#i saw him today i know but i still miss him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

enreveriee · 1 day

Text

. , lilac , p.js (☂️)

IN WHICH: you liked jay a lot, but your innocent crush soon spiraled into an obsession, blurring the line between fantasy and reality, as your thoughts twisted into something darker than you expected. GENRE: fluff, slightly dark (?). WARNING(S): obsession, stalking, mentions of accident, kissing, not proofread, lmk if I missed anything. WORD COUNT: 7.8k

LIKE THE FLOATING CLOUD — Changing schools wasn’t on your wishlist, but here you were. It had been a long time since you’d recovered from the accident, and life had thrown you yet another curveball—starting over in a new place. Just weeks ago, you'd woken up from a coma, expecting some form of respite from life’s relentless challenges. But the world doesn’t pause, does it? You were thrust into yet another whirlwind, this time, school. New faces, new halls, and new pressures to bear.

The morning sunlight gleamed off the freshly polished windows of the sprawling campus, casting reflections that danced across the pavement. The building loomed before you—its modern glass façade glimmering in stark contrast to the worn, familiar bricks of your old school. You stopped for a moment, taking in its sheer size. “Damn,” you muttered under your breath, barely aware of the words slipping from your mouth. “They have a better infrastructure than my previous school.”

Stepping inside, the scent of fresh paint and newly waxed floors hit you, a stark reminder of just how new everything was. The halls were alive with the buzz of students rushing to get to their first classes. Lockers slammed, sneakers squeaked against the tile floors, and the faint hum of conversation filled the air. You watched them—groups of friends laughing, others buried in their phones or textbooks, weaving through the maze of hallways like they’d been doing it forever.

It felt strange, seeing all this after months confined to the stillness of a hospital bed. A stark contrast to the sterile walls and cold, white lights you had grown so familiar with. The vibrant chaos of school was both overwhelming and comforting in a way. You stood there for a moment, just observing, soaking in the life you’d almost forgotten. The sight of students hurrying to their classes, backpacks bouncing against their shoulders, gave you a sense of normalcy. The halls were bright, lined with posters of school events, sports team victories, and upcoming dances—everything you’d missed out on for what felt like a lifetime.

You clutched the straps of your bag a little tighter, pulling it further up your shoulder, almost as if it would anchor you in this unfamiliar place. You could feel the faintest bit of nervous energy rising within you, the kind that makes your heart beat just a little faster. But you weren’t going to let it overwhelm you. Not today.

As you passed by a few students gathered in the corridor, you could hear bits of their conversation. “Did you finish the homework for Mr. Park's class?” one asked, flipping through her notebook. The other girl nodded, her head buried in a thick textbook. You glanced at them, envy prickling the edges of your mind. They belonged here, and you… well, you were still finding your place.

“Alright,” you whispered to yourself, straightening up and taking a deep breath. “New school, new start.” With one last glance at the crowded hallway, you made your way toward your first class, determined to make this day yours, no matter how alien everything felt.

HELLO, HELLO LIKE A PETAL — Not even a week into your new school, you saw him for the first time—the class president. You didn’t know his name yet, but something about him drew your attention. He moved with quiet confidence, guiding students through their doubts with ease, his voice calm, yet commanding. His presence was magnetic, the way he gestured with his hands as he explained a complex problem, or the soft smile he gave when someone finally understood.

“Do you like him?” Semi, the girl sitting next to you, nudged your arm gently, her teasing grin barely concealed behind her hand. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the heat creeping up your neck. How could you like someone this early? It was ridiculous.

“I’ve never even seen him before today,” you muttered, pretending to focus on the scribbles in your notebook, though the lines blurred together as your thoughts wandered. “I don’t like him… not yet, at least.” You added a nervous chuckle, but your eyes refused to stray from him.

It wasn’t until he glanced back—straight at you—that your heart betrayed you, hammering against your chest as if it had been caught in the act. He walked over, each step deliberate, his posture straight and assured. You could feel Semi's gaze burning into the side of your face, her amusement at your sudden silence barely restrained.

“You haven’t submitted your assignment yet,” he said, his tone polite but firm, snapping you out of your daze. His eyes were kind, though, like he didn’t even notice the way your hands fumbled nervously with your pen as you nodded, barely able to form words.

“I’ll, uh, get that to you… soon,” you stammered, mentally kicking yourself. Of course, a guy like him wouldn’t even blink in your direction beyond official school matters. He was the class president, for crying out loud—probably too busy managing a thousand other things to even notice you.

As he turned to walk away, Semi was quick to jump in with a teasing whisper, “Girl, you’re down bad.” She let out a soft snicker as you glared at her, your heart still racing from the brief encounter.

Your eyes followed him despite yourself, as if they couldn’t tear away from the sight of him—his tall figure moving with that same effortless grace. It was just a simple conversation, nothing more than a sentence or two exchanged. But it left a mark, one that you knew would linger. Something about him seemed like a beacon, and you weren’t ready to look away.

“Well, that’s one way to make an impression,” you murmured to yourself, sighing quietly. It was ridiculous how so little could feel like so much.

LIKE THE SPRING BREEZE — You were still new at school, trying to adjust to the routine, but at least you had made one friend—Semi. She was your lifeline in this sea of unfamiliar faces, and with her by your side, school didn’t seem as daunting anymore. And then, there was Jay. You’d finally learned his name, not that it had been hard. He was popular, almost too popular.

One search of his Instagram, and you were greeted with hundreds of likes and comments from not just your school but people outside as well. He had that effortless charm, the kind that made people gravitate toward him. Maybe that was why you were crushing on him so hard—or maybe it was the way his smile seemed to light up the hallway whenever he passed by.

You found yourself scrolling through his feed late at night, learning everything you could without actually knowing him. You knew when his birthday was, how he liked his coffee, and what his favorite band was. And today, you decided to make a move, something small but hopefully memorable. You bought him a pastry, a cute little cupcake from the bakery down the street, wrapped it in a box with a neat little bow, and headed straight for his locker before school started.

Standing in front of his locker, you took a deep breath, placing the box inside. The nerves were eating you alive, but you didn’t want to back out now. Just as you turned around to leave, you froze. There he was. Jay, standing right behind you, his expression a mix of curiosity and confusion.

His voice broke the silence. “What are you doing?” He asked, his hand brushing against yours as he reached for the box. The contact sent a jolt up your spine, making your heart race even faster.

Your mouth went dry, but you managed to stammer out, “It’s your birthday, right? I, uh... got you these.” You held out the cupcake, your smile shaky as you tried to mask how flustered you were.

Jay blinked, glancing between you and the cupcake before offering a polite smile. “Thanks, but... do I know you?”

The words hit harder than they should have. You felt your heart drop into your stomach, the awkwardness thick in the air. He didn’t even know you? All this time, you’d been working up the courage to talk to him, and he didn’t even recognize you. Ouch. You forced a smile, trying to save face, but the sting of embarrassment was hard to shake off.

“We’re in the same class. I’m the new student,” you muttered, your voice a little quieter, hoping this wouldn’t be as humiliating as it felt.

Jay’s eyes widened slightly, realization dawning. “Oh, right. I must’ve forgotten. Sorry about that.” He gave you another smile, the kind that was polite but distant. “Thanks for this.” He held up the box, gave you a nod, and with that, he walked away, leaving you standing there with your pride in pieces.

You couldn’t help the frustrated sigh that escaped your lips as you watched him go. “Such a bastard,” you mumbled under your breath, though there wasn’t any real anger behind it. Just exasperation. Despite the awkwardness, you still found yourself drawn to him. How could you not? The way he walked, the way his shoulders moved with an effortless swagger—there was something about him that just pulled you in.

But then again, you weren’t the only one. You’d seen the way other girls looked at him, the way they’d flock to him like moths to a flame. You were just another admirer in a sea of them. And yet, here you were, feeling like this tiny interaction, awkward as it was, was something special. Maybe it was your first real conversation with him, but it was something.

LOVE RESEMBLES MISTY DREAMS — Love, for you, felt like one of those foggy dreams you have just before waking up—the kind where everything is hazy, but you can still remember the emotions. It was no longer just a feeling but a reality you crafted for yourself. Everything was deliberate, including the way you “accidentally” bumped into Jay in the hallways or “coincidentally” ended up in places where he usually went after school. Some might call it stalking, but you thought of it as strategic planning. After all, you just wanted to talk to him—get to know him.

And then, one day, you got your golden opportunity. How? You joined the History Club. You absolutely loathed history. Memorizing dates, names, and ancient events was the last thing you wanted to do, but none of that mattered when Jay was the club leader. You’d force yourself to endure it, just for a few moments with him.

Today was one of those long club meetings, the kind that dragged on forever as Jay led the discussion while you sat across the room, your eyes barely leaving him. The topic was something about ancient dynasties—honestly, you weren’t paying attention. Instead, you had focused on making your notes look as neat and perfect as possible, hoping to catch his eye with the colorful highlighters and meticulous doodles. When you finished, you slid over to where he was sitting, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Jay, how does this look?” you asked, handing over your notebook with a hopeful smile.

Jay barely glanced at the notes before his brows furrowed in confusion. “It’s... nice. But, um, you shouldn’t have used so many highlighters. It’s kinda hard to read with all the colors.” His tone was polite, but it still stung a little. Semi, who was sitting beside you, covered her mouth to hide her laughter, shaking her head as she continued working on her own notes.

“Oh... okay.” You tried not to let your disappointment show, but it was hard. Your enthusiasm had deflated like a balloon, and the frown tugging at your lips was a clear giveaway. Trying to keep your cool, you casually pulled out a small, wrapped box from your bag and slid it toward him, as if this were a completely normal thing to do.

Semi’s eyes widened, her shock evident. She was always amused by how bold you were when it came to Jay, but this—this was a new level. Jay blinked in confusion, his gaze flickering between you and the box now in front of him.

“What’s this for?” he asked, a small crease forming on his forehead. He picked up the box, turning it over in his hands as if trying to figure out why you’d given it to him.

You swallowed nervously. “I, uh, made some cookies for you.”

There. You said it. No going back now. You could practically hear Semi holding back her laugh, but you didn’t dare look at her. Your eyes were glued to Jay, waiting for his reaction. He stared at the box for a moment, looking almost... awkward. His smile was tight, as if he didn’t quite know how to handle the situation.

“Oh... thanks,” he said, his voice uncertain, like he was trying to be nice but wasn’t sure how to accept this gesture. He shifted his weight, glancing around the room as if searching for an escape route, and that small gesture hit you harder than you expected.

Your heart sank. The realization washed over you like a cold wave—he wasn’t interested. He probably had girls giving him gifts all the time, and you were just another admirer in the crowd. The worst part? He was too polite to brush you off outright, which only made you feel worse. The room began to clear out, and soon, it was just the two of you left, the silence hanging heavy between you.

You fiddled with the edge of your notebook, finally breaking the quiet with a question you dreaded asking but couldn’t keep inside any longer. “Do I... do I annoy you?”

Jay’s head snapped up at your words, his eyes wide with surprise. “What? No! Of course not.”

But you could tell from the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes that he wasn’t telling the whole truth. He was trying to be kind, but his discomfort was impossible to ignore. You forced a smile, but the hurt still crept into your voice.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, waving it off as if it didn’t matter. As if your heart wasn’t breaking a little.

Jay hesitated, his fingers tightening around the box of cookies you had given him. He looked almost guilty now, as if he knew how much his reaction had affected you. Without saying anything, he opened the box and took one of the heart-shaped cookies, biting into it quietly. You watched as he chewed slowly, his gaze drifting to the floor.

The silence that followed felt heavy, awkward, and filled with all the unsaid things that lingered in the air between you. It wasn’t much, but seeing him eat the cookies you made—even though you knew they weren’t going to change anything—was enough to make you feel a small flicker of hope again, even if just for a moment.

I LIKE THE SCENT OF TODAY — As if life had its own twisted way of pulling strings, you eventually grew closer to Jay—or at least, that’s what you told yourself. Bonding over history wasn’t something you ever anticipated, but somehow, there you were. It had been five months. Five months of stolen glances, hushed conversations, and countless moments where you felt your heart skip a beat just from being near him.

Five months of wondering why Jay didn’t push you away. Despite knowing your feelings, he had never told you to stop. Sure, you had followed him home once or twice—okay, maybe more than once. But the strange thing was, he noticed. He noticed and he never did anything to stop you. Instead, he fed your one-sided affection with smiles that lingered a bit too long and conversations that bordered on intimate. It confused you. Sometimes you wondered why he acted as if he was leading you on, yet at other times, it felt like he was just being kind out of some sort of obligation.

You remembered one afternoon clearly. It was just the two of you in the History Club room. The other members had gone out for a break, and the quiet settled between you like a soft, suffocating blanket. Jay was engrossed in some text about ancient civilizations, flipping through the pages with a look of calm concentration. You, on the other hand, couldn’t focus. Your eyes kept drifting toward him, your mind racing with the questions you had been holding in for weeks.

“Jay? Stop talking about historical monuments,” you muttered softly, breaking the silence. You’d lost track of how long he’d been going on about some ancient ruin. Normally, you’d let him talk—it was one of the things you liked about him. But today was different. There was something bubbling inside you, a feeling that couldn’t be ignored any longer.

Jay blinked, startled by your interruption. He looked up from his book, his dark eyes meeting yours with a curious glint. “Oh?” he asked, his voice tinged with confusion. He set the book aside, leaning back in his chair, and raised an eyebrow. “Then, what do you want to talk about?”

Before you could respond, he casually reached out, gripping the arm of your chair and pulling it closer to his. The sudden movement caught you off guard, and now your knees almost brushed his. You felt a blush creeping up your neck, your heart fluttering in your chest as you looked down, avoiding his gaze.

But you had to ask. You had to know. Swallowing your nerves, you looked back up at him, eyes searching his for some kind of answer. “Jay? Why are you doing this?”

He frowned, clearly not understanding what you meant. “Doing what?” he asked, his tone casual, but you could tell he was puzzled. His gaze flickered to the small, wrapped gift boxes and notes that littered his desk—tokens of affection from his admirers, yourself included. You watched his eyes settle on the trinkets, as if they might hold the answer.

You followed his gaze, feeling a knot of frustration tightening in your chest. “Accepting my gifts, I mean… and talking to me,” you clarified, your voice quieter now, but firm. You hated the way your heart felt heavy, as if you were bracing for a truth you didn’t want to hear. “Why do you talk to me like this? Why do you make me feel like there’s something between us?”

Jay seemed taken aback by your bluntness. He glanced back at you, a small, almost imperceptible sigh escaping his lips as he looked away again, his fingers tracing the edge of the nearest gift box. “Oh, that… they were nice,” he muttered after a moment, his tone flat.

Nice? That was it? You felt the sting of his words, the casual way he dismissed what meant so much to you. “That’s the only reason?” you asked, frowning as you leaned back slightly, feeling the weight of disappointment settle in.

“Yeah.” His response came without hesitation, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Your frustration simmered, but more than that, there was a growing ache in your chest. How could he be so oblivious? You stood up, pushing your chair back with a scrape that echoed through the empty room. “Jay, don’t you think someone might not give this kind of stuff to just a friend?” You didn’t care if you sounded angry now—hell, you were angry. Angry, hurt, and confused.

Jay met your gaze, his expression unreadable. He didn’t flinch. “I know.”

You blinked, your frown deepening. “You know?” The words felt like a punch, your hands balling into fists at your sides. “Then why are you leading me on?”

Jay lowered his head, his hair falling slightly over his eyes as he let out another sigh. His voice was quieter when he spoke, tinged with something that almost sounded like regret. “I know that you like me,” he admitted. “But… I don’t think I want to love anyone anytime soon.”

You froze, the air between you thick with unsaid words. The way he said it was like a door closing—a gentle but firm rejection. He wasn’t even trying to keep you there, to stop you from walking out. He just sat there, looking down, his hands resting on the table as if he didn’t know what to do with them.

Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest, but then curiosity took over. “Why not?” you asked, stepping closer. The hurt was still there, but now there was something else—an ache to understand. “Why don’t you want to love someone?”

Jay looked up, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment before they darted away again. He hesitated, his voice barely above a whisper when he finally spoke. “I’m afraid of loving someone… and getting hurt.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. There was a vulnerability in his tone that made you hesitate, but you pushed that aside. Instead, you took a deep breath, letting the silence stretch for a moment before you stepped even closer, a sudden idea forming in your mind.

“Then…” You paused, feeling the weight of your words. “How about you date me until graduation? And once the spring comes, we’ll part ways.” You smiled softly, the sadness lingering behind it as you met his eyes again. “Love me only until this spring.”

Jay’s eyes widened slightly, surprised by your proposal. You could see the conflict in his gaze, the way he wanted to say no but hesitated. He looked down at the pile of gifts again, his fingers brushing the edge of one of the boxes before he finally sighed, shaking his head softly.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he murmured, his voice unsure.

You bit your lip, stepping even closer. “Oh, c’mon! Please?” You knew how desperate you sounded, how much like a lovestruck fool you must’ve appeared. But you didn’t care. You couldn’t let this chance slip away—not when you were this close.

Jay looked up at you, really looked at you this time. His eyes searched yours for something, and after a long pause, he let out a resigned sigh. “Fine,” he muttered, his voice soft but clear. “I’ll love you… only until this spring.”

And as he spoke, he gazed at you, his expression unreadable as his eyes flickered to the gifts on his desk—reminders of the fleeting nature of the affection people offered him. You couldn’t help but wonder if, just maybe, this was the start of something that could last longer than a single season.

LOVE ME ONLY ‘TIL THIS SPRING — Spring had barely begun to unfurl its vibrant colors, but you already felt the weight of an unspoken clock ticking down. Two months remained until graduation, and with it, the end of your deal with Jay—no strings, no lasting attachments, just a fleeting experience of dating. But for you, it was never just that. You had been attached long before this "spring romance" ever started, yet here you were, clinging to his arm like a lifeline, trying to savor each moment despite the cold reality of an expiration date.

Walking down the crowded hallway, your grip on his arm tightened. The judgmental glances from other students followed you both, sharp and filled with disdain, as though they couldn't understand why Jay, the untouchable, mysterious boy, was with you. You knew the looks well—they stung, but they didn’t surprise you. This whole thing was supposed to be temporary, just a silly experiment. Yet, the knot in your chest told a different story. You were already in too deep.

Jay, on the other hand, remained indifferent. His usual stoic expression hadn't changed much since the two of you began this strange arrangement. He didn't stop you from holding his hand, from clinging to his arm, but he didn’t make any gestures that suggested anything deeper. He had agreed to this—dating until spring, no more, no less—but you couldn’t help but wonder: Was this all just a façade?

“Don’t you dare hurt her.” Semi, your friend, shot Jay a warning glance as the two of you passed by her near the lockers. The sharpness in her voice cut through the haze of your thoughts, bringing you back to reality. You almost winced at her words, remembering how you’d bragged about dating Jay. What would she say if she knew this was all temporary?

Jay glanced down at you, sensing your discomfort, and squeezed your hand gently. It was a small gesture, but one that momentarily eased your embarrassment. For a second, you allowed yourself to imagine that this wasn’t just for show, that maybe—just maybe—he felt something too.

The walk home after school was quiet, as usual. Jay walked beside you, his hands in his pockets, while you clutched your bag, the silence between you growing heavier with each step. Even though you had been dating for a month, it was nothing like the relationships you’d imagined. There were no sweet goodnight texts, no surprise visits, no real affection beyond holding hands. He never let you into his world—into his home or his heart.

Finally, when you reached the school gates, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. The words spilled out before you could stop them.

“Jay...” You called his name softly, biting your lip, your hand clutching your bag tighter.

He turned to you, his expression unreadable. “Mm?” was all he hummed in response, his voice low and casual.

You felt your heart race, unsure if you were being too bold or foolish, but you pressed on. “Can you kiss me?” The words came out rushed, your face heating up instantly. You almost couldn’t believe what you’d just said. “I mean—I'm your girlfriend, right... So, can you kiss me? A peck is fine too.”

Jay froze, blinking in surprise. His eyes widened slightly as if he hadn’t expected such a request from you. “Huh?” He coughed, nearly choking on his breath, clearly caught off guard by your sudden boldness. The corner of his lips twitched as though he wasn’t sure if he should laugh or be serious.

You immediately regretted it, feeling your face burn even more. The silence that followed felt agonizing. You could practically hear your own heart pounding in your chest. “Nevermind,” you mumbled, waving it off as you turned away, your shoulders slumping in defeat. Why did I say that? Embarrassment flooded through you, and you started to walk ahead, putting distance between the two of you.

But then, before you could take more than two steps, you felt a sudden tug on your wrist. Jay had grabbed you from behind, his hand firm yet gentle as he pulled you back toward him. You barely had time to turn around before he was there—his lips crashing onto yours.

The kiss was sudden, forceful, and filled with an intensity you hadn’t anticipated. His lips were soft, warm against yours, but there was something almost desperate in the way he kissed you, as if he was letting out something he had been holding back for too long. You were momentarily stunned, eyes wide in shock, but your body responded instinctively, your hands coming up to gently hold onto his shirt for support.

Jay's other hand slid to the back of your neck, his touch delicate but firm, pulling you closer as though he needed to feel your presence, to make the moment real. The world around you seemed to blur, the whispers of students, the hum of cars in the distance—all of it faded as the kiss deepened. You could feel your heartbeat hammering in your chest, but it wasn’t just because of the kiss—it was the realization that, in this brief moment, something shifted. This wasn’t the kiss of someone merely fulfilling a temporary deal.

After what felt like an eternity, Jay slowly pulled back, his breath warm against your lips. He gazed down at you, his usual calm demeanor replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. His hand lingered on your wrist for a second longer, as if he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

“I... I didn’t expect that,” you breathed out, still dazed from the kiss, your cheeks flushed as you stared up at him.

Jay didn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes searching yours, as if debating whether to speak or to leave things unsaid. Finally, he muttered, “You asked for it.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

He shrugged, his lips quirking up in a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Maybe I wanted to.” His voice was low, almost as if he hadn’t meant for you to hear it.

For a moment, you stood there, staring at each other, the weight of the unspoken emotions between you heavy in the air. Maybe this spring wasn’t just a fleeting experience. Maybe, just maybe, something real was growing between the two of you. But neither of you dared to say it aloud.

THE DAY THE LILAC FLOWERS FALL — The weekend sun shone brightly, casting a golden hue over the bustling streets as you wandered aimlessly with Semi by your side. It was a rare day of freedom, a chance to escape from the chaos of school and simply relax. Laughter filled the air as the two of you shared stories and jokes, weaving through the crowd in search of the next spot to explore.

But then, everything shifted in an instant.

Distracted by Semi's teasing, you hadn’t noticed the tall figure walking toward you until it was too late. Your shoulder brushed against his, and before you knew it, the man was glaring down at you with a look that sent a shiver down your spine. “Sorry,” you muttered quickly, lowering your head in hopes that your apology would be enough to diffuse the situation.

It wasn’t.

“Girls like you always do this.” His voice was a low, menacing growl, filled with disdain. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he suddenly reached out, grabbing your wrists with a force that made you wince. The sudden, painful grip startled you, your breath catching in your throat as fear surged through your veins.

Semi, ever the protective friend, immediately rushed forward. “Hey, let go of her!” she demanded, her voice firm despite the obvious tension. But even she hesitated slightly, clearly aware of how much stronger the guy was.

You struggled against his hold, trying to pull away, but his grip only tightened, making you feel more trapped with each passing second. Panic set in, and just as you were about to call out for help, a blur of movement caught your eye.

A sharp, powerful punch connected with the man’s face, and the sound echoed in your ears, causing everyone around to freeze. You gasped as you realized who had thrown the punch—Jay.

Your eyes widened as you watched in stunned silence. Jay had appeared out of nowhere, and now, he was standing protectively in front of you, his fists clenched and his expression dark, far more intense than you’d ever seen before. The guy stumbled back, groaning in pain, but Jay wasn’t done. He lunged forward, landing another punch, and then another, each hit more brutal than the last.

“Jay, stop!” you cried out, rushing toward him, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. You had never seen him like this before, this fierce and angry. He was relentless, and the guy, now bleeding and terrified, tried to shield himself, but Jay didn’t let up.

You reached out, grabbing onto Jay’s arm from behind, desperately trying to pull him away. “Jay, please!” you pleaded, your voice shaky. “That’s enough. Please…”

At your touch, Jay finally froze. His body stiffened as if suddenly aware of what he had done. The guy on the receiving end of his punches scrambled to his feet and fled, not daring to look back, his face bloodied and bruised. You stood there, still gripping Jay’s arm, your breath shaky as you tried to process what had just happened.

Before you could say anything else, Jay turned toward you. In an instant, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. The suddenness of it made your heart skip a beat. His embrace was tight, protective, almost as if he was trying to shield you from the world. One of his hands gently stroked your hair, his touch surprisingly tender considering the fury that had consumed him moments before.

“You could’ve gotten hurt,” he muttered, his voice low and filled with concern as he buried his face into your hair, breathing deeply as if needing to calm himself down.

You stood there in his arms, completely speechless. This wasn’t the Jay you were used to—the distant, indifferent guy who rarely showed emotion. This was different. The way he held you, the way he had rushed to your side without hesitation… it felt real, it felt genuine. For the first time, he felt like a real boyfriend, and the warmth that spread through you at that realization was almost overwhelming.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile as you wrapped your arms around him in return, hugging him tightly. His scent, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat—it all made you feel safe, like nothing in the world could hurt you as long as he was there. You wanted to stay in that moment forever.

But then, of course, Semi broke the silence with a loud, exaggerated cough. You could hear the barely-contained giggles bubbling up in her throat, and when you looked over, she was smirking, clearly enjoying the display of "live romance" that had unfolded before her eyes.

You felt a rush of embarrassment flood through you, your cheeks heating up as you quickly pulled away from Jay’s embrace, though part of you didn’t really want to let go. Jay cleared his throat, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as he glanced between you and Semi.

“Um…” you started, but you weren’t even sure what to say. How could you even begin to explain all of this?

Semi, however, wasn’t going to let you off that easily. She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a mischievous grin. “Well, that was… something,” she teased, folding her arms across her chest. “Didn’t know Jay had it in him to be a knight in shining armor.”

Jay rolled his eyes, though there was a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I wasn’t trying to be anything,” he muttered under his breath, but his hand found its way to yours again, fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture that felt so natural, it made your heart flutter.

“You definitely looked the part,” Semi added, winking at you. “Seriously though, you okay? That guy was a creep.”

You nodded, still a little shaken but grateful. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks to Jay.” You glanced up at him, unable to hide the soft smile on your face. He looked down at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Good,” he said quietly, his eyes lingering on you for just a second longer. There was something in his gaze, something unspoken that made you wonder if this moment had changed things between you two—if maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t just for show anymore.

CLIMAX OF OUR WHITE SPRING DAYS — Graduation day had arrived like a ticking clock you couldn’t silence. The weight of finality pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. You stood in the sea of students, watching the world pass by in slow motion as the sun bathed everything in warm light, but inside, you felt cold.

Your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your gown as you glanced over at him—Jay—standing with his friends, laughing about something that seemed distant and unreachable. The end of your three-month dating experiment loomed over you like a dark cloud. It wasn’t just the end of school. It was the end of him, of being close to him, even if it was just pretend.

“Go talk to him.” Semi’s voice broke through the haze as she nudged you, her eyes filled with that encouraging spark she always had. But you didn’t move. How could you? You weren’t his girlfriend anymore, not even in the superficial way you'd been for these past few months.

You had no right to approach him.

Your chest tightened as you tried to steady your breath, but your eyes betrayed you, drifting back to him once more. The laughter, the movement, the noise—it all blurred, dimming around the edges until it seemed like everyone was fading away, disappearing like smoke in the wind. And then there was just him.

Only him.

The background turned white, stark and empty. The vividness of the graduation, the bright colors of everyone’s robes and caps, the cheerful chaos—all of it vanished, leaving you standing in this surreal silence.

Jay stood alone now, the only one left in this strange world that suddenly felt more dream than reality. He started walking toward you, every step deliberate, but there was something different—something ethereal.

You blinked, unsure of what you were seeing. There was a faint shimmer behind him, something soft and luminous, like wings. Wings? You blinked again, and there they were, delicate and translucent, fluttering gently with each step he took. His face was calm, serene, almost unrecognizable from the boy you'd dated. He was... otherworldly.

Your heart pounded in your chest, confusion twisting through you. “What…?” you muttered to yourself, trying to make sense of it, but nothing made sense anymore.

Jay stopped in front of you, his gaze soft and yet so intense, locking onto yours with an emotion you couldn’t place. Slowly, as if afraid he might shatter the moment, he reached up and grazed his fingers across your cheek, his touch light as a feather.

“You need to wake up now,” he whispered, his voice deeper, gentler than you'd ever heard before. “It’s been too long since you’ve been in the dark.”

His words cut through you, leaving you more confused than ever. Wake up? What did that mean? What darkness was he talking about?

You flinched at his touch, stepping back as your breath hitched. “What are you saying?” The tremor in your voice betrayed your panic. You looked around, desperate to find something familiar, something to cling to. But all you could see was the white, stretching endlessly around you. You couldn’t make sense of anything. Nothing was real.

Your hands flew to your head as a sudden pain pulsed in your temples. Flashes of light blinked before your eyes—images you couldn’t fully grasp, memories or maybe dreams, flashing too fast for you to catch. You dropped to your knees, the weight of it all crashing down on you, confusion and frustration mixing until you couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t—” Your voice cracked as you clawed at the air, scratching your head as if trying to tear away the confusion. “What’s happening?”

The ground felt soft beneath you, like clouds, but the pressure in your chest grew tighter, heavier, as if the world itself was closing in.

Jay knelt down beside you, his movements slow and calm, his eyes filled with something deep, something almost tender. He reached for you again, but you flinched, not wanting to feel the foreignness of his touch.

“Shhh,” he whispered softly, his voice like a lullaby, as his hand hovered over your head. He didn't push. He simply waited, his presence both grounding and terrifying at once. You wanted to push him away, to demand answers, but at the same time, a strange comfort wrapped around you, like a blanket in the middle of a storm.

The world flickered around you, the white light growing brighter, almost blinding.

Jay leaned closer, his face inches from yours. “It’s time to say goodnight,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. Before you could protest, before you could even think, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips gentle and reassuring.

And then, just as quickly as he had appeared, the world around you shifted. The soft white light began to darken, curling at the edges, growing darker and darker until it swallowed everything whole. The last thing you felt was Jay’s warmth before it, too, faded into the blackness. You were alone.

Your breath hitched, and you closed your eyes as the darkness wrapped around you like a heavy blanket, pulling you under.

THE END OF LILAC SPRING — The world felt like it was spinning, even though you were lying still. Blinding light from the overhead lamp above your hospital bed seeped into your barely-open eyes, burning your retinas. The persistent beep of a heart monitor echoed in the room, in time with the erratic pounding of your heart. But the voice that broke through it all— Semi's voice—was frantic, pulling you back to the surface.

“Wake up! Wake up!”

Your eyelids fluttered open fully, only to meet the concerned face of your best friend, Semi. Her hands hovered just above your blanket-covered arms, as if afraid to touch you. Her wide eyes, framed by disheveled strands of hair, looked both relieved and shaken. This wasn’t the Semi you’d known for years. There was something different about her—something less familiar, almost like she was a stranger. And that strange feeling twisted in your chest like a knife.

You blinked, trying to adjust to the light, to the sudden rush of sensations hitting you all at once—the smell of antiseptic, the sound of footsteps outside the door, the faint chatter of doctors and nurses.

But none of that mattered. Where was Jay?

“W-where’s Jay?” you gasped out, sitting up too quickly, causing a sharp tug on the tubes attached to your arms. You barely registered the IV drip dangling beside you or the oxygen clip on your finger. Your mind was racing, your heart thundering against your ribcage as you searched the sterile, white room. He had to be here. He always was.

Semi blinked, her brows knitting together in confusion. “Jay?” she echoed, her voice hesitant as she sat down on the chair beside your hospital bed, shifting uncomfortably. You could see the confusion written all over her face, like she was trying to solve a puzzle but missing the pieces.

Your heart lurched. Why wasn’t she answering? Why wasn’t he here?

“Jay!” you nearly shouted this time, the panic rising in your throat, making your voice crack. “The class leader! He was in the history club too—he was my boyfriend!” Your words tumbled out, desperate, almost pleading with her to remember.

But Semi’s expression only grew more puzzled, her lips parting slightly as if trying to find the right words. She didn’t know him.

“There’s no Jay,” she said, her voice flat, her eyes searching yours as if waiting for a reaction. “What are you even talking about? You’ve been in a coma for almost a year, and the first thing you ask about is some guy?”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. No Jay? No Jay?! You stared at her, wide-eyed, the room tilting dangerously around you. Your breath caught in your throat, and you glanced around again, your head pounding as if your brain couldn’t process what she was saying. You could barely hear the doctors' voices outside, your parents’ relieved murmurs from the corner of the room.

“I—I don’t understand.” Your voice trembled, and your fingers clutched the thin hospital blanket in a white-knuckled grip. How could Jay not exist? How could she not know him when every single day had been filled with him? “We were together, Semi. He was real. He was real!”

But Semi wasn’t budging. She leaned back, crossing her arms, frustration flickering in her eyes. “You were in a car accident. Do you remember that?” she asked, her voice softening slightly, though there was still a hint of disbelief. “A car crash. Blood everywhere. That’s why you’ve been in a coma.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as her eyes flickered to the tubes attached to your body. “That’s why you’re here.”

Your body went cold. A coma? Blood? The words bounced around in your head, but they didn’t stick. Your hands trembled as they reached for the bed’s railing, trying to anchor yourself. You could still feel Jay’s presence, still remember his smile, his touch, the way he’d whispered goodnight to you... before everything went dark.

A cold shiver ran down your spine, and your throat tightened as you managed to ask, “W-what date is it?”

“September 20, 2024,” Semi replied, her voice barely audible, but it hit you like a tidal wave. September.

Your eyes widened as the pieces began to fall apart in your mind, crumbling like ash in your hands. The school year, the three months with Jay, the spring—none of it had been real. None of it.

Tears welled up in your eyes as the weight of it all settled in your chest like a boulder, pressing down, squeezing the air from your lungs. A quiet tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, turning to look out the window as if the outside world could give you some semblance of reality.

Beyond the glass, the sky was painted in soft shades of pink and orange, the setting sun casting a warm glow over everything. Lilac flowers fluttered from a nearby tree, caught in the gentle breeze. They swirled in the air, delicate and fleeting, just like the memories of Jay.

You watched them fall, your heart aching with a bittersweet pang. Was it all just a dream? Had Jay been nothing more than a figment of your comatose mind, created to fill the emptiness while you lay in the dark? The thought was unbearable, but the more you tried to hold onto him, the more he slipped away—like the lilac petals, fading from your reach.

But somewhere deep inside, beneath the confusion and pain, a small part of you hoped—hoped that he was real. That maybe, somewhere, in some other world, Jay existed, waiting with that final page of your story. And though you couldn’t be sure, you held onto that hope, because the goodbye—his goodnight—had been too sweet, too tender to be nothing at all.

With trembling hands, you let the last tear fall, watching as the petals danced in the wind, disappearing into the horizon. Even if it was just a dream, you wished for one more chapter—one more part in the story that had been left unfinished.

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vrystalius · 3 days

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Would be willing to do like ,, Rengoku x reader that takes care of Senjuro while he’s away on missions ? Rengoku deserves some love but so does his little brother <333

Visiting the smallest Rengoku.

You had nothing to do with Kyojuro being away on an important mission, so you decided to visit his younger brother.

Pairing: Kyojuro x reader, platonic/familial Senjuro x reader

(A little angsty by the end)

Your husband has been away for a couple days now. You prepared a large pot for miso soup and some sweet potatoes for your husband to enjoy when he returns from his long mission. After finishing your chores, you decided to pay Senjuro a visit and to help him out a little. You knew that he’s working hard to keep everything together in his family home with Shinjuro doing nothing but cause a mess and drink all day every day, leaving the youngest Rengoku family member to take care of himself and his drunkard father.

You always pitied Senjuro for needing to grow up so fast and barely experiencing childhood. His mother died too early in his life, meaning he barely remembers her. But you also know how much your husband Kyojuro dotes on his little brother and wishes for him to be nothing but happy. Sometimes, you two thought about moving Senjuro to your house, away from Shinjuro and the verbal abuse.

You made sure to prepare Senjuro a small home cooked meal before heading out. You weren’t sure what his favourite food was, so you went with something Kyojuro would’ve liked: sweet potatoes with some rice and fried vegetables and some Mochi you bought from a vendor on your way to the residence. You were sure Senjuro’ll appreciate some home-cooked food! He hasn’t been cooked for in a while.

Upon your arrival, you sound hin sweeping the porch, removing the yellow and orange coloured and dried leaves.

“The leaves match your hair, Senjuro!”

Hearing your voice call out to him so suddenly made him flinch and stiffen up, but his shoulders visibly relaxed after spotting you. Senjuro smiled shyly and waved.

“My brother isn’t here if that’s why you came to visit. He still should be on a mission.”

You knew that Kyojuro’s little brother still has to get used to you being around and marrying his older brother, but you also heard from him that Senjuro really admires you. You haven’t interacted a lot, but everytime you did, his eyes would sparkle in fascination. He always asked you about what you do and how it is to live with his older brother. He is also very curious about your cooking and even mustered courage (he received a lot of pep-talking from your husband) to ask for some of your recipes!

After setting down for lunch and presenting your home-cooked meal to him, Senjuro thanked you with a bright smile. He really missed getting cooked meals that aren’t prepared by himself. You insisted on cooking for him and Shinjuro, preparing more lunch and dinner. That way, Senjuro doesn’t have to cook anything today and maybe even tomorrow. He was extremely grateful and tried to help you out as much as possible, feeling a little guilty for you cooking, even though you are supposed to be a guest. He watched you cook over your shoulder, tip-toeing to try and get a better view.

“Can you teach me that recipe? It looks very tasty.”

He’s extremely fascinated by your whole being. You’re so kind, so talented and beautiful, no wonder why his brother married you. Senjuro is extremely glad to have you as a sister-in-law.

After the meal, you suggested to play a round of Shogi with him. You knew that Shinjuro barely ever leaves his bedroom, meaning Senjuro has no one to play or talk with. That poor boy was forced to grow up to fast and never got to enjoy his childhood, so you wanted to help him be a child again. Even if for a little while. You two sat on the porch during the game. He was extremely happy during the whole match, ranting about his older brother and papa the whole time.

“One time, my brother was teaching how to use the fire breathing technique, and I saw flames sparking out of my sword! It was small, but Kyojuro was so proud of me! We went to town and got a bowl of ramen together. Our father scolded us for coming home so late…”

Senjuro’s eyes were sparkling and a big smile was plastered on his face while moving his pieces. In the end, you let him win to make him just a little happier. But just as he was about to celebrate, Kyojuro’s crow quietly flew above the residence, landing right beside you two. It was quiet for a couple moments before finally announcing what he came here for.

“The flame pillar! The flame pillar fought Upper Moon Three! Upper Moon Three!”

Silence draped over you three as all of you and Senjuro both knew what was the crow was about to announce next. You glanced over at the youngest of the Rengoku’s.

His hands were tightly gripping his hakama pants as his gaze was fixated on the shogi pieces. Tears started forming in the corners of his eyes.

You knew your husband won’t be coming back for the miso soup and sweet potatoes you left at home for him.

💠

I am going to sob during Akaza’s backstory reveal and death, but I probably sobbed more over Kyojuro’s. Senjuro doesn’t deserve anything that happened to him and I’m so glad Shinjuro changed for the better in the end!!. Thank you for requesting this and sorry for the wait!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

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m3vl0vesu · 2 days

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𝑨 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅

..............................................................................................................................

He didn’t smile.

That was one thing you noticed about the only other kid in the classroom, one of the many Wayne kids.

And apparently the only biological one, not that you cared really. His family was none of your business, you should really be more concerned about your own to be honest…never mind. You closed your eyes and sighed, catching the attention of the boy, who was now sitting in your chair. Well it wasn’t yours but it was yours. He watched as you adjusted the pile of sketching paper slightly to the right, making sure they were all aligned perfectly. He watched you watching the boxes full of dis-arranged paint tubes and bottles, he saw the way your hand twitched at the scene. Weird.

It was a Thursday afternoon and every Thursday, after last period, you would head towards the art room upstairs. It was the only club you ever joined. You got to know everyone there and some even became your friends. But even after the club ended you’d still linger in the room. Even after you'd cleaned up your (and other people’s) mess, and you had put the pencils away, and you had cleaned the paint pots, you lingered. It had become a habit, you enjoyed the quietness. You enjoyed that the only noise you could hear was your breathing. What you didn’t enjoy was that the ‘new’ kid also liked staying behind.

Ruining one of the only times your mind was quiet…or quieter than usual. I mean it’s not like he was loud or anything no-it was just his presence, you wanted to be alone-no. Needed do be alone. But what can you do? He liked art. He was damn good at it too.

So there really was no point in being annoyed, just suck it up and deal with it. Like you always do. Why do you always do that? After another sigh, you swing your bag over your shoulder and walk out. You didn’t mean to slam the door, honestly there was no reason for you to be angry, Damian didn’t do anything wrong. Damian. Damian. Ugh. Why was his name also annoying? . . . As you turn the corner you stop abruptly. Looking up you meet the eyes of your Art teacher, Miss Williams, she looked down with an eyebrow raised. You smiled. You really did adore her and her loving nature, she was like a big mama bear. Gotham didn’t deserve her. She was so…her.

Every other day she had some new fun way to do her hair, today her afro was star-shaped. Fitting. You smile softer, the sound of her voice saying your name pulling you out of your trance. “You're leaving earlier than usual” she states, almost concerned, “is something wrong?” You just shake your head, leaving after a simple goodbye

The bus was almost empty. Your eyes stared at Gotham Academy until it was out of sight. It was a big school, you hated it.

Hated the rumour-filled halls, the rude pompous pricks that roamed the halls, hated that you were on a scholarship for so therefore could not escape it. And you especially hated how proud your mother looked whenever she saw you in the uniform. As the bus continued to drive you watched the big mansions and penthouses turn into dirty streets and run-down apartments. It was a big difference. Messy, dirty, bloody…home. Your eyes spotted the way the bus driver’s lips tugged upwards as you gave him a small thank you. It was probably the only nice words he heard today, it was probably the only nice words you said today. The worn-out soles of your shoes hit the ground and you begin walking, just a few minutes away from home. Each leaf you stepped on getting more darker than the last, it was almost winter. That meant that after school clubs would be closed. Barely even any schools even have after school clubs in the area, since it’s Gotham. .

. After a call with your mother you slowed down, not really wanting to go home. It was quiet on the streets. Oh wait.

Now it wasn’t. There was shouting, it sounded like two-or more-male voices. You see, there's a rule when you walk the Gotham streets. Do not, whatever you do, look. Just keep walking. And you do. Don’t look. Keep walking.

Don’t look. Keep walking.

Don’t look. Keep walkin- . . . After the very obvious gunshot you heard a distant thud.

Your feet stopped and your knees felt weak, bile rising in your throat as you stared wide eyes at the pavement in front of you. Don’t look.

You beg yourself not to turn around.

So you close your eyes, and beg yourself not to open them. . . . Small arms wrap around you as you lay in bed, your sister mumbling about something going on with her friends. The rest of your journey home was a blur, all you know is that you will not be going school tomorrow. Even if that means lying to your parents. . . .

..............................................................................................................................

>>>>Pt.II

A/N: This is going to be a story based fic with some dark themes. Feel free to click off if any of it disturbs you in any way. I know there wasn’t much Damian in this but there will be more in pt 2! I always try to keep Reader as ambiguous as possible, this is a f!reader fic but you can read no matter what gender! :D Reblogs are always loved and as always Mev loves you!!

#m3v loves you #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #f!reader #damian al ghul x reader #dark themes #original character #original character x reader #platonic!original character x reader

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winterzsurprise · 3 days

Text

Change My Mind [3]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but what you can't do is accept the fact that they're your soulmates.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory

Words: 8.8k

ao3 is down so I'll update it first here. Chapter got delayed since this wasn't originally part of the roster. its currently 1am so there will be mistakes I missed but that's for future Winter's problem.

edit: please comment if you want to be added to the tag list :DD

[1] [2] [3]

__________

For a guy with his heart on his sleeves and his emotions displayed so loudly on his face like neon signs with gigantic arrows, Taehyung is an enigma.

It didn’t help that he had experience in acting, if anything it made it harder to understand him.

One moment he's supportive of your quest for a perfect husband then another, he's raging with a jealousy even the power of the thousand burning suns couldn't replicate. Even when Guwon has long disappeared, Taehyung didn't stop from hanging off of your arm when the three of you had entered your home.

In the short time they had stayed over, he made sure he was somehow close to you or having you within his sight while Jimin returned to being the sweet boy he had always presented himself as but the glint of something dark in his eyes never disappeared.

But it didn't make any sense. All of their behaviors, even Jimin, is confusing.

Taehyung had introduced a date to the group before, and had hooked up with a few people from the after-parties if the others’ words were anything to go by. Jimin is the same, although he took every chance to flirt with you at any time and everywhere, you always thought it was him being his playful self. But after last night?

You don't know.

And you hate not knowing.

To find out that Jin still liked you was shocking already, then comes this new realization—along with the impacts of Jungkook’s confession—to knock you off of your feet. You thought he had moved on like he had said years before, but last night's conversation had told you otherwise.

“That's the tenth time I've heard you sigh just this hour alone and we're only drinking coffee, what’s wrong?”

Your head shot up to meet the concerned gaze of the oldest make-up artist. Jihae is one of the original staff back from 2013, the woman who had picked you up when you tripped in front of the BigHit building crying with your bag spilled out, having been given a low grade in one of your subjects.

They were lacking in staff back then, urgently searching for another body to help with the debut look and when she saw your cosmetic bag, she tugged you inside and told you to agree with whatever they were going to ask.

Stunned, you followed the woman without question.

A month later, you dropped out of the nursing course your mother had insisted you take and pursued cosmetology.

Many times have you looked back at the memory and grimaced. It could've gone wrong, she might've been leading you into a trafficking ring but nonetheless, you're glad you had accepted it.

All because Jihae had seen you with mascara-stained tears and somehow deemed you skilled enough for the job. Up until today, you still wonder what she had seen in an emotional teenager who had comically tripped face-first in the company’s front yard, mascara running down her face and thought: ‘She’d be a good addition’ .

Whatever it is, you're thankful.

“Hey, you still with us?”

Snapping out of your trance, you wearily smiled at her. “Yes I am, unnie. Just frustrated about something...”

At this, multiple heads turned to you, their stares a varying mix of curiosity and teasing. Suddenly reminded of the group lunch Jihae had proposed that day, a bonding exercise for the entire make-up artists roster, for better teamwork, she had said and internally facepalmed. You had forgotten that it wasn't just your friends sitting on the table with you and you had just aired your problem out in the open for them to hear.

Fuck Kim Taehyung and his confusing attitude. You should beat his ass next time you see him for being the catalyst to the dilemma haunting your mind.

Leaning closer to you, Nabi—another friend of yours—crossed her arms and flashed a shit-eating grin.

“Is it boy problems?”

Instantly, the table explodes into chatters, all of their questions drowning each other.

“Which one of them?”

“Did someone from Bangtan confess to you, unnie?”

“Is it Hoseok? Please say it is! I have a bet with someone from the styling department.”

“Was it Taehyung? I always thought he had a crush on you for a whi—”

“It's not any of them, please we're just friends.” You interjected before they dig further and find truth in their questions. “It's a different guy I've had two dates with.”

Never had you sounded more unsure of yourself until now and you had wished nobody had noticed. But one look around the table says differently. Your friends’ eyes glinted, all of them telling you that this discussion was far from over and you find yourself already dreading opening the groupchat once you're home. But unlike them, someone wasn't satisfied with your answer and crossed her arms from the other end of the table.

“Why so dismissive, unnie? We're all friends here, no need to be so defensive.”

Immediately, the ones closest to her snapped their heads at her with a scandalized look. Alexa was a new recruit, A half-Korean and half-Chinese who lived in the States for a better half of her life, had just joined the week before the first leg when one of the crew went into labor and had recommended her cousin as her last minute replacement until she could return.

In the short time she had been in the company, there had been whispers and none of them were positive. Rumors of an unhealthy obsession hidden beneath the skillfully applied make-up that granted her a younger and cuter appearance, hushed stories of their encounters where she'd reveal her soulmate mark—inked initials, and written on her wrist is a K.S.J, something she boasted around with a smug look, as if to imply something you refuse to entertain.

It was absurd.

Seokjin was untethered, if he got a soulmate mark out in the open, he would've screamed it on top of the world. Delighted and in cloud nine at the thought of having someone destined for him. Not to mention, it meant that he didn't need to go through any of the shit you've gone through, going through dates after dates looking for someone better to settle down with only to be met with constant disappointment at the end of the day.

(You'd also be the first to know. He would've ran to you and asked if you manifested a mark too, but for your sanity, you pushed the thought at the back of your head as soon as it came.)

To say, to imply that Seokjin’s soulmate is the kid on the side of the table, it almost made you grimace.

“Hey Alexa, I know you're just new and a foreigner but that doesn't mean we'd let you disrespect your seniors!” Minhyuk, someone who had quickly wormed into your friend group last year, had jumped to your defense.

Alexa scoffed. “I'm just saying, no need to be so secretive, unnie. Everyone in this table knows how close Bangtan is to you. Everyone is wondering if you've at least dated one of them.”

“Hey Alexa, that's a bit…”

“Why are you guys looking at me like that? I'm just saying what you're all thinking,” She looks back at you. “I've seen how they look at you, surely you've at least had a fling with someone.”

Your brows shot up, incredulous and shocked by her audacity but before you could bite back, Minhyuk stood abruptly, face darkened with pure unadulterated anger.

“Oh this—” Nabi and you were quick to tug him back down to sit.

At the commotion, everyone in the cafeteria shifted their attention to your table, inquisitive and curious of what might've set off the resident social butterfly, someone who everyone knows the name of and has been at the end of his constant kindness.

Minhyuk is a passionate soul, especially towards his job and friends. Having been kicked out for being himself, he turned to the very skill that had his father screaming expletives at him. Recommended by Jihae, who had been visiting a nearby friend at the time and was passing by his street, had found him crying in the rain, outside the gate of his family house. She had taken him home and the rest was history.

There's never been a time when you've all hung out, five emptied bottles of Sojus later, where he wouldn't be crying, thankful for the chance your eldest had given him before turning to you, sobbing loudly and hugging you and the rest of the group in a tight grip. Heart full of gratefulness for his new found family.

So there was no shock that he had been the first one to jump at the first sign of aggression towards your group.

“Everyone is looking, hyuk. Let's calm down.” Nabi whispered to him, eyes cautious and Minhyuk grunted.

“She's lucky we're in public, I would've torn her down for that comment.”

At the end of the table, Alexa scoffed, incredulous. “Are you seriously mad that I'm saying my opinion? Is it a crime to express their own opinion these days?”

“Not when it's as rude as yours.”

Jihae sighs. “Calm down the both of you. Remember that you're working right now.”

You didn't doubt that everyone in the company has speculated about your relationship with Bangtan. It's hard not to when the maknaes hang onto your words and comfortably play around with you, especially not when you have dinner at their dorm every other week so you didn't blame the newbie for being curious.

That's what you would've felt if she hadn't been going around planting ideas into people's heads that she might be Jin’s soulmate like the delusional slug she is.

You had half a mind to loosen your grip on Minhyuk and let him wipe the floor with her unnecessarily expensive work clothes.

Shrugging both your and Nabi’s arms from his, Minhyuk stands up again only to walk away from the table. Instantly, the rest of your group follows him as he marches through the gathered crowd in the cafeteria and in front of the closed elevator.

You trailed behind him, waiting for his eventual frustrated explosion as he always does after an encounter with Alexa since she was hired. Once you were all far enough, hidden away from the prying eyes of the public, he threw his head back and let out a loud, exasperated groan.

“That girl I fucking swear!” He growled as combed his long hair back. “Why did we even let her continue working after the tour?! We could've just found a better alternative, she's getting into my fucking nerves!”

Nabi sighed. “It's not like we have a final say in this, hyuk. Whether you like it or not, we'll be stuck with her until Hyuna comes back.”

“God,” He groaned. “You should've let me hit her once! I'm so tired of hearing her bullshit! Surely, you've heard the lie she's spreading around right?!”

“Like Nabi has said, we can't do anything unless it starts to hurt the reputation of the idol. She's smart for not saying it outright and somehow containing it within the styling departments.” Jihae responds with a defeated shake of her head.

The answer didn't satisfy Minhyuk, who then turned to you with a pout and wide puppy eyes before promptly stomping over and taking both your hands in his.

“Surely you can pull some strings, noona? Tattle off to Namjoon hyung or Seokjin hyung, surely one of them would do something, right?”

You almost considered his suggestion. Alexa had been grating your gears ever since she arrived to replace Hyuna. You had excused her lack of cooperation with the team for being a newbie and clumsy mistakes of haphazardly leaving her items everywhere for the stress of the new environment she was suddenly put in. But for her to go around implying Seokjin is her soulmate is another can of worms you didn't even want to open.

The mere thought of her existing on the same floor as Seokjin invokes an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach.

But unfortunately, even if you had tattled to Namjoon about her, nothing would happen since it's not too drastic of an event to fire someone over for. It's also just not a good idea overall. The tour is set next Wednesday and while Alexa doesn't cooperate with most of the team, she unfortunately got the skill to back her up. Her skills nearly compensate for her rude personality.

Almost.

“They won't fire someone over a small argument, Hyuk. Just suck it in until Hyuna returns.”

“Which will be in December after Japan,” He mulls it over before shaking his head. “Yeah no, I don't think I can tolerate her nasty ass that long.”

The elevator opens—Jihae had called it the moment they've arrived, bless her—and everyone piles in. It was a quick ride, the stylists being on the floor below the cafeteria. In a flash the metal doors parts opened and you all walked out. But before you could follow your friends back into your department, your phone vibrated from your pocket.

Slowing down, you pulled the device out and looked at who's texting you.

[13:02] Hobi: can ask you a favor

[13:02] Hobi: just an itsy bitsy favor 🤏🤏

[13:02] Hobi: I promise it's harmless😁

There's also a text from Guwon not too long ago. Something you missed while you were lost in your thoughts earlier.

[12:30] Guwon: Eat your lunch soon!

[13:03] You: hi sorry late reply, I was having lunch with my co-workers, couldn’t use my phone during.

[13:03] You: I hope your lunch was good😁

You briefly grimaced at how robotic your reply sounded before returning to Hoseok who had sent another text.

[13:03] Hobi: don't leave me on seen please😢

[13:03] Hobi: noona noona noona noona noona

[13:04] You: hoba hoba hoba hoba hoba

[13:04] Hobi: YAY

[13:04] You: how can I help you?

[13:05] Hobi: can you deliver lunch to hyung?😁

[13:05] Hobi: I would do it myself but I'm currently helping Seokjin hyung and Namjoon with the dance

[13:06] Hobi: and we both know Yoongi hyung wouldn't eat on time if I do it

[13:06] Hobi: can you do it for me?🥺

[13:06] You: sure, you guys still in the dance practice room?

[13:07] Hobi: ur a life saver

[13:07] Hobi: an angel in disguise

[13:07] Hobi: but yes😁

[13:08] Hobi: just knock on the door when you're here😁

“Y/N?” Jihae asks and you look back up to see your group waiting for you.

“Who is it?” Nabi adds.

“Better be news of Alexa getting fired. If not, I don't want to hear it.” Minhyuk says as he crosses his arms. You shook your head and he threw his hands up in frustration.

“Got asked to help with something but I'll be back in a moment.”

With a brief goodbye, you turned back to the elevator and directed yourself to the floor where the dance practice rooms are at.

The walking distance from the elevator is not too far from the dance room but seeing five familiar teenage boys speaking in hushed whispers and hitting each other's arms in front of the vending machine just a feet away from the door easily distracted you.

If they had been crowding around the machine, you would've thought they were fighting over the last snack but instead they were all facing the same direction as your destination.

Sneaking up to the five giants, you're slowly introduced to the dilemma they were hitting and pushing each other for.

“You're the oldest, you should go and knock!”

“Just because I'm the oldest doesn't mean I should always be the first! Why are you even ordering me around?! Go ask Huening Kai instead!”

“Why me? I can't talk in Korean, I-I’m foreigner .”

“Oh don't you pull that shit on us. How are you only a foreigner when it matters?!”

“What are we talking about?”

Three shrill screams pierced through the air as the five of them jumped back, awkwardly long bodies falling against and clutching onto each other for dear life, all of them huddling onto the next body for protection. But once they recognize you, Yeonjun immediately regains composure and breaks off from the cluster to stomp over to you with his bottom lip jut out as he dramatically latches onto your arm.

“Noonaa, why would you scare us like that?!”

When you first met Yeonjun, he was standing in front of the cafeteria bar in front of the exhausted cashier and the long irritated line of workers, peering up onto the menu before looking down to count his money. He looked like a little kid lost in the sea of busy adults, painfully alone and helpless as the hungry customers behind him began to complain loudly.

He had been holding up the line as he recounted his change once more, hoping he had miscounted and that he could afford what he was eyeing. Seeing his hopeful expression crumble into defeat was enough to make you approach him and buy him lunch.

Yoongi had teased you when he found you being trailed by another kid, saying you were collecting every doe eyed kid in the company and becoming their reliable older sister. Especially when his soulmates began to follow his footsteps.

“What were you guys doing? Fighting against who gets the last chip?”

Beomgyu then ran to wrap his arms around yours, the sweetest and most innocent smile plastered on his face as the two boys began to walk you forward, the destination? The dance studio.

“You know that we love you right, noona?”

Why these kids are genuinely intimidated by your sweet Hoba is beyond you. The man screams and flinches at the smallest of bugs daring to exist two feet away from him. Still, you entertained them with a raise of an eyebrow and Yeonjun continued.

“Our favorite make-up noona, the greatest sister figure we have ever had, my savior and my salvation, our dearest credit—”

“Okay, what do you guys want?”

You all stopped in front of the dance room door. IDOL was blasting on the other side of the wall, the floor vibrating with the beat. Although muffled, you could pick up the sound of shoes squeaking against the floor and heavy footsteps accompanying the song.

“Could you pretty please knock on the door?” Beomgyu asks, pleading and also hopeful and the rest of his brothers chimed from behind you with their own versions of the request which ended up sounding like a bunch of warbled words.

“Couldn't you have done that yourselves?”

“But they're busy and J-Hope sunbae is scary.” Taehyun quietly adds behind you.

“Hoba? He's the sweetest though?”

“Okay, let's not lie to ourselves now,” Huening Kai shoots back before motioning to the door. “Just… knock and we'll handle it from there. We promise!”

“Cross our hearts.” Taehyun says, drawing a cross over his chest. The other four follow.

Dance teacher Hoseok to you is a hoax. You've never been subjected to his intense scrutiny and harsh perfectionist side, always managing to slip past or only being able to meet him outside of the workplace where he'd be far relaxed and cheerful.

Sure there's been plenty of photographic and recorded evidence posted in the group chat but you still find it hard to believe he's more frightening than the bugs that scare him off the room.

“He's not that scary, guys.”

Taehyun scoffs. “Easy for you to say.”

“Crush privileges.” Soobin quietly adds.

“What—”

The door swings open before you could ask what he meant and Jungkook steps out of the room.

In a span of a second, the memories of his drunken confession flashed before your eyes. From the moment he had entered your home with bags of snacks to the way his voice had sounded, hushed and shaky, when he asked you for a kiss.

Seeing him again outside the concert where Namjoon and Yoongi had made sure there were no contacts between the two of you, evoked a weird sense of longing within you. Having absolutely no contact with Jungkook for two days had you missing and recollecting your past memories with him. In the short amount of time you've been away, you wondered about many things.

From something as headache-inducing variations of hows and whys questioning his attraction to you to something more simple and short like ‘how is he feeling right now?’.

It was a dumb question with an obvious answer yet you wanted to know. Curiosity and anxiety clawing at your chest.

Is your friendship still okay?

Did rejecting someone this time finally ruin your entire dynamic with the group?

Should you have chosen someone as your sister had told you to do?

They have plagued your mind and haunted you in your waking days yet the moment you finally see him, your mouth dries up and your voice dies in your throat.

But before you could even muster the courage to talk to him, he turned his attention to the boys who had retreated behind you the moment the door opened and greeted them with a short bow before walking away, completely ignoring you. Pain blooms in your chest like a thorned vine wrapping and strangling your heart tighter and tighter as you watch his back disappear around the corner.

“Did sunbae just ignore noona?”

“Is that even possible?”

“I didn't hallucinate that, right?”

“Noona, are you okay?” Soobin’s concerned voice, soft and cautious, brings you back to reality and you turn to them, a precariously built smile on your face.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The five shared a look as you stepped into the studio, exposing you to the two figures laid on the floor, heaving and panting. The main topics of your thoughts sitting at the far corner next to the black plastic table while Hoseok stood in the middle of the room, unaffected by whatever had happened and was chugging the water from the small bottle in hand.

As if he had grown a sixth sense for you, he suddenly spun around, a wide grin brightening his stern face.

“Noona!”

At this, the two men on the floor perks up. Namjoon merely waves before promptly dropping back down, Jimin and Taehyung only smiled at you, looking spent from whatever routine Hoseok had them do before turning to the two tallest. Seokjin had pushed himself up to stand and approach the black plastic table from the other end of the room where a dozen take outs were.

As Hoseok approached you, his gaze then found the cluster of five heads peeking through the sides of the entrance and laughed.

“You’ve got five ducklings following you, noona, didn't know you started collecting more after our maknaes.” He jokes before turning to the teens and waving them over. The group then spread to occupy the space in the doorway and bowed. “What can I do for you guys?”

They suddenly disappear behind the wall but you hear them hitting each other and their whisper-shouts, it took a long while before Soobin was pushed out of the shadow and forced to talk to their sunbae. The painfully shy teen shuffles over, shoulders folded forward and taking the smallest of steps forward before stuttering a bow.

A wide smile brightens Hoseok's face, endeared by the boy’s overly formal actions.

“H-Hi sunbae.”

“Hello, Soobinie.”

“We-we we're just wondering if we-we could watch you guys? Practicing dancing I mean—Not that you sunbaes need it cause you're professionals!—I mean of course you still need to practice to be better at dancing and—wait no—”

“ Yah Soobin, stop embarrassing us like this!” Yeonjun scolds and immediately, the boy almost broke his neck with how face he looked over his shoulder.

“Then go do it yourself!”

“We don't mind, as long as you guys stay in a corner like good kids then we'll all be good!” Hoseok cuts in before an argument ensues.

There's a tap on your shoulder and you look over to see Seokjin standing behind you, a gentle smile playing on his plush lips, both hands hidden behind him.

There's an awkwardness that hung in the air as you both gazed into each other's eyes before he cleared his throat and began.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Yes.” You lie. Jin caught it.

Turning to face him fully, he then takes one of your hands and forces your fingers to hold the neatly folded top of a paper takeout bag.

“I've packed Yoongi’s portion here as well as an extra for you.”

“You didn't need to, I already ate.”

“I even had them order some soft tofu soup, you were craving it last week, right?”

It was sweet being loved so selflessly by him. It tasted like the sweetest nectar from the garden of Eden with a foul aftertaste once your mind reminded you of your sins against the man and the thorned tendrils of guilt coiled tighter around your chest, its sourness easily overlapping the sweetness of his love.

After Jungkook pretending you didn't exist earlier, having Jin, someone who you didn't even know still admired you all these years while you had messed around with many faces and came to work with some of their marks on your skin, expressing his care had you almost bursting at the seams.

It enrages you thinking about Alexa going around spreading her bullshit spiel about being Jin’s soulmate. As if she deserved a morsel of his attention.

Nobody deserves Seokjin, not even you.

“Thank you Jinnie, but I already ate.” You then remembered your promise to return to your friends soon. “And Jihae is expecting me back immediately.”

“Coffee and toast is not lunch.” He deadpans as he takes your hand and forces it to close around the pack. “Just eat it with Yoongi, he'd be happy to be able to eat with someone and I’ll handle Jihae noona.”

“How the hell did you know what I had for lunch?”

Shock crossed over his face and he brought a hand over his mouth. “I was right? I just had a hunch on what you ate.”

“That’s a bit creepy, old man.”

“Maybe it’s a soulmate mark manifesting.” He shrugs but you doubt he meant it in a joking way.

“You’re way past the age, give it up hyung.”

You both turned to the door at Jungkook’s voice. Like earlier, he had strode in without acknowledging your presence, something Seokjin had noticed immediately. His eyes slid to the five boys tentatively pushing each other to the empty corner of the studio before looking back at their youngest.

“How could you insult me like this? I fed you with my hands, you should be addressing me formally with a full 90° bow!”

“I should’ve bitten your hands at least once back then.” Jungkook jokingly muses.

Before you could witness their banter explode, there’s a tug on your shirt and you spun around to face Hoseok who had nudged his head to the door. Jin had already marched towards the maknae before you could even thank him so you left.

Once you were both outside the studio, Hoseok closed the door behind and hugged you.

“Wh-what is this?”

“A thank you hug for being the sacrifice and feeding the grumpy dragon instead.” He says with a laugh but you knew what he was trying to do. It was in the way he tried soothing you with back rubs and this tight hug.

“I’m fine, Hoba. I didn’t expect us to be buddy buddy again after what happened.”

He sighed.

“He still shouldn’t have done that. I’m sure Seokjin hyung will talk to him about it later.”

Stepping back, you shook your head. “No need, I understand why he’s acting like that.”

His eyes regarded your face for a moment before pulling you back in for a hug and nuzzling his head on top of yours. “You don’t have to defend him noona, he’s acting like a child. It's our duty as his hyungs to fix that up.”

“Please don’t. It feels like you’re taking sides, he might think it's unfair.”

He laughs. “Are you kidding? ‘Cause from what I’m seeing, he’s being a petulant child. He should handle the rejection with more grace when it's his fault he’s in this predicament. You know Seokjin hyung warned him, right?”

“He told me when he and Tae took him home.”

“Then you should know better than defend him.” You opened your mouth to refute but he pressed a finger to your lips. “Don't start. He's not the same sixteen years old we had to raise back then, he needs correcting.”

With two hands on your shoulders, he then spun you around and began to push you towards the elevator, leaving no room for an argument.

Once he had led you back to the locomotive, he briefly stepped in to push the correct button for the production floor and stepped back and waved as the elevator wall slowly closed to a shut.

“Now go feed hyung and yourself before you go back to work. Thank you again noona and see you later."

“Special delivery for a grumpy hairless cat!”

A beat.

Then came a grumbled: “Come in.”

Punching the proper strings of numbers on the door code, you open the door to the genius lab to find Yoongi sitting in front of his computer, one ear off of his headphones as he goes back to a specific second again and again.

Situating yourself on the couch next to the door, you place the paper bag on the coffee table and slowly unload all its contents, hoping its smell is enough to deter him from his work just for a second.

Taking one of the containers, you open it to see bulgogi generously sprinkled on top of rice. The savory smell of the dish wafting out almost immediately, and Yoongi visibly perks up from his table; if perking up meant him temporarily stopping his incessant clicking and head tilting a little to the side.

“Is it all bulgogi?”

Placing down the container, you opened the other one to reveal the same dish except this time with fried rice.

“Yeah, you want fried rice or no?”

“Whatever you like less.” He grumbled as he returned to his work.

“That's not a proper answer.”

“Just take whatever you want, I like either.” He muttered.

Staring at the food on the table, you found yourself at a crossroads. The fried rice looks more appetizing than the plain white rice on the other container but you've had enough sodium for the week, having challenged Taehyung, Jimin and Jin to who can eat more ramyeon in one sitting the day before the concert.

But today just doesn't feel like a plain rice type of day.

But fried rice isn't healthy.

“Just choose please, I don't know what I want either.” You groaned out, frustrated.

With a grunt, the man took off his headphones and turned to face you before maneuvering himself closer to the table and picking up the container with the plain rice.

“Stop thinking so much about what is healthy or not,” He remarked as he took a pair of chopsticks from the paper bag. “I could hear your thoughts even with my headphones on and my back turned.”

“Then why tell me to choose if you already knew?”

Yoongi only shrugged as he took his first bite, prompting you to take yours. He seems to mull over something as he chews, staring at the food on the table for a while before placing the container down and leaving the room without a word.

You had learned not to question his confusing actions throughout the years, even then you couldn't help but be bewildered.

When he returned, he was carrying two drinks in one hand. Sprite and Kombucha. Settling back on his chair, he placed down the bottle of Kombucha in front of him before opening the can of sprite and placing it in front of you.

“I don't have any straws on me so you'll have to just chug it.”

People don't usually notice it but you think Jin and Yoongi are more similar in how they show their affections, just in different volumes. Seokjin’s care is always voiced out, always asking whether you want something or not and offering to do or make it for you while Yoongi just somehow always knows what you want and does it wordlessly. Both of them are always willing to provide.

If you had asked them for something as ludicrous as fried cotton candy with melted cheese on top, Jin would complain and express his disgust openly, ranting about the strenuous process while holding the handle of the pan and a spatula in the other while Yoongi would cook it without questioning your sanity.

Either way, it never fails to make your chest warm.

“Thank you, Yoongs.”

He suddenly takes a huge bite, bringing the container close to his face before humming out his response, easily flustered as ever.

You both eat your food in silence. With years of friendship under your belt, you have learned to enjoy the serenity Yoongi brings. It had been rough at the start, his quietness matched with his stoic expression had often led to misunderstandings where you often thought he thinks of you badly for being close to his brothers, especially after Jin’s confession.

He had confronted you once he heard it from Namjoon—who had immediately tattled onto his hyung after you had told him not to tell anyone—, saying he simply had problems expressing himself. You could remember how his hands, despite being entangled with each other, shook with his voice, could recall how he had forced himself to hold eye contact with you when he always had difficulties in holding one.

It was thoughtful and that was the first time you had felt the tingles of warmth in your chest. Teenage you had her feet swept off by a stuttering mess of a guy with eye contact issues.

Despite Jin being the first in the group to confess, Yoongi was the first to touch your heart.

“Why are you looking at me like that?’

You tilt your head. “Like what?”

A conflict of emotion crossed his eyes as he struggled to find the words but before he could, your phone vibrated from your pocket.

[13:54] Guwon: I'm at the cafe close to your building

You almost choked on your spit, surprised by his message. His office was on the other side of the city, why would he drive so far just to get some coffee with you during work days?

Love , a voice answers and you immediately waved it off.

There was no way he had fallen in love with you in such a short time. You have been on two dates with him yet he hadn't asked you to be his girlfriend when there's been multiple times throughout those days and nights he had the chance to do so.

During nights where you'd restlessly toss around on your bed, you found yourself facing one more problem outside of your friends.

You didn't notice when it started when Guwon began to make your stomach churn and it bothers you to the nines at how you were being suspicious of him.

Guwon is a genuinely nice guy with a legit and grand background from what you learned throughout the short time you've been hanging out, his case stories of helping out women stuck in abusive relationships and bringing justice to those the law has failed once proven true when you've typed his name on Naver. The man didn't deserve the doubt twisting in your stomach nor the aversion you were slowly gaining towards him.

Your conflicting feelings surrounding your friends' confessing and odd behaviors shouldn't be affecting your relationship with the man you will marry at some point yet it ended up doing so.

There was something foul and bitter simmering in your guts these days whenever you force yourself to think about him during your time. It burns like bile and tasted like betrayal, almost like unfaithfulness ; you try not to think hard on why you feel this way but it's hard not to when Jimin and Taehyung's jealousy keeps flashing behind your eyelids with every blink.

[13:55] You: Oh wow, which one?

[13:55] Guwon: The one on the left side, Areum Cafe.

[13:55] Guwon: Are you free to get a cup of coffee with me?

[13:56] Guwon: Sorry for springing this up on you

[13:55] Guwon: I missed you🙁

“Who is it?”

“It's Guwon,” You say, scratching your head. “He says he's at the cafe down the road and wants to meet up.”

Yoongi placed down his food and stared at you, long and hard. Cat-like eyes narrowed and observing as he leaned back on his chair. You feel his eyes regard your body language before sighing.

“I assume you need help getting out? I'm not as… bold as the younger ones but I think I can help… somehow”

His appearance would surely help tamper down the discomfort that had bloomed with the recent revelations. Yoongi is intimidating as he is caring, having him next to you would ensure you a shorter time spent with the man, as well as prohibit him from pulling another surprise kiss on you.

But why are you so uncomfortable spending time with Guwon anyways?

You didn't have any problems before, even wanted to sleep with him the night prior so why now?

“How’d you know I need help?”

“You looked like your mother just told you to come to another date.”

Immediately, you ironed out the frown you didn't realize had marred your face.

“I thought you would've been delighted you've finally met your match?”

“I-I am.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue, the sound echoing louder in the silence of the room. “Try again. A little more sure this time.”

You sighed and relented, knowing the man wouldn't let you take a step out of the door if you lied to him again.

“Everything just started feeling wrong for some reason.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, eyes widening with surprise. “How so?”

“You know, when Jimin and Taehyung came over last night to make sure I got home safe, they were acting strange towards Guwon.” When he made no move to respond, you continued. “When Guwon suddenly kissed me, Taehyung looked… scary. Jimin too, if you can believe it.”

“I actually do.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Yoongi goes silent again, mulling over something as his gaze finally met yours for the first time that day. “For someone so perceptive, you're a bit oblivious.”

“What is it?”

“I won't elaborate, I'll let you realize things on your own.”

You groaned, facepalming because ain't no way Yoongi just added more fuel to the forest fire that is your thoughts. The man doesn’t even look aware of what his words had done, reaching over and innocently sipping on his kombucha once more.

“Back to what you were saying, why do you think it felt wrong to see Guwon?”

With his calm voice and the deafening silence of the room, you found yourself comparing Yoongi, who even has his hands folded over his crossed jean-clad legs, to a therapist and laughed.

“Didn’t know I was due for a therapy session when I dropped off your lunch.”

“Well I did, so deal with it,” He placed down his bottle. “Do you need my help or not?”

“Is breathing important? Obviously yes.”

He nods and stands, but not before saying, “I hope you know this conversation is far from over.”

While his presence had given you more peace of mind, leaving the BigHit building with Yoongi—who had forgone his usual outdoor style of beanies and big prescription glasses matched with a black mask in order to appear more intimidating, claiming the beanie softens his edges, something you playfully rolled your eyes at—still felt like walking into your doom.

The moment he steps out of the building, suddenly everyone's eyes are on him. The cool stoicness surrounding him commanded attention and the people listened without complaint, not when Yoongi looked like every highschool teenager's bad boy wet dreams.

Strolling into the cafe is easier with Yoongi trailing behind you like a guard dog; or in his case, a guard panther.

There's something about having the rapper, who has never shown a hint of romantic attraction to you in all your years being their friend, accompanying you to meet the man you might marry once the discomfort born from conflicting feelings subsides. It makes your heart jittery and your stomach twisting uncomfortably, the nerves from meeting Guwon only adding fuel to the fire.

It felt improper somehow, as if you were breaking an invisible rule you're yet to uncover from the depths of your soul.

The tempting aroma of freshly baked buttery goods and roasted coffee beans greeted you the moment Yoongi had pushed the door open for the both of you. In the controlled volume of mixed chatters from different tables, a calm acoustic instrumental flies through the air and you almost forgot what you came here for.

It didn't take long for you to find Guwon sitting on the table farthest from the entrance, secluded and away from the wide glass pane windows. When the door had opened with a chime, the man had raised his head from his phone and met your eyes. You try not to linger on how his expression stiffened when he realized you had Yoongi in tow before a smile wipes it away.

“You see him?” Yoongi’s voice grumbled from behind and you nod. Guwon stands, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor catching his attention. “That him?”

“Yeah, I don't think he's happy I brought you with me.”

He chuckled lightly. “Good.”

Guwon met you both halfway, arms opened wide to greet you with a hug and you let him. When you pull away, his hand casually falls to your waist and your skin scrawls .

Immediately, Yoongi’s eyes drop to look at it but before any hint of emotion breaks onto his face, his cool eyes are already back on your suitor’s face.

“Which one of your kids am I given the pleasure of meeting this time?” Guwon asks before offering his free hand to Yoongi who had taken it with a carefully crafted blank expression and unrelenting stare.

Seeing him remain in eye contact with Guwon surprises you. The man, even after your years of being friends, had never held eye contact for longer than five seconds outside the time he had opened up to you about his struggle with expressing himself.

It made you curious. Why is he provoking him? Is he testing Guwon?

“I'm not one of her kids, I'm actually older than her. Min Yoongi.”

“Yoo Guwon, a pleasure to meet you.”

Even when both their hands had long pulled away from each other, their eyes lingered longer. Challenging on Guwon's part, and taunting on Yoongi's as he stared back, completely unfazed.

Seeing them silently engage in a dick measuring contest, something you didn’t expect Yoongi to ever partake in since he had been loud in his distaste for his own gender, irked you. The tightening grip on your waist didn't help, wanting nothing but to slap it off if it wasn't for your promise to your mother to not fuck this up.

‘If you don't tell them what you're uncomfortable with, then they'll continue on doing it. The other guys out there aren't like us who'd feel guilty if we knew, I fear that they might take advantage of you instead, noona.’ Hobi’s voice echoes in your mind.

Sorry Hoba, I'm trying to make this work. But if this behavior continues, then I'll listen to you.

“I thought you idols are often more busy than the average folk?”

Yoongi sucks air through his teeth before responding. “We were in the middle of a fitting prior. I hope you don't mind me keeping watch, can't have our staff getting distracted by heartthrobs like you.”

Guwon laughed, a little louder than usual.

“She's been telling you guys about me?”

“All the good things, don't worry.” He then turns to you, eyes searching your face for a hint of extreme discomfort before continuing. “I'll go order the others some food.”

Sparing one last nod of his head at the man next to you, Yoongi then turns towards the counter to order. The moment he was out of earshot, dread drops onto your stomach like an anvil and you looked up at the Guwon whose eyes were already trained onto yours, a lazy smile stretched on his lips.

“I assume you’ll be needed back once he’s done?”

“ Yeah, I’m sorry it's just… Wrong timing.”

He waves you off. “Nonsense, it’s my fault for bringing you out of your work. They won’t fine you for this, right?”

“I went with one of my bosses, of course they won’t.”

His eyes studied your face for a moment, searching. For what? You don’t want to know. When he had found whatever it was, his face melts into a softer, more mellow expression and your heart clenches. The outpouring of awe in his eyes felt heavy and thick, it clogs up your throat and weighs your already strained form.

“I missed you.” He whispers with the sweetest of voices. “Did you miss me?”

“I-I do, kept thinking about you...”

The lie weighted like lead on your tongue and burned like acid. Compared to the genuineness practically dripping from his lips, your words fall short in your ears. With the way his softened expression crumpled into a frown, you knew he also noticed the hesitance in your voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry. With the tour being so close and more sponsorship offers coming in, it got a bit stressful than usual.”

When his arms reach around your shoulders and pull you flush to his chest, you will yourself not to tense. You were both hugging in the middle of the coffee shop and you could feel the nearby patron’s stare pressing onto your body, judging and unpleasant. Embarrassment burns your cheeks and the desire to push him away grows.

Even Jimin and Taehyung doesn’t dare to get affectionate in public, none of your friends ever did anything more than a hand on your shoulder to lead you to the correct direction or a pat on the back when Jungkook had more sleep and food ingested, and and you just happen to be assigned to him that day.

You wanted nothing more but to tell him to back off but the words got stuck in your throat.

“Just a tip, she doesn’t like PDA so maybe step away?”

Immediately, Guwon scrambles off of you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Guwon says, his hand falling from your shoulder and down to your arm. You shivered.

A firm and familiar hand lands on your shoulder and Yoongi tugs you back to stand next to him. There’s a set in jaw as his eyes narrowed down at Guwon, the hand replacing Guwon on your arm is tense and rigid but not enough to hurt.

You sensed that he had a lot to say once you were out of sight, all of them expressing his distaste for the man you’re set to eventually marry. Even when you were all standing there, you could already imagine the curses and nitpicked details pouring out of his lips.

“We’ll be going back now,” Yoongi says to Guwon, voice tight as if holding back his emotions as he curtly bowed. “Our leader is already demanding us to come back so we’ll have to cut this meeting short. It was nice meeting you.”

Guwon looked incredulous at the turn of events, eyes shuttering before he nodded in understanding and turned to flash a smile at you.

“Message me when you’re home, alright?”

Yoongi didn’t even linger long enough for you to respond, already walking away. By the time you turned to look at him, he was three gaits away from leaving the coffee shop. With a dip of your head, you sprint to follow closely behind the man now pushing through the door.

You could understand the reason for his irritation, always the most protective out of the bunch and the one with the most to say about men. To see your closest female friend be made uncomfortable by her suitor, a stranger in his eyes, there was no doubt he’d be livid.

But why does he have to walk so fast?!

You’re not physically built to match his pace, he takes one step and you have to do three. It was infuriating but you couldn’t exactly scream at him to slow down in public, catching the attention of other people would only create more problems than you both could take on

He eventually slows down to a halt in front of the double glass doors of the BigHit building and you were able to finally catch up to him. In the lobby, you both calmly approached the elevator, a complete juxtaposition of how hasty you two were not a moment before.

But the moment the metal doors of the elevator shuts, isolating you and Yoongi from the rest, he begins.

“I don’t like him.”

It was stupid but you wanted to know what specific trait he had found irksome.

(Deep down, you knew you were finding a reason to stop, to let go of Guwon and stop this stupid charade.)

“He didn’t even notice you were uncomfortable earlier. When you told us that he’s good, I thought he’d be decent, not top grade bare minimum.”

“H-He was actually good, believe it or not.”

“So he's a pretentious prick?”

You sighed. “H-He just—”

“Hyung wouldn't approve.” Yoongi cuts in, his hardened eyes now piercing through yours, almost taunting you to bite back. “Not just him, everyone would. You'd break poor Jiminie’s heart if you continued seeing him once he found out how he acted today.”

You knew he was guilt tripping you and it was working. But you swore Guwon was better than the others, he had treated you with a gentleness and care your friends had shown yet something had changed after that night.

Was Taehyung's clinginess, their presence in general, been the catalyst?

Had he felt threatened by them showing up? You had established early on that they're your boss and your mother would've mentioned your relationship with the boys in passing at least, so why would he feel threatened by them?

“I know what you're thinking but it doesn't work like that.” His voice, now softer than it had been earlier, pierces through the trance you’ve submerged into. “Even if you had said you’re only friends with them, it's human nature for us to still feel intimidated even if we're just friends.”

“That's dumb.”

He shrugged. “Men are dumb, I'm just slightly better than the rest.”

“That's debatable.” You joked and he raised an eyebrow.

“ Your taste is questionable.” He shot back and you hit his arm in response, making him laugh but it stopped as fast as it came. “I'm serious, hyung won't like it if you continue meeting Guwon.”

“I know, I can already hear him and we're not even there yet.”

“Don’t be dumb, if you want a husband so bad, tell aunt to wait for me to renew our contract next year and I'll marry you.”

He meant it as a joke, you knew that, but you couldn't stop the butterflies in your stomach from fluttering wildly. You're suddenly reminded of a scene from years ago, his alcohol-flushed cheeks pulled taut by the dopey smile stretching his lips wide and his slurred voice admitting something you—until today—have no recollection of what had been uttered.

You both have been battered to the nines, drunken out of your minds and stumbling over the smallest rocks on the street by the time Seokjin and Namjoon had found you halfway home. It was a miracle you both got off unscathed with how giggly and dumbed down you were.

“Bold of you to assume I'd say yes.”

“I got wealth, I got a good mug on me, what else would you need?”

“Seokjin also got those.”

He pondered long and hard, sucking air through his teeth before he turned to you again with a playful glint in his eyes.

“You know what they say about my tongue right?”

He couldn’t say he didn’t expect the punch in the arm that followed soon after.

When the elevator door opens and you both go straight for the dance studio, the conversation about Guwon is put on pause and you dread the moment Seokjin hears what had transpired in the coffee shop when suddenly, Yoongi stills and hissed out a curse.

“ Shit , I forgot Jungkook’s muffins.”

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ewyuzu · 1 day

Text

broken promises

- you (single mother) & little gumi

warning: contains themes of divorce, emotional distress, and family separation. may be sensitive for readers dealing with similar experiences.

it’s been a week since the divorce papers were signed, and you still haven’t quite adjusted to waking up in an empty bed. the house feels unnervingly silent without the familiar sounds of toji’s presence. you pull the blanket tighter around yourself, trying to summon the energy to face the day, but the heaviness in your chest weighs you down.

then, you hear it.

“mom?”

the soft, sleepy voice of megumi calls out from his room, breaking through the quiet. you rub your eyes and force yourself to get up, pushing away the ache of exhaustion. today isn’t about you—it’s about him. you slide out of bed, your feet cold against the floor, and make your way to his room.

he’s sitting up, hair tousled, blinking sleepily as you walk in. his little arms reach out to you, and without a second thought, you pull him into a hug, breathing in the scent of him. his small frame against yours is both comforting and heartbreaking. you can feel how much he relies on you, and the weight of being his sole parent hits you hard.

“morning, sweetheart,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head before pulling away to look at him. his wide eyes, so much like toji’s, peer up at you, filled with innocence.

“are we making pancakes today?” he asks, his voice still laced with sleep.

you force a smile, nodding. “yeah, we can make pancakes. how about we get you dressed first?”

he nods enthusiastically, and you help him out of bed, trying to focus on the simple tasks. you guide him through the motions—brushing his teeth, getting him dressed, combing through his unruly hair. it’s all routine, but every now and then, your mind drifts to how things used to be. mornings like this used to feel lighter, easier, when toji was still around.

you push the thought away. not today.

as you stand at the stove, flipping pancakes, megumi sits at the table, chattering about the park and the new toy he saw on tv. you try to focus on him, but there’s a dull ache in your chest, a reminder of the life you had before, now shattered. when the pancakes are ready, you sit with megumi and watch him eat, his little face lighting up with every bite.

and then, out of nowhere, he asks, “why doesn’t dad live with us anymore?”

your heart stops.

you stare at him, words caught in your throat. he looks at you, expecting an answer, but how do you explain something like this to a child? you put your fork down and try to keep your voice steady, even though your heart is racing.

“well... sometimes, grown-ups have to make decisions that are best for everyone,” you start, feeling the weight of each word. “but that doesn’t mean dad doesn’t care about you. he loves you very much.”

megumi furrows his brow, clearly not understanding. you wish you could give him more, but how do you tell him the truth? how do you tell him that his father was never really there the way he should’ve been?

“does he miss us?” he asks quietly, and the question nearly breaks you.

you force a smile, even though it feels like your chest is caving in. “i’m sure he does.”

megumi nods slowly, but you can see the uncertainty in his eyes. he’s still so young, too young to understand the complexities of divorce, of separation. you want to protect him from the pain, but you know there’s only so much you can do.

that night, after you tuck megumi into bed, you collapse onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. the exhaustion isn’t just physical—it’s emotional. every part of you feels drained. just as your eyes begin to close, you hear a soft whimper from megumi’s room.

“mom…”

his voice is shaky, small, and it instantly pulls you to your feet. you rush into his room and find him sitting up in bed, tears streaking his cheeks.

“gumi, what’s wrong?” you ask, kneeling beside him, brushing the hair from his forehead.

“i had a bad dream,” he whispers, his voice trembling. “i dreamed that you and dad were gone.”

the words cut through you like a knife. you wrap your arms around him, holding him close as he sobs into your shoulder. “i’m here,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “i’m not going anywhere, okay? i promise.”

but even as you say the words, you can feel the weight of the promise hanging heavy over you. how many times have you reassured him, only for life to take a different turn? you hold him tighter, hoping it’s enough to soothe his fears, if only for tonight.

a few nights later, as you sit with megumi while he colours at the kitchen table, he proudly holds up a drawing.

“look, mom! it’s our family.”

you take the paper from him, your heart twisting as you look at it. he’s drawn the three of you—you, him, and toji. all of you are holding hands, smiling. your throat tightens, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say.

“it’s beautiful, gumi,” you whisper, forcing a smile as you blink back tears. he’s so proud of it, so innocent, completely unaware of the reality that you and toji are no longer a family. not in the way he imagines.

he beams at your praise, and you hang the drawing on the fridge, but as you do, the ache in your chest deepens. megumi’s world is still so simple, so full of hope. you wish you could keep it that way forever. but deep down, you know that soon enough, the cracks in the illusion will start to show. and when they do, you’ll have to face them together.

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masonmontz · 6 hours

Text

heey, hope you like it :)

fluff word count: 1,2k

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

You sighed when you stopped the car and saw Mason standing there waiting for you, and as soon as he saw you he walked slowly towards the car looking at the ground.

Rasmus walked in front of the car and greeted you, and you gave him a smile, but you knew neither of them were happy about the draw in today's game.

“Hey babe” you said as Mason sat in the passenger seat, and he just threw his backpack in the back seat and rested his head on the seat.

“Hey” he spoke softly and sighed, and you unbuckled your seatbelt and leaned in to leave a kiss on his cheek. Mason turned his face and you kissed his lip, trying to hug him, but a car honked behind you and you had to let go of him. “What a day.”

You smiled and started to leave the airport parking lot while Mason didn't say anything, and he was quiet the whole way home. It wasn't a bad game, but Manchester United didn't score any goals even with possession, and they missed a lot of chances to score, but you know that's not what's bothering Mason.

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” you asked as soon as you entered the house, without talking much during the journey. You talked about everything except football, and sometimes Mason answered or he just listened to you. “I can make pasta or we can order something.”

“Actually, honey, I'm not hungry, but you can order something for dinner and I'll pay” he said and took off his uniform jacket, and you just shrugged because it's hard to comfort Mason at times like this. “I'm going to take a shower.”

You sighed and went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water and then went back to the living room to look for a restaurant to order something for you, and even though Mason said he wasn't hungry, you knew he would eat your food if you didn't order anything for him.

Fifteen minutes passed and Mason still hadn't come downstairs, which was odd, so you put your phone away after ordering Mexican food for the two of you and went upstairs to talk to him.

You could hear the shower running from the bathroom in your room, so you walked over there only to see Mason with his eyes closed and his hand resting against the wall. He had left the door open, but you still knocked before entering. Mason opened his eyes and saw you, and even though he was sad he smiled at you, making your heart skip a beat.

Mason turned off the shower and you grabbed a towel for him from the counter, and as soon as he opened the shower you handed him the towel, which he thanked you for before starting to dry himself.

You watched Mason dry himself off as you leaned against the bathroom sink, and even though you knew he was sad, you couldn't help but run your eyes over his thick thighs, which looked more attractive every day. Mason wrapped the towel around his waist and you left the bathroom, and when you lay down on the bed, he went to the closet to put on a black sweatsuit.

In less than five minutes he threw himself next to you on the bed, and you just reached out to stroke his damp hair.

“Wanna talk about today?” you asked and Mason closed his eyes, putting his hands on his face. “You don't have to keep it all to yourself, Mase.”

“I’m so frustrated” he said and you sighed, approaching him and placing your face in his neck. “I don't even know why I traveled with the team today if I didn't even leave the bench.”

“You were injured until last week” Mason tends to put too much pressure on himself and that's why he gets so frustrated when things don't go as he expects.

“I know, but Erik said that I was going to play today and he didn't even consider putting me in, it's ridiculous” you just put your hand on his chest and caressed it over his sweatshirt, but it was difficult because Mason spent his vacations training to be in the best shape and return to play and he got injured quickly, and only you saw how he reacted when he received the news that he was injured again.

“You need to be patient, Mason, Coach believes in you and-”

“I've been patient for so long, I just want to play and be a starter in a game for ninety minutes, is it really that difficult?” you could hear the frustration in his voice, and he knows you get sad the same way he does. “I can't stand reading so many bad messages about myself anymore, and it consumes me.”

“I know last season was tough, honey, but everyone knows how hard you worked to get back in top shape this season” you said. “Erik believes in you and so do I. You're there for a reason, you need to understand that the more you demand of yourself, the more frustrated you become.”

“Sometimes I feel like I'll never play like I did at Chelsea and-”

“You know you will, the season has started now, you have many months left to prove everyone they were wrong about you.”

“I just feel like if he had put me in today we would have had a chance, I just watched them and couldn't do anything to help the team.”

“Today's draw wasn't your fault, and yeah, maybe you would have helped if you had played but questioning the coach is not the best idea, Mase. Who knows, maybe next time you'll start as a starter?”

Mason didn't respond and just sighed, but he pulled you against him and wrapped his legs around yours, hugging you while leaving a few kisses on your neck. You laughed out loud as he tickled you because he wouldn't let you go as he laughed with you at your screams.

“Let me go, oh my God” you were out of breath from laughing so hard, and Mason climbed on top of you and finally stopped tickling you, and you pulled him by the neck and pressed his lips against yours. Mason leaned on the bed and when you ended the kiss he looked at you smiling, and you ran your hands over his face, because you love seeing him happy.

“Thank you for this, I know I'm being annoying but you always know how to help me” he said and you just gave him a little kiss. “You’re the best part of me, Y/n.”

“You can talk to me about anything, right? I'll always support you, Mason.” Mason lowered his head to give you another kiss, but the sound of the doorbell interrupted you.

“What’s that?”

“My dinner.”

“Your dinner? How about me?”

“You said you were not hungry” you said as you walked down the stairs, smiling.

“Looks like I'll have to eat yours then” Mason said and took the credit card before leaving the house and going to get your dinner.

You went to the kitchen to get some plates and cutlery and returned to the living room, so you could have dinner as you always do at the coffee table watching some movie.

“Ah, you really know how to make me feel better” he said as he saw you sitting on the carpet.

“Do you want to watch One Tree Hill with me? Please, please” you begged and he smile. “Thank you, that’s why you’re my favorite.”

“Just because I love you, ‘cause I can't stand hearing about Nathan and Haley anymore.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

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newkatzkafe2023 · 1 day

Note

So, How would the Wukong's react to S/O doing something kinda big for them. Like, they've been gone all day and come home to their partner making a dinner date and making sure everything's set up for them to relax together?

Awwww Date night🌹🥂💋💒

(Lmk Wukong) Oh he missed you terribly, you told him you were leaving early for work and that you would be late. Wukong was cool with it but hours and hours and hours later he saw it was it was getting late and he started to miss you, occasionally leaving texts you told him the same thing until you told him to meet him at the park. Wukong was very confused and soon he flew to the park and saw that....

A picnic😮!! Wukong gasped as you said surprise. He teared up and blushed and ran to hug you, he said thank you and he loves you as he sat with you on your date.

(MKR Wukong) He's in one of his moods, he woke up and saw that you weren't next to him. That already pissed him off because you didn't even leave a note. He of course ask if the pilgrims the saw you and they said no, pigsy teasing that maybe we got Tired of him which in return , he got a bruise shin. Luckily Fruity told him that we just went out and that will be back later, Which successfully calm him down. After a while you came back and he was ready to Interrogate you, when you told him that you had a surprise for him. Wukong was confused when he followed you later that night and saw a....

tea shop with a table outside, you told him that it was something nice to do since he's been moody and stress lately. He did look grumpy but the blush tells you he likes it😉😊

(HIB Wukong) You were gone the whole day, and ask Luier and Pigsy to distract Wukong which you went out with Silly girl. It worked for a bit since Luier's motor mouth was useful for once, but he was quick to notice that you weren't there and neither was silly girl. He would have freaked out, if you came back with Silly girl that Exact Second. He was relieved until you put a blindfold on him and told him that you were going somewhere, which confused him and felt you pulling him along. Then after a bit you told him to take of his blindfold and saw....

Fireworks?! you took him to see fireworks, a surprise date, for just the 2 of you. Wukong was stunned, but he pulled you close as a silent thank you.

(NR Wukong) He's pouting all over the garage. You had left for work in the morning which is ok whatever to him but it's around 5 and your still not home. He called and texted you a few times but he only got Voice-mail or has been left on read, now he rarely gets upset with you but it's slowly getting there until you ran in the garage excited. Wukong was Confused, relieved, but still a bit upset with you until you told him...

(You) WUKONG I GOT THE TICKETS!!!!🤩🤩🤩🤩

(Wukong) Tickets??? Tickets for what???🤨

You pulled out the tickets for...

(You) THE DEMOLITION DERBY BABY!!!!!!! PREPARE TO SPEND THE WEEKEND WATCHING CARS EXPLODE!!!!!!!!! I GOT FRONT ROW SEATS TOO!!!!!!!🤩🥳🤯

Wukong felt his anger disappear into thin air, And replace with excitement,Well that explains Why you did so much overtime for your job😊😊😊😊

(Netflix Wukong) He noticed something was missing, Something that's always supposed to be there. Or more like it became part of his life, and because of this feeling Wukong felt empty. He then went to tell Lin about this emotion and emptiness until she asked

(Lin) Did you see (Y/N) yet????

Then it hit him He didn't know if he talked to you at all today, he didn't even remember seeing you and you guys live in the same house. Wukong thanked Lin and went to look for you but he couldn't find you anywhere. He then slowly begin to panic as he had no idea where you are, he freaked out and teared up his thoughts being. Why didn't I pay attention?! What if she's hurt?! What if she got kidnapped?! What if she got sick of me and....abandoned me??😥🥺😭 Wukong Try to remain rational while stopping himself from crying. Then he noticed something on the cabinet, he ask ran and ask Lin to read it for him and it saids,

Wukong meet me by the market at 3 I have a surprise for you🙂

It was currently around 2:45 or something But he was too anxious to wait. So he left the house and went looking for you, he got to the market and saw you, and is that a CARNIVAL?!🎡

You greeted him and told him that a fair was In town and you wanted to spend the day with him in it. Wukong ran over and quickly hugged you tightly, happy to see you, feeling his heart slow down a bit Upon being in your presence. After that you both went in to have a blast😄🎊🎉

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG💋

#monkey king netflix #monkey king reborn #monkey king x reader #nezha reborn #lmk monkey king #monkey king hero is back #x female y/n #date night

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ashbeneviento · 1 day

Text

Alkaloids of a Lady

Donna Beneviento x Fem!reader. Slow burn, will contain smut at some point, tags will be updated. Reader is named but only title/Last name! Contains 1st and 2nd chapter. No beta reader, sorry for any grammar mistakes! Thanks for reading :)

Chapter One

As fast as the good of the day came so did the bad. You had been sitting in this chair for so long sweat was making your thighs stick. You squirm at the uncomfortable sensation and refrain from audibly announcing your boredom.

A cough from the other side of the room catches your attention, a cocky and greasy man who gives you a seductive wink the second you make eye contact with him. Feeling the knot twist in your stomach you quickly avert your eyes back to the goddess who still isn’t finished with her speech.

There you were, the only Lady who wasn’t given Mother Miranda’s dark gift, sitting in the middle of all five of them. Six if you counted the little pest supposedly named Angie, all because you needed the cults help. Miranda kept her most devout followers in constant stress with you. They despised their Mother’s grace towards you..to them, you were just as low as a common villager despite your status.

A status that you were born into, not blessed with by a stroke of luck. Miranda promised no harm to your family as long as you respected her status as goddess, and so the village has lived under dual rule for centuries. For whatever reason this caused her lords a piculiar revirily with you, like playing a game that wasn’t done all at once. One that you didn’t know they were playing, too.

It wasn’t unusual that you’d find yourself here either, joining meetings was mandatory and you had to keep up the act. Dissect the cult of the black god, act as a devout follower. Learn their weaknesses. Formulate the plan to eradicate.

But even you were getting restless as Miranda kept up the same spiel. Her plans never change, she never acts out of her facade. It made you antsy. You need to see them all fall in your lifetime. You would make your ancestors proud by being the one to take it all for yourselves.

You saw the perfect opportunity much to your mothers dismay due to your condition. Having any sort of ailment was like a moth to a flame with Miranda you’ve noticed. Once you had convinced her that you were so devoted, so desperate you would sacrifice yourself to her dark gift you had succeeded further than any Acheron before you. No, you mustn’t stop now. Not when you were so clo-….

“Lady Acheron?”

The sound of the goddess’s voice startles you out of your thoughts, causing an eruption of laughter from that same greasy man from earlier. He’s quickly berated by the monolith of a woman Lady Dimitrescu who stares down at you as she does, but not because she cared about you.

“Enough, Karl..” Miranda hisses, siliencing the both of them as she steps down from her stage, walking towards you with a surprisingly feather light step for a predator.

“Wait ails you little bird? Are you feeling alright?” She asks in a sickingly sweet voice that leaves honey on your own. You hated the blatant infantilizion in front of the others. Her sharp nail guards feel like ice as she grips your face awaiting your answer, staring down at you with those equally icey eyes.

“Just feeling more sickly today than usual, Mother” you lie effortlessly to her, making her give in to your plan unknowingly with that practiced tremble in your tone.

“I know little bird..” she whispers, turning your head side to side in her grip, “That will all be over after tonight”

Despite being part of the plan, you were still very nervous. To be truthful you didn’t think this far ahead, only because you really couldn’t if you tried.

The dark gift affected each Lord differently. Many other subjects have fallen to it, dying before they even start mutating. Your chances of survival will be a hit or a miss, but the opportunities you could take if you lived outweighed all of it.

So you give her a shy smile and nod your head, clasping to her forearm in a facade of comfort and gratitude.

It should have stopped there. Your plan had been running smoothly right up until this moment when a huge wall comes crashing down in front of it’s path due to a certain Lord.

“She is not loyal, Mother.”

Everyone in the room turned their heads to the raspy voice rarely heard outside the lips of her rotten doll, who seemed more preoccupied with the strings on her tiny dress instead of conversation.

“I beg your pardon, Donna?” Miranda asks with a hint of annoyance in her tone, angry at her youngest freak for ruining the moment with her new experiment.

The phantom woman doesn’t budge for a moment until she gets the strength to turn her head towards you.

“Lady Acheron has not been truthful with you, Mother. Nor to all of us..our great family” Lady Beneviento says in a ghostly manner, making your skin crawl as your nails dig into the arms of your chair. Was it possible she found evidence on you? You were always so careful…there’s no way. Unless she used those evil mind tricks to-…

“Do you take me for a fool, Donna?” Miranda snaps, making both Donna and yourself scoot backwards into your chairs.

“The Acherons have been devoted to our great family for centuries, Child. They have no reason to stab our backs.” Miranda says as she turns to face you, expecting you to confirm her statement as true. If only you didn’t hesitate..

White eyes widen as her claws dig into your cheeks before pushing you away, catching your suspicious reaction and finding it worthy of investigating.

Much to your dismay however, was the way she planned on carrying it out.

You were to live, indefinitely, with the Lord who just upped herself on your hit list.

Chapter two

Two full weeks had passed since and you have yet to have the opportunity to investigate Lady Beneviento. Not only did this set back your plan of getting the dark gift, but now you were being watched like a..well, a crow. You suspect your family has since declared you dead, still believing you received it and not making it. Not like you could exactly tell them seeing as you had no way to contact them or anyone else here.

You did feel like life has ended however as you wandered down the same hallway you just came from. Realizing you were under a hallucination the third time around this never ending maze, your eyes make contact with the same painting on the wall with a sigh. But you were bored, and unfortunately lonely, so you kept walking regardless of the consequences.

Getting used to Lady Beneviento’s powers was a challenge at first. You were trained for this though, and soon was able to think clearly even in a intoxicated state by the third night. But something was different about this one, you could feel it as you walk towards the new doors along your path, a strange melody coming from behind them.

Pressing your ear up to the dark wood you hear someone who had yet to appear in your hallucinations. The one causing them.

You make the mistake of leaning too hard against the door making it creak from its old age, causing dream Donna to gasp and freeze in her tracks as you fall into the room.

“What are you doing in here?! Get out!” The phantom lady hisses at you, pointing at you as if her finger was a knife.

You stumble a little as you regain your composure, feeling a bit of confidence in knowing she wasn’t really there as you take a deep breath.

“I would if I could, but you won’t let me out of my own head. You should be the one to get. out” you snarl through clenched teeth, tilting your head to the side mockingly as you approach her.

She quickly shuffles around the desk, putting a barrier between the two of you. You squint at that, feeling geniune fear coming from her as you stop walking.

A hallucination wouldn’t do that, they know they can’t actually be harmed..

“You’re really here.. aren’t you?” You ask quietly, feeling an unwelcome feeling in your chest.

She hesitates to nod her head, her shoulders dropping in a form of relief. You’re terrified to be alone with the real her because she could interrogate you, prove herself to Miranda that she was right about you.. a traitor. All your hard work would be for nothing.

But the constant isolation in this house has made you grow wary. The need for companionship gnawed it’s jagged teeth into the back of your neck. And besides, you could turn this in your favor as well if you played the cards right..

“Please don’t make me go under again..” You ask in a practiced breathy tremble, giving her your best heartbroken expression.

Her feet shift against the floor as her chest moves off balance, her hand gripping onto the chair with white knuckles before taking a seat in it.

Why are you so nervous, Lady Beneviento? You note in your head, keeping up the facade by sitting in the chair opposite of her. She fidgets with the end of her veil, an uneasy silence falling between the two of you alone in that room.

It at least gave you time to scan said room, noting that it looked like an office and a workshop. You shiver a little upon seeing the various doll and mannequin parts hanging from the ceiling, and instead refocus on your target.

“I’m sorry..” Her gentle rasp disrupts the quiet, making you flinch in your seat.

“I’m not used to..guests” she finishes, speech being broken from little use.

“You mean you’re not used to guests living” you correct her in a wave of spite, immediately regretting your decision when her veiled head tilts.

“I thought it wasn’t an issue per our family’s contract what I do with my guests, Lady Acheron. I see that it strikes a nerve with you, why is that?” she asks darkly, leaning forward across the desk like a cat ready to pounce. It made your stomach churn but you kept calm despite your slip up.

Instead you opt for the more sympathetic approach, letting the tears flood your eyes and lowering your eyes to your lap so they fall.

“I’m just scared..I don’t understand why you’re doing this when I need help. I devote myself to Mother Miranda since birth, and yet you all still despise me. And now I’m stuck here with you knowing that you hate me and I feel so alone..” you ramble on between sobs, feeling too in character when your own words hurt to speak.

You hadn’t registered her hand had slipped on top of yours until you move it to wipe your eyes, making you both gasp and sit back into your chairs.

Why would she..

“I’m sorry…” she mutters, folding her hands into her lap instead.

“I just.. I do not hate you. I am not like my siblings” she whispers, but it’s loud enough for you to hear.

Surely this was just a mind trick, she was known for them after all. Right?

“You do not hate me, yet you lied to Mother Miranda and ruined my chances of being cured” you say plainly, mimicking her by folding your hands into your lap.

“You knew you didn’t have evidence on me, but you did it anyway. Why?” You ask, noticing all her physical tells of nervousness and she thinks of an answer.

Which card would she pull next in this little game?

“You wouldn’t be cured” The phantom woman rasps under her veil, her voice not matching her nervous body language.

“What?” You snap back at her, but she doesn’t flinch and that worries you. She’s being serious…

“You think you know me, don’t you? You think you have the cult all figured out. You plan on eliminating us” she continues, her tone increasing in volume making sweat dampen your palms. If this is how you’ll get answers then so be it.

“…But you don’t know what you’re really up against. You will die the second you try anything and that is not only a promise it is a warning” Donna growls as she leans closer again. You can almost feel her gaze under that dark fabric.

“The cadou is not stable. It’s unreliable and she knows it. You would either die from it, or you would die for it. Once you survive you will be indebted to it. To her.”

The last of her words crack, and you get the feeling she’s talking about her own experience to solidify her warning. You know you shouldn’t trust her, but you want to. You don’t know why, but you crave to.

She could give you everything you needed to know, but there was another desire in you because of it. The latter shattered a great deal of how you felt about the lords and their ties Mother Miranda..

“So what do you suppose I do, hm? Because either way I will die. My illness is only getting worse, Lady Beneviento. You worship the ground Mother Miranda touches just as we all do, yet you benefit the most from it. I’m starting to wonder if you worry your status will lessen if I join the ranks..” you scoff, egging her on to slip up on accident if she was lying.

“I won’t let her hurt another!” She screams as her hands hit the desk, making you jump back deep into your chair at the sudden outburst.

“W-what..” you gasp but she interrupts,

“We were so close.. so close” she groans to herself, putting her hands up to her head as if it pained her.

“What do you mean?” You ask a little more clearly, watching her pace back and forth behind the desk as you heart beats rapidly in your chest.

“We had it all planned out. She has become too powerful.. she could care less about us..” She rants as she paces.

“The night we planned to kill her was thwarted all because of a baby. Instead of going to the chapel for our meeting, she had flew off to welcome the brat into the world. Bless it or whatever myth you humans believe her to do..” she rasps before pointing a finger down at you.

“You were born sick. She knew you were the perfect vessel for her true daughter. We couldn’t interfere with you..she worried we would let it slip” she continues, letting out a small laugh of disbelief once she realizes she did exactly that, and that made you feel ill.

The Lords wanted Miranda dead. They didn’t want you around because they knew what their leader wanted to do to you, and if she succeeded she would be even more dangerous to them. Harder for them to defeat.

“We want her dead, too..” you whisper, feeling exposed the second her head turns towards you again. An unnerving silence falls back between the two of you before the air shifts into something far worse.

Was she really on your side,

Or was it all a mind trick?

***notes**

I’m not sure if I like how I fleshed the characters out just yet, unfortunately without my meds my work tends to be more scattered :( let me know what you think! Is Donna telling the truth? What’s your theories about readers “illness”?

#donna beneviento #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 village #donna beneviento x reader #mother miranda #alcina dimitrescu #angie beneviento #karl heisenberg #resident evil fanfiction

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thesleepyfable · 1 day

Text

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 12: ~

Operation Spy Part 1:

Here we go. The moment we've all been waiting for. The rescue. How will it go? Knowing this lot...

Step 1. Grab the yellow paint and mark the infected containers.

Step 2. Load the infected inside.

Step 3. Get back to the mainland.

Step 4. ...

Well, we'll see what happens afterwards.

Brodie and Roper waited at the Under Rig. They watched the horizon. An outline of a cargo ship came into view. It was a strange feeling. They were all so relieved because this was it - they were going home - but how can you just walk away from this? Easy. You don't.

The pair had to count their lucky stars. They weren't dead like Gregor or turned into something no one thought possible like Rennick. They can still have a normal life. Until then, they just had to go through an investigation, followed by a debriefing and possible firing from Cadal to cover their own arse. It's not like anyone here would care. If Cadal was thinking about sending anyone here to another rig, then they had another thing coming.

'So, what's your plan, Roper?'

'I think I'm going to take myself and the misses on that long needed holiday to Spain. What about you?'

'Take myself and Raffs back to Skye and...'Brodie shrugged. 'I dunno. Rethink my life choices.'

Roper wasn't daft. He was basically the crew's therapist when he wasn't manning Marine Control, and he knew something was bothering Brodie. Which was an oddity in and of itself because nothing bothered him. He was a father figure to most of the younger lads here, especially Raffs. Brodie's known him since he was a child. Roper's eyes lingered towards Brodie's crossed arms. His hands gripped to the sleeves as if he were hanging onto them for dear life. His breathing was laboured, which he'd just pass off as the cold.

'Don't blame yourself,' Roper said. Brodie's shoulders and jaw tensed. 'Raffs is fine. You're fine.'

'I know.' Brodie spoke through gritted teeth. 'But, I shouldn't have let him go down there.'

'He wasn't infected.'

'The lad wasn't ready.'

'Yes, he was, Brods. If none of this happened, he'd be going head first back into that diving bell. Give him time. He'll tell you what he wants.'

Of course, Roper was right, and with a supportive pat on the shoulder, he made his way to the Deck for an update. Brodie continued to watch the cargo ship come into view and took a deep breath to help himself relax.

'He's right.' Raffs' voice broke Brodie out of his spell. The pair had failed to notice that the young man was just around the corner. He approached and leaned against the railing. He seemed happier today. More relaxed. His wide eyes were calm, and his hands weren't shaking. 'I mean - Yeah, I was terrified, but I knew I was safe. Plus, I did hit my head in there. Of course, I'm going to be shak-'

Brodie didn't let Raffs finish his sentence. He just grabbed the young man he saw as his son and held him close. Raffs knew what this was. He's felt this crushing hug before, where Brodie kept him close and refused to let go. The last time he felt it was when Raffs nearly fell down the stairs carrying one side of a dresser. You couldn't fight it either. Any second now...

'I'm sorry.'

There it is.

Raffs returned the hug, though he could never have the strength of Brodie. 'I'm fine,' he said with reassurance whilst he pulled away. 'Just needed to wrap my head around all this.' Brodie's heard that excuse before, but he'll take his word for it. As long as he was okay.

The same couldn't be said for Muir.

Anxiety suddenly gripped him, and the heartbeats he could hear weren't helping. If this was his power from The Shape, then it was frankly shit. The excitement from everyone made him uneasy. There was no warning. The anxiety just came knocking on the door before kicking it down. Muir's mind began to race with ridiculous possibilities. What if the ship sank? What if the police are waiting for Caz to just shoot him? What if The Shape isn't really dead and it'll follow them to the mainland? What if he's taken away and he never gets to see Innes again?

Muir held his breath with a thousand yard stare. No one seemed to notice. Not even Innes, who came into the container with a backpack he left for his partner. All of Muir's eyes turned to him, yet his head stayed seated in the same position.

'Alright. That's all of your stuff.' Like everyone else, Innes was happy. 'Yes. I brought the bloody harmonica before you ask. But don't go playing it until we get ye home.' Muir didn't answer and continued to stare. His mind wouldn't shut up. Everyone's heartbeats drowned out whatever Innes said. It was an echo for him. Everything began to blur. Not because The Shape had suddenly returned, but because he was crying. Muir could finally allow himself to breathe again. Innes looked, and his smile dropped. 'Muir?' He felt a tendril wrap around his hand, and he instinctively began to stroke it with his thumb.

'Please don't go.'

Innes frowned. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

'Stay in here with me.' A pause. 'What if this doesn't work? And what if I'm taken away, never to be seen again?'

'I think that's impossible.'

'Innes, please!' Muir snapped as he began to tighten his grip on Innes and shook his head, because he couldn't run a hand through his hair anymore. 'I don't want to be on my own.'

Innes moved towards him and wiped Muir's tears away. Muir hugged and pulled him closer for him to rest his head on his shoulders. Of course, Innes allowed it and, in return, gave Muir a kiss. 'Alright... Alright, Muir. I'll stay, but we have to be quiet.' Muir nodded before buring his head into Innes.

The pair were so worked up in themselves that they didn't notice Gibbo, Trots, and Roy watching. None of them were surprised. They all suspected something for a while. I'm glad to see they had their confirmation.

Roy often wondered what that felt like. To love someone so near and dear in that way. He's loved friends and family, but nothing you could conclude to be romantic. His only real love outside of that would be football and cooking. He caught on that the three were just staring at this point and gave Gibbo and Trots a small tap.

'Right, you two, get in.'

With their belongings tucked away in the corner, Gibbo, being bigger of the pair, went first and soon settled by using his bag as a pillow. Trots soon followed and didn't exactly know what to do with himself. He had this coat pocket, but it was just awkward for him. Like Rennick, he felt like a rescue horse being led to a stable.

'Hope you don't mind me sharing with you, Gibs.'

'As long as there's no Cadal this or Cadal that.'

'Oh no, this has made it worse,' Roy laughed. 'But hey, if he gets bored, Animal Farm is in his bag.' It wasn't. Trots knew it wasn't. The comment got Gibbo laughing. Trots just smirked before using the tendrils to make himself taller before giving Roy a quick shove on the shoulder with a chuff.

'Off with ya, ya prick.'

'Seya on the other side, lads.'

Of course, the men weren't in complete darkness. Along with the sun coming through at the bottom of the door, Caz and Finlay made some adjustments to the containers, other than paint. A few holes for the natural light. No one thought about possible rain, though.

'Are you really going to use your infection to get a Union?' Gibbo asked out of curiosity.

'Of course,' Trots said. 'How can they say 'no' to this?'

'Ah Christ.' Maybe Gibbo should have taken Rennick as his container-mate. He made his stance known by grabbing Trot's bag and holding it over his head like a pillow trying to block out the noise.

'Right, you two Roasters,' Finlay said in her usual tone that commanded your attention. She was never scared to use it towards Rennick and Addair before, and them being infected didn't change that. The pair awkwardly stood in their own shared container. 'I better not hear a peep out of either of you.'

'I want off this rig, Finlay,' Rennick said in that tone when you're about to get an earful. 'Why the fuck, do you think I'm gonna be loud?!'

'Because you always have to get the last word.'

'Then give me my own container.'

'No. We take you in pairs. Muir's too big for anyone else.' Except Trots, but wanted to be with Gibbo. 'Now keep ye' voices down, or I'll come in there and ring both of ya necks.'

Was Rennick scared of Finaly? No. Was Addair scared of Finlay? Also, no. But, the pair had to admire her attitude, even if they didn't like being spoken to like this. She always carried herself with authority and had bigger balls than most of the men here. Even if she couldn't swim.

'Hey Finlay?' Addair called as she began to close the door. Finlay stopped and listened. 'Why did the military say no to you?'

'Because they don't take women. Is that why they refused you, Addair?'

With that, the door shut, and Finlay could finally feel her blood pressure return to normal. Faint snickering from Rennick could be heard through the metal, followed by a small smack. She spotted Roper and gave a thumbs up, who gave one in return.

Within minutes, the cargo ship docked beside them, and a man stepped off and onto the walkway that connected to the rig. Thankfully, the sea was calm this afternoon. Roper went to greet him.

'Are you Rennick?' He asked.

'No,' Roper said. 'We did a headcount. We lost him.'

'Didn't take a lifeboat?'

'Considering none of them worked, the answer's no.'

The man noticed the exhausted look in Roper's eyes. He was putting it on just so they could leave faster. They then noticed the amount of holes and smashed windows were on Beria. And this was only one part. Their eyes went wide and confused as they scanned the rig before looking to Roper for answers, who exchanged a look that said, 'I know.'

Nothing else needed to be said. The man gave a nod of approval. 'Oh, and we still have some equipment that Cadal will want back.'

'Will they?'

'Do you want to pay for anything we lose?' Seems Caz's sarcasm had finally rubbed off on Roper.

'Fair enough.' He turned and called to his crew. 'Get the crane going!'

And breathe.

Soon, the crew of Beria were safely secured on the cargo. The infected were all sat next to each other, but the equipment sat on top. So much for the holes to give them sunlight. Maybe they could see in the dark?

Caz found himself watching the containers from the safety of Bridge. He couldn't feel their presence from this distance, and it left him on edge. He hoped they were okay. Yes, even Rennick and Addair. He turned and, along with the others, watched the Beria slowly disappear from view.

'Good riddance.'

#Still Wakes the Deep #Still Wakes the Deep: Still Here AU #My Writing

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