#i can't feel warmth anymore right now. it feels so cold n empty n lonely

[mihawkhugs]

peach shampoo

haikyuu | miya atsumu x reader | soulwords

a/n : i'm sorry in advance i think?

Miya Atsumu couldn't help but stare at the champagne coloured bottle of shampoo, that sat quietly against the pristine white shelves of the store. The familiar label, the adorable butt shape he used to tease you about, the smell of peach that reminded him of you, it was all nothing but bitter memories now. 

As he picked up the bottle, he couldn't help but rub the soul words on his wrist. What was once coloured a beautiful ebony, had faded into a murky grey, looking lifeless, looking sick, looking gone. As he puts the shampoo into his cart, Miya Atsumu can't help but think of you, of your laugh, of your smile, of your patience and kindness, of your 4, almost 5 years together. 

He can't help but muse, almost dazedly, about how things seemed to end so quickly, and how your blissful times seemed to end so suddenly. 

All because of him. 

Habits are a terrifying thing. You've become so ingrained into every aspect of his life so subtly, that your departure had him feeling frustrated, upset, and most of all, terrified at how deep he had fallen. 

He couldn't fall asleep at night anymore, not when the bed felt so empty, so cold, so alone. Not when there's no one there to entangle themselves with him, stroking his hair, mumbling his name, smelling of peaches and of home. 

Sometimes, at his games, whenever he did a particularly nasty serve, Miya Atsumu jumps for joy, looking for you in the crowds to boast about. But you didn't watch his games anymore, you didn't even come. And Miya Atsumu couldn't help but feel so alone, despite his thousands of fans cheering for him, and his team mates beside him, rejoicing in their win.

He never knew that cheers could make him feel so lonely when they weren't yours. 

When he comes home, Atsumu can't help but anticipate your voice, soft, sleepy and full of love and warmth, calling out to him, "Welcome home Tsumu." He used to be annoyed with your greetings, feeling tired and grumpy from a whole day of training. Your questions bothered him, your tone annoyed him, and he'd give you a look so cold, said words so mean, that hell could have frozen over, and the Devil would have cried. 

But you would always come back even when he apologised half-heartedly, or not at all,  claiming you should have know to give him space, to be less clingy, to be less you. And you'd smile, with sun in your eyes, and peaches on your hair, and you'd forgive him, and come back. He thought he knew you, and was sure you would return. It was just a matter of waiting for you.

You always came back, again and again, until one day, you didn't. And his home, had never seemed so cold before. 

Your little lamps, figurines, drawings were all still in his house. When you left his life, you didn't leave everything behind, leaving behind shards and fragments of you. Your pillow still smelt faintly of your peachy scent, your workplace remained untouched, and your plants were left behind, wilting a little despite Atsumu trying his best to take good care of them. 

He missed seeing your peach shaped (or as he used to say, butt shaped) shampoo in his bathroom, which had unknowingly become a scent that he was so fond of. He missed seeing you on your desk, small hands typing slowly on your keyboard, with the most adorable focused face on earth. He missed seeing your warm smile, that made him feel like he had eaten his grandmother's cooking again. He missed hearing your laugh, they way your snorted, the way your right eye crinkled more than your left, they way your dimples would flash. 

Too bad he didn't miss them soon enough. 

Sometimes he'd remember you, sitting on your couch, gently touching your soul words, as though they were the most fragile thing on earth. You believed in love, so so much, despite growing up in a broken household. You had loved him the way you loved your cat, the way you loved your books, the way you loved life.  You treated him as though he was the most precious thing on earth, giving him undivided love and care, kissing him softly on his forehead, just as you had wished your parents had done for you. You loved, you learnt to love, because the world did not love you, and you would rather die that have anyone grow up loveless, cold. 

But Miya Atsumu didn't believe in love. Not when he had girls throwing themselves at him, not when he was praised as the best setter in Japan. He would make snide comments about your weight, your clothes, the was you smiled, the way you talked. He was the best of the best, the cream of the crop, and to his disdain and disgust, you didn't fit into his expectations of a soulmate. So he sought out love in other places, in other people, who he believed was better, while you waited for him, at hime in the dark, oh so very alone. 

Miya Atsumu thought he had it all (thought he deserved better), until he didn't. 

As he walked through the aisles in the store, Miya Atsumu can't help but remember the day you left. 

Your once chubby cheeks had looked gaunt, and you had looked so tired, dressed messily in your peach pink shirt, and your grey sweatpants. You had a cooling pad pasted against your head, and you looked messy, and not the picture perfect fiancé he wanted you to be. 

As you were about to leave the house, Miya Atsumu had stopped you, eyes looking up and down critically against your figure, nose scrunching in distaste. He had snidely commented on you, comparing you to the beautiful blonde model who had followed him on his Instagram page. 

"You look so ugly. Why did I get stuck with you as my soulmate?"

 If Atsumu had looked up from his phone, he would have seen your face crumple and fall, heard your heart finally shatter after being hurt again, seen the exhaustion in your eyes, the bitterness and jaded look he had once seen on your divorced parents. As you hesitantly twisted your engagement ring, you left the house quietly, returning later on, with steely determination. 

But of course, Miya Atsumu didn't notice as usual, because he was too busy chatting up the hot blonde model, who had DM'ed him, showering her in compliments, sending her flirty comments. He seemed to be able to love everyone, but yourself. 

When you had returned, he was in bed, still on his phone, ignoring you as you slipped in quietly, feeling cold despite being in a heated room, with the supposed love of your life beside you.

You had taken of your ring for the first time, placing it on the dresser, placing it down alongside your hopes and dream about a kind lover, about a beautiful love, and a happy wedding. You placed down your hopes and dreams about love, and something seemed to ache so bad in your chest. 

You had turned, and smiled at Atsumu, as soft and kind as the first day you both met in high school. Your tone was as warm as usual, but what came out of your mouth was bitter, was simmering with rage, and the grief of a broken heart, and a soulmate who was never really yours. 

"You know what Atsumu? You were right, just like you always are. Love doesn't exist."

He had ignored your words, and you couldn't help but smile wistfully, looking at your soulmate who was texting someone, and what you both could have been. 

When Atsumu had come back at night the next day for training, you were gone, leaving only your non-essentials behind. He had waited for you to come back, like you always did, like he knew you would, but you never did. 

And while his house was empty, his heart felt lonelier than ever, loosing someone he never knew had become precious to him.

All that remained that night was the scent of peaches and regret. 

Miya Atsumu placed the newly bought shampoo in his bathroom, in the spot where you used to put it, "Right beside yours so we're always together!", you'd proclaim.

As he took a shower before laying in bed, admiring his new soft and scented hair, he can't help but look at the barren spot where you used to lay, reaching out for one of the plushies he had won for you, that you had cruelly left behind. 

And tonight, he prayed that the smell of peaches, would overpower the scent and ache of loneliness in his home, because you were gone, and never coming back.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 11 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

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{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

×

Guilt

The first feeling to wash over him when he opens his eyes is bliss. Pure, and utter bliss, a kind of happiness he didn't even know existed. Seeing (Y/N) peacefully sleeping on his chest is more than he deserves... And that's when it kicks in, and the joy is corrupted, overcome by guilt.

He can't believe what he did. He betrayed her on a whole other level. This isn't fair to her, not when she believes they're married. He's too buried in this lie, and last night, he did the only thing he never thought he'd do.

But how could he not? He's in love with her, he wants to be the father of her child, and there are times, and they come more often every passing day, that he's completely overcome by the fake life he's living. There are moments where Keanu is her husband. The lines are so blurry right now that he can't separate things. He can't tell the difference anymore.

Running a hand through his hair, looking at the ceiling, he smiles as she moves a little in her sleep, snuggling closer to him, a warm hand on his bare chest. (Y/N) is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. And everything drives him in. Her voice, her smile, her laughter. The way she walks, the way she talks to her unborn child when she thinks he's not listening.

He tried. He really did, but look how much he failed.

All this had an expiration date. And in the very beginning, he couldn't wait for that day. When she would remember and would go on with her life, picking it up where she left it, and forget about him. But with time, things changed. And now, he knows he can keep this up forever. (Y/N) won't remember, and Keanu can make this real. Fake the papers, he knows people who could do it. She'd be his wife.

But his love is too strong to do such a thing. He can't bring himself to do this. He has to tell her, everything. The lie, the reason, and explain it wasn't his idea. He also needs to tell her about his feelings, because they're the only real thing in this mess. And if the heavens listen to his prayers, if some kind of miracle happens, maybe, just maybe, she'd still love him. Marry him, for real this time.

Keanu could only hope. The pregnancy is not at risk anymore, and despite the doctors saying he should still keep the act, Dr. Harris assured him (Y/N) is strong enough now. And he has to tell her. And so he will. He just needs some time away from all this, away from this place, to enjoy this while he still can because he knows how insane it is. That the chances are she'll go to Argentina with her mother-in-law, and he'll never see her again. And if that really happens, he won't blame her.

Because after everything he did, for taking her as if she was his last night, he doesn't deserve this bliss. But he wants it, and he can't bring himself to end this without some more time with her. Something he will remember and cherish for the rest of this life if this is bound to break.

The morning light is what welcomes you back to consciousness. Closing your eyes tight before opening them up, you take a deep breath. The air is cold, you can feel it on your bare shoulders, but the warmth coming from Keanu keeps you from complaining. The first thing you remember is what happened last night, and your cheeks go red. Smiling a little, you softly caress Keanu's chest with your thumb, not sure if he's awake yet.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He says, and your smile only gets brighter. You love the pet name.

“Morning.” Pushing yourself up with your elbows, you place a kiss on his chest, right on his heart, then on his collarbone before finally reaching his lips. “Did you sleep well?” The question was supposed to be simple, but the smirk comes from somewhere inside you and you're sure it just changed the intonation of the thing.

“Very well.” He mutters, a hand coming to caress your cheek. Keanu sounds weird, a weight on his voice.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you let yourself sink back to bed, lying beside him. “Did I... Did I do something wrong last night?” You can't help but ask, the euphoria vanishing quickly as you try to understand why he seems so... Sad.

“Of course not.” Turning on his side and encircling your waist with a strong arm, pulling you closer, he shakes his head lightly. “It was amazing. You were amazing.”

“Then what's wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, sweetheart. Everything is so perfect that it looks like a dream.” As he speaks, you move closer, feeling as his hand rubs the small of your back.

“Uhm... I think–” The doorbell cuts you off. “Who could that be?” It sounds like a whine.

“Lucia.”

“What?” Moving away from him, you sit up. “What is she doing here?”

“She came to visit you.”

“Oh...” Who could blame you for forgetting she was coming today? You're not a fan of her, and what's going on here is far better. “Can't we just–” The cold air on your torso makes you pull the sheets to shield your body, trying really hard not to let Keanu notice how red you must be. “Can't we just pretend we're not here and stay the whole day in bed?” You're not even done speaking when the doorbells rings again.

“She already dislikes me, if you don't show up, it'll make it even worse.” Sitting up, he pulls you into a kiss. “I'll dress up and open the door for her. Go take a shower. I'll make you something to eat.”

“Alright.” Sighing, you purposely climb past him to get off the bed. Keanu gives you a look, that you choose to ignore, pulling the sheets with you as you move to the bathroom.

“One more thing.” He calls out, right before you close the bathroom door shut.

“What?”

“You don't need to cover up. You're beautiful.”

Moving to the side so the door will hide your face, you bite your lip. “Thanks, babe.” You manage to push out, closing the door.

Once you're done washing yourself, you put your hair up on a ponytail and a light blue dress. Taking one of Keanu's hoodies to protect you from the coat, you move downstairs, and the only reason why you're smiling is because you smell of bacon. It was the first breakfast Keanu made you, and it feels kinda nostalgic. It is one of the oldest memories you have.

“(Y/N),” Lucia calls as you're making your way to the kitchen. Keanu looks over his shoulder, and you give him a forced smile before turning on your heels and moving to the living room. “I missed you so much!” Lucia pulls you into a hug.

“Hi, Lucia. How's everything?” You don't like Lucia. And Lucia doesn't like your husband. And Keanu, being a gentleman, won't admit he can't stand her, but you know that's how he feels.

“I'm great. Tell me about you.” You both move to the couch, taking a seat. “How's the baby? Have you come up with a name yet?”

“We're still thinking... But we agreed on not telling people until we know for sure.” Deciding to just let it out before she asks, you try not to let her notice you feel a little uncomfortable when she touches your belly.

“Have you... Have you considered Daniel?” Lucia asks, her voice breaking a little. Shrugging your shoulders, you shake your head no. “D-doesn't this name mean anything to you?”

Obviously not. But you won't be a bitch about it. “No, it doesn't.”

“Alright.” She mumbles, clearing her throat. “So, how's this little one?”

“He's great.” You say, a hand coming to your belly.

“Or she,” Keanu adds, and you roll your eyes.

“Quit spying on me, babe.” You raise your voice, and there's only a low giggle in response.

“Is he spying on you?” Despite the clear joking tone you had, Lucia sounds... Genuinely worried.

Chuckling at her expression, you sigh. “We're just joking around, Lucia.”

“Honey...” She takes both your hands on hers, as she does right before telling you how you can trust her if Keanu does anything. It's quite tiring, actually. She can't seem to understand he's a good person. Maybe it's the age thing... But that's not her business.

“I know what you'll say, Mrs. Davis, and I assure you there's nothing to worry about. Keanu is a gentleman, he hasn't pushed me into anything.” You don't want to talk to her about that, but you don't have a choice. Every time this happens, you just hope to say the right thing to make her let it go. “Everything we've done was because I was ready.”

“What do you mean by everything you've done?” Her tone changes suddenly, a lot harsher than before, and her hands squeeze yours.

You weren't talking about that... And you didn't think that was exactly where her mind would float too. “Mrs. Davis, this is between me and Keanu.”

She giggles, fake and loud, and in a sudden motion, Lucia gets up, walking fast to the kitchen. “What did you do to her?” She's already yelling when you finally reach the kitchen, a finger on Keanu's face.

“Mrs. Davis, I–” He starts, but you won't let him do this. Lucia was your mother's ‘friend’, or so she says, and you won't let her put Keanu in this position.

“What do you think you're doing?” Moving to stand between him and Lucia, you raise her voice above hers. “What gives you the right to come to my house, put your nose in my life, and yell at my husband?” Being rude wasn't the intention, but you're suddenly angry. Blame it on the hormones, blame it on the fact that you don't like Lucia at all, or on the fact that she ruined a perfectly good morning.

“Am I supposed to smile and nod when you go around letting him have you?” Her disgusted tone takes you by surprise. Why is she talking like this? What's wrong with this woman?

“My private life is not your business, and if you haven't been paying attention, Keanu is my husband.” Stepping forward, you stare into her eyes. “And I won't have you talking like this.”

Lucia laughs, pacing around a little, a hand covering her mouth as if you just told a joke.

“This man is not–”

“That's enough.” Keanu suddenly shouts, and it startles both of you. You never heard him yelling, and that's completely new. “I won't let you speak like that in my house. I know you're important to (Y/N), but the only thing I won't allow is you ruining her progress. If you keep this up, I'll have to let her doctor know about your behavior around his patient.”

After his thunder voice is gone, you're left in silence. Deep, uncomfortable, tense silence. Lucia seems to be broken though, her face dropped, and both her arms rest on the sides of her body. “I think you should leave now, Mrs. Davis.” You say in a low voice.

She nods, eyes on Keanu. “You'll pay for what you're doing.” Is the last thing she says before storming away, taking her purse and leaving the house, pulling the front door so violently you wonder if she broke something.

Running a hand through your hair, you take a deep breath, turning at Keanu. “What the hell was that?” You mutter, still trying to understand that just happened.

“Are you alright?” He comes closer, and you immediately collapse on his chest.

“I'm alright. She's a bitch.”

“Don't think about it. Let's eat.”

Nodding, you wash yesterday's dishes as he finishes breakfast, and you both sit down to eat. Power is back, thankfully, so you decide to watch some TV as he showers. Laura calls, and you invite her over for dinner. Keanu will have a co-worker, so you'll just need to add another plate. And, after all this, you need to talk to someone.

You're skipping through the channels when Keanu comes back downstairs, and when he settles down next to you, you immediately snuggle closer, until you're pretty much lying down, and you're the little spoon, back pressed against his chest.

“I invited Laura for dinner.” You tell him, still looking for something to watch.

“Are you planning on setting her up with Robert?”

“Is Robert single?” You didn't have this in mind, but now you do.

“He is.”

“Then I'm setting her up with Robert.” You quickly make your mind, carefully turning around on the couch so you're facing Keanu. “I'm sorry, by the way. I didn't think Lucia would explode like that.”

“It's alright, beautiful.” He smiles, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I was thinking... We should take a trip. Two weeks and only if your doctors say it's alright, of course. Just so we could stay away from all this for a while.”

Smiling, you peck his lips. “I'd love that. Could we go to the beach?”

“Wherever you want, sweetheart.”

“Will it... Will it be like a second honeymoon?” You can't remember the first, but you figure it's no good to bring this up now.

Keanu giggles, caressing your chin with his thumb and index finger. “Anything you want.”

“Well, I'll need a new bikini because these two won't feet on the one I have.” You gesture at your breasts, still growing a little. “I could call Laura and we could go shopping.”

“Let me talk to the doctors first. Because there's no way I'm taking you away if they think it will be dangerous.” Keanu reminds you, raising an eyebrow.

“Alright, sir.” Moving on the couch, you start climbing on him, until you're straddling his hips. “But one day I'll be one hundred percent fine. And this won't be a problem anymore.”

“Of course.”

“So... Did you lock the front door?” You ask, placing both your hands on his chest.

“I did. Why?” When you don't answer, but just smiles and sits up, arms around your waist as he captures your lips on a kiss.

• • •

Laura has a perplexed expression on her face as you tell about Lucia. You don't mean to gossip, but Laura is pretty much your best friend, and you need someone from outside to help you understand what the hell happened. Seated on the downstairs balcony, you cross your arms, leg bouncing as you let out the whole story.

“That's crazy.” Laura bursts out. “I get it that you're important to her and everything, but you're an adult, even though you lost your memory. And you have the right to make your own decisions.”

“Thank you.” You breathe out, throwing a hand in the air. “She snapped out of nowhere. And the way she spoke to Keanu? God, I almost considered slapping her in the face.” This makes you giggle, and so does Laura.

“Look, I was... Quite unsure of this in the beginning. But I wanted you to figure things out on your own, and let you know I was there if something happened.” That's true. Laura is always around, and, if anything backfired, if something bad happened between you and Keanu, she'd be the first person you'd call for help. “And with time, I saw that you were doing fine. And I know you love him, and he loves you. I'm sure because I spoke to him myself.” With a sassy smile, she leans back, resting against the chair.

“You did what?”

“I spoke to him.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Nothing matters to me. The age difference, the memory loss, it doesn't matter. The important thing is the feeling. So yes, I called him and had a long conversation about you, and I'm convinced that man in there loves you more than anything. You and this baby.”

Laura sounds so damn sure it brings tears to your eyes. Covering your face with both hands, you start crying. “Stupid hormones!” You exclaim, body shaking with the sobs.

“Oh, (Y/N).” She gets up and hugs you, bending down a little. “I didn't mean to make you cry.”

“It's from happiness, so don't worry.” Calming down, you take a deep breath as she pulls a nearby chair and sits next to you. “Anyway... I'm setting you up with Robert tonight. Keanu's friend and co-worker.” You mutter, wiping the tears away. “So let me know if you like him or not, alright?”

“Alright.” She agrees with an eye roll.

Despite having your mind floating to two different things: you and Keanu, and Lucia's outburst, you manage to enjoy dinner. Robert is kind, and you do think this whole thing with him and Laura could work out.

But in the next days, what you really want to know it about the trip. Things have been getting even better between you and Keanu, you're growing a lot closer now that you're both living like a married couple. And going somewhere else with him would be absolutely amazing. At first, Dr. Wright says it's alright, but some exams will be needed to see if it would be safe. Dr. Harris on the other hand said that you're ready. Your mind is ready, and you hope with all your heart that your body is too.

It takes too many days for Dr. Wright and the others to finally allow you to go. But only for two weeks, and whatever you'll be staying, it has to be near a hospital, just in case. Keanu said something about having a helicopter ready to take you back to New York if something happens, but you don't want to believe he'd do such a thing.

But when you're getting inside the plane, heading to Miami, you're cheerful. You're determined to make this trip amazing, for both of you. This is a mark, a rite of passage. From this day on, you'll forget what happened, you'll forget that you lost something. You can either suffer for the rest of your life for everything you lost or enjoy what you have. And you'll enjoy it because what you have right now is wonderful.

×

@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina @playboygeniusphilanthropist @partypoison00 @mariafetamina @fortheloveoffanfic @trin303

[liibrii]

Chapter 1: Still the same

Ojiro Aran x fem!reader

Synopsis: In Aran's eyes you've always been someone he could lean onto. Before you lost touch after graduating that was. Now that you've found a way back into his life, cracking under the weight of the world, he's determined to be there for you as you were for him. It really is only the question of time before he falls in love with you again but he soon starts to realise he might not know you all that well to begin with...

Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, friends to lovers

Warnings: timeskip spoilers, internalised guilt and shame, intrusive thoughts, self doubt, depression, anxiety, swearing, use of alcohol

wc: 3.1k

a/n: if you wanna be tagged lemme know. as always feedback is greatly appreciated!  a big thanks to @rosecaffelatte​ for the help with header and dividers!

“I dig the new look. But why just the beard, why not grow some nice moustache too? You could twirl them during matches. Like some super volleyball villain.“

Aran's coffee goes down the wrong pipe. “Is that how ya see me?” he asks during coughs.

Years later and your laughter still sounds the same. Warmth spreading through him is still the same. It's been a few months since you moved to Tokyo to finish your degree. “Better late than never, right?“ you told him the first time you got coffee together. An unfamiliar bitterness laced your voice then.

“Me? No. But the opponent might.“ You add some sugar to your cup before making a sip. Aran remembers seeing your favourite drink on the menu and wonders why you ordered something else. Maybe you just don't like it anymore. It has been some time since he last saw you.

Almost four years to be exact. Has it really been that long? He remembers the reunion as if it happened yesterday and graduation only a day before.

“We're graduating in a few days so I made you all a little something.“ You pulled neatly wrapped gifts from your bag. “Don't look so suspicious.“Seeing team's faces made you scrunch up your nose. “It's just a framed picture.“

You made one for everyone, even the first years who were merely bench warmers. It's the picture of the entire team taken after you returned from your last nationals. Aran remembers vividly how insistent you were on hanging team banner in the background. 'We don't need memories.' “But I sure do,“ you joked.

There's a hand written message on the back side. A different note for every single member.

“Take that 'Tsumu!“ shouted Osamu back then and pushed his frame under Atsumu's nose, “Look here, 'Don't tell 'Tsumu but yer my favourite twin!'“

Atsumu sneered at his brother: “What're ya talkin' about? 'Tsum-Tsum yer on the way of becomin' the best setter the world has ever known. And don't tell 'Samu but yer my favourite twin!' Take that ya pig!“

Aran laughed with the rest of the team. How typical that you would play twins against each other to create chaos. 'Aran,' his note read, 'don't forget to stretch properly after practice! And please, never sprain your ankle during matches. World doesn't have to know all your socks have holes in them.'

The first time he noticed your absence in his life was only months after graduating. The volleyball club manager who yelled at the cheering squad in front of the entire gymnasium for making a first year cry during a practice match. Fearless.

You were there when he needed someone to lean onto. With a snack and a sports drink, staying late just to make sure he didn't go overboard with practice. A light slap on his shoulders when he was wallowing in self doubt. On the days it got especially bad you pulled a pack of ritz crackers from your secret stash of snacks and bought him a drink on the way home. Sometimes you'd sit on the stone fence by the crossroad where your path home diverged, gossiping for hours about your classmates and teachers. Aran found it so easy to tell you all the trouble weighing on his mind. Be it about school or volleyball, you listened. Even when he knew he was talking nonsense, even when he knew his worries were just unfounded doubts you listened.

“Better to try and fail than to never try at all,“ you once told him.

Aran's lips curved into a small smile. “Where did ya read that? Some ancient philosopher?“

“No, it's a song.“ You pulled out your phone from the pocket and offered him a headphone. “Wanna listen to it?“

It really was no surprise he fell in love with you.

But he never spoke of how his breath caught in his throat, how his heart pounded whenever you were around. How could he when he had always known that look of pure love and adoration in your eyes would never be meant for him?

How could it be when you were so obviously in love with Kita?

No matter how much his heart ached for you he had to admit you and Kita were a match made in heaven. Years later and he still remembers the pictures in your room, you and Kita aged five or so holding hands, bruised knees and dirty cheeks, you and Kita on your first day of elementary school, you and Kita graduating Middle school. You and Kita joining volleyball club together. You and Kita locking pinkies on the way home. You and Kita. Always you and Kita.

He was so jealous back then. It drained so much of his energy trying to prevent the sneering beast from taking over. So much suppressed emotions trying to protect the friendship he to this day holds so dear. But no matter what he did he couldn't prevent his insides clenching every time you took Kita's hand. Well, why did he even expect you'd chose anyone but him? You've known him your entire life. Kita was your best friend from before either of you even knew what that meant. He understood you better than anyone. Why would you ever choose anyone but him?

For years you were happy and for years Aran believed he had moved on. Once in passing Kita even bashfully mentioned marriage. Aran congratulated his friend, even looked at engagement rings with him. That night he cam home and collapsed on the bed dazed from emotions erupting back to the surface. In his lonely, empty apartment he cried his eyes out. Never before had he been so angry at himself. He believed he was over you. And with one single sentence from Kita vines carrying your name sprouted thorns and pierced his heart.

He was a terrible friend, wasn't he? Perhaps this was his punishment for wishing you were in his arms instead. You are happy, right? So why can't that be enough? Even if it's with someone else, if he really loved you then knowing you are happy should be all that matters, right?

You were happy. Until you weren't. Aran was never glad to learn you and Kita broke up. But he wasn't sad either.

“I always thought ya and Shinsuke were gonna be it.“

Warm sunlight dances over your face. You stare out the window, the gaze of your eyes sorrowful. Aran doesn't remember ever seeing you sad. You've always been the happy one, the one capable of lifting others' spirits no matter how bad it was.

You stir your drink. “I thought so too.“ When you lean back your eyes still search for something in the street. “But that's how it goes you know, sooner or later you realise you've been wrong. One way or another.“

You're trying to sound carefree and Aran's heart cracks a little. Why are you trying so hard to conceal the pain? Don't you trust him?

You are still his friend. He's starting to think that maybe... Maybe he isn't yours anymore. He shouldn't have brought up Kita. Idiot.

“Our semi-final match is next week. Ya comin'?“

Before you answer a small voice chimes in. “Uhm, excuse me? Ojiro-san?“ The boy's eyes sparkle with excitement as he asks for an autograph and a picture and Aran's more than happy to oblige. Two other kids show up and then their parents and some of the guests who had been throwing glances at your table for some time. Aran takes his time taking pictures and exchanging pleasantries. Meeting fans is the one aspect of being a renown athlete he likes.

When he turns back at you there's a fond smile on your face. “Remember those times when you thought you had no future in volleyball because you didn't get invited to youth training camp?“ Your voice softens. “Look at you now. Ojiro Aran, outside hitter of Japan's National Team.“

The light trace of pride in your voice makes his face heat up. “I was lucky to have friends who believed in me.“

“True. I better get going, my shift stars in an hour.“ You stand up and collect your things. “Talk to you later!“

What little of time you spent together always seemed to fly past too rapidly. Aran watches through the window as you hurry down the street. His coffee has gotten cold.

His spike wins them the semi-finals. In the eruption of cheering he can't hear your voice but he does see you bouncing on your heels right beside his family. You're wearing his jersey. Not a replica, it's the same jersey he wore the last season. You jumped from happiness when you opened the present. One more for your small collection of former teammates' jerseys.

Aran beams and waves in your direction. If he could he'd run over to hug and spin you around just like he used to do back in high school but he's called away. By the time interviews are over you're long gone. A part of him really hoped you would wait for him. Just like you did back in high school. All there is is a message telling him he was amazing and you're proud of him. His heart swells and for the rest of the day nothing can wipe the wide grin off of his face.

At the after party alcohol runs in rivers. Since there's no practice scheduled for tomorrow his teammates go wild. Aran downs his fifth or sixth shot having lost count a while ago. He's warm and giddy, from the victory, the alcohol, the girl on his lap running her hands up and down his chest. What was her name again? She pulls him to the dance floor, her hair is the same colour as yours and her body feels so nice against his... She looks at him funny when he calls her your name. He gets lost in the blasting music and dim lights, the haze of all the drinks and the arm around his waist.

The sound of the alarm clock might as well be a sack of rocks someone dumped on his head. Even still half asleep the blunt throbbing in his head is becoming unbearable. He wraps himself tighter with the thin blanket. Futon beneath shifts as someone climbs over him.

Or perhaps he's just dreaming.

When the second alarm rings Aran's eyes begrudgingly flutter open. He struggles to pick up the phone trying to hit that snooze button. He rubs the sleep off his eyes. That's not his phone.

The alarm is still ringing. Oh, he's going to have one hell of a headache today. His fingers shake when he finally finds the 'stop' button. For a few moments he lies motionless though the pounding of his heart rings in his ears. Last night is a haze of disconnected voices and pictures. The futon beneath him is too small to be his and he doesn't recognise the pattern of the sheets either. He probably slept with some girl from the party. Better get up and get the awkward 'morning after' conversation over with.

Sitting up he discovers all his clothes are still on. The room doesn't look familiar, yet the smell... There's something homey and intoxicating about it.

Standing up is a feat on its own. He's dizzy from the sleep and the alcohol and has to grab the edge of the desk to steady himself. He closes his eyes and waits for dizziness to pass. In the weak morning sunlight sipping through the window he notices books and pencils strewn all over. There's a framed picture on the window ledge. It takes a moment for him to recognise it.

Last year of high school, the last trip to the beach you made together. Akagi is giving you a piggy-back ride, Omimi holds both of your popsicles with a fond look on his face. Aran stands beside him, carrying the inflatable ring you guys later accidentally popped on a rock, and on the edge of the group is Kita. His face is covered with a post-it note.

Sudden sickness twists his stomach and it's not just too much alcohol to blame. He slides open the door and looks around before walking down a short hallway to the kitchen. You're just packing your bag. “Look who woke up from his beauty sleep. Want some breakfast?“

“Bathroom,“ is all he manages to utter.

“Last door on the right.“

He finds it not a moment too early. How embarrassing, to be throwing up at your place. He feels your hands rub soothing circles on his back as he leans over the toilet. Once his stomach settles down you hand him a glass of water and some headache medicine. His head is spinning. When he finally collects himself enough to stand up on his own you hand him a new toothbrush. “I gotta go in a few minutes. Professor doesn't like us being late.“

“What happened?“ His voice is hoarse.

“You had a drink too much Mr. Lightweight,“ you say with a loop sided grin. “A girl form the party called me in the middle of the night asking for someone to pick you up. It's a good thing she did cause everyone was so drunk they couldn't stand straight. You guys really did take celebrating to a whole new level. I did take you to your place but when we got there your keys were gone. So might want to look into that. Also I'm pretty sure I strained a muscle dragging you up the stairs.“ You glimpse over to the clock on the wall. “Listen, I really have to go. My roommate'll be home all day so you can stay if you want. And when you get hungry just take something from the fridge. You gonna be alright?“

Aran nods. Fuck, even that hurts. “Need to sleep it off,“ he mumbles.

You give him one more pat on the back before you leave. He struggles for a while trying to unscrew the tube of toothpaste. Never before has brushing teeth posed such a challenge. He washes his face with ice cold water that does nothing to improve the headache or his mood.

He collapses back on your futon. So, this is your room then. It's nothing like the one he remembers from back home. The Vabo-chan plushie team gifted you for your birthday lies on the pillow. It still holds the ball Omimi made at the last moment, not that he was the one given this task in the first place. It was meant as a joke yet you brought it with you to Tokyo. Aran snuggles it, noticing how pale and worn out it's becoming. He drifts back to sleep, thinking he should tell the others you still have it. They'll be glad to hear it.

No matter how hard Aran tries to pay you back the money for the taxi ride from the party you refuse. The only payment you're prepared to accept is a trip to the seaside. The moment you see the endless blue water you run closer, discarding your shoes on the beach. Seeing you splash around in the shallow water makes him laugh.

He lays out the blanket and watches over you. It's good seeing the exhaustion on your face being washed away. Even if you didn't complain at all and said nothing he could tell balancing college and work is taking its toll. Despite smiling and appearing as carefree as always you seem tired. Aran is starting to fear you'll break under the weight of whatever it is you refuse to tell him.

He lays back on his bag, basking in the warm sun. Soon he dozes off. Once he wakes up you're laying beside him and scribbling in the margins of an article you have to read for an upcoming lecture. He lets you work and simply enjoys your presence. He missed hanging out with you, even if you don't do anything special he's just glad to have you around.  

As evening falls he draps his jacket on your shoulders. You always loved stealing – not stealing he corrects himself, borrowing- you always loved borrowing jackets and hoodies.

“Hey Aran? Can... Can I tell you something?“ You hide your face beneath the hood of his jacket.  

“'Course ya can.“

“Remember the old maple tree by the crossroad?“

Aran thinks for a moment. “Ya mean the one Suna dared ya to climb and ya fell down from?“

“That one yeah.“ A shadow of a smile flies over your lips at the memory.

“Everyone thought Oomi-sensei would throw ya outta the club. Shouldda seen the second year's faces when they thought we'll lose our precious manager.“

“A few months ago I walked past it. Thought about climbing it.“

“Lemme guess, ya couldn't? College life sucked all the strength from yer arms? Told ya ya should exercise more.“

“I was scared.“ You take a deep breath. “I climbed that tree a thousand times before. And now I'm too scared to even touch the lowest branch.“ You fidget with the hem of his jacket. “It scared me so much you know, not noticing how much I've changed.“

“Ya haven't changed that much.“

You look at him. “Haven't I?“

“No.“ Lies. A part of him knows it's lies. “Yer still the same. Our precious manager.“ He playfully pokes your shoulder. Yeah, you're still the same. You're still the you he remembers. “Yer my friend. Fearless. Always there to kick some sense into me.“ You're still the same girl he fell in love with all those years ago. “Yer one of my best friends. Nothin's gonna change that. Besides-“

“I hated you.“

Seagulls' calls. Waves crashing on the shore. People chatting in the distance. “Well, hate might be a bit too strong...“ You pull your knees to your chest and hug them, your eyes fixed on the waning light on the horizon. “I was so envious of you, you know? Of all of you... You, Akagi, Omiren,... You all knew what you wanted, you going pro, them going to college, and Shin... Even back in school I was the odd one out. I couldn't admit to myself that I envied you. Now I know it was wrong. So fucking childish. But that's how I felt.“ You can't bear to look him in the eye. “Sometimes I still feel like the one who has no idea what to do with her life...“

A lump forms in Aran's throat. He had no idea. Too blinded by your light, too engrossed in his own feelings to notice what was happening underneath your carefree facade.

“Knowing that tell me,“ you glance at him and tears in your eyes glimmer in the last beams of the setting sun, “can really nothing change our friendship?“

Ch. 2: Tattered

[swga]

freefall | oneshot

pairing: yoongi x reader

word count: 1.8k

themes and genres: angst, a smidge of fluff, idol!yoongi, slice of life

synopsis: in which you are only human

Loving Yoongi is easier said than done.

 It's waking up with a hollowness to your chest on the right side of a half-made bed, the softness of this lips on your temple long gone. It's the cold bite of the counter on your back while you wait for your coffee, ears deaf from the loud silence that envelops you. It's the sparce texts that come and go, the bare minimum of affection that fails to uplift your spirit as the day wears on. It's the way you hope for some semblance of normalcy, even if you know you'll never have it in this lifetime. At least, not with him.

 Yoongi is married to his job. You know that. You accept it, celebrate it. You fell in love with him because of it. You love how his eyes light up when inspiration strikes, how he gets lost in the music he can only hear in his mind, how he's most himself when he's seated in front of his soundboard and mixing console. He lives in a world of his own, one he shares with you when he can, and it works.

 It works until you realize that he's committed to finishing a song more than he is to coming home on time for dinner. It works until you realize that you haven't seen him in a week because his creativity is on overdrive, and he can't step on the breaks, lest he crashes and burns.

 It works until you realize that loving Yoongi is like walking on a tightrope so high that you can't see the ground.

 A tightrope—that's exactly what this is. Every day that passes is another foot forward, and it takes all of your energy to keep the pole in your hands balanced. The rope sways with every step, and your stomach drops at the mere thought of falling, but you continue on even if you're scared for your life.

 The crowd below is ruthless; their pointed stares anticipate your demise. You try to drown them out because the walk itself is perilous. You don't need the extra weight on your shoulders. You just need to get to the other side.

 Today is another step taken, and you're tired. It's been a week since you last saw him, and you crave his presence in every way possible. And so, you slip on his white FG shirt and let it drape over your shoulder until your bare thighs. You prepare enough dinner for two—everything he likes—and let yourself get lost in the motion of chewing and swallowing.

 It takes every ounce of energy to keep yourself distracted. You don't want to get lost in the ugly feeling brewing in your chest. It's an unwanted weight that will throw you off balance, and you're teetering as it is.You feel the wetness pool in the corners of your eyes, and you will yourself to hold on tighter.

 But you're tired. So utterly, painfully tired.

 One cry bubbles up your throat. And then another. And then another, until you find that you can't stop.

 "I'm so tired," you sniff. The chopsticks fall to the floor as you attempt to wipe the tears rolling down your cheeks.

 It's overwhelming. He's everywhere and nowhere all at once, and it's painful that he isn't here at all. You miss him, but you don't want to demand his time because the rest of the world already expects so much of him. You want him to come to you on his own, but your arms are tired of waiting. You support him with every fiber of your being, but your strength has withered away.

 It hits you all at once.

 You're exhausted, and you want to succumb to the freefall.

  Yoongi takes pride in many things.

 First and foremost, he takes pride that he has grit. The path he had chosen long ago was, and still is, a long and uphill one. Things were never handed on a silver platter. He had to endure endless hours of training while maintaning his studies and working part time to earn what little amount he could. Even when he finally debuted with BTS, things didn't get any easier. If anything, it made his life harder. He had to deal with sasaengs and scandals as he was thrust into a world where he had nowhere to hide. When things became too much, he had his members to fall on, but he knew that if he didn't have any semblance of grit, he wouldn't be where he is today.

 He also takes pride in their fans. They, who understand and resonate with his work. They, who support his love for music in ways he never thought was possible. They, who taught him how to love himself when he didn't know how to. He would thank every single one of their fans if he could. That's how much they meant to him.

 Most of all, he takes pride in being your partner. You, who doesn't need him to feel whole because you love yourself plenty enough. You, who pushes him to be better when he wants to give up halfway. You, who supports his career endlessly simply because you love all of him, even if it meant sacrificing time together.

 He doesn't like that last thought too much, because even if you supported him tiredlessly, he missed spending time with you in the paradise you had created together at home.

 It has been a tiring week for Yoongi. He worked track after track after track, barely taking care of himself in the process. Every meal he had came in small bites too far in between, and any ounce of sleep he got withered away the moment he woke up. He supposed that even if he did eat well and slept properly, he would still be tired because he terribly misses you. And so, he put all of his effort into finishing this last song so he could come back to you as quick as he could.

 The moment Yoongi opens the door to your apartment, his senses are bombarded. The delicious aroma of bulgogi wafts up his nose. It makes his stomach growl, and only then does he realize that it had been too long since his last proper meal. The sight of your shoes by the door brings a smile to his face because you're home, and he could finally hold you in his arms under warm sheets.

 Soft sniffs and strangled cries pull him from his reverie and into the kitchen. There, he finds your head in your hands, shoulders shaking from the sobs that wreck your curled frame.

 He doesn't need to ask why you're crying. His shirt on your body and the food long forgotten lets him know it all.

 The thought is a knife to his heart. How could he let it come this far? How did he manage to break the one thing he promised not to? Yoongi feels his heart break, twist, and crumble like never before; he almost wants to rip it out of his chest and give it to you instead, to make up for the hurt he hates he caused the best thing he has. Instead, he wraps his arms around you in a feeble attempt to calm you down.

 Like second nature, your body twists to face the man you love unconditionally, your head buried in the warmth of his chest. "Y-Yoongi," your muffled voice breaks his heart all over again, and he berates himself even more. "I'm so t-tired, I-I ca-can't–"

 He cuts you off before you could make him hate himself even more. "(Y/N), I'm so sorry. I-I fucked up, shit." Words escape Yoongi, because how could he earn your forgiveness? He doesn't deserve it. He knows he doesn't deserve the love you give him if this is what he gave you in return. You deserve someone who could give you their time, who would be there when you wake up and fall asleep. You deserve someone who could eat dinner with you every night, who could share mundane moments with you.

 No, Yoongi definitely doesn't deserve you, but he needs you to stay.

 "F-fuck, (Y/N), please don't leave," he whispers into your hair as tears well in the corner of his eyes. "I swear I'll do better, I'll do so much better, baby. Just, please don't leave." He is ready to grovel on his knees, but you cling tightly to his shirt as you shake your head.

 "I-I won't, Yoongi, I'm just so, so tired."

 Your weak voice makes him fall on his knees. He immediately wraps his arms around your waist and buries his head in your navel, his eyes searching for yours through his tears. He had never heard you so broken like this, never seen you so worn out like this, and it suffocates him to accept that he has done this to you. You, the stronger half of him. You, the better half of him. He would give up the world to hush your cries, even if it isn't for him to give. But now, under the gaze of your empty, dull eyes, he isn't sure anymore. How could he give you the world when he couldn't even give you himself? Yoongi's jaw clench. He can't let you go like this. He won't let you go like this, even if it kills him.

 Your hands comb through his hair like moth to a flame. It was black now, you realize. It looks good on him, just like every color he had worn before. It's also a reminder of how you live in different worlds, orbits never meeting despite existing in the same galaxy.

 "I don't want to be overbearing, because I support what you do, but I barely see you anymore, Yoongi. And I try to be understanding, but I'm just so tired." A fresh wave of tears gather in your eyes, so you bite your lip and try to keep them at bay. It's pointess though, because sobs continue to escape through gritted teeth and tight lips.

 He lets you grieve until you couldn't, because he knows this is what you need. He grieves on his own too, but he does so in hushed whispers and vice-like grips.

 When his tears run out and his heart is squeezed dry, he gingerly carries you to bed. "It's been a long night, baby. Let's talk about this tomorrow." His promise lingers in the air like his lips on your hair.

 "I don't want to wake up alone, Yoongi."

 His heart aches once more. He couldn't imagine how hard it must be to love someone like him, someone who brings mornings filled with half-made beds and lonely spaces. He hates it. He hates it in his skin, in his bones, and in his veins, because you deserve more than what he gives. But he knows even the darkest days will come to pass, so he anoints you with his kiss and promises the world to you even if it isn't for him to give. "I'll be here when you wake up."

[kileyrose-2003]

Rose the Hat x Fem! Reader

A/N: Hello lovelies! This request was made by @mewbleu I hope you enjoy. I'm sorry it took so long to write. Bare with me everyone as I have another imagine coming out this week and part 2 of the fanfic coming soon.

Warnings: Child death, violence, implied alcoholism, blood, implied sexual content, violence against children

From the time you were small, you always knew you were different. Your parents both had the shining like you. They always insisted it was good thing, a gift in all actuality and that you were special. Most people couldn't do things like project out of body or see things so far in advance it benefited others, but you could.

Though you didn't know if being special was a good thing in your case. You had a natural healer energy and people often grew attached to you but with its pros came its cons.

Dark entities or 'ghost people' as you liked to call them, sometimes found their way to you. The pretty woman in the hat being the most recurring one in particular.

She was different than all the other ghost you seen. For one thing, the beginning interactions you had with her were friendly but also she wasn't dead. She was alive.

When you first talked about it with your mom she was confused. She too could see spirit but they never were alive.

Your mother thought she had to be dead based off the way you described her. While your own parents raised you in a very bohemian upbringing and they considered themselves to be hippies, they didn't dress like Rose.

They didn't know anyone who still owned silk top from the sixties and had such antiquities adorn in their hair. At first she brushed it off that maybe you were mistaken and that maybe it was possible you did make friends with some young hippie that may be possibly dead but it didn't bother her. She was oddly happy for you.

In the beginning, Rose was sort of your friend in a way. It brought you a sense of warmth that you never felt before. You didn't have any friends your age that could do any of the same things that you could and while Rose was far from your age, she'd still show you little tricks with her mind and reaffirm your thoughts and that was good enough for you.

"I feel lonely," You told her one night as her apparition stood in your room, staring at you silently from the empty side of your bed. "My mommy and daddy are like us but I didn't know there were people like you out there who could see ghostie people too."

Rose smiled at you and sat down at the foot of your bed. "There are alot of people like us out there. It's just a matter of finding the most special ones and you my darling, are very special."

The words brought a smile to your face and you blushed, feeling a sense of secureness in knowing that it wasn't just your parents who seen how different you were.

"Thanks. Am I ever going to meet you, pretty lady in the hat? I like you." Normaly you enjoyed Rose's smile but in that moment the grin on her face hinted at darkness that laid below the surface of her beautiful front.

"Maybe when you're a little older and you have more magic in you but for right now, no." You frowned and Rose reached her hand forward to take your petite one in hers, although it did no good because your hand sunk right through her transparent ones.

"Don't be sad though, it's a good thing," She reassured you. "Okay." You laid back in bed and rolled onto your side. "Goodnight, pretty lady in the hat."

"Goodnight, Y/n." She'd stay with you until you fell asleep and when you woke up in the morning, she'd be gone. It was an enjoyable having a friend like her.

As you got older though, the more you started to question just exactly how much of a friend she really was.

You had a baby sitter who was a bright, young college student who liked to indulge your 'over active imagination' as she called it but you didn't mind that she didn't understand. Just that she listened to you was enough to make you happy to be around her while your parents were out.

The one night as you got ready for bed you begged and begged for her to braid your hair. Of course she obliged but it wasn't without curiosity.

"Can we put ribbon in it too?" You asked excitedly, practically bouncing up and down. "Like weave it in there?"

You nodded excitedly and she attempted to add the ribbon in. "Did you see someone on TV with their hair like this and that's why you want it like this?"

You giggled and shook your head. "Not on TV, in my room!" The girl would of been lying if she said she didn't feel a hint of chills running down her spine.

"Your room?" You nodded happily and snuggled your patchwork doll close to your chest. "Mhm. She's really pretty but she doesn't have ribbon in her hair though."

"Oh? What does she have then?"

"Buttons and yarn. I think she might have that metal thingy on a bike too."

Your baby sitter narrowed her eyes. "A bike chain?" You shrugged. "Maybe. I think that's what it's called anyways. What's the matter? You looked scared."

The young girl shook her head and smiled. "I-it's nothing, sweetie. Come on, let's get you all tucked in bed."

You eagerly snuggled into the covers, hiding yourself away from the cold outside. "Sweet dreams, Y/n. Dream safely."

"Goodnight," You hummed softly and rolled onto your side, quickly drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

When your parents got home later she voiced her concern to your mother in quiet. "I know Y/n is different from other kids she..understands more but I just thought I'd tell you because I thought it was a little alarming."

"We've known about this for a while," She mused as she watered some of her plants. "I don't see her. Y/n does but I'll look into it."

Over the next few weeks your mom began asking more about Rose, trying to pry information about her out of you.

"Why does her name matter?" You snapped as your mom tucked you in. "Because if she's your friend you should at least know her name. So what it is?"

You shrugged. "I don't know. She never told me."

"Why is that?"

"I don't know mommy. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Okay," She hummed and kissed the top of your head. "Goodnight sweetheart."

"Night mommy." You rolled over onto your side, staring at the wall for a while. By that point Rose would of normally be already sitting at the bottom of your bed, but not tonight.

'Maybe she's busy.' You told yourself as you pulled your stuffed doll close to your chest. "Goodnight pretty lady in the hat," You mumbled into the air and began to drift off to sleep.

Normally when you slept it was uninterrupted and deep but that night was different. You kept tossing and turning. Not because you weren't comfortable but because something was wrong somewhere.

After another ten minutes of rolling around you sat up in bed, still holding your doll close. You looked around your room for a few seconds, trying to find anything that could be the source of discomfort but nothing.

"It's just like pictures in a book," You whispered aloud and closed your eyes. "They're not real." When you opened your eyes you found yourself standing in the middle of the woods. The weather was warm and muggy. Even in your light fabric pajamas, you were hot.

When you breathed in you could smell the overwhelming aroma of embers burning from a campfire. You let out a cough and followed the burning light through the woods.

'Don't do it.' That inner voice inside said but you pushed it away, thinking that maybe if you seen what was going on you could help. But something kept pulling you forward.

We are The True Knot

What is tied may mever be untied

We Endure

Your made your way down the beaten path and what was there horrified you. A group of people stood their. Like a chain of paper dolls or snowflakes chanting.

You seen your mother do chants in her meditation but this was completely different.

The worse part was the body on the green grass. The girl on the ground was maybe your age. 5 to 7 years old.

You heard the name Violet being whispered in your ear and you let out a scared cry.

A cloud of what you hought was campfire smoke was above the group. Next to the body was Rose. Her hands like bloody gloves confessing to her sins and a man with intense eyes. Like a Crow. They all turned to stare at you.

The pretty lady in the hat, no Rose! That was her name, smiled at you contently. "Well! Hi there!" She greeted and you immediately started to cry.

"Aww, what's wrong sweetie? Aren't you happy to see me?" You shook your head, backing up towards a tree. "Y-you can't hurt me when I'm like this!"

"Oh silly girl. I'm not going to hurt you." She pinned you against the tree and you dug your little hands into the bark.

"Then what are you going to do to me?" You sobbed and Rose knelt down to your level. "I'm going to keep you here. Don't you want to go home and join our family?"

Her hand bore down on your wrist hard enough to hurt and you let out a scream. As Rose was about to drag you away a light shined above the two of you and the entire space faded away into darkness.

"Get the hell away from her!" Your mother bellowed and Rose let go of your wrist. "Mama!" You cried and looked up at the light.

Rose growled and narrowed her eyes. "You just messed with the wrong bitch! She's mine!"

"No, she's not!" The environment around you both shook and Rose went flying into the darkness and before you knew it you were back in your room, crying into your mother's arms.

"It's okay," She soothed and kissed the top of your head as she rocked you back and forth. You cried and held onto her shirt.

"They killed her!" Your mom rubbed your back and let out a pained sigh. "I know..I know."

You sobbed into her that whole night, desperately wishing for the first time in your short life you weren't special.

You felt hurt that someone you had grown close to could hurt someone like that. It was a recurring theme and lapse of faith in yourself you had to deal with every day over the years.

You never seen Rose again after that but her presence in your house left an aftermath of chaos and your mother devoted all her time to protecting you from her because she was sure even if it wasn't in the near future you would see her again.

It tore your parents relationship apart and not after, they both decided to go their seperate ways. Even though both of them insisted it had nothing to do with you, you couldn't help but blame yourself.

Everything was so normal and so at peace until she came along. As you grew older you grew to despise her and tried your hardest to block her out of your thoughts but sometimes your memories of her managed to slip back in. The pain she caused you was so great it was hard to forget.

You were twenty now and on your way back from the grocery/ liquor store run when you felt like you were being watched.

It was unusual because after the whole ordeal with Rose, you were paranoid of being watched to begin with but this was a different feeling. Someone was in your mind.

You were about look out of the mirror of your car to see if anyone was behind you when you felt your phone ringing in your pocket.

You pulled it out and answered and as you turned into the road leading to your apartment complex.

"Hello?"

"Y/n?" You let out a sigh and grip the steering wheel. "Hi mom."

"Why haven't you called me? It's been three days since I've spoken to you."

"I know, mom. I-"

"Have you been drinking?"

You looked down at the bag of liquor sitting in your passenger seat. "No," You answered carefully. "Of course not."

"Bullshit. You forget you lived with me as a teenager and I know your drinking voice."

You drove up into your parking spot and stopped the car. "I know, mom. I know."

"Then why are you lying to me?"

"C-can we please just get off the subject?!" You whispered harshly and grabbed your bag of liquor off the seat.

"Sure, sorry. I just worry about you, you know?" You could hear the tiredness and hurt in her voice.

"I know mama. I'm sorry," You whispered softly and walked up the stairs to the second floor. "It's okay sweetie. How was your day?"

You put the key in the lock to your apartment door. "It was alright. I went grocery shopping today."

"How was that?"

"Good." You opened the door. "I got some really cool looking-" You seen a woman sitting on your sofa and let out a scream.

"Well, hi there!" You dropped your bag of groceries on the floor, picking your head up to look in your living room.

"Y/n?! Is everything okay?" You debated on saying something but Rose made a silent tutting gesture with her hand.

"I-i'll have to call you back," You mumbled into the phone. "And if I don't, know that I love you."

"What?" Your mother screamed. "Y/n, don't hang you up on me! Y/n! Y/n-" You hung up and shoved your phone in your pocket.

"I-i remember you. You're the-" Rose smiled viciously and stood up from her spot on the sofa. "The pretty lady in the hat? Such a fitting name for me, isn't it?"

You nodded nervously, eliciting a giggle from Rose. She was by far the most beautiful woman you'd ever seen but mixed in with that beauty was her insanity. Just by looking in her eyes could tell this woman was an utter psychopath.

"No need to be scared of me, sweetie." She kicked the bags of groceries aside and moved closer to you, pinning you against the wall. "I told you you'd see me one day."

"What if I made up my mind?" She grinned and caressed your cheek. "Why on earth would you want to do that, huh? Still such a bright and clever girl, so so pretty too."

You lowered your head, refusing to look at Rose. "What do you want?" She picked your head up with her fingers and held it high. "I want to take you on a trip. Don't you want to meet my friends? I remember you did when you were little." She placed a kiss against your cheek.

You pushed her away and Rose looked on at you slightly taken aback. "No, I don't. What I want is for you to get the hell out of my apartment."

Rose shoved you against the wall and caressed your cheek. "My, such a temper. You know, I don't care for being talked back to."

You shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut, feeling so small and trapped. "Please let me go."

"Aww, no sweetie. No, I won't. You already got away from me once and it won't happen again." She kissed your neck, nipping at your cartilage afterwards. Her bright, murderous eyes you remembered all too well shone when she pulled away and you felt the hair on your arms stand straight up. "Still such a special little thing, aren't you?"

You gasped and tried to run from her but Rose was quick, wrapping her arms tightly around your waist. "Only a little pinch."

"No! No! Please!" You begged, hearing her uncap the needle. "I'll see you later, sweetheart."

"No! No-" The needle of the syringe pricked the sensitive skin on your neck and as Rose pushed down on the plunger flunge you felt yourself going limper. After a few seconds your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you dropped to the floor.

"That's it," She cooed and scooped you up in her arms. "Hope you're ready for our little road trip." She carried you out to her trailer and you were never seen by anyone who knew you again.

Part 2

A few hours later you kicked and screamed as Rose carried you out of the RV. "No! No! No!" You begged and flopped against her. "Please..please! I won't tell! I swear."

"Honey, it's not personal and I know you wouldn't but it's just not a practical option." She dropped you on the ground roughly and the other's began to tie you up.

As you stared up at the sky in distress, you pictured Violet's little face in your head and felt your anxiety rise.

Tears started streaming down your cheek and Rose stood infront of you. A part of her that still felt attached to you hurt to see you in pain but she needed to eat. The whole family did.

She raised the knife above her head, balancing it inbetween the tips of her fingers before resting it at her side. "Are you going to hurt me? Like you did to Violet?" Your inside burns and you felt like you wanted to throw up.

"Yes." You let out a pained scream as she rubbed the blade against your cheek. "Pain purifies steam, fear too. So now you understand."

"No!" You sobbed as you watched Rose raise the knife above her head. "No, Rose..please.." You continued to beg until she plunged the knife deep into your calf.

You shrieked and a large cloud of steam came floating out of your mouth. You felt weaker as the steam came out but the worse was sense of humiliation you felt. Like you had been violated or stolen from.

"Oh damn!" Rose rasped in an almost sexual tone. "Even at your age, you taste so good. Like flowers and liquor."

She clamped her hands around your throat and you winced, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt your steam poured out of your mouth more. You choked on your own sobs and dug your hands into the dirt.

Rose's eyes softened a little bit, her glowing blue orbs staring into yours. "So much fear for most of your life, huh?"

You didn't respond to her and Rose roughly tugged on your hair. "Answer me!"

"Yes!" You barely managed to scream out the word and let out a pitiful whimper. "W-why?"

"Why what?" She spat, keeping her firm grip on you.

"Why me? You could of had Violet, any other girl that was born around the time I was. Why me?" You didn't meet her eye. "I-i didn't want this! I didn't ask for any of this. I just-"

"Just what?" Rose asked softly.

"I just want to be normal! I don't want to special anymore. I just want to be loved. I just want it all to stop!" You hitched a sob and Rose released the grip on your neck.

She stood up and paced back and forth, trying to get her head back in the game.

"Rosie, you okay?" Crow stood up to her level. "Yeah, I'm okay..I just..you know what, it can wait til later."

"You're sure?" He asked.

"Yeah." She ran her thumb over your cheek as if to give you some comfort and raised the knife above her head. You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting to feel pain radiating through your body but nothing happened.

Why couldn't she hurt you? Rose, who considered herself to be quite numb to the feelings of others but highly intuned with her own needs didn't know. Even after everything you seen and how long it had been since she seen you there was something about you, some steamy element that made her feel attached to you like a magnet.

"I-i can't do it.." Rose stabbed the knife into the dirt beside you and put her hands over her face.

"Why not?" Crow asked, trying his hardest to keep his infrequent temper at bay. The rest of The Knot looked visibly displeased and hungry which set your anxiety even higher than it was.

"I-I feel something for her." Rose's eyes brimmed with insanity and you tried to squirm away her despite the pain radiating through your left leg and the restrains on your wrist.

"What? Rose we don't feel things for a Steamhead. If you keep it alive it's dangerous. It will-"

"I know!" She tightened her grip on your wrist. "She's special though and like I did many years ago, I want her." She let out a maniacal laugh that made Crow's shoulders stiffen. "I fucking want her." She stared deep into your eyes.

"I just want to go home!" You sobbed, fat tears running down your cheeks. "Shh.." Rose wiped your tears away with the back of her thumbs, staining your skin crimson with your own blood. "It's okay."

"No, it's not! Please just let me go home," You begged. "You know I can't do that. Can you all start untying her, please?"

The others nodded and quickly did as she asked. "Then what are we going to do with her?" You heard the Crow ask.

"I have a different plan for this one because she's special. Fitting how everything comes around, right sweetheart?" She gestured to the little scar on her hand.

You gritted your teeth in pain and spit in her face. "Fuck you." You raised your good leg up in the air and connected your heeled boot to her pretty face.

"Oh, you little bitch!" Rose screamed and raised her hand at you, swiftly smacking you across the face before falling back. It was loud enough for the sound to radiate for a good distance and you winced it the stinging sensation on your face.

Rose was distracted by the pain and others seemed to paying you no attention at all. You seen your chance to make your get away and made a run for it as soon as you got the chancs.

The dirt beneath you kicked up into the air as your shoes collided roughly into the ground. Your blood sputtered out on impact and the further the distance you walked, the limp increase.

Your chest felt tight and everything burned but your fight or flight instincts were on high and you were ready to take on everything or anyone.

As you began to slow your running pace you could vaguely hear the sound of bare feet crunching against the leaves behind you.

"Y/n!" You struggled to straggle forward as the light limp in your leg grew worse. "Where are you, honeydoll?"

You found the nearest tree close by and grabbed onto it, flinging yourself behind it. "I know you're around here somewhere."

The crunching of the leaves stopped momentarily and you could feel eyes burning in your direction. "You know if you're going to run from me then mine as well you try and cover your tracks. I see your blood."

"Shit." You darted out from behind the tree and tripped over a cut down stump from a tree that previously grew there.

You pulled your already injured leg up to your chest and slid backwards against the dirt each step Rose took closer to you.

"Y/n-"

"Don't! Just get away!"

"Y/n-"

"No!"

You squirmed back forward and Rose got frustrated, roughly taking your wrist in her hands. She knelt down to your level and your eyes interlocked with her stormy grey ones.

"If I was going to hurt you, I would of done it by now." You nodded nervously. Rose ran a finger across your cheek. "Poor darling, you're so cold and bloodied." She grabbed you enough your arms and lifted you up. "Come on."

"W-where are you taking me?" She grunted as she placed your arm around her shoulders. "To my trailer. I have a first aid kit in there. I should be able to fix you up there."

"Okay." You nodded lazily, starting to feel the blood loss getting to you. You fought for your eyes to stay open and keep moving.

"Just a little longer, Y/n." Rose winced and helped you up the stairs to her trailer. Once you got inside she set down on her. "There we go, lay back."

You willing complied and rested your head against one of the many pillows Rose collected over the years.

"This is going to sting, okay?" She warned. You nodded and gripped onto her blankets as she put the hydrogen peroxide over your cut.

You hissed in pain and bit down on your lip. "Fuck." Rose laughed throatily. "I told you it was going to sting. Maybe if you didn't run from me none of this would of happened."

"Well maybe if you weren't trying to kill me I wouldn't of ran!" You spat defensively. Rose glared and began to wrap up your leg.

"..I told you I was going to let you be." Your eyes went wide. "After you stabbed me! Rose, I just want to go home."

"I can't do that sweetheart." As she finished wrapping up your leg she helped you sit up on the bed. "Then what are you going to do with me?"

"Option A: You go outside and I let whichever member of my family that is standing closest by drop you off somewhere and let you wander around bloddied in the woods because I will strip you of your bandages and I can't promise it will be painless death or, you stay here with me."

You looked away with uncertainty in your eyes. "You don't have to be turned yet if you don't want to but you will want it eventually, I reassure you." She grinned.

"I could never be like you." Rose rolled her eyes. "Oh please, you rubes know nothing on what it's like to be us. To live like the kings and queens of humanity and the pleasures in the aftermath of taking steam and the chaos that ensued afterwards."

"Killing people makes you horny?" She laughed. "More amorous then anything, my sweet." She got her knees and leaned forward to kiss your lips. "I can give you a comparison on the steam part, if you'd like."

You shoved her away. "No, I don't want you to touch me like that. Ever." For a reason Rose couldn't fathom, she had to push away some pain caused by your words.

"It's not going to be a terrible existence, Y/n." She took your hand in hers. "You kill people, Rose! I seen you kill someone."

"Violet? Oh yes, we actually just finished her steam a few days ago. It made me think of you."

"And you tried to kill me! I can't trust you as far as I can throw you!"

"You learned to like being around me as a little girl. I can't why you can't learn to again." You glared at Rose. "Because I thought you were my friend."

"I still am, aren't I?" Rose was met with silence. "Y/n, for fucks sake would you just say something?"

"I-" You broke down in tears and Rose felt a pang of guilt blooming inside her. She pulled you close to her and ran her fingers through your hair.

"You took everything from me!" You sobbed into her. "I know. Either way we were going to have you though so you should of just gave in. Some of it is my fault though." Your tears soaked her chest.

"I feel so broken..and so confused! I just want to be loved but I don't know how to even love me anymore!"

"I know and we'll fix that. Come on, don't cry." You sniffled and tried to wipe some of your tears away but they just kept flowing.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You kept saying over and over again. "Shhh..it's okay. Nothing to be sorry about."

"You scared me when you killed Violet. You scared me!" Rose wiped your face off with her sleeve. "I know but it's all out of survival and I won't hurt you like that ever again, I promise."

You nodded and wiped some of the tears away, just trying to calm yourself down a little bit. "So what do you say?"

"I'll stay." Rose grinned and placed a kiss against your cheek. "Good." She pulled you down on her bed and wrapped her arms around your waist. "You're freezing. I know ways of warming you up, you know."

You let out a laugh which brought Rose some relief. "Maybe when in a few days when I'm back to normal."

"Whatever you're comfortable with." She ran her fingers through your hair. "Get some rest, please?"

"You won't leave me?" You asked softly. "I won't. I promise." You let out a peaceful sigh and nuzzled closely to Rose's chest.

She drew small circles on your back with her fingers and sent you waves of relaxation. "Sleep." You eyes fluttered shut and soon you succumbed to a peaceful slumber.

Rose stayed up for a while, searching through your mind and taking in all the information about you she missed from the years you spent apart.

"So much anger and fear." She whispered softly. "Bouncing back and from place to place and surpressing who you really are. Oh yes, you're going to be a clingy little thing for a while but I don't mind."

You shifted in your sleep and Rose tightened her grip around you. "Relax, you're home now."

"Home," You mumbled softly in your sleep and Rose smiled softly. Sne placed her hat down behind her on the bed as if it was a prized crown and spooned you. "Yes, home. Just exactly where you're supposed to be."

[smileyoongle]

Deception (A Kim Namjoon Mafia AU)

Summary: A damsel in distress and a lonely mafia leader. Different but not too different. The two worlds collide on a rainy night when Kim Namjoon, a renowned Mafia leader is called for an emergency and Y/N Y/L/N is on the run from her abusive father. Feelings stir and he rescues her. But one of them is a liar. And the other's life is on the line. It's only a matter of time until all secrets are out in the open.

Will love be born? Or will death conquer?

ςhαp†εr †εη: Lost In Delirium

Character Count: 11,574

Pairing: Namjoon×Reader (Appearances by the whole of BTS)

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Because I have been lonely, I value love.

-Leonard Nimoy

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“How’s your business tycoon of a boyfriend doing?” 

The immediate reaction of yours should have been an eye roll but instead, you ended up dropping the empty whiskey glass that you were cleaning. You gasped as the glass broke, sending sparkling bits scattering here and there. To say you were a little distracted was an understatement . Whatever had happened between Namjoon and you was consuming your senses completely. You had come close to kissing him, twice and every single time you were interrupted either by your thoughts or someone else. You were confused and…angry? You couldn’t tell.

Did you want him or did you not?

You sighed, crouching down to pick up the broken pieces as your coworker, Isla, towered over you.

“He’s not my boyfriend. How many times are you going to make me say it?” You muttered, your voice laced with annoyance and frustration. Annoyed, because Isla kept calling Namjoon your boyfriend. Frustrated, because it wasn’t true, no matter how much a part of you wanted it to be.

You carefully cleaned the shiny marble floor, the bar counter hiding you from the eyes of your manager, a very moody and rude man who had no respect for his workers whatsoever. Surprisingly, he wasn’t the perverted kind at all. That was probably the one thing that made you stay, along with the money, of course.

 “Oh come on, Y/N! If Mr Kim isn’t your boyfriend now, he will be very soon. I can tell that you like him a lot. And you even stay under the same roof. You want me to believe that a man and a woman can stay together without-“

“Maybe you should focus on restocking the bottles rather than prying into Ms Y/L/N’s domestic affairs.”

Your eyes widened, your head jerking up to see your manager glaring at Isla. You winced, crawling towards the bin to throw all the glass bits you had collected, knowing that Isla was probably being burnt to the ground by your manager’s eyes. He was scary, more than Hitler. Okay, that was a bit of exaggeration on your part but he was horrifying, nonetheless.

“Sorry sir, I’ll get to work right now.” Isla apologised in a small voice and you swore this was the first time she sounded so weak. Isla was a very driven person, capable of a lot of things but when problems stood before her, she preferred to cower away. That loud and giddy girl existed only in front of you. It was a surprise that within a week you had managed to grow so close to someone.

Isn’t it the same with Namjoon?

You pursed your lips, moving to help Isla before the club opened for the night. 

∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆

"Namjoon, just because you're doing what your father wants you to do, doesn't mean you're a bad person."

Hana's words kept replaying in Namjoon's mind, like a broken record player that he was unable to fix. There had been so much warmth and love in her voice that Namjoon had thought he was dreaming. He was only 19 when his father pushed him into the Mafia business, his mother running away soon after she saw him making his first kill. To this day, Namjoon wished it had all been a dream. His father breaking the awful news to him. His mother leaving. Hana dying, only to come back alive as someone who didn't wanna stand by him anymore.

Maybe if it had all been a dream, then Namjoon's life would have been better. Maybe he would have lived like a normal guy with a normal job and a normal family. Everything would have been so perfect.

Namjoon clenched his jaw as the car came to a halt, the club's name flashing in the darkness of the night. It was a few minutes past 9, everyone's anxiety growing bigger than they could ever imagine.

"Okay so, just a recap. We'll be scattered around, trying to blend in until Hana comes and we confront her." Rex confirmed, earning a groan from Jungkook who was seated beside Namjoon in the backseat along with Yoongi.

"Once again, this isn't a movie. We aren't gonna go to her until she's done talking to whoever she's planning on meeting." Jungkook replied, his eyes glaring at Rex who sighed in disappointment and sulked in his place. The others were in the car that followed behind, hoseok's voice ringing in the earpiece that all of them had.

"She could be here any minute, we should go in."

There was heavy silence for a second, the air very thick and suffocating. Jungkook knew he had lost his favourite person, she wasn't the same Hana now and he had to let her go. The girl that used to be his link to the innocence of the world was gone and he let it happen. No matter how much he told himself that it wasn't his fault, he failed to believe it.

"Let's just get this over with." Yoongi muttered under his breath, pushing open the door of the car and stepping out onto the gravel. It was a cold night, Yoongi's blue suit jacket doing nothing to keep him from getting cold. The only thing keeping him warm was the adrenaline rushing in his veins, a subtle ache in his heart on seeing Namjoon's grim expression. Whatever was gonna happen, Yoongi could only hope they all would be okay again. To him, this wasn't that big of a surprise because he saw it coming. But Namjoon and Jungkook, he knew they were hurt. Very hurt.

As the club loomed over them, they all glanced at each other, Jungkook's eyes falling on Namjoon towards the end. There was a silent message being passed, Namjoon's eyes softening at the look of betrayal in the younger's eyes. In that moment, Namjoon swore he was gonna be strong for the rest of the members. He had to step up as the leader and take care of everyone. He didn't worry about himself too much because he knew. He knew that at the end of the day, he'd go home and he'd find you waiting for him with the smile you wore all the time. Maybe someday he'd be able to tell you what you had done to his heart, but for now, he knew he'd be okay.

∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆

You placed the different glasses of drinks on your tray, moving through the crowd as you kept track of which glass goes on which table. The mass of bodies grinding against one another in the middle of the dancefloor, made it difficult for you to navigate your way through but you had to do it. This was probably why Isla always took charge of the other end of the club. That was the VIP section. You shook your head in envy, grabbing the glass of beer and placing it on a single table where a man with a black cap sat, bobbing his head and looking around the club. "Enjoy your drink." You stated, your robotically sweet tone having been perfected with practice. It was the same everytime, no matter who you were serving. The man looked up at you as you passed by him, not noticing his face in the flashy lights that reflected throughout the place.

Rex was positive he had seen that face before. It wasn't very clear in his mind but he knew he had seen those eyes.

The only question that remained was when?

He narrowed his eyes, thinking hard about who it was. That waitress had a very familiar face but he couldn't put a finger on where he had seen her.

"Rex, I see you zoning out. There's a man at the bar who just arrived, he looks like he's waiting for someone, keep an eye on him."

Namjoon's voice rung in Rex's ears, making him flinch at the suddenness of it. He quickly shook himself back to reality, eyes falling on the man who had, indeed, just arrived. Nonetheless, he saw the same waitress again, picking up another round of drinks as she laughed at something her colleague said. Rex wondered if Namjoon could see her. Maybe he'd know who she was, because the curiosity was killing him. He had such a bad memory, that's probably why he failed half his tests in school.

"Hey boss. Do you see that girl at the bar? The waitress? The one with the ponytail?"

The response was immediate, all the members' heads turning to look at who Rex was talking about. Namjoon couldn't see very clearly, only the back of that waitress was visible to him. But upon seeing her, he felt something familiar, like he knew her.

"You don't actually have to describe her, there's only one waitress there." Jungkook snapped, glaring in Rex's direction from the corner of the room. He was just growing irritated at how long it took Hana to get there, nothing personal against Rex. No matter how annoying the kid was.

Rex pursed his lips, seeing that there was only one waitress there, thankfully it was the one who he wanted to ask about.

"So does anyone of you know her? I think I've seen her before but I can't remember. Help me out, my dudes. I'm dying out of curiosity."

Jimin rolled his eyes at Rex's words. My dudes? He was definitely not fit for being in a gang. Yoongi narrowed his eyes, shifting a little in his place but he still couldn't see her. Seeing that there was no sign of Hana yet, he decided to move closer to her, pushing through the dancing bodies until he was in the clear. Under the colourful lights, he somehow managed to see that face. The one that made his eyes immediately move to Namjoon who was standing on the floor above. Before Yoongi could do anything, he saw the way Namjoon's lips parted in surprise, his eyes stuck to your figure hunched over the bar table.

"Is that...." Hoseok voiced, still trying to come to grip with the situation. They were here to find Hana but looks like there was someone much more interesting there.

"..Y/N." Taehyung added, glancing at Namjoon who had his jaw clenched, his fingers tightening against the railing as he glared at you. Not that you knew. He had been caught way off guard, finally catching onto your lies. You worked at a cafe? Bullshit.

Jungkook raised his eyebrows, taking in your appearance. A pretty one, he wasn't going to deny that. Your eyes were very... expressive. They shined under the lights, telling everyone that you were content with how your life was going. For a second, Jungkook saw the same flash of innocence that he used to find solace in. The only difference was that you weren't Hana. He cleared his throat, looking at Namjoon and concluding that no one knew about your little job. Oh.

So the new girl was a liar.

That thought made Jungkook feel better. A part of him blamed you for whatever was happening, but he also knew he had no reasons to hate you yet. You seemed like a good person, he could understand why Namjoon took you in. He would have probably done the same anyway.

You patiently waited for the bartender to make the next round of drinks, your elbow resting on the shiny black counter as you looked around the club. You hummed a little tune to yourself, feeling grateful that tonight there had been no catcalls or inappropriate comments directed to you. It had been a good day, you were sure of it. You wondered what Namjoon was doing, recalling how he had told you he had a meeting to attend. He surely had a very tiring job.

Your eyes wandered to where Isla was standing, her expression distraught as she tried to get her hand out of a stranger's grip. You immediately straightened up, your breath hitching as he pulled Isla onto his lap, his companions laughing at the scene. You were fuming at this point, your feet taking off in her direction, ignoring the calls of the bartender behind you as your shoulder brushed against Yoongi's. But you didn't notice.

Every single member had his eyes trained on you, watching in confusion as you ran to the other end of the club. Right then, Rex happened to look at the entrance, a hooded figure making its way to the mysterious man that was sitting near the bar. He inhaled deeply, looking back at you and then the others. No one was paying attention.

"Guys, Hana's here I think."

At that, everyone's eyes shot to the bar, where Hana took off her hood and began having a serious conversation with the mystery man. Jungkook's blood boiled at the very sight. He was surprised at how quickly he began to hate her but anyone who hurt his family was his enemy. No matter the reasons. He saw Namjoon, fuming and making his way downstairs. Wrong move.

"Let her go." You bellowed over the music, prying the man's hand off of Isla's waist and pulling her to you. She was crying by the time you came, hiding behind you as she sobbed into her hands. You weren't gonna lie that you weren't scared when he stood up but this was no time for that. It was time for you to be strong, to learn to protect yourself.

"And what do you think you're doing?" The drunk man seethed, clenching his fists as the people around you stopped their activities to see what was going on. You breathed heavily, taking a step forward. "I'm sorry but you cannot touch a woman without her consent. We can throw you out for inappropriate behaviour towards the employees." You stated calmly, reminding yourself that you still had a job to keep. Hopefully, your manager would see that you were on the right.

Namjoon was joined by Yoongi as he made his way towards you, his eyes burning holes in the back of your head. You had a lot of explaining to do but that was for later. Right now, he could tell you were getting yourself in trouble. Jungkook discreetly pushed his way towards Namjoon, walking beside him.

"What are you doing? Hana is there and this is gonna grab too much attention." He explained, only to hear a scoff from Namjoon. The leader halted, turning to Jungkook as he stared at him with cold eyes. "Y/N needs to be taken out of here. We don't need to wait for Hana to see us. Go and do what needs to be done." He instructed, earning a reluctant nod from the younger male.

"Oh baby, did you want to be in her place? You just have to ask, you know?" You wanted to throw up at the stench of alcohol in his breath. You were beyond disgusted, your head bringing back unwanted memories when you used to be treated like this by strange men. You swallowed thickly as his friends laughed, his hand inching closer to you. Just as his fingers grazed your skin, he was punched to the side, his body landing on the floor with a loud thud. You gasped, your eyes widening as you looked at whoever had saved you.

Namjoon's eyes looked back into yours with anger and disappointment, your heart fluttering on seeing him but you knew it was over. What you didn't want him to find out, was laid out before him in the clear.

"Namjoon..."

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Tell me if you wanna be tagged! What do you think? I just love cliffhangers.

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[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 05 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 2.4 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

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{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

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Everything She Needs

Many tears cloud your sight when you see it. The cold gel doesn't even bother you anymore. With a bright smile on your lips, you squeeze Keanu's hand. The baby is just a tiny little thing, and you would never find it if it wasn't for the doctor.

“It's our baby.” You whisper, looking at Keanu. He has a small smile too, eyes on the screen.

“Well, we're done here.” The woman says, turning the equipment off and wiping the gel off you.

You're in the middle of week seven, and doctor Amanda Williams suggests a magazine so you can keep up with the development of the baby.

Keanu quickly signs up for the digital version and buys an e-book that explains week by week what happens with both the baby and your body. You're reading it on your new phone since the old one was destroyed in the accident, as Keanu drives you back home.

“On week seven, the baby is the size of a grape.” You read out loud, the tone of your voice raising a little on the last word. “So tiny.” Glancing at Keanu, you furrow your eyebrows. “We found about the pregnancy very early. The doctor said people usually find out around week six. We knew it back on week two.”

He takes a deep breath, eyes focused on the road. “We were planning it so when your period was just a little late, you decided to buy a test and it was positive.” Keanu sounds a little odd, and it makes you look away, reading the e-book to yourself.

Keanu has been weird since last week, but you've been in and out of the hospital, so you didn't have time to talk. Once you get home, you excuse yourself to take a shower, lingering in your bedroom for a while, lying down with a hand on your stomach. It has become a habit, and you've been starting to talk more with the baby too.

A few moments later you head downstairs, finding Keanu on the couch, watching TV. Shyly, you walk over to him, standing beside the couch. It doesn't take much until he notices you.

“What are you watching?”

“The news.” He answers, gesturing for you to sit down, and so you do.

But the silence is uncomfortable, and you don't understand why. You want to ask, but it feels like there's a huge wall separating both of you. It hits you suddenly that it maybe be some kind of crisis. Is it how your marriage ends? Because of you and a stupid accident? Taking one of the pillows, you hug it, breathing deeply and running a hand through your hair.

“Do you want to watch something?” Keanu suddenly asks, breaking the ice. Giving him a look, you nod. “Tell me what.”

“Uhm...” Sitting up straight, you can't help but feel a little better that he's talking to you. “What about that assassin movie you told me about?”

“Alright.” Keanu searches through his phone, and a few moments later he plays the movie on the TV.

Focusing on the film, you can't help but cry a little when some assholes kill the puppy. You try not to let him notice as you wipe some tears away. It's uncertain if the crying is just about the dog or if it's mixed up with everything else. The accident, the situation itself, and Keanu's weird behavior. The hormones are probably adding up too, so you fully crying in no time, watching as John Wick buries the dog in his garden.

“Are you alright?” Keanu asks, and you silently shake your head, eyes still on the screen. “If you're feeling bad we can–”

“I-I'm alright.” Clearing your throat, you try not to be bitter about it. He probably has a lot in his head, that's all. “It's just the dog.”

He nods, and you move away from him just a little. If he needs space, you will give it to him. But the movie takes you over bit by bit, and you're at the edge of your seat by the end, only relaxing when the credits start rolling. You were planning on letting him be, but the movie got you a little excited.

“That was amazing.” You exclaim, turning your body towards him. “You're absolutely awesome and I'm so glad he got Iosef.”

“I'm happy you enjoyed it.”

“Yeah... And you still keep the look.” With a small smile, you gesture at his hair and beard, pretty much the same he had on when playing John Wick. “I really like it.” You decide to say, hoping the low light, since the night is falling, will hide your blushing cheeks.

“That's why I keep it,” Keanu answers, the credits still rolling on the screen.

You lock eyes with him for a while, and you wait for him to look away, but he doesn't. Biting your lip, you pull both your legs up. “What now?” You ask in a low voice.

“There are two other movies.”

“Let's watch them.”

As much as the second movie is great, you're tired, and the fact that you decided to lie down doesn't help. You stay in a half curled position so your feet won't touch Keanu. Sleep starts taking over, and your eyelids get heavy. As you usually do whenever you're almost falling asleep, you place a hand on your stomach, eyes already closed as you try to at least listen to what's going on in the movie. Taking a deep breath, you move almost involuntary, searching for Keanu's hand, pulling it to your belly. The warmth makes you sink a little more into sleep, but when he removes the hand, you're fully awake.

Pushing yourself back to a sitting position, you just decided you can't take it anymore. You need to know what's going on. So you ignore the movie for a while, grabbing his forearm to get his attention. When his dark eyes find you, you sigh. “What's going on?” Your voice is weak, a whisper, and you wonder if he even heard you.

But when he pauses the movie, you know he did. “What do you mean?”

Running a hand through your hair, you feel a lump in your throat. “You've been... Distant. I...” Biting your lip, you look down. “I know everything is screwed up and maybe I'm a stranger to you too since everything... Everything inside me vanished and the girl you fell in love with is gone in a way but I... I'm trying. I'm trying to make things right somehow. I'm trying to remember and–” A sob escapes your lips, followed by some tears. You're feeling lost again, and as much as you're struggling to get used to Keanu, to the fact that you're married to the man, you feel like he's not. He's keeping a distance as if you were nothing to each other. “–and sometimes I fall asleep with my head just about to explode because I'm just trying so hard.” That's something you didn't want him to know, but the words are just coming out. “And it's alright if you want a divorce or something, I already told you that, just... Just don't do that.”

“(Y/N), I–”

“No, please, let me talk.” Clearing your throat and getting up to your feet, you pace around a little, just to catch your breath and maybe the blood flowing will help you think. “I want you to enjoy the pregnancy as well. I know I was put into this crazy situation, married with a child on the way, but we planned this. And I do want you to be part of it, Keanu. So just tell me what you want to do. If you want to break apart, that's alright. I'll still let you be part of everything, b-but if you still love me somehow, let's just... Let's try, you and I. Because I want to, I...” Covering your face with both your hands, you break down again, face already soaked in tears, sobs shaking your body.

His heart broke. Seeing (Y/N) like that, because of him, destroyed Keanu on a whole other level. He was just trying to give her space, not to make things worse, not to touch her, the woman he had nothing with, not to invade her space. He had no idea what he was causing, and if he did, he'd have a totally different approach. Part of him was hoping her memories would come back. Dr. Wright said the longer it takes, smaller are the chances. In the past two weeks, it was critical. If she was to remember, she's doing that on the following days. But she didn't. And Keanu was once again lost in guilt, confused, caught in between the truth and (Y/N)'s truth. Two different things entirely.

And he messed up. He was hurting her, instead of taking care of her.

“I'm sorry.” He mumbles, taking her hand. She pulls away, but he doesn't let go. Her teary eyes meet his, tears still flowing out. “I'm trying not to make you uncomfortable. I can only imagine what it might be to have a man around, wanting to be intimate with you. I am your husband, but I'm just afraid that in your mind I'll be just a stranger trying to take advantage of you.” He speaks slow, thumb caressing her soft skin.

“But I want to try, Keanu.” She whimpers, eyes on the floor. “Or maybe we're just like this? We're a distant couple and I–”

“We're not.” Keanu stands up, hands cupping her face, trying to wipe off some of the tears that don't stop rolling down. He can't let her feel like this. He promised to be with her, and she feels alone. Left aside. This might be a lie to him, the dirtiest lie Keanu had ever told, but to (Y/N), is her life. “We're in love. I'm in love with you. And I'm sorry it came out the wrong way.”

“I... I was reading that book to you and the baby is the size of a grape, it's so tiny and you didn't even...” She makes a pause, taking a deep breath. “It was so interesting and I really wanted to share it with you but you didn't seem like you cared so I just read it all by myself and I know I sound like an idiot, but I want this. I want to try. I don't want to break up a marriage that made both of us happy just because of my stupid brain is a freaking void.” The words come out fast, and (Y/N) covers up her face again.

God, he doesn't even know what hurts more. (Y/N) being so desperate because of him, or him knowing everything she believes in is a forgery. Gently, he pulls her hands down once again. “I'm sorry if I led you to believe that I'm not interested in our child.” How much he wishes it was true. Keanu knows he has to be careful not to fall into his only deceit. “I am. And I have no intention of divorcing you, we're in this together, beautiful, and we'll face it together.” He keeps his voice soft, looking into her sad eyes, shining from the light coming from the paused movie. “Now stop crying, alright?”

She nods, putting a strand of hair behind her ears. “So we're good? I mean... I want to try, i-if you wait a little bit, I'll–”

“I'd wait forever,” Keanu assures her, pulling the girl into his arms, strongly embracing her smaller figure. “Why don't you read the e-book for me?” Sliding his hand in between their bodies, he caresses her belly with the back of his hand.

He'll do it. He'll be her husband, he'll be everything she needs as long as she's happy. As long as she keeps showing him that wonderful smile.

Feeling a little better, you make your way back to the couch after going upstairs to get your phone. Running a hand through your hair, you settle down next to Keanu, closer to him this time, your folded legs only an inch from touching his. You're still a little unsure if he really wants to do this, but you start anyways, clearing your throat. “On week seven the baby is the size of a grape... But I already said that...” Eyes scannig through the words, you try to find the parts you found more interesting.

“It is tiny.” He says, and when you look up, his eyes are already set on you.

“Yeah.” Blushing a little, you focus on the cellphone screen again. “A delicate network of nerves starts spreading through the baby's body, and they will start to make constant little motions. Soon they'll be able to feel sensations like temperature and taste.”

“So they'll start moving.” He says, his giant hand laying on your stomach. “When will they start to kick?”

“Around twenty weeks. So it'll be a while until that.” Going through the pages, you sigh. “It says that I'll feel thirsty more often and that I should do some exercise.”

“We could walk around the condo every morning,” Keanu suggests and you put the phone away, throwing it behind your back.

“I'd like that.” You agree, shyly nodding.

“I–” He's interrupted by his phone beeping, signaling a text arrived. Or plenty, because it keeps beeping non-stop. He furrows his eyes and picks it from the coffee table, eyes moving through the screen.

“Something happened?”

“Lucia Davis.” He says, typing something down before looking back at you. Keanu seems worried suddenly, a little restless. “She... She was friends with your mother and she's coming to visit you next week.”

“That's good.”

“It is.”

“Then why do you look so... Troubled?” Moving a little closer, you touch his shoulder.

“I'm just worried it'll be too much for you. You just told me you're going to sleep with terrible headaches and I don't want anyone else who'll push you too hard.”

With a small smile on your lips, you decide to be a little brave, moving to place a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for worrying about me. But I'm fine, and if I'm not I'll let you know, I promise.”

He smiles too, caressing your chin with his index finger. “Alright. Now keep reading, there's still a lot we need to learn about our baby.”

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