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gatitties · 1 year

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Chaotic

─ Karasuno (sligh Aoba Josai) x fem!reader

─ Summary: You have a club job to do and you choose your favorite team to do it

─ Warnings: oikawa

"We are all, who are we waiting for?"

Daichi was in charge of counting that no one was missing, however Kiyoko told him that someone was missing, it took him a second to understand who the remaining person was until he saw your figure running closer, you smiled innocently shouting.

"HEEEY, how long Daichi?! Good morning Kiyoko beautiful!"

The girl nodded at your greeting getting on the bus, laughing at your silly compliments to her while the Karasuno captain rubbed his temples, why? Why of all the people traveling with him today was it you?

"Do you have at least one good reason, or do I have to kick you out like when you interrupt our practices?"

"Aww, your words offend me Dadchi, I have a justification to be here!"

You cooed, hopping onto the bus, ignoring the vein that grew on your friend's forehead. You had business with your club, the photography club made you do photo sessions on the subject you chose from time to time and what better session than a practice game with your two best friends.

"Noya, Tanaka! Guess what!?"

The others were startled to hear you scream and settle into a seat near the chaotic second-year duo, you were also a second year and you found yourself attached to this pair of idiots because well… you also shared half a neuron with them, as if you were the missing part to make things more chaotic, of course, you were also in Kiyoko's fan group, but you were much smooth, you know, privileges that those two couldn't have, wink~ wink~.

The whole Karasuno team knew you, somehow they always ended up calling you to the principal's room through the megaphones for having broken something, whether accidentally or not, it was funny that the first years knew your name before your person, the first time you came into the gym with the Rugby kit to run over Noya, everyone yelled your name for you not to do it and the four first years stood there like, oh, so she's the famous girl they keep calling for megaphone.

If Ennoshita was the one who usually kept Nishinoya and Tanaka at bay when Daichi couldn't, it was Narita and Kinosita's job to take care of you when you entered the gym, because one, if you were there it's because you had a lot of free time and two, you were going to do the biggest stupid thing your brain could think of. Yes, it's not that you have very good ideas and many times you worry Sugawara about your physical integrity, he has seen you more times than he would like to admit with some part of your body in a cast, it didn't help that Noya and Tanaka helped by sharing collective idiocy together to you.

Tsukishima hated you so much my god, most of the time you didn't understand his hints or salty comments towards you, but what irritated him the most without a doubt was that you connected so well with Hinata on some occasions that you both made fun of him or spent him some jokes. Yamaguchi was always there to smooth things over, and since you loved this little cinnamon roll, he was the only one you couldn't play tricks on.

Kageyama didn't understand how you had such good grades, as far as possible, compared to the stupid things you said, he secretly admired you and considered that some of your ─absurd─ thoughts made some sense if you stopped to reflect on them.

"Yo yisus, I found out that you tried to offer drugs to a girl the other day, I didn't know you were that kind of person."

And poor Asahi… you loved making fun of him for all the absurd rumors about him, seeing him nervously denying having done such things was too funny for you, but poor person spreading those rumors, oh boy, the last time you heard a guy talking shit about Asahi you bit his arm and kicked him in the balls.

The trip to Aoba's institute was not calm as expected, Noya, Tanaka and you just laughed so loud and so much to the point of crying with laughter for God knows what nonsense, at least Daichi was grateful that you were just noisy and don't even think of sticking your head out of the roof window of the bus… like last time.

At least they knew that when you were concentrating on your hobby, you were a completely calm and focused person, so they weren't going to have the problem of you showing up with a hockey stick to block a good spike in the middle of the game, because you already had done it before. So you were allowed to stand on the bench next to Kiyoko to do your job and take as many photos as you wanted, catching the curious eyes of the Aoba Josai students because they didn't understand what the hell you were doing there just taking photos.

Oikawa really wanted to approach you and ask you to take photos of him too because they were going to be much better than those of your friends, Iwaizumi saw his intentions and a simple look made him tremble, no asking you anything for now. It's not like you haven't taken photos of the blue and white team anyway.

Before halfway through the match you finished the reel you were asked to deliver so… you started to get a bit bored, a stupid smile grew on your face as you watched as in one of the breaks the guys seemed really concerned about the outcome of the simple practice match, you used your half neuron to stop them from making those serious expressions.

"What's up with you guys? You are more tense than Doraemon in a customs control! Come on! Pose like French whores for me!"

Your camera flash went off, grabbing the attention of all the players—opposing team included—even though they had already been paying attention to you since you started speaking. You laughed at the captured image, Daichi staring at the camera with the most serious expression in the world, Suga with a small goofy smile, Asahi holding back his laughter just like Yamaguchi, Noya choking on the water and splashing Tanaka, Hinata letting go a laugh while Tsuki had a grimace that you couldn't tell if he was irritated or amused and Kageyama had this creepy smile on his face.

"Geez…everything would be perfect if Daichi didn't have that resting bitch face- EEEK-" you ducked just as one of the balls flew towards you, the throbbing vein on the captain's forehead told you enough to get you start to pray because he had heard you, you began to run dodging the balls. "Jesus Christ, forgive my life! I didn't mean to say that you have the face of a bitch- although yes-, but not like that! OWW-"

Finally one of the balls hit your neck, almost making you stumble, luckily instead of finding yourself on the ground, you found yourself with a frown and completely angry look.

“Oh, thank god a cute guy got me, huh- thanks man."

You patted his blonde head, leaving Aoba's team completely shocked to see the tips of Kyotani's ears turn red, Oikawa losing it in the background because you had called Mad Dog cute boy before him.

After Daichi scolded you for entertaining them, you sat like a scolded dog next to Kiyoko, who just looked amused at your interactions, all it took was a pat on the shoulder as comfort from her and you had already melted right there, luckily the videos on your phone kept you busy enough not to interrupt the game.

Matsukawa and Hanamiaki definitely came up to you after the match ended to ask for your phone number, you shared that weird energy with them, they knew it the moment they saw you laugh at Tsukishima comparing him to Chicken Little and hearing how you called Tanaka 'my favorite bald friend'.

Your boys get a little jealous because you found another duo that shares the same stupidity with you and on top of that they are their rivals, Oikawa is also jealous because you shared the photos you took of them with Mattsun and Makki but not with him.

You assure Tanaka and Noya that they're your favorites as you wink knowingly at the other duo, they chuckle, winking back as they promise Oikawa that they'll pass on all the photos you took, just before you sent them for the new group you had with Makki and Mattsun you gave them a little touch up with Photoshop.

"Pfft-"

Matsukawa laughed reading the message you sent, an attached file with the photos you took that day of his team, Hanamaki accompanies him with a giggle, sending the files through the team's group chat.

"Why am I bald in all the pictures!?"

"Mmm, you have a certain appeal with that glowing skull."

"Iwa-chan you can't be serious! Who edited this?"

"No idea."

The duo shared a look, shrugging at the same time as they watched their captain complain about the images you had 'minimally' retouched.

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nykie-love-anime · 10 months

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Day 18 ~ Road Trip

The team during a road trip to the beach and their roles while on this road trip.

Daichi

The one driving

Because coach and Takeda are tired after the year they just had and they deserve sleep

No other answers are accepted, except for Sugawara, because they want to arrive to the beach safely

Yeah coach Ukai and Takeda are there but the boys wanted to treat them for everything they have done for them

Reader

The one that brought snacks and drinks

Tissues for Tanaka because he usually cries during some movies

A first-aid kit because they are rowdy boys, they get into a lot of accidents

And movies to play on the car screen for said rowdy boys

Tanaka

The one that screams punch buggy the whole time when he sees a Beetle

He punches someone “gently” because man doesn’t know his strength

He is the one that cries at the movie playing

He loves to play dumb car games along with Asahi

Nishinoya

Man loves to snack

“I want one.” He points at the chips in Hinata’s hand

“Give me that.” He takes the box of cookies from Asahi

“Let me just take that.” He takes the bag of chips from Hinata because he is less likely to bite him

Asahi

Likes to play car games like the old man that he is along with Tanaka

Let’s Nishinoya eat his cookies because he brought extra just for that reason

Not that the rowdy boy ever lets him eat alone with the second box

Brought a volleyball ball and a net just for beach volleyball

Sugawara

Plays the games along with Asahi and Tanaka when he is not giving directions

The one that actually know how to read the roadmap when the GPS gives out

The co-driver whenever Daichi gets tired or just needs a break

Just being an amazing navigator not missing any signs where to turn or somethings like that

Tsukishima

Backseat driver

He just likes to bitch about everything and everyone

If he doesn’t like the food you packed you will not hear the end of it

“This is a boring movie Y/N.” to “Could you not pack better snacks?”

“Can you guys shut up I am trying to focus on my music.”

Has his headphones on for most of the ride after he is done bitching

Hinata

The one that sits in the very back, quietly for once while looking out of the window not bothering a soul

Because Kageyama is out cold for most of the drive he can be a bit calm

Just waiting to get to the beach to play volleyball because boy is obsessed

Kageyama

The sleeper

He loves his sleep and he knows once they get to the beach he is not going to sit still for a minute

The eater

But going back to sleep after filling his stomach

Yamaguchi

The one who reminds the driver to pull over so that everyone can go to the bathroom

Also remind the driver the boys needs to stretch their legs

And telling interesting facts about what he knows

“The cornea is one of only two parts of the human body without blood vessels.”

Then he goes on and on about what he knows but they love him so they pretend to listen to all his facts

Loves to give his 2 cents when Daichi and Sugawara are talking about certain things he knows a lot about

Ennoshita

The one that has the perfect music taste

He plays music every time they are on a trip

Will accommodate everyone’s need when it isn’t crap songs

Kinoshita

Like Hinata he sits in the very back

Reading the newest spy drama series he is interested in

Not talking unless he is spoken to

Narita

Also sits at the very back

He likes to play video games on his switch only bothering you when he is hungry for something

Like Kinoshita he is quiet unless spoken to

Takeda

The one who reminds everyone to put on sunscreen once they get to the beach

Also the one who reminds everyone to drink enough fluids as it is very hot as to not pass out from dehydration

Coach Ukai

He is the one that doesn’t listen to Takeda and catches a nasty sunburn

He fell asleep after getting to the beach because he didn’t sleep to well the night before

Thanks to Takeda keeping him awake stressing about their safety on a phone call

Yachi

Buys everyone an ice cream of their choice

Reads quietly while watching the boys play beach volleyball

Will participate when they ask her to help the with extra players

Like Takeda reminds the boys to drink water

Kiyoko

Keeps the rowdy boys in check when they start to get to loud in the bus and on the beach as well

Plays volleyball along with the boys without being asked

She is not afraid to dive for the ball and everyone is impressed with her

Including you, her twin brother, who could not be prouder that you taught her how to play in your first year as high schoolers

Day 17 | Masterlist | Day 19

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nope-i-dont-think-i-will · 2 years

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Kisses with Haikyuu! P1:

Headcannons on how kisses are with these characters <3 (btw I'm not actually going by team order I'm just doing the ones I think of first)

Haikyuu x gn! Reader

Karasuno:

Sawamura Daichi:

Kisses with Daichi are gentle. No matter how rough he may be being, or how angry he could be he takes his time to make sure you understand he loves you with every single kiss. His chapped lips press gently to your forehead or your lips in a way that makes you understand his angry, rough nature isn't reason to be intimidated by him. He is gentle with your lips and your heart, and he shows it in every single kiss he gives you.

Koushi Sugawara:

Kisses with Suga are sudden. He presses his lips to yours before he just walks off onto court not caring about the blushing mess he has left behind. He caresses your neck in sloppy kisses, no sexual intent behind them as he enjoys a lazy day by your side: the sudden action making you jump beneath his touch. He finds a way to catch you at least slightly off guard with every one of them and his spontaneous nature gives a fun, chaotic energy that no one can match.

Asahi Azumane:

Kisses with Asahi are meaningful. His lips tell the love stories and sing you the love songs in every kiss that hes too nervous to speak aloud. He kisses you on your rough days, your best days, all with a small smile and a silent reassurance or amazement in his eyes that shows you how much you mean to him without words. He presses kisses to your knuckles as a sign for you to understand he loves you and hes glad you've grown to understand his nonverbal signs.

Ryuunosuke Tanaka:

Kisses with Tanaka are firm. They are reminders that hes here for you through good and bad and that no matter what's going on hes willing to drop it and stay by your side. He kisses with a passion only described by his love for you. He isnt good with words and never will be, so his kisses stay firm on your lips, neck and cheeks to remind you he loves you when he cant find the right words.

Yuu Nishinoya:

Kisses with Nishinoya are constant. He finds the time all the time to plant a few kisses before he has to part from you. Anywhere you go he steals a kiss before you head off that way. When you sit together somewhere he finds time to place a few to your neck or knuckles with zero worries for who's around or why they would care. His constant kisses are a constant reminder of how amazing he finds you and how much he adores you.

Chikara Ennoshita:

Kisses with Ennoshita are stolen. He gently turns your head his way and steals a small kiss while the team is looking away before a game, or presses a loving kiss to your shoulder while you lay together for a moment before you have to go somewhere. His hands will be intertwined with yours before he suddenly raises yours just enough to kiss your knuckles. Gentle, sudden and sweet his stolen kisses linger.

Hisashi Kinoshita:

Kisses with Kinoshita are light. He kisses as if hes worried his lips will hurt you and in some way he is. Hes worried you wont understand how much he loves you if he acts needy or too clingy, so he gives light kisses that linger for only a second or two before he pulls away with a smile. Even after his insecurities fade to the wayside his kisses are still lighter than feather, and instead are more frequent as he finds he just prefers the feeling.

Kazuhito Narita:

Kisses with Narita are domestic. He finds his time to kiss you when he leaves your side, a simple kiss on the cheek as he gives you a small smile and an "I love you" before you part ways. When you stay with him he kisses you good morning and good night and makes sure his kisses count as he snakes his arms around your waist as the two of you cuddle. Hes got an air of a soon to come domestic life that includes you.

Kageyama Tobio:

Kisses with Kageyama are intense. His lips lock perfectly onto yours as it seems he steals the breath from your lungs. You pull away and a small bit of saliva connects the two of you as you both pant a little. He acts as if this isnt something to leave you both breathless and will walk out onto court afterwards as if no one saw. His eyes sparkle with love and passion before and after the kisses, and it has a way of making your heart twirl.

Shoyo Hinata:

Kisses with Hinata are quick. They are loving and full of passion but what stands out the most is how quick they are. It's a peck to the lips before he runs off to a game, or a kiss to the shoulder before he hugs you from behind. It's small, quick kisses that mean the world in both of your eyes and you would have it no other way with him.

Tadashi Yamaguchi:

Kisses with Yamaguchi are loving. His lips linger on yours for a second and his little "I love you" that follows every kiss just makes the point even more obvious. He mutters out the phrase with every small, chaste kiss he gives you and for some its clingy but for you it melts your heart. The soothing way his hand runs circles on your waistline as he pulls you in a little closer in some of the tender moments you have shared makes your heart thump a little more as his words burn into the back of your mind. "I love you"

Kei Tsukishima:

Kisses with Tsukishima are lazy. His hands lazily run your hip lines as he either leans down slightly to your level or his head twists to interlock your lips with a lazy movement. His kisses are so much more layed back then you would have originally thought when you got together: but as soon as you two became comfortable with your kisses they became a leisurely thing you didnt think much about as anything other than a casual showing of your love for eachother. His lips and yours dance without too much thought and he couldn't ask for more.

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fulloffencekurooishotterthanyou · 2 years

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can I request what would be the 5 love languages of hq boys ? :)

Oh, dear Anon, you have me squealing in my study. Hopefully, I interpreted this correctly for u, it’s my first request. If you’d like any specific characters and their love language in detail, feel free to let me know and I’ll whip smth up :) ~ Jitsu xoxo

Words of affirmation:

He knows exactly what to say to you. It’s been the case since day one of your relationship, all the way to the present day. Some say he has you wrapped around his little finger, but you know from the bottom of your heart everything he says is genuine. He reminds you you’re worth it, with every “I love you, my dear.” and whispers little secrets only for your ears on the train or when you’re falling asleep beside him. His love language is so obvious, his words definitely affirm you and your relationship with him, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

Daichi, Kenma, Oikawa, Asahi, Yamaguchi, Kita, Aone, Hayato, Fukunaga, Narita

Acts of service He’ll do anything for you. Except for the times when he knows you want to be independent, he is ready to fight the world to make you happy. He’ll grab things higher up (but maybe he put them up there on purpose, who knows), rub your back when you ask for it, do the laundry even though you offered to do it; he’s always been a man of action, and you don’t see that changing any time in the future. He also does subtle things like filling your car tank with petrol when he knows it’s low on fuel and stocks up on the beverage he knows you love.

Bokuto, Tendō, Atsumu, Iwaizumi, Aran, Kinoshita, Lev, Futakuchi, Kyōtani, Washio

Gifts His gifts never seem to run out. Sometimes you wonder how he even finds all these things, but you love and cherish everything he has ever bought you. Even the pair of socks with cheesy, cliche quotes on them; you wore them as soon as they were washed. His gifts are usually sentimental, if not beautiful or useful, such as bouquets of flowers, little pastries he saw you eyeing from a nearby pastry, new earphones when you dropped them on the floor ONE time and they broke, or anything he finds that reminds him of you. Over time you have a little treasure trove of your trinkets and gifts, that always make you smile when you see/use them.

Akaashi, Yahaba, Konoha, Tanaka, Kai, Semi, Yaku, Goshiki, Koganegawa, Haruki

Quality time He always makes time for you. Even when life gets hectic or your schedules aren’t aligning perfectly, he does his absolute best to see you. With every meet up or date, he makes sure things run as smoothly as they can, so he can be there in the moment with you. Sometimes, he doesn’t say anything, you just bask in the comfortable silence together, enjoying each other’s company. A few times he has cancelled big plans because you desperately needed him, and you know he will always come to see you when you ask. All of his time with you he calls precious and you both can’t resist having each other’s company.

Kageyama, Hanamaki, Tsukishima, Sakusa, Ennoshita, Ushijima, Kindachi, Kunimi

Physical touch His love is physical and present. Brushing hair out of your face, hugging you from behind or kisses on your neck, he does his best to keep close to you in all the ways he can. You savour every touch from him, basking in his presence. You know he’s not always around, but when you are together, you become near inseparable. His touch always lingers around you, and for the times he’s gone for longer periods of time, he always makes it up to you, through wordless, intimate contact.

Osamu, Hinata, Sugawara, Kuroo, Matsukawa, Nishinoya, Terushima, Suna, Akiteru

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hoeforinarizaki · 1 year

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HIGHER.

Type: Headcanons

Karasuno x Chinese!Opera Singer!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your style of singing was often bashed and made fun of by most people around different countries. As a way of comforting your love for opera, you team decides to...

No Warnings! Full fluff.

The Song That Will Be Mentioned In The Headcanons:

Yunjin's Opera Performance: Devastation & Redemption

Karasuno:

The moment you shared your worries with the team, it was literally chaos 👌

Nishinoya and Tanaka asked you to start singing on the spot which flustered you because...yeah no, you've sang in front of a crowd but– around them? It feels so different.

Because you refused to sing, this made them sulk 😭

Most had found opera weird because of the unusual use of vibrato and overall not finding it interesting, but people instead decided to tell you your singing is bad.

Sugawara was having none of it. He literally gifted you an entire essay of why you're so awesome the next day 💕

Everyone except Saltyshitma Tsukishima praises you for your talents, because sheesh those VOCALS–

If someone insults you again best be ready for a beating.

With Tanaka and Nishinoya in the lead. Of course they'd be the main hoes when fighting for your justice 🥵💅

Jokes aside, they don't care if people think your style of singing is 'uninteresting' or 'strange'. Be yourself, that's it, period okay.

Once the day came for your performance, you had written the lyrics all by yourself ✨️

Inspired by a certain game *cough*genshin*cough*

Although you were sure you didn't need to push yourself to make the audience erupt in an ovation...

The moment the lights flicker onto you, with your back turned initially on stage, you could hear those familiar voices right behind you 🤡

"(Y/N)-chan, we love you! Do your best!"

"Shut the fuck up or we'll get kicked out, shortie."

"You shut up, Salty Beanpole." It for real brought a smile to your face, even though they were loud as fuck 😭

They didn't get kicked out if that's what they were thinking. It's not even an official performance, for real you're not a popular artist amongst those big people.

Just you, performing out in the open stage during the twinkling starlight 🌃

But still, the fact they even came despite being broke and all just to listen to your singing...🤧

Nope, change of plans. Gotta do your absolute BEST rn.

And the moment you started, they were startled because like...some dumbasses forgot you're chinese /hj

Singing in a different language, they were not used to it lol. Yet hearing you do it just makes them swell full on pride and so much happiness too.

Like...that's our manager, so cool, isn't she? 😍

But NOT just that, they were also paying close attention to the lyrics and the story you had written behind it.

Only Ennoshita, Kinoshita and Narita are actually enjoying it peacefully and mentally praising your voice. Noya on the other hand...

"Really?! A little girl who can fight with a sword? That just sounds so awesome!" Stfu and let the crowd enjoy

Not gonna lie, Asahi, Hinata, Yamaguchi, Tanaka and Nishinoya probably started crying at the end because hello? That was such an amazing story? 😃

The fact they even heard a high note in the middle while talking was fr impressive ngl–

Once you get off stage, call 911 immediately.

They will be hugging the air out of your body that you can barely even breathe already 😭 you finna die rn??

Daichi fr has to smack the boys over the head just to make them let your little form go.

But we all know that some of them are gonn ask you so many questions like–

"Can you speak in chinese for me again..? uwu" "Can you teach me how to sing like that?!" And so on.

Good luck with these dorks ig 🤪

#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #anime and manga #x reader #karasuno #daichi sawamura #sugawara hcs #hinata shoyo x reader #hq kageyama #tsukishima hcs #yamaguchi x y/n #karasuno x reader #ennoshita x reader #kinoshita hisashi #narita haikyuu #genshin impact #yunjin #opera #Spotify

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zeroeightzeroone · 15 hours

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homesick - han jisung

love collection

genre: comfort, angst? soft

pairings: fem!reader (infp) x idol!han jisung (istp)

warnings: none?

wc ~3.7k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

you miss your boyfriend–you miss him a lot.

how could you not?

all you have wanted to do for the past couple of weeks is throw your arms around jisung and hold him close. you want to keep your boyfriend so tightly against your chest that you're encapsulated by the warmth radiating off his body, the warmth that never fails to comfort you, resting your head against his chest to listen to how his heart beats in tandem with your own. you miss the physical closeness with jisung.

stray kids has been on tour since late april this year, and the last leg of the tour is expected to end early april next year. while that's quite a long time for the boys to be away, they'd be back in asia in late july and on a break until the tour kicks back up in early september. it's currently the beginning of july.

thankfully, you weren't taking any summer courses. through the grace of whatever higher power there is up there, you managed to convince your boss to let you work remotely so you could join jisung and the boys for two weeks during the japanese leg of their tour back at the beginning of june.

you loved watching jisung perform. seeing him firsthand from the crowd, in his element when he's on stage, performing his art and perfecting his craft, makes your heart lurch; you fall for the man all over again, watching him up there. seeing it firsthand is completely different from watching videos of him–you can feel the energy radiating off him when he's up there.

at the end of those two weeks, you and the boys ended up in the same place: the airport. you were boarding a plane back to seoul, and they were boarding a plane to their first tour stop in america. due to the influx of reporters and fans waiting at narita international airport, your goodbyes to the boys and their staff had to be in the hotel, inside your rooms, hours before checkout time.

knock, knock, knock.

"come in!" you call whoever is on the other side of the door; if it's any of the boys, then they will be accompanied by jisung, who has the extra room key for your room.

you grunt in a squatting position as you move your luggage from laying on the ground, on its back, to standing upright on its wheels. you hear the keycard machine beep from the other side of the door in confirmation as you're hunched over, wheeling your luggage up against the wall before standing up straight and rubbing your palms against your jeans. you watch as the front door opens to reveal the eight boys, jisung in front, holding the keycard to your hotel room. behind them, the managers and some guards come into the room with them, but the bodyguards stay outside.

"y/n!" felix whines with a pout as he pushes forward, running to you and enveloping you in his arms, "fly safe, okay?"

you pat the freckled boy's back appreciatively as you nod.

"make sure you text ji when you land, okay?"

"i will, but you guys will still be in the air when he gets that message."

felix pulls away, his hands on your shoulders as he looks at you, "still, it's the thought that counts." you smile and giggle at felix, who moves aside for the next couple of members to say their goodbyes to you.

your exchanges with jeongin, minho and changbin are on the shorter side; brief hugs with jeongin and changbin, who thank you for coming to support them in concert, meanwhile minho gives you a half hug and pats your head as he bids you farewell, thanking you for taking two weeks out of the many months jisung will spend talking about how much he'll miss you.

meanwhile, hyunjin, chan and seungmin's hugs last a little longer when you're swayed around a little bit and told to be safe, get a lot of rest on the plane and not miss them too much. chan lets you know that if there is any other time you're going to be free when they're on tour, let them know, and they'll arrange everything for you–from the plane tickets to where you're staying–anything at all.

seungmin, the member you're closest to after your boyfriend, whispers in your ear quietly to ensure it's kept between the two of you: "i know you're going to ask me to take care of jisung for you, so don't worry about that. don't worry about hannie; we all got him."

the reassurance brings a smile to your face, and your grip on seungmin gets tighter in appreciation. the boy sways your bodies back and forth, patting your back when you separate. when he pulls away, he steps aside to reveal your boyfriend standing there with a pout, his big, brown eyes glossy as tears build up at his waterline. you have to bite your lip to keep from sobbing.

you were already feeling on the verge of tears when felix came rushing in and pulled you into a hug. chan's words about arranging anything and everything if you're free, then seungmin assuring you that they'll look out for your boyfriend while on tour and now, here's your boyfriend, your hannie, your jisung, looking at you with teary eyes.

you open your arms and jisung runs into them, prompting you to take a step back at the sudden impact, but jisung's tight grip around your waist protects you from any chance of falling backward. jisung buries his face in the crook of your neck while your arms are wrapped around his neck, your chin resting on his shoulder as your eyes are squeezed shut. your grip on each other is tight, knowing that once either of you lets go, the next time you'll be in each other's arms is in two months.

jisung lets a choked whimper slip out that he tries to hide with a cough. you smack his back gently, "ya!"

you clear your throat, trying your best to stay composed and stern as you utter the next words.

"if you cry, i'm going to cry too!" your voice cracks and trembles as you speak.

"i'm not crying," he denies. though his voice is muffled from his head buried in the crook of your neck, you can clearly hear that it's softer than usual, shaky, and uneasy.

you let out a pained laugh, "liar." the tears flow down your cheeks as you hold him even tighter.

"i'm not lying!" jisung continues to deny. he lifts his head up from your neck, and you stand there, still in each other's arms, looking at each other, "see."

what you see is how jisung's cheeks are flushed, wet with tears that probably fell and landed on the fabric of the hoodie you're wearing, his lashes clumped together with tears as he tries to keep his lips pursed together when they're trembling and threatening to go back to that pout. on the other hand, your tears are freely falling as you stare up at your boyfriend through your fluttering lids, mouth opening and closing as you breathe heavily through your pouted lips, cheeks also flushed and damp. you smack his chest.

"what?" he whines.

you open your mouth to laugh at him, but instead, a sob comes out. you fall back into his arms and bury your face into his chest as you cry.

"look who's crying now," jisung retorts as his arms move around your body again, holding you close. one hand rests on the small of your back while the other caresses your hair.

"yeah, the both of you," minho teases and jisung glares at the boy, but the older one just smiles back.

the rest of the boys watch the exchange between you and jisung with a slight ache in their chests as they remember how hard it was to say goodbye to their friends and family before leaving. chan looks around and he gathers everyone to leave, wanting to give you and jisung a minute alone to say your goodbyes before the driver takes you to the airport.

pulling away, jisung moves his hands to your face and brushes your hair back, some strands sticking to your skin because of tears as you hiccup. even when your hair is out of your face, he continues to stroke your hair back while the other hand is on your cheek, gently caressing the skin with the pad of his thumb. the two of you stare up at each other, sniffling.

"i love you," jisung whispers, his voice hoarse from crying.

you nod, sniffling and hiccuping in return, "i love you too."

jisung smiles down at you, "hey, i'll be back before you know it."

your eyelids flutter as you blink quickly, and your hands play with the back of the sweatshirt jisung is wearing.

"i'll text you everyday," he reminds, "i'll call you as much as i can, and as much our schedules and the time zones allow for."

you sigh shakily, "i'm gonna miss you so much."

"i'm going to miss you so much too, my love," jisung brushes your hair back again, "god, i wish i could just take you with me. two months away from you? that's too long."

you snicker, nodding in agreement, "i do too. but hey, i'll get to see so many videos of you taken by stay, doing your thing on stage."

your boyfriend smiles, gazing down at you lovingly.

"i'm so proud of you. look at you," you sigh, lips curled up in a smile, "my boyfriend is going on a world tour."

"do you know what that means?" you tilt your head in confusion, "souvenirs from every stop that remind me of you!"

since he left, both of you have been sending texts daily and video calls whenever your schedules permit it and when the time zones line up enough so it isn't too early or too late for either of you.

sometimes your calls only prompt you to miss jisung even more, wishing he was next to you and that his voice wasn't just coming through a device while he's on the other side of the world, but the distance also means you continue to long for the day jisung comes home. you know his parents long for that day as well, his mother sending you texts every couple of days asking when you're free so you can go out together. as jisung likes to put it–spending time with her future daughter-in-law.

however, as the number of days away from jisung increases, the number of days before jisung returns also decreases. with that in mind, you try to stay positive and look forward to the day he comes home.

now that the boys are in america, they've been quite busy rehearsing, checking and then rechecking their formations and any technical details that could go wrong during the concerts, the process repeating at each venue as they sync up their equipment with the new venues. their team organizing and making sure everything is okay with the venue and other organizers. as a result, jisung has been too busy to call late at night as he passes out the moment he's in his hotel room from the venue, then waking up a couple hours later to hop on a flight to the next destination.

he sends you texts here and there throughout his day, sending random photos of himself and the members during rehearsals or before and after the show. on jisung's end, he sent a text over when he landed early in the morning, saying he could probably hop on a call quickly when he gets to the hotel, seeing as they're going to be in inglewood for a little over a week for two shows instead of one. you were about to leave work when the message came through. going home for the evening when the message reminded you of your phone call with jisung's mother.

"hello, eomeonim (mother-in-law)," you greet when the line connects.

"y/n, myeoneuri (daughter-in-law)," she speaks into the phone, her tone sweet as usual. she doesn't say anything for a moment before speaking, "is this a bad time? you don't sound like you're at home?"

"ah, sorry eomeonim," you apologize, "i just got off the bus, but i'm on the way home now. but don't worry, i can talk if you need me."

"ah okay, i won't keep you too long then, myeoneuri," she assures before continuing, "have you spoken to jisung on the phone recently?"

you hum as you think, "I think it's been a couple of days since our last phone call; why? is he okay?"

you hear jisung's mother sigh on the other end of the line, "i'm a little worried, if i'm honest," you hum in acknowledgment and she continues, "he sounded quite down on our phone call yesterday and the day before. he told me not to worry when i asked… i know this might be a lot, but would you mind talking to him? if it's you, he'll open up more–at least, he'll have talked about what's on his mind."

"yeah, yeah, of course," you agree, "i'll see if we can call tonight, and i'll check up on him, see how he's doing, eomeonim. don't worry too much, i'm sure ji is okay!"

she chuckles on the other end, "ah, you sound just like him, y/n. don't tell him i sent you!"

you laugh in response to her rushed addition at the end of her statement: "i won't say anything," she sighs in relief, "was there anything else you were curious about?"

she hums, "nothing else, thank you so much, myeoneuri. i'll see you on the weekend, okay? come over whenever you want! the door is always open for you!"

your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you smile, "thank you, i'll see you in a couple of days. bye eomeonim!"

"goodbye, myeoneuri! get home safely. i love you," she bids her farewells, which you exchange right back with her before she hangs up the call.

thinking back to that conversation, you wonder what worried jisung's mother about him; was it how he spoke? his tone? the words he used? was he quite active in the conversation, or did he seem more passive? you wonder what exactly she meant by jisung sounding quite down, but you guess you'll figure it out when he calls you in the morning.

it's around eight in the morning when your phone rings from the bedside table. yunjin should already be awake and ready for work, so the ringer volume doesn't wake anyone up except you. you roll around, feeling around the bedside table for the device. you accept his call quickly and place the phone to your ear.

a deep yawn leaves your lips before you say, "ji baby?"

you hear him hum in acknowledgment on the other end before he replies, "yeah, baby, it's me." a sleepy smile forms on your lips at the sound of his voice. " did I wake you?"

you groan softly as you flick the lamp on, the sudden brightness causing you to squint, "yes but i don't mind. i just wanna hear your voice. are you back at the hotel now?"

"yeah, we got back a while ago. i just wanted to be ready for bed before calling; this way i can fall asleep while you're on the line," jisung explains, and you feel your cheeks heat up at his sentiments.

he continues to talk about what they did today. you're gradually more awake and more attentive as the minutes pass, so eventually, you realize what jisung's mother was referring to when it sounded like he's been down. jisung is speaking monotone, his voice softer, and when he speaks, it sounds like his mind is elsewhere.

when he's finished, you decide to segway into that conversation, "how are you feeling?"

he pauses for a moment, taken aback before he shrugs, "i'm tired, it's been a long day of rehearsal. what about you? how are you feeling?"

"i'm doing good, i'm hearing your voice, so i'm doing great," you answer quickly before he tries to shift the conversation to you, "are you physically tired or?"

jisung is lying in bed as he speaks to you, looking up at the ceiling and thinking of his replies, "yeah. dancing and all."

"emotionally?"

"emotionally?" he repeats to which you confirm, "i mean… i'm okay–better now since i'm hearing your voice after a couple of days… it's been a busy last couple of days."

you nod, running a hand through your tangled hair as you listen to jisung on the other end. his tone is still distracted as his words graze over how he's feeling, avoiding delving deeper into it. realizing that maybe he isn't ready to delve deeper into his emotions, you allow him to shift the conversation to your life and what you've been up to while he's been on tour–asking you how work has been and if anything new has occurred. you answer jisung honestly; there is nothing new at work as it's the same job you've had since getting into university; the only new events would be the lunch you have on the weekend with jisung's mother, aunt and grandmother.

the latter part of your updates brings a smile to jisung's lips, his heart warming at the thought of the most important women in his life spending quality time together. but at the same time, hearing your updates about your life back at home, no matter how small you think they are or if they're the same things that always happen, has jisung's chest aching in a completely different way.

"ji?" you call, not hearing anything coming from his end, "did you fall asleep?" you pause to listen, to survey whether or not you hear soft snores or heavy breathing that indicate that he is indeed asleep.

instead, jisung responds after a couple of moments, "i'm still here. i'm awake."

"are you okay?" you wonder, "if you're tired then i can go–"

"no, don't go," he quickly interrupts, "sorry."

"don't apologize, i just wanna make sure you're okay," you reassure, and you hear him hum in acknowledgment.

"i miss you," he declares softly, his voice solemn as he speaks.

"i miss you too, ji," you sigh, instinctively clutching the pillow closer to your chest.

the boy on the other end ponders for a moment before continuing, "i miss you a lot. i don't really know how to explain it," jisung blinks up at the ceiling, "i miss you all the time, but when we get back to the hotel or when i'm not performing, i miss you even more."

jisung's eyebrows knit in frustration as he continues to explain himself.

"i love being on stage, i love performing," he states, "i can't explain how i feel when i'm performing either, but… there's a feeling of contentment or fullness? i don't know… i just know i love to be up there. but…"

"but?" you encourage him to continue as his words trail off.

"but when i get back to the hotel, or when it's all over, i feel tired: the adrenaline doesn't last as long as it usually does. but even though i'm tired, it's hard to fall asleep."

you aren't sure where to place jisung's words, unsure if you've ever felt the way he's been feeling lately, uncertain if you can relate, but at the least, you want to understand and reassure him that you're there.

"there's a feeling of emptiness that kinda just sits there when i'm not on stage," his voice is softer when he says the word 'emptiness' like it's a fragile word, one he's unsure of, "i wasn't sure what it was before but listening to you talk started to help me realize what caused the emptiness."

"something i said helped you realize?" you repeat for clarification.

"yeah, listening to you talk about home, work, the local cafes, the conversations you have with my mom–just everything about your life at home," jisung lists, "i'm feeling homesick."

your lips part in awe when the last word leaves his mouth, the singular word allowing you to reconceptualize what he said previously and gain a greater understanding.

"i tried my best to distract myself and rehearse more to combat those feelings of emptiness but nothing seemed to work; it just stuck there. listening to you helped combat some of my homesickness but…"

"but it's still there," you finish his sentence, and he agrees with a sigh.

"i love being onstage, i feel so alive when i'm up there," now, when jisung speaks, his tone is clearer, and his thoughts are clearer, the way he's speaking signalling that instead of being lost in his own thoughts he's got both feet on the ground and he's working through them, "but i miss home so much. god… i miss you so damn much."

you smile sadly when you hear him sniffle.

"i miss my bed at the dorms, the air fryer at the dorms that we don't even use. i miss the smell of your laundry detergent and shampoo, i miss being in your arms, and you playing with my hair. i miss being at home."

jisung cries softly as he speaks, sniffling and continuing to list off the things that he misses at home. it brings tears to your eyes; using your comforter to dab the tears off your face.

"hey…" you call into the phone, "would it help if i sent little voice messages throughout the day so you could hear my voice? i can send pictures of things you love here too? just a couple more weeks, and you'll be here, and i'll hold you so tightly you get sick of me."

"i'll never be sick of being in your arms," he remarks, "and if it isn't too much, i would love that, all of it." jisung smiles at your suggestions, appreciative of you and your ideas to help him combat his homesickness until he's back in seoul.

"i'll try my best."

"baby?" he coos, prompting a soft response from you, "do you think we can video call? i wanna see your face before i sleep. can you stay until i fall asleep?"

your cheeks heat up from your boyfriend's suggestion, and your heart feels giddy at seeing his face for a couple of minutes before he falls asleep. " of course, baby."

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embossross · 6 months

Text

From His Mind to Hers

chapter 13 >> Chapter 14>> masterlist

✣ Pairing: Hanma x AFAB fem!Reader

✣ Warning: 18+, minors DNI; unhealthy relationships & dark content

✣ Chapter CW: Processing trauma from abuse and sexual violence (rape aftermath), unhealthy coping mechanisms, revenge porn, slut shaming/misogyny, suicidal ideation (sort of – threats)

✣ Story CWs: patient/doctor relationships; smut (oral, ptv, pta, etc.), degradation, stalking, torture (not of y/n), murder, dubcon & abuse in c13, discussions of trauma and abuse, drug use, and more

✣ Synopsis: Forced into therapy, Hanma expects to waste his time and yours, but you’re not about to let the chance of a high-profile and higher paying patient slip through your grasp. The fact that you’re both attracted to each other doesn’t hurt either.

✣ Word Count: 5.5k+

The janitor deserves a raise.

The floors gleam, pearlescent and buffed to a shine that threatens to serve your reflection back to you. Where you sit, elbows to knees, staring at the floor, you notice every shoe scuff and dropped luggage tag. Fleeting messes that the janitor is quick to erase from existence. A few sweeps of the mop and everything returns to its former state, beautiful and shining.

“Flight NH451 to Okinawa is now boarding,” a crystalline voice announces first in Japanese, then English, then Mandarin.

No one else has time to study the floors. Compared to the bustle of Tokyo-Narita, Haneda Airport is calmer, but all airports in your experience share an atmosphere of restrained anxiety. For many people, it’s the one time they must completely surrender any pretenses of control over their lives and accept that they are subject to the whims of weather, technical failure, fate.

You know a thing or two about that.

Fussy babies burp and cry while their older siblings fare little better. The line for the Hong Kong Express baggage check stretches around the corner, creeping forward at a pace that promises a missed flight for whichever fool arrives with only two hours to make it to their terminal. A group of college-aged girls kneel on the floor, bags spread out as they shuffle the contents around, trying to find the magic formula that will sneak them below the weight limit. Hunched like they’re already exhausted from standing for so long, an elderly couple waits in mute silence, in a place beyond words. Nearly everyone else stares at their phones, willing the minutes to pass. It’s a fair difference from the energy you’d find over in arrivals, where half the passengers are haggard from a long day of international travel and the other half sprint, energized, into the arms of waiting loved ones. It churns your stomach to think about all those people, crying through tears of joy.

It may appear like the line isn’t moving, but it’s like the Argonaut. From where you’ve sat to the side watching for the last four hours, you know an assemblage of new faces will gradually replace these, the line somehow never shorter but its components entirely new.

In all this time, not one person has taken note of the woman rooted to one spot, the perpetual observer of the thousands of people who all have better places to be.

The promise of invisibility is what drew you to the airport this morning. Amid the minutiae and petty concerns of the mob, you may as well be furniture. Surrendering to that invisibility evokes a blissful relief.

It is your natural habitat.

As a child, you mastered the art of being there and not there at the same time. You remember miserable days spent locked in your room whenever you caught so much as a sniffle. Your mother would banish you to the narrow three tatami mat room, terrified that your germs might spread and infect her.

At first, every minute would tick by with the weight of eternity. Staring at the ceiling, phlegm draining back through your sinuses and stomach in a pounding knot, you would count each tile one by one. The trick was to stretch the count as long as possible, to sit and savor each number in your mind’s eye, because you knew when you finished it would be back to one again. No windows opened to the views outside, no toys to distract you. The most the little room offered was its thin walls through which you could hear your mother move about the house, her loud laugh down the receiver of the phone, the hum of the TV. All while you shook from fever, unattended.

Time would pass so slowly in that room. Gradually, impossibly, it would slow even further as your stomach grumbled, your throat spasmed from thirst. Your mother never thought to leave you any food or water to survive those long days in that room.

The thirstier you grew, the less you could ward off the realities of the body, thoughts fixating on each ache and pain, until finally, you learned to stop your thoughts altogether. To be there and not there at once.

Then, time would resume in a sprint, a long blink and night would fall. Once the sounds of your mother’s untroubled life ceased, you would make your move. On sock-covered feet, you would slip from your prison and edge your way to the kitchen, praying for invisibility, for no one to spot your midnight heist. You never dared fetch a glass, mimicking a thief’s caution as you leaned into the sink, mouth closing around the tap, where you would turn it onto a trickle and let the life-giving water permeate your cracked lips. In those moments, you would be there, brilliantly, blindingly there in spirit, but your body remained locked away in that room.

The tricks you learned in those days in that house have served you well over the years. Invisibility sometimes feels like a curse, resigning you forever to the periphery of life, but it also greets you like an old friend when you are most in need of protection.

How traumatizing then to search for it last night and find that old friend missing. When you needed it most, the old detachment abandoned you.

Hyper-present, you suffered every moment of Hanma’s pain and perversion. Countless times, you reached for your invisibility, hoping to slip out of yourself like a specter and leave your body to Hanma’s cruel hands, but you were only left twice as terrified to find yourself trapped inside yourself. Your mind, body, and soul were devastatingly one as you experienced the certainty that Hanma would shoot you dead as he brutalized you, as he held you with the gentleness of a lover, as he…

Your phone vibrates in your pocket. You know it’s him. It must be. His smell still lingers on the fine hairs of your nostrils, singeing them with the stench of bourbon that bled from his pores. In the blue-black dark, you could barely make out his features as he threatened you – a masked intruder hovering above you – but fuck if you couldn’t smell him, stinking up your once safe, sterilized bedroom.

Just thinking about it makes you want to…

With trembling fingers, you hunt through your purse until you find a wad of tissues to wipe the sweat that beads across your brow. It is swelteringly hot in Departures, a mix of the unseasonably warm weather and the heat of hundreds of bodies thronging together, their every exhale warming the room.

Searching through the mass of bodies, you find the janitor still at work, fix on the friendly lines of his face. He gives no indication that he notices the heat, the throngs of people, or anything else but his work. The janitor mops the floors, contented. Like you, he has no designs to go anywhere else.

The line moves several meters forward while you watch the janitor. Eventually, he lifts his head and notices you for the first time. The muscles in your face ache as you summon a smile. The result must be obscene or hostile because he hurriedly returns to mopping, a few half-hearted brushes just for show before he scurries away entirely.

Now, you are alone again.

You put your head between your legs and try to breathe like they suggest people having panic attacks do in the movies. The position does help chase back your rising gorge and settles your rolling stomach. It does nothing for your thoughts.

You remember when Hanma’s long fingers found your clit, how he exploited his knowledge of your body to rub you to a forced little orgasm, like he wouldn’t be content until you were made an active participant in your indignity, his forever accomplice, the Stavrogin to his Fedka.

A thundering accompanies a plane taking off from the tarmac, loud enough to chase away the memories. You watch the massive passenger plane soar north until it becomes a speck on the horizon. It will never cease to amaze you how for the hundreds of people aboard that plane, each knows exactly where they are going and why. Their destination is well and truly decided. Too late to change their minds or second-guess.

Whenever you try to think of where you will go next – because surely you can’t live in the airport departures lounge, surely someone, anyone, will eventually realize the ghost of a woman has made a home there, will recognize that you’ve overstayed your welcome, will chase you out, right? – your brain throws up nothing but roadblocks. You imagine returning to your cold, hostile apartment, and the contents of your stomach dance in protest. Your apartment is no longer a safe space.

Your phone vibrates again, and this time, you don’t have the strength to ignore it. Fished from your pocket, you stare at the characters in Shuji’s name, tracing them one by one. Your finger hovers over the button to answer.

What he did last night – did to you – is unforgivable. You may not know what happened to Haitani, but it doesn’t matter. You did not deserve that.

And that should be that. A definitive break with Hanma is the only logical next step. Everything you built together is decimated, just so much sawdust stamped beneath his paranoid feet.

But where does that leave you? You know there will be no returning to your old life? The apartment will never be safe again now that Hanma’s been inside, not since you invited him inside. It will never be clean after what happened.

And maybe you won’t be either. Something inside you is fundamentally changed. Because even now, some part of you wants to go to him. Perhaps want is the wrong word. Without the old survival tools that carried you through the years, you feel cast adrift, weaker than when Hanma found you.

Eventually, Hanma will escalate from ignored phone calls and, vulnerable as you are, will you be able to say no to his face? Worse, will you lean into him, longing for his protection from the demons he himself unleashed on your life?

You don’t take his call, but you don’t leave the airport either. Nothing can change so long as you stay here, but then again, nothing can hurt you either.

Stuck, your return to staring at the floors.

You choose to take the elevator up to your apartment, spending the better part of the ride convincing yourself that no demons will await you, so all five senses revolt when you find the hallway outside your door laden with cardboard boxes. They’re not taped up like a delivery would be, and besides, you pick your mail up from the mailroom downstairs. Peeking into one box, you see it’s filled with your old textbooks from university, the ones that should be neatly shelved and collecting dust in your bedroom.

Inside, pornographic moaning greets you. Stopped in your tracks, you almost miss the changes: the photographs in the entry hall have been removed, your shoes are missing from the alcove. There is no mess, just gaps where your life should be.

While taking an itemized inventory of what’s missing appeals to you, the lewd sounds coming from the living room force you forward. On the TV, a naked woman rides a man. She carries on like it’s the best damn dick of her life, touching her own body like something sacred as she cries out.

The woman is you, of course you can see that much, but your brain struggles to play catch up and process this baffling, foreign view of yourself. It’s almost harder to comprehend how wanton you appear in the video rather than that such a video exists in the first place.

“I think we can agree there’s no need for a scene.”

Emerging from the bedroom, Takashi’s doesn’t spare the screen a second glance. It would only take one to confirm that the woman in the video is you, and that the man is decidedly not him.

Between self-indulgent rounds of sex with Hanma, you often wondered how you would feel if Takashi discovered your affair. Secretly, you longed for guilt. A great tsunami of devotion to Takashi and the concept of monogamy would rise within you, the tears would fall, and seconds later, apologies would follow. You hoped for a scene out of the soap operas, something normal.

The reality is less fraught as you are too stunned to summon up any response at all. If only Takashi would turn the video off. Then, maybe your brain would work again. There is no room for coherent thought around the wet, slapping sounds intermixed with moans coming from the TV.

“I knew you were sleeping with patients for months now. It never bothered me too much. So, when I saw the videos, I didn’t understand at first why I was so repulsed by it. But then, I put it together. I had figured some fat, rich fuck at work offered you enough money, and I could hardly blame you for that. If a client offered me money to fuck, I’d do it, too. But watching the videos, I realized, you weren’t just fucking this yakuza creep for money, were you? You liked it.”

There is a forcefield around Takashi that repels your gaze. You can test its parameters by starting at the juts of his knees and slowly climbing upward. It’s around his neck, the first bit of exposed skin, that the forcefield kicks into effect, and you find you cannot bring your gaze higher than the hollow of his throat, and even that takes a supreme effort. You turn back to the video playing out on screen.

“So you’re leaving me, then?” you say because it must be said if things are to continue from here.

“Things are busy at work. I don’t see why my life should be disrupted when I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m sure you’ll take responsibility as the offending party and move out without a fuss.”

“That would be sensible,” you agree.

Heady with the realization that this is actually happening – you are truly breaking up with your boyfriend – you force yourself to look at him, one last look to imprint forever in your mind. Immediately, you wish you hadn’t.

Takashi looks past you to the video on screen, where the you of only a few weeks back is loudly and visibly announcing how much she likes every stroke of dick before erupting into a shaking orgasm. Lips curled as if tasting something foul, Takashi regards the woman in the video like something subhuman. You try to watch the video through his eyes, but you can’t break free from the chains of your own perspective, a fuzzy migraine cresting in your temples at the sight of Hanma’s body, memories of this pleasurable tryst weeks ago mixing with last night’s events until you feel like the edges of your brain are collapsing inward.

There is no point to torturing yourself with the video or further conversation. Ignoring the shame in your gut, you follow numbly a step behind Takashi as he finishes packing your things. Most of your meager belongings are already stacked in the hall, but still, there is something stunning about how quickly your life is packed up out of sight. After living together for eight years, you would have left such an indelible mark that only industrial strength tools could strip your essence from the walls of this place. There are a couple overlooked items: the vase of artificial flowers Shuji gifted you, a box of tissues if you care to be petty, the spoons with scalloped edges, but, functionally, your life is stripped, relegated to boxes, and pushed aside within a measly half hour.

All the while, the video plays on. When it finishes, autoplay kicks in and offers up a second to continue your humiliation. The second is slightly preferrable as you make less of a spectacle of your delirious pleasure in it, yet worse because it shows Shuji more clearly, the dragon tattoo on his back flexing as he pounds into your prone body, face crinkling in animal pleasure. You can’t stand to look at him.

These videos…the only explanation for their existence is Shuji. They’re an abomination, something that shouldn’t exist and can’t be allowed to continue to exist. The gall of their existence builds in you until you discover enough anger to break the silence that’s drawn tight between you and Takashi.

“Takashi, if I go quietly, will you please delete these videos?”

“Sure,” he agrees simply, but at their mention, Takashi then looks back to the sex tape on screen, and that same revulsion morphs the contours of his face into something unfamiliar. “I suspected it for months, and then after reading your diary, I knew it for certain, and still…seeing it? When I watched the first one, I debated if it was even real. It had to be some kind of tasteless hoax. Because that’s not you in these. You’re like a stranger. I mean, look at it,” he says, gesturing to the screen. “That’s not you. And that guy…How does touching that criminal freak not disgust you? It’s like watching a pig take a mud bath. Disgusting.”

The shelf where you once stored your medical magazines is barren. Naked. There isn’t much dust though. You had spent a few hours cleaning last Sunday. That’s good, you think, one good thing. Everything Takashi says about you is true. Your lack of fear or righteous hatred of Hanma signals a great moral failing on your part. You are a failure, Monstrous.

Spinning out in self-loathing, you stand mutely for a solid minute before your brain hooks onto a single detail and everything clicks firmly into place.

“Wait, you read my therapy diary?”

“Don’t go crying about privacy now. I could tell you were running around on me and wanted to know,” Takashi snaps.

The finer details of what you recorded in that diary escape you, but you know you frequently wrote about your conversations, encoding but not entirely skipping over references to his business. It was stupid, of course, but the diary was intended for your eyes only, an exercise in self-reflection. The same Takashi who told you he was coming into an unexpected windfall of money at work. The same Takashi who had ripped your bedroom apart, supposedly looking for signs of your infidelity. The same Takashi who had demanded details about your patients. If that same Takashi had read your diary months ago he would have known about the HKJ deal, about Haitani soliciting you, about far too much.

“You weren’t reading my diary because you were jealous. You were paid to spy on me, weren’t you?”

And you know just who paid him as well. Based of your three interactions, you should have predicted that Haitani is not a man who accepts defeat easily. He is like a river. When he can’t force his way through an obstacle, he finds a way around.

“I did what you should have done in the first place,” Takashi sneers.

It is not defensiveness, at least not as far as you can tell, that spurs Takashi to confess. In his mind, you’ve already been reduced to something subhuman, a creature undeserving of consideration let alone sympathy, someone he could justify the worst abuses against, so convinced of his own righteousness. But whatever grievance Takashi may imagine against you, nothing can compare to what Takashi cost you. If he hadn’t betrayed you to Ran, then last night…Hanma…

You think you could gouge Takashi’s eyes out and he still wouldn’t understand the hurt he caused you. Minutes prior, you felt completely extinguished, like your flames had been put out forever, but now a pilot light flickers and it’s enough to bring forth an inferno, a heat you didn’t dare hope you would ever feel again.

“How dare you! You want to lecture me about getting into bed with the yakuza when you’re climbing into the bank with one! What if you had gotten someone hurt or killed? Did you even think about what would happen to me? You’re a slimy, despicable, cowardly –”

Shouting over you as you continue to levy every imaginable invective against him, Takashi spits, “Like you’re some paragon of virtue. Were you thinking about your patients when you started screwing them? Or did you not give a fuck who you hurt? Last time I checked, they don’t let yakuza whores keep their licenses. Speaking of which, you should know I’ve already sent these videos to the Japanese Psychological Association. You can look forward to a call from the ethics board.”

The bomb drop has the desired effect. It collapses the floor beneath your feet, gobbles up the words in your mouth, and implodes the tiny sliver of security that you still clung to. A life gone in a moment.

You are going to lose your license.

No job.

No home.

No friends.

No boyfriend.

No security.

Nothing.

The last box of your things and the vase of flowers are shoved into your hands. They feel weightless in your arms. On autopilot, you accept them and Takashi’s pushing hands on your back as he shepherds you towards the door.

This is the last time you will see this apartment that you called home for so long: the warped wood that’s risen under the heat of the window, the lightbulb in the kitchen that flicks if your run the dishwasher at the same time, the dent no bigger than a thumbprint, or more accurately, a door handle in the wall from where the front door slammed into it with too much force.

You want to press pause, to slow down the moment. You would take a final photo if you could, breathe in the smell of this place and bottle it for a future date. Anything to linger for one second longer before you are cast out into the unforgiving cold.

Takashi does not take mercy on you.

“You should be thankful you don’t have a family to shame,” he hisses.

And then the door slams shut. With you on one side and your life on the other.

Everything you once were is gone forever.

On second look, there are fewer than a dozen boxes stacked in the hall. Such a small life. You thoughtlessly heft a small, light-seeming box onto the bundle already in your arms. Dazedly, you stumble past the rest, leaving them behind with no plan for when or who will come to collect them, and even less of an idea of where you’ll send them.

There is no hurry. Nowhere to go. Yet, you too quickly find yourself pressing through the revolving doors that lead out onto the street and the blinding midday sun, which fittingly leeches the color from the world, so that everything’s cast in long shadows. On instinct, you raise a hand to shield your eyes, dropping the little you own to shatter on the sidewalk. A pitiful relief wells in you as you drop to your knees to retrieve your belongings; it is something to do.

Since Takashi cratered the foundations on which your entire existence rested, the normally persistent voice in your head – the one that would caution you against calling a taxi when a subway ticket cost less than 200 yen or would push you to stay that extra hour in university, the one that essentially kept you alive – has been traitorously silent, and so you know that you ought to figure out a place to stay for the night, to calculate how long your savings will last, and brainstorm a strategy to fight the ethics board, but you can’t keep any one thought in your head long enough to develop something concrete. Each stirring of a thought drips through the cracks between your fingers, like trying to collect water in the cup of your palm. You can’t make a plan. What you can do is kneel on the dirty sidewalk and clean up your mess.

First, you right the little box you scooped up from the hallway. Peeking inside, you see it’s mostly filled with socks and underwear. The second box that Takashi forced into your hands is less useful. Inside are shattered picture frames, the photos inside detailing the lives you shared or, at least, lived in parallel. You can’t tell if they cracked in the fall or if Takashi ritualistically broke each as a parting gift. Even less useful somehow is the vase of fake flowers Hanma gave you, now lying scattered, a collection of jagged ceramic shards.

You herd the broken pieces into a little pile, careful as you do to avoid slicing your fingertips against the sharp edges. As you delicately lift one piece, you feel out something small and round affixed to the inside. With an emotion milder than curiosity, you peel the coin-like anomaly off. Holding it to the light, you puzzle at what looks like a microchip.

And then, all you can do is laugh, as your memory offers up an old spy movie where you saw a device just like this, hidden in a flower vase. It’s a bug.

Of course, he bugged your apartment. Even a gesture as simple as gifting you flowers in apology is warped, twisted into something malicious with Hanma. He’s been laying the foundation for your downfall for months now. Just waiting to crumble you to dust in his hands.

A familiar car pulls up to the curb where you sit, laughing maniacally to yourself. You laugh harder when you spot it. Perfect fucking timing.

The window rolls down, and for one terrible second, you lock eyes with Shuji. Terrible, venomous eyes, the gaze of a viper, hidden away behind glass lenses as if without that layer of protection, he might penetrate you to your core. No, not a viper, a basilisk.

The way he’s dressed, hair perfectly coiffed and in the tailored suit that is his work uniform, offends your sensibilities. From his height advantage, he peers down at you like a scientist watching a bug through a microscope. You feel as small as a mite.

“You can spend the night at my place,” Hanma says, without so much as a greeting because he need not dignify you with niceties. A person needn’t spare a termite a hello before stepping on it.

A plane flies overhead, so low it tricks the eye for a moment, makes you think it’ll crash into the skyscrapers dotting the cityscape. You follow it with your eyes until it’s long out of sight, retracing the chemtrail it leaves in its wake. You almost forget Hanma is here, watching.

Pressed through a sigh, Hanma says your name. His voice, toneless and impossibly deep strikes you like a whip, a thousand times worse than seeing him. It is the charge you need to act.

Bursting to your feet, you leave all but your box of underwear and march determinedly in the other direction. Adrenaline courses through your veins, a jittery but appreciated focuser, and for the first time, you are able to think outside your fugue state. You will find a hotel for the night, something cheap that pays by the hour. If you walk for five minutes, you’re sure to find something.

Anything is better than Hanma’s offer.

“Get in the car.”

You ignore Hanma’s first call and his second, pretending his voice doesn’t make your hands shake so hard you fear you’ll drop the box. The Bentley keeps pace with you to the right. At the first intersection, a redlight stops the Bentley dead.

“For fuck’s sake!”

The curse is a warning before Hanma charges out of the car, arms extended as if to grab you and drag you into the cavern of his Bentley. The dark interior beckons ominously, hinting at a cacophony of horrors. To go into that car is to die.

His fingers don’t so much as graze yours before you start to scream.

Hoarse, guttural screams that turn the necks of every passerby in the area emerge from your bruised throat, a scream that must be tearing your throat apart, but you can’t feel the pain through the adrenaline rush. Heads pop out of nearby shops to see who is making such a ruckus and why. Amid the animal shrieks, the occasional curse takes place, a well-timed “motherfucker” or “waste of space.” To anyone watching, you appear unhinged. A lifetime of pain and rage unleash in one concentrated exhale of agony. If you could bottle the force behind your bellows, they would blow a hole through Hanma’s brain and vaporize what’s left. You scream in his face like you hope to erase him from existence like he did you.

Time holds no meaning now, and you think you might black out or suffer a psychotic break that blacks over just what you say or do in those precious moments of freedom. Whether Hanma is appalled by your behavior, if it makes him want to hurt, fuck, or kill you is irrelevant. Blissfully blank, you become the beast Takashi thinks you are and growl and rage and bare your teeth.

Stunned into stillness by the spectacle, Hanma’s gaze darts between you and the spectators who could intervene, but as no one steps forward to help the crazy woman having a breakdown, Hanma loses his patience.

He slaps a hand over your mouth, muffling your hysterical shrieking. His body is so much larger than yours, something you once craved, but now it crowds and bullies you toward the parked door, where the wide-open passenger door signals your doom. You go silent. You transfer every bit of energy from your throat to your body. Biting and bucking, you fight him with every ounce of strength you possess.

No amount of thrashing could overpower Hanma at full-strength, but he treats you gently with none of last night’s brutality. Kid gloves try to handle you with care as if he would never think to harm you, no not you, his precious, beloved pet. How could you even think such a thing? Unwilling to hurt you, Hanma grapples against your flailing arms for a full minute before backing off, hands tugging at his hair in frustration. He is panting though not half so hard as you are.

“Would you fucking stop!” Hanma snaps. “You should be grateful for what I did. You should –”

Whatever lovely suggestion would have topped off that sentence, you don’t wait to hear, lashing out with a closed fist before he can finish.

You aim for his cheek, but Hanma sees the blow coming, so your fist glances off his neck.

The next punch is somehow more pitiful. Powered by your righteous indignation, you throw your full-body weight behind it, but Hanma bats you aside, so that your shoulder collides into his chest and the punch dies out against the air. Hanma folds the leftover arm behind your body and pins you to his chest, so that all the bucking in the world won’t be enough to break free. He is a titanium wall of muscle and violence, and he has you in his grasp. You think you might vomit.

All the energy in your body evaporates, and you slump into his embrace.

“Finally,” Hanma mutters but without frustration. There is a hint of satisfaction there. A hint of humor at your suffering.

“Let me go,” you whisper.

“Will you behave like a good girl if I do?”

“Let me go.”

Hanma sighs, “Oh, Doc, come on. All this carrying on over limp-dick Takashi? He’s not worth it.”

“Didn’t you hear? While you were eavesdropping, didn’t you hear?” you chuckle a little, a sound strange enough that Hanma eases up on his grip, enough so that he can peer down at your face. You are both equally surprised to discover that you are crying, little matte tears slipping down your cheeks. “I didn’t just lose my boyfriend and my apartment. Oh no! I’m also going to lose my fucking license!”

“What? Why would you lose your license?” Hanma visibly startles, and on any other day, you might have enjoyed one-upping him, but not today. And never again.

“Is this what you wanted from the beginning? To lay me completely low? Did you think that when I was broke and starving, I’d have no choice but to rely on your limited generosity? To let you play with me until you get bored? Because I have nothing left to give, Hanma. I’m not even a human being anymore. I’m nothing.”

“Listen, Doc, relax. This is a panic attack. I’ll take care of Takashi and whatever he did. I’ll make it go away. You just come home with me, and I’ll take care of you and –”

“I may be nothing, but I’d rather be nothing than be with you,” you spit in his face.

His hands slacken for a moment, and you use that moment of weakness to break free.

Once more, Hanma’s hand reaches out as if to grab you, but you turn to him and with every bit of solemnity in your soul, so that the words read with all the gravity of a blood oath, you swear, “If you force me to go anywhere with you, I swear I will find a way to kill myself.”

The fingers on Hanma’s hand flex. The veins pop and strain like his body is rebelling against him, urging him to clutch, grab, cage. But then that hand falls to his side, stills.

This time, when you walk away, he doesn’t follow.

#hanma shuji #hanma x reader #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #hanma smut #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyo revengers x reader

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hopleii · 9 months

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what I think karasuno's love language is. . .

content: karasuno x gn!reader (seperate), fluff, not proofread, idk what else

a/n: first time writing for these many characters so excuse the trashy writing kwjaudhwfe

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

men who thrive on verbal expressions of affection and loves giving it back! he finds joy and fulfillment in using his words to uplift and appreciate his partner. for him, giving sincere compliments, and positive and reassuring words is his way of showing his love and affection! frequently expresses his affection verbally, often saying "I love you" and reminding his partner of the love they share <33

sugawara, nishinoya, daichi, hinata, yamaguchi, kinoshita, tanaka

ACTS OF SERVICE

men who live by the quote "actions speak louder than words" and puts in effort to make his partner's life more comfortable and easier. whether it's cooking a meal, running errands for you, or helping you in any possible way he could, it's him saying "I love you"! even if it's a small gesture such as leaving thoughtful notes or doing a small task for you, his intentions are pure and he just wants to show how much he cares about you and cherishes you <33

asahi, daichi, kageyama, tsukishima, ennoshita, sugawara, narita

GIFT GIVING

men who love giving you gifts, it doesn't matter if it's expensive or not as long as it reminds him of you he's buying it and shoving it in your face! he often buys things that he thinks you'd like or things that would help you in your everyday life! he is attentive to your wishes and desires, often taking note of hints dropped in conversations to surprise you with something you wanted. <33

tanaka, nishinoya, yamaguchi, asahi, daichi, kinoshita, hinata, tsukishima (controversial but !!!)

QUALITY TIME

men who would spend all eternity with you as long as it makes you happy, it doesn't matter what time of day or night, he wants to be with you! he loves your company, just being with you and basking in silence is enough to send butterflies to his stomach. whether it's a hobby, watching a movie, cooking, or exploring new places he's happy just being with you! he craves deep and meaningful conversations that allow him to share his and your thoughts, emotions, and dreams. <33

tsukishima, daichi, hinata, yamaguchi, asahi, sugawara

PHYSICAL TOUCH

men who find feelings of comfort by touching you, holding you, anything. he'd always crave your touch and loves holding your hand, making comforting and affectionate motions on your palm with his thumb, thrives on physical contact, often seeking hugs, cuddles, and close embraces to feel connected with you! also kisses, whether they're sweet pecks or passionate kisses, they hold deep significance for him as expressions of love! <33

hinata, sugawara, ennoshita, tanaka, nishinoya, asahi

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degyash · 9 months

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Ukai Keishin x Daichi’s Sister! reader

Reader is 23 (3 years younger than Ukai)

Tw?: Pregnancy, one night stands

I sat in my car at the gates of Karasuno. My brother has volleyball practice until like 20:00. Who actually has so much energy they’d be able to play sports for hours. Daichi already knows I’m picking him up after practice. I needed to talk to him about something really important. I stepped out of my car and leaned on the door.

“Y/n?” My brother said.

“Jesus fucking Christ you centipede.” I jumped. I looked to my left to see my brother and his teammates. “Can you please stop calling me that.” He rolls his eyes. “Anyways the team wanted to meet you and do you think you’d be able to bring Suga and Asahi home, too?” He asked.

I blinked at his teammates. Three of them were looking at me starry eyed, while two of the looked annoyed, a green haired boy looked kinda shy, and threw others that looked done with the starry eyed ones. “Yeah of course! I love those kids.” I said smiling. Suga and Asahi chuckled.

“Oh. Nee-san, these are the second years: Ennoshita, Tanaka, Nishinoya, Kinoshita, and Narita.” My brother pointed to each one of the boys as he said their names. “These are the first years: Hinata, Yamaguchi, Kageyama, and Tsukishima.” He says pointing the the first years.

“It’s nice to meet you all. I’m Sawamura Y/n, Daichi’s older sister.” I say.

“It’s nice to meet you too!!!” Tanaka said.

“Daichi we need to go I still have to talk to you about something.” I said looking at the time on my phone.

“Ok see ya guys.” He said and walked over to my car, Suga and Asahi following him.

Once everyone was in the car I started it and started driving. “Where to first.” I asked.

“My house first.” Asahi said. “Ok.” I responded.

“So what’s so important, Y/n?” My brother asked. “Well it’s kind of personal but I don’t really mind Asahi and Suga knowing.” Daichi nodded as I was talking. “Well a couple months ago I hooked up with this guy. We were both drunk and I don’t know. He woke up at my apartment.” I said.

“Wow, ok. Is that all?” Daichi asked.

“I’m also pregnant and I don’t know how to tell him.” I said turning on Asahi’s street. Suga choked on something and Asahi looked like he saw a ghost.

“Um. So you hooked up with a guy, and now you’re pregnant and that baby is the product of a one night stand.. are you keeping it?” He asked.

“Probably. It’s my kid.” I slowed down in front of Asahi’s house.

“Um see ya guys. Thank you Y/n-San.” Asahi said. “No problem.” I said. After Asahi got inside we started off to Suga’s.

“Do you know the name of the guy you hooked up with?” Suga asked picking up his waterbottle.

“Yeah it’s Ukai Keishin.” I answered. Suga choked on his water. “What?!” Daichi looked at me.

“What??” I said confused. “That’s our coach.” Sugawara said.

“It’s a small world.” I said stopping at a red light.

“No no. Y/n, you’re pregnant with my coach’s kid.” Daichi said. The light turned green and I kept going.

“Yes, I know.” I said. “Oh my god.” He said brushing his hand in his hair. “How do I tell him?” I asked.

“I think you should be straightforward with it.” Suga chimed in. “That’s exactly what you’re going to do, and you are doing it right now.” Daichi said. “No I’m not, the fuck?” I say.

“Yes you are. I’ll tell you the way to his store.” My brother says.

Time skip.

I opened to door to Ukai’s store. “Hi welcome to-. Hey it’s you.” Ukai said.

“Yep it’s me.” I say awkwardly. “What’s wrong? You good?” He asks me.

“So I kinda found out something you might want to know.” I said and pulled out the tests from my purse. I put the tests on the counter and he looked at them. And then at me. And then back at the tests.

“What are these?” He asks picking one up.

“They are pregnancy tests. Positive pregnancy tests. I’m pregnant with your baby.” He looks up at me. “Are you sure this isn’t a joke?” He puts down the test.

“I wouldn’t joke about something like this.” I said tears starting to form. My pregnancy has made you cry super easily so far.

“Hey, wait don’t cry.” He stands up and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Are you going to keep it?”

“Yeah.” A tear slipped down my cheek.

“Then I’ll be here for you every step of the way.” He said and hugs me. “I know we’re not together and we didn’t plan this at all but I’ll be here for you the best I can. I promise.” He said rubbing my back.

“There’s something else you should know.” I broke the hug. He looked down at me.

“I’m Sawamura Daichi’s older sister.” I say. “Oh dear god I’m in so much trouble. Please tell him not to kill me.” He says and you laugh.

“Here is my number. You’ll probably need it since we’re gonna have a kid and stuff.” I say writing down my number. Ukai chuckles and says ok.

“See ya Ukai.” I say as I start walking out of the store.

“Call me Keishin. And see ya Y/n.” He waves too and I walk out.

Ahhhhhh omgg should I make another part?????

#fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu x self insert #ukai x reader #hq ukai #haikyuu ukai #ukai keishin #hq daichi #haikyuu daichi #sugawara koushi #daichi sawamura #haikyuu sugawara #asahi azumane #haikyuu asahi #haikyuu x reader #pregnacy #pregnant reader

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sweetbottletops · 1 month

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The Guy She Was Interested In Wasn't a Guy at All (Ki ni Natteru Hito ga Otoko Janakatta) Drama CD cast interview (more pictures) after they completed the project. Horrible MTL below...

Mitsuki Koga: Mariya Ise Aya Oosawa: Akari Kitō Joe: Kenjiro Tsuda Narita: Tasuku Hatanaka

Ise (Mitsuki): Actually, on X (formerly Twitter), I was secretly looking forward to reading this manga drawn by Arai. A handsome aura that overflows without Koga's awareness...I was excited as well as there. (Laughter).

No way I will be able to play Koga-san I am grateful!! There's nothing happier than being able to play a character you love. I was allowed to play Koga-san politely and carefully!

Kitō (Aya): It was a large volume of drama CD recording, but I was able to play freely and it was very fun! I was happy to be involved in this work that I had originally read, and I thought again that this work, in which music is greatly involved, is a title that I am very excited to be shaped as a drama CD!

Tsuda (Uncle Joe): It was able to record in a good atmosphere. The comedy part, the serious part, each had tension and relaxation in the air, and it was a fun time.

Hatanaka (Narita): When I participated in this work, of course, I read manga, but I felt that I was really happy that I was able to participate in the drama CD of such a work because I was filled with the wonderfulness, suffering, and regret of liking someone. 　

――Please tell us the impression of the character you played.

Ise: I like the fact that I value the honesty of Koga's favorite things and what I want to do. I also want to live with such a part carefully, so I felt sympathy on my own. It is also wonderful to care for the person in front of you. I think that Koga's coolness is such a way of thinking and behavior. You can see why people around you are supported and loved.

Kitō: It looks like a yang person, a gal, who is the upper class of the school caste, but in fact it is a frowning Western music otaku, and a CD shop Onii-san(?) I thought that it was a child with various faces that there was a cute side that was in love with him. At first I was worried about where to make a role based, but I thought that it was an ordinary girl and tried to play it.

Tsuda: A nice uncle who is active and gentle while making a rock sharp. It is saved that there are such adults who are close to young people. I played it consciously so that I could put out a large vessel that wraps up with the spatula and the light part. He's a nice character.

Hatanaka: Narita-kun, it was very easy to perform. When I was a student, I did not feel that I was used to women to that extent, but is it the lightness of footwork, something like that, there was something that passed, and there was a feeling that I could quickly enter even if I tried to play it with care…! It was so much fun to play! 　

――Ise had a singing part of "Creep" this time. If you have any feelings of singing, points you want to pay attention to and listen to, please tell me.

Ise: It was a test (laughs). The difficulty level was too high. I really wanted to run away (Laughter). But for the work, I decided to be prepared that I had to do my best. Please listen with warm ears…. 　

―― Please give a message to all of your fans.

Ise: I am close to or excited about Koga-san, which is the image of all readers, but I also played Koga-san, which I imagined, carefully and wholeheartedly because I was a reader and a fan for many years. Please, DramaCD 『気になってる人が男じゃなかった』 also like and enjoy! Thank you very much!

Kitō: 『気になってる人が男じゃなかった』 I was originally a fan reading this work, but it is a very popular work with many people who love reading it even around me, so I think that there are many people who are looking forward to this drama CD! This work that is loved by many people is enjoyed as a voice, and I will be very happy if you love me!

Tsuda: It is a wonderful work where laughter and cuteness are tightly tied and young. I think that people who like rock can enjoy it because there are many legendary rocker songs, and I think that those who do not know rock can enjoy refreshing youth drama.

Hatanaka: It was such a work that makes me think that it is really nice to read and fall in love with people. I hope it becomes a drama CD filled with its goodness! By all means, I hope you can enjoy the original together many times! Thank you very much!!!

――cast everyone, thank you!

[x]

#they had her sing radiohead #the guy she was interested in wasn't a guy at all #arai sumiko #green manga #manga #yuri #drama cd #audio drama #Mariya Ise #Akari Kitō #Kenjiro Tsuda #Tasuku Hatanaka #Ki ni Natteru Hito ga Otoko Janakatta

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priniya · 1 year

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SENTIMENTAL !

no one expectes to meet a girl claiming, she’s a girlfriend of infamous setter from karasuno, a bag full of containers with cinnamon rolls, and strawberries.

notes: kageyama tobio x reader. second year!kageyama, baker!reader. teeth rotting fluff. word count: 0.8k

taglist! reply or send an ask to be added to general or haikyuu taglist 🫶

“what?” a bald boy inquired, his eyes scanning your posture with a terrifying smirk on his face. he leaned his back onto the doorframe, letting out a chuckle. “kageyama, someone who claims to be your girlfriend is here!”

you knitted your eyebrows together upon hearing his laughter, gripping the bag’s handle tighter, waiting for the dark-haired boy to show up at the entrance to the gymnasium. you’ve spent the entire of last night trying to master your recipe of cinammon rolls, so you could give them later to tobio as a small gift.

you two were still in that phase of your relationship, when you both needed the reassurance, as if it seemed impossible for any of you to have a significant other. and to be honest — you loved showering your boyfriend with little presents, that — you truly wished — would look at them later, in his twenties maybe, and remember you well.

you wished you could capture the moment, when he noticed you standing outside, a spark lit up in his eyes as you placed a peck on his cheeks, before it tinted pinkish. “y/n- hey, what you’re doing here? i thought you had the club meeting.” you beamed at the sound of your name in his mouth, shrugging prior.

“it was rescheduled, you know.” you tilted your head to the side, feeling how fluffy your knees are getting with each second he looked at you so intensely. “and you said you forgot your lunch, so i brought you something i wanted to give you later.” you handed him the bag.

“cinnamon rolls?” he looked down, biting back a smile prior to averting his gaze to you, heart fireworks blew up in his eyes. “gosh, i love you. thank you so much.” before you could react to the confession, he kissed you, — which you didn’t expect at all, since his teammates were around — placing a hand on the back of your neck.

“l/n-san!” a certain redhead called out from the depths of the hall. “you should definitely go out with us after the practice! we were supposed to get some rice cakes and onigiris at ukai’s.” hinata jumped right next to you, making your boyfriend pull away awkwardly.

“i’ll agree with the shrimp, there should be at least three intelligents there or we all get mad.” a boy from your homeroom spoke out, taking a place next to the bald guy. “you should come with us, really.” tadashi, another boy from your class, chimed in.

“i mean, i don’t wanna interrupt—” you began, looking at the dark-haired boy. “it’s okay baby, you should go, if you want and have enough time, of course.” he muttered so quietly, you were the only one able to hear him, at least you thought so.

he got so incredibly handsome over the year that keeping your eyes off him was even harder than at the beginning. his hair a little longer than usual, with his amazing hairstyling skills (you had to teach him how to style his hair properly), the smile he would always send you, whenever you caught eye contact, got even more… ethereal.

before you could even realize, you ended up at your house (since it was the closest to ukai’s store), watching horror on the couch. tobio’s hands clutching you in a hug, nishinoya, and tanaka hugging each other eagerly, hinata sat on the carpet, laughing out loud whenever yamaguchi, narita and kinoshita flinched. the others just simply laughed along with shoyo.

“you should try some of the pastries and cinnamon rolls i’ve made for tobi.” you smiled, looking at the boys who reciprocated your smile. “they’re delicious.” tobio commented, making himself comfortable on the couch. “shut up, they’re decent, not poisoned or anything, but decent.”

“you guys shouldn’t really listen to her, mrs. l/n has a bakery, and she thinks that her baking isn’t as good as her mom’s.” he tilted his head to the side, sending you the most precious smile you’ve ever seen.

you loved how confident he grew to be, you adored his outgoing self, how openly he acted around his close friends. you like to believe you were one of the main reasons for his change, since you really liked to drag him with you to some family events, knowing god damn well that there would be lots of people your age.

“your mom has a bakery? we have to go there sometime!” hinata exclaimed happily, turning his head towards you prior to snatching a warm cinammon roll from the plate.

“god, l/n.” tsukishima looked at you, his eyes growing wider. “they are delicious.”

when the movie marathon finally came to an end, you plopped on the seat closest to your boyfriend, who immediately showered you with kisses. “gosh, you don’t even know how much i love you, y/n/n.”

#haikyuu fic #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu one shot #hq x reader #hq kageyama #kageyama fic #kageyama fluff #kageyama oneshot #kageyama x reader #haikyuu x imagines #tobio kageyama x reader #haikyuu!!#kageyama imagine #haikyuu #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama tobio fic #niki’s works 🫂

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chahnniesroom · 8 months

Text

tenderness | chapter 7: go ahead

[noun] /ˈtendərnəs/

1. the quality of being gentle, kind, or loving

2. the feeling of pain, aching, or soreness

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: in a world where soulmates are rare and precious, you don’t know why the universe has decided to give you one. you never could have imagined that they would be an idol, and one that you worked with at that, or the challenges that would arise from your bond.

chapter word count: 5.8k

chapter warnings: injury, mentions of nausea/gagging, jealousy

a/n: i am not a doctor and i did minimal research on anything medical related

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter | read it on ao3

You arrive at the airport almost an hour before the members are supposed to show up and help to offload some of the luggage that wasn’t shipped directly to the arena. There’s already a crowd that buzzes to life when the company vehicles pull up. They quickly settle back down when they see that it’s only staff onboard, but you’re a little spooked by the number of professional looking cameras that had been pointed in your direction.

When the members show up, they pile out of the vans and line up to greet the crowd, before heading towards the security check-in.

You’re impressed by how immune they are to the bright flashes, screams of their names, and having so many phones shoved in their faces. You follow at a sedated pace, not wanting to be captured in the pictures and videos, and wince a couple times when the security team has to step in and push away fans who have gotten a bit too close for comfort.

“Is it always like this?” you ask Eunsung in a low voice.

“Pretty much, I think today there are more people than usual.” He shrugs. “You’ll get used to it after a few more times. Probably when we’re in the United States then it won’t be the same, less fans but more people overall.”

You stare at the back of Chan’s head, covered both by a beanie and his hoodie, and try to imagine feeling as unbothered by the mass of bodies and cameras as he appears.

—

The flight to Japan is relatively unremarkable, it’s just over 2 hours which is enough for you to fall asleep, but not long enough to actually get some rest. Thankfully, Narita Airport isn’t as crowded with fans as Incheon Airport. There’s still a large group waiting at the arrival terminal, but you’re not as concerned as before.

As much as you’d love to explore the city a bit, you’ve arrived so late in the evening that there’s no time to do anything but check in at the hotel and grab a quick dinner with your team before you have to head back. You’re tired enough that you don’t really mind, intent on saving up energy to enjoy yourself for these next shows.

Luckily, tomorrow isn’t a concert day, there’s a day of buffer before Friday, the first of the three concerts in Tokyo. There are more Japanese concerts, but they’re much later on and some of them haven’t even been announced to fans yet.

You spend the first day helping get the venue set up for the concert. It takes surprisingly long to unpack anything, and you’re exhausted by the time you’re in a car on the way back to the hotel.

When you unlock the door, Chan and Hyunjin both turn to stare, looking like deer in headlights. They’re clearly recording something, Hyunjin has headphones on and is carrying a portable microphone. You back away without saying a word, and close the door quietly behind you.

You text Chan a quick apology for interrupting, then message Felix, asking if he’s busy. When all he does is send you his room number and a million exclamation marks in response, you make your way down the hallway. The boys have individual rooms, but they’re all clustered together on the same floor so it doesn’t take long before you’re standing in front of his door. You take a moment to compose yourself. You’ve been trying so hard to not bother Chan, but it seems like no matter what, you’ve found a way to be a nuisance.

You end up spending the rest of the evening sprawled over Felix’s bed as he, Han, and Minho eat their way through a variety of Japanese convenience store snacks. You try a few of them, but after a couple with strange flavours that none of you can manage to swallow, play it safe by slowly emptying a packet of fruit jellies.

—

Surprisingly, the first concert goes smoother than any of the Seoul dates. The Japanese staff are extremely helpful and organised, although you’re not even close to fluent in speaking Japanese.

As you’re waffling between staying up to see when Chan comes back and just going to sleep without him, your phone lights up with an incoming text.

[12:24 am - received]

Sorry, lost track of time and forgot to let you know but I’m recording something with Sungie rn

I’ll try to be back soon, but don’t wait up

Sorry

At this point, you’re not surprised, just disappointed. You had heard that the members got more free time while touring and had stupidly gotten your hopes up that it would mean Chan would take some of that time to get proper rest. You keep telling yourself that you should trust him and that he’ll actually take care of himself if he needs to, but it doesn’t stop you from worrying about his health. You know that if you’re feeling effects from not spending enough time with him, then he must be too and that scares you more than you think it should.

—

It’s almost like the day before went too well, because bad luck strikes in no time. A few of the managers and coordis have come down with something by the afternoon of the second concert, leaving the team dangerously short staffed. There isn't enough time to get any replacements, the only option is to divy up the responsibilities as evenly as possible.

Shortly before the start of the concert, you’re tasked with distributing the baskets of water bottles and hand towels around the edges of the stage for the boys to use as they perform. It’s nerve-wracking to peek out at the audience, you can hear their chatter from where you stand on the sidelines. Doors have already opened and many Stays are already seated, eagerly awaiting the show. You’re grateful for the mask that you had decided to put on at the last second as there are multiple people who look up as you walk on stage, a few of them even cheer as you set the little basket down near their section. You just bow to them and then quickly make your way off, sighing in relief when you are finally out of sight. You have no idea how Chan or any of the members could handle being in the spotlight with so many eyes on them.

By the end of the evening, you’re so drained from running around backstage and hauling various equipment, outfits, and accessories around. You get a couple of concerned looks from a few of the staff when a bout of dizziness forces you to put a hand on the wall for support. You wave them off and laugh, but are forced to take a minute to wait for the vertigo to recede.

Luckily, you can hear the strains of the encore music starting and know that it’s an okay time to take a short break. You make your way to the staff room without a problem and pick over the leftover food. It’s only when you start eating that you realise just how hungry you are.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Yonghwan walks in just as you take another bite and your cheeks flush as you have to chew quickly to swallow the food.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I didn’t have a chance to have a break for dinner until now.”

“Oh,” he falters. “I’m really sorry to ask, but do you know when you’ll be finished? We’re getting everyone ready to clean up.”

You wipe your mouth and stand up to throw away the remains of the bento box that you were eating, there isn’t much left in it anyway. The sudden movement is enough to leave you light-headed for a second, but you catch yourself with a hand on the table beside you and recover almost right away.

“I’m done!” you say brightly, relieved to see that Yonghwan is typing something on his phone and hadn’t noticed your brief lack of balance. “We can go now.”

—

Your late meal seemed to have done the trick, giving you enough energy to help out after the show without any problems.

On the ride back to the hotel, you fish out your phone to find a few unread messages from Chan, first letting you know that he was doing a live in Minho’s room, then heading to the gym with some of the guys. You’re oddly touched that he kept you updated and also how he’s been going out of his way to leave your shared room available for you to use since that first night, even if it’s more inconvenient.

The room is still empty when you make it back, but Chan returns when you’re halfway through your nighttime routine. You pop your head out of the bathroom to greet him and hurry through the last few steps of your skincare, but by the time you’re finished, he’s already situated himself at the desk, hunched over his laptop with a pair of headphones on. As the days in Japan have passed, he’s unearthed more and more equipment from his luggage and it’s all spread on a couple tables in your hotel room.

You bite back a sigh at the familiar sight and skirt around him to climb into bed. It’s close to 1 in the morning and you’re exhausted. The long hours you’ve been doing combined with the amount of running around required for each concert means that you’re sure you’ll pass out the second that your head hits the pillow. Already your arms and legs ache from the extra physical work that you had to do and you’re sure that you’ll be extremely sore tomorrow.

You know you’ve been running low on Charge, that it's one of the reasons why you’ve felt so worn out these days, but at the same time, you don’t want to interrupt Chan. You’re trying to respect his boundaries and honestly, you’re a bit wary of what his reaction could be if you asked him to stop for the day. Sure, he hasn’t snapped at you or raised his voice at all since that night in his studio, but you’re still hesitant to broach the subject.

The light is still on, but there’s the rhythmic sounds of Chan working and the hum of an air conditioner that are making your eyes heavier and heavier. You give in, putting your phone onto the side table and nestle into the blankets.

Suddenly your alarm is chirping in your ear. You turn it off immediately, not wanting to disturb Chan, then sit up blearily, not sure how it’s already morning.

You’re still so tired.

It feels like you haven't rested at all, even though Chan’s arm is still slung around your waist and your legs are touching. You rub the grit from your eyes and give yourself another second before getting up. Your vision whites out briefly and your muscles protest when you finally stand. When you stumble into the bathroom, you splash your face with cold water, hoping that it’ll help shock you awake.

You’re reminded of when you were a teenager and forced to pull long hours to study for the CSAT. At that time, your brother had already graduated and was well on his way to becoming a doctor. While you were proud of your brother, his successes had always increased the expectations on you. He had excelled in science and your parents had been thrilled that he was following in your abeoji’s footsteps. On the other hand, you had set your sights on majoring in business, a degree that was more manageable, but still fairly well respected.

That didn’t make things any easier, though. Throughout your schooling, your eomoni had always strictly monitored your grades and social life. She kept close tabs on your attendance at cram school, organised sessions with private tutors, and was liberal with her scoldings whenever you weren’t within the top students in your class. The pressure had been unbearable and the only thing that had gotten you through was the knowledge that making it into a good university would get you out of your family home.

You don’t know if it’s the time that has passed since then or some sort of influence from the soulmate bond, but you’ve never experienced such strong physical impacts from lack of sleep. Maybe life after university has spoiled you a bit too much. Prior to your switch to managing Stray Kids, you had gotten used to at least 6 or 7 hours of sleep each night, a far cry from when you were studying and lucky to get 5 hours.

You had been a little bit miserable all the time, but looking back, it had been a valuable experience. You had learned a lot about time management, prioritisation, and most importantly, how to ensure sleep deprivation didn’t affect your performance.

—

Unfortunately, there’s no miracle that occurred overnight, and when you get to the concert venue in the morning, there’s still a significant number of staff who are unwell. It’s less than ideal, but at least the day before proved that the team will at least be able to survive the night.

You end up trailing behind Eunsung, tasked with retrieving cases that contain backup microphones that were somehow lost when everything was put away after yesterday’s concert. This area backstage is poorly lit and crammed with boxes and equipment that’s all shoved to one side so that there’s just barely enough space to have a walkway. It’s not a surprise that the microphones weren’t found earlier.

The case that you’re holding is heavy, and you have to lean to one side so that your body weight can aid in keeping you balanced. Ahead of you, Eunsung is easily carrying one in each hand, while your arms are starting to tremble from exertion.

You’re suddenly overcome by another wave of dizziness, something you’re getting better at anticipating. You slow down to take a break and steady yourself, but the case that you’re holding clips the edge of some scaffolding at the same time that your foot doesn’t quite clear a bump in the ground where a bundle of cabling has been taped down. The microphones are dropped with a thud, you lurch to the side and close your eyes, bracing for impact.

You don’t even feel yourself hit the ground.

The next thing you know, you’re blinking back stars, shrinking away from a light that’s shining directly in your eyes, but a hand cradling the back of your head prevents you from moving too far.

“What?” you try to say, but your voice comes out sounding warped. Your head is pounding and feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton. The light turns off and you sigh in relief, it reduces the pain to a dull throbbing that seems to be in time with your heartbeat. Your vision is blurred and you can barely make out the face of the person that’s holding onto you. “Eunsung.”

“Oh good, you can recognise me. Do you remember your name?”

“Y/n.”

“Good. And do you remember where we are?”

“Concert,” you say. That part is easy, the music is so loud that you can feel the vibrations of the bass from where you’re lying on the ground. Even from here, there’s faint cheering that you can hear every so often.

“Do you know whose concert?”

“St- Stray… Stray Kids.” It would be embarrassing how long it takes you to recall the name of the group, but your headache makes it hard to think, let alone feel anything other than pain.

“Okay. What country are we in?”

After a moment, you finally remember, “Japan.”

“Perfect. Do you remember what happened?”

“Uhm. I was… tired. I fell.”

“Great. Now are you feeling dizzy? Nauseous?”

“Mmm. Dizzy I think.”

You crack your eyes open and when the room spins around you, immediately retch. When nothing but bile is brought up, you remember that you've hardly eaten anything today. The concert has already passed its halfway point and you don't even recall stopping for a lunch break. The increased pressure from your gagging makes the pain in your head explode and it takes everything in you to keep the nausea at bay. At your side, Eunsung takes exaggerated breaths and you force yourself to follow them, feeling a little bit better once you’re able to breathe properly again.

“Okay. Seems like you might have a concussion, but I'm hopeful that it’s only a mild one. I’m concerned about the fact that you were unconscious, but it was only a few seconds and otherwise you don’t seem that bad. I really want to get you to an actual doctor, but first let’s get you sitting upright and see how you feel then.”

Sometimes you forget that Eunsung has done extensive safety training and doubles as a first aid attendant for the team. Now, it’s obvious. He’s clinical and calm, hands steady as they support your back and neck before lifting you into a sitting position.

Even though he does it slowly, your vision swims and you start to list to the right, away from where Eunsung is crouched beside you. He’s quick to grab your shoulder and tip you back. You keep going until your forehead hits his chest and this time, he doesn’t try to correct you, just wraps his arm around you securely and lets you stay there.

“Y/n, how are you feeling now?”

“Hurts,” you say, turning your face towards Eunsung so that his body blocks out all the light. It had seemed so dim earlier, but now you can barely open your eyes without tears forming. Even that movement makes the ache in your head intensify and you let out a groan.

“Can you be more specific? Does anywhere hurt more?”

“Head.” You lift your hand and fumble, trying to pinpoint where the pain is coming from. Your fingers hit a tender spot and you immediately retract your hand, not wanting to get close to that area again. “Ow, there.”

“Good job. That’s here you hit your head, but it doesn't look like there’s any blood, which is a good sign. I’m going to get you some ice and try to get the swelling done.” At that you clutch at his shirt tightly.

“No no no, don’t go,” you say frantically.

“I- Okay. Are you still nauseous?”

“Uhm.” You take a moment to assess yourself, then confirm. “Not anymore.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going to bring you with me and we’ll get you to a better place to rest. I’m just going to lift you up and I think I saw that there was a room close to here that would be good.” It sounds like he’s talking more to himself than you, and you’re happy to stay quiet. He guides your arms to loop around his head and then gently lifts you, one arm around your back and the other under your knees. “Y/n? Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” you say faintly. “Just go.”

He takes a couple steps before you stop him, tugging at his shoulder.

“Wait! Oppa,” you say urgently.

“What?” he asks, panic leaking into his voice for the first time.

“The microphones. We need to bring them back too.”

“The- Y/n, who cares about the microphones! You just bashed your head against the side of a trunk so hard that you blacked out. You need medical attention right now!”

“But, the show,” you say meekly. “They need the microphones.”

“Yn- Okay,” Eunsung says with a sigh. He can probably tell that you’re not going to budge on this. “We’re going to bring you somewhere safe to rest. I’ll get some ice for your head. Then I’ll ask someone else to bring the microphones.”

“Mm, okay.”

He continues walking and you have to bite your lip hard to stop yourself from making any noise. Although you know he’s trying his best to be gentle, the slight jostling of each step just exacerbates your headache. It’s hard for you to track the time passing, but eventually he eases you onto a couch, reappears with ice, then collects you in his arms again to carry you to a company car.

It’s surprisingly fast getting you to see a medical professional. One of the Japanese staff accompanies you to help translate and the three of you are relieved when the doctor allows you to go home. He goes on for a while, explaining symptoms that you can expect and a recovery plan, but you tune it all out, trusting that Eunsung and the other staff member will keep track of it all. Before you know it, you’re back at the hotel where you force Eunsung to bring you back to his room.

“They said it was just a minor concussion, right?” you ask once you’re settled in bed. You feel remarkably better after having something to eat and drink and being able to spend time not moving. Your stomach has settled now that there’s food in it and your dizziness has subsided almost completely.

“Yes, luckily it’s not too serious. You had me really worried for a moment.”

“I’m sorry. This is really bad timing too. Did they say how long it’ll be until I can work again?”

"Normally, it'd be at least a couple weeks until you feel better, but with the soulmate bond? He said your recovery will go more smoothly. Could be half that, maybe even more depending on how much Charge you get."

"What if- what if I'm not getting enough Charge. It’d still just be two weeks right?” you ask, avoiding Eunsung’s gaze.

“Y/n,” he says warningly.

“I- Things have been busy. We’re both… busy,” you say weakly.

“How much less?”

“My head hurts,” you say instead.

“Y/n-”

“I’m tired. It’s been a long day. I want to sleep.” You turn so that you’re facing the wall. Moving again makes your head throb, although the painkillers that you’ve been prescribed are starting to dull the pain.

Eunsung sighs. “You can rest for now,” he says to your back. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You know you're going to have to move back to your room tonight, but the doctor advised you to have someone monitor your condition for the next while. Based on the past few days, you have no idea when Chan will be back, so it’s easier to just stay with Eunsung. You know how much of a hypocrite it will make you seem to have scolded Chan about resting when it turns out that you've also been neglecting your own health and you're already embarrassed enough. You don't think you can face him right now.

You were telling the truth when you said you were tired, but still sleep doesn't come easy.

—

Coming off stage, Chan feels great. The energy from the crowd, being able to see so many Stays, having a chance to have a lot of fun with the rest of the members, it makes all the long hours and sleepless nights worth it.

After handing off his mic and taking a final group picture, Chan searches for Y/n. He’s so happy and he wants to share this moment with her. A brief look around doesn’t yield any results, but Chan’s not concerned, he knows that even though the job is finished for him, the staff still have a lot of work to do.

He manages to catch Minyoung as she’s shoving cases of makeup into a large tub.

“Hey, just wondering if you’ve seen Y/n around? Had something I wanted to talk to her about.”

“Ah,” she says. “I haven’t seen her around, I think that something came up during the show.”

“Oh, thanks.” Chan’s mood rapidly sours, but he does his best not to show it. He checks his phone again, but there’s no new messages from Y/n. It’s odd, but Chan wants to give Y/n the benefit of the doubt and not jump to conclusions. It wouldn’t be the first time that Y/n got pulled away to deal with a different issue or was too busy to notice that her phone battery died, he reasons.

“We still have that dinner tonight, she’ll probably turn up there.”

“Right!” Chan had forgotten all about the dinner that was planned as both a celebration and a kick off for the tour. He feels a bit better knowing that attendance to the event is basically mandatory and the rest of the staff must be scrambling to get everything finished before then.

The restaurant that they head to has been fully rented out, so they don’t have to worry about being spotted. It’s crowded with staff, some being people that Chan has never even seen.

When he hears a couple of coordis sitting at an adjacent table mention ‘Y/n’ and ‘soulmate’ in the same sentence, he’s instantly on guard and focuses on what they’re saying. If it was somehow found out that Y/n is his soulmate, it would explain her sudden disappearance. They would need to contain that information fast.

“They’re just so cute together, it must be so nice to have a soulmate,” one of them sighs.

“And especially one you work with, since we’re going to be travelling so much. I heard that they left early together today,” the other says conspiratorially, resulting in a gasp from her friend. Chan's confused, but keeps listening. “I wish I could do that, I think I would be fired on the spot if I even thought about taking a break during the concert.”

“Oh! Someone mentioned that they did see Eunsung-ssi basically carrying someone out earlier, I guess it was Y/n-ssi. Lucky girl,“ the coordi says wistfully.

Eunsung? Y/n leaving early? It's not unusual for Chan to not be able to keep track of where Y/n is and he couldn’t be that obvious about asking around for her, but she’s never actually left without at least texting him before. It would explain why he still couldn’t spot her when he had glanced around the restaurant.

“Hyung.” Jeongin cuts off his train of thought. “Is everything okay?”

“Huh? Yeah,” Chan looks down to see that okonomiyaki that was in his plate has been subconsciously shredded by his chopsticks and has basically reverted back to its precooked form, just a pile of ingredients. Being on stage always requires a lot of energy and before this meal, Chan had been starving. He’s starting to regret the amount of food that he had scarfed down though, it has seemed to all consolidate into one big lump that now sits uneasy in his stomach.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, just got full all of a sudden.” He pushes away his dish, the sight of the uneaten food is enough to make him feel a little queasy.

They’re interrupted by clapping and look up to see that a cake is being brought out, fizzling sparklers and a printed image of a tour poster decorating the top. Chan joins the group to take a picture, but can only manage to swallow a couple bites of the cake before he hands it off to Jisung who happily finishes it.

When Chan gets back to the hotel, Y/n still isn't in their room yet. He checks his phone again, but there’s still no notifications from Y/n. He sends off a message, asking if everything is okay then showers. When he checks his phone again, there’s still nothing.

At that moment, Chan hears the familiar whir of the lock and he looks up at Y/n shuffles in.

"Oh, you're back already," she says, eyebrows jumping up in surprise when she notices him.

"Where else would I be?" Chan replies. Even he can tell his tone is more waspish than usual and Y/n pauses only a couple steps from the door.

"Uhm. Sorry," she says cautiously. "I just thought you might have been at the gym or something. You're usually out until later than this." Chan narrows his eyes at her response.

“We had the team dinner tonight.”

“Oh, was that today? I completely forgot.”

"And where were you?"

"I- I wasn't feeling that well. I left the concert a bit early to get some rest." Now that she mentions it, Chan can tell she’s holding her body differently, more gingerly, like any sudden movement could cause pain.

"But you weren't here, where did you go?"

"I didn't know if I was getting sick. I was concerned about passing something on to you so we found a doctor that could see me on short notice. They said everything was fine."

"Oh," Chan says, starting to feel bad now. He shouldn't have paid attention to what the coordis were insinuating. "Sorry, I just-"

"Just wanted to snap at me?"

“You didn’t text,” he says lamely.

“Sorry. I wasn't thinking straight, I forgot to let you know.”

"I guess I was just worried," Chan admits. "I couldn't find you after the concert and you weren’t at dinner, I didn't know what happened."

"Sorry,” she says again, “Things were kind of hectic. I- I didn’t know that you would notice. And I really did forget about the dinner.”

“Wait, did you go by yourself?” Chan doesn’t know if he’s asking to see if there was any truth in the overheard conversation or because he feels nervous about Y/n out in a foreign city by herself.

“No, Eunsung-oppa was with me.”

“Oh?” Chan tries to sound nonchalant. This whole conversation has been a rollercoaster ride of emotions and he’s ready to get off.

“He’s the one in our team that we go to for anything medical related. He does the first aid training and knows all the protocol for if we have to fill out paperwork. We also had one of the Japanese staff there to help translate.”

“Ah.” Chan’s an idiot. He feels like the worst person in the world. He’s so dumb for jumping to conclusions.

“Yeah.”

"As long as you're okay. Come here."

Chan opens his arms. When Y/n walks into his embrace, they both sigh in relief.

“Feel better?” Chan asks.

“Yeah, I guess I was just tired,” she says, but there’s something weird in her voice. He pulls away slightly.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah! Just- just had a weird day. And… I had a headache. But really, I’m fine now. I feel a lot better knowing I’m not going to get you or any of the guys sick. How was the concert?”

“It was good! Great, actually,” he says. Thinking about it brings a smile back to his face. “I know things are busy for you right now, but we’ll have to get you in the crowd for one of the nights! I want you to be able to see the show that you worked so hard on, it’d be a lot of fun.”

“I’d like that too,” Y/n says, smiling wistfully.

“I can mention it to Yonghwan, he can figure out logistics. We always have some tickets reserved in case we want to invite guests, they’re good seats. Maybe a little far back, but you’ll be able to see everything that way. One of the cities we’re doing multiple days might be best, I know the second show would probably be less busy for your team.” He stops himself when he catches Y/n trying to hide a yawn. “You must be tired, sorry I’m rambling. Go wash up, we can go to bed now.”

He releases her from their embrace and watches as she has to collect herself the second they break contact. She's obviously still not feeling well, but Chan bites his tongue instead of voicing his concern. He could see that Charging had seemed to relieve her symptoms and they’re about to sleep anyway. They’re going home tomorrow, but don’t have to leave until the afternoon so Chan’s looking forward to finally getting something close to a full night of rest.

—

Usually at airports, Chan tries to tune out all his surroundings. He’s aware of the occasional sasaeng that gets tickets to follow them into the departure area or even onto their flight, but knows better than to give them any attention. Today, he happens to sit right beside the two coordis that he heard gossiping last night. Trying to be casual, he turns off his music and slides off his headphones so that he can better hear what they're saying.

"-so glad to be heading back home. It feels like it's been forever since I've seen my boyfriend." He catches one of them saying.

"Ugh, at least you have a boyfriend. I haven't been on a good date in months!"

"Maybe you can find one at work too. Didn't Y/n-ssi and Eunsung-ssi meet at the company?"

"You're like, obsessed with them. I swear, one of these days they're going to find out you keep talking about them."

"Oh come on, if they didn't want people to talk then they wouldn't be so obvious about it. Look at the two of them now, you can’t say that they're doing a very good job of hiding that they're soulmates."

Last night proved why Chan shouldn’t give weight to any of their comments, but still Chan looks up from where he’s been pretending to read something on his phone. Eunsung and Y/n are sitting shoulder to shoulder, laughing at something on one of their phones. Something curdles in Chan’s stomach as he watches them.

“It doesn’t help that Eunsung-ssi is so handsome. I’m sure he could have been an idol or at least a model with those looks if he wanted to. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off him if I were Y/n-ssi either.” The coordis both giggle at that.

Eunsung is tall, at least 180 cm, with broad shoulders, perfect double eyelids, and a stupidly symmetrical face. His hair seems to always fall in artful waves over his forehead and when he smiles, it reveals his even and bright white teeth. It’s true that he looks more like a stereotypical idol than Chan does, even after hair and makeup have transformed him into a different person. Chan doesn’t notice that he’s glaring until Seungmin nudges him gently.

“Hyung, any reason you’re practically burning a hole in the side of Y/n-noona’s head?”

“Huh? Y/n, no- I- just-” The pair laughs again, Y/n tilting off to the side as she closes her eyes. Eunsung reaches out to steady her with a hand to the shoulder and doesn’t remove it. Instead, he uses the contact to pull her closer so that she can lean against him.

Chan forgets what he was saying. Seungmin eyes him knowingly. For once, he doesn’t make any comment.

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