#ppl have already said this but it knocks me out that in these final moments
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I'm alive because they made me alive. It's the connections that I made with all of them, and it's a feeling of joy. I'm happy to do this.
(insp. via @igotublue)
#critical role#criticalroleedit#fresh cut grass#sam riegel#imogen temult#laura bailey#gifs#*#*cr#*parallel#cr3#cr spoilers#r: imogearne#otohan thull#angst tag#scheduled#3h39m c3e33#4h29m c3e91#4h38m c3e91#*liam voice* I'M REALLY SAD#ppl have already said this but it knocks me out that in these final moments#sam rly drove home the fact that fcg was doing it out of love. not obligation or duty or purpose or curiosity#in that moment they understood that being alive is to love. and they have been roaringly alive from the beginning#faithful caregiver. *cries for a million years*
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arms
Sirius Black x reader
Song; arms by Christina Perri
Words; 2019
Warnings; Sirius :)
I may have went a little overboard with the wedding but oh well
Please send in some requests (for ppl who have already requested I'm working on them !!)
I never thought that you'd be the one to hold my heart
But you came around and you knocked me off the ground from the start
It was no secret to anyone in Hogwarts that Sirius Black hated Slytherins. He had vowed to himself to never interact with one if not in the circumstance of an argument or prank. He’d honestly say he hated Slytherins more than he loved his best friends, and he would never ever, ever change his mind that they were evil.
Imagine the boy's surprise when he looked up from his food and his eyes momentarily caught sight of the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Her hair fell perfectly around her face as her eyes shined. She had the most beautiful smile and the cutest nose that scrunched up as she laughed with her friends. Everything about the girl put him in a trance, that was until his world was shook as he saw the color of her tie. How could something so beautiful be associated with something so ugly?
You put your arms around me
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go
You put your arms around me and I'm home
Sirius’ body instantly relaxed as a familiar pair of arms wrapped around his torso. Y/n softly kissed in between his shoulder blades and sighed as she relished in his warmth. He dropped the letter he had received from his parents and put his hands upon hers, squeezing gently.
“Hello there, Siri.” Y/n greeted, her voice muffled by Sirius’ jumper.
He laughed softly, “Hello, love. What’s up?”
Sirius felt her shoulders move up in a shrug, “Missed you, is all.” She mumbled and his heart warmed. The sorting hat had to have made a mistake because this girl was no Slytherin, she was an angel sent from the heavens.
How many times will you let me change my mind and turn around
“I’m sorry, Y/n/n. I just can’t do this.” Sirius said with tears in his eyes. He watched as the love of his life wiped her own tears off her cheeks and gave him a broken smile.
“Come back to me when you’re ready, yeah?”
Sirius shook his head, “It’s not like that this time. I’m not coming back.”
“You say that every time.”
I can't decide if I'll let you save my life or if I'll drown
Sirius clutched the chest of his jumped tightly, gritting his teeth in an attempt to keep his sobs silent. His heart felt as it was being choked as the lump in his throat grew. The cool air of the night brushed its fingers through Sirius’ hair and he looked to the sky with blurry eyes, resisting the urge to just scream until his lungs gave out.
Trapped in his own bubble, he missed the sound of footsteps walking up the stairs of the astronomy tower. He missed the door opening and the loud thud of an old, hardcover book hitting the ground. All he knew was the moment familiar arms wrapped around his shoulders he broke and he finally let the sobs leave his throat.
I hope that you see right through my walls
I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Y/n quietly asked her boyfriend as he silently watched his friends play chess by the fire.
He turned his head with a small smile, “Whatever do you mean, beautiful?”
Y/n sighed and grabbed his hand, “You play with your necklace when you’re stressed out. You’ve been fiddling with it all day, Siri.”
Sirius’ smile fell and his head dropped, “It just sucks.”
Y/n gently wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into her chest. “What sucks, my love?”
Sirius let out a dramatic sigh, “Everything. My parents. Sch- wait, how are you in here?” He asked abruptly, sitting up to look his girlfriend in the face.
She smirked, “I have my ways.”
I'll never let a love get so close
You put your arms around me and I'm home
“What’s so special about her, Pads? You’ve never let a girl do this to you.” James asked Sirius as they cleaned up after Quidditch practice.
Sirius smiled as he got a familiar glint in his eyes, “She’s my Lily, Prongs. She’s my everything.”
James laughed and shook his head, sighing to himself, “Never thought I’d see my best friend genuinely be in love with a girl. I’m happy for you, mate.”
The world is coming down on me and I can't find a reason to be loved
I never wanna leave you but I can't make you bleed if I'm alone
“Sirius, you need to stop!” Y/n yelled, the rain soaking her hair, she couldn’t tell what was raindrops and what was her own tears.
“No! No, I won’t! I’m done, this isn’t working!” He sobbed, stumbling back.
“Sirius, goddamnit, I love you! I fucking love you!”
He shook his head bitterly, “No, no you don’t. The two people who are supposed to love me unconditionally kicked me out for fucks sake! No one fucking loves me, Y/n! No one!”
“I do!” She reasoned. “I do. I love you and I get it. I get why you don’t think anyone can love you but I do, Siri. Please.”
You put your arms around me
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go
Sirius fell to his knees, his body shaking, he could barely hear her over the rain and blood rushing to his head. She knelt in front of him and wrapped her arms around his body, holding on impossibly tight.
“I need you to, please, just let me love you. I need you to- Fuck, Sirius, I need you.” She begged and he threw his arms around her as well.
“Don’t let me go, please.” Sirius whispered in Y/n’s ear.
She nodded, “I won’t. Never.”
I hope that you see right through my walls
I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling
Y/n froze as she felt Sirius tense beside her and she looked up. Her face dropped as she saw his mother angrily storming towards them.
“Come on, we must go. I’d like to go back to the castle and cuddle for a while.” She said and pulled him out of the shop and into the busy streets.
“Sirius!” They heard faintly and the man flinched.
“No, it’s okay. Come on, let’s hurry. We can stop by the kitchens and the elves like me so they’ll probably make us something if we ask nicely, yeah?” Y/n asked gently, trying to distract him and they hurried up the path.
Sirius nodded with a small smile, “Yeah. Thank you.”
“Whatever for?”
Sirius furrowed his brows, “Taking me away from my mom?”
Y/n laughed, “You’re mom? Where? Have you hit your head, Sirius?” She asked with a teasing smile.
I'll never let a love get so close
You put your arms around me and I'm home
“I’m so lucky to have you.” Sirius whispered late at night. The soft snores from James and the quiet breathing from the rest of the Marauders being the only sounds in the room.
“Yeah?” Y/n asked, smiling.
“Yeah.”
“I love you too, Sirius.”
I tried my best to never let you in to see the truth
And I've never opened up
I've never truly loved
“I’ve never, like- I’ve never-” Sirius groaned angrily, not being able to find the words.
Y/n crossed her arms, “Never what, Sirius?”
He sighed, “I’ve never done this before. And I really don’t want you to be frustrated with me because I’m trying but I don’t- I don’t know how.” He confessed and the girls face softened.
“Oh, Sirius.” She pulled him into a gentle hug. “I’m so sorry for getting angry. It’s okay that you don’t know what to do. Truthfully, I don’t either. But we’ll figure it out, okay? Together.”
Sirius nodded, finding comfort in her hugs, “Together.”
'Till you put your arms around me
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go
“Are you sure you want to be with me?” Sirius asked randomly.
Y/n smiled at her boyfriend, “Never been more sure of anything in my life. Except for maybe Potter being a dimwit, but you know what I mean.”
“What if I hurt you?”
“I’ll put a bandaid on. Easy peasy.”
I hope that you see right through my walls
I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling
I'll never let a love get so close
“Marriage is a joyous occasion. It is connected in our thoughts with the charm of love, the warmth of home, and with all that is pleasant, as being one of the most important events of our lives. Its sacredness and unity is the most significant and binding covenant known in human relations. Sirius and Y/n, let me charge you both to remember that your future happiness is to be in mutual consideration, patience, kindness, confidence, and affection. It is the duty of each of you to find your greatest joy in the company of the other; to remember that your love pledged today must remain undivided for a lifetime.” The priest recited with a smile on his face.
Sirius smiled at his soon to be wife, a single tear slipping down his cheek. Y/n gently wiped it from his face and brought her hand back to her side with a wide smile, tears filling her own eyes.
“It is your duty, Sirius, to be to Y/n, a considerate, tender, faithful, and loving husband: to support, guide and cherish her in prosperity and trouble; to thoughtfully and carefully enlarge the place she holds in your life; to constantly show to her the tokens of your affection, to shelter her from danger, and to love her with an unchangeable love.” Sirius nodded, dedicated to fulfilling everything he just said.
“It is your duty, Y/n, to be to Sirius, a considerate, tender, faithful, and loving wife; to comfort, guide and cherish him in prosperity and trouble; to give to him the unfailing pieces of evidence of your affection; and to continue making the place he holds in your heart, broader and deeper; to support him, value him and work with him to make your marriage the very best that it can be.”
You put your arms around me and I'm home
“If you are ready to assume the obligations and duties before God, as I have defined them, you will unite your hands and pledge your love and your lives to each other.” Sirius grabbed onto Y/n’s hands, rubbing small and soothing circled onto her soft skin. The priest looked at Sirius, “Groom, repeat after me. I, Sirius, take you, Y/n, to be my lawfully wedded wife.”
“I, Sirius, take you, Y/n, to be my lawfully wedded wife.”
“To have and to hold, from this day forward.”
“To have and to hold, from this day forward.”
“For better, for worse.”
“For better, for worse.”
“For richer, for poorer.”
“For richer, for poorer.”
“In sickness and in health.”
“In sickness and in health.”
“To love and to cherish.”
“To love and to cherish.”
“For as long as we may live.”
“For as long as we may live.”
“This is my solemn vow.”
“This is my solemn vow.”
The priest smiled, “Very good. Now bride, please repeat after me.” The two went through the same speech, having to stop a few times as Y/n’s voice cracked. “Sirius, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Sirius nodded, “I do.”
“Y/n, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“Of course, I do.”
The priest nodded, “Groom, you may kiss the bride.”
Sirius immediately brought their lips together as everyone cheered. Y/n wrapped her arms around Sirius’ neck, never feeling happiness quite like this.
You put your arms around me and I'm home
Taglist (if you'd like to be added comment :))
@loving-and-dreaming @1lellykins
#aanoia#romance#marauders era#remus lupin#the marauders#james & peter & remus & sirius#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius being sirius#harry potter#peter pettigrew#Spotify
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let down your hair ; pjs
part of the happily never after collab hosted by @soobisms and @karsohn ! happy halloween !!
pairing: flynn rider!jisung x fem!rapunzel!reader
genre: rapunzel!au, dark-ish!au, y/n is highkey evil but has her reasons, jisung may or may not be evil but he's also pretty in love, honestly more fluffy than i'd intended
warnings: swords, dark magic, princesses kidnapped and kept in towers, reader and jisung kill lots of ppl together
wc: 2.4k+
a/n: the pitch perfect version of toxic by britney spears was on my playlist for this fic, do what you will with that information + this isnt proofread sorry for mistakes and stuff
i. when will my life begin?
When Y/N was 10 she found out who Mother really was. She really shouldn’t have been in Mother’s room while she was out. She shouldn’t have been a curious little nuisance like Mother said she was. She shouldn’t have opened the box of books. She shouldn’t have looked at the books. Or what Mother had written in the columns. But she did.
That was how it began. That was when the girl stuck in the tower found out she was the lost princess and the lost princess decided she had to save herself. She spent years figuring out how to use the magic in her hair against Mother Gothel. For 8 years, every day when Gothel left the tower for..work (or whatever she was really doing when she told Y/N she was working) - Y/N would get the books out and practice. She spent nearly a decade memorising incantations, making her hair glow, not gold like it did when she healed people, but dark purple. Healing wasn’t going to get her out of the tower, but dark magic would.
She’s finally learnt it all. She’s prepared for this moment. Nearly half her life had been preparation for this day - her 18th birthday - the day Mother Gothel would die. Or so she had planned. Until a hand clutched the edge of the window - the only way to leave or enter the tower. Mother Gothel had already left. From all she had told the girl, the tower was well hidden from the outside world. Out of fright Y/N grabbed the object closest to her - a frying pan.
With a loud groan an individual pulled himself up into the tower. Y/N, hiding near the window, smacked him with the pan she held. After he was knocked out she inspected the boy. He looked about the same age as her, except he was incredibly tall.
Whispering to herself she said, “Huh. He has pretty lips- What am I doing?” Y/N sighed, tearing her eyes away from the boy.
She looked at the satchel he wore instead. Carefully opening it while trying not to wake him, she saw a tiara. She pulled it out and facing a mirror, tried it on.
The boy began to stir suddenly and Y/N panicked and tossed the tiara and the satchel in a cupboard. Before he could gain full consciousness she grabbed his hands and tied them together using her hair, then did the same for his legs. The boy, still lying on the ground, opened his eyes to Y/N standing directly above him and glaring. He screamed, causing her to scream back.
“Who are you?!?”
“Who am I? Who are you? You’re in my house!” Then, straightening herself up and dragging him to sit against the wall she continued, “And I’m not scared of you.”
“What is this- hair? Yeah you don’t have to be scared of me, just untie me.”
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
“In my defence I asked first but you know what, I’ll oblige. I’m Park Jisung,” He replied with a smirk, “How’s your day going gorgeous?”
Y/N groaned, was he seriously trying to flirt with her? “My name is Y/N. Why did you climb into my home Park Jisung?”
“Here's the thing. I was in a situation, Gallivanting through the forest. I came across your tower and...Ho, ho no, where is my satchel?”
“I've hidden it, somewhere you'll never find it.”
“It’s in the cupboard isn’t it.”
“Why would it be in the cupboard?”
“It feels kinda obvious.”
“We are diverting from the point. What do you want? My hair? You want to cut it? Sell it?”
“No! Listen, the only thing I want to do with your hair, is to get out of it. Literally!”
Y/N backed away from Jisung. “Wait, what?”
“Why on earth would I want your hair? Look, I was being chased, I saw a tower, I climbed it, end of story.”
Y/N let out a quiet “Oh.”
Then she had an idea. He did climb in her home uninvited. Maybe he should pay. Maybe he could be her direct ticket out. She agreed to untie him, and eventually give him back the tiara (that part of the deal may have been a little bit subjective), as long as he took her to see the lights. The floating lanterns that she saw from her window on her birthday every year. She knew they were for her - the princess - but she wouldn’t be telling him that. Not when the tiara he had seemed to compliment her hair colour a little too perfectly.
When he finally agreed after 15 whole minutes of negotiation that involved a lot of constricted movement and whining on his part and the waving of a frying pan on her part, Y/N united her hair and he jumped to his feet.
Jisung let out a sigh of disbelief and muttered something she probably didn’t want to hear. They both used her hair to get out of the tower and made their way to the more populated parts of the kingdom.
“Okay let’s go! Where’s my satchel?”
Dragging said satchel out of the cupboard and swinging it across her body, Y/N replied, “I’ll be holding onto it until you uphold my end of the deal.”
Y/N now recounted her plan in her head. Mother Gothel had gone to get her oil paints she’d asked for. Now she just had to play dumb until after they’d seen the lanterns and she’d be able to slip away to find Mother Gothel with the map she’d stolen from her room earlier. She continued following Jisung until they reached a pub, the snuggly duckling.
“Oh look Park! It’s named after you!”
“Oh how very funny. I am simply bursting with laughter,” Jisung deadpanned. “You want something to drink?”
ii. flower gleam and glow
Y/N thought for a moment. She needed him to trust her, maybe this would help.
“Sure.”
Big mistake. Very big mistake. The pub, contrary to its inviting name, was filled with very uninviting people - well at least uninviting towards Jisung. Nearly everyone there was a criminal of sorts, and nearly everyone also happened to know Jisung. They did not like him (and that would be an understatement).
Jeno and Jaemin - the muscular guys that were the most intimidating people Y/N had seen in her life and also happened to have some of the best smiles she’d ever seen - were a duo that had once agreed to work with Jisung and been double crossed by him (although they got their revenge ages ago, they were still a little bitter). Then there was Chenle, who’d learnt how to steal alongside Jisung as a kid but had been abandoned by his partner in crime when Jisung found bigger money-making solo jobs to do. There were many others as well, all of whom seemed to adore Y/N, and as they narrated their stories to her, their histories and their dreams, Jisung sat in a corner frowning. She laughed and made her way over to him.
“What? You don’t have a story? A dream?”
Jisung sat up and said, “I want to be a king. Or just really rich. I think being a king would be too much pressure. I just want the money.”
“Ah. A man of great virtue, I see.”
Doing a tiny fake bow he replied, “Of course, and you should expect nothing less.”
Suddenly, pulling them away from the moment they were having, they heard a shout. Looking out the window, Jeno exclaimed, “The Royal Guard! Park, hide! You’re wanted! Y/N you better hide with him.”
Mark, the bartender pulled one of the levers and hurried the 2 of them under the counter into a secret passage.
“It leads outside, they won’t find you there.”
After hurriedly thanking the blue-haired man, Jisung grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her down the passage with him. They walked for what felt like nearly half an hour to Y/N (and her exhausted legs), until they saw daylight at the end of the tunnel. They reached a clearing and Y/N settled herself there on some logs lying around. He had long let go of her hand, but it still felt strange where he had held her. She still felt the warmth of his palm. She didn’t know if she liked the feeling or hated it, but either way she still didn’t trust him.
Jisung turned so his back was facing her as he dusted his clothes off and said, “You’re a pretty bad actress, you know.”
“What?” she replied, startled.
He turned back to face her, “I can tell you have a plan of some sort. It’s obvious everytime you switch moods to act dumb in front of me. I don’t mind it, but if your plan happens to include not giving back my satchel or the tiara inside it, I’d rather know now.”
Y/N smirked, “I have no idea what you could possibly mean.”
Jisung pulled a knife from the inside of his jacket, “Oh yeah? Well maybe this will help you understand gorgeous.”
She gasped as she backed away. Ripping the satchel off her body she threw down in the space between them, “Fine! You can have it.”
Pleased, he picked up the satchel and opened it to check the contents were all there. While he looked away, Y/N began combing her hair with her fingers.
“You should know though, it does belong to me.”
By the time Jisung looked up it was too late, her hair was already glowing purple, her lips mouthing an incantation. She put her hands out and fired purple flames at a spot on the ground near his feet as she walked closer to him. Jisung panicked and pulled the knife back out but she just melted it. He stumbled to the ground as she stepped forward once again. Finally he held the satchel out to her.
Her powers calming down she grabbed it and draped it over her body once again.
“You-you’re the princess. The lost princess.”
“Indeed I am.”
“Okay. Princess. I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement.”
“What kind?”
“Well, you clearly have a plan, something you need to do. What is it?”
“I need to kill my mother.”
“The queen?!”
“No! The woman that kidnapped me and kept me in a tower for 18 years! Idiot.”
“That wasn’t obvious when you said your mother! Anyway, I help you get to your ‘mother’ so you can kill her, and you give me the tiara in return? Or money. I take cash as well.”
Y/N thought about it. In fact she thought for so long Jisung started getting tired of waiting for an answer. Honestly, she’d already made up her mind. She just wanted to agonise him more. She didn’t have to trust him as long as they both kept up their ends of the deal. They both had their motives. She cared far less about being princess than she did about
“Okay.”
Jisung jumped to his feet, “Okay then! Let’s be on our way! Where’s your evil mother?”
As they walked to the location Y/N described to him, she explained her plan to him, and how she’d trained herself to use her power over time. Jisung was in awe of her - the girl that had spent her whole life locked in a tower and taught herself to save herself. He wasn’t going to lie about being attracted to her. He could tell she was just as conniving as he was, just a lot smarter when she made her plans. Her acting could still use work though. He could help her with that, he thought to himself, before realising he was thinking about someone who, as far as he knew, very well planned to never see him again after he held up his end of the deal.
“You don’t care about being princess do you?”
“Does a princess use her powers to kill people?”
“I wouldn’t think so. Then again, you’re the first princess I’ve met. I think the cool princesses would kill people anyway.”
iii. let your power shine
They were ambushed. Mother Gothel was working with the twins Jisung had been running from and they’d called for the Royal Guard. Gothel somehow found out she was working with Jisung, and Y/N’s blood was boiling. Not just that - her hair was glowing darker than it ever had. Gothel’s shock when she began the incantation made the 8 years of waiting truly worth it, and before she could lift a finger, Y/N was firing curses at her while Jisung fought the twins. The witch was helpless against the determination Y/N had bottled up all those years.
“You took my real life away from me, mother. Now you will pay.”
“Y/N, my beautiful child, how could you do this? All I ever did was care for you.”
“Care for me? You used me!” Y/N began the spell she’d worked the hardest on, the one that would kill Gothel for good as she said, “And for the last time - You’re. Not. My. Mom.”
One minute Mother Gothel was crouched on the ground in front of her, the next she was ashes. Y/N turned to see Jisung staring at her, not with fear, but with awe, and maybe even pride. He’d knocked the twins out a while ago but they knew they weren’t done yet. They could hear the Royal Guard’s horses not far off. Using an easier incantation she’d learnt she conjured a sword for Jisung and tossed it to him.
They fought their way through the Royal Guard with ease. They were a team now. They’d both realised that. The guards kept coming, but they fought their way up to the centre of the city, to the front of the castle. As the last of the guards dropped to the ground, she heard Jisung’s sword clatter and watched him walk over the bodies to her. He cupped her face in his hands and before she could let out a word he pulled her in and their lips met. The kiss was everything. Everything they had done together. All the bodies that they’d made fall together. The power they both knew they had ignited that kiss. It was fiery and powerful and they kissed until neither one could breathe.
When they finally broke apart, his hands in her hair and both their chests heaving, trying to catch their breath - they smiled at each other.
“I think we could rule this kingdom together princess.”
“I think so too, Park.”
#park jisung#nct dream#nct dream x reader#nct x reader#nct fanfic#jisung x reader#park jisung x reader#park jisung fic#renjun#jaemin#mark lee#jeno#haechan#chenle#nct fluff#collab
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Choking mention cw
Unrelated but one time in elementary school a girl literally did try to choke me, which was just so wild and unbelievable to have happened that it's the fucked up kind of funny to me? Like baffling laughter bc we were like, 11.
Storytime (don't worry I was fine)
Like she did tackle and knock me to the ground, and she got her hands around my throat to choke me while she was on top of me, but the thing is, she did this in front of both of our mothers who were talking to each other.
So while an 11-12 year old girl did attempt to throttle me, our moms also bodily peeled her off within like, a second of hearing me hitting the ground. Because she decided to attack me not only in front of her own mother? But also in front of MY own mother? Like she didn't have the ability to comprehend how dumb that was I guess.
at this point I had already stopped actively trying to be her friend because
a) she tried to prevent me from hanging out with literally anyone but her and even tried to manipulate teachers and even the principal into forcing me to spend all my time with her and always doing whatever she wanted. and unfortunately she leveraged the fact that the adults knew about her mental illnesses in order to claim exclusionary bullying when in reality it would be like, I said I didn't want to do x that day, but said she could come do y with me and other kids. She literally was lying, manipulating, and trying to isolate & control me as her friend, and it's like dude we're in the 5th grade.
And
b) she had been a terror and rude to my oldest friend's nice mom at a party we were both invited to, and I could not abide ppl being rude to other people's mom's and too many kids were there to not know about it.
But in that exact moment I hadn't actively provoked her or said anything mean. I wasn't even talking to her, it was just spontaneous bloodlust lmfao. This was the FINAL NAIL in the coffin of our friendship.
and that is how I made my first mortal enemy
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Part 4 of incorrect quotes because i feel obligated to make more due to the sheer number of people who liked it
Dream: My dearest beloved fuckos, is a fun, gender-neutral way to begin a speech
George: See also, esteemed bastards
Bad: Gentlefolk, Ferals, and Domesticated cryptids.
Sapnap: My fellow yees and haws
~~~~~~~
Techno:Hey I know skyrim is revered as a classic but are we just going to ignore the fact that the entire game only had like 3 voice actors
Wilbur:Stop right there criminal cum
Techno:My ancestors are smiling at me, bastard, can you say the same
~~~~~~~
Foolish:When's your bedtime :)
Purpled: Whenever I next collapse in purely up to the gods
~~~~~~
Ranboo:Human skin is a fursuit for skeletons
Tubbo: i’m going to debone you like a fucking trout
~~~~~~
Bad:You’re enough
Bad: love yourself!!!!!!! or suffer my wrath!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dream:And by wrath I mean love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Bad:no I mean wrath!!!!! You reading this, if you don't love yourself I’ll beat you with a stick!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
~~~~~~~
Bad:I hope everyone is today well! And tomorrow!!!! After that you’re on your own.
~~~~~~
Bad:what am I supposed to do all day while you’re at work
Skeppy:I don’t know, what do you normally do while I’m gone
Bad: wait for you to get back
~~~~~~
Velvet:For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5am on the day I can sleep in
Ant:Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.
Velvet:Early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch
~~~~~~
Tubbo: 3:23 AM make a wish
Ranboo: I wish that you would go to sleep
Tuddo: Yeah well I wish I grew an inch taller every day as you get an inch shorter until you’re as flat as as a piece of paper and I’m 11 feet tall
Ranboo: You’re going to die of a mixture of skeletal instability and heart disease.
Tubbo: Yeah but I’ll look good while doing it.
~~~~~~
Bad:Disrespect me again and I’ll determine your bodies resonant frequency and play a jaunty horn solo that boils your miserable organs inside out
~~~~~~
Quackity: If I were dating you? Well, heh. Let’s just say horses wouldn't be called horses anymore
Karl: hey what the honk does this mean…..I’m shaking what does this mean!
~~~~~~
Skeppy: Are you ok?
Bad wrapped in a burrito blanket drinking his 6th cup of coffee: Yes, this is exactly what mental stability looks like
~~~~~~
Sam: My hands are cold
Ponk: *holds their hands*
Ponk: better?
Sam: My lips are cold too
~~~~~~
George at dream’s funeral: can I have a moment alone with them?
Sapnap: of course *leaves*
George leaning over dream’s casket: Now listen, I know you’re not dead.
Dream: yeah no shit
~~~~~~
Skeppy, jokingly: I should have Bad kill you for that.
Bad, peering around the corner: Who do I need to kill?
Skeppy: Wh- no, I was just kidding around.
Bad, pulling out a switchblade: No, who’s bothering you
~~~~~~
Bad *watching the news*: Some idiot tried to fight a squid at the aquarium.
Skeppy *covered in ink*: Maybe the squirt was being a dick.
~~~~~~
Peacock: *spreads feathers at Bad*
Skeppy: It’s trying to attract a mate
Bad, extremely confused: *shyly lifts top*
Skeppy: No!
~~~~~~
Sapnap: Karl, do you eat olives? My dad wants to know
Karl: No, I hate olives. Olives are the spawn of satan. I hate olives so much my mom forced me to live in Mount olive for the rest of my childhood as a curse from the olive gods. Do you understand how much olives have ruined my life? I'm so offended that you asked me that have some consideration for people who have been abused by olives please!
Sapnap: K A R L ……….they’re just olives!!?
Karl: JUST OLIVES EXCUSE!
~~~~~~
Tommy: If you’re bored you can simply close your eyes and rotate a cow in your mind. It’s free and the cops can’t stop you
~~~~~~
Wilbur: is there anyone even named sheldon irl?
Tubbo: my class turtle from 6th grade :)
Wilbur: that’s a turtle
Tubbo: When god sings with his creations, will a turtle not be part of the choir?
~~~~~~
Ranboo: No bcuz why do ppl like salad?? What’s so good about it
Tubbo: chew leaf like god intended
Ranboo: No
Tubbo: Abandon god and see what he does next time you lift your hands in prayer
~~~~~~~
Tommy: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly.
Wilbur, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.
~~~~~~
Quackity: So according to the cease and desist order I got, apparently you can’t ‘legally’ be a lawyer if your license is ‘cut out of a cereal box’.
~~~~~~
Puffy: If you had too, what would you give up food or sex?
Bad: Sex.
Skeppy: Seriously, answer faster.
Bad: I’m sorry honey, when they said sex I wasn’t thinking about sex with you.
Skeppy: It’s like a giant hug.
Puffy: Ant, what about you? What would you give up sex or food?
Ant: Food.
Puffy: Okay, how about sex or dinosaurs?
Ant: ……...Oh my God it’s like the movie Sophie’s Choice.
Gumi: What about you Velvet? What would you give up sex or food?
Velvet: Oh… um… I don’t know, it’s too hard.
Gumi: No, you gotta pick one.
Velvet: Um, food… no, sex… no, food…sex… food. Ugh! I don’t know! I want both! I- I want Antfrost on bread!
~~~~~~~
Tommy, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.
~~~~~~~
Bad: Why are you guys acting like this?
Boomer: Oh, we’re not acting. We really are like this.
~~~~~~
Techno: Dream has only knocked me out three times this week. Our friendship is really developing.
~~~~~~
Tommy: You’re pathetic!
Wilbur: You’re pathetic-er!
Techno: You’re both losers.
~~~~~~
Bad: I wish I could help you, but I shorn’t.
Skeppy: Bad, please!
Bad: What part of shorn’t don’t you understand?
~~~~~~
Tubbo: Why did you leave Wrestlemania on for Michal?
Ranboo: They need to learn how to protect us.
~~~~~~
Antfrost: I regret getting dragged into your heterosexual tomfoolery.
~~~~~~
Bad: Strawberry milk doesn’t taste like strawberry OR milk.
Skeppy: Go the fuck to sleep Bad!
Bad: LANGUAGE!!
~~~~~~
Ranboo: Tubbo, please calm down.
Tubbo: I asked for two large fries!
Tubbo: *dumps fries onto table*
Tubbo: But all they did was give me a MILLION FUCKING LITTLE ONES!
~~~~~~
Bad: That was the worst throw ever. Of all time.
Skeppy: Not my fault. Somebody put a wall in the way.
~~~~~~
Wilbur: When you’ve been on the internet for as long as I have, you develop thick skin.
Tommy: Navy blue isn’t your color.
Wilbur: Navy blue brings out my eyes you prick! *Chases after Tommy*
~~~~~~
Bad: *Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere*
Puffy: Where did you get that?.
Bad: My pocket.
Puffy: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket?
Bad: Skills.
~~~~~~
Tubbo: I will come to your house after work and knock on your window at 11 AM. You will not open the curtains, knowing full well what awaits you, but the knocking only grows louder, more demanding. Finally it stops, your ears ringing. You nervously let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You're safe now. Minutes pass by and you start to relax. And then you hear a knock at the front door. Like before, you stay still and clutch the blankets around you. You try to tell your self that it's just your imagination. Maybe the milk man? But why would he come so late? Everyone else was asleep, save for Naomi who was playing video games down stairs. To your relief, the knocking stops after a few. Minutes and you breath easy once more. Until you hear a knock on your bedroom door. You don't move. It's just your imagination. She isn't here. She can't be here. You tell yourself, shutting your eyes and willing yourself to sleep. The knock comes again, but with horror you realize that it came from the closet inside your room. You know that you have no choice. You get up, climbing out of bed with shaking limbs. You walk to the closest, trembling, and holding back the tears threatening to spill over your porcelain cheeks. You hesitate with your hand over the closet handle. Maybe it's just your imagination? She's not really there. You can go to sleep and laugh it off in the morning. Your naive thoughts are cut off by another, more demanding knock on the closet door, inches from your face. You know what you have to do. You open the closet door, and there she stands. Chuck e cheese, the mouse looms over you in the dim light. It's soulless eyes boor into you. It raises its arms, and you flinch as it begins to floss at lightning speed. Tears spill over your cheeks. This is the last thing you'll ever see.
Ranboo: Wait, Chuck e cheese’s pronouns are she/her? Trans Chuck e cheese? Good for her.
~~~~~~~~
Bad: Would you like something to drink? *They opened the fridge* We have water, milk, juice, spiders, Dr. Pepper-
Quackity: Spiders?
Bad: Spiders it is then.
Quackity: No, that wasn’t-
*But they were already pouring him a brimming glass of spiders…
~~~~~~
Puffy : Make her pussy wet not her eyes.
Velvet : Make his dick hard not his life.
Punz : Break her bed not her heart.
Skeppy : Play with his boobs not his feelings.
Ant : Get on his dick not his nerves.
Bad : Always salt your pasta while boiling it.
~~~~~~~
Wilbur: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons!
Tommy: Bet you I can!
Phil: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*
~~~~~~~
Ant: We need a way to lure in new customers?
Ponk: Maybe we could have some fun, interactive events!
Skeppy: Badboyhalo bath water.
Bad: ABSOLUTELY NOT!
~~~~~~~~
Fundy: GET BACK HERE YOU DUMB FUCK!
Wilbur: LET ME RUN FROM THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!
~~~~~~~~
Bad: Mint is just cold spicy.
Pummel party Squad: …
Gumi: What the actual fuck is wrong with you.
~~~~~~~~
Quackity: Isn’t it amazing how I can feel so bad and still look so good?
~~~~~~~
Tommy: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt?
Phil:
Phil: Why are you eating dirt?
Tommy: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.
~~~~~~~
Tubbo: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies.
Quackity: You’re too young to have enemies.
Tubbo: You don’t even know.
~~~~~~~~
Skeppy: Is there a cactus where your heart should be?
Puffy: What’s up your ass this morning!
Bad: *walks in* …Hi!!
Puffy: Hmm… nevermind.
Skeppy: WAIT NO!
~~~~~~~~
Skeppy: Ha! Don’t you know the trappers trap can trap the trapper?
Skeppy: I must be losing it, I’m quoting Bad.
~~~~~~~
Skeppy: Bad, I sense hostility.
Bad: Good, because I hate you
~~~~~~~
Bad: Are you a painting?
Skeppy: What-?
Bad: Because I want to pin you to a wall.
Skeppy: OH GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY YOU WANTED TO HANG ME OR SOMETHING-
~~~~~~
Tommy: You’re giving me a sticker?
Phil: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!”
Tommy: I’m not a preschooler.
Phil: Fine, I’ll take it back-
Tommy: I earned this, back off!
~~~~~~
Dream, sweating: George, there’s something I need to ask you-
George: Finally! You’re proposing!
Dream: How’d you know?
George: Dream, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.
George: I even picked it up once
~~~~~~~~
*Bad and Skeppy looking at a locked gate into a park*
Bad: Aw. :(
Skeppy: You know what they say.
Bad: Please don’t-
Skeppy: BE GAY DO CRIME! *hops gate*
Bad: Frick-
~~~~~~~~
let me know if ya’ll want more <3
#dream smp#incorrect quotes#mcyt incorrect quotes#pummel party saturday#gumi my beloved#skephalo#badboyhalo#skeppy#dnf#dream team#georgenotfound#sapnap#quackity#karl jacobs#ant and velvet#happy duo incorrect quotes#captain puffy#purpled and foolish have an interaction#dsmp tommy#sbi#dsmp techno#philza#very gay undertones in this#beeduo#tubbo my beloved#ranboo my beloved#also a smidge of ponk and sam
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new team - shoyo hinata
shoyo hinata x fem!reader
summary: you teach hinata some skills in middle school and to pay you back, he guarantees you a spot on the karasuno volleyball team.
warnings: NONE VERY FLUFFY
word count: 1,737
notes: i rlly rlly liked writing this bc i love my boy hinata and this just flowed so naturally and i’m rlly proud of it :’)
i also usually write gender neutral reader bc i’m nb and i wanna cater to as many ppl as possible and make them feel valid, but it was kinda necessary to the story for reader to be fem in this one
********************
after setting a ball to your friend, you noticed a short boy by himself in the corner of the gym with bright orange hair, setting and receiving against the wall. you made your way over to him, observing that he actually wasn’t too bad.
“oi, redhead,” you called out playfully. he turned around with a look of confusion on his face, as if to say ‘me?’ “yeah you. i couldn’t help but notice you’re playing all by your lonesome over here. any particular reason for that?”
his cheeks tinged pink at the callout, but he responded nonetheless. “w-well there’s not enough boys for the school to create a boys volleyball club, so i’m trying to get as many hours of practice in at school as i can.”
you nodded in recognition of his situation. “well, sorry to say you won’t get very far if the wall is your only opponent. but you’re certainly welcome to practice with me when my practice is over. if you’re interested, of course.”
“woah, really? you’d do that for me?” he asked in astonishment, eyes going wide as saucers.
“of course i would. i may not know much about you, but i can tell you have a passion for the sport, and it’d be a real shame for that to fizzle out,” you smiled genuinely. “i’ll help you practice...”
it took him a moment to realize you were waiting for his name. “oh! hinata! shoyo hinata.” he introduced.
“well shoyo hinata, i’m y/n l/n and i look forward to practicing with you.” you grinned. a whistle blew behind you, pulling you from your conversation with the boy. “sorry, i’ll see you later!”
sure enough, you found him waiting out by the baseball field, spinning a volleyball in his palm. after a short while of practicing, you realized you had underestimated this kid and the power he can pack in his spikes. it was clear he needed to improve in his receives, but he was in remarkably good shape for playing against a wall every week.
the two of you quickly became good friends, shoyo becoming your number one supporter - aside from your parents, of course. he attended all your games, cheering obnoxiously loud when it was your turn to serve.
over the summer from 8th to 9th grade however, the two of you didn’t see each other nearly as often as you used to. you had to admit it made you sad; the sweet redheaded boy had carved a special spot in your heart and you missed him dearly.
you attended karasuno high school, hoping to join the girls volleyball club and make some new friends. upon examining the club applications, much to your dismay, it appeared that such a club didn’t exist.
volleyball was your passion, and it hurt that you had no way of pursuing it anymore.
hanging your head in defeat and crumpling up the paper, you heard footsteps approaching rapidly from in front of you. before you could look up, a body suddenly collided with you, nearly knocking you over with the momentum they had built up.
“y/n!” a familiar voice cried out. you quickly realized the voice belonged to hinata, who’s arms were currently wrapped around you.
“hinata! i can’t believe you go to school here! i’ve missed you so much!” you squealed, hugging him back.
he pulled away, a look of surprise on his face. “are you kidding? i can’t believe you go to school here! you oughta be wherever the best girls volleyball club is! speaking of that, have you joined yet?”
you glanced down to the crumpled paper that still pressed against your palm. “well that’s the thing, it’s not even a choice on the club application form. unfortunately, i don’t think karasuno has one.”
shoyo gasped dramatically, jaw falling open in shock. “so what are you gonna do? you can’t just not play anymore, you’re so good!”
you smiled at the compliment from the boy, but your expression grew sadder. “thanks, shoyo, but i’m not sure what i can do. this seems like it’s out of my hands.”
a look of determination painted his features as he grabbed you by the shoulders. “no, i’m not gonna let this happen to you. don’t worry, y/n, i’ll find a way for you to play.”
he ran off, leaving you alone with your thoughts in the deserted hallway.
despite having absolutely no idea what he was planning, you trusted the boy. you knew he had your best interests at heart and would do anything to help you succeed, and you adored him for that. you just hoped whatever method he had to allow you to play wasn’t too embarrassing for you; you weren’t too keen on begging some team to let you play for them, but you had a feeling hinata’s plan wouldn’t involve that.
——————————
“please?” hinata begged.
“a girl? join the team? i don’t know hinata, you’d have to run it by the coach.” daichi uttered hesitantly.
“but you’re the captain, daichi, you have the final say!” he reminded him.
daichi sighed. “yeah, you’re right. what’s so special about this girl?”
he watched as hinata’s eyes lit up in excitement when he spoke about her. “well she was the setter in middle school, but that was only because no one else was good enough to play that position. she’s really versatile and she taught me practically everything i know about spiking! she’s also got some mean overhand serving skills; she’d be a great addition to the team! please, daichi, pretty please?”
he looked down at the boy to see him glancing up with a pair of puppy eyes, intent on winning him over. daichi felt he was powerless to do anything but give in, though his description of you did sound pretty great if he was being honest.
“alright, i’ll talk to the coach and see what he thinks. bring her to our next practice and introduce her to everyone.” he said, not missing the bright grin that donned the redhead’s face at his words.
“thank you so much, sir! you won’t regret it, i promise!” he ran back towards the basket of balls to practice serving once more.
——————————
“where are you taking me, shoyo?” you muttered. “can you take your hands off yet?”
he had cornered you back in the main building, insisting you accompany him to some unknown destination he had in mind. since then, he had been walking directly behind you, his hands covering your eyes.
“i’ll show you...” he waited until you took a few more steps. “now!”
you blinked your eyes open to find yourself outside of the gym building. “the gym? what are we doing here, hinata?”
you turned to him and he grinned. “volleyball practice is about to start.”
“volleyball - as in boys volleyball? what am i doing here? am i here to watch you practice?”
he donned a soft smile at your confusion. “no, you’re gonna practice.”
your eyes widened. “i am? i don’t even have any athletic clothes, shoyo, i just have my uniform!”
“i wouldn’t worry too much about that today,” he pushed you towards the doors. “i’ll just be introducing you to everyone today.”
“introducing...? what is going on here, hinata?” you questioned. he pushed the door open to reveal a large group of mostly tall boys, all staring down at you.
most of them looked friendly and approachable, but several of them looked rather intimidating. “everyone, this is y/n. y/n, this is your new team.” shoyo announced.
you gasped, turning towards hinata. “m-my new team? you got me a spot on the team?”
the look of gratitude in your eyes had him blushing a bright pink and he scratched the back of his head nervously. “it was nothing, really. y-”
he was cut off as you hugged him tightly, thanking him for allowing you to continue the sport you loved. “you don’t have to thank me, it’s not a huge deal or anything.”
“are you kidding? it’s a huge deal! i can’t believe you did this for me!” your smile nearly reached your ears.
he walked you around the gym, introducing you to his teammates. sugawara and asahi were incredibly sweet, even offering to set you a few balls to test your spiking abilities, though you declined since you were still wearing a skirt.
the intimidating one you saw earlier - tsukkishima, you had learned - was not as sweet as the others you had met and seemed rather distant, though you hoped that would fade as you got to know him.
tanaka and nishinoya were full of energy and practically gushing over you even though they hadn’t yet witnessed your abilities.
the one shoyo introduced as kageyama shot you a nasty glare. “what position did you play?”
“setter,” you murmured, slightly on edge from the look of intensity in his eyes. that intensity morphed into fury after your words, intimidating you further.
you quickly remembered this was the incredible setter hinata had mentioned several times before. “o-oh! don’t worry, i don’t plan on taking your spot or anything, i’m sure you’re far better than i am!”
“good.” you smiled at him nervously. “if you’re good enough, maybe i’ll send you a couple sets.”
and of course you met daichi, the captain to whom you owed your spot on this team. he was very friendly and personable and you suspected he was the type to give inspirational speeches before games.
kageyama pulled hinata aside, practicing quick attacks with him, leaving you with daichi.
“hinata talks about you quite a bit, y’know,” daichi murmured, catching your attention.
“he does?” you queried. “all good things, i hope.”
the captain smiled down at you. “he speaks very highly about you and your skills. i think he’s got a bit of a bias since you taught him what he knows, but i don’t doubt you’ll really prove yourself on the court.”
your eyes went wide at the faith he already had in you, despite never seeing you play. “thank you, daichi, that really means a lot.”
the boys divided themselves into teams, starting a practice match as you and daichi observed from the sidelines. your eyes found hinata in the back row, who gave you a wide grin and a wave.
you waved back, your heart warming at the gesture. you had only just met the boys, but you couldn’t wait for the next practice.
********************
i might make this a series? maybe?? maybe not?? idk but let me know what u think :D
tags: @aestosia @elysianslove
not working: @akaashis-keiji @bloodydestiney
#hinata#shoyo hinata#hinata shoyo#shoyo hinata x reader#shoyo hinata imagine#shoyo hinata fluff#shoyo hinata fanfiction#shoyo hinata fanfic#shoyo hinata fic#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#hq#hq x reader#my writing
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This scene is REALLY interesting to me, so I figured I'd share it. Also because I'm writing about 7 fics inspired by it lmao. But I find it really interested that these peasants in Hawkesburn defend Gascon, even though he's pillaged the town. To me, that says something. (and that something is my headcanon that the Strays of Spalla helped feed the poor by stealing from the rich) But ALSO, Meve's response (depending on how you play her) is pretty harsh, and she feels entirely righteous in it. After all, why shouldn't she? These peasants are defending CRIMINALS. Clearly they need some sense knocked into them. (Hint: it does not work)
I like to write Meve (and Reynard) grappling with their view of the law and criminals, because it's interesting! I think Meve is used a relatively clear cut division - if she writes the laws, then obviously they are just, so anyone who breaks them deserves punishment. But the real world doesn't work like that and I think the quest to free Lyria really teaches her that.
Which brings us to another favorite scene of mine:
This bit is really interesting to me because it's clear she looks down on them - not just the bandits, but the peasants too! Which is why I like writing her realizing that "oh, peasants are ppl to and they're MY people" whenever I can lol
Anyway, I'm currently working on 2 specific WiPs about Meve (and Reynard) learning that the Strays of Spalla help the people of Spalla and Scala, though one of them I have no idea where it's going. But I'll stick a snip under the cut, because why not? (and seriously, any ideas on how to continue it/what should happen next, pls hmu)
As always, she could hear Gascon long before she could see him. Sometimes, it genuinely surprised her how stealthy Gascon could be, because when he was choosing not to be, he very much wasn’t.
As he came closer, his words grew more intelligible and it sounded like he was telling an outrageous story to Private Oda involving magic, smoke bombs, and a certain noble’s home effectively gassed.
Meve grit her teeth. Was he seriously bragging about an attack on the Viscount of Spalla’s estate?
“Gascon!” she barked, and she could practically feel Gascon’s eye roll from where he stood outside the tent.
“Ah, seems our queen is impatient this morning,” he excused himself – probably with a kiss to Private Oda’s hand, because it made her blush every time. Gascon enjoyed making people flustered – Reynard was proof enough of that even if Meve hadn’t seen him flirt openly with literally everyone just to see what kind of reaction he’d get.
Finally, the man in question sauntered into the tent casually and slowly, even though he was perfectly aware that Meve’s patience was already being challenged.
“Bon matin, mes amis,” he greeted cheerfully. Meve wasn’t sure how much French he spoke, but she was certain that he enjoyed speaking it so often specifically because neither Reynard nor Meve knew it. “Vous avez l'air tout à fait fracassant, comme toujours.”
She sighed, rubbing her forehead. She hated not knowing exactly what he said. “Good morning, Gascon,” she said wearily, waving him to take his usual seat around their tactical table.
“What can I do for you, Queenie?” Gascon asked, acting as if his temper tantrum yesterday had never occurred. It made her frown, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Why Spalla and Scala?” She was blunt, seeing no sense in jumping around the subject, and for a moment, irritation passed over Gascon’s face before he wore a broad grin once more.
“Why not?” he shrugged, examining his nails. “It’s home, after all.”
“Both cities?” Reynard arched an eyebrow. He was clearly asking sarcastically, pointing out that typically, one’s home was confined to a single place, but Gascon nodded as if he’d been serious.
“And their outskirts.”
“...that includes around 15 towns and villages,” pointed out Reynard, sending Gascon a disbelieving look.
“17, actually,” Gascon corrected. “Possibly 18 if Hidya and Arrok decide to strike out on their own as they’ve been talking about.”
Meve looked down at the map of Lyria and Rivia they always kept handy. Spalla, Scala, and their surrounding areas… “You want the duchy?” she realized with a jolt of surprise.
Gascon froze, going so still he hardly seemed to be breathing. “Not necessarily.”
Gaping at him, she shook her head. “There’s no way even Caldwell would’ve been stupid enough to agree to make you a duke.”
“No,” Gascon agreed. “But we all know titles are superfluous anyway.”
“Excuse me!?” Count Reynard Odo demanded.
“You have no interest in court,” Meve said, narrowed eyes assessing Gascon. “You just want the land. Why?”
Gascon stared right back at her, tapping his fingers against the table. “Because you neglect it,” he said finally.
“I what!?” Meve hissed, genuinely shocked. “What are you talking about!?”
“Because Reginald murdered the duke and you’ve no intention to replace him, instead leaving corrupt lords to govern over the area, exploiting peasants to their satisfaction. After all, the crown has clearly shown it doesn’t care about peasants as long as they pay their taxes.”
There was that anger again, strong enough to mean that the grudge was was sown deep down inside.
Meve had no idea what to say to that, no idea what to do with the realization that it wasn’t just nobles Gascon hated, it was her specifically.
“If I care so little, why are you here?”
Gascon looked into her eyes for a long second, then closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said, shaking Meve to the core.
Was their alliance truly so tenuous? Just a few weeks ago, he’d told her that he’d come to believe in her and that that was why he hadn’t sold her out. But now… now he didn’t know.
He sighed heavily, “you’re a decent queen, Meve. But only for those you agree with. What happens to everyone else?”
“How dare you–!” Reynard started, but Meve held up her hand, glaring tensely at Gascon.
“What?” she asked Gascon. “What happens?”
“They starve,” Gascon said seriously, eyes going distant. “They starve and in winter they freeze and in summer they collapse and if they’re lucky, they’ll make enough to maybe afford a meal after they pay their taxes.” He licked his lips, “that’s where the Strays come in. We look out for the ones no one else will. And yeah, we do it by stealing from those who exploit them. But at the end of the day, all the noble has lost is some coin. Meanwhile, those starving peasants live another day more.”
“You’re claiming the Strays help people?” Reynard’s voice was incredulous.
“Yeah, kinda figured you wouldn’t believe it,” Gascon sighed, pushing himself to his feet. “There’s no point talking about this. We steal from nobles, so we must be bad, right?” He shook his head again. “Forget it.”
“Gascon–” Meve tried to stop him, but the words stuck in her throat and Gascon avoided her hand, marching past her and out of the tent. She stared after him in shock. “Well shit.”
What Gascon says in French (and forgive me if it's wrong, it's been a lotta years since I took French): Good morning, my friends. You (plural) look utterly smashing, as always
But yeah, I genuinely have no idea where to go with this fic, so suggestions welcome! So far it's mostly been Gascon hating nobility, Meve and Reynard getting offended by his hate, and him having outbursts that give a little too much away about his feelings.
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Heatwave Drabble #9: sweet night (M)
[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- must read first!
Pairing: Taehyung x reader
Summary: After a series of miscommunications and immaturity that lead to a rip through both your friendship and ambiguous relationship, this last turn of events could be the deciding factor of whether or not you’ve lost each other from your lives forever.
Genre: angst, smut, fwb au, roommate au, f2l
Warnings: SO much angst and feels, slight slow burner and a lot of build up, unprotected sex, hot tub, oral (m&f), food play, crying, i don’t want to give too much away eeee
Word count: 23.8k a monster i know ;-;
A/N: The end is finally here!! It’s late but trust me when I say I worked all day on this and did not do an ounce of revision today because I wanted to get this done. I’ve been writing this series, and this ending in particular, for so long and have been so nervous about getting this perfect. So please enjoy~
(quite a few ppl also couldn’t be tagged from the taglist and it’s 3am so i honestly dk how to fix it ;-;)
.
You used to think heartbreak was for the weak, after all you can only hurt as much as you let yourself be hurt. So... maybe you are weak. Because that ever-constricting ache in your chest has not diminished even a bit since that day you left him.
Four weeks. Not a word to each other.
It’s a hollowing feeling - someone you’ve had in your life every day for the past few years, a constant companion, suddenly completely absent in a blink of an eye. You don’t think you could put it into words even if you tried how this affected you. Life feels so foreign, your personality dulls.
The anger you felt for him dissipated quicker than you’d anticipated, but the anger at yourself only grew. No matter how you look at it now, you can only see it as being your fault.
But the decision to part ways was for the best, you have to keep reminding yourself. You shouldn’t be around each other anymore.
Whenever you see him around campus, you spin around and speed off the other way, hoping that he doesn’t see you too. Okay, you are weak, okay. But your heart twists at the sign of him, not just squeezes but twists into thorned knots. It’s the sort of pain that takes from you, makes you a different person unrecognisable to yourself.
You had moved in with Lotta. When she asked you what happened, all you had said was that you two had a massive fight and fell out. She knew better than to prod further from the telltale signs that you were close to tears from a simple question: the trembling throat, pursed lips, uncharacteristically quiet voice. And you were grateful because you knew you couldn’t afford to be asked about him without breaking.
The bed feels awfully cold in the nights of early February. And every night, you stare at his name on the screen of your phone, contemplating. One tap and you can hear his voice. One tap and your longing could be absolved. You always almost give in to this overpowering urge itching within your fingers. But you wouldn’t even know what to say to him.
Hi. How are you. I miss you like crazy and I think about you everyday but I know we should keep our distance but I’m just so sorry for everything.
You liked to think that maybe this break is just temporary, you both need space from each other because the toxicity built up so quickly that neither of you could think or breathe. But the longer time is spent away from him, the more you convince yourself that it wasn’t meant to be. It was never going to work; you knew this from the start but had been too optimistic.
And the mistakes you both made… You can’t forget them and the scars you’ve left on each other; you don’t think he’d be able to forgive you, not any time soon anyway.
You wonder if he’s doing the same, if he too is agonising over every wrong step he took to lead you two to this state, or if he’s cursing you for destroying everything. For his sake, you hope he’s moving on. Because that, for some reason, feels so much better than knowing that he’s crying over you.
The strange thing is that you had been the one to break things off. The look of lostness in his red-rimmed eyes laced with an unmissable reluctance will always be an enigma to you. Because he was furious, distraught. So why was he shocked by your ending? How was he not done with you?
That day you left, he wordlessly stood next to you as you packed your things. When you handed him his grey hoodie, the one you had gradually claimed as your own under mutual tacit agreement over your months together, it had truly felt like the end.
“Are... Are you sure? I don’t mind if you keep it.” He had said, voice raw from the arguing but also the tears he was fighting back.
You couldn’t look at him, you knew you would fall apart if you did. “I think it’s best if you take it back.” Why did he want you to keep it anyway?
Something was missing in both your voices when you spoke to each other, reflective of the heart-shaped void you had carved into the other. Everytime you think back to that moment, you want to kick yourself. You could have at least kept the hoodie - that way you could at least have a piece of him to cling onto in your lonely desperate nights.
Because now you have nothing. Nothing of his in your life, no reminder at all that he ever existed with you except the memories embedded so deeply in your heart that it hurts.
No one ever mentions him to you; you think they got the hint from Lotta not to. He’s a ghost.
Haunting you with his heartbroken eyes that shattered at the sight of Jimin. You’ll never forget that.
Sometimes, you’ll just be having dinner with her, and you’ll be crushed with this suffocating wave of missing him. It knocks the breath out of you. Because you can momentarily forget that it’s over, and mistaken Lotta as him. So when you look up and realise that it isn’t him, he’s not here, it’s as if someone is digging their nails into your scabbing wound and releasing the blood of your heartache once more.
And Lotta would look up and ask you, “What? Is the rice overcooked?” And you would want to cry because he would always overcook the rice.
And sometimes, you would just want to blurt it all out to her, right then and there. Tell her everything that had happened with you and him, because - god - keeping it inside is exhausting. But the words get trapped at your throat, unable to be enunciated. Which is just your forte, isn’t it? Not being able to say how you feel...
You are a competitive person, that has never been a secret. You are used to winning at everything you wish to win at, it is in your nature.
So losing Taehyung has been the biggest loss of your life. It had been a gamble from the start, whether it would work or not. There were so many signs pointing in the direction of yes, this is going to work, you love each other so much. Because still to this day, you believe that you are soulmates, and you were one step, three words, away from a happy ending. But then, caught up in this game you played, you hadn’t realised that he had been yours from the very start if you had only just accepted him. And that was your downfall: your failure to see his love for you in the form of his actions, rather than the words of validation you were seeking.
And thus, you had lost your lover, your best friend, your other half, completely of your own doing.
The realisation haunts you every night.
.
It’s Galentine’s Day. In this household, you don’t say the V word.
Lotta has booked a weekend trip to celebrate your mutual [forever alone] relationship status. Some strawberry farm in the countryside for friends to pick berries and make jam and bond over their mutual loneliness. Apparently that’s a thing nowadays.
It would have excited you before, a trip like this. The idea sounds much like a sweet attempt from her to cheer you up, (you haven’t been trying to hide how down you’ve been), so as much as you wanted to just wallow on this shitty holiday, you agreed to go with her.
And to be honest, this might be exactly what you need. A weekend away with your best friend away from the city could heal you. Best friend? Should you call her that? You’re not sure because that title has always referred to someone else previously, someone you shouldn’t be thinking about.
To your credit, you’ve been doing better. You think about him less and less each day; you stopped crying after the first week. You’ve always been a progressor with astounding growth. It’s not to say that you’re doing fine - that would be a reach - because small things such as a cup of hot chocolate would still remind you of him and the string of memories that come with it. But you think your heart is finally slowly starting to stitch itself back together.
Galentine’s weekend just so happened to fall on the weekend of Lotta’s Geophysics trip to Barcelona, as inconvenient as it is. But, rather than letting this disrupt her plans, Lotta had been adamant about going.
“My flight lands at 7am. That’s two hours before we are supposed to meet and depart from the coach station. That’s plenty of time.” She had waved away your concern when this topic of discussion came up last week.
“You never know with flight timings. We could just blow it off and have just as nice of a weekend at home watching movies.” Strawberry picking sounds great for the soul, but so does Netflix and ice cream. “We could have a Saw marathon like we’ve been wanting to.”
“Saw marathon on Valentine’s day?” Lotta scoffed at your suggestion
You blinked. “What’s wrong with that? We love scary films, it’s our thing.”
“It doesn’t matter, I’ve already paid for the trip and it’s non-refundable.”
“I’ll subsidise the cost, there’s no point forcing this trip if it won’t work with your schedule. You haven’t even let me pay you back for my half of the trip yet.” Lotta is like that with money, overly generous when completely unasked for. If you don’t mention paying her back, she would never have asked you to.
“It’s my treat to you, shut up. Just trust me, Y/N, I’ll make it to the coach on time, I always make it on time.” She shook you by the shoulders. “We’ll make our separate ways to the meeting point Saturday morning and everything else will go smoothly. There’s no reason to cancel the trip. Plus, V day is on Sunday, so do you really want to see all those shitty ass rom-com Netflix suggestions or would you rather be enjoying the great outdoors? Trust, we need a break in the countryside. It’s going to be an amazing weekend, you’ll thank me later.”
Right now, as you make a final check through your lightly-packed bag before you leave the house, you find yourself agreeing. You do need the fresh naturally strawberry-scented air to expel all these negativity from you. You want to feel yourself again, be happy and loud and excitable.
Collecting for your trip ticket that Lotta had left on your desk before she went to Barcelona, you decide right now that: yes, this will be an amazing weekend. Law of attraction and power of manifestation. Lotta’s flight will be punctual and you will make some fond memories together.
You’ll be okay.
You arrive at the meeting spot twenty minutes early because you are known to be prone to tardiness. The tour guide welcomes you keenly. He is a young, twenty-something you reckon, tall man, graced with dimples and honey skin. You think you would find him attractive in different circumstances, but you haven’t gotten to the stage of feeling attraction for anyone else yet.
“Your ticket with the barcode, miss?” His smile is charming, you guess. It’s more an observation than an enticing quality. You hand it over to him wordlessly and watch him scan the creased piece of paper. “Great, that’s perfect. And your partner?”
“Partner?” You frown, but realise what he means. This is a Galentine’s programme, of course he expects you not to be alone. “Oh, she should be coming, we came separately because she’s just getting off a flight right now.”
“Oh! That’s very sweet of her to rush back to spend this weekend with you.” The endearment in his smile heightens.
“Yeah… She’s the best.” There’s no particular reason for your awkwardness. You’ve always been a social butterfly, yet lately, you’re keeping more to yourself, avoiding unnecessary conversations because your mind is always too preoccupied.
“I am Jae, by the way, and I’ll be your guide for the weekend. I hope you have a wonderful time with us this Valentine's day. Hop on board.” Giving him a polite nod, you climb onto the empty bus, noting the swirly hearts beside the large red words ‘STRAWBERRY LOVE’ on the side of the big white vehicle. Kind of tacky, but the idea of this programme is kind of cute so you guess it’s suiting. After assessing row after row, you plop down at a window seat you deem worthy and settle your bag on the seat beside you, head leaning on the glass as you await your partner.
Dear partner, please don’t be late, you text her.
Soon, other participants of this trip start arriving, filing a crooked queue in front of the tour guide to register. You don’t pay much attention to them except to examine for Lotta’s face. The coach is set to leave at 9:00 on the dot in order to arrive at the farm at noon, it is now 8:56 and Lotta is still not here. You don’t want to lose faith in manifestation magic, but worry is settling in. If it comes down to it, you will beg Jae to wait for you. With your texts unread, you decide to phone her.
Come on… Just let this one weekend go smoothly for you.
Nervously playing with the ends of your hair, you exhale in relief when she picks up. “Oh thank god, Lotta. Where are you? The coach is leaving in like two minutes. You’ve landed right? I’m not sure if I can convince the people to wait for you that long but worse comes to worse, I could ask for the address of the farm and you can commute there yourself. ” A silence replies after your slur of panicked words. “Hello? Dude, hurry.”
“Wait, so he’s not there yet?” She asks hesitantly.
“Who? The tour guide? No, he’s here. Where are you?” Just then you hear a thunder of running footsteps. Expectantly, you look out the bus window for your friend’s arrival, only to find…
“Wait, Lotta… What the fuck did you do?” Something drops in your stomach.
“Look Y/N, don’t be mad. This is for your own good, you need this.” You can practically hear her stealthy smile through the phone.
An icy chill strikes down your spine. You simply cannot believe what you are seeing out the window. She-
“Lotta…”
“Trust me, okay? You have been so fucking depressed the past month. You need to fix this problem, please. I hate seeing you like this, so if not for yourself, then do it for me.” There’s some guilt in her tone, you’ll give her that. But you are in a state of utter disbelief, borderline shell-shocked, the groves of your brain tangled in itself.
“Lotta, where are you? Are you even fucking coming?” Absolute mortification fills your chest to the brim at your gradual realisation of her ploy.
This can’t be happening.
“I promise, this is all for your own good. Please have a great weekend. I love you. Bye!” And with that she hangs up, leaving you wide-eyed, jaw-dropped, staring out the window...
At a panting, slightly sweat-beaded Taehyung handing his crumpled ticket to Jae.
“Made it just in time, mate.” You can just about make out Jae’s words from the shape of his mouth as he greets Taehyung and proceeds to recite his ‘I’m your tour guide for the trip’ speech. Taehyung nods interestedly, reciprocating with that sheepish smile of his as he scratches the back of his bedhead.
What did your best friend do? Did she just… set you up…? As you hear his loud unmissable steps stomping up onto the coach, you know you’re doomed. It’s over for you. You might as well fling yourself off a cliff.
Looking around the bus, you realise that it of course is completely full except for the seat beside you.
The power of manifestation is fucking bullshit. You’re stuck with this bad luck for the rest of your life.
And this weekend, you’re going to die.
You see him as a blur at the start of the aisleway, a mere figure in swatches of peach and brown and black. You hear pounding, a booming pulse in your ear.
It’s Taehyung. Taehyung. Your, but also not your, Taehyung.
Each step he takes approaching the only available seat he sees, you shrink lower in yours and keep your eyes pressed shut, but for what reason you’re not entirely sure. There’s no hiding now.
Your confrontation is inevitable, a few steps away. Then he finally sees you.
“Y-Y/N?”
Your heart soars to your throat at the sound of his voice as everything around you vanishes. This can’t be real.
Slowly, you turn up to face him. When your eyes meet, it’s like someone has driven a sharp object into your chest and twisted. His face is exactly how you remember, but also not quite. His big brown eyes are wide with surprise in a pitiful expression of bewilderment. His sleep rumpled hair, grown out to almost cover his eyes, yet still very much permed in the style you loved. His lips are jutting out, slightly parted in confusion at your unexpected presence that reminds you of how it felt to kiss him.
And the look of disgust that you had expected - absent.
You want to throw your arms around him. There is always a warmth emitting from Taehyung - the kind of warmth you feel when you enter your house on a snow ridden day and the gust of heat accompanied by the smell of home simply swallows you like a wave. But there is also something different, unfamiliar almost, about him. He is rougher round the edges, hints of facial hair dotted below his nose, dressed in slacks that he only usually wore strictly as pyjamas and never to go outside in.
As your eyes fall to the rest of him, you notice his fists tighten around the straps of his backpack, the balls of his knuckles whitening.
“Taehyung-” Saying his name feels like a release. A rush of satisfaction at the way the syllables roll off your tongue so naturally, then a flood of emotion that comes with all the memories his name invokes.
Then you’re at a loss for words again. You are so utterly unprepared for this situation because you didn’t think you would meet him again so soon, not until you’ve moved on. You’re not ready to face him.
What do you say? How are you meant to act around him?
He looks equally as lost, though you read him easily. There’s a flash of hurt in his eyes, the same that you’re sure you had. But it dissolves much quicker with him, almost into relief and content as if he’s glad to see you.
You know from the slight downward angle his brows are pointing that he has definitely missed you. Perhaps in a completely different way from you missing him, but he’s missed you.
“If I could just have everybody's attention!” Jae’s voice booms from the speaker, startling every passenger. “Young man over there, please be seated.” You quickly snatch your bag into your lap to let Taehyung sit next to you. The seats aren’t the most spacious; despite pressing your side against the window as much as you can, Taehyung’s shoulder comes brushing past yours as he settles into his own seat. Your heart flutters. “As all our participants are now present, our ride will begin immediately. The duration of the ride will be three hours, but a pitstop will be made at around halfway for a quick snack or toilet break. Please ensure all seatbelts are fastened during the entirety of our journey...” He drones on.
Three hours, you bristle. Everything is happening all at once and your mind can’t catch up. You’re going to be stuck on this coach for three hours next to Taehyung. No, worse. You’re stuck with Taehyung for this whole weekend in a strawberry farm.
Glancing over, his lips are pressed into a thin line, no doubt with the same chaotic thoughts racing through his mind. There isn’t much leg room, and though his thighs are purposely clamped together to avoid touching you, you know he can’t keep them clamped this tightly for three hours without cramping. Your legs are going to touch at some point.
God, why are you even losing your mind over something so juvenile? You’ve been reduced to a pre-teen girl so easily flustered by the thought of touching thighs amidst this turn of events.
Everything is gonna be okay, you tell yourself. This is gonna be fine. You don’t have to speak to each other. Just put in your earphones and fall asleep against the window.
But you have so many questions, for Lotta, for Taehyung. Did she plan this? How did she know that he’d be here? Hell, did he know you’d be here? No, there’s no way. The shock on his face was genuine.
He stares ahead, though visibly extremely puzzled. You suppress the urge to glance over at him every second to check that it’s really him.
“Thank you everyone for joining us so promptly. As you already know, I am Jae and I will be the guide to your trip to our beautiful strawberry farm over this Valentine’s weekend.” You pause. Right, this is a Valentine’s weekend trip, you had momentarily forgotten. And you’re stuck with Taehyung here. Two days, two nights. You’re not sure if you could withstand his presence for that long. Will you ignore each other for the entirety of this trip? You would be fine with that, and in all honesty, you think you might prefer it over speaking to him because that would only sprinkle salt on your wound.
A sharp pain in your palm reminds you that you’ve been gripping onto the programme leaflet that was handed to you. You smooth out the creases of the paper and flip it open to skim through what you have to tackle ahead of you.
Day 1: Go strawberry picking with your partner at our scenic farm in the lovely spring weather while the sun is out. A heavenly spa awaits you afterwards to wind down and indulge together. For an amorous evening, go stargazing under our cloudless skies...
Alarm bells start ringing immediately, from the cursive font of the strangely-worded phrases, to the shades of reds and pinks of the background. You skim further down the page, the kernel of anxiety growing exponentially at your throat.
Day 2: Make delicious strawberry jam and learn our signature recipe for a splendid strawberry tart. When dusk falls, enjoy a romantic candlelit dinner with your partner amidst the symphonies of our string quartet.
Fuck. Wait, what the fuck.
You flip back to the front page.
Strawberry Love: The Perfect Couple’s Romantic Getaway Valentine’s Weekend
Strawberry… Love…
“What the fucking shit?” You can’t help but cry out loud. Lotta- She-
The passengers of the bus all turn to shoot you at look of concern at your outburst, Taehyung included. His eyes dart around the features of your face to search for an answer. “What’s wrong?”
What’s wrong… What’s wrong…? What isn’t wrong at this point?
You feel defeated, absolutely fucking defeated that you don’t even have it in your to be shocked or angry. There is no way you can ignore him for the whole weekend when the programme of your trip - a couple’s Valentine’s trip - obligates you to spend time with him. The thought of making stupid little strawberry tarts with Taehyung… Your blood can’t even boil, you’re just fucking speechless.
Lotta, that conniving genius that is your best friend. How did she manage to pull this all off? Galentine’s trip your fucking ass. She tricked you into a romantic holiday with Taehyung, fucking hell...
But that means - she knows. The mortification hammers into your stomach. There’s no reason for her to do this other than for the purpose of getting you two to make up. Lotta fucking knew about you and Taehyung.
How? For how long? And why does she think that this will benefit you in any way? You and Taehyung are over and you were slowly (fine, excruciatingly slowly) moving on. Until now.
Letting out a huff of your frustration, you turn to look at Taehyung, properly look him in the eye for the first time. You can’t stop your chest from constricting. He regards you with that confused expression of his, eyes holding your glare but barely just, bashful from your sudden undivided attention channeled towards him. “I need to know what you’re doing here first.” It comes out harsher than you mean for it to, but it stems from your desperation to stay inert while your emotional sanity is precariously threatened right now.
“Me? I… Well, Lotta told me that she had a ticket for this weekend-trip to a strawberry farm type thing that she couldn’t go to anymore, so she asked if I wanted to go in her place because she knows that I like strawberries.” He furrows his brows. “Okay, that sounds really stupid out loud but I swear I didn’t know that you were gonna be here.” He throws his hands up, nothing but honesty flooding his chocolate eyes.
But of course, Taehyung doesn’t lie, you are sure from the times you’ve witnessed him not being able to muster up an excuse to get rid of an annoying relative on the phone. What’s more convincing of his truth is that he would not be the most difficult person to fall victim to Lotta’s scheme - drizzle in mentions of food and he is completely your pawn. You almost feel bad for this unsuspecting fool; he still has no idea.
But Lotta, that sly bitch… You are going to wrangle her when you get back.
“Taehyung… She lied to you.” You sigh, watching his features slowly contort in deeper confusion.
“Wait what? So we’re not going to a strawberry farm?” He sits up in alarm, looking around the bus as if that would grant him any insight whatsoever. You almost laugh at his naivety because as much as you want to uphold your cold exterior, something about him, his ever present innocent boyishness maybe, never fails to penetrate through to you.
“No, that’s not what I meant. She lied to me too; she told me that this would be a girl’s trip because we’re both single and bitter for Valentine’s. Get it? It was just a setup. For you and me.” As the clockwork finally turns as he processes your words, a visibly distressed grimace forms. “Look at the programme, Taehyung, it freaking says: Strawberry Love: The Perfect Couple’s Romantic Getaway Valentine’s Weekend!”
As those words resonate from your mouth and the realisation finally dawns on him, dread settles itself in the pit of your stomach, cold, dry and coarse. Saying it aloud somehow finalises it - this is actually happening, you’re going to have to spend this weekend with the one person you’d least like to be stranded with right now.
“Lotta… But why would she…?” Deep red roses effloresce across the apples of his cheeks, and you feel yourself unconsciously mirroring his reaction as your mind flashes back to the planned activities of this tour. You’ll be made to pick berries and bake pastries together. And the romantic candlelit dinner… You can’t even finish that thought. Because even now, you find your eyes roaming every inch of his face, trying to memorise his details because it’s been so long.
This isn’t healthy for your heart. You were on a path of recovery, a path of forgetting him and forgiving yourself, and now you’ve been flung back to square one.
The bus jolts. His leg lightly knocks into yours and both your attentions momentarily divert to the touch, glaring at where the thick grey material of his joggers meets the thin cotton of your trousers. A long second passes before Taehyung lifts it away from you.
“I don’t know why she’d do this. All I told her was that we had a massive falling out.” You mutter. Except you do know, you know her very well. This was no mistake, but the result of careful planning. She knew exactly what she was doing.
“So maybe she’s trying to get us to reconcile?”
As soon as those words come out, you both seem to freeze in your spots, blinking in bewilderment at the slightest mention of the elephant in the room. It might be wishful thinking but you hear a sliver of hope in his question, and you think he hears how it came out too.
Reconcile.
Could the two of you reconcile after everything you put each other through in your last few days together? The thought tears you apart emotionally. Of course you want to reconcile, of course you want to be with him. But haven’t you proven enough that what you had didn’t work? Afterall, everything you had together came crumbling down at the smallest hitch in your path. What is there to reconcile but a dysfunctional relationship?
And how could either of you forget the torment you endured? The noises of Taehyung with another woman through the thin walls, your betrayal of his heart when you mistakenly slept with Jimin.
Reconciliation doesn’t seem possible in the foreseeable future.
“N-not reconcile in that way, I mean, like, for us to make up.” Taehyung stammers, hand waving about in his nervous state. “I mean- no, not make up, but like… make… peace. Yeah, make peace. Sorry.” He winces timorously at his spectacular fumble of words. It’s surprising how nervous and timid he is acting. He should be brutish to you, savage and hostile. But he isn’t.
“Yeah, I got what you mean… Don’t worry.” You can’t stop the corners of your lips from turning up, just a fraction. “But yeah, I think she wants us to make peace.” You conveniently do not bring up how you’re certain that she knows about your history and that this holiday she booked for you and Taehyung is most definitely for the purpose of reconciliation in that way.
“Right.” His bottom lip pinched between his teeth in a manner that makes it feel as though it’s a sight you shouldn’t be looking at, Taehyung’s attention shifts down to avoid your eye. Though, there’s a clear glimmer of expectation as he asks, “So… do you want to talk it out?”
The bus bounces, violently this time, as it drives over what must be a pebble. It rattles your thoughts so physically that you have to grip onto your trousers for support.
This is the deciding moment. Now is when you can choose how you go about this which will determine the rest of your weekend together.
Do you want to talk it out?
The painful memory of the last time you had tried to “talk it out” rakes its claws down your back. All the yelling, the hurtful accusations hurled both ways, the reluctance to accept blame… It haunts you so much so that your voices still ring in your mind, echoes embedding the misery you had both felt and inflicted deep in your bones.
The three stages of your fight painted clairvoyantly in your mind.
One: The Hurting Each Other.
You fuck guys without learning their names.
Two: The Guilt-Tripping.
I didn’t sleep with her. I couldn’t even kiss her for more than a minute on her bed because it felt so wrong it made me fucking sick. I stayed on her couch and thought about you all fucking night. Happy?
Three: The Falling Apart
I… I thought it was clear how I felt…
Always replaying in a loop.
“I’m not sure what there is to talk out.” You say, hating how callous you sound but knowing that it’s a necessary evil to convey your intent. That was in the past. Taehyung is your past. Talking about it would only drag you back into that perpetual cycle and there’s not much left in you to afford that. You look out the window at the open plains of grassland to avoid the hurt you know he can’t hide on his face. “I think it’s better if we keep our distance as much as possible and not make it difficult for ourselves.”
“Okay.” You hear him reply, but only a quiet mumble. From the faint reflection of the window, you see him tighten his jaw and fit his Airpods into his ears. The monster that is your guilt and bitterness sinking its fangs into your throat.
It’s better this way.
And so the bus continues to speed off to the countryside, driving you further and further from civilization and your chance of escape from this doomed weekend with the boy you’re trying to stop loving.
.
You wake up to someone gently shaking your shoulders. “Miss…” You jolt upright.
The first thing that elucidates in your sleep-fogged vision is your tour guide’s kind face smiling down at you. The second, when you come to your senses, is that you are leaning against Taehyung’s frame, his shoulders much harder than you remember them to be. The boy himself is fast asleep beside you, arm loosely linked with yours because you know he has a habit of holding things in his sleep. You hastily pull away.
“We’ve arrived, Miss.” Jae says politely, that humoured glow in his pupils eliciting a bashful blush from you.
“Oh right.” You look around to find the coach empty except for the three of you. “That’s embarrassing, I’m sorry.” The last thing you remember was the angry texts you spammed Lotta with before the songs in your playlist all blurred into one.
“No worries. Forgive me, I’m still learning names.” The heat of the sun is seeping through the glass of the windowpane, licking tenderly at your skin to rouse you awake. “I’ve tried to wake your partner, but it seems...”
“I’m Y/N. And don’t worry, he’s impossible to wake up.” You pause. There is a chance for you to rectify his misconception that you and Taehyung are a couple, except it would probably require some explaining or white-lying and now is not a great time if you’re holding up the whole group. “I’ll do it.”
Despite the conversation being had right over him, Taehyung shows no sign of his slumber being disturbed. His head is tipped back, mouth hanging open with a small dribble of drool beading at the corner of his mouth. Still the same deep-sleeping idiot.
“Oi.” You nudge his ribcage, scaring Jae with your coarseness. “Wake up, Taehyung.”
Nothing but heavy breathing.
“Dude, we’re here.” You grab his face between your harsh fingers and begin shaking vigorously.
Not even a stir. You remember how you used to like to joke that Taehyung could sleep through a burglary, and just to prove your point, you woke up in the middle of the night one time and screamed at the top of your lungs. He did not even move a toe.
“Uh-” There is a hint of worry in Jae’s face; perhaps he thinks that Taehyung has a health condition.
“It’s okay, I’ve got the trick.” This time, you pinch his nose with considerable force and clamp your palm over his mouth, ignoring the smoothness of his skin under your touch and the feeling of his lips skimming your palm. You glance up to find Jae’s eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, swaying uneasily at your method to wake him. “Don’t worry, it works every time.”
But true to your word, in a few seconds, Taehyung is sputtering for breath, eyes flying open in befuddlement, scrambling to sit up. You let go of his nose and smile at your tour guide only to find him petrified.
“What?” In disarray, Taehyung wipes at the corner of his mouth and pats his hair back down from its messy temperment. His heavy body no longer slumped against yours, you feel a weight lifted off your chest, though the fact that you had fallen asleep on each other plays at your mind, lingering to taunt you.
“We’ve arrived.” Jae winces.
You stare at the patterned seats of the coach, trying not to pay attention to Taehyung’s embarrassed apology and explanation on what a deep sleeper he is. You’re not going to think about Taehyung and sleeping. Mindlessly, you trail behind the banter men off the vehicle. You’re not going to think about how good it feels to sleep beside him.
The sun greeting you when you step foot onto ground instantly refreshes your mood, banishing away those thoughts that were slipping through the cracks. There’s something so healing about the air of the countryside, fresh and unpolluted and full of the pleasant crisp scent that one would associate with green and yellow. Staring back at you is a seemingly endless field of bushes dotted with red, the sweet berry smell already perfusing into your nose.
You ignore the crunch of gravel sounding from Taehyung’s steps not far from you and proceed to join the waiting crowd, their phones out to capture the stunning scenery.
As everyone gathers, it’s difficult to concentrate on Jae’s briefing of the weekend planned ahead, starting with an introduction to the farm which you frankly do not care to learn about. You try not to glance over at Taehyung at the corner of your eye, at how his hair is still sticking out awkwardly in the back, his eyes slightly swollen from sleep. You try not to notice his hesitancy, standing a distance from you despite everyone else standing in their couples.
It’s like a buzzing in the back of your mind, a constant tug at your consciousness, not allowing you to relax as much as you want to in this serene environment. You want to stop thinking about him but you can’t.
“In February, the weather is set to be nice and warm during the day and slightly chilly in the evenings, so I do hope that you have packed sufficiently as stated in the email. Now, if you look to your left...” Jae’s monologue drones on like white noise, because all you can focus on is not focusing on Taehyung.
Lotta has not replied to your hounding messages with anything of use, no answers to your plethora of questions. Just relax. Stop making such a big deal out of it, grow up and make up with him because you clearly aren’t over him. You wanted to tell her that things are not that simple, she doesn’t know how badly you both fucked up. Yet, you know her response would only be some pretentiously worded reply full of the condescending wisdom it always contains when she’s telling you off.
You’ll admit it, as stubborn as you are, Lotta’s advice is right 9 times out of 10. She was right when she said you shouldn’t have gone with Taehyung to Mykonos within two weeks of knowing him because he could have been a killer or psychopath. She was right when she pointed out that you act like Taehyung annoys the living shit out of you but you secretly care deeply for him.
But she’s definitely not right this time, you are adamant about it. It would be a miracle if you and Taehyung could even be friends within the next six months, let alone… And if anything were to happen, setting you two up on a romantic holiday together is certainly the wrong way to go about it. It feels so inorganic, like you’re forced to spend time with each other.
Out of habit, you steal a glance at him. It’s not a surprise to find him not paying an ounce of attention to Jae either. Taehyung is staring off into the strawberry field, face angled away from you such that the sunlight is hitting his skin in all the right places to glaze a golden aura over him.
It’s strange to see such a permanent sadness in his eyes, a melancholic nostalgia. You hate yourself - you did this to him, you broke him. Does he hate you? Resent you? You think you’d rather he did.
Soon, the group of you are whisked away down a pebbly path to a rustic looking hotel beside the farm where you will all stay in. It’s not the old run-down type of rustic, but more the luxurious kind that very evidently serves an aesthetic purpose. And that’s when you begin to notice, this “farm” is not really a farm at all, but more a boujee farm-themed resort. This trip could certainly not have been cheap. As much as you are here against your will, you can’t help but feel immense gratitude to Lotta for her willingness to spend such money on you.
You are stopped at a grand lobby, the style of which resembling a small piazza of Southern Italy - warm neutral-toned Roman concrete walls with a green flourish of vines and bushes. It’s absolutely stunning, a surreal setting that you only see in movies. It’s impossible not to feel the air of romance circulating this architecture. You glance over to find him, stood an awkwardly respectful distance away from you, gaping around at the interior of the building in awe. He is a sucker for art, especially architecture. You almost wish you were friends again only to hear him gush about the beauty of this place.
When Jae begins to hand out room keys, it suddenly occurs to you, perhaps the worst aspect of your predicament this weekend - you are sharing a room with Taehyung.
You are sharing a…
Heart sinking, you look over again to see if the same thought has dawned on him. It has. His eyes are fixed on Jae in an eerily blank way, his jaw tense, a single bead of sweat trickling down the side of his forehead which you will excuse as the heat.
When Jae approaches you, Taehyung automatically joins your side in a dazed worry. Eye contact made was brief, not enough for you two to communicate whether or not you tell Jae that this was all a mistake and you would much rather be apart.
“Here you go, Y/N.” Your guide flashes you that charming grin of his as he waves your keycards before you. Instinctively, you receive it in your palm. “You guys have got the deluxe suite - wonderful choice.”
“We-” You begin, but he doesn’t seem to take notice. You’re starting to notice that he perhaps likes the sound of his own voice a bit too much.
“As I said, strawberry-picking will start at half past so that gives you a bit of time to drop off your luggage and freshen up after the long ride.” He continues. This will probably be the only chance you get to tell him that you and Taehyung aren’t a couple before it becomes too late, and you’re going to miss this opportunity because of another one of his monologues. The desperate itch in your chest grows an uncomfortable size. “Please meet here at the reception on time. And as for your luggage - oh, I see you two are lightly-packed. Low maintenance, my favourite type of people. In that case, your room is on the ground floor, if you follow that lovely couple down that corridor over there.”
And just like that, he smiles, retracts his extended arm pointing towards the direction of your room and turns to guide another couple.
“Wai-” You call after him weakly, but he has once again launched into the same speech he’d recited to you to a new audience.
And there goes your chance of rectifying this weekend.
You stand there for a good minute, mind trying to piece together how, just how, you will manage to survive this weekend. Taehyung is quiet beside you, equally as baffled at what to do.
“Should we head to our room then…” He mutters after too long a moment of unmoving stature. “I kinda want to change into some lighter clothes and we don’t have that long.”
You nod without looking at him. Because you can’t stand looking at his face right now, the face that you’ll be stuck with for these two days, the face that you love.
Silence between you now grows more familiar as you walk wordlessly to your room, the round corner of the plastic keycard digging hard into your palm. It’s painfully awkward. Your echoing steps provide the only stable rhythm against the storm between you.
Beep. The door opens at your will with a swipe of the card.
You weren’t prepared for what exactly the deluxe room entails. Its size could easily be a tiny studio apartment: a small seating area consisting of a pearly white sofa and a glass coffee table so delicately built that you would not trust yourself near; a mini-kitchen on the left side of the room accompanied by a generously stocked beverage bar; a king-sized bed in the far right wine-red in colour and excessively buried in frivolous cushions. But the belle of the ball is really the glass panelled-wall at the back of the room that you face as you enter, spanning from ceiling to floor, opening up to the patio hand-plucked out of your dreams. Rose bushes, circular beige woven garden daybed, and not to mention the hot tub.
You are completely in awe. Your mind instantly flashes to Mykonos. This luxury is the furthest from a farm experience whatsoever. It really explains how every couple on this trip looks like the child of a wealthy politician with their finely manicured hands and sickly cologne.
“Woah.” An octave deeper than usual, Taehyung expresses his wonder as he surveys the extravagance that is your room. “This… How much must this have cost?”
“I have no idea.” You whisper, still in your state of near speechlessness while your feet take you to the glass wall.
This is a place of romantic films, a place for honeymoons. Everything is in a rose-gold tint, glistening almost mockingly under the soft February sun. Why are you here? You almost hear the slabs of sandstone ask.
Behind you, you hear him huff out the marvel that he is submerged in. His backpack slides off his shoulder, swung carelessly towards the loveseat. And plop he goes, starfished onto the bed.
Then the fear returns, reclaims its usual residence in your throat. As you pry your eyes away from the opulence of the veranda to look at Taehyung, his head lifts up at the same moment. The short-lived mist that clouded over your reality finally disperses.
You blink again at his sprawled out limbs. He blinks back.
It is as if a switch has flipped, the speed at which he jumps back onto his two feet, fright jarring his mouth agape. “I’llsleeponthesofa.” The slur of his words are unintelligible to your ears, but his display of alarm is almost comical, threatening a smile from the corners of your lips at the hysteria of your situation despite the same alarm you are experiencing.
“What?”
“I’ll sleep on the sofa.” His voice is firmer the second time he says it, tilting his chin up as if to reassure you of his confidence.
“It’s okay, I’ll sleep on the sofa.” You sigh because you know how much Taehyung is bursting to sleep in a king-sized bed. It was his first time in Mykonos, and you had not heard the end of how it was the best sleep he’s had in his lifetime. So imagine him now.
He bristles, a genuine look of offence fleets. “Of course not, I can’t allow that.”
“Why not?” Your tone with him is foreign, lacking the playfulness it once had - just an aloof callousness.
“‘Coz! I’m not gonna let you take the couch while I sleep on this massive bed.” He gestures at the couch for emphasis, letting his arm dangle afterwards. He is less different with you than you are with him, you note.
“You just answered my question with the very statement I was questioning you on.” You cross your arms and lean against the glass, allowing the warmth to bask through your shirt.
Taehyung frowns and mirrors your action, the muscle of his bicep flexing more than usual from the agitation in his motion. “‘Coz you’re a light sleeper. Just stop being stubborn and take the bed.”
You’re not quite sure why, of all things, ‘you’re a light sleeper’ is what moves you. The consideration he still holds for you inhibits any protest you wish to sound.
He cares about you, he clearly still does. Just like how you would willingly give up the bed for him.
God, you don’t want to fucking be here. You wish it didn’t have to be so painful, every single little interaction between you just reminding you again and again of how much you loved and hurt each other.
Taehyung takes your silence as compliance and begins to unpack, ruffling through his bag for a change of cooler clothes with his shoulders tense in discomfort. You know what the mature person in you should say: we can just share the bed. But you can’t think of a single reason why that would be a good idea.
With this Valentine’s trip completely planned for you two, it feels like the universe presenting you with an undeniable temptation. Everything around you is telling you to just get back with him, to give in to your inhibitions and fall back into him. You’ve got the champagne in the cooler, hot tub in the patio, rose petalled bed all laid out in front of you at your disposal. An inner voice chanting make up, make up, make up. Because what’s stopping you?
What’s stopping you is that look on his face when he saw Jimin fixing the back of his shoe beside you as you were walking him out. What’s stopping you is the sound of another girl moaning his name right down the hall from you.
So maybe some could see it as strength for resisting the yearning, for being able to put up a front and speak to him so indifferently. But you see it as weakness, because you still cannot move on.
.
Despite the sun blazing down your back, the cool gust of spring weather eases what otherwise would have been scorching heat. Never would you anticipate that you would be spending this weekend sifting through strawberry bushes to find large red ripe summer fruit, yet here you are. You don’t even think it’s strawberry season.
You’ve never been a country girl, but the dirt feels strangely comforting under your nails. Well, comforting is perhaps not the best word to describe your state of mind right now. As much tranquility as this farm is bringing you, with Taehyung always no more than two metres away from you, you don’t think you could ever relax.
In black sports shorts, plucking his own berries on the other side of the same very row of bushes, sweat trickling along the veins of his neck… Of course your attention is scattered.
Not to mention, you keep catching his shifting eyes. You thought you ought to say something, but what exactly? The awkwardness is prominent as it is.
A heavy exhale. You find a particularly large berry, leaves curling upwards to indicate its ripeness as the strawberry expert (yes, strawberry expert) had taught you. Pluck. And off it goes into your basket.
This is definitely therapeutic. You imagine every strawberry to be your feelings for Taehyung. This one over here shall symbolise his musky scent that you fall asleep to. Pluck. This one, his stupidly attractive perm, so long that even you would tell him to trim it because it’s covering his eyes. Pluck. His eyes… Especially when he’s confused as he makes that wide-eyed puppy dog face, which is very often. Pluck.
You glance up, you can’t help it.
And he’s already looking at you. Caught red-handed, literally red-handed because his hands are somehow stained with strawberry juice. Instantly he whips his head back down at his basket that is rested by his crouching knees, though there is not much in there for him to look at.
“Stop making this weirder than it already is.” He almost jumps when you speak, clearly not expecting any sort of interaction from your end.
Slowly, he glances back up at you, dark wavy fringe swaying from the slow tilt of his head. “I- Sorry, I wasn’t- Um, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
There’s something quite breathtaking about Taehyung under the sun, the way the rays reflect off his honey-tan skin to give an effulgent finish like a marble statue of some Ancient Roman God worshipped by priests and maidens. The coat of sweat gathered at his cupid’s bow could possibly be your undoing.
You love him, despite all the strawberries symbolic of his traits that you were picking.
And you hate yourself for that. You don’t want to feel like this anymore. You’re so sick of this heavily-hearted feeling of being dragged down by your emotions all the fucking time. You want to be able to look at him and feel nothing, look at him and not be intruded by the echoes of that night.
It makes you sick, the thought of him inside someone else. Physically sick to the core.
“Well, you are. So stop looking at me.” You state coldly. You just want to forget everything and let go of him, but his presence is not letting you do so. If being a bitch is what it takes, you’ll gladly be a bitch
“No, you have dirt on your face.”
Embarrassment slams into you like a wave, wielding you to shut your eyes and take a deep breath of humiliation. It’s instant karma for being a bitch. “Oh.” You say, carelessly wiping all over your cheeks with the back of your wrist, more with the intention of hiding the rush of blood to your face than to actually clean. You keep your eyes trained on a tiny pale berry in the bush, hoping that he’ll look away from you.
But he doesn’t. “You’re smearing it.” You look up to find his lips drawn in a tight line in attempt to hide his amusement. Everything is just working out wonderfully for you, isn’t it? Yet before your mind can process it, he rises from his crouch and leans over the short bushes.
When his thumb meets your cheek, it almost sears you. As his eyes are focused on the dirt on your face he’s brushing away, yours are locked on his gaze - gentle, warm, familiar. The collar of his shirt droops low, exposing his chiseled collar bones, protruding so enticingly as if for the sole purpose to catch your attention and remind you that it was one of your favourite places to bury your nose in.
Taehyung’s touch is heartbreakingly gentle; the rest of his fingers come under the side of your jaw for support, though only fleetingly. The whole exchange is brief, the dirt brushed away as swiftly as your relationship had crumpled.
You feel it in your nose first, that overwhelming wave of sadness, and then behind your eyes. You want to cry. You want to cry as he pulls away, as he realises that he has unconsciously acted out of familiarity, as a shyness reaches his eyes when he meets your glare.
It was only a mindless sweep of his thumb on your face, yet its impact is explosive under your skin, reminiscent of a time when such a touch had different implications, elicited a different response.
You quickly blink it away - the tears, but not the heartache. That wretched feeling in your throat does not permit you to thank him, so you just stare at each other, the world around you a mere blur of blues and greens. You watch his chest rise as he sucks in for air, wondering if the same memories are now visiting, no, haunting, him.
You can’t do this because you’re not strong enough. For you whole act of indifference in front of him, your constant resisting against the urge to fall back into him, you’re still not strong enough.
But to your surprise, or perhaps even gratitude, he’s the one who picks up his basket and paces away without another word. You watch the back of his calves, the slosh of his overgrown hair, as he walks away.
.
You stare out the glass door at the patio. It’s dark, you can scarcely see a thing with the lights outside switched off. It acts as a perfect canvas for your imagination, for scenes of your past together to materialise before you.
It’s not been a full day yet, and you already feel so drained. This is impossible. You want to call Lotta to pick you up, but upon deeper consideration, you don’t think you have the heart to. This must have cost her a considerable amount of money to book. She had the full intention that this will bring you and Taehyung back together, yet it is doing everything but. You don’t want to imagine her disappointment when you return in streams of tears.
After the session of strawberry-picking, your baskets were handed over for your fruits to be washed and prepared for your baking class tomorrow. Following that is your free time, when you are left to your own devices, at liberty to roam around the farm, dine at their organic restaurant by the hotel. Taehyung had taken Jae’s recommendation of visiting the spa; you opted to stroll (sulk) about, as far away from him as possible.
It’s unhealthy, this continuous bombardment of thoughts of him. Your month’s worth of progress has reduced to ashes.
Maybe you don’t even actually have feelings for him anymore. It could purely be a deception of the closeness you’ve developed for each other that you mistaken for love. You had spent almost every single day of the past two and a half years together, under the same roof, sharing a bed towards the last few months. It’s the safety and intimacy that your brain associates him with that forbids you from moving on.
Maybe you’re actually over him romantically. But the wanting, the missing him as your best friend still lingers.
The door to your room opens abruptly. Hair damp, Taehyung strolls inside in a white bathrobe and slippers, his clothes bunched up under his arm. Tiny beads of moisture dot the sparse view of his chest you have.
“Oh, you’re here.” He says, his step faltering at your clearly unanticipated presence. Or perhaps the sight of you, staring out into the dark, completely alone in this room is just awfully strange. “I thought you’d be eating at this time.” Eyes dropping to the ground as the door shuts behind him, his movements are clearly timid and weary, an rare expression on Taehyung.
“Not that hungry.” You mutter. “How was…” You ask out of habit, but immediately catch yourself. Quick eye contact before you both look away like docile animals. It’s too late for you to take back the question now anyway. “How was the spa?” And to make it appear that you don’t really care and was just asking out of courtesy, you turn back around to face out to the patio.
Completely unnecessary and petty move, whatever.
Except you see his reflection on the glass from the illuminated room all too well. Visibly easing that you’ve looked away, he plops his clothes down at the end of the bed and trails into the bathroom to fetch a towel for his hair. “Was really nice, they give good massages. You should give it a go at some point.”
“Okay.” He gives his head a good shake before drying with the towel. It feels creepy that he doesn’t know you are watching his reflection, so your eyes drop to your feet. You wonder if his masseuse was female. Not that it matters at all.
“What time are we meant to meet them for stargazing again?” He is speaking a lot - well, relatively. It saddens you that his usual tone of endearment when he would speak to you is now missing. It’s like speaking to a stranger, but worse, a stranger who takes a stab at your heart after every word.
“At 9, so that’s in…” You raise your wrist to find your watch absent from where it usually sits on your wrist. Right, you had removed it before strawberry-picking so it doesn’t get dirty and left it on the coffee table. Just as you turn around to retrieve it, you are met with Taehyung slipping his robe off. Your eyes widen.
The fluffy material glides down his shoulders like he’s made of gold, revealing the sculpture of his upper body that you scarcely recognise because he never used to be this toned. You thank any higher power there is that he is wearing his boxers, but they do nothing to conceal the faintest V at his hips and the bulk of his thighs. He isn’t bursting with muscle, but body definitely more well-defined than you remember.
“Have you been working out?” It just slips out. You wish, as the heat floods to dizzy your mind, that you had the capability of holding your tongue for once in your life.
Taehyung hesitates, Adam’s apple bobbing at his jugular. That shy awkwardness returns when your eyes meet. “Yeah. I mean a little, here and there…” Self-consciously, he brings his arm across his chest to rub at his bicep, but the gesture only flexes the muscle he has gained.
Your knees feel slightly weak. It’s the lack of dinner, you tell yourself. It’s not just your knees that feel weak though, your heart is thumping haphazardly into arrhythmia.
“But you hate exercise.” The stability in your voice surprises you.
“Yeah I did, but Seojoon said it’d help me take my mind off… things.” Lip between his teeth, Taehyung searches around for a top. Sheepishness in the form of a soft pink tint on his round cheeks turns you soft.
‘Things’, meaning you.
When you realise you’ve been staring, you immediately look down, fingers fiddling with each other like you’re some virgin freshly exposed to the spectacle of the male body. You’re anything but yourself, and so is he. Taehyung exercising? You almost scoff.
“You don’t have to… You’ve seen me naked, you know.” Taehyung mumbles, finally locating the sweatshirt he intends to wear. When you hear him pull it over himself, you sag in relief, the immense weight that his starkness strangely bestowed on you finally alleviated.
“Yeah, but it’s different now.” Now that we’re not together anymore. Not that we were ever together.
You know he feels it too, the sting of those words. The hurt in his eyes fill you with a sort of bitter self-resentment that you cannot wrap your head around. Stop looking at me like that. Stop making me feel like a bitch. Just stop hurting me.
“Yeah, it is.” But for some reason, it stings even more when he says it. His agreement should be a triumph, yet it feels more like the acknowledgement of the broken bridges between you.
When it comes from your mouth, it’s you convincing yourself more than anything. When it comes from his, it sounds like the truth.
.
Of the many things that are slowly killing Taehyung this weekend, the painfully awkward silence is among the most unbearable. It’s the loud kind of silence that he hates where there is clearly so much to say to each other yet none of it is coming out. There’s a vast ocean between you, roaring waves engulfing any sort of message he wishes to communicate.
This has to be one of the strangest experiences of his life - being set up by your friend on a couple’s trip to a resort disguised as a strawberry farm for Valentine’s day with you - and he has experienced a lot of weird shit in his life.
To be honest, he hasn’t been doing so great the past few weeks.
All the anger and bitterness had taken two days to melt away into miserable wretchedness. Two days, that’s all it took for him to not be angry with you anymore because there was one person he was angrier at - himself.
Because Taehyung was quick to realise that losing you is miles, miles, worse than what you had done to him. It was a sudden sort of realisation, the kind that hits you in the middle of doing something. What had he done?
The way he yelled at you, the things he said. His chest always sinks at the rememberance.
You didn’t know it was Jimin, you truly didn’t. But he exploded on you nonetheless, impermeable to your explanation. That wasn’t him. That raging bellowing man wasn’t him. If only he had just calmed down and talked it through with you, maybe he wouldn’t have been sleeping alone in your bed that your scent still clung on to.
And when he thinks about how you had heard him with that girl from the club, the bar, wherever his inebriated state took him that he doesn’t even remember…
Taehyung regrets everything.
How you got to this point was so extremely stupid. He should have just confessed to you, simple and easy, no complications needed. You are a commitment-phobe, he always knew he’d have to be the one to say it first. So why didn’t he? What the fuck was holding him back?
All he had to say was to not go on that date with Junho. That’s all you wanted. Why why why didn’t he just say how he felt?
Taehyung never knew himself to be a crier before this. He had shed a tear or two when he found out about Ryujin’s cheating and his friends’ betrayal; that was a stab in the back that left him gutted from the inside. Yet still, he got by, he survived because he found you. And he had naively thought, I managed to bear through this so nothing can really be worse than this now can it?
It can, and it did.
Once it starts, it won’t stop. The tears. A great tempest swallowing him whole and dragging him under until all he could hear was his own pounding heart. It is always before bed, when he would have the time to himself to truly think and reflect. But sometimes it comes during the day as well. He will be doing something as mundane as washing his hair in the shower, and he would suddenly break down because you had left him your shampoo that you would always get annoyed at him for using.
The house just feels empty. The absence of your voice, your warmth, your lips pressed on his neck every morning before his eyes even fully opened. Gone.
Yet, every corner is etched with the memories you share, your ghost lingering by the sofa that you adore whenever he’s watching TV, or curled up beside him every night in bed. It’s impossible to forget you.
Even as Seojoon moved in to fill your vacated room and help with the rent, the place was cold. It will never be the same because nothing could ever replace you. Everything he had and cherished - swept away just like that by none other than his own mistakes.
Yes, you had hurt him a lot. At the time, that pain felt insurmountable, like the worst thing you could ever do to him. But ultimately, upon the endless nights of thinking, he has realised that what hurt him the most was not you, but losing you. Not Jimin, not Junho, but how what could have been between you two fell apart so quickly by the poor choices you both made.
“Now if you look up to your left, you might be able to see one of our February constellations, the Pictor.” Jae announces, voice full of an enthusiasm that Taehyung could only envy as he guides the tour group towards the centre of a large plain field behind the hotel where you will all be stargazing. It is a lovely, breezy, cloudless night. You are several paces ahead of Taehyung, keenly reading the constellation manual leaflet lit up by your phone; he knows just how much of an astronomy geek you are. “It consists of four stars, as shown on your Star Guide, that are actually very dim and usually not easily spotted. The name Pictor means the Painter’s easel.”
Taehyung stops. Despite the darkness, he sees your shoulders tense too.
The easel you had gifted him on his birthday sits in his closet, stowed away from being a constant reminder of how much you loved him and how much he should have held on. It just sits there, collecting dust, untouched since the day you left.
The halt in Jae’s walking indicates your arrival to the intended location. “Here we are. Let’s settle down, love birds. I’ll set up this gorgeous telescope for anyone who wants to explore the sky in greater focus which I highly recommend.”
Spreading across the field, the group unrolls the picnic blankets you’ve all been given, dropping down to rest atop the covered grass.
No time is wasted from everyone else to snuggle up to their boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives. The atmosphere is sickly, even for Taehyung. The couples around him have done little to hide their affection for each other since the beginning of the trip. It is a romantic vacation after all, but is it really so necessary to display your love so publicly?
You stand static and poker-faced on the other side of the mat, clear signs of reluctance to participate plastered all over you.
Taehyung has never stargazed before, let alone in this context. The stiffness in your movement as you sink down onto your knees and lie down in discomfort makes him wince. He realises now that neither of you have a choice but to put away any ill feelings and lay beside each other.
As he gets down next to you, his head nearly tumbles out his chest at the sudden proximity that he has grown so unused to. In the dark, your scent washes up to him like a timid tide lapping at the shore, hair swaying off your shoulders as you get onto your back. The size of the mat does not permit him elsewhere other than immediately beside you, no more than five inches from touching shoulders. Five inches from touching.
Truthbetold, Taehyung feels himself going insane. It started from the moment he saw you on the bus, your wide eyes, parted lips, so pretty despite the look of terror you wore. He didn’t think he would have the chance to see you any time soon. He hadn’t truly comprehended the magnitude at which he missed you until he saw you again.
And he has been spiralling since. Every gesture making his senses scream in agony, the desire to just talk to you mangling at him. He misses you like crazy. Not necessarily in that way, but just your presence, your funny comments, your feign annoyance when he annoys you. He misses the companionship.
You are both on your back now, the blanket feeling either slightly damp or too cold for comfort. The star-speckled sky hanging above you both is endless, a panoramic painting from east to west. You stare at the sky like it’s your lover, so Taehyung does the same. Astronomy doesn’t interest him as much as the meaning and purpose behind the act of stargazing. The people he’s with and the memories he makes.
Wordless, you stare at the sky, ignorant to his presence. The soft hum of everyone else’s whispers accentuates that frustrating silence between you. Taehyung is so fucking tired of the silence because he’s bursting with things to say to you, to ask you.
“Are we just not going to speak?”
His question startles you for you almost, almost, turn to look at him. The slight angling of your head before you catch yourself does not go unmissed by him.
“What do you want to speak about?” Taehyung hates the coldness in your voice. The unfeeling sounds so real. Why are you being this way? Do you seriously want nothing to do with him? That possibility scares him above all else.
Someone giggles a few yards from you two. On this large grassland, the couples are dispersed in their own little bubble of sweet affection, but not enough for his ears to not pick up these little sounds that send courses of envy through his vessel.
“What do you think?” The four weeks you spent apart were four weeks of lamenting over all the things he should have said, and all that he shouldn’t. And Taehyung’s is done with regretting unspoken words. He just wants to get everything out in the open, out of his system, so he can move on.
“I mean-”
“Look, Y/N. This is stupid, the whole ignoring each other thing. Don’t you just want to say your piece and get that weight off your chest?” In the distance, crickets chirp faintly. The discomfort shuddering in the five-inch area between your shoulders is screaming volumes. Taehyung doesn’t turn away from the sky for the fear of the expression he would see you wear.
He expects a note of irritation in your voice, for you to start arguing with him which he truthfully doesn’t mind because that is at least progress. But instead he gets a quiet defeat. “I don’t want to reopen wounds that are already ripping open, Taehyung.”
It wrenches his soul, truly. He doesn’t recognise you when you speak anymore, both with the things you say, and the way you say it. “Talking will help it heal.” Because that’s both your final goals here - to heal, to be cured of the ailment that is heartbreak.
“How exactly is it going to change anything?”
“I don’t know. We’ve had time to calm down and think and I think we should have some closure so we end on a good note.”
It’s funny now, how Taehyung is the one pleading to speak to you when he should be the one who’s angry at you because you were the one to commit the last and biggest fault. He doesn’t see it like that though, that’s all in the past. To be friends with you again, that’s all he wishes for, he doesn’t care about anything else at this point.
“So this is about amicability to you? You want to end on good terms.” Neither of you still dare to look at the other, eyes locked on the stars but somewhere distant.
“Well, yeah. Do you not?” He asks. He hadn’t expected you to be this uneasy, he thought you would have liked the idea of peace amongst you. “Everything towards the end happened so quickly, wouldn’t you like some closure?
“I would rather take my time and heal in my own way. To be honest, I don’t have anything to say to you about that topic except that I’m sorry, but I’m sure you’re sick of hearing that. It’s pointless.”
You’re coping with this differently, Taehyung understands. But it doesn’t take much effort to be pleasant towards each other, to smile and greet each other like normal people instead of scrambling away from every eye contact. How do you suppose you’d be able to move on like that?
“So not even friends right now?” He tries one last time. A soft breeze washes over you, wafting your scent towards him.
“No, I don’t want to be friends right now.”
Your bluntness stings. Taehyung finally gives in and turns to face you. Your striking profile greets him, your eyes still stubbornly glued to the sky. Your unwillingness to budge or compromise even a little bit is frustrating.
“We were best friends for the past two and a half years. More than best friends, we were literally two peas in a pod; we lived together, ate together, studied together, slept together. And now we don’t even talk. You’re okay with losing that? You’re telling me that I’m the only one who misses it more than anything else?” His angry whisper sounds ridiculous as he tries to keep his volume down, conscious of the setting he’s in.
But then he sees you blink, hard. Then blink again. Your pursed lip trembles. Another two consecutive blinks. When you look at him, your eyes are so glassy that they reflect the entirety of the galaxy above. “How am I supposed to be your friend right now when I can’t even look at you without feeling this great pang of sadness every time?” Taehyung immediately wishes he hadn’t pushed you.
“I… just would rather have you in my life as a friend than not have you at all.” His voice softens to a tone more apologetic. He is the reason for the tears you’re holding back right now and he despises it.
“I would rather not have you in my life at all while I slowly get over you than have you as just a friend because my heart can’t take this constant torture. I just want to be over you but I can’t do that if I have to pretend to be okay around you. And I just don’t get it Taehyung. How are you so willing to be friends again? After what I did, how could you look at me and not hate me?”
Taehyung frowns at you because he doesn’t see how you can’t understand it’s not about that anymore. It’s not about the blame, the who did what to who. He doesn’t care anymore but the fact that you do is alarming. You still can’t let it go.
“Okay, so is this about you not forgiving yourself?” He prods, and watches the brief flash of confusion on your face.
“I-” You’re quick to dispute but stop. Because it’s the truth.
A long silence ensures. You stare at the collar of his sweatshirt, zoned out. Taehyung knows you’re in deep contemplation, you know his points have strong grounds. There is no reason for hostility or callousness between you because it would only hurt each other more.
“Look,” He takes a deep breath. “I just think that it’s unhealthy for you to act like this. You’re burying and burying what you’re feeling without actually facing it. Trying to be friends is a good first step in accepting that we’re not together anymore; being cold to each other isn’t. Think about it.”
Another long pause. He watches you blink, watches your chest rise and fall at every breath.
“I understand your point, I know my coping mechanism isn’t healthy but it’s all that I know right now. We’re different, we’re hurting differently and healing differently. I’m sorry for acting out on you when it’s myself who I want to punish. But I seriously don’t have the strength to be your friend right now, I wish I did but I really don’t. Just give me time.” The fact that you’re not arguing with him says a lot; you have both matured from this experience. It’s sad that this is what it took for you to do so.
“Okay. I respect that.” Taehyung says. “I’m sorry for pushing this onto you, it’s selfish of me, sorry. I just… I don’t know, I guess I’m pathetic. You were my best friend and I want to salvage it as much as I can. I just miss you, that’s all.”
You don’t say anything, but Taehyung is okay with that. Because he knows you miss him too, you miss the friendship, the having each other to lean on.
The difference between you and him is that you can’t compartmentalise your lingering feelings for him and put that aside right now, whereas he can. You need to rid those feelings before you can be his friend, and he’s okay with that.
He stares at Pictor, it’s four weak stars that dim beside much brighter constellations yet somehow call to him. And he almost smiles.
.
You stare at your own reflection in the mirror.
That conversation with Taehyung resonates with you more than you’d care to let on. You let every single word he said sink in, your inner turmoil contemplating the points he made. Because he definitely has a point.
What resonates with you most is the word closure.
He’s right, everything between you ended so quickly that there was no time to process and accept it until it was already over. Maybe that’s why you’re finding it so hard to let go. If you were to be friends again, you could at least normalise his presence and gradually move past this.
Twisting the faucet on, you splash some water on your face to clear this dilemma from your head. And after wiping yourself dry, you exit the bathroom into your room with a great sigh.
Taehyung is wearing the grey hoodie - that’s the first thing you notice. As in the grey hoodie you would always claim as your own because of how soft its material is. The grey hoodie that you regret giving back to him. The grey hoodie that he would always wear when you guys gamed at midnight and it would always end with you on his lap, his locks tangled in your fingers while his mouth explored yours.
You take it back, fuck being friends, you’re back to square one.
He glances up in the dark, eyes surveying your silhouette from head to toe as he places a pillow on one end of the couch. Ever since that conversation, there’s the most subtle difference in his permanent expression - his lips look inclined to smile, his eyes hold an understanding for you that makes you feel vulnerable.
And, god, it makes you want to try. He deserves it, to have his best friend back in his life even if that best friend is you, the person he trusted the most in the world only to turn around and impale him in the chest with those stupid decisions of yours.
The omnipresence of your awkwardness hasn’t faltered though. “Taehyung, I said I would take the couch.” You protest, though you’re starting to see that it’s futile. You may be the more stubborn one between the pair, but there are certain things that Taehyung would never back down from.
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, Y/N.” The corner of his lip turns up properly now, like he’s silently snickering at a joke he thought of. “That’s just - not gonna happen.”
“What’s so funny?” Switching the bathroom lights off behind you, you ask. You hadn’t packed well for this trip, you are only in a flimsy camisole and a pair of sweats, the cold air coaxes goosebumps on your skin. His gaze follows you as you draw the curtains shut over the glass wall, leaving only a strip of moonlight streaming in.
“Nothing.” Taehyung places both hands on the top of his head, an action that causes his hoodie to slightly ride up his torso. You fix your eyes on the floor as you approach him and the sofa. “It’s just funny how you think I’d ever let you sleep on the couch while I sleep on the bed.”
There is a dead end down this path you’re going, neither of you would let the other win. So you simply ignore him and situate yourself on the couch, stretching your legs to span it wholly. “Good night.” Fixing the pillow he had placed, you shut your eyes.
“What, no.” You can hear the smile wipe off his face, almost making you chuckle out loud. “Y/N, get up.” Hastily he hovers over you. But when you show no sign of acknowledgement, he shuffles away. A moment later, you feel a great gust of air, then the softest silkiest duvet landing over you.
Your eyes fly open. And there Taehyung stands with his arms crossed smugly. “If you take the couch, you also take the covers.”
“No! You’ll be cold.”
“You’ll be cold. You’re not wearing enough.”
You give up. “Oh, for god’s sake, Taehyung. Fine. Let’s both sleep on the bed, okay?” His entire expression dilates. He doesn’t even blink as you get off the couch and cross your arms back at him. “Problem solved.”
Taking his wrist in one hand, dragging the plush duvet in the other, you walk to the bed and sit him down. No noise of protest emits from him, so you go back to retrieve the pillow from the couch in a huff.
“Are you sure?” His voice is suddenly timid, unsure. And he’s right to be so, because you’re quaking on the inside as well at the prospect of sleeping beside him.
It’s not going to be good for your heart, you know that definitely. But like he said, you need to face this. If you touch a paper cut enough times, it stops hurting. “It’s just sleeping, it’s no big deal.” You lie. “You want to be friends right? Well let’s start with this. Let’s stop being stupid and childish.” You can’t look him in the eye as you rearrange the bedding back to its original state before Taehyung messed it up.
His reply merely a quiet yeah… before you both hesitantly crawl under the covers and tuck in. Heat flushes to your face as you do so because the action feels so familiar, yet everything about it is different.
Absolute silence. Backs facing each other. An arm's length or two between you but it feels like more. You don’t even shut your eyes because why pretend that you’ll fall asleep?
Your own palpitation is so vigorous that it’s audible. The thoughts whizzing around in your head are unstoppable, a persistent prodding at your skull. His scent is strong, that sweet honey musk that used to seduce you to sleep now the very thing that’s keeping you up.
It must be, what, ten? twenty minutes? of just laying there as you ponder your future with Taehyung, if you want a future at all. He’s right, you miss his friendship above all else. As much as you love Lotta, there is an intangible quality missing between you, that extra spark that existed between Taehyung which boosted your dynamic up to an incomparable level. You understood each other without having to speak, care about each other more than yourselves - that love was almost familial. Losing that has been too much.
Then you hear Taehyung shift onto his back. “Y/N?” Your heart skips a beat.
“Yeah?” You answer after a pause, mind racing through all the possibilities of what he could say. You hate this permanent uncertainty of what he’s thinking.
Silence follows for a short while, the endless possibility of what he’s going to say flooding your mind. Then, “You know how I can’t sleep without holding something?”
You stop breathing.
Because you see very clearly where this is going, and it’s down a road that you don’t know if you can withstand.
He can’t sleep without holding you. Holding you.
You take a deep breath and clamp down on your lip, grateful that your back is facing him so he can’t see the pathetic weakness on your face. Can you do this?
Can you do this without wanting to cry? Can you do this without succumbing to your momentary desire to just turn around and kiss him because you won’t be able to think straight with his arms around you? You’re really not sure.
“Yes…?”
“Can I…” Something rustles the covers, perhaps his arm, or maybe he’s inching closer. In the pitch black night, every movement feels amplified, more impactful. “You know…”
“Can you what?” You’re not being difficult, you’re giving him the chance to take back on this request. To just say nevermind and turn back around. Because you’re not equipped for his touch; you don’t want it, you don’t want the pain that comes with it.
Another pause. Take the chance, please. But his deep hesitant voice sounds in the dark, “Can I hold you please?”
You shut your eyes. That feeling in your nose again, that rush. Hold it in, don’t cry, stupid emotional bitch, don’t cry. What’s there to cry about? You wonder if this torment will end, and you wonder if you could ever stop feeling this much for him.
“I swear I’m not trying anything, I genuinely can’t sleep.” His voice has a way of penetrating deep into your bones, begging you even if it’s not his intention to.
You could say no, right? Just say no.
But that isn’t facing it, that isn’t overcoming your heartbreak. If your goal of this trip is to come out of this weekend completely devoid of feelings for him, then you need to let him stop affecting you.
“Okay. Please don’t make it weird.” You whisper, not daring to move a muscle.
Taehyung sags in relief, the bed dipping with his weight. “I won’t, I promise.” The sound of him shuffling closer to you constricts your throat. You close your eyes, awaiting the warmth of his front to meet your back, counting down in your head for that dreaded moment to come. “Come closer.” He murmurs.
When his hand fits around your waist, you know it’s an act of unconscious habit rather than intent. Slowly, he drags you into the enclosure of his chest, his scent and heat enshrouding you until you are completely engulfed by him.
He exhales, the fingertips of his breath caressing your hair ever so gently.
Every fibre in your body is tensing, eyes firmly shut and toes curled inwards. His hand feels enormous on your waist, holding you the only way he has ever known how to. With a unique type of affection that is so pure and devoted, yet also with a hint of protectiveness and possession.
Taehyung lets go of your waist only to encircle his arms around you entirely, his legs curling up under yours until you’re both cocooned together.
“You okay?” The back of your neck feels tender, sensual even, from the tickling heat of his breath. You’re too keenly aware of how close your heads are positioned, of the searing sensations that his hands are causing.
No, you’re not okay. Your skin has been lit on fire. Memories that you’ve long since tried to bury are surging back at full force, slamming into you one after the other. He’s too close, he’s everywhere. There is no distance separating you right now, yet you still feel miles away from him; you can’t comprehend his intentions nor decipher his thoughts. The fit of the crook of your back into his chest is perfect, a heartbreaking kind of perfect. This feels so so familiar. This is exactly what you had yearned and dreamt for every night for the past month - to be in his arms again. So why does it hurt even more than being alone?
Instead, you nod, “Mmm, yeah.”
A compulsion is yanking at you to lean back into him.
Taehyung exhales again and rests his cheek on the back of your shoulder where he always used to perch. If you were naked right now, he would be speckling this shoulder with soft dainty petal kisses. You hate that there is still a part of you, and mind you a very significant part, that wants it.
Your hands are inches away from touching each other; just one lift of your wrist and your fingers can clasp. The urge indunates you.
It would be so easy right now to just succumb - let your hand crawl into his because you know he would hold it, turn around and start kissing up his jaw until your tongues are tangled. You think it’s purely physical, these impulses, at least that’s what you want them to be. You just miss the intimacy, that’s all. But then why does it feel like you’ve swallowed a kaleidoscope of butterflies? Except their wings are made of glass, and everytime they flutter, you feel the shards scratch along your insides. There is desire laced in the pain. You don’t know which one is worse.
What baffles you the most is how he is alright with this, how he initiated this. He said he wants to at least be your friend, but this surely feels like a breach of friendship to anyone. Holding each other in bed is not being friends. But then again, you both have always had a warped perception of what friends should be doing.
You don’t understand how it’s so different for him. How the areas where you are touching, even if separated by layers of clothes, doesn’t tear through his sanity. If he doesn’t feel the same crack in his heart, then what does he feel?
With every heavy breath he takes, you take a silent one, eyes shut and praying to be swept away by the sleep that you don’t believe will reach you. You haven’t slept well since that night. Taehyung, on the other hand, you know is instantly sound asleep. It never used to take him more than five minutes as long as you were in his clutch.
But then, maybe there is a soothing essence in his presence with his overwhelming pleasant scent and rhythmic breathing, or maybe you’ve just exhausted your body with constant overthinking, a hazy fog drifts over your consciousness. You’re so tired, physically and mentally drained... And Taehyung feels so warm and snug around you...
The last thought you have before you drift off into reverie is that you feel his fingers slide between yours, holding not firmly but with intent. And you don’t know if it was you or him who moved it so.
You wake up from the damp heat gathered in all your crevices, the thin coat of sweat mildly irritating your skin. You are facing the glass door to the patio, and though the curtains conceal much of the windows, strips of sunlight topple past the cracks and unfurl into your room.
Taehyung’s arm is around you. Still.
After these years of living together, you know everything about Taehyung like that back of your hand. You can tell whether he’s awake or not from his breathing. And he’s most definitely asleep, though only lightly.
You look down and examine your position. In the course of the night, his forearm has travelled progressively higher until it is just about cradling your breasts. One of his legs is thrown over yours, entrapping you in his embrace. In his tangle of limbs, you slowly try to twist onto your back while prying him off.
He stirs, pulls you in tighter.
Which lands your rear in the unfortunate position of right atop his crotch. His crotch that is very much awake and way too excited.
Lethargy immediately expelled, your eyes open wide.
Morning wood is a usual occurrence for Taehyung, especially after a night of merciless teasing, but randomly a lot of the times. You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are, nor aroused. He has mentioned before how uncomfortable it can be, a blaring hard presence, a sore tension waking him up in an unforgiving manner. Which means that he can precariously wake any second n-
“Mmmm.” Voice an octave deeper than its norm, he hums, announcing his returning consciousness.
Taehyung’s morning wood and morning voice. You are being tested right now.
Your concupiscence has been gradually building up in the last few weeks from the lack of any sexual activity save for your own fingers and toys. It’s human nature, and completely goes against your will - but you feel the old friend that goes by the name lust stirring at the pit of your stomach.
At your proximity, the tip of his member digs deep between your cheeks, prodding at your entrance incontestably. Your whole body stiffens as the slowly waking Taehyung nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck habitually, arm tensing around you. Ever so slowly, you look back to steal a glance. His wildly curly hair falls over his forehead gracefully, lashes fanned out from his closed lids. He’s too beautiful for his own good.
Your core dampens and you quickly turn back around.
Fuck, please, no. You can’t be thinking about him like that. It’s so wrong. But his erection burrowed between your ass is banishing any clarity or sense from your head.
But God, you fucking miss this.
You’re going mad from deprivation. The dry spell of the past month had been voluntary, on the basis that you knew it wasn’t a healthy coping mechanism because you would only picture Taehyung over the faces of those nameless men. And because you knew no one knows you as well as he does, thus no one will succeed in satisfying you as well as him. Your sex drive was non-existent right after the break-up; sex simply didn’t cross your mind once while you were nursing your broken heart. And then it came ebbing back, though faintly and infrequently, you regained your libido and would find yourself fantasising on some lonesome nights.
But now, the situation at hand is that: you’ve allowed Taehyung to cuddle you in his sleep and you’ve consequently woken up to his undeniably hard cock poking between your legs. And he is seconds away from fully waking up as well.
So what now?
“Taehyung.” You say firmly, pushing his arm away from your breasts. It’s best if you call him out for it now rather than let it hang awkwardly in the air unsaid.
“Hmmmm..?” He rumbles sleepily. You don’t have to turn around to be able to envision his face, eyes slowly blinking open but reluctant as ever, true to his deep sleeper title.
“Taehyung.” This time you nudge back gently for emphasis. What it achieves is additional friction. Your whole lower half achse to grind back onto him, to slide over his hardened cock, to reach back and pump it in your hands.
Fuck.
You can’t.
You could, so easily, but you shouldn’t. You and Taehyung are completely over in every sense of your relationship. You can’t let this moment of weakness strip away all your efforts in moving on.
“Wha…” He mumbles, finally peeling his arm off you to stretch out. A loud yawn ensues. You take the opportunity of his loosened hold around you to twist back and pin him with a glare, hoping that your thirst is masked.
“You’re hard.”
Eyes still puffy, he stops mid-stretch at those two words. And looks down.
Did he… not notice? Or did he, in his morning hazy, momentarily get the situation confused and forget that you weren’t together?
Taehyung scrambles away from you so abruptly that he almost falls off the bed. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t- It just- I can’t control it, Y/N, you know I can’t.” His stammering is followed by his jerky movements to readjust his bulge as discreetly as one can allow in such situation. The detonation of terror on his face exacerbates your embarrassment. Because you simply don’t know what to do with yourself - with your core tingling in arousal simultaneously as your brow twitches in annoyance. When your vexed eyes meet his, you see another wave of panic crash onto him.
How did you get in this situation in the first place? If only you had just slept on the couch last night…
“Yeah, I know, stop reacting like that. Don’t make it weirder than it already is.” You berate, yanking the covers with all your strength over your shoulder and roll away from him. The distance is more for your own good. You can’t be near him right now, you can’t think about his fucking cock slipping into you.
You want to fuck. You want to fuck Taehy-
Stop that fucking thought.
“I’m sorry.” His morning voice, oh god. Burying your face into the pillow does little against the fluid pooling in your panties.
“Can you go to the toilet and… fix yourself.” When the words leave your mouth, the imagery of him fixing himself flashes before your eyes. And something pulses violently down there. Fucking fuck.
“Um, okay, sorry.” You try to not peek at him as he gets up from the bed, slightly limping as he makes his way to the toilet. But you succumb nonetheless.
His cheeks are scarlet, veins bulging on the side of his forehead, and you’re not sure if it’s from his embarrassment or the discomfort of the boner. Your eyes drop from his profile because his morning face has always been one of your weaknesses, except unfortunately for you, your eyes land on his bulge.
Another pulse down there.
You hate yourself. You feel dirty for even thinking about him like that because it’s so wrong. But then again, he’s probably thinking about you like that as well, hence the raging erection.
When the bathroom door shuts behind him, you let out a sigh. You don’t know how long you can keep hold of your sanity for like this. You’re swimming in a sea of confusing emotions: the constant melancholy you have of missing him and missing the way things were before you had fucked it up; the desperation to move on and understand that he was only a chapter of your life that is now closed; the bitter resentment that you have for yourself as a consequence of not being able to do so; and now the inescapable desire aching between your thighs because of how inherent these memories are of how he would fuck you until you cry like nobody else could.
What doesn’t help is the hint of a slow pumping rhythm from the toilet, and Taehyung’s ragged breathing.
Fuck.
You don’t want to think about how he’s jerking off on the other side of the wall right now, gripping his cock as he leans against the sink, head thrown back. But that’s exactly what you’re thinking about.
Is he thinking of you as he’s doing it? You’re not sure if you want him to, because while you wish he wouldn’t, you also hope that this lust you feel is reciprocated still, that you’re not the only one going crazy with arousal.
Your hand almost trails down to your core when his pace quickens, but his sharp inhale strikes at your inner righteousness. You stop, sit up and rush out to the patio for some fresh air.
Happy Valentine’s Sunday indeed.
.
The dough feels sticky in your hand despite the layers of flour you’ve doused your fingertips in. Baking has never been your forte, you simply don’t have the patience or precision for such a crafty hobby. You glance over to check on Taehyung’s progress at the other half of the counter.
He has the easy job. Of course, when it came to allocating roles between the pair of you in this baking session, the jam-making landed on him because there’s no way he would succeed in making the strawberry tart.
You can’t help but smile at the way his lips are puckered and brows drawn in concentration as he chops the berries as finely as he could. But the way the top half of his hair is pulled back into a little sprout of a ponytail… You gulp.
Neither of you have spoken a word of this morning’s awkward event; it had been a tacit agreement not to as soon as you made eye contact when he stepped out of the bathroom. It has set a lewd tone for the rest of your day. At every blank moment where your mind isn’t preoccupied, especially when you’re doing something as frivolous and kneading dough, your thoughts would wander to the memories of his warm rigid-
You stop yourself. You’re in public and he’s chopping strawberries right next to you.
You’ve noticed how, every time you’d have those sinful thoughts, your mood would lighten a little. The pang in your heart that used to always plague you would profoundly diminish. Of all things, of course sex is what eases your sadness the most, that’s just so characterisitic of you isn’t it?
“Is everything going well?” One of the baking assistants comes over to your counter for the seventh time now (yes you’re counting). She is a petite, rather pretty, pleasant looking girl. And you have not failed to notice how every time she checks up on you two, her attention is always solely on Taehyung. Here you are struggling with your asscheek of dough yet she only cares to ask how Taehyung, the strawberry chopper, fares?
“Yup.” Taehyung spares her a brief glance before dumping the diced pieces of fruit into the saucepan.
“Would you like some more flour?” You almost scoff out loud. You’re the one working with flour over here! Why is she asking him?
“No, thanks.” He doesn’t look up this time.
The assistant smiles to herself as if he’d said something particularly sweet to her. Until her eyes land on you. “Uh- What about you, ma’am?”
“All.” You land a punch on the buttery dough, death glare and all. “Good.” Another punch. Eyes not once wavering. She has the brains to scramble away.
You don’t have the right to assert this sort of possessiveness over Taehyung. But it’s the principle. This is a couple’s romantic holiday; she must be under the presumption that you and Taehyung are together, so how does she still dare to ogle over him like that?
“She’s flirting with you.” You rumble when she’s out of earshot.
Taehyung looks up at you from stirring his jam mixture, his lips still slightly pouted from his focus. “What? Who?”
“That baking assistant who came over just now.” You grit, trying to suppress this irrational vexation.
“Oh. Really?” Clueless, he scans across the room. “Was that the blonde or the brunette one?”
It’s a relief how truly oblivious he is that you don’t bother answering his question. It’s also completely unlike him. Since when did Kim Taehyung not notice when a girl takes interest in him? How fascinating must those strawberries be to capture his undivided attention like that?
“Would you like some flour?” You mimic, batting your lashes at him.
A wide grin spreads across his cheeks. To be honest, you don’t know what prompted you to display such friendliness to him all of a sudden. Perhaps what happened this morning, or even the fact that you slept on the same bed last night, breached one of the walls towering between you. It’s progress.
“You’ve got flour on your face.”
Fuck, again? You need to stop handling stuff like dirt and flour because they keep ending up on your face. “Ugh.” You huff, trying to let the embarrassment brush off. “Where?”
From the mischievous smirk that his grin morphed into, you should’ve known. Before you could suspect, Taehyung dabs one of his fingers into a small pile of flour and smears it down your cheek. “There.”
“You-!” You gasp, your own finger already caked in flour flying for a counter attack at his face.
But his reflexes are fast as he catches your wrist in lightning speed and tugs you towards him, his other hand simultaneously slathering another streak of white down the bridge of your nose. You tumble into him, foolish grin on your face as you twist your wrist out of his grip and manage to smear your floury thumb onto his chin.
Taehyung catches you before you could trip over your feet, smiling so wide for the first time this weekend that you can’t help but giggle. His grip on your waist feels warm. You’re close enough that you have to crane your neck to see him, close enough to see the individual hairs of his brows.
Yes, something has definitely shifted since last night.
The desire is a flame, devouring all your other senses until all you can focus on is his touch, his molten chocolate eyes, his tongue swiping out to wet his lips. You just want to…
Kiss him.
You admit it, you want to kiss him so fucking badly.
Ignition in his eyes, he stares at your lips too, smile slowly faltering. The hammering of your spastic heart cancels out all other noise in the room; you don’t see anything else except him. He doesn’t move, and neither do you. That lustful monster in your mind screams, Damn the consequences. Just kiss. Fuck being friends and fuck being strangers. Kiss him.
“Alright, lovebirds over there. These pastries won’t make themselves. Let’s get cracking!” Both of you jump and the sound of the head chef calling.
A bucket of ice cold water showers over you, extinguishing that prosperous flame. And reality materialises once again around you.
Not just the physical reality, but the reality of your situation as well - you can’t, you shouldn’t be acting like this around each other. There’s being friends, and then there’s this. The line is fine, it has always been.
It’s difficult to separate the weeds of these conglomerated emotions. You miss each other, want to kiss each other. You want the hurting to end, he wants to be friends. Your break up had been too messy for either of you to have a clear vision of what you need to do to overcome this.
Except maybe there is a cure-all solution to this.
You return to your ball of dough as Taehyung goes back to stirring his boiling jam. Yet your attention is now scattered, because a seed of an idea, most probably a very bad one, has been sown in your head.
.
It is most definitely a reckless idea, one that has the potential of going very south.
You bring it up during dinner, the supposed “romantic candlelit dinner with a string quartet” which neither of you are remotely dressed well enough for. “Taehyung, you know how you talked about closure and all that yesterday?”
Taehyung pauses, forkful of tenderloin steak stopped in midair. “Yeah..?” The hope in his voice is infused with an uncertain hesitation.
“I think we should have sex. One last time. For closure.”
The violin strikes a particularly high pitch in the background. Taehyung doesn’t move a hair for at least a good ten seconds before he blinks at you. This was definitely not what he’d anticipated from you, you can tell. But well, of course it isn’t. The idea surprised yourself.
“What? I think I heard something else, say that again?”
Oh boy. “No, you heard it right. I said I think we should sleep together for closure.” You sound unsteady to your own ears. “Release all this pent up sexual frustration we have for each other one last time and then be done with this. You said you want to be friends, right? I actually think it’s going to work for me, I’ll be able to move on afterwards, I’m almost certain.”
Frowning, Taehyung puts his fork down. “Really…? You want to have sex?”
“Yes.” You’re not even going to be shy about it at this point. You weren’t sure how this scene was going to play out but you’d envisioned it to go much smoother than this. “Do you want to?”
“I mean…” Colour of wine stains his cheeks. “Yeah… But are you sure? You were just saying last night how you can’t look at me without hurting. Do you understand why this is confusing for me?”
“I know it sounds contradictory and counterproductive, but-” You halt when you realise that there is no but. You don’t know how to verbalise the explanation that convinced you in your head. “Look at it as break up sex. It’s a common thing because it works. Like you said, we ended so quickly, in a blink of an eye. Just see this as the closing chapter of our relationship. If you don’t want to do it, just say it. I just had to throw it out there.”
Worry drips down your throat when his blank expression remains unchanged - worry that you’ve made a fatally wrong move to make things irreparably awkward now, if he so wishes not to follow through with your suggestion.
But then he nods, ponderously and maybe not entirely convinced, but you’ll take it. “I think you have a point… The thing about closure and ending this better than we did the first time round.”
“So… You’re down.”
“Down.”
So, the rest of dinner flies by with the two of you wolfing down your meal as hastily as you can. The entire time, your mind is buzzing with a strange sort of excitement for you are confident that this is necessary in accelerating your process of recovery.
You and Taehyung started with sex, so naturally, you should end with sex.
If you are eating cookies from a jar and that jar is suddenly taken away from you, you would be overcome with a surge of anger and unjust. You will always remember that awful person who took it from you. But if you are told that the jar will be taken away and the cookie in your hand is the last one you can ever have, you will cherish this last cookie and take your time eating it. It would taste different from all the other cookies you’ve had in the past - better, sweeter, because you know that it’s the last one.
Taehyung is quiet, indecipherable as you stroll back to the room. You understand his doubt, you really do. Because a night ago, if he’d have offered you the same suggestion, you would’ve thought he’s insane. But after the incident this morning, and the sparse flirtation throughout the day, there is a clear indication of unresolved sexual tension on both ends.
End this once and for all with a bang.
“Are you really up for it, Taehyung?” You check one last time, swiping the keycard at the door. “If you’re not comfortable, then we shouldn’t.”
When you look back as you push open the door, you catch his eyes, filled with purpose and trust. “No, you’re right. We need the closure.”
As the door closes behind you after you enter, it feels final - your fate is sealed, this is happening. You both stop in the middle of the room, facing each other. Shoulders tense and fists clenched. The bed has been made from this morning, a strawberry gift basket sitting on the coffee table in the corner of your eye.
Your breath feels shaky.
“So…”
“So…”
His throat is trembling too.
You break into a smile at how pathetic you’ve both become around each other, and once you do, Taehyung observably loosens up. “What are we being so nervous for?”
He smiles too, and takes a step towards you. “I don’t know.”
Bittersweet. It’s the best way to describe how you feel right now. Because this is it.
“Do you want to get in the hot tub? It feels like a waste if we don’t use it before we go. It’s our last night here.” The buzzing beneath your skin grows as you ask, and a spark lights up in his eyes at your idea.
“Say no more.” He presses a kiss on your forehead. It’s utterly out of the blue and fleeting, but enough to make your heart leap, both from the bewilderment and the knowledge that this will be one of your last acts of affection.
Taehyung walks past you towards the glass door, peeling off his shirt in the meantime to reveal the new tone of muscle on his back that he’s acquired in the past month. “I’m going to get some alcohol.” You maunder.
Your fingers are shaking as you rummage through the wine cooled for the drink you best see suitable. A strawberry champagne catches your eye. How fitting.
You can’t explain how jittery you feel as you completely strip off your clothes. This is the last time with Taehyung. The profound significance, the pressure, the emotions, tide after tide hitting you.
Two glasses of champagne in your hand, you inhale sharply, and let it all out.
This is it. This is the conclusive ending you asked for.
Warm water bubbling up to his chest, you find him seated in the hot tub awaiting you. The boxers discarded by the side implies that it was a last minute decision of his to go completely naked. And when he notices your nude form strutting out to the patio to join him, he sucks in. The way his eyes rake down your body then back up to your face sends flutters to you core, but also a nostalgic pang.
Eye contact does not break for a second as you climb into the hot tub and sit yourself adjacent to him. The chilly evening breeze with the heated effervescing water provides the perfect ambient temperature. Taehyung accepts the champagne you hand him, finger brushing over yours in a way that could only be intentional. He’s savouring every touch.
“To Mykonos, to the heatwave, to us and our last time.” You toast. The lump in your throat almost doesn’t permit the words to be said.
“To Mykonos, to the heatwave, to us and our last time.” He repeats after you. Clink. And down the drink goes.
A sigh, from both of you. The champagne is bittersweet, too. And you feel that surge behind your nose again, the sting behind your eyes.
“Isn’t it funny how the universe plays out?” Taehyung says, gaze falling to your lips, then your neck, then collar. He slides closer to you. “The first time we kissed was in water, the Mediterranean Sea. And now, the last time will be in water too.”
You don’t say anything for you need a moment to collect the tears. Then you place your glass on the edge of the tub and waddle through the water until you are perched on his lap. He receives you like you’re made of glass, gentle hands coming around your bare back to pull you down onto him. You brush away his dark untamed curls from his face, appreciating the thickness of his hair between your fingers because you don’t think you’ll get to touch it again. His hands trail low to the small of your back; you feel yourself brush up against his member, already hard and poised.
You want to tell him that you love him, that you will always always love him. But you know you would break if you say it.
So you just lean down to kiss him.
People like to describe their kisses like electricity, fire, a bolt of lightning striking down their spine. But for you, it really isn’t like that at all. When your lips meet, it feels like your first sip of cocoa on the first day of winter warm but not hot enough to burn, feels as though you’re interlocking fingers in a crowd of busy bodies and his thumb brushes over yours to tell you it’s okay, I’m right here and I won’t let go.
And you both pull away at the same time, a string of saliva between your mouths.
Because you both feel it, and it’s too much.
But this is the last time, you remind yourselves. Last time.
So your lips fall back onto him, fuelled by a passion you’ve never felt before. His mouth is velvet, fitting over yours so perfectly that it hurts. His hand finds your face, wet from being submerged, and he holds you more tenderly than he would an infant. Your chest is imploding from every ragged breath you take between hot kisses and you just let it.
Arousal pulling at your strings, your hand snakes down his front, dips into the water and wraps around his cock. “Ah…” Taehyung groans into your mouth. Your touch swipes across his tip. “Fuck, baby.”
Baby.
That is your undoing.
His teeth find your breasts, taking your nipple and teasing it until you’re whimpering in need. The roughness of his tongue tingles your sensitive bud so much that your eyes roll back and your vision is black and dotted with stars. The water providing you with a newfound ease, you pump him relentlessly, sitting up so you can slide his tip over your clit and along your folds. Because neither of you can wait, you’re cutting to the chase. Anything else can wait until subsequent rounds.
Every time his head brushes past your clit, a convulsion shoots up you. Your thighs quiver around him as he digs his fingers into the flesh of your ass. And when you inch by inch sink down onto his cock, the euphoric stretch in your walls numbs all other sensation.
You have missed this so much. It’s been so long.
“Fuck, you’re tight.” Taehyung’s voice is shaky, breath hitched.
“It’s ‘coz I haven’t…”
You don’t have to finish the sentence for him to understand and reply, “Me neither.”
The boost of reassurance and confidence that it grants you makes you roll your hips over his. From the absence of sex the past month, your cunt has grown unaccustomed to his size. Your entire core aches, but in the best way you could ask for. The water sloshes as you gain a steady rhythm. You have to bite down onto his ear to stop the volume at which you want to cry out because you remember that you are outdoors.
Taehyung’s face burrows into your neck, panting hard, but thrusting harder. You think back to every single one of your times together, from beginning to now. Your arms encircle tighter around him as you kiss the shell of his ear.
The initial pain in your walls is beginning to trickle away, leaving in its wake the claws of pleasure running up and down your body. Taehyung’s cock performs wonders on you that no one else can - it’s just a fact that you have to accept now. Nothing will compare.
Yet you can come to terms with it. You can gladly accept that Taehyung will be the best thing you’ll ever have.
But then you feel the dampness. At first, you mistaken it as droplets of water splattering onto you so you ignore it. And amidst you bouncing onto him, you don’t notice how Taehyung’s shoulders are shuddering.
You stop.
And feel the streaks of his tears running down your neck from where his face is pressed onto.
You can’t describe the shattering in your heart when you look down to find him crying into you. You can’t speak, can’t move, can’t even cry back at him.
It leaves you in wreckages, how he’s holding you close to him still, clinging on despite your how you’ve stopped, muffled sobs cracking out of this throat.
It takes a while for you to regain your voice, but his tears are still ceaseless. “Taehyung…”
When he looks up, you’re struck with another ammunition of distraught. The redness of his eyes, the sad distortion of his beautiful features, the endless endless tears...
“Y/N, I can’t. I really can’t.” His voice is hoarse, as if he’s been screaming silently.
“I-I’m sorry, you should’ve said. I’m so sorry I didn’t realise.” You’re stupefied from the horrendous sight of a completely broken Taehyung underneath you. You immediately climb off him.
“I-” He sniffs. “I love you so fucking much. I love you more than I love myself and I can only ever love you more each day.” You feel it again, the surge in your nose, the sting behind your eyes. You’re choked up, speechless, resenting yourself for putting him through this. You want to bury your head in the water and cry until you pass out.
“Y/N, I didn’t ever want to lose you because I know I would lose myself. But then I lost you. And I lost myself.” His sobs strangle you by the throat.
“Taehyung, I’m sorry. About everything I’ve done. It’s all my fault and I will always hate myself for hurting you so much.” A single tear rolls down your face, you can’t hold it in anymore. Then a second, third. At the unstoppable oceans pouring from his eyes, you feel destroyed.
“I don’t even care about that! I’m not hurt by Junho or Jimin, I don’t care. Having to wake up every day knowing that you’re not beside me has been the most painful thing I’ve had to deal with. You are my home, Y/N. I don’t want to live in a life that you’re not a part of. I just can’t live without you and I can’t stand it. I can’t- I can’t...”
“Then don’t.”
Confusion draws his browns into a frown. “What?” His face is still warped in pain. You can’t stand it anymore either.
“Then don’t live without me.”
Your teeth dig into your lip to stop your own bawling.
All this conflict back and forth has taken such a toll on you and what for? At the end of the day, one unwavering fact stands true and untested: you love each other no matte what. So why should you let mistakes of the past keep you apart?
“What?” He says again, though understanding starts to seep through.
“I love you, Taehyung. I can’t not love you. I’m not myself if I don’t. So let’s stop this bullshit. I can’t live without you and you can’t live without me. So then let’s not leave each other again.”
You stare at each other, on this cool February night, warm water gurgling up to your collars, the cloudless night sky flaunting it’s collection of stars. And you promise to stay by each other for as long as you live.
“Okay.” That’s all Taehyung can muster.
“I’m yours, Taehyung. My heart is completely yours forever.” His violent flow of tears subside into gentle trickles.
“Okay.” He stands up in the tub, and you mirror his action. Water weeps off your skin, inviting the cold to infiltrate.
Nothing more needs to be said. Your mouths find each other the way they always do, the crashing of your lips, scraping of your teeth. A new tear rolls off Taehyung’s face and onto your fused lips, but it’s different this time. They’re tears of insuppressable joy, knowing that the taste of your tongue is entirely his, the porcelain of your skin is entirely his. You’re shivering from the temperature of the night, but you don’t feel the cold.
His hands come behind your thighs and lift you up to his face level, wrapping your legs around your torso the way he did in Mykonos. With careful steps, he carries you back into the room, past the bed, that poor couch that was collateral damage to your mutual pining, and sets you down onto the bathroom countertop.
When he finally breaks away from the kiss and takes in your beauty under the bright light of the room, there is no less than absolute adoration in his eyes. Never anything less. “I love you and I’m yours.”
Taehyung wraps the only massive white towel he can find around your wet naked body, disregarding the cold attacking his own. You frown at him, hooking him between your legs so you can fling the towel over his shoulders as well.
“I love you and I’m yours.” You say back, blotting his body dry. It’s such a simple statement, yet the meaning it holds for the two of you is so heavy. They’re the very words that you have never found the strength to say to each other, until now.
“Say that again.” You melt under his smile, not a single trace of worry to be found in your brain.
“I love you. And I’m yours.”
You twist your neck back to follow his glare at reflection in the mirror of your huddled bodies under the towel. Cheeks pushed up from glee, heads leaning against each other, and just like that - all your heartache vanishes without a trace.
“Mine?” Taehyung pecks your brow, still smiling.
“Yours.” Legs clamping around him tighter, you turn to face him. “And how are you this hard again already?” His cock’s ability to stay erect is astounding, truly.
“Don’t you know? You could breathe and my cock would be hard.” Laughter erupts both your chests and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.
Allowing the towel to drop around you, your hand slips between your bodies to clutch onto his length. Responsiveness ripples through his toned abdomen. “I want to suck…” You nuzzle your nose to his, your breaths amalgamating.
Taehyung sighs into your mouth. “But I want to-” Your grip tightens around him as you drag out a pump, eyes wide with feign innocence. “Okay, what the fuck, that’s not fair.”
“You’ll get to do whatever you want to me after.” You trail your mouth along his jaw.
“F-Fine.”
He lets you slide off the marble counter with the skin of his neck pinched between your teeth. When he realises that you’re marking him in clouds of purple, his head falls back and gives himself up as your canvas. You understand the appeal of hickeys now. For you two, it’s an agreement, a promise, an exchange of trust. You continue down his front, teeth grazing his nipples, lower and lower, kissing along the protrusion of his pelvic bone. Until you arrive at his cock.
“Do you remember the whole ice cube thing during the heatwave?” You run your finger up his length, over his oozing slit. The heatwave feels like an eon ago, but also like just yesterday.
Stiffening, Taehyung looks down. “Yes…”
“How about I pay you back for that one?” You take his shut eyes and sparse nod as compliance because you know he’s not capable of words right now.
You dash away to collect a glass of ice from the drink cooler, but on your way find something even better. Something you’ve always wanted to try.
Taehyung is slowly touching himself when you return, mildly surprised by the second item you brought back with you. “Whipped cream? Isn’t that from the gift basket?”
“You up for it?” A smirk stretches.
“Very up and very hard.” He lets go of his member and watches you drop to your knees.
To moisten him first, you slowly lap circles around his head, applying considerable pressure and letting the tip of your tongue tease at his sensitive opening. You look up when he moans, and takes his girth into your mouth, sliding his cock further and further down your throat until he pokes the back. Then you pull up with a pop, echoing within the walls of the bathroom.
You take two ice cubes from the glass, one placed between your lips, and the other to massage over your clit. The icy sensation strikes a numbing sensation into your core when it touches your bud of nerves. The cube in your mouth, you begin to trace slowly from the base of his shaft all the way up.
A string of profanities leaves Taehyung at the temperature, and seeds a satisfaction between your legs.
The ice is melting quickly from the heat of your mouth so you waste no time to guide it down to his scrotum resting on your palm. “Fuck.” He whines, his whole length twitching.
When this cube dissolves into nothing but a puddle of your tongue, you take another, ruthlessly educing those curses from him. His tip is the most sensitive part of him, so that’s where you focus on, smearing the edges of the cube around the curve of his head. His thighs tense in euphoric spasms.
The whipped cream comes next. With a few shakes of the canister, you hold his cock pointed towards yourself and view the spiral of white untainted cream unfold onto his head.
“Ah!” Taehyung yelps.
“You good?” You glance up to check that he still has a rein on his sanity.
“It just scared me.” You chuckle and place a kiss on his shaft.
“You should be scared.”
Eyes lock on his, you watch him watch you vulgarly smear the cream all over his cock with your lips. Its sweetness oozes into your mouth and sinks into your tongue. “Mmm.” You hum at the pleasant taste. Then you start to suck, the cream providing you with a lubrication that your spit has never been able to replicate. His cock glides into your mouth with such little resistance that you gag around him.
“Oh fuck, that feels so good.” He can’t look away from you, your hollowed out cheeks and large eyes as you bob your head deeper and deeper. Ribald wet sloppy noises squeaking from your mouth. “Uh fuck.”
Taehyung’s fingers entangle in your hair, guiding your motion in and out. The cream swirls in your mouth, the taste prompting you to suck harder until your mouth adheres like a second skin to his cock. He’s soon panting, even as you come up for air and to spray more cream on him.
“Yeah, keep going. Can I come in your mouth?” His eyes are almost screwed shut, but still open to keep watching. The rise and fall of his chest, and the bulging vein down the side of his cock - he’s close.
You keep sucking, relishing in the taste of the cream, the ease at which his tip glides along your throat, your own fluid dripping from your cunt.
“Fuc- Ah!” Gripping your hair tight, he thrusts hard into you as he cums, ribbons of his own cream mixing in your mouth. Taehyung’s dick pulses violently at the shaft. You watch his jaw fall open, brows pinch together, as the liquid dribbles down your throat.
You pull his length out of you with a great gasp and swallow all the remnants. “Shit. How was that?” Out of breath, you wipe the mess around your mouth with the dropped towel.
“Give me a second to recover from that, baby.” Arms on the countertop to support him, Taehyung lets his head droop back so far that his hair touches his elbows. You wet the towel at the sink and clean his slowly limping member. “Fuck that was…”
When his eyes open again, there is a fury that you know to be afraid of. He hauls you up onto your two feet and latch onto your lips, not caring about the filthy things they’ve just done to him.
“I need to be inside you.” He grumbles. “Give me five, ten minutes and I'll be ready again.”
“Hmm.” Arms sliding around his neck, you let him walk you onto the bed, hovering over you while his hands fondle your breasts that have become lonely. The insides of your thighs are slick with your arousal - that doesn’t go unnoticed.
Scissoring your folds open with his long digits, this thumb finds your clit, bulging and throbbing with desire. The vibrations coursing into you as he starts to rub compels you to arch back. You are really just a plaything when under his touch, as malleable as dough.
“Taehyung!” And for some reason, you calling out his name flips an animalistic switch in him.
With your neck fully exposed, he ceases the opportunity to nibble all over your unmarred skin, leaving angry blotches in return of your marks on him. This thumb is working quickly, the pressure at your clit superimposing second by second.
“Wait.” He lifts his head up abruptly, though fingers still going. “Do you want to sit on my face?”
Your heart jolts in excitement at the mere mention of it. “Didn’t even have to ask.” It has always been something you’ve wanted to try but never gotten around to.
Swapping positions, Taehyung reclines onto his back while you situate your knees on either side of his face. His hands grip onto your waist, guiding your descent onto his thrill-teeming face.
An incredible shock of pleasure fires up your spine when he takes your clit between his lips and sucks. This position grants him an unobstructed access to your pussy, no awkward angle, no cramping neck. So the assail he commences is totally, and unfortunately for your lucidity, merciless. His hands grapple onto your freely hanging breasts, rolling your nipples between fingertips.
Crying aloud from the ecstatic twisting sensation, you feel your eyes water. It’s almost too much, the mind warping accumulation of tension in your cunt. “Like that, Taehyung.”
One of his hands leaves your breast only to insert his digits into your dripping slit. Your thighs are aching, close to giving way; you don’t think you can withstand this tremendous stimulation.
His tongue doesn’t stop and neither do his fingers. Breathing through his nose heavily, he continues to coil your core into loops and loops of hypertension
You’re so close, so close.
And you’re there.
The pulsing waves of your orgasm sweep you away. You don’t even hear your own moans, just the roaring of your blood in your ears. Your whole body writhes above Taehyung, but your muscles don’t permit you to move off him while so ransacked by this high.
It last long, nearing half a minute before your senses come back to you.
And finally, you sag and topple over, trusting Taehyung to catch you and roll you onto your back.
“What the fuck.” You pant, low frequency pulsations still resonating down your legs, in awe of how he never fails to tip you over the edge. And the striking difference between the male and female orgasm is that, unlike Taehyung, you immediately want more when you’re done. “Taehyung, please, I need you to fuck me.”
His reply startles you. “No.” You open your eyes and find him regarding you with such reverence that only confuses you more.
“No?”
Cupping your face in his palm as he props himself on his elbow over you, Taehyung leans down and kisses your nose. Then your mouth. “Y/N.” Your temple. “I want to.” Your ear. “Make love to you.”
He paints a constellation of wet kisses all over you.
“How does that sound, baby?”
You immediately pull him back onto your own lips, a desperate craving as you kiss him back hard. “I love you.” You really do. It’s the one thing you’re the most certain about in this world.
“Ahhh.” Readjusting over you yet still keeping the close distance between your faces, he takes his cock in his hand and pumps. “You know you do to me when you say those words?” He kisses you again, so softly that his lips feel like rose petals. As he lines his tips along your entrance, you shut your eyes and prepare for it.
“I love you.” You repeat. And he sinks in.
It feels different, so entirely different from the previous time tonight. There is not an ounce of concern, of doubt, of hesitancy. You feel safe underneath him, secure.
His tender moans unravelling into songs of vulnerability. “I love you, too.” He whispers into your ear, and you understand what he means by how much these three words have an effect because them alone are almost enough to capsize you again.
His thrust, though lacking its usual roughness, does not lack in anything else. Every time he plummets into you, his mouth finds yours. Your hands are interlocked, pinned down onto the pillow. The surprising intimacy of that act overflowing to the brim. And you swear you could see heaven right then and there.
You feel nothing but love and devotion throughout.
He makes love to you over and over again this night, Valentine’s night. And despite your usual preferences, the sensations between your legs, in your chest, in your mind, are unrivaled.
Transcendental.
When it’s all over, when you’re nothing more than sweaty skin, damp hair, and hearts full of love for each other, you spend your time taking in each other’s details. His unblemished complexion. The beauty mark under the lashes of his right eye. The perfect shape of his cupid's bow that doesn’t seem humanly possible. Everything.
“What we had didn’t work, but we’re not going to repeat those mistakes again, I won’t hurt you again, I promise.” You whisper softly as you caress his cheek. “It’s all or nothing. And you have all of me.”
The glaze over his sincere eyes hasn’t left yet, though you don’t suppose your eyes are completely dry either.
You continue, “Seeing you break down like that today was… the hardest thing for me to witness. So much worse that our stupid pointless fights, and the nights where I would cry myself to sleep. And I can’t apologise enough for causing you that much pain.”
Taehyung’s eyes trailing down bashfully, and you almost worry that he’d cry again.. “I… I can’t believe the day finally came where I cried during sex…” You let out a round of laughter at what he chooses to dwell on.
“I love you so much that it makes me sick. I’m honestly disgusted and mortified by myself.” You snicker in his hair.
“Look, what about me? I love you so much that I cried during sex. Not even just a tear either. Full on sobs. I think I’m the bigger loser here.” The fact that he can joke about the situation reassures you that he’s over it. The mood once again lightens.
“All this just because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants during a heatwave.”
He pulls you closer into his rumbling chest, laughing to himself as he toys with your earlobe between his teeth.
You fall asleep in each other’s arms, for the first time as each other’s lovers. And for the rest of the nights that come after.
.
A/N: Alexa, play ‘Fuck it I love you’ by Lana Del Rey.
Thank you everyone for the incredible love and support you’ve unfailingly shown Heatwave. As my first fic, I am of course so very attached to these characters and ending this series is such a bittersweet feeling. It’s been such a lovely journey to write this couple and although I don’t plan on writing anything for them in the next few months, I won’t close off that possibility completely.
Love you!
- Kristy
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27/04/20
© Copyright 2020
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Before I Go - Part 2 (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)
A/N: so a lot of ppl asked for a part two of this and i debated writing one in the first place, so here it is!! it’s still a little angsty and i’m sorry if it isn’t great but i wanted to end it on a little happier note
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
Warnings: angsty but has a happy ending, slight mentions of harm, makes my heart hurt
Part 1 / Part 2
When you woke the following morning, instinct was the first to kick in, making you want to head to Bakugou's room so you could both start your morning with one another. But the sore ache lingering in the back of your throat reminded you of the events that had transpired the previous day.
Instead, you stayed in bed, your eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. You heard soft footsteps moving around in the halls. Soft laughter seeped through the floor as everyone met in the common room, musing about what was for breakfast.
You stayed there until everyone had left, presumably thinking that you were taking the day off sick. Only then did you emerge and stumble your way to campus, your heart feeling as though it were completely weighing you down. The lessons faded together, sounding like a mere cacophony of noise fighting against the ringing in the back of your mind.
It was hard not to glance over at your now ex-boyfriend, wondering if he was looking at you, too. Was he thinking about you? Did he even care how much he had hurt you? Did he even realise?
When lunch came around, you didn't head to the cafeteria with everyone else. You just couldn't act as if everything was okay, when your whole world was crumbling around you. Instead, you headed outside to eat by yourself under the shade of a tree, where the wind could wipe away your tears gently.
"Y/N," A voice called out to you, "what are you doing out here?"
You glanced up to find Izuku rushing towards you. His green eyes were narrowed, brows knitting together as he frowned at you. If anybody was going to realise that something was off, it was going to be Izuku. You should have realised that you wouldn't be able to hide your pain from him.
"I just wanted to get some fresh air." You lied, praying that your quivering voice wouldn't give you away so easily. "What's up?"
"I'm worried about you. You really think you can hide this from me?"
You sighed, "Of course not. It doesn't mean I won't try."
"Something happened with Kacchan, right?" Trust him to hit the nail on the head. He sat himself beside you and you felt a sense of comfort just from having a friend beside you. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"I can't." You breathed, knowing that if you even attempted to cast your mind back to the previous day, you would only break down in neverending sobs. "He just... he said some really horrid things, Izuku."
"I'm sure he didn't mean them," Izuku said softly, trying to meet your eyes with a soft smile.
Your eyes darted upwards for a brief moment, but the sight of his kind eyes only brought you to tears. You ended up spilling all of the details to him, and he simply sat beside you, holding you close to him as you choked your way through the story. His head rested upon yours, your lunch now forgotten on the floor as tears cascaded down your neck and soaked into the collar of your shirt.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N. Even if he didn't mean it, he should never have said those things to you." Izuku muttered, disdain laced into his voice. His hand rubbed your shoulder, trying to let you know that he was there for you.
At some point, your tears had stopped. But your chest was burning, your face covered in sad streaks; a dead giveaway of your true feelings. There was no way you could go back to class in such a state.
Izuku was kind enough to pass on a message that you were feeling unwell, so you returned to the dorms and hid away in your room. When you got back, you sent him a text to let him know that you were grateful.
You managed to return the next day, but it had become painfully evident to everyone in the class that something had happened. Bakugou couldn't look anyone in the eye. You refused to speak to anyone. He spent his entire week hiding out in the training room, adding more burns to a growing collection on his forearms. You sought comfort beneath your bedsheets, where your cries were muffled and the pillow caught your tears.
A week passed in this fashion, with your classmates discussing how they could help in hushed whispers when they thought you couldn't hear. As much as you appreciated their concern, you didn't really want other people to involve themselves in your problems.
As you were hiding away in bed one evening, your eyes staring at your phone screen blankly, a knock disturbed you. Your eyes gazed over to the doorframe, wondering if you had misheard; surely someone wouldn't be visiting so late.
Before you could even respond, a voice called out to you, "Y/N, I know you're in there. Let me in please; we need to talk."
Just the sound of his voice made your heart wilt. If you hadn't already cried yourself dry, new tears would have sprouted behind your eyes. You shifted beneath your bedsheets, dragging your feet as you made your way over to the door.
Your hand paused on the handle, "I don't know if I want to talk to you right now."
"Please." Bakugou's voice took on a tone that you had never heard before. There was a slight quiver in his voice, his words laced with pain. For the first time, he sounded vulnerable.
Your heart ached for the boy that you loved. Against your better judgement, you pulled open the door. His hair was dishevelled, there was a sheen of sweat covering his forehead. You could see the burns dancing upon his forearms. Instinctively, you reached out, brushing your fingertips gently across his skin.
"Don't do this to yourself anymore, Bakugou." You pleaded with him, finally meeting his crimson gaze after so long. Though his eyes usually hid how he felt, you could see the guilt in them.
"Can I come in?"
You nodded, stepping aside for him. You closed the door behind, allowing the two of you some privacy.
"I'm not even sure where to begin... Everything I said to you... It was awful, and I wish I'd never fucking said it. I'm such a goddamn asshole. I was so selfish and so angry." His words seemed to blend together; he was just fighting to spit them out. Bakugou knew he should have planned what he wanted to say beforehand, but he had so many feelings that everything came tumbling out at once. "I can't believe I could hurt you like that, Y/N. I'm so fucking sorry. Nothing I say will ever make it up to you, and I know that, but I really hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."
You murmured, "I just wanted to help you, Bakugou."
"I know. I know you did. But I was so hurt, and so angry, and so frustrated. Not only getting taken like that, but putting you and everyone else in danger when you came to save me. If something had happened to you, I would never have forgiven myself." He looked back at you, his arms hanging by his sides.
"And I'll never forgive myself for letting you be taken."
"But it wasn't your fault, Y/N."
"It wasn't your fault, either."
Both of you paused at that. Without even knowing, you both had been blaming yourselves. You felt that you had let him down by not being able to get him back. He felt that he had let you down by putting you in danger.
You spoke, "We shouldn't blame ourselves for something that the League of Villains chose to do. What happened is on them, and nobody else."
"I know." Bakugou's eyes turned to the floor. You could see that it was so hard for him; he usually liked to have control over his situations. He hated to think that there was something he couldn't fix, or something he couldn't do. "I know I need to stop blaming myself for All Might's retirement, but it's so hard."
"I know."
"It just overwhelmed me, and I lashed out at you." The corners of his lips turned down in a frown. As much as you wanted to punish him, you know that you both had suffered enough. Your hand grasped his, interlocking his fingers with yours. "I don't deserve you, Y/N, and I never will."
You pulled him into a tight hug, the tears finally spilling down your cheeks. You buried your face into his neck, finding comfort in his familiar smell of burnt caramel mixed with a tinge of sweat. His entire body felt so tense, but it seemed to melt away as you embraced him. His shoulders seemed to shake against yours and you knew that he was crying, too.
"I love you so much, Bakugou Katsuki." You breathed, pressing a kiss to his neck softly. You felt his fingers dragging across your back, trying to pull you ever closer to him. "You mean the world to me and I hate to see you in pain."
"I love you too, Y/N. I only ever want to protect you." He whispered, his voice heavy with his tears that he had fought so desperately to hold back. As much as he would have accepted your decision if you chose not to forgive him, he was so glad that you had.
"Listen, why don't you make yourself comfortable and we can watch a movie?" You suggested, finally pulling away to show him a big smile. You wiped the tears from under your eyes and he nodded, his head turned to the floor to hide the tears on his cheeks. "I'll grab us some snacks."
He mumbled, "Thank you."
With a nod, you made your way over the door. You paused, glancing over your shoulder as you asked, "Before I go, do you want anything?"
#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou#katsuki bakugou angst#bnha#bnha angst#bnha bakugou#mha#mha bakugo katsuki#mha angst#fluff#katsuki x reader
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beastars episode 23 thoughts!
some of my favorite scenes from this arc are in this ep so i've been real excited for it
this episode was super fun. as i said, its filled with some of my favorite scenes from this arc & ive been super excited to see them animated, and i dont think the anime disappointed when adapting them. this week's ep covered chapters 82, 88, the latter part of 89, 90, 91, and part of 92.
The ep opens with the moth scene, and i really loved it. I really enjoyed the way the anime adapted the part when legosi has the bug in his mouth and he's like narrating his experience of eating a bug lol. i think this whole scene was very well done and i cant wait to show it to my friends when the dub comes out lmao.
my one gripe about this scene is st i mentioned last week, that the anime made the bug eating gouhin's idea instead of legosi's. legosi is known for having unique and strange solutions to problems so in making this gouhin's idea you lose a bit of that legosi brand weirdness lol. there's also a tie-in with legosi's past and his fixation on bugs but since that got cut from this seaon it got cut from this scene too. rip.
next i wanna talk about dressgosi. a lotta ppl were worried that it'd get cut but i figured it wouldn't be. i think the anime really knocked this scene out of the park as well!!! the music. everyone's expressions. legosi's flasetto voice. all amazing lmao.
it's been known that louis hasn't been very expressive outside of going >:[ most of this season, so i'm really glad that he got to emote more in this scene. his expressions were great. i cant put screenshots of all of them here bc there's a limit to how many pics you can put in tumblr posts djlskjdlkfjsdf
when ur idiot boyfriend is back on his bullshit
i liked how they did the splitscreen so we could see legosi, louis, & ibuki's reaction's/thoughts to the whole situation lol
the way legosi's heels echo as he leaves the bar is so funny to me. A+ scene.
after this scene it's new year's eve, the night of the fight. personally i wouldve like a bit more of a buffer before actually getting into the new year's fight, but with all the rearranging and pacing issues of this season it can't really be helped that it turned out this was. it's not that big of an issue imo, just a personal preference.
we get this anime original scene of pina and riz meeting up, i think to give some plot coherence with all the rearranging the anime is doing. i think it was a nice addition.
scargosi is HEREE YEAH!!!
also!! it seems like melon & sebun has cameos in this ep 👀 rly hopin this is a sign for s3. tbh i noticed sebun on the first watch but didnt realize melon was there too until other ppl pointed it out lol.
now, im sad the anime took out legosi's new years call with haru, she already has so few moments in this arc and taking one of them out really sucks imo. but i saw some ppl suggest their phone call may be moved to next week's episode, so im gonna hold out hope that that turns out to be the case lol. also i am OBSESSED with legosi's lock screen 😭💕
they are so cute 🥺
now... it's here. the tunnel scene. i feel like the lead-up to this scene was a bit rushed. imo louis' "i like carnivores" line happened so suddenly, and didnt have the same impact as in the manga. altho to me louis' lil inner monologue about how he actually likes carnivores seemed a lil gayer lol so i still enjoyed it quite a bit.
i also rly liked louis' expressions in this scene, the way he looked/moved when he was talking about how legosi might die had me like 🥺
worried about his wolf bf
i also really liked the contrast of these two shots. ibuki towering over louis, looking large and imposing, and louis looking so small in comparison, having to look up at ibuki.
i wanna hold off my final judgement on the tunnel scene itself until we get to see the conclusion of it next week, but so far i think the anime is doing fine adapting it. i am a bit sad that it isnt playing out exactly the way it did in the manga but im curious about how it'll play out in the anime. on one hand i wanted more of the dialogue and all the buildup from that scene before the gunshot happened but on the other hand ending the ep w/ the gunshot and then the ED immediately starting was devastating and im sure it was even more devastating for anime onlies who finally made sense of the ED in this ep.
overall i loved this ep and im so excited for the last episode next week. we've got about 5 chapters left of this arc to be animated and it's gonna be such a Ride. im just hoping the anime can pace it out well.
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remember me // colby brock
A/N: this is not a request, but this is something i have been thinking about for a long time, probs since i started writing. i only finally wrote this out bc i’ve seen a lot of edit on insta that are like ‘what if your fave didn’t exist?’ and i figured this was sign for me to finally write it. if you guys want me to make a sequel to this, lmk. hope you enjoy.
prompt: everyone has forgotten colby, except her. but why?
trigger warning: angst, kinda sad, ppl forgetting colby
word count: 3567
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The day started out like any other day for Colby. Nothing felt out of place as he woke up and laid in bed for a couple minutes. He knew today was going to be one of the less crazier days for him and Sam. No meetings of any kind, and no filming either. He had gotten everything done earlier this week and he was excited to have a bit of a day off. The only thing he had planned for today was to go workout with Sam early. He glanced at his phone. 9:34 A.M. Perfect time for him and Sam to go down to the apartment's gym and get some work done.
Colby stretched as he stood up, stumbling over to his closet and changing into what he usually worked out in, a muscle shirt and basketball shorts. He trudged into his bathroom and brushed his teeth quickly, opting to take a shower after he got home from the gym. He slipped his sneakers on as he walked into his kitchen and got a water bottle from his fridge. Taking a big gulp, he grabbed his keys and headed straight down the hallway to Sam's apartment.
He knocked three times, calling out to Sam as he waited for the blonde-haired boy to open the door. Finally, Sam did, rubbing his eyes and staring at Colby confused.
"Hey dude, did you oversleep?" Colby smirked, "That would be a first."
Sam narrowed his eyes at Colby, his voice still tired. "Um, I'm sorry?"
“Don't you remember? We planned to work out this morning. We talked about it last night.” Colby replied, twirling his keys in his fingers.
“What are you talking about?” Sam scrunched up his face.
“Last night after we filmed your video, we said we should go workout this morning…” Colby chuckled lightly, “Are you okay, brother?”
“I'm sorry, but... do you have the wrong apartment?” Sam asked nicely.
Colby exhaled. “What?”
“You must be looking for someone else, dude. I have no idea who you are.” Sam mumbled to himself, “Or how you know my name…”
“Okay, ha-ha. Very funny. Come on, Sam. Let's go.” Colby stated, taking a step back to leave.
Sam insisted, his voice getting louder. “No seriously, I have no idea who you are.”
“Babe, who is that?” A voice called from inside the apartment.
Colby looked over Sam, seeing Kat walk around the corner in her pjs. Colby glanced above Kat and noticed something off but ignored it.
“Hey Kat, did Sam hit his head last night?” Colby joked.
Sam turned to Kat. “Do you know him?”
Kat took a step back, glancing at Colby quickly. “No, I have no idea who he is. Do you?”
“No, I don't.” Sam shook his head.
“What are you guys on about? Of course, you know me.” Colby hissed.
“Seriously, I have no idea who you are or how you know me. But you gotta leave.” Sam ordered.
“What?” Colby raised an eyebrow, his voice softening, “Is this some type of prank?”
“Leave now, or I'm gonna call security on you.” Sam grunted.
Colby started. “Dude what are you talking-”
Sam slammed the door in Colby's face, locking it loudly. Colby scoffed, staring at the door for a second.
If this is a prank, I'm so gonna get him back for this.
Colby rolled his eyes and went down to the gym. He couldn't wrap his head around what just happened. Why was Sam pranking him if they already filmed last night? Was he trying to film for next week now too? Was this for someone else's video?
I mean, this has to be a prank... right?
Colby shook his head, ignoring the strange thought. Of course, this was a prank. It was probably for Jake's video. Maybe even Kat's. Or Kevin's. Someone was doing it to him. He couldn't remember the last time he had pranked somebody. But whoever he did, they were probably trying to get him back now for it. And they were doing a pretty good job.
Colby jumped onto the treadmill, keeping the pace slow at first as he searched through Spotify to find his playlist. Where was his playlist? As cheesy as it was to listen to the playlist he made for fans, it was filled with his favorite songs, so he would actually listen to it a lot. But now... he couldn't find it.
Where the fuck is it?
He searched, even going to his profile, but it wasn't there. Gone, like it never existed.
Maybe Spotify is acting up. Let me just go to Youtube.
Colby clicked on the app, searching up a song he wanted to hear. Then he paused for a moment, deleting the text he had written and typing in 'sam and colby'.
No results found.
“What?” Colby murmured, twisting up his face.
He then typed in 'colby brock'.
No results found.
Colby's heart sped up in his chest, his breathing quickening. Did his channel get deleted? Why were there no results for his channel, or 'Sam and Colby' for that matter? He finally typed in 'sam golbach', and Sam's channel appeared.
Colby clicked on it, glancing around at the different layout. This wasn't the layout Sam had had before. The only time they change it is when they are starting a new chapter, and they always do it together. Maybe he changed it last minute?
He clicked on Sam's videos. Scrolling through the list of them, he noticed something weird.
Sam always included Colby in the thumbnail. But now... he was nowhere. Now someone different was in the thumbnail, like Jake, Kevin, or even Corey. But... Colby was nowhere.
What the fuck was going on?
Colby clicked on a video he knew he was in, 'This Is How He LOST The Game’. He watched through the first ad, waiting impatiently. Finally, when the video loaded, his eyes widened at what he saw.
He wasn't in the video.
Sam had started the video off like normal, showing all the guys sitting on the couch as he explained the name of the game. But Colby, who knew for a fact he was in this video, was no longer there. His spot empty.
It was one thing to pretend not to know him, it was one thing to remove him from the thumbnails. But to remove him from videos all together...
“It's impossible.” He uttered under his breath.
Colby rushed off the treadmill, no longer in the mood to workout. He ran up to his apartment, feeling his heart bang against his ribcage.
Maybe this is all a weird ass dream? Or an extremely elaborate prank?
Colby went into his closet, deciding he wanted to change out of his clothes into something more comfortable. He gazed over at the corner of his closet, where he kept all of his merch, along with the XPLR ones too.
It was empty.
“What the fuck?” Colby grabbed at the empty hangers, spinning around his closet. He threw open drawers to try and find his merch, but he couldn't find it.
Colby swiped open his phone, sliding to his pictures. He knew him and Sam had a recent photoshoot in the new XPLR merch, so as long as those photos were there, he knew everything's okay.
As he opened his photo album, a certain dread trickled through his body.
Colby never deleted anything off his phone. He wanted to keep as many photos as possible. Plus it was always good to have extra photos in case he didn't have anything to post on his Instagram. But now, every photo he had was different than it once was. He had many photos of him and Sam from their years of friendship. But now every photo that had him and Sam in it... was gone. It was no longer Sam and Colby. It was just... Colby.
I'm not doing this right now. This can't be real.
Colby shook his head, his nerves getting the better of him as he laid back down on his bed. He took some deep breaths, trying to relax. This must just be the most realistic dream he's ever had, and he just needs to go back to sleep and wake up to everything normal again.
Normal... Sam's neon sign was gone.
Colby groaned to himself, closing his eyes and getting comfortable in bed. No, this is not the time to think. I just need to sleep.
As Colby felt himself relax into sleep, his dreams that followed were confusing and dark. Nothing made sense, but all he knew was that he was in a panic.
Colby jolted awake suddenly. He could tell by the way the sun was peeking through his windows that it was later. He opened his phone. 1:34 P.M.
He sighed deeply. Colby was used to waking up on his days off this late. Everything already felt better.
Did I dream all of that? Or was that prank real?
As he slid out of bed to the bathroom, he decided to check twitter. If that was all real, maybe Sam had mentioned the prank to the fans.
Colby opened twitter and nothing seemed out of the usual. He looked at Sam's account, and noticed it was not following him anymore.
He's being extremely thorough, isn't he?
As he went to switch over to the Sam and Colby account, he noticed the icon wasn't there. His fingers twitched as he typed 'sam and colby' into the search bar. Everything but that account showed up. 'Sam and Colby' twitter didn't exist.
A nauseous feeling rolled through Colby's body. Colby went to his profile, looking through the people he followed, not even noticing the significant lack of followers he had. He knew he followed a couple fans, maybe they knew what was up. As he scrolled through, he noticed the usernames were different.
He knew a bunch of fans off-hand. A lot of fan accounts always stuck out to him; and it was easy to remember the username, especially if it was named after him.
But nobody's username was.
He saw a lot of 'Golbach', but no 'Brock' or even 'Golbrock', which he always thought was cute. Not a single username was related to him anymore.
Alright, that's enough.
He angrily clicked on his contacts, needing to call Sam and tell him to call off this prank. It was no longer funny and honestly, he didn't even want to be a part of it anymore. Most pranks he was fine with, but this one was going too far for him.
Colby gasped as he stared at his contacts, dropping his phone like it electrocuted him.
All his friends were missing from his contacts. The only people in his phone were his family, and that was it.
Colby began to hyperventilate, unable to stop the panic that surged through his body. He bore at himself in the mirror, staring at his stress-ridden face. He gripped the counter of his sink, trying to calm himself down.
If he couldn't turn to Sam, who could he turn to?
He picked his phone back up, leaning against his counter as he called his mom. He just needed to know that someone remembered him.
“Hello?” His mother’s voice sang through the phone.
Colby breathed, slightly relaxing against the counter. “Hey Mom, how are you?”
“Hi Cole-baby. I'm doing okay. How are you?” She asked sweetly.
Colby pouted. “Um, I'm feeling a bit... off, to say the least.”
“Oh no, what's wrong?” She responded.
“I know this is gonna sound like a weird question, but do you remember my friend Sam?” Colby questioned, tapping his hand against the counter.
She hummed, guessing. “Sam? Sam... Johnson?”
“What? No. I never knew a Sam Johnson.” Colby rolled his eyes, frustrated, “I mean Sam Golbach. Sam Golbach. Do you remember him?”
“No... should I?” She admitted.
His heart dropped at her words. “Yeah, you should. He's my best friend. We were friends all through high school. We started a literal career together, he's basically your third son at this point.”
“Woah, honey. What are you talking about?” She puzzled.
“You don't remember Sam? He's the whole reason I moved out here, Mom.” He urged, needing his mother to remember.
She paused, then spoke. “Colby, you moved out to LA alone. Last month.”
“What?” He choked.
“You worked all through high school and college and saved up money and just recently moved out there.” She informed.
His eyes widened. “Mom, I've lived in LA for almost five years now.”
Also... college?
“Maybe it feels like five years, but honey, you only moved out a month ago at max.” His mom’s voice softened, lowering slightly. “Are you okay?”
“No momma, apparently not.” He sighed, “Who was I friends with in high school if I wasn’t friends with Sam?”
“Honey, you didn’t have any… or none that you ever brought home.” She mentioned.
Colby queried. “And college?”
“You didn’t really talk about anyone. You were very focused on your schoolwork.” She explained.
That literally doesn’t sound like me at all. I couldn’t even pass math without Sam.
Colby glanced down at his tattoos for a second, pursing his lips. “Another quick question, I was allowed to live in our house with dyed hair, tattoos, and pierced ears?”
She gasped. “Wait what? You got a tattoo?!”
“Mom, I have like five.” Colby deadpanned.
“When did you find the time to get them?!” She hushed, “Cole, you know how I feel about tattoos.”
Colby grew tired. “So, you've never heard of a Sam Golbach before?”
“No, absolutely not. But don't try to change the subject on me, Cole Robert.” She scolded.
He huffed. “I'll talk to you later, momma.”
She sputtered. “What? Don't you-”
Colby clicked ‘End Call’, lowering his head to the counter, taking in a deep breath and holding it.
“What the fuck is happening right now?” He demanded out loud.
Colby jumped up, going to his closet and slipping on some clothes quickly. The only thing he knew for certain is that something wasn't right, and he needed to get out of his apartment and go somewhere else. Anywhere else.
He grabbed his keys and rushed down to the parking lot, getting into his car quickly and driving off.
He drove for a while, finally pulling into another parking lot and turning off his car. He needed to get something to eat, and then maybe he could figure things out. He glanced around and noticed the parking lot he was in was for a diner named Meyer's. He locked his car as he left, swinging the diner's door open hastily. The diner wasn't packed, but it wasn't empty either. A nice lull of conversations droned on as he sat down at the furthest booth, cracking his knuckles nervously.
He picked up the menu that was already at the table, staring at the front of it. He didn't even realize a waitress had walked up next to him.
"...Are you okay?" The soft voice said, breaking him out of his thoughts.
Colby stared up at the waitress, noticing her eyes first. They were captivating and beautiful, much like herself. Her hair shined brightly in the sun that basked through the window. Her smile was wonderful to see after a day of unpleasant looks.
He stuttered. “What? Uh-I. Yeah, no, I'm fine.”
She giggled. “Okay. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Um, a water. No, a soda. Please.” Colby muttered.
“Alright. Coming right up.” She nodded.
Colby stared at the menu again, gazing over the pictures of sandwiches and wraps. He wasn't really hungry, but he felt like he should just eat something, even if it was just to pass the time.
The waitress came back over with his soda, placing it lightly down in front of him. “Are you ready to order?”
“No, not yet.” Colby answered, not looking up from the menu.
“Okay, I'll be right back.” She started to walk away, then stopped and turned back. “Are you okay? I know I already asked you that but... you look really upset.”
Colby’s shoulders slumped as he gazed up at her. “I-I... don't even know how to explain it.”
“Why? Is it complicated?” She guessed.
“You could say that,” Colby glared down at the menu. “It just doesn't make any sense. It sounds fake, to be honest.”
“Well, you can tell me. I won't judge.” She smiled.
I might as well tell somebody...
“Everyone's... forgotten about me?” Even Colby was confused at his words.
“What do you mean? Like they're ignoring you?” She questioned, her hand resting on her hip.
“No. Like they literally forgot I exist. Or, I somehow don't exist in their lives anymore, when yesterday I did.” He confessed.
She shrugged. “Well, maybe they're trying to ignore you instead of talking things out.”
“No, I don't think you understand. I don't exist to them. They don't know me. Like, at all,” Colby corrected. “My best friend, my brother, the fucking dude I got arrested with, doesn't know who I am.”
“Wait, you've been arrested?” She raised an eyebrow.
“It was just breaking and entering. And having fake IDs,” He commented. “But that's not the point, the point is no one remembers me, but I remember them.”
The waitress stood there silently, awkwardly.
“I don't know what to say.” She whispered.
He gulped. “I don't know either. But if you have a solution, I'd gladly hear it.”
“Maybe it's a prank?” She speculated.
“I thought about that too. But if it is, this is extremely elaborate. And borderline impossible.” Colby disclosed.
She argued nonchalantly. “People do crazy things for social media.”
“Yeah, but even my friends wouldn't take it this far for just a dumb video.” He complained.
“Are your friends famous?” She inquired.
“I wouldn't say that. My best friend is Sam Golbach.” Colby revealed.
“Sam Golbach? Why have I heard that name before?” She asked quietly.
“He's got a lot of followers. He’s a Youtuber.” He pointed out.
“Wait, you're Sam's best friend?” Her eyes widened.
“Yeah?” He cocked his head to the side.
She gasped. “Oh! You're Colby Brock!”
“I'm what?” He stammered.
“You're Colby, right?” She doubted for a second, “Or did I get that wrong?”
Colby jumped up out of his seat. “Oh my God, you know who I am! Wait, how do you know?”
“My one friend is a huge fan of you and Sam. She showed me you guys like a month ago.” She paused for a second, smirking. “She's actually really into you... Maybe I should call her.”
“Please do. I need to know if she knows who I am.” Colby pleaded, sitting back down.
The waitress followed him, sitting across from Colby. “Of course she does, she literally has you set as her wallpaper.”
She pulled out her phone, glancing around to make sure no one was watching her. She clicked on a contact, putting the phone on the table and clicking ‘Speaker’.
“Hello?” A voice broke in through the phone.
She grinned, staring up at Colby. “Hey Sara, you need to come down to the diner real quick.”
“What why?” Sara questioned.
“Colby Brock is here.” She announced.
Sara remarked. “...Who?”
“Colby Brock, the guy you're in love with.” She repeated.
“I have no idea who you're talking about. I've never heard that name before.” Sara denied.
“He's Sam Golbach's friend.” The waitress described.
Sara exclaimed. “Oh my God, is Sam there?! Because I’ll-”
She interjected. “No, he’s not.”
“Oh... then I don't want to come.” Sara recalled, “I've never heard Sam talk about a guy named Colby before.”
Colby swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes falling off of the waitress’.
She fretted. “Okay then. I'll talk to you later.”
“Alright, bye.” Sara ended, hanging up the phone.
After a moment of silence, the waitress stated, “I'm sorry about that.”
“What's there to be sorry about?” Colby quavered.
The waitress scoffed suddenly. “Is this some kinda joke?”
“What?” He queried.
“Are you pulling a prank on me? Was Sara in on it? Because I’ll kill her if she met you and didn’t tell me.” She jeered jokingly.
Colby shook his head, deadpanning. “I haven’t met Sara, and I’m not pranking you.”
“How can I know if you’re lying or not?” She questioned, squinting her eyes.
“Google my name. Search me on any social media,” Colby suggested. “I don’t exist.”
“Okay…” She agreed.
The waitress quickly typed in his name into Google, coming up with no images that looked like him. None of his social media links came up either.
She gazed up at him slowly. “This is really weird.”
“You’re telling me.” Colby uttered, “No one remembers me.”
She blurted. “But I do.”
“Yeah… why is that?” He inquired.
“I-I don’t know.” She sputtered, confused. Then she jolted up from her seat instantly. “I-um, gotta go help out my other tables. Do you need me to give you some time to look over the menu?”
“Yes…” He continued, “But one other thing.”
“Sure.” She leaned in, her hands resting on the tabletop.
“Can you help me? Please?” Colby begged, lightly grabbing her hand.
She silently gasped, whispering, “How?”
“I don’t know. But I think you’re the only one that can.” Colby divulged.
The waitress stuttered, but no words fell from her lips.
He exhaled, staring into her eyes. “So, will you?”
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#colby brock#colby brock fanfiction#colby brock fic#colby brock fanfic#colby brock angst#colby brock x reader#colby brock x oc#colby brock oneshot#colby brock one shot
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remember when I was gonna write that parkner fic?
cool so I've decided I'm gonna, but because I cannot write for SHIT and I hate my writing every time I see it, ill just share my outline of what I have so far. its not coherent. sorry.
Section one: aunt may dies. It’ll be like “it's been 3 months. 3 months since May was shot. 2 months and 3 weeks since she died.”
Something like that idc. Basically this section will base around peter living tony, because he’s not doing well, and he is only 17- which is not actually old enough to be on your own after something like this. Setting is established, with cameos from dr strange (who tony is dating and lives with (yeah bite me, this is my fanfiction i can make it what i want.) it will be made obvious that this takes place after endgame, which also means that tony is Not going to die. I’m not that mean lmao. The avengers are like largely together, there was not as much death in this as there was in endgame. Whatever. Everyone is very nice to peter because they know that for him its either this or him becoming a ward of the state so like.
Section two: harley gets kicked out. His mom finds out that he’s gay (from gossip sources idk) and kicks harley out. Im not going to write them having a big fight like in the moment, but harley will recount what happened somewhat to tony in this section, and then more to peter later in the story. Gay ppl trauma dump, we know this. Okay anywaysss so harley calls tony literally sobbing and like freezing fucking cold. IM SORRY IM BEING SO MEAN TO THEM I PROMISE THEY'LL GET A HAPPY ENDING. Okay. harley explains how his mom kicked him out. Tony asks why, harley says something like “she didn’t agree with my lifestyle choices” like bitterly. Tony is a good person in this (i know, im really taking some character liberties) and he’s in the mood for collecting strays apparently, so he has happy send over the quinjet. He can’t make it himself bc hes in fucking japan or something for the next few weeks,, but. Yeah! Tony also calls peter, who is presumably in bed and feeling depressed. “Hey pete. How ya feeling? Any better?’ ‘Not really, tony. Sorry.’ ‘you don’t have to be sorry-’ ‘damn tony you sound like my therapist.’ “sorry pete, but i do have something to tell you- you know harley?’ ‘only from what you’ve told me about him, but yea. He was the tennessee garage kid, right?’ ‘i mean. Yes. so- he’s gonna come stay with me for a while too- it might not be permanent but it will probably be a bit. He’s about your age, and he just has no where to go (just like u). He’s not going to stay in your room or anything, but with bruce and thor here, he will be in your apartment area.’ ‘okay tony.. Will i have to talk to him a bunch?’ ‘not if you don’t want to- i already warned him about you, so it should be okay. I wouldn’t worry so much pete- you guys are so similar in a lot of ways that i wanted to introduce you two long before he called me.’ ‘okay tony, i trust you. Thank you again for letting me stay with you :)’ (yeah that kind of got away from me)
Section 3: build up. this is a shorter section. Harley and peter are gonna meet in section 4. This section is harley’s jet ride (with an intuitive happy) and harley’s nerves about how he really isn’t worth this (i mean hes pretty intimidated tony sent a private jet just for him) and happy like reassures him. Hes still insecure though. Peter is also nervous bc what if harley doesn’t like him? What if he doesn’t like harley?? Tony did say they would get along, but peter hasn’t really been himself recently, so who knows? Yeah lots of that. I do want to emphasize though- peter is not completely unhealthily coping. Like he has a therapist and he has been reaching out to ned and mj, but its still an open wound for him. Obviously. He still has a sense of humor though, but its to cover these deep insecurities. Like the first month or so that he was with tony, he was reallllyyyy trying to not get close to him bc he sort of thinks he kills everyone around him. Like logically he knows this isn’t true, but he does really think the that non superheroes that he surrounds himself with are very at risk if they know about his spider-man-ness. The only people who know now are ned and mj (may knew too).
Section 4: the meeting of harley and peter. Keep in mind peter has been living in this apartment/area of stark tower for about 3 months now. He actually moved in while may was in the hospital because he couldn’t stand to be alone in the apartment when he knew why may wasn’t there. And um. Yeah. so peter is like comfortable in this space, basically. Also- the reason theyre in the same apartment is because stark tower was not really created with the idea of housing broken orphans in mind, so it only has a certain amount of residential space. Thor and bruce are currently staying there together (although no one really knows if theyre together, or if theyre just best bros who went through some extreme trauma together and are now inseparable. Hmmm wonder if thats gonna come up later) and theyre using one apartment, and happy lives there with his own apartment, and tony and stephen are currently sharing the penthouse, even though thats not public knowledge. Really only the people close to tony know that he’s dating stephen. So. this leaves just the one other 2 bedroom apartment for peter and harley. It has one bathroom, and the bedrooms are connected by a door but theyre pretty big so like. Theres a kitchen, a living room with a fancy ass tv, and a really pretty view (with a balcony bc <333). May died in march, peter got leave from the school in april, and it is now the middle of june btw. Tony is now peter’s official guardian (he was before may died anyways) and now has sole guardianship over him which he has fully accepted, even though peter and him both know that there are going to be times where he has to go out of town bc he does own a company after all. Times like right now. Harley is pretty nervous that tony isn’t going to be there to greet him and that he is going to have to like introduce himself to peter and everything. Cmon, theres no reason to feel like that, he’s the one intruding after all, he should at least be able to handle himself. (<--- harley’s thoughts). Yeah so theyre insecure super cool. A n y w a y s so peter was stressing about harley as he arrived, and so when harley walked in they were both complete bundles of nerves. Harley walks up but knocks. Peter actually jumps (bc spidey sense okay whatever) and goes to get the door. Oh my god these awkward teenagers i hate them so much (i love them). Peter kinda looks like shit, sorry king. He was a little bit crying earlier, then tony called and he switched into stressed out ball-of-anxiety mode. Distractions are good, its okay. Peter opens the door for harley and they like introduce each other all awkward (again sorry) and peter shows harley where he is staying. Harley doesnt really have muchhhh bc he was kicked out and all. He just has a suitcase full of clothes, his favorite blanket, his favorite stuffed animal (yeah whatever bc ofc he does) and his phone/charger. He sets all his stuff down at once. He thanks peter for letting him stay in his apartment and also said sorry. First thing peter noticed was harley’s accent. Stfu. peter asks why harley’s here- ok. Harleys had a long ass day. Too fucking long. He- he breaks down. He tells peter a lot. About how his mom found out that he was gay, and how she told him never to come back. Yikes. Anyways, this is establishing the beginning of their relationship as friends. Peter is there for him even though he doesn’t know him at all. Peter sees some of himself in harley in this moment, even though he’s not talking about himself yet. Eventually harley does ask about peter, and they really just get to know each other really quick. They have these deep scarring individual traumas, and neither has nearly recovered, but they find comfort in just knowing that theyre not alone in their suffering. At least for now. At least in this moment.
Section 5: the next day. Peter and harley spent that whole night talking about what they were going through. Peter said good night at around 5 am (there were no adults around they can do what they want to) and they both got good sleeps. In peter’s case, one of the first solid nights he’s had in a while. Harley was kept up a little longer after peter left, however, because he just couldn’t shut off his mind. It was really cathartic for him to just lay everything out there and for someone to just accept him. Peter told him he was bi, but he was.. Lucky. He had accepting people in his life. May was accepting. God, harley couldn’t fathom having lost everyone in his life, everyone he ever cared about, and still having the heart to sit and talk with the dumbass anxious gay kid who can’t go home anymore. His problems felt so small compared to peter’s, and all he could do was admire peter’s resilience and how he was seemingly able to bounce back from anything. God, peter was something. He couldn’t wait to get to know him more. With that thought circling in his head, he finally went to sleep at oh shit 6:30 am. Peter woke up around 1. Harley at 2. When harley woke up, peter was watching tv and eating cereal on the couch and he just sat down next to him. No words, just sleepy children being sleepy. They stayed like this for like an hour when someone knocked on their door. Enter stephen strange!!!!!!!!!!! Get excited people. Hes just coming in to check on them bc tony told him to, and he didn’t get the chance last night bc he was _busy_. K so now he’s here and hes awkward and he just wants to make sure these boys r okay bc theyve both been through too much recently, and it would be just the cherry on top if they didn’t get along. Him and harley had never actually met before so he like introduced himself and all that. Offered like if they needed anything he was there, and its only gonna be a few days until tony gets back (did i say a week earlier? Im retconning that bc i cannot find it in my writing so it is now retconned). Peter and harley just have to sort of explain to dr strange that theyre getting along gREAT and there is no need for concern….. And peter was even thinking about showing harley around the city a bit that night (something he had not yet told harley, but wanted to make it seem like he was doing well and not acting too depressed in front of Dr. Strange) so dr strange is like yeah !!!!!! do that, that sounds super fun petey !!!!!! and so now they have evening plans
ok ps I wrote this like 2 weeks ago and completely forgot I posted something on Tumblr about this fic idea, and so this is literally just how I talk to myself. was not gonna ever post this but then I decided to because I'm bored. there are more sections but I'm not gonna post them rn because this post is really fucking long already!!!!
#hope this is marketable??#sort of just wanted to share my 4 am writing tbh#it doesn't make sense just go w it#parkner#peter parker#harley keener
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(I think it's a word over 500, but:)
"Speaking of Tsukishiro, how's he doing?", Eriol asks. Frying pan to fire to volcano.
"He's good," Touya says quickly, before Sakura can say anything. Yukito is not even in the ballpark of "good". Yesterday he called Touya and begged him to bike over and said it was important and when Touya showed up he was asleep, and stayed fast asleep right through to the next morning. He keeps trying to make appointments with doctors, and then falling asleep before he can call, or, when Touya calls for him, before he can make it out the door. Privately, Touya isn't sure how much good a doctor can do for him, but anything has to be better than this, right?
"Really? I'm glad to hear it." Ugh, how much has Sakura told him. Not that she doesn't have a right to talk to her friends, but, come on, would it kill her to least keep it between her and Tomoyo and the funny looking cat.
He's good, that's an obvious lie. Ruby has said Yukito could barely stand upright at school. Every inch of Touya Kinomoto is packed full of magic. Sooner or later, Eriol figures, either Sakura will be powerful enough to sustain him, or Yue will have to get over himself and just eat already. Touya can't actually do anything with his magic, so it's not like Yue, even weak as he is, will have to face much of a struggle to take it. (Aside from competition with Ruby, of course. There's something to that, right, articles and studies about animals being healthier if they need a bit of careful planning to get their food? Yes, so this works out nicely.)
Or maybe- oh, that's probably it. Yue's on to him, isn't he? He's just being stubborn as usual, figuring sooner or later Clow will appear via Eriol and save him. He can imagine how surprised, overjoyed, grateful Yue would be, if Eriol showed up and saved his life. He can imagine Yue's head resting on his neck as clearly as if he had kept Yue well-fed with magic a thousand times in his lifetime. It would be nice, in the short run, but it wouldn't be right, no. Clow is dead, and Yue needs to learn to live with that. If he knows what's good for him, he will take responsibility for his own life, and if he doesn't...
Ahh, well, maybe it's Clow's old sentimentality, maybe Eriol is just warming up to Sakura's moon guardian all on his own, but he can't bring himself around to the idea of letting Yue just die. He'd save him, if it came down to it. But, he tells himself sternly, only as an absolute last resort. He's just worrying because he misses Yue and wants to get to know him better all at once in that past-and-future way- it's worth a visit, soon. Yes, a nice little visit, and Yue will never even have to know it happened. Just to check in.
(sorry the formatting got weird when i copypasted lol!)
hiiii thanks for the ask!!!
if we talk about this convo we need to back up and talk about how it got here. this should give you some idea of how badly this needs to be under a cut for length lol.
so it all starts with the bit about how someone falling and being caught is something that happens a lot in ccs. how with eriol, it's purposeful, and with fujitaka (and i misremembered it but since found out she fell *on* him and not *caught* by him, which lolol i hope he broke a bone, but also its fine the fic's already marked canon divergent, or maybe the story gets misremembered, whatever, in any case), it's an echo of clowriol's intentional artificial-trustbuild-dangersaves but without the magic or purpose to back it up (just like fujitaka himself!), but it's a situation he quickly makes favorable to him, because it may be a blank slate but it's made of the same material.
this whole convo was part of one of the very first chunks written, but everything was going to go in a very different direction at first. (there's a lot of Cut Content from this fic, some that i just didn't like, some that wasn't connectable with the rest of the fic after it took the shape it took but might pop up somewhere else one day idk). in this particular bit i cut the later half of the conversation because i really didn't like what i'd written, but then even though the direction of the story changed the conversation was still going so it had to bounce somewhere else, so it bounced to yukito. here we are answering your ask 2 paragraphs in!
yukito, iirc in the anime, did catch her from a fall, (in the manga, which made way more sense for why she had to change her clothes and rest so much, he saved her from drowning, again iirc because who can trust a memory) and at a point where eriol still has some investment in making yuekito/sakura (ewwwww) happen, he's going to try and draw on that symbolism to nudge her in that direction, right?
so all this said, SPEAKING of yuekito. how are they doing.
bad, obviously. touya's freaking out. i imagine that part of what's stopping yukito from seeing a doctor is yue, though- he knows it wont help, and i dont think yukito has, like, person insides that will stand up to medical tests, and yue would pick up on yukito like, not wanting to be outed to the doctor as a magic construct because he, like, doesnt actually have a real heart that pulses, just a repeating heartbeat sound. doesn't for real have blood etc to test, just records of blood type (for personality reasons).
and also touya's a very like keep-ur-problems-not-everybodys-business type so hes like imagining sakura venting her fears to this weirdo and getting pissed off. but that didnt actually happen, eriol knew all on his own lolol. touya you have to say something nice should happen to sakura to make up for wrongly suspecting her now
and this bit on eriol's end is all wrong information and inaccurate conclusions and i was really worried ppl would take it at face value but i hope nobody did. in ccs we get moments where eriol wants sakura to take power, or to learn that power can be taken- his final battle with her, for example, where the answer to his light and dark puzzle is to use kero and yue's power, except that's not something she would ever Want to do or would even Occur to her to try. the power is gifted to her by kero and yue (and syaoran!) because they love her.
same concept, here- the answer to the 'yue is dying' puzzle is to eat touya's power, and he can't imagine the real reason why he won't just do that, and when he thinks about it too long it goes right to his ego- yue looovvvvesss clow, and by extension me. he wants meeeeeee to save him. he wants to neck kissy MY magic soo sooooo bad. but yue isn't considering any of that at all. he's thinking about yukito and what touya means to yukito and why that would make yukito hesitate to reach out, and that no way in hell will he just ambush his other self's crush down a dark alley and take his magic, even to save both their lives. he's a lot more selfless than clow and eriol ever realize. maybe- this is just a half formed thought right now, i dont know if im like certain about it, but- maybe they feel his devotion to clow was a form of selfishness, that he Wanted Love as a thing he could hold and own, whereas pretty much everybody else who meets him goes like YOU SELFLESS MAN YOU CANT JUST DIE FOR PPL YOU CARE ABOUT YOU GOTTA TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF TOOOO
and there’s also that bit of teacherliness intrinsic to the three of them again: im doing this to teach him a lesson. im letting ruby do her thing without telling her what’s going on to help and encourage yue, etc.
anyway, that (in terms of fic weaving itself into canon) solidifies his decision to do uhmmmm a thing that creeps me out real bad in the anime (knocking yue out to have a moment with him, and oh, ding, there's another 'you fell but i caught you' moment!). eriol loves this manner of hanging out with people, you see it later in this fic, even:
It's important to say what's in your heart to the people you want to say it to, even if you have to make sure the other person never hears it. It's important for your own emotional freedom.
he loves to spend time with people exclusively on his terms, to the point where the other party never even knew he was there, because he knocked them out, or because he was just staring creepily at the outside of sakura's house while she did homework, etc etc etc.
tldr: it's all connected, aaaaaaaaa
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heyyy, it's me again :) so,, since the requests are open, can i have how noya, tsukki & kageyama (my fav karasuno bois) helping their s/o who's struggling with school and stuff. like they go to her house and shes crying, and when he asks why is she crying she says "idk" bc basically, that's happening to me now, and I need some fluff to have serotonin 😔😔💕 love u!!
school can b like that sometimes 😔
i don’t usually struggle with schoolwork but when i do it’s >:(
Yuu Nishinoya
it’s a normal day. not too cloudy, not to sunny, perfect for a date!
nishinoya thinks back to you, noticing that you seemed a little distracted at school today
he asked you multiple times what was wrong but you always responded with “oh no im fine!“ so he assumed you were just having a bad day :((
so to try and make you feel better, he decides to text you!
short king💕: HEy! be ready in 15 mins!! we’re going out to eat >:))
he found it kind of odd you didn’t see his message, but maybe you were just taking a nap or doing hw!
cut to him rushing over to your house bc our bby is excited!! it’s been awhile since he’s taken you somewhere so now that he has the chance to he’s pumped up!
he calls you multiple times on his phone ready to tell you he’s outside, but you don’t answer
now our bby boy is confused. he’s like?? where are you?? i just wanna go out and eat??
he looks around your house and notices your window is open
somehow, he manages to reach your window and sees you hunched over your table looking at something
he sees that your phone is on your bed charging, so now he understands why you wouldn’t answer!
“(y/nnn)!! let’s go out to eat!“
you turn around so fast
like “wHO ARE YOU AND HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO GET INTO MY ROOM??- oh hi noya“
he immediately freezes once he notices your eyes are red and puffy
better believe he’s going to rush over to you and ask what’s wrong, what made you upset, etc.
you have to wait awhile before he calms down so you could explain what was wrong
“today we had a test and i didn’t get the score i thought i’d get... i thought i’d at least get a passing grade but guess not, so im trying to study for the makeup test so i could do better this time :((“
he has a moment of realization and you swear you could literally see a lightbulb go off above his head
he finally understands why you were so upset earlier!!
now that he understands why you were sad he’s gonna do everything in his power to make you feel better
“how long have you been studying for?“
“since i got home..“
“(y/n) that was 3 hours ago...”
finds out you haven’t even taken a break and he’s about to throw hands
he cares about you a lot and wants you to take better care of yourself!!
he saw how hard you were working on trying to get a better grade and knew you needed a break, so now he’s definitely taking you out on that date as a reward for your hard work
“alright, you’re taking a break now! too much studying will break your head!!“
practically drags you out your front door. he didn’t even give you a chance to get ready, y’all left exactly how you were
he takes you out to buy your favorite food because even if you didn’t pass, you tried your best and that’s what matters
he would try his best to study with you, but we all know he isn’t the smartest when it comes to academics,,,
will give you lots and lots of kithes when he sees you finally got the score you wanted as a reward for your hard work :))
Kei Tsukishima
during school tsukki noticed that you were acting a little odd. normally you’re the one to initiate conversations with him, but today you were just quiet
immediately knew something was up, but didn’t say anything because maybe he was looking into things too much
time skip to lunch and tsukishima is looking for you, because he wants to eat his lunch with you!!
imagine his surprise when he sees you studying?
he’s like “what are you doing, are you trying to be a nerd now?“
you jump because you weren’t expecting him to find you so fast??
your plan was to study a bit before you ate your lunch with tsukishima but obviously that wasn’t going to happen today
tsukishima finds it kind of weird that you were studying during school hours because you never do that? but once again he stays quiet because hey maybe you just want to improve your grades or something
the day passes by normally for the both of you, but tsukishima still can’t shake the feeling that something is up with you
so after practice he decides to head over to your place
he parts ways with yamaguchi and begins heading over to your house to see you
he’s lowkey a little excited because he doesn’t come over to visit you much so he had lil butterflies in his stomach
your parents open the door and when they see him they immediately greet him happily and let him in
i headcannon that parents just love tsukishima idk why
tsukishima doesn’t even knock, he just opens the door to your room
when he sees you crying he just stares, extremely confused
when you notice someone’s entered your room you look up and through all the tears you see your boyfriend standing in your doorway, confused af
you quickly wipe the tears from your face, already knowing that hiding your face from him would not work because he definitely just saw you crying
you try and play it off tho
“ah! tsukki! what’re you doing here ahahha-“
he slowly walks over to you and sees your notebook fills with notes along with other worksheets filled with information
he closes your books and pushes away all the loose papers on your desk
right as you’re about to ask him why’d he do that for he immediately hugged you
it was kind of an awkwardly positioned hug tho? you were sitting down on a chair and he was standing so your face was against his stomach
he asks you if you were crying because of school work but did he really need to ask?? he already knew the answer-
he suddenly becomes sweet towards you? like he still teases you but not as much because he knows you’re sad rn :((
offers to tutor you if you really need to help, he’ll use it as an excuse to spend more time with you!
if you get a problem right your reward is his kithes
if his teammates see him tutoring you they’re gonna be like “awe“ because he barely agreed to tutor hinata and kageyama and he couldn’t stand them
they’ll clown him a little bit
speaking of them they’re probably gonna complain about it
“tsukishima you’re so mean! why does (y/n) get tutoring and not us :((“
insert sugamama smacking hinata for his comment
you get girlfriend privileges bc tsukishima is vv soft for you :))
Tobio Kageyama
im sorry but our dumb dumb kageyama probably wouldn’t notice how sad you seemed
hinata probably said something along the lines of “hey did you have a fight with (y/n)? she seems sad :((“
it’s not that he doesn’t care!! trust me he really does he’s just mostly focused on volleyball and doesn’t know how you feel unless you tell him
after hinata says that he starts to focus on you more, trying to see if what hinata said was true
if you DO seem sad, he’s gonna panic because he doesn’t know what to do
if you DONT seem sad bc you’re good at hiding your emotions, then he’s gonna call hinata ‘ bOkE!1!!1 ‘ because how dare he assume something about his gf
regardless of those things tho, he’s gonna start paying attention to you in general. he’s gonna try his best to understand your emotions because he doesn’t wanna upset you more!!
you’re most likely gonna feel his stares him a mile away. ppl are gonna think he hates you but in reality,, he’s just trying to understand your mood
one day while at school he noticed that you didn’t come. took him awhile to realize,, it was actually one of his teammates that said “where’s (y/n)? they aren’t with you?“ and he went into a mini panic mode because they’re right where’d you go?
realized that you weren’t at school and texted you
poor babey seemed lost without you because he spends most of his time with you
emo blueberry💙: you’re not at school? do you feel ok?
when you see his text you start to feel better because you know that he loves you and he’s worried bc you’re not there with him
kageyama begins to look back on his days spent with you
generally you seemed happy with him but there were times where you’d let your smile slip just a little
idk why but i headcannon that when it comes to relationships he’s vv inexperienced and doesn’t know what to do
as much as he’d hate to admit, he asked hinata it if he noticed anything off about you
when hinata tells him that you seemed distracted during breaks kageyama begins to do his journey on trying to find out what’s wrong
he asks his upperclassmen for advice and he actually uses what they say
after class he takes it upon himself to go to all of your classes to pick up any homework you might’ve missed
during practice you’re all he can think about which causes his sets to be a little off
daichi, being the kind dad he is, let’s kageyama leave early to go see you
kageyama enters your home and heads to your room. as he’s about to knock he hears sniffles clearly coming from you and he goes into panic mode
quickly opens your door and you two kind of just stare at each other awkwardly like,,
“uh, hi?“
he doesn’t understand how you could be so chill?? like you’re literally crying yet you’re acting as if you’re not
immediately asks if you’re alright, why you’re crying, etc.
once you tell him it’s because you don’t understand your schoolwork, he nods. he understands how you feel because he himself isn’t as good
he’ll tell you how it doesn’t matter if you don’t understand the material as fast as others because everyone learns at their own pace
he’ll slowly initiate a hug? it might be a little awkward because he doesn’t seem like he knows what he’s doing he really doesn’t but he hopes that it makes you feel better :((
he’ll drag you away from your studies for a bit if you haven’t taken a break and he’ll just cuddle you
AGAIN!! it might be a little awkward but pls he’s trying his best ok :((
if you end up falling asleep he’ll give you a little kith on your forehead :))
haikyuu mlist
requests open
#hq kageyama#hq nishinoya#hq tsukishima#hq tsukki#haikyuu nishinoya#haikyuu kageyama#haikyuu tsukishima#nishinoya yuu#tsukishima kei#kageyama tobio#nishinoya x reader#tsukishima x reader#kageyama x reader#tsukishima is soft for the reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#bean writes
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Pilgrimage
I made a fun & friendly post about considering all the fates worse than death for a tragedy, and I got to talking to myself about it. Self, I said, if you were asked to write a terrible fate worse than death for these boys, what would it be? Well about that…
- - -
Georgie hasn’t been to visit Jon since the apocalypse ended. Or, before that probably, she certainly hadn’t been popping in for a cuppa when she was trying to cut him out of her life. But then the world ended, and then unended, and Melanie has been insisting on having him around for dinner, or to go on a shopping trip, or just to visit the Admiral. Because they’re friends. Because this is what friends do: meet up, talk, and make sure their other friends aren’t alone.
Melanie’s been to visit Jon. Georgie hadn’t gone with her.
The… place where he lives is too creepy, she thinks. It was probably creepy back when Smirke built it, it was extra creepy when it was some impossible tower, and it’s still creepy now, even if it’s fallen down to earth. The Eye’s tower.
-
“So this is it? The Panopticon, or whatever?” Georgie felt Melanie’s hand shaking, and tightened her grip.
“…yes. I’m afraid so.”
Martin rolled his eyes. “See what I said about him being ominous?”
-
Jon opens the door before she knocks. It’s either some remnant of power in him, or he’d been watching out the window after Melanie called him. Georgie doesn’t ask.
“Hey, Jon.”
“Georgie. Hi.”
She steps inside, then stops. “Shoes on or off?”
“Oh, er… on. I haven’t quite finished cleaning all the… Shoes are probably better on.”
-
Jon was panting, standing over the nearly-empty chair where Jonah Magnus once sat. Martin laid a hand on his arm. “You did it, Jon. He’s gone.”
“That’s it? All done? You killed the big bad guy, so the apocalypse ends?”
He barely even winced at her tone. “It’s—I don’t think it’s going to be quite that simple—”
“Then why are we here—”
-
“Melanie sends her love, by the way.”
“Does she?”
“Yes.” She holds his gaze as levelly as she can. He just grins at her, holding his hand palm-out until she rolls her eyes and reaches into her bag. “Fine, and she sends her latest batch of halwa.”
“Thank you,” he says, plucking the container out of her hand and immediately popping it open to try a piece. “Mm… you can tell her she’s almost as good as my grandmother now.”
Georgie can’t hold back her laugh at that, short and disbelieving and a laugh, which she wasn’t sure she’d ever accomplish here. “Your grandmother always bought halwa at the store, you told me so—”
“Ah, yes. But I haven’t told Melanie, have I?”
“Jonathan Sims!”
-
It hurt. She’d thought she was immune to fear, to the fears, and maybe she was, to smaller ones. Normal ones. Real ones. But every ounce of impossible, enormous Fear that had clawed its way into their universe was bearing down on the tower at once, and Georgie wasn’t afraid, but it hurt.
“What now? What do we do? Jon, Jon, what happened, what do we do?”
“I…” She could see a trickle of blood coming from his nose… his eye… Hadn’t Martin said Jon couldn’t See anything about the Fears? Was that what he was trying to do? “I think… we can still stop it, maybe, but it’s… the tower, Jonah’s throne…”
“What do we have to do?”
-
They make it through about an hour, sharing out the halwa between them and chatting, about the books Jon finally has time to read, about the podcasts Georgie’s gotten Melanie into, about the really huge rug Jon’s planning to order when he gets everything cleaned up enough. It’s… it isn’t normal, but nothing’s really ever going to be normal again, is it? But it’s almost nice.
Except then she has to go and say the halwa’s made her thirsty (and it is sweet and dense and perfect, Melanie did an amazing job and she’s going to rat Jon out as soon as she gets home, and Georgie really cannot eat something that sweet at her age without something to wash it down). And then Jon gets up to make tea. And stops at the cupboard, and pulls out three mugs.
He doesn’t look at her, keeps his eyes on the kettle, on the mugs, on the tea bags, on his hands. But eventually he says, low but clear: “Whenever I make tea, I. Um. Bring some to him. He can’t really drink it, but it helps me feel better.”
And what can she say to that?
-
Jon stared at the seat, the throne, horror dawning on his face. She could tell—they all could tell—that he Knew what to do. He just had to tell them.
Martin grabbed his arm, shook him, spun him around to look at them. “Jon. I know this is—hard, for you. But what do we need to do?”
“Not us. Me. What I need to do. Someone touched by the eye, and who more than me?” He was biting at his lips, and she recognized the rhythm, from when he was stressed from essay after essay and trying to calm himself. “I have to take his seat. There has to be a king.”
“If there’s a king—” Melanie’s voice was strained, from the fear or the Fear, and Georgie tightened her grip again “—then wouldn’t it just be the same? Someone ruling over this, this ‘ruined world’?”
Jon was already shaking his head. “No, not if it’s now. Not if it’s someone who wants to stop it. Dream logic, remember? Except.”
“Except?” Melanie prompted.
“Except they won’t be able to leave. They’ll be—be trapped in the fear forever. In everyone’s fears, forever. Like I was, with the dreams, but for seven billion people—”
Georgie couldn’t help the gasp at that. “The dreams like we—with you watching all the time—”
“—or, more like our journey here, when we went through all those domains,” he continued, as if he couldn’t hear her. Maybe he couldn’t, with all his attention locked on Martin, drinking him in like it would be the last time he ever saw his face. “Because, because it’s here, and I said—Martin, I told you at the beginning, the eye can’t see inside itself, so I’d be—”
“Alone,” Martin whispered. “Always watching, and alone.”
-
She goes with him. Of course she goes with him. On some level, that’s what this visit has been about—seeing Jon, sure, but also seeing… Martin.
Martin is the whole reason Jon’s here, after all. Living in the ruins of the Panopticon. Living at all.
Georgie doesn’t look away. Doesn’t wait in the other room (the little living space Jon had made with curtains and boxes and a folding divider Melanie found for him), safe and ignorant. She knows Jon wouldn’t blame her. Might encourage her, if she brought it up, even if she said she had to go.
She thinks she might blame herself if she did.
It’s still difficult to stand there and watch without some kind of distraction, though, so she does bring her tea with her. Bobs the bag up and down (Jon remembers she likes to leave it in even after she adds sugar and milk, like some kind of monster, he’d teased back in uni, before that word became so damn loaded), clinks the spoon against the side.
She’s trying not to stare, but there’s not a lot else to look at, besides… there’s not a lot else to look at. He must have brought that little end table in here pretty soon after moving in, set it up next to the chair with a lamp and a book and… a pillow on the floor next to it.
She doesn’t ask.
Now Jon sets the third mug down and carefully, carefully pries Martin’s hand off the arm of the chair, pushes his fingers to curl around the mug, guides them down together to the table. He keeps one hand on the mug, like he’s afraid Martin will move suddenly and spill it. Maybe it’s happened before.
There’s only so long she can avoid looking, of course. And Martin looks… a lot like the last time she saw him, just after the end of the end of the world. Very, very still, sitting upright, although Jon’s gotten him some cushions and a blanket since then. His eyes are still wide, too wide, and staring at nothing. At everything. At everything but what matters.
And his lips are slowly, slowly moving.
-
“But why does it have to be you! It’s always you! The whole world is touched by the Eye now, isn’t it? Can’t it be—I wanted you to—”
“I’m—I ended the world, Martin, it’s only right I fix it.” He was pleading now. “I just—Martin, please.” Jon reached up, curling his hand around the back of Martin’s neck, and pulled him down until their lips just brushed.
He closed his eyes, and Georgie wanted to look away, leave them this one last moment together. She’d be glad, later, that she didn’t, that she kept watching, watched them kiss, watched their tears, watched Jon break away and head towards the chair. Watched Martin grab him and push him away, taking the seat himself.
“Martin, no—”
Martin turned his head, slow, so slow, smiling one last time at Jon. “When are you going to stop blaming yourself?”
-
“Is he… talking?” She moves closer, squinting. “What… what’s he saying?”
Jon smiles, brushing his thumb over Martin’s slow-moving lips. “The same things he said to people in the apocalypse, of course. No matter how many times I told him they couldn’t hear him.”
And Georgie can see it now, the minute shapes, forming words as familiar as any casual conversation.
Excuse me… Sorry about this… How are you?… You’ll get through this… Just hang on… Hi there…
- - -
End notes: Every once in a while (not every night, bcos he has 7 billion ppl to get through), if someone were to look at the unchanging body of Martin Blackwood, and if they were good at reading lips, that someone might be able to see him talking one Jonathan Sims through his fear dreams. Of course, no one does see that; the only person who’s close enough would be asleep at the time.
#algie writes things#fanfiction#ABSOLUTELY NOT A HAPPY FANFICTION#jmart sad end from georgie's pov p much#flashbacks make a sorta nonlinear timeline but u get the drift p quick i think#sidenote jon's indian but specifically malyasian indian#bcos kim coralreefskim has a galaxy brain#looked up some malaysian indian halwa recipes and they look. so good. so GOOD#my personal headcanon for melanie didn't make it into this fic but however u hc her sometimes ur cooking after the end of the world#and u learn how to make ur friend's favorite dessert bcos it comforts him#even if he keeps insisting his grandmother made it better#...listen sometimes there are bits of happiness in grief. but also the grief is horrific and overwhelming. things happen.#the magnus archives#god absolutely not trying to maintag this can u imagine.#ppl just had to deal with sadness already u want this now???#anyway. i turn martin's politeness into Bad Foreshadowing.#aren't u glad i'm not jonathan jonny writerman sims and do not have control over this narrative. aren't u glad.
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Believe Again: Chapter 33 (Preview)
Three years later
When Saeran left the apartment this morning, it was clean, pristine and neat. He had left everything in order, having been the last one on cleaning duty over the weekend.
But now… eight hours later, he had returned… only to find that the apartment now looked like it had been completely and utterly ravaged. There was a (thankfully) wrapped diaper lying abandoned in a corner, splotches of milk powder on the floor, and little white footprints mixed with big ones trailing into the hallway. The couch looked like someone had been using it as a trampoline, pillows and cushions had been left on the floor, children’s books and toys were scattered everywhere like leaves in fall, and the dining table was a mess of food stains, some of which looked suspiciously like vomit.
Saeran had come home early, skipping out on dinner with his friends at college because MC wanted him home for dinner today. But he was starting to regret his decision when he surveyed the apartment, a grimace forming on his features when he realized he would almost certainly be dragged into cleaning everything up together with his stupid brother. Said man had one simple job today: to babysit his three-year-old child, while MC went out to do some grocery shopping.
And as expected, he had failed spectacularly at it.
The wind slammed the door shut loudly before Saeran could grab the handle. Not thinking much of it, Saeran shrugged and entered, but was promptly startled by a wail—one that belonged not to his niece, but to his brother.
Saeran sighed, carefully tip-toeing his way past the minefield of dirt to avoid getting his socks dirty. He managed past the living room and was about to approach the hallway that looked equally disastrous, when he heard an adorable, heart-stopping voice.
“Ran? Un-ko?”
Saeran froze in his tracks, wavering slightly as he almost lost his balance in the awkward position he was standing in, with one foot directly in front of the other. He was this close to stepping on a puddle of water, and he refused to get his socks wet.
The voice was followed by the sound of little feet running across the floor, like the soft pitter-patter of rain. Saeran’s eyes darted to the source of the noise, and there he found his little niece, with her wild bedhead and rubbing her big, yellow eyes. It was the most adorable thing to watch—the moment she noticed him, he watched as the sleepiness in her features evaporated in a flash, her lips parting into the brightest beam he had ever seen.
And then she was running towards him, releasing a high-pitched squeal as she went as if she were a train.
Saeran didn’t even have time to register his foot stepping into the water when she practically slammed her face against his calf, her little arms wrapping tightly around his leg like a koala to a tree.
“Unko Ran!” she cried happily, and Saeran didn’t even realise he was smiling until he noticed the slight ache in his cheeks. He bent down and scooped her into his arms easily, listening to the sound of her laugh echoing off the walls.
“Were you a good girl today, Eun-byeol?”
“Yes!” she nodded enthusiastically, cheeks turning a rosy pink as she held his cheek with one tiny hand. “Play, play!”
“I was just about to put her to sleep…” Another voice emerged, and Saeran craned his neck to see his brother slinking out of the bedroom, looking like Death itself. His hair was a complete mess, and he had what looked like marker stains on his arms and face—he must have let her use him as paper again.
It took a moment for Saeran to realise what had probably happened, his mind going back to the loud sound that the door created when it slammed shut earlier.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch the door handle in time. The wind was too strong.”
Saeyoung merely sighed, but it seemed more exhausted than anything else. Saeran could only guess at what on earth happened in this house today. No doubt, his niece must have been a handful—she had inherited her mischievousness from Saeyoung and her stubbornness from MC. And that made for one very difficult and out-of-control kid.
Saeran remembered Saeyoung retelling how Vanderwood had laughed when he first begged him to help babysit, saying something about how “karma’s a bitch” before hanging up on him altogether.
As terrible as it sounded, Saeran couldn’t help but agree.
The most peculiar thing was that for some reason, his niece had taken an exceptional liking to him, attached to him at the hip and always wanting to play with him. It didn’t help that “Un-ko” were her first words, instead of “Mama” or “Papa”. That had upset MC and Saeyoung both so much that Saeran almost felt guilty for playing with Eun-byeol whenever she so asked.
But it wasn’t like he could refuse her, not when she was so cute. She had big, round yellow eyes, fat cheeks that he loved to poke and pinch, long, wavy red hair that made her look like an angel, and her voice was adorable too. Especially when she called his name. Like she was doing now.
“Yes, yes, I’m here,” he chuckled, patting her on the head.
“She was asking about you all day, you know. Ever since we told her that you were staying for dinner today. She even refused to take her nap until you were back.”
“You were?” Saeran asked, turning his attention back to his niece, who was beaming at him proudly once again, as if she had achieved something huge. Well, he supposed, to a three-year-old, staying up past naptime was a huge feat in itself.
“Play, Unko Ran!”
“But you need to nap first.”
His answer didn’t please the three-year-old. Her lips dropped into a pout, and she shook her head. “No, play play!”
“We’ll play after you nap,” he told her firmly, already walking back to the bedroom where she had emerged from. She started to struggle, and he had to tighten his hold around her lest she fell out of his grasp.
“No! No!”
“If you’re good, I’ll let you crack the eggs later.”
That was the most effective bribe he had up his sleeve. Saeran smiled to himself when he watched her pause thoughtfully, mentally calculating the pros and cons of his suggestion. She had been obsessed with cracking eggs ever since they made pancakes together in the kitchen, of course while she was seated safely in her high-chair and watched Saeran do all the work. She had pleaded and begged for him to let her try cracking the eggs but he hadn’t allowed it. It took a while to placate her by giving her a slice of lemon to play with instead.
“Okay…”
She was rewarded with a peck on the forehead. “That’s my girl.”
It didn’t take long for him to put her to sleep—since she had been staying up past her naptime she was already exhausted. Within five minutes she was out cold, although it took another minute for him to carefully wrestle his index finger out from her grasp without waking her.
When Saeran left the room, he was greeted by the sight of Saeyoung wiping the floor with a wet cloth. He took a moment to watch his brother do the work, sighing as he went and looking thoroughly drained.
Parenthood was certainly taking its toll on this inexperienced father who couldn’t do anything without his wife.
In an uncommon show of sympathy, Saeran stepped forward, snatched the rag from his brother, who then looked at him, confused.
“Go sleep. You look horrible,” was all he said, before he took over and started wiping the same spot that his brother had earlier.
Saeran hated cleaning already, and his stupid brother just had to make it worse by squealing his name and throwing his arms around him in a hug. It took two kicks before Saeyoung finally let go, rubbing at the sore spots on his thigh but still wearing the silly, idiotic grin on his face.
“Thanks, Saeran. I appreciate it.”
“Just shut up and go to sleep or I’ll knock you out myself.”
***
A/N: I’m so sorry that this took so long, I died during recess week lmao and I actually had this part written out before but then I scrapped everything and re-did it soooooo yeah.
I ended up thinking more about how I can develop the plot to end things on a fluffier and happier note, which is why this probably isn’t the last chapter (AAAAAA I WAS SO READY FOR IT TO END BUT AT THE SAME TIME I WANT FLUFF)
so yeah i’ll TRY MY BEST. To upload soon. But also finals are in like a moNTH so :D Anyways I’ll definitely have time to work on this after finals so wheeee it’s just a matter of time (I’m SORRY THAT I ALWAYS KEEP PPL WAITING am truly unreliable but :”(((( thx for sticking with this story i rly rly appreciate it)
okay enough rant from me i’ll try working on this chapter more although my plan is for it to be p r e t t y l o a d e d so it miiiight not come so soon either. I’ll just try :)
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