#just in time to watch everything fall apart in slow motion for your whole life

[three--rings]

Buffalo, New York, has houses around the 100k mark. They are not fantastic but they are livable. The weather is not bad, you get real winters but they move out on time then you get nice classic springs and falls. Mild summers in the 80s or so, rare 90 days. The state overall is blue, though this area's a bit more red. The state level laws keep things nice. I moved here for the nationally known autism support services (which are in new york city, but its available by train). You could zillow some places, and I'll tell you if the posts reflect reality. Tell you how good the area is. Though because it is a red area, the posts you'll have from some people call areas bad cause non white people live there.

Thank you for the input, I was actually being genuine in asking.

I lived in NY for a couple years actually, though close to the city, not upstate.

The thing keeping us from considering a lot of places is the weather, which Buffalo firmly falls into. Because both my husband and I are disabled in ways that make dealing with snow, shoveling snow, basically out of the question.

Honestly I'm not wild about actual winters, seasonal depression is a main reason I left NY and came back to Texas, but cold per se isn't a problem so much as grey, lifelessness for months on end and having to dig your car out to go anywhere.

Two of our closest couple friends have moved out of Texas, one to Illinois and one to Iowa and I'd love to be closer to them but...weather...

This is all theoretical because we don't have the financial situation to move right now. We own our home and land but it's not worth a lot. But, well, we've started talking about it in a long term way.

But it's honestly fucked how few places there are that are both affordable and not run by evil religious extremists. Like we basically keep running through red states like..."well, it's not AS BAD as Texas, right?" Or, "it's moving towards being a swing state, right?"

And I hate it so much because I honestly love my state (like, the actual LAND, yanno) and it's home and the GOP only wins by a handful of points and most people are disenfranchised so I know actually they are a minority. And we are way more racially diverse than almost anywhere else, that's something people who leave Texas always comment on. But unfortunately the fucking fascists are determined to take everyone down to hell with them.

And yeah this is just stressing me out a lot right now and taking a toll to the point I'm having trouble even looking at the internet.

IDK IDK please do tell me about the places with the not terrible winters where you can buy a small house or condo for a reasonable price where the GOP isn't coming for your rights.

[222col]

second to last part of sugardaddy!au | it's down to the wire, who's it going to be, art or patrick? | 18+

your neck's cramping, watching the tennis ball fly from one side of the court to the other and back and back again. past and present battling it out in front of you, watching both art and patrick pour everything they have into the game. it's the third of five sets, the boys currently winning one a piece each. your eyes are flying back and forth, listening to the grunts falling from their lips, knees bouncing up and down as you watch intently. one final grunt from patrick as the ball bounces over to art. "fuck!" he screams out, patrick so smug, another set handed to him.

the boys are panting, wiping the sweat from their faces as they take their seats. they're in sync, pulling out water bottles from under chairs and sipping. both sets of eyes on you, a motivation, a reminder of what's at stake. you're none the wiser of the deal the boys have made, but that doesn't mean you're unaware of the tension between them. you can feel it, the whole crowd can too, as if it was announced to the world that they were fighting for you. you don't know where to look, eyes flicking between the boys as though the match was still going.

watching patrick crack his neck as art stretches out his legs, staring each other down as they do. patrick smiling, thriving off the tension. "donaldson to serve." the umpire announces. your breath hitches, not that its been steady once the whole match. the noises that leave the boys' lips when hitting the ball unfocusing your brain from the game in front of you. shaking the dirty thoughts from your mind, breathing deeply as you watch the games before you. art snatches another set, two each, everything coming down to the final set of games. running quickly to the bathroom to gather yourself before the final set.

closing the bathroom's door behind you as you turn back to return to your seat, before art appears before you. "i used my bathroom break as soon as i saw you leave." he breaths out, still panting from his excursion. "we're playing for you, you know," his hand caresses your cheek. "what?" you question, leaning into his hand without realising. your brows are furrowed, you should be running for the hills. you're not a prize to be won, not a trophy for the winner. but you're not their girlfriend, in some fucked up way you're their employee. they pay you in presents and apartments and really fucking good sex. you do as you're told, shower them in attention and look after them in return. and yeah, feelings may be involved now, but you're still just technically working for them.

"patrick and i made a deal, winner takes all." you're stunned that art would agree, dumbfounded of how when he knows tashi sent you away. his thumb is stroking your face. "but even if you win, what about what tashi said-" he cuts you off, shushing you gently. "don't worry about it. we'll work it all out when i win." art places a kiss to your forehead before sprinting back to the court to avoid a time penalty.

taking your seat, the boys move into position for the fifth and final set. patrick winks to you as he throws the ball to the ground a few times, before up in the air to serve. all remaining energy is used by both boys, pulling out any special moves they had left in the locker. grunting louder, sweating more, desperate to clinch the win. their feet move like dancers, the grip you have on your knees tightening, leaning forward, desperate for the anxiety to leave your body, but knowing it won't, not even once the winner is crowned.

it's almost in slow motion as you watch the ball bounce out of the court, the umpire announcing the points. watching rackets hit the floor as he jumps into the air, screaming for joy. you're on your feet, mouth agape as you instinctively start clapping. one boy falling to the floor as the other continues celebrating. it's more than tennis, it's more than winning, it's more than life itself. your ears are ringing, finally locking eyes with him. those blonde locks bouncing as he drops to his knees in ecstasy. for the first time in major competition, art donaldson beats patrick zweig.

patrick lays on the floor of the court, chest rising repeatedly, screaming out "fuck me!" as he lays. all art wants to do is run over to you, sweep you off your feet and take you home, but he knows its not that easy. he smiles bigger than you've ever seen, standing up and walking over to patrick. holding out his arm for patrick to take, lifting him back up to his feet. "fair play, donaldson." he's shaking his head, patting art on the back. he's been defeated, when it mattered most. the boys collect their first and second place trophies, posing for pictures before art swings his arm around patrick, nodding for you to follow them off the court.

you meet them both in art's dressing room, immediately being scooped up into art's arms. laughing into his shoulder before he places you back on the ground. patrick's hiding his pain with a smile. opening his mouth to speak before the door opens and tashi walks in. "christ, you three are like a telenovela." art's arm snakes around your waist, patrick sitting on the bench next to you. "we have a lot to discuss." tashi leads you to the car waiting at the side entrance. "you too, zweig."

the journey is awkward, the car full of tension, undisguised by the silence. the boys sit together, the row behind you and tashi. pulling up to the donaldson residence, the four of you congregating in the living room. the boys sandwich you on the three seater, tashi alone on the chair, facing the three of you. after a few beats of more silence, tashi states your name. "when i invited you into my home, i underestimated you. i thought you'd just be some fun young thing that my husband would inevitably get bored with, but that isn't the case, is it?" she's waiting for an answer as she stares down art, legs crossed on the arm chair. art shakes his head, barely making eye contact with his wife. "i brought you to my home to give art the attention he was lacking, so i could focus on his tennis." even patrick isn't smiling, the situation all to serious and awkward for your liking. "and you did that, maybe a little too well. i've watched my husband fall in love with you over the past year, and although it wasn't what i wanted, it has made him a better tennis player."

art's blushing, embarrassed at the display his wife is making, his hand moving to your knee as she admits the true feelings he has for you. "so, when i realised the love my husband had gained for you, i sent you away. what i didn't expect was for loverboy over there to swoop you up the moment you left." you're grimacing, and of course, patrick is now smirking. his hand now moving to the knee that art isn't touching. tashi states your name again, your eyes locking with hers. "i don't know what it is that you do to get both these boys eating out of the palm of your hand, but i do know, their tennis skills are better for it." tashi has gained her power back, she had the second she walked into art's dressing room. "i can't help you decide who's dick you want to suck more money out of, but i am removing myself from it all." it's your turn to blush now, art's eyes picking up at tashi's statement. she stands from her chair, ready to leave the room before stating. "i will always be your coach art, but you need more from a partner than i can give you." she smiles slightly, like she's finally letting her caged bird free.

the two boys' heads turn to face you. "i won, she's mine. you can't go back on it now, patrick." patrick rolls his eyes, looking to you for an answer.

"what do you say, princess? who's it going to be, me or art?"

[superblysubpar]

You Can Have The Best Of Me, Baby steve harrington x fem! reader

Summary: Steve and you share a desperate night together during the end of the world. | masterlist | steve's music | NSFW 18+

1-3k range word count

Warnings: slightly angsty, mentions of blood, bruises, and overall end of the world stranger things are we going to die sort of things, shower smut (unprotected piv - creampie).

Dark and threatening clouds fill the sky beyond the BMW’s windshield. They’re not the blues and purples of a summer thunderstorm, but black and oozing with something sinister. The pair of you lit up by random flashes of red that race across the sky. It’s all something straight out of a nightmare. It’s things only your unconscious body can conjure up, yet there it all sits in front of you. Here it is - actually happening. You never should have come back to Hawkins. 

BANG. BANG. 

Your head almost hits the roof of the car, shoulders to ears and hands slapping over your mouth to cover the scream that started to leave you. Steve glares in the rearview mirror as Murray’s voice shouts through the closed windows, “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!”

Your hands shake as they fall from your lips into your lap, caked in earth and other worldly dark goo, plus the dried blood that’s not even yours. Muscles screaming, your entire body wants to shut down, to collapse, to give up. His hand falls to your thigh and you look up through blurred vision at the boy beside you. 

Well, not a boy anymore. Steve isn’t your childhood best friend with grape popsicle stained lips, holding your hand on the roof of his house while you look for shooting stars. He’s a man. A man who you’ve loved your entire life, a man you almost just lost. Again. 

Body moving in slow motion it seems, you reach across the console, pulling his face closer as you press your lips to his softly. Steve’s hand squeezes your thigh, his other tangling in your hair as he deepens what may be a poorly timed kiss, but they do it in the movies, right? Plus, he almost just lost you. Steve tugs on the back of your neck gently, drawing you further into him and you start to climb over the console when another loud whack to the roof startles you apart. 

Hopper’s face is unamused in the driver’s window and he hooks his thumb over his shoulder - a universal signal for “get out” as he walks away, shaking his head. Steve kisses you one more time, soft and chaste and over too soon and he starts to pull his hand away from your thigh, but you grip it in yours. Staring at him as your chin wobbles, fighting off the tears you’ve kept at bay for days. He just nods, knuckles brushed by his thumb and he pulls your enclosed hands up to start the car together. Leaving a kiss on your wrist and holding it up to his cheek as he drives to the house in a daze. 

Aside from the droplets of what you hope is rain (but after everything you’ve learned, you wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if it’s not) hitting and dripping down the windows, it’s silent the whole drive until he turns down his street. Your street. As the wheels slosh through puddles of flooded water, avoiding the caved in earth and holes into what you’d quite literally consider hell, your whisper breaks the silence. 

“It’s over.” Steve squeezes your fingers now resting together on his thigh as you dare to add on, “Right?”

You watch as Steve stares out the windshield, mouth downturned and you know he’s thinking that it isn’t. That he’s been here before. This seems far from over, it seems like the beginning of the end of the world. 

As Steve pulls into the driveway, he pulls the keys from the ignition, letting go of your hand despite the noise of protest you make. He’s around the front of the car and pulling you out quickly though, still rushing, but dragging you softly by the wrist into the house. His hands shake as his head does the same, back and forth, side to side like he’s frustrated, like he knows the answer but refuses to acknowledge it just like he did when you were kids. You’re waiting for the solid “Nope” to leave his lips, for him to push down the fear you see building in his eyes and neither come. 

Instead, Steve’s hands shake harder as his fingertips skim over your face, eyes bouncing across your own, your nose, your lips like he’s memorizing it all, like he’s memorizing you.

“It’s not over, and I can’t-” his voice cracks, his lips pressing to yours softly, “I can’t lose you.”

His mouth plants quick kisses across your skin, catching every freckle, your nose, eyebrows, and chin as tears fall down his cheeks and any crying you planned to do is shoved further away. Steve doesn’t cry. He’s breaking. He has been, and he’s been hiding it.

Your hands hold either side of his head, pulling him away just enough so you can look into his eyes, “Hey,” pressing your forehead to his, you try to force a smile, voice thick with choked back emotions, “Where the hell would I be going, Harrington?”

Steve sobs. 

His hands cling to your sides, fisting your shirt in his fingers as his head falls to your shoulder, “I’m so-sorry,” he speaks into your neck, growing wet from his tears and he presses his nose to your skin, sniffling and shutting it all down quickly. He clears his throat and you run your hands through the back of his hair.

“Steve, there’s nothing to be sorry fo-”

He interrupts you with a kiss, deeper than any of the ones you’ve shared so far tonight. It’s a kiss that he’s been holding back, one that says everything he wants to say, one that shows you all he wants to do, drawing every ounce of breath from you. Both hands falling into his hair and your body rising onto your toes, chasing and pulling away from him all at the same time as he lets you go. Both of you gasping for air as he squeezes your hips and shakes his head, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

Head dizzy from the kiss, you couldn’t argue even if you wanted to try. He wipes at his cheeks with the back of his hand before pulling you up the stairs and to the bathroom attached to his room. The quiet house should be a welcomed friend, but it feels too big and too ominous and Steve closes the door on it all, like the bathroom is the only place in the world right now. 

You’re both ignoring the other’s shaking hands, and you suppose your own too. Telling yourselves it’s just another shower together. It’s nothing to worry about, you’re fine. It’s over.

When you both blink and squint at the harsh overhead lighting, Steve lights candles as the water heats up, steam filling the room as he flicks off the light. Hands never losing contact if the other grabs something - yours pressed to his hips as he removes a shirt, his on your lower back as you reach in to feel the water. Stealing kisses in between the dirty clothes shed and dropped to the bathroom floor. Almost shy to remove your bra and underwear despite Steve seeing it all numerous times, gaze falling to the floor as you let yourself be exposed to each other in a new way. You don’t miss his sharp inhale as your injuries are fully revealed to him now, and he doesn’t miss the way you squeeze your eyes closed at the sight of his. Steve’s hands roam up from your bare hips and his lips catch yours again, your fingers cradling his chin as he backs you both up clumsily into the open glass door. 

Lips breaking apart as the hot water hits your body and you throw your head back with a groan. Steve lets you take the spot mainly under the stream first. Muscles unfurling as the hot water washes over you, running muddy and rust colored down the drain until it’s clear. His lips trail behind your hands as you wash the past few days from your skin. Kissing the pain and unwanted memories away the best he can.  

Swapping places, your feet overlap on top of his, unable to back away, to give him space even though you know you should. The sight of your bright red polish stark against the tile and a different shade of red mixing at your feet has you swallowing audibly, blowing out a shaky breath against his chest. Steve’s hands have been wandering over your body, brushing carefully over bruises that have faded, scars and scratches, all reminders of the ways he wasn’t quick enough, reminders of how he didn’t protect you, how close he’s been to losing you over and over again. 

Your fingers move to help wash his hair so you don’t stare at how the water runs a darker red leaving his skin than it did yours. You hide the shake in your hands by pressing his hair down flat behind his ears, swallowing the fears and tears that keep trying to rise up and out of you. 

The flicker of orange and yellow candle light cast over the room should be accompanied by music, and whispering sweet nothings to each other, slow and steamy kissing to match the haze filling the room. But you’re starting to wonder if you’ll ever have sensual and intimate moments that aren’t cast in an end of the world doom again. Shouldn’t it be over? Why doesn’t it all feel over? Steve’s eyes trail across your body still, lingering on the fresh bruise across your ribs and he bends down, the furrow between his eyebrows pressing against yours.

His lips catch your top one, a barely there brush of a kiss and he whispers, voice straining, “I need you to know,” Steve’s voice wobbles, “You’re the best-”

He squeezes his eyes closed, shaking his head against yours before he pulls away, eyes dancing over your face again like he had downstairs. Like he was desperate to capture you completely in that moment because he didn’t think he’d get another chance to. 

Steve’s gaze finally finds yours, honey and moss dripping into and clinging to any crack he can find as the rough pad of his thumb grazes over your bottom lip. His voice barely audible over the water hitting the tile now, “Whatever you want.”

“Steve-” 

Shaking his head again, his hands move to cradle your cheeks, thumbs brushing softly as tears fill his eyes, “I don’t care about anything but you. Okay? I just need you to know that I’m yours. And whatever you want - just, take it…please? We’re going to be fine, and we’re gonna,” he swallows harshly, licking his lips as his eyes bounce back and forth between yours again, “I’ll give you anything you want, I’ll give you everything. It’s yours. I’m yours.”

He holds his breath as he waits until you nod. He’ll give you it all one day, he will. A future with your own house, and kids and that fucking RV trip to the Grand Canyon you came up with when you were twelve. He knows it. His fingertips trail over your neck, tracking the beads of water that drip down your curves. Lips hovering over each other, breaths slowing as you focus on feeling every touch of his skin to yours. 

Steve’s hands settle on your hips, palms flattening and squeezing softly as he closes the small distance between you. His hands soothe up your skin, wrapping around your back, pulling you as close as you can possibly be to him. Your own hands glide over his chest, shaking fingertips brushing over the swirls of blue and purple, the angry red and raised marks. Your nose presses into his cheek and the sob you’ve been holding back falls from your lips. 

You almost lost him again. 

He nods - he knows, his own breath shaking as his fingers press deeper into your spine and neither of you can hold it in anymore. 

Lips crashing into each other, your arms fall to over his shoulders, hands tangling in the back of his hair as he presses you into the cold glass door. Lips moving furiously, panting breaths and heaving chests, his hand moves back to your jaw, pulling softly so he can tilt your head and kiss you how he thought he’d never get to again. Dragging your mouth open for him, he catches your bottom lip, teeth scraping over it and your moans mix, lost and drowning in the water falling around you. Not new touches, but it all might as well be. Watching him almost die again, you’re determined to focus on how every kiss and touch feels until the day you die.  

Steve really can’t hold back anymore, his other hand slides down, gripping at your thigh and lifting it to sit on his hip. Your frantic nodding, forehead pressed to his while your lips never stop devouring each other, leads him to let go of your jaw. Lifting your other leg until they’re both wrapped around his waist. Head hitting the glass behind you, exposing and opening your neck to him as he slides between your folds. His tip catches your clit on the drag up, the whimper you let out at the feeling he determines to be the greatest sound on earth.  

“Please.”

Begging him, you tug on his hair as his mouth presses up and down your neck, he wants too much. He wants to kiss over every inch of your skin that he thought he’d never see again, he wants to take his time, to make it all stand still. He can’t though, it’s like he has tunnel vision, the world around him blurring. Steve wants to give you everything, the best of him, he wants to be sweet and slow, show you how much he loves you, but all he can do is thrust up into you without warning, a deep and gritty moan pulled from his chest as a gasp that he wants to bottle comes out of you. 

Steve’s hands dig into your hips, bruising and holding you as hard as he can as another sob escapes your lips. Your hands drift to his shoulders, fingernails scraping and clawing into his skin as your back arches off of the door from the relieving drag of his cock along your walls and the push back in. It’s too slow for either of you - too soft, and on another thrust into you, his nose and forehead push into yours. 

“Baby, I-” 

You’re nodding as Steve chokes on his thoughts, his eyes squeezing shut, your lips catch his again. There isn’t time for words that you both already know and have said too many times to count. You just need this. You need it now. 

One of his hands supports your lower back, the other runs up and down your thigh, he’s not even holding you up anymore, you’re just clinging to him with the intent of never letting go as his hips pick up their pace. Brutal and fast, pounding into you as your lips mold around his. Every inch of your body is pressed to his, holding him to you like he can’t ever leave you, because he can’t. 

“Steve-” his name is a cry, a plea, an ask for something you don’t even know anymore. 

Hips snapping together, water smacking the tile around you harshly as your stomach tightens and your body fills with heat quickly. 

Steve is swearing against your lips, fingers dragging along your skin and your mouths aren’t even kissing each other anymore. You’re all sharp shared breaths, gasps for air, names falling out and into each other. Noses and lips bumping in passes over each other’s as he moves faster, hitting so deep over and over again that you can feel him in your throat. Sobbing as you yank on his hair too harshly, he bites your lip too forcefully, growling your name as you scream his from how much you can’t take it all anymore. 

He holds your ass now, gripping it tight enough to match the bruises he’s no doubt thrusting into you and your fingers press crescent moons into his shoulders, begging him for more when he can’t possibly give you anything else. 

“Oh-shit, fuck-” Steve’s hips start to stutter and you grab at his chin, forcing him to look at you. 

He sobs again, clutching at your body desperately, wide hands splayed across your skin, fingers digging in as you stare into each other’s eyes. Crying one another’s names until your bottom lip catches his top one in a silent scream as your release vibrates through your whole body, his following almost immediately after. Filling you completely as his hips lose all of their momentum and rhythm and he pants your name into your mouth, kissing you as you both come down and your thighs shake as your body continues to grip his.  

Steve doesn’t let you go, keeping you wrapped around him as he kisses over tear stained cheeks, whispering how much you love each other until your muscles relax again. He still doesn’t let you go as he turns the water off, not even bothering to grab towels and he brings you to his bed. It’s you who refuses to let go now, straddling him as he leans against the headboard. Wandering hands and slow and languid kisses pick up their pace once more. Sensual and soft memorizing touches turning desperate. You need to keep going, to grip the bedsheets and scream each other’s names all night long, to never ever think it was a bad idea to come back to Hawkins ever again. 

A silently agreed upon plan to kiss, and kiss some more, and never take the kisses for granted because it’s the end of the world. 

It most definitely isn’t over. 

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought, and I hope you consider reblogging my work to get it circulated to new readers - thanks for being here 💛

Steve Tag List: @boomhauer @loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean @pastel-pillows @littlesubbyflower @aftermidnightwriting

[buildarocketboys]

peterick + 69 (nice) (also these are all gonna be peterick because there are so many good ones for them)

@floralegia haha you both had the same idea...uh in contrast to the funny number, this is kinda pretty angsty ybc...sorry? Been wanting to write some young blood chronicles and this was kinda the perfect opportunity

69. “Why the hell are you bleeding!?”

Patrick comes to.

Patrick's eyes have been bright yellow this whole time, possessed not by demons but by a constant, overwhelming onslaught of sensation.

Pete has been fighting Patrick, he realizes now, not to protect the briefcase or even to protect himself, but because that's all that's left to do. That's what's expected of them.

Well, Pete's not gonna do what they want him to anymore.

He sets his bass-cum-machete down on the ground. No more.

As he does so, Patrick's hook catches him in the stomach, the momentum plunging the blade deep into his guts. Pete falls, in what feels like slow motion, watching the yellow seep out from his best friend's eyes, changing to brown and then his natural blue.

Patrick stares down at him, aghast.

"Why the hell are you bleeding?!"

Pete looks down at himself, his abdomen a mess of blood and guts, and chuckles weakly. "Your hook," he says, and suddenly it's the funniest thing in the world. He can't stop laughing.

Patrick looks at his hook in horror, registering the smear of red across the metal and the blood dripping from the end.

He drops to his knees. "Oh fuck...Pete, what have I done?" He gathers Pete to him, laying his head gently in his lap. Pete is still in hysterics, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps now as life leaches out of him. "Everything was just so loud," Patrick whispers. "I just wanted it to stop, and- WILL YOU STOP LAUGHING?"

Pete manages to contain himself. "I'm sorry," he says weakly. "It's just...after all this... it's the way I would have wanted to go, Patrick."

Patrick presses his eyes closed. Pete hears his breath catch. "It's not the way I want you to go," he says. "I don't want you to go at all!" His breath hitches again, and suddenly he's crying and trying to stop himself from crying all at once, angrily brushing tears away from his face as they fall. "First Joe and now you," he says.

All Pete wants to do is comfort him. He reaches up and touches Patrick's face. "It's not your fault," he promises. None of this is Patrick's fault. He won't let Patrick blame himself for what those people did to him.

"I just wanted it to stop," Patrick whimpers. "I didn't know how to make it stop."

Pete brushes tears away from his eyes. "It's OK, buddy. We made it stop."

Patrick shakes his head. "You made it stop." He sniffles. "What am I supposed to do without you?"

Pete tries to shrug, although he's not sure it comes across. "You keep going. Keep fighting. For both of us."

Patrick shakes his head. "I can't- I have to make this right. I have to save you, Pete. I- I'll get you to a hospital, they can fix you up, it's a stomach wound, stomach wounds don't kill you immediately, I read that somewhere once, we've got time."

Pete shakes his head. It makes his vision go blurry. "No time left," he manages to say. Words are getting harder now - harder than they've ever been. He puts every last ounce of effort into his next ones: "I don't regret a single second of it." He squeezes Patrick's hand, so Patrick knows that he means he doesn't regret a single second with him.

Patrick forces himself to give Pete a watery smile. "I don't either," he admits. "Well, apart from the killing you with my hook part. That part sucked."

Pete laughs. "Yeah..."

"I wish we had more time," Patrick whispers.

Pete lets his eyes flutter closed. There'll be no more time for him. "In another life," he whispers, and he hopes Patrick hears it, hopes he believes it.

The next moment, he's gone.

[st4cys]

✧.* chapter one: a new start - miguel ohara

[ warnings ] angsty, little fluff, not proofread, that's all i guess

[ w.c ] 1.7k+

[ a/n ] i had an emergency and couldn't finish it yesterday as i was willing to, but is here

series masterlist

You were trying your hardest. Swinging the fast as possible between the metals of the tall bridge, holding the amount of civilians you could to bring them to a safe spot.

The bridge was crumbling, broken in half as the vehicles were sliding down towards the water. You couldn't just let it happen, so you did your best to save your town.

You managed to save some people, and even bring the kindergarten bus to the surface as the group of children were freaking out inside the vehicle. You and the team saved a good amount of thirty to forty people, but you couldn't save her.

You catch a glimpse of your aunt's car almost falling of the bridge. It was like the world was on slow motion. You runned as fast as you could to manage and throw a web at the car, and you could've done it, if a pair of big strong arms wouldn't have hold you back.

'I'm sorry, I had to' he whispered, too low you couldn't quite comprehend it, busy with the traumatising scene happening right in front of your eyes.

She was gone. The woman who raised you since your firsts years of life. The woman you owed your life. Gone. In the sea with the rest of the broken bridge.

'No!' You scream, the emotional pain translates into a real heartache, your knees felt weak and if it wasn't for Miguel holding you, you would be probably fallen by your knees.

Miguel's embrace suddenly felt tighter enough to be agonising. You push his arms away from your body aggressively, freeing yourself from his grasp, looking at him with the most hurted eyes he had ever seen.

'W-why-'

'I'm sorry'

'Why would you do this?' You look at him with a raised eyebrows, the tears ricocheting down your flushed cheeks, stepping back when he try to get closer.

'I had to, the canon, I told you, I...' You'd never seen Miguel like this, with this apologetic look, everyone was used to his stoicism and mad face all the time.

The watch in your right wrist felt heavy as you're fidgeting with it, thinking about the consequences of your next nove.

And with a click, you took the device from your wrist, letting it fall to the ground as you received a petty look from Jess, bur you just stared at the ground.

You throw a web to the nearest building, swinging away, and Miguel is ready to follow you, but stops as Jess' hand finds his chest.

'Leave her,' He sighs, both of them looking at your swinging figure disappear between the buildings. 'You know how hard it is'

_

Earth-2033. Your earth. It felt weird for him to be there after two years of avoiding that world. But it was not different though. The same New York that with the shitty weather, making it look like it was winter the whole year.

The snowflakes falling down reminded him of the silver webs of your suit. People running and pushing each other on the sidewalk, too busy with their ten-dollar lattes and their business phone calls to worry about the tall man wearing a deep blue and red super-hero costume. There are freaks all over the town, they would say.

He's breaking into your apartment, by the window of your bedroom. The same with the broken lock he always said for you to fix, you never listened to him.

The room is quite the same, the posters of bands and tv shows on on wall. An easel on the other side of the room, that you never really touched. The wallpaper, the picture frames.

You wasn't there, he'd knew if you were, the lights would be on even if you weren't at the room (you always complained about the expensive electricity bill, but never stop with this thing of leaving everything lit). You were smart, you would know if there were someone in your apartment even if you were sleeping.

So he tried on the coffee shop down street. He knew you liked that place because the coffee was bearable, and also wasn't a fortune. You brought him there just one time, claiming the chocolate chip cookies from there would make him day better. It did.

You weren't there also. There was a guy at the table you used to stay, that just looked up from his laptop, staring at him but got back to typing as he shake his head.

He had to think a little if he wanted to find you. Maybe you were at work, but there were zero chances for him to find out were you worked right now. So he had one option.

The cemetery.

And this time he actually found you. Kneeled in front of your aunts gravestone, head low. he read the words engraved on the stone object, bringing him a slight feel of guilt. He take off his mask.

You don't see him.

'... And i got a new job' you say through sniffles. 'It's not really too much but it's definitely worth it'

The little sobs become real crying. Miguel thinks of getting closer but he choose not to.

'I feel so stupid talking to a gravestone' you kinda laugh, wiping the tears off of your face with your forehand but they can't stop from falling. 'but i don't have anyone else to talk'

'I'm so lonely, May' you say, fidgeting with the petals of the small bouquet you had brought. Your phone rings, it's a notification from your annoying neighbour, saying your cat peed on his plants again. You didn't even had a cat.

'I should probably go, love you' you leave the bouquet of white and purple flowers and get up to your feet, turning around as your expression fall off completely when you look at him.

'What are you doing here?' you say in a harsh tone, eyebrows furred as you kept the distance between you and Miguel. He sigh, preparing for his next words.

'I need your help-'

'Cut that shit off' you interrupt him, your tone and you expression mismatching the puffy glossy eyes and red face from crying. 'I'm not- I don't wanna talk to you'

You start walking, passing by him but he stop you by holding your wrist.

'Please Y/n' you direct your gaze to his brown eyes, he gulped seeing your expression of rage. 'I need- the multiverse needs your help'

You let out a dry laugh, yanking your wrist from his hand. He looks down.

'You know what, Miguel? I don't give a fuck about the multiverse since what happened' you look back at your aunt's grave.

Biting your lips to contain more tears from falling down, you say; 'You can- you should start looking out for another spider-person to help because I just won't'

You start leaving again, and he's suddenly in front of you, his giant body preventing you from walking.

'You know there's no one like you, Y/n' he says. 'You're special, Jess always told you that, I always... just you can help us with that'

You look at his eyes once again, shaking your head.

'I would love to help, Miguel' you say sarcastically, and you could see clearly the roll of his eyes. 'but I don't do that spider-girl-woman thing anymore' and you start walking, leaving the man there speachless, until he starts following you again.

'Wha-what do you mean you don't do it anymore?'

'I just don't do it'

He grabs your arm quite aggressively this time, turning your around so you can face him, but you almost face his chest with the abrupt motion. With wide eyes you look up at him, the once brown eyes are now with a glint of red in it, and his fangs are starting to show. You raise your eyebrows in question, his grip on your arm loosen, receiving from him an apologetic look.

'How could you just give up your powers like this?'

'I think you know i have a lot of reason for this, Miguel, including my aunt's death, the only thing i had in this world, in this fucking multiverse!' you eyes start to burn and you try not to but a tear can't help itself from sliding down your cheeks. 'I have nothing... All because of that stupid bug and this stupid powers!'

You look at him, unsteady breathing and shaking hands. 'Why would you think I would keep doing this? When it took me away from all that I got?' you say in a lower tone, it was almost a whisper, looking at his eyes waiting for an answer.

It felt like hours passed when he said, 'You have us'

'I had you' and now your crying got deeper, the sobs preventing you from talking clearly. 'I- don't have you anymore'

In the other second you had your face buried into Miguel's neck, with your arms wrapped around his neck. The sudden act caught Miguel by surprise, standing still on his place.

Noticing he didn't move, you tried to take a step back, whispering a soft apology but his big hands found your lower back to keep you in place.

You just stood there, enjoying the presence of each other. Your muffled cries then turned into sobs and the tears stopped rolling down.

'We miss you' he whispered, cringing at his sudden show of affection.

'I miss you too' you unwrap yourself from the embrace as you looked everywhere but at his face, felling the rush of blood on your cheeks. However, his hands stood on your waist, and your heart skipped a beat when you felt his thumb caressing the spot in circles.

Back in the day Jess would always say you both had a thing, and after some point you started to believe her. Nothing happened though, no kisses or other things, but Miguel couldn't deny he had a soft side for you that no one else would meet.

Lyla would say the age was getting him soft or that he had a crush on you. He always denied it, finding the word too childish and trying to suppress whatever he felt for you.

'I didn't programmed you to mind about my personal life' he would say with a small glint of red on his cheeks, flustered, keeping his gaze on the orange screens. 'I don't need your opinion about this'

'Yeah yeah' she laughed, humming as she fade away.

'I'm not sure if I have my suit anymore' You say, the right corner of your mouth slightly upwards.

He smirks, letting out a noise from his throat, almost a laugh. 'We'll get you a new one'

©️ st4cys. all rights reserved.

[bigyikes97]

recommend me another depressing Korean gangster movie

>:D

Hmmm hmmm ok so if you say "another", that means you maybe already watched either "The Merciless" or "A Bittersweet Life" or perhaps both, which were the depressing Korean gangster movies I posted about most on here and both of which I very highly recommend...A Bittersweet Life is one of my favorite movies of all time, if not my top fave. In case you watched one but not the other:

A Bittersweet Life - a story about a man who catches one imperfect glimpse of beauty and throws away everything in a inevitable and helpless grasp at something he knows he can never have. I cried at the soundtrack for days after my first watch, haha.

The Merciless - a stylishly shot and perhaps more hardboiled noir about a chosen one who really meant it when he said he shouldn't be the chosen one, which falls apart in a spectacular and heartrending explosion of betrayal, confusion, and devastation. Like watching a trainwreck in slow motion.

These are most definitely my top 2 in the whole world so far, and honestly nothing else really plucks exactly those same chords with me in terms of overall excellence, but here's a few others nonetheless:

A Company Man - More of a straightforward shoot-em-up. Could be taken as either an action flick kinda sorta similar to Bittersweet Life (gangster wants out, gang won't let him go) or a harsh satire of South Korean work culture, which makes it (imho) slightly more interesting. Definitely depressing gangsters, for sure!

The Man from Nowhere - it's more of a vigilante justice/revenge thriller and a lot of people liked it, but unfortunately since it was one of the first in the genre (at least from South Korea), in my opinion it's since been done better. Or maybe I'm just chronically Kdrama-ing so I have more stringent standards, lol. The main lead's looks are to die for though if that's an aspect that appeals to you--and many folks loved it, 100% on Rotten Tomatoes!

The Gangster, The Cop, The Devil - On paper it looks amazing--a brash cop has to team up with a gangster to take down an even bigger criminal, exposing the corruption of the cops and the weird code of honor among the criminals. Usually that's my cup of tea and I came in SO ready to love this movie but...somehow didn't. I don't know why. It even had Ma Dong Seok, who's usually great! However, it got 97% on Rotten Tomatoes, so maybe you'll see something about it I missed if you watch it :)

Gangnam Blues - So, I didn't watch this one myself, but it's got Lee Min Ho and a historical-fiction take on the real-life corruption and money/power plays surrounding the creation of the glitzy Gangnam district from a marsh in the 70's, it looks interesting! I'll probably watch it in the future.

Speaking of, Ma Dong Seok is pretty much the go-to guy for Korean gangster movies. He's been in the genre since forever, if you search his name you'll likely find some good ones I haven't heard about.

I don't know if you're interested in extending your search to dramas, but in case you are:

Insider - one of THE best kdramas I've seen, hands down. The set-up is similar to The Merciless in that a guy goes undercover in prison to catch a gangster and ends up forming bonds with a high-ranking member while working on the inside. However, the similarities stop there. I think I binged it in like 3 days. It's gritty and doesn't let up, but the main guy is one of my favorite protagonists ever and the ending was fantastic

Big Mouth - it came out around the same time and also involves a wrongful imprisonment, but with a hilarious twist (along with some Very Not Hilarious ones) that make it a different flavor. I got busy and didn't finish (and also didn't have subtitles while it was airing)

Watcher - This one's more on the one-righteous-cop-vs-corrupt-conglomerate side of things, which will always and forever be my jam. The moody atmosphere and insanely tight writing make this one of my favorites. I've seen it like 4 or 5 times and seem to catch something new each time, the writing is extremely satisfying and there are great female characters too, which I'm all about.

Nobody Knows - I'm watching this one right now and it's also more on righteous detective vs killer side of things, but it's got a fascinating female lead, great characters, consistent plot and great storytelling so far.

Triangle - this one is about gangsters and casinos and is unique because it's one of the WORST kdramas I've EVER seen, but it's so bad it crosses the line right back into good again because it's so freaking funny how everyone manages to act the worst plot and the worst characters with the deepest sincerity. Everyone's gorgeous, which helps. It's funnier if you're a chronic Kdrama enjoyer to see all the worst tropes played out in the funniest ways with dead straight faces. They actually wrote it episode by episode based on viewer feedback and ran out of time at the end because the feedback was conflicting--and BOY does it show in unintentionally hilarious ways.

Bad and Crazy - I LOVE this drama, especially the first act. It's violent and dark, with comedy thrown in, and one of the most interesting and sensitive portrayals of a mental illness on screen that I've ever seen in both American and Korean TV. Yet another righteous-cop-vs-conglomerate plot, my beloved. I'll eat that storyline up each time though.

So that's movies and dramas off the top of my head--if I think of any other good ones, I'll let you know! Happy watching and omg, if any of those tickle your fancy I'd love to hear your thoughts! :D

*Ok, one runner up: From the director of "A Bittersweet Life", "A Tale of Two Sisters" is a psychological horror that is just. so. good. I'm not usually a horror person and I was hooked and think about it all the time, very excellent!

[seasidepierre]

Thank you! And it’s okay take your time,

I was thinking something with Pierre , like reader tripping on air and bruising her knees. Pierre laughing but taking care of the reader, putting hello kitty or marvel bandaids and kissing it better, then just taking care of her (wrapping her in a blanket and eating ice cream, something like that). Just pure fluff. I hope it’s okay, Thank you!

The gasp that left Pierre’s lips could have been tainted by so many different shades. It could have been a steamy one, because your mouth was leaving sweet kisses on his abdomen. It could have been because your fingertips were cold against his skin. It could have been because you slipped a little and ended up sideways on the couch, your head banging against his stomach. But it was because his hand had found your hip and it wasn’t the colour it was supposed to be.

“What the hell have you done?” Pierre muttered, dragging the hem of your shirt higher on your side so he could examine the disaster.

You hissed a little when his fingers lightly grazed the bruise and scrape on your skin, the whole ordeal still sore from the angle of the desk he had bought specifically for you in his Milan apartment, that same desk that you slammed into about four hours ago when you’d get up from an intense work session with the biggest craving of all times and had miscalculated the distances between the desk, the door, your chair and pretty much everything in between.

“I didn’t take the apex between the desk and the door,” You grimaced but still amused by the situation. “This isn’t funny, Babe, you’re purple!” “Call me Tinky Winky, then,” You rolled your eyes. “No, I’m not calling you after a Teletubbie, I’m getting you some ice, Jesus Christ,” Pierre grumbled while getting off the couch to go rummage his freezer. “I promise you, Pierre, I’m okay,” You sighed. “Come back to the couch, I was having fun,” You whined. “Get your cute butt to the kitchen so I can assess the damages you’ve done to my girl,” He called after you.

And maybe he should have known. After all, he’d known you for pretty much his entire life. He should have known that his favourite girl was struggling with motor skills and that she’d find a way to hurt herself over freaking nothing. After all, he watched you bump your head into numerous table corners while sitting back up after dropping something, he saw you unable to pass a door without hitting the frame, he saw you getting bumps on your head from kitchen cabinets, he watched your knees turning purple, then blue, then green, then yellow.. He even had to bring you to a pharmacy once after you walked straight into a stop sign pole and had started seeing stars.

So watching you tripping over the sneaker you had left lingering on the floor right by the kitchen door shouldn’t have been such a surprise, but still, another yell came out of his throat, as he saw you fall almost in slow motion.

“Oh my God, Baby, are you alright?” He immediately came to the ground to check on you. “Yeah, yeah, wasn’t looking where I was going,” You grumbled. “I really need you to start paying attention to your surroundings,” He breathed out, helping you get up. “Ouch! Wait, wait, wait, wait,” You hissed. “I think I really hurt my knee, Pierre,” You choked on your words. “Let me check,” He bent down to take a look. “You scraped it pretty badly,” He sighed. “I guess I’ll get the first aid kit from the bathroom, then, patch you up again.”

What he did though, was get you to sit on the kitchen island before he left, the ice pack now left unattended. You took it between your fingers, wincing at the coldness of it but softly applied it on your hip, grimacing and out of breath.

“Okay, let’s go, my queen,” He came back to the kitchen, a small box underneath the arm. “Let’s clean that up.”

With infinite patience and delicate fingers, he sprayed some disinfectant on the scrape and wiped it with a cotton pad, doing his absolute best not to apply pressure. With time, though, he had learned to buy the right disinfectant solution, the one that didn’t sting, because having to restrain you from wriggling in every direction was never ideal, nor fun. It literally broke his heart so many times already, having to watch you hiss and wince and grimace, or literally cry out of pain, that he never wanted to see that ever again.

“I got Hello Kitty or Marvel,” He sighed, brandishing two boxes of bandaids. “Why the fuck do you have Hello Kitty bandaids?” You scoffed. “Don’t ask too many questions, Babe.” “No but seriously?” “My nieces and nephews came to visit a while ago, I had to prepare myself.” “That’s cute,” You smiled. “I’ll take a Captain America one, then. Oh! Do you have Spider-Man?” You exclaimed. “Your love for those two is starting to worry me, you know that?” He lamented. “You’re just jealous because Chris Evans has bigger biceps than you,” You stuck your tongue out.

Without any more word, Pierre applied the Spider-Man bandaid on your knee, making sure it was sticking on your skin correctly. Then he bent down and did what he had done every time he had had to patch you up like that. He rubbed your knee with his warm palm and dropped a kiss on the bandaid, in a desperate attempt to make it better.

“Bisou magique,” He murmured. “I think my lips hurt too,” You whispered back. “Don’t push it, my love. You had me worried too much for today, already. Come on, back to the couch we go, we’re gonna cuddle and watch Captain America.” “I thought I loved him too much for you?” You teased. “I need to study so I can ask Pyry for a specific type of training,” He rolled his eyes up. “Can I have ice cream?” “Of course you can, you know I always have some for you. Which one?” “Do you still have the strawberry tub?” “I got a new one just for you,” He grabbed it from the freezer then managed to wrap you in his arms too so he could lift you up. “You know I can still walk, right?” “I’m not taking any chances. No more sores for tonight. I’m gonna wrap you in the fluffy blanket like a little burrito and tomorrow, I’ll buy bubble wrap.” “Did I tell you that you’re the most infuriating guy I’ve ever met?” “Don’t care.” “Ugh. You’re lucky you’re cute.” “Yeah, well, so are you.” “Yeah, well, I love you,” You mimicked him.

Pierre’s little scoff was enough to warm your heart back up.

You would never admit it, but in your fall, you were pretty sure you also smashed your elbow on the floor tiles.

That would be the problem of tomorrow Pierre, you guessed.

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[you-are-my-joy]

The Return of an Empress | 07

Title: The Return of an Empress

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Isekai, Angst, Romance, Fluff, Smut (Later on), Slow burn

Characters: Empress!Reader, Advisor!Jin, Advisor!Yoongi, General!Hoseok, Advisor!Namjoon, Assassin!Jimin, Knight!Taehyung, Knight!Jungkook

Word count: ~9k

Summary: After one fateful night, you find yourself transmigrated into your favorite novel as the Empress that shares the same name as you. As a bookworm, most would think you’d be happy, but how could you be happy when the Empress you’ve become is expected to be killed in three months. The only thing on your mind now is to learn how to survive.

Warning: May contain depictions of violence and mentions of abuse throughout the story.

Masterlist 

<< previous chapter  | ♡ |  next chapter >>

In the 380th imperial year, on June 9th, two days after the nobles were caught red-handed and thus apprehended, was the day of the largest massacre of high nobility in the history of the empire. 

At 8 am in the morning, a total of 18 of some of the most well-known and influential nobles of the empire were executed by the city plaza.

With tired steps, you trudge inside your bedroom, immediately falling onto the comfort of your bed. You let out an exasperated sigh, tossing your head back until it rests on a nearby pillow. Despite getting rid of the duke and the rest of the nobles, you can’t help but still feel a sense of unease and tension. Would the original empress make the same decision? You don’t know the answer, but what you do know, is that you’ll most likely be haunted by the cries and screams of those who lost their lives today for the rest of your life.

It’s one thing to actually read of the graphic murders and deaths that occurred in the novel, it’s a whole different story when you actually experience and see first hand how gruesome the public executions truly were. Back in your world, you’ve never witnessed anyone’s death before, as it was the 21st century, public executions were prohibited decades ago. But suddenly you had to endure an entire morning witnessing the horrifying deaths of 18 people as their heads detached from their body, a large pool of blood staining the once clean pavement. 

You weren’t keen on torturing people, so you were merciful in the sense that you chose to execute them through a beheading, with a fresh and sharpened axe to be exact. In this world, beheadings, although gruesome and bloody, were seen as the most ‘humane’ form of execution as the deed would be done in one swift motion, a painless execution to some extent. 

You remember hearing many of the nobles and commoners who attended the public executions express their disappointment at your choice, thinking you were being much too kind considering the heinous crime they committed. Despite their disappointment, they were slightly relieved over your choice, many were still skeptical over the empress’s supposed changed behavior, but seeing you wince and grimace at each beheading finally convinced them otherwise. 

News spread like wildfire around the empire about what had occurred at the party, news articles being published nearly a day later. The most popular topic of course being the Grand Duke himself drugging the empress, and so countless of nobles all around the empire scurried to watch the spectacle. Thus, the grand finale of the execution came when former Grand Duke, Lee Joong-Gu finally stepped forward. 

Many people had looked at him in disgust, throwing rotten fruits and vegetables his way and cursed out his name. The entire time, he wore a solemn expression as he kneels down without complaint unlike the rest of the criminals who wailed pathetically until their last breath. 

You remember that in the midst of it all, he had looked up at you, your eyes instantly locking with one another, and you swear from where you stood, you saw a hint of remorse and guilt in his face. Your mind reeling as he tearfully mouths ‘I’m sorry’ to you, but before you could even react any further, the axe gets raised in the air and in the next second is swung down with much force. His head rolling down the pavement as the cheers of the crowd rang out excitedly at the gruesome sight. 

However, the cheers seem to fade from your ears as all you can focus on is the dukes rolling head. And somehow it stops, facing in your direction, empty eyes that were once so full of life, ingraining themselves in your memory forever. You blink away the tears forming in your eyes, confused as to why your body was reacting like this. You flinch as you stare at his body slumped over, but your view gets blocked when Jungkook steps in front of you.

The entire morning, Jungkook and Taehyung have been right beside you, acting as your escorts as you had requested. Always attempting to block your view when they noticed your grim and disgusted expressions at each beheading. Jin and Namjoon were also present, but they stood a few meters away from you, ensuring that the executions ran as quickly and smoothly as possible. Hoseok was present as well, but as the general, he was in charge of security and surveying the city plaza, prioritizing your safety over everything else.

The only ones who hadn’t shown up were Yoongi and Jimin. Yoongi, you had expected, though you had a glimmer of hope that he would make an appearance, but Jimin? You thought he would come to greet you after the party, but you haven’t seen him since he left you by the ballroom doors. You were extremely worried, thinking something bad had happened to him, but Namjoon reassured you that he was fine as he had ran into him the other day. He further informs you that Jimin wasn’t feeling good, which explains his sudden absence. Though you remained unconvinced, you choose to give Jimin his needed space, thinking it would be better for him to come to you when he was ready.

When the executions were over you stood up from your seat, ready to leave the area in a hurry as the overwhelming stench of blood nearly made you puke on the spot. But suddenly you heard loud cheers as everyone directed their attention to you, “All Hail Empress Y/n!” many of them yelled out, grinning at you as they praised your actions. 

You hadn’t expected to be well received so quickly, since less than a week ago, some of these same people trembled in fear over your presence. You send them a charming smile to express your gratitude, but this only seemed to ignite something in them as they seemingly cheered your name even more.

Despite the cheering, all you wanted to do was go back to the palace and rest. So here you are, groaning as you lay flat on the spacious bed. You feel the bed dip slightly to your left, prompting you to open your eyes to see Jungkook looking down at you with a small smile. “How are you feeling?” he reaches his hand out to gently brush a strand of hair in front of your face. 

“Absolutely exhausted,” you let out a groan, closing your eyes once more. And you weren’t only talking about the past few days. It seemed that you were never truly able to catch a break the moment you arrived in this world. You can’t even imagine the amount of work the past empress had to endure. 

Taehyung, having found comfort in your couch situated in the middle of your grand bedroom, hums at that, “Mentally or physically exhausted?”

You scoff before letting out a yawn, “Both.” 

Jungkook nods as he moves his hand away from your face to lazily trace shapes on the palm of your hand, “I'm sorry to hear that your majesty,” he replies, sending you a pitiful look, as he notices traces of stress and exhaustion written on your face.

Still with your eyes closed, you rest for a moment, “It’s fine. This is my duty as the empress.”

Jungkook nods, “I understand, but before you’re an empress, you’re a human. You need to rest, your majesty,” he says, concern laced in his voice as he continues tracing odd shapes on your palm. 

Though after a while, you’ve come to the realization that rather than shapes, he was actually tracing your name on your skin.

You open your eyes to stare at Jungkook who was too distracted writing your name to pay attention to your gaze. You just stare when a sudden thought crosses your mind, “Hey Jungkook, can you try calling me by my name?”

Jungkook seems to freeze in his spot, his hand stopping right above yours as he stares at you with wide eyes, “Pardon?” this seems to gain Taehyung's attention as well when you see him from the corner of your eye snap his head instantly in your direction.

You shrug, sitting straight up now facing him. Both your faces nearly inches apart that Jungkook instantly blushes and shifts a bit further away from you to calm his racing heart, though you take that gesture as discomfort instead, “What’s wrong? You don’t want to?”

Jungkook stutters as he waves his arms in front of his face in an ‘X’ shape motion, “N-No, It’s not that I don't want to… but why are you suddenly asking that of me?” Both Jungkook and Taehyung stare at you in a mixture of confusion and interest since they haven’t addressed the empress by her name in nearly 3 years. Not after she had scolded the both of them until they complied to her wishes. 

“I figured we might as well go back to our old ways you know?” you suggest, but after taking in their shocked reactions you quickly add, “Of course if you’re uncomfortable with my request then I don’t want to force you to do anything. But I do give you permission to call me by my name when it’s just us.”

Jungkook turns his head to Taehyung as they look at each other wearily, as if doubting your words and thinking this was all just one big test. He hesitantly turns back to you, “Is that truly alright?” he asks while fidgeting nervously with his hand. 

“Of course it is,” you smile reassuringly, your eyes staring at him in anticipation, “will you?” You ask, you try to hide your excitement in order to not pressure him, but who were you kidding, it’s practically written on your face.

Jungkook’s lips curve upward slightly as he couldn’t deny your request, especially when your golden eyes shined brightly at him, “Yes…. Y/n…” though he had said it in a shy whisper, you still heard him loud and clear. You didn’t think hearing your name come out of his mouth would affect you so much but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling widely. It’s times like these that you’re extremely grateful for sharing the same name as the old empress. 

“Woah that’s not fair,” you turn your head to find Taehyung with his arms crossed, playfully glaring at you both, “why does he get special treatment and I don't?” 

You chuckle as Taehyung's pout reminds you of a child who got their toy taken away and wants it back. Your amusement grows even more as you sit back and watch Jungkook be equally as childish when he sticks his tongue out at the older knight. And Taehyung, the ever mature knight, mimics his actions in return. 

You grin at the older knight, wanting nothing more than to ruffle his hair, “this applies to you as well Taehyung.” 

Taehyung finally turns to you after seemingly having a contest with Jungkook on who can contort their face in a mocking way better, “thank you… Y/n,” he replies softly with a gentle smile now on his face. 

They’ll admit, addressing you by your name sounded strange coming out their mouth, but they couldn’t deny the nostalgic and warm feeling in their chest when they finally did. And your smile definitely brightened their day even more.

“Y/n.” you hear Jungkook call out softly, though he flinches when he gains your attention. 

You furrow your eyes in confusion at his odd reaction, “Yes?”

You notice his cheeks glow with a tint of red, “Sorry, it’s nothing. I just wanted to say your name in front of you,” the ending of his sentence becoming a soft whisper as he was embarrassed to have been caught by you. But he should’ve known better than to believe your ears wouldn’t catch him. 

You have to mentally slap yourself to stay calm and composed as to not squeal in delight to embarrass him further. So to spare him, you fight back a giggle as you beam back at him, “you’re more than welcome to call me by my name anytime you want Jungkook.” Gaining a wide smile from him in return.

“Y/n?” Taehyung suddenly calls out, causing you to face him now. Though he chuckles at your raised brow, “I’m not just calling out your name, I genuinely have a question.” You chuckle right back, nodding your head, gesturing to him to ask his question. “Are you still feeling sick?” You understand he wasn’t referring to earlier, rather he was talking about your symptoms from withdrawal. 

Thankfully after properly taking medication daily or as suggested by the royal physician, you’ve been experiencing a lot less symptoms as the days go by. Joy reminding and ensuring that you actually took them definitely helped with the process. 

You nod sending him a soft smile, “no, I’ve been feeling a lot better nowadays. Though, I’ll admit I kind of want to throw up. But I’m pretty sure the main perpetrator to that is the blood.” Despite having left the plaza awhile ago, you seemingly couldn’t get rid of the stench of blood in your nose. Even just the thought of it makes you involuntarily gag. 

Jungkook softly chuckles, “from being in countless battles, you’d think you’d get used to the sight of blood,” he jokes with a teasing glint in his eyes as he grew bold enough to hold your hand after tracing on it for so long.

You stare down at your joined hands, his large ones nearly covering yours completely. You feel him squeeze your hand lightly prompting you to look up at his mischievous grin as he caught you staring. You playfully roll your eyes, “it’s been awhile, alright, I forgot,” you grumble.

Though Taehyung hums at that as leans his head back on the soft cushions of the couch, “you seem to be using that excuse quite often,” he mutters, not looking you in the eye, but instead choosing to stare out your window.

At his statement, you gulp nervously. You immediately take note from the corner of your eyes the prying look of Jungkook as his hold on your hand seems to tighten. 

But before you could come up with yet another excuse, you hear a knock at your door. Someone was definitely looking out for you as you had no idea how to respond without you being even more suspicious than before. 

You sit up straight, briefly glancing at your knights who refuse to look you in the eye before calling out, “come in.” You quickly let go of Jungkook’s hand causing the boy to snap his head in your direction before his shoulders seemingly drop. Though he doesn’t say anything more as the doors to your bedroom open wide.

Soon enough, the double doors reveal Hoseok, Namjoon and Jin. They bow out of respect before briefly making eye contact with Jungkook and Taehyung, to which they send a curt nod, acknowledging each other’s presence.  

For some reason, you felt a shift in the air as the three men stepped into the room. As if they were... hostile? But that doesn’t make sense, you question. Shouldn't they be on good terms with each other? You thought, but you were so wrong when you could feel the tension around you. Something unspoken between the five males. 

You understand that you haven’t known these men for long, but even you could tell that there was a sudden shift in their relationship. You saw it in the ballroom and now your suspicions are confirmed when you observe their body language in front of you.

After many moments of silence, Namjoon finally turns his attention to you, “more of those journalists keep requesting for your time your majesty,” he reports, only now do you notice his tired eyes. He must’ve been dealing with those journalists since he got back, and from what you know, they’re almost as ruthless as those in high society. 

But before you could respond, you hear Taehyung let out an annoyed groan from where he sat, “They bombarded her all throughout the morning, can’t they give her a break?” he scowls when turning his head out the window as he caught a glimpse of those pesky reporters from the border of the palace walls. Their cameras steadily aimed at the palace, hoping to capture a lucky shot of the empress. 

“It’s alright, I can handle them,” you reply, having already mentally and physically prepared yourself for this since you knew this would be a hot topic in the empire. A topic that the reporters wouldn’t let go of until they were satisfied. But just as you were about to stand from the comfort of your bed, you feel a hand gently rest on your shoulder, prompting you to turn and find Jungkook staring at you in concern. 

“Y/n, you need to rest,” Jungkook says softly, “you truly did look sick early, maybe it's from withdrawals or maybe it's from the blood, who knows, but I think it’s best you rest for the day.” You knew it would be hard to go against Jungkook, especially when he had that determined look in his eyes. Though that wasn’t what everyone else was thinking as his statement piqued their interest. 

“Y/n?” Jin questions loudly. He had thought he was hearing things, but by the looks on Namjoons and Hoseok's faces, he indeed did hear correctly. Jungkook had addressed you by your name. 

The boy blushes, not having realized he had blurted out your name in front of them. But before he could explain himself, Taehyung beat him to it.

“Y/n gave us permission to call her by her name,” he boasts with his head held high as if he was bragging about some great achievement he got. Which in a way, it kind of was. 

Hoseok raises his brow as he turns to look at you now, “may I know why?”

You clear your throat, “well, when I got rid of the alcohol and drugs in my system, I wanted to make things right and go back to how they were before. So I gave them permission to address me by my name like old times,” you reply confidently, having already prepared an answer for this question long ago. 

Though after some time, Hoseok’s blank face shifts, “I see,” he replies with a smile, but you knew better than to trust that, you knew hidden in that expression was a man that still had doubts despite witnessing the downfall of the nobles before his own eyes. You had thought Namjoon would be the one you needed to be careful of, but it seems you were wrong in that sense as you become anxious at Hoseok’s judging stare. 

Jin clears his throat, an attempt to get rid of the growing tension in the room, “we also came to discuss plans regarding the property of the nobles as well as what's to come with their families and who would be the ones to take their positions,” he pauses before nodding his head in Hoseok’s direction, “we brought along Hoseok in case military services were needed.”

You nod, though you couldn’t help but wonder, “Where’s Yoongi?” 

Jin stills for a moment before tilting his head, visibly confused from your question, “why are you suddenly asking for him?”

Now it’s your turn to be confused as you furrow your eyebrows, “Because he’s also one of my advisors,” you answer as if it was obvious. 

As if sensing your confusion, Namjoon responds, “pardon our rudeness, your majesty. You just don’t normally call on him for these types of things.”

Now you’re even more confused than before, “I don’t?”

Namjoon nods his head in confirmation, “I believe it’s because he’s not from nobility, that it may hinder and influence his judgment on these types of cases,” he explains in the nicest way possible. 

Dumbfounded, you remain seated on your bed, “I see,” is all you could utter. You knew that out of the 8 of you, the only ones who came from nobility were Namjoon, Jin, and Hoseok. Their families were one of the few nobles who secretly opposed the former emperor, which made it easy for the main character to gain their support in the rebellion. There’s no doubt that Hoseok’s military family, Namjoon’s intelligence, and Jin’s abundant wealth, had an immense influence on the success of the rebellion. 

Of course that’s not to say that the others are any less important. Jungkook and Taehyung were among the best of the best in terms of strength and fighting, not to mention Jimin being an ace when it came to agility and swiftness. They had the skills to go against opponents 10 times their size, and yet somehow win. The three were known to be the best fighters in the empire, after the empress herself of course. Afterall, they learned everything they knew from her. 

Yoongi on the other hand, proved himself to be worthy to stand by the empress’s side as an advisor due to the fact that when it came to forming tactics, he always had the perfect plan to go along with every scenario. Much of the rebellion's success was derived from the various attack plans that Yoongi came up with.

He also knows how to handle her the best out of them all. He knows how to approach her when she gets mad or upset. And he is one of the few people who isn’t afraid to go against her if he needs to, only with her and the empire’s best intentions in his mind. 

But when it came to politics, Yoongi had a harder time due to the fact that he was just a village boy who didn’t receive the same amount of education as Namjoon or Jin. Granted neither did Y/n, having been born from the same village, but she was so determined to become the empress that she worked strenuously day in and day out in order to fit the role. Having Namjoon as her teacher definitely helped the process run smoothly. 

Sure Yoongi isn’t as book smart as Namjoon, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t smart at all. You know that despite things being said about him, his words and inputs at national council meetings have proven to be of great help to the empress and the empire in the past. 

And so without another word, you stand up from your bed with a newfound determination. 

Jungkook and Taehyung eye you in concern. “Y/n?” Jungkook asks, reaching out to hold your hand, causing you to stop in your tracks. 

“I’m going to go and personally find Yoongi. Regardless of our differences, he’s still my advisor, and his presence is just as important as every single one of you.” You feel Jungkook loosen his grip on you, allowing you to slip away from his grasp. 

“Shall we escort you there?” Jungkook asks tentatively, while Taehyung had already stood up, prepared to follow you on your command. 

But instead, you shake your head, “Considering what transpired last time, I don’t think it’d be wise to bring either one of you two along,” Jungkook rubs the back of his neck while Taehyung turns away as they’re both suddenly reminded of the way they had behaved towards Yoongi. Although they were opposed to the idea of you going alone, they couldn’t argue with your statement, since even they don’t know how they would react if they were in each other's presence again. 

“I’ll accompany her majesty,” Hoseok suddenly speaks up with a raised hand, resulting in everyone turning their heads in his direction, “I think it should only be fair after all,” he pouts, lowering his hand to cross both his arms across his chest. 

Namjoon raises a brow at his claim, “Fair?”

Hoseok nods as he accusingly points at every man in the room other than himself, “Every single one of you have spent more time with her than me, that's why I think it’s only fair if I escort her,” he declares with a puff of his chest. 

Taehyung scoffs at him, “Can you blame us? We’re her escorts, of course we’re going to spend more time with her,” he fights back a roll of his eyes due to Hoseok being of a higher rank than him. 

“Exactly, so I hope you don’t mind me stealing your ‘Y/n’ for the time being,” and before you could even utter a word, Hoseok strides towards you, reaching for your arm and practically begins dragging you out the room, “see you boys later!” 

Jin shakes his head disapprovingly as he watches Hoseok roughly pull you, “would you be more careful with her majesty!” 

Hoseok scoffs, “She’s not weak,” he responds as he turns around abruptly, your chest nearly colliding with his if it weren’t for his arms steadying you. 

“I agree, but she’s also not a ragdoll that you could just push around as you please,” Jin snaps back at him, eyes narrowing at the grip on your arm.

Namjoon nods his head at this, “Indeed. Be more gentle Hoseok,” he warns sternly as he shifts his body towards the both of you intimidatingly. 

And you don’t even need to turn around to know Jungkook and Taehyung were both shooting daggers at the general. 

Hoseok sighs and finally lets go of you with his arms raised above his head in defeat, “alright alright I get it. I’ll keep my hands to myself.” Though the men in the room only stare at him with unconvinced expressions as he smiles innocently right back.

You stifle a laugh at their reactions and begin to turn to leave, “we’ll be leaving then,” at this you turn to stare at each one of them, “while I’m gone. Behave.”

Taehyung scoffs, crossing his arms as he plops back down on your couch, “We’re not children Y/n.” But his pout tells you otherwise.

The corners of your lips quirk upward in amusement, “could’ve fooled me.”

He turns to you with an offended expression, mouth wide open and before he could give you a piece of his mind, you scurry out the door with Hoseok tailing right behind you. 

“Y/n!” You hear Taehyung’s voice yells out as he appears by the doorway in a matter of seconds. 

You turn around and almost laugh at his dumbfounded expression. Though, you nearly trip over your own two feet if it weren’t for Hoseok skillfully reaching out and steadying you. You quickly thank him before looking back towards your door to now find the rest of the men staring back at you. 

“We’ll set up a proper meeting tomorrow! See you boys then!” You call out before you’re reaching for Hoseok’s hand. He widens his eyes for a moment staring down at your joined hands before he feels you pull on him in the direction you were running to. 

You could still hear their protests coming from your bedroom as both you and Hoseok run away. But Hoseok can’t help but be more focused on your angelic laughter over everything else. 

“So what did the general want to talk to me about so badly that he wanted us to be alone?” you say finally after creating a fair enough distance from your bedroom.

From the corner of your eye, you see him smirk, “What makes her majesty think I had ulterior motives?” he asks innocently, his pace matching with yours as you both walk down the quiet halls.

You shake your head with a smile, “because you’re Hoseok,” you reply with a teasing glint in your eye. 

Hoseok lets out an offended noise as he dramatically brings his hand to his chest, “That hurts your majesty,” he pouts, “couldn’t I have just wanted to spend some time with you?”

You laugh at this, “Sure, but you and I both know that that’s not the case,” your mouth forming a smile, an attempt to show him you meant no harm. 

Hoseok finally lets the innocent facade fall as a smirk begins to form on his face, “Our empress sure has a sharp mind,” you hum in reply, prompting him to continue speaking,  “you’re right, I did want to talk to you.”

Though after some time walking in silence, he speaks up again, “But I had nothing in particular to talk to you about, I just wanted to see for myself whether you had truly changed or not,” he responds bluntly. 

“Your verdict?” you question with your arms behind your back, a carefree aura surrounding you. 

“Hard to tell for now,” he teases with a wink in your direction, “however, something tells me it won’t be long before I give you my answer your majesty.”

“Well let’s hope it’s an answer we both will like,” a wide optimistic grin now on your face.

Hoseok stares down at you, giving you a small smile in return, “Yes, let’s hope.” 

You two don’t speak for a while, though you can’t say it was awkward. There was a comfortable air between the two of you that you actually didn’t mind walking together in silence. You took this moment to look around the scenery, admiring the window view as you don’t really have much time to do that since Taehyung, Jungkook and even Jimin would often preoccupy your attention, not that you were complaining about their company, you rather enjoyed talking to them. But you can’t help but be grateful for this moment to yourself. So for the time being, you just look out the window, little did you know, Hoseok was staring right at you. 

Hoseok couldn’t help but admire the way the sunlight glows on your skin as if you were an ethereal being. Even the slight quirk of your lips mesmerizes him as he watches you bask in the sunlight. A picture perfect moment that he desperately tries to ingrain in his mind. 

“You know, you’re more than welcome to address me by my name as well Hoseok,” you suddenly speak out, turning your head causing the male to widen his eyes momentarily at your abrupt attention. 

But Hoseok’s eyes soften, giving you a small smile before turning his head straight in front of him yet again, “I’ll keep that in mind... thank you.” 

Neither of you speak again after that, just enjoying each other's company in silence. And after everything that you’ve been through, you didn’t realize that this was exactly what you needed. 

“Hey Yoongs”

The man hums, his eyes closed as he lays comfortably against the grass right beside Y/n.

“You’ll be with me forever right?” the young girl speaks up after some time.

At this, Yoongi opens his eyes as he stares at the far away look in her eyes, “Of course Y/n, where else would I go?” he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “why do you ask?”

She shrugs looking straight up at the passing clouds, “just making sure,” the wind softly breezing against her hair.

Yoongi nervously laughs as he turns away from her, “Sorry, but it’s gonna take a lot more for you to get rid of me,” Y/n chuckles at this causing the corners of his lips to curve upward at the sound. “Unless I got it all wrong. You’re not trying to run away from me once you become empress are you?” he questions with a teasing tone. Though he had a smile on his face, he couldn’t deny the feeling of anxiety at the possibility of her leaving him.

She scoffs before turning away, “Of course not, what would I do without you nagging me all the time, you’re practically my brother at this point.”

Yoongi feels a pang go across his heart as he faces away from her, “... right… you just see me as a brother huh,” he mumbles, more so to himself but she could still slightly hear him.

She tilts her head in his direction, “hm?”

Though he just shakes his head, “Nevermind,” now sporting a more cheerful expression as he nudges her shoulder playfully, “so suddenly I’m your brother huh?”

She nods her head, turning away from him, focusing her attention back to the sky, “Of course you are, what else would you be?” she genuinely asks.

Yoongi stills for a moment before responding with a long sigh, “Nothing,” he pauses, watching the clouds pass by both him and her as they lay on the grass in peace, “absolutely nothing.”

“Her majesty told me about it and left the job to me,” Jin responds in a tired voice as he lets out a sigh. If he had known accepting the empress’s orders would lead to this, he would’ve never done so in the first place. Because not only does he need to deal with a pile of work, but also a very pissed off Yoongi. 

“Why would she give you all the work and not me?” Yoongi asks, tone slightly offended and irritated. 

“I don’t know Yoongi, why don’t you just ask her yourself,” Jin replies tiredly as he massages his temple at his growing headache. It’s not that he wanted to get rid of Yoongi, but because he himself couldn’t provide him an answer to his question. He too couldn't understand why Y/n would give him all the work instead of him, frankly he wishes she would divide up the work evenly but alas, that doesn’t seem to be the case as every inch of his desk is nearly covered in piles of documents. 

Yoongi lets out a huff of air before standing abruptly. Jin stares at him and widens his eyes when he notices that he’s about to leave. Nervously he stands from his seat as well, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to ask her myself,” Yoongi replies as if it was the most obvious answer, his hand reaching for the door handle.

Jin gasps, “I wasn’t being serious!” he moves around his desk to grab hold of the advisor.

But Yoongi shakes his head, stepping back from his reach, “I know you weren’t, but you’re right. If I want change to happen, I need to go to her myself,” he watches concern wash over the older male before placing a hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry, I won’t lose my cool,” he says in an attempt to reassure him.

Though both Yoongi and Jin knew he was lying. He was just telling him what he wanted to hear. Jin wanted to stop him, but in the end, he lets it go since he knows that once Yoongi’s got his mind set on something, it was nearly impossible to get him out of it, ”fine, but I don’t want to hear about you getting sent to the dungeons again Yoongi.”

Though Yoongi only chuckles, “I won’t get angry, don’t stress about.”

And boy was he wrong, because it hasn’t even been 10 minutes that he walked into her office until hell broke loose. 

“Just let them handle it Yoongi, why are you so upset, I’ve given you plenty of work before,” she barks angrily.

“I’m upset, because you never give me the same amount of work as them!” He snaps back at her, tone equally as harsh. 

She nearly growls at his attitude, “Would you relax Yoongi, it’s just pieces of paper! If I had known you’d get so fucking irritated over it I would’ve sent the entire pile to you if that’s what you really wanted!”

That’s not what he wanted. He wanted her attention, her trust, he wanted to be the first person she sought out when she needed help.

He wanted her. 

“Y/n-” he gets interrupted when Y/n grabs a pile of documents and throws it in the air in front of him. He watches as the pieces of paper float down everywhere in the room, making it look as if a tornado wrecked havoc in the area. 

“Here! Just do it all for all I care, they’re just damn pieces of papers anyway,” Y/n growls tiredly. Yoongi could not have come at the worst time. Not only did she have to deal with a raging headache, but now her own advisor was yelling in her face far too early in the morning for it to be tolerable. 

She could feel her head ringing at the volume of his voice, but when she told him to leave as she wasn’t in the best mood to argue, he kept refusing stubbornly, insisting she listen to his complaints because apparently what he needed to say was so important to go against her orders. And so when she realized his important reasoning was because he was upset over his workload, her anger only rose from there. 

With her already sour mood, him snapping back at her surely didn’t help his case either.

“I have way too much shit to deal with right now, don’t add onto it Yoongi,” she spats loudly, the piles of paper covering nearly the entirety of the floor around them. 

His shoulder drops, finally coming to terms with everything as he stared into the once cheerful eyes narrow dangerously into tiny slits.

The girl before him, was never and will never be his. 

For the past few days, Yoongi had been actively avoiding not only you, but everyone else. No matter how hard they tried, neither Namjoon or Jin could reach out to him. It was almost as if Yoongi somehow knew just when and where everyone would be to successfully avoid them. 

In the beginning of the empresses reign, no one took him seriously because he wasn’t from noble descent like Namjoon and Jin. when they would attend national council meetings, no one spoke directly to him as if his previous status of a commoner was still intact. And so he had to put on this whole ruthless persona for people to show an ounce of respect for him. He had to exert more effort to prove to everyone that he was equally as worthy as the other two advisors. That he was capable of doing the same amount of work, even if he didn't receive the same strenuous education as them.

And because of the comparison between him and the other two advisors, insecurities were born and shattered his mind. 

So seeing you put your trust in Jin and Namjoon hurt him a lot more than he would like to admit. The fact that they both knew and yet you hadn’t brought it up with him once was like a shot to his heart. 

And yet throughout his time spent alone, Taehyung's voice echoes in his mind.

“When was the last time you ever treated her as one of her advisors? When have you ever truly cared for her majesty?”

He groans out of frustration at the entire situation. Because as much as he hated to admit it, he was right. When was the last time he treated her with respect. Even though the rest of the boys joined the rebellion with him, never once did they blatantly disrespect the empress the way he did. 

And with the current situation, he doesn’t even think he deserves his position of advisor anymore. Never in his life did he imagine that someone was drugging the empress. All this time, he’s been bitterly blaming the empress about the current condition of the empire when in reality, it wasn’t even her fault. He pushed her away when she needed him the most. When she was suffering he unknowingly made things worse. And because of that, he doesn’t even know if he has the courage to face the empress ever again. 

Yoongi freezes when he hears a tentative knock at his door. Slowly, he raises his head from his hands before responding in a loud tired voice, “who is it?” ready to curse out the person on the other side of the door.

“It’s me hyung.” 

Yoongi widens his eyes at the familiar voice that he can’t help but rise from his seat. He carefully walks over and finally opens the door to reveal Jimin’s figure standing before him. For a moment, the two men stand opposite of each other in silence. 

“I need to talk to you,” Jimin finally says. Yoongi nods and steps aside for him to enter, still in complete disbelief that he wanted to speak to him after everything that’s been said between the two in the past month.

As if reading his mind, Jimin turns to him with an uncertain smile, “You’re probably wondering why I'm here,” Yoongi only nods, unable to produce words at this point. Jimin stops at the center of his office before continuing, “I know we’re going through a rough patch right now, but at the end of the day, you’re still someone that I deeply care about. You’re my brother and I’m just worried about how you’re taking the situation,” he explains with a nervous expression. 

Yoongi’s eyes soften, of course they weren’t on good terms at the moment, but Jimin was right, at the end of the day, they’re brothers. He could never truly hate or get mad at him, or any of them for that matter unless they truly betrayed him. 

Jimin wasn’t certain this would be a good idea, unsure how the older male would react to his presence. And so when he hears Yoongi let out a chuckle, although not so enthusiastically, that alone causes Jimin to visibly relax.

Just then, Yoongi lets out a long sigh, “I’ll be honest, I feel like shit. But I know she’s probably going through it way harder than I am,” he finally replies as he rolls his neck.

Jimin nods, “I’m sure she is,” he mutters looking away.

Though Yoongi raises a brow, Jimim’s tone almost hinting at the fact that he doesn’t know about your feelings which was surprising to Yoongi since he knows how close he is to you. At that realization he furrowed his brows, “you haven’t spoken to her, have you?”

Jimin seems to stiffen at his claim, he contemplated lying but knew the older male would see right through him anyway, and so he just shakes his head, “no I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

Jimin lets out a low chuckle, “I wasn’t able to keep a promise with her,” he answers softly, running his fingers through his hair.

Now Yoongi was even more confused than before, he wanted to ask more questions but felt like now wouldn’t be the right time based on the downcasted look on the younger man's face. And so he only nods in return. Though Jimin’s lips quirk up, grateful that he doesn’t push the topic further.

Jimin leans against the back of his couch, crossing his arms, “I saw you that day,” he added, wanting to change the subject. “The day at the ball,” he clarifies when he saw the puzzled look on Yoongi’s face. 

“You attended the ball?”

Jimin shakes his head, “no I was watching from above, her majesty wanted me to be her ‘eyes in the sky’, or something like that,” he pauses before chuckling, “she’s been saying some strange things recently.”

Rather than laughing along with him, Yoongi can’t help but feel annoyed, “Of course you fucking knew about it, too,” he mutters furiously under his breath.

Jimin widens his eyes at his sudden harsh tone, “Pardon?” 

Yoongi scoffs, now stomping his way to his desk, “The empress told you of her plans,” Yoongi uttered with resentment, “everyone but me.” 

And as if the world wanted to continue mocking him, here you appear through the open door, with Hoseok right beside you. You freeze in your spot, when you realize Jimin, who was now staring at you like a deer in headlights, was also present in the room. Despite his surprise, he bows out of respect. Though you can’t say the same about Yoongi.

“What are you doing here,” Yoongi curses at himself, he didn’t mean to take his anger out on you. You just happened to arrive at a bad time. 

Though his cold icy tone doesn’t deter you in the slightest, “I came to inform you that we’ll be holding a meeting tomorrow,” you explain hesitantly, careful not to say the wrong thing to aggravate him even more.

He raises a brow in doubt, “you came here to personally tell me?”

You nod, “the rest of the men wanted to have a meeting regarding the situation, but I didn’t want to attend if you weren’t present.”

Yoongi scoffs, “I'm not some charity case.” Although, Yoongi can’t deny the warm feeling in his chest from what you said.

You stop, taken aback from his words, “Is that what you think you are?” you pause before continuing, “Why do you think you became one of the empress’s advisors?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at this, “Because you think of me as a brother,” he spats bitterly. 

“No, it’s because you’re one of the few people I trust most in this world, I know we had a bumpy road getting here, but you have to believe me when I say that I trust you,” you insist as you take a step closer into the room.

Though your statement seemed to have ignited a fire in him as he snaps his head to you with narrowed eyes, “If you trust me so much then why didn’t you let me know about this entire situation?!” You jump back at his tone, surprised by how angry he got.

Hoseok steps forward in an instant, “Hyung I had no idea about the drugs either,” he blurts out, trying to dissipate the tension in the room as he moves to stand in between you and Yoongi. 

Jimin nods in confirmation, shifting his body to stand protectively in front of you as well, “he’s right hyung, Hoseok also had no idea what was going on.”

“That may be true, but she still sought your help, no? She needed military strength, she needed someone to hide in the shadows and she went to you two,” he snaps at them. Hoseok shuts his mouth, unable to form words to counter his claim. 

Though it’s not like Yoongi was going to let anyone else speak, not until he was finished, “Where do I come into play? Jin hyung and Namjoon helped with the plan, Jimin looked out for you from above, Hoseok provided the military strength, Jungkook and Taehyung came as your escorts. But what about me?” At this point, Yoongi paces around the room frantically, you try to reach out to him but he jumps back as if your touch would burn him. 

“Why am I always in last place!” He yells at the top of his lungs, “Is it because I wasn’t born into high nobility like Jin hyung? Is it cause I’m not some fucking genius like Namjoon? Or as handsome as Jungkook and Taehyung. Or as confident as Jimin. Or as reliable as Hoseok?” He continues his rant when everyone is too stunned to react.

“Yoon-”

“Why am I never good enough for you!” He shouts, slamming his fist hard on his desk. The room becomes silenced in an instant. The only sounds coming from the broken advisor standing before you. 

“Am I not enough?” He sniffles, his voice cracking as he stumbles, grabbing hold of the corner of the table to stabilize himself. He bows his head low, an attempt to hide the tears forming in his eyes.

You turn to look at Jimin and Hoseok, giving them a solemn look as you nod your head in the direction of the door, wanting to speak to him privately. 

They seem to understand your gesture as they begin to silently make their way out of the room. Although Jimin hesitates for a moment standing by the doorway. He takes one last look at Yoongi and back to you, his expression unreadable before finally closing the door behind him. 

At the click of the door, you turn your head back to Yoongi, your eyes focused solely on him. Carefully, you take slow steps towards him, you don't know if he notices but if he did he didn’t take any further steps away from you. “Yoongi, you are more than enough for me, you have to believe me,” you urge as you stop a few feet away from him. Careful to not overwhelm and crowd around his space. 

His silence urges you to continue, “I just felt like you didn’t want anything to do with me so I gave you your space,” you explain softly, “But you’re still one of my advisors, I should’ve communicated with you better on the situation. I'm sorry.” 

You take a few experimental steps towards him, assessing his reaction carefully because if you saw any indication that he was uncomfortable by the distance, you would step away immediately. But he gave you none. Even when you were now standing in front of him, he didn’t make an effort to move away. Instead, he finally lifts his head, holding your stare as his tears now running down his face. 

You don’t know what got over you, but at the sight of his tears, you find yourself reaching your hand out until they cup his face gingerly. His breath hitches when your hand caresses his cheek, your fingers wiping away the seemingly never-ending tears.

“Yoongi, you’re more than enough for me,” you repeat softly as you stare into his eyes. Almost mesmerized as his glossy eyes shined back at you making it look as though you were staring at the night sky.

You lean your body forward until your arms wrap around his shoulders, bringing him into a tight hug, “I’ll always need you,” you say in a soft whisper. But no matter how quiet you were, he heard you loud and clear.

He sucks in a breath as a sob escapes his mouth. He doesn’t try to fight you, instead, he wraps his arms around your waist instantly, tightening his grip around your body.

But instead of calming down, his sobs grow louder at the feel of your body against his.

Concerned, you try to pull away but Yoongi only tightens his grip around you as he shakes his head. 

“Don’t,” he whimpers softly, clutching onto you tighter as if you would slip away forever, “please don’t leave me. Not yet,” he cries out. Your heart nearly shattering at the sound of his voice cracking. 

Your eyes soften as you once again relax in his arm, your hands rubbing his back reassuringly as he continues to cry, his tears falling onto the nape of your neck. “I won’t,” you soothe gently, “I won’t leave you Yoongi.”

He sniffles once more, “You’re really back?”

You don’t have it in you to respond with a straight answer. You just couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him like that, especially in his current state. Lying to his face knowing that the empress he knew was no longer the owner of this body. That you were a completely different person, but who in their right mind would believe you. 

So instead, you nod softly, reaching a hand to run through his hair. His tears stream down his face as he chokes back a cry at the feel of your nod. 

You smile bitterly, as you have to keep reminding yourself, the girl he loves isn’t you, it’s the empress. He’s not crying for you, he’s crying for her. 

You had seen this coming, but it still hurt a lot more than you had expected. The world for some reason just wouldn’t stop being cruel to you. 

A young man approaches the darkly lit room slowly, the only source of light being the fireplace that’s barely holding onto life as it seems as though it’s about to die out at any moment.

“Master, I’ve come with urgent news,” the boy announced, news so important he fidgets in his spot nervously as he anticipates his reaction. It’s silent in the room, the only sound coming from the crackling of the fire as the wood burns. 

There, sat in front of a large window was the boy’s master, he had not turned around to face him, instead, opting to stare up at the moon as it shines brightly down on him, “Speak,” he commands in a dominating voice.

The boy nods his head, “We received a report confirming the death of Grand Duke Lee Joong-gu as well as Sir Taehyung, Sir Jungkook, and Sir Jimin stepping down from the rebellion.”

The man hums, immensely intrigued by the sudden news, “and the others?”

The boy shakes his head, “there have been no reports being made of the others stepping down as of this moment master, though many speculate it’s just a matter of time at this point.”

The man bellows loudly at that, as he leans back comfortably in his chair, his eyes shining with mirth, “I told that damn duke not to get too greedy and look what happened. He got caught,” he scoffs as he turns fully around, hands crossed on his desk as he traces the letter he had received from the late grand duke a mere few weeks ago in a bored manner, “Seems what that fool said was of concern after all, her majesty has truly changed.”

The boy nods, “What do you suggest we do now?”

He turns back around, admiring the night sky, “tell my men to continue keeping an eye on her majesty. And report everything to me.”

The boy bows, “yes master,” he responds before turning away, ready to inform those of the new orders. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” the man whistles as he leans back on his chair, “so you truly did succeed in changing the story,” he chuckles and with a dangerous glint he stares up at the moon, “I can’t wait to meet you, new empress.”

A/N: Hey guys!! I’m so sorry for taking so long to upload this chapter, I had to focus on my final exams and all the assignments my professors piled on me at the end of the semester. So I tried to finish this chapter as fast as I could!

I hope you’re all happy with how things went in this chapter. Also sorry for all the drama, I just felt like it would be better for the reader and Yoongi to make up instead of making more chapters of them avoiding each other when they could just communicate about their feelings. 

Thank you everyone for supporting and reading my story! I also love receiving all your kind messages so thank you so much for that!

And as always, I hope you have a wonderful day!!

Tagslist: (those in bold, I’m not sure if it worked for you, I’m really sorry, I’m not sure how to fix it) (I also apologize if I forgot to add someone, just comment again and I promise to add you in the next one!!)

@reallysparklychaos, @unknownsageking, @casspirit0705, @fangirl125reader, @silscintilla, @serefara29, @chimtaesty-main, @xxqueenwxtchxx, @diamonddia-mond, @vishakhas-world, @purelyecstacy, @resticou, @woopetals, @magicsweetener, @splaterparty0-0, @daydreambrliever, @strangeobjectmaker, @luna-xial, @m0chilattae, @celaenaelentiyavox, @lindsayjoy444, @layzfeelit, @kimsaerom, @songtiddies, @untamedgrape, @sonnymii, @moonssuga​, @kassandravictoria, @galaxyflab, @blank-et-noir, @nynhope , @midnight1199, @yessii-i, @protontippens, @gguktings, @borahebangtan, @katkrusade, @handsupanddropthepotato, @missseoulite, @cellula-staminale, @red-bow-tie3, @whateveritis616, @ggukkieland, @sbroces, @nnessworls, @yoonieebear

[pies-writes-and-more]

jealous

Word Count: 3,130

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: some insecurity angst (only a little though) but all fluff otherwise!

A/N: thank you for the help and love you two give me @satan-ruler-of-hells​ @thisnoodlewritesao3​. Was having a shitty day so I queued this fic up to hopefully bring some smiles to people’s faces <3

Haikyuu Masterlist

Ushijima would never understand why people flocked to him the way they did during tournaments. No matter where the team went, there were people begging for answers to their invasive questions, people screaming in excitement as soon as they saw them, but why?

“You’re a big strong attractive dude, Ushi, I dunno what to tell ya. Not to mention, you’re the ace of a powerhouse school,” Tendō laughed when Ushijima asked him why. But it wasn’t like any of these girls knew him so why were they always asking for pictures?

But despite not really understanding, Ushijima often complied with the request for photos, standing there as stoic as ever, not even bothering to crack a smile. He didn’t want to make anyone upset and he felt like just going along with it might actually be easier than trying to run away.

But today, Tendō watched as one girl got prepared for a selfie, and surprised Ushijima with a kiss on the cheek for the photo. She squealed in excitement, thanking him even as she ran away. The two Shiratorizawa boys stood there in confusion, Tendō’s eyes looking around to make sure you weren’t around to experience that.

Ushijima stood there for a moment longer, his hand going up to his cheek and touching the place she had kissed him. Had that really just happened? How odd. Why would someone he had never even met before do something like that?

The thought left his mind as soon as it had entered, turning around to follow Tendō onto the court. But he noticed how his friend’s eyes seemed to glance around the hallway, as if looking for someone, then fall on him questioningly.

“What is it?” Ushijima asked, watching his friend’s eyes carefully. 

Tendō just laughed and shook his head, “I’m just glad poor Y/N didn’t have to watch that. Can’t say I’d envy her.”

Ushijima’s brow tensed a little hearing those words, trying to comprehend Tendō’s words and tone, “I don’t understand.”

“I mean, you’re constantly followed around by girls and you must see some of them all the time at every one of our tournaments. But you and Y/N haven’t had a lot of time to see each other now that practice is every day right? Plus... what girl wants to see her boyfriend get kissed by some random fangirl?” Tendō explained, holding his hands behind his head as they walked into the stadium courts. 

Ushijima frowned a bit, still not fully comprehending. You knew that he was busy with volleyball and you knew he loved you, didn’t you? So why did it matter what some insignificant people thought? Or what some random person did for that matter? Sure, it was an uncomfortable kiss and was awkward but would it matter? He didn’t even know the girl. 

Unbeknownst to either of them, the girl had posted the pic onto social media. Swarms of jealous students and gossip news reporters started to share the picture and repost it with the question “Is this Ushijima’s girlfriend?”

It didn’t take long for you to be tagged. One of your friend had sent the photo with a questioning keyboard smash, wondering if you had known.

You hadn’t.

You had been up in the stands when it all took place - you didn’t see Ushijima often before a game since he was usually stretching while you got there early to get good seats. You had been sitting up in the stands, talking to another friend of yours and some of the other players’ friends and family. But when you saw the picture, it was like everything around you started to move in slow motion.

Your heart felt like it was moving up your throat, your chest tightening. Who was this girl? Your fingers instantly clicked onto her profile, glancing at all of her public photos. She was gorgeous, thin, smart by the looks of it too. She even had a picture or her playing volleyball.

Something inside of you asked the question, “Would Ushijima be better off with someone like her?”

He wasn’t following her on social media, so he didn’t know who she was. It wasn’t uncommon for people to post their photos with Ushijima, but no fans had ever been so bold to kiss him for a picture before.

You couldn’t even remember the rest of the game. Your stomach was churning so much you thought you were going to be sick.

“Everything alright, Y/N?” Your friend asked when they realized you hadn’t cheered as loud as you normally did during the games. You quickly plastered on a smile, nodding quickly.

“I’ve got to head out early! Tell the boys I said congratulations!” You asked them as the game came to an end, your feet quickly moving out of the stadium before the crowds left.

Ushijima could’ve sworn you had been up in the stands and you always came to his games. So where were you? Why hadn’t you come down yet? He stood in the hallway, watching as crowds of people left. Loads of them congratulated him or tried to strike up a conversation with him. But not a single one of them was you.

“Oh Ushijima! Y/N asked me to say congratulations!” Someone smiled up at him giving a thumbs up. He recognized them, they were friends with you weren’t they? So you had been here...

Ushijima’s forehead creased ever so slightly, “Where is she?”

“She said she had to go for some reason! She didn’t look so good when she left to be honest. Maybe she was feeling sick?” Your friend shrugged and gave another wave before rushing off.

Ushijima glanced at his phone, finding no notifications from you. If you had been feeling sick, why wouldn’t you tell him?

“You alright there, Ushi?” Tendō called, slapping his shoulder playfully. “We won, it’s time to go! What’re you standing around for?” His head spun around, looking for the missing part of their trio. “Where’s Y/N? It’s almost time for our celebratory dinner!”

“She left,” was all he said with a frown.

Tendō sucked in some air nervously, glancing at his own phone and all the notifications he had gotten over the recent scandal photo. “Think it might have to do with this?” He asked, showing the post to his friend. “Didn’t you get tagged in it too? Seems like the whole team was.”

“I don’t have notifications for those apps,” Ushijima shrugged. “I get tagged in a lot of things and it gets annoying.”

Tendō pouted at this, realizing that’s why Ushijima never responded to the hilarious things he would send him.

Ushijima was still frowning, wondering why everyone seemed so concerned with his dating life. He scrolled through the notifications that Tendō had on his phone, news reporters questioning Ushijima’s relationship status, people from their school mentioning Y/N and curiously wondering if they had broken up. 

All of this over some random girl? He glanced at her post a little closer, noting the caption read, “Ushi” with a little heart emoji next to it. He hadn’t been happy at all that some girl had decided to plant a kiss on his cheek but he never had the chance to tell her that before she ran off. 

“Why would Y/N leave over that?” Ushijima finally spoke, glancing again at his own phone to see if maybe you had texted him in the last few minutes.

Tendō sighed and raised an eyebrow to him, “Ushijima, some people get jealous.”

Jealous. The word echoed in Ushijima’s mind as he tried to consider the possibility that you were jealous over someone whose name he didn’t even know. 

“Wouldn’t you be jealous if you saw someone posting a similar photo of Y/N?” Tendō asked with a tilt to his head, curiously watching his friend’s expression. 

Ushijima let the thought cross over his mind while the two of them walked to where the rest of the team had gathered. What if some dude had posted a picture of Y/N, kissed her cheek, and everyone had assumed they were together? He frowned and shook his head of the awful thought, now understanding that maybe jealousy was that pit in his stomach he was currently experiencing. 

Although Coach Washijo growled a little in response, Ushijima insisted that he would not be joining the team for a celebratory dinner. When Goshiki asked Tendō where Ushijima was going, he’d just shrug and smile saying, “He’s off to be a good boyfriend.”

It must’ve been strange, seeing this tall man running around town, looking confused and frustrated. Numerous people around him glanced back at him, watching him with questioning eyes as he passed but Ushijima didn’t even noticed. He needed to make sure that you were okay.

You weren’t really sure why you left so quickly after the game was over. You knew the longer you waited to have this conversation with Ushijima, the more awkward you’d feel and the more upset that he’d be that you hadn’t brought it up sooner.

It’s not like you were mad at him or anything - how could you be? It wasn’t like he was the one kissing her, or that he had known she was going to do that - you knew it wasn’t the latter since Ushijima wasn’t all that big on PDA anyways so there was no way he’d be okay with it with some random girl... you hoped at least.

So if you weren’t mad, why did you run? You frowned as you tried to think of a good excuse, trying to tear apart the reasons for your behaviour. But all you could really think of is how insecure you had felt, seeing that picture. That girl was everything and you were... well what even were you?

Ushijima didn’t know how to beat around the bush - he didn’t know anything but being blunt and honest. So he had to be with you for a reason right? If he wanted to break up with you, he would’ve... right?

You groaned quietly, stuffing your face into the pillow you were holding into your lap. You needed to text him - he was probably wondering why you didn’t stay till after the game. But he hadn’t even texted you... hadn’t called... maybe he hadn’t noticed? You glanced at your phone one more time, as if waiting to see a notification you had missed or a text that you hadn’t heard the alert for.

Maybe you should just call him. Maybe if he hadn’t noticed, you both could just go out for food or have a nice night in and you could forget you ever saw that photo. You nodded slightly at your plan, moving your finger to call him. 

But a knock on your door distracted you. You looked up at the sound, glancing between that and your phone.

You dragged yourself out of bed, starting to type out a very nonchalant casual text to Ushijima as you made your way downstairs. Though it was very obvious once you opened the door that the text wasn’t needed.

“Y/N.”

What was it about the way he said your name that sent chills down your spine? 

You bit down on your lip nervously, realizing that all that time spent coming up with excuses was useless because here he was right in front of you, panting slightly, and you were drawing a blank.

“H-Hi, Ushijima,” you hesitated slightly, both standing there awkwardly until he nodded towards the inside of your house.

“Can I come in?” He asked softly, his voice more gentle than usual even with his heavy breathing. 

You nodded slowly and let him in, watching as he tucked his shoes away and stood in front of you as if waiting for you to say something.

“So... congratulations on your win,” you offered after moments of silence.

His eyes just watched you, as if checking to make sure you were okay, “Your friend said you had to leave. They also mentioned you weren’t feeling well. Is that why you didn’t stay?”

You stuttered out some sort of syllables that were no where near to being words as your boyfriend placed his hand on your forehead, cupping your cheeks in his other hand, “You don’t feel feverish but you are a bit warm,” he stated quietly. “Would you like me to make you some soup?”

You shook your head quickly, stepping back from him slightly, “I’m okay, Ushijima, promise. My... stomach just didn’t feel right.”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he watched you, “Your stomach?”

You nodded, staring at your feet. You should just be honest, shouldn’t you? Ushijima was always honest with you. But what if you were honest and he came to the same realization - that he could do better than you?

“So this has nothing to do with that Instagram post?” Ushijima’s voice was stiffer this time around, almost... awkward? He shifted on his feet, trying to get you to look at him but when you wouldn’t, he just gently put his fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze to his. “Please talk to me, darling.”

It was as if you had been hiding tears this whole time and didn’t even realize it. But the softness in his voice and his eyes, the way he touched you, just made your eyes start to tear up, “It’s stupid,” you admitted after a moment and Ushijima’s thumb wiped away a tear that escaped you. “I know you don’t even know her.”

He nodded in response, stepping a bit closer to you now, “I didn’t know she was going to do that,” he told you, confirming what you had already assumed. “But I’m sorry.”

You gave a little laughing, shaking your head, “Ushijima, you have nothing to be sorry for. I know you take pictures with your fans sometimes.”

“No, I’m sorry because I didn’t understand why you would be upset at it at first. But Tendō helped me understand. Please don’t go taking photos like that with other men,” Ushijima asked you and made you laugh again. “I... I wouldn’t like it.” He admitted shyly, his lips turning to a small smile as he watched you laugh.

“She’s rather pretty though,” you mumbled softly, finally wiping the rest of your tears that were building in your eyes. “I just... You two look really good together.”

Ushijima seemed to think about this, lifting his eyes up to the ceiling as he considered your words, “She’s not ugly.” He stated simply, finally looking back down at you. “But I have no feelings towards her.”

“Feelings can be developed,” you suggested, hating every word that was coming from your mouth. Why were you arguing for him to leave you? Why were you trying to convince him?

Ushijima gave a chuckle this time, patting your head softly, “Why would I want to develop feelings for anyone else when I have so many feelings for you? You have nothing to be jealous over, love.”

Ushijima always said things with such honesty and you knew he would never say anything he didn’t mean... but didn’t he know there were girls out there much better than you?

“You are the one I want to be with. Not anyone else. All those girls I see at my games all look the same. But when I look at you,” Ushijima let his thumb graze over your lips gently, a small smirk on his lips, “I have to remind myself to stop looking at you. I have to tell myself that I’m staring. Before we started dating, Tendō told me you might think I was creepy because I just couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

You giggled, trying to not focus on the tingles this man’s finger left on your lips, “Oh ya?”

Ushijima just nodded firmly and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Y/N. I couldn’t care less about anyone else. Do you trust me?”

The question hung in the air for a moment - you knew you did but how long would it be before he realized just how incredible he was?

“Yeah,” you whispered, trying to shove down all of your anxieties. 

He watched you and even though you were saying yes, there was something about the way you were standing that didn’t match with your words. Ushijima wasn’t the best at understanding people, but he knew you. “Everyone of those fans would stop coming up to me if I wasn’t as good at volleyball. One day, when I can’t play as well anymore, or if I ever get injured, all those fans will disappear. But the only one I’d still want with me is you. That’s how I know I love you.”

And even if it was just for a moment, all your anxieties stopped. You smiled to yourself and threw your arms around him into a tight hug. Ushijima’s massive arms wrapped around you as he pressed more kisses to your forehead and cheeks. “Next time, please talk to me honestly,” he whispered to you.

You nodded into his shoulder, closing your eyes tightly and murmuring back, “I love you too.”

The two of you would end up in your room, curled up with some show playing in the background before you’d sit up in realization, blinking at him in surprise, “Hang on, didn’t the team go for your celebration dinner?”

Ushijima shrugged and nodded, glancing at the time displayed on his phone screen, “Yeah they should be done soon. I imagine Tendō will text me to make sure you’re okay after.”

Your forehead creased in worry, staring at him, “Did... Did they drop you off on the way or something?”

Ushijima’s eyes shared your level of confusion, tilting his head as he tried to think about your question, “Why would they?”

“Ushijima, how the hell did you get here?” You asked with wide eyes, remembering how out of breath he was and wanting to hear the words from his lips.

“I ran,” he stated simply as if it was such a casual thing to do. “Is that important to know?”

“Babe, your tournament was across the city,” you gaped, mouth open slightly as your eyes widened even further. “That must’ve been such a long run, especially after a game!”

Ushijima thought for a moment, thinking about how the team had to take a bus to the games today, and how Y/N had to take transit. His mind tried to calculate the distance, though it wasn’t likely he’d get an answer. He just shrugged, thinking nothing of it as he settled back into your bed, “I could’ve gone farther,” was all he said as he pulled you in for some more cuddles, “as long as it was for you.”

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[yourtamaki]

the broken melody of us

matsukawa x f!reader

word count: 4k

request: mattsun hurt/comfort + neglect?

warnings: hurt/comfort, neglect, body worship, praise kink, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming

it was a song and dance at this point. a well rehearsed play with a blinding spotlight on the exhausted actors onstage. both of you go through the motions, no life behind the words you’ve spoken so many times they held no meaning anymore. you don’t know why you keep up the charade. you never expect a different result yet still you pick up the phone everyday and call your boyfriend. 

“you think you’ll be home in time for dinner?” 

sometimes you get a different, automated message. “maybe. might have to stay late,” or “can’t, i’ve gotta finish something up,” or your least favourite. a simple, clipped, “no.” 

“don’t stay out too late.” you should cut this part from the script, he never listens. 

“i’ll try.” 

“i love you.” this line is always to be spoken quietly, followed by holding your breath while you wait for his response. it’s the only reason you make these calls. this is your only chance to hear him say it and pretend he means it as much as he once did.

“love you too.” the line goes dead, the lights dim and he’s gone. you’re alone on an empty stage staring out at a bored audience. bored of the foolish protagonist who keeps them locked in the theatre, playing the same ending over and over and expecting something to give, to change. they watch on, silent and judging while you barter away what little dignity you have left. 

let them watch. 

the rejection doesn’t sting as badly as it used to. you’ve learned to bear it, swallow down the hurt that sits like a stone in your gut and go about your day, filling it with any meaningless errand that would stop your mind from wandering back to him. 

mattsun was subtle, you could give him that much. the way he slowly pulled away from your arms until you could hardly remember how he felt beneath your palms. the realization that you don’t really know your boyfriend anymore was slow to hit you but it knocked the air out of your lungs when it did. it crashed down on you when you woke in the middle of the night and turned to stare at his back gently rising and falling with every breath. his hair is longer then you remember and you don’t know why the thought has a lump forming in your throat. you focus instead on the broad expanse of his back. he’s tense, even in sleep, shoulders rigid and you’re sure if you could see his face, his brows would be furrowed. subtle changes that are enough for you to realize you’ve been shut out of his life.

you used to know him. when you were university kids who thought the future would never catch up to them and spent countless days in each other’s company. it wasn’t so much you knew him, it felt like you were him. and he was you. less attached to the hip and more intertwined with one another. you two were of one mind, to the point where you knew what the other needed before they’d even say it. 

your mattsun who was always just a text away. 

your mattsun who would indulge your late night drives, who would look at you with a permanent crooked smile on his face and love in his eyes. 

“you think we’ll always be like this?” you said one night, straddling him in panties and a baggy hoodie in the backseat and lazily kissing beneath the stars. and because he was yours and understood every little anxious thought that crossed your mind, he didn’t question why you were asking, didn’t make you explain what you meant, didn’t try to make a half assed joke about it. 

his hands trailed up your sides as he contemplated his answer, sending shivers up your spine. “probably not. things always change. we’ll change with them.” 

“what if things get worse?” 

“they might. but what if they get better? just cause it’s different doesn’t mean it's scary, angel.” 

“i know. but i hate thinking about it cause things are so good right now. i want it to last forever.” 

“we got time. let’s make the most of it, yeah?” he gripped your hips, slowly grinding you against his growing bulge and pulling you back into a kiss, sighing as your lips slotted together. you took control of the pace and grinned against him when a groan spilled into your mouth. 

“is that your way of saying we should hurry up and fuck?” 

“it’s working, isn’t it?” before you could pull your sweater up over your head, he cupped your face and brought your forehead to his, sincerity shining through his dark eyes. “i’ll always love you. that’ll never change. got it?”

“got it.” you managed to push the words out despite the lump that formed in your throat. he kept his eyes locked on yours as he slid your panties to the side and sank inside you, the familiar stretch a welcome one. 

it was nothing special, one night of many spent panting into each other’s mouths with an unspoken promise still hanging from your lips. but it was a memory you circled back to often, so often you could hear the echo of his vow ring through your head. 

your fears came to pass not long after that. life caught up and tore him from you, leaving you a shattered mess in the aftermath. you tried to fit jagged pieces of yourself back together in an attempt to remake the person you used to be but what stared back at you only left you keenly aware of the empty space he used to reside. 

these days, you like going to the roof of your apartment and letting the wind blow through those countless gaps in your soul. you feel whole for a short while as it whistles through you, the air filled with the broken melody of you, of the relationship that slips past your grasp more everyday. it’s shrill and ear piercing and leaves goosebumps littered on your skin. 

you can’t stop listening to it. 

it’s where you were now, staring out as the sun dipped below the horizon and listening to the haunting sound that’s been your only company in recent memory. later, you’ll go home and crawl into bed desperate for any warmth and no time to miss the heat of a body next to yours. your phone lights up bright in contrast to the darkening sky and it takes you a few moments of staring blankly at the screen for it to sink in that mattsun is trying to call you. 

this isn’t part of the script. 

you don’t know your lines. 

and yet you find yourself answering anyway, hitting the green button before the call drops and you raise your phone to your ear silently. 

“are you okay?” his voice comes out rushed and strung together almost before your phone is pressed to your ear. 

“why’re you asking?” 

“remember that time you failed that essay? i think it was third year and you hid in your room all day and wouldn’t answer the phone?” you did remember. how you couldn’t bear to face the world that day with the crushing weight of failure hanging over you and how shocked you were to see mattsun standing at the front door. “did i ever tell you why i checked up on you?” 

“no.” 

“the whole day i felt, in my gut, like i needed to see you. i can’t describe it, it was like a stab that just dug deeper until i went to your place. would you believe me if i said i have that feeling right now?” 

“i- i would.” you say quietly, wondering if he could even hear you over the roar of the wind. 

“are you okay?” he repeats. there’s a weight behind his words that has tears springing to your eyes. 

“no, issei ‘m not.” 

“i’m almost home, i’m parking right now. i’ll be up in a few minutes, okay? wait for me, angel.” 

you were always waiting for him, weren’t you? what's a couple more minutes? you hang up and try in vain push down the wave of anxiousness that hits you. it’s just mattsun, you try to remind yourself. even if it’s been awhile since you’ve really felt like a part of his life, he’s still the person you fell in love with. right?

even if the issei from the past would never have made you feel so alone. the issei that was free from the hardships of real life, of 9-5s and bills due and rent to pay. you miss that issei, mourn for him on empty rooftops everyday. maybe he’s still alive somewhere within this new issei but it’s not like you would know. 

you head off the roof, shivering slightly as you make your way home. the days were only getting colder, you should’ve known not to stay out for so long. you were trying to get your shaky hands to cooperate and unlock the door when you hear the elevator dings open and your name being called out. 

“you weren’t home?” he asks, gently prying your keys from your grasp and opening the door for you both. as soon as he locks it behind you, his hands are covering yours once more. “baby you’re freezing.” 

words. where were your words? you couldn’t call up any as he brought your joined hands to his mouth, blowing hot air on them and rubbing them between his to warm them up. this is the closest you’ve been to him in who knows how long and you couldn’t summon up a single sentence. it’s not your fault. his attention has always stunned you into silence. 

he thought you were painfully shy the first time you met and though that was half true, you mostly found yourself silently panicking about the handsome man that suddenly sat beside you. the professor had paired the class off to discuss the readings for that lecture and your interest had only come to life when you saw the dark haired man make his way to you. 

“i’m gonna be honest.” he said as he plopped down beside you and showed you the blank document open on his laptop. “i have no idea what we’re supposed to be doing right now. do you?” 

it was his eyes, you decided much later, hugging your pillow and staring at the text you just received from a new number. you came alive under his gaze like you could finally catch your breath, everything dull until his eyes landed on you. you don’t believe in love at first sight, this was something different. it was the dust of collapsing stars finding each other once more. it was strings of fate being braided together. it was more profound, more important than love and it all happened in a moment. 

you nodded in response to his earlier question though it was clear neither of you were paying any attention to what was going on in class, too caught up in the small bubble that surrounded you and drowned out the rest of the world. 

“matsukawa. i’m- my name’s matsukawa.” you must’ve given your name in return judging by the smile he gave you in return. “so what’re we doing, partner?”

this time, you forced a proper response, intensely aware of how you held yourself in a way you’ve never been before. “yeah, she just wants us to talk about today’s reading.” 

matsukawa watched you pull up your notes, resting his head in his hand while you began explaining the general concepts. you paused when you noticed he was still looking at you and not at the notes you had angled towards him. 

“am i explaining it okay?” 

“we’re a month into the semester, how have i not noticed you before?” 

“guess you don’t notice something you’re not looking for.” 

just then the professor grabbed everyone’s attention, the student’s quietly migrating back to their seats but matsukawa stayed where he was. instead, you could just hear him speak under his breath, more to himself then to you but you still managed to pick it up, your face going hot as it echoed in your head. “trust me, i’m looking now.” 

the memory leaves you more vulnerable than you expected, soft in his arms as the numbness finally fades and the shaking stops.

“where were you?” he says.

“the roof.” his brows furrow, lips pulled down in a frown. it’s strange feeling yourself falling back into reading him so easily, not needing him to ask to know he wanted you to explain why. “i like going up there. this place is too quiet with just me in it.” 

the longer you watch him, the more you pick up from his body language. the confusion then understanding that flits across his face, the underlying care you’re so familiar with as he smooths his thumb over the back of your hand. but more than anything you start to see his guilt. his muscles are rigid with it, it swims in his eyes that never quite seem to meet yours. 

“i’ve fucked up, haven't i?” he finally says when he realizes you won’t be the one to breach the subject. 

“issei…”

“no, i have. things have been so endless, i feel like i’m half awake and i’ve hurt you because of it.” 

you squeeze his hands, trying to reassure him. “just talk to me. please.” 

“i hate it. work is nonstop, everyday is the same shit over and over. it’s just a wave that keeps knocking me down and i can barely get my footing before it pushes me down again. and every day i think about quitting just to get ready the next morning. 

“if i was alone, if… if i didn’t have you i would’ve quit so long ago but i want to give you the life you deserve and i can’t do that if i’m broke. and it all might be for nothing cause i might’ve lost you already.” 

the confession ends with mattsun clearing his throat, blinking fast and concentrating solely on your laced hands. you can’t seem to catch your breath, struggling under the weight he had carried silently until now as he finally shares the burden with you. 

“you haven’t lost me, issei. look at me.” you wait until his eyes meet yours before dropping your voice to a whisper. “you haven’t lost me.”

“i don’t deserve you.” 

“it’s not about deserving, i chose you. i chose to love you, i chose to stay when things got bad. yeah, you hurt me.” it’s impossible to miss the full body flinch at your words, “and i’m not ready to forgive you just yet. but that doesn’t mean i’m giving up on us. i don’t want you working yourself to death for me. i don’t care where we live or how much money you spend on me. i don’t need all of that, i just need you. got it?” 

“got it.” you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows down whatever feeling overcomes him, “i’m sorry.”

“i know.”

“tell me what you need, please. i need- i need to make this right.” 

you answer by leaning forward and mattsun meets you halfway. the kiss is soft in contrast to the way you bundle the front of his shirt in your fists, afraid the moment might end before it’s even begun but mattsun takes his time cherishing you. there’s regret and gratitude and love that dances across your tongue and the taste has pressure building behind your eyes. 

it isn’t enough. you need him closer, need him to line the cracks of your soul with his touch. you pull just far back enough to break the kiss and mumble against his lips, “more, ‘sei please. i’m so cold.” 

“anything you want, pretty baby. let me make you feel good, yeah?” 

his lips crash back down on yours with renewed eagerness. there’s a desperation that wasn’t there a moment ago fuelling you both and urging you to stumble blind into the bedroom, barely letting your mouths detach as you fumble and undress each other. 

it’s not until you’re naked before him that your head clears a bit and shyness comes creeping in. he cups your face as though he could sense you curling into yourself and simply says, “beautiful.” 

the utter conviction in his voice is enough to dispel any insecurities before they have a chance to latch on and you turn your head to kiss the center of his palm, silently telling him you were all right. together you land in a tangled heap in bed, his half hard cock resting on your thigh. mattsun kisses his way down your neck, licking and sucking at every sensitive spot he had mapped out over the years. 

“issei…” you say, impatience tinging your voice as you feel your core throb with need. 

“i’ll get you there, angel, you know i will. let me take my time, i missed you.” 

true to his word, he began kissing every inch of skin he could reach. your tits, your stomach, your thighs all the way down to your ankles, he made sure to shower with affection. it’s nearly overwhelming. you knew you were starved for his attention but it feels like something breaks loose inside you the longer his mouth trails over your body, whispering declarations into your skin that left you tingling in his wake. by the time his fingers dip between your legs, your thighs are sticky with arousal, clit thrumming and begging to be touched. 

“look at my pretty baby’s pussy. all wet just for me?” 

“mhmm ‘s all for you, issei.” 

he hums, swirling his middle finger around your entrance and pressing the thick digit inside with ease. it’s only a few pumps later he adds another, stretching out your gummy walls. his other hand drifts over your mound, his thumb finally giving your clit some attention as his fingers graze over a spot inside you that has your hips rising off the bed. 

“stay still. you want to be my good girl, right?” the quiet authority that radiates from mattsun has you clenching around him, doing your best to do as he asks and keep your legs spread for him. “there you go. you’re taking me so well, baby. you’re close, aren’t you? i can feel it” 

mattsun loves showing off how well he knew your body, how it never took long for you to crumble beneath him. a few more idle circles with the pad of his thumb and your orgasm washes over you, rising gently and leaving you relaxed in its wake. 

that state didn’t last long as he replaces his thumb with his mouth, sucking at your clit that twitches against his tongue, still sensitive from your high. “issei! w-wait please give me a sec-” 

his glare is enough to cut through your babbling, his fingers never slowing in their strokes against that sweet spot. you let out a low moan as he adds yet another finger, the stretch just shy of uncomfortable but it’s quick to fade into pleasure once again. the flame in your gut is far more intense this time and you can’t stop the whimpers he pulls from you. you thread your fingers through his dark curls, tugging on them and pulling him deeper into your folds.

“that’s it, princess. cum on my tongue and i’ll stuff you full, i promise. you can do it, c’mon baby.” 

the encouragement has the coil in your gut tightening once more and the lewd sounds of mattsun lapping up every drop that escapes you is enough to snap it. when the blood stops ringing in your ears, you realize he’s shifted your positions. he’s sat cross-legged on the bed with you pulled into his lap, legs locked around his waist. his cock is pinned between your stomachs, smearing precum on your skin and your mouth waters as you catch sight of the blushing tip. 

he whispers your name to grab your attention, naked devotion plain on his face when you gaze up at him. “i love you.” 

this. this was your breaking point. the words you longed to hear every time you picked up the phone for those dreaded calls. your vision blurs with tears that well up and spill down your cheeks before you could blink them away. “you do?” 

“i do, baby, with everything i’ve got. i-“ he falters for a moments, visibly steeling himself for what he wanted to say. “i want to spend the rest of my life with you. there’s not a future i can picture that doesn’t include you. you’re it for me.” 

“i want that too ‘sei.” you hiccup, more tears trickle out faster than you can wipe them clear. 

you feel his whole body relax, hands rubbing at your sides to soothe you. “don’t cry, angel. wait till i’m inside you at least.” 

“shut up.” your laugh comes out watery but it feels good to smile. “how do you go from sweet to nasty so fast?” 

“just wanted to see you smile.” you try and fail to suppress another grin that only widens when mattsun peppers your cheeks with loud kisses. “so pretty and all mine.”

“all yours.” you repeat, grinding your soaked folds along the underside of his cock. “and you’re mine, right?” 

“that’s right, princess. go on, take what’s yours.” 

sinking down on mattsun feels like coming home, the empty ache finally gone as he fills you and you both moan when he bottoms out. there’s no way for you to bounce in this position but you find that you don’t mind. you feel closer to him like this, what little space there is between you vibrating with how vulnerable you both were. 

it’s relaxing, slowly rolling your hips against each other, not building towards anything and indulging in the other’s touch. your hands roam across his broad back, sucking dark marks into his neck while he grabs at your ass, kneading and groping so possessively you clench around him. 

“fuck.” he groans next to your ear. “keeping squeezing me with that princess cunt, you feel so fucking good. just like that, good girl.” 

“issei…” you whimper, pressure gradually building in your gut as your grinding gets sloppy and legs grow weak. 

“what is it, baby? use your words.” 

“want more, ‘sei i want your cum.” 

“yeah? want me to fill up this greedy pussy and keep you warm with my cum?” he leans forward, keeping you cradled in his arms as your back hits the mattress, your legs still crossed around his waist keeping him as close to you as possible. 

you nod, half delirious with need and mattsun begins thrusting in earnest. his cock is so thick he nudges against every sensitive spot along your walls, his tip battering just below your cervix and hitting so deep you swear you can feel it in your throat. his hands pry yours open from where you had been gripping the sheets and laces his fingers with yours. a swell of love rises in you and has you gasping for air as he fucks you into the mattress. you can’t even hear your own moans over the squelch as you grow wetter and wetter and the smack of his heavy balls against your ass.

your orgasm takes both of you by surprise, ripping through you so violently you’re left a shaking mess. mattsun’s hips stutter, bucking wildly into you as he nears his own high and you stare in awe as he reaches it. it’s a sight you’ll never get enough of, how beautiful he looks as he spills endlessly inside you, mindlessly grinding it deeper with his softening cock. 

“you okay, angel?” he asks, pulling you in for a sweet, lingering kiss. 

“mhmm. can we stay like this?” you weren’t ready to put any space between you, not so soon after reconnecting.

“‘course we can.” he settles over you, knowing exactly what you need. his weight a reassurance that grounds you in a way words never could. it’s a conversation in its own right, one that could only pass between two people who knew each other as well as you knew each other. in the quiet afterglow he tells you that he’s here with you. that you were going to work on being okay again. that he wouldn’t let you feel that lonely ever again. and you believe him with every fibre of your being. 

dedicated to: @honeykeigo @ohno-otome @keigobaby @saintdabi @toshidou @sawam0chi

[sailorhyunjinz]

𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖘 𝐈

© 2021 SailorHyunjinz ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

Pairing; Bartender!Changbin x Fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warning ; ANGST!! SMUT!! skz side characters, semi-slow burn, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers, depiction of mental disorders, consumption of alcohol, under the influence, self hatred, complicated family relationships, depersonalisation/derealisation, depression, alternative universe, implications of su-cide, semi su-cide attempt, su-cidal!reader, mentions of bl-od and injury, mentions of k-dnapping and murder, alcoholism, mentions of selfh-rm, mentions of knifes, gaslighting, smoking, mentions of weapons, mentions of pregnancies, a bunch of crying, fainting, toxic masculinity. 

𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞 ; piv, protected sex (use of condom), missionary, dry humping, nicknames, sex in semi-public place, fingering, corruption kink if you squint, orgasm (m/f), cum,,,, other then that it’s kinda vanilla. 

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ; 14.3 k 

O N E ｜ T W O 

From one survivor to another; cheers you guys. 

                         ⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ Playlist ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

[FEEL SOMETHING DIFFERENT - Bea Miller, Aminè]

[Multi-Love - Unknown Mortal Orchestra]

[Beach Baby - Bon Iver]

[High Enough - K.Flay]

[Dope Lovers - DPR IAN]

[Make Out in My Car ; Sufjan Stevens Version - Sufjan Stevens]

[I Feel it Coming ; The weekend, Daft Punk]

[Space Song ; Beach House] (ah the loml and the album is called depression cherry so it makes me happy) 

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 18.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈 ; 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲

“Let me out!! LET ME OUT!”

You cry out, banging on the heavy wooden door until your knuckles bruise, red marks leaving their traces on your soft skin. The only lightsource is the tiny cell window, sun shining brightly and illuminating thousands of dust specks, floating around you like your lost hopes. The grey cement walls got closer and closer, seconds ticking in your head like a clock. 

This is it.

This is how you die. 

Crushed to death like a bug, your ambitions never getting their chance to prove themselves. All that you ever wanted to achieve was an impossibility as you were slowly but surely pressed together in the ever shrinking room. 

Salty tears roll down your cheek, a feeling of hopelessness washing over you as you turn your back against the door, sliding down to your feet, banging the back of your head lightly against the entrance.

You feel the rough walls hitting both sides of your forearms, a last ear deafening scream leaving your parted lips.

Until you woke up. 

With a series of jerking motions you sit up, panting like you just ran a marathon, the pounding of your heart audible to you. Darkness swallowed you as the night progressed, you considering yourself lucky to find yourself in your comfortable bed, still in your room. 

Only after minutes do you notice your wet cheeks, the tears not being limited to your dream world. You blink, your coated eyelashes weighing heavy on your eyelids as you wipe tears with the back of your hand. The shock from your dream didn’t reside, you now being too afraid to fall back on your plushy pillow, fearful of what horrible dreams awaited you on the other side. 

You grab your phone from the nightstand, immediately being hit with a bright light causing you to squint and turn away momentarily. 

[Search: being crushed dream meaning]

Multiple articles from all sorts of sketchy websites popped up, you clicking on the first one. 

“Stress or emotionally overwhelmed” 

You laugh lazily, the dream making sense as you feel yourself slipping back into a peaceful slumber, phone still in hand as the muscles in your face relax, jaw opening, your dream world once again inviting you for a dance. 

The sun woke you up with it’s radiant rays shining in your face, the closed blinds barely able to withstand them. Your phone was lying on the floor face down, you must have dropped it while sleeping you thought before rubbing your eyes from any dirt and staring up at the ceiling. 

Another day

Another day that I’m here.

You wish you could pull the covers over your head, get lost in your own mind and never deal with the outside world ever again. But you had to. 

You picked up your phone from the dusty floor that hadn’t been cleaned for weeks, you simply didn’t have the motivation to do it. The bright phone screen awaked you, you blinked your eyes a couple of times to see clearer. 

[3 Missed Calls - Mom]

You couldn’t be bothered to call her back. She was only gonna nag at you for not calling back earlier, wondering what you’ve been up to now that you’ve been fired from your job as a receptionist at the local hotel. What were you gonna say? Drinking too much booze and crying yourself to sleep every night? You couldn’t, that would only hurt her. 

Ignorance is bliss, as they say.

You got up, legs wobbling as you stumbled to the bathroom, head pounding from the amount of alcohol you consumed the night prior. Not with friends but alone, in your living room, in the one room apartment you no longer could afford. 

Ice cold water splashed onto your sweaty face, that being the only hygiene you could muster today. You turned the tap off, grabbing a towel and wiping your face and looking deep into your own eyes. 

That’s not me.

That’s not me looking back. 

You poked your tongue out, hoping the figure in the mirror wouldn’t move and you could confirm your thoughts but alas the figure followed you. You felt crazy, it was as if you’ve died a long time ago but still saw everything that happened. You could stick your hand through a wall and it would disappear you thought, nothing was real. Not even you. 

You entered your mess of a living room, seeing the wreck from yesterday night. Countless green glass bottles scattered on the table in front of the tv that was your only escape from reality. Blankets and pillows were thrown across the floor along with a box of tissues, your emotions bubbling up to the surface too often resulting in you crying and shaking on the floor, a feeling of fear washing over you late at night. 

You felt alone.

But you weren’t.

Fuck, why were you so ungrateful? You had everything. A roof over your head, a family that loves you, friends, food on the table. Yet, even this couldn’t satisfy you. You blamed yourself for everything. 

For your work firing you.

For your parents divorcing.

For your own pathetic life.

You shook your head as if you were shaking the negative thoughts out of your head, instead grabbing a couple of the empty bottles that were reeking with the scent of liquor and placing them on the kitchen counter. ‘Cleaning up’ in your eyes.

With a thump your back landed against the couch that swallowed you, engulfing you in a comforting embrace you got from no other person or object. This was your safe space you thought but not even your couch could save you from your intrusive reasonings. With a light click on the remote the tv screen lit up, your eyes still not used to the brightness since you’re always cooped up in your apartment where the blinds were always closed, another barrier between you and reality. 

Nature documentaries, your favorite.

The calming male voice of the narrator being the only one you talked to during your lonely days. The animals could make you forget. They lived so freely, moving wherever they wanted without a care in the world, either swimming, hopping or flying. You wish you were born as another animal than human. 

“The 52-hertz whale travels an astonishing 70 km a day but it’s voyage doesn’t bring social interactions. This whale is the loneliest whale in the world. It’s the only whale that is capable of emitting a whale call at such frequency, no other individuals communicating with the poor creature.”

You sat up in curiosity. It was a scream for help you thought. The whale needed help, it needed someone or something.

Just like you. 

You sighed, watching the lonely whale on your tv screen, seeing it’s gracious movements despite its size. It did look lonely in that deep dark sea, wondering how it would be to fall into the abyss of water, swallowing you whole and erasing the life that once sparked your soul. 

This was where you spent your entire days. The clock on the wall is ticking but the digits it displayed are oblivious to you. What did it matter if it was 5 pm or 1 am? You were still not gonna budge from your comforting seat on the couch. Drinking your feelings away no matter what time in the day. 

This was you. 

This was who you had become.

The sun started to set on the horizon, a delicate shade of light purple descending over it, covering the end of the world like the way a canopy covers the softness of a bed. You sigh, diverting your focus back on the tv screen after momentarily observing the life outside your window. Yet again, nature documentaries accompanied by the soft male voice, narrating every movement of the colibri that fluttered it’s wings at the speed of light on your screen in vivid colors. 

You got that look in your eyes. That look of amazement which you now only had when looking at the beautiful colors of a exotic bird. You moved closer to the tv screen in the now dark living room, the sun setting at a fast pace. It reminded you of the many times your mom shouted at you to not sit so close to the screen, scaring you by saying that you’d get rectangular eyes. 

Your childhood.

The only time you felt ease. 

The only time your family was as one. 

“y/n, what does your heart look like?” the therapist asked, scribbling mindlessly on a notepad.

“it’s a muscle that pumps blo-” you started but were quickly cut off. 

“no, I mean what does your heart look like, how does it feel?”

You sighed, looking down at the grey marbled floor, your legs shaking in nervousness. You hesitated before speaking, scrambling in your mind to say something sensible before the words came pouring out of you.

“i-it looks like a house. A dark, empty house,,, but it’s comforting.”

Once again you heard the sound of a pencil writing incoherent sentences. Curious as to know what secrets were on that piece of A5-paper.  

“is there anyone in the house with you?” the therapist inquired. 

You shook your head before speaking. 

“I don’t want to let anyone in, this is my safe space” you say, almost setting up an emotional barrier, not wanting to answer further questions. 

The person sitting across from you hummed as you stared out the window behind them, the green ivy bushes already grown tall enough to cover half of the grimy window. 

“is the house empty?” they asked to which you shook your head once again, avoiding the glassy-eyed stare of the therapist. 

“no,,, there are dusty furniture covered in white cloths and-,,, and family photos in the drawers.” 

“is it your family?” 

You shook your head in disagreement.

“How did you end up here?” 

You thought for a second, puffing out your cheeks, a habit of yours. You searched for a reason but not finding any. 

“I just,,, was here one day.”

“The sun never shines here.” you added after a solid 30 seconds of silence. 

You were stuck in that house.

The house that was once filled with happy memories of another family, you simply a ghost that was now trying to fit the broken pieces together, wanting desperately to see them smiling again. 

Tears started forming in your eyes, a shiny gloss over your orbs. 

But you never cried.

Not in front of others. 

You thought often about that visit. Why your heart was an desolate house and why the words spilled out of you like a poisonous liquid.

You closed your eyes, the bright colors fluttering behind your eyelids as the comforting sounds of the woods blasted from the tv. 

You wish you could be somewhere else. 

Anywhere but here. 

A single tear rolled down your cheek as a smile creeped up on your face, your butt against the floor as your knees were underneath your chin, your entire figure curled up into a small ball. 

You sighed as your eyes fluttered open again. You were still here, in your apartment that smelled like nothing but alcohol and disappointment. 

Firmly planting both your hands on the wooden floor you heaved yourself up with the intention of getting more tissues, the blue colored tissue box on the floor being as empty as others expectations of you. 

But as you stood up the entire room started spinning, small specks of rainbow flashing by your eyes. You thought you stood up to quickly grabbing onto the wall for a second before collapsing against it, your entire body shaking. You cried louder, thinking you were about to pass out. Your hair stuck to your tear stained cheek as your puffy eyes closed once again. 

What was happening?

The rain hit your unconscious body, your knees scraped from the concrete you lied on. You were soaked from head to toe, lying with your cheek against the ground in a puddle of rain. You woke up from your head pounding, your bloody knees only gaining your attention after you’ve looked around in a confused daze.

It was empty. An alleyway in the dark night. You found yourself panicked, anxiety bubbling inside of you. That’s when you saw it. A single street light above a red phone booth. You tried to stand up but fell over again as your legs could barely hold you up, now scraping your elbow against the gritty ground. 

Crying out, you started shouting for help. 

“HELP!! SOMEBODY HELP!” 

You screamed at the top of your lungs, voice cracking as your tears started to look identical to the rain that was pouring over your cold, helpless body. Nobody came, your voice only echoing against the wall that the phone booth stood near to. 

You got on all fours, crawling towards the light as pure pain shot through your body, small pebbles jabbing into the open wounds on your knees. You needed shield from the rain. Desperate huffs and groans escaping your parted lips as you dragged yourself through small puddles, the phonebooth seemingly getting further and further away from you. Looking through the soaked curtains that was your hair you were determined, this was life or death you thought as you continued to shout out for help, it appeared to be useless since the only other sound besides your own voice was the rain hitting the ground. 

Shivering hands grabbed onto the corner of the crimson red phonebooth, the streetlight illuminating your teary eyes. You held onto that frigid and wet piece of metal as if you were holding onto a treasure. 

As if you won a race.

As if you pleased your parents.

You looked up, dragging the inner side of your leg against the concrete, your pyjama pants wet to the bone. Desperately you got yourself together, your arms shaking as the rough pads of your hands met the ground, pushing yourself up into a standing position. You hissed at the pain in your knees as you grabbed onto the metal handle that opened the phonebooth, stepping inside.

The inside was surprisingly warm, as if someone had been there moments prior. A ripped piece of paper was taped on the glass pane to the right of the payphone, something that seemed like a phone number but could impossibly be since it wasn’t a full number. 

[1800-xxx]

You looked at the payphone and then back at the washed out paper, the edges of the note curling and stained with yellow. Only when you looked back at the phone again did you notice the keypad. To your surprise there was an “x” button. Your head felt heavy, deciding to lean it against the other side of the stuffy phone booth, your hot breath creating steam on the glass.

You wanted to wake up from this nightmare. 

Your entire body ached, let alone the blood that was dripping down your leg. The rusty payphone connected to the actual phone, a black handle connected to the underside of the machinery by a coiled metal rope. You picked up the phone, putting it against your ear and groaned when you remembered that you needed coins in order for the payphone to work

[0.5 gold/minute] 

You rubbed your eyes. Gold? You sighed loudly, your knees barely being able to hold your weary body any longer. Hesitant fingers pressed the number that was jot down on the lined note, pressing each key accordingly. You pressed the last x before you pressed the “call” button, not expecting anything to happen. 

But after a few seconds a female automated voice spoke to you. 

“Thank you for calling. This place only appears to the suffering. If you are receiving this call, congratulations! Your prayers have been answered. Drink the liquid in the paper cup above this payphone. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid.”

The voice lagged, a static sound accompanying the automated voice. Your breath got shaky as you looked around, holding the phone close to your ear with both hands. This could only be some sort of kidnapping scheme or this was a sick dream. 

“It’s a dream, y/n. Calm down, nothing's gonna hurt you.”

You muttered to yourself, pinching your forearm tightly and wincing from pain. This wasn’t a dream after all. 

Your gaze landed on the brown paper cup that was balancing delicately on top of the payphone, your cracking knuckles reaching for it as you let the phone fall out of your grasp, being caught mere inches from the sticky floor of the photobooth by the coil. Bringing the cup closer to your face you saw a dark viscous liquid that smelled sweet enough to sting your nose. Your face contorted into disgust, debating on whether not to drink the contents of the paper cup. 

“Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid.”

The voice continued ringing in your ears. You had nothing to lose. If you died then you at least got what you wanted. Holding your breath, you brought the cup closer to your quivering lips, parting them slightly as you held your nose tightly, not wanting to feel whatever horrible taste could be found in that dark pit of goo. 

It burned the moment it hit the delicate taste buds on your tongue, your voice muffled as the fluid descended down your throat, your larynx bobbing up and down with each gulp. Despite covering your nose you could taste the pungent sweetness, it tasted like pure acid. Not that you knew what that tasted like but what you assumed it would. 

You coughed, accidentally spilling some of the goo on the floor, dribbling out of your mouth. The heavy rain pitter-pattered against the metal roof above your head, your eyelids threatening to shut. The cup fell out of your hand as you slammed your forehead against the payphone, not hard enough to bleed but hard enough to bruise. Your jawbone hurt from how much you’d been crying, eyes puffy as the salty tears mixed with the rain droplets on your face.

“i-i’m sorry mom, i’m so fucking sorry.”

You rolled your forehead left to right against the rusty material of the payphone, your soaked hair covering your empty eyes. Your knees bent under you causing you to fall on your butt with your knees clinking against each other, the sticky contents on the floor sticking to the soft fabric of your pants. 

“I’M SO SORRY!”

You never thought a scream this loud could protrude its way out of your throat, the vibrations bouncing off the glass that to your surprise didn’t break. Everything started to become shades darker, almost as if a black and white filter settled over your vision. 

No, this is how you’re gonna die.

Alone.

In the rain. 

“Hyung, what are you gonna do with her?”

Muffled club music struck your ear along with a high pitched ringing, your eyelids felt as heavy as they’d been in the phonebooth. With your head pounding you slowly open your eyes, first not seeing anything but darkness before eight unknown men form a circle around you, hovering above you. 

You shoot up from your lying position, fear overtaking your body. Where were you but more importantly why the fuck were you alone in a dark room with 8 young men? Not thinking straight, you decided to scream once again, thinking they would back off and let you be.

“Get away from me!!”

The males covered their ears, groaning in pain and a blonde boy throwing himself on the floor, rolling around. 

“HEY!! HEY! WE’RE NOT GONNA HURT YOU!”

A strong voice overpowered yours, every word almost sounding like a grunt. You around, seeing that you were sitting on a soft leather couch before looking up at the male that was standing right infront of you. He was muscular, his biceps sitting snugly in the tight black t-shirt that covered him, a grey apron tied around his waist and his dark hair shielding his intense gaze and furrowed eyebrows. He had a jaw so sharp you could cut silence with it but silence was the last thing this room had. The boys were shouting at each other, trying to hush the others while screaming themselves. 

“SHUT UP!!”

The room got quiet as the muscular guy roared, the seven other individuals coming to a halt. You looked at them all with a puzzled expression, all of them handsome, a fact you couldn’t deny. 

“Where the fuck am I, who are you guys and p-please don’t kill me”

Your voice cracked at the end of your sentence as your eyes twinkled, tears teasing the corners of your eyes, fingers shaking in fear. The male closest to you sat down, the weight of the couch shifting. He rubbed his hand together before he started speaking in a calmer voice.

“I’m Changbin, bartender of the Lost Souls nightclub. That’s Chan, security guard.”

With his chin, he pointed at a guy in ripped black jeans with a white t-shirt, a sweatband across his forehead, pushing his slightly curly hair back. He didn’t look like a security guard, the only thing that might have pointed to that was the walkie-talkie hanging from his belt. You nodded before Changbin continued.

“And those are some friends, frequent visitors if you will.”

A light haired boy with shiny rhinestones under his eyes stepped forward after he’d been hugging the tallest guy in the room the entire time. 

“u-uhm, the name’s Felix! This is Hyunjin, Seungmin, Jeongin, Jisung and Minho, and yeah those two, Chan and Changbin.”

He pointed at each guy respectively and the room filled with small “hi’s” and smiles. They didn’t look threatening, all of them being very timid and looking down at the ground. Your gaze diverted back to Changbin that was staring at you the entire time.

“Can somebody tell me where I am?”

Changbin cleared his throat, stomping his boot a couple of times. 

“This is gonna sound,,, interesting but you have to believe me-”

You interrupted the muscular boy, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, noticing that it had dried. 

“Why should I believe you? We’ve just met?”

Changbin sighed. 

“Just,,, hear me out”. You nodded before he continued.

“You answered a phone call right?”

Nodding once again your gaze drifted towards the other boys that were looking at Changbin with googly eyes.

“Well,,, this place only appears to those who are,,, struggling with themselves. Obviously you don’t have to tell us why you’re here but,,, this is a place to let go. The only rule here is no fighting”

“Or dancing on the tables” the tall blonde boy added with a snark causing a squirrel-like boy to giggle, playfully hitting the blonde before looking at Chan who glared back at him, the boy being flustered and turning serious again. Jisung, his name was. 

“W-what did that phonebooth do,,, does everyone go through that?” you asked with a curious tone.

“Usually it’s a pleasant experience going in that phonebooth, the sun shining and people hanging around that alleyway before taking the phonecall and drinking the elixir,,, there must have been a glitch in the system.”

He sounded unsure, scratching the back of his head as he looked at all of the boys. 

“System? What system? I’m dreaming, right?” you said in panic, wanting to get out of this oddly suffocating room. 

“W-we are real and you’re not dreaming,,, it’s just that, we can’t meet in real life you know? This is a place to,,, let oneself go and I know it’s scary since you only get here randomly, it must have been hard passing out like that,,”

A boy with fluffy light brown hair and a pretty eye smile said, Seungmin! You remembered his name because you thought it fitted him, sounding both soft and sharp at the same time. 

“y-yeah,,, it was scary b-but thank you for caring about me” you said with a half smile

“oh! and also, we treated all your wounds, luckily you were passed out so you couldn’t feel the pain but let me tell you,,, it looked awful, I don’t understand how you did that Chan” Jisung remarked with wide eyes, looking at you concerned before turning to Chan.

“Did what?” you inquired to which Jisung responded.

“Removing the pebbles in your wounds, h-how did you even get those in there?” he asked to which you tried to remember, seeing hazed memories of you crawling on the asphalt in the storming rain.

“I was crawling towards the phone booth'' you said quietly as the boys gazed at you with concern. The atmosphere got dusked and in an attempt to lift the mood you cleared your throat, lightly running your hands over the bandaids that were plastered on your scraped knees, wincing from the contact. 

Changbin made eye contact with Chan, jerking his head towards the door to signal for him and the other boys to leave the room. Chan nodded and patted Jeongin on the shoulder, trying to scoot all the boys out of the room like a shepherd leading a bunch of silent sheep.

“Let’s have some fun! Drinks on me boys~” Chan exclaimed to get the boys off their worried thoughts about you, the curly haired male closed the door quietly and both you and Changbin stayed silent until the footsteps were faint on the other side of the black wooden door. 

“Is this better?” Changbin said with a slight smile at the end. “They can be quite the bunch sometimes, either they’re very much off the deep end or they’re just a rowdy mess” he laughs, looking out in the distance before he looks at you with your knees under your chin, holding your legs close to your body.

“So,,, we’re all here for similar reasons?” you mumbled, holding your gaze stable on his dark eyes.

“yeah,,, pretty much. We’ve all dealt with something mentally draining and of course you don’t have to tell but I just want you to know that nothing will hurt you here.” Changbin replied. 

“I do want to tell,,, but it’s just that I don’t want to be alone about it. I’ve never been around people that have shared the same experiences.”

Changbin slid closer to you on the couch, putting one leg over the other. 

“It’s like that for,,, almost every single individual in the club, we all want to tell our stories and this is the place to do it. No one is gonna judge you for it. I remember thinking that when I first got here, ‘everyone is gonna judge me for not drinking’.”

Changbin’s last sentence caught your attention.

“but aren’t you the bartender? shouldn’t you know all the,,, liquors and such?”

Changbin sighed and you regretted you sentence, thinking that maybe you asked a too personal question. 

“I do know them but not in the way one should.” 

Something clicked in your head when the boy uttered those words. You nodded silently, letting your gaze fall to your wounded knees as your shaky voice spoke;

“So do I” 

Changbin’s gaze was fixated on the floor as he shared what was on his mind. 

“But no one judged me,,, eh,,, I never asked for your name!” the boy said to which you giggled, reassuring Changbin that you were in a stable state.

“It’s y/n, nice to meet you!” you said, stretching your hand forward to shake his. Changbin smiled towards your gesture.

“pretty name, angel” he said, shaking your hand and noticing how small it was in his grasp, the cold metal of his rings contrasting to your now warm hands. He didn’t let go immediately, instead holding your hand and feeling it’s warm temperature, running his thumb across your knuckles softly. You snarked at his comment.

“angel? didn’t know we had established pet names for each other in barely 10 minutes of meeting.” 

“and I didn’t know angels landed in this place” he said back. “i’ve had to deal with 7 annoying boys that never listen to me,,, well, 8 but one of them,,, disappeared.”

You nodded, not wanting to overstep any boundaries by asking about that 8th guy incase it was an emotional topic. 

“how is it? working with alcohol despite having quite a rocky relationship to it?”

The buff boy hummed, drumming his fingers on the seat next to him. 

“It’s better than one might think. I get to be around it without engaging in the activity myself, simply serving clients and the boys  already know it, we look out for each other. Like a family you know!” Changbin said with a happy tone, not wanting the conversation to get you in a bad mood after all you’ve been through that night.

“family,,, could use one of those” you joked and Changbin actually laughed which you’ve never felt with anyone before, the only response you usually got was your therapist writing down your self deprecating jokes with their orange lead pencil.

“you’re always welcome to us” he said, letting go of your hand that now felt empty. You felt safe. There was no way of describing it but you felt this caring aura around this man, drawing you closer to him. 

“how long does this last? i’m guessing you go back to ‘the real world’ again at some point” you spoke, making quotation marks with your hands.

“it depends, it’s different every time but you will pass out just like you did when you got here but you won’t go back to the phone booth, you’ll wake up where you were last in real life. Time goes on in the real world but here,,, clocks don’t really work. We’ve tried bringing clocks or phones with us but the digits don’t change.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. This had to be a dream. 

“w-whats with the gold on the phone? Does money exist in this,,, universe?” you asked with confusion to which Changbin shook his head.

“no, drinks are free and so are the phone calls, i have no idea why the phone booth says that or why Chan said that drinks are on him, he must have been stressed trying to get the boys out of here” Changbin said to which you giggled.

“i-is there any time where you never return?” you asked, earning a bittersweet smile from the male.

“yeah,,, if those issues you have get resolved but,, that rarely happens. Destructive behaviours feed of each other. Get rid of one and it gets replaced with another.”

You recognised that. It was always something, you could never live in peace without feeling the need to self sabotage. 

“Poor innie knows that too well” he added with an acerbic tone. 

“innie?” you tilted your head in question, gazing around the dark room that was rather empty, only a couple of dark colored shelves on the wall and the couch you were sitting on along with the ceiling lamp that was stingy with it’s light.

“Jeongin, the youngest among us. Poor boy has been through it all, if it’s not drugs it’s self harm and Minho is a real dick sometimes, bringing pocket knives in “defense”. He’s delusional, thinking everyone is out to get him and Jeongin knows this. We’ve found our precious little boy in the bathroom too many times, holding those stupid knifes Minho keeps having on him and crying till his cheeks puff up.”

You took a mental note to keep your distance from Minho, feeling bad for Changbin that had to be amidst this mess while dealing with his own emotions. You could relate, being the emotional pillar between your parents that hated each other to the brink of physical violence. There’s always someone that has to suffer because of other people's problems. 

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Changbin.” you managed to stutter out, not knowing what else to add to the conversation.

“Ah,,, don’t be, y/n! Just take good care of yourself, that’s what matters the most to me” Changbin said. You smiled, moving closer and hovered your hand above his shoulder.

“Can I?” you asked quietly to which Changbin nodded and moments later felt your warm hand patting his back. He felt listened to. Understood. And even though he was yet to tell you his entire life story he knew that you were different from the others. You actually cared about him. 

The room started spinning again and you clutched onto Changbin’s black t-shirt, trying to stabilize yourself. Those rainbow colored speckles you had seen earlier appeared again, vision blurring right in front of your eyes. 

“y/n? how are you?” Changbin’s voice was worried but he knew what was happening. 

“it’s spinning again, I t-think I’m gonna pass,,, out” you muttered, 

“It’s alright y/n, I’m here yeah?” His rough voice distinguished itself from his comforting words as you held onto the dark haired boy, a faint smell of tobacco interlacing with the air you breathed in through your nose. Your two arms were now wrapped around the male with your face against his broad shoulder, eyes shutting as tightly as they could, face contorting into fear until everything disappeared. The vague beats of the music. The pain that ached from your knees. The feeling of finally finding home in someone's arms. 

Everything turned into nothing in Changbin’s embrace. You were slowly turning into his everything because he had nothing in his life. 

And then you woke up. 

You gasped for air as you woke up in panic, hunching over on the floor in a coughing fit, clawing at your neck for oxygen. Panting on the floor you put your forehead against the wooden laminated floorboards, your frizzy hair blocking out the little light that was in the apartment and being hit with the malodorous smell of distilled alcohol. 

What was that?

You were convinced that it was some kind of wicked dream. An escape from reality even. But as Changbin said, you did wake up in the exact same place and position you passed out in. A long breath seized through your lungs as you shifted in your position on the floor. 

“Son of a bitch!” 

Tears prickled the corners of your eyes as the hard floor hit your wounded knees. You quickly sat down on your butt, lifting your knees up to your chin and only then did your heart drop.

It wasn’t a dream. Your eyes lingered on the bandaids that were placed with the utmost care across your both knees, a stain of dark brown blood seeping through the sticky elastic material and dried blood staining your knees in a haphazard attempt of somebody trying to wipe it off without hurting you. You managed to grab the edge of the sofa, levering yourself up with, testing out the strength left in your wobbly legs. Your phone lit up, sitting on the place you’re usually curled up in. Throwing yourself on the soft piece of furniture you observed the phone screen, lost eyes wandering mindlessly over the brightly lit display. 

What you noticed wasn’t the worried text from your mother.

It was the fact that the digits hadn’t changed from when you passed out. 

Your head snapped towards the tv screen and the phone fell from your hand when you stared at the screen, breath trembling.

The same documentary. The same colibri. 

This couldn’t be. Surely you hadn’t just stopped time,,, right? This was not something Changbin warned you about. How long until you meet Changbin again? An hour,,, or ever? 

There was nothing else you could do besides wait. Wait until the next time you pass out. And what better way to make time pass but to be confronted by your mother? You pulled up the text on your phone and read it hastily before scoffing.

[Are you eating well? Please call if you see this]

Since when did she care about you? You knew that she did care. Somewhere deep inside her motherly heart she did care but the way she displayed that so-called ‘affection’ didn’t make it obvious. You tried to justify every word, believing all the lies she fed you. You tried so hard to believe that you were healthy, that your mental health wasn’t deteriorating before the eyes of your very own mother that was refusing to see the truth. That her child was indeed in pain. You couldn’t blame her, it was her way of dealing with the issue but it didn’t make it easier for you. Your thumbs hovered above the keyboard, you couldn't think of anything better to write and quickly typed it down before you hit send.

[yes, i’m busy]

Busy contemplating your existence. Your father wasn’t exactly any better. Throwing out each one of your family members until there was only him left. He had no trouble filling that emptiness, simply creating a new family and forgetting you as if you were a chapter of the book called ‘previous life’. You didn’t mind, not after everything he did to you and your mother. There was no need for a person like that in your life but unfortunately it influenced you more than you thought, always seeking validation in either work or relationships because how could you validate yourself after your self esteem had been crushed by this tyrant?

You threw your phone on the table, a clink noise being heard as it hit a bottle, knocking it over but not breaking it. Your parental issues or mental health was for once not the biggest concern in your life, now instead wanting to search for the answers that could explain the nightclub. How did it exist? What caused it to exist and who was behind it? You needed to get back there somehow. 

The tv had turned off by itself, you found yourself waking up on the couch, using a pillow as a blanket, hugging the warm material closer to your body as you whined. With confused and lost eyes you scanned the room for a clock, hitting the table a couple of times and finally getting your hands on your phone, bringing it closer to your eyes. 

[3:02 am] the digits lit up. You rubbed your tired eyes with your left hand, throwing the pillow on the floor and using the phone display as a torch in the pitch dark room. There was no point in falling asleep again, you had already slept so many hours, sleeping anymore would only make you drowsy the entire next day. You yawned as you staggered towards the bathroom, flicking the lightswitch on the wall and squinting fiercely as you were blinded by the harsh bathroom ceiling light. You put the phone down and quickly caught your reflection in the mirror before you sat down on the toilet to pee, folding a couple of sheets toilet paper in your hand. You yawned again as you flushed, going to wash your hands but once again being amused by your reflection.

That’s not me. 

It’s the person I’ve become but never wanted to be. 

Your dark circles almost reached your cheekbones, the wounds on your knees still stinging even after hours of peaceful slumber. You poked your tongue out to which the reflection did the same, staring back at you with frizzy hair and puffy eyes from tears. You couldn’t trust it. Mirrors lie you thought and so does every single reflective surface in the entire world. You would never know what you truly looked like and that ignited panic in you, feeling your breath rapidly increasing as you held onto the white cold edge of the bathroom sink. 

This happened. Too often. It was the feeling of not knowing yourself or your surroundings. Like you had just appeared in this world, scared and alone. To not know who you are and having to live with yourself til the day you die frightened you. But you didn’t know if death was any better. Sure, the thought was comforting but being buried under layers of soil, having flowers and insects living their best life above you as you simply rotted away wasn’t the solution to all your worries although a moment of eternal peace did sound tempting. 

You felt a lump in your throat, trying to cough as if it was some sort of anxiety flem when in reality it was your brain setting up imaginary barricades. Your hair draped in front of your face and with furious eyes you peeked up, seeing your almost demon-like expression and smiling psychotically. 

I hate you. 

I fucking hate you, y/n l/n.

Your smile was wiped off the moment the room started spinning. Your reflection becomes diffuse in the mirror as if it wasn’t enough not recognising it. A loud gulp made its way down your esophagus as you continued staring at yourself in disgust. You blinked slowly, every time you closed your eyes you saw those rainbow colored specks all around, almost as if they were distracting you from what was happening, like a kaleidoscope for a child. You felt as if the ground started shaking, an earthquake in your personal world that was separated from the real one. Maybe you were going back to the nightclub, to Changbin’s reassuring arms or maybe you we’re really going crazy this time. The specks got bigger, turning into elaborate patterns in neon colors that clouded your vision. You kept eye contact with your reflection for what seemed like forever, despising the person that was staring back, your gaze broken as your eyes rolled back in your skull, your eyes white as if you’d been hexed before you collapsed on the frigid bathroom floor. 

“y/n? y/n, wake up!” 

The sun dazed your eyes as you woke up on the slightly toasty concrete. Changbin tilted his head as a cigarette was hanging out the corner of his mouth, bright sunlight behind him. He had on a jean jacket with patches from several underground punk and rock bands, his neck was embellished with multiple silver chains and his hair was slicked back, glistening in the heat. He knocked the wind out of you even more, as if passing out in the bathroom wasn’t enough torture. 

“oh y/n! you’re awake!” 

Chan says, coming closer to you, this time he’s wearing a tanktop that showed off his flawless abs, your mouth watering at the sight. You only then remembered that you looked like a mess, still in your pyjamas that consisted of an old sports event t-shirt and small basketball shorts. 

“a-am i in the club again?” you say, rubbing your eyes with both hands before feeling your head pounding a bit, sitting up slowly and feeling the harsh ground beneath you. 

“no! you’re at the phone booth, everyone is here now oh and, this is usual how it’s supposed to look.”

After your vision stops blurring you look around, seeing the same alleyway and the same crimson phone booth but being hit with a completely different atmosphere. People were standing in all types of fancy clothes, trendy bright colors, exaggerated makeup and 7 inch platforms. The sun was beaming, it felt like a hot summer day with friends, just like the old days back when you had friends. 

“why does y/n always wear pyjamas? don’t you have any cool clothes?” Hyunjin snarks, pushing his blonde hair behind his ears, displaying his dangly silver and black earrings. 

“knock it off asshat, the poor girl is probably scared off her mind” Seungmin sneaks up behind the blonde, punching him lightly in the stomach before he smiles sweetly at you. Duality was this man's second name. 

“t-thank you seungmin” you said, giving a smile back but being met with a surprised facial expression.

“you remembered my name!” he said, giggling adorably. You gave a small nod before you looked back at Changbin that was drawing a breath from the cigarette, puffing out a white cloud close to your face before waving it away. You noticed how tired Changbin looked, his cheekbones sunken in and his complexion bleak. He stretched out his hand to help you up which you grabbed, the insides between his pointer and ring finger being slightly stained orange from tobacco. You wobbled up on your feet, knees slightly unstable but feeling better from sitting down a while. 

“are you alright y/n? i could open that resting room if you want” he said before inhaling smoke once again, spreading in his mouth and intoxicating him. You shook your head.

“i want to see the club, why not while we’re there you know?” you said, smiling brightly and making his heart jump. Changbin hid the grin he so desperately wanted to display by dropping the cigarette bud on the concrete, stepping on it with his heavy boots that had chain details attached. 

“alright, whatever you want angel” Changbin sneered which caught the attention of the 7 other boys, all staring at the jean-jacketed boy. 

“angel? seems like someone has a crush” Hyunjin remarked making Jisung burst out in laughter. 

“says master heartbreaker” Chan said under his breath making Hyunjin furrow his eyebrows, diverting his gaze from Changbin to Chan instead. 

“come on you guys! can we not go to the club already?” Felix said, him also wearing a crop top along with a leather chest harness that accentuated his figure. Jisung nodded and made his way towards the phone booth that had droplets of steam on the inside, Felix and Hyunjin following shortly after the squirrel-like boy. You observed the alleyway. People leaning against the grey wall where the phone booth was, either smoking or chatting. Some were standing, others sitting down directly on the concrete, feeling the same heat you felt as you woke up. 

With unstable steps you walked towards the phone booth behind all the boys, Changbin staying by your side and waving his hands towards the 7 boys that had somehow crammed into the humid and stuffy metal building, Chan closing the glassdoor as a couple of the boys giggled. You and Changbin stood on the other side of the door, seeing how Chan grabbed the black phone you had once held with cold dirty hands and Seungmin giggling as he took a sip out of the contents in the paper cup, passing it around to the others that did the same.

They disappeared right in front of you. Your mouth stood agape. They didn’t pass out, they just disappeared into thin air, leaving the airless crimson structure empty yet again. 

“w-wait, why didn’t they pass out?” you asked, turning to Changbin as you ran a hand through your hair.

“it happens when you’re new. the body isn’t used to the entire,,, universe switch so you will probably pass out this time also but don’t worry, i’ll catch you” 

Changbin grinned, opening the door and being hit by the lack of oxygen. He held the door open for you to which you smiled, stepping inside and seeing that the paper cup had been refilled automatically. The door closed behind Changbin, you standing in close proximity to the boy as you lifted the phone slowly, still feeling the warmth from Chan’s hand. The dark haired boy grabbed the brown paper cup, not even looking at the goopy substance before drinking it, seeing his adam's apple bob up and down. You put the phone towards your ear, wondering why you didn’t hear the female automated voice.

“it doesn’t work?” you said with confusion to which Changbin smiled, pressing in the infamous number on the rusty keypad.

[1800-xxx]

“yeah, it doesn’t if you don’t type in the number” he chuckled, holding the paper cup in both hands and leaning against the humid glass.

Suddenly you hear the voice you were dreading the hear.

“Thank you for calling. This place only appears to the suffering. If you are receiving this call, congratulations! Your prayers have been answered. Drink the liquid in the paper cup above this payphone. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid.”

It reminded you of that night. That dark rainy evening. The voice started to lag, just like it did last time. You hung up and turned around whereupon you saw Changbin handing you the paper cup. You gulped and put your lips on the edge of the cup, looking at him with unease but feeling comfortable with his presence. You tilted the cup, feeling the sweetness trickle down your throat, almost stinging your insides. Changbin smiled, he looked like the typical bad boy from every cliché teen movie but it made your heart flutter, slightly embarrassed at the state of yourself. He pushed away from the glass wall and swiped his thumb across the corner of your mouth, wiping off the sweet liquid and licking it off the tip of his thumb. You stood there, frozen at the sudden action, gazing softly at him. 

“you had something there” he chuckled as you started to feel lightheaded again, your eyelids getting heavy. 

“thanks” you said shortly, your gaze drifting down on the dirty floor beneath your feet, drifting in and out of consciousness. 

Changbin didn’t say anything, catching you mere seconds after you collapsed on the grimy surface. Admiring your heavy eyes and puffy cheeks for a second before he himself disappeared into the abyss. 

“One Moscow mule, please!” 

An unfamiliar voice shouted through the blasting club music accompanied by what sounded like the shaking off a cocktail shaker. You groaned, your eyes fluttering open and being hit by the beams of a thousand light machines in all sorts of colors.

“Oh y/n!!” Jisung shouted on the other side of the bar, you found yourself sitting on a chair in the corner of the bar, on the same side as Changbin that was working diligently, mixing some concoction into a metal shaker. You rubbed your eyes, yawning and wondering how you could sleep sitting up. You heard Changbin set the metal cup down, telling something to the woman beside him, must be his co-worker you thought. He kneeled down next to the chair you were sitting on, looking up at you with curious eyes. 

“how are you feeling?” he asked loudly, trying to overvoice the music.

“im good” you answered back just as loud, the two of you locking eyes. Changbin smiled at you with his tired face, glancing over the glasses that were located beneath the bar. 

“you want something to drink?” Changbin said to which you nodded. 

“give me anything” you said, messing with your hair and sighing. You felt tired, an urge to sleep despite the loud blaring music. Maybe it was more of an emotional fatigue. A lack of feeling. And that’s usually when you turn to the bottles. Changbin nodded, standing up and returning to his co-worker, starting to grab all kinds of pretty coloured alcohol. 

“ay! y/n! come join us!” you heard Felix say, him standing with a glass in his hand, the other boys scattered around the club along with the other troubled individuals. You smiled widely, looking around and noticing the small exit gate connected to the bar. You patted Changbin on the back, him turning around with a grin before you exited through the gate, closing it after you and pushed through the crowd of people, making your way over to the boys. 

“y/n, welcome to where you will feel alive” Jisung yelled, spreading his arms and nearly knocking someone in the hand.

It was truly living you thought. Every single way to escape reality was located here whether it would be alcohol, drugs or sex. People dancing and jumping, grinding and rubbing up against each other. In multiple booths there were people making out, touching in unknown places. Many looked outright high, moving as if their body was possessed by some dance god, not knowing how to control their limbs. You could have sworn you saw Seungmin putting a yellow pill in his mouth, smiling mischievously at someone you didn’t know. 

So this was letting go. 

“y/n! here!” you heard Changbin’s voice call behind you, turning around and seeing him putting a glass of clear liquid onto the stained wooden bar with coasters scattered all around, a couple lime wedges floating around with the ice in the glass.

“vodka tonic, giving you the strong ones” he said, grinning, to which you smiled back, understanding the hint to his personal life through his eyes. The glass was cold against your warm hand since you were in this stuffy environment filled with countless people and without any windows, only a ventilation system that led to nothing. You put the edge of the glass against your lips, taking a sip and swallowing harshly, feeling bitterness that tasted sweet because that’s what alcohol does when it’s consumed on a particularly bitter day. Or life. 

The other boys were dancing, Chan mostly hanging around the edges of the nightclub and observing the nightlife. You made your way over to him, taking another sip in order to gain the courage to strike up a conversation. 

“Sup? you feeling any better?” he asked before you had the chance to even open your mouth. 

“better. why aren’t you enjoying yourself like the others?” 

“i mean,,, i’m technically doing my job even though i’m not getting paid for it. i just like to be in charge i guess,,,” he said, getting more and more silent as he spoke. You nodded.

“i do work with stuff in real life as well” he added, to which you raised your eyebrows.

“what do you work with,,, if you don’t mind me asking!” you said, taking another sip of what tasted like Lucifer’s saliva. 

“music producer! it’s tiresome but,,, i don’t really need sleep,,, or more like i can’t sleep. lucky there’s energy drinks and naps” he said with a giggle, his dimples displaying as he chuckled, leaning against the black walls of the nightclub. 

“must be tough,,, but wait,,, i’ve never heard your music,,, and also shouldn’t you be the DJ then?” you said confused, swirling the liquid in your hand. 

“but that’s the thing y/n, all these people, every single person you see in this room lives in another universe”

You gazed at him, Chan looking straight ahead towards the crowd.

“what do you mean by different universes?” you asked to which curly haired boy cocked his eyebrow.

“we will never coexist y/n, when i tell you that we’ve tried to bring our friendships to the real world i really mean it. we will never exist in your life outside of this hub and,,, it sucks.” Chan took a pause before speaking, pondering on what to say next.

“-thats what happened with a friend we had. i’m saying had because we don’t know where they are or what adventures await them. They just,,, disappeared” Chan said mellowly, you humming in response as you took a final sip of the devil’s juice, already feeling your face heating up.

“h-how does one get out of this place,,, forever i mean” you asked, leaning back against the same wall as Chan and looking right ahead as the song changed to a slower, almost psychedelic beat. 

“when said person gets help,,, or starts to feel better or when you hit the casket, three options basically” he says with an acerbic smile. “what? Do you like Changbin?” Chan says teasingly. “you’ve been catching glances at him this entire conversation.”

He was right, you had been glancing over at Changbin occasionally, you couldn’t help it. Was it an excuse for you to look at his cute face from a distance or because you cared about him? You laughed it off but Chan turned serious.

“you know that’s it’s not possible.” he says quietly.

“what? what is not possible?”

“a relationship”

You choked on your own saliva, being blinded by the annoyingly bright strobe lights.

“a relat- ya! do you really think I have time for any of that? besides,,, i’m not really interested in Changbin.”

“who said only you should be interested?” 

Your eyes widened when Chan said that. No way could Changbin have these weird feelings to you, the feeling shouldn’t be mutual. 

“h-has Changbin said something about you?” you asked timidly, gazing over at Changbin that temporarily made eye contact across the club.

“why don’t you ask him yourself? but i’m telling you y/n,, don't get attached, you will get hurt,,, j-just like i did once” 

Sure, you understood what Chan meant. Everyone was here for the time being. One day he could disappear if he decided that the life he was living now either isn’t worth it or he takes control and makes something out of it. There comes a time where you are too tired of living the way you do and so you do something about it, no matter if it’s good or bad. 

Changbin waved his hand at you, wanting you to join him behind the bar where now Felix was standing and annoying Changbin by tickling him or whispering in his ear as he moved his body with much fluidity. You smiled, waving towards Chan shortly before you once again made your way through the crowd, feeling lightheaded but in a positive way, as if you really were forgetting reality for a moment. 

“y/n!! come!!” Changbin yelled, bouncing slightly to the typical house beat that was now playing, barely holding the bottle of gin since Felix was pestering him playfully. Changbin’s co-worker opened the wooden gate for you, smiling sweetly at you and you doing the same back, your gaze drifting down until you notice the red marks around her throat. You were often scared by people. Not by their actions but by their way to cover them up and of course, you were guilty of this too. Looking at these people you would never guess the pain that was going on inside, the surface level happiness really is surface level. You could smile genuinely towards her, you didn’t have to understand everything she was going through but you knew how it was, smiling when bridges are burning in your mind. 

Sometimes pretending hurts more. 

“Changbin!” you squealed after you had passed by his co-worker, holding the empty glass that was now nothing more but half melted ice cubes and three wedges of bright green lime. Without thinking you put the glass down on his working station and pull him into a tight hug, squeezing your body against his and feeling the warmth radiate off of him. He froze awkwardly in your arms before loosening up, wrapping his arms around you and ultimately taking in your scent that was now mostly pungent with liquor and sleep, a soft scent that Changbin couldn’t get enough off. You felt safe which was rare in a nightclub especially knowing that most people were either high or carrying weapons. But there was something about him that made you feel like home. It felt familiar, like you’d visited his soul. As if the two of you were sharing the same empty house in your heart despite you never letting anyone in, too scared to be hurt again. Maybe you could let Changbin in, maybe he was different. 

The hug lasted longer then you thought, his eyes darting all over the stuffy room before he slowly let go, taking a long inhale of the almost addictive smell. The two of you locked eyes, a shy red tinged his cheeks that was only visible due to there being a spotlight just above him. 

“can i talk to you for a second?” you asked, rather boldy which was odd. He nodded and grabbed your wrist only to pull you in behind the same black door where you once ended up in, confused and dazed. He let go of you and closed the door behind him, you standing in the middle of the room that now had tiny light standing on the floor, nothing more new then the same old shelfs and black leather couch. 

“what did you wanna talk about?,,, figured you maybe wanted to tell me somewhere more quiet”

‘Quiet’ was an overstatement, the music was making the walls shake and even though it was muffled the jumping of hundreds of people could still be heard in the small dark room where you were alone, with him. 

“ehm,,, i don’t know really,,,” you stammered, not knowing what else to say.

“is something wrong y/n? Do you need to be alone for a while? i can le-”

“no, thank you,,, i just wanna be with you.” You interrupted him, his eyebrows furrowing when you uttered the last sentence. He stepped closer to you, the soles of his shoes making a pleasant sound against the floor. You lifted your gaze at him, Changbin standing right in front of you. Beauty that could make you drool. His hair was slightly messy, temples sweaty as he had worked and fetched all kinds of bottles for hours, the grey apron marking his title in the nightclub.

“but i’m here with you! Are you playing some sort of prank on me? did chan set this up?” he chuckled with a smirk, throwing a gaze at the door before diverting it back to your glossy eyes.

“n-no,,, Changbin, I want you”

His mind went blank and so did yours.

You don’t know why you said that but it was too late. The cat was out of the bag. It was too late.

“y/n? are you drunk?” he asked, looking at you seriously and putting the back of his hand against your forehead, suspecting you might be getting sick. You shook your head in response.

“no, it was only one drink, you know? i just,,, kinda,, want you”

You grabbed his hand that was still lingering on your forehead and drew it closer to your heart, holding firmly by his wrist. The clothed valleys of your breasts made contact with the rough palm of his hand, Changbin’s eyes still glued to yours. He scoffed loudly.

“and here i was,,, thinking it was some sort of unrequited love”

It felt like his hand turned into thorns, stinging your heart. So he wanted you too. 

Changbin’s hand that rested on your boob snaked upwards, grabbing your jaw as he smiled at you briefly, tilting his head and slowly closing his eyes, attaching his rough lips on yours. Your eyes widened before they closed slowly, eyelashes fluttering in a flirty haze. This was how it felt to kiss someone you loved. It was as if a thousand fireworks ignited inside your beating heart, flying and exploding in an array of colors. A pure lightshow. 

Your hands made their way to Changbin’s angular face, cupping his cheeks and feeling his sharp cheekbones against the palms of your hands. Your noses accidentally bumped into each other as your heads tilted from left to right, a sensual pace to the kiss to which the dark haired boy chuckled, adding some laughter to the otherwise grave situation that contained the sounds of two lips smooching each other. The music was only adding to the ambiance, Changbin’s hands wandering and exploring territory on your body that was foreign to him but very well-known to you. Your wet tongues danced around to a serenade, his kiss was strong, sure to leave an unforgettable impression on you. You would want him from now on and forever. 

You moaned into the kiss as his hands rested on your ass, groping the flesh that was covered by your pyjamas-shorts. This made Changbin cock his eyebrow, pieces of his slicked back hair falling into his face as making him look like a charming 80′s prince. His fingers danced around the elastic band of your pants, fingers hooking and playfully tugging on the string, a silent plea for you to take them off. You smiled against his lips, saliva exchanging in a heavy and steamy kiss, your cheeks growing warmer by the second. 

The two figures melted into one as Changbin pulled you closer to his body, feeling his cock poke through the coarse material of his jeans against your lower abdomen. Good to know that he was enjoying this as much as you were. Your hands descended downwards, traveling along his black tight t-shirt, the jean jacket from earlier being god knows where. The contour of his abs made you smirk, you knew what he was hiding beneath these clothes that you ravenously wanted to tear up. You palmed him through his pants, earning a hiss from the male that panted heavily into the kiss. 

You broke the kiss, taking a moment to breathe as your lips were separated by a lonely string of saliva. You grabbed Changbin’s wrist, pushing him down on the leather couch as you straddled his lap, feeling his hard-on against your aching wet cunt. You wanted him so bad and here he was, in front of you for only you to devour. Changbin grabbed onto your hips, pinning them down against his cock and leaning forward to reattach his lips on yours, teeth  accidentally clicking against each other moments before your sloppy hot tongues met, feeling his tongue against the soft surface of yours. The sound of lips meeting ringed through your ears, your hips grinding against Changbin’s crotch in a steady pace, feeling your neediness grow. Your hands ran along his abdomen, sneaking them up inside his shirt and tugging on the black material of his t-shirt, pulling it above his head. What was hiding underneath his clothes was more than a pleasant surprise. Your lips moved swiftly against his jawline, peppering kisses on his delicate neck as your hands teased the supple skin of his abdomen, feeling the outline of his muscles against your touch. 

Changbin placed his hands near your stomach, pulling your oversized sleeping shirt over your head in the same fashion you did moments earlier. You gasped as the fabric danced over your now hardened nipples, freeing your tits. Of course you didn’t wear a bra when you were in the comfort of your own home but you didn’t think anyone would actually undress you, especially not Changbin. He hummed at the sight, cupping your tits in his hands that were covered in metal rings, feeling the coldness against your heated skin. You shuddered, the sensation shooting down to your dripping core. He kneaded them in his hands as you rubbed against his cock, his boner having a visible outline through his pants, you couldn’t help but to fiddle with his belt buckle, undoing it and hearing the clicking sound of the buckle hitting itself. Changbin pulled away from your swollen lips, tapping you on the thigh to step off in order for him to pull his pants down. You moved to the seat next to him on the couch, the leather sticking back as you laid down, lifting your hips up to remove your pyjama pants along with your panties that quickly hid underneath the fussy pants due to it’s rather interesting print, small teddy bears printed on the fabric. You kicked off your shoes, more like slippers that you wore indoors. 

Changbin swiftly pulled down his jeans and black boxers in one motion, throwing them close to your pile of clothes at the base of the couch. Your eyes widened, mouth watering at the pure sight of his cock, a pretty bead of precum decorating his slit, contrasting with the crimson shiny tip. A big gulp descended down your esophagus, heat tinging your cheeks. He chuckled from seeing you stare at his member with shiny doe eyes that reflected in the small lamp on the floor.

“You seem,,, intrigued” he chuckled to which you giggled, not believing that you were really in this small room together with him. 

“Y-yeah,,, maybe I am” you snarked, moving your gaze to his eyes and smiling. Only on your way upwards his well-sculpted body did you see the boy holding a small blue plastic item. You furrowed your eyebrows when Changbin opened the packet, retrieving a slightly slippery condom from inside. 

“Do we even need that?” you laughed before continuing. “I mean if nothing gets transferred to the real world neither should pregnancies or STD’s” 

Changbin tsked, rolling the condom onto his veiny cock, turning slightly away from you to avoid your intense eyes. 

“Ask Chan, he would know” Changbin said, turning back to you and making his way over to the couch.

“N-no,,, no way.” You shook your head, your mouth agape as your eyes still danced over Changbin’s buff thighs. 

“Yup, knocked up a girl” he said, suppressing a laugh. “And that’s why y/n, you never think with your dick”.

“Being completely honest,,, I expected more from Chan, he seems really,,, responsible” you remarked, Changbin hovering over you and placing a soft kiss on your lips, his hands on either side of your figure.

“He is but I think love is his weak spot or more like,,, lack of love. He often confuses love with either sex, money or fame,,, might I even say drugs.” 

You simply nodded not knowing what more to add to the conversation, Changbin’s fingers tracing small circles around your nipples, sneaking them down between your legs where your cunt was aching after him. Anything, as long as it was him. His middle- and ring finger dipped into your heat, feeling the wetness between your folds causing you to hold on to Changbin’s sturdy shoulder. Without warning his fingers entered your dripping hole, fingers curling upwards and grazing your g-spot. You flinched, feeling his cold metal rings against your clit. The dark haired boy shushed, reassuring you that you were in safe hands and that he would make you feel good. Nothing else mattered besides you. 

His fingers grazed your velvety walls, thrusting up into your cunt with just enough vigor to make you clutch to his bicep, the firm muscles making you swoon. You whined, spreading your legs even wider, your left leg hanging over the leather couch, sticking to your thigh as your body was heating up from arousal. The wet sounds of Changbin’s fingers playing with your cunt along with your soft whimpers were louder than the music outside, you pressing your head back onto the couch, rubbing your hair on the material. Changbin licked his plump lips upon seeing your face contorting into all kinds of lewd facial expressions, his cock needing to feel your warmth wrapped around it. The pad of his thumb played with your clit, laying it flat against the nub and teasing it in small circles causing tears to prickle in the corners of your shut eyes. 

“a-are you alright y/n?” he whispered softly in your ear, kissing the shell of your ear. You nodded, your hands cupping your tits, pinching your hardened nipples, adding pleasure and heat to the burning in your core. Changbin pulled out his fingers, putting the slick covered digits in his mouth and watching you with hawk eyes as he lapped up your juices, humming in delight. 

“fuck you taste so good angel” he stated, making you blush, covering your face with your hands. Changbin chuckled, tapping the tip of his dick against your swollen clit and aligning himself with your entrance. You moaned from the sensations, wrapping your legs around him to pull him in, you growing impatient the more he teased. 

“p-please fuck me Changbin” you said uttered in a faint voice, barely audible due to the music. It was as if his eyes tinged with a dark color, full of lust. His eyes were hooded, looking down at you with half closed lids, sighing loudly with sexual frustration. He wanted to destroy you, make you his but he had to hold onto his composure. Holding you firmly by your hips he slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside you, grunting at the warmness that comforted him. You hissed, biting the inside of your cheek, your nose scrunching up at the feeling of being stretched out by his girthy length. 

“can I go all the way? does it feel alright?” he asked. You answered with a small “yes”, more worried about the door being unlocked, anyone could burst through the door in seconds only to witness Changbin fucking you on the couch. That thought was quickly wiped from your mind as his cock stuffed into your cunt, your eyes rolling back into your skull as he slowly thrusts into you, using the hands on your hips as a way to guide him, nailing your cervix with each movement. The tips of his ears turned red, the silver chain around his neck reflecting on the dim light in the room as it rocked back and forward above you. You placed your hands around his wrists, looking boldly into his eyes with, a feeling brewing inside you that was hard to describe. It was titillation mixed with yearning. You knew you got him here. He was safe in your arms. You wanted to save him from everything bad in this world but how is that possible when you can’t even save yourself?

“c-changbin” you said in broken syllables, his thrusts only quickening. “changbin!” you repeated, shutting your eyes tightly, curling your toes in pleasure as a string of pretty moans melodically fell from your mouth along with his name. You couldn’t take it, his cock ramming into you in a both mindful and eager manner causing you to claw at his forearms, nails digging into the soft skin. Your tongues were once again caught in a kiss, the taste of your tongue being irresistible to the boy but not sure if it was your love that was drawing him in or the subtle taste of liquor from earlier. His lips felt parched against your, his tongue gliding on your bottom lip before kissing it, his saliva feeling hot in your mouth. The boy above you pulled away for a moment.

“you’re so pretty like this y/n,, fuck, i think i love you”

You gulped but your silence was soon cut off from Changbin slamming his hips against yours, his cock hitting your that specific spot that made you go crazy, the familiar feeling of your orgasm penting up inside you. You moaned with desperation, the lewd sounds bouncing off the dark colored walls. This was music for Changbin’s ears. His grunts accompanied by your whimpers and the squelching sound of your walls engulfing his dick so tightly, the sounds alone was heaven for him. With every move against your body you felt the well-acquainted smell of cigarettes that you could almost feel in your lungs, an addictive scent. 

“i love you too, Changbin” you mumbled, slurring on your words from nervousness, feeling shy even though you were naked in front of him. He smiled, peering down at you as his hair fell from it’s perfect gelled state. You smiled softly at him, his cheeks slowly turning a red that matched his lips. Your moans turned to borderline screams, his cock twitching inside of you as he slowly got closer to his sweet release. Clenching around him, Changbin grabbed bent your legs towards you, gently rolling his head backwards as the pace got quicker. 

“i’m g-gonna cum! don’t stop!” you yelped, your heart thumping at the speed of light, tiny sweat droplets forming on your forehead. Changbin reached so deep inside of you causing you to thrash around, fiercely trying to grip to the edges of the couch. The burning in your core got intense, it felt as if a thousand stars were falling at the same time, bursting with amativeness. The sudden feeling of warmth took over your body, a pleasant tingle surging. A breathy moan leaving you stunned, grabbing onto Changbin’s hands that were pushing your knees towards you. Just as your orgasm washed over you like a ton of bricks falling to the ground, your body jolted with the last couple of powerful thrusts, a loud gasp slipping from his lips. His girthy cock released it’s seed into the condom, his hot breath lingering near you. 

He let go of your quivering legs, them flopping down on either side of him. Your chest heaved up and down as you breathed through your parted lips. Changbin pulled off, carefully removing the condom and discarding it somewhere on the floor. He snuggled close to you on the narrow couch, pressing his sweaty body against yours, taking a moment to catch his breath before speaking.

“So you love me too?” he chuckled. You turned to face him, looking deep into his dark brown eyes that looked pitch black in the dim light. After a loud exhale you answered him.

“No, I think I can’t live without you” you whispered, rubbing the tip of your nose against his. His stable breath tickled against your chin, your eyes slowly closing as Changbin was observing your features that he found insanely attractive. And it was even more attractive that you were his. But this couldn’t last.

“You know this is not possible y/n” he said with sadness in his voice as he gulped, his adams apple protruding. You knew it, the thing you dreamt of wasn’t possible since the two of you didn’t exist in each other's worlds. 

“I feel fucking stupid” you said with closed eyes, sighing after your words. Changbin shook his head. 

“Don’t give up that easily y/n, we can try”. He was right but what relationship was only visible in the darkness of a nightclub? Only a promiscuous one. Yet, you didn’t want to give up. Not matter what kind of relationship it was you wanted to be with him. 

“So,,, what does that mean? That we are-”

“Dating, I guess” he added shortly, the corner of his lips lifting upwards. It sounded weird in your ears. Dating someone you had only met a couple of times but it felt right. This was where you belonged. In his arms, away from all your demons. He truly cared for you, not like the others. He was unlike those in your life that said that they cared but never wanted to know more than the surface level of your character. He wanted to know everything about you. Your hurt, your sorrows, your pain but also your happiness, your joy and your solace. He wanted to know you. 

Your hands trailed up and down his upper arms, his skin feeling soft against your touch. The two of you cuddled like this for a while, Changbin running his hands along your hair, its smell reminding him of a green meadow of millions of flowers in all shapes, colors and sizes. He didn’t want to leave but if he wasn’t back in the bar the boys would start looking for him and the last thing he wanted was 7 boys teasing him for getting it on. You were more than a hookup. More than just a fling. 

Changbin stood up, squinting his eyes in order to look for his clothes and finding them scattered all over the room. He pulled his underwear and jeans over his lower body before pulling his shirt over his top half, the black t-shirt sitting snugly around his muscles. He ran a hand through his dark hair, shaking his head before smirking at you. Such a tease. 

“Do you have to leave?” you asked with a whiny voice, your arms felt empty once again. He nodded.

“i’m afraid so, don’t want them thinking I've been transported back without them knowing, they get worried but that’s only natural I guess.” 

You nodded back, putting your cheek against the leather on the seat, your arm hanging straight down, the back of your hand limp against the floor. 

“Get dressed if you want to have some more fun or you can chill here for a moment but I have to warn you, that door doesn’t have a lock” Changbin said, pointing at the only door in the room. 

“i’ve already noticed that” you remarked, grabbing your panties and only after you’ve pulled them halfway up your thigh did you see Changbin smirking at you.

“You’re cuter than I thought” he said, pointing at your teddy bear panties with his chin, stepping closer to you. You looked away, biting your lip in embarrassment as you felt his hand on your hair, ruffling it sloppily. 

“You’re making fun of me!” you said back with a pout, pulling your pyjama pants over your bottom. 

“yeah, because you’re adorable” he said, placing a peck on your lips. You wanted more of him. He was simply addictive. 

But not even this universe wanted to see you two together.

Your eyelids got heavier, your eyebrows furrowing at the familiar yet distant feeling. It felt unknown until you saw the small specks clouding up your vision once again. 

“y/n? y/n, how are you?” Changbin said with worry, grabbing you by your shoulders and looking at your apathetic gaze. “N-no, y/n, don’t leave now”

You didn’t want to but you didn’t decide when you left. 

You harshly held Changbin in your arms, putting your forehead against his shoulder, rubbing against it. Changbin slowly put his hands around you, patting your back as salty tears rolled down your warm cheek, putting wet stains on his shirt. 

“shh,,, it’s ok y/n, are you feeling dizzy?” he asked carefully to which you nodded mellowly, your bottom lip quivering as the multicolored boxes of light flashed before your eyes. The room felt unstable, like your legs wouldn’t hold you much longer and they didn’t when you collapsed into Changbin’s arms, him holding you tightly to his chest as your knees buckled. Your voice was unstable, a silent cry pleading to be heard.

“I love you” you whispered in a frail voice. The ear-deafening music from outside was tuning out from your hearing, your words slurring at the end as you repeated yourself for the last time. 

“I love y-you”

Changbin was left hugging air, his arms empty as he opened his sparkling eyes. He was close to tears because he was left there. Without you. 

“HEY! WHERE IS- oh” 

Jisung burst through the black door, the six other boys standing close behind him as they looked around the room, eventually catching eye contact with Changbin.

“She went home” Changbin said softly, letting his arms fall to the sides. Jisung inched closer to him, patting him on the shoulder where your tears were still left as a souvenir of your love. 

“She’ll come back, don’t worry about it” Jisung said with a reassuring smile, leading Changbin to the door, out of the room that smelled like sex and tenderness.

“Euw,, what is this doing here? Does nobody know how to clean up?” Felix said pointing at the used condom on the floor. Changbin’s face went cold, stopping dead in his tracks. 

“is it yours or something Changbin?” Hyunjin laughed, pushing the youngest, Jeongin, in a fit of laughter. 

The room went quiet after Hyunjin’s cold laughter. It was pretty obvious.

“YOU FUCKED HER?” Jisung screamed in Changbin’s ear, making him flinch away and holding his ear in pain. The room filled with all sorts of teasing sounds, everything from “ooh~" to “AYE” in obnoxious voices. 

“Luckily he used a condom!” Minho snarled, glancing over at Chan that was ready to beat Minho into pulp. Chan sighed, regretting that he didn’t shove the condom in Minho’s smirky face. 

“No but seriously you guys, y/n is more than you think. It’s not just another person I fucked, she actually means something to me.” 

Just when Changbin thought he had something special some of the boys started laughing even harder, ruffling his hair and poking his cheeks.

“yeah right,,, what? are you guys dating or something?” Seungmin asked, rolling his eyes.

“yes, i’m serious you guys! I love her,,,” he said with a frown, already missing your touch.

“What idiot gets into a relationship 3 months before they have to go to rehab?” Minho says, retrieving a cigarette from the red packaging in the pocket of his leather jacket. 

Oh fuck. 

Rehab.

When someone recovers from their pain is when you disappear from the club. You are no longer a lost soul. You are no longer lost within yourself. And that’s when you return to the real world, your real world. 

Keeping secrets in a relationship was deceitful in Changbin’s eyes. If you belong to someone you should be as transparent as the liquor he poured into his ice cold glass every evening. He felt guilty. You poured your heart out for him, telling him everything that had hurt for so many years and here he was, pretending. He did that a lot, mainly because he was taught to be a reliable man. It wasn’t manly to feel. 

Which is why he left his home at a young age. He didn’t care if he worked a minimum wage job and lived in a destitute area, he was content as long as he didn’t live with his parents. But when you live alone it’s not rare that isolation creeps up on you and strokes your cheek with a feather light touch, inviting you over to a dance with the demons that would soon cloud up your mind. Alcohol was Changbin’s comfort. It was the only one that didn’t fail to reassure him. It was as if the bottles spoke to him, promising him that a life intoxicated was better than the life he was currently living. 

And he fell for it.

Every time.

He couldn’t take it anymore, he wanted to live a life that is actually worth living. Change comes from within but he needed help and he had only recently realized that he had a problem, that these toxic liquids were what’s keeping him from chasing the dream life. He didn’t dream of much, just the average life would be more than enough, with someone he loved. 

But what was he supposed to do?

Take the step to recover or continue his addiction for the sake of being with you?

The demons whispered softly in his ears.

Life or Love?

Taglist ; @minholuvs @liz820​ @skztrashbag @lix-freckle3​ 

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙀𝙉𝘿. ҂ 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢

request:

Hi!! Idk if you’re taking requests rn lol but I was wondering if you can write a clay imagine? It can be smut or anything lol

pairing: dream x fm!reader

warnings: nsfw (18+ minors dni), smut, calling dream clay, cliche apocalypse au, blood, kinda sad ngl

word count: ~3000

links: ao3

a/n: Hi everyone. I have no idea what this is, but if you like it let me know! I was struggling with coming up with something for dream but here we are on a crackpot tangent. N E WAY, thank you for all your support and requests! Have a great week and happy reading ♡ ᵍᵉⁿᵉ

Soapy bubbles clung to your arms as you pressed your hands into the hot water, sighing as you reached the bottom of the sink. You didn’t care about the murky discoloration of the water from the stack of dishes you had just polished off. You attempted to let the stress of your day roll off your shoulders to mix into that same water. Call it a baptism, but the solace you got standing before the sink, pouring your emotions into the dark, louring water was comparable to nothing. The radio buzzed with slight static as the station attempted to break through the heavy interference.

That was until three long pulses echoed over the station, making your skin crawl as if an unseen force were intruding on your alone time. You stood up straighter, water dripping down your arms and splashing on the linoleum floor beneath you as you listened to the grizzled news broadcaster read from an obviously unedited announcement. The world outside of your apartment seemed to still, silence echoing through the streets where shrilling sirens lived only moments before.

“Breaking news… NASA has just verified that the mystery asteroid is, in fact, in danger of crashing into the Earth… As of this moment-” His voice cut out, your radio buzzing into static. In a panicked effort, you vaulted across your kitchen, slipping on the dishwater in the process as you tumbled to the ground. Before the pain could set in, you climbed to your feet, smacking your hand atop of the radio. It finally crackled back to life as you twisted at the dials feverishly. “... three days. To repeat, there is a countdown on the NASA website… take shelter when the time nears.”

Your ears rang alongside the three pulses to indicate the message was over. You were in denial, figuring there was no way this asteroid was actually going to obliterate the Earth. Surely, it was a joke. Everyone had been making memes of the space rock since it was picked up on NASA’s radar a month prior. Surely, this was just a test.

You waited for the city to come back to life, but everything remained still. After everything you’d all been through in the last year, an asteroid was going to be the end.

A sharp and urgent knock hammered against your door, making you jump a few feet in the air. Before you could move to see who it was, the person was already through the threshold. You peered around the corner of the kitchen and down the hall, your gaze meeting a pair of dark green irises. Clay’s towering figure stalked toward you, his eyes brimming with tears and panic. He pulled you into his embrace rather hurriedly, as if he’d been itching to wrap around you before he broke down.

The hint of cologne clouding the air around the two of you suggested that he was on his way out. As your hands followed their muscle memory to grip onto his clothes, he dug his face into the crook of your neck. It was becoming clear that even if you weren’t responding to your best friend’s need, he was going to take it from you.

He pulled away from you slightly. Your mind had gone completely silent as he looked at you, his attention struggling to focus on one part of your face. Your body felt numb and your tongue had gone dry. His gaze traveled towards the ground and he stepped back slightly, worry spreading across his features as he clamped his hand around your forearm.

“Why are you bleeding? What happened?” His voice cracked slightly as he dug into the drawer beside you to find a towel. You furrowed your brows before finally catching sight of the blood seeping from your arm and between his fingers. His hand was large enough that it nearly served as its own bandage.

He tugged you behind him towards your bathroom. “I fell…” You mumbled, your mind now racing with questions. Why couldn’t you feel the cut? Or his hands? He pushed you upwards to sit on the bathroom counter, his crimson hands shaking slightly as he rinsed them off. Your fingers tightened around the towel holding your wound together. As he focused on the task before him, he seemed to calm down ever so slightly. He rolled his head on his shoulders and took a deep breath to steady himself as fished through your First Aid kit.

“I was on my way to Nick’s and I heard the news. I’m…” He brought his arm up slightly to brush away a few tears against his shoulder. He pulled open a package with his teeth. You watched him carefully as he worked to clean you up. His blond locks hung over his eyes, curling around his ears and twisting about as he focused and you could almost hear his mother’s voice telling him he needed a haircut.

Your chest ached. “Clay, I think I’m having some kind of a breakdown,” you mumbled, your own eyes prickling with tears as he looked up at you quickly. Usually, you were the one that kept it together. It had been like that since the two of you were teenagers. Despite the fact that Clay’s tall, muscular stature gave off the appearance of an intimidating being. In actuality he always let his emotions get the best of him, leaving you in charge of being the rational one.

But as he patched up your arm and struggled not to fall apart, the reality was settling in to weigh heavily on your shoulders.

He began to talk softly to you---much like you usually did for him---making sure his touches were delicate and slow. While his hands were coarse from years of football and building decks with his dad in the summers when the two of you were younger, they were so tender when dealing with you. He cradled you as if you would break at the slightest flex of his finger.

“Why didn’t you just go to Nick’s?” You asked him once he’d finished bandaging your arm and had begun rewashing his hands. The scarlet water in the sink looked almost surreal after you’d been staring so long at the caliginous dishwater. He rested his hands on the edge of the sink, his eyes flashing up to look at himself in the mirror before chewing on the inside of his cheek.

Your hand traveled up his arm, his skin warm beneath your touch as you tugged on his bicep to bring him closer to you. He moved to wrap you in his embrace once again, his breath melding into your hair as his fingers closed around the fabric of your shirt. “I’d rather spend the end of the world with you,” he barely whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder softly.

You pulled away from him gently, his forehead moving to rest against your own. One of his hands moved to brush into your hair, his fingers finding purchase against your neck. The familiar smell of smoky vanilla and sage seeped into your mind at his closeness. You thought about your first kiss shared in “the name of science,” after you turned fourteen. Clay had been so awkward in his body at that time; his hair shaggy, stretch marks along his knees from his growth spurt, and a growing realization that you were in fact, a member of the opposite sex.

The Clay before you, even in his state of anguish and anxiety, stood with a cockiness that that Clay couldn’t have even dreamt of. His thumb glossed over your jaw, his eyes cast down as if his mind was wreaking havoc on his movements. Cautiously, you leaned towards him, sealing the space between the two of you as your lips pressed against his. The air of catastrophe seemed to dissipate around you as he pulled you tighter against him. The taste of mint and a faint whisper of fruit from the gum he always chewed blended against your tongue. Your arms moved to wrap around his waist, wanting him pressed to you as close as he could be.

He wrapped his hands around your thighs, pulling you up and into his arms as he made his way to your bedroom. As your back hit the mattress, Clay’s lips were back on yours, your fingers slipping beneath the hem of his shirt to tug the fabric over his head. You sighed as he hesitated before nipping at the skin of your collarbones, his tongue ghosting against any mark that formed on your skin from his teeth. You drove your hands into his hair, your fingers locking around the slight curls forming. He pushed your shirt off and you wiggled out of your sweatpants.

His hips dug into yours, the friction bringing a lazy smile to your face as you bit your lip. You tugged on his hair, making him moan into your ear to mix with his motions. “I want you, Clay,” you stated, your voice falling from your lips in a slightly deeper tone, your breathing uneven with passion. He moved to look into your eyes, pausing for a moment before his hand slid between your waistband and your hip to remove your underpants. It was clear that even as the timer clicked away the minutes the two of you had together, you wanted to savor him. If the world ended now as the two of you were in each other’s embrace, you would be fulfilled.

He smirked slightly at your words, his lips finding your neck once again. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear that,” he moaned, pressing a kiss behind your ear. He slunk down to press his lips against your stomach, moving slowly up your body to bury his face in your hair, grinding his hips against yours. You fought not to roll your eyes as you hooked your fingers through his belt loops, pulling his pants off. He pressed his lips against yours, humming into the kiss as you wrapped your leg around one of his. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, grinding against him.

As Clay pushed himself into you, your whole body relaxed as if he were made for you. He dug his face into the crook of your neck, letting you adjust to him. You hummed slightly, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as he began to move. He gripped the edge of the mattress beside your head as he leaned his weight on his forearm, the angle bringing your thigh to rest against his side. You wrapped your arm around his shoulder, bringing your hips up to move with his. “You’re so beautiful…” he mumbled, his lips brushing against your collarbones again as his thrusts into you became deeper.

You began to feel every inch of him in you as his hips ground against yours. Clay’s lips left yours to press against your jaw and your ear, one of his hands interlocking with yours, binding the two of you further together in the act. It was his carefulness of your forearm that sent a shock wave through your body as you were bitterly reminded that instead of a lifetime of cherishing moments like this, the two of you were cursed into his disaster arc.

His hand pressed into the mattress, fingers curling around the sheets as you pulled him down to you again, his lips melding to yours. You groaned, finding your sweet spot as he did so, making him pick up his pace. His other hand pressed against the side of your neck, bringing your skin closer to his lips as he pressed open mouth kisses to the landscape of your neck, thrusting into you and making the tension in your body tighten with pleasure. Your arms moved to wrap around Clay’s torso, pressing your lips against his shoulder as he moved. Your toes curled as you finally reached your orgasm, calling out his name and feeling him release as well, riding out your pleasure.

As you laid beside him, he played with your fingers, the quietness between the two of you nearly comforting. There was almost the question of “what now” hanging in the air.

A knock came at your door once again, your heart dropping slightly at who the person could be. You shot a look to Clay before pulling on one of the discarded shirts and your shorts from earlier. Your apartment was cold after being in bed with Clay, the air nipping at your skin and sending a shiver down your skin. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the billboard beside your window had the countdown displayed in heavy red numbers. You swallowed your uneasiness and opened your door.

Nick stood before you, his eyebrows slightly perked at---what you could only assume---your unkempt appearance. He wet his lips briefly. “Dream’s here right?” He asked, peering over your head a bit. You silently opened your door completely, letting him inside. Clay came out of your bedroom, tugging a hoodie over his head that he had previously shoved in one of your drawers. As Nick eyed him, it seemed like he’d forgotten whatever serious matter he needed Clay for. Instead of the skittish expression, Nick’s face twisted into a knowingly smug quip.

Clay ran his fingers through his hair, moving down the hallway and into your kitchen. “What’s up?” He queried Nick. You followed the two of them as Nick began to ramble about the end of the world.

Your chest tightened at his words as you took a seat at your kitchen counter. Clay uncapped a beer, leaning on the marble across from you. “There’s a bunker nearby. It belongs to some random old guy but I know some people who can get us a spot,” Nick muttered almost as if he were worried your neighbors would hear and sabotage his plans. He looked between the two of you quickly. “I think it’s worth a shot.”

You watched Clay closely as he thought, his expression nearly blank due to his somberness. You could practically hear the clock ticking away outside as the red light began to seep into your apartment. Clay chewed the inside of his cheek. “What do you think?” He asked, suddenly breaking the deafening silence and turning to you. “I wanna go where you go.” He looked almost like a child as he said this, but you were grateful he wanted to be with you in the end.

You tore your eyes from him, focusing on the ring forming in your sink from the dishwater that you hadn’t had the opportunity to drain. Your mind raced with the possibility that Nick was offering. “What’s the worst that can happen? We’re dying anyway, right?” You responded wearily.

And that’s how you found yourself packed into an underground shelter, Clay’s body pressed against yours as nameless people crowded the dense area. Nick huddled against the two of you, the asteroid’s timer serving as a foreboding heartbeat as it reminded you all that these were the last moments of your life. Clay’s arm tightened around your shoulders as you buried your face in the softness of his sweatshirt. Your legs were going numb from sitting on the ground with your knees folded to your chest, but you didn’t dare move from his grasp. Nick’s side dug into your own as he attempted to shrug away from the hysterical woman beside him whispering to herself.

Only the mumbling of prayers and lamenting sobs broke up the lulling music playing over a small Ham radio resting on a bookshelf in the corner. The tune reminded you of an eerie scene in a movie from the ‘60s. As the song faded, a newscaster began to discuss the timer, wishing that everyone was with loved ones and had spent the last of their money.

And then the final ten seconds came. Your fingers threaded with Clay’s as he pressed a lasting kiss to your forehead.

“... Nine. Eight…”

Nick leaned into you. The two of you had never really been close, but on your journey to the bunker, he'd become a companion to you just as much as he was Clay's.

“... Seven. Six…”

You let your mind travel to your past, prom in particular. When Clay shut the skirt of your dress in his passenger door by accident. You were so mad at him for finding humor in the situation.

“... Five. Four…”

You thought about the week prior when you were considering skipping a lecture because you were tired. What you wouldn’t give to go back to the simplicity of problems like that.

“... Three. Two…”

You hugged Clay tighter to you, hoping that if you both got blasted into whatever kind of eternity was waiting, you’d land at the same time.

“... One.”

Everyone seemed to hold their breath, even the newscaster. The silence was painful as you all waited.

Clay and Nick moved quickly, looking around the room. You furrowed your brows at them, your grip tightening around the front of Clay’s sweater. “Do you hear that?” Clay stated, his voice coming out rushed. Nick nodded, watching as the rest of the men in the bunker began to talk amongst themselves. You couldn’t hear anything, worry settling.

“What?” You asked, barely above a whisper.

Clay pushed himself to sit up away from the wall, dragging you up with him. “How can you not hear that?” He urged mildly. Fear began to pick at your nerves as you noticed the same reactions filling the shelter. Nick stood up, following some of the other guys who heard whatever they were talking about. Clay slipped from your grasp. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered and you grabbed his hand. His eyes flashed a different color as he looked at you.

A few of the women followed the group, attempting to get their companion’s attention before one of them opened the shelter door.

[buckybarnesdiaries]

; i'm coming home

© gif credits to the author, i found it on google. if you own it, send me a message with your @.

bucky barnes x reader ⎢ masterlist.

bucky and you met six years ago in romania, but he disappeared. now, he's back.

word count: 1.8k.

warnings/tags: none.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

requests are open.

Six years had passed since the last time he was with you, before disappearing overnight. He didn't give you any explanation, he didn't even leave a note. He needed to protect you, but he also knew how stubborn you were and that you wouldn't let him take that decision for both. So Bucky simply left, breaking your heart in one thousand pieces. You wanted to understand his reasons, but you couldn't. He promised you eternal love, a life together, moving out of New York —maybe to a remote place where anyone could recognize him and have peaceful days, without having to be worried about someone coming after him. About someone trying to hurt you.

Since the very first moment you met in Romania, Bucky fell in love with you. Sometimes you still remembered how he started talking to you in Romanian, guessing you were from there until you laughed and replied in English. The next few weeks were like a daydream. Walks, romantic dates, nights of stargazing. Then, you came back to New York and kept in touch by letters, as in the forties or fifties. Until one day. Your friends invited you to a museum and what you discovered there was unbelievable. James, your James, was Captain America's best friend. And he was supposed to be dead.

You wrote to him. You told him you knew it. You told him you didn't care, that you could figure out how to escape from that situation. Together. But he never sent you a letter back. You weren't able to forget him after all that time, still sleeping every night with his red shirt, stupidly fantasizing about the idea of Bucky coming back to you. And your hopes increased when you watched him on TV. The Avengers found him and, even if you tried to contact them somehow to defend your James, you never got it. Nobody believed you, not even when you showed them the letters, not the only picture you conservated of both of you in Bucharest. You prayed to God to help him. You begged God to the world seeing him as you did.

But when Bucky was released on parole, he never tried to look for you. He did know you lived in New York and, with his resources, he'd have known in less than five minutes. One year had passed, and you ended up losing the most minimal hope wrapping your heart. All those things he told you once, were just lies. Lies to inventing a parallel life until you left Romania. Only replying to your letters to have something to lean on for his own good. That's what he demonstrated to you.

bucky's pov

Like every night since he earned part of his freedom, Bucky stared at the windows of your apartment, from the opposite sidewalk hidden behind a tree. Like a ghost. Like he was trained to see but not be seeing. Every night, he wanted to cross the road, call to your door, kiss you, hug you, feel your touch and your love —hold you, and never let you go again. But he knew it was risky, he knew he had to wait for the right time. And it came. Tonight it came. His year of therapy had ended and he was free. Bucky was free to come back home.

He had been watching you since it started, making sure you were safe and sound. He also was aware that you never rebuilt your life with another man, that you tried to find him. That you slept every night with his shirt. Bucky was also aware of all the times you cried for him, that you always walked the same way from your job to your apartment expecting to meet him in some street close to it. He knew you better than you knew yourself.

Taking a deep, deep breath, keeping his hands inside the pockets of his coat, the soldier put a step on the road. The first step to happiness. And then, no one could stop him. He continued to the front door of the building, not needing more than a push to open it. Third floor, fifth door at the right of the corridor. Bucky licked his bottom lip nervously, swallowing as he took a master key from one of his pockets and a small metallic stick to force the lock of your house. He needed to be fast and stealthy, ringing the bell wasn't an option for very obvious reasons. Breaking into the apartment, he closed the door quietly behind his back.

The lights were all turned off a couple of hours ago when you went to sleep, after sitting on the window of your living room waiting for someone who wasn't going to show up, as every night for the last six years. The whole place smelled sweet like you used to. Bucky never forgot your scent, using it as the encouragement he needed to continue fighting for his freedom, for a life together. Now, his heart was racing so quickly that the whole city could hear his beats.

Slowly, he toured the entrance, the living room, the hallway straight to your dorm. The door was half-closed. Not a single noise coming from the inside. Bucky walked towards it, pushing it in slow motion, trying to not wake you up. And if he knew before that could be that easy to watch you sleep —for creepy that it sounded— he would have watched you every night since he landed in New York.

Bucky wasn't sure about what to do. If he should wake you up, if he should let you sleep and come the next day after you finished your work. When he wanted to realize, he was running the nail of his index finger on your soft cheek. Your skin was still warm, which meant you fell asleep crying again. And that broke his heart, his soul. Being conscious of all the pain and the suffering he made you being through all that time was killing him from inside. And he wished he could have handled your relationship in another way. But there wasn't another way without you being collateral damage of his past.

Bucky was about to leave when he suddenly felt a hit to his collarbone, stumbling to the bed. He didn't have time to react when your right leg was beneath his cold arm and pinning down his neck, as your left leg was laced around it. Your hand gripping his wrist, immobilizing him, pointing at him with a loaded gun between your free fingers. Your breathing became erratic, your pulse was beating faster than ever, but you were ready to shoot if the occasion required it.

In the middle of the gloom you glimpsed at those deep oceanic blue eyes you had been craving to look at for years. The same eyes on the picture on your nightstand. It has to be another dream. Another nightmare where Bucky came to tell you that everything was going to be okay. But his touch felt so real that it hurt like a million flames burning down your body to ashes. You were paralyzed. Your brain collapsed. In a very slow motion, James —your James— raised his right hand from the mattress to above his chest, bringing it to the gun aimed at his head. You couldn't stop him. You tried with all your strength. But the commands sent by your neurons never reached the finger supported against the trigger.

His flesh digits made their way to your trembling hand, as the tears started to sprout out from your eyes. Bucky took the weapon, not needing to ask you to release it, to put it away from the two of you.

“It's okay, draga mea, it's me…” He whispered with such an angelical and melodic voice, over your dolorous sobs. “May I, uh… get my arm back?”

Bit by bit, you obeyed as if it was some kind of polite order, loosening the grip around his arm and over his neck. Stepping back till your body collided with the headboard, you curled up your knees to your furious chest rising and falling, hiding your face between the gap of both. Your cry became louder, agonic, painful, ripping your throat.

“No— Not again… Not again, please… I c— can't”. You implored sorely.

Bucky didn't need to be a genius to understand you firmly believed it was just part of another of your dreams. Another of your nightmares. He sat upon your bed, coming closer to you and landing his cold metallic hand on the back of your head, urging you to raise it. You did. You did raise your burning face because of the tears falling, running down your cheeks. Your blurry gaze focused on his pale blue eyes, begging you silently to forgive him.

“I'm here… I'm back”. Bucky murmured, gently touring your skin until reaching a side of your neck, caressing your throat by using his thumb. “This is not a dream, draga mea. This is real”.

His intentions weren't to scare you, speaking to you with such a honeyed tone of voice as he shortened the distance between his body and your legs yet curled. You pouted unconsciously, watching him leaning above your legs to press his lips on the bridge of your nose. Slowly, fondly. Wanting to transmit to you that the flame of his love for you never went out. Resting his forehead against yours, your right hand flew straight to the back of his neck. You had never needed more than you needed him at that precise instant, trying to believe that that wasn't a trick of your subconscious.

“'M so, so sorry… I had to protect you… I had to protect you”. Bucky explained while closing his eyes, lacing his free fingers with yours. “But, uh… I know you still drink black coffee with mocha and a stick of cinnamon every Thursday. I know you… rent a book from the library and sit on the stairs in your free evenings… I know you sleep with this same shirt every night”.

Discovering he had been watching you all this time provoked your lips to shiver, as your cry became lower and your breathing was calmer. He guarded your days, in the shadows, till the right moment. And it came. Tonight was the right moment.

“I'm free. I'm not an enemy anymore… I'm not a target”. Bucky couldn't help but chuckle to hold back his own tears. “I'm so sorry”.

“Will you…? Will you stay now? With me?” At first, you doubted asking, being afraid of his response for a second.

“No one will ever set us apart again. No one”. He promised you, his heart speaking, telling the absolute truth. “Everything I told you in Bucharest; everything was true. And I… I want it”.

Bucky leaned forward enough inches to make disappear the less distance between both of you, pressing his lips in yours, tenderly caressing your jawline with his thumb as his tears met yours in the corner of your lips. Neither of you could believe that you were reunited after all these years, after all the pain, the loneliness. And like James, your James, said so: no one would ever set you apart again.

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[dothwrites]

15.19--freedom

“Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose/Nothing, don’t mean nothing if it ain’t free, no, no”--Janis Joplin

---

Freedom. 

Dean rolls the word around on the tip of his tongue and tastes how it feels. Freedom. 

It’s a strange concept, especially since he always assumed that he was. Ever since Apocalypse Version 1.0 was averted, Michael and Lucifer locked in the cage, thanks very much, he’s always assumed that he was the one calling the shots. No matter how badly he fucked up (and he fucked up a lot), he could at least take comfort in the fact that those were his choices. No one’s hand up Dean Winchester’s ass, no siree. 

And then Chuck came and ripped that certainty away from him in one quick motion and then...everything was suspect. Sam, Mom, Jack...Cas. Every word, every action, every emotion... He couldn’t trust anything, so he trusted nothing.

He still wakes up from nightmares with those words echoing in his head: You’re dead to me. He bolts upright, almost puking, because he can’t believe his past self, he can’t believe that those words came out of his mouth, to Cas, to Cas of all people--

He splashes water on his face and notices that his hand is shaking. His stomach churns in warning, but he doesn’t think he’s going to puke. However, he also doesn’t think he’s going back to sleep tonight. 

He and Sam are in the bunker, but he knows they won’t stay. It’s too empty now, their voices echoing through the halls and rooms. Maybe once, he would have been all right with that, would have even enjoyed it, but now, he can’t bear it. He remembers all too well how it felt to have Jack’s voice bouncing through the kitchen as he talked about the latest movie they had watched, or how it felt to just feel Cas behind him as he moved through the kitchen. 

Every time he makes his breakfast, he’s reminded of what he lost. Every time he and Sam come back to the bunker, there’s the sinking disappointment to find themselves alone once more. Dean ends up spending most of his days in his room because anywhere else freaks him out. He can’t stop whipping his head to look over his shoulder, halfway convinced that he’ll find someone standing behind him. He’s always disappointed when he finds himself alone. 

He and Sam are going to leave the bunker behind. He doesn’t know when and he doesn’t know what for, but he knows that it’s going to happen. 

He asks Sam one afternoon why he hasn’t left yet. Eileen is waiting for him, biding her time a hell of a lot more patiently than Dean would, and Sam still isn’t going to her and starting the American dream life. And one afternoon, Dean either runs out of fucks and gathers up his last little shreds of courage, and asks him. 

“So when are you going to move in with Eileen? I can’t imagine that she’s going to wait for your gigantor ass forever.” 

Sam looks at him from across the table. There’s a book open in front of him, but Dean doesn’t think that he’s read a word. He knows that he’s been stuck on the same screen on his phone for several minutes. Without the pressing urgency of saving the world, things just seem so...pointless. Which is not necessarily bad. But it means that he and Sam spend a lot of slow, lingering afternoons like this, with just the two of them wandering through the bunker and occasionally bouncing off of each other like two very faulty pinballs stuck in a malfunctioning machine. 

“She’s fine,” Sam says, which isn’t an answer. “She understands what’s happening.” 

Dean’s glad that someone understands because he surely has no fucking clue.

---

His life falls into a kind of routine. Wake up, make breakfast. Find pointless chores to do around the bunker. Make lunch. Watch some bullshit shows on TV. Make dinner. Have a beer. Fall asleep. 

He feels like the worst kind of retiree, devoid of purpose. 

Sure, there are occasional hunts, but he doesn’t feel the need to go on them. The world is turning, same as it always did, and there are other hunters in the world. If that’s one thing that he learned through these past years, it’s that he doesn’t have to do everything. 

(Plus, he and Sam literally defeated God, so he thinks they deserve some time off.)

The forced retirement doesn’t make him happy. The bunker is the cleanest that it’s ever been and he doesn’t feel happy about it. There’s a gaping hole in his chest that’s shaped like the rest of his family, and he can’t sleep at night. He makes dinner and all he can think about are the empty places at the table. 

Sam sticks his head into Dean’s room. It’s a regular day, though Dean doesn’t bother to note either the actual date or the day of the week anymore. Time blends together in an endless cycle of waking, chores, and sleeping, because without a purpose to hold him together, he’s slowly falling apart. 

“I’m going to head out,” Sam says. Dean notices that he doesn’t put a timeline on his departure. “You should get out too.” 

Dean raises his eyebrows but doesn’t ask the obvious question: Where would he go? Sam, slightly chagrined, scuffs his feet against the floor. “Maybe go see Jody, Donna, and the girls? See if Charlie and Stevie want a third on their hunt? Bobby said something about building up his library here.” 

“Yeah,” Dean says, with absolutely no intention of following through on any of those suggestions. He’s not quite wallowing in his own grief and filth (every time he tries to crawl back into a bottle, he just remembers the pinched look at the corners of Cas’ eyes whenever he would find Dean halfway through a bender, and that memory effectively nixes any desire he might have had to crawl into the nearest bottle), but he’s not exactly the poster boy for healthy coping strategies either. 

“Dean.” 

Dean hates that note in Sam’s voice, the oh-so-soft and sensitive tone that could soothe widows and lull children. He hates even more that it’s being turned on him, hates most of all that he derives comfort from it. 

“I don’t get it,” Dean finally says, because if Sam is leaving then he might be losing his chance to ask his question aloud. “I don’t get...I mean, Jack could have brought him back. He could have done it. I could have asked him. I was right fucking there, and I didn’t ask.” 

He’s dissected those moments in his head until there’s nothing left, and he’s forced to cobble them back together like some Frankenstein of memories just so he can take them apart all over again. Why didn’t he ask Jack to bring Cas back? Why didn’t Jack do it of his own free will? Jack knew how he much he needed Cas; hell, Jack brought him back once before when he wasn’t God. So why couldn’t he do it then, when Dean needed him the most? 

“I don’t know,” Sam says, still in that same soft voice. “Maybe...maybe it was like Mom? I mean, Cas made his choice. For better or worse, he made it, and maybe Jack thinks that we need to respect it?” 

A thick lump rises in his throat. Cas’ face replays in his nightmares, tear-stricken and yet smiling, peace and grief shining in his eyes. I love you. Like it was the easiest thing in the world to say at that moment. Like it was all he’d ever wanted to say. 

“I never...” Dean swallows, but he doesn’t manage to chase away the horrid feeling rising in his chest. “I never said it back to him, Sam. I never...all those times he said it to us, and I never...he died, thinking that no one loved him. The one thing I want, I know I can’t have, is what he said to me.” 

Dean doesn’t necessarily have a list of his regrets (there are too many to really list), but if he did, then he knows this would be at the top of it. Cas sacrificed himself, Cas let himself get taken, Cas died, and all to save someone who he believed didn’t love him back. 

How could he not know? 

Dean knows he’s not necessarily Mr. Subtle; he knows Sam knows. Their enemies damn sure have seemed to figure out through the years exactly where Dean’s heart lies. How could Cas, as brilliant as he was, as insightful, as compassionate as he was, not understand that Dean’s been lost on him, quite possible since the first time he walked through those barn doors? 

Sam’s face goes on a journey and it ends up at about the same place that Dean feels. Maybe now Sam understands why it’s so much effort for him to just make it out of his room. 

“He thought it was worth it,” Sam finally says. “Even if he thought...At the end, it was still worth it to him.” 

You were still worth it, is left unsaid, but Dean hears the echo nonetheless. There’s an accusation there which he doesn’t want to confront, but he has to nonetheless. 

“I can’t stay here anymore,” Sam finally says. “I can’t...” When he looks at Dean, his eyes are glistening. There’s a plea for understanding in his face. “There’s a whole world out there that I haven’t gotten to see since...since Stanford really. Since ever. I can finally go out there and walk around and not worry that something’s going to come after me. I can finally...” Sam rubs a corner of his shirt between his fingers. “You always said that I wanted a normal life, and I did, for a while. Then, when I figured that it was never going to happen, I stopped myself from wanting it, because what was the point? When everything we had got ripped away from us, what was the point of anything? But now...” 

“If you start now, then you can probably make Des Moines by night,” Dean offers. It’s all he can say, but it’s enough. 

Sam smiles, his eyes glassy. “I’ll call you when I get there.”

It’s not a goodbye, but it is. It’s the bonds of desperation and codependency snapping and shattering and reforming into something else. Dean doesn’t know how to love his brother in this new world. All he knows is that Sam deserves to live the life he’s deserved. 

Dean closes his eyes. 

When he opens them, Sam is gone.

---

That night, he goes up on the roof of the bunker. It’s cold, but not unbearable. There’s a light drizzle falling which strengthens to a gentle shower the longer he stays outside. 

Dean closes his eyes and looks up at the sky. Out here, the stars shine clearer than ever before, visible even through the rainclouds. 

He can’t help but think of Jack. His son. He can say those words now, acknowledge that Jack gave him everything he really wanted; the chance at a family, the chance to erase some of his father’s sins. Jack was gentle, he was kind, he was loving, he was theirs. And then he was gone. 

Cas, Jack, Sam...

“What am I supposed to do?” Dean asks the rain, the same wild pain rising up in his throat. “What am I supposed to do now?” 

---

He makes it back inside, damp and cold, and strips himself. He should shower, but he can’t be bothered, so he falls into bed naked and shivering. Not like it matters; no one is around to see him anyway. He falls into a fitful doze and is only awakened hours later by the soft sounds of someone moving around his room. 

He bolts upright, snatching his gun out from underneath his pillow, because old habits die never. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes as his heartbeat catches up with his adrenaline. “Sam?” he asks, and then, more tentatively, “Jack?” 

His desk lamp blazes into the life with a soft snap. Dean’s heart leaps into his throat. 

Cas smiles at him, the same as always, sadness always lurking in his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. Dean finally understands why he looks that way. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says. The sound of his voice sends shivers down Dean’s spine, but the hair on his arms doesn’t rise. Dean understands then. 

“This is a dream.” He lowers the gun. His heart slows to normal and disappointment is bitter in his mouth. “You’re not really here.” 

Cas’ mouth lifts in a lopsided smile. “It’s as real as you make it.” 

“Don’t fucking Dumbledore me,” Dean mutters. He rubs at his temples. Somehow, even lucid dreaming has lost its appeal. Talking to Cas isn’t appealing when he knows that he’s just talking to his own subconscious. 

“I fail to see what a fictional wizard of questionable sexuality has to do with this.” 

“Good to know that my subconscious has your sense of humor down.” Dean glares at Cas. “Why the fuck are you here, anyway? It’s a dick move, even for my brain.” 

“Maybe because I’m the person you want to see? I don’t know. It’s your head, not mine.”

“Yeah. No offense, but I think I’m just going to go back to sleep. Or wake up. I don’t know. Whatever it is, I don’t need to see you anymore. It’s just...It really hurts, all right?” 

“I’m not real, so you’re not really hurting my feelings.” 

“Good. Well, now that we have that sorted out.” Dean punches his pillow as a punishment for betraying him, before he turns back to Cas. “I miss you,” he says, because he’s weak and always has been. 

“Dean.” The sound of Cas’ voice always manages to make Dean stop and now is no different. He turns around and looks at Cas. 

Somehow, Cas looks more solid around the edges. The lines around his eyes are more pronounced, and if Dean turns his head at just the right angle, he thinks he can see grey silvering at Cas’ temple. 

“Sam was right,” Cas says. “I made a choice. That’s what this was all about, ever since the beginning. Making choices, running our own course, picking our own path.” 

“Yeah, thanks for rubbing it in,” Dean mutters. The last thing he needs is his subconscious reminding him that once again, Cas decided that he wasn’t good enough to stay with. 

“But that doesn’t mean that you can’t make a choice as well,” Cas continues, ignoring him. “There’s nothing to stop you. You can make whatever choices you want and take the consequences that come with them. And if you make the right choices, then maybe...” Cas bites his lip, looking almost nervous. “Then maybe I can make some choices too.” 

Dean opens his mouth to argue--Cas is dead, the time for making decisions has come and gone--but his subconscious is a dick, and before he can say anything, his dream fades away in a wash of black. 

---

Dean wakes up energized. His eyes open into the same room, but it’s different somehow. It’s ridiculous, because the bunker is underground, but it’s almost like he sees the sun shining through his windows. Even the air tastes different. For the first time in weeks, he gets out of bed without dreading every step away from his mattress. 

He glances at his phone. There’s a message from Sam along with a picture. In it, Eileen and Sam smile at the camera, their heads pressed together at the temple. There’s still a shadow of sadness in their eyes--they’ve all lost too much to be truly carefree ever again--but they look good. Happy. Whole. 

Cas’ words echo back at him, both from the dream and from those last, horrible, terrifying moments. 

Everything you did, you did for love. 

You can make a choice. 

Dean starts towards the library. 

---

It takes him three weeks of almost non-stop research to cobble together enough spells to make something that has the potential to work. This isn’t his strength; Sam is much more suited for this type of work, but he won’t bring Sam in on this. If this thing goes really damn badly, then it has the potential to wipe him off the face of the earth, goodbye Dean Winchester. If this thing does what he’s halfway expecting it to, which is nothing, then he’ll have gotten Sam’s hopes up for nothing. He’s not going to expose Sam to either danger or disappointment, not when Sam’s finally managed to get to some kind of happiness. 

If everything goes well...

Dean won’t let himself think about that. 

He spends two days smoothing out the kinks in the spell, double and triple checking his translations. He gathers his ingredients, and then spends another hour pacing around the library. His stomach is roiling, and his nerves are jittery. He can’t bear to stop, but he can’t bear to move forward. 

The memory of Cas’ smile spurs him into action. Cas went to his death a willing martyr for a man who he believed didn’t love him back. He can’t let that stand. If anything else, Cas has to know. 

The drive to Pontiac, Illinois takes him the better part of a day. The impala springs forward across the asphalt, almost like she’s eager to eat up the miles after her forced retirement. Dean pushes hard down on the gas pedal, urging her forward. One way or another, this is going to come to an end tonight. 

It takes him a while to find the barn. The last time he was here, he wasn’t in his right mind, still reeling from the horrors of Hell and the confusion of finding himself alive. He’d been scared and angry, lost and so very alone. And then an angel had walked through the door and told him that good things happened, that he deserved to be saved. The last little bit might have been a line fed to Cas by a bunch of dickhead superiors, but the sentiment behind it had stayed long after those superiors were all dead. 

They replaced the doors which Cas shattered and painted over the walls which Dean and Bobby covered with sigils, but if Dean looks carefully, he can see the shadows of them behind the new coat of whitewash. He touches them gently for a second, remembering Bobby and all of the years which led him back to this place. Then he pulls out his can of spray paint and proceeds to deface the barn all over again. 

When he’s done, he sets up the ingredients on the table. The table is where it was all those years ago, facing the doors to the barn. He doesn’t quite believe that Cas is going to pull the same trick, storming through the doors in a shower of sparks, but he can always hope. 

“God...Jack,” Dean corrects himself with a wry twist of his mouth, “I really hope this works. Cas, wherever you are, I really hope you have your ears on.” 

Dean looks at his translations and begins to speak. He’s hoping that intention counts for something as his tongue stumbles over the unfamiliar words. His heart beats an uncertain pulse in his chest. This has to work. It has to work. 

He puts every ounce of belief into his voice, every bit of the faith Cas once accused him of not having. I have faith, he thinks, putting force behind his voice, sending his words rocketing into the dimensions. I believe in us. 

What’s real? 

We are.

The last syllables roll over his tongue, followed immediately by a peal of thunder. The barn shivers, a ripple rolling through the air to settle over Dean’s skin. Electricity crackles in the air, filling him with potential. 

“Castiel?” he calls to the darkness. “Cas?” 

There’s no answer, but the spells and research had been unclear on whether or not there should be an answer. He would prefer knowing that Cas was listening, but in absence of certainty, he’ll have to have faith. 

“Cas, I really hope you can hear me,” he says. The words bring back the memories of Purgatory and a time when he and Cas could barely look at each other. He pushes those memories away and concentrates on the truth he can feel in his heart, the same truth which has guided him through the years and all the way from Lebanon, Kansas to the small barn where it all began all those years ago. 

“I know you made your choice. I know you were happy. But...it’s not the same without you. I’m not the same without you. I wake up and think about you, and you’re the last thing I think about before I go to sleep at night. Every moment, you’re there because you’re not there. I look at all the places you’re missing and I can’t help but think that everything would be better if you were there.”

Dean swallows. “I miss you,” he confesses to the night. “Cas, I miss you so much. And I want you to come back. Not because I need you or because there’s something to fight against, but just because I miss you and life is better when you’re around.” He thinks of what Sam told him before he went. “There’s a new world out there, and I can’t think of who I would rather explore it with than you, but in order to do that, you’ve got to make a choice, all right?” 

His heart is pounding so hard he thinks it might explode out of his chest. “I want to share my life with you. I want to figure out this world together. I want to be able to look at you and hold you and experience everything with you. Cas, I want to tell you what I should have told you every single day for years. I’m sorry that I never told you while you were with me. And I’m sorry that the first time I say it, I’m not going to be looking at you, but it wouldn’t be our lives if something about this wasn’t shitty, right?” 

Dean takes a deep breath. “I love you, Cas. Not because of what you can do or how useful you are. I love you because of who you are and how hard you try. And I want to say it to you, every single day, for years to come. I’ve made my choice, Cas. Now you just need to make yours.” 

Silence overtakes the barn. The only sound is the faint whistling of the wind through the slats of the barn and the quick rasp of his breathing. There’s no flap of wings, no deep voice growling in his ears, no pop of electricity. 

“Please, Cas,” Dean whispers, closing his eyes to try and stop the burning behind them. “Please.” 

Thunder rolls through the barn, shaking through the wood down to the dirt floor. Dean’s head jerks upright as he scans the barn. “Cas?” he calls, hardly daring to hope. “Castiel?” 

A thin, golden thread rips open in the air before him. It looks almost exactly like the rifts between worlds which Jack used to create, but that’s not possible. 

It’s not possible, but Dean dares to hope anyway. 

“Castiel? Cas?” 

A single hand reaches out through the golden tear, and then Dean is moving, he’s practically tripping over his own feet in his haste to reach the rift. “Cas, Cas, please,” he’s saying, not quite aware of the words which are tumbling from his mouth. “Please.” 

Until his fingers grip the hand, he’s not sure that it’s real, but that’s solid flesh and bone underneath his palm. Dean pulls, feeling resistance on the other end. “No,” he grunts, reaching into the rift. His hand touches skin, and his resolve grows. He didn’t come this far only to lose. They haven’t come this far only to fall apart. 

“I want you,” he says, as though the force of his words can rip through the veil. “Cas, please, come home, Cas, please--” 

With an almighty heave, he pulls once more and then he’s falling backward, another body tumbling against his in an ungainly pile of limbs and bodies. There’s skin and there’s warm, and there’s weight. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean sees the rift close up, as neatly as if it were never there at all. 

He doesn’t care about that. He can’t, not now. 

Dean looks down at the body sprawled across his lap. There are miles upon miles of naked skin for him to peruse, and he hopes that he’ll be able to do so later at his leisure, but for now, all he can concentrate on are those two luminous eyes blinking up at him. 

“Cas?” Dean asks, hardly daring to believe. His hands cup Castiel’s face, fingers sweeping a few locks of dark hair off of his forehead. 

Castiel blinks at him, his dark eyelashes fanning over his cheeks. A slow smile creeps across his face, like the dawn spreading across the horizon. “Dean,” he says, his voice the same as it always was, but this time it’s better, because it’s a voice that Dean never thought he’d hear again. 

“Cas.” It’s the only word Dean seems capable of saying, but words don’t seem important anymore, not when he can lean forward and press his lips to Cas’, not when he can taste the small sigh of surprise on Cas’ lips. “Cas, I missed you so much, oh god, Cas, there’s so much I want to tell you, there’s so much I want to do--” 

Cas interrupts him with another kiss, his arms threading around Dean’s shoulders to pull him closer. Gentle fingers tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, and Dean thinks that he could live in this moment forever. 

But before he does that, there’s something else which needs to happen first. Dean pulls away, ignoring the small whine of protest from Cas. 

“Cas, there’s something I need to tell you,” he starts, only to be interrupted. 

“I know,” Cas says, his face splitting into a wide, gummy smile. No shadow lurks behind his eyes, no hint of tears glisten in his eyes. There’s just happiness, radiant and absolute, gleaming from his face. 

“I heard your prayer.” 

Maybe once upon a time, Dean would have been satisfied with that answer, but not anymore. 

“I love you,” Dean whispers, pressing the words into Cas’ skin with gentle kisses over his temple and cheeks. “I love you, I love you, I love you, and I’m going to tell you every day until you get sick of it.” 

“You’ll have to try for a very long time,” Castiel answers, his fingers tracing along Dean’s jaw. “I like hearing those words very much.” 

Dean can’t help but kiss him again. As he does so, he feels the lost and scattered pieces of his heart knitting back together until he can finally breathe for the first time in months. “Come on,” he says, once he surfaces for air. “Let’s go.” 

It only hits him then that Cas is naked. Apparently rebirth and snagging people out of alternate dimensions results in a distinct lack of clothing. Dean’s eyes want to travel over the skin revealed to him, but he waits. There will be time, he realizes with a tiny thrill of delight. He and Cas have all the time in the world.

He manages to find a blanket to wrap around Cas’ shoulders. It will do until they get out to the car where he has a spare set of clothes. For now, he helps Cas to his feet. Cas looks around him, his eyes wide and huge, as though he’s overwhelmed with the world around him. 

“Where are we headed?” Cas asks as they head towards the door. The Impala waits outside, beckoning them forward once more. 

Dean grins as the cool night air washes over them. It’s gentle and soft, eternity held in the breeze. There’s a world held within the palm of tonight, a world held within the rest of their lives. 

“Wherever we want,” he answers, stepping out of the shadow of the barn and into the world. 

As they walk towards the Impala, a light rain begins to fall. 

---

“Before, I wanted to say: "I found love!" But now, I want to say: "I found a person. And he belongs to me and I belong to him.”― C. JoyBell C.

[ghostdrew22]

angst fic where ravenclaw!reader has thalassophobia and is playing with the water by the shore in the dark lake with the necklace draco gave her before they broke up a few years back when the new girl he’s been going out with throws the necklace into the middle of the lake in spite, and the reader cannot afford to lose it djeiwis sorry if it’s messy u dont have to do it ure uncomfyyy

Prompts:

If you die, I’m going to kill you.

Jump In || Draco Malfoy

Requested: Yes Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Warnings: ANGST, a bit of swearing, panic attacks and thalassophobia mentioned. Summary: Years after breaking up with Draco you find that the last gift he gave you is still the only thing comforting you, and his new girlfriend doesn’t like that.

WORDS : 3546

Gleaming, twinkling Eyes like sinking ships on waters So inviting, I almost jump in

The crescent moon outside begs for your company and you oblige, preferring to be alone than stuck in a room full of people who pity you. You lift the bottom half of your dress from the ground and sneak out of the ballroom nonchalantly, anxiety dissipating as the soft breeze comes in contact with your face.

The sound of your heels clacking against the cobblestone fills the air as you walk toward the boardwalk hanging above the lake, and it reminds you of a time when Draco would bring you down here. The lake behind the Malfoy Manor has always been subject to your fear, and you rarely ever go toward it, but tonight you’ll do almost anything to feel alone and normal for once.

The tiny ripples forming on the surface send shivers running down your spine and you look up at the sky immediately in an attempt to subdue your anxiety. A few meters away lies the ballroom, full of dignitaries and old family friends of the Malfoy’s who attend their annually ball every time without fail, and you can hear the faint sound of laughter mixed with a beautiful crescendo. You shut your eyes, take a deep breath and drag your fingers up to your neck to toy with necklace lying around it, as you try to imagine that you’re anywhere else.

You’d thought that it would be easier, coming to the ball and seeing him with his new girlfriend, but it had proved to be a bigger challenge than you’d anticipated, and residual feelings that you’d been trying to stuff down for months had resurfaced like anchors being pulled up from the bottom of the sea. It reminded you of what he said that day, “I’m yours forever, even if you’re not mine.”, and the only thing that stopped you from running back into his arms was the chain hanging around your neck.

A silver chain with a midnight blue sapphire dangling on its end, worth one of your arms and a gift from the blond himself. He had given it to you as a promise, one to love you till the sun stopped rising, and at the time you had thought that it was the perfect gesture. But reality hit and you soon realized that a life with Draco Malfoy would be one filled with envy and uneasiness, and you knew then that you both deserved more.

The necklace’s monetary value reminds you that Draco belongs to a long and esteemed family line which demands attention that you cannot cope with. But the fact that it had been his proclamation of love reminds you that in order for you both to lead happy lives, you must be apart. The way it gleams beneath Chandeliers is so captivating that it always brings you back to earth; a life with Draco is inviting, but some invitations mustn’t be accepted.

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

All eyes instantly fell on him the second that he appeared; sporting that notorious smile which always brought people to their knees, and a priceless suit that hugged his figure so well it made all the straight men positively envious. A true Malfoy; charming, rich, attractive, easily the whole package. You didn’t get a chance to speak with him because he was instantly preoccupied with the ramblings of his mother as she dragged him around the room with pride, showing off the son that she’d done such a good job at raising.

Draco’s life had always been politics and he’d been raised to invariably stand tall, look presentable, get good grades, converse well. You watched him in awe every time, admiring the grace and ease with which he conducted himself. But it made you wonder when he’d been taught the art of letting the spotlight go, to focus all of his attention on the one he loves instead of the search for approval. And the answer was that he hadn’t, Draco never grew out of the desire to have everyone’s praise and approval.

‘If everyone loves you, if everyone wants to either be you or be with you, then you’ve succeeded.’ He’d told you late one night after one these balls. You’d looked at him with pity, not having the heart to tell him that love and validation are not synonymous, and you’d hugged him so hard that somehow you both knew it was all coming to an end soon.

He grew up being a magnet to both jealousy and admiration, a symphony of applause being the background track to the movie of his life, and he didn’t know how to live any other way. When all you’ve ever known is lustful stares from fellow peers, stolen glances at the back of your head, and unbridled acclaim masked behind attraction, then it’s hard to put that life behind and settle for the love of only one person.

Walk past, quick brush I don't like slow motion, double vision in rose blush I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush Everybody wants you But I don't like a gold rush

He truly was magnificent though, even you couldn’t deny. Years ago, when he’d walked down the stairs in one of those clad black suits, he had met you at the bottom of the stairwell and you could’ve sworn that you were floating on cloud 9. He had smiled so brightly at the sight of you, had laughed so sweetly in the space of your ear, and fit so tightly into your side like it was a home made only for him, that you were intoxicated on the feeling of him and hadn’t noticed what was happening.

You were falling in love. You weren’t flying, no, you didn’t have wind beneath mystical wings that you’d somehow managed to grow. You were falling, and at a speed so treacherous that you didn’t even realise it was happening until it was too late. One day you were falling, and the next you were ruins buried so far into the ground that you couldn’t even tell where the earth stopped and you started.

Falling in love with him was fast, like a bullet train, but everything after was so slow that you felt as if you weren’t even moving at all.

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominos I see me padding 'cross your wooden floors With my Eagles t-shirt hanging from the door At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit And the coastal town we wandered 'round had never seen a love as pure as it And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea 'Cause it could never be

Promises to run away together and start a life somewhere off in a distant town.

Fingertips, laced with the narcotic effect of young love, tracing lines across the expanse of each other’s faces and trying to figure out which of the other’s features would be inherited by your children.

Dreams about a time when your lives would no longer be dictated by the paths your parents had set out for you, but instead by the spontaneity and reassurance that came with endearment.

Tastes of tea replaced instead with the taste of each other as long-forgotten tisanes made home on bedside tables because you both got lost in the haze of tenderness.

Arguments about mundane and useless concepts that would go on for longer than necessary, because he insisted on disagreeing with everything, and always ended with your acute responses.

Lives that had once lacked passion, that had once been so dull they compared to Snape’s drawling, instead replaced with all the colours that the world had to offer.

It was the perfect life, the one you two had planned.

But it was too perfect to ever be real.

You take a deep breath and unhook the necklace to observe it once more, hoping that it’ll provide some comfort for the ache in your chest.

'Cause I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you Walk past, quick brush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush Everybody wants you But I don't like a gold rush

“Y/N.” A voice slurs behind you.

You turn with furrowed eyebrows and roll your eyes when you see who it is, “Pansy.”

“Don’t be rude.” She hisses and hiccups as she stumbles toward you, “What are you doing out here?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” You narrow your eyes at her, “Are you drunk?”

“Just a tad.” She replies as she hiccups again and finally stands before you. You watch silently as she gracefully sits on the wood below her, making sure not to create creases in her dress or fall over in her heels.

“Shouldn’t you be in there? On his arm like a trophy?” You ask, and inwardly groan when you hear how jealous you sound.

“Probably.” She shrugs and looks out into the water. “It doesn’t matter though, I’m not you.”

She looks up and into your eyes, you look away immediately. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that.”

“Yes, you do.” She states bluntly, “He told me why you left him. That was really selfish of you.”

You gasp and turn to look at her, “How dare you? You have no idea-“

“No, actually, I do.” She gets up from the ground swiftly as a fire rages in her eyes, “You think I don’t know what it’s like to be like him? We’re the same, we were practically raised on the same blueprint. Despite what you think, there’s a lot more to the issue than what lays on the surface.”

“Oh and I guess you have all the answers?” You spit out with a scoff.

“I thought Ravenclaws were meant to be smart.” She shakes her head and hiccups as she turns to face the water, “Draco’s entire life has always just been this.” Pansy turns and gestures toward the Manor with a grimace.

“It’s always been about being the best in the room, just so that he can earn five seconds of approval from his parents. But you came, and you showed him more, you gave him a glimpse of what love feels like. Then, because you were scared and couldn’t hack it, you left him.” She continues and you grip the necklace tightly in anger.

“That’s not what happene-“

“How can you possibly expect him to come back to me, to this bullshit, when he’s experienced actual happiness? How is he supposed to come back from you?” She finally turns to face you and you hear a slight crack in her voice with the last words, “I love him so much and if I could make him half as happy as you do then I would.”

“You can.” You breathe out shakily, “If you two try a little more then you’ll realise why it just makes sense.”

“Love isn’t about sense Y/N. It’s not about appearances, it’s not about applause, it’s not about any of the crap that him and I were raised to prioritize.”

“You call it crap but that’s all he knows, and he just isn’t ready to give it all up.”

“Why do you get to decide that for him?” She tilts her head to the side and raises her eyebrows, you look away from her.

“I should probably get back inside.” You mutter as you start to turn toward the manor.

“You’re righ-“ She gasps and you turn to see what’s shocked her, “You still have it?”

“Have what?”

“The necklace.” She points to your hand and you nod awkwardly in agreement, “I helped him pick it out.”

“Oh.”

“A sapphire to match your virtue and faithfulness.” She says absent-mindedly as her eyes lock on the piece of jewellery. “Guess he got that wrong.”

She laughs coldly and you scrunch your face in confusion, “Excuse me?”

“You’re just like the rest of them.” Before you even know what’s happening she’s reached for the necklace in your hand, “You love him until it’s no longer convenient, until the paint starts to chip.”

“That’s not true.” Your voice comes out shaky and lacking conviction, it makes her laugh again in disgust.

“And then who has to pick up the fallen pieces? Me.” She continues to ramble as she walks toward the edge of the boardwalk, you feel your breathing start to pickup as you try to focus on her instead of the lake behind her. “As if I don’t have my own pieces to pick up.”

“Pansy, please just come here so we can talk about this nicely.” You respond and swallow.

“No. You don’t deserve a civil conversation.” She spits out as she finally reaches the edge of the boardwalk and hangs the necklace out by her arm, “In fact, you don’t deserve anything. You don’t deserve his love and you definitely don’t deserve this pendant.”

“No!”

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes My mind turns your life into folklore I can't dare to dream about you anymore

Everything after falling in love with Draco happened in slow motion. You don’t know how, or when, but your life had become a slackening slideshow of bad decisions.

You hold your breath as you watch the necklace fall into the lake. It’s as though minutes, hours, days pass in that moment, but you know that it’s merely a few seconds. When the splash finally sounds, you let out a huge gasp and Pansy laughs as she turns to leave.

Panic sets in and you start to contemplate your options. You could jump in and get it yourself? No, that’s absurd, you’re not going to overcome your fear that easily. You could rush into the manor and find someone who’s willing to get it for you? No, no one would take you seriously.

You shake your head and decide to just do the easiest thing; try and work up the courage to get it yourself. You start to pull off your heels and scrunch up your dress so that you can step into the water and you walk toward the edge of the boardwalk.

But as soon as you’re near the water you realise that you can’t do it and your panic rapidly worsens. You step back a few paces before falling to the ground and pulling your head into your knees as silent sobs begin to shake your core.

Breaths, in rapid beats, are going to and from your lungs as the sound of the water swishing fills your ears. Nausea begins to set in your stomach as you think more and more about your terrible predicament, your fear of bodies of water and your sadness at losing the necklace combining to form one indestructible lump in the pit of your stomach.

“Y/N? Are you out here?” A voice calls out from a yard or two away and you try to recognize it, but everything is foggy in your state of trepidation.

“Shit, Y/N!” The voice calls out once more and you hear footsteps pick up to a run as the person approaches you. “I swear to Merlin, if you die I’m going to kill you!”

You realise that the person still hasn’t noticed you, and is probably assuming the worst, so you try your best to croak out a word- any word.

“Here.” You manage to rasp out between sobs and wheezes, and the person immediately runs toward you.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” They ask as they pull your head out from your knees and you try to nod slowly.

You blink back a few tears and try to focus on the face in front of you, “The- the-“ You try to say and shake your head of the confusion as the words refuse to formulate.

“Hey, breathe princess.”

You recognize the nickname and then soon enough your eyes register that Draco’s kneeling in front of you. “Draco?”

“Yes, it’s me.” He responds softly as he cups your face in his hands and tries to wipe a few of your tears, “Take a few deep breaths for me, yeah?”

You nod and do as told, breathing until you finally calm down and manage to think clearly again. “I’m okay.” You breathe out and he sighs in relief.

“I was so worried, Pansy came in rambling about getting back at you and something about tossing and water- And I was just so scared that she’d thrown you in or something, because I know that you can’t swim and you’re terrified of the lake so I-“

“Hey, slow down, I’m okay. I’m right here.” You respond and manage a weak smile. He nods and sighs again. “She didn’t toss me into the water, though I think she would’ve liked to. She threw in the necklace. Shit! The necklace, it’s still down there!” You exclaim as you try to stand up but find that your legs are asleep, and end up coming back down instantly.

“Calm down. What necklace?”

“The one you gave me, the one with the sapphire that you said was a family heirloom?” You ramble and he furrows his eyebrows.

“You still have that?”

“Yes, I do. And it’s at the bottom of the lake and I need to get it back!” You stand up and Draco immediately does the same, placing his hands on your shoulders to keep you still.

“It’s just a necklace Y/N, you don’t need it.”

“It’s not just a necklace, it’s-“ You pinch your nose and sigh, “It just means a lot to me, okay?”

He narrows his eyebrows but nods in understanding, “Okay.” He steps back from you and pulls off his suit jacket, looking absolutely magnificent with his toned shoulders showing beneath the well-fitted shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to get it for you.” He shrugs and you shake your head.

“You don’t have to, I can figure something out.”

“You tried to figure it out and you had a full on panic attack, I’m the best option.” He says sternly as he looks at you and you nod in agreement, “Now just wait, very far away, and let me find it for you.”

“Thank you.” You call out behind him but he doesn’t respond.

At dinner parties I won't call you out on your contrarian shit And the coastal town we never found will never see a love as pure as it 'Cause it fades into the gray of my day old tea 'Cause it will never be

“Here you go, in perfect condition.” He says as he drops the necklace into your hands and runs a hand through his hair. He looks gorgeous and you look down to avoid getting lost in his eyes.

“Your suit is wet.” You mumble with a sniff and he chuckles, the sound makes your heart race.

“We have magic, I’ll dry up.”

“Thank you.” You whisper as you finally look up at him and he smiles, that same hypnotic smile. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without it.”

“It’s just a necklace Y/N.” He smiles softly and you shake your head as tears begin to stream down your face again.

“No, it’s not just a necklace.” You sniff, “It’s you and I. It’s all that I have left of the love that we had, it’s all that I have left of the life we were going to build together.”

“Y/N.” The sternness in his voice makes you swallow hard, but you pull your hand up to indicate that you’re not done.

“Let me talk, please.” He nods and you continue, “This little gem is all the words that we never had the chance to say. It’s the nights we would’ve spent climbing into bed together, in our little house that’s tucked safely into a small town. It’s the cups of coffee I was going to make you when you woke up in the mornings, and the cups of tea you would’ve made me when we went to sleep. This little gem is the only thing I have to remind me that our love was real.”

“It also doesn’t hurt that it costs a fortune huh?” He asks with a grin, despite the fact that there’s sadness in his eyes, and you nod with a choked out laugh.

“Definitely a bonus.” You say as you laugh a little more and wipe away a few tears.

Draco pulls the necklace out of your hands and opens it to put it around your neck once again, and you turn around so he can put it on. “Look, Y/N, life is too short to fill up with ridiculous mistakes. You left me, like I never mattered to you, and it broke me.”

You turn back around quickly, “That wasn-“

He twists you back around abruptly, “Let me talk now.” You nod and he continues to hook the chain around your neck. “It took me months to decipher what you meant when you said that I had too much love for the spotlight, that I didn’t have the capacity to let it go. It took me months to finally grasp what you meant when you said that people fall at my feet, that my contrarian demeanor is a crowd-puller. And the recognition hurt, a lot, because I realised that you we right about most of it.”

You feel his fingers leave your neck as he places a soft kiss on your shoulder, “What was I wrong about?”

He pulls you back to face him and smiles as he looks down at you, “The only thing you were wrong about was my unwillingness to let it go.” He pulls you into his arms for a hug, and you sigh in his arms.

“You can’t just leave this life Draco, we both know it isn’t that simple.” You muffle into his chest and the vibrations of his chuckles make you smile.

“That’s where you’re wrong angel, I can just leave this life. You never gave me the option but,” You pull apart and he smiles so wide that you think his face might come apart, “I would give it all up, for you.”

Gleaming, twinkling Eyes like sinking ships on waters So inviting, I almost jump in

His eyes are shining as they look down at you with adoration and commitment, and it takes all the strength you have left inside to not pull him back into your arms. He brings his fingers up to the sapphire and rubs his thumb along it.

“It’s not all you have Y/N.” He pulls your chin up so you look him in the eyes, “I’m still right here.”

~~~

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~~~

hi lovies! guess who’s finally feeling good enough to write again! :) we’re going to ignore the fact that the FOOLWAG sequel is beating my ass though

I will not lie, I had a great time writing this, possibly one of my favourite requests by far. I was originally going to make the ending angsty but I figured  @evermoreeve (thx sweetie<3) reminded me that we all deserve a happy ending now and then.

anyway, i love you all,

jean <3

[ray-ray-writings]

Tightrope-Dream

This is a self indulgent Dream x gn!reader in the dreamsmp that I was going to post a while ago but got to insecure about it to post. But now that I haven’t posted in a few days and I don’t know when I’ll get to write again, I decided to say f*** it and post it. So I hope you enjoy hahaha. 

Based off of this song. Song lyrics are in bold. 

Masterlist here

Y/N and Dream have been together for what feels like forever. But when Dream says that he cares about nothing anymore, Y/N takes a moment to evaluate the tightrope walk they call their relationship. 

Y/N’s POV

“I don’t give a fuck, okay?” I heard Dream spit from behind an obsidian wall. “I do not give a fuck about Spirit. I don’t give a fuck about anything actually! All I care about is your discs. I care MORE about your discs than you do. That’s the only thing I care about on the server...” His words hit me like a brick. Dream didn’t care about anything. That means he doesn’t care about me… That can’t be true, right? We’ve been together since the beginning… Before the beginning! I was by his side when we made this server. I fought beside him in every single war, no matter how in the wrong I thought he was… When I would tell him what I thought he would simply brush me off. We used to make every decision together but lately it seems that I was just another obstacle in his way. Or maybe just another pawn in his game. 

I came out of my daze to hear the end of Dream’s speech, maybe this part he’ll fix his wording… “Don’t try and threaten me. I don’t care. I have lost all care for anything on the server…” Well there goes that hope. I couldn’t help the sobs that fell from my mouth at his words. He doesn’t care for anything on the server… I’m on the server. George, Sapnap, Punz, Bad, all his friends were on the server. He doesn’t care about us. 

Suddenly it was very quiet, I knew they had heard me. I took this opportunity to step out from behind the wall I was hiding behind. All eyes softened at the sight of me, Dream’s eyes softening the most. “Y/N” he tried, taking a few steps forward but I held out a hand to stop him, “Don’t. You don’t care about anything on this server… Remember?” I hissed, marching away from him, not even turning around when he called my name once more. 

I was at a lost as to where to go. I couldn’t go home. Dream would be there soon enough. I couldn’t go to the community house, too many memories. I knew he would find me at a friend’s house. Besides I needed to be alone. I needed to be somewhere where I could look down and think about everything. Then it hit me and I couldn’t stop the laugh that made it past the tears. “The reverse coaster.” 

When Tommy first built this contraption, everyone, myself included, called him crazy. Who would want to climb all the way up to the top of a track just to go down it again. Now I couldn’t help but be thankful that he had made this. The journey to the top took fifteen minutes, but it was worth it. I could see everything from here. It was beautiful. Walking the thin line while looking at the ground really made me think of a tightrope… A perfect analogy for my relationship with Dream right now. Dream…

Some people long for a life, simple and planned

Tied with a ribbon

Some people won't sail the sea 'cause they're safer on land, to follow what's written

But I'd follow you to the great unknown

Off to a world we call our own

I was with Dream when he began the server. He had gotten tired living under someone else’s rule and wanted a place we could call our own. He convinced me… although it didn’t take much convincing, I would follow him anywhere. So one night we packed up what little we could carry and we left. We left into the unknown, not knowing where we were going. But we knew everything would be alright as long as we had each other.

Hand in my hand and we promised to never let go

We're walking a tightrope 

High in the sky. We can see the whole world down below.

We're walking a tightrope 

Never sure, never know how far we could fall

But it's all an adventure that comes with a breathtaking view

Walking a tightrope, with you

Through everything. I had always been Dream and I. For the longest time, you would never find one without the other. Our hands always seemed to interlocked. I guess it wasn’t until the first L’Manberg war when things started pulling us apart. We would stand on the obsidian walls that Dream and Sapnap had built around L’Manberg, just observing. Dream would constantly be making battle plans in his head and I was just there for moral support, I guess. We spent countless hours just watching the ‘hot dog stand’ waiting for someone to come out and make a move. 

There were some nights where the scene was almost breathtaking. The walls were pretty high up, we could see a lot of the server. Everything was lit up beautifully. Building shined brightly and everything was warm and welcoming. It was perfect. I would try and get Dream to dance with me. The first few times he would agree and we would slow dance around the walls. But as battle drew nearer and nearer, we danced less and less until it stopped all together. 

Mountains and valleys, and all that will come in between. Desert and ocean.

You pulled me in and together we're lost in a dream. Always in motion.

So I risk it all just to be with you

And I risk it all for this life we choose

Dream and I had fights. What couple didn’t? Dream would do something stupid and I would grill him about it but we always made up. We never went to bed angry. I never would let him leave home on adventure without a hug and a kiss goodbye. No matter how far he would travel, I always knew he would come home to me and that we loved each other. Being with Dream was…  well a dream. We loved each other endlessly. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for him and I knew the feeling was mutual. 

I would risk everything to be with him. Leaving the safety of one server to begin another? No problem. Fight in a war where he was on the ‘bad side’? Anything for my baby. I would give my life if it meant Dream lived. I used to know the feeling was mutual… 

Hand in my hand and you promised to never let go

We're walking a tightrope

High in the sky. We can see the whole world down below

We're walking a tightrope

Never sure, will you catch me if I should fall?

I never had to worry. I knew that Dream was right there beside me. Always one step ahead. Filling in cracks and gaps in Prime Path so I wouldn’t trip and fall. Checking in on my mental health so I wouldn’t fall into a panic attack or into a depression. I always knew he would catch me, physically, mentally, and emotionally. I could trust him to be there for me. Now I’m not so sure. 

Well, it's all an adventure

That comes with a breathtaking view

Walking a tightrope

With you

Loving Dream. Being with Dream. Giving everything to Dream was and always has been an adventure. Many times it took me to new heights. Let me see things I had never seen before, leaving me breathless. I was balancing on a tightrope and he was right behind me, making sure I was okay, that I was safe. He would make sure I knew how much he cared for me. How much he loved me. 

These thoughts just swirled in my head. I sat down, my legs dangling over the cobblestone as I stared at the ground. What do I do from here? Dream says he doesn’t care about me anymore. For as long as I could remember, my whole life had revolved around Dream. Doing whatever he needed, being who he needed me to be. Given, he did the same thing for me. Where do I go from here? 

“Y/N!” A voice shouted from below, breaking me from my concentration. My eyes scanned the ground to find that familiar green hoodie. “What are you doing up there?” I rolled my eyes in annoyance, “Why do you care?” I shouted back. There was a moment of silence before he responded, “Come down! I want to talk,” Dream called. I watched as he placed a water bucket and motioned for me to jump down. I hesitated for a moment… Did I trust him? There’s only one way to find out. 

I took a deep breath before allowing myself to fall from the top of the reverse coaster. I couldn’t help but let out a giggle as the water cradled me securing me a safe landing. I quickly realized why I had jumped down in the first place and stood up to face Dream, looking down at the ground. “I’m here… What do you want?” I questioned harshly. “I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to apologize and explain myself,” He answered, trying to get me to look at him. I refused and remained silent, motioning for him to go on. 

“I didn’t mean what I said. Of course I didn’t. I care about you so much Y/N. Tommy just gets me so worked up sometimes and I just speak without thinking. I love you and care for you. You know that!” Dream exclaimed, reaching out to try and grab my hands. I quickly pulled them away and snapped my eyes to his, “Do I?” I barked, causing Dream to flinch at my tone. “Do I know that you love me? That you care for me? Do I? Because lately it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it,” I snapped, all my feelings radiating off of me. “We used to do everything together. Make every decision together. We would walk the tightrope together, but lately it just feels like you’ve let me hung out to dry.” 

Dream gaped at me, “I didn’t know you felt this way,” He murmured, moving toward me once more. And once again, I moved and scoffed, “That’s because you’ve been too caught up in your big scheme Dream. You’ve been using me as another pawn.” Dream began to protest but I held up a finger to cut him off, “Don’t even try to deny it. You come to me and ask me for something and once I do it, you toss me aside, only coming back when you need something. And I’m sick of it, Dream.” 

Dream was silent as he thought about everything. “You’re right,” He spoke after a few moments of silence. “You are absolutely right. I’ve been horrible to you. I’ve been horrible to everyone… I’m so sorry.” Tears began to leak from Dream’s face as he spoke. “Please, give me another chance. I promise, I’ll do better. I’ll be better. I’ll be the man that you want, the one you need. Please.” He begged, reaching out to grab my hands. This time I let him grab a hold of them and hang on.

 “It’s going to take some time. The damage you’ve done it too great to fix with a simple apology. You’re going to have to work hard to prove to me that you’ve changed,” I explained, looking deep into Dream’s beautiful green eyes. He nodded quickly, “I will. As long as it takes.” Dream leaned forward and wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. “I love you so much Y/N” He murmured into my ear. “I love you too Dream. Always have, always will.”

Hope you enjoyed. If so be sure to leave a like, maybe even a reply or a reblog. Like I said I’m pretty insecure about this piece so I would love to know what you think.