#i almost laid out of work today to be depressed but i had 3 meetings so i didn't and I'm glad i went

[itstheghostofmypast]

Tornado Warnings

Idol Song Mingi x (F)Reader

Summary: She had to tell him one way or the other, but she didn't want him to take it any other way than it really was. Who was she confronting though, at the end of it all, herself, him, or their relationship?

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: insecurities, depression, anxiety disorder

Est.Read Time: 25 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Ratings: nc-17

Banner: @cafekitsune

Song Rec: Tornado Warnings (Sabrina Carpenter)

Staring up at the ceiling she wondered if she should tell him or not. He had been sitting at his desk, hunched over, the expanse of his broad shoulders making it look extremely painful. Ever so often he'd mumble to himself, reading out a verse, shaking his head, and then scribbling it out, the room littered with paper balls. After an hour of collecting them and throwing them in the bin, she had given up and decided to read instead- that was 3 hours ago, and by now, the room looked like it belonged to a toddler.

Slamming his hand on the desk he groaned, the wood shivering under his large hand. He was frustrated, she could tell, and he could tell too, but he wasn't frustrated because of the lyrics- no that was just part of the frustration. He was frustrated because he wasn't able to pay attention to her today, spend time with her, or talk to her, even though he had invited her over today. They were supposed to be free today, which they were, which is why he called her but as soon as he saw her face he felt as if the world had stopped and his brain had begun to jumble words together for some coherency- it frustrated him how she was his source of inspiration, yet the subject of neglection.

"Mingi?" She finally decided to break the four-hour-long silence. Shit. She probably wanted to leave, she was probably tired of waiting for him, of course, she was, why wouldn't she be?

"Mingiiiiiii~" she whined, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at him, the soft material colliding with his head with an umf. Rubbing his head he turned around, staring at her, eyes filled with dread. 

"Yeah- I- am almost done-"

"I want to go to a therapist."

"Sure-" he paused, confused, staring at her for a second, brows knitting together in confusion, why? Was he the reason? Did someone hurt her? Was there something she never told him-

"Mingi, if you keep making that face and zoning out, I'll beat you with a pillow."

Snorting at the threat he stood up, shaking his head before stretching his arms over his head, making him look even taller. Tilting her head up to meet his gaze she frowned, unsure if he was going to take this well or not, but the moment he jumped on the bed beside her, his action causing the whole bed to rock, a laugh wracked through her body.

He laid there on his side, facing her, head resting on his palm, elbow digging into the sheets, most of his legs dangling off the bed as he smiled at her, "Okay, no more intrusive thoughts or work, you have my full attention".

"Finally," muttering, she reached over to run her fingers through his brown, unkempt, spikes, "Look at this nest..." His eyes closed at the kind gesture, only to snap open at the latter statement, "It goes with the concept- does it not look good?"

"Of course it does."

"Then?"

"Just makes it harder for me to...." she trailed off, averting her gaze and pulling her hand back to her lap. Sitting up straight he frowned at her, reaching over to clasp her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze, "Love...what is it...you- we promised to always share right?" His voice was calm but she could sense the desperation in his words, slowly pulling her closer, both now sitting cross-legged on the bed, she was glad his bed was as big as him because even with his legs folded in and back pressed against the wall, he was taking a lot of space.

"I told- I mean, you know how I said that I kind of feel off these days?"

"Yeah?"

"I've been seeing this therapist and-"

"You're going to therapy? You didn't tell me? Is everything okay? Did something happen? Wait, you want to or are you going to one?" Brows knitted together he licked his lower lip, ready for more of his interrogation, why hadn't she told him? Did he have a role in this? What was the premise of the situation, were they going to be, okay?

Raising a hand gesturing him to stop and calm down, and for herself to do the same, taking a deep breath she exhaled and gained some form of composure. "I... okay, so, I only went once, free trial kind of thing, but then, she asked me a few questions I couldn't really answer, so I stopped- its been a week so yeah..."

Nodding in return he pursed his lips in thought before muttering, "What kind of questions?"

"Relationships..." He nodded at her short response, thinking for a moment before humming, "And...that makes you feel uncomfortable?"

It wasn't like she felt uncomfortable, in fact their relationship was one of the most important and joyous highlights of her life, but it was one that she was to keep to herself, at least for some time. It's not like she didn't know this before committing to this relationship.

"I- the thing is..." She began slowly, he could tell by looking at her expressions that she was choosing her words very carefully, "I just feel like I'll be lying, so it'll make the session pointless, on the other hand, I don't want to talk about us because what of it is leaked or something else..."

Nodding he thought to himself, humming as he leaned against the wall. He understood where she was coming from, on one hand, he knew how important it was to have a clear head, a cluttered mind often leads one to some form of depression. On the other hand, he wanted to be selfish and keep her all to himself, but letting her go...would make her happy, then the question is, did he love her enough to let her go?

He took a deep breath, pulling his hand away from her, choosing to cross his arms over his chest, as if he were holding down what was bubbling within him, and began his question, trying ever so hard to ensure his voice didn't betray him, "Do you...want to" only it did, turning into a faint whisper " ...you know?"

'"What?" Confused she looked at him before noticing the way his eyes had watered, connecting the dots, only to gasp and yell, "NO YOU IDIOT!"

Grabbing the closest object, she smacked him, over and over again, lucky for him it was a pillow, "WHY WOULD I WANT THAT?" she continued, hopping off the bed, after he had jumped off, to run from her.

"I DON'T KNOW?"

"MINGI! I JUST DON'T WANT TO LIE ABOUT YOU" She threw the pillow that hit the desk, things falling off, wells he had thrown it at him, but he had ducked out of the way, "YOU GENIUS, WHY WOULD I WANT TO LEAVE YOU!" She could feel the bottled-up emotions ready to blow, all the insecurities and second thoughts, the side comments and feelings fuzzing up, ready to spill, mixed with anger and sadness. To think that he would jump to such a conclusion so quickly. Was she not there for him enough? Did she not express her love enough? Or did he not feel the same way for her- in terms of depth and intensity, perhaps he was looking for a moment, a moment he could use to finally escape from her broken form, she was basically a whole package as it is, a burden he had to hide and conceal from the world- perhaps he was tired of keeping secrets too, only unlike her, maybe he wanted to completely let go, but who was she to say no to him, who was she to cling onto him?

"WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM? IT’S NOT LIKE YOU DISCUSSED THIS WITH ME BEFORE GOING TO ONE!" He yelled back, frowning at the mess, standing a good distance from her. Okay, perhaps he was upset, not only did she never mention the therapist before, but now he felt like maybe he was the problem. Though his voice had betrayed him, choosing to side with his bottled-up frustration, doing that one thing he had never wanted to do when it came to her, yell at her, to raise his voice and put the blame on her, even though he could clearly see her façade crack, yet here he was shoving it until it shattered.

For a moment she stared at him, quietly trying to arrange her thoughts, to understand her feelings, trying to deal with the turmoil, trying to compose herself, she knew she should have consulted with him before even getting an appointment but, perhaps she was not ready for the yelling. Letting out a frustrated sigh and closing his eyes, he rubbed his face, trying to calm down, to block out all the noise running around in his head. He didn't mean for it to get out of hand, especially not like this.

"I..." she began, only to sigh and shake her head, "Never mind, please forget I ever mentioned it." Walking over to the things that had fallen off his desk, picked up each item, and lined them up neatly against the wall. She could pretend this never happened, that therapy never happened, that her feelings getting the best of her never happened, the feeling of being choked by her own thoughts never happened- not because he had yelled at her, no, but because of the fear of losing him, she’d rather watch herself slowly crumble away than to lose him like this. A toxic trait, it really is, she could now see what the therapist had meant when she told her ‘You must love yourself first before being able to love someone else’, but how could she just let him go? When he had always been there for her, and for once when he couldn’t help her, what was she to do? Leave him- perhaps that would have been better for him, but maybe, just maybe, the jealous little insecure girl in her wanted to hold onto him as long as she could.

"Mingi?" his eyes snapped open at her soft tone, meeting her meek gaze she patted the bed, "Why don't you lie down for a while, I'll order something to eat-"

"Why are- " he corrected himself, "were, you seeing a therapist? " Cutting her off, he stood there on the same spot. Watching her sigh as she sat down on the place she had cleared for him, staring at her lap, "Because...I just...sometimes I feel things...Mingi and I can't understand them and it's like I'm being choked by my thoughts."

His gaze softened at the confession, sighing as he walked to her, taking a seat next to her, he pulled her into his side, arm wrapped around her shoulders, "I- do you feel like that because of me? Because of us- I mean I'd understand because we have to hide our relationship." his words were soft, but she could sense the desperation. Leaning onto him she shook her head, reaching for his free hand, as she began to play with his fingers.

"Never," whispered she clasping her smaller hand in his much larger one, "It was and will never be you- you, this relationship, us, this is the highlight of my life." A smile grew on his face at her words, pulling her closer, if that were even possible.

"But" she pulled away, much to his disappointment, “The thing is, if I lie in therapy, then I won't get a proper diagnosis" She paused staring up at him. Silently nodding he scrunched his nose, trying to push up his glasses without letting go of her hand. An extremely inefficient way, but he didn't want to ruin the moment, maintaining eye contact right now was vital. He knew when she looked up at him like that, she'd be hinting at him to process her words instead of reacting. The way her eyebrows were slightly raised, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, ready for her tongue to roll off the next list of words.

"But?"

Reaching with her free hand she slowly pushed his glasses up, sliding them up the tip of his nose to the bridge, "I don't want to lie about you, I can't pretend you don't exist. How can I say I am single? Forget our relationship for an hour I spend there, skip through the pages of our days spent together, like a chapter pulled out by the editor at the last moment." pulling her hand away she sighed, laying back down on this soft bedding, legs dangling off, arms folded above her tummy as she looked up at the ceiling- it would've been impossible to confess her insecurities and fears while looking right at him. The innocent face he'd make, pouting at her like a child, slowly processing her words.

"How do I lie about you in that office, then come back out pretending I never did such a thing, how do I get back to the rhythm without missing a step?"

Mingi let her pull away, knowing she needed a bit of space, he did do- more than often. So, he sat there, staring ahead, but his attention was solely on her words, patiently waiting for her.

"Even if I convince the doc you don't exist, does this mean I'll end up convincing myself that too- or worse, what if I end up convincing you that I- we, no longer exist."

She had no idea when she had begun to cry, not even a memory of when her vision had turned blurry, but a hand reached up to furiously wipe away the leaking emotions, the guilt that had begun to choke her soul, with a grip so tight and strong that it scared her.

"The worst part is, that you're not even the problem, you aren't the reason for my trip, but factors in my life I cannot control. My family, apparent friends, and this pressure- sometimes I just text you at night, knowing you're asleep, knowing you're tired, knowing you won't reply instantly- but you're like the light at the end of the tunnel, and I can't help but reach out for it when I'm being pulled back into my pit and-" she paused when she felt the bed shake, sitting up on her elbows she noticed his trembling shoulders.

"Min... are you okay?" sitting up, placing a hand on his shoulder, she gave it a light squeeze. "I just...the reason why I walked out was because she asked me if I had anyone around me, I could rely on with my eyes closed. And Mingi...I sat there, staring at her face like an idiot, how could I tell her, the person I blindly rely on is the goofy, giant, artist- I came to know about another idol whose doctor exposed him and well, I can't risk that, but I don't want you to have a partner that's not emotionally fit...you deserve the world Mingi, you deserve to be with someone who will love you as much as you love me, you have a big heart Mingi- I…I don’t I’m selfish, even though I know you deserve all that, I can’t let you go, and I’m not really sorry for that…I-" With a slight pause she pressed her forehead against his shoulder, trying to control it all, for the sake of it, for him, she whispered, “I can’t lose you.”

When she got no response from him, she moved closer, shaking him a bit, "Mingi?" she leaned closer only for him to turn away whining as he let out a choked, "Don't, Yunho says I look ugly when I cry."

She couldn't help but snort at that statement causing him to frown and turn to glare at her. Unfortunately, his red, puffy eyes and trembling lower lip made it too difficult for her to take him seriously as she gushed over him, "Awww don't cry -"

"You're an insufferable woman," he pushed her hands off as she wrestled to not move them, her laugh resonating across the room.

"What? you look cute!" she tried to pull him closer as his large palm pressed against her cheek, trying to push her away, "You’re a masochist, you can't say such things and then laugh! You do need mental help!" he half cried; half yelled in protest trying to not ruin his "cool" image any further.

Their little banter was interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by its opening a bit as a head poked in, "Hey, sorry to bother you, but are you guys okay-" Seonghwa paused at the sight before him.

With one hand she was pulling on the sleeve of his sweatshirt, while her other hand was gripping the leg of his track pants. His eyes scanned the other idiot, whose palm was squished against his girlfriend's face, fingers covering half the side as if he was trying to push her away, while his other hand, arm extended completely, was gripping onto the edge of the bed like he was trying to escape. He noticed their puffy eyes and tousled hair, but he was so confused.

Seonghwa had been asked by Yunho to go check on Mingi. He was in his room when he heard the younger one yell, followed by a few things falling on the ground. He knew Mingi well enough to know he wouldn't do something stupid, but he also knew that the idiot had no control over his tongue when he was emotional. However, this was not what he was expecting to see.

"uhh... never mind."

The door closed as the two exchanged a look and burst out laughing, Seonghwa who was on the other side of the door shook his head and walked away, leaving them be.

She was too busy laughing to realise when he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight as she wheezed. Her face was buried in his neck, giggling against him. He let out a sigh, letting the silence envelop them both for a while, her body still pressed against his, arms not budging an inch, both of them lying on the soft bed. The sound of their calm breathing, mixed with the low buzz of the air conditioner had almost lulled her to sleep, his warmth wasn't helping her either. Just as her brain was about to slow down to neutral, she was violently shaken awake, "Excuse me, don't you sleep on me."

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU~" whining she pulled away only to almost fall off the bed until he pulled her closer. "I'm sorry for yelling at you." he smiled at her, when she placed a soft hand on his cheek, pinching it, "I'm not upset Mingi."

"You know Hongjoong is a great person to talk to" he suggested but stopped when he saw the face she was making, "what?" he asked, placing a limp arm on her waist.

"You realise he once advised me to put laxatives in your juice when you pranked me on my birthday."

"WHAT-" He gasped sitting up, "SO IT WAS HIM?"

"So, I think I should just stick to talking about my problems with you." she sighed, laying on her back and closing her eyes, "After a nap though- and you treat me with a nice meal, after ...that," she mumbled, feeling the fatigue left by the rush of various emotions. A few seconds had passed and she was almost asleep, her reflexes slowing down. She was almost asleep until she felt something soft press against her lips for a quick second before she was enveloped by extreme warmth, which could only be him pulling her closer, ignoring the problems and insecurities of the world for a few hours- just the two of them together, alone, peacefully happy in their dreams.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @marsvillee

@mlysalt @spooo00oky @the-kpop-simp

#cromernet #k labels #ateez #fluff #choi san #mingi #hongjoong #jongho #seonghwa #yeosang #yunho #ateez timestamps #ateez scenario #choi san fluff #ateez fluff #atz scenarios #atz imagines #mingi x reader #mingi x y/n #song mingi #mingi fluff #mingi angst #ateez fanfiction #mingi x you #ateez imagines #ateez x you #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #atz #atiny

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for asking my wife make dinner?

I (30M) work a fairly physically demanding job 5 days a week. It isn't incredibly hard, but I have lots of joint and muscle issues, including sciatica, and it makes working hard, so when I get home, I often collapse into bed to rest, because it physically hurts to stand any longer.

My wife (25) has a desk job that she performs from home 3-5 days a week (she is expected to work in her office 2 days a week but sometimes it's not necessary). She also spends the majority of her free time working as a staff member for a fandom convention, including running streams at least once a week, holding meetings, or designing various posters for the projects they are always working on.

Today, after I got home from work, I laid down in bed and put on a movie. I made a note of the time, and saw it would be over around 7PM, which is roughly around when I usually make dinner, perhaps a little later than normal. This morning, we had established we would have some fish sticks, but hadn't determined a side to go with it. About 15 minutes before the movie was over, my wife walked by and complained she was hungry. I told her I would get started shortly.

Once the movie was done, I got up and went out into the living room to see what she was up to, before getting started. She whined quite loudly about how hungry she was, once again. This really annoyed me, and I tried to keep from snapping, but I know I sounded very irritated when I asked her what she wanted to have with it, and she flinched away from me (she had a rough childhood growing up around aggressive men, and although that's not the type of person I am, she was still affected by my tone).

The thing that got me was that she was watching YouTube videos herself, and had just been playing video games 20 minutes earlier. She knew what the plan for dinner was, and is an adult woman, so if she was hungry, I don't understand why she didn't start making it herself.

Despite having the more physically taxing job, I am also the one who makes dinner almost every single night. I do the dishes, which is something I hate doing, so they tend to pile up and then make it harder on me, I take out the trash by myself almost all the time, I have to clean the cat box by myself because doing it makes her sick, so I'm not sure why I can't have a break, and she can cook dinner in the air fryer this time.

I also know that she feels bad for leaving the majority of the work for me, but we both struggle with severe depression. It's just that I am the one who ends up giving in because we can't go without dishes, or food, or tossed out scraps rotting in the garbage, so I end up having to do it all.

So, is asking her to cook the fish sticks too much?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[knifebucket]

seriously nothing lets me down, makes me question everything I know, or hurts me more than when I talk to my dad and all of the sudden he's an asshole

#fought with him about rape culture last night #i legitimately cant tell if hes always been like this and i was terrified of conflict or he's gotten worse since i aged out #i really want to believe it's the last one #i hate feeling like i don't have a home because he suddenly reveals that he thinks and feels terrible things #i feel like i should cut him off but also then i would be an orphan and then my terribly abusive birth mother would win #i just cant. i just can't fucking deal. #i almost laid out of work today to be depressed but i had 3 meetings so i didn't and I'm glad i went #but now I'm home and i feel like there's something missing in my guts #i feel like someone blew a cannonball through me but i wasnt soft on the inside so theres just ugly gory cave walls with a hole in the middl #and i will never be able to talk with him about it because he gets SO defensive and SO violent. i would just feel like this again. forever! #i want you to be a good person i NEED you to be a good person but you aren't and that makes me hate myself more than anything ive ever exp #i hope this goes without saying but nobody reblog this. I don't even expect anyone to read it i just needed it out of my body

[sweetchup]

Bi•valve

Noun

an aquatic mollusk that has a compressed body enclosed within a hinged shell, such as oysters, clams, mussels, and scallops.

AKA

The Most Common Seashell in the Ocean

————————

Vol. 2: Into the Deep // Ch. 10

Type: Poseidon x reader

Word Count: 3,500+

⚠️ Warning ⚠️: Mature Content

Masterlist

————————

“This is Triton’s schedule!?” You can’t help but shout out as you are handed the schedule from the butler. Astronomy, Literature, Human History, Mythology, Business, Sword Fighting, Seahorse Riding, The list seemed to go on and on. How could the boy think or even breathe with all of this on his mind?

“Thank you. That’s all for now.” You tell the butler with a sigh as you put the sheet down on the desk, right next to the other stacks of paperwork you had yet to deal with.

It’s been 3 weeks, 3 long and grueling weeks, since your meeting with Scylla. During that time, you have been busy. Not only from etiquette classes and paperwork but also with managing your survival plan.

Yes, a survival plan. You, at first, didn’t want a survival plan—it just didn’t seem that useful—But, after meeting Scylla and learning more, you decided one was absolutely crucial. After all, even in your protected manor, Amphitrite was still a huge threat. Not only just to you either.

With the butler now long gone, you reach down to the last draw of your desk and pull out a couple of sheets of paper. Pieces of paper that laid a simple rough draft of the plan.

So far, you had a Plan A and a Plan B.

Plan A seemed simple. It was to get Amphitrite kicked out of the palace but that was far from as simple it seemed. You thought Poseidon would be rushing to divorce the woman, He hated her after all, But he wasn’t. Working at snail pace was more like it.

“…It seems he needs some sort of push to get her out…” You mumble to yourself as you update a couple of things on the paper. It seemed you would have to come back to this plan later. “…Perhaps I should learn more about Poseidon….”

You quickly shake that idea out of your head. Not a chance. You felt bad for the guy but you weren’t about to become all buddy buddy with him just yet.

“Now as for Plan B…”

Plan B was a lot harder. Plan B was to get Poseidon and Triton to actually have a decent father-son relationship. You, at first, tried having Triton’s schedule free for the past three weeks in hopes Poseidon would stop by. Perhaps to check up on the child now that Amphitrite is gone. But, that was again a wrong guess on your part.

“What to do… I have to at least put one of these plans in soon. It’s not like I can continue ignoring the elephant in the room.” You groan to yourself as you lean back in the chair. On top of your survival plans not working, you had recently discovered that Hermes—who was stopping by a lot—was secretly relaying information to Zeus and the other gods. It seemed they were checking in to see how your progress with seducing Poseidon was going. “I have to kick out Amphitrite sooooon if I want to save myself from facing Zeus’ wrath or, much worse, getting married to Poseidon.”

As you whine to yourself at your bad luck, you miss the door opening as someone sneakily slips in.

“What to do… what to do…” You whine to yourself as you massage your temples, “I have to figure this out soon or—“

Instantaneously, you are cut off as something comes jumping up onto your stomach. Almost knocking you off your chair.

“Huh?” You choke out as you see the familiar head of gold leaning against your chest. His body is smooshed against you as he sits on your lap. Seeming to try to get as close as possible to you, “T-Triton?”

At your call, Triton’s head lifts up to look at you.

“Hello mom!” He says with a smile. A smile that seemed to instantly brighten up the room and your mood. Your depressing thoughts now long forgotten.

However, like everything in the world, things can’t last forever.

“Whatcha looking at mom?” Triton asks as he leans towards the desk to take a look, bringing you back to reality. Casually, well to the best of your ability, you grab a couple of papers and cover them just enough so that Triton couldn’t read them.

“Oh, just paperwork, Triton.”

Surprisingly, Triton seems to perk up at that, “Like what? I bet I can help. Is it finances? Party planning? Invitations? Wages? Fa—“

Quickly, you cut the boy off. “It’s fine, Triton. I don’t need help. Why don’t you go play instead? It looks like a nice day out.”

You are surprised at how Triton lets out a loud huff. Seeming displeased with your suggestion. Unsure of what to do, you sit there frozen. Was it something you said?

“It’s…” Triton mumbles under his breath, the rest of the sentence he mumbles you can’t hear, and you are forced to ask him to repeat. He seems to pause for a moment, seeming hesitant to repeat before finally doing so, “It’s not the same without you….”

“Oh, Triton…” You cood out as you rub the boy’s head, trying to console the boy. A pit of guilt settled in your stomach as you remember that you haven’t spent a lot of time with the boy recently. Especially with being busy and all. “Well…”

You pause as you take a look at the giant stack of paperwork. Could you even leave in the first place with all these things that still need to be done?

If only there was a way to spend time with Triton and get some of the work done at the same time…

As you scan the desk and room for ideas, it suddenly hits you.

“Well. How about you and I pick out your lesson plans?” You suggest to the boy as you reach across the desk and pick up the schedule. The giant scroll-like paper slightly unravels as you loosely hold it in a singular hand.

“Lesson plans?” Triton asks confused as he tilts his head slightly to the side. “Wouldn’t it just be the same as it was before?”

“Not a chance!” You accidentally shout out before catching yourself. Shit, you didn’t mean to raise your voice like that. “This is too much for a boy your age, even if you are god. We need to pick out a balanced schedule that gives you lessons to learn AND enough time to play or relax.”

“So I get to choose…?”

“Pretty much. I mean you would still need to take some classes that you wouldn’t like as some are needed to help you learn as a god. But, if there’s any unneeded classes we will just scrap it.”

.

..

…

“Aren't they all needed…?”

At Triton’s confusion, you can’t help but let out a sigh. Looks like there’s still a lot of work to go with helping this boy act and be happy like a kid his age.

“Not exactly. Here.” You grab onto Triton and lift the boy with you as you stand. “It's better to show you what I mean. Let’s go to each of the classes and pick them off one by one.”

“Ok!” Triton exclaims. His eyes wide and sparkly as he holds onto you, just happy to spend some time with you. Precious boy…

As you walk towards the door to leave, you can’t help but note that Triton felt lighter than usual. Had he possibly lost weight since he arrived? You did notice Triton had smaller portions of food compared to you at meal times. That wasn’t good for a growing boy…

“Seems like I’ll have to pay the chef and cooking staff a visit later…”

—.—.—.—.—

What a nice day, you can’t help but note as you stare up into the sea. Sea turtles and rays swimming high above as they make their way to their destinations.

You were currently standing in the empty grass field between the three manors. The same place you met Poseidon on the night you snuck out to find Triton.

Quickly, as the memory comes to mind, you shake it out of your head. That wasn’t important to you right now and that was because of one simple fact.

Today was Triton’s first day back at lessons. It had taken a lot of work and negotiation but you got the boy a healthy and balanced schedule. You honestly gave yourself a pat on the back once you were finished.

Though, on top of the schedule, you also pulled off another impossible stunt for yourself.

“Mom!”

You spin around as Triton comes sprinting over, books in his hands from his History lesson that just completed. You should tell the boy to slow down but you can’t find it in you to do so. Instead, kneeling down and opening your arms for the boy to jump into.

“Oof—“ You squeak out as you catch Triton, accidentally falling over on your back as you do so. You let out a loud laugh, too happy to even care that you embarrassingly fell over in front of some of the servants that travelled from manor to manor.

Triton didn’t seem to care either as his books were astrew all over the sea grass.

“I was so excited for our first lesson today, mom! It was so hard sitting still in the other classes.” Triton shouts out excitedly as he finally lifts himself off of you, allowing you to sit up.

That’s right. The impossible feat you did. You got your own taught class to be placed into Triton’s Schedule.

You called it “Humanity 101” but, in reality…

“Could we try playing kickball today? I saw a lot of human kids playing it down the street when I stayed at your place.” Triton asks excitedly as he looks through the bag of goodies you brought out.

…It was honestly just an excuse for you and Triton to spend time together with your ever so busy schedule.

“Of course we can play!”

Kickball… Soccer.. Board games… The days seem to fly by as you and Triton do your “classes” and before you know it a week has already gone by. Life is brighter during these days to the point that even the ever so plentiful paperwork doesn’t bother you. But, as you’ve learned in your time staying here many, many times, nothing is forever.

“S-Shit…” You mumble out anxiously under your breath as you attempt to distract yourself with the kickball in your hands. You were in the field yet again waiting for Triton to get out of class. The boy had mentioned yesterday as you walked him to sword practice that he wanted to play a simple game of catch for class the next day. But…

What in the world was this guy doing here?

Hesitantly, you shift your gaze over to Poseidon who stood a couple of feet away on the sidewalk. At first when you saw the male, you thought nothing of it. After all, he seemed to be passing through the area with a group of his attendees.

So, why did he stop? You can’t help but think as you quickly shift your gaze away from the male and back down towards the ground. You just didn’t understand why he dismissed his attendees and chose to stand there and watch you.

Well, he technically wasn’t watching you—His gaze was up to the sky—But, there was no doubt in your mind the guy stayed back for you. Could he perhaps be stalkin—

“Mom!”

Just in time.

You let out a sigh of relief as Triton came running over, just getting out of class. He seems to pick up on Poseidon’s presence, staring at his father for a little bit as he walks over, but chooses not to pay it too much attention. Instead, continuing to run up to you.

“Hello Triton—“ You freeze for a second as a shiver goes up your spine. What the hell? What was this nasty feeling… It felt like you had just been thrown in some sort of ice bath.

As you spin around to see what was causing you to feel this way, you almost instantly figure out why. Poseidon was now staring down at his phone, seeming to have gotten a text message or something, and you could tell he wasn’t in the brightest mood from it either. You could practically feel the blood lust from where you were standing.

“You better not take it out on me…” You grumble underneath your breath, instantly regretting it as Poseidon’s gaze shifts up to glare at you. He couldn’t have heard you… right?

However, you weren’t take any chances this time and turned your attention to Triton. Trying to make it seem that Poseidon accidentally heard something.

“Now. Why don’t we get started? I’ll stand about a few feet away and you—“ Your voice trails off at the end as you stare down at your hands. Your empty hands. Where did the kickball go? You just had it— “Ack!”

You couldn’t believe your eyes as you looked, a gasp, at the kickball that was held… in Poseidon’s hands. How did that fucker…

Actually, never mind, you should have realized before that Poseidon was clearly fast as he was not only a god but also, right in front of you, leaped a large distance to stop that jellyfish that tried to kill you.

“Mom, Are we going to play?” Triton blinks innocently up at you, pure puppy eyes that awaited the game of catch that he wanted to play. Shit, you can’t just allow Poseidon to keep the ball now.

“I-I’ll be right back.” You anxiously tell the Triton as you leave his side. Making your way over to Poseidon. You honestly felt like you were the sacrificial lamb approaching the big bad bully of the playground. Except this time, Poseidon wasn’t just a bully picking on you but an all powerful god that could literally snap you in half with his pinky if he so pleased.

“H-He—“ You don’t even get past the greeting to Poseidon before he grabs the back of your head. Holding you still with one hand and the Kickball in the other, Poseidon started to practically curse you out with god knows what. Honestly, it was just a spew of curses along with your name and other things.

However, across the field, what seemed terrifying to you was way different to someone else.

As Triton observes the scene in front of him, he gets even more confused. In Triton’s point of view, he didn’t pick up on your nervous clammy hands or anxious shifting as being something from Poseidon’s glare. He honestly didn’t even pick up on the fact his father was glaring, he just thought that it was his usual stare.

To him, it looked like you two were chatting as his father held the back of your head. Seeming to tease you as he held the stolen kickball away in his other. But… his father doesn’t tease. He doesn’t even joke around. So, what was going on?

Staring… Clammy Hands… Nervousness… Physical Touch…

Triton lets out a small gasp as a thought hits him. It can’t be true, Triton couldn’t believe it.

His mom and father…

were in love.

He didn’t want to believe it but the evidence was all there. If watching any of those cheesy romance movies taught him anything, it was to identify the signs of falling in love.

At any minute, they look like they could possibly ki…

Triton’s face blushes up at the thought. He just couldn’t believe it. Does this mean mom is now his real real mom?

Triton perks up at the thought. That would be awesome.

“I’ll help you, mom…” Triton mumbles underneath his breath as he looks determined up at you two. He will help you two just like how Uncle Zeus was helping you. Like….What do humans call it…? A wingman. Yeah, he would be your wingman.

“Father! Mom!” At Triton’s shout, it was then that Poseidon finally stopped his heavy train of insults. Oh, Thank goodness for Triton…

“I realized I have to go see one of my teachers for something. Why don’t you guys go play instead?”

You feel yourself choke at Triton’s words. What was he saying?! However, before you can even ask the boy, He was long gone. Leaving you and Poseidon alone, with a grip still on the back of your head.

This was a nightmare for you. Poseidon still looks like he wants to kill you at any moment.

“What a pain.” Poseidon grumbles out under his breath, sending shivers up your spine. You know what… Screw Plan A and B. You now have Plan C, worrying about Poseidon’s constant mood changes so he doesn’t kill you in a fit of rage.

“Hey… why don’t we talk thiS— Eep!” You are cut off as Poseidon picks you up. Instead of his usual hold, he throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You just wished Poseidon knew you could keep up with him perfectly fine so he didn’t have to keep picking you up like this. “Where…Where are we going?”

Silence.

Well, at least he wasn’t angry at you anymore, you think with a sigh as you relax into Poseidon’s hold. Accepting your fate as there was no way to possibly escape from him.

Gods… any of them except Poseidon. Please… help…

—.—.—.—.—

“Oooo…” Triton lets out as he peeps from around the corner. His gaze trained to his father back as he left carrying you.

“I didn’t know father could be so romantic.”

“…Hmm? Triton?”

Triton feels himself jump slightly at the voice behind him. Spinning around, he expected to be caught by some sort of maid or teacher but instead, it was someone else.

“Uncle Zeus? Hermes? And…” Triton’s gaze trails over the third person, “Aunty Aphrodite?”

“Hello dear Triton. It’s been a while~” Aphrodite coos out at the boy in front of her. Slightly leaning down to fondle his cheeks. “Goodness me…Look at how much you’ve grown.”

“T-Thank you.” Triton chokes out with a blush, “I-Uh. W-What are you all doing here?”

Zeus can’t help but chuckle out at the nervous attitude of his nephew. Still ever so shy in front of women it seemed. “I apologize for the surprise visit but we are here to see (y/n).”

“See mom…?” Triton questions out as he looks back and forth between the three. He could understand why Zeus or perhaps Hermes was here to see you but, why Aphrodite?

“Ohh~, I’ve brought a couple of gifts for your mother.” Aphrodite explains with a coy smile as she shows Triton a lidded box.

“Really? What sort of—“ Hermes instantly grabs onto Triton as he attempts to check under the lid of the box. “Huh? Hermes?”

“It’s…It’s specifically for Lady (Y/n), Master Triton.” Hermes answers vaguely as Aphrodite and Zeus laugh at the funny moment that just occurred. That was a close one.

“Specifically for mom?”

Calming herself down, Aphrodite explains more clearly, “It’s women's clothes for your mother. Ones that…Oh Goodness, your father can only see.”

“Ohhhh… Ok.” Triton answers, even if he still doesn’t understand. “Well, Mom just left with dad.”

At this Zeus chokes and Aphrodite almost drops the box, Seemingly shocked at what Triton just said. Even Hermes was startled but he still, somehow, keeps a cool head and quickly hides his reaction.

“What do you mean by that Master Triton?” Hermes asks for an alaberation as the other two nod. Thinking they were simply misunderstanding something like Poseidon giving paperwork to you compared to you two actually hanging out.

“Well, Dad stole the ball from mom to tease her.” Hermes and the others feel themselves freeze at Triton’s words. Poseidon…Teasing a human? “So, mom walked over and they started talking… No, flirting with each other.”

“Flirting?” Zeus asks, surprised as he strokes his beard. He would usually take others' words with a grain of salt as they could perhaps be lying but, this was Triton. The boy has probably never even lied in his entire life.

“Yeah, so I decided to leave to give them some space and after I’m gone, I was actually hiding around the corner here, Father picks mom and throws her over his shoulder. They walked that way so… I think they are heading to father’s manor.”

“Oh, Isn’t Amphitrite out today…?” Zeus chuckles out, a nasty thought filtering into his brain. Could they possibly be going to do…

“A-Aunty Aphrodite?” Triton chokes out cautiously, catching Zeus’ attention.

“Oh ho ho. Be careful, Aphrodite. You are scaring the boy.” Zeus says, not exactly meaning his words as he reprimands the woman. Knowing that from how she was crushing the box in her hands and how hard she was biting her lip that she was too lost in her nasty thoughts to even listen.

“H-How Scandalous!” Aphrodite squeals out as she clutches the box to her chest, seeming to grow faint from all her excitement, “Zeus, I need your opinion on this. Could they possibly be—“

Triton’s hearing is instantly blocked off by Hermes as Aphrodite and Zeus continue to talk. The younger boy looks up at his cousin in confusion but doesn’t say anything. The only thought running in his mind being.

Why was Hermes' face turning so red?

Author Note: very Quick author note before I forget. Hahah this was kind of a messy funny chapter so I hope people still enjoyed this one. I wanted a fun moment of misunderstanding to help join into the next chapter thursday. Where Chapter 11 will pick up back with Poseidon and Reader. Also R.I.P Triton. Feel bad for putting my baby through meeting Aphrodite.

Taglist: @angeli-fucking-cat @marixxhq @sproutcorner @orophaea @anime-lover-forever-1127 @fortuna-stella @icy-spicy

#snv poseidon x reader #snv #snv poseidon #record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #bivalve

[cuttinqlines]

IN THE MIDNIGHT HOUR II

                             IN THE MIDNIGHT HOUR II

(richard ramirez [ahs 1984] x reader | mainly implied xavier plympton x reader)

trigger warning; drug use, toxic relationships, mentions of abuse, toxic characters, xavier is portrayed as a major piece of shit for the first few installments, glorification of a serial killer, knives, etc.

disclaimer: i do not support the real richard ramirez in any way, shape, or form. this is simply based on the fictional version from ahs 1984. no disrespect is intended in any way. please, feel free to click off of the fic if you don’t enjoy this type of content. any hate will be ignored.

word count: 2,467

a/n: sorry this took so long. im a depressed piece of shit lmao. 

taglist: @kuollut-talven @felicityofbakerstreet @bitchcraft1398 

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IT HAD ONLY been a few days since your run-in with the self-proclaimed ‘Night Stalker’ yet it felt like years had passed. The memory of the event was constantly running through your mind, seeming to occupy your every thought. It was as if your mind was filled only with visions of dark hair and piercing dark eyes. It had gotten to the point where it was consuming you, distracting you from anything that wasn’t the thought of him. It was impossible to focus. You weren’t exactly sure that you wanted to. The part of you that desperately longed for the dark stranger to reappear and tear you away from your dilapidating life was overtaking you. You had almost wished that you would have given in to his demands that night. Almost. Something had been holding you back that night and something- someone- was still holding you back, tethering you to the place you had grown to despise.

Letting out a sigh, you stared at yourself in front of the bathroom mirror, attempting to shake away the thoughts that continuously plagued you. The ghost of a bruise still showed underneath your eye, barely noticeable with the makeup that you had delicately applied over it. You looked better than you had in the days before, but you still weren’t keen on leaving the confines of the four walls of your bedroom, let alone your apartment. You hadn’t left the house since that night. You were sure everyone thought that you were spiraling- He had probably twisted the story into that narrative. You turned away from the mirror, leaning against the base of the sink. It was time to face the situation at hand. You could already feel the silent judgment of Montana. She had told you so.  “Fuck.”

It shouldn’t have mattered that much to you- what everyone thought. It’s not like they had too much room to judge. They were your friends, sort of, but they didn’t rule you. They weren’t the end all be all. Still, you couldn’t help but feel nervous at the thought of facing them. It had been days of voicemails, knocks on the door, and missed phone calls. You had gone ghost. They wouldn’t have expected anything else, though. It wasn’t unlike you to disappear. You were used to disappointing everyone. 

After a few more minutes of anxiety and deliberation, you laid out a pretty white line, snorted it down, and got ready to head out the door. At the very least, you could show up to aerobics and casually run into everyone. By the time you got there, you were sure you could figure out how to gloss over all of the problems that kept on appearing. 

****

The Aerobics studio hadn’t changed much in your week of absence. The faces of the instructors were still plastered on the walls, yours still included much to your surprise. The chairs strategically placed throughout the lobby were occupied by young adults, laughing at something one of them had said. The ambiance was peaceful and you suddenly wished that you would have shown up for work in the last week. The thought quickly diminished as you thought back to the bruise that had been occupying your face. There was no way you would have shown up with that. You wouldn’t have given him the satisfaction. Stepping up to the front desk, you leaned against the counter lazily. 

“Hi. Do you have any classes with vacant spaces open for today, Janice?” You asked the receptionist a bit awkwardly, looking at the wall behind her as you spoke.

The woman looked up, purposefully making direct eye contact. She looked you up and down, judgement written all over her face.  “Yes. The instructor position for the class you teach at 6:30, (Y/N). If you want to keep your job, I suggest you get prepared for it and go teach it.” 

You couldn’t help but cringe at her tone. The attitude dripped off of it like poison. Truth be told, you had thought that you had already been fired. That is generally what happens after you drop off of the face of the planet for a week. “Right- I’ll just go ahead and get set up to start, then. Thank you.”

“You’re lucky that you showed up today. You’re really pushing it with your delinquent behavior. Shape up or ship out, sweetheart. This is the last time you’re getting exceptions. You’re really lucky that Montana covered your classes for the week. Now, get moving. It’s 6:20. Studio 3.”

Janice hardly gave you time to react, as she stood up and began to push you towards the direction of the studio. Her cold touch caused an unpleasant shiver to shoot through your spine. Your mind instantly drifted to your unwelcome house guest, though the shiver he gave you was not exactly unpleasant- You mentally scolded yourself for obsessing over the ‘Night Stalker’, before practically bursting into the studio. 

It felt as if a million eyes landed on you from the moment you opened the door. The never-ending stares seemed to burn holes into your skin. One pair of eyes, in particular, seemed to stare the deepest. Xavier. You flickered your gaze to meet his, the other people in the room disappearing into a sort of tunnel that consumed the sides of your vision. Your heart caught in your chest. You wanted to tear your eyes away, but there was something stopping you. Something about Xavier always seemed to hold you back. His gaze was pleading, an apology seeming to spill out of it. 

 “(Y/N)! I thought you were going to be out for a while! Xavier said that you were like super sick or something.” Montana’s voice rang out, casually. “So happy you’re here though. Teaching this class has been such a drag.”

At the sound of the young woman’s voice, your head instinctively jerked towards it. You plastered a pained smile onto your face. “Yeah- thanks for covering for me, Montana. I seriously owe you one. Being sick was a major drag. Probably worse than teaching this class of Cyndi Lauper obsessed boys.” 

The blonde let out a laugh. “Well, since you’re back, I’ll let you take this one. And maybe take your man out when you’re done. He’s been such a buzzkill lately.” 

Montana gave you a wink, patting your shoulder affectionately. With a final wave to you and Xavier, she slipped out the door and disappeared down the hall with a flash of blonde hair. Not wanting to waste any more time, or give Xavier the chance to talk to you, you flicked the boom box on and let the sound of Billy Idol’s voice fill the room. 

****

The entirety of the class went by uneventfully. Billy Idol’s soothing tone seemed to temporarily soother your anxiety, making it easier for you to ignore the pained glances that were becoming more and more inescapable. You left the music on as the class drew to a close, turning the volume down to a soft, but audible hum. You didn’t bother to look as everyone made their way to the door. Instead, you moved towards the front of the room, letting yourself face the large windows that looked out towards the city. 

You watched as people leaving the last few classes of the evening walked down the sidewalk, off into the night. Some faces were familiar, regulars that always seemed to be in aerobics class. Other faces, unfamiliar and new. They all seemed so happy, as if their lives were perfect. You wished that you could get a taste of that feeling. You continued to admire the citizens of Los Angeles, lost in your thoughts. Then, in a sudden flash, there was a single face that stuck out in the crowd. Unmistakable dark hair and piercing eyes that could have belonged only to the face that you could never forget. You locked eyes with the man, causing a sinister smile to appear on his face. He moved closer to the building. Your heart skipped a beat. He was headed towards the door. Your eyes were still locked with his, nothing could-

“(Y/N)... Can we talk about what happened the other night? Please… I didn’t mean for it to go so far.” Xavier’s voice hit your ears, soft and pleading. 

You broke away from the ‘Night Stalker’s’ gaze, slowly turning to face the man that you had once felt so strongly for. You leaned against the windows behind you, pressing your nearly bare back against the cool glass. Xavier took a few steps closer, leaving only a few inches between your faces. You couldn’t help but flinch as he reached out to tenderly touch your face. Hurt flashed across his face briefly, but his hand still gently came into contact with your soft skin. You let your eyes flutter closed and sucked in a sharp breath. “I- I can’t do this,” you whispered, hot tears pricking in the inner corner of your eyes. So many different emotions were running through your body. The urge to run away from him had never been so heightened. 

He grazed his thumb gingerly across your jawline, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Please. I just wanted it so badly and I thought that was the only way. And I didn’t want anyone to find out. The way you looked at me when you did- I lost it. I thought you would tell everyone. I thought you would leave me. I’m so sorry.” 

You had yet to respond to him when a cutting voice interrupted the scene unfolding before you. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” The deep voice questioned, sinister laughter etched into his tone. 

“N-?” You began, eyes flickering open. You met the dark haired man’s eyes, looking directly past Xavier. He was already staring at you intensely, the usual smirk plastered on his face. 

“Richard.” He corrected, moving his eyes from you to the other man in your company. Xavier had moved away from you by this point, looking at Richard with a suspicious glare. Richard simply continued to smirk at him, looking more and more devilish as time passed. “My little angel, didn’t expect to see you so soon. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Okay. Who the fuck are you?” Xavier demanded, his hand wrapping around your forearm in a protective manner. You instinctively recoiled to his touch. You shifted your weight from one foot to another, watching as the two began to go back and forth. 

“I’m the devil’s favorite prodigy. It’s more like ‘who the fuck are you?’” The other man taunted. His eyes locked on the contact point of yours and Xavier’s skin. An unreadable emotion flashed across his face, but was quickly replaced with his usual infuriating smirk. “I’ve decided I’m here to collect her. Truth be told, it wasn’t originally in my master and I’s plan, but it seems like I stumbled in at the perfect time, with you harassing my girl.”

“Your-? (Y/N), are you fucking this guy? We get into one fight and you’re off giving it out to this creep?” The blonde questioned, his tone demanding and incredulous. His voice rose with every word that he spoke. He was red in the face by this point. You could tell by the clench in his jaw and the way his hand tightened around you that he was angry. The smug expression of Richard definitely wasn’t helping his reaction either.

You tried to ignore the fear that had begun to creep into the back of your mind, your mind flashing back to his closed fist accidentally ramming into your face. You looked up at him with your tear stained face. Words were failing you. You didn’t exactly want to say that Richard had broken into your house, pinned you against a wall, and sparked something inside of you that made you feel so many fucked up things. Was it really more fucked up than what you felt about Xavier after everything that he had done? You weren’t so sure any more. Xavier seemed to take your silence and lack of denial as a ‘yes’ to his questions. Disgust took over his face, his hand tossing your arm away as if it had suddenly turned into some sort of cursed object. 

He scoffed at you, shoving you away from his body. “I can’t believe you would do this to me. Maybe you deserved that.” He spat out venomously, angrily gesturing to the hardly hidden  bruise underneath your eye. 

You flinched as his hand raised. Something seemed to click into place for the dark haired man as he watched the two of you, your reaction triggering the darkest part of him. You hardly had time to react further, before Richard was in front of you. His left arm pressed back against your body, gently shoving you behind him. His right hand was adorned with his blade, ready to slash at the man before him. “You did that to her? For your sake, I hope you say no. I’d hate to have to kill you right here. It would really throw a wrench into the master’s plans and we both hate that.”

Your hand reached out slowly, tugging on the edge of this sleeve, beckoning his eyes to meet your eyes. He complied, looking over his shoulder quickly. You shook your head at him, a silent plea for him to drop it. He was already acting psychotic enough to have the police called on him and you were sure that would be the last thing that he wanted. He looked back to Xavier, who was staring at him incredulously. “Get the fuck out of here or die,” The dark haired man spat out.

Xavier gave you a pointed look, before shoving past the both of you and storming out of the studio. You knew he would show up at your apartment later, demanding explanations for the psychotic interaction that just went down. You would figure out a way to avoid that later. For now, your full attention was on Richard. He turned towards you, dark eyes studying the every feature on your face. His hand hovered over the side of your neck, before gently pushing your hair to the side. His fingers softly trailed down the side of your throat, traveling down your chest. Like a phantom, they grazed the length of your body, sending a shiver down your spine. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. You softly bit down on your bottom lip, eyes staring straight into his. “You’re mine now, little angel. I’ll kill for you. I’ll die for you. But you have to be mine forever- That’s the catch. Will you sell your soul to the devil?”

“I will.”

#ahs 1984 #ahs fanfiction #ahs x reader #richard ramirez #richard ramirez x reader #night stalker #In The Midnight Hour #american horror 1984 #xavier plympton #xavier x reader

[alpacaparkaseok]

The Pact - Shocker

Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS

Word Count: 8.1k

Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?

Warnings: angst, lots of feelings, but a lot of those are fluffy, happy feelings lol

a/n: there’s not much left so say except for thank you. I hope you enjoy, I tried my best!

Shocker (finale)

series masterlist

“Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood.” -George Orwell ‘1984’

Sunday, 3:12 am – immediately following the events of date #7

           The fact that the lights are still on isn’t surprising in the least. It’s been like this after every date. Yoongi is no exception, apparently.

           He pauses outside the door, resting his hand gently against the doorknob. It’s nearly silent, but he can hear familiar voices speaking in hushed tones on the other side of the door. He stares at the dark door, unable to shake the memory of your tear-stained cheeks and swollen ankle from his mind. You had sounded so worried, so afraid of what comes next.

           You’d mumbled out his name when you made it to your bed, the exhaustion on your face momentarily replaced with a look he could only interpret as blind fear. And the way you’d looked at him, wide eyed with a quivering lip…he doesn’t think you noticed, but he nearly caved. He almost laid down beside you and taken you into his arms, deeming the time on the beach not enough.

           With you, it was never enough. Slivers of time and longing looks you never noticed; it would never be enough.

           If the botched date wasn’t evidence enough, it was then, when you gazed up at him and mumbled out his name, Yoongi knew.

           Tonight…it wasn’t enough.

           So he just leaned forward and watched how your eyes fluttered shut as he pecked your nose.

           “I know.”

          Jungkook straightens up from where he was slumped on the couch beside Jin the second the door opens and Yoongi walks in. The scattered conversation that they had all been using as a distraction fades out as each boy focuses in on the newcomer.

           Hobi is practically invisible beneath the huge sweatshirt he wears, his face barely visible as he speaks. “How was it?”

           For some reason or another, there’s always been a postdate analysis of sorts. It’s usually just like this: all of the boys gathered up in the living room in various states of consciousness. Jimin was the only one to slide by without an impromptu meeting after his date, partially because he was too exhausted to see straight and also because everyone knew he’d tell them all the details at breakfast the next morning. He did, and Taehyung actually managed to break a bowl when he lost it over the story of how you and Jimin got kicked out of the basilica.

           Namjoon, on the other hand, had been pretty grim when he realized that Jimin had been teasing you endlessly about your little kiss.

           Now, Yoongi shuffles inside and plops down unceremoniously beside Namjoon, who looks a little worried at the silence. Dropping his heads in his hands, Yoongi rubs at his face before leaning back against the couch.

           “It was fine, if you don’t count the twisted ankle.”

           “What?” Jimin sputter out, suddenly wide awake. “She got hurt?”

           “What happened?” Hobi follows up, leaning forward until he’s nearly slipping off of the couch. “Is she alright?”

           Yoongi is quick to explain your little accident, omitting your tears from the storytelling. He doesn’t want to embarrass you or make the others feel bad. The others listen with rapt attention, Jungkook’s mouth in a little ‘o’ all throughout.

           Jin remains silent on the couch, as he usually does during these little meetings. He’ll occasionally comment on something or voice a question, but he tends to remain fairly quiet. Drinking in the information, eyes clear despite the late hour.

           It’s unnerving.

           “So…it’s not a bad injury?” Namjoon asks, crossing his arms.

           “No, she’s fine,” Yoongi reassures. “Just tired. She went straight to bed after I dropped her off.”

           Taehyung grins knowingly. “Adorable.”

           Everyone is silent as everyone turns to their thoughts, the same thing on everyone’s mind. It’s Hobi again that breaks the silence, stretching and yawning as he gets to his feet.

           “Well, that’s that. It’s over. Gentlemen,” he eyes everyone around the room, shuffling toward the hallway where the warmth of his bed calls to him. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

           “Wait!” Jungkook also hops to his feet, much more alert than the older boy. “What happens now?”

           There are a few non-committal answers from around the room, but two people remain silent. Meeting eyes from across the space, Jin and Yoongi share a silent agreement.

           Jin clears his throat, and it’s only then that the boys realize that it’s been hours since he last spoke. With a soft smile he utters, “We let her choose. Whatever she wants, if she wants to go back to normal or decides to date someone.” His eyes return to Yoongi, and suddenly the memory of two years prior is laid out before them. “Then…we let her go.”

           “I’m just saying, if he didn’t want you to find it, he would’ve hidden it in his underwear drawer. Sock drawer is a stupid way to go.”

           You sip at the horchata Gina brought over for you, huffing out a laugh. “You’re so weird.”

           Gina shrugs. “Just saying. So what did you get up to yesterday?”

           Yesterday. You had woken up with red eyes and puffy cheeks from all the crying you had done the night before. Slightly embarrassed but more feeling miserable for yourself, you had crawled to the shower and tried to get your thoughts straight.

           When you emerged, you had a couple of texts to welcome you. They were from Jimin and Taehyung, welcoming you back to the groupchat. There were plenty of happy emojis and balloons taking up the messages, enough to make you crack a smile. You shot back a thank you text, letting out a sigh of relief.

           It was good to be back.

           When Namjoon texted and tentatively asked about the state of your ankle and if you were open to them popping over, you took nearly an hour to decide. Nervous about seeing all of them, cautious because you had no idea what would happen if you were in the same room.

           Who would you radiate toward, without even realizing?

           It was then, when that question popped up, that you realized that you had known the answer all along.

           It was startling, how the answer had been there all along. So simple, yet so unattainable.  

           “The boys wanted to check in on me,” you sigh, glaring down at your ankle. It’s still sore, but much better today. Although it’s safe to say you won’t be flying kites anytime soon.

           “But…?”

           “The thought of all seven of them in my little apartment at the same time was overwhelming,” you admit. “I needed a minute. To think. And I know I’ve had weeks to think about it, but yesterday was the first time I felt like I could see the full picture…if that makes sense.”

           Gina nods thoughtfully, reaching over to refill your glass of horchata. The sun is steadily making its way to the horizon, another day wrapping up. “It does. You’ve been going out with someone different each week, you’re probably suffering from information overload after all of those dates and the confession on the pact…how are you not exhausted?”

           “I was yesterday. I was torn – Gina, I want to go back to normal so bad. Just the way it was.”

           “Ignorance is bliss.”

           You set your glass down, pushing back from the table and crossing your arms. “Wouldn’t that be better?” You muse. “That way, nobody gets hurt.”

           Gina tilts her head to one side, eyes flashing. A smirk forms on her face. “You wouldn’t be saying this if you hadn’t already decided on someone.” She leans forward in her seat, staring into your soul. “Who?”

           You school your features into a neutral position. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

           “No, no. You don’t get to shut me out. You have feelings for someone, don’t you!” Gina points an accusing finger at you, letting out a startled laugh. “You totally do! What went on in your head, yesterday? Or maybe you’ve loved them for a while, and this is what it took to realize it-”

           “I can’t do it, Gina.” Your eyes are wide as you plead more with yourself than her. “I can’t do that to the others.”

           “And what, you plan to just let him go?”

           Dropping your head into your hands, you squeeze your eyes shut. “Do I have another choice?”

           The scrape of the chair against the floor alerts you to Gina rising from her seat, and you expect her to leave. She has every right to, you’re frustrated with yourself as well. However, a second later she’s rubbing your back, urging you to look up. Once you do, she offers you a small smile.

           “You always have a choice.”

           Gina stays for a couple more hours, offering her support as you blubber on about how worried you are. While your heart is urging you to throw caution to the wind and go after what you’ve wanted for longer than you ever realized before, your mind does a great job of conjuring up different reactions from the others.

           All of them are depressing. Every time you close your eyes you’re met with the crestfallen expressions of your best friends. Scenarios play out in your head, where you’re blissfully happy for a few seconds before everything comes tumbling down.

           “You’ve gotta get out of your head,” Gina chides as she eases off the couch. “You’re miserable.”

           You sigh, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s just…I can’t do anything. I can’t. That’s horrible of me.”

           “They’re grown boys; they knew what they were getting themselves into with this. Just…tell me something before I head out.”

           “…ok.”

           Gina pauses before the door, hands on her hips. “Why him? Because from where I’m sitting, they all love you.”

           The question takes you by surprise, but the answer is rolling off your tongue in an instant. “I want to be loved, yes. But more than that…I want to be understood.” You stare at a framed photo on the wall, solemn. “He understands me.”

           You don’t hear when Gina leaves, the thoughts in your head too loud. Instead you stay seated on the couch, chewing on your lip. Wondering.

           Remembering.

           All the times he’d been there – he was always there for you, how could you never notice? – never drawing attention to himself. Just there. Just in case you needed him.

           What’s stopping you?

           A knock on the door stops your train of thought, and you hobble up to your feet. Swinging the door open you say, “Did you forget something?”

           Jin stands on your porch, clutching a garment bag to his chest. His ears are bright red, set aflame by the setting sun. He’s wearing his glasses, which he pushes up on his nose. “I…no?”

           “Oh!” You step back, wincing a little from your ankle. “I thought you were Gina! I…hey.”

           “Hey.” Shuffling on his feet, Jin looks down at the bag he’s holding, seeming to remember why he was here in the first place. “Oh, here. I know it’s a little late, but I got your dress dry cleaned and…well, yeah. Here you go.”

           His hands tremble a bit, but you don’t comment as you take the bag from him. “Thank you. Your sweater is actually hanging up in my room…why don’t you come in while I grab it?”

           “Can I?” Jin looks down at your doorstep, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t want to intrude…”

           “Just come in!” You call over your shoulder, already heading down the hallway. “This will only take a second. Besides, it’s cold outside.”

           The door clicks shut, Jin stepping inside and shoving his hands in his pockets. You rush inside your room, throwing your dress on a hanger in the closet and scanning your clothes for Jin’s blue sweater. When you find it – grinning at the whale on the front – you pause. Holding it in your hands, you take a deep breath.

           “Hey,” Jin’s voice rings out down the hallway. You catch a slight tremble in his tone, which is mirrored by your shaking hands. “I a-actually wanted to talk to you for a second. If that’s ok…?”

           Clearing your voice of the emotion that’s riding you, you respond. “Just come down here.”

           A second later Jin is tentatively peeking inside your room, giving you a nervous smile. His eyes then land on your dresser, widening a bit.

           “So you did steal my copy!”

           Gasping, you toss Jin’s sweater at him and lunge for the dresser. There’s the pact, out in the open for anyone to see. “I- I was gonna give it back-”

           “I can’t believe you’d steal from me.”

           “It was for a good cause!”

           Jin rolls his eyes, laughing as he snatches the pact from you and holds it up in the air. “Nuh-uh, I’m taking this home with me. You’ve had it for long enough.” He makes a point of folding it up and sticking it in his back pocket, staring down at you with an amused expression.

           Suddenly you’re transported to his living room, dancing in his arms. Staring up at him like he put the stars in the sky while he looks at you like you’re the forbidden fruit.

           Is that why he’s here, now? To finally give in to the temptation?

           From the way the smile slides off his lips, you can tell that he’s remembering the same moment. His mouth opens a bit, looking as though he’s about to speak. After a moment, it shuts. Then he slowly reaches out, arms encircling you as he studies your expression. Waiting for any moment of discomfort.

           The second Jin pulls you into his embrace and you rest your head against his chest, his shoulders deflate and he lets out a long sigh.

           It’s not a sigh of relief.

           “Do you remember the first time we hung out together? Jimin wanted to bring you to the Spring Day set, and it was freezing. We were all complaining about our toes falling off and yelling at Namjoon for writing about such a cold song.”

           You chuckle, nodding. Jin’s voice rumbles through his chest as he continues. “I thought that it was so embarrassing, too. We were complaining like kids in front of Jimin’s pretty friend. I figured that you’d never want to hang out with us again. I’ll never forget how angry Jimin was with us after, saying that we were probably making you uncomfortable. Obviously, we all said that it was stupid of him to bring you to a freezing music video set for our first meeting.”

           Jin tightens his grip, laying his cheek atop your head and swaying gently back and forth. You’re not sure if he even realizes that he does it, but you don’t ask. Not as he’s walking down memory lane. It feels like it’s been centuries since you first met.

           “You know what I remember the most about you from that day?”

           You hum, nuzzling in a little closer. Hanging on for just a moment longer.

           “You never complained. Like, at all.” Jin cups your chin, making you look up at him. He smiles softly, but his eyes are sad. “I thought it was a superpower or something, seriously. You just smiled and joked around with Jungkook and Tae. If you were cold or uncomfortable or even weirded out by us, you didn’t say anything.”

           You roll your eyes, latching your hands behind Jin’s back. “I was definitely weirded out, but I didn’t want Jimin to feel bad. He was so excited for me to meet you guys.”

           Jin chuckles, the sound momentarily warming you up. “But the point is, you didn’t complain. You’ve always been like that. Even now, being dragged on seven dates and having to deal with us figuring out our own feelings, you never once complained. You never backed away.”

           The sadness that lingers in Jin’s eyes has you tightening your hold, wondering how to get rid of that sorrow. Your train of thought is interrupted when Jin brushes back a strand of hair, softly tucking it behind your ear.

           “You are beautiful and a wonder. You will always be important to me, no matter where life takes us. You will always be that person that I’ll drop everything for, ok?” Jin takes another long, adoring look at you before reaching behind him and gathering your hands in his. He slowly pulls away from you, staring down at where he holds your hands. “I might be an idiot at times, but I can tell when I’m in the way.”

           As he takes a step back, you watch as he drops your hands. “Jin, wait,” you reach out, grasping his arm as he moves to turn away. “Jin- Seokjin, what’s going on-”

           “You and Yoongi have that in common, did you know that?” Jin offers you a close-lipped smile, placing his hand on yours where you cling to his jacket. His thumb swipes over your knuckles once – twice – before he’s stepping back yet again. “Neither of you are complainers. I mean sure, there’s the funny complaints that everyone makes. But he has a penchant for suffering silently. I’d say he’s a bit of a masochist, but that’d be a lie. He just cares.”

           Jin has made it to your doorway now, where he pauses and leans against the doorframe. He crosses his arms, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought, a faraway look in his eyes. “I think he doesn’t know what to do with it, all those feelings. He just cares so much, about everyone. For you.”

           “Jin,” you gasp out, “what are you doing?”

           One corner of his lips pull up in a smirk. “Me?” He shifts his weight to his other leg. “Letting go.”

           “What are you even talking about?”

           “Don’t get me wrong, I intend to complain. You’ll get an official complaint in the mail soon enough, just give it three to five business days to get here. But I realized something a little while ago: complainers always find some new to complain about. And while that sucks, it also means that they move on. They find something new, no matter how long it takes.”

           He keeps looking at you with that sad smile, and it’s ripping the ground out from under you. You want to scream, throw something, or perhaps dissolve into tears. But nothing happens. You just keep breathing.

           In.

           Then out.

           And Jin keeps speaking. He’s rambling now, something he does when he’s nervous. His brows are still furrowed, and you wonder if he’s making this up as he goes. If the only thing he knew what that he had to find a way in, only to find a way out.

           “As twisted as my logic sounds, I think it gives me hope. Eventually, I’ll be ok. Probably be complaining about the weather or maybe even a girl in no time. Just give me some time, and I’ll bounce back.”

           “Jin,” you croak out. “…you don’t complain, not about these things. Why are you doing this? S-stop doing this.”

           “But it’s like I said: Yoongi doesn’t complain. Jagiya, I know him. Better than you do.” Jin closes his eyes, pinching them shut before opening them again. “He’ll never get over you. I mean it. And if my logic holds true…that means that you’ll never move past him, either.”

           Folding his sweater over his arm, Jin steps back into the hallway. You step forward, your stomach churning.

           “Seokjin!”

           He hesitates for a single heartbeat, almost looking like he’ll turn back around and declare it all some twisted joke. Like he’ll pull you back into his arms and admit that he’s been inside his memories for the past two weeks, replaying “La Vie en Rose” as he lies awake at night.

           But he doesn’t. He refuses to look at you as he marches down the hallway. As he walks, he continues to speak.

           “I was angry that night, when you called him instead of me. When you accidentally deleted your essay. He left, and I was stuck at home, pining after you like some teenage boy. I think even then, I knew that it wouldn’t be me in the end. But I’d die trying.” He laughs, joking but it doesn’t come off very funny.

           It’s when he’s reached the door and goes to pull it open that you call out to him again, sounding like you’re on the verge of tears. “But it was you, wasn’t it?” You run a hand through your hair. “You wrote the note, o-on the back of the pact.”

           With his hand on the doorknob, Jin glances back at you over his shoulder. Now you understand why he couldn’t stand to look at you a moment earlier. Those are tears glistening in his eyes.

           He looks at you for a long moment, eyes so clear and bare that you can see the very moment he lays down his weapons and admits defeat. “Would it change anything?”

           He’s already twisting the doorknob, but just before he opens the door, he hesitates. Waiting for an answer, you realize. Some small part of him still pulses with hope, even after all he’s said.

           You can’t give that hope.

           “There’s a difference, you know,” Jin mumbles, eyes dropping. “Just because I loved you first doesn’t mean I can love you the best. I think sometimes the world forgets that.”

           And then he’s gone.

           In.

           Out.

           Perhaps the most shocking development has been the fact that you’re still breathing. When Jin leaves your apartment, the sky doesn’t fall. Your heart, while aching, doesn’t shatter into a million little pieces. The quiet hum of your dishwasher continues on, oblivious to all that’s transpired.

           A few tears slip down your cheeks, which you quickly wipe away. When your dishwasher buzzes, you drift over to it as though in a daze. Wiping your hands on your dishtowel, you move to open the dishwasher.

           But it’s that dishtowel with stitched stars that Yoongi gifted you forever ago. Stars.

           You are the stars I’ve been reaching for ever since that night.

           Snatching the towel from where it hands off your oven, you fumble for your phone. Dishes long forgotten, you bring the phone up to your ear and nervously tap your foot. “C’mon, c’mon…”

           “Jagiya?”

           “Hobi!”

           “Hey, what’s up? How’s your ankle?”

           You chew on your lip, struggling to regain composure. “I- yeah. The ankle’s fine. Look, I need to cash in my question now.”

           Hobi chuckles on the other side of the phone. “That’s what I was afraid of. Wanna come over to the studio?”

           “Be there soon.”

           It’s dark outside, countless stars winking down at you as you hurry inside the Hybe building. You throw a glare up at them, wondering if they were in on it the entire time. If the stars have always been aware that Min Yoongi had no interest in them, much preferring your company to the twinkling lights in the heavens.

It’s your first time in here, the boys having recently moved into the new building. As such, you’re instantly disoriented. At a loss for where to go, you call Hobi.

“Hey, where…?”

“Turn around!”

You whirl around to see the elevator doors sliding open, Hobi hopping out. “Hey, you made it!” He instantly pulls you in for a hug, which you gratefully receive. “Everything ok, jagi?”

It’s then that you realize how you must look. Tear-stained cheeks and tired eyes don’t make for the best combination. “Oh…yeah. I’m alright.”

Hobi doesn’t believe you at all, but he doesn’t push it. Not here, out in the open lobby. Instead he pulls you into the elevator, punching one of the buttons. “Long day?”

You laugh quietly, leaning up against the wall of the elevator. “A little, yeah. What about you? What are you up to?”

“Oh, we’re recording a new Japanese OST. Wanna listen to it once we get up there?”

“Is that even a question?”

It feels unbelievably good to be here with Hobi, falling into an easy conversation despite the nervousness coursing through your veins. Once you reach the eighth floor, Hobi leads you down the hallway toward a closed door.

“What’s that?” He asks, pointing to where you still hold the dishtowel in your hands.

You blink, not even realizing that you brought it in with you. “Oh…um…part of my question, I think?”

Hobi chuckles, pausing outside of the door. “I was wondering when you were gonna use that question.”

At the end of your date with Hobi two months ago, he’d allowed you two questions about whatever you wanted to know. You only asked one, wanting to keep the other for a future time. You never thought it would lead to this.

“Ok, let’s head inside.”

Your eyes widen, but Hobi doesn’t notice as he pushes the door open and strides inside. The sight that greets you makes you want to sink through the floor.

Namjoon and Jungkook sit in front of the recording equipment, while Taehyung and Jimin lounge on the couches at the back of the room. Yoongi is busy on the other side of the glass, eyes closed as he raps into the mic. His dark hair is straight, kissing his brows while he clenches his fists at his sides,

You’re frozen in place as suddenly you’re surrounded by his voice. It’s lilting, more like singing than rapping. The words coming from his mouth stop your heart.

“Don't have to be right, just wanted you to stay the way you are, kindhearted, always smiling, but-”

“Hey!” Taehyung jumps up from his seat, alerting everyone to your presence. “You’re here!”

Jungkook swivels around in his chair, wide eyes crinkling as he grins. Namjoon quietly greets you, cheeks pink as he struggles to focus on the task at hand.

It’s Jimin that notices how lost you look. “Everything alright?” He ambles over to you, bending his knees a bit to look at you. He grabs your shoulder, eyes scanning your face. “Jagiya? Want to sit down?”

But you’re still clinging to Hobi, one hand wrapped up in the fabric of his jacket. “I…actually, Hobi, weren’t you gonna show me your new studio?”

You look back at Hobi, aware that everyone in the room is now staring at him as well with confused looks. You give Hobi a pleading look, but not before you see someone on the other side of the glass.

Yoongi stands before the microphone, frowning as he looks at you. As you lock eyes, he tilts his head to one side and mouths a single word.

Jin?

“I…uh, yeah. Yeah, let’s go look at it first and then come right back, right?” Hobi says, the confusion clear in his voice. Thankfully, he doesn’t question you and instead steps back through the door. “Be right back, guys.”

Just before you walk away, you turn back to try to communicate to Yoongi that you’re here for him, not Jin. But he’s gone, the side door to the studio still swinging from where he walked out.

           Your head is still spinning by the time Hobi heads into his own studio, hardly pausing to admire it before he’s whipping around to face you. The second he closes the door, he’s crossing his arms and giving you a worried look.

           “What was that all about?” He asks. “What’s going on?”

           “Hobi,” you croak out. “Hobi, I need help. I need answers.”

           Plopping down on his cushiony swivel chair, you squint at him. You can feel a headache coming on.

           “I can’t give you the answers if you don’t ask the questions, jagi,” Hobi chides, pulling up another chair to sit in front of you. His gaze catches on your wrist. “You still wear the bracelet I made you?”

           You pause, glancing down at the bracelet. “Of course. Everyday.”

           Hobi smiles softly to himself before leaning back and letting out a long sigh. “Ok. Tell me what’s going on.” He eyes the star-spangled dishtowel still in your hands. “I assume this is about Yoongi?”

           “I…how did you know?”

           He nods to the towel, chuckling softly. “He came to me asking if I knew how to embroider. I didn’t, but I got him a little embroidery kit to practice with on tour. It cracked me up when he ended up buying plain white dishtowels and would spend his time backstage embroidering little stars on them. I didn’t know he was planning on giving them to you at the time…do you guys have some sort of inside jokes with stars or something?”

           You stare at Hobi like he’s just grown a second head. “He what?”

           “What?” Hobi blinks. “Did you not know that he stitched them?”

           Of course not. When Yoongi had gifted you the dishtowels, you’d thought it was sweet, if a bit odd. You even remember joking with him about it, saying that he’d paid off the neighborhood grandma to do it for him.

           “No! I never knew that! Why would I…why would he…”

           “So…you don’t have an inside joke about stars?”

           You sigh, throwing a hand over your eyes. “How could I be so blind?” Slumping down in the chair you ask miserably, “I mean, it makes sense, I guess…he’s done so many things-”

           At this, Hobi stops you. “Like what?”

           There is a long, long list of things that Yoongi did for you that he never told the boys.

           “Or there’s that time he passed up on his Laker’s tickets because I had that end-of-year project due, and I was worried that nobody would show up to my presentation.”

           You remember that with a jolt. You had to give a twenty minute presentation on the effects of addiction, something that hardly seemed like a riveting topic. The general public was invited to the lecture hall, but despite your valiant efforts handing out fliers and sending e-vites, you were convinced that it was going to be a flop.

           It was. There were about seventeen people scattered about the hall that typically seated three hundred. Your hands were shaking and you thought you might burst into tears on stage because you felt like an utter failure, but then movement caught your eyes.

           Sneaking in and taking a seat on the very back row, sat Yoongi. His bucket hat was pulled low across his eyes and a couple of body guards tried (and failed) to looked inconspicuous as they took seats near him. When you stuttered, he help up a thumbs up and quietly encouraged you to go on.

           Jin’s words from earlier come back to you. I think he doesn’t know what to do with it, all those feelings. He just cares so much, about everyone. For you.

           By this point, you’re exhausted with all of the things Yoongi has done over the years. How blind you’ve been to his unadulterated kindness. Hobi senses it, seeing your shoulders droop. He falls silent, allowing you to sort out your thoughts before you speak.

           “Does he still want me?”

           Looking up at Hobi, you allow yourself to feel the question at you repeat it. “How could he still want me? After how blind I’ve been to my own feelings?”

           Hobi smiles softly, leaning forward to take your hand in his. He gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Jagi…I don’t think Yoongi completely understood his own feelings most of the time.”

           “But he’s done so much-”

           “That he has. But when you love someone, you don’t do those kinds of things for gain. He didn’t do those things to make you fall in love with him.” Hobi laughs to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. “He did it because you’re the right person. And when you’re with the right person, it’s simple. Does he still want you? Simple.” He shrugs. “Yes.”

           Yoongi is gone, Jungkook tells you when the boys eventually come knocking at Hobi’s studio. They sit in a semi-circle, pondering all that they’ve learned. Hobi had quickly explained the situation to them, and despite your worry, nothing happened.

           Nobody yelled, nobody banished you from their life.

           Instead, Jimin had laughed. Laughed.

           “Pay up, loser,” he’d commanded as he elbowed Taehyung. Taehyung whined and said that he’d Venmo him in a second.

           “Wait, you made a bet?” You shriek. “About who I’d go for?!”

           The boys all laugh nervously, Namjoon slowly edging toward the door. You snap your fingers at him, glaring. “You don’t get to leave, Kim. Were you a part of this?”

           “I…yeah…”

           “But Yoongi’s gone,” Jungkook repeats. “Aren’t you gonna tell him?”

           You sigh. “How am I supposed to tell him? Just march up to him and throw myself at him?”

           Namjoon shrugs. “I mean, that’d work for me.”

           “Yeah,” Jungkook chuckles darkly. “Just go for that.”

           Hobi rolls his eyes, leaning forward in his seat. “Just do whatever you feel comfortable with, jagiya. But do it soon. You’ll psych yourself out if you wait much longer.”

           It feels like you’ve time-traveled back to middle school, gossiping around the lunch table about your crush. Somehow, that’s comforting. While there’s a bit of awkwardness in the air, you can’t help but feel like you’re back.

           “Oh,” Taehyung snaps his fingers, mouth open in a little ‘o’, “but whatever you do, make sure there’s cookies. Or some sort of dessert.”

           “What?”

           “You know, to celebrate if he accepts your confession, or to make you feel better if he rejects you.”

           Gasping, you jump up to your feet. You point an accusing finger at Hobi. “But you said that he’d still want me!”

           “He does! Taehyung, take that back right now.”

           Tae stands up, his grin softening as he steps forward. That’s when you see how much they’ve been hiding behind their playful demeanors. For you. To help you.

           Wrapping you up in a hug, Taehyung squeezes you tight. “It’ll be fine. Don’t you worry.” And then, quieter so no one else can hear, “We’ll be fine.”

           You’ve never considered yourself to be a nervous baker, but here you are. Sliding another cookie sheet into the oven while two batches are cooling on your kitchen table.

           By the time you made it home last night, you could hardly keep your eyes open. While sleep did come to you relatively quickly, you were wide awake the second the sun crested the horizon. Wide awake, and a nervous wreck.

           Is this how the boys felt when they came to take you out? If so, they deserve a medal of bravery. You’re still within the comfort of your own home, but you can hardly breathe properly.

           Perhaps that has something to do with the fact that Yoongi just sent you a text that he’s on his way. Bouncing on your feet, you run your hands under the cold water in an effort to rid yourself of clammy palms. Drying your hands on the infamous dishtowel, you smile softly.

           Everything is going to be ok.

           Yoongi doesn’t get there for a long time. It’s long enough that you’re worried, and you pick up your phone to call him. A second later, you hear another phone ringing just outside your door. Hardly believing it, you rush toward the front door only to pause.

           “Here we go.”

           Swinging the door open, you come face to face with a guilty looking Yoongi. He’s halfway back down the stairs, but freezes in his steps as he hears the door open.

           “Yoongi?” You’re absolutely bewildered. “Where are you going?”

           Letting out a breathy laugh, Yoongi slowly begins trekking back up the stairs. “Oh…um…I thought I left something in the car.”

           “That’s a lie, isn’t it?”

           “What, are we not lying to each other today?”

           Smiling softly, you shake your head and open the door a little wider. “No. Not today, I’m afraid.”

           Something akin to fear flashes in Yoongi’s eyes at your words, but a second later he’s back to normal. “Smells great. Are you baking cookies?”

           “I’ve baked about a thousand, yeah. Can’t stop. It’s a condition.” You ramble as you turn and head into the kitchen, hoping that he’s following. The sound of his footsteps confirms that he is. “Want some?”

           When he doesn’t answer, you turn around to see what’s going on.

           Yoongi stands beside your table, fists clenched in the sleeves of his cardigan. He’s practically staring holes into the sweet treats, brows furrowed as he takes a deep breath. When he exhales, it’s shaky.

           “I’m fine, you know,” he grinds out, not looking at you. “You didn’t need to bake me cookies. I’m not…I’m not mad.”

           “Mad? What?”

           “Isn’t this why you brought me over? To let me down easy?” His voice is quiet, yet every word is like a bullet. “That’s why you were at the studio last night, wasn’t it? You were talking to the others about Jin.”

           Your heart stops.

           Is that why he disappeared last night? He thought that you’d made your decision, and it wasn’t him?

           “Yoongi, that’s not-”

           He’s already stepping back, refusing to look at you. His eyes are trained on the floor as he stumbles back toward the entryway, looking like he’s doing his best not to full out sprint. “I’m fine, jagiya. I know you’re worried sick about us, but don’t worry. I already told you not to worry, don’t you remember? I shouldn’t have said all of those stupid things on the beach…is that why you brought me over? You felt like I needed some sort of special treatment?”

           You take off after him, unable to believe what you’re hearing. “Yoongi, listen to me. This is for you. It’s all for you.”

           But he doesn’t hear you, he’s busy fumbling with his shoes that he slipped off beside the door. His hands are shaking, but he still refuses to look at you. “I’m so sorry for worrying you,” he says earnestly. His black hair is falling in his eyes, but it doesn’t shield his pink cheeks from your eyes. “I…wow, this is humiliating, isn’t it? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come-“

           “I invited you-”

           “-but I didn’t want to worry you even more, so I came over – why can’t I get these shoes on?!” He collapses to his knees, dropping his head into his hands as he finally gives up on his shoes. “Even that was a stupid mistake,” he whispers, never one to raise his voice. “I bought these for our date but then I realized that they would be stupid to wear to the beach.” He laughs at himself, no humor in the sound.

           You take a look at the dark shoes, which appear to be made of leather. They lace up, but it’s obvious that they’re not broken in yet. Crouching down beside Yoongi, who keeps his face hidden in his hands, you struggle to find words.

           “They look nice,” you mumble, voice raw. Have you been screaming? Or perhaps it’s the emotional exhaustion, finally setting in. “Very pretty.”

           “I wanted to wear them for you. Just once.” Taking a deep breath, Yoongi sits back and brings his knees up to his chest. He back presses against the back of your couch.

           And you’re here. Sitting beside him in the entryway to your small apartment. So far away from where you thought you’d be.

           As Yoongi glares at his shoes, you notice just how bloodshot his eyes are. Like he hasn’t slept in days.

           “Isn’t it odd?” He muses, tired eyes dragging over to meet yours. You’re unable to breathe as he stares at you without the barriers he usually puts up for himself. For the first time you can ever remember, Yoongi looks at you and lets you see everything. Perhaps he’s too tired to mask the longing anymore.

           Your voice comes out as nothing more than a whisper. “What’s odd?”

           He inhales sharply before breathing out slowly. “After everything, I’m still trying to impress you.”

           The small confession strikes you like a bolt of lightning, and you screw your eyes shut. Once the feeling passes and you’ve composed yourself, you open your eyes again to find Yoongi’s again on his shoes. He nibbles on his bottom lip as he reaches out and eases his shoe from your hands. Then, he slips it on his foot.

           As he begins to tie the laces, you open your mouth to say all of the things you should have a long time ago.

           “I see you everywhere I go.” Your eyes are trained on his deft fingers as he pauses for a moment before continuing to lace up his shoe. “For a long time, I didn’t know what to do about it. I just brushed it off as a side effect of our friendship. In my mind, it was better to ignore it than to face it, because then what? I could never have you.”

           His hands are trembling again as he finishes his right shoe and reaches for the left.

           “You’ve always been so good. There whenever I needed you, there just in the off-chance I called. On stand-by, like my own personal assistant.” You chuckle, perhaps a little insane by this point. “And I convinced myself that whatever that was between us, it was enough. It was just gonna be me and my seven best friends for the rest of my life. But then…things started to change. You guys challenged me to view you as something more.”

           He’s nearly finished tying his shoe now, your time is nearly out. But he fumbles, unable to quite finish.

           “That night you guys came up with the dating idea, I knew I was walking into a trap. I wasn’t worried about anyone crossing any boundaries, I was worried about me making the biggest mistake of my life. Sitting there I think I was starting to realize I had feelings for you, and I was one slip-up away from hurting everyone else.”  Now he stops breathing. But his fingers are still slowly working at the laces. “I cared for you then, but I loved you when you showed up at my door seven dates later.”

           He’s just managed to finish tying his shoe when you stop speaking. He doesn’t speak, only staring down at those laces with wide eyes as he processes what you just said. You take his silence in stride, still talking. Still confessing.

           “I didn’t know how to tell you that I was torn between the what-if’s and the what-is. That I was drowning in the possibilities everyone was offering me, but that when I was with you I was finally able to see the world for what it is. But you just said, ‘I know’ and I thought that you did. I figured you knew, because you’re you, how could you not know what I was thinking? You always do.”

           Yoongi stops nibbling on his lip long enough to voice a question, his voice hoarse. “The world for what it is…what is it?”

           You take courage in his curiosity, deeming this a good development. “It’s only tolerable because you’re in it.”

           He falls silent again, deep in his thoughts.

           “Yoongi,” you call softly, heart hammering against you ribs. “Could you look at me for a second?”

           He does, eyes wide with confusion.

           Those eyes, the ones you see everywhere you go. Crinkled up in laughter, joking with you over something stupid. Proudly watching you from the back row as you present to a small crowd. Filled with adventure as you sneak your hand into his pocket at the haunted house, inviting you to dive inside.

           It was those eyes that you saw looking back at you that night with Jungkook, out of breath and lost as suddenly it wasn’t Jungkook kissing you, but Yoongi. That forbidden dream become real as you squeezed your eyes shut and allowed yourself to pretend for a moment longer before pulling away.

           It’s now, looking into Yoongi’s dark eyes that hold so much promise, that you find it easier than ever to say what you should have said that night when he showed up to help you with your essay. Looking frazzled but ready to swim the entire ocean if it would help you. Instead, you had just given him a lingering hug before excusing yourself to go to your room and sleep.

           Sleep hadn’t found you that night, because you had been awake and asking your ceiling why a man like Min Yoongi would do anything for you.

           “Yoongi,” you whisper. “I love you.”

           He doesn’t move, but just blinks. Once. Twice. You see the doubt swirling in his eyes, so when you reach out to pull at his shoelace, you repeat it.

           “I love you.”

           One shoe at a time, you untie the laces. You undo the pain you’ve caused him, break down the barriers he put up.

           “I love you.”

           You continue to repeat the words, focusing on his shoes and not daring to look up at him just yet. Not until you get his shoes off, because then you feel like he can’t run away.

           So you undo the knots and repeat those words with a shaking voice. “I love you, Yoongs.” When you go to slip the shoes from his feet, he helps you, kicking them off and reaching forward to place his hand under your chin and make you look at him.

           Yoongi is crying when you look at him, the tears falling silently. A part of you wonders if he even realizes that he’s crying.

           “You…” he swallows, those eyes so wide. “…love me?”

           It’s simple.

           “Yes.”

           Yoongi furrows his brows again, trying to understand everything that’s happening. “But…Jin.”

           There will be time to explain everything. For now, you answer the question Jin asked you yesterday, standing before this very door. “The pact, the note. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change how I feel. He came over yesterday to ‘let go’, he said.”

           Something like recognition flashes across Yoongi’s face at those two words, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he nods slowly, trying to follow what you’re saying. “And you feel…”

           “I feel very in love with you, yes.”

           What happens next is burned into your memory for the rest of your life.

           Yoongi sits up, reaching across to you in a flash, pulling you until you’re falling forward. He lets out a shaky breath, pulling you into his lap just like he did on the beach. And as he holds you, he laughs. He’s still laughing as he plants a soft kiss to your forehead. He’s grinning as he presses his lips to your cheeks.

           Tears are still falling down his cheeks as he brushes his lips against your own. Hesitantly, as though worried you might pull away and tell him it was all a joke.

You return the kiss fervently, speaking in a language only you two can understand. He pulls away, staring down at you as though surprised to find that you’re really here and not just a figment of his imagination.

“I love you,” he whispers. And then he’s kissing you in earnest.

Breathlessly, desperately, and with a touch of insanity that only comes after spending two nights wide awake and heartbroken. As he holds you tight and kisses you harder, you know that he’s healing himself with each touch.

           One kiss, one shattered fragment of his heart sliding back into place.

           Your hands wrap around his neck and wind into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as he gasps and whispers those three words again. “I love you.”

           When the smell of burnt cookies pulls you apart several minutes later, Yoongi wraps his arms around your waist and sticks to you like glue. He rests his chin on your shoulder, planting a few lazy kisses along your jaw that sets your skin aflame. “Mm, I love you,” he mumbles between kisses.

           Placing the burnt cooking atop the stove, you chuckle. “I know.”

           “Agh,” Yoongi groans, burying his head in your shoulder. “I thought you meant something different, ok?”

           “I know.”

           “Yah! I was trying to be understanding of your feelings I thought you had for Jin!”

           Reaching to turn off the oven, you grin. “I’m never letting you live that down.”

           As Yoongi feigns annoyance while shoveling cookies into his mouth, you marvel at all it took to get to this point. Yoongi notices your attention, puffy cheeks turning pink. But he doesn’t shy away, instead he silently offers you a cookie.

           “So…” he begins, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’ve been thinking.”

           “Dangerous.”

           “Well, I know how much you like bad boys.”

           “Mm, true.”

           Yoongi laughs along with you before continuing. His eyes sparkle like the night sky, drawing you in. “Are you free this Saturday?”

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[enviedear]

liability → draco malfoy

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in which y/n slips herself weak love potion daily to get through the wretched sadness she feels she can’t escape. in her mind, she’s a liability. and unbeknownst to her, draco malfoy feels the same.

PAIRING ⌙ draco x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ⌙ 3.2k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

tw for depression ; something i have so please know i understand if you’re going through it. my messages are always open if you need a friend. be good to yourself and if this may trigger you pls don’t read it. all the love, olivia <3

pls enjoy this angst, and also please ignore the science behind love potions in this fic.

after cedric had been killed, life for you wasn’t the same. the two of you were the best of friends. you did absolutely everything together. cedric helped you be the very best you. 

after him, life seemed grey, dull, and monotonous. you didn’t have anyone to talk to.

your friends pulled back from you and said they made a mistake thinking they could take you on, and you understood. some days you could be so happy and carefree and the very next minute you drifted into the dark abyss that was your mind. you were a little much, for everyone. 

over the summer you began reading to take your mind off of cedric. well, not him, just what happened. you forced yourself to read every book in your home. from books about the stars, to poetry, to books on theories, and finally your textbooks.

it was one of the hottest days of summer when you came across the chapter on love potions. it gave you an idea. the chapter clearly stated that the drinker of the love potion would become infatuated with the person who gave it to them. who’s to say you couldn’t become infatuated with yourself.

of course you didn’t want to become a narcissus, so you brewed a very weak version.

it worked. for a whole day you were happy. you ate, laughed, and were so good to yourself. you were in love with the girl you were. you found yourself slow dancing alone, stroking your own cheek, being there for yourself. 

of course, it didn’t last and by night time you were back to feeling all too much. the type of feeling where you’re silent and unmoving, the world a blur but your thoughts in a deathly focus. 

it was that night you decided that you’d take a weak love potion everyday until your bad feelings went away on their own. you were tired of being the girl people pushed away because they didn’t understand. 

so you did exactly that. your entire fifth year consisted of flying under umbridge’s radar. thanks to harry potter and the order, that proved easier than expected. no one suspected you.

now, you’re in sixth year. everyone is convinced you’re happy again and they don’t treat you like some sort of liability. of course, they don’t know that every night you cry and feel exactly like you did in fourth year. but that’s ok, you can handle the nights as long as the days are good. you find it to be a cycle now. in the mornings you take the potion and it’s almost like the best part of yourself fights the whole day to take care of you, but by night, she looses to the worst part of yourself.

“y/n would you like to go to hogsmeade today?” your friend, cece asks.

“i would love to, but i have to study for transfiguration.” you sigh, giving your friend a sorry look.

“ah it’s ok, you’re taking advanced this year. you’re right to study. mara and i will make sure to bring you back some things from honeydukes.”

you smile and thank your friend before making your way to the astronomy tower. cedric was the one to introduce you to studying here, and you never stopped. 

you take a seat on the steps and begin studying multicorfors.

just as you were getting up to practice the spell, a body runs into you, causing the both of you to tumble to the floor.

you look to your side and spot draco malfoy, who, besides being herbology partners one year, you didn’t really talk to.

“are you okay, draco?” you ask, helping the boy off the floor.

he smoothes out his suit jacket, “yes, l/n.”

you scoff a bit and raise your eyebrows at him, “are you sure because it’s unlike you to stumble about. you’re just too good for that.”

draco glowers at you.

“okay i’m sorry. i didn’t want to be here anyway,” you gesture around the room, “the astronomy tower is now yours.”

he doesn’t say anything as you exit the room and you shrug it off. 

‘as if draco malfoy could be pleasant’, you think to yourself, annoyed.

once you approach the hufflepuff common room you feel the effects of your potion begin to wear off. you curse yourself a little for not drinking enough potion to last you until dinner and decide to run by the kitchens to grab something before bed. there’s no way you can sit through dinner like this.

by the time you make it to your dorm room you feel heavy with thoughts. you curl into your bed crying and stare at the stone wall until you fall into a dreamless sleep. like most nights.

the next morning is a saturday and you wake up early, before your dorm mates, and grab the bottle of love potion under your bed, hidden in a locked trunk. you down the small bottle and watch it refill thanks to the spell you placed on it, and put it back, hidden away.

you decide to head to breakfast early and grab a muffin to take with you to the astronomy tower. you need to master multicorfors before your test on tuesday.

a half hour into your practice, you’re doing the spell almost perfectly. though, changing your skirt into pants proves to be your downfall. you just can’t get it. 

“i need the astronomy tower.” a voice says from behind you.

you turn to see draco malfoy, again wearing a fitted suit.

“you can study while i’m here draco.” you say pointedly.

“i don’t want to.” he scowls.

you roll your eyes, “then study elsewhere.”

“no. you can leave.” 

“listen draco, i can argue with you all day, but i’m not moving until i’ve mastered multicorfors. so either you stay here with me or you go somewhere else.” you groan.

he doesn’t reply but takes a seat on the steps, taking out his wand and transfiguration book.

you smile to yourself, happy to win the argument, and go back to trying to change your skirt into a pair of pants. 

“you’re too rigid with your movements, l/n.” draco tells you.

“can you show me then? i can’t figure it out.” you ask.

“no. just flick your wand more. it’s not that hard.” he says.

you give him a deadpan look, “please. this is the last part of the lesson i need to get. if you show me i can leave sooner.”

draco groans but gets up and walks over to you.

“give me your hand.” he instructs. 

you do as you’re told and he grabs your hand, showing you the correct way to move your wand. his hand is warmer compared to yours and you like the way he warms you up. it’s also extremely soft, almost as if he’s never had a single callous. 

“you have soft hands.” you tell him, grinning.

surprisingly draco lets out a small smile, “you’re supposed to be paying attention.”

“i can’t. you have baby soft hands.” you joke looking up at him.

“i just use lotion. you should try it sometime, your hands feel like a house elves’.” he teases.

you let out a deep laugh, “who knew draco malfoy was such a comedian?”

he feigns shock, “i made those hilarious ‘potter sticks’ badges back in fourth year for nothing then?”

you suck in a unnoticed breathe at the mention of fourth year before smiling,“okay i suppose that should have been a hint. but it was mean.” 

draco and you continue to talk and practice transfiguration up until dinner. the time flying while the two of you are together.

“would you like to eat dinner up here? i can grab us some things from the kitchen.” you ask him, packing your bag up.

“i actually have something to do, but maybe some other time. let’s meet here again tomorrow though, i can help you with transfiguration.” he says.

“draco malfoy fraternizing with a muggle-born hufflepuff. tsk tsk.” you joke before agreeing and heading to dinner. 

you don’t miss the eyeroll he gives you for that remark.

“where were you all day, y/n?” mara questions as you sit down beside her.

“astronomy tower. i was practicing transfiguration. you’ll never guess who ended up helping me either.” you beam, grabbing a plate for yourself.

“who helped you? i’m guessing cormac mclaggen, he seems to have a crush on you.” cece says.

your face contorts in disgust, “no, definitely not. that guy is a creep. it was malfoy actually, and he’s surprisingly funny.”

mara and cece give each other a look before mara speaks, “you do know people are saying he’s a deatheater, right?” 

you roll your eyes, “malfoy is not a deatheater. i think a deatheater would oppose to helping a mudblood.”

your friends shrug and dinner continues on with normal conversation.

“cece and i are going to study in the library before bed if you want to join us.” mara says, grabbing her books.

“i’m okay, plus i’m super tired. i’ll see you at the dorm.” you smile, before parting with your friends.

slipping into your bed you begin to feel the come down of your potion. tonight your pain hurts even more than usual. you feel so trapped and can’t seem to catch your breath. you keep thinking back to the last time you had spoken to your best friend.

it was a week before the maze and he was sitting with you by black lake.

“y/n i promise you once i win, i’m taking you and cho to the fanciest restaurant i can find and we’ll all celebrate.” he had grinned, leaning against a tree.

you giggled and shoved him playfully before saying, “if you don’t win i’m still expecting that dinner.”

“i’ll win. i’ve been practicing so much.”

“i know, you barely ever have time to see me now.” you had sighed.

“y/n i’m sorry. i promise that after all of this is over, you and i are going to see each other everyday. i can’t live without you, kid. you’re my best friend.” he soothed, giving you a hug.

you had leaned into him, “forever?”

he laughed, “of course.”

that memory was etched in your brain. you knew it would never leave your mind. 

you laid silently crying in your bed as your dorm mates entered to room, ready for bed. they said goodnight to each other before getting into their own beds, assuming you to be drifted off by now, and after a few minutes, their snores are the only sound in the room. 

the emptiness of your being feels too much and you’re desperate to escape. you need air. you need something to remind you that you’re alive.

you quietly sneak out of your room, out of the common room, and up the stairs to the astronomy tower.

as you quickly enter the doorway of the tower, a body collides into yours, knocking you back a bit. 

when you look up, tears falling out of your eyes, you’re greeted by teary grey ones. draco’s.

he sniffles and steadies himself before asking, “what’s wrong, l/n?”

you can’t seem to find the words. no one has asked you this question in years, and so much is wrong.

all you can do is cry harder.

“you have to breathe l/n. you’re going to upset yourself more, just breathe.” he says, voice breaking.

you try to calm down but nothing is helping. nothing feels real. cedric should still be here. you shouldn’t be this broken. life should be how it was. now it’s just too much.

“i hate it, draco.” you finally cry out.

he wipes the tears from his own eyes, “what do you hate, l/n. talk to me.”

“i hate that i haven’t been the same since fourth year. i hate that my best friend is gone. i hate that i have to worry that everyone around me is going to die, just because of some evil dark wizard. and i hate that i take fucking love potions everyday just to feel okay. i hate it all.” you breathe, finally. 

draco raises his eyebrows, “you’ve been taking love potions?”

you nod, weary of your confession.

“i’m sorry y/n.” he mumbles.

your eyes meet his at the mention of your first name. coming from him it seems so genuine. he’s never called you by your first name before.

“you won’t tell anyone will you?” you ask, eyes searching his.

“no, i won’t,” he pauses. “but you should get back to your dorm, i’ll walk you back. a walk might help you calm down.”

you nod and let the boy lead you through the dark castle, lit only by the moon. draco’s steps are lighter than yours, and it causes you to wonder how he learned how to be so quiet. it’s unlike him.

when the two of you reach the hufflepuff entrance you whisper to him, “thank you for calming me down, draco. it means a lot that you would help me.”

in the shadows you see him smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. you bid the boy goodnight, and walk back to your dorm. of course you’re still sad but the sadness is somewhat diluted, thanks to none other than draco malfoy. 

you continue to meet with draco daily throughout the months of your sixth year. the two of you finding comfort in each other. 

by now, you’re becoming far less dependent on love potions. having someone to confide in proving immensely helpful.

but although you’re getting better, draco only grows worse. you never ask him what’s troubling him. maybe because you’re scared he won’t tell you or maybe because you’re scared to loose the person helping you the most. either way, you still try to help him as much as possible.

today, may the eighth, draco and you have plans to go to hogsmeade to look for a new notebook for you, since your old one is completely used up. you really loved mcgonagall, but the woman sure stressed you out with all the notes she commanded your class to take.

you’ve been waiting patiently for twenty minutes, but he doesn’t seem to be anywhere in sight.

maybe he’s still at breakfast? you think to yourself, before heading into the castle to search for your friend.

you peer around the dining hall, coming up short. so you decide to go to the astronomy tower. if you needed draco you could usually find him there.

when you enter the sixth floor, ready to head further up, you hear shouting. curious, you walk toward the noise, which is coming from the boys’ bathroom.

you hesitate going in but once you hear a defensive spell being cast, you draw your wand and bound into the bathroom.

in front of you stands harry potter. he’s crouched behind a wall, clutching his wand and panting. you furrow your brows, and go to question what he’s doing before you see draco emerge and cast the cruciatus curse at him.

before you can tell them both to stop, harry yells out a curse you’ve never heard of before.

“sectumsempra!”

almost instantly, draco falls to the floor, blood pouring out of him.

you’re shocked, and don’t even feel yourself run to him. you don’t hear harry’s apologies. you don’t hear when professor snape rushes in. you don’t hear a thing other than draco’s pained cries.

it reminds you all too much of the chaos of cedric’s death. everything happening too fast.

when snape finally stops the bleeding he instructs you to get back to your common room and keep quiet. you don’t try to fight him on it, and do as you’re told.

after a few hours of worried overthinking, you leave the hufflepuff common room and head to the hospital wing. when you enter the large room, you notice draco immediately. he’s the only one.

“draco?” you call his name, standing beside his bed.

the boy opens his eyes and stares right at you, causing you to cry.

“i was so scared draco.” you cry, placing your hand on your friends chest, feeling his heartbeat. it’s comforting.

“i have to tell you something, y/n, before it’s too late. you just have to promise you won’t tell a soul.” he tells you, voice weak.

“draco you’ve kept my secret over these months. i would never hurt you by telling anyone.” you say.

your friend gives you a weak smile before sitting up in the bed and pulling up his left sleeve, exposing a black ink that contrasts so much from his pale white skin.

“they’re coming here in june. i don’t know the day yet but when i find out i’ll tell you. you have to stay safe, y/n. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner.” draco advises.

“you’re a deatheater.” you breathe out, eyes locked to the dark mark on his arm.

you can’t believe the scene in front of you. your draco, a villain that you’ve been so deathly afraid of for years.

“i’m so sorry y/n. it wasn’t my choice. but please promise me that you’ll stay safe. i need you here with me, not gone by the hands of a dark wizard.” the boy pleads, grasping your hand.

you look him in the eyes, “i promise draco.”

he doesn’t let go of your hand and brings it back to his heart.

“i care so deeply for you, y/n. you’re so good. thank you for everything.” he says, faltering.

your eyes are teary when you say, “i love you draco.”

with that you slip your hand out of his and walk back to your dorm. your thoughts seem to be invasive that night. you contemplate grabbing the bottle of love potion you haven’t taken in a month, but decide against it.

you feel cheated. everything had been so perfect. all the excitement you had from running through the nights with the boy you love begin to eat you alive.

it’s not fair for it to turn out like this. the two of you so dependent on each other, but on two separate sides of a war. there’s no way this can end well.

you realize you love draco, as more than a friend. that scares you and so you’re back to thinking that you’re better off on your own.

draco still sits with you in the astronomy tower daily, but the two of you don’t speak much. you, scared of falling deeper in love. and him, too focused on his task. 

of course you find yourself loving the boy more and more everyday. the two of you are always embraced when together, and even though it’s unspoken, you know draco loves you too.

it’s the thirtieth day of june, you’re in the astronomy tower alone when draco comes rushing in.

“y/n you have to go, they’re here.” he warns, checking the stairs behind him.

you freeze at his statement. you knew the day would come but you still weren’t prepared.

“y/n! are you listening to me? you have to go.” he shouts.

this is it. this is the final time you’ll see draco before the war officially starts, after this there’s no more innocent days spent together. here you are again, loosing your best friend.

you get up from the floor and walk to draco. you cup his face gently, “take care of yourself. i love you.”

he eases a little and places his hand on yours, “i love you more. i hope you know that.”

and you do. of course you do.

#—myfics ! #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy one shot #draco lucius malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco x y/n #draco x female reader #draco x you #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x slytherin #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hogwarts

[ivybucky]

good - b.b. x fem!reader

Request: Could you do a Bucky x reader the reader has depression and anxiety? Like maybe she’s having a panic attack and Bucky walks in on her and calms her down- anon

a/n: this was kinda hard to write! Sam’s not the kind of guy who gets angry, but I needed a scapegoat for this one. trying to be more in character for tfaws bucky. sorry this is so short!

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author: abby <3

words: 775

cw: yelling, panic attack, comfort

No, she thought to herself as she felt her heartbeat climb. Not here, not now.

Her hands trembled at her sides, as her chest began to rise and fall at an alarming rate. She balled her fingers into fists, knocking repeatedly into the side of her thigh. 

“Sam,” she breathed out, voice shaking. “I know that I risked a lot-”

“A lot doesn’t even begin to cover it, Y/L/N,” his voice bit out. “You jeopardized the safety of not just those hostages, but everyone else on this mission. We’re supposed to be doing this together. But having you change your course of action without any heads up isn’t helping us come any closer to succeeding.”

“I was only trying to do what I thought was right-”

“I think you should take a break for the next one,” he said firmly, decision made. “Running intel only. That’s what you’re good at.”

She couldn’t meet his eyes anymore, her gaze now casted down to her feet. Her voice muttered a soft, “okay,” and turned to leave the room. 

The tears that she had willed back now tracked down her cheeks as her feet moved her quickly down the hall. She didn’t have a room here, not a form of seclusion that she could hide away in. Instead, she had an empty storage room on the bottom of the boat, with crates she didn’t bother looking in. 

Her back to the wall, she slid down to hug her knees, body trembling as thoughts surged through her brain. You’re not good enough, they said. You don’t belong here. They don’t need you.

She tried to calm her breathing, pursing her lips in slow her exhales, but it didn’t work. She choked out a sob and continued to let the panic settle. 

She didn’t hear the door open. She didn’t hear Bucky’s footsteps move quickly towards her, and she didn’t recognize his presence until he called out her name. 

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He kneeled in front of her, hands resting on his thighs, in case she didn’t wanna be touched. 

“I can’t do this Buck,” she whispered, as much as her heavy breathing and tears let her. “Sam said-”

“Sam?” he huffed, leaning forward a little bit more. “Did that punk do something to you? I swear-” 

She laid a hand on his forearm, causing him to freeze up, her crying worsening. “He didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

Bucky sighed, sitting on the ground next to her. “You’ve got to breathe, okay? Look at me, follow my breath.”

She sighed shakily, trying as much as she could. After several minutes, she was almost back to normal. “Thank you, Buck.”

He smiled softly, hesitantly reaching an arm over her back. “Is this okay?” he asked more for his own boundaries than anything else.

“Yes,” she leaned into him, his breath held in his lungs. “This is good.”

He smiled again, at the sentiment of his touch to be something good. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he winced at his own question. 

“I messed up today, Bucky,” she stared down at her hands fiddling in her lap. “I fucked up bad and I just- I don’t know if I should be here.”

“Y/N,” he sighed with pity, tracing patterns lightly on her shoulder. “We all fuck up. All the time actually.”

She chuckled softly before sighing again. “I think Sam was right. Maybe I’m just not good enough for this.” 

His movements stopped. “Whoa what? Sam said that?”

“He said I was gonna stay on intel next time. Because that’s what I’m good at,” she smiled to herself bitterly. 

For a moment there was silence, a stillness in the air. And then Bucky spoke. “I’m gonna kill him.”

He shot up from the ground, back tense with anger. “Bucky, no.”

“No, Y/N,” his face was firm. “He had no right to bench you. We all make mistakes, Sam included. But you, doll, you are good at it all.”

Her face softened, “Bucky-”

“We wouldn’t have gotten out of there if it wasn’t for you. Sam had us pinned in a corner, and that’s on him. We’re a team and to say that you aren’t good at-”

She rushed forward, cutting himself off from the rant he was spewing. Her arms wrapped around his torso and she pressed her face into his neck. He huffed in surprise. 

“Thank you, James,” she spoke into his skin. “For being you.”

He hesitated, before putting his hands on her back. He pressed her body against his, sighed at the embrace. “Of course, Y/N/N, I’ll always be here.”

Tags: @avengers-do-it-better @maisondumepris @hamiltonwrite12 @fab-notfat @mcueveryday @nanners-the-great @mcubuckyandsteve @captainfile @yes-sir-hotchner​ @aletheladyinred​ @antheiagoddessofflowers

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #bucky request #winter soldier request #bucky barnes request #mcu #sebastian stan #tfaws #marvel

[arctickat2400]

Postpartum Insecurities <> Bucky Barnes

“She’s so beautiful,” You smiled down at your daughter in your arms. You laid in the bed in the med bay of the Avengers Compound, wrapped in Bucky’s arms as he sat behind you. He rubbed your arm softly as you both cooed over your newborn.

“Do you have a name yet?” Dr. Cho asked with a smile as she took your vitals. You looked up at Bucky in question. You had been talking about names probably since you found out you were pregnant. Though, you still didn’t know what was right. But, looking at your daughter now for the first time, both you and Bucky knew the perfect name.

“Sophie Rae... Sophie Rae Barnes.” You smiled up at Bucky, him returning the gesture. He kissed your forehead as you continued to adore your daughter.

* * *

“I’ll be right back.” You said to Bucky, gesturing to the front counter of the cafe, before standing from the booth.

“You want me to get you something, doll?” Bucky questioned. He was always so sweet like that, getting you anything you needed or wanted.

“It’s alright, babe. I got it.” Smiling, you kissed his cheek and walked back up to the counter. There was a new barista working the register today. Brooke must’ve had a day off.

“What can I get for you?” The woman, Caroline, offered.

“Can I get one of the chocolate chip brownies and a java chip frappe, please?” You asked with a smile.

“You sure about that?” She started, and you could hear a bit of judgment in her voice. “With that appetite, that extra weight isn’t going anywhere. Never gonna get that gorgeous model body back.” She states, and you could feel the tears build up. Before you got pregnant, you had the perfect body and you were a very well-known model. But, then, you had your daughter and your body never went back to the way it used to be. No matter how grateful you were for your daughter, nothing could change your insecurities.

“Um… well,” You hesitated. “Never mind, then.” And with that, you left back to your table. Bucky’s head snapped up, sensing you were close. It was kinda like a sixth sense for him. Which meant you couldn’t sneak up on him like you could with your other friends.

“Hey, baby. I thought you were gonna get something to eat.” Bucky wondered as you slid back into the booth across from him. You made eye contact with him and you could feel the sadness build up more and more.

“I, uh, changed my mind. But, um… could we actually go home?” You questioned. You saw Bucky’s expression change from adoration to concern.

“Yeah, sure.” He began as he followed your movements out of the booth. You started walking out of the cafe, and you could swear you saw the barista glare at you as you walked by. You sped out of the cafe and were almost 3 buildings down the street already when Bucky caught up to you, took your hand, and stopped you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Bucky asked, more worry laced in his voice. A tear escaped your eye and you tried to turn away, but Bucky pulled you closer to him, his hand on your cheek. He turned your head to look at him and wiped the tears away.

"Y/N, talk to me. What’s going on?” Bucky questioned, his eyes glued to yours.

“That new girl at the counter... she told me that I was...” You sniffled as you said the word ‘fat’ under your breath. You didn’t want to say it, but that is what she was implying. You knew Bucky could hear you, his super serum allowing him to hear miles away probably.

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He just pulled you into his arms as you let a few more tears slip.

“Baby, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Let’s not make a big deal of this.” But, Bucky knew that, once she pulled away and looked up at him with that shocked look on her face, he had said the wrong thing.

“You don’t think this is a big deal?” You said, anger building up. You were speechless. Bucky opened his mouth to say something but you didn’t let him. You didn’t say anything else as you turned around and made your way back to your car. You got into the passenger’s seat, Bucky in the driver’s seat and you traveled back to the compound.

“Doll, I’m sorry. I just...”

“Don’t,” You said louder than intended. “Just don’t.” They didn’t speak for the rest of the drive to the compound.

Everyone knew you were insecure about your body. Ever since your pregnancy, you had to give up your modeling career and your body changed drastically.

You weren’t the skinny, beautiful girl Bucky had first fallen in love with. You didn’t think he’d want you anymore. But, he told you differently. He told you he had made a promise to always love you no matter what when he proposed to you. He promised that he’d always think you were as beautiful as he thought you to be when you first met. And you believed him, deep down.

But, other times, you would go through phases of depression and you would hate yourself. No one really understood, clearly. Everyone thought you were overreacting, as always. You hated your body now, there was extra weight everywhere. And no matter what Bucky told you, how beautiful you always were and always will be, you couldn’t help but hate yourself more.

You hated being mad at Bucky, but the person you loved more than anyone or anything, the one person you’d think would understand more than anyone thought it wasn’t a big deal. And, though he thinks whatever you’re going on about is complete nonsense, Bucky hates the distance between you two.

Later, in the afternoon, Steve decided to bring you and Bucky with him to meet a friend to pick up some stuff, weapons and such. As part of your job, you’re forced to talk to Bucky, as well as all the others. You’re not surprised Steve chose to bring Bucky, his best friend. Though it was quite obvious, Steve didn’t know you weren’t talking to each other, so he brought you too. You sat in the front seat of Steve’s Buggy, Bucky in the back, and Steve driving, of course. You pull up under a bridge behind a black car, belonging to Sharon Carter.

“I’ll be right back...” Steve says, getting out of the car, leaving you and Bucky alone. Everything is silent as you watch Steve converse with Sharon. You watch as she opens her trunk and you see several guns and Steve’s shield on the top of the pile.

Suddenly, “Can you move your seat up?” Bucky breaks the silence.

“No.” You answer without any emotion, just annoyance, keeping your eyes on the two blondes in front of you.

You can feel Bucky’s eyes on you, and you just barely feel the car move seconds later as he shifts over to the middle seat. You watch a smile form on Steve’s face as he leans into Sharon, and they share a passionate kiss. You didn’t know they were a thing. You were quite surprised, to be honest, considering Peggy’s funeral was just two days ago. But you thought it was sweet. Steve’s known Sharon for a while, it seems. You smile at the romance.

“Ya know, that could be us,” Bucky states and your smile falters, remembering your fight from just hours before. You stay silent. “I’m sorry, Y/N...”

But there was something in you that just wasn’t yet forgiving. You focus back on Steve and Sharon. She gets back in her car just as Steve made eye contact with you. You and Bucky smile at him as a light blush lit up Steve’s cheeks.

About 20 minutes later, you three make it back to the compound. You get out of the car and make your way inside. A smile lights up your face as you see your daughter running towards you, a huge smile on her face.

“Mommy!” She exclaims, running into your arms. You’ve only been gone about 2 hours, but she’s always excited when you get home.

“Hey, sweetheart. Did you have fun with Aunt Nat?” You asked her, kneeling down in front of her.

“Yeah! We colored and then she taught me how to load a gun.” Sophie answered. You chuckled nervously, not really knowing how to feel about that, considering she was 6 and wasn’t ready to be around guns.

“Oh, did she?” You met Nat’s eyes from across the room and she just shrugged with a smug smile. You looked back at your daughter.

“Well, I’m gonna go freshen up. Go say hi to Daddy.” You say just as Bucky walked through the door with Steve.

She looked over at her dad and Uncle Steve, a bigger smile growing on her lips.

“Daddy!” She squealed as she ran to him. You stood up and walked away through the halls and to your room.

“Hey, baby girl! How was your morning?” Buck smiles as he holds Sophie in his arms, her perched on his hip.

“It was good. Did you know that you always keep your gun on the safety until you are ready to use it?” Sophie states with a giggly smile.

Bucky chuckles at his daughter. “Yes, I did know that. But, I didn’t think you were ready to know that yet.” He glared at Natasha from the corner of his eye.

“Daddy, can you teach me something?” Sophie asks him as he sets her on her feet and kneels down in front of her.

“Of course, doll.” He says. She was always into reading and spelling, you think she got that from you. She likes to learn with Bucky, the daddy’s girl side of her. You would always find them around the apartment, reading easy-to-read books or him teaching her to spell or write or doing whatever she wanted to do.

After changing into a pair of jean shorts and one of Bucky’s sweatshirts that went past your shorts, just as you were walking out of your bathroom, you ran into Bucky. You looked up at him as he looked down at you with a pleading, sincere look in his eyes. You wanted to forgive him, you just couldn’t yet. You walked past him into your bedroom as he walked into the bathroom and closed the door. You grabbed your book and settled on the couch in your room by the window.

Bucky walked back out, shirtless and in gray sweatpants. You just had to look at your favorite outfit on him. You could never help yourself when he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He did it all the time too, knowing you loved it. He did it whenever there was no one in your apartment except you, him, and Sophie. That was almost all day, every day, always a nice sight to see.

He walked out of the room and you went back to reading, trying to focus. It was hard to focus back on something as simple as reading after seeing Bucky shirtless.

A little while later, you heard a loud squeaky laugh from the kitchen. You close your book, standing from your spot on the couch, you make your way quietly to the kitchen. You stood in the doorway, arms crossed over your chest, watching the sweet sight of your husband and daughter sitting on the kitchen floor in front of the fridge. Sophie sat in Bucky’s lap as they played around with the spelling letter magnets on the fridge. You couldn’t help but smile.

Bucky just finished teaching Sophie how to spell the word ‘perfect’. He told her to sound it out, first asking her what sound a cat makes.

Just then, Bucky looks up at you, and as your eyes meet, your face fell as fast as your smile came when you saw Bucky and Sophie together. You turn around and make your way back to your room.

“Hey, Soph, how about you go and wash up for dinner?” Bucky tells her, helping her up from his lap. “Okay, daddy.” She smiles, giggling as she runs off. He could never hold back a smile whenever she called him daddy. It would never get old for him.

Bucky made his way to his room, longing for his wife that he hasn’t talked to since that morning. He walks in quietly, careful not to scare her like he does more than he would like. He always found it cute how jumpy she was.

He finds his wife sitting on their bed, back facing him. He knew what she was doing. She didn’t have her phone or a book in her hands. She just sat there thinking like he found her doing a lot. Bucky climbs up behind her, pulling her hair back and placing a soft kiss on her neck.

“Bucky…” She starts.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I know how you are and how you feel about yourself and I just didn’t know what I was thinking.” Bucky interrupted her. He moved to sit beside her, taking her hand in his. “I’m sorry about what that woman said. If I had known, I would’ve done something about it.”

“I just thought… I thought you understood.” You told him, your voice quiet as you looked down at your hands, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“Y/N, baby, I do understand. I really do. The only reason I don’t think it’s a big deal is that I always see you the same in my eyes.” Bucky paused as he lifted your chin to look into his eyes. “You will always be and I will always see you as beautiful as you were when I first met you, no matter what. And I will always love you, baby.” He finished as he brushed his thumb against your cheek. He rid away some of the stray tears, though more kept coming. But, instead of the sad tears, they were happy tears.

“Besides, all of this,” he slid his hand up my shirt and set his hand on my belly. “It came from the birth of our baby girl. So, there’s no reason to feel insecure about it, baby. It’s a good thing.” He told you, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your belly.

“I love you so much, Buck.” You said as he came back up. You leaned in, your hand on the back of his neck. Your lips met in a sweet, loving kiss.

“Forever, Y/N. I love you.” He said, your foreheads pressed against each other.

Just then, you heard pots and pans banging against each other from the kitchen.

“I think our daughter is getting hungry.” You giggled, bringing a smile to Bucky’s lips. He couldn’t get enough of your smile or your laugh or your anything.

You stood up, ready to make whatever your daughter wanted.

“Y/N, can I just say one thing?” Bucky asked just before you turned the corner to your bedroom door. You turned towards him with a questionable expression.

“That cute ass of yours is not helping the way I feel right now. Especially since I haven’t touched you much today.” He states as he stood up and walked to you. His hands ran up your - his - sweatshirt and planted themselves on your bare waist. He felt you tense in his grasp. You still felt a little sensitive and insecure when he touched the places that held that extra bit of weight.

“Don’t worry, baby. Don’t feel insecure.” He whispered into your ear. “You’re so beautiful. Every inch, every bit of you, I can’t get enough.” Bucky finished. You looked up at him, a somewhat seductive smile on your lips. He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. You felt his hand travel further down towards your ass and into your back pocket.

You leaned back a bit. “Dinner first, my love. Then, maybe we can do some of that later.” You told your husband. You loved watching him the way he was. You loved that he longed for you. You slid your hand into his and led him out to the kitchen where you find your daughter starting to put ingredients together for dinner. You knew she was going to take after Bucky in the cooking department. You and Bucky watched her, a smile on both your faces. You leaned into Bucky, one hand on his chest along with your head and his arm around your waist. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your head.

Note: My apologies if I've missed changing any of the name "Katie" to "Y/N". I write my stories as myself and then change my name to Y/N once I put it on Tumblr. Please don't discriminate my writing if I did miss something here or on any of my future/ other stories. I don't mean to. Thanks for reading and I hope y'all like my stories!

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #Sebastian stan imagines #fluff #midsize reader

[amphxtrite]

harry potter x fem!reader

warnings: ⚠️tw⚠️ suicide, substance abuse, blood, suicidal thoughts, alcohol, depression, anxiety, breakdowns, kissing, overall pure angst with a fluffy ending.

currently unedited please excuse grammatical mistakes

summary: A summer changes the girl harry potter fell in love with, leaving her with more pain than she’d ever admit.

a/n: there are many things in here that may be triggering, please consider the warnings before reading.

word count: 6k (writing this really helped get my feelings out)

taglist: @oldschoolkiddo

please message me to be added to my taglist

enjoy <3

__________________________________________

Rushing down the Hogwarts halls, bags slung over your shoulder and sun shining through the windows, you scour the crowds of students leaving Hogwarts for summer vacation, trying to pick a familiar brunette with green eyes.

Rounding the corner, you spot three gryffindors chatting by a stone pillar and run towards them, crashing into one of the boy’s backs.

“Guess who?” You giggle, feeling Harry’s chest vibrate as he chuckles.

“Hm, I don’t know, is it Hagrid?” He teases, running his chin as Hermione grins. “Nope.” You laugh, popping the ‘p’

“Is it Dumbledore?” Harry tries again, placing his hand over yours and stroking his thumb over your fingers. “Afraid not lightning.”

“Well then, perhaps is it y/n?” Harry turns, wrapping you in his arms as you laugh and hug him back.

“Are you guys ready for summer?” You ask, glancing around at Hermione and Ron before glancing back at Harry.

They all bore similar expressions, small smiles with a ‘maybe’ face. You roll your eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re off to save the world over summer too.” You sigh, releasing yourself from Harry’s arms and walking to Ron to give him a hug.

“We won’t get in too much trouble.” Ron chuckles, patting you on the back and letting you walk over to Hermione.

“We just never know at this point.” She shrugs, squeezing you tightly.

“Well I’ll meet you guys on the train!” You smile.

The ride back to your platform was as it always was, the trees whipped by and swayed. The sky was lined with puffy white clouds. The snack trolley passed and you bought yourself a chocolate frog and some ‘every flavour’ beans to share with your mom when you got home, a tradition as they were her favourite, and because she needed a little happiness with you off at school and your father gone.

Sitting back and sighing. The golden trio finally arrived at your cabin and told you about their summer plans. Hermione was travelling, Ron was staying home and Harry was staying with the Dursley’s until he could ‘find a reason to escape to the Weasley’s’ as he put it.

The train arrives at your stop and you grab your bags to leave.

“Write to me if you can, all of you, and I’ll see you next year.” You smile, walking back over to Harry and planting a quick kiss to his cheek, ruffling Ron’s hair and kissing Hermione’s forehead.

“Bye y/n!” Ron and Hermione chime.

“Bye thunder!” Harry calls as you turn again and wave. “Bye lightning, bye guys!” You smile, rushing off to the train.

“So you finally told her?” Ron chuckles, patting Harry on the back.

“What are you talking about?” Harry asks furrowing his eyebrows.

“We know you like her mate, and she just kissed you on the cheek!” Ron continues.

“W-Well maybe I do fancy her, but she gave Mione a kiss too!” Harry stammers, his face going as red as his uniform.

“That was platonic Harry, we can tell she likes you, lightning.” Hermione teases using your nickname for him.

“Listen, I don’t want to jump to conclusions and creep y/n out. She’s an amazing friend and I’d like it to stay that way.” Harry smiles, looking off into the distance to see you still walking away.

“Even if she does like you back?” Ron questions.

“Well you don’t know if she does.” Harry sighs, rolling his eyes.

Your eyes scan the station for your mother, swiveling your head back and forth to find her but only seeing other families being reunited with their children.

Pursing your lips you sigh and wait for a moment. Hoping and praying that this year would be different, and your mother would come running to you with open arms. Seconds fade to minutes, and soon the station is almost empty as excited parents rush home to hear about Hogwarts adventures.

You pull your luggage behind you as you walk to the front of the station and hail a muggle cab, leaning your head against the cool window as the pink skies shine above you, the driver makes no move for conversation, so your drive is silent, and when you finally reach your old house, you hand the man driving the rest of your muggle allowance and nod him goodbye.

Your house was looking as quiet and calm as you had left it.

The flowers you had planted last summer had wilted, the porch sat empty and the stairs still creaked as you approached the door. Home.

You smile as you turn your key in the lock and push open the door, setting your bags on the floor as you set out, candy in hand in search of your mother. The kitchen sat empty with only the soft hum of the refrigerator suggesting someone still lived here. The living room was empty, the old leather couch seemed to be collecting dust and the tv looked like an ancient artifact with the cobwebs strung on the sides. As you ascend the stairs to the second floor, you notice the blinds to every window suspiciously closed. Odd, your mother usually enjoyed watching the sunset.

The floorboards beneath you give high pitched creaks as you walk across the hallways, something you had always despised, especially as a child trying to sneak sweets in the early hours.

Pushing open your mothers bedroom, your eyebrows furrow as her bed laid neatly made, with not a thing out of place. The usual mess of pill bottles and plastic bottles had been cleaned, the pile of clothes had disappeared and she was still nowhere to be found. A sense of dread bubbles in the pit of your stomach as you push on, checking her closet and even your own room for your mom, but nothing.

You turn around with a plan to head to town and see if she was visiting the pharmacy for her pills again, or maybe the grocery store, heck, maybe she had stopped at the corner store for cigarettes again. You turn to shrug on a jacket and leave, but as you reach for the front door knob again, your head snaps up and your blood runs cold.

“No, no, no. Please no.” You repeat to yourself, running up the stairs with tears in your eyes and you approach the one room you had yet to check. The one place your head told you she was, but your heart refused to believe. There was no way it could be true. She’d be opening the door right now, the sound of keys clattering on the table in the kitchen would alert you she was there. She’d say, “I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up, work was awful today.” And she’d proceed to pull out her groceries so you could prepare your favourite meal together, after dinner you would sit on the couch and you’d tell her all about your school girl crush on Harry Potter and she’d tease you as she popped a jelly bean into her mouth and give you the best motherly advice you could ask for. You pause at the closed door and pause, waiting for the door to open, waiting for the sound of footsteps, even the sound of breathing, anything.

You’re met with silence, and in the exact two hundred and sixteen seconds you stood outside the bathroom door, tears began to cloud your vision as you finally opened the door, counting another ten seconds before opening your eyes.

The first thing you saw was your mother, eyes closed and face unusually pale as she lay in the bathtub, and for a moment, you almost convinced yourself she had fallen asleep.

That is until your eyes trailed down her body, and where the water turned red. You drop the jellybeans and everything goes blurry.

“No…” You whimper incredulously, not realizing you had fallen to your knees until the pain in your legs registered and your eyes flooded. Her skin was littered with scars, ones she obtained from her job, harmless ones that healed with time. Beside them were what you cried for. Large, angry gashes that covered her wrists and stole the life from her.

Your face contorts into a hateful cry as you scream, pain flooding your entire being as the metallic sting of blood floods your nose and you gag.

Words seem to blur together, a mixture of ‘why’ and ‘come back, please.’ Seemed to be the only ones that came out coherently as you collapse and slam your fists repeatedly against the floor.

“Mommy, why did you do this? Why did you leave me?” You sob softly, hesitantly touching her face, ice cold to the touch, a quick check of her pulse showed she was gone, but you could tell from the colour still draining from her face that this was recent. Another choked sob escapes your lips as you turn away from her and spot something sitting on the bathroom sink. A letter.

You scramble to grab it and tear it open.

Y/n, if you’re reading this, you’ve gotten home safely and seen me by now. Please know this isn’t your fault love, I just couldn’t bear this anymore. You know that ever since your father left I’ve struggled, you were the only reason I still wanted to stay alive baby, but it’s too much. Everyday I wake up and I have no reason to stay. I was fired not too long ago, lost all my friends to my absence, and lost everything.

Please forgive me. I love you so much, angel, and I’m so so proud of you, I’m resting now baby. I’m finally free.

The paper starts to crinkle as your hands tighten to fists, your tears spill like rivers down your face and your breathing grows rapid as your head falls into your hands.

“P-Please don’t go… You’re all I have, I-I can’t lose you.” You sob, pushing her hair back against her forehead in the soothing manner she had always done for you.

“Please, please, please. I can’t lose you mom… I-I still haven’t told you about this boy at school, t-the test I aced in potions even though professor Snape hates me, all the house points I got, mom there's still so much I have to tell you…” You sniffle, pressing a kiss to her head as you sit back on your heels and push the tears from your eyes to no avail.

“I got your-your every flavoured beans mom, I was hoping we could share them as I told you, maybe I would get an earwax one and you would laugh.” You stutter as the tears flood your eyes again. “I miss your laugh so much mom, please, can I hear it one more time.” You beg, refusing to move from your spot on the floor next to your mother, holding her head in your arms as you begged and prayed for her to come back, going as far as to try and perform magic to heal her wounds and bring her back.

But even magic couldn’t bring her back, and she’d want more for you than to be expelled for uselessly trying to save her.

Eventually the metallic scent became more than you could bear, you pushed yourself away, swallowing your sobs and closing the door behind you. You had no clue what you were going to do with her, but that would be a problem you’d face another day. Your breathing began to race, your heart pounded a million miles a second and the overwhelming feeling of being trapped settled around you, squeezing you into a box you could not escape from, pushing from all sides until you were clawing at yourself to escape your imagined prison.

It was too much. You run down the hallway to your mother’s room and collapse in front of her cabinet, trembling as you tug open the bottom drawer and grab a small cylindrical container with her name on it.

You knew this was a terrible idea, these were strong muggle painkillers meant to help a grown adult, not a teen.

But the looming dread was too much to ignore, too much to bear, too much to even think about. Your mother’s lifeless body flashed through your head, painfully embedding itself into every inch of your memory until it burned.

You pour an unknown amount into your hand and throw them into your mouth, swallowing them dry and collapsing onto the floor in a fit of anger at your actions and pain. Pain so blinding it swallowed your rage, filling your entire being with a convulsing sadness, and as the meds began to kick in, an artificial peace.

New sunlight shines through the closed blinds onto your closed eyes and you finally stir, sitting upright holding your head in your hands, clueless for a moment what you were doing on the floor. Scanning the room, the burning memory hits you like a punch to the face and you freeze, resisting the urge to empty whatever sat in your stomach onto the floor.

“What am i going to do?” You murmur to yourself, glancing around helplessly for something, someone to hold on too, but alas, you sit alone, clutching a pill bottle in your hands.

You eventually snapped to your senses, called a muggle ambulance to help you get your mother out of the tub and before you knew it, you were standing in a flowerless field as two workers lowered your mother into the ground. They offered you condolences and convincing frowns, but to them this was just another job. One more person laid to rest, no care to know what tragic story was buried in the heart of the one person standing at the funeral.

They left without a word you stood at the headstone, engraving the image into your mind.

‘m/n l/n, finally at peace.’

You convinced yourself reading those carved words would have your feelings set in stone. She was at peace now, finally free from her suffering. But it wasn’t that simple, how could it be?

The last family you had ever known was gone, ripped from your arms and held so far above you, there was no possible way you could reach her.

You trudged back home with a permanent feeling of dread looming over you, again your heart begged to have the pain lifted, even for a moment, just to feel alright. And there was only one way you could think of.

“This always helped take the edge off her…” You murmur, digging through your mother’s drawer again to find an untouched box of cigarettes sitting at the bottom.

“This will help…” You convince yourself, taking the box and standing again, slowly trudging out the front door and sitting on the front porch.

“Everything’s gonna be okay.” You murmur lifting a cigarette to your lips and lighting it like you’d seen your mother do many times before.

Inhaling deeply, you barely flinch as the smooth taste of smoke coats your throat. You exhale as you look up into the sky and sigh, it was going to be a long summer.

It almost became an immediate response for stress to pull a cigarette from your pocket and stick it in your mouth, you didn’t particularly enjoy it, but in a twisted way, the smell reminded you of your mother, and you clutched onto anything that reminded you of her.

When you didn’t have cigarettes you turned to alcohol, your mother hadn’t been much of a drinker, but gifts of different drinks were common when her friends came over were common, and they sat untouched in a cabinet in the basement.

The taste of many of them were bitter, but if you drank enough the taste simply didn’t matter and the buzz took over.

Letters from your friends slowly piled on your window as owls came and went as you threw back fire whiskey and stared into space talking to yourself and shooing away the owls who stared at you strangely before flapping away.

When you weren’t at home you went into the small town nearby and bought anything advertised to take the pain away, no one seemed to pay you any mind, many seemed to be going through it as well, to caught up in their own realities to give a shit about a girl buying sleep medication and painkillers, no matter how strong.

You dove deeper into your pain, taking something every night to lull away the nightmares and ignore the pain. Drinking and smoking in the day to cover the tears and help you forget for a couple hours.

Some days were better than others, when you could just sit outside and enjoy the fresh summer air, but others your anxiety caged you up and you did anything to escape.

One late August afternoon a snowy white owl lands beside you on your front porch as you twiddle your thumbs and hum softly.

It drops the letter directly onto your lap and waits staring up at you expectantly as if asking you to open the envelope and read it to them.

“Alright, I get the message.” You yawn, sitting up and ripping the paper off the top of the letter and pulling a piece of parchment into your hand.

You clear your throat and begin, “dear y/n..

I hope you’re doing well, you haven’t responded to any of my letters yet and I’ve been very worried, Ron and Hermione have told me you haven’t been answering them either and we’re all hoping you’re safe. School’s starting up again and I’m looking forward to seeing you, take care.

Harry Potter.”

The owl looks at you again, and you wondered if it actually thought you were going to respond.

“Sorry pal, I’m not writing anything back. Here, for your troubles.” You nod, placing three knuts in front of the bird. The snowy owl looked down at the money oddly before ruffling his feathers and flying away, leaving you alone once again.

“Harry.” You sigh, sipping on a glass of water. You had completely forgotten you had promised to write to your friends over the summer, almost forgotten your life completely as you tried to focus on keeping yourself alive.

“What the fuck am I going to do?” You sigh, setting down your cup and resting your head against your knees.

Summer blew by much faster once you realized how close the first day back really was, but there you were standing in the empty street hailing a cab to travel back to your station.

You pull your sweater closer to you as your leg shakes furiously and your breathing grows rapidly blowing through every possible bad scenario that crosses your mind. The disappointed faces of your old friends, laughter, teasing, each thought clouds your thoughts. A cold sweat breaks out and you can almost feel yourself slipping when a voice pulls you out.

“Um, miss? We’re here.” The cab driver says, glancing back at you worried.

“O-Oh, thank you.” You clear your throat, handing him his payment and stepping out of the car and grabbing your suitcase.

Taking a deep breath you wipe the sweat from your forehead and walk to the magical platform, bracing yourself as always before stepping through the brick border.

Loud and bustling, you quietly walk towards the Hogwarts Express, but instead of walking to your usual compartment where you knew the golden trio would be sitting you strode all the way down to the back of the train and sat in an empty seat.

Glancing around, you make sure the coast is clear before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, instantly feeling a rush of relief as you take a deep breath in and out.

You watched as the trees disappeared behind the window and the sky shone above, but it didn’t feel right. You didn’t get the usual rush of excitement and joy, in fact you almost felt worse the closer you got to Hogwarts. You close the blinds hurriedly and sit back in your seat.

“No I-I’m sure I saw her come this way.” A voice calls out not too far from you.

“Harry, We’ve been down this way three times already!”

Harry.

“Fuck.” You whisper, pulling the hood of your sweater over your head and keeping your eyes trained on the floor.

“Mate we gotta get changed into our uniforms, we’ll see her at the feast.” Ron sighs, probably pulling Harry away as their voices fade away and you’re left alone again.

You curse yourself for hiding. Why were you hiding from the people you loved? What were you so afraid of?

The answer lay plain as day, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

You were afraid of them seeing you like this. Broken down, exhausted, and with a cigarette sticking past your lip.

That did remind you, your uniform.

Covering the compartment windows with your jacket, you quickly swap your hoodie for your collared shirt and a tie. Running a brush through your hair you menatlly prepare yourself to re-enter your life, a life that no longer seemed like yours. Stepping off the Hogwarts express, it felt like you were seeing your past life, a flash of familiarity you no longer knew, a warmth you could recognize that was no longer for you.

You recoil softly at the shiver running down your spine, but push forwards, walking along surrounded by the sea of students.

Reaching where the carriages usually were, you look up expecting the usual strangeness of being pulled by an invisible force, but stumble backwards at the sight of a dark, nightmarish horse standing before you.

It’s eyes seemed to narrow, glaring daggers at you that seemed to pierce your very soul. You quickly climb into a carriage with some random  students and stare out the windows the entire ride.

Their quiet chatter is drowned out by your thoughts, coming up with a way to avoid the golden trio at all cost seemed to be a top priority, followed by the need to down some firewhisky to get your mind off everything.

You kept repeating to yourself everything would be okay, just make it up the stairs, around the pillars, dodge anyone that seemed to be walking in your direction and hurry up to your dormitory. Collapsing into the bed that was now called yours you sigh and bunch the blankets into your fists and breathe properly for the first time since you left your house. Your roommates had yet to show and you were grateful for the alone time. Your hands finally stopped shaking, your sweat finally stopped and your breathing evened. You finally work up the strength to unzip your suitcase and pull the small container of firewhiskey you had brought out of your bag. You unscrew it and take a small sip, allowing the burning liquid to slowly take your edge off and calm you down. You sat for a moment nursing the bottle against your lips, contemplating whether or not it would be smart to go down to the great hall for the feast. You were starving and needed food, but you couldn’t face anyone in this state. Glancing at your faint reflection on the window you swallow at the unfamiliarity of the person staring back at you. Where had the happy girl you once were gone? And who was the stranger you were looking at? Your summer had been restless and difficult, of course. But had it really been enough to shake you to the point you didn’t recognize yourself?

What a stupid question. You almost laugh to yourself, tilting your head back again and drinking a little more. Drinking was supposed to take your mind off your situation, not have you overthink even more.

After a while of sitting and glaring out the window you finally pick yourself up, tuck away your firewhiskey and straighten your uniform. You make your way down towards the great hall, walking slowly down the halls you used to run through. Staring in boredom at the carvings and paintings on the wall you used to admire with awe. Keeping your mouth shut when you used to laugh down these corridors.

Finally reaching the great hall the sorting ceremony was still in full swing, playing as a distraction while you slipped to your table.

You sit and nod hello to the students surrounding you, giving them empty excuses on why you were late, and half-heartedly listening to their stories.

Your only thought at the moment was to eat and keep your head down, become invisible if you must.

Harry glances around the great hall anxiously looking for your face. He had barely touched his food, hardly clapped at the new students being sorted into their houses, barely talked to Hermione and Ron as they watched Harry worriedly.

Harry had only one thought on his mind, find you. See if you were alright, hug you in his arms and tell you he missed you, ask you about your summer and ask you to Hogsmeade like he was too afraid to last year. He had so much planned, all he was missing was you.

Just as Ron opens his mouth to tell Harry to quit for a moment and just eat, he catches sight of familiar h/c hair. Longer than he remembered, but no doubtebly yours. Standing in a hurry Harry runs off leaving Ron and Hermione confused, glancing over to see where the brunette had run off to.

Your head snaps up as you hear footsteps approach you and just in time you see Harry running towards you. His green eyes were alight in joy. His tousled brown hair was shorter and he looked older, more mature. Your heart drops as you frantically try and hide your face. He couldn’t see you like this, what on earth would he think?

“Y/n, there you are I’ve been looking for you!”

Bloody hell, his voice had gotten deeper too. Still holding that boyish grin that you loved so much.

“Y/n? A-Are you okay?”

Go away. You pleaded in your head, refusing to look up into the green eyes you’d fallen for.

Harry refuses to give up and attempts to reach out and take your hand.

His skin makes contact with yours and you flinch away, finally giving in and removing your hands from your face.

“What do you want?” You snap unintentionally, cringing inwardly at what you had just done.

“I-I just wanted to say hi-- are you alright?-” Harry asks furrowing his eyebrows, was that firewhiskey he smelled on your breath?

“I’m fine, could you please leave me alone?” Your voice is softly this time, but still with a cold edge.

Harry’s eyes blink in confusion, as he glances around and open and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. This was not the reunion he was expecting, heck this didn’t seem like you at all. Regardless, he nods and slowly walks away, looking back every now and again to see you holding your head in your hands and eventually standing and leaving in a huff, were those tears he saw streaming down your eyes?

“Did you find her mate?” Ron asks as Harry takes a seat.

“Yeah-yeah. Listen, something's wrong.” Harry states, explaining the confrontation he had with you. Slowly the two other gryffindors expressions fade to concern as well.

“And you’re sure it was firewhiskey?” Hermione questions, pursing her lips.

“I’m afraid so, I-I don’t know what to do.” Harry sighs defeated.

“Give her some time, perhaps she just had a bad day?” Ron suggests.

“Sounds more like a horrible summer.” Hermione sighs, worried for her friend.

“I’m gonna go look for her, I don’t want her alone at a time like now.” Harry nods, not waiting for his friend’s reactions before running off to find you.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” You curse yourself, unsure where you were running too. You simply follow your feets as you angrily wipe tears from your eyes and cry in the empty hallways. As you run the image of Harry’s shocked face plays over and over again in your head, taunting you, trying to prove to you what kind of person you had become. Your feet lead you down another corridor and before you know it you’re climbing up a flight of stairs and fighting for breath while digging your fingers into your hands to keep yourself from sobbing to loudly. You had let him down. You had let everyone you love down, you let your mother down, you let yourself down. Maybe if you had spent more time at home your mother would have found a reason to stay, if you just didn’t go to the magic school and stayed with her she’d be alive and there to guide you. You miss her so much everyday. You collapse onto the cool ground of what must have been the astronomy tower you glance down at your hands and realize you’ve been squeezing too tight and hot blood is beginning to flow down your palm. You gag as the sight brings you back to the beginning of the summer. The start of your hell. Instinctively you pull a cigarette from your pocket and bring it to your lips, lighting it and before you know what you’re doing, walking to the edge of the tower.

There wasn’t anything left for you here. Your mother was gone, you had successfully avoided your friends and the person you loved had seen you for who you truly were. You were ready, and you couldn’t think of any place you’d rather go then your favourite place at Hogwarts.

The place you’d spent so many nights gazing at the stars. The place you’d realized you had fallen in love, looking into the green eyes of Harry Potter while watching the planets shine above you and the stars twinkle.

Harry, the person you were so excited to tell your mother about. The boy who made you smile and laugh every day you were with him. You would miss him. Miss his smile, his tousled hair you loved to play with, miss his voice.

As you take one final drag from your cigarette, your feet just over the edge, you look up towards the sky. You see the moon shining, the trees swaying in the distance, nature in all it’s peace, calling to you.

A feeling like your mother’s arms wraps around you, and for a moment you can see her, feel her. “I’m coming mom, we’ll be together soon.”

Taking a step forward you look down at the ground, almost smiling softly before looking back up at the sky, where you’d join your mom and--

“Y/n!” A pair of real arms wrap around you and pull you away from the edge. Squeezing you against their chest and sobbing into your hair.

Why were they crying? Why weren’t you with your mother yet…?

“Y/n what are you doing?”

Harry. You realize, and as he raises his head and you come eye to eye, you see his eyes clouding with hot tears behind his glasses. You lift your hand and wipe them.

“Why are you crying?” You ask, dropping your hand again and realizing you had accidentally smeared blood on his face.

“I-I could have lost you! What were you doing so close to the edge?” Harry asks, pleading for answers as he holds you close against him.

“Isn’t it obvious?” You smile as though he had just asked the silliest thing.

“There’s nothing left here for me. My mother’s gone, she killed herself when I got home for summer. My dad left us when I was just a baby. I’ve managed to get Ron and Hermione to stop worrying and you’ll never like me back.” You sigh, looking down at your hands and reaching into your pocket again.

“What? Y/n, I-I’m so sorry.” Harry murmurs, placing his forehead against yours as you raise a cigarette to your lips.

“S’ alright.”

Harry’s eyes widen and he slaps the cigarette from your lips.

“You’re drinking and smoking?” He shouts.

“I’ve got painkillers and sleep medication too, anything that’ll get my mind off things.” You shrug, struggling in Harry’s arms as you try and escape.

“Y/n, these things are going to kill you!”

“Good! Maybe I want to die Harry! Maybe I can’t take being alone anymore, and maybe I know these things will kill me so I use them. I want to see her again Harry! I want to not be alone, I want to erase everything I saw, I want to be me again.” You cry, lifting your hands to your face and using your bloody hands to wipe your tears away.

“But I can’t! I still go back to smoking, drinking, using pills to take the pain away and I still. Can’t. Forget!” You continue, bawling into Harry’s shoulder as he holds you.

“I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t do this anymore.” You shriek, trying again to escape Harry’s grip, but he refuses to let go.

“Darling look at me.”

You don’t stop.

“Please Y/n, just look at me.” Hary pleads again.

When you don’t stop this time, he finally gives in and leans towards you. Ignoring the blood, tears and taste of smoke, to  press his lips to yours.

You freeze and Harry keeps himself there. Waiting for your breathing to even out and your heartbeat to stop racing.

Your eyes close and you pause as Harry finally pulls away and takes your face into his hands.

“Y/n, you mother wouldn’t have wanted her daughter to go like this. She would’ve wanted you to be happy and live the life she never had. Darling, from the way you’d always talk about her I know she loves you very much, she doesn’t want you to die.” Harry murmurs pressing a kiss to your eyes and nose.

“Ron and Hermione were worried about you y/n, they just respect your privacy and didn’t want to intrude.” He continues drying you tears with his thumb and peppering kisses down your cheeks.

“They love and care for you so much love. They don’t want you to die.”

Harry pauses for a moment and lifts your lips to his, this time deepening the kiss and moving your lips in sync with his.

“And I… I’m in love with you y/n. I wish I’d had the guts to tell you sooner but I was always too nervous.”

“But look at me now Harry. I’m a mess. I-I’m not the same person.” You murmur, trying to avoid his intense gaze.

“Y/n nothing could ever change the fact I love you. You lost your mother, you can’t expect yourself to just be alright.” Harry sighs.

“I still get nightmares about my parents, I see them collapse and have the life drained from them in mere moments.”

“Y/n after everything, you’re my light. You’re what keeps me motivated everyday to keep going. And I’m not going to let my light die if I could have stopped it.”

You pause and choke back a sob as you glance up into Harry’s eyes and once again melt into the soft green.

“I’m here for you darling, always and forever, whenever you need me, whatever you need, we’ll support each other.” Harry smiles.

This time you engage the kiss, grateful as you relish in the pure moment of happiness.

“Thank you Harry.” You smile weakly.

“Now why don’t you tell me about your mom?” Harry suggests, sitting you down and pulling his wand out of his pocket.

As you ramble on about childhood stories, funny jokes and happy memories Harry smiles and listens, healing your hands and holding them in his.

You spend the rest of the evening laying against his shoulder and gazing up at the stars. Harry places kisses against your head, cheeks and nose every now and again, and even though you knew there was still a long road to walk before you could truly say you felt change, you smiled a little and realized.

Nature wasn’t calling you join it, it was reminding you of the beauty you would be missing. The stars weren’t inviting you up, they were shining to show all the wonders you loved.

And your mother wasn’t embracing you from afar to push you forwards, she was edging you back. Back into Harry’s arms.

#harry potter x reader #harry potter angst #harry potter imagine #harry potter #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #angst

[spunky-89]

When it Rains it Pours

A/N: I’m back again, who knows for how long, but what matters is that I made a thing and I get to share it with you all. 

WARNING I made a self fulfilling fic during a dark time so it might be triggering to those with depression and I do talk very briefly about self harm....so yeah

WC: 3k

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Life was wearing you down. It felt like everything was going wrong. You were failing two classes, your car was totaled, your mom was sick, you weren’t sleeping, your parents were arguing all the time now, and that was just scratching the surface of your problems. Not to mention the fact that your mental health was plummeting. The only good thing you felt you had left was your boyfriend, Stiles. He was always so supportive and he was there whenever you needed him. But soon enough, you knew you would lose him too.

It was late in the evening, lacrosse practice had just ended and you were waiting by Stiles’ jeep. It was cold and dark and you were beyond tired. But as soon as you heard him approach you slapped your fake smile on and pretended everything was fine. And apparently, you were a good actress cause he never noticed. He went on and on about practice and coach and the latest supernatural crisis. It actually made you calmer, hearing him ramble. Somethings never change and you were glad for that. Like your tradition of always stopping to grab a bite to eat after Friday practices. You desperately wanted to go, but you weren’t sure how long you could hold this facade of being okay. So with a heavy heart, you asked him to just drop you at home, making the excuse your mom needed something from you. Like the wonderful boyfriend he was, he offered to help and you could just order in. But you declined, promising to call him first thing in the morning. As you opened your front door you could hear your parents arguing again, but you kept your smile up and turned to wave at Stiles. As soon as the door was closed you let out a deep breath, dropping the fake smile and trudging to your room. You threw your bag on your desk chair and headed straight for your bed. You just laid there thinking as you tried to muffle the sounds of your parents arguing with a pillow over your head. You woke up hours later, somewhere around 2 a.m., and realized you fell asleep in your clothes. You quickly changed into something comfier, climbing right back into bed. You decided to start working on your upcoming english essay, but you struggled to come up with any words. Or better yet, you had the ideas in your head, the problem was getting those thoughts on paper. You barely realized you’d been up all night, the only reason you did was you noticed the sunlight beginning to filter into your room. You sighed and put your books and laptop away and tried to grab a few hours more sleep. You didn’t really succeed, falling asleep around 8 and waking back up at 9:30. You sent a quick message to Stiles to let him know you were staying home to study and to call if anything life-threatening was occurring. He asked if you wanted company but you denied. Not thinking you’d be able to put on a fake smile today. So you went to the kitchen to grab some food before you locked yourself in your room, determined not to do anything but study and do homework. You got so absorbed in your work you didn’t notice your phone blowing up with texts and calls. You didn’t notice that lunch came and went without you eating anything. You didn’t notice your severe dehydration, nor your hunger. You were numb to everything. So much so you ended up falling asleep at your desk to the sounds of your parents’ screaming match.

You kept this pattern up for about 3 weeks. You slapped on your fake smile at school and pretended you were fine. If someone asked you just said you were anxious about school and grades. Everyone bought it. 

With each day you were becoming more tired and drained. A part of you told you to tell someone, to get help, but the other, louder, part said no. So you kept it all in. It was starting to show. Your grades were slipping more, you were gaunt (luckily makeup kept anyone from seeing that), and you only wore baggy clothes to hide the obvious weight loss from not eating. It almost hurt that no one noticed your terrible state, but you didn’t blame them. How could they if you acted like everything was fine? What they did notice, was you pulling away from the pack. You didn’t show up to pack meetings, and the ones you did come to you never stayed for chit-chat. And worst of all, you hadn’t been alone with Stiles in weeks. You knew he would figure you out, he always could. But you didn’t want him to. He was already dealing with enough, he didn’t need to be worrying about you too. The pack would try and corner you at school but you learned to be slippery, learned to evade the wolves, other supernatural creatures, and the humans. 

You could tell you were hurting Stiles, and that killed you, but you thought maybe distance would be good. He could focus on other things and not have to deal with you. Yes, you decided, he was better without you. They all were. So you made a plan. You would break up with Stiles by saying you didn’t like him anymore and you were sick of the pack. That way it was kind of breaking up with everyone. Then you would have your mom pull you out of school and you could take online classes instead, limiting your chance of seeing the pack.

It was a Wednesday, after school. It was pouring outside but you knew Coach would still make the team practice. This was your opportunity. You sat in your car in the driveway of your home and called Stiles. You prayed he wouldn’t answer, as that would make things harder. When you heard his voicemail pick up, you took a deep shaky breath.

“Hey Stiles, um look, I know it’s kinda shitty to do this over the phone but uh, I don’t think we should be together anymore. I just don’t feel the same way I did, and I know it was wrong of me to drag this out and make it worse by distancing myself first, but I thought it would help lessen the pain. I’m sorry, I wish you the best.” As soon as you hung up your sobs were echoing through the car, meshing well with the sounds of the downpour. You didn’t do what you’d wanted, which was to sound like you were just uninterested and over the pack. Instead, your voice was shaky from holding back tears. You hoped Stiles wouldn’t notice and it would be enough to cut ties with the whole pack.

It took you about half an hour before you were able to get out of your car and start to head inside. By the time you got to the door, you were soaked. Your hands shook as you tried to get the key into the lock, but between the anxiety and the freezing rain, you had no luck. Then you heard the familiar rumble of Roscoe and you tried twice as hard to open the door, but you couldn’t so you just cursed as tears started to mix with the rain, hindering your vision. You could hear his feet slapping against the pavement as he ran to you. You tried to take a deep breath and focus but it was impossible. 

He shouted your name but you ignored him, almost cheering when you got the door unlocked. You tried to enter and close the door before he got to it but you weren’t quite fast enough. As you were rushing to slam the door he put his hand out and shoved against it, keeping you from closing the door. 

“Stop fighting me and just talk to me!” He exclaimed.

“Just go away!”

“No, I’m not leaving until you tell me what the hell is going on,” he grunted as he shoved hard and managed to slide in before you managed to push back. 

He grabbed your arm to try and turn you to face him but you chose to walk past him out the door, just trying to get away from him, knowing you would just take back everything you said, just to feel his arms around you one last time.

“Where are you-” He started to call after you but ended up giving chase instead. 

So you started to run. You didn’t know where you were running, you just knew you couldn’t stop. Unfortunately, with the torrential downpour, you were having a hard time seeing and ended up tripping over a pothole and falling to the ground. Your body ached and your skin stung at the contact with the street, but you ignored it and tried to push on. Unfortunately, your fall gave Stiles enough time to catch up to you. He grabbed your arms and helped you up, never once letting go of you. 

“Let me go Stiles.”

“No. Not until you explain yourself.” He shouted over the rain.

“Just go home!” You cried out.

He just shook his head and stared at you, standing in the middle of the street, the rain still pouring.

“Why? Why follow me? Why bother?” You asked finally, having to shout to be heard over the rain.

“Because I will follow you anywhere! Even into the middle of the street during a massive storm.” He called back.

“Why?”

“Because I love you!” He yelled, his voice letting out hints of frustration. 

It was your turn to just stare at him, tears mixing with the rain as it flowed down your cheeks. You still felt numb, felt like none of this made sense, that he should be happy to be rid of a burden like yourself. You lost all sense of self and felt your legs give out from underneath you, though you were lucky enough to not hit the ground again as Stiles was there to catch you and swiftly lift you into his arms. 

Slowly he walked the two of you back to your house, but you barely noticed, too stuck in your head. You didn’t even notice how hard you were clinging to him. He carried you into your room and sat down on the end of your bed and just held you as you cried. You occasionally babbled something like an apology, but he would just shush you and continue to rock you gently. 

When the tears slowed slightly and you were able to make complete sentences, you decided to just come clean about everything and if he left you, you would understand.

“Listen Stiles, I-”

“Nope, stop right there. Before we talk about this, we need to get into some warm, dry clothes before one of us ends up sick.” He said with finality. As he said it you finally realized some of the numbness you felt was because you were cold and wet. You nodded as you went to fetch some dry towels and clothes for both you and Stiles. You had stolen enough of his clothes and he had left so much that half his wardrobe seemed to be at your house. The two of you dried off and changed in silence. You were shaking the whole time and once you had finished toweling off your hair, you suddenly were terrified to face him. So you kept your back to him and fiddled with the towel in your hands. The tears had stopped, but when you thought about the boy standing behind you, they started to well up again.

You felt his arms slip around you and take the towel gently from your hands, putting it on the dresser before he tightened his arms around you and just held you. When he laid a kiss on the side of your head the tears started to flow once more. When the first sob bubbled out, he turned you around and just stroked the back of your head in a soothing manner. 

“Why are you still here?” you managed to ask between sobs. He sighed and led you back towards your bed, pulling back the covers and slipping under them before opening his arms and inviting you in. You climbed into his arms like so many times before, but what used to feel like heaven only made your heart clench in fear, terrified you were going to lose the one good thing you had left in your life. 

“So what’s going on with you, what happened?” He asked gently, laying on his back as you curled into his side. 

“Does it matter?” you spoke quietly.

“It does to me.” He said grabbing your one hand and holding it tightly before laying a kiss on it. 

You sigh as you try desperately to find words that describe the awful feelings you were feeling. He waited patiently, playing with your fingers absentmindedly. 

“I guess I-I just give up. I feel so numb now because like I’ve given all I can and it’s never enough, so why bother trying right?” You spoke slowly. You felt him go rigid as he turned your hand over to look at your wrists then pulled you to sit up and took your face in his hands, his eyes darting around your face. 

“Please tell me that doesn’t mean what I think it does.” He spoke with fear in his voice.

“What do you…” you trailed off as you cocked your head a little bit, trying desperately to decipher his question/statement. 

“Please tell me you haven’t been- been hurting yourself.” He all but begged, his voice breaking as he did. 

Oh. Your brain paused for a moment, registering the look on his face as he watched every twitch on yours. The real fear and worry you saw on his face stopped you, you knew he cared but you didn’t think that it was enough to cause this reaction to his query.

You shook your head in response, still at a loss for words.

“Promise me you aren’t lying. Please, just be straight with me.” 

“I’m not lying,” You recoiled at his seeming distrust of your answer, pretty much saying he didn’t believe you. His hands dropped from your face as you tried to move away. But a hand pulling you back kept you from going too far.

“Hey, hey, hey, please don’t do this. I’m just trying to be sure because if you are then I-I-I don’t know what I’d do but I’m just worried and you’ve shut me out for weeks and now this- I just want to know what’s wrong so I can try to fix it.”

“You can’t fix it, Stiles, I’m broken and in pieces, I am not your jeep that you can just duct tape back together.” You spoke, a harshness peaking out, covering all the other emotions. You heard him sigh as he tried to get you to look at him but you refused. 

“Of course I know that. But I’m not going to just sit here and let you- let you suffer and deteriorate. I can’t do that.” He said. 

“Why? Why not? Why won’t you just let me rot away in my room, huh? Why don’t you just leave? Be thankful to be free of me.” You all but yelled.

“Why? Are you serious?” He said softly, “Do you really think that low of yourself that you forgot all that we’ve been through together, the moments we had, the love we shared.” His voice felt like knives as he added, “Or at least the love I thought we shared.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your heart breaking at the implications of his statement. You had gotten off the bed at this point and had backed towards the corner of your room, holding your arms tight across your stomach as you tried to curl in on yourself. They were right, the voices in your head were right. All you did was end up hurting him, now he hates you. Well, it’s not like you’re surprised, you weren’t worthy of his love, but hate, maybe you deserved that.

He groaned as he ran his hands down his face in frustration. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” 

“No, stop doing that! Stop trying to hold onto me! Let me go, I’m not worth this.” You said aggravatedly, tears once again pouring from your eyes. This was it you thought, this was the end. You wanted to sigh of relief but you were too devastated to do so.

“Who decided that huh? Who decided you weren’t worthy? Cause to me I’m the one not worthy of you.” He said and you scoffed and rolled your eyes. “I’m serious, you’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re kind and selfless, and so many other wonderful things. And I’m just a spazzy kid who brings nothing but trouble. Who has almost gotten you killed multiple times.”

You just shook your head feverishly as he advanced towards you. You tried to shrink back but you could only go so far and when he reached you he took your face in his hands and he kissed you. He kissed you like it was the last time he’d ever do so. And of course, you melted into it. He was the love of your life and nothing compared to the love you felt in that moment. His hands moved to wrap tightly around you, holding you impossibly closer. 

“Don’t push me away, let me help you.” He murmured against your lips. Your eyes stayed closed as you rested your forehead against his.

“I don’t know how,” you almost whimpered,

“We’ll figure this out, together.” He promised. You just nodded and let him hold you. And at that moment, you had hope again. 

#stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf one shot #teen wolf fanfiction #angst #but happy ending

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 2-5: 时间针脚 The Patchwork of Time Translation

“What are you standing around in a stupor for? See a ghost?”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

Behind the glass wall were several blurry figures busying around.

MC: This should be Team A's area.

Mya had suddenly called a few minutes ago to give me directions to the place I was supposed to report to.

I ran what I was going to say to everyone, in the form of an introduction, through my head once more before gently clearing my throat and opening the door.

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Hello everyone, I'm—

Thunk!

The sound of metal heavily hitting the floor cut my words short as the handle of the door completely fell off.

MC: !?

Did I break it? No way! I broke the office's door on my first day here!?

I didn't quite know what to do for a while. One of the figures closest to the door turned slightly around at the noise.

He had a head full of spiky hair, like that of a hedgehog. He didn't spare even a glance at the door handle; instead, his gaze fell directly upon my person. He shot up from the seat of his workstation.

??: Yoooooou!!

MC: Sorry! It wasn't on purpose, I swear!

??: You're the newcomer that's supposed to be coming in today, right? Sister Zheng Lin, we've got an extra hand!

He excitedly yelled at the other end of the office.

This isn't quite turning out like how I imagined it to be...

Summoned by his yell, a plump woman speed-walked towards us. Her smile was friendly, but there was a sort of unconcealable exhaustion marring her features.

Zheng Lin: Hello. Welcome to Team A. I'm the leader, Zheng Lin.

MC: Hello. Um… I accidentally broke your door handle just now… Sorry…

??: Aw, that thing's been dead half a month ago. We just didn't have time to call someone down to fix it. Don't mind it, yeah?

??: C'mere. I'll bring you to your workstation. Your stuff looks pretty heavy. I'll take it for you, yeah?

He enthusiastically takes the office appliances I'd brought in from my hands and continues walking straight ahead.

Zheng Lin: That works too. I'll leave you to bring her around to meet the others then, Brother Mao. I'll come over once I'm finished up here.

I nodded, following after "Brother Mao".

Brother Mao: I'm Mao Ge, but you can call me Brother Mao! The best rock singer among all Designers here!

He grinned, pulling out a chair and gesturing for me to sit. He then magicked out a rag from god-knows-where and quickly gave the table a wipedown.

Brother Mao: You were 2nd place in the contest, right? We all watched the broadcast; it was absolutely brilliant.

Brother Mao: Especially when you chose Director Qi of all people. Boy, that was a killer! How did you dare to pick him?

Brother Mao: Forget his face, even his breath alone is an icy sub-zero.

Brother Mao: Ever seen an iron tree bloom? I'd say even that's slightly more common than seeing Director Qi smile.

Brother Mao: I'm not talking about his cold smiles, of course. We see that way too often.

MC: Eh? … I just thought getting him to review my work was a rare chance that I couldn't pass up on.

Brother Mao: You go, girl! Looks like we've finally got a competent person in Team A! Feel free to ask me anything if you face any problems in the future! I've gotcha covered!

He grinned, patting himself on the chest to further emphasize his point. He'd already assembled and laid out all of my office appliances on the table at some point in our conversation.

Brother Mao: Alright, everyone! Put everything down. Let me introduce to you our new buddy, (Y/n)!

All the people around me nodded in greeting as Brother Mao introduced them to me one-by-one.

Brother Mao: The one dressed in a Cheongsam is Li Man'man. She came here a minute earlier than you and braved through 3 interviews just to enter Warson.

Li Man'man: Hi, nice to meet you.

Brother Mao: And that's Chen Che, our team's tailoring genius. He's been here for nearly 4 years and has just been promoted to a Senior Designer.

The guy named Chen Che raised his head from the multitude of fabric surrounding him. He adjusted his glasses and gave me a wary look.

Chen Che: Hello.

It was at this moment in time that a guy sporting a quiff hairdo walked past us. His head was haughtily raised and his expression was one of utter disdain.

Man With Quiff Hairstyle: Hmph.

MC: And he is…?

Brother Mao: Don't mind him. He's an annoyance. He just failed the promotion test and is being the green-eyed monster to everyone right now.

I only nodded, not knowing what to say.

Brother Mao: That one over there's Hao Shuai, the trendsetter of Team A and also the King of Werewolf games.

Hao Shuai: Wanna play Werewolf? I'll host one next time, but not now...

Hao Shuai buried his face with a sullen expression as Brother Mao quietly pulled me aside to a corner.

Brother Mao: He's not been in too jolly of a mood these few days. He didn't manage to get promoted to Senior Designer, so he's been pretty depressed about it.

MC: Sounds like it's very hard to get promoted up a rank...

Brother Mao: Precisely! Although Warson has a rank promotion system in place, the way things are being assessed in them makes it scarily hard! People normally have to do it five or six times before they manage to get themselves promoted.

Brother Mao: And, you might even get demoted a rank if the work you turn in doesn't make the cut!

MC: That strict!?

Brother Mao: I'm a Junior Designer like you. I've already taken the assessment around…

Zheng Lin: 10 times.

Brother Mao: You remember all so well, Sister Zheng Lin.

He gallantly retrieved another chair for Zheng Lin to sit on, seemingly paying no heed to the embarrassing number of tries he'd gone through.

Brother Mao: Don't they say that failure's the mother of success? I just have to get a couple more of those and it'll net me a great success!

I laughed at his joke along with Zheng Lin.

Zheng Lin: Our assessment system is just stricter than others.

Zheng Lin: Even though everyone is free to design whatever they like with their creativity as the limit, becoming an actual Fashion Designer is some serious business.

Zheng Lin: Those capable of joining us here in Warson are all talented individuals. Hence, what's really being tested in those assessments are your passion and perseverance.

Zheng Lin: I've welcomed hundreds upon hundreds of rookies during my 10 years here in Team A, but most of them drop out after failing the assessment 3-4 times.

MC: Eh?

Zheng Lin: Firstly, everyone who first comes here holds high self-esteem, so they're a bit more sensitive to criticism. And it is only natural for people to find it unbearable, especially after having been criticized a lot.

Zheng Lin: Secondly, there's a limit to the type of jobs that can be given to Assistants and Junior Designers, so things often end up being boring and repetitive

Zheng Lin: It's hard to go on like that if you don't have the right sort of determination.

MC: ……

Zheng Lin was about to say more when the door slammed open with a "bang!". Several people stood at the entrance, worry written all over their anxious faces.

Colleague A: Can someone consolidate all of Sliver's Autumn-Winter fabrics into a document?

Colleague A: I still have to go down to the mall and conduct surveys and research so I won't be able to do that in time!

Colleague B: Some trouble cropped up regarding the visas of the foreign models who're slated for a shoot next week, so we need another 18 new ones!

Colleague B: What should I do, Sister Zheng Lin!?

Zheng Lin gave a helpless sigh.

Zheng Lin: I'd originally wanted you to let you get used to things around here, but we have our hands full… Do you mind helping us?

MC: … Sure thing!

Zheng Lin: Then, could you first help us by going to the warehouse and picking up Silver's Autumn-Winter fabrics and consolidating them into a sample book after?

Zheng Lin: You can get Brother Mao to help you check it through once you're done.

I nodded and joined the fray.

Time went by. And finally, I finished my very first task after an hour. Brother Mao told me to take it up to the Team A representative who was in the meeting after checking through it.

❖☆———————————★❖

It was clearly noon soon, yet the doors of the meeting rooms on both sides of the corridor were still tightly shut, I could occasionally hear the sound of loud discussions coming from within.

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Excuse me, I'm here to deliver the fabric samples.

Pushing the door open, I saw a Designer who was in the middle of loudly explaining his idea while Sariel held a pen, looking down at the document in his hand.

All the other Designers were either listening intently or hurriedly sketching out their new ideas, having been struck by a sudden wave of inspiration. It was almost as if the very air itself was crackling with ideas, going head to head with each other, gathering and merging into a brand new storm of ideas.

I’m going to be taking part in meetings with everyone in the future too… I couldn’t help but jump for joy at the exciting notion.

Placing the fabric catalogue book down, I couldn’t stop myself from taking one last glance at the meeting room before I left.

❖☆———————————★❖

Brother Mao: Oh, right. Don't forget to retrieve the catalogue book once the meeting upstairs is done.

MC: Okay.

❖☆———————————★❖

Everyone left after the meeting ended. I picked up the scattered pieces of fabric, stacking them neatly into a pile. It was only then that I noticed a pen lying on the ground.

The pitch-black pen was see-through, slender, and sturdy, with three gold-stamped petals at the very end.

MC: This is...

An image of Sariel wielding this pen with his head bowed in thought appeared in my mind.

MC: Is this pen his? It certainly suits that icy countenance of his...

❖☆———————————★❖

I bent down to pick it up, but the moment my fingers brushed against it… I suddenly felt an inexplicable sharp jolt of pain piercing my head.

My heart clenched violently, almost as if a nightmare that had been buried deep within its depths was about to be awakened. The stifling feeling of sadness and despair washed over me together with the odd feeling of my heart having been impaled by something.

What’s going on?

I pressed against my chest, trying to get through this sudden bout of pain that came out of seemingly nowhere.

Sariel: What's going on here?

There seems to be a faint voice ringing through my ears. The pen was taken away from me the next moment. Gone with it were the odd sensations.

I blearily looked at Sariel who had suddenly popped up from nowhere, still slightly woozy in the head.

Sariel: What are you standing around in a stupor for? See a ghost?

MC: I don't know what happened to me earlier…

Sariel: That's what I'd like to ask you.

☆Light Choice: Explain what you felt earlier

I shook my head, trying to recall that odd sensation you felt earlier.

MC: I… My chest and head just suddenly started hurting.

MC: I know I’m in the meeting room right now, but it kind of felt as if I wasn’t here at the same time…

MC: Like a nightmare, you can never wake up from…

Sariel’s expression changed minuscule bit upon hearing the word “nightmare”.

Sariel: How about now?

MC: I'm fine now, and the uncomfortable feeling's also gone.

Sariel: Has this happened before?

MC: Once…?

★Night Choice: Conceal what you felt earlier

MC: I just felt a little light-headed… I'm okay now.

MC: Oh, right. I picked up your pen.

I pointed towards the pen that he'd already reclaimed, which was now in his hand. Sariel only frowned.

Sariel: You felt light-headed after picking up this pen?

It was only when he mentioned it that I realized that that seemed to be the case. But what would a pen have anything to do with a bout of dizziness?

Sariel coldly grabs my hand, making my heart stop cold in my chest. However, all he did was stare at it in silence for a few seconds before releasing me just as quickly.

MC: What are you looking at? Is there something wrong with my hand?

Sariel: Nothing. It's well and fine.

What's up with Sariel? Grabbing my hand out of nowhere like that and not even telling me the reason why...

So, I ended up giving my hand a thorough check as well. There was nothing off about it, but I couldn't help feeling a little worried.

I'd also experienced some "auditory hallucinations" back then at the rooftop…

MC: Maybe I should go get myself a check-up at the hospital just in case…

Sariel: You look pretty peppy on your feet to me. Doesn't seem like there's anything physically wrong about you.

His gaze smoothly slides up from my face to the top of my head as he spoke.

Sariel: Though, I can't say the same about the other parts of you.

MC: ……!

I was fuming, yet I didn't dare to express it with a vehement glare. Seeing how riled up I was at it, yet unable to do anything about it, a flicker of a smirk made its way up to a corner of his mouth.

This was my second time seeing him smile today… The iron tree has bloomed…

Sariel: Are there flowers growing on my face?

I shook my head.

Sariel: A ghost then?

I shook my head again.

Sariel: Then why are you looking at me as if you've just seen a monster?

MC: You just smiled. It's too rare of a sight.

Sariel: … How stupid.

He put on a straight face as he pocketed his pen and turned to head out.

Suddenly remembering something, I hurriedly pushed the door open and ran after him.

MC: Wait a minute, Director Qi! Are you free right now?

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-3) | Next Part: (Chapter 2-8)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #齐司礼 #Sariel #陆沉 #Evan #查理苏 #Charlie #夏鸣星 #Jesse #For Light and Night

[voiceswithoutlips]

Sugar - Chapter One

— pairing: Jimin x Reader — genre: College AU, Smut, Fluff, Minor Angst — word count: 2.7K — warnings: none yet 

Click for Tag List

— chapter summary:

Its a normal day for Y/N, homework, lectures, club meetings and smack in the middle of it lands a hot boy, can Y/N resist him?

— A/N: This is my first time writing smut so I’d really love some feedback <3

“...what you need is some hardcore de-stressing,” Donna whispered in the middle of the lecture. “The kind where you are on your knees and …” 

I elbowed her in the ribs before she could continue. Sure I was a little stressed, maybe more than a little but I wasn’t going to have some ‘hardcore destressing’. I stayed as far away from any kind of relationships as possible, even casual ones that came with certain ‘benefits’. Why? Because I didn’t want to fall into a pit of despair again. My last relationship blew up like a balloon with too much helium. It took a really long time for me to pull myself out of depression. So no more relationships, no more men or women. I was going to prioritize my sanity and focus on my studies. At least that’s what I told myself.

“Seriously Donna, I don’t need any kind of de-stressing, I’m fine,” I whispered back. Professor Cameron was talking about Paradise Lost today. He had the unique ability to turn every exciting story into a boring ramble. Something I learned on my first day when he taught Shakespeare as if he was reciting his grocery list. I bet even his grocery list was more exciting. 

“Just come with me to the cafe, there's this new barista ...mmm the muscles on that guy. I wouldn’t mind having him with some cream,” she said, licking her lips. 

“Eww Donna, keep your dirty mind to yourself,” I shook my head. Donna was the kind of person who enjoyed life to the fullest. She ate when she was hungry, drank when she was stressed and fucked when she was horny. I always envied her simplicity. I grew up learning control, you plan, you strategize and then you make a move. That’s what my parents taught me. I never did anything spontaneous, caution was my base nature. 

“...Ms. Y/N do you have something to share with the rest of us?” Professor Cameron was staring daggers at me.

“Uh ..no Professor,” I said sheepishly as everyone in class stared at me. The rest of the class was uneventful, Professor Cameron went on and on with a few sarcastic remarks here and there about ‘undisciplined students’. I swear to god the man was a dinosaur, if it were up to him we’d be using slate and chalk to take notes. 

“Thanks for that,” I said as Donna and I collected our bags and left the building. 

“Come on, I’ll buy you a coffee to show you how very sorry I am,” her tone was solemn but her eyes held mischief. 

“Pfft, you only want to go there to ogle at the hot barista,” 

“He is sooo hot. He is a second year dance major, he just transferred here. Man, the way he moves …” Donna was almost drooling. 

“Not my type,” I said dismissively. There was something about muscular guys that put me off. Donna loved guys with big muscles, she loved Jocks. Personally I never saw the appeal, I liked my men on the softer side. 

“Oh honey, he’s totally your type,” Donna scoffed as we entered the cafe. It wasn’t far from the main building so it was always full of students drinking their sixth coffee of the day so they could stay awake in their next lecture. We were no different, after Cameron’s class I desperately needed a ‘pick me up’ or I’d be too sleepy to assist Professor Min in the next lecture.

The first thing I saw as I entered the cafe was a bunch of girls making heart eyes at the new barista. He wasn’t much taller than I was and man was he hot. Donna was right, he was totally my type. He was muscular but not in a jock kind of way, he reminded me of a panther. He was lithe, his every movement was graceful as if choreographed. His mouth was feminine, plump lips that made me wonder what it’d be like to bite into them. His eyes slightly unfocused as if he was daydreaming about something intense. I wondered what it’d be like to put his tiny wait in a corset. 

“Fuck,” the word left my mouth. I knew I was done for. Just looking at him made me hot. 

I made my way to one of the corner tables, leaving Donna to get our coffee. Dumping a bunch of books on the table I started working on my assignments. I was determined not to get anywhere near that barista. I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to resist him. He was totally my type. Destiny was determined to torture me. 

“This is my friend Y/N! She’s our resident assistant,” I heard Donna and I lifted my head. My heart stopped. He was standing there, beside Donna, looking at me like I was the sweetest candy in the world. 

“Y/N this is Park Jimin, he is moving to our dorm today, can you believe it?!!” I could not. Dear universe, stop torturing me.

“Nice to meet you,” he said offering his hand. His voice was just like the rest of him, a mixture of delicate and sexy. 

“Let me know if you need any help,” I said, taking his hand like the good RA that I was. Instead of shaking it, he lifted my hands to lips, sending electricity right down to my core. 

“I’m sure I’ll need a lot of help,” I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until he smirked at me. 

I quickly took back my hand. That man was doing things to me. I hadn’t gotten laid since I broke up with Dan months ago, my body was screaming at me. There was just something about Park Jimin that made you want to ride him till he begged for mercy. The thought made me incredibly horny. 

Donna was practically bouncing in her seat. She had informed me multiple times that Jimin was staring at me from behind the counter. I just couldn’t make myself turn my head to confirm it, I didn’t want to confirm it. That’d be a terrible idea. He was bringing down my walls like a stick of dynamite and I’d only met him an hour ago. I had to stick to my resolve. 

I sipped on coffee as dark as my soul. Donna always made a face whenever we went out. She had a sweet tooth, I hated sugar. Anything sweet was bound to make me nauseous. The only sweet food that I could tolerate was ice cream. Even on my birthday I only ate two bites of the cake before I tapped out, sugar just wasn’t my thing. 

“So, what do you do for fun around here,” Jimin said, slipping in the chair beside me. He had taken off his apron. He was wearing a pink turtleneck that hugged his body and tight black jeans that left nothing to the imagination. I was surprised to see him in boots with two inch heels. Dan would’ve scoffed at him for wearing them. 

I was hot as a furnace and wet. I was practically leaking, I thanked all the higher powers out there for giving me the brains to wear jeans instead of a skirt. I was two hundred percent sure that he could smell my arousal. The only saving grace that I had was that none of it showed on my face. 

“Depends on your definition of fun,” I said as I watched him pour 4 packets of sugar in his coffee, eww.

“Do you like movies? You can join our movie club!” Donna said with puppy eyes.

“Are you in the movie club Y/N?” Jimin asked. I almost didn’t hear him, I was too busy staring at hands as he stirred his coffee. He had the cutest pinkie in the world. 

“Pfft, she’s the club president and the RA and she’s also Professor Min’s teaching assistant. Y/N is like super smart,” Donna bragged. I could see the excitement on Donna’s face. This wasn’t the first time she’d tried to set me up with a guy. I knew all her tactics. It started with bragging and then swiftly escalated to Donna setting up dates. I never went to those dates. I wondered if I would go if it was Jimin.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” I mumbled. I was never good with compliments.

“You must be so busy, doesn’t your boyfriend mind?” Jimin asked with a curious look. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I knew what he was getting at.

“Good to know,” he smiled. He was cute when he smiled. I mentally kicked myself for staring, in my defense he was gorgeous. 

“I should go, I can’t be late for Professor Min’s lecture. He’s really strict,” I apologized as I gathered my stuff. It was true, Professor Min was known for his no-nonsense attitude but that wasn’t the only reason. I desperately needed some release. “It was really nice meeting you Jimin, see you at the dorm I guess,” I gave him a smile and before he could reply practically ran out of the cafe.

I woke up this morning thinking about my thesis, not even in my wildest dreams did I expect a Park Jimin to land right in the middle of it. He was the embodiment of my desires. Just looking at him made me horny, which was very uncharacteristic for me. I was a romantic, I wanted to fall in love and go on silly dates. The first time I had sex with Dan was two months after we started dating. I was the kind of person to take it slow. I’ve never even had a one night stand. 

“This is so uncalled for,” I mumbled to no one in particular. I quickly made my way to the women’s locker, thankfully it was empty. I locked myself in one of the stalls, put one foot on the toilet and unceremoniously stuffed my hand in my pants. I sighed as my fingers touched my nub, finally! I rubbed myself in rough circles, pressing down hard. I was biting my lips to stop the moans that threatened to burst out. 

I imagined what it’d be like to have Jimin’s fingers inside me, what it’d be like to have him lick the slick off of my dripping pussy. I wondered how his dick would feel stuffed in my folds, it definitely belonged there. Would he slowly make love to me or would he fuck me like some animal in heat? 

My pussy was clenching on nothing, I desperately needed something inside me. But the downside of wearing skinny jeans is that there’s not much room to maneuver down there and I didn’t want to take off my pants on the dirty bathroom floor. I had to settle with rubbing my clit as if my life depended on it. 

I imagined Jimin's beautiful mouth wet with my juices as he looked up at me from the floor, my hands in his hair, holding him there, on his knees. I was so close...

“Y/N you there?” I almost jumped out of my skin. It was Donna, how the fuck did she find me?

“Yeah,” I said, my voice was breathy. I reluctantly took my hand out of my pants and adjusted my clothes. 

“Come on, we’re going to be late for Professor Min’s lecture!” I followed her out. My face was flushed with embarrassment. I was annoyed at Donna, I was so close... I screamed internally, this day just kept getting worse. 

After the lectures were over Donna had dragged me around the campus in search of Professor Cameron because she forgot to log her attendance. And then there was the student council meeting that ended with us having a mini party to celebrate the start of the semester. To conclude, I didn’t get a chance to do anything about the wetness in my panties. I was still hot, horny and absolutely frustrated. 

“Come on in Y/N,” our dorm supervisor said as I knocked on his door. “We have a new student who needs a buddy, I hope you won’t mind,” he said as soon as I entered. 

I internally sighed. There he was, Park Jimin, in all his delicious glory, standing in front of the desk. He gave me a smile as our eyes met. I quickly looked away, I felt guilty, just hours ago I had imagined him doing things to me as I played with myself. If he ever found out what I did, he’d think of me as some creep. 

“Of course not, welcome to Drake Hall Jimin!” I tried to sound welcoming but I was still horny and my state was only getting worse the more I looked at him. 

“Excellent, it's settled then! Y/N why don’t you show him the dorm,” yep, sure, why not. It’s not like I wanted to jump him then and there, rip his clothes off and ride him like a friggin pogo stick. 

It was well past midnight and I was all alone in the study room. I had given Jimin the standard dorm tour and then left him at his room, telling him to call me if he needed anything. I was his buddy after all. I groaned internally. It was like a meteor had hit my safe little planet and now it burned my body like never before. 

I slowly slid my hand down to the crotch of my cotton shorts and cupped myself, slightly humping into my hand. The feeling made me gasp but it wasn’t enough. I tugged the fabric to a side, revealing my pussy to the room. Nope, I wasn’t wearing any panties.  “Fuck you Park Jimin,” I gasped as I slid two fingers in easily, I was ready for a dick but my fingers would have to suffice. I slowly fucked myself, moving my hips to meet my fingers, trying my best not to make a sound. 

“Need some help?” a voice whispered in my ear. I squeaked and tried to get up but he pushed me down on the chair. “So you want to fuck me?” I could hear the smirk in Jimin’s voice. 

“Dream on loverboy,” I whispered back. His hand trailed down my arm and he cupped me over my hand. He buried his face in my neck, licking and biting until he heard my moan. He chuckled. 

“Tell me, were you imagining what my dick would feel like in this pussy?” he said as he slipped a finger into me. “What it’d be like to be fucked senseless?” another finger. “To be fucked so hard that it’d be impossible for you to walk the next day,” third finger. His voice was breathy, sending vibrations through my body. He refused to move his fingers.

“Stop teasing,” I said through gritted teeth as I forced myself not to hump on his fingers like a bitch in heat. 

“So eager, so wet for me,” he bit down on my neck as he finally started moving his fingers at a maddeningly slow pace. He licked and bit, leaving a trail of purple bruises. I desperately wanted to touch my breasts but he trapped my hands in his other hand. Not allowing me to touch myself.

“Faster,” I commanded.

“No,” he chuckled. Why was he so frustrating? 

“Please ..” I whined.

“Please what?”

“Please make me cum on your goddamn fingers,” I begged.

“As you wish,” he earnestly started fucking me with his fingers. The room was filled with unholy squelching sounds. I couldn’t move my hands, he was holding them too tight. I couldn’t kiss him because he refused to leave me neck, the only thing I could do was gasp and moan. 

I could feel the pressure building in my abdomen as he fucked my mercilessly. He curled his fingers and I came undone. My orgasm exploded through me, literally, I squirted all over his fingers. He kept going, helping me ride out the pleasure. Finally he withdrew his fingers and patted my crotch as I went limp in the chair, all blissed out.

“Good night princess,” he lightly kissed me on the cheek and left. 

#bts smut #bts fluff #jimin smut #college au #jimin x reader #jimin x you #pink jimin #bts jimin #jimin fluff #bcc #btscreatorscorner #sugar

[lauraashley93]

I don’t love you anymore

Part 2:

This is part 2. Don’t worry, there WILL be a part 3 but I just felt this was getting REALLY long and I wanted to continue it so it wasn’t SO much. So, please enjoy part 2 :)

Reader is trying to move on after her and Angel’s break up. But are either of them really truly happy? Will they find there way back to each other?

Warnings: angst? Swearing? Brief Mentions of suicide.

A year.

It’s been 365 days. You don’t know how long a year is until you spend a year missing something, no, someone.

You thought moving would help. You moved back to your aunts house 2,000 plus miles away. Thinking that maybe it would help you move on. It didn’t. You felt there was no closure. Even though Angel had said everything to you, you felt that there was more to it but instead of trying again you ran. You ran and ran and now here you were still just as miserable as you had been because even though it was hell loving him, it was heaven when he WAS loving you and now you were stuck. Not moving forward and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was okay. Was he regretting it? Was he sad? Or was he off to the next one living like you never existed. You pushed that thought from your mind. You didn’t want to think about it. A knock at your door suddenly interrupted your pity party as you looked up.

“y/n?” Are you awake? You aunts soft voice came from behind the door. You sighed. You know you have been worrying her. From being okay one minute to being a drunken mess the next she always seemed to be waiting to see what roller coaster you’d be on.

“Yes, you can come in aunty.” Your voice didn’t have that happy song anymore. Everyone could tell and no one knew how to fix you. Your aunt came in and sat on your bed.

“Y/n, I want to talk to you. Please, don’t be angry but I think it’s time for you to leave. You have been here a year and whatever you’re trying to run from it’s not helping. You need to go back and face whatever it is and close those doors. You are going to drink yourself into a early grave. I love you darling and I’m always here for you but I can’t watch this anymore. You need..

“Stop.” You cut her off. You never opened up to your aunt about what happened. You wanted to shut and lock the door and never speak of it again. Your aunt respected that but apparently you were becoming too much. You couldn’t blame her, honestly, you knew you were a mess and it was only gonna be so long before she grew tired. “I know, I know I’m a lot. But please, don’t give up on me just yet. Please... I just. I gave the wrong person the right piece of me and I’m broken.. I’m, lost. I thought leaving would fix it and I want to tell you I’m fine and I’m over it but I have this HORRIBLE habit of forgiving people when they aren’t even sorry...and I’m still in love with him and if I go back I’ll look for him, I’ll be the pathetic ex trying to crawl back to him and I just.. I can’t. I don’t even know what happened. He just woke up one day and decided he didn’t love me anymore. He finally seen I wasn’t good enough. ”

You start crying as you realize that after all this time that you still love that idiot that ignoring it and hiding it was a mistake and you should have opened up a long time ago. You finally told your aunt what happened from start to finish and she held you as you cried.

——————————————————————-

Angels POV

Back in Santo Padre things haven’t been going very well for Angel either. He’s been a walking disaster since you left him. When you left the first two months he wasn’t sober. He drank from the time he woke up until he laid down and if there were anymore tears to cry he would have cried too. Bishop had let it slide knowing he was going through it but after it almost got him and Gilly killed he finally put his foot down.

—-Flashback 2 months after—

“I HAVE FUCKING HAD IT” Bishop slammed his hand down on the templo table and the sudden noise made Angel flinch. All the other Mayans staring at him seeing what his reaction would be.

“I get that you’re going through some shit but damnit Angel you almost got you and Gilly killed and I can’t have that shit happening. You fucked up brother. Face it, get the fuck over it and move on. If you can’t get your shit straight you’re out. I can’t be having you risk our lives over some pussy.”

Angel’s face turned red. He was livid that Bishop would even DARE talk about you like that. Yes, Bishop cared about you but he had to get through to Angel and he couldn’t play around his feelings anymore. Angel stood up with a quickness leaning toward his president anger growing faster with every passing moment.

“Don’t you EVER fucking talk about y/n like that. Or I’ll”

“Or you‘ll what Angel? “ Bishop is standing nose to nose with him obviously not intimidated. Angel needed to realize he needed to get his shit straight and Bishop was gonna make him see that one way or the other.

“You ain’t gonna do shit, Angel. Now sit the fuck down. Go get your dick wet, hit it out in the cage do what you gotta do today but then it’s fucking done. I don’t wanna see or hear about you acting this way anymore.”

Angel glared at him a few seconds before nodding and storming out of templo and heading to his bike. He needed to ride. He needed to get away and think. How dare he. How could he just expect you to get over y/n like that? I mean, sure you did fuck up but if you could have just explained it you were sure she would forgive you.. you hoped she would have forgave you.

Back in the club house Bishop stopped Ez to talk to him.

“Have you had any luck at all?”

Ez sighed. He had been trying for two months to find you or find where you went so he could talk to you to tell you to come back but he came up short every time.

“No, I can’t find anything. I don’t know where she would have went. She didn’t talk family much. All I know is her mom is a junkie and her dad died years ago. There’s no brother’s and the only sister died in a car crash when y/n was 16. The mom has a sister but she’s completely off grid and so I can’t find shit on her. “

Bishop sighed “keep trying. We gotta figure something out.”

—-Present Day—-

It’s been a year and Ez hasn’t stopped trying to find you. He has watched Angel mask his hurt long enough to do shit with the club and then melt back into his depression and drinking when at home. He’s worried about his brother and he’s determined. So he does the only thing he can think of, he reaches out to Emily Galindo. Maybe, just maybe she can find what he needs.

“And what do you suppose I tell Miguel? Huh? That my ex boyfriend needs a favor? You already know how he feels about our past Ez. Even us meeting here” she motions to Felipes shop “is dangerous!”

“I know, Em, I know but I don’t know what else to do! Angel needs her to know. I don’t even know if it will fix anything but he NEEDS this. Can’t you tell him it’s a friend of yours that you have lost contact with? Or something dealing with work??”

Emily sighs. She knows she can’t say no to Ez, especially under the circumstances.

“Fine, I’ll try.”

———————————————————————

—two weeks later—

You’re wiping down the last table at the diner you work at and about to close up for the night. Friday nights are so busy but it’s your favorite because it brings in the most tips. You weren’t sure you were gonna like moving out to the middle of no where but, it had its perks. After talking with your aunt you felt a little better. You still missed Angel but you figured you owed yourself a chance at happiness. You were grabbing your things when you heard your phone vibrate. An unknown number calling. You simply ignored it thinking it was a spam called until it rang again immediately after the first call, the same number popping up. You furrowed your brows and decided to answer it.

“Hello?”

——————————

—back at the club house—

Ez couldn’t believe it. Emily had found a way to get information on your aunt and she called her telling your aunt that you were an old friend. Your aunt was excited. She thought this would help get you out of your funk. She gave Emily the number they had under her husbands name. Ez seemed impressed by that. No wonder he couldn’t find anything with your name attached to it.

He called the number while the club was having a party. Angel was drinking and trying to distract himself with one of vickie’s girls so Ez took this time to step out to make the call holding his breath... he was disappointed when it went to voicemail so he tried one more time his heart stopped when you picked up and he hoped and prayed you would give him enough time to explain.

“Y/n. Please don’t hang up.”

———————————————————————

Your heart stopped. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. How? Why? Was everything okay?? You were trying to find your voice when your heard Ez on the line.

“Y/n are you there?”

You blinked rapidly as you swallowed hard.

“I’m here” Your voice came out in a whisper. You cleared your throat and tried again. “How did you get my number? Why are you calling?”

“Y/n I’ve been trying for a year to find you. I’ve been trying since the day you left.”

You scoffed anger starting to fill you. “YOU? YOU have? Why? Angel obviously isn’t the one trying so why do YOU care?”

“Angel did. He was gone for two weeks riding trying to find where you went. Then when he couldn’t figure it out he came back and has been a depressed drinking mess since. He barely functions.” Ez said rushing through his sentence.

Your heart was being drug all sorts of directions. Part of you was happy that he was just as miserable as you, but you were sad. You never want him to hurt. Then, you were confused. Why? Why did he feel that way? He claimed he didn’t love you so why would he be hurting?

“Why? Why does he care? He made his feelings VERY clear about how he felt about me. I have spent a year hurting, Ez. I have went through all this shit myself. My aunt has watched me drink myself away, had to talk me out of ending my life” your voice broke. You hated to admit how weak it made you sound but you wanted them to know what you had been through because of him.

Ez’s heart was breaking. He knew that it had hurt you but he didn’t realize just how much damage had been done, maybe it was wrong for him to open up an old wound but he had to try.

“Look, I know I have no right. I know I have no idea what you’ve been through but I’m trying to tell you that he lied, y/n. As soon as I left your house I told him how stupid he was and he thought hurting you was gonna keep you safe if you weren’t with him. So much shit was happening with the club and in his mind he was doing the right thing for you but as soon as you left I think he realized saying all that, was wrong. he hated himself. He went right back to the house to tell you but you were gone. He loves you. He needs you.”

You were breaking down. You wanted so bad to believe Ez but you just couldn’t do that again. Even if Angel was lying he broke you, he said things to you that has changed your whole entire world. How are you supposed to come back from that?

“Ez, I, I can’t. It’s taking me a long time to be okay. Trying to live without Angel was like drowning but I just wouldn’t fucking die.. and I’ve finally learned how to breathe through it and here you are, pushing me back under and I can’t, I just. I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

“Y/n, I understand but if you..”

Ez stopped and you were waiting for him to continue..

You heard shuffling and then you heard it.

”y/n? Is that you??”

The voice that brought you to tears. Angel. You felt dizzy. Probably cause you weren’t breathing. Your anxiety was building and you did the only thing you could think of... you hung up.

———————————————————————

—-At the clubhouse—

Ez was listening to you talk and he knew you were about to shut him off. When he said your name he heard Angels voice.

“Ez? Whose name did you just say?” He practically ran toward you. Ez tried to hide the phone and Angel took it from him.

“Y/n? Is that you??” He heard the line click.

His heart shattered. He stood there phone in hand shaking.

“Angel?” Ez stepped toward his brother.

“How long have you been talking to her?” His voice was raspy trying to hold back anger and tears.

“Just today. I have been trying to reach her and that was the first time i have spoken to her.”

Angel nodded and sighed as he shoved the phone back at Ez’s chest and started to walk away.

“Angel! Angel come back man.”

But it was no use Angel kept walking ready to drown himself in alcohol. It had been too long and hearing your voice brought back so many memories. Ez sighed in defeat wondering how far this was gonna set Angel back and hoping he hadn’t caused more damage to his brother or you.

@angelreyesgirl @auroraariza @spookys-girl @trulysuccubus @stunning-shitz @rosieposie0624 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @skyofficialxx @strawberrywritings @bucky-iss-bae @miss-nori85 @cind-in-real-life

#mayans x reader #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes x reader

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 17

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Angst, very slight fluff

; Word Count: 6k

; Warnings: Emotional breakdown, depiction of a panic/anxiety attack, in depth discussion/description of depression, brief mentions of suicide, lack of self-worth, self-hatred, self-doubt, dissociation

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: I haven’t proof read because...well I don’t really want to re-read it. So forgive me for any mistakes! It’s early by a day because I’ve missed a few weeks so I want you all to have something on what is a rainy night here in England <3

PLEASE make sure to read the warnings on this one. This chapter is very hard hitting for anyone who has suffered depression/anxiety. I put myself back in the position I was in last year when I had my own breakdown and I know people have said before that I write in a way that makes you feel what the character is feeling. Therefore, please don’t read if you’re going to be affected by the warnings! And please also be kind if you don’t agree with the way I depicted this. This is how my own depression and anxiety affected me, only I didn’t have a Hoseok in my life. The experiences the reader goes through in this are the ones I personally have experienced. It’s still a reader insert, don’t worry. She after all has a lot of things I don’t, and I’m also okay, so don’t worry on that front either! If you feel upset about anything after reading this, please consider reaching out to friends, family, professionals or a helpline that specialises in it!

And remember throughout everything...you’re not alone! You’re not worthless and you are loved. <3

-

Leaning against the railing outside your work building, you let out a deep and heavy sigh as you read through the email you’d just received. It’s a rejection email. The third rejection email you’d received today and the twenty-third you’d received in two weeks.

After an in-depth talk with your parents and support from Chungha, Soyeon and Hoseok, you’d decided to finally try and get that career change you’d always wanted. Though you’d pointed out that you didn’t know what you wanted from life anymore.

You didn’t know what you wanted full stop. 

One of the things that you’d been most afraid of when you’d realised that your relationship with Hoseok was turning into something genuine and real, had been what was going to come after. Not in terms of breaking up, though that did terrify you as well, but how your mental state was going to cope.

You’d tried to explain it to the girls a few times in an effort to get them to understand what went on in your rollercoaster of a mind, and you’d clumsily told Hoseok a few months ago. Or you’d tried at least. 

Talking about your emotions wasn’t easy for you and the fear of being too honest about something so crippling with someone who meant so much to you already had scared you away from telling him too much. Your mind had balked at it, afraid that if he found out just how bad you got sometimes that he might just leave before he got in too deep.

So you’d given him a very bare bones explanation of what happened to you sometimes. He probably didn’t think too much of it at the moment as you’d been pretty cheerful throughout the start of your relationship; the bliss of him overriding any of your deep seated depression and anxieties.

Hoseok was obviously aware that you suffered from anxiety and had been very caring in regards to that, but it was entirely different to be with someone in the grip of a depressive episode. Your form of depression could almost be charted, it was that easy to see what was coming, and you’d been so afraid for the last few weeks.

The lethargy and disinterest that associated itself so strongly with your depression had been creeping back into your life slowly. It had frightened you, but you just didn’t know how to combat it. Doing things that were big or made you extremely happy always seemed to come with a huge cost, and the cost was unfortunately your mental health.

Every single time you felt exhilarating highs in your emotions, the feelings so joyful and euphoric from your excitement and pure happiness, you suffered a plunging crash afterwards that often felt like it sucked the joy out of your life. It was something you’d tried to cope with for years now, and sometimes you could go months upon months without feeling like it was affecting you.

But the happiness of finding Hoseok and all of the early stages of your relationship, from the first kiss to sex and meeting your parents, had finally waned. The last few weeks had the deep sense of unhappiness that plagued your negative moods spreading quickly.

It had started as usual with the slowly losing interest in going out; the energy you’d once had to be social outside of your apartment dying until the idea of anything other than work or grocery shopping was too much effort. Then had come the lack of interest in anything.

You’d always found it hard to see that you were slipping, only recognising it properly when you would realise that you’d been laid on your bed or the couch for hours on end, doing nothing at all. Any attempts to find something to watch on television failed as your brain couldn’t find anything interesting enough to keep it’s attention, games sat unplayed as you couldn’t find the energy to turn them on while even just reading bored you.

In particularly bad spells, such as your final year of college when you’d been so afraid of failing but also afraid of having to go into the real world, you struggled to find the energy to even get out of bed. Hygiene only became a thing because of your severe distaste of being unclean, but other than that your bed often became your home.

You would sleep for hours upon hours, napping the day’s away as you consoled yourself with the knowledge that you didn’t have anything to do and so therefore didn’t need to get up. Even though a small voice in the back of your mind told you that no, you should get up. You should do something.

That small voice was drowned out often though. Vanishing on a fast current of melancholy. It frightened you that you were experiencing that now again, even with the wonderful light and joy that was Hoseok in your life. Waking up long after he’d already gotten up on the weekend and realising that you didn’t want to get up and follow him, that not even the comfort of his arms was enough to soothe the jagged hole inside your soul that seemed to grow deeper and wider with every day that passed.

Applying for the jobs had been an appeasement to those in your life who were worried about you. You knew that Hoseok could tell something was wrong, but he just didn’t seem to know what to do or how to help. Understandable really, as you didn’t tell him what was wrong.

But staring down at your phone screen, the black letters bold against the white background that once more proclaimed you weren’t good enough, you felt something deep inside you break. Something that you hadn’t realised was holding on by the thinnest thread, chafing away with each negative thought that had passed through your mind over the years.

What’s the point?

The insipid question whispers through your mind.

Why am I trying?

A second slithers into place, taking comfort with its neighbour.

Why am I doing this?

A third nestles safely between the two brooding thoughts.

I’ll never be good enough for anything.

Leaning your head forehead, you let it rest on your hand on the railing, eyes closing as your other hand tightens on your phone. The hopelessness that your mind has spun to life explodes to life, multiplying into countless thoughts of desolation and gloom that somehow combine together to make your head feel heavy and your limbs tired.

Slumping down onto the ground, you turn and let your back press against the railings. It was your lunch currently and you were at the back of the parking lot that faced your building, the facade blank with no clue as to what was going on inside. 

Blinking slowly, you realise that your breath is stuttering, almost choking itself. Like your throat is closing around nothing while your heart races a thousand miles a minute. Glancing down, you realise that your hands are shaking violently and you try to swallow, the movement so hard. And then you press a palm to your chest, a small whimper leaving your mouth as you simply try to breath.

But it all feels too much. It’s all just too much.

There’s nothing inside your head but despondency and yet your body feels too much, like it can’t cope. Your mind swings violently between the white fuzz of nothing and the sheer panic of a looming sense of dread, the fear of failure, rejection. The fear that you meant nothing and your life was nothing.

I can’t do this anymore.

It’s a simple thought, only five words long and it dances through your mind like a leaf on the breeze. Effortless and simple. 

For a few seconds you think nothing of it, the part of your mind that wasn’t well agreeing with it and conceding that there was no point anymore. You weren’t doing anything useful in life anyway and you doubted anyone would truly notice if you’d gone. A cog in the machine of life, that’s all you were.

And cogs could be replaced after all.

But then that tiny voice that had been washed away earlier appeared again, resolute and defiant against the tidal waves of desolation that swamped it. The tiny kernel of hope and happiness that you’d once had, that had slowly grown and blossomed into a tree with roots so deep it couldn’t be moved. It was a little dejected and a little threadbare from lack of nourishment, but it was there all the same.

The part of you that didn’t want to give up, the part of you that wanted to fight for your life. The part that had spurred you to confidence to message Hoseok, that had encouraged you to keep going in college. The part of you that told you it didn’t want to give up, didn’t want to give in.

Your lungs are heaving now, body hunched over as you grip your legs so tightly, head pressed to your knees while salty tears drip down your face. A heartbeat that feels like it’s working overtime is so loud you can feel it in your chest, the tension in your arms and torso so strong that your muscles hurt from the ache of holding them for so long.

Eyes hot and stinging as the tears overflow, you press hard on your chest and try to regulate your breathing. Try to calm yourself down, to bring yourself back from the precipice of the pain and panic that you feel. The overwhelming rollercoaster of your emotions is giving you whiplash, the melancholy you had been swept with being beaten savagely by the fear of your inability to breath and the panic of how dark your thoughts had gotten.

You needed to talk to someone, you needed to see someone. You needed someone there, someone to tell you that it was okay. That you weren’t worthless. That you had value, that you were loved. That you would be missed. That life wouldn’t be okay without you, that you were needed and necessary. Someone to push away your thoughts for long enough to just let you think clearly.

You don’t even realise you’ve dialled his number, fingers moving on autopilot as if your body is trying to help when your mind has become so paralysed. It’s not until his voice finally manages to pierce through the incessant self-flagellation that your mind is undertaking that you blink in confusion, brow creasing as you wonder why he’s here.

Glancing up, you wipe away at the tears that keep falling and stare at your phone, squinting to focus. The familiar smiling face of your boyfriend stares back, a photo taken weeks back on a date day to the beach. Your heart clenched tightly and your breath shudders, the wheezing sound as your lungs work hard to try and get oxygen loud as you have the odd mixture of desperation to talk to him along with the dread of annoying him.

One of the things you’ve always hated was talking about these personal issues with people. Even though you knew rationally that people would rather you tell them about what was worrying and upsetting you, the gleefully self-destructive part of your mind told you that you were annoying them with your concerns.

But Hoseok was talking through the small speaker, his voice loud against the quiet scenery around you with only your hyperventilated breathing being the odd noise. And then his words finally made sense, the syllables that had broken through your ennui turning into sounds you understood.

It was the confusion in them that caused you to listen properly at first, the way he said your name repeatedly before the ragged sound of your breathing obviously began to register. Then your name became more frantic, the fear in his voice slicing through your own inner wail of despair.

“Y/N? Hello? Y/N are you there? Hellooo? Y/N? Are you okay? Hey, are you...Y/N are you crying? Y/N? Talk to me, come on. Answer me sweetheart, baby answer me. Y/N what’s wrong? Are you crying? Y/N please answer.” His voice is getting progressively louder, the concern and worry louder and you suddenly feel even more self-loathing at the knowledge you’ve panicked him.

“Hobi.” It’s all you can get out though, the word pushing past the tightness of your throat as it contracts so violently, air struggling to get past. Clutching your chest, you recognise an odd wailing sound that escapes with each breath outwards. Hands shaking, you press the phone to your ear and let out a broken sob, trying to talk to him.

“Baby, baby what’s wrong? Has something happened? Are you okay? Have you had an accident? Is it your parents?” He fires questions at you quickly, trying to find some answer as to why his girlfriend has called him in the middle of a workday only to be sobbing and wailing down the phone at him.

Particularly when you both knew how much you despised talking on the phone.

But just the sound of his voice is soothing to the frayed nerves within you, a balm to the deep and aching pain that lurks inside. It’s not enough to pull you out your breakdown, not yet at least. This isn’t a film and television show and you’re aware enough to realise that real life doesn’t happen like that.

God you felt warm, so warm. So unbelievably warm but the sweat on your skin is cold, like you’re ill. Squeezing your eyes shut, you choke as you inhale too fast and your diaphragm jerks in a way that has you almost hiccuping.

Even though he doesn’t actually know what’s happening, Hoseok still manages to do the right thing. Because he stops his own panicked questions, his voice suddenly stabilises and a calm tone taking over.

“Okay baby...baby, listen to me. Okay, you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. It’s going to be okay sweetheart, I swear. Come on, can you hear me?” A torn sound of acknowledgement leaves you, your muscles aching with tiredness from how hard you’ve held yourself.

“That’s good, that’s really good baby. I want you to listen to me, okay? Listen to what I say and then do it for me. I want you to try and breathe in, take a big breath. Really big, come on, do it with me,” You hear him inhale loudly and you try to follow, the shakiness overtaking. “And now it let out. Nice and slow, come on. Do it again.”

He continues on encouraging you through it, his deep voice that you’ve fallen so deeply for so soothing and reassuring. It almost makes you want to cry just hearing it, but you listen to what he says. Closing your own eyes and simply focusing on inhaling and exhaling, pushing all the negativity away until all that’s left is breathing.

Finally, after what feels like an hour, you realise that your breaths are jerky but almost stable. Deep breathes in and out help your body to relax itself, muscles releasing while the demons of depression and anxiety take a step back in your mind. They’re still there, you can feel them hovering over the edges, but you feel like you can cope again.

Wiping at your face once more, you sniff and almost burst into tears again when you realise how utterly pathetic you feel. How stupid you are to fall apart like that over a job rejection of all things. And those demons inch forward, whispering into the fragile parts of you.

“Y/N, are you with me? Are you okay?” Leaning your head back against the railing, you nod quietly before remembering he’s not actually there. The first time you try to speak, your voice is croaky and what sounds like a bubble pops in your throat.

The second time works though. “I’m here. I’m...Hobi...I just...I can’t.” 

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the words cause you to start crying once more. But this time, there’s none of the panic and fear behind them. These tears are blazingly hot, your skin prickling from the salt of them while your head pounds from the previous crying and emotional ride you’d just gone through.

This time, your tears were because you simply wanted him there. You wanted to just bury yourself in his arms and try to forget what had happened.

“Okay, okay. I don’t know what’s wrong, but do you think you can go back to work? Or do you need to come home?” The very idea of going back into the office, sitting at your desk and doing all the mindless jobs that you loathe and despise with every fibre of your being fills you with a surge of feelings that makes you gasp in pain, head shaking rapidly.

You can’t, not today. You can’t go back to that, you can’t go back to the thoughts that this is going to be your life. That this is all you’ll ever be. All you’ll ever be worth. That you’ll never be good enough for anything.

“No.” It’s whimpered out, so soft and quiet but carrying a level of pain that you can’t even begin to properly explain to him. He understands though, a quiet sigh of his own as he obviously considers what to do.

“Okay...go in and ask them if you can take the rest of the day off. Tell them you’re ill. That you’ve been throwing up or something, whatever it takes. Are you okay to drive? Or do you want me to come get you?” Glancing over at your car, the Hyundai your dad had helped you to buy that was a dream compared to your previous car, you chew on your lip as you wipe at your face.

“I can drive. I can drive, it’s not far.” 

“Good. Go home and rest. I’ll be home when I can. Do you want to talk about whatever just happened when I do?” Looking down at the ground, you consider it before sniffling quietly.

“Yeah. I think I should.” Your voice cracks on the last word, yet more tears filling your eyes as your lip trembles dangerously. The thought of telling him is terrifying, but you feel like you’ve gone too far down this dark road now. And you don’t want to walk down it alone anymore, not when what you’re finding is so terrifying and scary.

“Okay. I’ll see you at home then.”

-

It was surprisingly easy to get your boss to let you go home early, easier than you thought it would have been. But maybe you looked a little worse than someone who had been throwing up, given the puffiness of your eyes and the overall haggard appearance you’d managed to take on. You didn’t look well, which worked in your favour in terms of being able to go home.

But you didn’t look well because you weren’t well. And you knew this.

As soon as you got home, you’d practically torn off your clothes before slipping on a well worn pair of soft grey leggings and a fuzzy sweatshirt, the material so soft on your body. It’s approaching the end of November and you revel in the warmth it offers you, curling on the couch into a tight ball with your head buried into the velvety Pusheen pillow that Hoseok had bought you a few weeks ago.

The soft padding of tiny paws on the wood floor alerts you to an incoming presence and you smile tiredly when Kasumi jumps up onto the couch with you, chirping at you quietly before butting her head against yours. Gently, you stroke at her fur and sigh as she settles, her head buried firmly into your neck and her small body vibrating as she purrs away happily.

“Are you happy my little purrbaby? Yeah?” You whisper to her, running your thumb over her silken ears before pressing your nose against her sleek fur. “My favourite little girl, aren’t you? A purry baby.”

The next few minutes consist of you just muttering nonsense to her as usual, your hand stroking automatically as you revel in the solid warmth of her against you. She remains where she is, paws flexing open and closed as the she pads at your chest and you can’t help the tiny smile that escapes as she does so.

“I love you, yes I do.” Maybe it’s a sign of how bad of a person you are that the only person you feel even remotely comfortable saying that to is your own cat. A cat who can’t answer back. Though maybe that’s the point. She relies on you for survival, therefore her love is a given.

Other’s though?

Her ears twitch suddenly and her eyes widen, that familiar look of alarm taking over her feline features and causing her to jerk upright. Frowning, you coo to her before realising you can hear the door opening.

A quick glance at the clock tells you that it’s not even 2pm and your brow creases in confusion. You go to question whoever it is, only he appears from the hallway into the room and your throat tightens immediately.

Hoseok isn’t wearing a fancy suit this time, instead just a pair of black jeans with a black button-up, his socks a contrast in white. His work had since changed their dress code policy to smart-casual, hence his jeans. But he wasn’t supposed to finish until 5pm.

“Why are you here?” Your words aren’t nearly as solid as you intended them to be, the sounds shaky and he lets out a tiny sigh.

“You really think I was gonna stay at work for the next few hours after my girlfriend, who hates using the phone, calls me and all I can hear is hyperventilating and crying? And then she’s so not okay that she actually goes home? No way. I’m gonna work the time back later but I felt that you shouldn’t be alone right now.” He makes it all sound so simple, like there wasn’t even a question in his mind about what he’d do.

It chips away at something inside you, a chink in the solid wall of protection you’d built over the years that held back all your deepest and darkest fears and concerns from others. And in an instant, that wall shatters in a tsunami of emotion.

Lips trembling violently while your vision blurs from the tears filling it, you simply open your arms to him and whimper out his name in a tone so broken and lost that it almost makes Hoseok cry just hearing it. Not that you know that, nor can you see the way his face crumples for a moment at seeing you break so quickly.

You don’t see because the tears block your vision of him, but you feel it when he sits on the couch next to you and wraps you in his arms. Without a word, you squeeze your arms around him so tightly, as if you were afraid that if you let go then he’d vanish.

And you let yourself break in the comfort of his embrace, in the safety of presence and the reassurance of his stability. A horrible sound of pure agony escapes your throat, dragged from the deepest depths and a part of you is surprised at it. At how much pain it encapsulates.

Once you start though, you can’t stop and you simply cry into Hoseok’s arms, letting yourself go in a way that you never have before. Exposing your vulnerabilities and all the jagged points of pain inside your psyche that you’d kept hidden for so long, afraid that no one would care or would see them as a sign of weakness if you let them out.

Hoseok doesn’t judge you though, he doesn’t complain or sigh in annoyance. Instead, he spends the next ten minutes simply hugging you so tightly to him, his hands stroking your back in long movements that soothe you and reassure you that he’s here, that he cares. Vaguely, you recognise him whispering things to you but you don’t put enough thought into what he’s saying.

The earlier breakdown you’d suffered had been frightening and painful; the fear of not understanding what was happening properly combining with the gaping hole of self-hatred and feelings of inadequacy. This didn’t feel like a breakdown though. It felt cathartic almost, like each sob that escaped you, each tear that wet Hoseok’s shirt was another weight being lifted off your mind and shoulders.

By the time you finally calm down enough until the tears are silent and the only noise you make is the hiccuped breathing of someone who’s cried so hard their throat and eyes hurt, you feel almost relaxed. Maybe crying was a good thing sometimes, but you knew that it was because you’d come to terms with the fact that you had to talk about your issues and most importantly, you had to reach out to others for help.

Now the room is completely quiet, only broken by the occasional sniffle from you. You’d expected him to start asking questions immediately but he doesn’t, instead just holding you in a protective embrace while you calm down.

Oddly, it makes you feel a little better that he doesn’t freak out or pepper you with questions. His reassuring presence helps to calm your frayed nerves and you find yourself playing with one of the buttons on his shirt, bottom lip pouting out as you realise his shirt is plastered to his chest from your tears.

“I’m sorry about your shirt.” You whisper, voice hoarse and low. There’s no response for a second before he lets out a breathy laugh, warm lips pressing to your hairline affectionately.

“That’s fine. It’s just a shirt,” Hoseok pauses, shifting to hug you in a more comfortable position on the couch. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The way he leaves the question open for you lets you know that he’s giving you an out, a way to turn him down. You know he wouldn’t be particularly happy if you didn’t talk about what had caused you to have such a breakdown, but he would acknowledge your decision.

“I just...I got another rejection.” Fingers smooth at the wrinkles in his shirt, the text from the email running through your mind once more and you can practically feel your spirit sinking again. “I don’t know, it just...it got too much. I know it sounds really stupid and I can’t really explain it all or anything but...it was just too much. Everything has been too much lately and yet I just feel so empty and uncaring.”

Hoseok doesn’t interrupt you, letting you spill out your inner thoughts to him, even if they don’t make a lot of sense. 

“I’ve been...I mean...lately I...I’m not...I’m not okay.” Your voice wavers dangerously, lip trembling and you tighten your hand on the fabric of his shirt. “I just feel...I can’t...I can’t, I just can’t. I don’t feel like I can do this anymore, it’s just so hard. So hard to get up and go to work when I hate my fucking job. It’s like my mind is dying every second in there and my soul is shrivelling up too. But I’m not good enough to get out and I’ll never get out and all I can think is...is this it? Is this going to be my life? Is this all I’ll ever do? Is this all I’ll ever be worth? Is this all I’ll do? And the thought of this being all I do for the rest of my life is...I mean...I just...I can’t Hoseok. I can’t, I can’t do it. I don’t even want to wake up if I have to do this forever.”

The words are rushed from you, blurring together as you feel the deep hysteria and panic rising within you once more. Hands clenching his shirt are shaking while your breath is coming a little faster again and your poor, swollen eyes are stinging from the heat of yet more tears. You’d have thought you had none left to cry.

“It’s like everything is weighing me down, all of it. My job, my lack of career, my finances and just me as a person. It’s all building in my head and I just...I can’t. But at the same time I feel nothing inside. I wake up and wonder why I’m bothering to get up because I have nothing to do, I can’t focus on shows or games or books. I’m lethargic and unhappy and the idea of going out just makes me want to cry. I drove home from the store the other day and the entire time I felt like there was a hive of bees in my stomach, all angry and my heart was racing. I didn’t even know what I was anxious about! That’s not normal and it happens all the time. I’ve tried, for you and my parents and friends but it always comes back. I can’t do it anymore, I can’t.” You’re not entirely sure what you can’t do, but you say it so forcefully that Hoseok simply nods.

He doesn’t speak at first, contemplating what to say and trying to remember what his therapist had discussed with him all those years ago when he’d gone. It was hard, because obviously your case wasn’t like his. But he wanted to help, or at least try and guide you in the right direction. Because you were reaching out, and he wanted to be the one to hold you steady while you fought your way out of the darkness.

“How long have you been feeling like this? I’ve noticed you pulling away recently, I didn’t want to push you on it though.” Hoseok admits, his voice soothing as he runs a thumb along your cheek, wiping your tears away.

Almost childishly, you shrug. “I don’t know. It comes and goes. I always...I hate doing things that make me happy or excited because I always crash after. And the longer my happiness goes on, the harder and further I crash after. It’s like my mind can’t cope with just...being...normal.”

Hoseok shakes his head firmly then, pulling back slightly to get you to look at him. His eyes are worried and his expression is concerned, but you can tell he’s determined. You can also tell that you’ve just said something that he disagrees with.

“Don’t call yourself not normal. At the risk of sounding like some lame quote from the early 2010s, there’s no such thing as normal. You’re just...you’re not okay right now. I think we can both tell that. And there’s nothing wrong with not being okay. There’s nothing wrong with admitting you’re having mental health problems and I hope you won’t be angry with me for saying it but...this...today...baby I think you need to see a doctor or something. I can’t tell you what will help because I don’t know, and I don’t want to mess it up. But you have to want to get help.”

Looking down at your hands, you sniff quietly as you contemplate what he’s said. As per usual, he’s said it sweetly and in a way that isn’t offensive. The very idea of admitting that you had mental health issues made you quail inside, wanting to tell him that he was wrong and you were fine. 

But he wasn’t wrong...and you weren’t fine. 

“What if they don’t believe me? Or tell me it’s just in my head? Or that I’m just sad or something? And what if work finds out and they get angry at me? People will tell me I’m just faking it or something, looking for attention.” The stereotypes slip from your lips without you realising it but you’re worried.

Despite the push for being more open around mental health lately, you know that people still don’t view it positively. That admitting depression or anxiety can often come with an eye roll or an exasperated sigh. You knew how it went, you weren’t depressed you were just tired or weren’t willing to put in effort and so forth.

But you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be, not when it felt so real and strong.

“Sweetheart, if they think at your work then fuck them. You already hate that place and you’re looking for something new. Don’t let them get to you, you are more important than anyone there. And if they want to act like shit around something as serious as this, then they don’t deserve you. Your doctor should listen, and if they don’t then make them listen. They’re there for you, not the other way around. It’s in your head purely because it’s your mental health and it can be helped. I won’t lie, it’s probably not gonna get cured. But you’ll find ways to cope. And I’ll be here for you. So will your parents and your friends. We care for you and we want you to be okay.” He rubs at your arms then, his touch warm even through the soft material of your sweater.

“I’ve watched you draw into yourself and it’s worried me for a while now. But if you’re willing to reach out to me at your lowest, which I’m going to assume that breakdown was your lowest, then I think you want help. I can’t make it go away, but I can help support you while you get your feet back under you. Will you consider going to the doctor? Please?”

Pushing your head into his neck harder, you sniff hard and pushing the sleeves of your sweater past your hands. Your heart races at the thought of discussing your personal issues with someone you don’t know, but you know Hoseok is right. You need help, you need to reach out.

Swallowing hard, you realise that you need to do what he’s suggesting. You don’t want to get back to that point where you realised you didn’t care if you lived or died anymore. Because you wanted your life to get better. You just didn’t have the tools to pull yourself out of the swamp.

“Okay. I’ll go.” His body relaxes imperceptibly at your agreement and you feel bad, realising how worried he must have been for you. But that worry vanishes when he tilts your head up to his, a sweet smile on his face before he kisses you gently.

“Good. You won’t regret it, I swear. And thank you. For trusting me enough to call me when you were afraid and for telling me now. I want to try and help you anyway I can. I know what it’s like to feel very lost and afraid. I just got angry at the world though. So...please talk to me when you’re not feeling okay, even if you think I’m going to be annoyed or can’t be bothered. Because I’d rather you talk and vent to me than do something else.” And suddenly, you realise he’s got tears in his own eyes.

Reluctant tears you can tell, the way he gives a small smile that’s forced, his dimples showing but no real happiness behind it. Swallowing, your own smile wobbles too as you realise that he must have been so worried.

“I will. I swear. I swear.” His lips press to your forehead, resting there long after he’s finished his kiss and you simply embrace it, absorbing his deep feelings to you that you can tell he has even though he doesn’t say a word. Unsurprising really, because you feel all the positive and warm feelings you have towards him blossoming through the hollowness in your chest.

He’s not going to fix you and you both know that. But you’re surprised to realise that you don’t want him to either. That this is something you have to start yourself. For your own peace of mind but also so that you don’t become reliant on him while pressuring Hoseok with something as precarious as your mental health.

You’ve reached out for help finally, and now you just need to accept the help you’re given in turn.

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