

What happened to Jimin and that crush of his? Did he finally make a move like he’s been meaning to?

Lastly, Yoongi. Now that Taehyung thought about it.. the elder never really spoke about his ambitions.. Who knew what went on in his hyung’s head half the time. Catching up over dinner sounded like the perfect place to ask him what he’d been meaning to do after high school.

“Great! Then it’s a plan.” Jisoo smiled, clasping her hands in complete enthusiasm. Namjoon and Jisoo waved their temporary goodbyes after finalizing tomorrow's plan. Jungkook closed and locked the door behind them before turning and approaching Taehyung once more, reaching out to brush his long curls out of his eyes.

''Are you hungry? It's pretty late, but... You've only survived on airplane food for the past twelve hours.'' He shrugged. ''I don't have much, as usual, but I do have some leftover lunch boxes from Jisoo..'' He inched closer to get a good look at Tae's face, the long hours of travelling evident in the dark circles adorning his eyes. ''It's bulgogi and rice... It's de-li-cious.''

“It sounds de-li-cious,” Taehyung cutely mocked his boyfriend’s singsong voice, pulling away to stroll into the small kitchen. “I’ll heat up one plate for the both of us. I’m not too hungry.” The elder reached to pull on the fridge door’s handle, crouching down to look for the food, but instead he was faced with various bottles of alcohol. There was beer, wine, rum— a bit of everything. “Uh, baby? Why’s there so much alcohol in our fridge?” Taehyung tried to play off his mild concern with a lighthearted chuckle, mind suddenly racing back to his boyfriend’s drunken state in one of their FaceTime calls. “There’s like, nothing else to drink.” He looked up at Jungkook from his crouched position, facial expression becoming serious.

Ah. That. Shit.

''Yeah, uh...'' Jungkook stood by the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, not sure what to say to his defence. The expression on Taehyung's face said enough, he wasn't pleased at all; and with all rights, Kook knew he wasn't fond of alcohol in the same way. ''It's nothing, I just drink sometimes.'' He shrugged, hoping it would be enough. What young adult doesn't drink these days, right? ''There's probably a soda in there.'' He approached the fridge, digging through the clinking bottles to pull out a coca cola bottle made of glass, wiggling it in front of his boyfriend. He used his foot to quickly close the fridge, hoping he'd let it go.

Taehyung gently swatted the coca cola bottle away from his face, contemplating opening the fridge door once again but he simply straightened his posture, now at the same eye level with Jungkook. He’d already seen enough. “Sometimes? Kook, booze is basically all you have in there.” Tae didn’t care if his boyfriend drank. Hell, even he enjoyed the wonders of alcohol once in a while. But this fridge.. it looked an awful lot like the one back home. “Just.. promise me you’re drinking responsibly? That’s all I wanna know.” He sounded like such a dad, but Taehyung wanted nothing more than to protect Jungkook at this moment. Alcoholism was a touchy subject for him, and Tae hoped he wouldn’t get to see his boyfriend fall down the same hole he’d seen another man get sucked into in the past.

Jungkook felt the guilt welling up in his gut at the worry in Taehyung's eyes, the grip around the cola bottle tightening slightly. Truth was, he did drink more often than he probably would ever admit to, but he was not going to tell his boyfriend that. He didn't want to cause another worry, he was just going to be here for one week-- and he'd like their time together to be happy moments only. ''I promise.'' Kook clearly said, trying his best to keep his face straight. He decided he wouldn't drink at all during this-- maybe even quit completely. Couldn't be that hard, right? ''Don't worry. I'm not out of control.''

“Good.” Taehyung had no other option but to trust him; Jungkook’s never lied to him before. If his boyfriend was starting to form an unhealthy drinking habit, Kook would tell him in a heartbeat. Taehyung was confident he didn’t have anything to worry about, if the youngest promised, then he had no reason to doubt him.

“Alright, let’s eat something before heading to bed then. I’m tired.”

#fic: Love maze #taekook smut #vkook smut #sombreboy

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redstainedsocks · 4 years

Text

First Night

Another prompt for @amonthofwhump‘s escape!week, “first night”. Set immediately after First Mile to Freedom from two days ago. About to make you all real sad with some sock related content, which is only right given my nickname 😎

Warnings: box boy universe, past abuse, early stages of post-trauma, conditioning and unhealthy thought processes, pet whump, dehumanizing thoughts, disassociation, exhaustion, kneeling, scared and confused whumpee, brief mention of a head injury.

Word count: 1.4k

The house they pulled up in wasn’t anything special, not really. One level, set back from the road by a rough lawn, lit windows covered with heavy curtains.

Kit stumbled from the car, one hand clutching the back of Libby’s coat, the other holding his blanket around him like it could offer some kind of protection from what was to come. He had no idea what awaited inside, or what he’d be expected to do once he was in there.

He tugged on her clothes until she stopped, a few feet from the door. “Is this your house, you… you live here?”

“Umm, no, not usually. I live closer to campus, for, well for school, but I am going to stay here with you for a bit. If you want me to, I mean?” She turned a tentative smile to him and his nerves quietened a little.

He nodded. Having her around while he transitioned to whatever kind of ownership awaited him next sounded good, as long as it didn’t put her in harm's way. “I don’t know anyone else.”

It sounded like a secret, like some kind of hidden thing, but it was true. In all the world he really only knew three people; one he hadn’t seen in weeks since an argument, another was led away in handcuffs earlier that day, and she was the last.

“Well that’s about to change, there’s a few people here who are eager to meet you.”

His pulse skyrocketed again and he gulped. Lots of people to please sounded difficult, with too many needs to anticipate he was sure to mess up sooner rather than later. He breathed, in through his nose out through his mouth, short sharp breaths that didn’t help. He gulped and straightened his shoulders, panicking wouldn’t make this any easier. “I’ll do my best to serve them.”

“No, no, don’t think like that. Hey, Kit, easy it’s alright. I know you’re really tired and I’m sorry it’s all happening like this. But listen and please believe me, no-one here will treat you like those people in the store, none of them think pet ownership is good or should even be allowed.”

“Then… then they won’t like me?” He took a halting step backward, eyes darting between the windows of the house.

“They’re gonna love you, they’re just not going to treat you like a pet. They’ll treat you like everyone else.”

She tugged his hand and he followed, but he wasn’t in his body anymore he was floating outside it, numb and cut off from his emotions. It was safer not to feel.

When she ushered him inside it was to a busy house with more people than he knew how to handle. She walked him through a short hallway, and he saw three, then a forth, then a fifth—the driver, John, sitting at a kitchen table nursing a coffee—in mere moments. He stood in the doorway to a small lounge and every pair of eyes in the room turned on him. Two hands waved, three voices said hello, Libby caught his eyes and nodded encouragingly.

He dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor.

~ ~ ~

It was a blur of faces, of people not touching but urging him to sit up; of being handed water and a little food, and then later left in a bathroom with a washcloth—he gave the shower a wide berth—and soap. He didn’t look in the mirror, not needing a reminder of how awful he looked with the gash on his face and the memories that surfaced every time he dwelled on it.

The socks he’d been handed to wear with his clean clothes gave him pause. He didn’t think he’d ever owned a pair. It felt like luxury, soft and warm and utterly alien. He worried about slipping on the smooth floors and shuffled ungainly down the hallway toward the voices, not taking his eyes off his feet or his hand off the wall.

He was so tired he couldn’t think or see straight but he was ready and willing to serve, if they needed him to. He caught Libby’s voice, more attuned to it than the ones he didn't know.

“Not yet, let’s just… let’s not give him any more to handle tonight? I’ll tell him, it should be me.”

“He’s going to take a while to settle in, but I think we can all manage a few days of sticking with the name he knows.”

There were murmurs of assent and he stopped in his tracks. They wanted to change his name? He supposed that was just one more thing he’d have to get used to.

“Here he is,” said the same quiet, low voice he’d heard respond to Libby. There was a lilt to the accent that he liked, it didn’t sound like anything he’d experienced before.

“I’m ready sir.”

“Just Mateo, calling me Mateo is fine.”

“Oh-okay? Thank you. Umm for the socks, thank you.”

“Oh that was Alf’s idea, he thought you’d probably be without.”

He lifted his eyes and looked around for whoever this ‘Alf” was. Someone was looking at him with a bright smile and he zeroed in on it. “Thank… you? I can do, make up for it, uhh I mean, whatever you want in return I can…”

Libby came up and put her arm around him. “They don’t do that here.”

“Then how do I…?”

“You said thank you, that’s enough, that’s plenty.”

“Libby, do you want to show him where he’s sleeping?” Mateo asked. “We set up a bed in the guys room, it’s a bit cramped but it should be comfortable.”

“Sure thing, I got the couch right?”

“If you don’t mind.” Mateo nodded, and leaned against the doorframe, smiling softly.

“Not at all, probably more comfortable than my dorm room anyway.”

She turned to lead him away and he pulled back, his thoughts moved as slow as molasses but he knew he needed to understand the rules. “Wait, umm please I don’t know w-when I should be up in the morning?”

She shushed him and kept walking. “Whenever you get up is fine, you can sleep as long as you need.”

The room she led him to was large, but filled with three beds all squashed up against the walls it made it seem like a smaller space. She sat him down on a neatly made one that was pressed up against a glass door leading outside; the view through the glass was utterly black and she hastily pulled a blind down, blocking out the nightmarish rectangle of dark space.

“You can sleep here.”

He touched the soft sheets and springy mattress. “On the bed?” He felt suddenly alert, but the moment passed as exhaustion swamped any excitement or thrill of nerves.

“Yes, on the bed. I’ll be down the hall if you need me.”

“Libby I…” he paused, fumbling over his words, his fingers plucking at the sheet.

“You can say anything here, there’s no wrong words.” She settled into a crouch before him and put her hands on his knees.

“I don’t know who’s in charge. Who do I listen to?”

She smiled, a little sad around the edges where it didn’t reach her eyes. “Well… it’s Mateo’s house, but no-one is really in charge, they just all live here. Respect everyone's space and privacy and you’ll fit right in.”

“But who gives me orders? Tells me what to do?”

“For tonight, your only requirement is to sleep and rest. I don’t want to put too much on you at once, but… you, you make the rules now Kit, for yourself. We’ll help you work out what that means, we’ll help you make decisions, but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

He sat, numbed, the floaty feeling starting again, dragging him away and out where it was safe and his body could function without him. She brushed falling tears from his cheeks and he leaned into her touch, it grounded him, pushing away the sensation that wanted to carry him out of his body.

She laid him down, and let him sob. He whimpered with little breathy cries that he didn’t know why he was making. He was making a bad first impression he knew, but couldn’t stop. He was so tired, so, so tired and his head hurt, and he’d do better tomorrow he promised he would.

He must have mumbled something because she shushed him.

“Sleep, sleep is the only thing you need to do right now. Let go of everything else.”

Without knowing what else he could do, he let himself slip and deep restful sleep took hold before he could question it.

Tag list:

@haro-whumps, @theycomeinthrees, @whumpthisway, @samanddeaninpanties, @teachunks, @draganies, @pepperonyscience, @whump-it, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @untilthepainstarts, @galaxywhump, @kiretto-laorentze, @lonesome--hunter @slaintetowhump @just-a-raccoon-with-wifi

#I FORGOT that I'd written Kit clinging to the back of her coat like a lost child #and now that image HAUNTS me #escapeweek2020 #Kit's Story #rescued whumpee #escaped whumpee #trauma recovery whump #past trauma tw #past abuse tw #conditioning tw #dehumanization tw #scared whumpee #confused whumpee #box boy universe #dis@association #recovering whumpee #whumpee and caretaker

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bonnieisaway · 4 years

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A Stupidly Long Critique of Saiki K: Reawakened

A Fuckton Of Spoilers Ahead

So I went and watched the new season/continuation of Saiki K today on Netflix and.

Boy, do I have some words.

Spoilers under the cut!

Alright. So as I’ve said, today, (Dec 30th) Netflix decided to rip The Disastrous Life Of Saiki K out of Funimation’s hands and make their own continuation- Saiki K Reawakened. A 6 episode continuation and ending to our beloved show, that’s been hyped up for weeks now.

..Except, it doesn’t really feel that way.

The first episode, (Three Men, A Little Girl, A Police Officer, And A Dog) first of all struck me with this- they no longer had opening/ending theme songs. I posted about it earlier but this made me really upset. The op/ed songs are one of my favorite parts of the anime. Youth Isn’t So Cruel is a beautiful song, The Most Favorable! is hyper active and just a fun listen, Silent Prisoner is bad ass, and Put Your Hands Up always put a smile on my face, and that’s just the opening. But Netflix decided to take away the songs and it’s upsetting. I would’ve been happy even if they just re-used an old opening, because I was expecting something and it was really disappointing.

The episode itself was a bit upsetting itself. I like watch things in order, but the chapter this episode is based off of is literally like the 10th chapter of the manga. I can’t find the exact one at the moment but I remember it was early on (hence, Nendo and Kaido arguing about which one of them is Saiki’s friend and such.) Even then- I went in expecting 6 episodes about his powers reawakening, not “Here’s 5 episodes of chapters we skipped and then we’re gonna mention the powers being reawakened.”

That’s probably one of my biggest problems with Reawakened. It’s just makeup work.

I think it would’ve been better if they put these episodes either in the places they belong or in the Season 3 category under the original show. They didn’t deserve all this hype for filler.

Another thing I missed was that usually, after the ending song in every episode, there’d be a small narration by Saiki of what would come next week. Those were also super funny and I missed that. I feel like Reawakened was a bad fanfiction Netflix wrote which just killed the original work. I thought Reawakened was gonna be a bad ass, slow escalation of Saiki’s powers cranking themselves back up to what they were before the ending of Season 2. And it kind of disappointed.

That isn’t to say Reawakened didn’t have it’s few funny moments. I think the “useless powers” bit actually made me pee a bit.

But it was only of a few. Most moments felt out of character, or out of place, and the bit with the whole “teacher with a 10-year-anniversary-Jump’ was excruciating to sit through. I did like Saiki’s little smile at the end though. It felt like Saiki’s few expressions that make my heart scream ‘uwu’ were the one thing keeping me watching the show.

In Episode 3, (New Teacher with an Outstanding Feature), I personally felt like Iguchi’s existence was a dead horse they kept beating with a stick every time they called him a pervert. He just genuinely made me uncomfortable and felt like a bad forced joke.

On the contrary, Hii felt like a great addition. I think they should’ve added her in the original two seasons in the first place, where she was supposed to be. I didn’t know till the other day that she came in way earlier. She’s a lovable unlucky klutz and she produced some genuinely funny moments. (Though, that whole ‘what happened last time’ bit kinda hurt my soul.) Episode 4 was one of my favorites just because of her. It felt like she brung back what Netflix stripped away from the original anime.

Before I get to the big money maker, episode 6- I have to point out the elephant in the room.

The fucking English dub.

I figured out that I could turn it on at some point during the episode with the useless abilities so I turned it on. I had heard the trailer with Saiki’s..new VA… but I figured he’d grow on me along with the rest of the cast.

Oh my god I was so wrong.

All I heard was Kuniharu’s and Saiki’s voice and genuinely, I nearly threw up. I’ve never had such an urge to slam my head into a brick wall until I heard the voices. I can’t even say much else because I didn’t and still do not have the willpower to sit through the English dub. It’s just.. so.. bad. I can’t stand it. I know that we can’t have the original English cast back because Funimation copyright yadda yadda I get it. But good lord. I can’t stand Saiki’s voice actor. The sarcasm sounds forced, the pauses are uncomfortable, and it just..hurts. The original one felt fluent, and just organic. The English dub made me, in short, want to blow my brains out.

That aside- episode 6. Saiki Kusuo gets his motha’ fuckin powers back.

I had my hopes low when I started this episode out of fear since some of the others literally just made me want to gag myself.

But episode 6… (muwah.) A masterpiece. No anime is perfect but oh my god.

I loved how Saiki kept forgetting he couldn’t use his powers. Call it weird but the way he’s kind of a tsundere in the sense of lying to himself that he doesn’t like any of this and would be much better off without them is one of my favorite things. And it’s even better when he runs out of lies and has to face it. And even then- as his powers slowly integrate back, I about died. It was so funny, with Tortisuka holding his shoulder when he went invisible and Saiki using that as a way out of it, or hearing others thoughts and thinking of it as an auditory hallucination. I didn’t like how the thoughts sounded distant and kind of echo-ey compared to when they were easy to hear before, but that might just be me.

Also? This scene right here? Where all of his friends protect him and he’s upset because he had to be protected? I started bawling. Maybe it’s because Aunt Flo’s in town and I have an unhealthy emotional attachment to Saiki, but it just hurt so bad watching him upset like that. And on a personal level, I felt where he was coming from. I don’t cry much at movies or TV or anime but good grief, I was crying in the club.

The whole meteorite heading to destroy Japan had me in a bit of shock. I saw the cryptic advertisements hyping Reawakened but I almost forgot about them and even then a meteorite didn’t seem dire until it seemed like Saiki had no say in anything.

As the climax builds and Saiki hears his friends panic-

-also featuring the best line uttered by Akechi ever- but even as Saiko says “I need to get my friends to the bunker aswell!” (which, holy shit, I didn’t care for Saiko but that got me to tear up?) I was losing my mind. After so much disappointment and just agony from this continuation- this had to be the best scene there. It’s hard to describe. It’s just so much emotion.

And then it happens.

The ever tsundere-lying-to-himself Kusuo accepts that he’s a psychic who doesn’t mind his disastrous friends sometimes. What a way to end the anime. Call it a cliche beginning-is-the-end but I’ve never been happier to hear those Japanese words. I’ve never loved an ending so much. It emotionally hurt and was hell, but I loved it. This has been my stupidly long criticism of Reawakened!

So, tl;dr, Reawakened had it’s hard weak points but I’ll be damned if I didn’t love the ending. We love my favorite boyo, Saiki Kusuo. Also I’d die for Hii. Goodnight.

edit: recently i noticed that Saiki's eyes compared to everyone elses doesnt have detail (no pupil/shine etc) except for that epic ending scene with Saiki and I jsut- HOLY FUCK here's a gifnthat kinda shows my point- his eyes transition from normal to detailed

#Saiki kusuo #saiki k reawakened #saiki kusuo no psi nan #saiki k #critisism #i dont know how this got so long

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certifiedskywalker · 4 years

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Love Is Blind - Carol Danvers

Anonymous said: Hello there! Can I please request a carol x fem reader? “We fell asleep on the couch together on accident, how did my hand end up in your hair? Were you breathing on my neck?!” I found this lovely prompt on tumblr. So the context is they’re best friends who secretly harbor feelings towards each other. Please make it soft and fluffy and romantic. Thank you

Alright, I hope this is fluffy enough! I didn’t use the full prompt but I used it in a way that wasn’t as cheesy as that dialogue. I hope that’s okay!

“So what are you doing after this?”

You threw your head up at Carol’s question; took in the sight of her reddened cheeks and parted lips. Her blonde hair was thrown every which way. Some of it tumbled over her should, falling to the side like a sheen of golden water. Most of it was windblown up in a rat’s nest of stress and effort. When she threw the load she was carrying in the cargo bay to the side, she reached up in a vain attempt to tame the wild strands. You could not stop staring.

“Y/N?”

“What? Sorry.” You shook your head. “I spaced out.” Carol raised a suspicious brow and you felt the urge to curl into yourself, to hide your embarrassment. Had you been staring too long?

If you had, Carol didn’t let on. Instead, she smiled, wiped sweat from her brow and gave you a smile. It was one of her full, bright smiles, one that you often saw when she and Maria had invited you along to a post-flight-treat. While you had imagined cakes, you got beers and the first time Carol smiled at you with all the hope of a sunrise.

“What are you doing after this?” Carol leaned against a pile of crates and crossed her arms over her chest. The tank top she was wearing showed off the strength in her arms and made it hard for you to swallow properly. You gripped your clipboard tightly and found your voice.

“I-I don’t know,” you choked out. You turned your back on Carol to read over the label on the equipment before you. You checked off the box on your inventory and moved to the next one. As you moved you felt a warmth trailing behind you. Before you could turn around, Carol’s hand brushed past you and pulled your clipboard from your grasp. You turned to meet her eyes which held a mischievous glint within them.

“So you’re free?” You gave Carol a questioning look before nodding slowly.

“I guess.” Her smile widened and you felt your stomach twist. “Why?”

“I was going to stop by Pancho’s and wanted you to come.” You raised a brow and tore your nervous gaze away from Carol.

“The bar? I don’t know. I have to...I get up early tomorrow and it’s a long drive from there to my place so…” You could feel Carol’s frown but, when you looked up, her eyes were still hopeful.

“You could crash at mine and Maria’s. She’s out with her guy until sometime tomorrow.” You felt your gut tighten at the idea of sleeping over at Carol’s. Before your face could give away the excitement you felt you nodded at your friend. Yes, friend. Carol was your friend; only a friend and you had to get the idea of anything else out of your head.

“Okay.” Carol’s expression lifted and a wide grin spread along her features. You had never seen anything so beautiful.

“Awesome,” she threw your clipboard on top of the boxes beside her. “You wanna get your stuff and I’ll give you a ride?” You hesitated at the idea of leaving your own car in the parking lot and Carol, ever watchful, seemed to sense your worry. “I can tell Jim about your car. He’s head of security and we’re like this”

Carol crossed her fingers and made a childishly funny face. Yet, that didn’t unwrap the coils of jealous around your throat. The way Carol had made the gesture made you think she was joking. She did have a habit of getting into trouble with security. It wouldn’t have surprised you if she had struck up some sort of rapport with the head of the department, but the thought made your heart sink in your chest in a way that you could not convey.

“Alright then yeah,” you sighed, “I’ll go get my stuff.” Carol smiled and clapped her hand on your shoulder in a manner so friendly you left some part of yourself die inside.

“Meet ya out in the parking lot then!”

After you finished up your work and got what you would need from your car (a sweatshirt, brush, and a few work notebooks), you found yourself waiting. You rocked back a forth, shifting your weight back a forth on your feet as you watched for Carol. The setting sun was still hot, beating down on the pavement and your skin. You thought back to Carol tucked into her flight suit as she clambered in her plane. How hot was that?

Very, you thought with half a smile. You would have kept staring off into the sunset, thinking of Carol, if it weren’t for the sudden rev of an engine. The sound made you jump and your thoughts flee in fear. When you turned to see who was being so loud, you saw Carol: sunglasses pressed to her face and straddling a motorcycle.

The sleek, black machine drove up to you with all the smoothness of well-brew coffee. You watched her boots hit the ground when the bike came to a stop. It almost happened in slow-motion: she took off her sunglasses in a fluid motion, revealing her soft brown eyes to you like unwrapping a gift. She smiled widely when she met your gaze.

“Like it?” You let your eyes dance along Carol’s face as she asked the question. It could be answered with a simple ‘yes’ but you found yourself speechless.

“Y/N?”

“Y-Yeah, it’s…” You trailed off and Carol let out a breathy laugh.

“You nervous?” You tore your eyes from Carol’s legs and met her gaze once more. You swallowed hard and nodded. You were nervous, but about what, you were sure that it wasn’t the motorcycle.

“Yeah, a bit.” Carol shook her head and scoot up to make room for you on the bike.

“It’s all good. Just put your stuff in there,” she jabbed her thumb towards the back of the motorcycle. “And there should be an extra helmet in there for you too.”

You followed her directions and tucked your bag in a small chest attached to the back of the bike. Knowing that you wouldn’t lose your stuff barely eased the nausea in your stomach. You donned the helmet and turned back to Carol. She let out a laugh and gave you a thumbs up.

“You look great,” she teased and you felt your cheeks burn beneath the helmet. “Now, come here.”

She patted the back of the seat and you gave her a questioning look before carefully straddling the bike. The padding beneath you was surprisingly comfortable. For a moment, you thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Then you caught a sniff was Carol’s body wash and the sharp scent of fuel and felt light-headed. It didn’t help when Carol gave you more instructions.

“Now put your arms around my waist.”

“What?”

“I mean, you don’t have to. That is, if you want to ride the road on your ass but-”

“Okay, okay,” you sighed and wrapped your arms around Carol’s midsection. A flood of warmth and giddiness ran through and over your body. You were so close to her. You had hugged Carol before but this, this was different. You were clinging to her.

For dear life, or so it seemed, as Carol drove away from the air hangar in a burst of speed. Your arms tightened and you feared that you might be squeezing her too tight. But when Carol didn’t flinch or protest, you let yourself relax. Your chest rested against Carol’s back and, despite the street racing below you, you felt safe. So safe and so...cared for? Maybe, either way, you let your head fall to rest between Carol’s shoulders and watched the landscape whirl past your vision.

Soon enough, the sign of Pancho’s Bar entered your sights and you felt Carol slow the bike. The gravel of the parking lot groaned and cracked under the wheels as she searched for a parking space. When she turned to engine off you felt your heart ache with bittersweet pain. You were alive, in one piece and holding Carol; but now you had to let go.

Your arms fell to your sides, slipping from Carol’s waist painfully as she spoke up. “So, what did ya think? Fun right?”

“Yeah, actually,” you replied as you freed your face from the heat of the helmet. “Thanks.”

“No need to thank me, Y/N,” Carol waved a hand dismissively. “I wanted to. I wanted you to come.” You nodded before biting the inside of your cheek. Carol only wanted you here because Maria was out of town. Otherwise, you would be a third, unneeded wheel to their friendship.

You watched silently as Carol hopped off the bike and straightened her jacket. Some of her hair, which she had put into a loose ponytail had slipped out. A few of the blonde strands framed her face, making her rosy, wind-kissed cheeks appear redder.

“You ready?”

“Huh?” You asked, shaking your head to clear it. “Yeah, I am.” Carol raised a brow, but smiled nonetheless. She plucked the helmet from your hands and placed it on the bike.

“Seems like you could use a drink, yeah?” You met her eyes before you felt her hand grabbing at yours. Your eyes traced the way her fingers joined with yours and you felt your breath catch.

“Yeah, I could.” Carol smiled over her shoulder at your reply before pulling you into the bar.

You don’t often drink, at least not a lot. If you do, it’s because you’re nervous or stressed. It’s not a good coping mechanism, you know that, it’s unhealthy; but when you’re at a bar with Carol, you’re bombarded by emotions that need to be dulled. You’re tormented by desire to hold her, to dance with her during a slow song and not care about anything else.

In those moments, you remind yourself that you could lose your job if someone got the wrong idea. Even if the ‘wrong idea’ was what you wanted. You wanted Carol; you wanted to be more than friends, but that just wasn’t possible. Not now, at least.

So you drank. You drank a lot, enough to grow fuzzy and only remember Carol’s face bathed in the colorful lights of the video arcade and neon signs. When you woke, you were warm and your head was pounding. You had felt the dull, pulsing pain of a hangover before but something was different about this one. When you turned your head, you felt a strange sense of relief. Physical relief. Like a hand rubbing at your scalp, soothing the ache in your skull as your breath found a haven in the crook of her neck.

Carefully, you craned your neck and tried to figure out the source of the sensation When you did, you felt your mouth fall open in a silent gasp. Carol was laid out on the couch, sleep balancing delicately on her features as she slept...below you. You had fallen asleep on her chest and her hand was in your hair. Everytime you moved a little, her fingers would brush against your scalp.

All of your movement seemed to wake Carol as her eyes opened slowly. “You’re awake.”

“I-I am, I’m sorry about this. I just-”

“It’s okay, Y/N. You got a little drunk.” You let out a nervous, breathy laugh as you sat up. Your legs brushed against Carol’s and you felt like your whole being was on fire.

“I guess, yeah,” you mumbled as you tried to move away. “I don’t….”

“I didn’t drink really,” Carol began, “so I drove home. It was a hassle getting you on the bike. I thought about tying you to me. I almost did.” She was smiling as she filled in the gaps of your memory, but you were aflame with embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry,” you said again, but Carol continued.

“When we got back you wanted me to stay with you. You were fairly convincing and I guess we fell asleep together on accident.” You held your head in your hands and signed heavily.

“I didn’t do anything else did I?”

“We danced,” Carol added, “you were cute, dancing by yourself at first.” You met her eyes and saw there was only sincerity in them. Images of Carol, smiling as brightly as the sun from across the dance floor at Pancho’s flashed in your mind. You smiled at the sight, wished that you could remember it better in all of it’s trueness.

“When we got home you told me something.”

“W-What did I say?” You choked out. Worry churned in your gut and you felt like you might vomit. Carol let her head fall to the side as she stared at you softly.

“It wasn’t really what you said, it was what you asked. You asked if I loved you.”

“Oh, Carol, I didn-”

“I do.” You met her gaze against and waited with baited breath. “I wanted to wait to tell you so you would remember my answer. Was that what you were expecting my answer to be?”

“No, I,” you shook your head. Your heart was pounding in your chest, so hard that you were surprised Carol did mention that she could hear it.

“I know that it's ...different and we’re friends. And...well..with work, the government, but I wanted to tell you. Your question was the perfect time I guess.” Carol explained as she sat up against the arm of the couch.

“I…” Silence overwhelmed you right beside the wave of shock. Your gaze fell to Carol’s hand which rested in her lap, as you gathered your thoughts.

“Sorry, if I made you uncomfortable,” Carol began to say quickly, “I just thought that maybe...it felt like you might too.” You looked up to her, met her gaze and tried to find the right words. “Y/N?”

“I do,” you said softly. Carol’s serious expression melted away into a smile. It wasn’t the one that was as bright as the sun. It was tender, as gentle as a rolling cloud during a pink sunrise. A smile just for you. Before you could say anything else, Carol leaned towards you. Her hand lifted from her lap to your cheek and pulled your lips to hers.

She tasted like mint and smelled like smoke and engine fuel. She tasted like coming home, like a truth that you had tried to ignore for too long. She tasted like love, a love that you had never had the courage to show until now. You wanted to savor that forever.

Carol’s hands cupped your face and coaxed your closer. Instinctively, you moved into her lap and let yours hands bury themselves in her hair. Now that you had a flavor of what this could be, you never wanted to come up for air; but eventually, you had to.

Carol pulled away from your lips, but just barely. Her forehead rested against yours and you sank back into the warmth her body offered.

“I hope you didn’t drool on me,” Carol teased breathlessly. You laughed, pulling your head away from hers and shook your head.

“Just breathed on your neck a little.” Carol grinned and you swear if you stared too long, you might go blind. Yet, it would be worth it, if it meant you were with Carol.

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