#thank you thank you thank you to everyone who cheered me on

[greengoblinswifey]

Solace—Kang Dae-Ho/Player 388 x Fem!Reader

summary— Dae-ho has had a crush on you since day one but it takes him almost losing you for him to gain the courage to confess. Based on this request.

warnings— usual squid game activities, fluff, friends to lovers, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— hope you guys enjoyed my first dae-ho fanfic <3 been extremely busy, i don’t even have time for myself :((

From the very first day, Seong Gi-hun took you under his wing when no one else would. You stuck with his group because of his genuine care for your well being and for—him. Player 388 whom you learned to be Kang Dae-Ho.

During the first game, Red Light, Green light as per Gi-hun’s instructions, you were to keep still and hide behind a player.

From the moment Dae-ho stood beside you in the first game, he was mesmerized and had an inkling to protect you.

Before the music stopped, he ran in front of you, shoving you gently behind him. “Stay behind me! Don’t move.”

Confusion swirled your mind as to why this stranger was helping you, but you did as you were told and as you made it across the line you thanked him. Dae-ho’s breath hitched as you wrapped your arms around him reluctantly and he returned the sentiment, resting his chin on your head.

“You saved my life,” you muttered, pulling away.

“I-it’s no problem, really. It’s the least I could do.”

From that interaction, you couldn’t keep your eyes off each other. You had that effortless charm and aura that pulled Dae-ho in. He wanted nothing more than to be able to have you be his—to have you in his arms but even a marine who had encountered many dangers had overwhelming nerves.

You were magnetic, a radiant presence that drew him in like a moth to a flame. Your beauty, both inside and out, left him breathless, and he often found himself lost in your eyes, captivated by the warmth they held. Despite his shyness, he couldn't help but admire you from afar, his heart racing each time you laughed or smiled.

In your presence, he felt a mix of awe and nervousness, wishing he could express just how enchanting he thought you were. Every moment spent with you felt delicate, where words sometimes escaped him, but his gaze spoke volumes, revealing the depth of his admiration. You were his muse, inspiring a quiet affection that blossomed in the softest of glances and the sweetest of smiles.

So, he opted to show his care through protecting you in any way he could. Outside of that, any interaction you had would be filled with him stuttering and developing rosy cheeks.

He was never really shy around women in the outside world or with the other female players—like Jun-hee who was in the group. It was just you. You had that pull on him no else did.

During the Six Legged Pentathlon, Dae-ho ensured you were included in the group and he cheered you on as you successful won Ddjaki with little effort. Your confidence and ability drew him in even further.

When it was his turn to complete his game, you were right by his side, encouraging him with your kind words.

“You can do it, don’t be nervous,” you smiled softly, “I believe in you.”

Dae-ho went on to successfully complete Gonggi and you immediately pulled him in for a hug, almost toppling everyone over but it made his heart flutter.

Walking back into the dormitory, his eyes were fixated on you, tired but grateful to be alive. You all collected the small portion of food and sat around to eat. As Gi-hun spoke, he completely zoned him out, his focus remained on you.

“Uh, here, t-take this. You need your strength, you did great out there,” he stammered.

“I couldn’t. You need your strength too,” you smiled.

God, your smile. It was one of the the most beautiful things about you.

“I’m a marine, I have all the strength I need.” You chuckled, the sound music to his arms and took his share of food from him.

That night, Dae-ho only had one reoccurring thought in his head and it was you. He wanted to confess, to see if you felt the same way but he didn’t know how.

In the cold bunk, you lay on your side and unbeknownst to Dae-ho, your mind was on him. You were just as infatuated with him as he was with you, but since he never explicitly said anything, you pushed it to the side. He was just being nice. He didn’t have feelings for you and you were delusional to even think so.

He was cute, strong and sweet, there was no way he would go for a girl like you. Especially in the midst of all this chaos, there were more important matters to deal with. At least—that’s what you thought.

The game that followed was Mingle, but as usual, it wasn’t as simple as it looked and came with a deadly twist.

With your heart in your throat, you stepped onto the platform waiting for it to spin and the music to start playing. Dae-ho stood close by, trying to keep an eye on you while also looking out for the rest of the group. It was probably the most hectic game so far.

The spinning had you almost lose your footing and as the platform stopped and a number was called, chaos erupted.

Players grabbed each other, some even bouncing you and running into rooms. Meanwhile you were a chicken without its head, running away from the group when you should’ve been running with them. It was the last number and being so close to death that many times had left you discombobulated.

Dae-ho tried to scan the room for you but it was cut short when he was shoved by the others into a room. His heart beat so fast he thought it would tear out of his chest as he looked through the hole in the door for you.

Meanwhile, just before the countdown ended, you quickly ran into a room that thankfully did not have the maximum amount of players. You looked on as players were eliminated in cold blood, just grateful you were able to survive at the very last second.

Dae-ho’s room was suffocating. He sat huddled in the corner, his knees pulled to his chest, trembling hands clutched tightly together. What gnawed at him the most was you. He didn’t know where you were, if you were safe, if you were still alive.

When the guards herded the players back to the dormitory, Dae-ho didn’t care about anything else. His eyes darted around the room frantically, searching every corner for you. His breath hitched as he scanned every face, his heart dropping when none of them were yours.

And then, there you were.

You stood near the back of the room, brushing dust off your clothes, looking tired but unharmed. Relief hit him like a tidal wave, and before he could stop himself, he was sprinting toward you.

“Y/N!” he called.

You turned, startled, just in time to catch him as he practically collided with you, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

“Dae-ho?” you asked, shocked.

“You’re okay,” he whispered. “You’re okay.”

You smiled softly, though you were still confused. “Yeah, I am. Are you okay?”

He pulled back just enough to cup your cheeks, his hands trembling slightly as he looked at you, scanning your face as though he couldn’t believe you were real. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

“I thought—” His voice faltered. “I thought you might not have made it. I was scared. I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”

Your heart ached at the sight of him, so vulnerable and raw. “Dae-ho, I’m fine,” you assured him, your hands resting on his wrists.

He shook his head, as if trying to gather his courage. “I—I have to say this now. I don’t know if I’ll get another chance. I like you. I’ve liked you since the day I saw you. You’re so beautiful, so smart, and so kind. You make all of this—this nightmare bearable. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I—”

“Dae-ho,” you interrupted, your voice soft as your cheeks warmed.

“I mean it,” he said, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I’ve wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how. And today, when I thought I might lose you, I couldn’t—”

You smiled, cutting off his rambling by leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. For a moment, Dae-ho froze in shock, but then he melted into the kiss, his hands still cupping your cheeks.

When you pulled back, your smile widened at the dazed look on his face. “I feel the same way, Dae-ho,” you admitted.

“You—you do?” he stammered.

“I do,” you said, a small laugh escaping as you watched his face flush.

A loud whistle interrupted the moment, and both of you turned to see Jung-bae standing a few feet away, grinning from ear to ear.

“Finally!” he said, crossing his arms. “I thought I’d have to spell it out for you two.”

You rolled your eyes, and Dae-ho ducked his head, clearly embarrassed but unable to stop smiling.

“Shut up, Jung-bae,” you said playfully, though you couldn’t hide your own grin.

Dae-ho held you close like he never wanted to let go. His arms were firm around your waist, his head buried in your shoulder as he whispered, “I can’t believe you’re in my arms right now.

You reached up, running your fingers gently through his dark hair. “I’m here,” you said softly, leaning into him. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

He pulled back slightly, his hands moving to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. His eyes searched yours, still in awe. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice low and tender. “I’ve dreamed about this—about holding you, about just, having you close. I never thought it would actually happen.”

“I’m glad it did,” you whispered.

He smiled, his lips brushing softly against your forehead, then your temple. The kisses were tender. You closed your eyes, melting into his touch as you snuggled against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

When night came and the dormitory was quiet, everyone else fast asleep, Dae-ho hesitated as he stood by your bunk.

“I should go,” he whispered, though his body betrayed his words, lingering close.

“Stay,” you said softly.

He froze, his eyes meeting yours in the dim light. For a moment, he looked uncertain, but then he nodded, climbing into the narrow space beside you.

You turned to face each other, lying so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. His hand rested on your waist and you reached up to trace your fingers lightly along his jawline.

“Hi,” you said softly, a small smile on your lips.

“Hi,” he echoed, his smile widening.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a tentative kiss. It was soft at first, almost shy, but as his hand slid up to cup the back of your neck, it deepened. His lips moved against yours with a passion that had been building for days.

Without thinking, you shifted, moving to straddle him. His breath hitched as his hands instinctively settled on your hips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your cheeks flushed, and you leaned down, your lips pressing against his again. “You said that already,” you teased softly.

“And I’ll keep saying it,” he replied, his hands gently running up and down your sides. “Because it’s true. You’re incredible. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” you whispered, cupping his face in your hands. “You’re here with me, and that’s all that matters.”

Dae-ho pulled you in for another kiss, this one deeper and more lingering than before. His hands rested on your hips and you instinctively shifted, your body moving on top of him in a way that made his breath hitch.

You froze for a moment, realizing that he was hard, and then let out a soft giggle. “Oh,” you murmured, the corners of your mouth curling upward as you looked at him.

His face flushed immediately, and he stammered, “I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off gently, placing a hand on his chest. His heart was racing beneath your palm. “It’s natural.”

He swallowed hard, clearly embarrassed, but you tilted your head, watching him carefully. “Do you—want me to help with that?” you asked.

His eyes widened slightly, and he stuttered, “I—I mean, only if you want to. I don’t want you to feel like—”

“I want to,” you said softly, cutting through his nervous rambling.

For a moment, he stared at you, his expression a mix of wonder and disbelief. Then he nodded, his voice low as he murmured, “Okay.”

You quietly slipped out of your bottoms, and he did the same. As you positioned your pussy over his raw, hard cock, his hand found your waist. He was already leaking from the tip and you took ahold of his shaft, dragging it along your folds. With a low gasp, you sank down onto his cock, the size of him stretching and filling you.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice trembling with awe. “So perfect.”

You moved slowly, your pussy adjusting to him as your hands pressed against his chest for balance. His grip on your hips tightened, his eyes locked on yours. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he murmured.

“Believe it,” you whispered back, your bounces becoming more fluid as you found a quiet rhythm together.

“You feel so good,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice strained. His hands guided your movements, his fingers digging into your skin. “You’re fucking, incredible, y’know that?”

A soft smile came on your lips, and you leaned forward slightly, your breath mingling with his. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased, earning a breathy laugh from him.

He closed his eyes for a moment, his forehead resting against yours. “Fuck, you’re going to ruin me,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

You giggled softly, brushing your lips against his. “Then we’re even,” you replied.

The two of you moved together quietly, his hips thrusting upwards and meeting your bounces. Every whispered word of praise, every soft touch, made the moment feel almost surreal. He held onto your waist tightly but gently, afraid you would slip away and in awe at how you moved on top of him.

His forehead was pressed against yours, jaw agape as he felt your tight pussy move up and down his shaft. You bit your lip attempting to hold back your moans, he was hitting spots inside you no one else had.

And as you both reached your limit with him throbbing inside you and your pussy quivering, he whispered, “Please, cum with me.”

You nodded, your body trembling as you followed his lead, your hands clutching his shoulders for support. You moaned softly as you felt his load fill you up and your pussy clenched around him as your release washed over you. His arms wrapped tightly around you as he buried his face in your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

When you came down from your high, you both stilled, your breathing heavy but quiet. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his hands still resting on your hips as if reluctant to let go.

“We should get dressed,” you whispered, your voice tinged with amusement and exhaustion.

“Yeah,” he agreed, though he didn’t make a move to pull away just yet. Instead, he looked up at. “Thank you, beautiful,” he said softly.

You smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Anytime,” you replied.

The two of you quickly redressed, your movements careful and quiet. As you settled back into the bunk, he stayed close for a moment, his hand brushing against yours.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered again, his eyes soft and full of warmth.

“So are you,” you replied, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before he returned to his bunk.

Even as you drifted off to sleep, you could still feel the weight of his gaze on you, a silent promise that you weren’t alone.

[izfaish]

i am genuinely speechless (me when perceived)

thank you sm @terra-sketches @iceclew @iizuumi for the tags!! it warms me to see so many familiar names, people i admire and whose creativity and art i yell about AKDFHJGSKBFHG

tagging you all again because i would've done so anyway - your passion, imagination, and no-fucks attitude to posting whatever niche AU or headcanon you have is amazing!

SAME GOES FOR EVERYONE IN THE KN8 FANDOM!! i have to give a special mention to @zrllosyn @zrllosyn-art for the hours of discussion, art trading and mutual brainrot. you made me rediscover my love for ocs and the joy of drawing, no matter the skill level. thank you! and GO SOUP IF YOU HAVENT ALREADY AKFDGHJ

and shoutout to sam @jelliefeesh, ren @/stealthestars, @natakaiju, elsie @/sieling-fan and @can0fwworms for the early days of the kn8 server and continuing to make the fandom a welcoming space!

tagging more cool people. sorry in advance for the big list; if i missed ya, know that there's a good chance i've yelled about your posts before: @ladyazzyscoffeecorner @guardianlioness @blacknovelist @mosshroomish @eizaamkc @fend13th @nightfal1n @bayleavesfromthevine @ajitated @finnay-draws @blobbyx2blobfish @sanjipussyindulgence @bluevelvetea @oxandthorn @rrandomtthings @/bluemoonie (bsky)

cheers as well to my other moots, casual lurkers and anons who follow my messy blog :D

positivity train!

if you see this or are tagged in it, tag a couple of your favorite mutuals/blogs and let them know you appreciate seeing them on your dash!

@h0neysugarfree @blueberrylovv @bequiteanddriveeeeeee @cherri-bomb-bomb @eg0mechan1c @fatrexicisback

[euphoria-looney]

Thank you... for playing with me.

Pt.1

Bake No Hana (Nightcord at 25:00 ft. Kaito)

"It's finally come around, my punishment for having been born. In order to put an end to it, I stop breathing— Ah, I'm fed up with this."

I approached the girl who chose me last round, Penelope. I called her Penny though, and thought the name was cute.

It suits her.

Last round I wasn’t sure exactly what I was going to do, but she pulled me into her group, and even against the male group, we won!

It didn’t help that crunch that echoed across the room each time a team lost though, Astro has been colder than ever and the old guy got separated from me before I could follow him. I think it was fate that we all ended up on the same team.

I’m trying to sound positive because, at this moment in time, I have gone too far to give up now, whether that be hope or, the sick truth, for the money.

My mind is always racing and is looking for the truth that I’m hiding from myself. 

I’ve killed people intentionally or not, just to keep going for a cash prize that I’m not even sure I’ll win.

This isn’t the situation I wanted to be in.

I’ve said that line so many times.

When I was 5 and my mother ran away, that wasn’t the situation I wanted to be in.

When I kept getting neglected and abused in the manor, that wasn’t the situation I wanted to be in.

When I got kicked out at the mere age of 18, That wasn’t the situation I wanted to be in.

Getting into debt and sinking deeper into the amount needed to pay back, I bet you can think of the line I said next.

And now with all the corpses I’ve been near, the money dropping into the pig, the masked soldiers that looked upon you with their weapons, was this really how I was going to be free from debt? Was this the situation I wanted to be in?

“Hey!” Penny turned to look at me.

“Want to pair up?” I tilted my head at her.

“Why should I?”

“I don’t picture you going around here and begging these jerks.” I looked around at our options.

“Wouldn’t that bother you?” I raised an eyebrow to her.

“Bothering me or not isn’t the concern, winning or losing is.” Despite that, she didn’t make any plans to move away from me.

I cheered fondly at her.

“Then play with me, I’ll make sure you’ll win.”

“What will you do?”

“Whatever it takes.”

“... What do you see in me?” 

“Well, I wanted to ask you that.”

“You were someone who looked like they would come with me.”

“I feel the same way.” I raised my hand offering a handshake.

She took my hand, so warm compared to how she acted, and I tightened the grip before releasing her hand.

I’m glad we got the teams out of the way before the timer ended.

—

Third POV

“Alright, there's a five-minute break before the games start, my good sirs. Do whatever you’d like before coming back to meet up and enjoy the show, they’ll be playing marble games.” The frontman announced before everyone dispersed.

“What was that imbecile thinking, joining a game like this? She even had the option to leave and she chose to come back?!” Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes out of agitation.

“They did…” Duke murmured.

“No, they didn’t.” Damian looked at Duke as if he were mad.

“Yes, they did, a while back? You were there and berated them for acting like their mother…” Duke rebutted.

“That must’ve felt so humiliating…”

Dick rubbed his arm.

“... she was probably terrified to face you again, especially with how you treated her…”

Damian piped down after that.

“You’re not any better than us, Duke. You also shunned them away,” Tim said, defending himself and the others.

“I’m not saying I’m better than anyone and this doesn’t excuse what I did but all of you guys made it known through the whole manor that she was just like her mother, so greedy for money that even when she had too much she wanted more, is that what we’re seeing in front of us though?! A girl who's so loaded but still wants more?!” That left Tim speechless and guilty.

“I know what it’s like to be financially unstable, obviously after losing my parents and trying to find them it wasn’t easy, and it didn’t make it any easier with not even a penny in my pocket, so these people “killing themselves for a little money” even though it’s a life or death situation, that’s no different then being “free” out there, especially not in Gotham. So when Bruce rescued me and treated me with kindness and support, I thought that all his kids got this treatment, but now you guys want to berate her and call her an idiot but she was forced into this position…”

He turned to Bruce but was only met with the man looking away.

“Maybe when she left this game, she realized her life wasn’t meant enough and came back to this dehumanizing environment, she didn’t come for us to help her because of the memories of last time, she probably was so nervous always walking on eggshells around us that the moment we rejected her she knew that this was her only option.”

Jason knew it wasn’t targeted specifically at him, but at one point, he knew he had a bond with [name], that innocent kid with those cute bug eyes and that gummy smile. They had something special. Then he died and came back with the news. At that moment, he couldn’t help but feel betrayed by [name]’s mom. With everything that had happened to him,, he had changed his character, so with no one to blame…

Well, you are your mother’s daughter.

Doesn’t the saying go ‘like mother, like daughter?’

Also, the situation didn’t help with him constantly not talking to her, you’d have understood the feeling he got when she came to the manor after being kicked out just to beg for money?

He seriously could not blame the situation on you, did he, or did he forget that he contributed to it too?

The ignoring, the sneering, the insults, how one looks from the person she trusted the most could shatter her heart.

And of course that would be the first conversation she had with you... You didn’t talk to her.

“Well, did you guys hear what she said to that other girl, seems she has no plans-”

A knock interrupted the chat.

“I’m sorry sirs, but the games are starting. May I have your bets?”

“240”

“Wow, all of you, just in case she ever loses, would you guys like to buy her body? I assume you’re family and had an interest in that girl?”

“You!-” Damian was stopped by Bruce, who also had his hands clenched in anger.

“Thank you, that would be appreciated.” Smiled Bruce.

“Of course, and I didn’t mean you lose the bet, it’s just that the odds are against some players and good for others.” The Frontman nodded before heading off.

“Don’t worry, guys. Just hang on. I’m finding the location as fast as I can,” Oracle said through the earpiece before they left for the lounge.

Their nice, comfortable lounge.

—

If I am ready to die, why not know a little bit more about the person I’m spending my last moments with?

“You know~ since the last Joker attack nothing has been this tragic…”

“What game are we playing?” No small talk then… but that’s okay.

“Dang, you’re cold as ice.”

“What game are we playing, girl?”

“You tell me. These games are probably only known to these oldies, tell you what let’s make our own game, ten marbles we could do anything with that.

“So let’s… end this game in a single round.” I looked down at my lap.

“All or nothing. A simple bet.” I looked back at her again with my stupid smile that showed my gums and tilted my head.

It was something I was used to doing a lot as a kid.

I don’t know why I’m acting like this, maybe it’s because my misery will finally end.

That took a dark turn. Let’s get back on track.

“Don’t tell me you’d… rather do what they’re doing?” 

We looked at the old guys behind Penny, throwing their marbles that hit against each other. What was the purpose of the game?

Get the other players' marbles out before they do.

“Okay. Playing what then?” 

I huffed in amusement. 

“What’s with the hurry?” 

“You’re just dying to kill me, huh?” I teased

That was a rhetorical question, we both knew it…

At least I knew it was.

“We’ve got a lot of time on our hands, and we’re playing one round. What’s the rush?”

“What are we gonna do before then?”

“Talk” It had been a while since I’d done that with somebody in this hellhole.

“About what?” 

“Things we never told anybody about I guess.”

“One of us is gonna die, so… it doesn't matter what we tell each other. No one can really embarrass themselves anymore. Okay?”

—

“How long have you been in Gotham? It isn’t a place where one would particularly reside.” We were both sitting at the stairsteps at this point.

I started with a question.

“Just been here since I was born, my mom found the “love of her life” here. She said we’d enjoy it”

“Did you?”

“...” She didn’t reply but rather stayed silent.

“Your family, are they still here with you?”

“My brother.”

“Any parents?”

“My father died getting shot in some back alleyway, at the wrong place, at the wrong time.”

“And your mom?”

“She got high off of drugs when she lost my dad, she overdosed not too long ago and her family took her away from us blaming us for the reason she suffers. I don’t know if she’s still alive and recovering or dead.”

“Where’s your brother now then?”

“In a shelter,” she hesitated. I was asking more than giving, but she still replied, and that was enough for both of us.

“If you win this and get the money, what will you spend it on?”

“Buy a house for me and my brother, then take us somewhere else, Gotham is no place for us, even if the top schools are here, there’s a price to pay for everything.” She was right about that.

I scoffed a little bored of that answer.

“Hey~ with this amount of money you could buy that and so much more- is there anywhere you’d like to travel?”

“Houma.”

“Houma?”

She nodded her head.

“It looked peaceful and had lower crime rates than most places. It didn’t look like Gotham at all.”

I couldn’t help but huff at that.

“Hey. Don’t you think you should dream bigger, huh? Do Keystone City. Hold on– Go to Metropolis instead. They even have lower crime rates than most.

Penny finally turned her head around and looked at me for once out of this entire conversation.

“Metropolis?”

“Yeah, the Superfam lives there. You know the Kryptonite versions of the Batfam in Gotham?”

It seems she didn’t care much about superheroes which made me giggle.

“Really?”

She shook her head.

“Oh no, then we have you fix that, we’ll have a girl’s night out every week in Metropolis and get to meet the Superfam in the flesh, okay?” 

She looked away at that.

“Oh, guess we can’t both leave here?”

…

“Back when my father was alive he was the perfect guy, he was too generous for his good, I was too naive as a kid rushed into the room where he laid to rest before he was covered and saw his gorey body,” Penny told me.

“The first body I saw was this poor kid on the side of the street abandoned just like me, he died inhaling too much of Scarecrow’s gas.”

“Abandoned?”

“Oh! I haven’t told you my backstory, it’s not as tragic as yours, no. My mother married a billionaire and took cash before running away without me when I was five. Everybody blamed her actions on me, making me feel too shameless to ever ask for cash, then I got kicked out at eighteen and took too much debt for regular supplies and school debt then landed here.”

“I wonder if I had money, what would I do… Go to Houma with you?”

A silence ensued between us making me look away.

“Sorry, I forgot again.”

As the timer started running out the sun kept going down even lower. Penny stood up.

“Let’s do this.” I smiled at that.

—

Third POV

By now, some VIPs were disappointed not because they had lost money but because they had lost the guessing game of lives.

Others were happy with the result.

But for our main characters well, can you guess how they’re feeling?

Unnerved, whatever [name] was planning. Are they going to win this game, or will they lose? Would the Wayne family see their dear family die with a bullet to the head?

Bruce never meant to treat you like that, but you’d have to understand your mother betrayed him, and you were there��� and you didn’t do anything.

Oh, what could you have done? 

Alert the whole house of her leaving? Then what?

It was never your fault, you did everything you could to appease them, they just never forgive your mother.

—

We stood up passing a dead body and went to an “empty” land.

“Whoever can roll it farther than the other person wins, okay?”

I let Penny get the head start.

I held my marble in my hand.

Pondering.

I didn’t have much to live for, did I?

I had no friends, no family, and nothing to my name other than the daughter of a gold digger or the bastard child.

What’s the point?

I I guess this game was pointless after all.

I let the marble slide off my hands landing a few inches from my foot.

Straightening my posture I feel Penelope approach me.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” She grabbed me by the collar of the tracksuit.

“You win, I lose.”

“Stop. Why the hell would you try to do that?” She still kept a firm hold on me.

“Butter fingers, what can I say?” I chuckled, scrunching my eyebrows at her.

“Making sure I won. Is that what this is?”

She slammed me into the wall again.

“Did you think I would be grateful? Throw it again.” She demanded.

“And I still wouldn’t be able to win.” I kept my smile on.

“Ugh, don’t be dramatic and let me die in style, hm?” 

This was the reality, and if one of us had something memorable to do once we had gotten out of there, it would be her. Wouldn’t it?

“[name], that’s bullshit! Stop acting cool and just do a real throw!”

I sighed no longer keeping my damn smile on my face.

“I have nothing.”

“What?” Penelope didn’t let go, though. It seemed like she would allow me to talk a bit more.

“You have a reason to get out of this place… I don’t.”

Penelope kept breathing shakily. 

“I thought hard about what I would do, over and over, nothing. It’s like a dead end.” I felt myself tearing up.

I didn’t want to burst out in tears, I hadn’t done that in a while. 

I’ve always hated getting emotional, but it feels like a relief to get it off my chest.

“If anybody has a reason to go back out still there, it’d be you.” I laughed despite tasting the salty tears that leaked from my eyes.

Penelope didn’t seem the type to get emotional either, though that didn’t stop her from letting a couple of tears flow.

“Don’t die here, go out there… and find a place where you and your brother can reside. Far from any crime preferably to Houma.” I chuckled.

…

As Penelope walked away, I didn’t want that to be how our interaction ended, no, not like this pathetic goodbye.

“Penny!” I wasn’t sure she’d respond to that nickname but to my surprise, she stopped.

It made me widen my eyes briefly before going into a somber expression.

I held in my tears at that moment, stabilizing my voice.

“Thank you… for playing with me.” I was glad the guard let me have my closure, you don’t think they’d have the heart with their roles.

BANG

Player 240, eliminated.

—

The blood sprayed out before her body collapsed onto the ground with a sickening thud.

This wasn’t the situation anybody wanted to be in.

— 

That’s it for now. In the next part of this option, the Batfamily will suffer and have flashbacks, as one does. If anyone has any advice on how to write some scenes, that would be spectacular.

I’ll be working on a request and then my So Much More series before getting to Astro! And then maybe the next part of this, so don’t expect it anytime soon. That’s all from me!

Taglist time! ❤

Also, I love the idea and from fic from both @jellyfishmoon97 and @not-weirdoshrek and a new addition that I'm super happy I bumped into @alilobsessive.

@holysoulsweets @sh4rk-k1d @sillysealsies @loomspuddle @cantfindmelol @alwaysholymilkshake @leitor-sonolento @randomlyappearingartist @beyondblissxoxo @sirairi @yhin-gg @frankie-moon3 @welpthisisboring @yokesmam @bat1212 @enchantingarcadecreation @twismare @delias-stuff @ladylupuscrow @ferchu0406 @c4xcocoa @cruzerforce4256 @anonymoushehehehe @godoreo22 @blerp-22 @facelessisnthere @sirenetheblogger @themightybee4067 @boredselkie @tiffyisme3760 @random4137 @midnightgrimoire @mybones537 @chaoticmoontimetravel @jsprien213

I think that's everyone who wanted to be tagged, I hope I didn't spell any wrong and tag the wrong person.

[ruewritesoccasionally]

The Reunion | Aaron Pierre

Pairings: Aaron Pierre x Black Reader

Warnings: none

Series summary: Aaron and YN’s friendship has stood the test of time, but when the chance for something more comes, will they risk everything for a love that feels impossible—or keep circling around the truth of their hearts?

Chapter summary: A night of nostalgia and reconnection at a high school reunion stirs old emotions, leaving two friends questioning the boundaries of their relationship and the possibilities they’ve always left unspoken.

Word Count: 2.5K

a/n: i wanted to try my hand something really cliche and fluffy like a friends to lovers trope - this will be a slow burn (my own fault lol) - writing a series has never been my strong suit so you'll have to bear with me

The smell of something warm and savoury hit YN the moment she stepped through the door of Marcus and Aisha’s townhouse. She could hear the faint murmur of voices and the clink of glasses before the hosts themselves emerged from the kitchen, their faces lighting up in unison.

“Finally! The last piece of the puzzle,” Marcus declared, spreading his arms wide in an exaggerated gesture.

“YN, you look gorgeous, as always,” Aisha chimed in, giving her a quick but warm hug. “Come in, food’s almost ready, and we’re all starving.”

“Let me guess,” YN teased as she slipped off her coat. “Nobody wanted to wait for me, but Marcus said it’d be rude to start without the whole group.”

“She gets me,” Marcus said with a wink, ushering her into the dining area. The room was alive with laughter and chatter, every familiar face instantly making her feel at ease. There was Michelle, always animated, waving her wine glass like a conductor’s baton as she told some wild story. Isaiah, who leaned back in his chair with that quiet grin, nodding along. And Aaron, seated at the end of the table, his presence as steady as ever, offering her a small, knowing smile when their eyes met.

She settled into the open seat beside Aaron, her heart giving the faintest flutter. It wasn’t the kind of flutter that screamed attraction—not outwardly, anyway. It was more like the warm ache of familiarity; the gravitational pull she’d always felt toward him.

“Glad you made it,” Aaron said, his tone easy, like they hadn’t seen each other in a while even though it had only been a week.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she replied, her voice light.

The evening unfolded effortlessly. Plates of food were passed around, stories from their university days resurfaced, and the wine flowed as freely as the laughter. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Marcus raised his glass dramatically.

“Alright, team,” he began. “Before we subject ourselves to the chaos of tonight’s reunion, I propose a toast. To surviving high school, thriving in adulthood—”

“… and for surviving the reunion without resorting to violence,” Michelle cut in, raising her glass higher.

“Exactly,” Marcus said with a grin. “Cheers!”

Glasses clinked, and someone muttered, “We’re gonna need more drinks if we run into Kevin Thompson. That man never learned how to shut up.”

“Amen to that,” Aisha added, and the group erupted into laughter.

By the time the limo arrived, everyone was buzzing—part excitement, part nervous energy. YN had just texted Trey to let him know where to meet them, and now she found herself fussing with the hem of her dress in the mirror by the door.

“You’re good,” Aaron said as he passed by, his tone so casual it almost sounded indifferent. But she caught the faintest softening in his expression, like he’d been paying closer attention than he let on.

“Thanks,” she replied, her smile shy. She adjusted her earrings and turned back to the group, who were gathering coats and handbags in a flurry of last-minute preparations.

“YN, you need to teach Trey our trick for changing the subject when Kevin inevitably tries to corner us,” Isaiah teased as they stepped into the limo, his tone light and teasing.

Aaron, seated across from her in the limo, greeted Trey with a handshake and a brief but polite smile. There was no tension, no lingering looks that might give anything away. Aaron played his part with impeccable grace, though YN knew him well enough to notice the way he carried himself—a quiet, measured restraint that only someone who knew him intimately would pick up on.

The reunion venue was alive with energy, laughter echoing through the halls as old friends reconnected. The music thrummed softly in the background of the high school reunion; a curated playlist of throwbacks meant to stir nostalgia. YN adjusted the strap of her dress and smoothed down the fabric for what felt like the fiftieth time since walking through the doors. Her heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she made her way into the main hall, her date trailing slightly behind her, holding two glasses of champagne. But it wasn’t long before someone approached their group, drink in hand, eyes glinting with curiosity.

“Wow, YN,” they said, their tone light but laced with something else. “I always thought you and Aaron would’ve ended up together by now. Guess a lot’s changed, huh?”

The comment hit like a stone skipping across water, rippling through the group. YN’s smile faltered for just a second, but it was long enough for Aaron to notice. He said nothing, his face a mask of calm as he took a sip of his drink. Trey’s hand rested lightly on her back, a gesture meant to steady her, though she wasn’t sure if he even caught the shift in atmosphere.

“Life’s full of surprises,” Aaron said smoothly, breaking the silence. His voice was even, his smile cordial, and yet there was a weight to his words that lingered even after the moment passed.

As the group moved on, the comment left a faint but undeniable tension in its wake. YN couldn’t shake the unease that settled in her chest, and Aaron noticed the slight change in her posture, the way her laugh felt a little more forced. He stayed quiet at first, letting the others fill the space. He’d always been good at observing, at reading the room. But he said nothing, keeping his thoughts locked away, as he always had.

The night seemed to stretch in an oddly suspended way, time moving both too fast and too slow as the reunion came to a close. Laughter still lingered in the air, the sound of glasses clinking faintly from other groups still enjoying their night. YN stood with her friends just outside the venue, the cool evening air a welcome contrast to the warmth of the party. Her fingers tugged at the straps of her clutch absentmindedly, her mind flitting between Trey’s steady presence beside her and the earlier comment that seemed to have shifted something imperceptible in the air.

One by one, the group made their way to the limo parked at the curb, the energy mellowing into a comfortable buzz. Aaron leaned against the vehicle, his frame effortlessly commanding as he exchanged a few light-hearted remarks with Marcus and Aisha. YN caught herself glancing his way—his smile, the casual ease in his posture. He looked entirely at peace, and yet, something about him tonight had her questioning if that was entirely true.

As they piled into the limo, conversation resumed, though quieter now. Marcus cracked a joke about one of their old classmates that earned a ripple of laughter, but the words barely registered for YN. Trey sat beside her, his arm draped loosely across the back of the seat, while Aaron settled in across from them. The confined space, while luxurious, felt heavy. Every glance, every movement seemed magnified.

YN found herself hyper-aware of Aaron’s presence—of the way his gaze flicked out the window, his fingers tapping absently against his knee. If he noticed the way Trey’s thumb brushed against her shoulder, he didn’t show it. Instead, he remained composed, even offering Trey a polite, “Good meeting you tonight.” Trey nodded in return, the exchange brief but cordial. It was Aaron’s restraint that struck her most—not a flicker of jealousy, not a hint of bitterness. Just that quiet, unreadable strength he carried so well.

The ride stretched on as the limo began its route of dropping everyone home. First was Marcus, who exited with a lingering grin and a playful, “Don’t forget, we survived high school, but some of these people definitely peaked.” Aisha rolled her eyes but laughed as she climbed out next, pausing to hug YN tightly. As she leaned in, her voice dropped to a whisper only YN could hear.

“Call me in the morning, okay? We’ll talk.”

YN tightened her hold just slightly in response, the gesture subtle but enough to convey her agreement. When Aisha finally pulled away, she offered YN a small, knowing smile before disappearing into the night.

Now, it was just the three of them—Aaron, YN, and Trey. The tension in the car shifted again, more noticeable in the absence of their friends. Trey filled the silence with a comment about the night’s playlist, oblivious to the glances YN kept stealing toward Aaron. When they finally reached Trey’s stop, he gave her a soft kiss on the cheek and promised to text her when he got home.

The moment he left the car though, it felt as though the very air changed. YN and Aaron sat in silence as the limo pulled away, the city lights painting fleeting patterns across their faces. She could feel his eyes on her, though she couldn’t bring herself to look his way. Her chest felt tight, her thoughts too loud in the quiet.

“You okay?” His voice broke through, low and steady - his question layered with a deeper meaning, eluding to her happiness.

“Yeah.” She forced a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just tired.”

Aaron nodded, his expression unreadable. “It was a good night.”

“Yeah,” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.

The limo finally came to a stop outside her flat. Aaron moved to open the door for her, his movements deliberate and smooth. She stepped out, the cool night air brushing against her skin. Turning back, she met his gaze, something unspoken passing between them in the quiet.

“Goodnight, Aaron,” she murmured.

“Goodnight, YN.” His voice was softer now, almost tender.

She walked to her door, feeling his eyes on her until she stepped inside. As the door clicked shut behind her, she leaned against it, letting out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. Her flat felt too quiet, too still compared to the night’s events. Kicking off her heels, she made her way to the bathroom, mechanically removing her makeup and letting the cool water centre her.

Yet, as she climbed into bed, her mind refused to settle. The reunion, the comment, the limo ride—it all played on a loop. And Aaron. Always Aaron.

Across town, Aaron sat in the back of the limo, his thoughts similarly restless. His elbow rested against the door; his fingers pressed to his temple as he replayed the night. The smile on YN’s face, the warmth in her laugh—he wanted her to have that happiness, even if it wasn’t with him. But the ache in his chest told him what he’d been trying to ignore for years.

Some truths, no matter how deeply buried, had a way of surfacing. And tonight felt like the beginning of something neither of them could quite name yet.

The morning after the reunion was slow to rise, the early rays of sun filtering through YN’s curtains, casting gentle streaks of light across her bed. She lay still, her duvet tangled around her legs, as fragmented memories of last night played out in her mind like an unfinished film. The laughter, the faces she hadn’t seen in years, the subtle tension that had wrapped itself around her chest like a second skin.

And then, Aaron.

Her eyes fluttered shut again as her thoughts drifted back to the weight of his gaze, the warmth of his laugh. The way he’d greeted Trey with that effortless grace, as though it didn’t cost him a single thing to see her on another man’s arm. But it wasn’t just that moment—it was the echo of words she hadn’t even spoken aloud, the unshakeable ache of wanting something that felt impossible. Her chest stirred with a confusing mix of nerves, regret, longing, and compassion, each emotion vying for space in the quiet of her bedroom.

She sighed, her arm draping across her face as if she could block it all out. This was why she hated reunions. Too much digging up the past, too much pretending things were simpler than they were. Just as she turned over, trying to will herself back into the sanctuary of sleep, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. The name flashing on the screen was a welcome distraction.

Aisha.

“Hey,” YN answered, her voice still heavy with sleep.

“You sound like death,” Aisha teased, the warmth in her tone softening the jab. “Late night?”

“You were there, you know it was,” YN replied, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself.

“True, but I wasn’t the one with a date,” Aisha countered lightly, her words skimming just close enough to the edge of teasing to make YN’s stomach twist.

“Trey’s not... it’s not serious,” YN said quickly, sitting up and pulling her knees to her chest. Her voice was quiet, but even she could hear the uncertainty laced in it.

“Hmm,” was all Aisha said in response, a non-committal hum that spoke volumes. “So... you’ve been thinking about last night, haven’t you?”

YN’s silence was answer enough. She stared at the wall, her mind already wandering back to the moment in the ballroom when someone’s offhand comment had shattered the fragile bubble of normalcy she’d tried to build.

“We always thought you and Aaron would’ve been together by now.”

The words had lingered like smoke, choking the air out of the room. YN hadn’t even looked at Aaron then; she couldn’t. Her heart had clenched too tightly at the thought of what could’ve been, what should’ve been—but wasn’t. Aisha’s voice brought her back to the present.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Aisha asked, her tone softer now, almost tentative.

“No,” YN lied, too quickly, and the weak conviction in her voice betrayed her.

“YN,” Aisha pressed gently, “we’re all rooting for you two, you know that, right? We stopped pushing the agenda a long time ago, hoping you’d find each other in your own time. But... we don’t want it to be too late. We don’t want to see you both settle for less when you could have each other.”

YN swallowed hard, her throat tight with unspoken emotion. “On paper we work, but we’re people, not paper,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. The words felt heavier than she expected, like they carried the weight of years of doubt, fear, and unacknowledged longing.

Aisha was silent for a moment, letting YN’s words settle. “You really believe that?”

YN didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her mind was already drifting again, back to the countless moments over the years that had tethered her and Aaron together. The stolen glances, the inside jokes, the quiet understanding that didn’t need words. The way he could read her moods with a single look, how he’d always known what to say—or what not to say—when she needed it most.

Practically soulmates, she thought bitterly. Always orbiting, never colliding.

“You’re not answering me,” Aisha said, her voice pulling YN back to the present again. “You know, for someone who’s so good with words, you get awfully quiet when it comes to Aaron.”

“I’m just tired,” YN said, though even she didn’t believe it.

“Mhm,” Aisha replied, clearly unconvinced. “Well, get some rest. But we’re talking about this. Properly. Tomorrow.”

There was a pause before Aisha added, “And YN? Just... think about it. Really think about it. What’s scarier: risking the friendship or never knowing what it could’ve been?”

YN tightened her grip on the phone, her heart hammering in her chest. “Goodbye, Aisha.”

“Okay, babe,” Aisha said softly, and the call ended with a quiet click.

YN sat in the silence that followed, Aisha’s words echoing in her mind like a haunting melody. What’s scarier: risking the friendship or never knowing what it could’ve been?

She exhaled shakily, leaning back against the headboard and letting her head fall back. The weight of the question settled over her, heavy and unrelenting. Because deep down, she already knew the answer. She was just too afraid to admit it.

taglist: @writingsbytee @venusincleo @nickidub718

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[elliesglock]

thoughts on tn's game:

-so that's what you call putting belt to ass btw!

-omg our offensive and defensive depth. i literally cheer.

-paige, sarah, and surprisingly kc masterclass. she just pulled that one out idek what i witnessed tn

-but getting kc to be more aggressive offensively is gonna be so huge for us. like she's a shooter and we know this getting her to be more confident and playing like this every night. so much potential

-like can we get azzi more touches? having the ball in ur hands and not passing it to azzi fudd is the work of the devil. not passing as much to azzi also puts a lot of strain on p as well bc obv she's gonna have 2-3 defenders on her when she shoots so maybe not passing it to her only would help a lot?? azzi has many defenders on her as well when she shoots they're both offensive powerhouses but! having both of them on the court at the same time is obviously going to create some mismatches for our opponents defense because obviously you can't contain BOTH azzi and paige.

-anyways what im trying to say is we need to have a better basketball iq, read, and know who to give it to in each possession.

-yall we are so lucky sarah committed to uconn. i thank god everyday. her being so unstoppable just makes our front court as beautiful as it was today

-ALSO JANA STEPPING IT UP? she moved me today ngl. she wasn't playing a whole bunch but im glad to see her getting some confidence and learning how not to foul.

-ice not moving me i fear. but she's not starting so ill hush. i love my girl tho, even when she's on one sometimes

-azzi dropped 30 in my mind so idec. but i think we don't appreciate her abilities on defense enough. she locks people up, picks their pockets, causes turnovers. my most beautiful complete and all around basketball player 💕

-i'm proud of paige. yall know me. im really seeing so many glimpses of her aggressiveness and it's making me so giddy. the best thing about her is that when she's hot offensively one night, it sets the tone for everyone around her. they weren't lying when they said she makes people around her better. also glimpses of hopkins p with those passes. i fell to my knees.

-wanna brag on mo and kk for a second. i love how they're organized on the bench. having them off the bench pretty soon is always gonna be a help for us. mo's ability from each side of the court is so mature and it's so put together for her only being a freshie. she is a little aggressive and can be a foul trouble risk but that's easy to fix. i love the way she's able to facilitate and set easy layups for our bigs. she impresses me every game. MY GIRL KK!!!!!! she's been showing out honey. she knows what her job is coming off the bench. how fast she is and how she gets to rim is so important to us. i'm glad she had to play a lot last year i think it made her so much better. another great facilitator and defensive player. like to see her shoot more three's but she'll get there. but eeeyup i love my team.

-overall, very proud of everyone today. they showed out and showed everyone they can be national champions. and we can if we play this smooth and together, my team will go so far 🙏

[hannieoftheyear]

we're all stardust (x.mh)

During the day, he's the one you're supposed to be against, who you have to be better than. But in the darkness, when the sun sets and there's no one to witness but the moon and the stars, every year you find yourself in his arms.

⋆ ✧˖* pairing: minghao x gn!reader

⋆ ✧˖* w.c: 5,9k

⋆ ✧˖* genre: researchers au, rivalry, angst, smut. MDNI.

🎧: cold love — the8, hai cheng — the8

⋆ ✧˖* warnings: kissing, jealousy, unprotected sex, open ending. not really proofread.

⋆ ✧˖* note: it's my first writing a gender neutral reader, i'd really appreciate if you let me know if there are any mistakes :)

⋆ ✧˖* disclaimer! i know nothing about congresses or research groups, so i tried to make it as vague as possible, but i apologize if it makes very little sense

hope you like this! I'd love to read your thoughts ♥︎

Dew falls softly on the cloudy evening, the surprisingly empty dock at the beach blurred completely by the fog as the sun sets on the horizon. The soft sound of the waves reaching the shore eases the thoughts that have been tormenting you since the morning.

Every year is identical to the one before, and every night, you find yourself in the exact same spot, yearning for the calmness of the place to help you clear your mind.

The morning presentation haunts your every thought, the little mistakes made omnipresent as always, refusing to spare you a moment of peace.

A few steps echo behind you, slow but determined, and even if you choose not to turn around, there’s no denying that’s the same person whose face is burned at the back of your mind, ever present in the memories causing you trouble.

Minghao is a formidable researcher, intelligent as they come, with an enviable special talent for public speaking. A partner that everyone wants on their team and someone who no one wants to be against.

The first time you saw him, all those years ago, your first congress, and his second one, he walked around, leaving everyone starstruck on his way. Not particularly because of his looks, even if they’re an undeniable help, but it was his way with words, capable of convincing anyone listening of the theory of his research.

Smart, handsome, part of an award-winning research group. You were undeniably under his spell too.

But that first impression was short-lived. Days later, when it was your dreaded turn to defend the research you’ve been working on for over a year, that fantasy shattered right in front of your eyes as he, most elegantly, destroyed your hypothesis in a few sentences.

Your peers assured you that it was classical of that particular group, that it had nothing to do with you. They cheered you on all afternoon, even if they pitied you to some degree, and it was okay. You only had one night left at that too fancy hotel for the coveted congress you fought so hard to enter.

That night, at the same spot you're finding yourself at every year, you met him.

As you hugged your legs to your chest, planning a way to knock it out of the park the following year, he sat next to you, calm as he always was.

“You’re good.” He said, with the same truth telling tone he used to contradict your every point earlier that day.

“Thanks.” The crescent moon, up in the sky and beautiful as ever, provided with little moonlight, but it was enough to catch a glimpse of the side of his face, sharp as it was during the day, but with no trace of arrogance.

“I hope I wasn’t so harsh.” A glimmer of a smile appeared on the side of his mouth, timid and friendly, but it disappeared as his eyes caught yours.

“Not at all. You just demolished an entire year's worth of work in ten minutes.” You sounded hurt, like what he did was personal, which you knew it wasn’t, but at that hour of the night, you had no energy left to pretend.

“Sometimes we have to do that. We do what we need to win the funds.” His honesty caught you off guard, and the confession caused your anger to peak for a split second. But that’s what had to be done, and you knew it.

“Good to know I was a close competitor.” You found it in you to joke, and the chuckle he let out was a relief.

“Honestly, it was between yours and mine.” He replied frankly, made it impossible not to believe him.

Not much talking was done that night, the both of you enjoying the quietness after a long day of endless talking.

The following year, you were ready. You thought of every possible rebuttal, prepared every answer, practiced your speech double the times. You weren’t going to let your hard work get trashed in front of your colleagues again. Not by anyone. Not by him.

It was the way for you to prove yourself as a respectable investigator. Winning the research funds for your institute was the most important duty that week. And maybe catching the look in Minghao's face as you answered his every critique confidently.

That first day, when your name got sorted to go first, you knew you had won. Your presentation went as smoothly as it could possibly go, maybe with a stutter or two, but nothing to set your confidence back. And Minghao tried. Him and his team asked question after question, but you were two steps ahead. Regardless, he didn’t look appalled nor defeated. No. He was amused, a knowing smirk appearing as you answered his last question, looking him right in the eyes.

Those eyes hunted you until the sun fell from the sky, and you sat on the dock, admiring the stars that the city hides.

He found you again. Or maybe you went there hoping he'd show up. But there you were, sitting beside each other again, in the cold of the cloudless night, in a comfortable silence that both relieved and scared you.

“Do you usually come sit here?” Your voice sounded louder than expected.

“Mostly when I need a bit of peace. After days like today, for example.” Something in the calmness of his voice made you feel safe. Like that wasn’t the same man threatening the future of your investigation hours before.

“I like that the stars are visible here.” You settled on replying, with a slight fear of annoying Minghao, but deep down, knowing he wouldn’t be there if he minded your presence. “Too much light contamination in the city to appreciate them.”

“Sometimes, I sit here and count them. It’s really good to take your mind off something.” He agreed in his own way.

And that night, you realized you two were much more alike than you thought. He seemed ruthless on the stand, with the complicated vocabulary he used in his speech, and the way he twisted his questions to make it almost impossible to answer without sounding like an idiot, could frighten even the oldest colleague in your team.

But as you spent another night with him, very few words exchanged, giving a whole new meaning to silence, you felt like you were beginning to understand him. The constant murmur that surrounds every minute of the congress and the false smiles that made your mouth ache at the end of the day, it all affected him the same way it affected you. If not, he wouldn’t be seeking a safe place in the night, in the relaxing sounds of the waves crashing on the shore, in the cold breeze sweeping the loose sand on the beach.

That year, your institute won the research funds for the first time in years, and he was the first person to congratulate you.

The first time he kissed you, you had been expecting it all week.

It was a particularly hard year. Every research presented had huge potential, and not even Minghao’s team’s antics managed to cause a big enough commotion.

You and Minghao found yourselves sitting at the dock every night, restless, overthinking, attempting to clear your minds, and accepting that maybe neither of you was going to win that year.

That last night, after the winner was announced, and everyone either went out to celebrate or went to sleep already planning how to be better the following year, you were resting against the unreliable wood railing on the dock, somehow not sad because of the defeat, but rather glad that the week was finally over.

The sun hadn’t set yet, letting you see him as he walked over to your spot, with a light smile on his face.

“You look happy for someone who lost.” After the days you had been through together, your interactions had become friendlier. You allowed yourself to joke more often, and he showed his smile at every one of them.

“You know I don’t care about winning. They deserved it.” He rested his hip against the railing in front of you.

His ability to be relaxed even after losing rose to be the one thing you envied him the most for. Public speaking, it took practice, broad vocabulary, you learn words every day, but rising above what affected you, it was nearly impossible.

“I’m sure you’re already planning what to do next year.” The golden light as the sun began to set gave a softness to the features on his face that you had never noticed until then.

“I don’t know if I’m coming next year.” The disappointment you felt as his words reached your side of the dock couldn’t be described. You’d never admit it was because you longed to see him every year.

“They’d be stupid not to invite you.” You couldn’t even imagine the idea of him missing the year’s event.

“It’s not that.” He played with the hem of his sweater as if for the first time in his life, he was having trouble finding the right words to say. “I’m thinking of taking a few months to rest. I love what I do, but the past years wore me out.”

“You should do it.” You stated as a reply, not even a second later. Not because if he didn’t show up, it meant you had a bigger chance at winning, but because, once again, you understood him.

“Don’t encourage me only so you can win next year.” He stepped off the railing, walking towards you with a growing smirk.

You recognized the sarcasm in his tone but still rushed to continue.

“I beat you once, I can do it again. I don’t need you to be absent to win.” He chuckled, now standing in front of you, leaning into his hand beside yours on the railing. “But I mean it, whatever first draft hypothesis that’s written in your notes can wait, your wellbeing can’t.”

“Aw, you care about my wellbeing.” The few inches that separated your bodies made it impossible for you not to react to his teasing, and the smell of his cologne surrounding you intensified everything.

“I can’t have a lousy opponent.” Your eyes rolled in an attempt to appear like you didn’t care. But he knew better.

“You’ll have to get ready for when I return because I won't be holding back.” He tilted his head slightly to the side, convinced he had you where he wanted. Maybe he did.

“You've been holding back this whole time?” Deep down, you knew what you wanted. But his brain remained a mystery, leaving you expecting his next move.

“I never held back when being against you.” Teasing you with his honesty had become normal for him.

“Believe me, I know.” Competing with him gave you the drive to improve, whether you cared to admit it or not. “Your team’s still going to harass me with terrible questions, though.”

“It’s just one year, love, don’t miss me too much.” He said as he moved his hand closer to your waist.

He trapped you against the railing, both of your weights resting against the creaky wood. And from one moment to another, the piece where you’d been standing against that whole time broke and fell down into the waves below.

You’re sure you screamed, convinced you’d be drenched from head to toe in an instant, but Minghao got a hold of your waist and secured you in his arms.

When you realized what had happened, you were staring into his dark eyes, sun fully set, leaving the moon to guard you, and his face so close to yours that the only breeze you felt was his rushed breath against your skin.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you goodbye?” He asked, his face just barely moving away so he could see your reaction.

He was still holding you, like you could've vanished if he didn’t stay with his arms around you. You refused to stand up straight, relishing in the feel of being surrounded by him. And you didn’t hesitate for a second to nod at his request.

Minghao’s plump lips first touched yours timidly, but as one of your hands sneaked behind his neck and held him there, he took more initiative. He pressed harder against you, mouth moving over yours as his hands began to wander around your back.

Neither of you cared about the temperatures dropping or about the pending question of what this would mean to the both of you. The only thing that mattered in that moment was your bodies tangled together, mouths moving deliberately, high on the other's sighs, and hands keeping your chests flushed.

It's unknown for how long you two stayed there, possibly the longest goodbye ever in the history of man kind.

It was the strong cold wind that separated your poor-clothed and hot bodies. The dreaded farewell was uncertain, feelings and thoughts remaining undisclosed due to the fleetness of your relationship.

The stars on the sky were the only witnesses to the two rivals becoming one, a shared connection no one was aware of. In the dark of the night, the blue moonlight could conceal what didn’t want to be seen and your late nights together that were implicitly forbidden to be shared.

The year he returned, two years after that kiss that never left your mind, it was like he came back with three times the will to win. A research like no other, and a look in his eyes that didn’t hide his newfound drive.

That year, you can say you truly didn’t care about winning, your needs blurred by his presence. Everyone knew who was going to take the funds home, your whole team, his team, and everyone you talked to. It was a given.

Minghao was the talk of the week. The ruthless mastermind was back to prove himself. Smarter, colder, and somehow more handsome, he took the stand as if he had already won, presented the research that he started after his break, and answered every question with a growing smirk.

You went just after him, already defeated, a full circle moment after your first time. And when his eyes landed on you, you expected to receive a serious look, not knowing what happened in the time you hadn’t seen each other. But the millisecond he registered it was you in front of him, the smile you were growing to love showed up on his face.

It was a rushed reunion. So many more people had joined the congress in the two years before, so the organizers were rushing him to return to his seat and pressing you to stand on the stage quickly. You barely had time to greet each other with teeth showing smiles before you got separated.

During that week, he never showed up at the dock, probably being kept hostage by his colleagues to talk to everyone at the dinner parties that you always skipped.

It felt too lonely without him out there, even more so than the year he missed the congress. Knowing he was there, so close, yet so far, was worse than losing. Deep down, you hoped he wanted to be alone with you just as much as you.

But you knew those feelings were wrong to have. What feelings could you possibly have for someone who you saw once a year for a few hours? His life outside of the congress was a mystery to you, just as yours was a mystery to him.

That final day, after a week of non-stop talking to other people, he finally sat down by your side on the damp dock.

You were about to give up. After waiting and waiting, you had come to the conclusion that he simply didn’t want to see you.

But he did. And he came to you.

“I heard your friend won the funds last year.” Were the first words he uttered to you.

“No one came even close.” You forced yourself to look ahead, not wanting to look at him and feel something you shouldn’t.

“I didn’t know if you’d be here.” He said quietly, a ruffling sound coming from his side overpowering the strong wind’s noise.

“I came here every day.” You weren’t mad, but your brain was only capable of coming up with short responses. Those five words meant so much more. You hoped he'd understand them.

“I wanted to too, but they were dragging me to all those dinners.” It was nice hearing that, even if deep down you had already figured out why he wasn’t showing up.

The neurons in your brain weren’t connecting properly, failing to deliver a response to his honest explanation. Were you sure what you wanted to say to him? Was there even something to say?

“How was your break?” You’ve never asked personal questions before that, fearing you might cross the imaginary line you’d drawn.

“Boring.” He chuckled. “I wanted to work, but they basically locked me out of the institute.”

They hadn't fixed the broken railing on the dock, but a new lamppost lit up your spot almost frighteningly well, leaving your bodies out in the open for anyone to see.

“That was nice of them.” You could feel his eyes drilling holes on the side of your face. “You’re too stubborn.”

“You're one to talk.” Your dynamics luckily hadn’t changed, encouraging you to have a little hope.

You chuckled back in response but uttered no witty reply. For the first time in all the years you had known each other, the suffocating silence was uncomfortable.

The moon stared down at you, and you could only stare back, hoping that looking at the peaceful night sky might give you some answers.

“Isn’t it crazy that the moon was made from a part of earth?”

As you both were staring at the stars, avoiding one another, the question left your mouth before you could even stop it.

“Everything we see from here is made of the same elements.” There was a tone underneath his calmness that drove your head to turn to him.

“Yeah, that’s true,” When he connected his eyes with yours, you instinctively looked away, “but the moon was formed after the impact, and it still stayed after.”

By that point, you had no idea what you were saying, just blurting out words in hopes of filling the silence. You needed him to say what you longed for. You needed to know if what you were feeling at that moment, he felt too.

“Can we not do that.” You’ve never heard Minghao being mad before that moment, but as your whole body got covered in goosebumps, you were almost afraid of what he meant by that.

“Do what?” Against your will, you found yourself analyzing his expression.

“Being vague.” He said shortly.

“You’re not being very expressive either.” You sneered back, not angry but definitely bothered. He sighed deeply as you had caught him in his hypocrisy.

He wanted you to be expressive with what you wanted to say, but was he ready to hear how his lips were the only thing you were thinking about? How your will to even go to the congress that year came solely because you were going to see him again?

“Do you remember that night?” He asked quietly, interrupting your rambling mind by voicing out exactly what was troubling you, as if he could read your thoughts. He didn’t have to expatiate on what night he was referring to for you to know.

“The night we both lost?” You answered to torture him a bit, even if you were sure he knew you remembered.

“Yeah,” he said after a few seconds of thought, “I forgot about that, but yeah, that happened too.”

It was an oddly warm night, not even the morning rain or the breeze running across the beach could do something to lower the temperatures. Maybe it was the weather, or maybe it was your body heating up at the mention of that night, or Minghao's body so close to you again, but the red on your cheeks was noticeable from miles away.

“Why do you ask?” His mind was always a wonder. When he uttered his thoughts out to you, it was easy to understand him, but the inner workings of his brain were something out of this world.

“Do you still think about it?” You weren't exactly shocked by the question, but you still lost your breath for a second. “I gotta make sure I'm not the only one.”

The conversation after Minghao’s semi-confession became a blur. Your mouth stopped asking permission from your brain to come out with words, and your skin ached to feel his against you.

Moment after moment, step after step, between breathy kisses and longing touches, you stumbled into your lifeless hotel room, crossed the door with tangled limbs and flying pieces of clothing. Not bothered to turn on the lights, the open window provided with light-blue moonlight to burn the sight of Minghao’s naked body on your memory forever.

You didn’t expect it to happen again the following year. It was fine for you if it only happened once, but as you walked over to his sitting body on your claimed spot, you knew. You both tried to nonchalantly talk as always, but your attention was placed on his lips moving, on his hands supporting the weight of his body, on his overly flirty tone. It was inevitable to end up between his arms again.

The friendly competition continued. Your group would win, then the next year his did. Nothing really changed, except the recurring visits to each other’s bed at night, the late-night conversations now regularly held in between the sheets, his arm under your neck and yours around his naked torso.

Even if in the mornings you’d wake up alone in your bed, or sneak out before the sun rises if you ended up in his, you had an unspoken agreement that it shouldn’t slip into your daily lives. You had to pretend your skin hadn’t been permanently affected by his touch, control your lingering glances, and limit the times you said his name to your colleagues.

As you feel the warmth of his body sitting by your side, you can only think of him on top of you, his lips kissing every inch of skin they can reach as he presses into you. But soon, you remember why you were sitting alone for longer than usual at the dock, and everything turns a slight red shade. 

“Didn’t think you’d come today.” You coldly say, failing to mask your jealousy. 

You know you have no right to feel a claim over him. Why should you? You’ve never talked about your relationship beyond that kiss, and no one else knows about your recurrent encounters. It’s normal for other people to flirt with him, and you shouldn’t get mad if he flirts back. 

“I wouldn’t miss my second favorite time of the day.” Minghao replies like he knows what’s on your mind.  

“What would be the first?” You dare looking to your side and find his eyes on you, a smirk forming on his lips. 

“Seeing your face after I finish my presentations.” You chuckle instantly as he finishes those words, a vague thought that he’s flirting with you quickly getting shut down. 

“I’m sure there are a lot more faces you’d rather look at.” If he hadn’t caught on to your jealousy by now, then you just blurted out exactly what was needed for him to. 

His fingers tumble over yours, electrifying grazes erupting goosebumps from your hands up until the hair growing behind your neck. 

“Didn’t take you as the possessive type.” He teases, and you take the bait. 

It comes to a point where it’s impossible to hide what’s on your mind from him, so being honest is the best way to get what you want. 

“I’m not possessive,” you snap your hand away from his, and you catch his eyes ready to tease again, “and I’m not jealous either. I just… notice what you do and who you do it with.” 

“So, if you’re mad, I’m guessing it’s because you disliked it.” 

“I’m not mad.” You can’t be mad. “I come here to relax, can we not.” 

“You’ve been ignoring me.” In a perfect world, you’d believe his disappointed tone was because of you and not your arrangement. If that’s what’s it called. 

“I've just been doing other things.” Trying to shake him off your head. Trying to see if you could resist his pull. “You're one to talk. You haven’t been coming here.” 

It's weird to talk about your spot like it’s a ritual between you two. Maybe it is. 

“I came every day, just later. You need to be more patient.” 

“What? So, I’m just supposed to wait for you until you decide to show up?” Your calm tone evaporates by the end of the sentence, finishing with more anger than you'd wanted to show. 

“If you wanted to see me alone, then yes.” 

“Wow.” His audacity leaves you speechless, barely a cough of air on your lungs. “You’re mistaken if you think everything I do here revolves around you.” 

“I didn't mean it like that.” His eyes soften as he tries to correct himself. 

“Well, that's how it came out.” A deep breath is all you need to calm down and look him in the eyes. “The most important thing for me here is my work, my investigations, and my team. If your perception of me is any different than that, then you’re not as smart as you think you are.” 

The world around you becomes silent just in time for you to hear his whisper. 

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything.” The needy part of you begs to give in to him. But the rational part screams at you to turn away, that you can’t give into someone who thinks of you that way. “You're the most intelligent person here. Every year.” 

How dumb you are. Dumb enough to fall again. 

You began to stand up some time in your ramble, and his hold on your hand brings you back to earth. You want to run away from him, your feet ready to do so, but his soft eyes and his fingers caressing the back of your hand erode the edges of the decision-making part of your brain. 

“You can't fix everything by touching me.” It’s merely a way to let it go for a while, a temporary band aid that only hides the issue and doesn’t heal it. 

“I’m being selfish.” 

He brings your body to his, so close that his chest heaving makes contact with yours, and his face is all you can see. His hands wrap around your waist just like they’ve done countless times, so naturally that you can’t bring yourself to stop him. 

Time stops as your eyes catch his, a flash of a moment of doubt before you give in and close the short distance between your lips. 

Neither of you ever dare to speak up about the affair that’s been going on for years, the pushing and pulling of competing against one another and then falling into the other's arms. Those feelings only come to light when no one’s to witness, when your lips dance synchronized and your hands roam each other's body with a need that can only be seen by the sea and the stars. 

This late at night, the way to the hotel and up to one of your floors is always empty, like a desert away from the oasis you just left behind. Minghao leads you to his bedroom this time, his hand not letting go of yours during the short walk away from the elevator. 

Whatever you had planned to tell him falls down your priority list as he opens his door and traps you against the nearest wall. His plump lips chase yours, continuing what you were doing at the dock before deciding the spot wasn’t secure enough for what the kiss was becoming. 

Your clothes fall to the ground seamlessly, leaving you bare only for his touch to feel. His fingers graze and tease every part of you he knows will have you ready for him, and you sigh into his mouth at every one of them. 

Getting his clothes off takes more effort from your part, as he refuses to get his hands away from you. His skin that you craved the entire day to touch is finally at your reach, hot against the cold air coming in from his open window. 

Admit it or not, you’ve been ready for him to take you since the day you arrived. So, when your bodies move towards his bed and the soft sheets pillow your back, when he slots between your open legs, looking down at your body with indiscreet hunger, you don’t need preparation for him to slide in. 

Minghao stretches you open slowly, letting you feel everything as he makes his way inside of you. The drive of his hips against yours makes of you a moaning mess, hitting every spot that causes your legs to tremble like it’s his second nature. 

His sensual, deliberate thrusts make your body react in ways only he is capable of. He’s inside you, but you crave more, need more of him. Your hands find their way up to his neck and push him down so his lips meet yours once again, but his grunts and your sounds make it impossible for them to connect for more than a second, leaving you moaning into his mouth as he reaches that point that has you mumbling nonsense, mind blurred by the pleasure. 

He might be babbling something too, his mouth moving over to your ear telling you that much, but you hear none of it. Every one of your senses has stopped doing what they’re supposed to, their job now solely focused on pulling the stars off the sky and into the hotel's bedroom ceiling. 

Minghao's thrusts become less calculated, more erratic, and you close your eyes as your legs wrap around his waist as tight as possible to help him steady and push him further inside. 

The time passed could be something between five minutes and two hours, as when you’re with him you’re somewhere else where time isn’t a thing. But there's one thing you’re sure of. As his hands grope every bit of skin of your chest he wishes to, and your eyes open to find his already analyzing your every feature, the realization that your connection with him is a one in a lifetime occurrence hits you unexpectedly like a crash. 

But you can’t develop on that thought, not when Minghao speeds up, drilling into you as he chases his own orgasm. He pounds hard, determined to get you to cum with him, but you can’t help to think there’s something more to it. Something more in the way his eyes refuse to leave yours, in the way his hands caress the sides of your chest with more care. 

Sometime between his touch, your thoughts, and his thrusts, something inside you snapped, white flooding your eyes and ears as you come around Minghao, tightening around him, making his hips falter. 

You don’t want him to pull out, yearning for him to stay inside you forever if that meant you’d never have to leave his bedroom and pretend you two have no relationship past being competing colleagues. But that foolish wish can never be fulfilled, and your dream remains unspoken as he thrusts for the last time before pulling out of you and painting your stomach white. 

After lazily cleaning up, naked under the white sheets, you become a tangled mess once again, staring at nothing as the breeze coming from the window fills the silence. 

“Do you think we matter?” Your thoughts push you to ask. “As in, what we do in our lifetimes.” 

Minghao takes a few seconds to answer, his hand drawing circles on your side never stopping. “I think we, what we do, and our work all matters for us right now. But in the entire universe, considering the thousands of planets and millions and millions of years of history, we don’t.” 

“Are we really just a speck in time? That would make our lives completely meaningless.” 

If nothing matters, why do you have to hide? Why does your life revolve around things that seem much simpler when taking into account the entire world? 

“I don’t think of it that way.” He disagrees calmly, but not to argue with you. Only on the stand you’re forced to fight for your thoughts, but if there’s no one listening beside you two, and maybe one lonely bird flying past the window, you’ve never felt the need to prove your point to the other. “I think we’re part of something bigger than we can ever imagine.” 

“Are you saying we could be connected to something at the other end of the universe? Even if it’s billions of lights years away?” 

“Of course.” You chuckle at his quick answer, looking up at him from his chest, and he lowers his chin to be able to look at you. 

“Explain it to me.” It seems to be a recurrent thought in his mind, and with your love for his interpretations, and a want to understand his train of thought, you can’t repress the need to hear him talk about it. 

“Think of it this way.” He starts, now brushing your hair away from your face so nothing stands in the way of your connected eyes. “Everything we know came from the explosion that originated the universe, that means that, at one point, every object in space was close to the other, made from the same elements, and only after millions of years they grew apart.” 

“A poet might say that we’re all made of stardust.” You reply in a breathy chuckle, not knowing what to add to such a beautiful explanation.

“They’d be right.”

Silence envelops you once again, the crickets hidden outside making an appearance. There are so many questions hanging in the air waiting to be asked, but you can’t bring yourself to. Minghao’s chest heaves under your ear, calmly reminding you of his presence.

He falls fast asleep under you, never letting go of his grip around your waist. But too much is happening inside your mind to relax and fall asleep with him.

The stars watch you from outside the window, the only witnesses of every part of your relationship with Minghao. There’s a choice to be made. Does it matter? Or is everything meaningless in the long run?

But you can’t afford to think like that. Your life, your work, the work everyone around you does and lives to do, that’s what’s important. And even if he believes in what he said earlier, Minghao knows it, too. That’s why neither of you dare to change your current situation.

You could not get up as the sun rises. You could stay in bed with him. You could let his warmth drift you off to sleep. You could wake up in his arms and tell him every thought that has passed through your mind while he slept soundly. You could ask him about his true feelings regarding your relationship and you. You could do so much more than stay still in bed waiting for a sign in the night sky to guide you.

note: i just wanted to say, for what it's worth, that when i started writing this story, i didn't have an ending planned. So, i as i approached the end, it became so hard to write that i got stuck for weeks. An open somehow ending felt right.

thank you for reading <3 i'd love to hear your thoughts!

[aventurineswife]

Yooooooo self-aware HSR AU!!!

I would LOVE to know what some characters might think of Reader constantly battling the 50/50s (like how the HSR VAs get together and pull on the banners) with a side of the gacha seemingly favoring Bronya. 😅🤣

Off the top of my head, probably the worst one could be when Reader lost more than seven 50/50s in a row. (Based on past experience. 🫠) And not too long ago, they tried to pull for Sunday when his banner was running and when they saw the Harmony symbol—

—well…no points for guessing who showed up in his place. 😅

And then Reader ended up going all the way to max pity.

Reader: “IS THIS KARMA FOR RUNNING HIM OVER WITH THE ASTRAL EXPRESS!??!?!?!??!”

LMAOOO THIS IS GOLD. 😭😭

Okay, so here's how I think it would happen 🤭 (might not be accurate to the characters, plus idk much about pity and stuffs but I tried from the knowledge I got from yt shorts lol)

Bronya, being the gacha queen, might definitely notice how she keeps showing up in your pulls—especially when she’s not the one you’re aiming for. At first, she’d be gracious, “You’ve summoned me again. I can only assume it’s because you trust in my abilities to lead us to victory.”

But after, like, the fifth time, even she starts getting suspicious. “Is this… intentional? Or is this fate…? Regardless, I’ll fulfill my duties, as always.”

(Meanwhile, March is trying so hard not to laugh in the background: “Bronya AGAIN? You’re doomed!”)

Seven losses in a row, though? That’s when Himeko and Welt step in with some serious concern. “Seven? I’d say the odds are against you, but that’s… statistically impossible. Are you sure the stars aren’t just playing with you?”

“Perhaps this is a reflection of the balance you must maintain across dimensions… or you’re simply cursed.” (Thanks for the pep talk, Grandpa...)

Meanwhile, Silver Wolf is like, “You’re fighting against an algorithm. That’s your first mistake.” And then she offers to “fix” it for you (she can’t, but she enjoys messing with your hopes).

The Harmony symbol flashes, your heart soars, and then… Bronya. AGAIN. The absolute audacity.

Reader: “WHY WON’T YOU LET HIM COME HOME!?”

Bronya, oblivious to your suffering, “I will stand by your side, no matter the circumstances. Was this not what you intended?”

Everyone else is just dying. March is clutching her stomach “HAHAHA you were trying to pull for Sunday, and you got Bronya? AGAIN? Oh, I’m gonna cry—this is too good!” (she would definitely take pictures of you suffering.)

Dan Heng would try to be supportive, offering his trademark calm wisdom, “Perhaps it’s better to focus on what you do have. Bronya is an asset in any situation.” But even he can’t fully hide the slight twitch of amusement at your misfortune.

Now the real kicker: when you lose another 50/50 for Sunday and start yelling about karma for running him over with the Astral Express. EVERYONE stops.

Sunday, if he somehow hears this, “...You… WHAT?” (i kinda wanna hc that these characters aren't actually present during the fights/battle scenes.)

The Trailblazer looks at you like you (more like your screen) just committed war crimes.

Meanwhile, March is choking on her drink, “Wait, you RAN OVER HIM? Like, with the ACTUAL EXPRESS? And now he won’t come home? That’s… yeah, that’s fair, actually.”

Even Himeko raises a brow, “Well… actions do have consequences, as they say.”

You’d swear you hear Kafka’s voice somewhere in the distance, smirking, “Seems like fate is toying with you. What a fascinating little game you’ve got going.”

By the time you hit max pity, the entire Astral Express crew has started following your pulling rituals. March has a notepad, “Alright, you’ve hit 79 pity. This next pull is gonna be the one, I feel it—oh… wait. Nope. That’s another Bronya.”

Pom-Pom is pacing nervously in the background, muttering, “At this rate, the economy of our inventory is going to collapse.”

When you FINALLY pull Sunday, the whole group cheers like it’s a world event. Dan Heng, however, just calmly says, “Perhaps you’ve learned not to anger the stars. Or… the train.”

At the end of it all, Bronya might start feeling awkward about always showing up. If you mention your struggles, she’d quietly apologize, “If I’ve interfered with your plans… I am sorry. I only wanted to be of help to you. Perhaps the stars are telling us something we don’t yet understand.” (Translation: she’s just as confused as you are.)

This AU would honestly be too much fun. Every pull would feel like an event for the Astral Express, and I can already imagine March becoming your emotional support bestie through it all. 😭🙏

[mylovesstuffs]

100 Reasons Why I Love Seungcheol ! (a.k.a. S.Coups, Choi Leader, Carat Nation’s Dad)

1. The way he manages 12 chaotic kids (men) like a pro. Where’s his Parent of the Year award?

2. When he yells at them but immediately softens like a marshmallow.

3. His laugh can cure seasonal depression.

4. A visual.

5. His habit of acting like the maknae when he’s the eldest.

6. Petty Seungcheol is peak comedy.

7. When he tries to act cool, but the members clown him anyway.

8. His relationship with aegyo.

9. The way he thinks he’s subtle when being dramatic.

10. His iconic “Say the name!”

11. When he stands in the center like he owns the stage. (Because he does.)

12. His “I’m SEVENTEEN’s leader” energy.

13. That time he pulled off blone hair like a literal Greek god.

14. The way he stares into the camera during performances.

15. How he can make a single word sound like a life-changing declaration.

16. The emotional damage from his tongue plays.

17. His airport looks could rival a runway.

18. His tiny, proud smiles when the members achieve something. You can see the love in his eyes.

19. The fact that he knows exactly how to bias-wreck us.

20. How he’s effortlessly charismatic without even trying.

21. The way he protects the members like they’re his own brothers.

22. When he cried during their Daesang speech—who didn’t cry with him?

23. That time he comforted Jeonghan when he was sick, and our hearts collectively melted.

24. How he takes care of Carats.

25. The soft way he says, “Thank you, Carats.” (Excuse me while I sob.)

26. When he got emotional during their first win.

27. His little “fighting!” moments to cheer everyone up.

28. The way his presence alone calms the chaos in the group (most of the time).

29. The way he values teamwork over individual success.

30. His deep, gravelly voice that feels like a warm hug.

31. Knowing he’s been through tough times but came out stronger.

32. When he cried feeling unworthy of being the leader—Cheol, we’ll fight anyone who made you feel like that.

33. Seeing him push through injuries just to be with SEVENTEEN and Carats.

34. His constant worry about whether he’s doing enough.

35. That one hiatus he took, which made us miss him like crazy but as long as he's okay.

36. Knowing he carries so much responsibility on his shoulders but never complains.

37. How he always thinks of the members’ happiness before his own.

38. His bittersweet smiles during emotional moments—why must you hurt us like this?

39. The way he supports his members during hard times.

40. He cried more over Woozi's hard work than their first win.

41. His leadership is unmatched—period.

42. He’s the glue that keeps SEVENTEEN together.

43. His vocals are criminally underrated.

44. His stage presence is absolute legend behavior.

45. How he hypes up the members like their #1 fan.

46. The way he makes sure every member gets their moment to shine.

47. He’s a friend, brother, and protector.

48. His rap go hard.

49. The way he’s always looking out for the younger members.

50. He gives off main character energy without overshadowing anyone.

51. His pout—it’s a lethal weapon.

52. The way he drinks water like he’s in a CF.

53. When he flips his hair mid-dance. Yes, it’s a reason.

54. His Jigeumbuteo. Iconic.

55. His obsession with Shinchan—same, honestly.

56. The way he claps when he’s laughing too hard.

57. His habit of clinging. Mood.

58. That one episode of Going Seventeen where he was scared giggling and wrapping arms with Shua just because he's scared lol.

59. How he randomly lifts the members like they weigh nothing (especially Hao).

60. When he plays rock-paper-scissors like it’s a serious sport.

61. Seungcheol is the reason I now find men with leadership skills attractive.

62. He’s personally responsible for ruining my bias list every other week.

63. The amount of time I’ve spent analyzing his fancams is embarrassing.

64. His “leader line” moments with RM and Bang Chan.

65. How he’s secretly a softie who loves hugs.

66. He lives rent-free in my brain, and I’m not charging him.

67. The way I feel personally attacked by his selfies.

68. How he can bias-wreck me with a single smirk.

69. The way he hypes up other members on stage like a proud dad.

70. Why does he make me emotional over a simple “fighting!”?

71. He’s a role model.

72. The way he shows that strength can be soft and kind.

73. How he’s grown with SEVENTEEN from boys to men.

74. His love for Carats—it’s so genuine it hurts.

75. He’s proof that hard work pays off.

76. The way he balances being goofy and responsible.

77. His dedication to his craft—it’s inspiring.

78. How he takes pride in SEVENTEEN’s achievements without being boastful.

79. The fact that he’s never forgotten where he came from.

80. Knowing he truly cares about SEVENTEEN’s legacy.

81. His dimples.

82. The way he flips between being a charismatic idol on stage and a complete goofball off stage.

83. When he said, “I’m SEVENTEEN’s dad,” and it’s both funny and true.

84. How he radiates warmth, even through a screen.

85. His goofy side that he shows when he’s comfortable.

86. The way he makes everyone feel like they belong.

87. His deep, thoughtful words during interviews.

88. How he remembers even the smallest details about the members.

89. The way he leads with both his heart and his head.

90. He’s the definition of dependable.

91. He’s a leader who listens, not just commands.

92. His honesty.

93. The way he reminds us that it’s okay to take breaks.

94. He’s proof that vulnerability is strength.

95. How he brings out the best in everyone around him.

96. His endless love for music and performing.

97. The way he’s stayed humble despite SEVENTEEN’s success.

98. Knowing he’ll always have SEVENTEEN and Carats’ backs.

99. He’s family.

100. Because, honestly, there’s no one else like Choi Seungcheol.

[jayybugg]

watched

ghostface!gojo x ghostface!choso x ghostface!geto x reader

summary: there are vicious killing happening in your city and you're closer to it than you think.

warnings: mask kink, creampies, coercion, the boys are serial killers, a tiny bit of knife play, reader is a bit crazy naive, reader is oblivious, virgin!choso, nicknames for the boys, foursome, eiffel tower with gojo and geto, mahito and mei mei mentioned.

word count: 6.2k

note: this is my first jjk fic and I'm super excited for it. i hope you guys like it. hi to any new moots this brings in. :)

pics from pinterest: @/k__a, @/polariae (twitter), @/aransmind (twitter).

part two

You hated being watched. It was the worst feeling in the world like there were eyes on you but no one around to look back at. The feeling didn’t just disappear; it haunted you in each dark corner and every mysterious hallway. Your eyes found their way to the flat-screen TV in the middle of the breakroom.

“Reports of more murders have totaled up in the last week more than it has in the last year. Police are becoming desperate to find out who is behind these stabbings.”

The news anchor’s voice bounced off the thin walls of the cold and dusty room, sending a shiver down your spine. The murders that had been terrorizing the city, even more specifically, your neighborhood weren’t something that anybody could brush off lightly. It sent a dark and gloomy blanket over you and your neighbors. The media had started to refer to the killer as Ghostface, which was even more terrifying than you cared to admit.

All the reports were the same— victims were stalked and toyed with before inevitably being stabbed to death by a person in a mask. The murders were getting so bad that there was a mandated curfew that forced people into their homes, a pathetic strategy to save citizens. “The mayor is urging everyone to not stay out past 10 p.m. and to keep your doors and windows locked.” The anchor’s voice broadcasted.

“Scary, isn’t it?”

Your eyes shot to Suguru Geto, one of your co-workers. His dark hair was tied tightly into his signature bun as he leaned against the table you sat at. His dark eyes surveyed your face, which was undoubtedly covered in worry. “Hey, don’t look so scared. I’m sure the police will apprehend him soon enough.” Suguru said soothingly. His fingers reached up, his knuckles running down your jaw. A means to cheer you up, you assumed. Your angst faded slightly, and you shot Suguru a sweet smile. “Thanks, I was on edge there. It’s just...scary, you know? Someone out there plotting on taking people’s lives.” You sighed, twiddling your thumbs as you looked at the man next to you.

“Yeah, I can see why some people are being extra cautious.” He said, “But hey, at least you work with some tough guys, right? You can call any of us and we’ll be more than happy to come swing by your place.”

Your heart rate calmed a bit at his words. As one of the only girls at your worksite, you had the pleasure of becoming good friends with most of the men there. Suguru, Satoru, Toji, Choso, and Sukuna. They worked in the same division as you and were fiercely protective and loyal to you. It made working here more bearable and fun.

Your smile widened at Suguru’s words. “I guess I am lucky, huh?” You laughed, “Thanks for lighting up the mood, Suguru. I should get back to work now.”

You patted his arm, walking to the door. You paused slightly, turning around to face him again. “Oh, and I never told you or the guys,” You started, “You guys were so right about that guy, Mahito, that I was going to go on a date with. He stood me up.”

Suguru frowned. “I told you, sweetheart. He wasn’t worthy of you.” You only nodded in agreement before turning around again and leaving the breakroom. A news anchor’s voice continued to sound through the breakroom.

“The latest victim of the Ghostface killings was a young man, named Mahito. He was found in the back alley of a restaurant, stabbed numerous times in the chest and torso.”

The frown on Suguru’s face shifts into a small, daydreamy grin. “No one is worthy of you but us, sweetheart.” He mumbled, staring off into your direction.

You remained vigilant, making it home by curfew, locking your doors, and keeping your head on a swivel every day and night. It was the only way to ease your nerves these days. Your friends laughed at you, calling you paranoid. “You’re overreacting.” One of your friends, Mei Mei, voiced, her eyes rolling at you. “This Ghostface probably isn’t as big of a threat as everyone is making it.” She added.

Your hands gripped the wooden table you sat at with her and Satoru. Your frown was deep as your eyes narrowed at your friend for laughing at your precautions. “He’s killed numerous people.” You rebutted, “There’s nothing wrong with just being safe.”

Mei Mei shrugged, picking at her nails as she threw you a bored expression. “I just can’t imagine this guy caring about people like us. He probably has a list of people that he’s after.” She said, “And I guarantee you are not on that list.”

The laugh she let out after that comment made it hard for you to determine if it was supposed to be a dig or a compliment, but knowing this particular friend, it was probably the former. Satoru glanced over at you, taking in your upset face, before rolling his eyes at Mei Mei. “Don’t be a bitch.” He said to her, “There’s nothing wrong with her caring about her safety.”

“And you better tread lightly before that Ghostface dude hears you and makes you his next target.” He said, standing up and stalking away from the two women. Your eyes followed him, a grateful gleam in them as he defended you. Mei Mei frowned, “He’s such an asshole. I don’t know why you’re cool with him.”

You could only roll your eyes at her, changing the topic. You listened to her rant on and on until you both parted ways on your way home. You had urged her to text you when she got home, which she had begrudgingly agreed to do. Making it back to your apartment, you routinely locked your doors and window before stripping yourself to shower.

You were humming to yourself as you lathered your body when a loud creak made you freeze. Your hardwood floors barely creaked that way, only when a large weight pressed against it. Your head slowly peeked out of the shower curtain. Your eyes looked around the bathroom and then through the crack of the door. “What the hell....” You murmured to yourself. You slowly turned off your shower, stepping out. You wrapped your towel around your body, peeking out of the door. “Hello?” You called out.

You checked every corner of your apartment, finding nothing. You took a shaky breath, rubbing her temples. “Maybe I am paranoid.” You muttered to yourself. The silence of your apartment didn’t help with the feeling that someone was watching you. You huffed softly, trudging your way back into the bathroom to resume your shower as the white-haired silhouette in the corner of your closet could only smile at your worried face.

You slugged your way into work three days later, yawning as you pushed open the door to the breakroom. Co-workers were gathered around the TV with looks of pure horror and disbelief. Your head tilted in confusion, “What are you all watching?”

Your boss, Shiu, looked over at you, his expression worried. “When was the last time you talked to Mei Mei?” He asked. Your face contorted from confusion to one of concern. You had forgotten to check on her after you had got home that day. “Um, the last day I worked....so Monday. Why? What happened?” You asked, your eyes searching Shiu’s face for any answers.

Shiu opened his mouth to respond, only to be beaten to the punch by a coworker, “Ghostface killed her!”

Your heart dropped out of your chest, the world around you slowed, and the voices around you seemed to get muffled. Mei Mei was dead? Murdered by the serial killer that plagued all your nightmares?

“Doll?” Choso’s voice rang out in your mind. “Doll!” You snapped back to reality, looking up at him. “C-Choso....t-they killed....” You couldn’t even get the words out as he pulled you to the side. “Hey, calm down. You’re going to cause a panic attack if you don’t.” He said sweetly.

He sat you down in a corner, away from the commotion, sliding you a water bottle. “Take a sip.” He instructed softly. You did as you were told, taking a small sip and deep breath. “She’s dead, Choso.” You repeated softly, “Mei Mei was killed by Ghostface. It’s fucking crazy.”

“Yeah,” He breathed out, “Crazy.” His hand came up to rub your back, “Don’t go getting paranoid on me.” Choso sat with you, whispering comforting things in your ear until he was sure that you had calmed down.

“The police report that the young woman, Mei Mei, actually dialed 911 before being brutally killed by Ghostface, citing that her killer had on black combat boots with spikes on them.”

Choso tucked his feet under the table as you were busy calming down on his shoulder. There was no need for you to see those beat-up spiked combat boots of his.

Your days had passed in a blur, trying to come to terms with the fact that Mei Mei was dead and the crippling paranoia that followed you around. You felt like there were eyes on you at every second of the day. Jumping at every sudden sound, sleeping with your door closed just so the monster wouldn’t catch you.

It was coming to the point that you could barely sleep since every sound and creak startled you back to consciousness any time you started to doze off. Just as you were starting to get closer to sleep, the shrill ring of your phone snapped you back to reality. You reached for your phone, stupidly not checking the caller ID.

“Hello?” You said groggily, rubbing your eyes. There was a long beat of silence that made you frown, “Hello?” You repeated.

Suddenly, a deep and distorted chuckle came from the other end. “Wake up, pretty.” A distorted voice said. You shot up on the bed, a cold shiver running down your spine. “W-Who is this?” You asked.

“Do you like scary movies? What’s your favorite?” The voice asked, completely ignoring your question. You stayed silent, swallowing hard as the voice cleared his throat. “Don’t make me repeat myself, pretty.”

“Scary movies?” You asked timidly. “Why do you want to know? Who is this?”

“Tsk. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to answer a question with a question? You know who I am.” The voice teased, “I’ll call you back soon, pretty. I expect an answer then.”

The line clicked off as you blinked, pulling the phone from your ear. Your eyes landed on your call log, desperate to find the number that had called you.

Unknown.

Your heart sunk to your stomach in fear. Did you just get called by Ghostface? You had to have been because the reports stated that the killer always asked what the victim’s favorite scary movie was. You got out of bed, pacing in her room in anxiousness. Were you next? Oh God, you were next. That would be the only explanation for why someone would call and ask you that. You scrolled through your contacts, pressing Suguru’s quickly. It rang for a few moments before Suguru picked up. “Sweetheart?” He answered.

“Can you come over?” You asked hurriedly, glancing around your room as if someone was already there waiting for you. “Come over?” Suguru repeated, “Sweetheart, it’s 3 in the morning.”

“Please, Suguru. I...I need you. Ghostface called me.”

There was a beat of silence over the phone before you heard a breathy, “I’m on my way.”

Suguru got there in a record amount of time; you swung your door open to see him standing there with a worried expression. “Are you okay?” He asked, peeking into your apartment and looking around. You stepped to the side, letting him inside. “I’m...fine. Just shaken up.” You said.

You paced your living room, Suguru’s eyes following you. “You’re anxious.” He said. A loud scoff fell from your lips as you looked at him. “Of course, I’m fucking anxious. A serial killer is after me and I don’t know what to do.” You said, throwing your arms up in exasperation.

You paused, turning to him. “I should go to the police. Maybe they can track the call or something.” You said, reaching for your keys. Suguru’s hands shot out, grabbing your wrist. “That’s not a good idea, sweetheart.”

“What? Why not?” You asked, “Am I supposed just to let this guy kill me?”

Suguru pulled you closer into a comforting hug, “It’s just...do you really think the police will be able to do anything?” He said, “I mean, they don’t even have any leads now. A measly little phone call isn’t going to help them.”

“But—” Your words were cut off by a soothing ‘sh’ as he continued, “Our police department isn’t going to find him, sweetheart. It’ll be better if I stay here with you. Safety in numbers, right?”

You looked up at Suguru, who gave you a sweet smile back, “Trust me.”

That’s how you ended up with Suguru staying with you after that. A sweet, reassuring smile from your friend eased all your worries. Suguru escorted you to work, the grocery store, your favorite bakery, and back home. It was so peaceful, so quiet that you had forgotten all about the creepy call from that night.  

How utterly foolish of you.

Suguru had gone home one night, leaving you to sleep in your apartment by yourself for the first time in weeks. It was around 11 in the evening when the shrill sound of your ringtone broke the silence of the apartment. You pried your eyes open, grabbing the device, and looking at the caller ID.

Unknown.

Your heart sped up as the sleepiness seemingly disappeared from your body. Your shaky thumb pressed the green button on the touch screen. “Hello?” You whispered.

“Long time no see, pretty.” The distorted voice chuckled into the phone, “Do you have an answer to my question?”

Your throat went dry, words failing to form in your brain. It’s almost like the person on the other end of the line knew that, causing their laughter to get deeper and more hysterical. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of an answer for me, pretty. Tsk, tsk, tsk. What a bad girl, can’t even do a simple task.”  

“What do you want from me?” You asked, clearing your throat to sound braver than you felt. “I want you to answer the damn question.” They said. “What’s your favorite scary movie?”

You took a deep breath, your mind screaming at you not to piss off the psychopath on your phone. “I don’t have one.” You said, “I don’t— I don’t watch scary movies.” There was a small hum on the phone. “What an interesting answer.” Ghostface said, “Well, my favorite movie is this new movie that just came out. It’s called Don’t Move. Have you seen it?”

Your body was shivering, the hairs on your arms were standing up, and your bedroom started to feel eerily smaller the more the voice spoke. “No.” You said, “I haven’t seen it.”

“Oh!” They gasped, “Let me tell you all about it.”

You could feel the smile through the phone, causing your stomach to twist in nausea and disgust. They sounded pleased with the fact that you were terrified, almost like this is what they thrive on. “It’s about this woman, who goes to her son’s memorial and contemplates whether life is worth living after the loss of her son.” Ghostface started, “Then she gets injected by this man with a paralyzing serum and must fight for her life before her body shuts down. Real good movie, I tell ‘ya.”

You could only muster up a sound of acknowledgment. Ghostface laughed, “I want to reenact that movie....with you.” Your eyes widen and a choked breath escapes you before you speak. “You want to what?”

“Oh, don’t be so scared, pretty. It won’t be any fighting for your life, I’ll make you earn that in other ways.” They chuckled, “Open your nightstand for me.”

Your eyes shifted to the nightstand, and you reached over to pull the small knob forward. Inside the nightstand was a single pill and a small bottle of water. You had absolutely no idea how that got inside of your nightstand. The idea that this person had gotten into your apartment to put this here multiplied your fear tenfold. “Now, don’t worry. This is nothing serious, nothing that will paralyze you. I’m not a monster.” Ghostface said, a snort following, “God, I’m hilarious.”

“What is it then?” You asked, “What will it do to me?” You picked the pill up, rolling it between your fingers. “It’ll just put you back to sleep for about another hour or two. Gives me plenty of time to set up for our little reenactment.” Ghostface said casually as if this was the most normal thing ever.

“What if I don’t do it?” You blurted, “What if I just hang up and call the police?”

There was a beat of silence before a burst of laughter that filled your ears. “Oh, pretty, call the police? Do you think the police can help you? They can’t even keep up.” Ghostface laughed, “And if you even move those pretty fingers of yours to hang up on me, I can’t promise that I will continue to be nice to you.”

“And trust me, you don’t want to piss me off.” They added, suddenly serious. A shiver ran down your spine as you swallowed hard. “Now,” The voice returned to its original cheeriness, “Be a good girl and take that pill. Let me hear you. ”

“And trust me, pretty, I will know if you don’t take it,” Ghostface warned. You bite your lip, nervousness coursing through your veins. You slowly place the pill on your tongue, cracking open the small bottle of water. You downed the water, the pill rushing down your throat and into your system. The loud gulp of the water was loud enough for Ghostface to hum approvingly. “Good job, pretty. Now, lay back and let the drug do its job.”

You had no choice but to follow his directions, laying back on the bed. Your hands clutched the phone to your ear. Your eyes get heavy as your head hits the pillow; a soft yawn falls from your mouth. Ghostface chuckled, “See you soon, pretty.”

And with that, the world was dark again.

You don’t know how long you had drifted off into the drug-induced sleep, but your heavy eyelids opened slightly to a black-and-white mask. A sharp gasp filled the air as you jumped back from the elongated ghost mask that leaned over your bed. Ghostface chuckled, tilting his head. “Nice to finally meet you in person, pretty. Happy to see us?”

“H-How did you get in? W-What are you—Wait, us?” Your mind finally registered the two other masked figures in separate corners of your room. One sitting at your desk, legs spread, and a shiny knife resting in his lap. Another one standing next to your closet, one leg prompted up, and twirling his knife around his fingers.

“Ghostface is more than one person?” You asked. Chuckles emitted from each figure at your confusion. “Ghostface is many people.” The one leaning over you said, “But that’s a conversation for next time.”

“Him over there at the desk? Just refer to him as Blood.” He points over to him before moving his finger to the one standing by the closet, “And you can refer to him as Curse.”

“And me? You can call me Strongest.” He said, “Just so it’s easier for you.” He took his knife, waving it around.

“What do you want? Why are you here?” You asked, scooting further up on the bed. Strongest laughed, climbing up the bed to follow you. “What do we want? Well, we want you.” He said, “But remember what I said on the phone? I want to reenact my favorite movie.”

“But none of that fighting for your life nonsense. I have no interest in that, seems boring.” Strongest mused, bringing his knife up to trace your arm. It was light, not enough pressure to draw blood but enough pressure to send a sting through your body. “I think we all just want a ‘thank you’ from you.” He said.

“A thank you?” You asked, “Why would I thank you? You’re serial killers.”

You could feel the pout emitting from under Strongest’s mask. “For you. We’re serial killers for you.” He said, “Have you not noticed all of our hard work?”

The look on your face was filled with confusion, which made Strongest huff and look at his partners. “Can you guys believe this? She really hasn’t noticed. You were right, Curse.” Curse only chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s all a part of her charm.”

Strongest only hummed in agreement, turning his head back to you. “Haven’t you been paying attention to our murders?” He asked, “Remember that super mean professor of yours?”

You blinked, your mind racing through reports from the Ghostface murders. One of the earlier ones was on your campus; you remembered coming to class one day to rumors that he had just up and disappeared. “T-That professor is missing; he’s not....he’s not....” You stuttered.

“Oh, no, pretty, he’s definitely dead.” Strongest teased, “The police are so slow that the numbers that they are telling the public are nearly double that.”

He brought the knife up, letting it trail down the front of your shirt. “Do you think that date just stood you up? No, we were stabbing him to death in the back alley.” Your heart dropped at the newfound information. Your mind started combing through the numerous Ghostface reports, connecting them to your everyday life. They were killing people around you, and you’ve been too foolish to see it.

“Ahh, I see those pretty eyes coming to the realization. Finally.” Strongest said. You took a deep breath, looking into the dark eye sockets of the mask, “Why though? Why would you...?”

“Because you’re ours.” Blood spoke up from the desk, “Only ours.”

Strongest chuckled, climbing further on the bed, caging you against the headboard. “We care about you. We love you, everything we do is for you.” He added, “And we’re tired of living in the shadows, tired of only watching you from afar. We want some reward, some praise.”

Your breathing picked up as your eyes darted around the mask, looking for any sign of change in the stilled expression. “Reward? Praise? H-How?” You let out a shaky breath. Strongest tilted his head; a chuckle fell from his lips as he trailed his knife down your chest again. This time, there was more force in his drag. The fabric ripped inch by inch as he moved it down. “We have a few ideas.” He purred, “And it involves way less clothing.”

“What if I say no?” You whispered, “What if I don’t want to do it?”

“You think you have the choice to say no? You’re outnumbered, pretty.” He whispered back, “And you’re throwing out a lot of ‘what ifs’, makes me think that you want to reward us.” The knife ripped your shirt down the middle, your breasts freeing themselves. You should’ve covered yourself and fought back against him, but you didn’t; you couldn’t.

Strongest seemed to notice that you didn’t fight, a smirk forming on his face under the mask. He sat up, yanking you closer to the foot of the bed, taking a seat next to you. His hand trailing up your stomach, cupping your breasts. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been dying to see these. How many times I’ve fucked my fist imagining that I was cumming on these soft things.”

Rough hands gripped your thighs, pushing your thighs apart to settle in between your legs. You yelp softly, feeling a thumb press down on your clit. “Tsk, no underwear, sweetheart?” Curse teased. His thumb was playing circular motions on your clit. “And no bra either. You’re such a dirty girl, aren’t you?” Strongest added, rolling your left nipple between his thumb and index fingers.

The simulation of both made you squirm, attempting to break free. Curse gripped your thighs, yanking you back as Strongest pinned your arms down, the cold metal of his knife pressing against your neck. “Stay still, pretty.” He whispered, “I would hate to punish you instead.”

You whimpered, nodding. Strongest hummed in approval, going back to rolling your nipples between his fingers but keeping his knife pressed to your neck. Curse’s thumb continued to rub your clit, before switching to his index finger to run up and down your clothed folds. You let out a huffy whine, holding back your squirming but subconsciously bucking your hips into his finger. Curse chuckled, “Want more, sweetheart? All you had to do was ask, I’ll do anything for you.”

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down and throwing them to the side. The cold air of the room brushing against your exposed pussy did nothing but add more stimulation. “Look at you, already wet for us.” Curse mused, his thumb coming back to rub on your clit. “I wish I could taste you, I bet you taste so sweet.” He said.

“Don’t say things like—” Your words were cut short by Strongest’s fingers shoving their way into your mouth. “Don’t talk anymore, pretty. Let us take our reward, okay?” He said, “Now suck on my fingers with that pretty mouth of yours.”

You looked up at Strongest through your lashes, slowly obeying his command and sucking on his fingers. Curse’s fingers slowly slid into you, causing a light, muffled whine to emit from your throat. Two thick digits pumping in and out of you as you sucked on two thick fingers. “She’s clenching around my fingers so nicely.” Curse murmured, “You must be enjoying this, hm?”

You didn’t respond, your legs quivering was more than enough of a response. Strongest’s fingers were soaked with your saliva. He chuckled, pulling them out and patting your cheek. “How about I give you something bigger to suck on, pretty?” He whispered in your ear. Curse pulled his fingers out of you so Strongest could maneuver your body around. Curse picked up his knife, slicing off the rest of your tattered shirt.

“W-What....What are you doing?” You asked, looking up at Strongest as he stood at the foot of the bed, undoing his belt while Curse moved to position himself behind you. Strongest chuckled, “How many times do I have to tell you that we’re getting our reward, pretty?” He teased. “But...we’re also giving Blood over there a little show.”

He gripped your jaw, turning your head to look at Blood. This was the first time you took notice of the quiet figure sitting at your desk since this all had started. His legs were still spread but this time, his cock was firmly in his hand as he moved his fist up and down the shaft.

“Blood is going to join in a moment, but we’re going to...warm you up for him,” Curse added, his voice playful. You wanted to question them more, but your train of thought was derailed once Strongest grabbed the base of his cock, slapping your cheek. “Be a good girl and open up for us, pretty.” He said. A sharp gasp fell out your lips when Curse’s cock slid into you, allowing Strongest to shove his cock into your mouth.

A groan fell from Strongest’s and Curse’s mouths, their eyes closing. “Shiiiittt....” Strongest groaned, his hands gripping the sides of your face to pull you closer. Your nose tickled his abdomen, gagging slightly. “There you go, pretty. You got it....youuu got it.”

“So fucking tight.” Curse groaned, “The deeper she takes you, the harder she clenches around me.”

Curse gave you a sharp thrust, a whine emitting from your throat. Strongest groaned, his head lolling back in pleasure. Strongest’s hand was placed firmly on the back of your head as he drove his hips forward, his cock bullying the back of your throat. Curse’s hand gripped your hips, his pace fast and quick as he slammed into you. The moans that you were desperate to hold back were getting louder and more uncontrollable as time passed.

You had never in your life been so full. You have had sex plenty of times in your life, not with more than one person at a time, and surely, not this roughly. Each thrust, gag, and smack had your mind blanking in the best way.

“This pretty pussy is  just drooling all over my dick, sweetheart.” Curse mused, landing a sharp smack to your ass, “You like getting fucked by strangers?”

Strongest hummed, wiping the saliva that dripped down your chin and smeared it to the base of his cock. “Or maybe it’s the masks? You got a mask kink, pretty?” He asked. He pulled his cock out of your mouth, grinning as you coughed and gasped for air. You let out a soft whine as Curse gave you a final thrust before pulling out. “Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart.” Curse ran his finger down your spine, a shiver hitting your body as he did. “We’re just switching spots. I want to see your pretty eyes too, you know?”

The two masked men switched, Strongest groaning merely at the sight of your ass. His hands ran over the plushness of your ass, giving you a sharp smack. He massaged his hit, chuckling to himself. “This is the best ass I’ve seen before. You’re so perfect, pretty.” Strongest said.

Strongest ran the tip of his cock down your folds, a small whimper falling from your throat. “P-Please...” You whispered. Curse gripped your jaw, forcing you to look up at his mask. “Please what, sweetheart? Come on, we need to hear your words.” He teased.

You gulped hard, your eyes searching the mask. You should’ve been trying to find a way to get out of this. You should’ve been trying to find a way to get help, not letting these psychos have their ways with you. “Please fuck me.” You said softly, “Please.”

Curse and Strongest chuckled with each other. “We’ll work on that soft voice of yours next time, pretty. For now, we’ll stop teasing you.” They both pushed into you at the same time, their hips thrusting into you brutally. Their groans overpowered your muffled moans. Their hands traveled over an inch of your body as if they just couldn’t help themselves from touching you in some way. The two of them had snatched orgasms out of you that you didn’t even think was possible in that short amount of time. Their thrusts were getting sloppier and quicker as they both used you to chase their highs.

“I’m going to cum...fuck, I’m going to cum in this pretty pussy.” Strongest moaned. His hands gripped your hips tighter as Curse let out a breathy chuckle, “And I’m going to cum in this beautiful mouth of yours, sweetheart. God, you’re going to look so fucking pretty swallowing my cum like the slut you are.”

Your legs were weak, shaking from the overstimulation of it all. Your body could only register the feeling of Strongest and Curse using you like their personal toy as they both emptied themselves inside of you. They panted softly as they pulled out of you.

You collapsed to the bed, attempting to catch your breath and regain some kind of sense. Strongest chuckled, slapping your thighs. “Aw, she’s all fucked out.” He laughed. He climbed off the bed, looking at Curse, who was also chuckling at the sight of you.

Blood, who had been relatively quiet during this, cleared his throat. You could feel his eyes burning into your form as you glanced over at him. Cum coated his fingers and his shaft as he continued to run his fist up and down his cock. Strongest tilted his head, crossing his arms. “I take it as you enjoyed the show, huh?” He teased Blood. You sat up, looking at Blood with curious eyes as he stood up and walked towards you.

You let out a soft yelp as he stepped out of his cargo pants, climbing over you and caging you into missionary. “W-What are you doing?” You asked, your hands firmly pressed to his chest as you looked at Blood, then to Curse and Strongest. Curse laughed, kneeling to whisper in your ear.

“We said we were warming you up for Blood, remember?” Curse said, “You see, Blood is a virgin.”

Strongest kneeled on the other side of you, “And he’s been waiting for this moment. The moment to fuck you.” He added. Curse grunted softly. “You both are embarrassing.” He muttered, “Making me sound pathetic.”

Strongest ignored Blood, running his knuckles across your cheek. “Be a good girl and make this a good experience for him, hm? He really deserves it.”

Strongest and Curse stood up, stepping away from the bed as if they were giving you and Blood some type of privacy. You looked up at Blood, and even though his mask covered his face, you could feel him staring at you. “You’re so gorgeous, doll.” He whispered, “Do you know I would do anything for you?”

His tip, leaking pre-cum, rubbed against your clit, snatching a moan from you. “I-I’m sensitive...y-you can’t tease—fuck!” Blood hadn’t let you finish your warning as he pushed into you. He groaned, his face dipping into your neck. “S-So tight...and warm. It’s b-better than I imagined.” He moaned, his hips moving at a steady pace. His hands pushed your legs to wrap around his waist. “You feel so good, doll.” He muttered.

Blood was different than Strongest and Curse. He was soft, attentive, and steady, whereas Strongest and Curse were rough, experienced, and sporadic. You moan as he shifts his hips to hit your g-spot. Your nails dug into his back, and your legs tightened around his waist. Your moans jump up an octave as your eyes screw shut at the pleasure.

“Seems like you found her spot, Blood.” Curse teased, “Keep hitting it if you want to drive her crazy and hear those sweet little moans of her’s.”

Blood slowed down, glancing back at his two partners before looking back at you. “Keep hitting it?” He repeated to himself, “Are you going to make pretty sounds for me if I do?” He asked you.

You opened your mouth to respond, but it was too late as Blood had pushed your legs back into a mating press and began pounding into you. “W-Wait...!” You moaned, your eyes shooting open to look at him. His hips slammed into you at a pace that even put Strongest and Curse to shame. Each thrust made your mind blank, your moans mixing in with his grunts and whimpers.

“Y-You are making those pretty noises w-when I hit it.” Blood said, “You sound so fucking pretty....you look pretty, too.”

You had lost track of time when your orgasm washed over your body and Blood was still pounding into your overstimulated pussy. The sheets under you were drenched from your orgasm causing Strongest to let out a bratty whine. “He made her squirt on her first try. Fucking unfair.”

“Y-You have to s-slow down....o-or I’m going to cum again.” You said to Blood. He only grunted in return, “I can’t.”

“I can’t slow down. You feel so good. It’s like my hips a-are just moving on their own.” He whimpered, “I wanna cum....I wanna cum inside.”

You could only respond in breathy gasps as Blood slammed into you, plugging his seed into you. He stilled, laying on top of you as he caressed your leg almost lovingly. You huffed softly as he pulled out and stood up over you. Strongest and Curse moved to stand at his side, marveling at the sight of Blood’s cum flowing slowly out of you. Curse hummed as he kneeled, using his index to push the fluids back inside of you. “Don’t be wasteful, sweetheart. Keep his cum inside, okay?” He said.

You shuddered slightly but nodded obediently at his command. Strongest leaned over you, tilting his head. “You did so good, pretty. You treated us so well.” He purred, patting your head. He stood straight, glancing at Curse and Blood. “I think she deserves to know who we are, doesn’t she?” He said, a playful tone taking over his voice. The other two nodded, a chuckle coming from Curse.

You watched intently as the three men pulled off their masks. You blinked as your mind registered the three familiar faces of Satoru, Suguru, and Choso. You looked between the three of them as they looked at you. They expected you to scream, maybe even yell at them for everything but instead, you laughed.

You were laughing.

Suguru raised an eyebrow at you. “Sweetheart, why are you laughing?” He crossed his arms. You smiled up at him, sitting up. “Because it’s just you guys. I thought some real psychos had broken in here.” You giggled, “Thank God for that.”

The three men stared at you as if you had grown two extra heads. They shared looks before shrugging. “So...you’re not scared?” Satoru asked.

“Or angry with us?” Choso added. You shook your head, standing up with a smile. “Of course not, silly. You guys are my friends.”

Suguru rubbed his temples with a slight smirk. Either you were completely insane or as naïve as they come. Regardless, you belonged to them.

You belonged to Ghostface.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞'𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥 - 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐄𝐧𝐝

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

Spoilers ahead.

Nobunaga: "Mai, Tell me everything."

Mai: "That's..."

The words caught in my throat before I could say them.

(No, I can't. I just can't say it.)

(If Mitsuhide were to disappear from history, I would be saved, but…)

(If I explain everything, it will only bring suffering to everyone in the Oda army.)

(To save him would mean abandoning me.)

I couldn't put such a cruel choice on the people who feel like family to me.

Nobunaga: "Mai, answer me."

Hideyoshi: "What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"

Mai: "............"

I'd been praying that my voice would reach them every time I opened my mouth, but that wasn't the case now.

(Since I came to live here, I've grown to love everyone in the Oda army.)

(I treasure them deeply, without question, and I know they treasure me too.)

(Which is exactly why I can't bring myself to ask for help, no matter what.)

(I'm the only one who needs to suffer.)

I finally understood the loneliness Mitsuhide must have felt.

Ranmaru: "Lady Mai? You're still here, right? You can still hear us?"

(My voice still reaches them for now, but…)

I clutched the bell in my palm to keep it from making any sound and quietly stood up.

Masamune: "It's fine if you can't reply right away. You can write it down and send it to us later."

Ieyasu: "You should do that. It's more of a hassle if you try to carry it all by yourself."

Mitsunari: "Lady Mai, we're here for you. And of course, Lord Mitsuhide, too."

Hideyoshi: "That's right, Mai. So don't worry about it."

Keiji: "You're cherished, Mai."

(Yeah, I really am.)

I gazed at each of their faces, engraving them into my memory.

I knew that after this, I'd never be able to meet their eyes again.

(Thank you.)

(And...)

(I'm sorry.)

Swallowing the words I couldn't say, I left the hall.

When I got back to my room, I tried a few times before I finally picked up the brush.

(Sending a letter would interfere with people from this time, so this is probably my last chance.)

(While I can still connect with them, I need to make sure they know this.)

Even though I was freaking out, I took my time with each word, trying to keep my handwriting neat as possible.

(If I disappear, Mitsuhide will have no reason to fight against everyone.)

One of the reasons he raised his army was to have himself defeated to save me.

(I need to tell them that I'm gone and that they should stop him.)

I would beg them to welcome him back into the Oda army and not punish him.

And then I wrote my apology and gratitude to everyone in the Oda army.

Hideyoshi, thank you for always being so kind and considerate. I can't even begin to explain how much your kindness has saved me.

Masamune, the way you carry yourself has always inspired me. I'll always pray that your path will be a glorious one.

Ieyasu, thank you for always encouraging me with your stern words. I'll really miss hearing your blunt but caring voice.

Mitsunari, your smile is really like that of an angel. Please continue to light up everyone in Azuchi with that smile.

Ranmaru, being with you was so much fun. You're an important part of my life, and that won't change even if we're apart. We'll always be friends.

Keiji, although we've only known each other for a short time, your cheerfulness gave me so much strength. If I could have stayed in Azuchi longer, I'm sure we would have gotten even closer.

Lord Nobunaga, thank you for welcoming me into the Oda army. Thank you for everything. Please, please, take care of yourself.

Mai: "Phew."

I finished writing and immediately started on the last letter.

(What should I do? I don't have much time.)

(I have so much I want to say, but I can't fit it all in.)

As I thought of that person, tears began to fall, soaking the paper, and my hand, holding the brush, remained still.

The emotions were so overwhelming that I felt like my chest would burst.

(I won't blame you for your choice. Just let me make the same one.)

(I'll take all the divine punishment upon myself.)

I will not drag you into hell with me.

(I'll go alone, so you must survive in this world.)

(That's my final and only remaining hope.)

I managed to move my hand just enough to write a brief letter.

Eventually, night arrived.

Ranmaru: "Lady Mai, are you here!? You haven't responded since earlier. Where are you?"

Ranmaru: "What the hell is this letter!?"

Ranmaru: "..........."

Reading the letter left in the now empty room, Ranmaru froze for a moment before bolting out of the castle.

And just like that, Mai vanished from Azuchi Castle without a trace.

The following morning, the Oda army clashed head-on with the rebel forces.

Mitsuhide: "Do not falter. Forge your path forward! We will take Nobunaga's head!"

Rebel soldiers: "Yeah!"

Samurai, ronin, bandits, townsfolk, and villagers—all soldiers of different backgrounds, with their flags raised, charged forward under Mitsuhide's command.

Meanwhile, Nobunaga, glaring at the approaching large battalion, surveyed the battlefield from the rear of his army and coldly issued his command.

Nobunaga: "Scatter them."

Masamune: "Understood."

Masamune drew his sword and spurred his horse into the fray.

Keiji and Ieyasu quickly followed behind him.

Masamune: "Too soft! Bring them all at once!"

Keiji: "If you're gonna run, now's your chance!"

Ieyasu: "Move! Get out of my way."

The thick wall of enemy soldiers was quickly shattered.

Rebel General 1: "L-Lord Mitsuhide, what should we do?!"

Rebel General 2: "At this rate, it's only a matter of time before the enemy reaches our rear command!"

Rebel General 3: "What's with their strength?! These guys are monsters!"

Mitsuhide: "I don't remember giving you permission to retreat."

Rebel Generals: "!"

Mitsuhide: "Advance. Only forward."

As the sun began to set, the peaceful fields transformed into a hellish scene.

Swords and the bodies of the fallen lay scattered across the field.

Rebel General 1: "Move! We can't hold on any longer! I'm escaping!"

Rebel General 2: "Wait, you're not getting away ahead of me! I'm going too!"

The rebel forces, now scattered, began to flee in confusion.

However, the Oda army's rear guard wasn't about to let them escape.

Mitsunari: "I wouldn't advise turning your back. Don't waste your life."

Hideyoshi: "Don't think any of you are getting away. If you want to keep your head, drop your swords now."

Rebel soldiers: "H-Huh?!"

One by one, the enemy soldiers were overwhelmed by Hideyoshi and Mitsunari's forces.

The main force of the rebel army, which had been holding its ground in the center of the battlefield, was steadily worn down by Masamune, Keiji, and Ieyasu.

Eventually, the unit directly under the command of the generals was left exposed before the Oda army.

Rebel General 3: "I-It's over. I'm retreating!"

Rebel General 2: "You think you can escape alone?!"

Rebel General 1: "P-Please forgive me! I was just manipulated by Mitsuhide Akechi!"

Ieyasu: "I'll listen to your excuses in prison."

Masamune: "You guys are not even worth cutting down."

Keiji: "What a pathetic bunch. How the hell did they even become generals?"

The defeated soldiers bowed in surrender, and after the rebel generals were captured, the battlefield, heavy with the scent of blood, fell into an eerie silence.

Then, the two commanders faced each other.

Mitsuhide & Nobunaga: "..........."

Mitsuhide didn't lower his head. Instead, he raised it and smiled.

Nobunaga: "This reunion came sooner than I expected, Mitsuhide. Though, it seems you didn't anticipate this outcome."

Mitsuhide: "What are you saying? I misjudged the strength of the Oda army. I underestimated your true power."

Nobunaga: "Oh? So even a man like you can get his calculations wrong?"

Mitsuhide: "Yes, I've been overestimating myself for quite some time."

Mitsuhide: "It's a real shame, but it seems my fate has finally come to an end."

Nobunaga: "I see."

Mitsuhide lightly lifted his chin, exposing his throat to the setting sun.

Mitsuhide: "I've long accepted my fate."

Nobunaga: "Is that so?"

With a sharp sound, Nobunaga unsheathed his sword.

The gleaming white blade glinted as its tip pointed directly at Mitsuhide's throat.

Then—

Nobunaga: "Ranmaru, bring it here."

Ranmaru: "Yes."

Mitsuhide: "............"

Without showing even a hint of confusion, Mitsuhide silently observed the events unfolding before him.

Ranmaru approached him, anger blazing in his eyes, and shoved a letter addressed to the Oda army into Mitsuhide's hands.

Ranmaru: "Read it, Lord Mitsuhide. I don't need to tell you whose handwriting it is, yeah?"

Mitsuhide: "............"

Mitsuhide: "............"

Mitsuhide: "............"

Mitsuhide: "Mai. Why?"

As if his soul had left him, Mitsuhide collapsed to his knees.

Standing beside him, Ranmaru trembled and clenched his fist tightly.

Ranmaru: "You're such an idiot! Both you and Lady Mai."

Ranmaru: "How could you shoulder everything alone and plan to disappear like that!?"

Unable to continue speaking, Ranmaru just stood there.

Beside him, Nobunaga quietly sheathed his sword, and the Oda warlords approached.

Masamune: "Throwing away your lives for each other… you two really are alike."

Mitsuhide: "............"

Hideyoshi: "I'll never forgive you. Not for raising your army, but for making Mai cry!"

Ieyasu: "Don't think you can get away with an easy punishment like being cut down."

Mitsunari: "There's work we expect you to carry out, even if it takes a lifetime."

Keiji: "Well, even if we didn't tell you, you'd probably do it on your own."

Nobunaga: "Leave, Mitsuhide. You're expelled from the Oda army permanently."

Mitsuhide: "Lord Nobunaga…"

Nobunaga: "Leave, and do what you must."

Nobunaga: "Even if it takes the rest of your life, find Mai."

Mitsuhide: "............"

Life slowly returned to Mitsuhide's eyes.

Ranmaru: "There's one more letter. It's from Lady Mai."

The letter contained only a single sentence.

Mitsuhide: "............"

Clutching the letter to his chest, Mitsuhide sank further to his knees, his face hidden from everyone.

Masamune: "That girl isn't the kind to throw away her life so easily."

Masamune: "Even if she becomes invisible to everyone, she'll keep on living, as long as her sanity holds."

Keiji: "That sounds like a living hell to me."

Mitsuhide: "No, I won't let it come to that."

Masamune and Keiji: "!?"

Mitsuhide lifted his head, his bloodshot eyes reflecting both endless despair and a glimmer of hope.

Mitsuhide: "If she's going to hell, then I'm going with her."

That night, news quickly spread throughout Japan that Mitsuhide had been killed and his rebel army had fallen apart.

Motonari: "Tch. Your prediction came true. How boring."

Kicho: "Don't complain. If that's how it is, we'll simply move on to the next step."

Motonari: "Hurry it up, then. I'd really prefer not to be bored to death the second time."

Motonari: "So? What happened to the mastermind who hijacked our plans?"

Kicho: "They haven't found Mitsuhide's head."

Motonari: "Being ripped apart in battle and disappearing without a trace? That's such a boring way to end, don't you think?"

Kicho: "There's no need to worry."

Kicho: "He's a man who treats others and even himself as mere pawns, but he wouldn't throw his life away for nothing."

Kicho: "Where he's gone, though, is anyone's guess."

And so, the seasons passed.

Mitsuhide: "The sun's coming out."

Watching the drifting clouds fade into the distance, Mitsuhide, dressed as a traveling performer, reached into his belongings and pulled out a bamboo flask, taking a small sip of water.

He closed his eyes and listened, just as he once did when he traveled with Mai.

Now, he was alone, searching for the sound of the bell that must still be ringing somewhere in this world.

Mitsuhide: "............"

He opened his eyes and smiled bitterly without meaning to.

No matter how many times he looked back or how many years had passed, the memories of the days they spent together never faded.

If anything, they had grown more vivid, deepening the emotions that continued to well up within him.

Mitsuhide: "Mai."

The name he'd said so many times on his journey slipped from his lips again today.

His only clue, the faint sound of a bell, led him on an endless search with no clear end in sight.

Mitsuhide reached into his robe, pulled out a letter, and carefully unfolded it in the sunlight.

He traced the familiar handwriting, achingly nostalgic, as he reread the letter for the umpteenth time.

The letter contained only a single line:

Mitsuhide, you're my light.

Mitsuhide: "You truly were an incredible teacher."

Mitsuhide: "You dragged out every emotion I had locked away just like this."

Mitsuhide: "Thanks to you, even traveling alone has been anything but dull."

The wound of their parting still bled, still brought him searing pain, yet, even that pain had become precious to him.

Mitsuhide: "What am I supposed to do, Mai?"

Mitsuhide: "The joy, the sorrow, the fear—I don't think I can let go of any of it now."

Even now, Mitsuhide clung to the memory of that happiness.

Ring

Mitsuhide: "............"

Mitsuhide looked around and a cool breeze rustled the grass and flowers.

Mitsuhide: "Are you there?"

Ring

The bell chimed softly.

Mitsuhide: "............"

He reached out his arm, grasping at the air.

It was as though he was trying to embrace the entire world—a world where Mai still existed.

Mitsuhide: "Mai."

He'd decided to chase her endlessly.

He'd decided to believe, without a shadow of a doubt, that Mai was alive somewhere in this world—even if he could no longer see her, hear her voice, or touch her.

He chose not to despair. He chose the hope that burned like hellfire.

Mitsuhide: "............"

The sound of the bell quickly faded away along with the wind.

Mitsuhide: "A game of tag, huh? Fine by me."

Mitsuhide: "I'll catch you without fail."

Mitsuhide: "I'll spend my life saving you."

Mitsuhide: "Mai. You are, without a doubt, my light."

And so, Mitsuhide began walking again under the gentle sunlight with a genuine smile on his face.

🦊 Previous Part

[livingformintyoongi]

🪷: Our Jimin and for the AU.... he works at an animal shelter and MC volunteered once- or she was supposed to- but she finds herself there anytime she's free these days

Just Another Good Deed | Park Jimin

Author’s note: Hello, my dearest husband's partner! Thank you so much for making the request, I really loved the idea <3 I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it ^^ (Really my favorite part was the moodboard, I loved it, patted myself on the back and everything). Pairing: Veterinarian!Jimin x Volunteer!Reader Word count: 1.8k Warnings/tags: Little appearance of big brother Yoongi because he is my bias wrecker and if I can get him in, I will :), and that's all, it's all very fluffy. Taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss @yooglefics @tan-veee @angellekookie @madussthoughts Dividers by @saradika-graphics

You glanced one last time at the rearview mirror in Yoongi’s car, adjusting your hair for the fourth time. It was hard to decide which side looked better.

"Yoongi, quick, which looks better? Over my ears or tucked behind them?" you turned to him, arranging your hair both ways so he could carefully consider his options.

“It looks the same to me,” he mumbled in the same monotone voice he used, well, almost every day he spent time with you. “Besides, why does it matter? We’re going to an animal shelter, not a double date.”

You rolled your eyes, finally deciding on leaving your hair over your ears; it framed your face more beautifully, and the soft waves made it stand out even more that way. “I can look nice for the shelter if I want to. I don’t need some hidden agenda, you know?”

Ignoring your comment, Yoongi pulled out his car keys and stepped out. You weren’t surprised to see him coming around to your side of the car to open the door and help you out. Your brother might have been a man of very few words—and expressions—but your mom had raised him to be a true gentleman.

“Alright, come on, let’s move. We’ve got a lot of work to do,” you grabbed his arm and pulled him along, slightly slowing his pace as you approached the entrance. Just a few more steps, and you’d see him again. You had to bite the inside of your lip to stop yourself from smiling too soon.

Yoongi, keeping up with your pace with his usual calm expression, couldn’t help but notice the strange look on your face. He could understand you wanting to dress up to go out—that was fine, everyone liked to look good—but the fact that you’d been smiling the whole way here and that you’d been visiting this shelter every week—or any chance you got—made him think that maybe...

“Oh! Y/N, it’s you,” a cheerful voice said. The man wore a white shirt and black jeans—a terrible choice for working with animals, but that wasn’t his problem, so he ignored it. His dark hair fell gracefully over his forehead, and his plump lips gave him a sweet image that would definitely charm any woman—or man—who crossed his path.

Now everything made sense.

“Jimin, hi!” you quickly let go of Yoongi’s arm, giving the man in front of you the brightest smile you could muster. “It’s so nice to see you here—I mean, obviously you’re here, you work here, but you know, it’s always great running into you,” you said awkwardly, ending with a nervous laugh.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, looking at you like you were the strangest creature in the world. It was the first time he’d seen you so nervous around a guy, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or get mad. What was a big brother supposed to do in these situations? Get jealous?

“Likewise, it’s really great to see you here so often. I’m grateful to have someone like you supporting the shelter,” Jimin said with a soft, charming smile. If you hadn’t been holding onto your brother’s arm, you might have collapsed right there. Were you being dramatic? Absolutely. Were you lying about it? Absolutely not. His simple gaze already made your legs weak, and his smile? Don’t even mention it.

The small gesture of your hands wrapped around Yoongi’s arm immediately caught Jimin’s attention. You’d never mentioned having a boyfriend, and you’d never come to the shelter with someone before. It was only natural to be curious, right? “And… who’s he...?”

“Yoongi,” your brother answered, straightening his back to appear taller and lowering his voice a few tones deeper than usual. “I’m her older brother. And you are?”

“Oh, sorry, how rude of me,” Jimin gave a slight bow before returning to his original stance, not without first running his fingers through his hair, pushing it back. Yoongi swore he heard you squeal. “I’m Park Jimin. I work here.”

“Yoongi, why don’t you go check out the cats?” you laughed nervously, wishing your brother would disappear so you could be alone with Jimin. “I heard Unnie mention she’d really like to have a cat at home.”

“She said that?” Yoongi turned to you so quickly that it startled you; you knew his girlfriend was his soft spot, and you would use it against him as often as necessary if it meant he would drop his overprotective older brother act. Plus, you knew enough about his girlfriend to be sure she’d love to have a cat.

“Yes, she says it all the time,” you nodded quickly, pushing him toward where you knew the cats were. You hoped that would keep him distracted for a few minutes. “Now go, hurry, don’t waste time.”

Both you and Jimin watched as Yoongi walked off, confused, looking for someone he could ask about the cats. Only when he disappeared from your sight did you turn back to Jimin.

“So… how can I help today?” you asked with a smile, feeling your chest flutter as he looked at you with those kind, gentle eyes. You probably needed to calm down if you didn’t want to get caught just yet.

“I didn’t know you had a brother; I thought he was your boyfriend or something,” Jimin said softly, chuckling as he watched the cat in front of them shake itself vigorously to get the water off its fur. It was cute—its coat was light-toned, and its blue eyes were so bright and big that it was impossible not to fall in love with it. This little cat had arrived at the shelter the same day you did; it was skittish, wouldn’t let anyone touch or feed it, and it was crucial to give it a check-up due to a possible infection in its left eye. Jimin had been the only one able to keep it calm and treat it properly so the infection could heal effectively.

Maybe that was the moment when you fell for him. There was something about the sweet and caring way he handled animals that made your heart race and your stomach churn.

“Well, I don’t talk much about my family when we’re together,” you said with a slight smile, preparing the towel to cover the cat and dry it. It was still cold outside, and it wasn’t ideal for the cat to get sick at this time of year.

“I’d like to know more about them,” he murmured softly, gently cleaning the cat’s ears. The cat—who still didn’t have an official name but whom you had called Taemin in your mind from day one—closed its big eyes and started purring, rubbing its head against Jimin’s soft touch. Ah, how much you wished you were a cat. “And more about you in general.”

You turned to look at him, feeling a wave of warmth rise to your face as you realized he had been looking at you all along. Damn Park Jimin, why did he have to be so handsome? You felt like throwing the stupid towel in his face.

“O-oh, really? Why would you want that? I mean, my life’s not that interesting and—”

“But I’m interested,” he said, taking the towel from your hands and letting his fingers brush against yours in a way that definitely wasn’t accidental. His dark eyes stayed locked on yours the entire time, and his damn lips were curved into a smile the whole time.

Calm down, Y/N, you can’t just go around kissing people without their permission—that’s not okay.

“Anything that has to do with you interests me. I thought that was obvious by now,” he said. After an intense staring match—which he obviously won—he wrapped Taemin in the towel and picked him up in his arms, one hand holding the cat’s weight to cradle him like a baby while the other rested on his furry head.

“Well, no, it wasn’t,” you replied awkwardly, trying to fully process whatever he was trying to tell you. Wasn’t it a bit presumptuous to think that meant he wanted something more with you? Had being single finally driven you crazy, making you see things that weren’t there? “Just so there’s no misunderstanding…” You rubbed your hands against your pants and looked at him expectantly. “Does that mean that…?”

Jimin let out a laugh before looking at you with his eyes turning into crescents from his smile. “It means I’d love to finally get your number.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Y-yes! Sure, g-give me your phone, and I’ll write it down right now,” you said, extending your hands toward him, trying to stop them from trembling so much and revealing how nervous you were. Too bad your body never obeyed your brain.

“Here,” he murmured, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and handing it to you. His constant gaze on you made you even more nervous. You had to rewrite your number more than four times because you kept making mistakes. Both of you smiled when you called your number from his phone, and your ringtone sounded almost instantly.

Oh, shit. You had his number now.

“Y/N, let’s go!” Yoongi’s voice called from a few meters away. You were genuinely surprised to see that he actually had a small carrier in his hands, from which you could see two tiny green eyes staring at you from the darkness inside.

Its gaze looked a lot like Yoongi’s.

“Well, I guess you have to go,” Jimin said, adjusting Taemin in his arms as he watched Yoongi waiting for you near the exit. Truthfully, he didn’t want you to leave yet, but he understood he wasn’t in a position to ask you to stay, especially since you had come with your brother.

“Yeah, it seems like it,” you murmured, glancing briefly at your brother before putting all your attention back on Jimin. He had indirectly said he liked you, at least a little, right? And you had known each other for quite some time now… Well, you only live once, and you didn’t like living with regrets. You stepped closer to him and gave him a light kiss on the cheek—quite close to his lips—before stepping back and waving softly to say goodbye.

Then, you ran toward your brother as fast as you could, internally hoping he wouldn’t mention anything about it.

Ah, if only you had taken the time to notice Jimin’s face, you would have seen the bright pink covering his cheeks and the embarrassed smile spreading across his face like it was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

At least Yoongi had the luck to witness it, and he would definitely tease you endlessly about it.

Masterlist

[the-golden-comet]

✨🌺 Author Ask Tag 🌺✨

Thank you so much for tagging me for this, @aalinaaaaaa ! I will also leave this +open for anyone else who wishes to answer (if they want) and may come across this on their feed 💛✨

I’ve espoused lots of juicy information from my two published works Peter Hart and Your Wish Is My Command, so now it’s time to focus a little more on my current WIP: In The Realm of Giants 🌺✨

1. What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

Excellent question! There are a few lessons in ITROG that are highlighted throughout the book:

The lengths family will go to protect each other. A huge theme is family bonds, and how the love and support of the village reflects the Viking’s desire to protect their people.

Taking risks to develop characters and learn lessons. Some of those risks are learned the hard way…for instance, getting abducted by a giant because Tyr foolishly believed if he could get away with stealing once, he would smugly and spitefully do it again. However, if not for the risks and consequences of taking said risks, he would have never explored the area outside of his home and experience the adventure. Equally so, his father wouldn’t have been able to see his son shine on his own without feeling the need to always guard him.

Forgiveness. Not only for Stefan and Tyr or Tyr and Gustav, but also Stefan and Gustav. Learning to forgive mistakes of their ancestors, to see everyone’s different perspectives on the same conflicts, and to achieve mutual understandings.

All of these lessons are very comparable to everyone in one way or another, applied to a more high-fantasy scene to give a sense of excitement and relatability 💛✨

2. What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

Norse Mythology, especially centered around Jötunheimr and Yggdrasil. I also sprinkled in some Disney-esque family values and dynamics. ✨

3. What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness or help the reader grow as a person?

Tyrell’s objective changes throughout the novel. A consistent goal is for him to achieve independence in a way that still serves his viking clan—the people he loves. However, his goals take a sharp turn when he finds himself kidnapped by a giant, where his main objective becomes to survive and make it back home in one piece.

What I always want to achieve in my MCs is that there is no “flawless” character—everyone has their strengths and weaknesses, and seeing their vulnerabilities helps make them a more relatable protagonist. Sometimes, it’s the flaw that makes a character unique and stand out, memorable, endearing, or something that a reader roots for the protag to overcome. The more those strengths and weaknesses are explored and utilized in a plot or conflict, the more developed a character is, and overcoming their own weaknesses is something that anyone can relate and cheer for.

4. How many chapters is your story going to have?

At least 69, as is my brand. The word count is estimated anywhere between 120k-155k words.

5. Is it fan fiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original Work! I posted a variety of fanfiction and Originals, and post the full stories to my Archive Of Our Own account always. I do optional/additional support by providing a digital copy on Amazon Kindle eBooks, but that is only if people want to support me further (I don’t have KoFi or Patreon, as my writing pace varies. It finishes when it finishes 💛)

6. When did you start writing?

I started writing fanfiction in 2009 back on old fanfiction.net. Original writing started in 2014 with the development of Peter Hart.

7. Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

It sounds cheesy, but it’s true: Follow your dreams. Write the book that YOU would want to read, and be your biggest writing fan. I go back to my own books all the time, and because I enjoyed writing them and took the time to develop them, it was just as enjoyable reading-reading them from a casual point of view, and not a technical one. Get your heart out there, because there’s only one of you—one unique brain with wonderful ideas waiting to be actualized. Learning by doing, and remembering what inspired and motivated us to write in the first place—don’t lose that sense of wonder 💫✨

I follow SO many writeblrs. I’m excited to see what the community all is doing, and everyone has their own unique flavor of writing that is creative, fascinating, and inspiring. To name just a few: @wyked-ao3 , @gioiaalbanoart , @jev-urisk , @tragedycoded , @clever-pennname , @illarian-rambling , @autism-purgatory , @deanwax , @mk-writes-stuff , @words-after-midnight , @justabigoldnerd , @pippinoftheshire , @avaseofpeonies , @alinacapellabooks , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @drchenquill , @theink-stainedfolk , @the-inkwell-variable , @indecentpause , @glasshouses-and-stones , @addicted2coke-theothercoke , @asassydork , @aalinaaaaaa , @zackprincebooks , @lychhiker-writes , @yourpenpaldee , @oliolioxenfreewrites , @nczaversnick , @mrbexwrites , @peach-the-gospel , @finickyfelix , @aurumni-writes , @paeliae-occasionally , @agirlandherquill , @fantasy-things-and-such , @castiels-favorite-dumbass , @honeybewrites , @thatuselesshuman , @thecoolerlucky , @authorcoledipalo , @48lexr , and @thecomfywriter . There are many, MANY more that you should go check out and follow! Lots of beautiful minds in creative spaces 💫✨

[fluentmoviequoter]

Tim Through the Years - The Proposal

Series Masterlist (part 10)

Summary: Tim finds the perfect way to propose. 0.9k+ words

Tim has been trying to wrack his brain on how to propose. He found the ring because of Angela and now he doesn’t know how to ask the woman he loves to marry him. Because of the incident when he got the ring, everyone has an opinion on how he should propose, and it’s giving him quite the headache. Lucy has been talking non-stop since she found out and expressed all of the ideas she had. So here he is, hiding in the interrogation room, trying to think of the perfect way to ask. Tim’s phone starts to ring and he answers without looking to see who is calling.

“What?” Tim asks gruffly.

“Hey baby, is this a bad time?” 

Tim freezes; it was you calling him and not Lucy as he thought. “No, not at all, what can I do for you?”

“We’ve been having issues at school of someone stealing other people’s lunches. Today they stole my whole lunch instead of a couple of things. Everything is just gone; would it be possible to bring me some lunch? I really don’t want to eat cafeteria food.” 

“Of course baby, I’ll grab some food from your favorite place”, Tim replies softly. He can tell you’ve been having a rough day just by the sound of your voice.

“Thank you so much! I really appreciate it, I love you! See you soon.” 

“I love you too.”

When your phone call ends, he sees he has a few texts he missed from you earlier. They were pictures of different drawings your students did and they all centered around you and him together. Tim knows that you love your students and they mean the world to you. You always boast about how much your students grow and how proud you are of them. That’s when Tim has the best idea ever.

You slump in your seat after your phone call with Tim. The kids were in the gym before they were going to head to lunch. There has been a lunch thief in the break room and even if you leave your lunch in your classroom, some of it gets stolen. You’ve never had your whole lunch stolen - matter of fact, no one has, so it looks like the thief has stepped up their game. You have your suspicions of who stole your lunch: your coworker Dennis has been causing all sorts of problems. He cheated on his wife with a student's mom, and now he blames his ex-wife for why his kids don’t want to see him. A rumor you were told was that he was a massive alcoholic who took out all his stress on his family, and he had a gambling problem. You want to make a super spicy meal for him to eat so he will stop eating your lunches since Tim puts a ton of effort into making sure you eat a balanced meal every day.

You check the time and see that it is time to pick up your class before lunch so they can grab anything they need. When you walk into your classroom with your students, you see Tim sitting at your desk with your lunch. The class all squeals and runs up to Tim, asking him all sorts of questions. Your class loves it when Tim visits and thinks he’s a superhero. 

“Hey guys, I’m just here to have lunch with your favorite teacher.” Tim has a smile on his face while he talks to your students.

That’s when your class turns to you and declares they want to use their marbles to have lunch with the both of you. You use marbles as a reward system to encourage good behavior, and they can choose what they want within reason.

“How about instead of me taking your marbles, I’ll give you a free pass because you have been so well-behaved today.”

The class cheers and goes to get their lunch stuff, so you send a classroom aide to go with some students who need a hot lunch. Tim hands you your stuff and when the aide returns with your students, you tell her you are going to run to the bathroom and be right back. When you return to your classroom, all your students are suspiciously quiet. Lunch goes smoothly, with you and Tim talking about your guys' day and the students talking amongst their friends and asking questions here and there. Once lunch ends, the students say goodbye to Tim and you kiss Tim on the cheek before telling him you’ll see him at dinner tonight.

It is getting close to the end of the day when the fire alarm goes off, which is weird because there was no drill planned for today. You calmly walk your students outside and do a head count of your students. After a few minutes, police and fire arrive, and all the kids talk about how cool they thought the trucks were. That’s when you heard your name called from one of the police vehicles' microphones.

“Y/N Winchester.”

Everyone grows quiet, and all turn to stare at you. Your students run toward the vehicle, and you run behind them to try and stop them. You freeze because your students are standing behind Tim, who is on one knee.

“Will you marry me?” all your students shout together with massive smiles on their faces.

“Yes!”

[leonastarry]

{ 9 } Yours. ✧. ┊    idol!jinwoo x fem!reader.

You have admired Jinwoo for a long time.

The two of you were high school friends, in the same class, and deskmates. You have always paid attention to him. His dream is to stand on stage, you know. In fact, all of your classmates know that through a future orientation sharing session, and everyone in the class knows that he has a great singing voice.

But you know for sure that no one believes in him more than you (at least except for his family). You are a silent fan, you have followed him since he was a nobody in the music industry until he shined brightly on stage.

You feel very proud.

It seemed like your relationship would only stop at being classmates, but it seems that fate did not allow it.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Jinwoo has a concert at the end of March. And of course, as his longtime loyal fan, you have to come too.

Jinwoo stands on stage, the lights shining directly on him, creating a brilliant aura around him. The sparkling outfit is exquisitely designed, with every detail reflecting the light, making him look like he stepped out of a dream. His hair is carefully tended, slightly messy in a natural style, highlighting his artistic charm.

His eyes are bright, full of passion and confidence. The smile that flashes across his lips is enough to make the audience's hearts flutter. When he sings, the sound echoes throughout the space, strong yet gentle, touching every emotion deep in your heart.

Around him, the stage lights change with each melody, sometimes bright like fireworks, sometimes dim like a rain of light. The orchestra behind him blended perfectly with his voice, creating a space filled with lively music.

When the song ended, the applause and cheers were loud, as if wanting to prolong that moment. He bowed, sweat beading on his forehead but his smile was still bright. He stood there, like a blazing fire, a symbol of passion, dedication and sublimation of art.

You left the concert with an emotion that couldn't be more satisfying. Standing in front of the stage, you couldn't help but feel a little regretful. Suddenly, you heard someone calling your name, it sounded very familiar.

"[Name]."

You turned around with a surprised expression "J-Jinwoo?"

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Sitting in Jinwoo's private office, you couldn't help but feel nervous.

You bowed your head, rubbing your hands together in worry over this situation.

Can you consider this a successful idol chase? You didn't expect that one day your idol would invite you to his office. You didn't expect that he would still remember you no matter how obscure you were in high school.

Should you show it to everyone? No! This will affect Jinwoo.

Your mind screamed silently.

"Sorry for bothering you at this time," Jinwoo appeared, sitting down across from you and interrupting your thoughts. "I didn’t expect to see you again at my concert."

This man's voice never fail to make your heart flutter.

"It's okay! I mean, you sing really well… I like you a lot! No, I mean, I like your song a lot… Oh.." You panicked, talking nonsense.

He blinked and chuckled "Oh, thank you."

"I haven't seen you since high school. I tried to contact you but it seems you changed your number."

"Oh, I lost my old number." You rub the back of your neck. "Huh, what are you contacting me for?"

"It's nothing, I've just thought I wanted to keep in touch with my old classmates. Can I have your number?"

No, you can't. You really don't deserve to continue being friends with him. "Okay!"

[Name]!

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Since then, your relationship has taken a step forward. The idol you've admired for so long, who you thought you could never reach, texts you every day.

You even hang out together sometimes. But it's a bit tricky because he's so famous, so you have to be careful.

You don't know what's going on anymore. It feels like you're dreaming.

And then one day he confesses to you. And boom. You're lovers.

What's going on? You don't understand.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

It turns out Jinwoo has liked you for a long time,

He has always liked you, his shy and introverted deskmate. He has always liked your quietness and your secretive concern for him.

He was sad that the two of them could not contact you after graduation. So when he saw you after his concert, he knew he had to seize this rare opportunity.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

So the person you admire, the voice you love has become yours.

Every day Jinwoo will nag, when he is with you he will always talk, when he is not with you, he will also want to call you, talk until the battery runs out, charge the battery and call again.

Every day he uses the voice you like to wake you up, every day he uses the voice you like to wish you good night. From morning to night, from now until the end of life.

Jinwoo is yours.

Such a voice that is loved by many people, in the end it only belongs to you.

Tet holiday has started, I will write more kkkk

[simari]

Engagement Party

The air was thick with the aroma of mouthwatering dishes as the sun began to set. Guests mingled, laughter echoing against the walls, while glasses clinked in celebration of Gabriel and Vivienne’s engagement. Alessandra floated through the crowd, refilling drinks and making sure everyone was having a great time. Juliana, one of Vivienne’s closest friends, stood by the snack table, holding a glass of bubbly. She leaned over to Alessandra with a mischievous grin. “Are you ready for the toast? I’ve got some killer jokes lined up!” “Oh, this is going to be good!” Alessandra said, excitement bubbling in her voice. As the clock struck eight, Juliana and Alessandra exchanged knowing glances and took center stage. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Juliana began, raising her glass high. “Tonight, we gather to celebrate the love between two wonderful people: Vivienne and Gabriel. And let me just say, if love is blind, then Gabriel must be wearing the darkest sunglasses!” Laughter erupted, and Alessandra chimed in, “And if Vivienne can’t find her glasses, Gabriel better watch out! She might just mistake him for a lamp!” More laughter filled the room as Gabriel feigned horror, clutching his chest. “I’ll remember this at the wedding!” “Cheers to love, laughter, and the occasional foot-in-mouth!” Juliana concluded, and everyone raised their glasses, toasting to the happy couple. With the toast done, Alessandra turned up the music, letting the upbeat tunes fill the room. Guests began to sway and twirl, drinks in hand, laughter spilling over like the bubbly in their glasses. As the night wore on, the atmosphere became more relaxed, and the energy was infectious. Suddenly, a slow song started to play, creating a soft contrast to the previous upbeat tunes. Enzo, who had been eyeing Alessandra across the room, decided it was time to make his move. He approached her while she danced with Juliana, who was already twirling her around. “Alessandra,” he said, a charming smile on his face, “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?” “Oh, why not?” she replied, her heart racing a little as she slipped away from Juliana’s grasp, who winked knowingly. As they began to sway together, Enzo leaned in closer. “You know,” he said with a teasing tone, “you desperately need some dance lessons.” Alessandra rolled her eyes, shooting him a playful glare. “I’m an excellent dancer, thank you very much.” Enzo dropped his attention to their feet, pretending to analyze their movements. “Ally, you’ve been stomping on my foot most of the night,” he said, chuckling. The laughter erupted around them as Gabriel and Vivienne, dancing nearby, couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the banter. Alessandra’s cheeks flushed a bright crimson as she realized their friends were listening. “Oh, come on! I’m just giving you a little extra motivation to keep up!” she shot back, trying to regain her composure. “Extra motivation?” Enzo laughed. “I’m going to need a new pair of shoes by the end of the night.” Alessandra laughed along, the embarrassment fading into the warmth of friendship. Enzo noticed her blush and subtly rubbed her back, a silent gesture that said he was there for her, no matter how silly the moment. As the night progressed, the music shifted from lively beats; swaying bodies and soft laughter filled the room. Guests shared stories, reminisced about old times, and danced until their feet ached. When the clock struck midnight, it was time for everyone to head home. Alessandra felt a wave of happiness wash over her as she hugged her friends goodbye. “Thank you for an amazing night, Sandra!” Vivienne beamed, her eyes sparkling with joy. “Absolutely! I had the best time!” Alessandra replied, feeling a warmth in her heart. As the last of their friends departed, Alessandra stood in the doorway, watching them leave with smiles and laughter. She turned back to the empty house, a sense of fulfillment washing over her. Tonight had been everything she hoped for—joyful, hilarious, and filled with love.

[2x14storyuntold]

After You, Before Me - Prologue

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Romance, Drama, Coming-of-Age, Bittersweet

The lights are blinding, the air heavy with anticipation. You're sitting at a table in the front row, the sound of murmurs and clinking glasses filling the grand hall.

All around you, the glittering faces of the industry’s biggest stars are watching, waiting. The room is packed, people in tuxedos and gowns, some laughing, others looking around, eyes scanning for the next big name.

And then, the spotlight shifts. It's time. The moment everyone has been waiting for.

The host steps up to the podium, microphone in hand. The music quiets down. You can feel the tension in the air; the nerves, the hope, the quiet prayers. The crowd is waiting for this announcement, and you’re holding your breath too.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the host says, his voice smooth and confident, “the award for Best Actress of the Year goes to…”

Your heart skips a beat. You’re almost too scared to hear your name, but then—your name.

“Y/N!”

The applause erupts.

You stand up slowly, almost in disbelief. The cheers feel like they’re coming from far away, the noise almost muffled as you step toward the stage.

Your feet are moving on their own as you walk, your body on autopilot. The moment feels surreal, and as you approach the podium, you blink to refocus. The lights are blinding, and your heart is racing so fast you almost can’t catch your breath.

You take the award, the golden statue feeling heavier in your hand than you thought it would. The microphone feels foreign, like something you’ve never held before, but you smile.

You have to smile. Your face, your public face, is all that matters right now.

“Thank you so much,” you say into the mic, your voice steady, but your mind is still reeling. "This… this is for everyone who believed in me, who helped me get here. For my team, my manager, and most importantly, my fans. You all make this possible, and I can’t even put into words how much this means to me."

Your speech comes out easily, words you’ve practiced in front of mirrors and during sleepless nights. But as you finish, a sudden wave of dizziness hits you.

It’s subtle at first, a flicker in your vision, a quiet thud in your chest. But it grows quickly, like a storm on the horizon. Your stomach churns, but you ignore it.

You have to finish. You have to be perfect.

You take a deep breath, hold the trophy tighter, and give a final smile. “Thank you, thank you all. I’m so grateful.”

The applause drowns out the buzzing in your ears as you step back, your legs slightly unsteady. The lights are too bright, the sound too loud, and your body feels like it’s floating in slow motion.

You head backstage, keeping your back straight, acting like everything is fine.

Backstage is a whirlwind of people—a blur of assistants, producers, and journalists. Everyone’s congratulating you, talking over one another, all with smiles on their faces. You give them the same smile, your expression perfect, a mask that hides what’s really going on inside.

Your manager walks up to you, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Amazing! This is everything we’ve worked for. The press is waiting for you. They want interviews, Y/N. You’re going to shine even more tonight!”

You nod, trying to keep your composure. You can’t show them you’re faltering, that something’s off. You can’t let them see. “I just need to use the bathroom first,” you say, your voice a little shaky but still strong enough for them to buy it.

Your manager hesitates, his eyes narrowing. “Alright, but hurry back. They’ll be waiting.”

You give him a reassuring smile and walk off toward the bathroom. The further you go, the more the dizziness increases, and by the time you reach the bathroom, you can barely hold yourself upright.

Once inside, you lock the door and lean against the sink. Your body feels like it’s betraying you. Your breath is shallow, your head spins, and before you can stop it, you bend over the sink and vomit. But it’s not just nausea—it's blood.

Your heart drops.

Panic surges through you. You try to steady yourself, turning on the faucet to drown out the sound, hoping no one outside can hear. The cold water splashes on your face, but the dizziness doesn’t go away. It only gets worse. You grip the edge of the sink, trying to hold yourself together. You know you should be calling for help, but you can’t. You can’t be weak, not here, not now.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Jungkook was bustling around the bar, clearing empty glasses and dirty plates. He wasn’t paying much attention to the chatter around him—just the routine of his shift, helping Seokjin behind the counter. The usual hum of the bar and the clinking of glasses was a comfort, something steady in his life that helped him forget about everything else.

But then, a group of people at a nearby table caught his attention. He heard their voices rising above the others, and one of them laughed in disbelief.

"Wait, isn’t that Y/N? She just won Best Actress, right?"

The others chimed in, “Yeah, she’s from Gongan, right? she is from our town! Wow, she just won Best Actress!”

Jungkook’s steps faltered, and his heart skipped. He turned toward the TV in the corner of the bar, almost on instinct, and saw you gracing the stage in all your glamor.

A rush of emotion hit him, and his breath caught in his throat. He stood frozen, watching you smile brightly as you accepted the award for Best Actress.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away, the image of you so different now—so far from the girl he had once known.

“Jungkook?” Seokjin’s voice was calm, but there was a hint of worry. “You okay, man?”

Jungkook didn’t answer right away. His gaze was still locked on the TV, watching you.

Seokjin stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in on Jungkook. “Jungkook, what’s going on?”

Jungkook finally tore his gaze away from the screen, his jaw tightening. He grabbed a cold beer from the counter, opening it with a quick motion. His hands were shaking slightly as he raised it to his lips, drinking deeply, trying to numb the tightness in his chest.

“I am fine. I need a break,” Jungkook muttered, his voice low and flat, but Seokjin wasn’t buying it. He knew something was wrong.

Seokjin took a step closer, but before he could say anything more, Jungkook pushed past him, walking toward the door.

Jungkook stormed out of the bar, leaving Seokjin standing there with a furrowed brow. He glanced at the door for a moment, his mind swirling with unanswered questions. He hadn’t seen Jungkook like that in a while. Something had shifted, but what?

Shaking his head, Seokjin turned back toward the TV, the screen flashed once more with the image of you smiling brightly.

Seokjin let out a small sigh and shook his head slowly. As he watched you on the screen, Seokjin muttered to himself, more to the air than anyone else. "It’s high time he should move on."