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rinnstars · 5 months ago

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third’s times the charm!

in which you try to confess three times before rin finally understands your feelings

itoshi rin x reader : mainly just fluff, a bit of angst of readers part, no proofreading + likes n reblogs r rlly appreciate ily <3

rin has always been an enigma, as if hes from another world - an alien like figure on your life yet a constant, like an orbit from another galaxy orbiting around you. slowly, youve grown fond of him and suddenly, its no longer just a friendahip - your heart is pumping weirdly, your palms are sweaty, your throat goes dry the second youre beside him (which is most of the time but hey!) maybe its part of growing up, you tell yourself, but deep down this is the “love” you’ve seen in storybooks, manga, movies. denial is always the first thing, avoiding rin during break times, opting to go with your other class friends. eventually, you fall back to the same routine, beside him for lunch in class, stealing the candies he brought (specially for you, he wants to confess but he doesnt.) and of course with love, the next step should be confession as all fourteen year olds rationalise, and thus began your attempt at rizzing confessing to itoshi rin who has become your star.

#1 —VALENTINE CHOCOLATE?!

as all mangas and love story dictates: a gift during valentine practically screams a love confession, if not already hinted by the hearts clumsily pasted onto the heart-shaped box containing your own hand-made chocolates. of course, it comes with a sort of insecurity - what if he doesnt like it? what if he doesnt see me that way? what if our friendship forever changes? what ifs? yet, you held on tightly to the chocolate, walking into class to rin. until you see your own desk beside his flooded with valentine chocolates addressed to rin himself where all of the sudden, you wished to run away far away, you wished to live just in solitude by the ocean, you wish to pretend to be sick and go back home and cry again and again. its stupid, you think, youre just another person in love, youre nothing special. yet, when rin looks at you with sparkling eyes at your chocolates unlike anyone else, you feel as though youre at the top of the war, youre like diamond amongst the rest, that maybe rin sees you differently.

“is that for me?” if he didnt looked so expectant, so hopeful, you might have just not given it to him, simply from the pile of chocolates (that you hope hell pass to you after valentines, and he does.) on the desks. you nodded, passing it to him with a awkward smile. he doesnt get the hint you think, as he opens it without hesitation to eat one - his usual grimace that melted into a small smile changed into a grin, chewing happily onto the overly sweet chocolate you made. you want to be mad, that youll always be in competition with everyone, but when he smiles like that, youve got no choice but to look at him like hes built the very world for you, like hes your star in the dark, like hes your own galaxy.

its now or never. whats the worst that can happen? - that your friendship is forever broken, that your heart is shattered by his own hands, that youll never ever see him the same way again And he’ll never see you again?! “i.. i like you..!” courage, right, thats what those mangas would call it, but deep down it was just an impulse, as if you were born to say it to him, born to love him, like you were soulmates. he doesnt even blink, replying back with about the worst thing someone can hear when they confess : “i hope so? we’re friends.” with the most deadpan voice that had you question everything. nothing like this happens in those romance mangas - he should have either said yes or no! not an in-between?! this doesnt match up to any calculations, not by your friends, not by romance mangas, not by any youtube videos could have prepared you for that response.

nonetheless, you went home with a plastic bag with all of itoshi’s confession chocolates. thats a win? sort of. but its clear that you need a more straightforward approach to get your romantic intention, NOT platonic intention across.

#2 — CONGRATULATIONAL FLOWERS?!

after long months of cringing at the first failure attempt at confessing, and long days of rereading cheesy love mangas to gather ideas, it was finally time for round 2. this time not because of simply encouragement, but from the bursting butterflies in your heart. ever since that, your lovesickness have only gotten worst - if hanahaki was real, no doubt flowers would be pouring out of your lungs from the amount of love that has grown roots into your heart. every moment felt like straight from a k-drama through rose tinted lenses, every action of his felt like a confession, every second with him felt like heaven. and enough was this barrier called embarrassment, fear, cowardice to stop you from pursuing. another year had passed and now each second is like diamond - counting down every second to when lunch starts, to a free period, to after school, to after club - anytime where you can maybe, just maybe spot rin even if he ocassionally runs off for football training that had only lasted longer until the sun sets after the argument with his brother.

deep down, even though youve never met sae, you wished you did just to punch him - for now rin has only grown more distant, whilst your feelings had grown more deeper. like oil and water, you no longer merge together as one, and perhaps this is the last chance to confess before he eventually disappears. growing up is hard, but maybe losing him would be the scariest and hardest part. yet, here you are, still attending all his football matches, waiting for him in the air-conditioned library until the clock ticks to when the school gates closes to find him, waiting for him to come back to you.

flowers. longing and yearning - cameilia and carnation replied back all those cliche love mangas. and so, you saved up for weeks just to buy an overly expensive bouquet - one that seemed out of place with your bags or rin’s everexpanding confession gifts. would it be a rejection, a success? a repeat of the previous year, another retry of last year’s failed confession, just that this time he might just get the idea? hiding the flowers in a separate bag, because certainly this could count as romantic, and youd rather do away with gossips or talks. yet of course, fate strikes again.

“thanks..? its alright to not get gifts for my football matches win though, its nothing major anyways.” and suddenly you take it back. you rather he just thanked you for it platonically. in what world do friends get romantic flowers with ribbons and all sort of decorations for a simple congratulations for a no-name match?! perhaps you two were never meant to be, and this had to be a sign from the gods or something, you concluded. you blinked and laughed it off, your mind spinning with all sort of thoughts - was this his way of rejecting you?! was he truly this clueless or is he trying to let me down?! suddenly all the fantasies and daydreams had fallen flat - this is real life. there is no true school romance, that rhese are feelings left better unsaid as your parents and adults in your life say. teenage love never last, they say - but in this case, they dont work, or at least for you. maybe, your teenage life would be the same mundane, boring ones - filled with just waiting for rin, doing homework, talking with friends, one that is filled with love and normalacy but never the exciting and romantic films you see on tv.

and maybe, just maybe, youve given up on pursuing itoshi rin romantically for the time being. but thats alright, as long as you were friends, youd stay together forever right?

#3 — CONFESSION FOR YOU UNSAID?!

youve lived the rest of your mundane life, completing routines after routines as if its a time loop. maybe, that failure had affected you, brushing off datdreams quickly. growing up meant to be logical, to not blush like a teenage kid, to not linger on hopeless love and dreams - you tell yourself. and rin is still here, like the sun to the earth, always orbiting around you. as long as the world continues to hold you two together as though connected by red strings, itd be alright.

yet, it stings when he tells you about blue lock. its evil, its bitter, its jealousy, its anger that pumps through your very veins. just as rin and you were falling back to back then, where you guys were connected by the hips, to when you had first been enchanted by his star-like eyes. you want to blame the world, the universe for being so cruel. you want to lock yourself, trap yourself in your room, throwing away the key. yet, theres only limited days with itoshi rin, and youd rather die than not be with him until the very end. even if its to the end of your friendship, your dream, your life with you and him together. whether that is to bring him to old arcades where tou two once played, bring him to the old now run-down convenience store where you and him went after school to get lunch, bring him to the mall to take your final photos and lucky charms with him. each moment now even more precipus than previous ones - and suddenly you understand the saying ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’. its love. you know its love, you knew since you were 14 when you gave him the chocolates, you knew since you were 15 when yoi presented him a bouquet, and you know now that youre 16 about to send him off to another world you can never reach.

its selfish when you blurt it out as he was half-way out of your door after your last sleepover. its out of desperation, out of feelings youve kept hidden in an bottle that is now exploding. its impulsive, its unconscious - the way youve just confessed to him that you loved him. “i love you” theres no way to misinterpret that. maybe he’ll tell you theres bo need to be sentimental, that hell be back (you were convinced he wouldnt.), that its cringe. yet, its silence that fills the room and all you wished to do was to run back to your room, to cry into the pillows, to read all those hopeful love mangas.

“.. i hope you meant it.. i love you too.” its anticlimatic, theres no dramatic scene of profession of love the way mangas portray it, yet you think that theres nothing more than you need. its the most itoshi rin (though youve never thought hed ever say love in a context outside of horror movies and games) and yet, its the words that you longed and yearned for for years by now, its the dream youve been daydreaming in class and in bed, its the life yoive envisioned as you look at him from the stands. and perhaps the world has finally answered your prayers, your musings, your complaints.

third’s the charm they say - and you for once agree with those stupid sayings because on your third attempt of confession did you finally get to be with itoshi rin.

#itoshi rin x reader #bllk x reader #bluelock x reader #blue lock x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #ineedarinsobad #rin.<3

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winterzsurprise · 5 months ago

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Change My Mind [3]

Pairing: BTS x reader

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

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

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

Words: 8.8k

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

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

<<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>>

__________

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don't know.

And you hate not knowing.

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

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

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

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

Stunned, you followed the woman without question.

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

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

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

Whatever it is, you're thankful.

“Hey, you still with us?”

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

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

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

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

“Is it boy problems?”

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

“Which one of them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was absurd.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey Alexa, that's a bit…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not when it's as rude as yours.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost.

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

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

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

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

[13:02] Hobi: can ask you a favor [13:02] Hobi: just an itsy bitsy favor 🤏🤏 [13:02] Hobi: I promise it's harmless😁

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

[12:30] Guwon: Eat your lunch soon! [13:03] You: hi sorry late reply, I was having lunch with my co-workers, couldn’t use my phone during. [13:03] You: I hope your lunch was good😁

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

[13:03] Hobi: don't leave me on seen please😢 [13:03] Hobi: noona noona noona noona noona [13:04] You: hoba hoba hoba hoba hoba [13:04] Hobi: YAY [13:04] You: how can I help you? [13:05] Hobi: can you deliver lunch to hyung?😁 [13:05] Hobi: I would do it myself but I'm currently helping Seokjin hyung and Namjoon with the dance [13:06] Hobi: and we both know Yoongi hyung wouldn't eat on time if I do it [13:06] Hobi: can you do it for me?🥺 [13:06] You: sure, you guys still in the dance practice room? [13:07] Hobi: ur a life saver [13:07] Hobi: an angel in disguise [13:07] Hobi: but yes😁 [13:08] Hobi: just knock on the door when you're here😁

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

“Who is it?” Nabi adds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are we talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, what do you guys want?”

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

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

“Couldn't you have done that yourselves?”

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

“Hoba? He's the sweetest though?”

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

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

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

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

“He's not that scary, guys.”

Taehyun scoffs. “Easy for you to say.”

“Crush privileges.” Soobin quietly adds.

“What—”

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

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

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

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

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

Is your friendship still okay?

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

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

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

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

“Did sunbae just ignore noona?”

“Is that even possible?”

“I didn't hallucinate that, right?”

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

“Why wouldn’t I?”

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

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

“Noona!”

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

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

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

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

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

“H-Hi sunbae.”

“Hello, Soobinie.”

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

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

“Then go do it yourself!”

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

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

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

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Yes.” You lie. Jin caught it.

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

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

“You didn't need to, I already ate.”

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

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

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

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

Nobody deserves Seokjin, not even you.

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

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

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

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

“That’s a bit creepy, old man.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wh-what is this?”

“A thank you hug for being the sacrifice and feeding the grumpy dragon instead.” He says with a laugh but you knew what he was trying to do.

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

He sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Special delivery for a grumpy hairless cat!”

A beat.

Then came a grumbled: “Come in.”

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

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

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

“Is it all bulgogi?”

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

“Yeah, you want fried rice or no?”

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

“That's not a proper answer.”

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

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

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

But fried rice isn't healthy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Yoongs.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you looking at me like that?’

You tilt your head. “Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[13:55] You: Oh wow, which one? [13:55] Guwon: The one on the left side, Areum Cafe. [13:55] Guwon: Are you free to get a cup of coffee with me? [13:56] Guwon: Sorry for springing this up on you [13:55] Guwon: I missed you🙁

“Who is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’d you know I need help?”

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

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

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

“I-I am.”

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

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

“Everything just started feeling wrong for some reason.”

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

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

“I actually do.”

“What do you mean by that?”

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

“What is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is breathing important? Obviously yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled lightly. “Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yoo Guwon, a pleasure to meet you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Guwon laughed, a little louder than usual.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I do, kept thinking about you...”

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

“What’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

Immediately, Guwon scrambles off of you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But why does he have to walk so fast?!

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

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

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

“I don’t like him.”

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

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

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

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

“So he's a pretentious prick?”

You sighed. “H-He just—”

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

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

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

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

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

“That's dumb.”

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

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

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

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

“Don’t be dumb, if you want a husband so bad, tell aunt to wait for us to renew our contract this October then I'll marry you.”

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

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

“Bold of you to assume I'd say yes.”

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

“Seokjin also got those.”

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

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

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

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

“Shit, I forgot Jungkook’s muffins.”

345 notes · View notes

saphiccarma · 2 months ago

Text

- The Red Means I Love You

Relationships - Mob Boss!WandaNat x Reader

Summary - Natasha and you have some fun before a rather serious trip to the Danvers' estate.

Warnings: Smut. Side character death. lemme know if i missed any

A/N: I lowkey hate this chapter, but i've rewritten it several times and this was the best one so here you go.

Pt.1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

You soon learned that the woman who held a knife to your neck was named Rio. More commonly known as Lady Death. Her reputation was one that you had heard whispers of from Kate and Yelena, sometimes Bucky, but you never bothered to question it. She was one of the most renowned killers in the mob network, hence her name. Rather than using a gun, she used a knife, a custom-made one that had her initials carved onto it, yet no one knew her last name.

She was even more of an enigma than Natasha. Rio worked for Agatha, the latter being the brains with Rio as the brawn. She executed the kills all according to plan. To your understanding, they were the biggest threat to Wanda and Natsha.

Wanda had deduced it to that pretty quickly, letting you know one night you were over. Rio was married to Agatha, who was Wanda's ex. Sort of. You weren't given the whole story, but Agatha used Wanda while she was with Rio- it was a whole complicated mess you didn't bother to remember.

It was then you learned there were four major groups in this world. They all had their specialties and together would be unstoppable but remained divided. There was Natasha and Wanda's, your personal favorite, and the most powerful. Natasha excelled in combat. Then there was Agatha, which Kate playfully called 'the witches'. They were known for their trickery. Stark was known for his money. Danvers for her skill in trade, able to get anything from anywhere.

Every group specialized in something but were also good at everything. They had to be.

The main thing you retained from that conversation was that Rio and Agatha were dangerous, enough so that made Natasha the slightest bit concerned. It was hard to tell with her, Natasha always had a perfect mask slipped over her face.

Whether it was the mask of the of a perfect girlfriend who was composed and careful, but also sweet and caring. Who woke you up with a kiss on the forehead and a warm cup of coffee while she got dressed for work.

Or if it was the hard, cold persona she wore when directing her people around, voice collected and stern. With a no-nonsense attitude and if you dared to test her, you would regret it.

At home when she was just the slightest bit whiney with her wife, hiding cheeky smiles behind her hand and being a brat, but those moments were few and far between. It didn't matter what mask she wore, there was always one and you had no idea who the real Natasha was.

But, there were little cracks in her mask, parts of her personality that were present in each of her personas. They were hardly noticeable, but you had learned to pick up on them over the months.

The little furrow of her brow when she was concerned and the way her lips twisted down into a scowl. There were little things you had begun to notice over the course of your time with her that helped you find the real her.

And now, you could tell she was pissed, anger radiating off her like a furnace. It was the subtle tilt of her chin as she cupped her chin. Her fingernails, freshly painted a deep red, dug into her cheek as she feigned interest. A man sat in front of her desk, rambling frantically in a thick Italian accent and gesturing wildly with his hands and making absurd facial expressions. He had been brought in by Kate, who claimed that he was waiting outside her apartment when she woke up.

None of the pieces clicked into place as you stood off the side, arms crossed, and listened to him talk. It was hard to keep up, but you picked up little pieces. He had worked for Stark, in the tech department, and was kidnapped some time ago. Not all his sentences were coherent, and you had to string some pieces of jumbled words together. He was held by someone, but he had no idea who.

"Stop," Natasha ordered, holding her hand up, "You are telling me that you work for Stark and were kidnapped?"

"Yes," the man nodded, his Italian accent dripping from his words. He seemed completely oblivious to Natasha's tight tone.

"What happened while you were being held captive?"

He flinched at her words and hands twisted together on top of the desk. Leaning forward, the man tipped his face forward and glanced around as if he were about to share a big secret, "Money," he whispered, "'Stop Stark's money, work day and night." His English wasn't very good.

Natasha hummed, her hand moving to fold in her lap, but not before gesturing vaguely towards the door. You took the hint, moving from your spot, and grabbing the man by the arm. He spluttered, his arms flying wildly as he tried to return to his seat, but you held firm. Dragging him towards the door, you yanked it open, toeing it the rest of the way with your foot. Kate and Yelena stood outside, chatting casually as you tossed him towards them.

Yelena caught him with a smirk, and no words were exchanged as they took him away. You didn't bother asking, Yelena knew you well and knew her sister even better, she would know what to do with him without asking. Kate gave you a playful salute and you returned it with a small before shutting the door again and meandering back over to Natasha's desk.

Her signature "pissed off" look had disappeared, the furrow in her brows were smoothed out and she was smiling faintly. Rounding her desk as Natahsa pushed her chair back slightly, you sat on it, leaning against the hard wood.

"What happened to him?" You mused, your gaze drifting off the side, "Who took him?" Your hands were shoved in your pockets, fidgeting with a stray string that was loose. While you worried over what he wanted, why he came to Natasha instead of Stark, you completely missed the look on Natasha's face. Your mind was swirling with all the possibilities. None of it made sense.

Before you had time to ponder it more, Natasha grabbed you by the collar tugging you down and planting a firm kiss onto lips. After letting out a surprised yelp, you melted into her lips and her hands tugged you down further until you fell to your knees and now Natasha was the one leaning down.

"It's been a long day," she whispered, against your lips.

You caught onto her innuendo pretty quick, your own lips curling into a smirk as you sank further into the floor and ignoring the harsh way the wood dug into your skin. Gripping onto the hem of her pants, you tugged them down and she lifted her hips to help, her boxers coming with. You slipped further under her desk as Natasha spread her legs and slid forward. Tentatively, you placed a soft kiss on her thigh. Her skin was soft, a few scars littering it from over the years and you lingered on those spots for longer, being sure to suck enough to leave a new mark. Trailing your lips up and so close to where you knew she wanted you, before skipping right over it and moving to the other thigh, your teeth grazing her skin.

Before you had a chance to continue, Natasha hand was yanking on your hair, shoving your face into her heat.

"Don't fucking tease," she hissed, pushing you further into her and holding you there. Her thighs bracketed your head, and you poked your tongue out, running it through her folds. You moaned at the taste of her, the vibrations causing her to let out a moan of her own. Your tongue circled her clit, and you latched your lips onto it, lightly sucking. Natasha's hand tightened in your hair, but her thighs loosened their grip around your head.

It allowed you to hear her moans all the more and the soft whines she let out. Grazing your teeth against her clit and sucking even harder and her sounds were music to your ears, only egging you on further as your tongue swirled. Your hand came up and you inserted two fingers, slowly pumping in and out as you played with her clit. Her hands tugged on your hair as you picked up pace, not exactly harsh but not gentle either.

You could feel her thighs start trembling as your fingers curled just right and you pumped in and out, your tongue swirling around her clit and lips wrapped tightly. She let out a sound that was a mix of a groan and whine. Slyly you looked up at her through her lashes, and her eyes were screwed tightly shut, head thrown back and mouth parted. The sight spurred you on even more, and with one more tight suck and curl of your fingers, Natasha was cumming all over you.

Her hips bucked into your face as her orgasm washed over her and you lapped up all her juices greedily. Natasha whined as she came down from her high and you didn't stop. As she pushed your face away, you matched her whine, giving her a pleading look. Laughing softly at your pouty lips, Natasha tapped your cheek and smoothed down your ruffled hair, not that it helped much. She reached down, and for a brief second you hoped she was going to pull you up into her lap, but instead she just tugged her pants up.

Then her foot slid in between your legs, the tip of her boot pressing right up against your core. You whined, pressing down on her shoe desperately, hoping for some help, but she only smirked down you.

"You're not getting any help with this one, pretty girl," She smiled, mocking and cruel, "You wanted to try and tease.” A loud whine escaped your lips before you could stop it, but all Natasha did was laugh softly.

Your hands found her knees for purchase, using them to keep you steady as you bounced up and down on her shoe. The hard tip of it was right up where you needed it, and yet it wasn't enough. Frantically, you ground down, searching for friction that Natasha wouldn't give and you let out a needy whine. She ignored you, instead leaning further back and crossing her arms, a sinister smirk planted on her lips as she watched you whine and squirm beneath her.

It hardly registered in your head when the door was opened, Wand sauntering in. She raised an unamused eyebrow at the situation, but didn't say anything about it.

"I talked to that man, says there was a gold star on the door of the basement he was being kept in, and only one person brands themselves with gold stars," There was a proud tone to Wanda's words. Natasha’s foot jerked upwards and you let out a startled yelp. "Let's pay Danvers a visit, shall we?"

You had just started to find a good pace, aside from Natasha’s sudden disruption, and the coil in your stomach tightening when Natasha's foot pulled away. Keeping loudly, you pouted up at her and tugged on her hands.

She offered you a smile of faux pity, "Sorry sweet girl, we have stuff to do."

^________________^

You were rather sulky as you trailed behind Wanda and Natasha, Bucky and Yelena standing next to you. All three of you were in standard clothing for tactical outings like these, but Wanda and Natasha were dressed rather elegantly. Your core throbbed with need from being left wanting, but you shoved that away for the sake of focusing, even though it was hard.

You were approaching a large building and as you got closer a gold star was carved onto the door. It was a nice house, with a grey tiled roof and a dark door, but there were scarcely any windows. Bucky signaled for you to hold back, and you obeyed, hand moving to rest on your gun, ready to tear it out at a moment’s notice. Smoothing down the front of her shirt for invisible wrinkles, Natasha kicked open the door, not caring if it was unlocked.

"Danvers!" she called, "We have some problems!"

A woman rounded the corner, dressed in black slacks and a pale colored blouse, star earrings dangling from her ears. Blonde hair was pulled back into a half-ponytail, the rest falling just above her shoulders. She raised a brow. Annoyance was written all over her face, yet her posture said otherwise. Hands tucked into her pockets and shoulders slouched, you would’ve guessed that she was seeing friends.

"Romanoff. Nice to see you too." Danvers smiled coyly, the edges of it sharp and fake. She tipped her head inwards, "Have a seat?"

Cautiously, you followed as she led your group into a room where a couple of others were waiting. Both men. One short and a little chubby, the other tall and lanky, complete opposites. Your hand tightened on your gun.

There were two plush couches, both a pale shade of blue with a white carpet settled beneath them. It hardly matched the aesthetic of the rest of the room, but who were you to judge? Your apartment was crap before you joined Natasha.

"You were expecting us," Wanda's voice cut through the tension, her voice silky smooth. Danvers smirked, nodding and gestured towards the couch. Wanda and Natasha took delicate seats across from Danver as you stood behind them, Bucky and Yelena at your side. "You kidnapped a man."

Shrugging, Danvers waved her hand, "We all have."

Bucky tapped your arm and you dropped your hand from your gun, albeit reluctantly and with a glare. He nodded in approval before fixing his gaze straight across the room, almost robotic.

"You kidnapped one of Stark's men. Why?"

If you watched close enough, you could see surprise flicker across Danvers' face, just barely there and hardly noticeable. It was the slight part of her lips that gave her away. Rather than admitting to her confusion, Danvers shrugged casually.

"I needed his help." She stared at her nails, seemingly unfazed by the two intimidating women across from her.

Natasha's jaw clenched with frustration, "With?"

"You think I would just give that to you?" Danvers laughed, "That's cute. What will I get in return?"

For a brief moment, Natasha pretended to think about it, before she snapped her fingers. Bucky had his gun out before you could blink and shot one of the people at Danvers' side. Blood splashed on the furniture and spilled out on the white carpet as the person dropped dead. The three women were unphased by it as Danvers leaned closer, her chin resting on her hand.

"You think that's going to convince me?" Her gaze drifted over to you, eyes scanning you up and down, "I'll take her."

Your heart froze in your ribcage as you processed her words and any reply you had caught in your throat. Anxiously, you glanced at Natasha. Would she actually give you up?

"No." She said firmly, shaking her head, "She's not for sale." The anxiety that had began coursing through your veins, red hot, cooled at her words and you let out a silent exhale.

The blonde woman hummed, her eyes trailing over you once more before returning to Natasha. You tried to ignore the man that was still bleeding all over the carpet, his blood staining it a deep red, and yet no one seemed to care. It was as if he had never died.

Natasha and Danvers seemed to be having a silent conversation, words unsaid yet understood. Eventually, Danvers sighed and leaned back into her chair.

"I don't have the information you want Romanoff, I'm not the right source. Try Agatha, I've been hearing some rumors about her lately." She cast a fleeting glance to the dead man on the floor, "And next time, don't kill anyone for show please? It'll be a pain to clean up."

Their casualty with death baffled you. A man was dead, just like that. He could have had a family, a wife, kids. Or maybe a sister, or maybe- Who knows. Granted, most people wouldn't be here if they had something worth living for. But you didn't want to be here and was dragged into this whole mob business because of your father and Natsha threatened your mother. You hadn't seen her in forever and she was probably worried sick.

Natasha stood from the couch, flashing Danvers a predatory smile that was all teeth, before leaving. The rest of you followed after her obediently, but even after you left, you couldn't stop your mind from wandering to the dead body and how no one seemed to care.

^______________^

You lay in bed with Natasha and Wanda, both on either side of you. You were spread across their laps, feet in Wanda's as she trailed her nails up and down your ankles, and Natsha carded her hands through your hair. Sighing in content, you were grateful for the moment of peace, even though you knew it was brief.

A show was on the TV but you were hardly paying attention. Two deaths in just a few days. The first was the first time you had ever killed, but you knew it wouldn't be the last. Just thinking about it made your stomach churn again and bile rise in your throat.

"Do you ever get used to the death?" you blurted, regretting the question the moment it left your mouth.

Wanda's hand tightened on your ankle like a chain, but you found it grounding as Natasha looked down at you, her lips pursed.

She shrugged, "Yeah. Some of them still hurt, but you'll get used to it. You have to in this business." She said the words so casually, unaware that you were having an entire internal debate over it. How could she not care? Killing was taking someone else's life and who was she, or you, to decide whether someone lived or died? It wasn't your place. Still, Natasha killed left and right, seemingly uncaring for the lives she took and unbothered by the consequences they had.

Wanda traced a circle onto your ankle, "Close of your heart," she whispered, "As movie like that sounds, it helps."

You swallowed thicky, but nodded, training your eyes onto the TV. Close your heart.

Taglist: @macaroni676 @gaylorvader @ashadash0904 @sunshine-makes-flowers-grow @wolfangnight @rosekjsses

#natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x you #wanda maximoff x you

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silmarillaure · 10 months ago

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How I imagine Feanor's relationships with each of his sons

Maedhros

Given Feanor's bond with his dad, I think he tried recreate that with his firstborn but that didn't work out like he planned because unlike Finwe who's blind to Feanor's faults and Feanor who can never open up about his frustrations with Finwe, Feanor & Maedhros are both total hotheads.

However, they love each other just as fiercely. Surprisingly, both of them carry a lot of trust in each other despite their many disagreements and are comfortable being honest with each other. Maedhros will tell Feanor his opinions even if his dad won't like them.

Maedhros feels safe with his dad regardless, he knows his dad will love him even if he's disappointed in him (EX: The Ships). He became much more closed off after loosing Feanor, he can't really open up to others the same way.

Maglor

Maglor shares Finwe's passiveness when it comes to Feanor. He does not like the idea of fighting with his dad, so he rarely voices his disagreement ever, but that doesn't exactly make them closer.

The love is absolutely there but Feanor does not know Maglor like he knows Maedhros. Maglor is an Enigma, he can easily talk to Feanor for hours but Feanor thinks back on the conversation, he realizes how little Maglor told him about himself.

Unironically, the most Feanor can learn about Maglor is through his son's music. Music is Maglor's outlet, his songs are his thoughts, the sounds reflect emotions he's felt.

But overall a very chill relationship. Maglor is an obedient son, Feanor is a supportive father. Maglor holds some resentment towards his father after he lived to see everything the oath took from him, but he'd still run into Feanor's arms as if he was a boy again if they ever reunited.

Celegorm

Celegorm's resemblance to Miriel complicates everything. Feanor knows he's strong and healthy, but he's still protective of him to a fault. Celegorm hates it, he doesn't understand why he's constantly fussing over him, but he feels like Feanor treats him like a fragile doll.

Eventually he does understand it, but he's not above telling Feanor off when his dad starts panicking over every little scratch he gets.

However, while he reasonably has his boundaries, Celegorm is highly affectionate. Both his elder brothers aren't very touchy people, and Feanor, while he doesn't ask for it, is highly comforted by Celegorm affection and warmth.

I think after Celegorm joined Orome's hunt and Feanor busied himself with the younger kids, their relationship becomes much healthier.

Caranthir

Surprisingly the healthiest relationship Feanor has with any of his sons.

Caranthir is a bit of a loner, and that worries Feanor a bit. When he sees Caranthir alone, he goes to spend time with him because loneliness is something Feanor understands on a deep level.

Caranthir is the opposite of Maglor when it comes to expressing himself. He's snarky and always let's his displeasure be known, however, unlike Maedhros he usually agrees with Feanor or doesn't care so he's never really at serious odds with his dad.

Curufin

Feanor has a good relationship will all his sons but Curufin is the only one who shares interest in Feanor's first love, creating. Naturally, they're attached by the hip.

Feanor has all these hopes and dreams for Curufin, who desperately wants to please his father. Curufin isn't as good as Feanor & Feanor knows that, but he hopes Curufin will be able to get there one day.

Curufin never challenges Feanor like Maedhros does, doesn't mask his feelings in front of Feanor like Maglor does, doesn't instinctively make Feanor worry like Celegorm does, & he isn't as snarky or snappy like Caranthir is. Curufin is the perfect companion, Feanor even tells him they're a perfect pair.

And they are perfect pair, for Feanor, not for Curufin. Curufin wants to have the type of relationship with Feanor that Feanor had with Finwe, but he can't.

Finwe is the fuel that's makes Feanor's bright flame grow and grow and grow and grow until he's shines the brightest, but Feanor has become such overwhelming fire that he engulfs Curufin within him.

And Feanor can not pour all his love into just Curufin the way Finwe did to him, he loves his other sons deeply and passionately as well.

(Sorry twins, don't have enough to say right now but I might come back to you guys later)

#feanor #maedhros #maglor #celegorm #caranthir #curufin #finwe #feanorians #sons of feanor #the silmarillion #silmarillion

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valentine-cafe · 3 months ago

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May I have a churro with some egg tarts this time?

[Afab reader]

Just thinking about Alessio running back to his "dumb" human again!! But this time you're not safe in your apartment anymore! He saw you bound in ropes in the living room with a gun pressed to your head and tears in your eyes. He saw red, and it was over before it even started. He'd make sure there was a cloth over your head so you wouldn't see all the blood splattered around your home. He knows you can't stay there anymore. It was really an impulsive decision, he had to take you to his home! You clung onto him so tightly the whole way there and your muffled cries into his clothes made his heart clench. It made his heart pound when you didn't flinch away from his bloodied hands. He shoved you towards Jingyi when you first got home, telling him that he needed to make sure you stayed safe. And you're just a dumb human after all! So maybe that's why it was so easy for you to cling to a stranger with teary yet hopeful eyes! Even when there was not even one emotion crossing his pretty face, just peering down at you with the prettiest pair of snake eyes you've ever seen. Clinging onto him oh so tightly with the promise of being kept safe. There was a moment of silent communication between them, longing into each other's eyes. It was like they were one, Jingyi fully understanding Alessio even when there wasn't a single word said. Like a full conversation was made in the seconds of silence, even with Jingyi's concern about a human being in an enigma sector hanging silently in the air. How did you even get here in one piece? How this dumb human has caught the eye of his fiancé. All being left unsaid and unanswered from just a single look. The way you look up at him as if he's the whole world has him bringing a hand around your waist. Maybe he understands the obsession his fiancé has grown towards you. Alessio tells you that he has to leave to take care of a few loose strings, but he doesn't include the fact that he's hunting down every last being involved with the little stunt they pulled on you. He's gone before you can respond back. Your pretty eyes would make their way to him again, and later, with the same tears in your eyes, looking up at him while he pounds away at your cunny! All wrapped up in his tail. And it'll be those same eyes that light up when you see Alessio at the door. Only being able to call his name in a hoarse voice with Jingyis tail coiled around you and his cocks keeping your pussy stuffed full of his cum. Jingyi will just say that you're so warm, that all the heat will come out if he lets you go. But Alessio would make room because the envy that started to creep up on him made it difficult to ignore. But you'd be sure to litter both of their faces with kisses!!

-🍄

˖⁺. ﹙ rockstar rebel boyfriend x gn reader x hot naga mechanic bf. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . always keeping the good stuff to yourself. !! 🍒 : rockstar ˖ yandere ˖ arsonist ˖ villain ˖ enigma character ˖ naga ˖ mechanist ˖ grim reaper﹙ 1311 alessio & jìngyí. ﹚

reader gets shared by alessio and jìngyí after jìngyí finds out about alessio and reader's relationship

“insatiable - aren’t you?”

alessio’s sneer to his fiance’s ear is only met with a small scoff. jìngyí’s hips ram into yours one more time for good measure. fucking out another round your squirting cum.

“you’ve been fucking this pretty pussy for months, and only now you decide to share it with me?”

evidentially, the snake man is pissed. given the way that he starts thrusting into you. slow. rough. like a merciless piston that has you whining and moaning. clinging onto the sheets. onto alessio’s hand that wanders over to brush at your side.

“b-baby - please -” you pout over at alessio. as though he would be the better option. once jìngyí finished up - the rockstar rolled you over onto your tummy and pounded you sore.

“can’t leave you for two minutes until you’re begging to get your cunt filled again. is that right? yeah? fuckin’ whore.” his rough voice to your ear makes you see stars. yet you don’t know what to focus on. him or jìngyí’s cock battering down your throat as they use all of your holes.

what better way to make you forget the situation than this?

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su8ki · 4 months ago

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LETTING GO

toxic! jaehyun x reader. angst. no comfort. synopsis - being put into the same cycle with jaehyun, you had finally given up, no longer wanting to hold onto the thin string of hope that you had built on your own. wc. 933

a/n - i felt the need to write an angsty imagine so i ended up with this. i might make a pt. 2 to this but then again im not too sure on that idea yet

++ read under the cut

jaehyun was an enigma. it was hard to fully understand him and the intentions that he held. one moment he would act like you never existed and the next he was begging for your attention, treating you as if you were his, and whispering sweet words to keep you grounded.

it was a complicated relationship is what you told yourself. but in reality, you were nothing more than a mere call for jaehyun when he needed, you were there for his convenience and no matter how many times you were hurt, you constantly found yourself back into his arms, repeating the same cycle.

"you can't keep letting him do this to you y/n."

sungho followed your gaze, landing on jaehyun’s figure who had his arms around another girl. it was nothing new to him, constantly finding you in the same position over and over again. no matter how hard he tried to get you to understand that jaehyun was bad for you, it never got through to you. it was tiring, frustrating even.

seeing as you refused to take your eyes off of jaehyun, sungho scoffs. "look if you want to keep going back to him despite knowing how he treats you, then so be it." you knew he was fed up with the way you've been acting. you couldn't blame him, not when he tried his best to be there for you every time. hell, if you were in his position you would feel the same way.

"i'm sorry." was the only thing you could say to him as he got ready to leave. sungho knew you were in a vulnerable state but he was tired of the constant back and forth, always finding himself in the middle of it.

"you don't have to say sorry to me, i just want you to do better and finally put yourself first. and hopefully you can do that on your own now." he sighs, walking away in hopes that his words reach you this time.

as you watch the back of sungho’s figure whisk away, your eyes find themselves back on jaehyun. you felt guilty. your relationship was affecting not only you but the relationships around you and you only had yourself to blame. with your life centered around jaehyun, it placed you in a box.

as numerous thoughts ran around in your head, your eyes finally met his, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes in your devastation. without a second glance, he turned his attention back to the girl beside him, ignoring your presence.

what did you expect?

turning on your feet, you were ready to leave. it was clear what his intentions were for the night, inviting you and then deliberately ignoring you to play with your emotions. you couldn't help but to feel stupid for thinking that something would be different tonight. as you make your way past the bodies, hoping to escape the suffocating room, your eyes linger over jaehyun’s figure one last time before you make your way out the door, knowing you'd break even further if you continued to stand there any longer.

being met with the crisp night air you took a deep breath in. wanting to be anywhere that was void of jaehyun, your legs quickly find themselves taking you to the nearest park, occupying an empty bench.

the tranquility of the night leads you to recount memories of your relationship with jaehyun. it was bitter yet somehow the sweet memories have never failed to cloud your vision. you wanted to hold on to the hope you built with the good memories you had of your relationship, believing that despite all the horrible things jaehyun had done to you, he still cared.

your train of thought was broken by the sound of a ding. pulling your phone out of your pocket, you unlock it only to be met with a message.

jaehyun: where did you go? you aren't mad again right? you know you’re overthinking it.

the text makes you scoff, anger rising at how indifferent his response was. sungho’s words begin to weigh heavily on your mind and for a moment, you began to think. is this what you really wanted? with jaehyun, you only seemed to lose something each time you decided to go back— friends and even yourself. it wasn’t healthy anymore and as you came to the realization, the string of hope you worked so hard to hold onto had finally snapped.

you had to let go.

despite the twinge in your chest at the thought of separating from jaehyun, you knew it was for the better-- for yourself and your peace. so with that, you finally found the courage to end it.

you: i'm done jae. im tired of constantly being made to feel as if i'm special only for you to treat me like im some sort of game for your entertainment.

jaehyun: you know that's not true. i care about you, y/n.

the words alone almost made you give in. pathetic. you thought to yourself knowing jaehyun didn't mean it, only saying it to keep you under his grasp. with a heavy heart, you send one last message.

you: please dont contact me again.

your finger hovered over the block button, hesitating for a moment before finally deciding to commit. it was done. shutting your phone off, you sighed, leaning your head back onto the bench to look at the night sky.

"you'll be okay, y/n." you knew the journey that came after jaehyun would be difficult but this was a start.

end.

#su8ki works!#boynextdoor angst #boynextdoor imagines #myung jaehyun imagines #jaehyun imagines #myung jaehyun angst #jaehyun angst #boynextdoor x reader #myung jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x reader

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suigetsusunny · 3 months ago

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Temporary Whispers Of The Heart ⊹₊⟡⋆ | Sosuke Aizen X Reader

Chapter 1; Prologue | Haunted

ꜱᴏᴜꜱᴜᴋᴇ ᴀɪᴢᴇɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ; ᴀ ʙʟᴇᴀᴄʜ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Aizen Sousuke, the enigma of a being has been rashly released from his prison sentence to allow for the Soul Society to repair damages resulting from Yhwach's terror.

Your previous comrade and now sworn enemy is required to join forces with you in order to aid the Soul Society in its new branches into the Human world as his power is now once again weaponised by them for support.

Every moment you spend with your old 'friend' feels more torturous than having each of your limbs slowly cut off with a chainsaw, the past often creeping up on you the more you were forced to interact with him not helping in the slightest.

Can you work through your difficulties together for the sake of the Soul Society as you both once did?

PROLOGUE | HAUNTED

Shihōin; Y/N.

Half-human, Half-Shinigami. Illegitimate child of the Shihōin family, half-sister of Yoruichi, cast away at youth from the her family due to her illegitimacy. It wasn't a large bother, however, as she was picked up quickly by Unohana and raised under her wing.

A long time ago, she worked tirelessly as a novice soul reaper, moving from city to city in the human world to settle disorder and misconduct, receiving high praise and offers in return.

A sufficient candidate as deemed by Shunsui and Unohana back then, a well fit as pertaining to her Shihōin heritage and uptight personality. She was therefore appointed Lieutenant of Division 2 for this reason after Yoruichi's banishment, the Soul Society desperately requiring assistance in the dire period of sudden Hollowfication. Yamamoto required as much force as he could gather from anyone, and another hailing from the Shihōin family yet out of contact with her sister, she was deemed a sufficient replacement in this dire time.

Graceful and elegant, a sweet child whom did only her best to protect her honour and the dignity of the Soul Society.

Y/N held onto the quintessential value of camaraderie between her peers, ensuring to thoroughly understand and be by the side of each Captain, regardless of how miniscule she felt under them as compared to their astounding skill.

She formed a strong bond with a particular individual back in the day. A genuine individual such as herself, trusting and diligent. Fit like a pair of mahjong eyes, he would joke as they enjoyed a cup of tea with one another.

˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Pre - fake Aizen death; Soul Society arc.

...

"The moon's gaze feels like a blessing tonight."

Aizen's soft hazel locks glistened almost hauntingly in the moonlight with their beauty, the glow present on his body being simply enchanting. You glanced towards the living beauty lying on the floorboards beside you as he spoke, his incomprehensible poems and metaphors once more befuddling you.

"Yes, it is quite bright tonight." You returned his reverent smile, enjoying the soft moment of silence.

"Do you know why I called you here tonight, Y/N?"

You turned to look at him as he spoke, shrugging as you laid back onto the oak porch of Aizen's quarters before returning to staring out into the night sky. You felt a timid blush creeping up to your cheeks and a buzz in your chest as you pondered why he did.

"No... I presumed it was just for some company. Or a drinking partner."

Your heart rate went erratic as he chuckled back and turned from the stars to face you, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. The chestnut floorboards creaked as he leaned his elbow onto them, propping his head up to rest on the back of his hand. Oh, he was truly moonkissed.

You felt a sliver of hope arise in your heart as it pounded irrationally with the way he graced you with just his gaze. Butterflies rashly gnawed at the enclosure of your chest, it felt as if they would explode out of your stomach at any given moment. You silently prayed he would say the words you were yearning for him to say.

"... There's been a lot of unresolved disorder in the Soul Society, hasn't there."

You tilted your head, perplexed at his abrupt statement, yet you still nodded to signal your focused attention. Aizen leaned backwards once again, gazing into the constellations as he spoke.

"Hollowfication... The sudden betrayal of Urahara and Yoruichi... Even the current weak intruders that are somehow getting through the Soul Society's defenses... You don't think it's lamentable that events of such insignificance have been causing the Soul Society so much loss?"

No words came out of your mouth, you served only as a silent observer to his choice of topic. You slowly rose and sat up to pay further heed to what he was saying.

"It is an upsetting time for all of us, I think." You softly reassured, unsure at what he was getting at.

Aizen sat up alongside you, shifting his body a bit closer to yours. His once comforting scent and warmth made you slightly uncomfortable as he extended an arm around your back, holding your arm in his extended hand and tenderly caressing it with his thumb. Goosebumps erected on the skin underneath your shihakushō where he so carefully touched.

"Don't you agree that it's clear that the Soul King is too weak to reign this world any longer?"

You paused, the familiar sparkle in his eyes fading the longer you stared into them.

"What are you suggesting, Mr. Aizen."

He sighed, briefly looking downwards before letting out a soft chuckle. "I will change this world, bit by bit if I must. It's clearly necessary, the balance of power in this world is catastrophic. There needs to be some sort of order... I'm sure you can understand out of all people, Y/N."

Your mouth gaped, pure repulsion flowing through your veins as his once compassionate gaze was replaced with unrecognisable animosity. So cruel it could be comparable to a bestial hollow.

"You... All of this was really you?"

You attempted to shuffle your arm gently out of his grip, backing away steadily as you tried to retain your composure.

"Mr. Aizen. You know this cannot fix anything. There is no solution or outcome that could ever result from this that would provide any sort of positive outcome for this world. You know this." You state, firmly rebutting his argument.

Aizen grunted, tsking as he sighed exasperatedly.

"You cannot compare your intelligence to my own, Y/N.

I'm sure you're well aware."

His cunning eyes shot you a vexatious glance as he scoffed at your attempt to reason with him.

"There has to be some sort of catalyst for change... a leader. I despise obeying this pitiful, weak Soul King like some sort of lifeless being and I refuse to do so any longer. I will see change and become its leader. I shall become a God if it's what it takes to change this world."

You scowled at him, the words coming out of his mouth stabbing you like daggers.

"Do not dare to harm the Soul King. Your desire to become a God is simply only for your own good and selfishness. Return to the society and repent or..."

The way his profoundly alluring, sepia irises shone in the moonlight captivated your senses, causing you to stammer and stall your defense. Even knowing the severe power imbalance between the two of you, you still swiftly freed yourself from his grip and stood up to unsheathe your Zanpakutō, the edge pointed directly at his Adam's apple.

"I will have to halt you myself."

Aizen's leer and sly grin mocked you, belittling you as he rose alongside you. His change in demeanour stumped you, the way his mischievous eyes taunted you in the luminescence of the pale moon truly petrifying you. A benign chuckle emitted from his hexing lips as he walked towards you, backing you into his room. The loud clacks of your waraji sandals gradually replaced with soft tufts as the flooring changed from oak floorboards to the tatami of his room whilst you retreated as far as you could from him.

"You can't stop me. I'm simply asking you to come with me. I want you to join me, Y/N...

You're perfect for my alliance."

Aizen's illusion faded, revealing another ominously standing in the corner, next to his futon. Your eyes darted sporadically around the room as several Aizen's emerged from the darkness surrounding you, causing you to hurriedly stumble away from him until your back slammed against the shoji wall.

You started to grasp the true nature of his plan and his request for you to join him.

Of course...

You were half human, half soul reaper after all. A rare case... a perfect little experiment for his hollowfication plan.

"How dare you threaten to use me like you've used all these innocent souls. I refuse. Return and repent, Mr. Aizen. Please. Should you turn yourself in now Council 46 may lower your punishment."

Your merciful plea had a limited effect on Aizen, the illusions in the room finally fading to reveal his true self.

"That is not what-"

You felt peril creeping up on you as he approached you, and you returned your Zanpakutō to the same cultivated pose as before. You threatened to dig it deeper into his neck, as a trickle of blood slid down it as a result from your increased proximity.

"Repent, Mr. Aizen!"

"No. You do not understand-"

Before he could restrain you once more, you briskly moved aside, hardly escaping his grip. You knew you didn't stand a chance.

You didn't think as your fingers latched onto the shoji door, violently sliding it open as you barely managed to escape his room. The sound of your sandals clacking against wooden porch echoed throughout Aizen's quarter and you tossed them aside, ridding yourself of any noise to conceal your location better.

I am far too weak to battle him myself. I have to tell them. Shunsui. Unohana. Sister...

Flashes of your traitor sister somehow always managed to poison your mind whenever you were in jeopardy and were in dire need of a hand. Your aching heart as a result of this was not helping your ability to quickly retreat and fix the situation. Your legs moved on their own, leaping over obstacles as you hastily made your way to the other Captain's quarters. You huffed spasmodically as your lungs begged for air from the intense speed you were travelling at.

You glanced behind you, the lack of Aizen in your sight relieving you. You prevented yourself from faltering as you kept your eyes focused on the target ahead of you, releasing your kido technique to jump higher over other living quarters and move faster.

So close... Your mind motivated you as you could perceive Shunsui's quarters in your sight.

So close...

Yet so far.

A familiar gait advanced rapidly behind you, yet you kept running. You refused to stop until you reached Shunsui's deck.

Unfortunately, a hand clasped around your wrist rashly, the grip so hard it felt as if it could burn through your skin.

The sly fox had outrun the feeble rabbit.

You were yanked backwards, a hard surface that once gave you comfort sending chills down your spine as your back collided with his chest.

An arm secured around your waist and another slithered over your mouth to halt your shrieks as Aizen took hold of you. He muttered an order to Tousen under his breath and before you knew it, you were transported into an unfamiliar room.

You cursed yourself for being so weak, you could not even heed a warning before he had caught up to you. You continued to struggle before you felt intense reiatsu suppress you, until you were immobilised and forced onto your knees.

Your begs for mercy and curses were silenced from a talisman being harshly sealed around your mouth with Aizen's rough hands, following with reiatsu cuffs sealed around your wrists.

"I knew you were too dense to comprehend this." Aizen huffed, shaking his head as he gave an order to Tousen to open an exit.

"I gave you your chance. Your ungrateful response will cause you to now suffer, as I cannot have you ruin my plans due to your own idiocracy."

You muffled curses and swore to become stronger underneath the talisman, before its effects started to cause your head to spin. Hearing you, Aizen whipped around to face you, his haori flowing slowly along him as he kneeled down on one knee to bring your chin up with his index and thumb.

"Oh? I look forward to the day you prove it to me then, Y/N."

The last thing you perceived was the curled side of his mouth as he gave you a cunning grin, before your eyes lolled back and your head slammed onto the floor, fainting. You were only to be found unconscious Council 46's court room and released days later by Hitsugaya after discovering the murder of the 46 by Aizen.

˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

...

You thought you would never see that man again after his banishment into the Muken, let alone set free out and about. Yet here he was. Aizen Sosuke, standing right in front of you.

A minute silence ensued as you paused in your tracks on the way to your new workplace - the newly appointed firm building in Karakura for the Soul Society. An illusion? A prank by Mayuri? Not a funny one to say the least.

"Will you keep staring at me like that or will you actually address my existence?" Aizen chuckled cordially at your dumbfounded expression.

You wasted no time in flipping out your Soul pager from your pocket as you rang Shunsui with great speed. Squeezing the flip phone by pressing it between your shoulder and your ear, you used both hands to lock Aizen's hands behind his back and suppress him with your own reiatsu. You looked down at his wrists overlapped firmly from your hands, bewildered that he could still even stand from the thick reiatsu cuffs on him and your own suppressing him.

"What an impolite way to greet a former comrade..." He muttered as his face was mercilessly slammed against the side of the building.

You scoffed and the line finally picked up, allowing you to finally release your agitation. "Shunsui sir, care to explain why special threat Aizen Sosuke is roaming the Human world without a care in the world?" You barked into the phone, rage filling your veins.

,,Ah, Y/N! A hello would be nice... Oh! That... right. I forgot to tell you. Um, don't be too upset but...

I've had to appoint him as your assistant.''

Your eyes widened larger than saucers.

,,I'll explain more when I arrive-''

"Is this a joke? This isn't amusing. Explain to me right now, what on earth you were thinking?! First you set him free whilst Yhwach is terrorising everyone, and now this? What is wrong with you, you egotistical, idiotic, stupid excuse of a Captain! I deplore you-"

The line abruptly cut, Aizen's suppressed chuckles slightly setting free as he snickered at Shunsui hanging up on you. You slammed his jaw once again into the concrete wall to silence him in response.

"Do not speak until he gets here or I will mash your jaw into this wall so hard you will never speak another nonsensical word out of your ugly mouth ever again."

He seemed to finally comply, and you let out an exhale of relief.

˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

What a fool of a God.

To assign Aizen as assistant chief executive officer of the Karakura office? Shunsui must be out of his head. Truly.

Aizen's reign knows no end, unfortunately.

And neither does his gaze.

...

"You are making a fool out of me, Shunsui."

A dark gaze perpetuated contact with yours as you felt yourself being figuratively cut from the sharpness of his irises. Aizen being your colleague once again. After what, years upon years?

A joke, really. Unfortunately not one you were willing to entertain.

Shunsui, that cunning man. You damned his ideas of releasing Aizen from the Muken and allowing him to bloom once again previously as well. It was truly a pain that his immense power was unfortunately required and weaponised by the Soul Society.

In the human world with guards and intense reiatsu cuffs, he knew better than to attempt to do any harm. Therefore, his removal from the Soul Society allowed it to properly repair the irrevocable damage and harm done without having him wander around it, free to take the reins of its horse once again. Yhwach’s mass destruction had resulted in Aizen's home, the Muken, being destroyed after all.

Or now once again, Mr. Aizen.

The raven haired man grunted, exasperatedly yet solemnly itching his beard as he exhaled in frustration.

"Come on, Y/N. You know how short staffed we are right now, and after Yhwach's terror, you know that we need him."

Need.

You tsked at Shunsui's poor attempt at convincing you. "Short staffed? Goodness, I wonder where I've heard that before." You shot an unforgiving glance to one of the causes of the Society's reduction in force, his nonchalant attitude causing flames of detestation to ignite in your blood. The Captain sighed once again, advancing towards you and giving you a sincere glance.

"… You used to be such a sweet little girl."

Those words left a wound in your heart as he serenely strutted past you, placing a courteous pat on your back as he left you two alone.

"This is necessary. I hope you understand."

Where have I heard that before, I wonder.

The click of the office door sliding shut served as a reminder to the both of you that you were lamentably forced together, alone. You turned to glare into the eyes that were almost burning holes into the side of your face with the way they were fixated on you.

Aizen's grin only widened in response, causing yours to further deplete.

"My, I can almost feel myself bleeding at your gaze. Aren't we supposed to be familiars now?" He jests amicably, causing you to wince at his poor attempt of humour.

Aizen's deep, brooding sepia eyes seemed to refuse to hook off of you, your mind cursing Shunsui and his entire blood line for this unfortunate reunion. He propped a leg up onto his other, leaning back in his new desk chair and admiring the golden plate atop his desk that read out the characters of his name.

You tucked your arms into each other as you held them against your chest, giving an intense yet unimpressed gaze as you leaned your hip back into the wall of his new office.

"You're not here for long, don't get ahead of yourself."

What a pathetic, naïve man for thinking he could once again fool you.

Another snap of silence was abruptly broken by his upfront attitude.

"I noticed you did not bestow your presence upon me in the disputes of Karakura. Why was that?"

His sharp and stern tone stunned you as a stark difference from his previous complacency, and you felt humiliated to say the truth.

"... I was advised not to after you took hold of Orihime."

Aizen raised an eyebrow as you blatantly lied through your teeth. You were fervently opposed to admitting you were still too weak and had trained with Squad 0 rigorously to even try to match up to your previous pitiful altercation. He truly had no idea the amount of guilt you held for not being able to defeat him that night, and prevent all of his catastrophe from occurring.

"I see. I was looking forward to seeing how you had improved." He stated, softly grazing his fingers over the engraving of the shimmering nameplate. You only scoffed in response, chuckling at his remark as you looked away.

"I already gave you your chance to battle me back then, I guess."

He exhaled in exasperation at the strong grip you clearly still held onto your previous experiences. "It seems you're still latching onto the past, Y/N. I wonder what benefits you receive from such... obsession." Aizen persuaded, eyes locked onto yours regardless if you decided to return his gaze once again.

"Do not feel you have a right to speak on what part of my past affects me. You are simply a temporary employee and I intend to retain only a collegiate work relationship with you. Do not expect anything further as the only reason I am doing this is for the Soul Society's sake." You paused to inhale, muttering under your breath as you followed with a deep exhale.

"Clearly not something you are familiar with."

He stared up at you, unimpressed by your lecture and returning to a complacent manner once again. It bothered you greatly that you could not tell what he was thinking at all.

"Shall we get tea, Miss Shihoin?"

You sneered at his pitiful attempt to switch the topic to something lighter.

"Over my deceased, decaying body, Mr. Aizen." You gently remarked back, giving a slight grin in response to his imprudent question. Aizen's eyes depicted an oddly different expression this time in response to the nostalgic address you used with him.

Before he could bombard you any longer with that torturous voice of his, you left the room swiftly and without a word. You severely doubted you could take the slap in the face you felt hearing his voice after so long any longer. Yet you still decided to suck it up, refusing to let this tarnish your dignity and poise. You had to repeat a mantra in your head to prevent yourself from completely losing yourself.

This is only temporary.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

happy reading ! let me know your thoughts

sumi <3

#bleach #aizen x reader #sosuke aizen #bleach aizen #aizen #tybw spoilers #bleach tybw spoilers #enemies to lovers #eventual smut #eventual romance #office romance

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kvroomi · 1 month ago

Text

—4:53am

the road home stretched endlessly ahead as the three of you, (the moon, kita, and you) sat in the silent embrace of the night. winding through the dark countryside, there were no words spoken. the only light came from the truck’s headlights, catching the occasional glint of dew on the fields and fences that lined the way. the air inside the car was calm, filled only with the grumble of the engine and your slightly uneven breathing. stars were strewn infinitely across the night sky, their faint light spilling over your faces. whilst kita drove quietly beside you, his hands sure on the wheel and his profile serene in the glow of the dashboard—you sat in the passenger seat with your head resting against the cool glass of the window.

though right now was early sunday morning, it was late saturday night when you received the text from kita inviting you out for celebratory drinks with his friends. you were ecstatic at the opportunity to drink yourself free, and something in you had given way. you supposed it was a deep, guttural longing to let go; along with the fact that your mind had been swimming in a haze of lingering thoughts for the past couple of months, you desperately fiend for some alcohol. so later that night, surrounded by a group of enthusiastic and loud friends, you comfortably drank yourself away. it wasn’t enough to lose awareness entirely, but enough to feel unsteady.

often times, you didn’t know what to do with a best friend like kita shinsuke, whose stillness held entire conversations and whose presence could make the world feel smaller and more manageable. he was there, always. silent and steady, his presence as grounding as ever.

your first meeting with the man was quite mundane—void of any particular excitement and yet it lingered with you, etched into memory like the quiet beauty of a sunset you hadn’t expected to see.

it was a small town—the kind where everyone’s paths crossed eventually. you realised that pretty quickly when you received welcome gifts from half the town within the first week of you moving there, (safe to say you were incredibly well fed for the next week and a half).

before you’d ever met kita, he had been a mysterious enigma to you. having been close friends with his grandma after meeting at the local bakery, you’d think that also meant it was inevitable that the two of you would be introduced to one another. you quickly learned that kita was a busy man—that or he was actively avoiding you every time you were invited to visit the pair at home. you’d heard of him before, of course—how could you not? his name carried a subtle weight around town. people spoke of him with admiration like he was more rooted to the earth than most. he was reliable, dependable, and the kind of person who didn’t just talk about doing the right thing because he lived it.

when your first meeting came on a cold, misty morning at the local farmer’s market, you hadn’t even realised it was kita you had spoken to. you were struggling to balance a precarious stack of bags filled with fresh produce, a loaf of bread teetering dangerously on top. just as you’d resigned yourself to letting gravity win, a steady hand had reached out, catching the loaf mid-fall.

“you look like you’ve got your hands full,” a warm and calm voice chimed as a hand gently placed the bread back on top of your bags. startled, you looked up to find kind eyes watching you. later that day, you chalked it up to pretty privilege—because if it had been anyone else but kita, you probably would’ve snapped back with a sarcastic comment about how you had everything under control.

“thanks,” realising how intensely you had been staring, you quickly choked out some words to fill the silence. “i think i overestimated my carrying capacity.”

“i’m sure we’ve all done that a time or two,” you continued staring at him as he spoke, wide eyed as he smiled down at you with a casual softness you couldn’t quite understand. “want a hand?”

you’d hesitated—politeness warring with the undeniable relief of someone willing to help. however before you could answer, he’d simply taken a couple of bags from you, movements pure-intentioned and natural.

“it’s no trouble,” he interjected a second time, searching your face and finding the reluctance.

and that was kita—quietly stepping in when it mattered and never making a fuss about it.

from that day on, your paths seemed to cross more often. you’d exchange greetings at places like the market, on the quiet roads that wound through the countryside, and at local events where he always seemed to be lending a hand or silently ensuring things ran smoothly.

where conversations started out practical and polite—exchanging small talk about the weather, the state of the crops, or the best routes through the back roads; they had also deepened. you found yourself sharing pieces of your life with him in a way that felt natural, like pouring water into a cup that never overflowed.

kita listened; he didn’t just hear your words, he listened. his responses were thoughtful and measured as he carried each word you gave him carefully, treating it like something precious.

of course, he wasn’t the loudest presence in your life, but he quickly became the steadiest. eventually he had transformed into the one person you found yourself leaning toward the most without even realising it.

so as the days turned into weeks, the weeks in months, and the months into seasons—you began to wonder if maybe, he was leaning toward you too.

it was you who was first to speak the entire car ride home.

“you’re really interesting, shin.”

‘interesting’. what an understatement ‘interesting’ was. the word felt hollow and insulting in comparison to the fullness of what you meant. you don’t think you’ll ever find a way to articulate the quiet strength he carried, or the way he could exist completely in his own skin without trouble. even just the thought of it had left you unsteady in yours.

there was something magnetic about him, a pull that had grown stronger with every passing moment. yet you couldn’t bear to look at him now, afraid he might catch the way your thoughts spun so raw and unguarded when you were around him.

you watched the window instead, eyes trailing after the rain-dampened streets as they passed. the faint fog of your breath blurred the view on the glass, but it felt safer than meeting his gaze—safer than risking the tranquility between you breaking apart.

there was so much you wanted to say, words pressing against the edges of your throat. the steady cadence of his presence held you back and you decided that for now, it was easier to just sit beside him and let the air grow heavy with all the things you couldn’t name.

when you turn your head to look at him after a couple seconds too long of silence, you half expect a trace of teasing in his expression. it shocks you when there’s nothing except unadulterated patience as you lock eyes for a moment.

you continue, both frustrated and full of gratitude. “the way you do that thing where you just… are.”

by now, you’re sure it’s the alcohol talking.

“every single time, you always manage to stay so collected like you’ve got everything figured out! hell, i’m sitting here near tears because all i had were three drinks and sang awful karaoke.” your loud and exasperated voice turns into a slur of mumbles and grumbles by the end.

“i’d say you hold yourself together just fine,” kita replies simply, voice careful and deliberate.

“you’d be lying,” you shot back softly with a turn of your head. you watch the gravel road move with the car once more, overwhelmed.

“i don’t lie,” it’s all kita says, his hands still on the wheel.

three words that settled between you like a warm ember. it was true, kita never said anything he didn’t mean. you knew that truth about him the day you met. the fact was both comforting and unnerving, being seen so clearly by someone who didn’t look away.

when he pulled the truck up to your house, the hum of the engine cut out as he turned the key, making the silence in the air come quicker and sharper. the world outside was still—the stars breathed with the faint whisper of the breeze against the trees.

kita stepped out and rounded the truck, opening your door before you could fumble with the handle. the moon was high, casting a silvery glow over the isolated farm road as he helped you out of the car. his grip was sturdy though gentle on your arm, steadying you as you wobbled,

“careful,” he whispered, arm brushing against yours as he guided you toward the porch. the touch of your skin against his was accidental, yet it burned him like it wasn’t. his steps faltered, just for a second as if the air itself had thickened.

he could feel the tension in his own muscles and chest, unsure what to do with it. when your shoulder brushed his again, this time for a little longer, he almost passed out with how quickly his pulse started to race. the adrenaline of knowing he was too close to something fragile made him yearn to pull you in and to close the gap that had been silently growing between you for what felt like eternities.

the night was cold, the air crisp and cool. you paused and reached for the door as he stood behind you patiently. you moved to grab your keys from your bag but paused abruptly to ponder for a quiet moment. you let your eyes wander over the grooves in the wood, tracing every line and discolouration until you couldn’t hold back the sheer embarrassment and shame that consumed you. “you could’ve just gone home, you know.”

“i know,” you didn’t want to turn to face him.

even though you weren’t looking at kita, he was looking at you. there was no pity in his words, neither judgment—just that steady understanding that always seemed to strip you bare. it felt dangerous; vulnerability was never common with you.

“you’re always here though—and you’re always so kind about it, even when you don’t have to be.”

it was a never ending dance with the two of you: one step forward and one step back, incapable of ever meeting in the middle. these days, you found yourself burdened with the prospect of what could be, anxious with the realisation that crossing that line meant giving a voice to the unspoken rhythm between you—a rhythm that neither of you had been brave enough to call a song.

kita frowned, a deep, harsh line forming between his eyebrows, confused by your sudden honesty. you turned and watched as his gaze started immediately searching yours.

“because i care about you.” it was said simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

a laugh choked up before you could stop it. “you’re too kind shin—you make the rest of us look bad.”

despite how confused kita was with your aggressive praises, he huffed a soft laugh and shook his head. “i don’t know about that.”

“no, really,” you insisted, leaning closer. “it’s like you’ve never been afraid of anything in your life.”

kita didn’t respond right away.

instead, he let his gaze linger on you, caught in the way the stars seemed to rest against your skin. the faint glow softened every edge, highlighting the curve of your cheek, the curve of your lips. some day, he’d tell you how he believed the stars themselves weren’t the ones shining, they were borrowing their light from you that night. there was something achingly still about the way you stood there, the night folding around you like it had been waiting for you to step into it—you belonged to it more than anything else.

“you say that like it’s somethin’ bad,” was all he could mutter, afraid he’d crack and talk of the beauty you emanated in this moment.

“Ii’s not fair,” you repeated, voice cracking slightly. “i can’t keep pretending.” you throw you hands up, groaning loudly before dragging them down your face agonisingly. there’s a frog in your throat desperately trying to claw its way out.

“pretending what?”

you could barely swallow, your throat tight and coarse. the alcohol buzzed in your blood, blurring the edges of your self-restraint. “pretending that i don’t… feel the way i do. that i haven’t been trying not to look at you like this for months.”

the words hung between you, heavy like the air before a storm. you didn’t dare look away from him even as your heart thudded painfully against your ribs.

if kita was surprised, he didn’t show it. instead, he stepped just a little closer, his warmth becoming a pillar in the night that pulled you in unconsciously. “you don’t have to pretend, y’know.”

“don’t i?” your voice was barely above a whisper. “what if i say something i can’t take back?”

“then you say it,” his voice came secure and confident, an anchor that came with everything that he spoke. “and we figure it out from there.”

when you searched his face for any sign of hesitation, all you found was attentiveness so gentle and endless, a parallel to the stars that settled above you. “you make it sound so simple.”

“maybe it is,” he said. “maybe it’s just us makin’ it complicated.”

the words stirred something in you—an ache and a yearning you’d been pushing down for so long that it almost hurt to let breathe. you looked away, your fingers curling loosely against the metal of the door handle. “i think i’ve been in love with you for a while, shin,” you admitted softly, the words slipping out like a confession to the night itself.

kita was silent for a long moment, long enough that you forced yourself to look back at him, bracing for whatever came next.

“i’ve known,” you were drunk. kita knew that. he knew that whatever happened tonight was going to change the trajectory of your entire relationship onwards. his voice was soft but unshakable as he continued, “or at least, i’ve hoped.”

you blinked and you felt your breath catch in your lungs when you turned to look at him for clarity. “what do you mean?”

the space between you felt impossibly small now, charged with something that felt both delicate and infinite.

“you’re smart, you’ll figure it out.”

more than anything in the world right now, kita wanted to do but be close to you. but you were drunk, and he knew that after months of pining for you, it was only fair he let you hear his confession sober. “right now, you need to get some rest,” he announced softly. “and tomorrow, when you’re feelin’ clearer, we talk about this properly. because if i’m gonna do this with you, i’m gonna do it right.”

a faint, shaky laugh escaped you as you looked away, suddenly self conscious about your giddiness. “you’re impossible.”

“maybe,” he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips.

the comfort of his words settled over you like a blanket, wrapping around all the spaces that had felt raw and uncertain just moments before. “so i’ll see you tomorrow?” the question was innocent, laced with your faint smile as you asked.

he mirrored the curve of your eyes with his own for a moment longer, his excitement unwavering. “i’ll see you tomorrow.” he replied back in affirmation with a nod of his head.

and, with that same quiet patience he stepped back, giving you the space you needed. “goodnight, y/n.” the absence of his warmth left you with a deep hole that you desperately craved to fill. but despite the yearning that followed, you accepted it with open arms, a knowing feeling that tomorrow would bring a new kind of intimacy.

“goodnight, shin,” you whispered reluctantly, turning to enter your house.

you felt the pressure of kita’s eyes disappearing as he watched as the door closed softly behind you. you sank onto the couch, your heart still racing. the confession still hung in the air, fragile but real, like the first light of morning just barely breaking over the horizon.

and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t holding the weight of it alone.

#haikyuu #haikyuu masterlist #fanfiction #haikyu #kita shinsuke #kita #kita shinsuke x reader #kita haikyuu #kita shinsuke haikyuu #kita x reader #kita fluff #kita x you #kita shinsuke fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyu kita #inarizaki #inarizaki x reader

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desperatemeasures-if · 2 years ago

Text

✶ DEMO (TBA) ✶

It's always the picture-perfect days that end the shittiest...

You had finally been having a good day after a horrible week-- nice weather, good company, and you got your manager off your ass-- but you should have known that was only the calm before the storm. A storm that completely rips apart not only your life but that of your family-- not the ones related by blood, you had given up on them long ago, but the people that had taken you in and given you a home. The Vipers, the most reputable gang in the Northside of Riverwood, and the only family you had left.

The boss is dead... We have no leads.

A single message had completely turned your life on its head. The man that had singlehandedly saved you from yourself, from ending up face down in a gutter, was dead. You don't hesitate in volunteering to help hunt down his killer-- not if it meant protecting your family and avenging his death. Even if it means calling on your biggest rivals for help or getting assisted by an over-eager detective.

Desperate times called for desperate measures...

Desperate Measures is rated 18+ for explicit language, sexual themes, drug and alcohol use, violence, intense interrogations, blood, questionable behavior, and more.

✶ Features ✶ Character Intros (WIP) ✶

Customize your MC: appearance, parts of your personality, segments of your background, hobbies, vices, and more! Do you have what it takes to avenge the death of your mentor? Do you have a nickname that's specific to the Vipers?

While you're investigating make sure you maintain contact with your gang, and don't forget that you have a job. Even if it is just at a shitty cafe.

Romance is definitely something that is offered and will bring insightful moments to characters that may otherwise remain an enigma to you. Or, of course, you can strike up a friendship with them!

Find a killer and either take justice into your own hands, allow someone else to do it, or follow the law!

✶ The ROs ✶

Heather Grant ✶ She/Her ✶ 29 ✶

The Heiress of Riverwood Royalty, the Grant Family, and one of the only people that could offer assistance with the investigation-- with her limitless amount of resources and the fact that the Grant Family seemed to own all of Riverwood. The only problem? She absolutely hates the Vipers. Will you be able to come to some sort of middle ground?

Special Aspects: Enemies-to-Lovers, but will you be able even to blame her for her hatred in the end?

Damien Frost ✶ He/Him ✶ 29 ✶

A recently promoted detective within the RPD. A man that's been assigned the case, either out of pity or malevolence, you aren't quite sure, but Detective Frost isn't one to give up, even when all the odds seem to be stacked against him. In fact, he seems to have a penchant to appear wherever you are, and he doesn't seem to mind at all that he's working alongside criminals. He simply wants to get the crime solved. Is it only because he wishes to prove himself? Or is it something more?

Special Aspects: Law Enforcement Officer with a Gangster... Need I say more?

Stephen/Stephanie Matthews ✶ He/Him or She/Her ✶ 27 ✶

Stephen/Stephanie, or simply Stevie, is someone you know you can count on no matter what. They'd as easily offer you their last beer as they would knife someone in the gut to protect you. Your best friend since you joined the Vipers, being the one that had trained you after your initiation, it's no surprise that they join you on the hunt for the killer.

Special Aspects: Best Friends to Lovers

Gabriel/Gabriella DeLuca ✶ He/Him or She/Her ✶ 28 ✶

The other half of your motley crew within the Vipers. Gabby is known for a multitude of things within the Northside, being a jack of all trades when it comes to their skills, but their true trademark is the sea of broken hearts they've left in their wake. With a disarming smile and devil-may-care attitude, it isn't hard to understand how someone could be pulled into their axis. It's just escaping it unscathed that's the challenge.

Special Aspects: Have the option to be friends with benefits, or simply friends, and see how that could influence the possible romance to come.

Leon/Lena Prince ✶ He/Him or She/Her ✶ 28 ✶

The one person you wouldn't wish to run into within Riverwood-- having completely destroyed your relationship with them; possibly breaking their heart in the process. You haven't heard much about them since you left the Southside, but learning about them taking over the rival gang of the Vipers? Your week just couldn't get any better, could it?

Special Aspects: Exes-to-Rivals-to-Friends-to-Lovers (once more). Will you be able to build back the trust you lost?

#desperate measures #interactive fiction #interactive game #choice script #cog game #hosted game #dashingdon #if wip #no demo

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grandlinedreams · 1 year ago

Note

Uwahhh you write law so perfectly!! You’re writing is *chefs kiss* 💞💞 the amount of comfort that radiates from the way you write this nerdy emo doctor …. I die Everytime !!

If I may request- you don’t have to do it!! But- how would law react to a reader that’s easily jumpy, a little over emotional… but is super unfazed by gore/horror? Like they would be one of the wholesome sweetest persons on the crew, practically clings onto Bepo everyday- but will watch law go nuts with his DF powers and they’re super fascinated?? He holds an organ, a heart, in the palm of his hand? They will watch!! Plays around with his medical tools in his lab? Suddenly screams at a small bug sighted?? Law is confused… but kinda curious too

UWAH I’m rambling but I wish you the best of days today 💞💞 thank you and stay awesome !!

Whdhdhs please don't die but also thank-you!! And woeodjdjd i hope I can do this justice!!

[Heads up!: mention of insects/arachnids, mention of the Rocky Port incident, but otherwise fluff!]

There's something crawling up the back of your neck. Thread thin legs splayed across your skin, the creep of movement making you freeze, chill traveling down your spine as you bite back a whimper.

"Hold still."

Fingers graze your skin, curling ㅡ and then Law is pulling the culprit away from you and tossing the insect into the plush grass nearby.

"Thank-you," you say, audible relief in your tone even as you sweep your own hand against your neck and then over your hair, a wave of self-conscious paranoia sweeping over you. Once your check for more creepy-crawlies comes up empty, you relax.

Law watches you, gaze following as you pull ahead of him, apparently now unbothered by your momentary ordeal for the way a smile tugs at your lips and you hum.

You're an enigma to Law. He likes to think that he has something of a talent for figuring people out especially the longer he's around them, but it's been the better part of a year since you joined and Law is no closer to understanding you.

There's your fear of bugs and other multi legged creatures, which Law understands even if he thinks it a little dramatic for a pirate to be reduced to tears over something so insignificant as a spider.

Speaking of tears, you'd cried just the other day ㅡ over a book, no less. He hadn't been able to understand a word you were hiccuping into Bepo's fur, only that the mink was doing his best to comfort you as you sobbed.

"[Name]," Law tries, resting his hand on your head tentatively, "it's just a book. Being upset about something as trivial as thatㅡ"

"It isn't trivial," you wail into Bepo's fur, "I've spent six books getting to know these characters and now they're dead!"

Inwardly, Law can't blame you. He's found himself emotional several times over Sora Warrior of the Sea comics, but the fact that you're clinging to Bepo trumps that empathy for reasons he doesn't want to analyze just yet.

And then as if to throw him for another loop, there'd been the entirety of his stunt at Rocky Port ㅡ given your outbursts with other things, he'd thought you would regard him with horror and disgust the way others did. He is the Surgeon of Death for a reason, after all.

But you don't.

You don't bat an eye at the dozens upon dozens of little blue cubes, each containing a living, beating heart. At one point you pick one up, watching it pulse in a steady rhythm.

"Huh," you say, "so that's what it really looks like?" The reverence with which you both talk and looked at the heart almost makes him uncomfortable.

"Captain," you say, pulling him out of his thoughts as you fall back into step beside him, "I was wondering if I could stop at that bookshop we saw earlier before we leave."

"Maybe," he answers. "That depends. Are you going to cry to Bepo again when something happens?"

"That was one time, forever ago."

"That was last week, [Name]. His fur was soaked for hours." There's something akin to amusement and fondness for how you blush at his teasing, pride in being able to get under your skin.

There's a lot about you that Law doesn't quite understand ㅡ at least, not yet. And truthfully, he doesn't mind when it means he gets to find out.

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #ㅡanswered.#anonymous #–ml: law.

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pprodsuga · 7 months ago

Note

dont rlly have a specific request but Jay . anything jay Pls . 😁

for my darling nic—jay loves you but not as much as i do

note: if this seems at all familiar, it’s because i took inspiration from a blog i previously had and reworked it. :)

***

Jay is an enigma that you can’t seem to figure out.

He’s best friends with your roommate, who is far too eager to pull you out of your bedroom on a Saturday night to meet up with your mutual friends at the local waterhole. It’s a staple bar that’s heavy on the weekend rotation despite having seen evidence of having one too many drinks to the point where you both refuse to get out of bed unless you crawl.

Jake convinces you to put on ‘real clothes’ (in the form of throwing a dress that is short enough to combat the warmer summer nights with a neckline just low enough to show enough cleavage to score free drinks from the bartender) by way of throwing it onto your lap as you stare at your TV screen from the couch.

You two are the last to arrive. Heeseung makes room for you and fetches an extra stool. Sunghoon holds your purse while Jake offers to accompany you to the bar and order a drink or two to catch up with the rest of the guys.

Jay, however, has barely given you the time of day and you’re starting to wonder if you’ve been reading things wrong.

You aren’t sure when this thing started exactly. You’ve been the quiet type who tends to have the most fun when you’re with people you know, although Jake has coaxed you out of your shell since befriending you in college, which leads you to the president day with his friend group that had adopted you as one of their own. Jay’s the same, too, quiet by nature until you get to know him. Part of you thinks it’s why you like him so much. You have to do the work in order to get to know him and dig far deeper beneath the surface to understand him.

Jay comes over semi-regularly. You were too timid to spend time in the living room while he and Jake played video games on the couch, shouting at each other while you’d sit in the kitchen and scroll through your phone until boredom hit. It felt too awkward to be in the same room as someone you barely knew, the wandering glances and polite ‘excuse me’s’ too awkward for you to handle.

It wasn’t until both you and Jake fell ill from the typical flu season that Jay stepped up to the plate and showed you another side of him you hadn’t seen before. Coming over to take care of his best friend and someone he barely knew warmed your heart, along with the homemade soup he delivered to your apartment every day until the two of you recovered.

You’re like a shy cat who’s coaxed out of your bubble every time Jay comes around.

Little by little, you stay in the living room for a longer period of time when Jay comes over. He throws a haphazard smile your way before asking about your week and other mundane questions to keep the conversation flowing. You don’t shy away and force yourself to ask him the same questions too, and find that his laugh is melodic. You wouldn’t mind hearing it more often.

You start to open the door for Jay when he knocks. He starts to text you instead of Jake when he’s arrived at your doorstep. You become relaxed around him unlike the stiff, cardboard cutout-like person you were when you first met him. Jake is beyond thrilled when he realizes that the two of you are getting along and that you’ve taken it upon yourself to join them on the couch when they’re spending time together.

You think Jay might like you back because he stays up texting you throughout all hours of the night when, really, he should be sleeping to wake up for an early day at his job. He comes over when you ask him to, leaving Jake a bit perplexed to find him already in the apartment when he comes home from the gym. Jay even dedicates some time into looking up restaurants he’d think you’d like and takes it a step further by asking you to accompany him without any of the other guys around.

It feels comfortable and safe, the way Jay started to get to know you. It feels even more rewarding when you start to understand just who he is as a person beyond his exterior. But despite all of this back and forth, you feel stuck in a will-they-won’t-they situation because Jay will pay for your meals and wait for you to enter your apartment before driving away, but hasn’t done anything beyond that.

Moreover, Jay doesn’t realize that women find him attractive, but you do.

You notice it when women perform double takes on the sidewalk and stare at him far too long for your liking. You see it when waitresses and cashiers think of anything and everything to say to him as he’s paying, reluctantly letting him go once he gives them a nod and a thanks.

Jay never picks up on these advances and it hurts you when he smiles back at them and entertains their banter for a minute or two. He leaves room for something more with just about everyone he speaks with even if he doesn’t realize it, and it kills you.

Tonight is no exception.

You’ve returned from the bar with Jake, who tells you to cover the next time you get coffee to pay him back for tonight’s drinks. You’re barely able to register that a very attractive woman has approached Jay as he returned from the bathroom when you sit down at the seat Heeseung saved for you.

She compliments his cologne and tells him how good he smells, inviting herself closer to his body and telling him this like it’s a secret she wants him and only him to know. She squeezes his bicep and bites her lip when he politely thanks her, and you notice Jay doesn’t move from her grasp.

The woman compliments his hair, his smile, and every physical feature she can visible see to coax Jay into staying with her for the night. It’s too much to witness, especially when you see her shove her phone in his hands so that he could type his phone number.

You’ve barely touched your drink when you tell your friends you need some air.

You’re grateful no one follows you outside, although you’re sure Jake might’ve taken a peek to see where you are to ensure that you’re in a place he can see at all times. The weather has cooled down significantly and you’re starting to regret not bringing a light jacket.

The door beside you opens. You don’t have to look to see that Jay followed you outside.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You nod once, looking ahead of you. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just needed some air.”

“You look a little cold.”

You hate that you can hear the concern laced in his words.

“I’m fine. Thanks, though.”

Jay shakes his head and removed his jacket, offering it to you.”

“Here, take mine. I don’t want you to get sick.”

You shake your head.

“I’m fine. It’s not even that cold anyway.”

You feel his stare at your bare arms, which are no doubt littered in goosebumps. Still, your stubborn nature refuses to give in.

Jay sighs. “Please, Y/N? If not, I think you should come inside. The guys are wondering where you are.” I’m wondering where you went.

You take the jacket from his hand and drape it over your shoulders. Jay would’ve preferred if you put your arms through and wore it properly, but he supposed he can’t be too picky when you’re being like this.

When you don’t say anything, Jay takes it upon himself to move beside you and learn on the wall you’re occupying.

“Are you okay? You’ve been out here for quite some time.”

“I’m okay. It was getting hot inside.”

Jake bites his cheek but doesn’t say anything, even if he knows you’re lying.

“Yeah, it can get pretty warm in there. Loud, too.”

You barely nod. Jay looks at the floor before looking back ahead of him.

“Did you get the air you needed?”

Hesitantly, you shake your head. “No.”

“Well, can I do anything to help?”

His question makes you whip your head in his direction and you feel as though you must look silly with the way your eyes are glazed over and how your lips start to tremble. Jay’s eyes widen in shock at how you’re looking at him. He wants to hold your hand and comfort you until your eyes aren’t watering anymore.

“I think we should stop doing whatever this is.” He watches as your finger gestures between the two of you.

“W-What?”

“We’ve had our fun, don’t you think? It’s probably time for us to stop pretending that this will go anywhere.”

Jay panics. “Why are you saying this?”

You huff out a humorless laugh. “I just watched you type your phone number for a girl before coming out here, Jay. Any hope that you and I could be anything other than ‘just friends’ went down the drain. Women are always throwing themselves at you and you entertain them when we’re together. I like you so much to the point where I can’t sleep at night because I always want to talk to you, but then you go ahead and put your phone number into some random woman’s cell. It hurts my feelings, Jay.”

He shakes his head rapidly, his palms sweating despite the cold air. Jay pushes himself off the wall to face you with an expression of sheer panic.

“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong. Please just listen. I didn’t give her my number and the whole time I was wishing I could muster up the courage to tell her to fuck off.” He laughs to himself. “That’s such a shit-sounding excuse but I’m terrible when it comes to rejection and telling people no. I move on autopilot and I don’t know how to do anything except for being polite and hoping they take the hint. It feels like I’m letting people down if I don’t at least acknowledge them.

“The truth is, I like you a lot. Too much, probably. I think about you all the time and I force myself not to text you my every thought because I’m afraid that I’ll scare you away. I don’t want that woman that came up to me, or anybody who isn’t you. I just want you and I’m sorry that it seems like I don’t.”

Your face warms up at his confession and it feels like your heart is stuck in your throat. Jay’s affection rekindles something within you and it’s almost as if you’ve forgotten why you were upset in the first place.

“You’re not going to say anything?” he croaks.

You throw caution into the wind and kiss him.

He feels your palms pressed against his chest as you lurch your body forward in an attempt to be as close to him as possible. Your lips move in tandem with his and Jay brings his hand to hold the back of your neck in a gentle grasp while his other rests upon your waist to keep you in front of him like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he doesn’t.

When you pull away, you look at him and Jay presses a kiss to your forehead as he puts his hand in your own. He leads you back into the bar and secures his jacket on your shoulders without letting you go.

When the two of you are back inside of the bar and standing in front of your friends with a knowing glint in their eyes, Jay doesn’t hesitate to kiss you in front of them either.

***

taglist: @enha-stars @karinasbaby @baevsxii @lillotus17 @syzavxy @mrmld @nikilvrfvr @luvyev @notevenheretbh1 @wvnkoi @seungiesgf @kgneptun @judeduartewannabe @iheartjayke @wonsbubble @ilyjxdz @foggysfrog @oddracha @haechansbbg @tobiosbbyghorl @ryunjin0 @sharksandminhos @jungwoneez @alex-is-sleeping @minjaexvz @woninluv @engeneeee-168 @friendlyuser57 @moony-mari @trdhgg @sleepyhoon @sunghoonsgfreal @i02hoonz @riksaes @021894s @zeeloveshee @jwnghyuns @vhuteryh @cloudiesblog @awsome209 @fleurixzs @xiaoderrrr @marshwatz @aeripark0703 @bambangan @papichulomacy @heartheejake @thatsroug @coffeeprincejaehyun @Riraives @princessarmy14807 @olivehues-blog @emma2black .

sorry to all tumblr wouldn't tag!

#park jongseong x reader #park jay x reader #enhypen x reader #park jongseong fluff #ask #nic #<33333333 #for u #love u my nic!!!#my writing

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ddreamywitch · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter Five - No Plan

knight!Benjicot x princess!reader

word count: 3k

a/n: do you guys enjoy reading from benji’s perspective?

song: No Plan - Hozier

You won’t look at him.

It’s quite seriously driving him insane.

He knows he’s overstepped, broken his oath in some ways even.

He is sworn to you, of course, to serve and protect nobody but you, but he is part of a system, a machinery of knights and guards, who, at all cost, must report back to the king.

He wasn’t ever going to snitch on you. But maybe he should have put his foot down.

Were any of the happenings of the past few weeks to come to light, he is almost certain that he will lose his head for it. Or they’d find some other creative way to rid themselves of him.

Had he been stricter upon finding out about your meddling in the arts of healing, perhaps you had never gathered the guts to sneak out by yourself, you’d have never found yourself in the hands of some lowlife scumbag and he wouldn’t know how well you fit into his arm curled around your back.

Then you might still be speaking to him.

Well, you had spoken to him. An hour into your carriage ride you had leaned out the window to tell him to have Fury saddled, already tired of being confined.

Throughout everything, he kept feeling an overwhelmingly deep rooted sense of pity.

He gazes up at the sky, grey clouds gathered above, knit together so tight you couldn’t see the blue hiding behind.

He doesn’t remember the last time he had pitied somebody so much.

Of course, he felt bad for the impoverished, the sick, the depraved. But this was almost sickening; his stomach twisting in uncomfortable ways, each time he thought about your fate.

A girl like you is rare to come by in the place you had grown up in. He does not understand how you could even exist, an enigma, given the people you had been around your life. Though your sister and brother were respectable for the most part, there was something innately warm about you.

As he contemplates he almost resents you again, like he had in the beginning of his knighthood.

How could you be so good?

It is frustrating really, to be around you and watch the way people bend to fit around you, to feel your presence and grasp your attention.

At first he had assumed it to be your status, that got everyone so riled up, but he understood rather soon that, that isn’t the case.

People tried to approach Prince Tristan and Queen Cordelia as well, but around you it seems to be something more honest.

He thinks about your handmaiden and you, the way the two of you giggle each time you are together, the way the cook without request organises your favourite pastries for you.

For fuck’s sake even young children and animals were drawn to you like a moth to the light, despite not having the slightest comprehension of who you are and what importance you held.

Your dumb horse damn near tries to kill anyone that nears it besides you.

It is ridiculous really.

Yes, ridiculous.

He doesn’t understand it.

From now on he would not fall for this anymore.

Benji is a strong soldier. He’s killed. He’s hurt. He’s bled. He would not fall for something as silly as that girlish charm you had. One might think you are actually a witch, with the way you mesmerised the people.

He glances at you in front of him, back straight as a board. There’s a shiver to your unnatural posture.

“Your highness?”, he calls out and he almost can’t believe his own hypocrisy.

“Yes, Ser Benjicot?” You don’t turn around to face him, so he forces his horse alongside yours.

Suddenly he feels silly, back to being a young boy. Or a dog that can’t help but return to its owner. “Are you cold, princess?”

You don’t even spare a second to look at him. “I am quite alright, do not fret.” You’re cold. Closer now, he can see the goosebumps that trail your arms through the translucent fabric of your sleeves.

You’re almost dressed for a funeral, your gown a deep shade of purple.

The king had frowned at you that morning, Benji had seen the way his thick brows had pulled together, lips pulled into something reminiscent of a pout.

He himself was more so wondering how you had managed to get on your horse with the ten thousand layers of tulle and frilliness you were heaving around.

“Do you not wish for a cloak? If you were to get sick you would need to return to travel by carriage,” Benji finds himself warning you.

That does trigger a reaction in you; a deep sigh. “Fine then,” you mumble.

Benji doesn’t like this. He can’t help but feel responsible, the events of last night must be heavy on your mind.

It was all confusing and annoying to him. Nobody had told you to leave the castle, least of all him, but still he faults himself for not having been there sooner.

You had your troubles but you had never been confronted with men who’s inappropriate fantasies aren’t confined by the code of conduct at court.

It doesn’t take long for somebody to appear with your cloak.

With all the fabric it almost looks as though your horse is the one wearing the clothes.

For a few more wholly uncomfortable moments of silence Benji trots along your side, until he decides that it’s likely best to give you time.

Your journey goes on until shortly before sunset. There are still two days worth of travel ahead of you and so one of the guards rides ahead into town and organises a stay for the night.

Benji could see the exhaustion in your face as you’re helped off your horse, wincing and stretching without much decorum.

The servant who helped you looks away in uncertainty. His cheeks are flushed. Benji wants to roll his eyes.

The inn is surprisingly nice; one of the two kingsguard members with you informs him that it is because a lot of merchants pass through this town when travelling to the capital.

You are smiling at everyone, saccharine sweet and Benji wished he didn’t notice the way you are twisting the ring on your finger nervously.

As it seems, spending almost every single waking moment with you for the last cycle of the moon, does take its toll.

Without much ceremony you leave supper early and excuse yourself to your bedroom, your new handmaiden close behind.

She’s a nervous little thing, a mouse-like girl, much younger than Marion and entirely overwhelmed by your presence it seems.

Benji hasn’t heard her say anything yet that wasn’t some variation of an apology.

It is terrifying to be responsible for a princess.

He should know.

He takes a gulp from the beer in front of him.

Ser Corrigan taps his fingers against the table, only remotely in sync with the fiddler in the corner of the room.

“D’you think she’ll be well with that Baron?,” he pipes up.

Benji doesn’t register that he’s being spoken to for a few moments.

“Don’t know. But if he takes after his sister, I should have serious doubts that they will get along,” he answers.

Corrigan nods to himself.

The fiddler plays an old ballad, one of a kind queen long dead, the fire crackles in the room and the night crawls on.

Benji is not on watch duty, so he allows himself more of the not-good-yet-not-bad beer they serve here before he heads upstairs as well.

It is long past midnight by now and it suddenly strikes him that he should have spoken with Ser Corrigan.

He has no friends here.

His room is at the highest floor of the building, guards stood at the top of the stairs.

You are right across from him. The only two people that are to sleep here.

His eyes linger on your door and his fingers itch to knock and ask about your wellbeing but he doesn’t.

He cannot find rest. Of course not.

The last few weeks catch up with him, ghosts that had constantly been in his periphery and have finally clawed their way into his mind.

His uncle sending him away.

The isolation inside the castle.

You.

He tosses and turns, yearning for comfort.

He won’t find it in here and so he decides perhaps fresh air might help him.

He slips out of his room and realises he isn’t wearing his boots.

Then he hears it.

Distant, through the thick of the oak door, he hears your sobs.

He knows he can’t ignore it, even though he lingers for a moment.

He throws one glance at the guards at the end of the hallway, neither of them having noticed him.

Benji steps as lightly as he can across the wooden floor and without so much as the thought of a squeak he slips into your bedroom.

Your eyes are swollen and bloodshot when you look at him, mouth dropped into surprised ‘O’.

Neither you nor him speak until you do at the same time.

“Are you–”, Benji asks.

“I didn’t mean to-” you interrupt.

Silence again. Benji waves his hand for you to go first.

“I didn’t mean to be loud,” you whisper. “I couldn’t sleep.”

He hums in agreement. “Neither could I.” He leans against the door. “And you weren’t loud.”

You’re sitting at the foot of the bed, your hair and robe both somewhat disorderly. “My apologies. For scaring you last night.”

His arms cross and uncross again when he thinks that he might intimidate you like that. “Don’t worry.”

“Benji?”

The name sounds so different when you say it. It rolls off your tongue like river-tumbled pebbles through a creek. A sweet and calming sound.

“Yes, princess?”

Your cheeks are reddened again. “Perhaps you could keep me company? I don’t sleep well outside my own room.”

You look so young like this, he thinks to himself. A vulnerable doe-eyed girl. To be married soon.

What was to happen to you, with your unbelievable innocence? That you should invite a man into your chambers after last night, is more than naive.

He remains where he stands.

“Please?”

How can he refuse you?

You shuffle to sit with your back to the wall, beckoning him to take a seat next to you and he complies.

He struggles to comprehend his innate urge to be useful to you.

“Do you think I’ll find some common ground with him?”, you ask.

Benji sighs. “I’ve not met somebody who doesn’t like you since coming to the capital.”

“You didn’t like me.” You prod at him with one accusing finger.

Your shoulders almost brush when you’re sitting like this, the tiniest sliver of space between them. It feels tantalising.

“That’s an exaggeration. I was merely…,” he trails off. What was he? What is he now?

He watches you shrug. “I do not blame you. It seems I am in a much similar position now. Sent away to a place far from home to spend my days with someone I do not know”

“I told you that there’ll be a way to find some arrangement,” he reminds you. “Mayhaps he’ll not even want you after all.”

You snort. “Did you not just claim the opposite?”

“Well yes, but you know at first glance, perhaps he’ll think you’re too much of a troll.” This is something that once again could cost him his tongue if you were ever to snitch on him, but for now you laugh quietly to yourself.

“Were you always so rude? I’m sure your mother didn’t raise you to talk to ladies like this.”

He looks down at his hands, the scars, the rough parts of it. Yesterday evening on the way home he held yours in them and then after you had clicked his nose back into place, such a gruesome and nasty act from your delicate nimble fingers.

He wonders what his mother would think of you.

“Firstly, you are still a witch and not a lady. And no, she didn’t.”

You know, of course, that his mother, much like your own, is six feet under, engulfed by cold wet soil. You know every noble house in the land. Perhaps you know his own house's history better than he does.

You twist to look at him. “What was your mother like? Your parents?” Then you realise the forthrightness of your words and stutter a bit. “I mean- if you should want to tell me.”

He shrugs. “It matters not. We are bound either way.”

That stirs you the wrong way. “I do not want you to do everything just because you feel you must. I told you so.”

Benji chuckles. “You did not. You told me to be civil or be silent, otherwise you’d order me executed.”

Your back straightens. “I was of course not being earnest, Benjicot.” Red spots dot your neck and cheeks, borderline outraged.

“How was I to know? You got so serious on that beach, you little witch, who knows what potion you could mix into my breakfast.”

He had of course not feared for his life. Just his ego.

Benji clears his throat. “My mother was very headstrong. She knew her place in the world and she knew what to do with what she had. She kept my father on his toes. I don’t know if they were a love match but they had their own dynamic. They were most certainly friends.”

You’re smiling a bit now and decide to lean against the headboard again, feet shuffling beneath the blanket.

“She was a bit like your sister, I suppose. They both have a certain quality about them. I think. The memory blurs with each day.”

“Cordelia likes you, I believe. She is quite selective with who she deems respectable.”

“She’s a bit scary.”

You slap his upper arm, your hand lingering there a moment longer than needed. His shirt is made from much less soft fabric than your chemise is and he wonders what you would think about that.

“She isn’t scary, she has been through a lot.”

“Your family seems a bit fucked,” he says before he can stop himself. Blood rushes to his cheeks. “Uh- Pardon me, I-”

But you laugh. Loud and clear and Benji wants to remind you of the guards outside but he can’t bring himself to.

Better to see you laugh, even if your cheeks are still puffy from tears shed prior.

“No we are. We are. Maybe if our mother had been with us longer, we might have turned out differently. But Cordelia and Tristan aren’t so bad.”

“Neither are you. It really just is the king that’s making problems.” His head drops a bit. “If anything I’m fucked.”

You tug at his sleeve. “I think you’re alright.”

“I am a liability, you said it yourself. And I did terrible as the head of my house.”

“Yes, because you were a child when your father passed. It was right after your eleventh name day, was it not?”

Benji shrugs. He had failed either way and after three short years, everyone had campaigned for his uncle to take the reins until Benji was of age. And then by the time he was, he didn’t care for it, preferring battle and combat to the rigid authority. And now he is here. In your bed.

“Let’s not dwell on it.”

Your hair is so close. He doesn’t understand how you could always smell so wonderful, even after a day’s worth of travelling. Especially with the heavy layers you wear.

This also bothers him.

It seems everything about you is equally fascinating and bothersome to him.

“Tell me about your home. I’ve rarely travelled to the Riverlands, my father does not enjoy the weather there.”

He bites back the comment about how your father likely doesn’t appreciate the weather because he is too prissy to be rained on.

“It’s wonderful. It’s green as far as the eye can see. I suppose you would enjoy riding your horse there.”

“Tell me something interesting. I know what the land looks like. I want to know what you did there. I want to know what your life was before this. Perhaps I can restore some of it. Maybe even bring your old lover to court.”

You had tried to said it carelessly but the way you stumbled over the word lover gave you away.

He ignores it. “I do not have a girl waiting for me. Matter of fact, I think they’re all glad I’m gone.”

You scoff. “What? What were you doing, you rake.”

He laughs lowly, feels it rumble deep within his chest. “That is not a topic I wish to discuss with someone of your sort.”

“What, a woman? You imbecile, just because-,” you start and he doesn’t need to look this time, he’s certain that the red spots are back on your skin.

Benji cuts you off before you get mad enough to have them spread all over. “No, not a woman. A princess of the realm. The realm’s delight, even. I will not be the one to spoil you, I’m sure Marion already did enough damage.”

“I’m not a child,” you huff. “I’ll be wed sooner than later as it seems, I’ll know either way.”

He shrugs and as he does he suddenly realises your head was resting against his shoulder. Immediately he regrets the movement, tries to bend in a way to return you to your previous position. You fit back perfectly, all the while you’re suppressing a vaguely impolite yawn.

“I won’t do it either way. And I won’t tell you the tales of Bloody Ben either, if that’s what you’re looking for,” he explains. “You were shocked enough by the events in the alley, I do not want your head filled with gruesome images of violent men.”

Your eyelids are drooping. “My god Benjicot, will you just tell a story,” you grumble.

His mind races to find something, some memory of his that he wants to share with you, and finds that there are very few.

He’s never been ashamed of his tendency to brutality and he isn't now. He applies it when needed and fairly so. It really isn’t his fault that so many people wanted to see a glimpse of it, prodding at him with razor-sharp insults to get to him. Especially those god-forsaken Bracken boys.

“I fell from a tree as a little boy,” he says, to his own wonder.

He feels your giggle in his bones. “What?”

“Yes. I climbed it to prove a point to some cousin or something, I don’t remember and I remember thinking that I was falling to my death.”

“Goodness Benji, don’t you have a happier story.”

He shushes you. “Just wait until I get to the good part you impatient witch.”

You resign and he keeps going on about how he had clambered his way up the tree barefoot at seven years old, how that had been the moment he understood that he had a fear of heights and how he spent ten hours in that tree before gathering up the courage to get back down by jumping, so in all honesty he didn’t fall, but he did promptly land upon his sword instructor who at that moment decided that Benji was his most precious diamond in the rough, because what kind of insane person would jump down and from that point on their friendship had bloomed.

Then after that story was done he kept on going.

Takes of his childhood, his friends at home, his visits to tavern which he discreetly censored to not come across as vulgar.

He can’t pinpoint at what moment you fall asleep but soon enough your snores begin to fill the room, your head still propped against his biceps.

He figures he should get up but he really and strongly does not want to do so.

Instead he moves you, carefully, with much more care than his own hands are used to, until you are horizontal.

He almost manages to scrape together enough discipline to leave you, but then you do something…peculiar.

Though sound asleep, your fingers curl around the fabric of his pants next to your hand, like a child grasping its mothers skirt in some odd way.

Benji doesn’t get up.

He doesn’t sleep for a second, instead he remains exactly as he is.

This is fine, he figures. What are knights for if not full-time protection?

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