heerecs

[heerecs]

amazing. wonderfully written. one of the best things i’ve read in a while. you have such a way with words

𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐄𝐒 (𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ❦ 𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝟎𝟏 ; 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭: 𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚

♫ Nilüfer Yanya - midnight sun

Love is raised by common thieves // Hiding diamonds up their sleeves // Always I did it for you // Never felt so sure // You're my best machine // You're my midnight sun // Always I did it for you

word count: 4.3k

⭅ back to m.list

“And this is the secret snack drawer of our department. Bossman refills it every Tuesday so you gotta be quick if you wanna snatch your favs before someone else does.” “Alright, thanks Bokuto-san, I’ll keep it in mind.”

When they said office tour this wasn’t exactly what you imagined, but you’re not complaining. You trail behind this giant puppy of a man who can barely contain his excitement over showing you around the building. While he gives off the impression that there’s not a single thought behind these unsettling eyes of his, you can tell that he is a sweetheart to his core and you have a good feeling about working together.

It’s been an hour since Kiyoko from HR–the most beautiful girl you’ve ever laid your eyes on–dropped you off in the hands of your future team and so far you’ve seen: 

The half-heartedly fixed window on the 3rd floor a certain “Tsum-Tsum” broke during last month’s office party

The girls restroom where Yachi from Marketing could be heard crying (“She schedules her crying session between meetings, it’s normal for her so don’t worry!”)

The cafeteria and which vending machines there to avoid, as well as the ones Bokuto ended up being stuck with his arm in 

The rooftop where they hold events during the warmer months (and where you accidentally locked yourself out when the door fell shut behind you–thankfully a guy built like a french door fridge who introduced himself as Meian came to your rescue after twenty minutes).

The coffee shop next door where everyone goes because the in-house coffee is ass apparently and HR cut budget for a new coffee machine 

What you haven’t seen yet:

Your future cubicle and the floor your team works on

The IT department where you’re supposed to pick up your work laptop

The showrooms of the latest collection

The Bossman 

Still, your nervousness from this morning is easing slowly. When you applied for this position, you wouldn’t have thought that they’d actually hire you considering what a mess your resume is on paper. Moved overseas with your family in middle school and continued living there till a month ago. Dropped out of college to pursue a career as seamstress (all self-taught no less because an apprenticeship meant too much commitment). Then chased that promised record label deal with your band which didn’t happen before you crashed and burned out big time. 

Frankly speaking, you were tired. 

It’s as if every decision in your life was either taken away from you or led you down a miserable path. Everything you touched just crumbled underneath your fingertips. Sometimes you catch yourself thinking that maybe you weren’t built for this kind of life. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a dreamer. 

Something boring. Something stable. 

You applied for this corporate job with the hope in your heart that you can find some rest. Putting an end to worrying about bills at the end of the month, and finally knowing which bed you’ll fall asleep in at night, seeing the same old city day in, day out. Maybe a place to call home but then again you didn’t allow yourself to wish for too much. Just a change from whatever trainwreck your life had been prior to this would be nice. 

You loved sewing and making music with your entire being, but maybe you never should’ve built a living on it–if you could even call the past few years of your adulthood that. Living. It felt more like surviving. You’ve been missing that joy over these things you used to love the most for a long time now. 

So when you got the call that you got the job last month, you didn’t have to think twice. You started packing your few belongings into boxes the same day and gave notice to quit your shabby flat. The money you once saved to go on a world tour with your band now came in handy to fund your move back to Japan. It all happened so fast. In a way it felt like an escape, like giving up; but in your heart you knew this was the right thing to do. 

Maybe you had to take your eyes off the things you loved to really see them again.

“Hello…? Yes, she’s with me. What? No, I wasn’t showing her the view from the fire escape ladder. Should I? Why am I getting yelled at?”

You snap out of your thoughts when Bokuto answers a call that obviously makes him go through all emotions in the span of a minute. He gestures something to you and you have no idea what it means, but based on context clues you assume it’s “the bossman” on the other end of the line. 

“Meeting room on cloud nine, got it. What? But ‘ninth floor' sounds so boring… yeah, yeah, I’ll bring her. No detours, got it. Not even… no? Okay.”

Bokuto hangs up the phone and you swear his hair looks a little deflated, just like his overall expression. He really was an open book. It was kind of refreshing.

“Did you get in trouble because of me?”, you ask and he shakes his head vehemently. 

“No, no! I showed you all the important stuff and Omi-Omi–I mean, the bossman–will show you the boring rest. Like where your desk is and everything. He’s back from his out-of-office appointment and booked a meeting room for you two. I’ll take you there!”

Omi. The corners of your mouth twitch a little when you hear that name, a sweet memory unraveling in your chest. Bruised knees and ice cream dripping down your knuckles, small hands pushing you on the swings and braiding flower crowns made from daisies for you. Plucked out petals. He loves me, he loves me not. Friendship bracelets and baby teeth. 

You aren’t any good with names, but you’re sure you would’ve remembered this one during the interview process. 

“This Omi-Omi…” you wonder as you follow Bokuto’s lead, “is he a new hire as well? I’ve spoken with a ton of people for my interview but if I remember correctly the team leader was someone called Miya Osamu…?”

“Ohh, you spoke with Myaa-sam!” Bokuto’s eyes seem to light up. “No, he doesn’t work here anymore, just his carbon copy! Quit the job to follow his dreams, he said. He’s about to open his own restaurant just around the corner actually! We should go there for lunch once it’s open!”

A strange emotion tugs on your heartstrings. Following your dreams. Yeah, that ended disastrous for you but still you can’t help but feel a pang of envy over everyone who does it anyway. You try to shove it deep down, far away. It’s long in the past. You’re here now, a new chapter. New faces. New routines. All new. Same old you. 

“Omi-Omi got promoted when Myaa-sam left, so that’s why you haven’t met him during your interviews,” Bokuto adds and holds out a door for you. “Don’t worry about him. He can be a bit grumpy at times but he has a sparkly heart or whatever the saying is. You’ll get along just fine!”

Bokuto leaves you alone with your thoughts in the small meeting room. You’re not sure what to do while you wait. The prospect of sitting still seems awful but you also don’t wanna be nosey and flip through the fabric samples someone left on the table or read through the flipchart in the corner, even though you’re tempted, so you end up pacing around the room and looking outside the big windows. Everything outside seems so small from up this high. It makes you feel irrelevant too and it’s a strangely comforting feeling. Being nothing but a name, a small gear in a bigger picture. Maybe if you become a blank canvas, you can find the colors in your world again. 

You twirl around when the door clicks open, flattening down your skirt, suddenly now very aware that the moving box with your flatiron is still stuck on some container at sea. Doesn’t matter, maybe you can pull it off as edgy or casual chic with the right amount of charm and charisma. 

Behind you, the door clicks open, making you twirl around. 

And freeze.

“Sorry I’m late, I picked up your work laptop from the IT department on my way, so we can get started right aw–” 

Leather sleeve holders on a spotless white shirt. A black face mask covering the lower half of his face. Dark curls, moving like the sea at night. Hands so large they’d swallow yours easily if you ever get to hold them again. Two birthmarks, right above the eye–that’s where a lover used to kiss you in a past life, you remember saying when you were both kids.

“Kiyoomi,” you hear yourself mutter. It sounds distant, like an echo from the past. It’s been over a decade since you tasted his name in your mouth and even after all this time your hearts still recognize each other. 

“Ah,” he says and then, after a pause, “you.”

He looks dumbfounded and just stands there frozen, balancing a bundle of paperworks and a laptop in one hand and two styrofoam cups of coffee in the other. For a few seconds you just blink at each other, trying to process whatever cheap trick the universe decided to play here.

Sakusa Kiyoomi. The boy you claimed you’d marry one day when you were both just eight years old. You remember being so sure about it. How the thought never left you growing up; and how you broke down crying when your parents told you about their plans to move overseas for their work during your first year of middle school, the end of a dream. 

Eventually you snap out of your paralysis. 

“Ah, you. What kind of non-reaction is that?”, you ask and shake your head, laughing. You take the coffee from his hand and reach out to slowly peel the mask off his face. Despite his brows knitting together, he doesn’t protest it. It’s strange, seeing him. The boy you once promised your heart to in the sandbox and the grown man with the same face, just sharper. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you now. 

“Well, excuse me, but the girl who I still have a bite mark from when we were kids just spawned out of the blue in front of me,” Kiyoomi huffs, rolling his eyes like he used to when he was annoyed by your antics. He cups one side of your face with his now free hand and lifts it slightly as if to get a better look at you, his thumb idly caressing your cheek. It feels awfully intimate and you find yourself leaning closer into his touch.

Omi. Your Omi. 

It’s as if time stood still between you; as if not over a decade has passed since you last saw each other. Held each other. Murmured promises in each other's ears as you hugged goodbye in the pouring rain. Of course it was pouring that day, it was as if the heavens were weeping over the two of you being separated. Maybe that's the universe's apology for this past dick move, you think, the corners of your lips curling upwards.

Kiyoomi lets go of your cheek and flicks your forehead as if he read your mind. Another habit from back then.

“Still a daydreamer,” he remarks and for the first time since he walked into the room he smiles and it’s like the sun has risen again after years of winter. 

When you sit down together, so close that your knees under the table are touching, you find it hard to focus. Kiyoomi explains the applications you’ll work with, your logins, company security policies, which meetings you’ll attend with him the upcoming weeks and the hierarchy of your team, but you don’t follow. At all. You’re too distracted by the flutter in your chest and wondering what the shaved part in the back of his neck would feel like if you ran your fingers over it, as well as what he’d been up to over the past decade, and why he never answered your letters, and… 

Your phone vibrating on the table next to you snaps you out of your thoughts. You click your tongue in annoyance when you see it’s the moving company calling you. 

“Sorry, I gotta take this. Won’t take long,” you apologize and pick up the phone, leaving the room for an ounce of privacy–it’s not like the thin walls muffle much when you yell into the speaker for five minutes only to hang up in defeat. 

Kiyoomi looks up when you return, his eyes looking you up and down with the same intense gaze like he always did.

“Boyfriend trouble?” His voice is bland, seemingly disinterested, but no matter how much he tries to hide it you can still hear the underlying weight of the question. “Or girlfriend trouble. Didn’t mean to make assumptions.” 

You slump down on your chair again and sigh in defeat, shaking your head. 

“None of that. It’s the damn moving company,” you huff, slamming your phone back on the table. “They mixed up dates and now I’m here but all my stuff isn’t.” You rub the bridge of your nose in annoyance. “It’s been almost a month and my back will kill me if I have to spend one more night on an air mattress.”

Kiyoomi drums his fingers on the table, pondering. You can tell by the furrow of his brows and the intensity of his gaze. Once again you notice what a fine man he has become. His beauty would’ve been intimidating if you haven’t known him since you were little kids. 

“Stay with me.”

You look up from your phone where you wrote down the new date they gave you for the arrival of your furniture and blink at him slowly. Not fully registering what he’s saying.

“Stay with me,” Kiyoomi repeats again, noticing your confusion. “Till your things arrive. I have a guest room. It’s a short commute to the job. I cook and I clean.” He shuts his laptop and gets up, running a hand through his dark curls. 

“And…?”, you ask, as if waiting for the condition because surely it sounds too good to be true. 

“And maybe I’m also worried that you’ll turn out to be nothing but a fever dream if I take my eyes off you again.”

In the evening, Kiyoomi and you stop by your almost empty apartment to pick up your suitcases with a change of clothes. 

Sneaking away after work together without the rest of the team noticing was surprisingly easy–Meian had clocked out early to pick up his partner from school (Kiyoomi begged him to clarify that she was a teacher to avoid any future confusion), Bokuto and Atsumu were stuck in an elevator (“They’re not my responsibility after 5pm”) and Hinata went out for dinner with some business partners from Brazil. 

When Kiyoomi saw how you were dressed for the chilly autumn weather, he wordlessly turned around and disappeared in the office building for five minutes again, showing up with a scarf that looked suspiciously like the one the mannequin in the showroom wore, from the collection that wasn’t supposed to see the light yet. Nobody has to know, especially not how tenderly he wraps it around you, making sure you stay warm. He always did. 

Some kind of protective instinct within him kicks in when you unlock the door to your place. Kiyoomi, who huffed about the lack of security of your apartment complex for the duration of the whole elevator ride and then some more when you let him in, was now checking your windows and front door. 

“You’re gonna tire yourself out from all that head shaking and tongue clicking, Omi,” you tell him while you stuff your scattered clothes across the floor back into your two big suitcases. Most of them were absolutely not fit for the season because after spending half of your life abroad. You kind of underestimated how cold Japan could get during autumn and winter. Maybe you could sew a few pieces after work and on the weekends. 

“This place is a rathole,” Kiyoomi groans after turning the dripping faucet on and off and making a face of utter disapproval. “You should just move in with me permanently.”

“I’m not moving in with you, I just met you like eight hours ago,” you snarl back and roll your eyes, but maybe, in the back of your mind, you’re considering it. 

Kiyoomi crouches down next to you, taking your chin between his fingers so you’d look at him.

“Eight hours my ass,” he huffs. “Don’t act like we spent our childhood glued together. You slept more in my bed than in yours. The memory foam of my mattress kept the shape of you long after you were gone.”

“Now that’s kinda romantic.” 

You glance at him, a small smile tugging on the corners of your mouth. Your Omi. How you missed him. His thumb traces the outline of your jaw, and for a fleeting second you wonder if he’s gonna kiss you. 

Maybe you really want him to kiss you. 

You take a cab to Kiyoomi’s apartment (“What have you packed in these suitcases? Bricks? I’m not hauling these to the other end of the city. Get in.”) and he holds your hand for the entire duration of the ride under the feeble excuse that your hands are too cold. On the outside you watch the city lights pass by, an artificial milky way that unexpectedly lead you back into your first love’s arms.

Kiyoomi’s place is clean and spacious without being cold. The scent of it is making your brain tingle in a strange way, the subtle note of an almost forgotten childhood memory resurfacing again; the boy you once loved still living here but also someone else, someone he grew into without you.

You step out of your heels and shrug off your jacket and the scarf, dropping them carelessly to the ground. Behind you Kiyoomi bends down to hang it up neatly on the coat rack while you waltz inside as if you own this place. Another thing that hasn’t changed since you both were little. 

Expensive, you think, recognizing some of the furniture brands and decorations. In one corner of the living room stands a vintage serving cart, crystal glasses and pricey bottles of various alcohols on top of it. His walls are adorned with artworks of all sizes, but otherwise they’re bare, the shelves missing trinkets and personal touches like framed photos of family and friends. 

Still, the whole place feels like a home, lived in by someone as quiet and private as Kiyoomi. 

“It’s late, I’m gonna order us some food,” Kiyoomi announces when he appears behind you, fingers tapping on his phone screen in one hand while the other unbuttons his shirt a little. He doesn’t look at you, just hands you his phone, gesturing vaguely. “Pick anything you like. My treat.”

Sitting down on the couch with your knees hugged to your chest, you scroll through the food options. Your attention span is fleeting, your eyes darting from the screen to Kiyoomi who carries your suitcases to the guest bedroom. Giving you a place to be, to stay, like it’s the most natural thing to do. Suddenly you’re very aware of the heaviness of your bones and how tired you feel.

You’ve been running for a long time. You’re home now. 

Kiyoomi returns with a towel and a change of clothes, taking the phone from you again. He frowns when he scrolls through your food picks, letting out a small sigh.

“You still have the palate of a five year old.”

“You told me to pick anything I like? Just because you were fed caviar and gold dust as a baby… You pick something then.”

“I didn’t say I won’t order it, no? Go take a bath meanwhile. You had a long day.” 

A long day. If it was only that.

But you don’t say anything, just wordlessly take the stuff from Kiyoomi’s hands and let him usher you to the bathroom. He pats the counter for you to sit on while he runs you a bath, pouring some bathing essence that causes a mild explosion of bubbles (same as you liked it back then). The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up when he checks the water temperature before turning back to you. He walks over till he’s standing between your legs, his hands coming down to rest on the sides of your thigh.

In the confined space of the bathroom, he seems even taller, wider. Nothing left from his baby cheeks and soft features. There was a time when you could see eye to eye, but now he’s towering over you with ease. Your hands find their way to his hips, subconsciously making him inch closer. 

“You don’t have to do all of that for me, you know,” you mumble as you glance up at him. 

“I want to. So please, let me,” he replies quietly. His face is so close, you could count his lashes if they weren’t endless. Endless as his adoration for you–still, after all this time. You briefly wonder if you could love each other like you did back then. Or even more. Your heart is drumming, a nostalgic melody you haven’t listened to in a while but one that’s engraved into your being.

It would be so easy, loving him. Like breathing. 

Kiyoomi pulls you into a tight hug, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Your arms around him cling tight, as if part of you is afraid that he is just a fleeting illusion, crumbling the moment you let go. It seems like you share the same fear. He shakes his head when your grip loosens slightly. 

“Not yet,” he mumbles, his lips brushing over the skin of your neck when he does. “Don’t let go yet.”

Your fingers are tangled in his curls, keeping him close, your bodies pressed against each other. Hearts beating in unison. You silently thank the sun and the moon for bringing you back home into his arms. Only when his neck starts to hurt from the way he’s hunched over you, he reluctantly peels himself away from you, patting your side. “C’mon now. Your bath will get cold.”

He holds out a hand to help you down from the counter, slender fingers wrapping around yours. 

“But I wanna keep talking to you,” you pout, earning a small eye roll from him, but the faint smile on his lips is betraying the gesture.

“Then leave the door a crack open. I’ll talk to you, doll,” he replies and flicks your forehead. Before he leaves the bathroom he turns around again, as if there was something else on the tip of his tongue, but he decides to swallow it. For now.

Immersed in the bubble bath, you tell Kiyoomi everything that happened over the span of the past decade. From your life overseas and how lonely it had been, to the missing letters and how you tried finding him on social media when you were older, how much you loved sewing and making music and how it burned you out doing these things for a living. You pour your heart out. Somehow it’s easier when you’re not looking at him, when you can’t see your own sad reflection in his dark eyes.

You can hear him moving around on the outside, not peeking, but always near enough to give you short answers, ask questions or to simply hear him laugh through the small crack you left open. It is strange. Life is strange. One night you’re selling your bass to have something to eat for the rest of the month, then a heartbeat later you’re sitting in your puppy love’s bathtub while he orders you fries and waffles. 

That night, you fall in love again.

Or maybe you never fell out of it. But it’s there, tangible, glowing. You're tucked under a thick blanket, a photo album in your lap, and Kiyoomi is hand feeding you nuggets while you look over the slightly faded photos from when you were kids, some you have long forgotten about. 

The one where you lost your first baby teeth, grinning from ear to ear to show off your tooth gap. You cried horribly that day and to comfort you, Kiyoomi bought you a small plushie from his pocket money. It still sits next to your pillow when you fall asleep every night.

The one where you wore your middle school uniforms for the first time, not knowing you would be torn apart a year later and never got to graduate together. It’s also when Kiyoomi had another growth spurt and you realized you really, really liked this boy.

The one where you played dress up in your mother’s wardrobe, her wedding dress way too big on you, the veil awry on top of your hair, but Kiyoomi looking at you like you’re magic. It was all play pretend, but maybe in another life he really became your husband if life hadn’t torn you apart.

“I really missed you,” you sigh quietly, your head resting against his shoulder as you shuffle through the photos. The nostalgia is leaving a bittersweet taste in your mouth, the what if’s getting harder to swallow. It’s like the words are clawing in your throat, begging to be let out. Kiyoomi wraps his arm closer around you, pressing a soft kiss on top of your head. 

“Missed you too. More than anything.”

It seems like everything leads you back to him. In his arms, his home, his heart. You have a feeling that maybe this could be the beginning of something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.

a/n: i rewrote this chapter SO many times to a point where i wanted to rip my hair and my eyes out so here we are. omi loving demon and me are shaking hands rn, WE MADE IT. thank you so much for reading and loving omi as much as i do. this chapter is for YOU 🌷 ps: meian's partner mentioned is y/n from dodger's oh captain, my captain

✰ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

@wyrcan @layskettlecookedchips @chaotic-neutral-ig @dreamgardenficrecs @mmqqik

@avis-writeshq @moochiwoochi @coconut-dreamz @kentocalls @jadeoru

@nekozaki @iluv-ace @kameyyy @sugacor3 @hiraethwa

@gigiiiiislife @ashers-playpen @k4sumis0u @your-platonic-gay-lover

taglist open! fill out this form to be added (or removed, no hard feelings ♡)! minors DNI!

[heerecs]

woozi as moon lock,

seungkwan as moon open,

wonwoo as moon close

[heerecs]

Summary: Sakusa Kiyoomi tended to avoid a number of things: germs, crowds, his teammates, and interviews. He preferred his life out of the limelight. When rumors spring up about his love life, keeping his fiancée a secret becomes a whole lot harder.

Chapter List

The Snake Den 

MSBY Black Jackals

Return to Tokyo

The Game

Post Match Interviews || Extra

A Late Night Encounter || Atsumu

Drinks with the Boys

Spring Qualifiers

Tokyo Rematch

Sponsors and Fangirls || Extra

Musubi Tower

Gold Digger

Breakfast at Tiffany’s

If She Had to Pick

The Final Game

BONUS: Paranoia || Kiyoto

​

[heerecs]

That classmate sukuna post was just 🤌 a part 2 with dating headcanons pls🫣 if you take requests. Thank you 💕

the referenced post is over here thank you for enjoying! hope you like these extras as well <3

what would dating classmate sukuna be like??

well, at the beginning, its mostly sukuna dragging you around to places after school... he knows all the obscure food places that nobody is aware of- you know those dingy looking places that serve top tier food? yea.

you wonder if this is his idea of what "dates" are, just sitting and eating together lmao, but your heart still flutters even if a lot of the time there is pretty little conversation other than the usual bickering the two of you do because he does little things like giving you the last dumpling or whatever else it is that he's ordered as a side or pouring you a glass of water before he pours himself one

its like this until you begin taking more initiative and suggest the two of you do other things as a couple, like watching movies and going to cute aesthetic cafes, whatever floats your boat! (he'll most likely have a bored look on his face, but look, he'll find some way of having fun, because he always has you to tease, after all)

he probably enjoys more active date stuff like going to the arcade! throwing basketballs into the hoops, shooting games, table hockey, you name it (good luck winning against him)

will probably make everything into a competition and challenge you... and the loser gets a flick to the forehead, or something like that

(you shut your eyes and brace yourself at the end of each game for the impact, but it doesnt come for a while... when you crack open one eye a little, you see that hes smirking in that endearing way at you, because you look so cute with your eyes closed like that, waiting for him)

definitely goes easy on you, and the gentle flick gets you all flustered and shy

(maybe he gets bored of flicking towards the end and gives you a kiss instead)

cough cough anyway

on your way out of the arcade, if you make puppy eyes at him while gesturing at the claw machine filled with cute plushies, maybe he'll cave in and get one for you

what gets shoved into your arms afterwards is a big ass kirby plush

he doesnt get whats so good about such a dull looking creature, but whatever makes you happy, i guess

at school, nothing much changes except that hes a bit more affectionate with his bullying-- arm around your shoulder, sneaky kisses in the hallways, cuddling behind the school building on some days, but its not like the two of you are joined hip to hip constantly, since he has his friends and you have yours

dont bother taking him on study dates - or, if you wanna see him doze off, you should because thats all he'd do, since sukuna does the bare minimum when it comes to studying and still gets good grades

dont ask him to tutor you, he'd be a really mean teacher

but, well, if theres something that you're really struggling with, i guess he wont be opposed to helping out a little, in exchange for something like a free meal later

(but he ends up paying anyway.. when you tell him about the agreement earlier, he'll go "did i say that? i forgot. whatever, just leave it be." its just his tsundere way of saying "dont worry about it" bc he actually has no intention of making you pay for him)

sukuna does his daily activities of beating up losers and getting regular detentions, but now he also finds pleasure in seeing you waiting for him during after school hours by the entrance to walk home with him

is smug 24/7 and its incredibly hard to fluster him

but maybeee it happens once when you give him a big fat kiss on the lips before running away, which stuns him a little

(is definitely gonna chase you up for a second one. better watch out, hes fast as fuck boi)

Masterlist <3

[heerecs]

𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

≡ sakusa kiyoomi x reader

↳ what would it take for the world’s most private man to show his beloved treasure to his once irrelevant world? Simple — a pure and willing heart that only knows of one atthe tender hour of 11:53 pm.

tw/cw: none!! just straight fluff

✉ : just a little drabble of Omi being the best (๑•ᴗ•๑) !!

Sakusa Kiyoomi has always been private with his life. Whether it be answering superficial questions about his day to day as an athlete, to the simplest questions of his fans asking what he used for his cologne, Sakusa Kiyoomi kept his answers to a minimum — giving no more than a couple of words, a sentence if lucky.

And despite his larger than average frame, the paparazzi would never be able to get a full picture of him. Always dressed in a darker set of clothes — a black hoodie paired with dark jeans or slacks — a mask that hid half of his face while the other half was completely covered by his baseball hat or hoodie. Sakusa made it his mission to keep his life outside the athletic world to a certain degree of privacy because that was the only sense of control he seemed to be able to grasp in such a loud and intrusive world — an irrelevant world.

He looked rather bored and nonchalant during public events, but from under the table, he would be anxiously fiddling his fingers. And Sakusa never went out of his way to garner attention for himself like some of his extroverted teammates, but never was he purposefully rude like how some antics would label him as — just a bit more nervous than most. 

Keep reading

[heerecs]

ᴄʜᴀᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ʀᴇꜰʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

synopsis: an intimate encounter in a dystopian environment cw: slight fluff, very slight angst & gender neutral reader word count: 1.4k author’s note: this was originally a twdg mitch x reader but since then, i have thought of so many fitting characters for this piece and as it is my first, i’m keeping it open to pretty much any angsty male character in fiction to grow my audience lol. also, i highly highly recommend you listen to chamber of reflection by mac demarco on loop as you read this just for the immersion but besides that, enjoy reading <33

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

There was something so pleasant about the mere sight of him crying in front of you: because of you. An overwhelming and condescending feeling of superiority wavered over you, making you believe you had full control of the situation, that is until you realise his gaze, heavy, was now set upon your lips rather than the floor, glancing up to your eyes shamelessly.

His weakened sniffles were now warming into heaves and puffs till he utters out in the quietest of voices; “I want to kiss you, please let me.” The silence that follows the statement allows you to maintain your composure before his thumb indents into those same lips he was craving and your eyes lock, his filled with lust while yours the same.

These moments were your guilty pleasure, the knowingness between the two of you of what comes next invites all but the unknown sentiment of euphoria. You were needy for him, just as he was for you and nothing was making that change, for better or for worse.

Both having the same desire, same want, same need, you kiss– so slowly that it seems you’re engulfing each other whole. His knuckles elegantly trace your jawline before grazing the cut he had given you earlier, “I’m sorry,” he breaths out, and you feel a teardrop stain your cheek, the dampness being rubbed away by [his name]’s fingertip.

Your peers were never able to pinpoint your relationship. Some called you enemies, some complicated, some strangers, neither of these were the correct term for whatever you had going on but while both of you understood it was wrong, there was something so addictive that made it feel so fucking right.

Lyrics repeating the words; ‘Alone again’ over and over only ignited the kiss, lips melding harmoniously and in tune with the bluesy melody. It was one of the few tracks that remained unscathed but had grown to become yours and his favourite. As soon as it began to play, that was the others’ cue to back off from the room because they knew, you knew, he knew, what it meant.

‘[Y/N]’, he whines, ‘[Y/N]’, this time needier than the last. You simply hum in response, his name running a thousand miles in your head as if it were the only thing you knew.

He breaks the kiss. Forehead leaning its weight against yours, “You’ve gotten better,” he chuckles with a rosy flush, “And you worse.” He stares at you, your nose bridges connected, “Yeah?” He wipes his thumb on the corner of your mouth holding the string of saliva, “You know damn well I haven’t,” he says firmly.

You pause, glance at his thumb, gaze never relaxing and kiss the tip ever so delicately, with the utmost precision as if a touch too heavy would shatter it entirely. He cowers a little but sweeps the hair on your forehead back, slick with sweat as if to prove to himself that he isn’t fazed when that was anything but true.

He brushes himself off, fixes the hair that you instinctually clawed at and asks “How do I look?” before he poses jokingly.

“Just the way I like,” you say, dragging out the final syllable of each word. He rolls his eyes, a common gesture when it comes to him, but then he turns his back and the heavy displeasure in your heart maximises making your movements sluggish and irritated.

You’ll be in front of other people now, you can’t let them know and though they’re suspecting, what with [his name]’s overprotective trait manifesting through arms over shoulders and hands on your waist, there’s still a strong uncertainty within them.

You still long for commitment, unconditionality and cherish however, something that you wish your partner wasn’t afraid of just because of past experiences and core beliefs.

He wipes his sleeve through his nose, the sticky glisten grossing you out. “Ew,” you say meaning for it to be a thought.

He gives you a smile, the one where he’s either about to playfully tease you, or caress you so lovingly.

Your speculations are confirmed with the first option when he starts chasing you with his mucus-covered sleeve, “Dickhead, stop!” you laugh out, not necessarily pleasantly since you were still wary of said sleeve.

“You’re gonna have to run faster, little [girl/boy/one].” You find a safe spot in the corner of his bed, backing up further and further when his walk becomes slower and deeper with anticipation.

The bed’s broken ridges are played with by your fingers, the feeling of randomised patches sewn in is noticeable with every new texture just as familiar as the last.

This bed carries a lot of memories, some undiscovered and some well remembered, it was also where you spent the first night sleeping after the apocalypse had just hit. No amount of description will ever do justice to the unhinged fear you felt that is still carried by you at night when the atmosphere is unrestrained with solitude and danger.

“Fuck!” His snot has now become a part of your attire. He lets out a hearty laugh only to be cut short when you spit on your hand and wipe it on his chest. “Two can play at that game,” you say, conspicuous smugness marked on your face. “Smartass…” he mumbles with a smile still present from his laugh.

A tinge of guilt stings your heart, noticing the slight pink hue of his eyes, worsening when you acknowledge you are the fault for this.

You can’t think of anything to do to comfort him only your body acts on its own when it decides to cup his face with your calloused hands, thumbs wiping away the physical sadness still evident on his face.

He flinches of course, [his name] wasn’t always the biggest fan of physical touch but God knows he needs it, arguably more than you. Be that as it may, a weight is lifted off your chest to the softening of his expression, you’re glad you’re the fault for this.

His face turns to the window but you gently bring it to face you. Eye contact was not uncommon between you two yet it usually resulted in either one of you crying, yelling in a fit of rage or simply just hurting the other one; physically, emotionally, or a combination of the two.

This time was different though, it felt different. The track even remarkably kept playing after its second loop instead of going haywire and killing the mood.

For no exact reason, you lean forward, uncaring about the wetness your spit left on his shirt or the now drying mucus on his forearm.

To your surprise, he adjusts his position, making you lay down instead of lean uncomfortably. The symphony you were hearing was now no longer the music but his constant, slightly alleviated heartbeat.

Your thoughts get cut short when you feel light, benign vibrations against his chest and soon the atmosphere becomes heavy with yearning.

He’s humming along to the tune.

Your eyes widen, making the highlights in them grow. He’s never done that before, and you think this again when he croaks out the lyrics in a rasp several octaves lower than usual.

“No use looking out, it’s within that brings that lonely feeling.”

He stops singing but continues his mellow hum when you reach your hand up to his neck. He’s looking right at you now yet his stare isn’t filled with lust, or anguish or blind rage but genuine tenderness.

A smile creeps onto your face making your eyes squint and teeth show; “I like this side of you,” you whisper.

“Mhm?” he hums, “Mhm,” and with that, his eyes shut and his movements slow as you engage in yet another kiss, this one more intimate than the last.

His jawline is pleasantly acquainted with your lips as you reach his ear and murmur, “You’re so cute.”

He sighs and begins rubbing circles on your spine; “Now you know how I feel…” trailing off.

You harshly smooch his neck, a pop leaving your lips and somewhat echoing.

“Yeah,” you state, “I do.” If you were wearing lipstick, his skin would have a deepening rosy mark in the shape of your lips.

“Heyyy…” he says bashfully with warming cheeks & an amplified heartbeat.

You ignore this and repeat said action, this time softer and with a smile.

He lets out a chuckle whilst shaking his head and brings his hand up to rest in your hair, occasionally playing with the curls and making them bounce while you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, eventually falling into a tranquil slumber.

JASON TODD, bakugo, iwaizumi, TWDG MITCH, josuke, KYOTANI

[heerecs]

this is awesome; royal aus are wonderful and your writing is chefs kiss too. I enjoyed reading this 🥰

MIND'S VOICE ♡ PAIRING. JAY X READER GENRE. SLICE OF LIFE, ROYAL!AU WC. 0.744 / WARN. NON

blue moon occurrences are as common as the number of times jay questions his feelings towards anyone he has met more than thrice. once his impression is set, it takes longer for it to change especially for someone he sees as infrequently as you and yet, his thoughts often echo your name in all shades of emotions—he doesn't know enough to form an impression but he knows enough to know that his mind's voice is putting you in a loop.

"have you seen the princess?" his companion asks, the ballroom going in circles as the dancing begins and the orchestra sings, he has yet to meet your gaze but his eyes never left you.

"by the stairs, i think the delegates are saying their greetings," jay replies, placing the wine glass back on the waiter's tray and hurriedly tapping his friend to signal his leaving.

he had one goal coming to the ball, he'd usually not attend if his circle of nobles weren't going. tonight, it is just him.

following your quiet steps as you slip away to the terrace, he enters from the other door. watching you sigh heavily, leaning on the railing as he walks towards you but your ears catch the sound of his dress shoes, a smile enamouring him immediately. "how unusual," you tease, straightening your posture and tilting your head.

"i was curious—about the delegation—and... and also about your engagement," he bites his lips, blinking as he looks away from your half-lid eyes. "you turned them down," jay said, fighting the smile that tried to show, his cheeks dusting with embarrassment.

"yes," you nod, your fingers entangling with his and you pull his closer, speaking in a whisper, "you didn't mean it when you told me to accept it—a great political match or whatever. but what about you, aren't you also a great political match, sir prince in a foreign land?"

his head feels dizzy, heat from his neck shooting upwards as soon as your hand falls on his chest. you aren't always so bold when the eyes of the public are just beyond the unlocked doors. prince or what, jay didn't think anyone would be a better fit than him.

"you know i love you," he sighs, snaking his arms around your waist and you shake your head, "then why did you tell me to go ahead? you made me feel pathetic for trying to court you," your voice is not as sharp as your words and yet his chest tightens, he knows he shouldn't have done that but he was the one who previously said he didn't want to get married to you.

first impressions, he wasn't in love with you until he said everything he had to say about your blunt yet people-pleasing way of courtroom behaviour. he wasn't in love with you until he saw behind the facade of the prim and proper princess who did her duty well. all it took was one conversation without the filters for him to fall for you and it came after all the opinions were shared, he backed out the minute he realised he looks hypocritical for falling for you after denying your good qualities earlier.

it was a continuous loop of wanting you and wanting his reputation, especially for a prince far from home.

"i am sorry... i was an idiot and i didn't think much about what i was saying until i went home—i won't let you get engaged to anyone. can you wait till i ask my parents to send an official request?" jay inhales sharply at your lack of response, you hug him and stay quiet.

your eyes blinking towards him, he feels your head nod and you smile at him, "of course, i can wait but what changed your mind?" you ask, your voice muffled but he hears everything.

"my mind wouldn't shut up about how stupid that was and i kept thinking about you and how you'll be engaged the next i see you and how i really didn't want that even if i was the one who said you should go ahead with it. i should've just told everyone i love you now that i know you more than beside—i don't know what was so hard about that—they probably wouldn't even think about twice,"

"you can breathe, jay," you chuckle, tightening your grip on him and he sighs, mimicking you. "i am glad your mind's voice is smarter than you are,"

©KDYISM, 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

taglist: @soobin-chois @sungbeam (drop an ask or pm to be added or removed!)

[heerecs]

well this was a ride 🧍🏾‍♀️

before I begin with the review can I sign up to be part of the Doyoung protection squad?

now, to begin... OH MY THIS WAS A GOOD FIC. I ATE THIS UPPP. OP YOUR BRAIN >>>.

things I liked about this

I liked Taeyong's character a lot! I could definitely relate with him in the terms of not being able to confess. not fully tho since I still end up confessing either way but he's valid!!😤💕

one of my favourite tropes is best friends to lovers and another is idiots to lovers. I totally see Doyoung and I staring at them and going, "They're both idiots, why don't they confess??"

but this was well written and I liked the dialogue. although idk I would have wanted Doyoung to have more screen time (I say this like its a show 🤣) so that his character could seem more real to me? idk if that makes sense. but I'm probably just being biased since I like Doyoung but then at the same time it makes sense that he's not there since he's married to his studies.

which reminds me!!

me & Doyoung 🤝🏾 engrossed in our schoolwork

yn was a good character too! honestly pretty relatable to an extent with the group mate issue. if it were me I think I would have just done the project on my own and submitted it in my name.

yk it's a good fic when the characters are not "perfect"

Taeyong was a liar and Y/N shouted at him for something that wasn't his fault. it's realistic and that makes it's good.

bonus things that I really liked 🥰🌱

---> yes! finally!!

but if one of my friends did this for me I'd cook for them, clean their room, bake brownies for them and just shower them with love because this is COMMITMENT

call out me thinks

this made me laugh ngl

now this was the funniest 🤣🤣🤣 but cabbages are pretty appealing so wdym Taeyong 🤨?

summary: Good and nice fic to read with low angst! but there's pining and ohhh almost unrequited love so for you guys, this is a good read.

love theory | l.ty

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x reader

Themes: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, college au, wingwoman au, fluff, angst, comedy, mutual pining, lots of lying, kissing, references to 13 going on 30, Lee ‘whipped’ Taeyong

Warnings: profanity, usage of nicknames, food, kissing, lying, angst, themes of being let down, slight unrequited love, taeyong is a little bit of a jerk but its unintentional i promise you he’s a sweetheart

Wc: 21k

Summary: “hey google, how do you fake going on a date with someone that doesn’t even exist because you were too much of a coward to tell your best friend you’re in love with her so now you’re screwed? sincerely, taeyong.”

Playlist: love theory by taeyong and wonstein, theres no way by julia michaels and lauv; starlight by taeil; best friends by conan gray; how you get the girl by taylor swift; just friends by why don’t we, shine by pentagon

Notes from brooke: happy birthday to the loml!! it’s been a hot minute since i posted anything but i had to for taeyong day, so i wrote this entire fic in eight days 🧍‍♀️ go big or go home amirite? (living that enhypen agenda). anyway! i worked really hard on this fic and had a lot of fun writing this, so i hope you enjoy reading it! as always, feedback would be much appreciated<3

Taeyong didn’t have the best luck when it came to romance.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true, he had been in a few relationships before. He had been through the first date giddiness several times and that fluttery, nervous feeling you get when you first start to get to know someone. He had experienced the lows of heartbreak and the sorrow of a breakup, the awkwardness of a crush, and— well, you get the point. 

Keep reading

[heerecs]

love theory | l.ty

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x reader

Themes: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, college au, wingwoman au, fluff, angst, comedy, mutual pining, lots of lying, kissing, references to 13 going on 30, Lee ‘whipped’ Taeyong

Warnings: profanity, usage of nicknames, food, kissing, lying, angst, themes of being let down, slight unrequited love, taeyong is a little bit of a jerk but its unintentional i promise you he’s a sweetheart

Wc: 21k

Summary: “hey google, how do you fake going on a date with someone that doesn’t even exist because you were too much of a coward to tell your best friend you’re in love with her so now you’re screwed? sincerely, taeyong.”

Playlist: love theory by taeyong and wonstein, theres no way by julia michaels and lauv; starlight by taeil; best friends by conan gray; how you get the girl by taylor swift; just friends by why don’t we, shine by pentagon

Notes from brooke: happy birthday to the loml!! it’s been a hot minute since i posted anything but i had to for taeyong day, so i wrote this entire fic in eight days 🧍‍♀️ go big or go home amirite? (living that enhypen agenda). anyway! i worked really hard on this fic and had a lot of fun writing this, so i hope you enjoy reading it! as always, feedback would be much appreciated<3

Taeyong didn’t have the best luck when it came to romance.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true, he had been in a few relationships before. He had been through the first date giddiness several times and that fluttery, nervous feeling you get when you first start to get to know someone. He had experienced the lows of heartbreak and the sorrow of a breakup, the awkwardness of a crush, and— well, you get the point. 

Keep reading

[heerecs]

▶ Pairing: Mark lee x reader.

▶ Word count: 20k.

▶ Previously posted as “THE SHADOW” from the NCT FRAT series.

▶ Slow burn. very much mythology. a cute love story tbh. the ending is not sad i promise. i cried writing this. its a bit angsty. jungwoo is an idiot on this one. 

“Sisyphus was a Greek god condemned by the gods for eternity to repeatedly roll a boulder up a hill only to have it roll down again once he got it to the top” he stopped to take a breath, “it’s an allegory for the human search of meaning and the absurdity of it” he still spoke while smiling at the horizon in front of it. 

“You’re born, you learn how to walk, you go to school, university, work…one day, just as you entered this world, you quietly exit it… and the world goes on, the earth still spins, and the indifference continues.”

Your mind was spinning around with everything he was saying. But it made sense. “Most people continue to live some version of this every day of their lives, just as Sisyphus gets ready to push the boulder back up for eternity, but…” he stopped to look back at you finally. 

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[heerecs]

Delphinium

genre: demigod!au, strangers(ish)-to-lovers, pjo(?)!au, son of hades!yuta, daughter of Demeter!reader (angst, hurt/comfort, some fluff, not a sad ending)  pairing/s: Yuta / Reader  word count: 12k+  tw: mentions of suicide, loss of a loved one, mild panic attack symptoms, dealing with grief taglist: @infnteen​ a/n: pls read this! I contemplated a lot on whether to post this because I was dealing with some personal things and really needed to get some things out of my system and I did that through writing this. I can’t begin to recount how much I cried while writing this but I address a lot of heavy emotions in the course of this fic and if you’re not comfortable with that I wouldn’t suggest that you read it. But like I said, the reason why I wrote this was really to escape and find comfort in situations that I was struggling to navigate in my head and I hope that for whoever it resonates with, it brings you the comfort and hope that it brought me.  

Yuta always enjoyed it when summer came around. He loved the ticklish feeling of his perspiration as it ran down his neck. He loved the way he would have to squint his eyes from the glare of the sun as he hiked, the way the water would always feel cold no matter how warm he felt.

Yuta looked forward to summer, because no matter how camp half-blood treated him, nature always gave him a warm welcome.

The weather turned cold when June came around.

Yuta didn’t notice it at first, nor did anyone else. Because camp half-blood was practically buzzing with excitement for the upcoming games and activities planned for the duration of summer. Everyone had already arrived at the campsite, some even arriving early (cough cough, the Poseidon kids) because they were just that excited to get their summer’s worth of fun and more.

Yuta only realised something was off when it started getting too cold to just leave the windows open and wear just a tank top and shorts in the Hades cabin. He didn’t think it was a coincidence that the buzzing had started revolving around something (or someone) else entirely, rumours about one of Demeter’s daughters making their way around the camp within mere hours of your arrival.

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[heerecs]

my best friend wants to be abducted by aliens.

pairing: son of athena!renjun x daughter of aphrodite!reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 14.6k (this was supposed to be 5k 😌)

author’s note: hi so here is renjun’s chapter to my 00 line x camp half-blood series (i’m sorry, i know it took forever)! thank you so much for all of the support, and i hope you enjoy 💞

warning: one (1) makeout session

You are currently crouched behind a cluster of bushes, trying to get a glimpse of your targets through binoculars. 

Does that sound stalkerish? Perhaps. 

Are you actually a stalker? Debatable. 

However, no matter how suspicious it looks, your motive is pure—for the most part. 

You’re spying on Kang Daniel (son of Hermes) and Park Jihyo (daughter of Apollo), both of whom are at the Archery Range. Jihyo is showing Daniel how to shoot, encasing him with her arms as she nocks the arrow for him. The tips of his ears are so red that they could practically be a flare; you can see how flamboyant they are all the way from your hiding spot. 

You start grinning like a maniac, excited that your plan is finally unfolding. 

You had noticed how awful Daniel was at archery during a training session a couple weeks ago, and you casually suggested to him that he should ask Jihyo for some lessons. You’ve always known that Daniel has been hopelessly in love with Jihyo since the moment he saw her (it’s a child of Aphrodite thing—you can just sense it), but she’s been oblivious to it this entire time. 

Well, until now. 

Just as you guessed, sparks flew immediately. You could cut the sexual tension between them with a knife. You give them a couple more passionately-charged archery lessons before they inevitably surrender to their emotions and begin to date—and your predictions are never wrong. 

“Another job well done, Y/N,” you mumble proudly to yourself, “Mom would be so proud.”

“Excuse me, ma’am. I’m going to have to ask you to stop loitering by these bushes and stalking those two campers over there, or else I’ll have to report you to the camp director,” a sudden voice from behind you says. 

Letting out a loud yelp, you drop your binoculars in surprise and whip your head around to see who it is. You turn so fast that you almost fall backwards into said bushes, quickly using your palms to balance yourself. 

“Renjun, you asshole!” 

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[heerecs]

Prompt

A can visit people in dreams. They use this power to explore the dreamscapes of those that they want to know more about, interacting with them in ways they never would in real life. Fortunately, the people they visit usually forget their dreams upon waking, or only remember a blurry idea of A. That is, until A enters the dream of a lucid dreamer, B, who seeks them out in the waking world for answers. When A dares to enter B’s dreamscape once again, they discover that B has the terrifying ability to trap A in their dream with them.

- Lynn

[heerecs]

fishes of the same pond

synopsis. a book. a boy. a shelf at the empty side of the library. and a sweet little spin of fate with romance and some pining. what could go wrong?

pairing. miya osamu x gn!reader.

genre. one-shot; fluff; angst; strangers/idiots to lovers; college au; fake-dating au.

word count. 12.5k (i know, i’m sorry)

warnings. swearing; miya dialect lmao; reader and osamu are both idiots.

author’s notes. this fic follows the japanese school year, not to be confused with an american school year! goes from april to the next year in march, with breaks in between :)

navigation. main menu, hq menu.

Your day was not going well. You overslept, the coffee shop was filled to the brim with teenagers(the barista said something about high schools taking a field trip to Tokyo), and you forgot to bring the printed copy of your essay into class for English. 

(You were lucky it was your best subject.)

And now here you were, the bell ringing as you packed up your laptop and textbook in your Economics class. You sighed, the weather was surely getting hotter. Soon you’d have to put the sweater vests you liked wearing in the depths of your closet and pull out t-shirts instead. Spring break had just finished, and here you were in your second year in college. It was April, and school had just started this month. 

You threw your backpack over your shoulder, brushing your hair away from your face with your hands as you walked down the stairs. You were going to head to the library now to finish up a few projects and get some reading done. It was usually fairly empty during this time of the day as classes just finished. People would start piling in here in an hour or two, so you think you’ll have some free time before you can head to your part-time job. 

You hang your backpack by its straps on a chair before heading to a part of the library which isn’t frequently visited. Your eyes dart around the section, and then you see it. You get on your tippy-toes, your hand touching the spine of the book. The glossy cobalt finishing of it feels good against your fingers. You huff as you jump a little, not being able to pull the book from its spot.

Who made these shelves? You think angrily, They’re made for athletes and brutes, not for people with average height. 

You narrow your eyes, before jumping yet again. But then someone is behind you, and a larger hand is reaching for the same book you are. You turn around, confused and eyebrows furrowed. A boy with grey hair stands there, holding the book you want, as he asks, “The other one got checked out already, ya think ya can lend this to me for a bit?”

He’s pretty, you ponder.

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[heerecs]

stars on your ceiling — yang jungwon

; you’ve heard countless stories of how your parents met, and of the vivid dreams that brought the two of them together. still, once you begin to have soulmate dreams of your own, it’s hard to enjoy getting to know your supposed other half when your best friend occupies your thoughts instead (and when your soulmate doesn’t remember these shared dreams ever happening).

PAIRING yang jungwon x gn!reader

GENRE soulmate au but not really, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff + angst

WARNINGS semi-graphic desc. of injury, knives, derealization?, mc has a father and a mother i’m sorry for heteronormativity ㅠㅠ, mentions of food, swimming in the ocean, calculus…, rly dramatic for ltrly no reason

WORD COUNT 21.7k

LISTEN Can’t We Just Leave the Monster Alive? by TOMORROW X TOGETHER. MIST and INCEPTION by ATEEZ. Butterfly by BTS. Lovers’ Oath by Yu-Peng Chen, HOYO-MIX (i imagine this playing in the background in the mountains).

note i think this fic holds a special place in my heart as the first really long, plot-focused thing i’ve written. it was a very long process, especially since writing coincided with my final exams, but thank u for being patient with me and i hope it was worth the wait! + a huge huge huge thank you to @enhyphoria, @moonsluvr, @yyunari, & @jungwonize for being my beta(reader)s and helping me to edit this fic!! i love and appreciate u all so much <3 

+ as always, please reblog if you enjoy, since it helps a lot with tumblr’s algorithm! any and all feedback is also very appreciated!

I. WAKING FROM A FAMILIAR DREAM

IT BEGINS IN THE MOUNTAINS. 

Your eyes flutter open, then immediately narrow as they’re met with a flash of almost painfully bright light. A hand moves quickly to shade your face, and through the gaps in your fingers, you see hints of the bright, golden sky.

You feel the cool, slightly damp touch of morning dew against the back of your neck and the prickle of wild grass caressing your arms, so lucid that you almost believe you’d been kidnapped and brought to the middle of some natural reserve as you slept. 

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[heerecs]

jungwon’s story

tw: stalking, kidnapping, violence, murder

yang jungwon was always such a good boy to his parents, teachers and peers. he was a kind soul, offering his help to classmates with assignments, staying after class to help teachers clean, and even doing extra chores around his home to please his parents. they called him an angel sent from heaven, the one with a smile to lighten a room, a laugh to fill a heart with joy. as jungwon grew up, nothing seemed to change, he was still a smiling, king and helpful young man; nobody would have every foreseen the events that took place in the future…

deep down, jungwon always had an intense inner turmoil about his romantic feelings. he was always told by his mother that when you love someone, your heart will beat fast, you will feel happier and you will feel safe. once he reached high school, jungwon thought he finally encountered that feeling when he laid his eyes on that one person. it was you, the one who made his heart feel like it was about to implode, the one who made him feel so euphoric that his cheeks hurt from smiling, the one who gave him so much anxiety when he went too long without seeing your face. suddenly jungwon wasn’t so sure he enjoyed being in love…

there was danger everywhere, you were constantly at risk of being bullied, preyed on by creepy teachers, snatched away while walking home from school, god, what if you get hit by a car?! yang jungwon wanted so badly to swoop you into his arms like a superhero and carry you to safety, but how could he? everytime he saw you, it felt like he was about to pass out from lack of oxygen. how was he supposed to keep you safe if he was always so nervous around you? the boy thought it over and eventually, he devised a plan to ensure your safety and well-being. jungwon asked his teachers to switch around his classes so that he was always around you, it was easier to watch you this way. now all he had to do was watch and make sure you were okay, right?

it wasn’t that easy.. jungwon completely overlooked his other concern when he was distracted with your safety, love interests. it hit him in the face like a bag of bricks when he saw another classmate, lim suho, hand you a bottle of juice in the morning with a charming smile. you smiled and thanked the other boy by hugging him tightly, and jungwon swore that he was about to break something. his anger was so intense that he needed to step out and walk into the bathroom to splash his face with water. he took five minutes to calm himself before reevaluating his plan. he needed to find a way to get this other guy away from his love.

unfortunately, jungwon would not be able to carry out a normal and coordinated plan, because the next day when he arrived at school, he saw something that made him absolutely enraged. the day had ended and while everyone was collecting their bags and leaving the campus, jungwon was walking to his home room to collect his backpack. he slid open the door and stepped inside, only to freeze in his tracks at the sight that met his eyes. it was you and suho, kissing deeply and embracing eachother tightly. at the sound of jungwon entering, you two backed away from eachother and went to explain yourselves, but it fell upon deaf ears.

jungwon was livid, he never felt so much anger in his life and he wanted nothing more than to beat lim suho to death with his bear hands; but at that point… what was stopping him? he completely blacked out and his memory of the next coming events became blurry, but all he remembered was your horrified screaming and coming to his sensing on the ground, kneeling in front of a bloody mess that is…. was suho. he gasped and stood up, staring at his blood soaked hands before turning his attention to you, pupils blown wide. your hands were covering your mouth as you screamed and tears were all over your face, and the next sight only added to your horror.

a wicked grin started to grow on his face, an ear to ear smile you’d expect to see only in cartoons. you couldn’t get a chance to run, within seconds jungwon pounced and tackled you to the floor, pinning you under his weight. “shh! shhhh… pretty, it’s okay, i’m gonna take better care of you than he could ever dream of.” his sickly sweet voice rang through your ears as his blood stained fingers dragged down your face.

that night, both jungwon’s and your faces and descriptions were plastered on every news station in korea. you were reported as kidnapped and your parents begged locals to help find you. jungwon…? his parents sat silently in the police station as detectives informed them that their son is on the run.. and wanted for murder.

[heerecs]

MIND'S VOICE ♡ PAIRING. JAY X READER GENRE. SLICE OF LIFE, ROYAL!AU WC. 0.744 / WARN. NON

blue moon occurrences are as common as the number of times jay questions his feelings towards anyone he has met more than thrice. once his impression is set, it takes longer for it to change especially for someone he sees as infrequently as you and yet, his thoughts often echo your name in all shades of emotions—he doesn't know enough to form an impression but he knows enough to know that his mind's voice is putting you in a loop.

"have you seen the princess?" his companion asks, the ballroom going in circles as the dancing begins and the orchestra sings, he has yet to meet your gaze but his eyes never left you.

"by the stairs, i think the delegates are saying their greetings," jay replies, placing the wine glass back on the waiter's tray and hurriedly tapping his friend to signal his leaving.

he had one goal coming to the ball, he'd usually not attend if his circle of nobles weren't going. tonight, it is just him.

following your quiet steps as you slip away to the terrace, he enters from the other door. watching you sigh heavily, leaning on the railing as he walks towards you but your ears catch the sound of his dress shoes, a smile enamouring him immediately. "how unusual," you tease, straightening your posture and tilting your head.

"i was curious—about the delegation—and... and also about your engagement," he bites his lips, blinking as he looks away from your half-lid eyes. "you turned them down," jay said, fighting the smile that tried to show, his cheeks dusting with embarrassment.

"yes," you nod, your fingers entangling with his and you pull his closer, speaking in a whisper, "you didn't mean it when you told me to accept it—a great political match or whatever. but what about you, aren't you also a great political match, sir prince in a foreign land?"

his head feels dizzy, heat from his neck shooting upwards as soon as your hand falls on his chest. you aren't always so bold when the eyes of the public are just beyond the unlocked doors. prince or what, jay didn't think anyone would be a better fit than him.

"you know i love you," he sighs, snaking his arms around your waist and you shake your head, "then why did you tell me to go ahead? you made me feel pathetic for trying to court you," your voice is not as sharp as your words and yet his chest tightens, he knows he shouldn't have done that but he was the one who previously said he didn't want to get married to you.

first impressions, he wasn't in love with you until he said everything he had to say about your blunt yet people-pleasing way of courtroom behaviour. he wasn't in love with you until he saw behind the facade of the prim and proper princess who did her duty well. all it took was one conversation without the filters for him to fall for you and it came after all the opinions were shared, he backed out the minute he realised he looks hypocritical for falling for you after denying your good qualities earlier.

it was a continuous loop of wanting you and wanting his reputation, especially for a prince far from home.

"i am sorry... i was an idiot and i didn't think much about what i was saying until i went home—i won't let you get engaged to anyone. can you wait till i ask my parents to send an official request?" jay inhales sharply at your lack of response, you hug him and stay quiet.

your eyes blinking towards him, he feels your head nod and you smile at him, "of course, i can wait but what changed your mind?" you ask, your voice muffled but he hears everything.

"my mind wouldn't shut up about how stupid that was and i kept thinking about you and how you'll be engaged the next i see you and how i really didn't want that even if i was the one who said you should go ahead with it. i should've just told everyone i love you now that i know you more than beside—i don't know what was so hard about that—they probably wouldn't even think about twice,"

"you can breathe, jay," you chuckle, tightening your grip on him and he sighs, mimicking you. "i am glad your mind's voice is smarter than you are,"

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