#os fic

[taevbears]

Movie Night

When horror movies don't scare you anymore, your boyfriend wants to figure out what you are afraid of.

⤑ pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader (feat. the Daegu boys) ⤑ genre: horror, mystery, suspense, one-shot ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 6.1k ⤑ warnings: obsessive behavior, stalking, depictions of kidnapping, torture, and multiple murders, hidden camera, non-explicit sex, a bit of angst, open ending. this fic gets pretty dark, so please be cautious of the warnings! ⤑ note: happy halloween! this started as a little spooky shower thought i had a little over a month ago and became this lol. i love reading scary stories, but lmao, i feel like i'm not very good at writing them. thank you @angelicyoongie for assuring me that this isn't as terrible as i think it is. also please note that this is a work of fiction and i don't think IRL jungkook is like the character in this fic at all

“No, please! Don’t hurt me!”

The shadow of a muscular, male figure looms over the female protagonist. His breaths are heavy from chasing her around, barely visible against the chilly, October air. Finally, he has her cornered. He holds up a sharp knife in the air.

The woman trembles on the ground, sobbing and pleading for her life to be spared. Mascara runs down her cheeks, and a look of hopelessness and despair fills her eyes. She holds her hands in front of her in a feeble attempt to defend herself.

The camera pans away as the killer violently stabs the woman. Her terrifying screams of pain and anguish echoes from the TV screen as fake blood splatters on the wall.

Blue and white light bathes over you and your date in the dim living room. You try to suppress a long yawn with the back of your hand.

You’re so bored, you’re practically in tears.

“You didn’t like it?” Jungkook asks you, chuckling at your reaction.

“It didn’t scare me,” you admit sheepishly, hoping he doesn’t get the wrong idea.

You love horror movies. It’s what inspired you to become a film student. You love being on the edge of your seat from the thrill and suspense that the main character acts out. You love being genuinely shocked from unexpected twists and jump-scares. You love a good ghost story that haunts you long after the credits roll, or the paranoia of a similar terrifying incident happening to you.

But perhaps, over time, they’ve lost a bit of their magic.

Although the production of movies has become phenomenal in recent years, movies these days seem to rely too heavily on shock value and nostalgia. Once popular franchises are milking out their legacies to a newer audience. There are so many retellings of the same, old stories that you can already accurately predict what will happen before you reach the ending. Even some of the most climactic scenes of the movie are so over-the-top, they’re almost comical.

Honestly, it has nothing to do with your date or even the so-called horror movie itself. You just don’t scare as easily anymore.

Jungkook peers are you curiously, a boyish grin on his face. “Then, what are you scared of?”

“I don’t know. Probably nothing.”

“Yeah? That’s a bold statement.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

Jungkook laughs. “You have to be scared of something.”

You throw the question back at him. “Then, what are you afraid of?”

He thinks about it, rubbing his chin in thought and pushing his tongue against the lip rings on his mouth. Then, he meets your gaze. There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he smiles at you. “Hmm, I think I’d be scared to lose you.”

You find yourself smiling back at him.

“You’re so sweet, Kook,” you tell him, leaning over to kiss him.

Only recently, you and Jungkook started dating officially, and you really like him a lot. He’s very cute, funny, handsome, and perfect in many ways. Butterflies flutter in your stomach when you’re around him, and there’s still that exciting giddiness and eagerness of new love whenever he messages you or visits you in the evening.

In some ways, Jungkook is almost too good to be true.

Part of you wonders if there’s a catch.

But with his lips on yours, it’s easy to push that thought aside.

Credits roll on the screen as the movie comes to an end. His fingers glide up your thigh as yours tangle into his hair. The cool piercing on his lips presses against your bottom lip as he slips his tongue in your mouth, and a soft moan escapes you.

Suddenly, Jungkook pulls away and faces the TV. He uses the remote to tap out of the movie credits and browse through the list of recommended shows on your streaming service. Casually, trying to hide a teasing smirk, he asks, “How about we watch a different movie, then?”

You stare back at him, a bit stunned and flustered. But your own smile touches your lips.

“Or,” you suggest, grabbing his wrist to lower the remote. He turns away from the screen to look at you, eyes lingering on the sultry smile on your lips. “I know something else we can do instead.”

When you first saw Jungkook, you thought you were being catfished.

His selfie on the dating app included a slight head tilt, a pucker of his pierced lips, and a peace sign. Big, doe-shaped eyes stared back at you from your phone screen, and you noticed the tiny moles below his lip, on the tip of his nose, and on his cheek.

The second picture was of him and his brown doberman, affectionately named Bam. The picture was taken of them outside. One of his hands was holding a tennis ball and the other was gently touching the dog’s long ears. A small, fond smile tugged on your lips when you looked between them and realized that they kind of looked alike.

The third picture was him at the gym. It was a back-shot where he was using the equipment. Broad shoulders, buff arms and back, a tiny waist. You stared way too long at his strong muscles and the ink on his arm before you finally swiped right.

Turned out, much to your surprise, he liked your pictures too. The two of you were a match.

And it wasn’t long until he sent his first message to you. In your inbox, a simple: “hey :)”

On your first date, the two of you agreed to meet at a very public, very crowded bistro. You stood nervously by the building, dressed nice for the occasion. And in case anything went wrong or if this Jungkook guy wasn’t who you expected him to be, you shared your location and had a “send help lol” message on standby for your bestie, Min Yoongi.

As you waited, scrolling through and jumping around different apps on your phone, you found yourself to be surprised yet again.

Someone who looked like the guy you’ve been chatting with called out your name. And soon, he was standing in front of you: big eyes, bigger muscles, tiny beauty marks on his face, colorful ink on his arm, a charming smile, and a simple, “Hey, I’m Jungkook.”

One date turned to a second date. Then, a third. And by the fourth date, as he laid in your bed that night and snuggled close to you, it finally started to sink in that Jungkook wasn’t some figment of your imagination.

He was real, and sweet, and seemed to really like you as well.

Jungkook, like you, had an interest in filming. He especially liked editing videos for his dance challenges, short clips, and a series he called “Golden Closet Film” on his channel. While you imagined yourself to be a big director, working in movie sets, and making scripts come to life with your vision, Jungkook told you he’d like to film a project where you’re the star.

“I don’t think I’m on-screen material,” you replied, amused by the idea. You’re not an actress. You don’t think you have the kind of beauty filmmakers seek out for their lead roles. Hell, if anything, Jungkook would be a better fit for an acting gig.

“You are,” he insisted, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. “To me, you’re perfect.”

You smiled at him then, your heart fluttering by his words. “You are to me, too.”

It was shortly after that conversation when you both decided to date each other exclusively. And it felt like the kind of romance you’d see in the movies. Picture perfect, a little corny at times, and a thrilling whirlwind of laughter, teasing remarks, and intimate touches.

“Am I who you thought I’d be?” Jungkook asks you the next morning after the movie-night bust, propping himself up on the side and peering down on you. His arm flexes, colorful ink decorating it, as the thick comforter wraps around his bare body.

“No,” you confessed, still a bit tired from last night. You keep your eyes closed as you quietly murmur, “You’re even better.”

“Yeah?”

You don’t need to open your eyes to see the pleased look on his face. As you feel him press his lips against your cheek, you ask, “What about me? Am I who you thought I’d be?”

Had you opened your eyes then, perhaps you would’ve seen it. The blank look on his face as he pulls away from you, how the light in his eyes suddenly seems to vanish, as if he isn’t really looking at you anymore.

Jungkook doesn’t answer you right away. When you open your eyes, you see him shaking his head. The same, sweet boyish smile appears on his lips.

“You’re exactly what I’m looking for.”

The topic about exes inevitably came up early on in your relationship with Jungkook. You’ve dated casually before. Even thought you’d be getting somewhere with some of the guys you were talking to.

But none of them quite compared to Kim Taehyung.

You were a film student. He was a photography major. The two of you were bound to end up in some of the same classes together in the art division.

To you, it was love at first sight. You fell for him so hard and so fast.

What started as bumping into each other at the library and helping each other with assignments led to making out at each other’s dorms with the text books left unopened. Coffee dates between classes became anniversary dinners at nice restaurants. He introduced you to his parents, and you proposed going on a romantic getaway together.

The day you didn’t think you’d ever love anyone else was when he snapped a photo of you looking out at the scenery during that weekend trip. It was just you and him, and a natural setting that looked straight out of a movie.

He smiled to himself as he looked at the picture through his camera. That day, he called you his muse.

And in return, you told him that you loved him.

When you fell for Taehyung, you fell hard and fast. Eventually, it occurred to you that Taehyung didn’t do the same.

Sure, he cared about you. Sure, he loved you. But while you heard wedding bells and dreamed about your future with him, Taehyung was just starting to put himself out there in the world. His art was being recognized, and he was getting booked to shoot at weddings, parties, and other big events every week.

Soon, the dates happened less frequently. The romantic gestures of bringing you flowers, surprising you on nice dates or small gifts, or even renting your favorite movies to watch together happened even less. He would promise that he’d make it to a party or an important event to you, just to let you down. And it felt like him giving you a bit of affection or attention was a chore.

Taehyung was the world to you, but the petty arguments and the distance that started growing between you two made it clear to you where his priorities were. And it wasn’t with you.

Breaking up with him was the hardest thing you had to do. Both of you knew it was coming. It was just a matter of who broke up with who first.

Just as Taehyung came into your life, quickly and effortlessly, he was gone. Nothing but bittersweet memories of what once was and what could have been weighed heavily on you for months.

What made it worse was that Taehyung, a man you loved with all your heart, had moved on from you so fast and so easily.

You saw him and his new girlfriend at a mutual friend’s party. You were warned that he’d be there, that he was already seeing someone. But it still hurt like hell to see him happy and in love with another person.

But if Taehyung could move on, so could you.

It felt weird at first, but you started to put yourself out there again. You joined dating apps. You went out with the people that fancied your interest. You met Jungkook.

And from there, everything was history.

With Jungkook, you started to think about Taehyung a lot less. The plaguing “what ifs” have quieted down, and the hurt from heartbreak began to heal. With Jungkook, you started to feel like yourself again: you started to smile more, laugh more loudly, enjoy watching movies again, became passionate about cinematic ideas you’d like to create one day.

With Jungkook, you’re also cautiously optimistic.

Because like Taehyung, you feel yourself falling hard and fast for Jungkook. It’s almost scary how truly perfect he is.

“I think you’re just psyching yourself out,” Yoongi tells you, sliding into the chair opposite of you with two cups of coffee in his hands. He smells like freshly-baked cookies. A spot of flour stains his apron as he uses his fifteen-minute break to hang out with you.

“Maybe,” you sigh, gratefully taking the drink he hands you. “What do you think about him?”

“Does my opinion even matter at this point? You’re in love with him,” he drawls before taking a sip of his Iced Americano.

“Of course it does, best friend. Why else would I keep you around?” you remark, taking a sip of your own drink. “Besides the free coffee and cookies. Thank you, by the way.”

He rolls his eyes. The perks of being friends with the cookie boy at your local bakery is a free cup of coffee and getting dibs on leftover treats that didn’t sell the day.

“He’s fine. Kind of annoying. A little too energetic,” he answers as his eyes flit toward the TV screen that his boss keeps on. A woman dressed in bright, business clothing holds a microphone as she reports on the recent news. There’s a grim look on her face.

You have your back turned to it, but you can hear Yoongi’s boss turning up the volume.

Breaking news. Missing woman found dead near home. The victim has succumbed to multiple stab wounds. It is believed that she has been kidnapped and tortured prior to her violent death. The attacker is currently unknown and still at large. Local authorities advise staying indoors and to please report any suspicious activity.

Your heart sinks as you look over your shoulder, seeing police taping off the crime scene and answering what they can to the news outlets. The location is so close to where you are.

“This is the second victim,” a customer mutters with a frown.

The person they’re with nods their head and asks, “Do you think they’re connected?”

“I don’t know. I hope not. We’ll have a serial killer in our hands.”

“Hey,” Yoongi calls your attention. When you look at him, there’s concern on his face. “If you need a ride anywhere, make sure you call me. Doesn’t matter what time.”

“I’ll be okay, Yoongi. Jungkook usually comes to my place anyway.”

“Still. Just let me know that you’re still alive when I check in, all right?” he says as he stares at the screen. You don’t blame him for being worried. As you follow his gaze, you see a picture of the latest victim of the ongoing case that has the whole town on edge.

This woman, like the others, kind of looks like you.

“If you’re with me, you have nothing to worry about,” Jungkook assures you, throwing a tennis ball as Bam hurriedly chases after it. 

The two of you are at a park with his dobermann. Despite how scary it’s been lately with the news, it’s a nice day. Children are screaming and playing together on the playground as their parents watch them nearby. A group of teenage boys are playing basketball on the outdoor court. Middle-aged and elderly couples are paired up and are getting their daily steps in.

“My hero,” you joke half-heartedly, but you’re still a bit concerned. Yoongi being worried about you makes you feel paranoid.

Jungkook turns to you. He holds out his hand as Bam retrieves the ball and drops it for another throw. “I thought you weren't afraid of anything.”

“Movie-wise, I’m not. But this is different.”

Jungkook throws the slobbery ball again. Further this time as Bam barks happily and takes off. He takes a seat next to you on the park bench. “I can leave Bam with you when I have my evening shifts. He makes a good guard dog.”

He works as an editor and cameraman for a big content creator, which gives him lots of flexible hours to work on his projects when he isn’t busy filming. Since the beginning of autumn, his boss has been giving him evening work to film ghost-hunting videos and other spooky content for Halloween.

“That’ll be nice,” you reply with a small smile. The two of them have been coming to your place so often, it might as well be their second home.

From a short distance, Bam lies on the grass with the tennis ball by his paws. His tongue is out, needing a short break from running around, as he faces you and Jungkook. Even with other dogs and kids around, he’s very well-behaved.

Just as Jungkook tells you that he’ll get Bam, the sound of small, excited barks grab your attention. A familiar black and brown pomeranian approaches you like an old friend, wagging its tail and perking its ears up when it sees you.

Your heart nearly jumps when you recognize the dog.

“Tan!”

You know that voice. How could you not?

That deep, smooth baritone has haunted you for months.

Taehyung, your ex-boyfriend, stops in his tracks when he realizes why his pomeranian took off. The two of you were still together when he adopted Yeontan, and you were there to help raise him when he was still a puppy.

“Who’s this?” Jungkook asks, drawing your attention back to him. He reaches out to pet Yeontan, but the pomeranian growls at him. Almost like he wants to protect you from him.

“Sorry, he’s mine,” Taehyung apologizes, stepping closer to you two and picking his dog up. He looks at you as he tries to soothe the agitated Yeontan in his arms. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”

“Good,” you reply politely. Old feelings start to pull on your heart strings that you fervently try to ignore. “I’m good.”

“You look good,” Taehyung starts, but then he purses his lips in regret. It’s obvious that he’s nervous to talk to you. Maybe he feels the same as you.

Softly, you reply, “You do, too.”

“Who’s this?” Jungkook repeats. This time, there’s an annoyed look on his face as he stares at Taehyung. 

It puts you off a bit. Jungkook is usually a friendly guy.

“Oh, this is Taehyung. We used to date,” you tell him honestly. Though, the information seems to just annoy him more. “Taehyung, this is—”

“I’m Jungkook. She’s my girlfriend now.”

His arm snakes around you possessively. He holds a steady gaze, but it’s a look you’ve never seen on him before. Dark, threatening, and angry. It’s almost unnerving.

“I see…” Taehyung trails off as his gaze shifts toward him. Yeontan is still in his arms, growling and barking at Jungkook. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the pup so aggressive toward someone. Even Bam comes over, ditching his ball to guard over you and Jungkook.

“It was nice to see you, Taehyung,” you tell him, sensing the tension in the air and deciding to cut things off. He seems reluctant to leave.

“Yeah…” he continues to trail off, finally pulling his gaze away to look at you. It looks like there’s a million things he wants to say to you. In a lower tone, he tells you, “My number is still the same. If you ever want to talk.”

You frown. After the breakup, you’ve deleted his number and unfollowed him on social media. “Oh, I don’t—”

“Then I’ll call you,” he promises, firm with his decision.

You don’t get it. You and Taehyung have run into each other after the breakup before, and he’s never had an issue with you dating anyone after him. He clearly has moved on, and so have you. 

Why now?

What is it about Jungkook that has him worried for you?

“I don’t like that guy.”

Jungkook is still heated as he drives you home. His grip is tight around the steering wheel, and the tires screech when he makes a sharp turn. Bam stumbles a bit in the back before sticking his head out the window again.

“Slow down, Kook. You have nothing to be worried about.”

The radio blasts in the car, too much in a rush to connect his playlist to the stereo. It’s playing the week’s top music, and a catchy song from a popular artist fills the car.

Curious, you open your phone and check your followers. You’ve unfollowed Taehyung a long time ago on all your social platforms, finding it hard to look at any of his recent pictures – even just his scenic photography – without thinking about how he had once called you his muse.

But Taehyung never unfollowed you. He had always kept his inbox open for you.

“Did you see the way he was looking at me? It’s like he was looking down on me,” he continues to rant, speeding over a yellow light. He glances over at you and sees that you’re distracted with your phone. “I don’t like how you were looking at him either.”

“Are you serious?” you ask, turning your attention to him. “We barely talked. What the hell are you trying to insinuate?”

On the radio, the program is interrupted. One of the hosts makes a grim announcement.

Ladies and gentlemen, we just received unfortunate news that a third body has been found pertaining to a series of brutal deaths. 

“You still love him! You’ll go back and leave me again!” he suddenly snaps, throwing you off guard.

Silence follows the tension.

Then, you inquire, “Again?”

The third victim is a young female. Hair color and eye color match the previous victims as well, indicating that this might be a targeted attack by the killer.

Not once have you been unfaithful to Jungkook. Even when you were starting to message each other, you weren’t talking to anyone else. The two of you haven’t even been dating that long.

“Forget I said anything,” he starts with a frustrated sigh. But he realizes he’s fucked up.

“No, I’m not just going to forget it. What do you mean by that, Jungkook?”

As of now, authorities have no leads on a suspect. All victims have been kidnapped, tied up, and tortured prior to their deaths. We are led to believe that this is the work of a potential serial killer. 

He nearly slams to a stop. The seatbelt around you yanks you back from hitting the dashboard. Bam falls to the floor and you gasp as the back of your head hits your seat.

Jungkook doesn’t answer you, but for the first time, it feels like the rose-tinted glasses you have on him have fallen off. He’s always been perfect to you: sweet, athletic, talented, and kind. But the Jungkook before you is someone completely different.

This Jungkook scares you.

Stay inside. Lock your doors. Call the police if you see anything suspicious. Be safe out there, folks.

“I told you to forget about it, didn’t I?” he asks through gritted teeth and a harsh look in his eye.

You nod your head, hands trembling a bit as you hold onto your vibrating phone. The screen shows an unknown number trying to contact you.

“Is there a reason why your boyfriend called me?” Yoongi asks you from the other line. He has you on face-time, awkwardly propping up the camera to show his elbow as he mixes a batch of cookies.

It’s been about a week since you saw Jungkook.

After he dropped you off at home, he wanted to put it all behind him. He kissed you sweetly and murmured apologies for overreacting as his hands slipped under your shirt. But you sent him home before he could convince you to sleep with him. You were still upset about how hostile he was toward Taehyung, his accusations about you, and what his outburst meant.

That hasn’t stopped him from trying to get back to your good graces, though.

The number of missed calls from him keeps increasing by the hour. Ones that you leave unanswered or send straight to your voicemail. 

You don’t want to talk to him.

At your door, you hear him rapping his knuckles against the wooden frame and insistently ringing at your doorbell. From the other side of the door, he begs for a chance to explain. 

You don’t want to see him.

Clearly, after reaching you directly hasn’t worked, he’s starting to contact your friends.

“He’s probably trying to find me,” you tell Yoongi, poking at a bowl of fresh strawberries. You’re still dressed in your pajamas, sitting on a stool by the kitchen counter.

The sound of a small dog can be heard in the background of your line. It dawns on him that you’re not at your place or Jungkook’s.

Yoongi is silent for a moment. Then, he grabs the phone and asks, “What do you mean? Where are you?”

You don’t feel safe in your own home. And that day, while you were in Jungkook’s car, Taehyung called to check up on you. He was always good at reading people, and he warned you that he had a bad vibe about Jungkook.

And you’re starting to see what he meant.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

When you turn your phone, you reveal Taehyung busy in the kitchen, cutting off the crusts from his sandwiches. He looks over his shoulder and gives a sheepish smile at the scandalized expression on your best friend’s face. “Hey Yoongi.”

“Can you please explain what’s going on? Why are you at your ex’s?”

So, you do. You tell him that Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone, that you needed some space to cool off but he wouldn’t let you breathe. It was becoming overbearing and overwhelming.

Against your better judgment, you call Taehyung. He invites you to stay over at his place until you’re ready to talk things out with Jungkook. Because even if you’re not together, he still cares about you. Because a part of him will always love you. And at the time, it seemed like a good idea.

“I didn’t want to be alone, especially with a killer targeting women like me out there,” you explain quietly. It feels like the murders have increased in a shorter period of time. If the town wasn’t on edge before, they certainly are now. “But I was still mad at Jungkook, and he was starting to scare me.”

“So the first person you go to is your ex-boyfriend?”

“There’s nothing going on between us.”

That ship has sailed. You know it has when you walked in and saw his engagement pictures hanging on the wall.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I’m sure he would’ve figured out that I’d be with you,” you tell him with a frown.

“I just wanted to help her, hyung,” Taehyung adds as he stands behind you. “I worry about her too. That guy gives me and Tan a bad feeling.”

Yoongi sighs. “Listen, I don’t think this is a good idea either. You shouldn’t stay with Taehyung. It’ll just make things look a lot worse.”

“I guess you’re right,” you reluctantly agree. Taehyung grimaces, but he can see Yoongi’s point too.

“I’ll pick you up after my shift. You can stay with me until you’re ready to talk to Jungkook,” Yoongi tells you, looking rather serious. “Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime, okay?”

Hey. It’s Jungkook.

You stare at the message on your phone. Three dots that indicate that he’s typing something, but he keeps erasing and re-typing them again. As if he’s trying to properly convey his words.

Are we breaking up?

You stare at that message even longer. It feels childish to break up with him without trying to talk to him. For the first time in a week, you pick up your phone and type back.

You scared me, Kook.

His response is immediate.

I thought you weren’t scared of anything.

You huff when you realize he’s teasing you, even now.

Movie-wise, I’m not. But this. This is different, Kook. You were really scaring me.

Again, you see the dots appear and disappear before a handful of responses appear.

I know, babe. I’m sorry. Can you please come over? I want to show you something I’ve been working on.

You think about it.

I miss you. Bam misses you too.

Yoongi said not to do anything stupid.

Please, baby. We can just watch a movie, if you want.

But, like in every horror movie, the protagonist finds themselves making a plethora of stupid decisions.

Okay, Kook. I’ll come tonight.

Movie nights with Jungkook was one of the things you always looked forward to throughout the week. Nothing appealed to you more than a night-in with your boyfriend, food delivered at your door, and checking out new shows and movies.

You have your list of favorites, but nothing quite holds a place in your heart than a good ol’ horror movie. Tellings of urban legends, supernatural forces, paranormal activities, true crime, and slasher films. 

As you step into Jungkook’s house, it almost feels like you’re in one of those movies.

His place is dark, almost pitched black. You could barely see what’s in front of you.

“Come inside,” Jungkook says, grabbing your hand. He pulls you in and deadbolts the door behind you.

“It’s so dark,” you remark, gingerly stepping forward. You have a bad feeling about this. You almost pull back toward the door, thinking of waiting for Yoongi or going back to Taehyung instead.

But Jungkook has a firm grip on you. “I thought you weren’t afraid of anything.”

“This is different, Kook,” you try to reason. “You’re really freaking me out.”

He pulls you further inside. In the living room, nothing but the TV is on. The screen is paused on a homemade film.

This must be the project that Jungkook is talking about.

Everything is set. The living room is clean, a bowl of popcorn and a couple bottles of alcohol sits on the coffee table, the lights are off, and the show is ready to play. He sits you down in the middle and keeps an arm around you.

“You know, when we met, you were exactly what I was looking for,” he starts as he presses play.

The tape shows you. Bam lying on your lap as you affectionately pet his face and kiss the top of his head. You, holding Jungkook’s hand and leading him down a busy sidewalk. You, in the kitchen, trying to swat his hand away as he steals your ingredients. You and Jungkook, peering into the camera lens, and your bashful face as he kisses your cheek. 

A smile tugs on your lips as you watch yourself on the screen. Jungkook leans over, copying his onscreen self and kisses your face.

One thing you liked about filming is seeing things from a different perspective. In this case, seeing yourself through Jungkook’s eyes. You look so happy, so incredibly in love with him.

Like with Taehyung, you fell for Jungkook hard and fast.

But Jungkook fell for you harder and faster.

Your smile fades as the next scene shows.

The camera points to the bed, and a couple walks in. It’s you and Jungkook, stumbling in together after drinks at a bar. You’re laughing and trying to wrap your arms around him as he leads you onto the bed. The kiss you share is messy, heated. You tug off his clothes to feel more of him.

You remember that night, but…

“Jungkook. When did you record this?”

You had no idea he was filming you then.

You don’t realize it then, but he makes eye contact with the camera, as if to check that it’s on. He maneuvers you to get a good angle of your body as you busy yourself with your own clothes, wanting him to touch you more as well.

“Jungkook, stop. I didn’t—” 

You feel so sick to your stomach.

“Don’t cry, baby. Here, I’ll fast-forward.”

But you don’t want to watch anymore. You want to leave. You shouldn’t have come here.

The screen shows you and Yoongi. The two of you are at the bakery he works at, and you’re wearing an old cardigan that you got rid of . You smile and eagerly reach for one of the coffees in his hands and take the bag of cookies he’s holding between his lips. He rolls his eyes at something you say before he takes his first sip of his Iced Americano. It’s a typical hangout between you and him.

It looks like it was taken across the street. Your heart plummets even further when you realize that the old cardigan you’re wearing was a piece of clothing you got rid of before you met Jungkook.

The scene changes. You’re sitting at the fountain at your university, looking over a script you wrote for an assignment. Taehyung comes to take a seat next to you. He greets you with a boxy smile and a kiss. The two of you were still dating at the time.

How long has Jungkook known about you?

How long has he been targeting you?

It’s you and Taehyung again. This time, it was filmed from the other night. When Taehyung came to pick you up from your house. He helps you carry some of your things into his car and hugs you when he sees the distressed look on your face. 

“Jungkook, what the fuck?”

It dawns on you that you don’t really know your boyfriend at all.

You try to stand up, but Jungkook has a firm hold on you. His grip tightens when you try to resist him, and his hand seizes your neck as he pushes you down. Your heart hammers against your ribs when you quickly realize you can’t escape him. Jungkook is much stronger and faster than you are.

More images flash through the screen. It’s Jungkook this time, taking a mirror-selfie of himself dressed in all black. He has his hood up and a Halloween mask covering his face. 

It cuts to his feet walking across the sidewalk. Carefully, the camera tilts up, showing that there’s a woman just ahead of him. She’s about your height, her hair the same as yours. She doesn’t notice him as she listens to music playing in her earbuds. 

The scene cuts again, and the same woman is bound and gagged on a chair. Fear shines through her eyes as a shadow of a knife reflects from her body. Behind the camera, Jungkook demands, “Say your line.”

He removes the gag from her mouth. Her voice pitches in a high shrill as she quickly says, “I-I love you. I won’t leave you.”

You recognize her as the latest victim of the latest killings.

And the realization hits you like a truck. Jungkook and his night shifts, the increasing deaths, his interest in filming, having you as the star.

“I practiced, you know. I’ll get it right this time,” he tells you, pulling out some rope he had hidden behind the cushion. You’re trembling as he wraps them tightly around your wrist. “I’ll make sure you don’t leave me again.”

“You’re so bad,” the Jungkook on the screen says, showing what looks like an abandoned warehouse. It’s dimly lit, but you can hear someone running from him. But he doesn’t seem worried, his heavy footsteps casually echo across the concrete. In his hand is a sharp and bloody knife. Mockingly, he asks, “Where did you think you’d go?”

The victim has been let go, but she isn’t free. Ahead, she finds herself cornered as Jungkook catches up to her. Terrified, she holds her hands out in front of her, as if that would stop him.

It’s like seeing your own fate on the screen.

The woman begs and screams before her blood splatters across the floor. You find yourself quoting her, staring up at his darkened eyes. “No, please. Don’t hurt me.”

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, staring right at you. His mouth twitches, fighting a smile. “I thought you liked horror movies.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

#movie night os #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #yandere jungkook #bts horror #jungkook horror #halloween 2023 #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic

[dracowars]

H!i i love your writing and i wanted to make a request can you do a draco x reader where they have a fight and then they sleep in diffrent rooms and the reader has a nightmare so she goes to dracos room and then just fluff <3

fighter | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 1,2k

summary: where y/n and draco sleep in separate rooms due to an argument

a/n: i wrote this in one flow in the notes of my phone (i usually write on my laptop that's also why the " are different) and i don't know what happend, but i've never written something so fast. i hope it stays that way lmao enjoy <3 don't forget to reblog, it's so important!

warnings: angst, mentions of death

universe: harry potter

"I can't believe you are being serious right now!", you scream at Draco, physically retreating from him as you take a few steps back in your anger, anger about what he just told you. The atmosphere in his big dark bedroom in Malfoy Manor doesn't help the cold that is now surrounding you, neither does your light sleeping gown that you put on mere minutes ago to finally get some well deserved sleep. That is until you got into this stupid argument.

Your whole body trembles and you desperartely run your fingers through your hair, waiting for him to tell you that it was just a joke, that none of it is real.

"I knew you wouldn't understand", is the only thing that leaves Draco's mouth and if you had been a few more meters away, you would have probably missed his murmur. But you caught every word he said and it makes you even more furious.

"Oh, so you didn't even think about telling me that you want to take your father's place among the Dark Lord's entourage? The one of your father who is currently, if I may remind you, trapped in Azkaban?!", you say while fully realizing the impact of these words. Draco really wants to become a Death Eater and follow Voldemort as his faithful footman until he decides one day that he does not need him anymore either and puts him into the same prison his father is currently residing.

"See? That's why I preferred not to tell you because I knew you would react like this", Draco only sighs at your emotional outburst, rubbing his palms against each other as he looks at the dark wooden floor beneath your feet.

"So you now support the Dark Lord? Is that it?", you ask, now directly looking at him in utter disbelieve, ignoring his previous words. In your opinion, this is the only reasonable reaction when you are told your loved one wants to basically throw his life, and everything he has accomplished, away. And you are a huge part of that life which he would discard. Just like that.

"Y/N, you are missing my point!", Draco raises his voice now too, no longer being able to withstand the hurtful words you are throwing his way. "I need to do this, alright? It is none of your business anyway."

"N-None of my business?!", you stumble over your words, not believing your ears but one look at his face tells you that he is being deadly serious. For a moment, you hold in your breath and stare at him, looking into his eyes that seem to have darkened now.

"You know what? Alright, if it is your business and you want to follow in your father's steps, then I'm not needed here anymore", you say with a fake smile on your lips, passing him without looking at him again and leaving the room with fast steps. You do not listen when he calls after you, because if he really wanted to solve this, he would follow you. The fact that he does not, sends another dagger through your already suffering heart.

Standing in one of the cold hallways of Malfoy Manor, watched by the few family pictures that hang along the walls, you make your way to the next guest room where you plan on spending the night before being able to leave first thing in the morning.

You open the creaking door and enter the room, taking a look at the large bed with dark green bedding. Sighing, you let yourself fall onto the soft blanket in defeat and look at the panaled high ceiling.

The next moment, all the emotions come crushing down on you and you let your tears run free, crying into the soft bedsheets, grapping a fistful of it in your hand. You don't know how long you just lie there and cry bitterly, but when you suddenly jolt out of your sleep, drenched in sweat, it takes you a few seconds to realize where you are. The realization hits you painfully as you lean against the headboard, knees pulled towards your chest beneath the thick blanket and your hands trembling, pulling the safety of the fabric more towards you.

You thought you had already cried out all of your tears, but this terrible nightmare paralyzed your entire body and the tears streaming down your already puffed cheeks do not seem to stop. Trembling, you lower your forehead onto your knees, closing your eyes to dispose of those bad images, but they keep appearing in front of you. Crying into the blanket even harder, your mind comes up with the only plausible solution and before you know it, you find yourself standing in front of Draco's bedroom again, slowly opening the door.

With only your head poking in at first, you squint into the darkness, searching for any indications if Draco is asleep or not. When you only hear his soft breathing, you sneak towards your side of the bed and climb beneath the cold blanket as quiet as possible, trying to sniffle your tears.

Draco, however, senses that something is wrong and shifts in his sleep, turning onto his back. His hand slightly grazes yours and your breath gets stuck in your throat at the sensation. It only takes two more seconds until Draco opens his eyes, suddenly aware of the warm trembling body next to him.

Pushing onto his arms, he looks at you, confused, but once he hears your sobs, he takes you into his arms without any words, enveloping you in his warmth. Burrying your face in the crook of his neck, your crying grows even worse and you claw his shirt as if he could disappear any second.

"I-I was so scared, D-Draco", you stutter once you have caught your breath a bit more, holding your hands in front of your mouth to stop yourself from breaking down again. "Y-You were a Death Eater and they- they took you from me. H-He killed you, Draco."

Draco, who was busy wiping away your tears while listening, stops in his movement, his lips slightly parted in shock. In this moment, he hated himself for making you cry like this, for causing you such a horrible nightmare that you ended up thinking that you had lost him.

"He won't, Y/N. I promise", Draco whispers finally, not at all sure what he is supposed to say right now. On the one hand, he wants to make everything right again, but on the other hand he knows that he has responsibilites that he can't run away from.

"You can't promise me that", you sob, wiping away your tears by yourself now, your hands still a shaking mess.

"I'm so sorry, darling, but I have to follow him", he answers, his voice shaking as he softly takes your hands in his. "Otherwise he is going to kill me. But what is worse is that he is going to kill my family. He is going to kill you if I don't obey."

As he says these words and lets down his walls, you see a single tear running down his cheek, finding its way onto your intertwined hands below.

"We- We will find a way, baby", you try to assure him, squeezing his hand lightly. "You don't have to do this. We just need to fight. For us. For your family. For you."

"I will."

#draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy os #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy one shots #draco malfoy ff #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco fluff #draco angst #draco x female reader #draco x y/n #draco imagine #draco imagines #draco os #draco one shot #draco one shots #draco fanfic #draco ff #draco fic #draco fanfiction #hp imagine #harry potter fanfiction

[theminecraftbee]

Joel sort of gets dogs.

Not just in the he-has-sharp-teeth-and-wants-to-tear-people-up way, though he has that, and sometimes he wonders if he always had that, always had the pounding red mist in his head or if it had wormed its way in somewhere inside a wizard’s mountain and never gotten out until he couldn’t remember what it felt like not to have it chewing away at him and. He thinks he borrowed the sharp teeth from dogs, and sometimes he looks in the mirror and thinks, huh, he hadn’t always been like this, but frankly it’s sick as hell to be so visibly a monster so like, who cares, he’s badass—

Anyway.

The point is. He doesn’t have to be some kind of animal to get dogs, or like, that’s not the angle he gets dogs from. Or, he gets them like that? He doesn’t know, he’s bad at metaphors, god, why does he do this to himself? The point. The point is that he could get wolves but not really get dogs, if he wanted to, but he gets dogs too.

He didn’t always, really. Like, all he really needed was blood beneath his nails and between his teeth. Not really doggish, that. A wild animal. Dogs are all domestic. But…

So. Never tell Jimmy this. Joel will never hear the end of it. But he patted Joel on the head and Joel—maybe it’s silly. It’s a little bit silly. Jimmy is all… weak and floppy or whatever. Except he’d patted Joel on the head and really kept sticking around and Joel went:

Ah. Yes. I’ll die for you now.

And so like—he gets dogs, is the thing, because he’s a wild animal and he wants to kill and bite and he’s a monster and he’s proud of it and he’s not not a monster anymore it’s just… Jimmy put his arm around Joel last night and Joel almost cried, is the thing. Not sure how to explain that other than…

There are benefits to being a domestic monster?

No, that sounds weird. He’ll workshop it. He’ll workshop it.

#limited life smp #joel smallishbeans #a bee fic #consider this the companion to the jimmy one #have I ever mentioned how much I love traffic!joel #he wants to Kill #but he has also discovered clear straightforward loyalty this season hasnt he #he just wants to be loved…. #anyway I think traffic joel os probably touch-starved and does not know how to explain it #so this is the closest he’s gotten

[alloftheimaginesblog]

nose in a book {bucky barnes}

plot: the coffee shop you and bucky frequent is also a library and every week, you have your nose in a new book.

request by sunflowerkitten2: a coffee shop meet-cute

character: reader x bucky barnes

In all of his years, Bucky Barnes had been to hundreds of coffee shops and had drank thousands of crappy cups of coffee but recently, he'd began to drink at this coffee shop. It was a small shop, half library half coffee shop with warm lighting and a nostalgic musky smell from the old books that adorned the shelves. There was a certain charm to it but the coffee certainly wasn't it. The coffee was actually pretty awful but there was a reason that Bucky kept coming back to this one.

The reason was you.

Each time Bucky came into the small shop, there you sat same time every Saturday morning, same time but always with a different book in your hand. From the first time Bucky entered that coffee shop, he was intrigued by you.

You were usually too concentrated on the book to look up at him when the chime of the door went as he walked in. Sometimes you caught each other's eye and exchanged friendly smiles but that was rare.

Bucky had never approached you, he wanted to but he wasn't that confident around asking beautiful people out anymore. He had changed a lot since the forties. Today though, the book you held in your hands was familiar to him... in fact it was one of his favourites; The Hobbit.

"You know," he said gently as he approached you, voice soft so's not to scare you, "I was there when they first printed that book."

With the comment, you expected it to be attached to a ninety year old man (which he was but you didn't know that yet) and instead you were met with the blue eyes of a very handsome thirty something year old. You laughed, "That's a rubbish pick up line," you teased.

Bucky frowned, "Not a pick up line, doll," he said, "I was actually there. 1937. What a year."

You blinked at him, insanely confused, before your foot pushed out the chair across from me, "Okay, I gotta hear this... How?"

He sat with a smile, reaching his hand across the table to shake yours, "Bucky Barnes, ma'am. Pleasure to meet you." Bucky... Barnes. That name sounded familiar.

Then it clicked.

"Oh!" You exclaimed with a little surprise as your shook his glove clad hand, "Oh my god, you look so good for your age." You hadn't meant to say that, it sounded pretty fucking weird but Bucky's face split into a wide grin. You were amusing. Usually, when people realised who Bucky was they recoiled with fear or at the very least they'd be apprehensive to talk to a ninety something assassin but you... you looked intrigued? He laughed, thanking you for the compliment that slipped out.

"Have you read Lord of the Rings?" You asked him with slightly warm cheeks.

It was his turn to be confused, "I don't think I've ever heard of them."

"Oh my god!" You gasped, "So obviously this is the Hobbit and this is a prequel to The Lord of the Rings which is hands down one of the best series ever written. They made movies of them too! It follows Bilbo's nephew, Frodo and his quest to destroy the Ring."

Bucky vaguely recalled Stark talking about movies that sounded similar to that title, "Are they any good?" He asked, genuinely curious, "To be honest, I've not seen many movies."

"They're so good. They made Hobbit movies too. Three."

He frowned, "Three movies? Did two more Hobbit books come out then?"

You shook your head, explaining that it was three movies centred around the one book, "I really liked them," you shrugged, "but is that because I just absolutely love the Hobbit? Who knows?"

As you and Bucky continued to chat you realised a very important fact, "I just realised I never told you my name," you said stopping mid sentence, "I'm (y/n). It's so nice to meet you, Bucky."

Bucky grinned, "Trust me, doll, pleasure's all mine... Now, can I buy you another cup of coffee?"

#one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #fic #os #marvel #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #avengers #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky #bucky barnes imagine #imagine

[erule]

Do I look like I care? | jj maybank

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!Kook!reader

Summary: you ask JJ to dance with you at the Midsummer, but things don’t go as planned.

Warnings: jealous!JJ, established relationship, fluff

Word count: 1.1K

A/N: hi! I loved 1x05, so here’s something about it. Hope you like it. Enjoy! x

JJ’s Masterlist

It’s a hot Sunday afternoon, you’re on your boat with JJ, who’s smoking with his sunglasses on. You were talking about the Midsummer dance, since you’re a Kook and your family wants you to go there. Topper offered to be your partner and you agreed, since your boyfriend, a Pogue, can’t participate. Still, you hoped that JJ would have said something about it, moved by jealousy perhaps or the desire to make you happy, but he just seemed unconcerned.

“So, you’re telling me that you’re not even a little bit jealous of Topper?”

He shrugs, breathing out some smoke.

“Do I look like I would be jealous of somebody like Topper?”

“You certainly look like somebody who wouldn’t come to the dance with me,” you reply, testily.

“Babe, you just have to tell me. One word and I do whatever you like. If you want me to be there, I’ll be there,” he says with a smile.

You’re suddenly suspicious: it’s true, JJ would always agree to do something with you, especially dangerous things, but this time it feels like a trap. You’re now sure he’s trying to hide his protectiveness towards you, so you try to push him over the edge.

“Are you sure, J? I mean, you should wear a suit, maybe even pretend to be a waiter to be there and dance with me, something that you don’t even like to do, in front of my parents and the other Kooks. It’s not really your cup of tea,” you say, observing every muscle of your boyfriend. He still seems really calm, but you see a jolt in his hand, while he’s putting out his cigarette. Oh, he’s so jealous. You got him!

“Do I look like I care?” He asks you with effrontery.

You shake your head.

“I think that you’re gonna handle it perfectly,” you answer, giving him a peck on the lips.

Tonight’s the night. You’re wearing your best dress, JJ sent you a text telling you that the plan is still in motion with John B. You’re a little bit nervous: you don’t like pushing JJ’s buttons, but this is important to you and you don’t want to be there with somebody who’s not your boyfriend. This is also the only way to have him there, since your parents don’t approve your relationship with him for obvious reasons. You just hope that they won’t see him or, at least, that they’ll just let him be. Speaking of your parents, they’re calling out your name right now.

Ten minutes later, you’re there with Topper, but you don’t see JJ nearby. You’re turning around too often, so Topper starts getting suspicious about it.

“Is everything okay? Is somebody following you or something?” He jokes.

“What?”

His voice is so irritating, you can’t believe that your parents would love to have him as your boyfriend instead of JJ.

“You’re acting weird, please stop,” he whispers to your ear, while smiling to the people in the room.

“And you’re acting like my father,” you say, then you leave his embrace and go away.

This is not going as planned: JJ is nowhere to be seen and your parents already look lost, because you just left Topper’s side. You breathe out, hoping that Sarah or Kie will appear soon next to you.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier,” you hear Topper’s voice behind you. You sigh.

“Topper, you’re a good guy, but…”

“I also forgot to mention that you look really beautiful, tonight,” he adds.

“And this is my time to interfere. Hi Topper, please leave my girl alone, she already has a boyfriend,” JJ says and when you turn around, you see him with some empty glasses on a tray.

“Who made you work here?” Topper asks, surprised.

“Do you work for the police?” JJ replies, shaking his head. “Come on, go away, she saved all of her dances just for me, so you can bore someone else”.

You burst out laughing and Topper mustn't like it, because he runs away livid with rage, probably to call Rafe and his other friends to kick JJ out, but you don't care: he's finally here. JJ leaves the silver plate so he can dance with you.

“You were jealous,” you say, while he’s holding your waist.

“No, I told you: I don’t care”.

“You’re such a liar,” you reply, a smirk on your face.

“Whatever,” he says.

Then he leans down to mutter these words in your ear: "But if you thought I wanted to be the only one to lay a hand on you, you were completely right."

Shivers get down your spine, when you hear his hoarse voice. You didn't even realize you closed your eyes. Now you just feel the heat of JJ's body against yours as you slow dance, the cool air rushing up your ankles. This could be the best moment of your life.

If it weren't for JJ who’s now pulling you away, because Rafe and Topper are chasing you. You run off to the beach, your parents yelling after you, while you laugh and feel free, taking off your heels for more comfort. He takes off his bow tie, throwing it behind him. Luckily your boat is nearby, so you two get on that and hide in the cabin, hoping that the others have not seen you, because you are protected by the darkness of the night. JJ’s still trying to catch his breath, while you’re chuckling.

“What?”

“I’m just thinking about Topper’s face when you appeared,” you answer and he laughs.

“He’s so irritating”.

“Right?”

“He never had a chance with you anyway,” JJ says.

You give him a sly look.

“Why? ‘Cause it’s always been you?”

“No, ‘cause you’re obviously better than him. You’re way out of my league too, honestly. Sometimes I even wonder why you’re with me. You’re better than everybody,” he answers and your heart melts.

You cup his face, your hands caressing his warm skin. His eyes are so blue, they seem the ocean and you’d like to swim into them. He’s holding his breath, as if he’s waiting for you to break up with him right here, right now. But you’re not gonna do that.

“You underestimate yourself, babe. I’m lucky to have you by my side, my knight in shining armor,” you say. “Also, you should put on these elegant clothes more often”.

“Oh, is it?” He asks, his lips on yours.

“Yeah,” you answer with a smile, before he kisses you. “Admit that you were jealous!”

“I was jealous, okay?” JJ squeals, exasperated. “Now let me kiss you!”

You knew it.

#erule's masterlist #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank os #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank hc #jj maybank headcanon #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank ff #jj maybank fanfiction #jealous jj maybank x reader #jealous jj maybank #jj maybank x fem reader #jj maybank x kook reader

[asavt]

I've got no regrets.

#hollytaya #Hollyberry cookie #Pitaya dragon cookie #cookie run #crk #my art #digital art #fan art #now back to other stuff... #I went into the hollytaya tag in ao3 #two fics caught my attention #and also inspired two of the doodles #my mind os forever changed #again.

[spacexseven]

misconduct

NOTE: i really missed working on oneshots :>>

REQUEST: yandere! dazai with an oblivious + self sacrificing darling from @cc-6789

CW: yandere character + themes, obsession, jealousy, stalking, deceit, (heavy) manipulation, abuse of power, breaking and entering. dazai is an Asshole

the first time you loudly declared that you trusted dazai enough to go check on a case with him, dazai felt his heart falter.

it was almost funny how quickly you trusted him, but the thought that you might share your trust with anyone else immediately silenced any humor dazai may have found in the situation. if all it took from him was to regularly ask you about your day, with a little flirting on the side for you to already decide that he was...nice, what would it take from anyone else? was kunikida, who, despite his harsh comments, personally guided you through the hectic report writing process, also nice? was yosano, with her insisting that you step out of the office with her to stretch your legs, also just as easy to trust? though he was confident none of his coworkers held the same wicked thoughts about you as he did, the bitter taste in his mouth refused to go away every time he saw you cling onto yosano on your way out or graciously smile at kunikida before heading home.

and about why he decided to mess with you despite knowing that you trusted him, honestly, he was only curious—just how much did you trust him? or, perhaps, a sullen part of him thinks, it may just be an offhanded statement by which you meant nothing. though nobody around dazai threw around the word trust lightly, he wasn't sure if it was the same for you.

honestly, you weren't all that special in dazai's book, nobody as memorable as the dangerous ability users he mingled with or the incomprehensibly genius minds he discussed with. but there was something about you that lingered in his mind. he can't put his finger on it exactly, but he identified it to be woven into your determination and unwavering resolve, hidden in the bright look in your eyes when you grinned at his antics, and surrounding the silent reassurance you offered when the world weighed down on him—something about you that was entirely unforgettable. somehow, the perfectly ordinary you became so unattainable and striking, even without trying.

and he coveted for all that was you to be his, for it to be tucked away in the palm of his hand, hidden away from prying eyes. he yearned for it to shine for him and not for anyone else, not for any other sweet words or gentle caresses. wasn't it selfish? to want someone so much?

for the most part, you were oblivious to his sinister desires. if not, why were you so careless around him? why did you smile so freely, gravitate towards him so naturally, as though it was perfectly normal to do so? he wonders if you'll scorn him if you knew how selfish he was; not that he couldn't take care of it anyway.

dazai inches a little bit closer to your stiff figure, watching out of the corner of his eye as you glance over at him nervously. at this rate, he was going to be in your lap before you could leave. he observes your eyes flitting between the clock on the wall, its hand crawling at an unbearably slow pace, and to his hand, which had found purchase on your thigh.

he lets his hand shift, holding his breath as his fingers graze your inner thigh with a light touch—light enough to resemble a slight breeze or a delicate brush, but you know it was him. he waits, with bated breath, his fingers on your thigh trembling in anticipation. your lips purse together, a frown slowly creeping onto your face, eyes stuck onto your screen instead now.

and then—"dazai," you finally acknowledge the man beside you, "i'm sure you're bored by watching me work all day long."

he stares at you, not exactly surprised by your response. you go on about how he could just wait outside and you'd be out in a moment or if he'd like you could close up now, but instead of paying attention to your words, his gaze is stuck on your pretty mouth. your lips, he observes, are chapped and dry. you don't seem to notice his attention shift as you ramble on, words never reaching dazai.

you're cut off abruptly when he leans over and starts digging into your bag, finally grasping the cylindrical tube he had been looking for.

"pucker up," he grins deviously at your startled expression, waving the tube in his hand.

honestly, you were far too cute—you had to be doing this on purpose. he was tempted to grab your face and kiss you right then, but he knew better than to try. as the confusion cleared up, you awkwardly follow his orders, hands clenched at your sides. any last protests from you are ignored, his fingers firmly holding your jaw.

a soft smile makes its way onto dazai's face as he slides the balm over your lips. you're still staring at him, quietly, unmoving, but your eyes are locked onto him. he thinks, for a moment, that he quite likes you this way; only looking at him.

"thanks..." though you sound confused, dazai doesn't try to explain himself. instead, he's waiting for you to say something. waiting for you to awkwardly ask him to not to that again, politely say something about boundaries and personal space. but you only look at him for a moment longer before directing your gaze back to your work, obviously unsure of what to do.

perhaps a little recklessly, he decides to test the limits again.

"say," he places a hand over yours, stopping you from typing, "about your friend in the special division..."

your eyes light up as you turn to face him, "oh!," you mention a name dazai can't be bothered to remember—he knows the loser's face, anyway, "he was the one who got me a job here, actually. do you know him, dazai?"

he inhales deeply and then sighs, as though he was gathering up the courage to tell you something. your interest is obviously piqued, as you completely move your hands away from the keyboard.

"well ango mentioned," you'd recognize ango's name for sure, "that he was acting a little...strange. sort of jumpy and on edge," dazai pauses for a minute to gauge your reaction, biting back a smile, "i was just wondering if you were aware of anything going on in his personal life?"

"not that i know of, but dazai, why—"

"none of this is really any of my business, but ango sounded really worried about it. and you know, there was some suspicious activity linked back to him as well...missing files and the sort...."

dazai was distracted for a moment, musing on how cute your shocked expression was.

"you don't think...he can't be a spy. he doesn't have any suspicious friends, and he really loves his job. i just can't imagine..."

dazai, with a perfectly feigned expression of concern, places a hand on your shoulder, "for the time being, i think it's best you distance yourself a little. obviously, there'll be an investigation and i'm afraid they might trace things to you. "

"that...makes sense," you whisper.

"i didn't mean to make you worried, [name]. i know you'd never do such a thing, but if he were to frame you or try to drag you into this..."

noticing your distraught expression, dazai tries to apologize to you for ruining your mood. you reassure him after that, though your voice is still shaky and dazai knows you're the one in need of reassurance. but what he's really interested in is whether you'd listen to him or the desperate pleas of your friend. whether you'd trust his words or not.

it's a few days later that you slump over in your seat, looking absolutely devastated.

"he was packing up his things," you manage to say, "and...he kept saying that he was being set up."

dazai nods along as you confide in him your suspicions, not at all suspecting that your friend was telling the truth all along.

"and then," you lower your voice even more, "he kept mentioning you, and said that you were lying."

dazai's blood runs cold, and he rapidly assesses the situation. how could he salvage this? how could he—

"i think my phone's bugged!" you finally declare, much to his surprise, "i mean, how else would he know what we talked about?"

it occurs to dazai then, in a wonderful revelation, that you didn't suspect him, even for a moment. you had immediately assumed it was your so-called friend who was lying. oh, what a marvelous thing trust was. dazai doesn't waste any more time. he offers you some comforting words and asks you if you want to take the day off. in response, you look at him like he just offered you the world. you were so easy to please, he thinks, wouldn't it be just as easy for someone to sweep you up and away from him?

he thinks of suave, charming mafioso and exciting, mysterious strangers. he thinks of seductive smiles and alluring words. there was too much on the line, and you were not yet completely reliant on him. he had his work cut out for him, but he didn't mind. it was always so rewarding, working with you. dazai thinks of all the limits he can breach, all the lines he can cross. he could touch you more, he could plant more seeds of suspicion. he thinks about helping you out first, whisking you out of particularly risky missions, and protecting you from unpleasant people. after that, wouldn't it feel so natural for him to insist he should walk you home?

and would you be so upset if he were to hold you tightly, closely, if it was only because he was hiding the both of you from a pursuer? would you be doubtful the next time he told you that yet another friend was planning something evil, or hesitate when he claimed that a heinous crime was in the area and that you should obviously stay with him?

maybe it was the paranoia that brought him to do this. dazai peers over his glass at your frozen figure by the doorway, wondering what your next words would be.

"dazai," you begin, confusion lingering in your words, "i wasn't expecting to see you here."

he shrugs, swirling the little liquid left in his—your—glass, before leaning forwards and placing it down.

"you weren't at work."

you blink slowly, "is that why you're here?"

"why didn't you come?" the actual question he wants to ask is left unspoken—was it because of me? he's not worried, not as much as he is cautious. it would be a shame to lose everything he's worked on all this time just because he pushed you a little too far.

"i just needed to take my mind off things after everything that's happened. but dazai," the corners of your lips tug downwards ever so slightly, "is that why you're here?"

"i thought," he says, his voice the most serious you've ever heard it, "that something had happened to you. you were worried about being bugged, and then the next day, you just...don't show up."

the hand around your bag strap tightens, and you straighten up.

"i didn't realize," you mutter, "i should have said something."

"you should have," he agrees.

"i'm sorry," your voice trembles ever so slightly, and he delights in the way it wavers. he loves the effect he has on you.

"it's alright," dazai smiles, benevolent and warm, as though you were in the wrong here, and not him, who made himself all too comfortable in a space that wasn't his, "i'm just glad you're safe."

dazai, again, thinks of cruel, brash mafioso and frightening, deceitful strangers. he thinks of mocking snarls and vicious threats. when he sees the way you look at him, hopeful and expectant, he finds that you had come a long, long way already.

#yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bsd x reader #yandere bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs ff #bungo stray dogs x you #yandere bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x you #yandere dazai bsd #yandere dazai x reader #yandere dazai osamu #yandere dazai #req 🐟 #bsd 🐟 #os 🐟 #fic 🐟 #dazai 🐟

[redskull199987]

Homecoming

Hobie Brown x female!reader

Word count:1.7k

Warnings:slightly getting hurt, some nudity, but it's fluffy in general 

Summary: atsp!spoilers, this sets place before the major events of atsp, but it still features some things from the movie, so spoiler warning to be sure. 

You were the one and only Spider-Woman in your dimension for about three years, when you met him. Hobie Brown. It didn't take long for you to join the Spider Society. And it took even less time for you and Hobie to fall in love…

Masterlist

Today was probably the worst day, you had in weeks. It felt like everything that could possibly go wrong, eventually went wrong. 

It was supposed to be an easy mission. Go in, get the villian, get out. But obviously, it didn't work out that way.

Miguel had teamed you up with Gwen and Pav today. Not that you minded, but you usually went on missions with Hobie, so it felt unusual. 

Nevertheless, everything went perfectly fine, until you were supposed to leave the universe to get the villian to the HQ. 

You had no idea why and Miguel had yet to figure it out, but your watch malfunctioned and send you on a journey through several universes, you weren't supposed to visit. It took the entire day and finally after fighting off one too many villians, that weren't yours, Miguel finally got to you, stopping you from helplessly traveling around. 

After you and Miguel returned to the HQ, Pav and Gwen immediately went to apologize to you, while latching onto your arm, pulling you to the infirmary. You told them over and over again, that it was not their fault, but you knew your friends. They were always worried. That's what friends are there for after all, you thought to yourself, as the nurse inspected your wounds. 

Fortunately they weren't that serious. You just had a laceration on your head from a pretty nasty fight with a Doc Ock variant and some scrapes and bruises here and there from the day of running around random universes. 

"We're really sorry, Y/N", Gwen mumbled and petted your shoulder, as your wound was being cleaned. 

"It alright, Gwen. Don't worry, you guys", you smiled and nudged Pav slightly. The boy was sitting next to you, leaning his head against your shoulder. He was yours and Hobie's best friend here by far. Sometimes it felt like you two had adopted him. 

Instead of trying to talk to him, you just ruffled his hair and smiled at him. That seemed to lift his spirits at least a little bit.

"Should we take you home?", he offered, as you were finally dismissed, a bandage adorning your head now. 

"Nah, I'm staying over at Hobie's tonight, so don't worry.", you smiled, promising the two of them that you were fine. 

You were about to say your goodbyes as you saw the pained look on Gwen's face. It took you a minute, but then you realized that she probably didn't have anywhere to stay for the night. She couldn't return to her universe and she didn't want to disturb you and Hobie. 

"Hey Gwen", You said and as you hugged her, you pushed the keys for your apartment into her hands, "You can crash at mine today, if you want." 

She smiled thankfully and hugged you once more, much tighter this time. 

"Thanks", she mumbled into your shoulder. 

You only petted her back:"Of course. Oh and, leftovers are in the refrigerator if you get hungry." 

"I really appreciate it, Y/N", Gwen said once more before finally opening a portal to your world and stepping through it, waving one last time at you and Pav before she finally disappeared. 

"And you're sure, you'll be fine?", Pav asked, as you hugged him now too.

You only chuckled:"I'm fine, don't worry." 

He nodded understandingly:"Say hy to Hobie from me." 

"Will do", you laughed and waved at him as he left to his world. 

You Were alone now. The HQ was pretty much empty at this time of the day. The only light you could still see came from Miguel's office. He practically never left. You debated for a second, if you should go to him and thank him again, but you decided against it. Your aching muscles screaming for a bed. 

Finally pulling your eyes of off Miguels office, you looked at your watch and hoped that it wouldn't malfunction again. You cautiously tapped in the code for Hobie's universe and after a few seconds, a portal opened in front of you. 

"Here goes nothing", you mumbled to yourself, pulling your mask back over your head and stepping through the portal. 

You didn't even realized that you had closed your eyes, until you opened them again. Much to your liking, you were greeted by the familiar city of London, adorned by various street arts, you had grown to love over the months. 

You breathed in the cold night air, as you made your way through the city, swinging from building to building. You heard the sirens of the police and thought about stepping in whatever fight was going on, but for once in your life, you just wanted to get home. 

After a couple of minutes of more swinging around, you finally reached Hobie's apartment. And in typical Spidey Manner, you entered through his bedroom window. His room was shrouded in darkness , but you could see light coming from the bathroom. 

"Hobie!?", you called out for him, as you stumbled over to his bed, flopping down shamelessly. 

"Babe?", you saw his head peeking out from the bathroom, a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. As soon as he saw you, he discarded it and made his way over to you. 

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?", he asked, seemingly worried, "Gwen told me about what happened but I couldn't come help you, I was on a mission with Peter B." 

You finally sat up, pulling your mask down, but before Hobie could panic about the bandage on your forehead, you assured him, that it was fine. 

"Don't worry", you mumbled, "I'm fine, just tired." 

"C'mon", he smiled and nudged your shoulder, as he stood up again. You slowly followed him to the bathroom. 

You squinted your eyes at the bright light, leaning your head against Hobie's shoulder. 

"Pav says hy", you mumbled, as he helped you peel out of your suit. 

Hobie chuckled, knowing that your friend would've found a way to greet him, even if they didn't see each other today. 

"Of course, he did", Hobie grinned, as you had finally made it out of your suit. 

"Wanna take a shower?", he asked. 

"You joining me?", you smirked, a bit of your cheekiness returning now that you were reunited with your boyfriend. 

"If you ask like that, my love", Hobie smiled, turning the shower on and discarding his t-shirt and sweats on the floor. You watched as he stopped under the steaming water, letting it run over his head with a sigh. 

It didn't take you long to join him. You leaned into him, as the water ran down your body. 

"Your bandage", Hobie smiled, pointing at the soaked gauze on your head. 

"Can probably take it off now anyway", you muttered. 

"Here, Let me-", Hobie mumbled, carefully taking it off for you and throwing it out of the shower, perfectly hitting the trash can thanks to his spider senses. 

"Thanks", you mumbled, lifting your arms around his neck. You softly kissed him on the cheek, feeling Hobie's hands rise to rest on your waist. 

"I missed you today", Hobie mumbled, as he rested his chin on top of your head, starting to slowly sway to a non existent tune. 

"Missed you too", you agreed, burying your head even deeper in his shoulder. 

You heard him chuckle at your antics and he lightly pulled back to look at you. You had barely time to say anything, as he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your lips. You sighed contently. Finally feeling his lips on yours again, made the whole day suddenly seem worth it. 

Almost out of breath, you finally parted. You only looked up at Hobie and smiled. He had a dreamy expression on his face. Like he was in heaven. Something that you rarely saw. 

"Let's go to sleep", you said, pecking his lips one more time, before turning the shower off and stepping out. 

You almost instantly felt a shiver run down your neck at the cold air, but Hobie came to safe you, wrapping a towel around you from behind. 

"Thanks", you smiled, drying yourself. 

After finishing your evening routine and getting into comfortable clothes, Hobie had of course given you some of his, you finally found yourself in his bed, snuggling up to each other. Both of your suits Were discarded on the floor, Hobie's guitar was standing at the other end of the room and for once in a while, you felt like a normal human being. 

"I love you", you mumbled into Hobie's chest, as he hugged you tightly. 

"Love ya too, Hun", Hobie smiled and softly kissed the top of your head, "Now sleep, you deserve it." 

You wanted to complain, but your tired eyes voted against it, so you only got comfortable, pulling Hobie even closer to you and it didn't take you long before you drifted off into a peaceful slumber, Hobie not taking long before doing the same. 

Bonus:

As you woke up, you were confused, as to why you didn't find Hobie next to you. It took you a few minutes, for your body to completely wake up, before you realized that you were laying on the floor. You sat up, looking around confused. You couldn't help but giggle, as you spotted the culprit, who had pushed you off of the bed. 

You saw Hobie laying in the bed, his arms and legs spread out like he was a seastar, snoring softly. His pillow was laying next to you on the floor, the blanket barely covering him still. 

With a small grunt, you pushed yourself up, but instead of going to the couch in the living room or starting to make breakfast, you simply laid down on top of Hobie. He shuffled for a second, but eventually pulled your body closer. You nuzzled your head back into his shoulder, enjoying the slow morning with your boyfriend. 

#Spider-Man #Spider-Man edit #Spider-Man fic #Spider-Man os #spider man atsv #Atsp #across the spiderverse #Marvel #marvel studios #marvel comics #Hobie #Hobie Brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #Hobie Brown fic #Hobie Brown os #Spider punk #Miles morales #Miguel o'hara #Gwen Stacy #pavitr prabhakar #peter b parker #edit #oneshot #x reader #female!reader #female reader

[dracowars]

Hi hi, how are you? Could you write one where y/n is Draco's girlfriend, but she and Harry, who are best friends, end up arguing and he casts a dangerous spell on her? And when she arrives at the infirmary, still passed out, they discover she is pregnant?

best bad friend | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 1,0k

summary: where y/n discovers something that will change draco’s and y/n’s life forever

a/n: i just wanted to clarify that the characters here are all in 7th year and thus of legal age

warnings: angst, violence, mentions of pregnancy

universe: harry potter

“Harry, if you would just listen to me for one second-”

Your vocal cords can’t manage more than that when in the next moment you are hit with Stupefy by your opponent, whom you also call your best friend. With force, you are thrown against the wall and fall into unconsciousness right away. Only when you are able to open your eyes again do you realize what actually happened, what Harry did.

What he did to you, his best friend.

The bright light that streams into the room through the large windows dazzles you a little, and the slight breeze that gently shakes the white curtains reaches your ears, shaking the dark chandelier on the ceiling. The beige brick walls of the hospital wing – you realized it is the hospital wing once you sat up in your hospital bed, startled – express a coldness and you quickly notice that you seem to be the only patient right now. The other beds around you are all empty.

Exhausted, you massage your temples with your fingertips, the impact seemingly hit you harder than you originally thought. As you try to stop the pounding in your head, your gaze falls on the two wooden chairs that are close to your bed, as if someone had been sitting there just mere seconds ago.

Surprised, you look around again and do not move a single muscle, but you have to accept the fact that you can’t even hear any sounds from outside. Sighing deeply, you lean back into the uncomfortable mattress and place your palm on your forehead, closing your eyes and reflecting on what happened that transported you into the hospital wing of the castle.

Maybe telling Harry about your relationship with Draco Malfoy had not been such a good idea after all. Especially not when he found it out by himself first and only then did you decide to actually tell him about your relationship status. On the other hand, he would still not know if he had not caught the both of you kissing in an empty hallway. Even though you have sworn to never hide anything from each other, you betrayed him.

Best friends should not betray each other, you think. And yet you did exactly that.

It was perfectly understandable that Harry was angry and upset about this. You would never have blamed him for that. But throwing you across the room with a dangerous curse, ending up in the freaking hospital wing, all alone? Rather despicable.

You are racking your brains about how to face Harry the next time you see him when you are released from this prison that is your hospital bed when suddenly the heavy door finally opens and none other than Harry enters. Well, at least his head is peeking around the corner, and when your eyes meet for a moment, it looks like he would like to vanish into thin air right this second.

Understandably so.

“Y/N, you are awake!”, he says happily, but can’t hide the insecurity within his voice. “I- I will be right back.”

And just like that you are as alone again as you were since waking up, causing you to roll your eyes while crossing your arms in front of your chest in despair. Harry will definitely not get away from you that easily.

Harry does not take long to return, though he does bring Madam Pomfrey with him on the way back, the nurse greeting you with a friendly smile and looking you up and down as if you have lost all your limbs. When she asks you how you are feeling, you only reply that your head is buzzing. Which is the truth, but you honestly do not feel like talking to her about your emotional state right now after you were brought here by your best friend.

Obviously, you are not feeling well.

“If you allow me, I would like to talk to you alone for a few moments, Ms. Y/L/N”, Madam Pomfrey remarks after realizing that you do not feel like talking to her, or anyone at this point, about what happened. However, no one could have prepared you for what she would share with you in private.

At first you want to laugh and deny what she claims happened. That is completely and absolutely ridiculous, you think to yourself. Then, as you look into her serious eyes, your mood immediately changed, and you suddenly feel nauseous. The ground is pulled away from under your feet all of a sudden and you start falling and keep falling and just can’t stop falling. The pounding in your head gets louder, more unbearable by the second, and is now accompanied by a loud beeping in your ears.

Without knowing it and without being able to stop it, tears flow down your cheeks as your world falls apart in the blink of an eye. First, Madam Pomfrey tries to calm you down, to encourage you, but you do not want to hear her words. They will not change anything anyway. When she notices this as well, she finally gives you your space and leaves.

The silence bother you even more, however, since you are suddenly all alone with your thoughts and feelings. The moment there is a knock on the door and Harry enters the hospital wing, you break down completely. Immediately, Harry is at your side, holding you tight in his arms, trying to soothe you with whispers and repeated apologies.

The fact that he attacked you with a spell out of anger is honestly the least of your problems right ow, which is why you let him hold you, why you allow him to support you as your best friend. Everything you can think about in this moment is filled with pure darkness, and if it were not for Draco, who storms inside after hearing about the incident, completely distressed, the darkness would have taken you in whole.

As soon as you find yourself in a loveable embrace, after Harry willingly released you, Draco encourages you and confesses his love for you over a thousand times, over and over again.

“We can get through this, darling. Together”, Draco whispers softly and places several kisses against your temple, kissing away some of your streaming tears. “If anyone can do it, it’s us.”

#draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy ff #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy os #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy one shots #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco angst #draco fluff #draco x female reader #draco x y/n #draco imagine #draco imagines #draco os #draco one shot #draco one shots #draco ff #draco fic #draco fanfiction #draco fanfic #hp imagine #harry potter fanfiction

[martybaker]

Only Fools Rush In

So the setup for this is that Hob and Dream are professors in their forties at the same university, they’re friends who are very much pining for each other. They’re not oblivious, just taking things slow. Unfortunately, some meddling students and staff didn’t get the memo 😅

There will be more parts to this fic - as the word count kept running away from me I just decided to split it up and post the parts separately, however, I cannot promise when the next part will be completed.

——

Part 1

“Seriously? Where are your gloves? Hat? Scarf? Literally anything to keep you warm??”

Dream scoffs at getting scolded upon sight, taking the few more steps necessary to join Hob at the entrance to the outdoor ice skating rink.

“I’m warm enough,” he argues, earning a disbelieving look from Hob, who takes off his own gloves and grabs Dream’s hand, finding it cold, as expected. Dream snatches his hand away with a petulant pout.

Hob laughs at him. “You’re freezing! And you’re ridiculous! Having a fashion style to uphold is all fine and dandy, but dressed like this you’re just asking to catch a cold!”

“I thought I was here to try ice-skating, not to get a lecture on the way I dress,” Dream grumbles. “Besides, won’t I warm up by the activity? All this fuss is unnecessary.”

He makes for the door of the building where ice skates can be rented, with a ‘the sooner to get this over with, the better’ attitude.

Hob follows, raising an eyebrow at him: “Oh, Mr. Confident thinks he’ll be skating circles around me in no time? We’ll see how you’ll feel about the lack of gloves and padded clothing when you’ll end up on your arse, time and time again!”

Dream rolls his eyes. “I’m sure that was your exact intention when picking this activity, making a fool of me, all for your amusement.”

“Hey, I won the bet fair and square! Didn’t you have a blast when you won the last one, making me shave my stubble clean and draw a fake beard on? The students weren’t able to look at me in class without bursting into laughter!”

Dream cannot help but grin at the memory. “You were able to captivate them with the material nonetheless.”

“Yeah, but I had to work twice as hard to shift their attention away from the beard!”

—

They keep bickering as they rent a pair of skates each, finding a spot on the bench to change into them. Hob demonstrates how to properly tie the skates.

After Dream’s finished, he checks Dream’s work, grabbing onto the skates and testing the wiggle room.

“It needs to be tighter. Tied loosely and your ankles would move about, unsupported. You could get hurt.”

Dream nods, listening carefully. Hob is the expert here, or at least the one with lots of experience to draw from.

“Here, let me help you,” Hob slips from the bench down to his knees, Dream’s foot held in between them, and reties his laces, pulling them tight. Dream blinks rapidly, surprised by the action.

“There, that’s better,” Hob says, looking up and laughing at whatever expression it is that he finds on Dream’s face. “What? No one has ever tied your shoes for you before?”

Dream huffs. “Of course not,” he says, cheeks a little rosier than before, and lowers his gaze down, as if to inspect Hob’s work.

Luckily, Hob doesn’t tease more, he slowly stands up and then offers Dream an inviting hand. “Ready to rock and roll?”

Dream sighs. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” and takes Hob’s hand.

—

The ice rink isn’t too crowded, which is good. Firstly because they have room to move slowly on the ice, with Hob skating backwards and helping Dream learn the ropes without the danger of being run over by someone. And secondly, it means there are less witnesses to Dream’s mortifying struggles.

“Why, again, is this considered fun?” He grumbles, letting Hob pull him forward slowly, feeling extremely embarrassed as he can’t figure out how to move forward on his own without turning it into awkward stumbling rather than skating.

Hob laughs, squeezing Dream’s hands tighter.

“It is fun, it just takes some time to get into it. You’ve gotta lean forward a little, you’re too stiff and upright,” he advises.

Hob explains and demonstrates the right motions to him, over and over with great patience. Dream tries his best to follow the advice, and after a while, it does get better. Hob praises him and asks if he wants to try on his own for a bit, but Dream gives him an anxious look.

“Hmm, maybe you could try with the skating aid?” Hob suggests.

Dream grimaces. “Over my dead body,” he says, prompting Hob to burst into laughter again.

“Okay, got it. No skating aid for grown-up Dream. How about you skate near the boards and I'll be on your other side, so you could have something to grab on when you feel unstable?”

Dream nods.

Hob moves into position on his left side. Dream skates forward a few feet, wobbles and immediately grabs onto Hob’s arm with both hands, holding on for dear life.

Hob chuckles. “That’s alright, you’re doing great! Mistakes and falls are an inevitable part of the learning process!”

Dream glares at him. “Thanks for the tip, professor Gadling.”

Hob grins. “I’m no professor here, just an ice-skating teacher.”

“Whatever. Hold my hand,” Dream commands, and Hob happily obliges.

They do a few rounds like that, and it’s…actually not bad. Dream is getting used to the mechanics of the movement and he’s not that anxious with a steady support by his side.

He tries speeding up, and it works. He maybe even starts to feel a little bit of that excitement that attracts people to practice this activity regularly.

“You’re doing amazing!” Hob says, and Dream cannot help but preen.

He raises an eyebrow at Hob: “What were you saying earlier, about me landing on my arse again and again?”

Hob laughs. “Clearly, you have a good teacher!”

Dream snorts. “Clearly, I am a good student.”

“That you are,” Hob says with a smile, and pulls Dream to skate faster.

And faster.

And Dream stumbles on uneven ice, falling backwards and taking Hob with him.

They both land on their arses.

Hob, of course, reacts to this with laughter. Dream really doesn’t know where that man takes all that optimism from.

“Sorry, my bad, I went too fast!”

“Yes, you do that,” Dream mutters under his nose.

“Pardon?” Hob asks, brows furrowed as he picks himself up from the ice and holds out a hand for Dream.

Dream looks at the outstretched hand but doesn’t take it. “You’ll have to have patience with me, Hob. I don’t have the guts for barrelling into things headfirst anymore.”

“It’s generally recommended to avoid barrelling into anything while you’re ice skating,” Hob jokes. Dream gives him a look and this time Hob does catch on that Dream’s not talking about ice-skating anymore.

His gaze softens. “You can take all the time you need, Dream, I’m not in a rush.”

He plops down onto the ice next to Dream, back against the boards. “Wanna just chill here for a while?”

Dream gives him an unimpressed look. “We can’t sit here, we’re in people’s way.”

“Eh, they’ll make do for a minute.”

Dream shakes his head and pulls them both up to stand again. “I should get back on the horse, shouldn’t I?”

Hob grins. “I think that’s a different sport, love.”

Dream rolls his eyes. “It’s called an idiom, you twit.”

Dream dusts off his gloved hands and picks up the hat that he was wearing. Hob actually forced his own gloves and hat on him before they started and Dream has to admit to himself that he’s glad for them now. Of course, he’s not about to voice that and give Hob the satisfaction. The pompom on top of the hat is silly, but it does keep Dream’s ears warm, so he’s willing to commit this small fashion crime in the name of comfort.

To top it all off, Hob’s knitted Doctor Who scarf is now also in Dream’s possession. He has no objections to that one, though it does look better on Hob.

He would feel guilty for leaving Hob to freeze but the man’s actually wearing a big puffer jacket, zipped up to his chin. And his cheeks are endearingly rosy when he smiles at Dream, which is also, uhm, something.

“Shall we?” Hob asks, and Dream reaches for his hand again. This time, Hob doesn’t pull, but matches Dream’s own tempo.

#dreamling #dream x hob #hob x dream #the sandman #sandman #my writing #dreamling fic #sandman fic #I would tag this as conscious slowborn #as in they both have feelings and are aware the other one os on the same page #but they decide to take it slow #unfortunately meddling coworkers and students are there to create chaos #more in next part

[alloftheimaginesblog]

feelings {peter parker tasm}

plot: you and peter have been friends since you were both knee height, now that you're both mid twenties you're busy navigating life and also the fact that you're both hopelessly in love with the other.

character: peter parker (tasm) x reader

requested by anon

Aunt May had always had her hopes for the two of you. She could see it coming from a mile away, honestly. She had raised Peter and had practically helped to raise you too since you were always over at the Parkers' house from when you could talk. She watched as you and Peter's friendship blossomed, watched as you helped each other through school, dealing with bullies and crushes and exams. She watched as Peter got and lost his first girlfriend and watched as you supported him through the loss of Gwen. He was there after your first relationship ended in turmoil and tears. She watched as you both got jobs and got places in college, both busy and yet both still making the effort to see each other. She watched as neither of you realised but you both started to fall in love. She had always known that there was something there.

She had tried to tell Peter just to help guide him to you when he was seventeen but Uncle Ben had told her to stop meddling in their nephew's life. "He'll figure it out in his own time, May. They'll realise soon enough." So Aunt May dropped it and continued to watch from the side-lines with a secret smile every time she saw the two of you.

Peter's leg was tapping away as he worked, he could never sit still, "You good, Parker?" You asked him. You were both busy with essays for your separate college courses but you always liked to work together. Ever since you were little you liked doing homework and the likes together. There was something about his presence, it calmed you and helped you focus.

Peter rubbed at his eyes tiredly, the stubble from neglecting to shave for the last few days was a feature you quite liked about him. Hope he keeps that beard, grows it out a bit more maybe. You frowned when you caught yourself thinking it, okay weird. He was your friend - your best friend - nothing more, nothing less. "I'm fine," Peter sighed, breaking you out of your thoughts, "hungry though... Wanna go for lunch?"

You laughed, "Think you mean dinner?" You teased, showing him the time on your phone, "We've been at this for hours."

"Shit, really? Wow... I better give Aunt May a call, let her know I'm okay. You know how she worries."

"Can you ask if I can come for dinner-"

"You're coming." Peter said, deadpan, as he called her, "Hey Aunt May, it's me. Me and (y/n) have been studying and doing essays since 11am and now it's nearly 5pm!" Peter's face scrunched, "What? No. We were writing essays - just writing essays."

You packed your bag as he finished his conversation, "She must've had a drink of something strong," Peter said as he hung up the phone, "She was convinced that we weren't studying. She kept hinting that we were doing something else like making out or something like that! Insane, right?!" Peter's laughter was loud and you didn't know why that hurt so much. Is it so awful to even think? Am I that unappealing to you? You forced a laugh as these thoughts spun through your head, "I mean, that's insane, right?"

"Absolutely." You nodded, smile falling as you grabbed your bags. Why did you care so much? You had no idea. You didn't know why you were so hurt by his comments. Peter was your friend, that was all... right? Surely there wasn't anything else there, right? Right? You cleared your throat, "Uh, you know, I actually forgot I have plans to get dinner with my family today, Pete." It was a lie and Peter could tell. He always could tell, he didn't need enhanced senses to know when you were lying.

"Oh," he frowned, "Are you okay?"

You nodded quickly, "Fine, yeah. I gotta go though, I'll see you later. Give May a hug from me." Quickly you darted out of the library before he could ask you anything else. Peter watched you go, confused and a little hurt. You had lied to him and that upset him more than anything. Why were you lying to him? Had he hurt your feelings? Peter didn't know but he was going to figure it out.

You had been avoiding Peter a little bit for the rest of the day. You were just trying to clear your head. You'd come to the realisation that you liked him... a lot. You didn't know when the feelings started or why today you were realising it but you realised as you couldn't stop thinking about him. You couldn't get Peter and his dumb laugh and stupid haircut out of your head.

Peter had been calling and texting you for the last few hours and was barely getting a response so he knew where you'd be. He knew that when you got upset and things got overwhelming, you'd be on your apartment buildings roof watching as the sun set. You knew that he'd find you, you didn't mind, you knew that sooner or later this conversation would have to happen.

He found you in your usual spot, sitting with a blanket and some coffee, "Hey," he said quietly, offering you a smile and extending his hand to show you his peace offering, "god you a donut from Sal's that you love..."

With a smile and a 'thanks', you took the donut from him and began to eat it. He sat beside you, stretching his legs out and dropping his bag to the side, "I think we need to talk," he said after a few moments.

You nodded as you finished your donut, "Yeah," you said, clearing your throat, "yeah we do."

"Look, I don't know what I did earlier but I'm sorry-"

You didn't know where the sudden burst of anger came from but the words were being yelled from your mouth before you could even realise, "Is the thought of being with me so repulsive?!"

Peter jumped back, taken aback, "Wh- What?!"

"Earlier!" You snapped, jumping up making him stand up too, "You thought it was hilarious and insane when May suggested we be together! Here I am realising that I care about you and you say shit like that- Shit." You slammed your hand over your mouth, whirling away from him as your heart hammered hard in your chest. You hadn't mean to explode like this but he'd really upset you earlier and you just couldn't keep it in.

"Are you saying that you've got feelings for me?" Peter asked, voice soft and gentle; calm despite his racing heart and despite your previous tone, "(y/n), speak to me."

"I-I-I don't know!" You wailed, head in your hands, "I don't know! I- I think so? I mean, I've just been feeling stuff that I never normally feel and I look at you and I get literal butterflies. I thought that shit was made up in Disney movies but I find myself smiling when you say my name, I feel excited when you smile at me... Yeah," you laughed incredulously, "I'm saying I've got feelings for you."

Peter was silent for a few seconds as he took in all of what you just said and then he said the most heart-breaking thing he could've said, "Oh."

And there it was. Peter's reaction. Oh. Your heart sank. Of course he didn't feel the same, of course he didn't. Why would he? The two of you were best friends so of course he didn't see you like that and now it was all fucked. You had just ruined your two decades long friendship over developing feelings for him. If you hadn't told him, if you'd have just shut up and kept quiet then you wouldn't have fucked everything up; things would be normal and you'd both be happy.

You pulled back immediately, putting your walls back up to save yourself any further embarrassment or upset, "I'm sorry, uh, never mind! Ignore everything I just said, it was a joke! Ha! Got you..." You gave a pathetic attempt laugh as tears burned at your eyes, "It was all just a joke!" Peter seemed to come back to reality as he saw you were getting upset. He said your name but you were shaking your head telling him to forget it, it was all a big joke, a laugh, it was fine. Peter knew that it wasn't a joke, he knew that what you'd said was real and he felt awful about upsetting you.

"(y/n), stop," he said loudly, cutting you off of your 'it was just a joke' ramblings, "I'm sorry for saying 'oh' I was surprised that's all! It wasn't a negative reaction or me rejecting you."

You looked at him, cheeks burning and tears slowly making their way down your cheeks, "Then what does it mean?"

"It means... holy shit, I can't believe you have feelings for me. I never thought you'd see me like that!" He grinned widely, "I've had a massive crush on you for forever."

Your jaw dropped. He had a crush on you? "Then why'd you say oh you stupid oaf!" You hissed but the corners of your lips twitched upwards.

"I-I was surprised! I never thought you'd ever like me back!"

"Of course I do," you said, "Pete, you've always been there for me. Always been so kind and you're so funny and... I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner."

He smiled at you, "I didn't think you'd ever feel the same... You're way outta my league, you always have been." He sat on the stone wall, patting it so you'd sit next to him, "We've been through a lot together, haven't we?"

You laughed, "You could say that again."

Silence fell and all of a sudden you were fifteen again crying into Peter's arms after your first boyfriend broke up with you for someone else. Then you were six and fake marrying Peter whilst Aunt May shook her head laughing. Then you were twenty getting into college and celebrating, ending up hungover and crashing at Peter's apartment for a night. Then you were eighteen finding out that he was Spider-Man and fainting from the shock of it.

He nudged you, breaking you out of your thoughts, "So what do we do now?" He asked quietly.

You shrugged, "I guess you take me out on a date," you suggested with a smile, "that little Italian place downtown. The one with the garlic twists."

"A date?" Peter smiled, "I can do that."

You looked at him, turning your body to face him, as his brown eyes caught the sun. You'd always known that he was handsome but my god, it was like you were seeing him in such a different light. The way his eyes looked like dark honey in the sunlight, the way his lips quirked upwards, the way the wind tousled his hair to perfection.

Peter couldn't take his eyes from your face. "God, you're so beautiful," he murmured quietly, eyes going between your eyes and your lips, "Can I-"

You cut him off by pulling him to meet your lips. It didn't feel weird. It didn't feel unnatural or anything like that... It felt... normal; right. It felt good. It was a simple kiss, only lasting a few seconds, but it was the best kiss you'd ever had. It was so full of emotion, so gentle and sweet and soft and you just melted into his embrace.

When you pulled away, neither of you could keep the stupid lovesick grins from your faces, "Aunt May is going to have a field day with this one," Peter laughed softly, "she's been trying to get us together for years."

#one shot #os #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #peter parker x you #peter parker fic #peter parker tasm #tasm imagine #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter imagines #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter #marvel #spider-man #spiderman imagine #spider-man imagine #imagine #reader insert

[glorfindel-of-imladris]

In the House of the Golden Flower, there is a small falls that juts out of a crack along the mountains surrounding the hidden city.

Upon one of the larger rocks beside the pool sits Glorfindel, sketching, as he sometimes would, and this is how Ecthelion finds him.

"Who is that?" he asks, peeking over Glorfindel’s shoulder.

Glorfindel, far too used to his friend coming and going in his house unannounced, paused for but a moment to acknowledge the other's presence before continuing with his delicate task.

The face on the page is no one Ecthelion knows. He is an Elf, that much is clear, with dark hair, an intelligent face, and the most piercing eyes Ecthelion has ever seen. Ecthelion prides himself in knowing the ins and outs of Gondolin, for he values no task above the protection of their hidden valley. He is therefore certain that this Elf is not one of theirs.

"I met him in a dream," says Glorfindel. His charcoal tip tenderly traces the outline of a cheekbone.

“I see.”

Ecthelion makes himself comfortable, sitting beside Glorfindel as he nudges the other with a teasing elbow. “Is this how the people of Gondolin are put out of their misery? Our most eligible bachelor finally caught—and right under our very noses! In a dream!”

Glorfindel snorts. “Stop it. I am hardly the most eligible when you are also yet to marry.”

“You are right; we must therefore keep your newly found unavailability a secret, lest they remember to think about me.”

Glorfindel fondly shakes his head.

More seriously this time, Ecthelion asks, "What is he like?"

His friend thinks for a moment. "Intimidating."

"Intimidating like Maeglin at a party or intimidating like Egalmoth when asked a stupid question?"

"Intimidating like no one. I daresay he gives Egalmoth a run for his money."

“Huh. Didn't think you were into that."

Ecthelion watches the way his friend’s eyes go back to the page. He can hardly recognize Glorfindel like this, so long a brother-in-arms whom he never once saw regard another the way he is now regarding this mysterious dream Elf. But he is certain of the color on Glorfindel's cheeks, catches the nearly subtle way he bites his lip, a smile threatening to break.

Fondly, Glorfindel admits, "Neither did I."

#fic snippet #wip snippet #may as well share some snippets here when I struggle to finish fics 🥲 #sequel supposedly to A Place Between Time and Sorrow #where Ecthelion meets Erestor #sort of #Ecthelion stumbling on Glorestor os one of my favourite things now lol #Glorfindel #Ecthelion #Glorestor

[taevbears]

Pandora's Box

Keep a fire burning, however small; however hidden

⤑ pairing: Hoseok x reader ⤑ genre: angst, one-shot ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 3.1k ⤑ warnings: ANGST, mention of alcohol and drug use, depression, self-sabotage and unhealthy coping, non-explicit sex, unhappy ending. ⤑ note: Happy Hobi Day! I've been wanting to write a JITB-inspired fic for Hobi since forever (it's probably my favorite solo concept), and this idea has been sitting in my drafts since forever lol. I initially wanted it to be a scary one-shot, but it ended up being a very sad one-shot instead lol. I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!

You notice it as soon as you walk in. 

Sitting on the coffee table is a box. Simple in design. Colored white.

You know that opening it, however, will unleash a whole myriad of demons you’re not ready to face.

The first is the one called Lust.

The fateful night you met Jung Hoseok is a blur. Music at the party you wound up in is so loud, you could feel the vibrations of the deep base through the walls. A hip-hop song is playing, but you could barely make out the lyrics over the thrumming booms of the stereo.

A haze of grey smoke fills the room, distinct with the acrid scent of cigarettes and weed. In the fog, you’ve found your friend sitting on the couch, curled up against the guy she’s been dating on and off. At the moment, the two of them are very much on again, making out with little regard to everyone and everything else around them.

In the meantime, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve refilled the red, plastic cup in your hands, downing hard liquor and letting the alcohol burn your throat, but you go into the kitchen to get more.

That’s when you notice he’s been looking at you. When you catch his gaze, he offers a friendly smile. And when you return it, he approaches you.

“I’m Hoseok,” he introduces himself, raising his voice so you could hear him over the music and the chatter. He stands close enough that you could smell his cologne. A mix of woody tones with notes of spice and citrus. “What’s your name?”

He’s cute, you think, as you tell him your name. And funny, you add to yourself, as he later says something to make you laugh.

You like him, you realize as your hand finds his and you start to lead him upstairs to look for an empty room.

You don’t remember much about the night you met Hoseok. Can’t recall a word you said to each other, or what he did to make you fall for him so fast.

But even in your drunken haze, you remember the heat of his kiss, the way his fingers teasingly slipped beneath your clothes as you eagerly unbutton his pants, and the subtle bite of his lip when you push him to the bed and strip off the rest of your clothes.

“I like you, Hoseok,” you confess, cheeks flushed. Probably from the alcohol.

Hoseok chuckles.

He grabs your elbow and pulls you closer until you’re hovering over him. He kisses you one more time, so sweetly you think you could melt. Then, he suddenly flips you over with your back to the bed. A glint of mischief is in his eyes as he leans down over you.

“I think I like you too.”

The second is Greed.

After that night, you and Hoseok met up several times.

The first couple of times were almost repeats of the first night. You find each other at a party, seeming to share some of the same circles of friends and acquaintances. You could barely see straight when you hear Hoseok calling you, and you burst out in laughter because you’re genuinely surprised he remembers your name.

“Of course I remember you,” he assures you, flashing a bright, flirty smile. It almost falters with nerves when he asks, “Do you remember me?”

“How could I forget?” you tease back, taking his hand in yours again.

It feels better the second time. And by the third, when you’re just waking up from a throbbing headache, you’re surprised to see he’s still in the room with you, long after the party is over.

“I can give you a ride home if you want,” he offers. You have too much of a migraine to decline.

By the time he pulls up at your place, he gives you his number. Just in case you need to call him for another ride or anything else.

“Thanks, Hoseok.”

“No problem,” he replies, and there’s a look in his eyes that makes you feel uncomfortable. It’s kind. It’s hopeful. It’s something you’re not quite expecting from him. “Be sure to call me, okay?”

“Sure, Hoseok. Thanks again.”

He leaves it at that.

Even though you said you would, you don’t call him. Not until your friend dramatically breaks up with her boyfriend again and ditches you at a party out of town. Everyone else in your contacts is busy that night with work and other obligations. When you see his number, you hesitate for a brief moment before you tap to call.

“Hello?”

You instantly regret it. He sounds like he’s asleep.

“Actually, never mind. I can just call someone else,” you backtrack out loud, thinking, perhaps, a taxi or something would be a better idea. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“No, it’s fine,” he assures you, seeming to realize who is calling him in the middle of the night. “What’s wrong? Where are you?”

Hoseok drives all the way to get you. Even with the empty roads, it’s at least an hour drive one-way. It’s a sobering moment when he finally pulls up and greets you with a warm smile.

“Are you hungry? I can buy you food and pay for gas,” you offer once you’re in the car. You feel like you owe him that much.

“How about a date instead?” Hoseok counters, and again, he has that hopeful look in his eyes. “I’m not doing anything tomorrow night.”

If there was a perfect moment to tell him you aren’t interested in a relationship right now – that all the partying and drinking is to numb your mind from your own problems and stresses – this would be it. Clearly, he wouldn’t go out of his way and come this far if he isn’t interested in you.

And Hoseok seems like a good guy. You shouldn’t be stringing him along like this.

But you’re selfish. And that selfish part of you smiles and says, “Sounds good. What should I wear tomorrow?”

Next is Envy.

Jung Hoseok, as you’ve learned, has it all. A loving family with a pet dog. A close group of friends who are like a second family to him. A great sense of fashion, and talent in dancing that could make him a worldwide star. He’s passionate about the things he wants, driven for the things he wants to achieve, and humbled despite his ambitious achievements.

It becomes apparent to you, very early on in your relationship, that he’s a man out of your league. Someone too good to be true.

You’re… undeserving of someone like him.

“You’re so nice to me.”

Hoseok smiles, but looks a bit confused as he peers up from the menu. For the first date, he decided on something fancy. A dinner with a view, where the waiters serve imported wine, and the dishes look like edible pieces of art. You’re both dressed well, blending with the other couples and groups in the surrounding tables.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks you, a bit taken aback by your statement. “I like you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” you quietly counter. The insecurities are getting the best of you. While Hoseok could make a name for himself, you’re just a nobody. Lost in life and without ambition. You waste your days numbing yourself from the mundane and loneliness.

What could someone like you possibly offer to someone like him?

Then, Gluttony.

Honestly, for a while, you didn’t know what you and Hoseok were doing. When you first met him, there was only one thing you wanted. And somehow, that became something more.

Somehow, Hoseok continues to meet up with you and take you to nice places. He doesn’t expect sex from you every time either. It’s like he genuinely likes to hang out with you.

Once, he took you to an aquarium. You didn’t even think you cared about fishes and marine animals, but your eyes widen in awe when you see the luminescent glow of jellyfishes in the tanks. The corner of your lip lifts into a small smile when you see Hoseok clapping his hands and laughing when a sea lion claps its fins back at him. And you actually laughed when you dared Hoseok to touch a stingray at the petting station, and he nearly fainted when the tip of his fingers brushed against its back.

Another time, the two of you end up at a local diner after a party, a little drunk and a little high. The two of you order too many burgers and fries and decide to eat them by his car in the empty parking lot. Perhaps you were still intoxicated. Perhaps the food wasn’t doing anything to help you sober up fast enough, but you end up sharing more about yourself than you ever intended to that night. And Hoseok is quiet as he listens, not once judging you for every bad decision you’ve ever made. In fact, he tells you that he thinks the same sometimes – that he isn’t all rainbows and sunshine like you initially thought he’d be.

Then, there was the day he took you to the mall. He seems very adamant about couples clothes and making sure he matches with you whenever you two go out. It’s a bit embarrassing for you, if you were honest, but he seems to like it a lot when you’d color coordinate with him or if you’d wear the top for the matching set of his pants. An elderly woman is in line behind you two when you take a break from shopping to grab some pretzels and drinks when she comments that you look like a cute couple.

It hits you right then and there that you and Hoseok are a couple.

You’ve been showing up at his dance rehearsals and shows. He’s introduced you to his friends and you’ve all hung out at the beach. He comes to pick you up from work and take you to his place, which slowly but surely has a lot of your stuff in his space now.

Neither of you ever made the relationship official though. Yet, Hoseok smiles at the elderly woman, practically beaming as his hand tightens around yours and thanks her.

You don’t know what you are to Hoseok – if he really sees you as his girlfriend, someone he’s just dating but not that serious about, or maybe just a friend he’s intimate with – and you’re not sure what comes next.

The two of you find a spot to sit down, and you watch as he snaps pictures of the pretzels first before holding up the phone to take a picture of you and him together. As you pose for the camera, you could see how the two of you really do look like a couple. Matching clothes and all.

Whatever you are to Hoseok, and whatever he is to you, perhaps it’s okay to indulge in it while it still lasts. Even if a small, tiny, selfish part of you yearns for more.

And then, Wrath.

Since the beginning of your relationship, you’ve been quietly counting down the days until it’s over. When Hoseok would find someone else and move on, just like any other lover you’ve dated. He’s too good to you, too kind. And you’ve been heartbroken and jaded one too many times to know that an inevitable end will come.

Even when an anniversary becomes two.

Even when he introduces you to his parents, and has started looking for a house you can move in together.

Even when his friends start to tease him and ask when they can expect an invitation to his wedding with you.

You’ll always fuck it up somehow.

“I don’t know why you’re so angry with me,” Hoseok tells you, exasperated. His patience seems to be running thin. “Did I do something wrong?”

It’s frustrating for both of you. Your suspicions. Your insecurities. Nothing good happens to you. A little voice in your head nags that you don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve him.

And there’s nothing he can do to prove to you otherwise.

“I think we need to end this,” you find yourself saying. Words that you don’t mean, but they fall out of your lips anyway. From self-sabotage. From pain. From fear. 

“You don’t mean that,” Hoseok calls your bluff. He doesn’t look angry or upset, but it seems like he expected this. The disappointment seems to hurt more than if he were to lash out on you.

Tears are brimming in your eyes, threatening to spill, but you refuse to cry. Not in front of him. You keep pushing him away, hoping he’d wake up and realize what you’ve always known – that he’s too good for you. That you’re the wrong person to share a future with.

“Just go,” you demand, your voice soft, barely a command.

You expect him to fight for you, like he always does. The back and forth breakups to make ups has become a vicious, toxic cycle lately.

“Fine.”

You’re stunned when you see him get off the couch and quickly walk out the door without another glance at you. This is what you want, right? It feels cruel to have expected him to stay.

And as your tears finally fall, a part of you – the part that truly, desperately loves him – hates you even more.

Sloth.

That is a demon that stayed with you the longest.

Your heart feels heavy after the fight. So heavy, it feels troublesome to move. To eat. To think. All you want to do is rot away in your bed and sleep.

“Come on,” Hoseok’s voice gently calls for you. He opens the blinds to your bedroom, letting sunlight spill in. “I got the bath ready for you. Let’s wash up and I’ll make you something to eat.”

You close your eyes again, scowling with your face pressed against the pillow. Maybe you’re dreaming. A hallucination of your lover that your mind imagined, prompting you to get up and face the world already.

Or maybe Hoseok is just really too kind.

You get your answer when you feel his hands pull you away from the safety of your covers, and he helps you to the bathroom. He's picked up the empty bottles of beer and soju that littered around the room, you note, seeing them neatly put in plastic bags. The warm water feels soothing against your skin, and you soon feel his fingers run through your hair and massage your scalp.

You don’t say anything to him then.

You don’t say anything as he helps you dress up into something comfortable and sits you at the table. Groceries you don’t remember buying sit on the counter. He must have gotten them before he stopped by.

It’s only after he sets down a bowl of stew he made that you finally speak.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask, your voice so soft, you don’t think he heard you.

You’re undeserving of this. You’re undeserving of him.

Even now, that little voice in your head taunts that.

“I like you,” Hoseok simply answers, sitting next to you with his own bowl. There’s a sad smile on his face as he continues, “Even if you don’t feel the same.”

You sniffle. The part that loves him wants to scream that he’s wrong.

But the tiresome demon snuffs it out and keeps you quiet and complacent.

And then, there is Pride.

Some would say, it’s the most evil of them all.

Pride keeps you from admitting your mistakes. From saying that you’re wrong. That asking for forgiveness is beneath you, and seeking for help and assurance is weakness.

Hoseok comes and goes often after you two have broken up. A stubborn part of him seems to think he can fix things. That in time, you’ll change your mind and take him back. That you’ll love him again, just as much as he loves you.

Even though, in your heart, you’ve never once stopped.

Pride is the vice that sneaks up on you. One you didn’t think you’d ever have, given the way the others plague your mind.

You only realize it when Hoseok stops visiting as much. When his calls are less frequent. When that look in his eyes that he used to only have for you starts to turn to someone else.

“Are you happy?” you ask when he tells you about her. He doesn’t need to. It isn’t any of your business. But he does anyway.

Because Hoseok loved you once. Perhaps, there will always be a part of him that still cares about you. That still likes you, despite everything.

A small voice in your head tells you to admit your feelings to him now. To tell him that you still love him. That you never stopped thinking about him.

Maybe if you did, things would’ve been different. Maybe if you did, he’d choose you.

But that kind of confession is undeserving of you. It kills you to see Hoseok moving on and loving someone else. But what little pride you have steels you from revealing the truth.

Even as he smiles and tells you, “I am.”

The cruelest one of them all, however, stands before you.

You've been doing better. You've been trying. The drinking and parties have slowed down significantly. The demons that haunt you have quieted down. You and Hoseok are friends, despite everything.

Which is why you end up here, at his place, looking at the white box he has in his hand.

Hoseok smiles and shows you what’s inside the box. Hope is in his eyes as he looks at you.

And a myriad of demons and their vices scatter into your heart all at once.

Lust makes you careless. Throwing yourself away to carnal sins is how you two met, and perhaps, not much else more.

Greed makes you selfish. Makes you want to keep him for yourself, even if you’re the one who broke things off with him.

Envy makes you jealous. What does she have that you don’t?

Gluttony makes you indulgent. All you do is take, take, and take. You don’t give anything back, and that’s why he deserves more.

Wrath makes you angry. You want to scream, throw something at him, make it known that you’re upset. That you’re still in love with him.

Sloth makes you complacent. Despite your fury, you could do nothing. This is all your fault, after all.

Pride makes you a liar. You refuse to let Hoseok know how hurt you are.

And hope … Hope has you clinging to him, even now. It makes your heart yearn – that small, tiny part of you that keeps fighting for him. That keeps reminding you that you love him. Even as he stands before you with an engagement ring inside the white box.

“Do you think she’ll like it?”

You force yourself to smile, hoping that it doesn’t reflect the way your heart shatters. Hoping that, for a brief second, he’d look at you and say that he loves you still.

“She’ll love it, Hoseok.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#pandora's box os #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #jhope x reader #jhope x you #bts angst #jhope angst #jhope fanfic #jhope fic #hoseok angst #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fic #hoseok oneshot #jhope oneshot

[itslottiehere]

i don’t wanna hear about him — h.s

hello beautiful people 🤍 welcome back! i know it’s been a while! but now, i present you a one shot i’m veryyy proud of, and hopefully you’ll find it to your liking as well <3 it’s inspired by harry’s unreleased song, “him.” just fyi, there won’t be a part two of this! as always, please let me know what you think! you can do so in your reblogs, in your tags, or in my asks! your feedback means the world to me. so, without further ado, happy reading! <3

— inspired by “him”, by harry styles

tw: some swear words

word count: 13.5k of pure angst (please get something to drink and tissues)

masterlist | leave your feedback or requests here

6 years before the day.

when harry told her that they were going to attend the same college, she couldn’t believe him. she was sure harry was gonna take a gap year or something, travel around the world, make experiences. all the while she would wait for him patiently, like she always did.

falling for your best friend isn’t the smartest idea, anyone would tell you that. a little of a cliché too, perhaps. but there was nothing she could do against those feelings: they planted their seeds deep into her heart, and bloomed. and they kept doing so.

now, three years into their college career, those feelings had developed deep roots, and it seemed like nothing was ever gonna eradicate them. 

but it was fine, she kept telling herself: it hurt, of course it did, but at least she had harry in her life, in some way. there was only one thing of the utmost importance: not letting harry find out. 

she knew that if he found out, he would run. that’s what he did every time he was faced with difficult situations, and god if this wouldn’t be one. 

so she learned how to mask those feelings, and she got pretty good at that over the course of the years. she couldn’t stand even thinking about not having him in her life, especially as a friend, so if all it took was bottling up her feelings, she would gladly do so. 

harry was happy: he was having fun in college and was seeing people whenever he wanted to, enjoying being a bachelor more than anything. and he was in college with his best friend, who was always there to play with his hair whenever he asked her to. he liked the comfort she brought him, and that’s why he didn’t really stop to think about what it could feel like for her, if it had a different meaning for her.

she’d always look at him as if he put the stars in the sky for her, she had nothing but love for him in those eyes. even if she tried sparing glances at him whenever he wasn’t looking, everyone around her noticed. and every time, harry didn’t. 

or that was what she had always thought. 

actually, and unfortunately, harry did notice, but didn’t know what to do, how to bring up such a topic with a person who he only saw as the best of friends, but nothing more than that.

and maybe, just maybe, he was so arrogant that he loved the attention and didn’t want to deal with the consequences of actually talking about it. 

—

5 years before the day.

graduating was scary for her, almost terrifying. 

a new beginning, once again. not knowing where life would take her, once again. 

and the nagging thought that kept her awake at night, the ones she spent listening to sad love ballads about failed relationships and missed opportunities: would harry still be in her life? she couldn’t help but think that he would move on, and leave her behind on his way to his new life, a memory of his younger years, of the life he wanted to move on from.

harry, on the other hand, was giddy. he didn’t know what the future would hold for him and he couldn’t help but think how exciting this was: a new start, endless possibilities for him to take, no matter how good or bad. “bring it”, he thought. 

she started working at a little coffee shop, just to do something after graduation. she could afford a very small apartment, but didn’t care, because it was something that was finally hers, and she was extremely proud of it. 

harry liked it too, and bought her a plant and a bottle of cheap champagne the day she got the keys.

“to our new lives”, he toasted, raising his glass.

“to going forward”, she added, a whole different meaning to her words from what harry may have thought. 

she really did have a plan to move forward. she knew she had to, the whole thing was becoming more ridiculous each day that passed: harry looked at her as a friend, and that was okay. he had been dating all throughout college, saw people all the time, and she had no real reason to wait for him, not when she knew things wouldn’t ever change. 

if only she had ever caught a glimpse of him looking at her the way she looks at him, or a certain touch that could give her even the littlest doubt of him having feelings. 

but that didn’t happen, not in high school, not in college. and it was just never gonna happen. she just had to make peace with it. 

and she was trying to: she had met a guy, named noah. he came into the coffee shop one afternoon, all wet from the rain. with a tired smile he came up to the counter, and when he looked at her, she could’ve sworn his eyes lit up a little. 

he had a goofy grin on his face, his hair sticking to his forehead, and after he mulled a bit on what to order, glancing at the board, he looked back at her and asked her to make him her favorite drink. 

she nodded, smiled at him, and told him he could take a seat at a table and wait for her to bring him his order. he smiled again, and went to sit down. 

he stayed for a while, almost up until closing time. before going away, noah came up to the counter and kindly asked her “do you happen to have a pen?”. she picked one up and handed it to him, and not even after twenty seconds, he came up to her again, thanked her and gave her the pen back. but not only that: there was also a napkin with his phone number scribbled on it. 

she smiled and heard the little bell of the door ringing. 

she thinks she will call him.

this had happened about a couple of weeks before. harry didn’t know about noah yet.

— 

4 years and 9 months before the day.

she couldn’t believe that she actually started dating someone. it was going slowly, but it was nice. noah was good, he made her laugh and was plenty nice, and as much as this sucked to say, if harry wasn’t going to be her person, then maybe she could be happy with noah. 

harry heard about this noah guy a couple of times. she seemed really fond of him, and he can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. she looked happier then he has seen her in a while. maybe she’s moving on, and she deserved it, he thought.

is she really moving on?

— 

4 years and 6 months before the day.

she really didn’t want to do this. fighting with harry was her least favorite thing to do. 

they kinda lost track on each other in those three months: things began to get more serious with noah, and she actually understood that noah wasn’t second best to harry. he was just another best. 

it was a safe love, a sure one; a place where she didn’t have to wonder if that touch was something more than just that, because she knew it was. 

it’s nice, she thought, to know that you love and are loved back. it’s nice.

so she put all her energies into that relationship, and she was very glad she did: it felt somewhat refreshing, to finally come out of the shadows, to finally put herself first.

but that didn’t mean she expected her best friend of almost 10 years to move across the globe and not tell her. 

he told her by text. a week before he’s supposed to leave.

she told him countless times that some things are not things he was supposed to tell via text messages, and he knew how much she hated it. 

“sometimes you gotta suck it up, be brave and tell someone what the deal is.” she always told him. apparently, she spoke in vain.

“Hi! I know this is kind of out of the blue, but I’m moving back to London next week. I don’t know for how long yet, I guess I’ll make the decision once I’m there, but I wanted to ask you if you want to have a coffee or something before I go, and if so, to let me know. I get that you’re busy now.”

she felt like the last line was probably a bit passive aggressive, but she quickly discarded the idea: he had no reason to be acting like that. yes, she had been busy with noah and with her life for once, and she didn’t give him her undivided attention. so was that it? was that the reason he never brought this up before?

before she could even register what she was doing, she was putting her shoes on and grabbing her car keys.

a loud knock from the door had harry look up from his halfway done suitcase. his phone, resting on the nightstand, unlocked, open on their chat. 

he couldn’t believe she left him on read. he thought news like that, of him leaving for god knew how long, would be enough to at least get a little of her attention. but alas, he was wrong.

he didn’t know whether he was feeling more sad or disappointed, or angry. why did things had to change? why does he feel a weight on his chest every time she turns down a chance to hang out because she already had plans with noah? why was he feeling like that?

and as always, when things got too hard, what did he do? run. and that was the exact same thing he was doing then.

the pounding on the door didn’t let up, so he said loudly: “give me a second, i’m coming.”

he jogged to the door and opened it, not even having the time to actually understand what was happening: she stormed in, moving to stand into his living room, her arms crossed and the most furious look harry had ever seen on her face. 

he was a bit shocked to see her there, in a place she hadn’t been to in almost three months. he didn’t really know what to say.

“hi.” harry said almost questioningly.

“you’re leaving for london for you don’t know how long and you didn’t even have the gall to tell me in person?” she was practically seething, her face stony, but her eyes burning into his.

“i-uh, i knew you were-“

“don’t even try to repeat that “i’ve been busy”. you know it’s a big change, a fucking huge one, and you choose to tell me in a fucking text?” the volume of her voice was increasingly raising. “what is wrong with you?”

that set harry off. “what is wrong with me?” he stepped forward. “am i the one who disappeared on you for three months? am i the one who ignored you the few times we actually got to hang out because i was too distracted by my boyfriend, who couldn’t help but text me while he knew i was out?” he was almost screaming, a tone of his voice she had never heard before, and hoped she never had to again. 

even if she didn’t know if there was anything else left to be said between them after this fight.

“you are-“ she scoffed. “you are something else.” 

she often told him that phrase, whenever he did or said something she couldn’t believe, but it was always followed by a laugh. this time, though, a laugh was the last thing on her mind. 

“when for once in- what, almost 10 years of friendship - i stop putting you on a fucking pedestal and put myself first, you start acting like a spoiled little kid? really?” she was in disbelief, she couldn’t believe the audacity he had to say that.

“i’m not-”

“oh but you are, you fucking are. and you know what makes my blood boil?” she paused and almost murmured her next words. “the fact that you never realized that you pulled this shit on me all the time, every single time you got into a relationship: once you’d find a partner, you’d put me on the back burner. and what did i always do?” she pointed her finger towards him for the next sentence. “i’d always let you. wanna know why? because i knew that once you get into a relationship, you need to cut some time with just the other person. and i always let you do whatever you wanted, never once complaining.” 

she shook her head, closed her eyes, and went on. “and now that i am the one in a relationship with a guy who loves me, who makes me feel happy and safe, who i’m sure is not gonna bolt as soon as i don’t give him my undivided attention, you’re here pointing your finger at me because you haven’t been my priority these last couple of months?” if she hadn’t closed her eyes, she would’ve seen harry visibly cringing at the concept of “love” associated by her to noah. even he couldn’t really understand why it hit him so hard.

“let me just-” he tried to talk back but was once again interrupted by her.

“no, i won’t let you, because i don’t need to hear anything from you: the way you behaved in making such a life changing decision already told me a lot of how highly you think of me.” the phrase was dowsed in sarcasm. 

she went towards the door, grabbed the handle and as she was about to walk out of that apartment and possibly his life, she turned back and told him one last thing. “i guess it’s good to know who’s the one who’s always gonna leave at the littlest inconvenience.”

she slammed the door on her way out.

she walked home, silent and angry tears streaming down her face. she had never been that mad in her life, and especially never with harry, but no matter how angry she felt, she was at least twice as sad. she was always afraid of this happening, of them on not being friends and going their separate ways, and knowing her biggest fear had become a horrible reality, was making her spiral. 

she knew her anger was her mind’s way of softening the blow, of making her think that somehow she wasn’t the reason she was gonna lose her best friend, that harry made the decision for the both of them by hiding the move from her.

she knew all of this, and her anger quickly dissipated, leaving room for pure sadness to take over. 

grabbing her phone, she quickly typed a message.

to noah:

“can’t come out tonight, i'll see you later”

noah responded almost immediately. 

“Oh okay, that’s fine! If you need anything, I’m right here for you :)”

yeah, he was there. he was the one who was staying. 

she put her phone away, and kept walking home.

harry stayed put on that spot right outside the living room for at least 5 minutes after she left. 

she left, she left, she left.

he didn’t know what he was feeling. jealousy, anger, sadness, disappointment, surprise, resentment, regret, shame of himself, he was feeling it all.

he hated that she didn’t let him talk, that she didn’t let him explain why he was leaving. 

but when he actually thought about it, what was he gonna tell her? why was he really leaving? was it really the grad school he applied to? couldn’t he find one just as good there? did he really have to put all that distance between them to attend some school?

he knew the answer. he knew, but running away was easier than facing the truth.

he went back to his room, head hanging low, not sure on what to do. he walked in and looked at the half made bag, the clothes messily thrown in there.  he sighed, picked it up and moved it from the bed. he went to get his journal, hidden in the little drawer of his nightstand. 

it was an old leather journal, one he had ever since he was a teen, a place for him to express himself in a way that he couldn’t do with simple sentences and words, where he could scribble all kind of thoughts, draw some doodles, write some quotes from someone else that he liked, and sometimes some of his own. 

he chose a blank page, picked up his pen, and started writing what he couldn’t tell her, what he could barely admit to himself.

“so you were right, there’s always two:

the one who stays, and the one who’s leaving you.

hear me out, my apologies,

‘cause i’m not here for sympathy.”

—

4 years and 5 months and 3 weeks before the day.

he was leaving in a matter of hours. she knew that, but her pride still wouldn’t let her make the first step. during that week, she got to know the reason why he was leaving, thanks to an old classmate who somehow found out: he got into an amazing grad school, and she immediately knew there was no reason for him to turn down such an opportunity.

she knew she didn’t let him explain why he was leaving, and she regretted that, but that didn’t change the main problem: he was mad at her because she stopped being at his beck and call. he was so used to her putting him first than anyone else — especially herself — and now that she didn’t, he behaved like a spoiled little kid.

harry knew how much she cared for him, and how she would’ve dropped anything if he was ever in need. he knew and he used that knowledge somewhat against her: it felt like he saw as an ornament, that he could put up on a shelf and leave there to collect dust when he was bored and pick her back up once he was done with other ornaments. she felt disposable. she felt that that’s what she was to harry. 

she tried, she tried so hard to convince herself that it wasn’t the case, that harry missed her because he cared about her as a person and not because he saw her as someone he was used to.

but he was leaving in a matter of hours, and she didn’t hear from him ever since she stormed out of his apartment.

it was around 2am, and sleep just wouldn’t come to her. she didn’t know at what time his flight would leave, if he packed all the things if he was gonna need, if he remembered to pack the journal she has seen plenty of times but was never lucky enough to read. she knew it was like a safety blanket for him, that he brought it with him basically anywhere.

she kept turning in her bed, not able to find a comfortable position. she sighed, turned on her right side and faced the window of her bedroom. the sky was a deep blue, but clear. 

“maybe the flight will be smooth, then” she thought. 

she sighed, closed her eyes and begged sleep to come, but her mind was racing, mostly with the knowledge that her best friend was gonna leave and maybe never come back. and that he didn’t even think about apologizing to her, that he’d rather leave everything than face-

the sound of something hitting her bedroom window stopped her train of thoughts. was it hailing? no, it couldn’t be, the sky was clear.

she groaned and got up from her bed, put her arms around herself to somewhat maintain a little of the warmth she had in bed, and walked to look outside her window.

and who could be there, if not her dumbass of a best friend?

harry crouched down to pick up a few more pebbles, not ones big enough to break her window or else she would have a whole other reason to hate him.

his flight was at 10, so he still had a little time left and he couldn’t go away before seeing her. it was hard for him, to admit that he was in the wrong, that he was such an arrogant son of a bitch that he’d rather lose his best friend than admit he was jealous.

not that he’d admit that to her, he knew that much. but he also knew he had to apologize, even if it was at the last second.

once he found some good pebbles, he stood up and was getting ready to throw one once again. but at the window stood her, in her plaid pjs bottoms, looking at him.

he gave her a timid smile, and she gestured with her hand for him to come upstairs. 

she waited at her door, not knowing what to do. what was she gonna say? was it gonna be a nice moment or was it gonna be another fight? why was she feeling anxious with harry, the one person she never felt anxious with? she didn’t like feeling like this, not at all.

harry was waiting at her doorstep. if it was a different occasion, he would’ve used the set of keys she had made for him; but this wasn’t that kind of occasion, and maybe at the end of this night, if it didn’t go as he planned, he would’ve had to leave them there. he shook his head, trying to clear his mind, and raised his fist to knock on the door, but it opened before he could make contact with it. 

she stood there, almost timidly, unsure of what was gonna happen. 

“hi.” he murmured.

she finally looked at him, her eyes tired, but, heartbreakingly enough for harry, not with sleep. “hi. please, come in.” she moved aside, and let him in.

harry murmured a small /‘thank you’/,  and moved inside. he was standing right in the middle of the room, not knowing where to go, not knowing if he was even welcome in that place anymore. 

she looked at him kinda funnily, tilted her head and said: “you know you can also not stand there like a statue and-”

“i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry, darling.” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. “i’ve been a shit friend and what i did is awful, and i know this apology doesn’t mean anything, but-”

“harr-” she tried to interrupt.

“no, please, let me talk this time.” he said, and moved to sit on the couch. “you were right, i behaved like a brat. i’ve never done anything this wrong before, i know i screwed up and i know i let you down.” he took a deep breath. “i just want you to know that i’m not moving because of you and noah, but because i got accepted in this school in london,-”

“i- uh, i know.” she gulped. “congratulations.” 

he was kind of surprised, “oh, you know?” she nodded. “well, yeah- so i got into this school and i was very happy about it, but it killed me that i couldn’t celebrate that with you. and i’m not saying it was your fault, because it was definitely mine: i wanted you to be around 24/7 like it always has been and it was wrong of me. i’m happy for you and noah seems like an amazing guy, and you deserve nothing less. i’m so sorry.” he ended, looking deep into her eyes.

she went to sit down next to him, “can i talk now?” he nodded. “i accept your apology. i know it was hard for you to admit you were wrong, and i really appreciate it.” she took a breath. “i’m sad you didn’t tell me, yes. but what hurts me the most was feeling like i was disposable to you.” 

harry winced at that. “please, don’t say that, you’re killing me.”

she turned around to face him better. “i’m sorry, but it’s true, that’s how i felt. i know you don’t see me that way, i know it now, but it sure felt like it. to me, it was /‘hey, i’m moving to this cool place for however long and i didn’t care about telling you until the last second. see ya!’/” she took a breath, and went on. “but i’m glad you came here, and that you said all the things you said. thank you.”

harry lowered his head. “you shouldn’t have to thank me.” he murmured. “you didn’t deserve the way i treated you.”

“yeah,” she nodded, “you’re right, i didn’t. but you apologised and i accepted it. so now instead of being all sad, why don’t you tell me more about this fancy school?” she smiled, getting more comfortable on the couch. 

he smiled right back at her, and started talking about what the future had in store for him.

we’ll be alright, he thought.

they kept talking all night, laughing at the memories and full of faith in the future. harry stayed there as long as he could, soaking up all of /her/ he could get, but around 5am, their time was up: harry had to get ready for the airport, and she had to open at the coffee shop in a couple of hours.

“so” he gulped, “i guess this is goodbye.” 

“c’mon harry, don’t be so sad.” she smiled softly, although she was breaking a bit inside. but she added, “it’s not like we won’t see each other anymore! i’ll visit, you’ll visit, we’ll facetime all the time - oh, let’s make a pact! if not every night, at least 4 times a week we have to facetime. deal?”

harry smiled, and nodded. “deal.”

we’ll be alright, she thought.

they hug goodbye at the door, clinging to each other a little longer than usual. this wasn’t a goodbye, he wasn’t leaving her, this was just a see you later. he hoped she knew that.

now, it was time for the next chapter, for the both of them.

—

3 years and 1 month before the day.

“harry? can you hear me?” 

“yeah, just a sec-”

“as much as i love your ceiling, i’d like to see your face. what, did you get a haircut? is it bad?”

“no, you little shit, give me a second.” she could hear the smile on his lips. “here- there you go, i’m here.” he adjusted his phone, so she could see him well enough.

“hi! no haircut i see.” she smiled. “that’s for the better, i’ve always loved your long hair.” that sentence made harry’s heart flutter. it seemed that’s the only reaction it had whenever she was involved.

“i know you did, who can forget the tears you shed when i cut it short?” he smiled smugly.

she was immediately offended. “hey! it was the perfect length for me to braid it, you looked so pretty. my reaction was more than justified.” she pouted.

“alright, alrig-”

“baby? here’s your tea.” a deeper voice came through his speaker. of fucking course. 

her face lit up as soon as the person who spoke came into the room. “ah, thanks baby!” she puckered her lips, and noah gave her a soft quick peck, before realising she wasn’t alone.

“oh hi harry!” noah waved. “how’s it going? everything good?”

harry swallowed his envy and his jealousy, barely. “yeah-” he cleared his voice. “yeah, everything is good. you?”

“oh yeah, thank you! i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to interrupt.” he smiled a bit embarrassed. “i didn’t realise it was facetime time, but i’ll get out of your hair immediately. bye harry!” he said louder, and then added softly. “bye dear.” he gave her a quick peck on the top of her head, and left the room. 

she didn’t stop smiling throughout the whole interaction. and that made harry’s blood boil. but it wasn’t the time to be upset now, now that she was in front of him. 

“sorry, since he moved in we are trying to figure out a schedule for the both of us, i forgot he got off early today.” she said softly. 

yeah, he moved in. she broke the news to harry a couple of weeks before and he had to pretend to be thrilled about it. he couldn’t help it: not even being oceans apart from her helped him ease the pain, and also the fact that he had been gone for over a year didn’t make this any easier. 

“it’s okay.” he said, pretending. “how’s it going with you guys?” he’d prefer a stake through his heart rather than hearing her response, but he also knew he had to ask, being her friend. what if she wasn’t happy?

“oh, it’s amazing.” she smiled. “it’s just like- getting extra time with your best friend, you know? like, you know when you are out with a friend and you just don’t want to leave them and go home?” he nodded. he felt that way every time he hang out with her, and harry wanted to smack his old self for not doing something about it when he had the chance. “and now, i don’t have to wish for him to not leave, because he’s here! so yeah, it’s pretty great.” 

he nodded silently, a soft smile on his lips. even if all he wanted was to be noah right then, he couldn’t help but be excited for her: she was so happy, happier than he had ever seen her. “that’s amazing, love. you deserve it.” 

she smiled as well, “thank you, harry. and i finally don’t have to fight with someone who steals all the covers and leaves me in the cold!” she added, trying to lighten the mood.

he pretended to be shocked and offended. “okay, that happened one— or two times if we’re exaggerating, and it was cold! i had to!” 

their banter went back and forth for a little while, laughing like always. harry tried to ignore the heartache the thought of them being all domestic gave him, at least up until they’d end their call. so he pushed his thoughts aside, and focused on enjoying the company of his best friend.

“alright, i’m afraid i have to go now.” she pouted. “but i’ll talk to you tomorrow, or in the following days? just- whenever you want! alright?” 

“yeah, of course.” he smiled. “goodbye, darling. talk soon.”

“goodbye, harry.”

“bye.”

once the call ended, harry threw his head back, groaning. why did it all have to be so difficult? why couldn’t he have realised how he really felt before? why couldn’t he have realised it when he slept over at her place, when he could feel her hair on his face, her body close to his? why couldn’t he have realised it before she fell for someone who didn’t steal all the covers?

as all the other times when his thoughts were too loud, he opened his desk drawer and looked for his — now even more — worn leather journal, flipping to the pages to /that/ particular page, and got his pen ready. the ink flowed easily on the paper. 

“cause i don’t want to hear about him, 

how he’s holding you better at night.”

—

1 year and 4 months before the day.

“what the fuck?” she screamed through the speaker. “what the actual fuck? when?” 

he chuckled. “in a couple of months. i thought it was better telling you face to face, or at least through a phone call, rather than a text.” 

“and you were right! oh my god, i can’t believe you’re coming home in two months.” he couldn’t see her face, but he could hear she was smiling. she went on, voice a bit quieter this time around. “for good? are you coming home for good?”

“technically, the UK is my home-”

“oh shut it, styles.” she interrupted. “you know what i mean.” he did. and he knew that home was the right term, because home was wherever she was. 

“yeah, for good i think, or at least for a long while.” he said, stopping at a red light. 

his brakes made a screeching sound, telling her exactly what he was doing. 

“wait- are you driving? it’s not safe! i’m ending the call, we’ll talk once-”

“hey, slow down. i am driving, and you’re on speaker. i called you as soon as i was out of the office because i couldn’t hold it in any longer.” he said, smiling. 

“aw, you’re cute when you want to.” she breathed a laugh. “but now, let’s talk business: your homecoming party!”

“as i said, since i’m from the UK, i’m actually already-”

“oh, fuck off!”

—

1 year and 2 months before the day.

“noah, kill the lights! everyone hide and be quiet!”

“yes, ma’am.” one of their friends whispered.

she had been behaving a bit like a drill sergeant, but she couldn’t care less: her best friend was finally coming home and nothing — absolutely nothing — could go wrong. she missed him so much, and she couldn’t wait to share the news. 

just not tonight, because tonight was all about him and him only. 

her phone screen lit up, an incoming call from harry. she swiped her finger on the screen and answered him. “hello?”

“hey! i’m almost at your place, are you home? i didn’t see your car.” that was because she had carefully parked it a couple of blocks from her apartment to sell her story.

“yeah, sorry, i got caught up at work! i’ll be home in a little bit, i’ll try to get out of here as soon as possible! i’m so sorry.” she lied through her teeth.

“no, uh, don’t be- it’s fine.” he sounded a bit sad and perhaps disappointed. 

all was going according to plan.

“please, go in! i don’t know if you still have your key, but there’s one under the doormat!; make yourself at home!”

“of course i still have it, what do you think?” he chuckled. “alright, i’m going up the stairs, i’ll see you soon.”

“alright! bye for now!”

“bye bye.” harry murmured, ending the call. he put his phone in his back pocket, before jogging up the last flight of stairs. once he was in front of the door, he took out his keys, but stopped. “please, don’t let noah be home.” he thought. 

he put the key in the lock, turned it to open the door, and walked in the place that felt like home more than anywhere in the world.

as he was closing the door, the lights came up. “what the-”

“SURPRISE!!” her living room was filled with their friends, all smiling at him. but he only saw one face in the midst of them, because her smile was brighter than all the others. 

“fuck me, you guys were about to make me drop dead on the floor.” he chuckled and the others joined him. he pointed his finger towards his best friend, “you fucker.”

“welcome home, harry!” she said smiling, going towards him to wrap him in a hug. 

he was home.

the party was going splendidly: almost everyone was tipsy, someone more than the others — harry talked to everyone who was there, but all he really wanted was to talk to her.

“it’s nice seeing your face in real life.” he slurred, a bit intoxicated.

“oh well, thank you, i guess?” she smiled, and reached for her drink. 

and that’s when the light hit something sparkly on her finger, and harry’s heart fell to his stomach. his mouth dry, his eyes unblinking.

“what is that?” he murmured, so low she could barely hear it.

she frowned, and followed his line of sight. when she understood what he was looking at, she quickly lowered her hand to her side. “fuck, i forgot to take it off before you came here.” she looked up at him with her eyes wide. 

did she plan on keeping this hidden from me? he couldn’t understand what was going on, his mind was spinning from the news, and the alcohol in his system wasn’t helping.  

“i wanted to tell you the news in person, but i wanted tonight to be just about you! i was gonna tell you tomorrow or in the following days, fuck i screwed it all up now.” she groaned and put her hand on her eyes. 

harry shook his head, trying to find his voice. “no, no, it’s okay.” he breathed a deep breath. “congratulations.”

she looked at him with a crooked smile. “thank you, harry.” she paused. “i’m still mad at myself, it was supposed to be a cute moment, i had it all planned out! i was gonna take you to breakfast and tell you and then i even wrote you a little riddle to ask you to be my best-” she slapped her hand over her mouth. “oh fuck! i can’t believe i literally ruined it all now!”

well, wasn’t it just the cherry on top of the sundae of awful that was his life? 

not only did he have to watch the girl of his dreams get married: he literally had a front row seat at the altar. 

his head was spinning so fast he could barely think straight, the realisation that he lost her, that he lost all his chances to have her as more than a friend, that he threw away all the possibilities he had, all of this broke his heart in two. nothing he went through ever hurt him like this, nothing ever made him want to throw up, cry, scream and runaway all at once. 

he didn’t know what to say, what to feel: he knew noah was good to her and that she deserved nothing less, so why was he so angry? was he such a selfish idiot that he couldn’t even be happy for his best friend? 

“so, since it’s all out, would you be my best man?” she asked him, her eyes full of hope staring at him.

and what could he do if not say yes?

he didn’t stay long at the party after the big news blew up in his face, leaving with the excuse of being jet lagged. he tried telling noah he would drive back by himself — he really did — but the man wouldn’t stand down, saying he had drunk too much and it was not safe for him to drive in that moment.

harry would have loved nothing more than to find a string of bad qualities in him, in order to make her leave him, but there was nothing: noah was a good guy, a good friend and evidently an even better boyfriend.

asshole.

the drive back to his place was embarrassing, silent and just weird, but probably it was more for harry than for noah. once they got to his place, harry basically jumped out of the car, murmuring a low “goodnight”. 

but before driving away, noah rolled down the car window and called after him.

“hey, harry!” harry turned around, hoping this would be over soon. he went on, “i just wanted to say i’m very happy you’re back, and that i’m glad you’re her best man. she was so excited about asking you.” noah smiled. “just- thank you in advance for everything. i know you’ll be on the receiving end of her wedding planning freak outs.” he chuckled. 

harry nodded slowly, feeling emptier and emptier inside. “of course, no problem. bye.” 

noah waved and pulled up his car window. 

once the car drove away, harry rushed into his apartment, and slammed the door. 

he couldn’t help but let the tears run free, finally letting his pain overtake him. his breath was coming out in small puffs, and he couldn’t control the agonising sounds he was letting out. it felt like he was living his worst nightmare, and actually he really was.

he knew. he had known all those years, he knew she was in love with him. and he always ignored it — “for the friendship”, he told himself. and of course, he only realised his love for her when she moved on. when she found someone who loved her as much as she loved him.

maybe if i try harder to be a better person, a better friend for her. he thought.

maybe if i did something differently.

but perhaps, the best way for him to be a better friend was being there for her as her best friend and best man, and to not interfere. he would have to put his feelings aside, and accept that he had a chance — multiple ones, at that — and didn’t take it. and he didn’t really have the right to cry now that he was too late. now that he realised that this was how she must’ve felt all those years.

he stood up, and went to his half unpacked bedroom, and picked up his journal. the page was easy to find now, a picture of them signalling the pages filled with his regret. 

the ink flowed easily, and so did the tears.

“do you know what it’s like to fall in love from the outside?

and i don’t know, but i've been trying for you, for me.

now i know what it’s like to fall in love from the outside.”

—

6 months and 1 week before the day.

“i swear to god, if this shop doesn’t have a nice dress i’m getting married in sweats.”

harry laughed at her. “c’mon now, you drama queen.”

she turned to look at him, shocked at his reaction. “easy for you to say, mister. you just have to find a tux that fits or wear one you already have! i don’t happen to have a white dress with a big puffy skirt in my wardrobe, unfortunately.” 

harry smiled at her antics: this was definitely not the first freak out about the wedding. a couple of months before it was the invitations, and the debate on what shade of white was the best one to pick. harry got a bunch of smacks to his head because he couldn’t see the difference between a pearly white and a less pearly white. shocking.

saying she was stressed was a huge understatement, she could plan everything till the last detail, but you never know how many things could go wrong: you could lose your veil, the flowers may not be delivered, the dress could get stained… so many things he couldn’t have control on and it was driving her crazy.

and now, the next mission was finding the right dress. all the ones she had tried on were either too big, too small, too sexy, too modest, or made her look like a meringue. and the stress was getting to her, because she had been more whiny than usual and she could cry at the idea of trying on yet another dress. 

but there was one last shop they had to look at, and she hoped it would be where she could find the dress of her dreams. 

the shop was filled to the brim with white gowns, and harry was praying to god they would find the dress. he was sat down on one of those comfy sofas, two older ladies following the bride-to-be in the changing room, getting her ready for him to see the dresses.

she came out and from the look on her face, harry could tell she was most definitely not amused, but refrained from talking her thoughts out loud so not to make the shop assistants feel bad. 

“we’ll be right over, dear. just call us if or when you want to try on another dress.” the woman on her right gave her arm a light squeeze, and walked away with her colleague. 

she turned around to look at harry, shoulders slumped, a frown on her face.

“i look awful, don’t i?”

you never do, he thought. “why do you say that?” he said.

“it’s all wrong: the skirt is wrong, the neckline isn’t good, i hate the way my arms look in this, it’s just- ugh.” she sighed. 

harry could see how she was getting worked up, so he told her what he always did whenever she was going crazy about the wedding: “hey, take a deep breath. c’mon.” he did the exercise with her. “breathe in - 1, 2, 3, 4. keep it in - 1, 2, 3, 4. and, breathe out - 1, 2, 3, 4. that’s it, keep going.”

she did this a couple more times, and she could feel herself calm down. 

“oof- okay. i think i’m ready to try on a couple more dresses. would you mind calling the ladies for me?”

“of course. go back in there, i’ll be right here.” he squeezed her hand, and went to find the shop assistants.

after trying three more dresses, she was tired and mostly disappointed. she just wanted to get over with this dress hunt, so after the third failure, she turned to harry. “okay, i’m done. i’m getting out of this and i wanna go home.”

harry nodded. “okay, whatever you want.. but may i propose something?” he inquired. “can i see if i can find a dress for you? just- give me five minutes, and if you don’t like it we’ll be on our way. okay?”

“mmh. okay.”

so off he went. 

and boy, did he found a dress. he knew he hit the jackpot, and couldn’t wait to see how she looked in it. almost jumping on the couch from the excitement, he patiently waited.

she was definitely worth the wait. 

it was a bit bigger, and he knew she’d want to make some alterations, but he also knew there wasn’t a dress more perfect for her. 

she was beaming with joy. a smile so big it must’ve hurt her cheeks, but she didn’t care. that was the dress.

up until she saw the price tag.

“goddamn, styles, did you really have to find it in the priciest part of the shop?” she exclaimed and harry looked confused, so she continued. “i couldn’t get this dress in my wildest dreams! it’s too much.”

harry stood up and went to stand behind her, in front of the mirror, and put his hands on her shoulders. “i’m sure if you cut a little on some things, you can afford this. god, i would even pay for what you can’t pay yourself. just- look at you. you’re beautiful.” he looked at her eyes reflecting on the mirror, and saw the darker pinkish shade that coloured her cheeks. 

“i do look nice, don’t i?” she scrunched her nose and smiled. 

“plenty nice.” harry smiled back.

and so the dress was found, at last. she talked to the store ladies for the alterations and such, and afterwards harry walked her home.

“thank you, H. i can’t believe you found my dress!”

“hey, my last name is “styles” after all, isn’t it?”

she looked at him, jaw dropped. “jesus christ, that was worse than your knock knock jokes.” 

harry went back to his apartment, ready to finally let his walls down and stop pretending seeing her in that white dress wasn’t making him want to die. 

“god, what a mess.”

the rest of the day went by, he was just about to make dinner when the doorbell rang. he wasn’t expecting company, but maybe it was his 83-year-old neighbour needing something. 

he went to open the door, and he wasn’t expecting to find his best friend standing there, her face stained with tears, makeup running down from her eyes.

“may i come in?” she murmured, voice broken. harry felt his knees buckle, all he wanted was to hug her and make her problems go away. but that was the thing; what had happened to reduce her to this state?

harry moved to the side. “of course, please.”

she made her way into his home, so warm, so familiar. she asked him if she could go to the restroom to freshen up, so now he was waiting for her in his bedroom, as always when they had to talk over things. 

once she came into his view, he saw that her cheeks were still flushed, her nose red and her make up still a bit smudged. he pat the bed and silently invited her to sit down, so she could talk about whatever was wrong. 

she sat down and kept quiet for a couple of minute, until the silent tears began streaming once again. 

“god, i’m so sorry.” she sniffled. “i must seem so ridiculous right now.”

harry shook his head. “no, no, absolutely not. just- what happened?” did something happen with noah? was she safe?

“it’s nothing with noah, that i can tell you. or i don’t know, maybe it is at some capacity. it’s just-” she sighed, and closed her eyes in order not to break down again. “i’m a bit overwhelmed, i guess? the dress shop called to tell me that they’d have the dress back in a couple of weeks so i could go in and try it. and while i should be ecstatic about that, all i felt was anxiety: i couldn’t breathe and i was thinking that maybe this was all happening too fast and that perhaps it’s better to call off all of this and just reschedule it.” she took a deep breath, and added lowly. “or maybe just call it off for good.”

harry’s mind was spinning, this was his chance, to swoop in and get the girl. 

but he didn’t want to. because it wasn’t right, to her first and foremost. but also to him, because if she wanted to be with him, to really be with him, she had to be in the right state of mind. 

plus, he would never, ever do something this manipulating to anyone, especially not her. 

“i see. uhm- i, i don’t really know what to say.” he paused, while she wiped her eyes, getting makeup all over her hands and around her eyes. “i just want you to know that i’m always here for you, and that if you change your mind i’ll be the one driving the getaway car.” he tried to make a joke, and he succeeded in making her crack a smile through the tears. “i want you to be sure of what you do, whether it’s getting married, rescheduling or calling it off. and i also want you to know that getting cold feet is absolutely normal before any big change. and god, this is a huge one.” 

“it’s just- what if it’s not what i want it to be, what i want my marriage to look like? what if it all changes?” she inquired.

“why would it change? it’s just a title, instead of boyfriend and girlfriend, you’ll be husband and wife. you can see it as just that, if that’s what makes you worry.”

“but what if i’m not enough for him? what if he’s not enough for me? what if we end up resenting each other down the line?” she sniffled and accidentally wiped her hands on his sheets, leaving a trail of makeup in its wake. “fuck, i’m sorry. damn it.”

“don’t worry about that.” harry smiled softly. “as for the rest, i’m not sure i’m the guy you should be talking to right now. i’m not married-” and i’m not the one you’re marrying, he wanted to add. “but i know that communication is the key in relationships, and even if it’s hard at times, it’s the right thing to do. who knows, maybe noah is having the same doubts? maybe he’s scared as well and doesn’t know if he should or should not talk to you about it?” 

she seemed to sober up little by little, understanding that harry was right, that she needed to talk to noah and work it all through with him, no matter the outcome. so she nodded, and agreed with harry. “yeah, yeah you’re right, i should talk it over with noah. i’m sorry for all of this.” she breathed a smile. “god, i’m such a mess.”

“hey, none of that. it’s fine and absolutely normal to have doubts, i’m glad you came to me.” he smiled. “want me to walk you home?”

“no, no, i drove here, i’m good.” she looked up to him, opened her ams and took him in a hug. once her face was right next to his ear, she said softly “you really are my best man, do you know that?” 

not good enough to be the one you want to spend your life with, clearly. “thanks.”

night came and enveloped his room, but sleep refused to close his eyes: harry was twisting and turning, scared of the future for the first time in his life. it was all getting so close, too close and too fast. he wasn’t ready to lose her, he wasn’t ready to wave goodbye any future they could have had together.

he wasn’t ready, and yet did nothing to change it. the only thing he did was picking up that damn journal, and adding to the lines he had already written. 

“that nice dress in my wildest dreams,

lipstick stains you left still on my sheets.”

—

2 months and 6 days before the day.

“what about shots?” 

“yeah!” various voices exclaimed. 

“god, no.”

“harry, i planned this bachelorette party two months early because i didn’t want to be hangover close to the wedding. c’mon old man!” she tugged his arm to make him stand up and accompany her to the bar, and harry scoffed.

“can’t believe i have to force you to do shots, it was always the way around.” she huffed while struggling to guide him to the bar.

harry laughed through his nose. “that was because we were younger. you’re gonna hate yourself tomorrow morning, and i’m gonna hate you too if you force me to drink my body weight.”

“okay grandpa.” she said in a deep voice, mocking his accent. 

so, shots they did. god, so many shots.

they were giggling like teenagers, as if they were back to their college days.

she had missed the feeling, and harry couldn’t not feel the same.

they couldn’t talk without laughing every two sentences, and each others laugh made the other laugh even harder, and so it became an endless cycle of hysterical laughter that didn’t let them breathe. 

“so, bride to be,” harry slurred, dopey smile adorning his face. “how are we feeling about the big day?”

she took another shot, squinted her eyes from the burn, and answered, voice as slurred as his. “we are feeling good right now.” she laughed. “very good. i’m happy.” 

“good, good.” harry nodded, his voice unconvincing.

“hey, look at me.” she grabbed his chin and turned his face to face her. “are you-” she stopped, and stared at him for a second. “god, you have amazing eyes, you know that?” 

harry laughed and squinted his eyes, “okay, now i’m sure you’re wasted.” he tore himself away from her hands, even if he didn’t want to. 

“heyyyy, am not!” she said, faking offence. “what makes you say that?”

“because, silly, you always used to say that when we were partying in college. once you said i had “amazing eyes”, i knew it was time to take you home.” 

“aw, look at you, knowing all about me.” she singsonged. “you’re the best of friends, you know that?” she grinned. “any man, woman, anyone would be lucky to have you by their side, bub. i mean it.” 

harry smiled, but his heart sunk a little. 

yeah, anyone. anyone, but you.

“thank you, darling. no more drinks for you, though.”

“aw, you’re such a buzzkill.” she whined. “maybe just another one? just one, i promise!”

getting home was hard, knowing he was gonna be alone was even harder. only his journal was waiting for him, laying on the opposite side of his bed, the words already ready to fill up those pages.

“when i hear “amazing eyes”,

it breaks my heart evеry time.”

—

3 weeks and 2 days before the day.

“hey! come on in.” harry stepped aside to let her make her way in. “and you brought chinese food!”

“yeah well, i figured you’d be hungry.” she came in, left the food onto the kitchen table and started taking her coat off. “and i also had to bribe you with something for the favour i need to ask you.” 

harry took her coat and her scarf and went to place it on his bed. “of course you’d be nice to me just because you need something.” he scoffed. “what a friend you are.”

“hey, it’s not true! i’m always nice to you, but i really need help and we both know you’re the one who has a better way with words between the two of us.”

harry came back to the kitchen, where she was setting the table. the scene looked and felt so domestic, so homey. so heartbreakingly familiar. “and how would you know?”

she laughed while opening up the containers. “are you kidding? i always saw you writing in that worn leather journal in school. maybe it was your diary, but i wouldn’t know because /someone/ would never let me read anything from it.” 

“that’s because you’re nosy and that journal is private.” he grabbed the plates. “c’mon now, i’m starving. we can talk about what you need help with while we eat.”

so, apparently what she needed help with was writing her wedding vows.

her fucking wedding vows.

harry almost choked on his food when she spoke. 

“your-” he gulped. “your wedding vows?” 

help with your promises, your deepest declarations of love for a man with whom you’re gonna spend your life? a man who’s gonna wake up to you every morning while i become the sad uncle to your beautiful children? really?

“yeah! i’m desperate, i wouldn’t have asked you if i wasn’t in deep shit right now. i’m going crazy and the wedding is getting close and i don’t know what to do other than beg for your help, so please, please-” she was getting worked up. 

she had tried to do that by herself, she really did: she just couldn’t put any words down, not any that sounded good anyway. which is why harry was her last resort, she knew he was modest, but he had a way with words. 

his good looks got him with people through college, yes, but the boy was a smooth talker. people were drawn to him by the looks, but they were truly captured by his words. 

so, who better then the guy she used to have a crush on for years to help her write her promises to her future husband? yeah, the situation was desperate.

“uhm.” harry scratched the back of his head. how the hell was he supposed to help her with such a thing? “i- i just don’t know if-”

“hey, it’s fine if you don’t want to. i can just try to look up on the internet.” she smiled, not a real smile. “i just- i guess i wanted them to be special. and it kills me i can’t do this by myself.” she shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, but harry could see how much this thing made her sad. 

“no, uhm- it’s okay. i think we can work on something.”

as soon as he said those words, she smiled big, and harry knew he made the right choice. “thank you so much, harry. thank you. you have no idea how much this means to me.” 

so now they were on the couch, brainstorming ideas. 

“so, i said you want the vows to be more personal, obviously. so maybe, something about what you did together? like, what about your first date?”

“oh yeah, it was nice! i invited him over to make some brownies for maddie’s birthday party, do you remember?” did he remember? he fucking suggested it. they would always bake the cakes, or any sweets, for their friends’ birthdays, but that day he was busy — had a date with a person he wanted to go out with for so long, and it ended up being mind-blowingly boring  — so he suggested she invites noah over to help her out. 

and then that was it.

he still would curse himself for that stupid idea, for suggesting that date, for suggesting a thing that was usually just for the two of them as a date with another person. he was jealous, incredibly so, and he just wished she had him in his mind whenever he thought about that date. he was selfish, and he knew that, but that’s what anger and envy brings you to do. 

“yeah, i remember.” he nodded. “then maybe you can write down about that.”

“i remember how we ended up making the brownies all too runny.” she laughed. “and i had more flour in our hair than the one we ended up using for the baking. it was such a lovely date.” still smiling, she looked up to him. “it kinda made me remember how we used to bake for our friends, we’d always make it end in a food fight. it was so fun.”

harry nodded, a bit cocky in knowing that what he wanted — for her to remember him when she thought about that first date. “i bet it was.” 

they went on, sharing ideas and lines back and forth, until she could see harry’s eyes closing. “okay H, time for me to leave you alone and make you go to sleep. let me just help you with the stuff in the kitchen.” she stood up and went towards the kitchen, but harry grabbed her wrist to stop her.

“hey no, leave it there: i’ll tidy up tomorrow morning, i’m just to tired right now. i just wanna go to sleep.”

tilting her head to the side, she looked at him softly. “okay, okay. goodnight sleepy head, i’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“nighty night. can you lock the door please?” 

“of course, harry. go to bed now, you’re spent!”

harry was tired, yes. physically, of course, but emotionally? he was tired on another level, he couldn’t stand talking about their vows a second longer. he felt like he was gonna be sick, pass out or die if they did, so he kinda exaggerated his tiredness, so that this could be over and he could just drown himself in his sadness and pain. 

as soon as she was out the door, and he heard her walking away, he let himself break down. he got up from the couch, tears staining his cheeks, trying so hard to catch a breath between all the sobs. this was killing him, ever so slowly. 

he walked into his room, turning on the lights and noticed her coat and scarf was still there. he thought about texting her about it, but he couldn’t even see straight: he was not okay. he had not been in a while, and it was getting so much worse with everyday the wedding got closer, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. he wanted to scream, he wanted to put his fist through the wall, to let the world know that he wasn’t okay with what was happening, that it wasn’t right, not in the slightest; he knew he was late, he knew. but why couldn’t he have one last chance? just one chance. 

“fuck.” he sobbed. “fuck this.”

the venomous words wrote themselves on the page, adding to the long list of words that described all the regret, the jealousy, the anger that was boiling in him. 

“i don’t want to hear about him,

and these songs you continue to write.

i was with you when you wrote that line,

it was me that you had on your mind.”

.

harry woke up to the sound of his doorbell, his mouth dry and his eyes puffy, he didn’t even realise he fell asleep. shaking himself awake, he looked around the room before hearing the doorbell once again.

he grunted in response, and got up to see who could be looking for him at— well, he didn’t even know what time it was. was it morning already?

“hey, sleepyhead! god, i wore you out last night, huh?” she laughed, while making her way in. “oh my, the kitchen is a mess! do you need help?” 

harry was a bit dumbfounded, still half asleep. “wh-what are you doing here?” he cleared his throat. “did we have plans or-”

“oh no! no, i just came by to pick up my coat. i realised yesterday once i was home but didn’t want to come back and wake you up, so i thought it would be better if i came by this morning. didn’t think i’d end up waking you up.” she laughed. “can i go get it?”

he nodded, “yeah, yeah, of course. i’ll make some coffee. want some?”

“as if i’d ever say no.” she smiled and walked away.

once she entered the bedroom, she understood that she literally dragged him out of bed to open the door: the bed was all messed up, and the state of his hair and face clearly showed that he hadn’t even brushed his teeth. 

she looked around a little, finally finding her coat and her scarf on the dresser, near the window. since she was in there, she decided to tidy up a little, open the windows, change the air. 

while she was making the bed, she saw something familiar coking out from under the pillow. could it really be…? yes, it was: the untouchable journal.

she was shocked: never once in her life did she got so close to that book without harry tearing it away from her sight before she could even get a closer glimpse. she didn’t want to invade his privacy, she just wanted to look at the outside of it: she saw that there were little scribbles on the cover, made with a black pen, words, stars, doodles. it’s all so harry, she thought. 

but then, one thing caught her attention: they were photo-booth pictures, depicting two youngsters, smiling and making silly faces at the camera. harry had his hair a bit longer, she would call him “prince harry” at that stage: he was making a kissy face to the camera, and she was beside him, smiling deeply and looking at him with nothing but pure love; this was taken when she hadn’t met noah yet, and there was no one else on her mind. she remembers harry dragging her into the booth. they were going around shopping, looking for a new shirt for harry and a new outfit for her to wear at their graduation, when harry caught sight of the machine. he stopped in his tracks and grabbed her wrist, making a million of butterflies bat their wings in her stomach. 

“we always take a million pictures but never print them! we always say we will but we never get around to do that, so now i have the perfect solution.”

and when could she ever say no to him?

she smiled looking at the picture at the top, reminiscing those days. she decided to open the journal, just to see the other pictures under the top one: one with harry sticking his tongue out, another one with her making bunny ears behind his head, and the last one was her favourite, of course. harry grabbed her chin and planted a wet kiss on her cheek, making her turn a bright red. she remembers how flustered she was by that touch, and how she felt like she was walking on air for the rest of the day.

her cheeks warmed at the memory, smiling at the silliness of teenage feelings, but she cherished the memory of them the most. 

she couldn’t believe harry kept it all those years, she thought he would’ve lost it by then, with the movings and everything. 

while she was going to close the book, her eyes dropped to the words scribbled on those pages.

at the top of the page, written in uppercase, three letters, underlined: him. 

she knew it was wrong, she knew it was a violation of his privacy and that he would have any right to hate her, but her curiosity got the best of her and she ended up starting reading the rest of the words, of what she soon realised was a poem, or a song.

“no fucking way.” she smiled. “that’s so cool.”

she read the first four lines, frowning at the somber tone of the lyrics. what was he apologising for? 

she kept reading and reading, her heart sinking more and more into her chest, the realisation of what was going on hitting her like a truck. no, it couldn’t be. it couldn’t.

“that nice dress in my wildest dreams, lipstick stains you left still on my sheets.” she read out loud. “no, no, what-” but she went on, she couldn’t stop now. 

“when i hear ‘amazing eyes’, it breaks my heart evеry time?” her breath was shallow, her eyes misty. “what the fuck is-”

“hey darling, are you okay? you’ve been in here a whi-” harry’s voice died in his throat at the sight of his best friend white as if she had seen a ghost, holding his most precious possession, the air abandoning his lungs. shit.

she gulped, and didn’t tear her eyes away from the page, her voice low. “harry, what- what is this?” her hands were shaking.

harry was speechless, mind blank, not a thought going in his brain. he didn’t know what to say or do, aside being slightly defensive. “what are you doing reading my book?” he uttered, voice raspy.

“i didn’t mean to,” she murmured, still not looking at him. “i just picked it up to put it on your nightstand, but i saw the pictures of us inside and opened it, to get a better look at the picture and that was supposed to be it.” she inhaled deeply, calming herself. “before i found what you wrote.” and then, she finally looked up at him. her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks red. he didn’t like the sight of it. and he didn’t like what came after. “please, tell me the truth.” she pleaded. “is this about me? about me and.. and my relationship?” 

“what? no, it’s not-” he tried lying, pathetically, making her shake her head and read straight from his journal.

“i was with you when you wrote that line, it was me that you had in your mind?” she read almost whispering. “‘that line’- oh my fucking god, my wedding vows? you wrote this stuff last night.” she looked at him with a look he had never seen before, not towards him at least: pure disappointment, shock, disbelief. her voice was barely a whisper, as if all the air had been sucked out the room. “harry, i’m getting married in a fucking month. you’re my fucking best man, what the fuck-” she raised her head toward the ceiling, her hands covering her eyes. 

harry murmured lowly. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, i can’t even-”

“since when?”

harry hoped he didn’t understand what she meant. “what?” 

“since when have you been writing this. since when have you been having feelings for me.” she said, her voice raising slightly.

“i-i don’t think it matters right now, honest-”

“oh, but it does.” she smiled, a sarcastic smile, tears falling silently down her cheeks. “it does matter, because it will make me understand what kind of feelings we’re talking about. tell me.”

harry stayed quiet, not daring opening up his mouth, because he knew what she would be thinking if he told her that he fell for her only after she got with noah. and that the passive aggressive decision to move to another country without telling her was all dictated by his jealousy. he knew she would hate him as soon as he told her that, as soon as she realised he was just a boy, a kid that would get jealous if anyone was to touch his toys. 

he felt ashamed, so ashamed of those being the circumstances in which he found out about his feelings, but they were so far from that now: he loved her, like a man would love another person, not like a teenage boy does.

apparently, he didn’t need to reply, because she already knew the answer. she scoffed, drying her tears. “oh, so it was after i met noah, then. let me guess, around the time you were ready to flee the country without telling me?” she asked bitterly. 

harry didn’t know what to say, aside from apologising, again and again, head hanging low. “i’m sorry.”

“you knew.” she pointed her finger towards him. “you knew i loved you, you did and you always played with my feelings. “‘do you know what’s like to fall in love from the outside’? are you fucking serious? do i know? i was in love with you for years and i always pretended you didn’t know, but i know you did, anyone could see it. and you never did something to let me know if you wanted more or if you didn’t want me that way, you’d always want me to stay in between, huh?” her smile was chilling. harry had never seen her like this, and those words were like knives going straight through his heart. he knew the truth was hard to face, but this was something else. he thought that dying would hurt less. “i can’t fucking believe this, it’s too much, i- i have to leave.”

harry shook his head vigorously, placing himself in front of the door. “no, please, don’t leave.” 

she stopped in front of him, shaking her head no. “let me leave. i don’t have anything to say to you.”

“but i do-”

“i don’t care, harry. i don’t fucking care about what you have to say now, because now it’s too late! you had years, years to tell me, and you didn’t even have the balls to say something to me, i had to find out you wrote a fucking song about me and noah three weeks before my wedding day.” she looked up at him, brows furrowed. “don’t you see how everything is messed up now? do you really not realise it?” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before pronouncing the last sentence harry would hear from her. “i really don’t care about what you have to say now. move out of the way.”

he did. the sound of the door slamming shut was almost as loud as his heart shattering in a million pieces. 

he collapsed on his knees, head hanging low, guttural sobs ripping out of his chest. 

on the other side of the door, she was in the same state, sat in her car, hitting the steering wheel, wishing she could slap Fate in its face, for this sad joke it made. how was this fair? how could they recover from this? most importantly, would they be able to recover from this? 

harry couldn’t remember a time he felt so desperate, so angry, so sad, so all over the place. all the plates that were out on the table were now smashed on the ground, angry tears leaving their trail on his face, his knuckles bruised from the punch he gave the wall. 

“fuck!” he screamed, after the hit. the tears of pain mixed with the ones of sadness, the ones that were testament of the fact that he knew it was all over. all the friendship, all the love was gone. there was nothing to rebuild, there was nothing he could do. 

it was over. there was no coming back from this.

—

4 days before the day.

her sister’s phone ringed with a new message.

“Hi, it’s Harry. I’m sorry if this is last minute, but I cannot come to the wedding. Hope everything is going well.”

her sister looked at the bride to be, doing her last dress check: she looked amazing. she was so happy, so smiley, glowing: harry being there would’ve ruined it, she knows that. but still, she couldn’t believe her sister wasn’t marrying that curly headed boy she was so smitten of. she always thought they’d end up together, someday. especially after she knew he was into her as much as she was.

“everything okay?” the bride asked her sister. “did one of the caterers say something is wrong?” she nodded towards her phone.

she shook her head. “no, no. everything’s fine. you look beautiful.” she smiled. “noah is a lucky man.”

—

the wedding day.

the church was packed with people: friends, family, coworkers, everyone who was ready to celebrate the new life of the happy couple. everything looked so festive, flowers all around: she chose sunflowers, like he knew she would’ve. the day was bright, as if the sky itself wanted to be at its best for her, for her big day, because nature knew she deserved nothing else. 

the last guests hurried themselves in and took their seats, everyone buzzing about seeing the bride walk in. noah was up at the end of the altar, his brother putting his hands on his shoulder and smiling at him, trying to come up with a joke to make him less anxious. noah laughed a bit, still very much anxious, but also happy: today was the start of their new life together, him and the girl of his dreams. this was the best day of his life, and he wished it would never end. 

she could see the church from the car window, and squeezed her sister’s hand as a reaction: the day was here. it was a long time coming, but she couldn’t be happier. 

well, maybe she could, but she won’t think about that today. not today, not ever. today was the beginning of a new life, full of love and safety. 

her sister turned around and smiled at her, squeezing her hand back three times. once they were parked, the maid of honour got out of the car, and noah’s heart jumped in his throat. it was really happening.

the june sun shimmered down her gown, making her look ethereal. an angel walked into the church and was then walking down the aisle, heading towards her future, with the man she loved more than anyone in the world.

and the man who was too late stood at the end of the church, hidden from her. 

he couldn’t be away, he couldn’t bring himself to miss out on her big day, no matter how painful it may be for him. so he stood at the far end, hidden from everyone. 

when she stepped foot in the church, his breath hitched. he had never seen anyone that beautiful before, she was glowing: even from where he was standing, harry could see the way her eyes were filled with emotional tears, the wavering smile displayed on her lips. she was breathtaking, and so utterly happy. 

it broke his heart.

he saw everything he had lost by being so arrogant, so blind, so oblivious, such an idiot for not realising sooner that she was the one, that she was the only person he wanted by his side. and now, he was watching every step she took away from him, towards the life he knew she deserved.

the life he knew he could’ve given her, if he didn’t mess up his chance. 

chances, even. he had so many of them, and he blew them away because he was scared.

now his life was gonna be filled with regrets, and that was his own fault, there was no one else.

while he watched the couple exchange their eternal promises to each other, he saw her sister glancing at him, giving him a timid smile, as if she knew he couldn’t be there for a second longer, that he couldn’t wait there to see them go out from that church and beginning their new journey. harry nodded back at her, and quietly made his way out of the church from the second entrance, the one he used to make his way in without being noticed.

he got in his car, and drove. he didn’t even know to where he was heading towards, but that didn’t matter. nothing did anymore.

“is he holding you better at night?

is it me running into your mind?

i still think about you all the time.”

—

soooo, this is it! i absolutely loved writing this story, i cried A LOT but it was very much worth it. some stories just don’t have the ending we wish they had, and that’s okay: some stories need a sad ending. i love you all! please let me know your thoughts under the post or in my asks! <3

taglist: @harrysonlylover @that-daydream-look @neverstaisfied

#harry styles #my writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles os #harry styles story #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x bff!reader #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #harry styles masterlist #bff!harry

[al3zthecat-blog]

Thinking about when talking about Shang Quinghua and the original Shang Quinghua I've usually seen that the original is portrayed as the evil twin or the dumber twin.

In the case of the second, I've read theories(?) I guess that say that Airplane was a better Peak Lord (in part because in his past life he had access to higher education) and a better spy because he had inside knowledge as the author.

This one I can get behind, Airplane having an advantage by knowing the plot would make him seem to be more capable to outsiders.

In the case of the first one I actually like to think that if they were twins Airplane would be the "evil one".

While I totally think that the reason Airplane is so comfortable doing all the shit he did is because he doesn't think of anyone (besides maybe MBJ and SY) as real people, from an outsider perspective it doesn't look like that. And while I know that the argument could be said that this would make the original SQH more devious/evil/whatever, as he would be operating with the belief that his world is real, I think that this depends on whatever original SQH was a good spy and how many and what type of atrocities he committed. Because we don't really know.

So, let's say that Airplane was a better servant/spy to MBJ in part because of his insider knowledge and past life. But that the other part is that he lacks the "morals" that would have held back the original because he doesn't see as anyone as real people.

Maybe the original had some morals. Maybe the reason MBJ fell in love with Airplane is that he was attracted not only to his loyalty but by how ruthless he is (something that for demons I bet would be attractive). From MBJ'S perspective, Airplane is, yes weak and cowardly, but also completely loyal and devoted to MBJ while at the same time kind of ruthless to anyone else.

In the case of the original SQH maybe he was not as willing to betray his sect. Like, maybe he was ambitious enough that he thought he could eventually make it so there was a treaty between CQM and the North and from his perspective he wasn't really betraying his sect. Getting rid of HHP was whatever since it was another sect and he could get behind that as long as CQM remained safe. Maybe he thought he and MBJ had an understanding of working together.

Except of course that they didn't and MBJ always planned on killing him.

Like, say MBJ knew about what was SQH'S ambitious and he was either thinking SQH would eventually betray him or that he didn't believe SQH would be capable of convincing his sect of an alliance and was just playing around while taking advantage of SQH. Either way a win for MBJ.

Then of course LBH happens and MBJ no longer has time for games, LBH wants CQM obliterated so CQM has to go and with it gone he no longer has reason to keep playing games with SQH so he kills him.

To make it more sad I like to imagine that original SQH was also fond of MBJ (maybe even in love with him) and that he did not see this happening at all.

#svsss #fic ideas #mobei jun #original shang quinghua #original mobei #airplane shooting towards the sky #we don't know that much of Original Shang Quinghua so I like to imagine something sad and tragic for him #I also read this oneshot (I think it was a OS) were SQH “betrays” MBJ but is thinking that technically MBJ betrayed him first by razing CQM #and that part of their deal was that CQM was safe from MBJ #I know that MBJ'S thing is that he is loyal #but in this case I imagine that he didn't see it as him betraying SQH because he was never loyal to him #that or he saw it as a kindness because he knew what LBH was capable of #either way I like to imagine that the original SQH genuinely cared about original MBJ and saw him as a friend #and he also thought that MBJ cared about him in his own way and saw him as a friend #meanwhile MBJ was just playing games with the human