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cinemastyles-backup · 2 years ago

Text

When You Know, You Know

Summary: a Wattpad request by: Anastasia31430 - "Can you do a short story in which Harry is a waiter in a hotel/ resort with a rough past and Y/N is a CEO who comes to stay in the hotel for some business trip and they just hit it off something like that possibly a soft Harry one"

In this oneshot, Harry's life will be total opposite, kinda sad, but just remember it's just a oneshot!

Warnings: SMUT18+, Strong language, sensual sex, mild biting, fluffy smut

My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.

MANBUN HARRY

I walk up to my table and greet my staff, "Hello. Hello." I set my bag down and shrug off my coat. One of the gentleman take it, "Allow me, madame." I smile and nod, "Thank you."

"Traffic is god awful today. My driver couldn't even find a faster route." I sigh and shake my head as I look over the menu.

Glass shattering and yelling quickly fills the room. I look over, along with everyone else, in the direction of the sound.

A man in an honestly god awful suit is screaming at one of the waiters, "You need to watch where you're going. You'd fucking think that since you work here of all places, you'd understand that by now."

He brushes off his suit jacket and takes a towel from another waitress. "So sorry, Sir." The waiter who dropped the tray says, "I'm so sorry."

I press my lips together and frown slightly. He genuinely seems sorry, but the asshole of a man just won't let it go.

"I'm going to have your job." Asshole yells, "You're honestly a pathetic excuse of a waiter, you know that?"

Okay. That's it.

"Excuse me." I smile at my table and get up. I walk over and smile at the waiter who gives me a small smile back.

"You know what's really pathetic?" I motion up and down at his suit, "That tacky knock off Armani suit."

The waiter smirks and the asshole gasps, "I'll have you know, that this is an original ar-"

I hold my hand up, "As CEO of Y/L/N Fashion, that suit is a painful knock off so it doesn't matter what you get on it, I mean, just look at the stitching."

He has no words and tugs on his jacket. He looks at the waiter and gives him a mean look before turning around and making his way to the exit.

"Sorry I disrupted your lunch." The waiter mumbles as he bends down to pick up the glass. I kneel down and pick up the bigger pieces, tossing them onto the tray, "Oh please. It wasn't you, that asshole had no right to talk to you like he did."

He shrugs, "I'm kind of used to it."

I look up at him, "That doesn't mean it's okay and has to happen." I stand up and he hands me a towel to wipe my hands off on, "Thank you."

"No. No. Thank you, no one has every really stood up for me like that before." He shrugs and sets the tray down on the table.

"My pleasure." I smile and nod, "I'm Y/N." I hold my hand out and he gently takes it into his, "Harry."

I feel something between us as soon as he touches my hand.

"Harry." I repeat his name, "Nice to meet you." I keep smiling at him, unsure of what to say, "I Um.. sorry.. I just got all, um.. yeah." I laugh and shake my head, "I'm going to go back to my table. I'm in town all this week so maybe we can go out for dinner or something sometime?"

He raises his eyebrows and nods, "Um yeah. Sure. Sure. He grabs his pen and book and scribbles his number down on to the paper and rips it off.

"This is my number, call or .. text me if you want to."

I take the paper and look down at it with a smile, "Will do, Harry."

"Enjoy your lunch." He says before walking away. I shake my head and look over to see him shaking his with a smile.

"What was that all about, y/n?"

"Well someone looks happy, do tell."

I smile, "The waiter, Harry.. he just.. I don't know. I feel like there was a connection or something." I shake my head, "I don't know." I pick up my glass and take a sip.

"Someone has a crush."

I roll my eyes, "No.." I tilt my head and glance over at Harry smiling while greeting another table. His smile is absolutely beautiful, "Maybe."

——

I sit on the couch, staring out the window of my hotel suite. I can't stop thinking about my encounter with Harry and how it felt.

I think for a moment before I slip on a sweater and head downstairs. I get nervous in the elevator, trying to rehearse what I'm about to say.

The elevator doors open and I go to walk around the corner and I run directly into Harry.

"Hey." He says stepping back, "You okay? I'm sorry."

I look up at him and nod, "I'm sorry I should have been paying more attention to where I was going." I laugh nervously.

"I just got done with my shift, do you want to take a walk with me?" He asks with a slight smile.

I nod, "Sure." I follow him out of the door and we walk down the street to the park.

"I love it when it's nice like this." He says tucking his hands into his sweatshirt pocket. I look around, "it's very nice, I will agree."

"So where are you from, y/n?" He asks looking over at me. I blow air, "I was originally born in Cincinnati, but growing up, I moved all over."

He nods, "Oh yeah?

I nod, "Yeah, I mean don't get me wrong, I liked seeing the different states but it was so hard because I never really made friends, I mean I did but only for the time I was in that certain place."

"Yeah, I can understand that. Being the new kid isn't really fun when you feel like you don't fit in anywhere." He shrugs, "I kind of just stuck to myself. No one wanted to be friend with the guy who had to bail because family life wasn't all that's cracked up to be."

I look over at him, "No I totally get that!"

"Really?" He stops and turns towards me.

"My dad was a massive drunk and my mom really only cared about herself so I had to fend for me and my two younger siblings or else we probably wouldn't have made it this far in life."

He nods slowly, "I pretty much left as soon as I could. My parents divorced and once they divorced it was.." he shakes his head.

"Absolute hell that was all put on you?"

"Exactly." He sits down on a bench after we walk a little more and I sit next to him. He turns towards me, "So, what do you do?"

I tilt my head, "Like for work?" He nods once, "I remember you saying something about fashion?"

I laugh slightly, "Oh yeah, that. I am the CEO of Y/L/N Fashions. My sister opened a business and we kind of teamed up on it together."

He raises his eyebrows, "Oh wow." He looks down at his on the knee ripped jeans and sweatshirt, "I feel way underdressed to be even speaking to you." He laughs and I shake my head, "Oh no. If I could wear that to work everyday. I would. My sister is a psycho when it comes to 'uniforms' for the office."

"Do you have an office here?"

I shake my head, "Not yet, we're trying to though. That's why I'm here, and a few others. The ladies I had lunch with today, we're here to scope out and meet with different people for the right amount office space."

"That sounds painful." He laughs, "Sorry. Sorry." He pauses and shakes his head, "Yeah no. I think I'd wait tables all day over sitting and listening to people talk."

I laugh, "It gets very tense sometimes. I just want to look at someone and tell them to just shut the hell up."

He leans back, "I feel that."

"I wish you would have put that guy in his place, Harry. He deserved it."

He tilts his head, "I would have if i knew I could handle my anger once I started."

I bite my lip, "Oh?"

"Yeah, I did a lot of fighting growing up." He snickers, "Never lost though."

My eyes gaze up his arms, "I can imagine."

He looks over at me and smirks, "Yeah?"

I blink and shut my eyes, "Oh gosh. That, um. I totally meant to think that."

He laughs and squeezes my arm, "Im not offended."

I look at him and smile, "Good. When I'm nervous I tend to just spew words without thinking."

"You're nervous?" He turns towards me and rests his arm on the back of the bench, "Me too."

"Oh thank god." I sigh, "I just-" I pause and look at him, "okay. Ever since I met you this afternoon, I can't.." I circle my hands around each other, trying not to come off as desperate.

"Couldn't stop thinking about how it felt?" He nods, "Me too."

I sit there with a smile trying to think of what to say next, "um. Would it be weird if I offered you to.. um. Come back to my hotel for a drink? Talk more?"

"I really like talking to you so of course it wouldn't be weird. Do you mind if I run home and showered quick? I smell like work and I don't want to-"

"Oh yeah, no no. You go and do what you need to do and I will.." I reach into my purse and grab my phone. I text Harry my hotel room number and he smiles as his phone dings.

"I will make it as quick as possible." He leans in and kisses my cheek, "See you soon."

I smile and wave, "See you soon."

I stand up and walk in the other direction, smiling to myself as I walk back to my hotel.

——

"Hey come in." I say stepping aside for Harry to walk in, "Sorry it's very.. boring in here."

He shakes his head and lays his coat over the chair, "No it's perfect. I would have said about coming to my place but it's- we'll, I'm a guy and I just.. yeah."

"No need to explain, my apartment back home is a mess right now. I'm letting my friend and her kid stay with me and her son gets into everything."

"That's so sweet." He smiles and crosses his arms.

I bite my lip and look down, "Well." I shrug, "I treat people how I want to be treated. Something I did from such a young age. That probably the only thing my dad really taught me."

He nods and points to the array of glasses and bottles, "May I?" I motion for him to go ahead, "By all means, please."

He walks over and I stand there admiring how good he looks in just a pair of black jeans and white long sleeve shirt.

He turns to me and I smile as he walks over, "For you." My fingers brush his as I grab the glass and that feeling returns.

"Th-thank you." I can feel my cheeks getting hot and I look down shaking my head, "Sorry."

"Hey, No need to be sorry." He steps closer and I can smell his cologne.

I take a deep breathe, "Okay." I walk over to the couch and sit down, "Have a seat anywhere you'd like." He walks over as he sips his drink and sits on the other end of the couch and shifts towards me.

"What do you want to talk about?" He asks tilting his head, "I'll talk about anything."

"So will I." I smile and tilt my head from side to side, "Um."

"What do you like do so besides travel and go to work meetings for work?" He jumps in starting the conversation.

"Oh gosh, work is pretty much my life, hence why I have no idea what or how to talk to you." I laugh and take a big sip of my drink, "God I'm embarrassing."

He chuckles and shakes his head, "No. no. I understand that. I pretty much work and go home to watch pointless tv and cuddle with my cat."

"You have a cat?" I pout slightly, "Aw!"

He smiles and pulls his phone out, "Yeah, yeah, she's a cuddle bug." He flips his phone around and shows me a picture of her curled up next to him.

Him being his shirtless body and messy hair in bed.

Shit.

I try not to let it show that that picture kind of just turned me on a little bit.

"She's cute." I smile.

"Yeah, maybe you can come meet her before you leave or you know, when you have another moment of free time." He winks and I giggle slightly, "Yeah, yeah."

I finish my drink, "I promise I'm not an alcoholic or anything. I can control myself." I laugh slightly.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, love. I trust you." He leans forward, "Now, I will ask you to explain one thing."

Oh god.

"How is someone so pretty and powerful, like yourself, not snatched up yet?" He rests his elbow on the back of the couch and finishes his drink.

I blush, "Oh. I-I.. um." I smile and laugh nervously, "Im not sure.." he smiles and laughs, "Sorry I just.. I just had to ask."

"Making sure I'm available?" I smirk, "Because I am." I quickly back that up, "The only man in my life right now is the models I have to inspect clothes on."

He chuckles and shakes his head, "You're adorable, you know that?" I smile and shrug, "I mean I-"

"Don't finish that sentence unless you're going to agree with me." He points at me and smiles, "I mean it."

——

After a few drinks and getting to know each other more, I find myself sitting closer to Harry.

"So yeah. That's the story of Y/N Y/L/N." My eyes gaze over his face and he does the same, "And that's the story of Harry Styles."

"Just so you know, you don't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up." I reach out and squeeze his arm, just like he did to me in the park.

He smiles and nods.

"You have a very nice smile." I tilt my head, "You don't deserve to be treated the way you do."

He smiles and shrugs, "My friend got me the job, and I'll feel bad for leaving. Especially without having a backup plan."

I nod, "Why don't you.. come work with me?"

He raises his eyebrows, "Huh?"

I nod, "I've been looking for someone to help me in my office and before you ask, you would not be running to get me coffee or picking up my dry cleaning, that's not something I have my office friends work."

"Friends?" He tilts his head, "I guess that wouldn't be a bad start."

I smile slightly and hit his arm gently. He pretends it hurts bad, "Aw do you need me to kiss it, make it feel better?" I giggle and he laughs.

"Think about it. I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, please. But, I genuinely think that we've really hit it off."

"Not reason to correct you on that." He smiles, "You're the first person I have met here that hasn't only talked to me for stupid reasons."

"Really?"

He nods, "Yeah. Like.." he takes a sip of his drink, "The accent is a big one."

I gasp, "You have an accent?"

I smile as he smiles and he pushes my shoulder playfully, "I do. Believe it or not."

"And here I thought you were just faking it to get me to like you." I smile and scrunch my nose up.

He rests his head on his hand and looks at me, "You are believe it or not, the first person that I've really opened up to about who I am and where I came from."

I nod, "I get that. Not a lot of people know about mine either. They see me and see how successful I am and assume that my parents did a wonderful job raising me. Which makes them wrong on so many levels."

He nods, "so wrong."

"I go by first impressions usually, and my first impression of you was that you were caring." I look at him, "Compassionate, hard working, devoted."

He shrugs, "Only to the people I actually let close to me. If I don't know you we'll enough, or you do something that I don't like. It's out the window."

I nod, "A man who knows what he wants."

"When you know.." he smiles at me, "You know."

"When you know, you know." I repeat slowly back to him.

My eyes pace back and fourth from his lips until he pulls me to him, closing the space. I set my drink down on the table and lay my hands on his neck.

He leans back slightly and brushes hair from my face. I look up at him, "It's okay." He smiles before kissing me again, this time our lips move in the absolute most perfect sync.

He slowly lays me back on the couch, keeping his lips on mine. His hand slides down to my hip and I spread my knees for him to lay comfortably between them.

He kisses down my neck and back up, "just something about you." He whispers, "It drives me crazy."

I nod, "I couldn't stop thinking about you."

He kisses me again and leans up to take his shirt off.

I raise my eye brows and smirk, "I like your uh- tattoos, Harry." He smirks, "Thank you."

He leans back down and I slide my hands over his now bare chest.

"You okay with this?" He asks lowly.

"When you know, you know." I smile and pull him into a kiss. His hands slip under my sweater and unbutton my pants. I help kick them off as he leans up and undoes his.

I bite my lip, watching as his muscles flex.

He looks down at me, "Want to stay here or?

"Where ever you want to go." He shrugs with smile, "I want you to be comfortable."

I smile and stand up, "I'm comfortable with you where ever." I kiss him and slide my hands down his arms, my fingers interlocking with his.

I pull him to the bedroom and sit on the bed, "Big hotel bed, why not use it right?"

He chuckles and walks over. I get on my knees and wrap my arms around his neck, "Now I'm really nervous."

"Me too. It's okay." I whisper with a smile, "We can just take it slow. Really finish off getting to know each other slow." I lay back and he crawls on top of me, "Good deal."

He his lips connect with mine and I moan as he takes my bottom lip between his teeth. He smirks at my reaction and grinds his hard bulge against me.

I arch my back at the feeling and whimper when he stops, "n-no please.. don't stop."

He nods and his lips find their way away my neck as he continues to grind himself on me.

He moans lowly and fuck, that was so hot.

My fingertips dig into his shoulder and I turn my head to meet his face, "I want you." I whisper laying a hand on his cheek.

"Do you have a condom?" He asks quietly. I shake my head and he smirks, "Please don't take offense to this.."

"What?" I ask quietly, afraid he's just going to leave.

He sits up and tilts his head.

I cut him off before he says anything, "Are you going to leave?"

He gives me a confused look, "What? I- uh, no. No I'm not leaving." He smiles and nods towards the door, "I have one in my wallet."

I let out a sigh of relief before processing what he said. I laugh and shake my head, "Why would I take offense to that?"

"I didn't want you to take it as that's why I was here because it's not. It's really not." He holds his hands out in defense, "I just-"

"Harry. Harry. Harry." I sit up and nod, "Go get it."

He laughs nervously and hurries to go grab it.

"I promise it's not what it looks like." He says holding the metallic square in his hand. I smile and shake my head, "I know Harry. I know."

He smiles and sits on his knees at the end of the bed.

He pushes his boxers down and my lips part at the sight of his cock. I watch as he gently rips open the packet and rolls the condom on himself.

"What?" He asks. I look up at him with a smirk and he smiles, "ah, I see." He crawls up and pulls my panties down and tosses them aside.

"Beautiful." He whispers moving up to kiss me. I wrap an arm around his neck and rest the other one on his cheek. He positions himself and starts to slide in.

I gasp and moan at the feeling of him being inside of me. His hand grips at my shoulders and the other slides down my side and grips my hip.

"Fuck, y/n." He groans lowly into my ear, "You feel so good." He slowly pulls out and slides back in. I moan and arch my back, "Shit."

He pulls me closer to him, "You're amazing." He moans before picking up his pace and getting into a slow but very good rhythm.

I cling to him, moaning into his ear, "Harry. That feels so good."

He kisses down my neck, finding a spot to nip and suck.

I moan louder and close my eyes, enjoying every second of Harry touching me.

"I already want to cum, you feel that fucking good, y/n." He moans and kisses me. I deepen the kiss and moan into his mouth, "I-I.." is all I can get out before I cum, "Fuck." I moan loudly as Harry continues to fuck me through my orgasm.

"Shit.. fuck.." he groans and squeezes my hips as he twitches inside of me.

He rests his head on mine and I slowly rub his back.

After a few minutes, he pulls out and rolls the condom off, tossing it into the garbage bin beside the door.

"Will you stay for a little while longer?" I ask moving the blankets so I can slip under them. He smiles and crawls into bed next to me, taking me into his arms without any hesitation.

"I want you to be in my life y/n."

I look up at him and smile, "Okay."

"I know it seems fast but.." he lays a hand on my cheek and gently moves his thumb back and fourth, "I just know that you'll be the best thing for me."

"What is it that you say?" I smile and watch as he tilts his head. I reach my hand up and play with a stay curl, "When you know, you know and I know that this is a good thing for both of us."

——

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joja-co-official · 3 years ago

Note

Love this blog and want you looking your best!

On the last announcement:

*infest (invest would be putting money in something)

*advise (that's the verb; advice is the noun)

Social Media Copy Editor #538

Joja Corporate Office

Join us. Thrive.

Dear Social Media Copy Editor #538,

Thank you for your help and feedback. I gladly appreciate it and I will make sure to present our brand in a better fashion in this future. I am ashamed of my mistake and I promise to never make such mistakes again.

However, I am also dyslexic and prefer to make posts in the dead of the night without proof-reading them while imagining I scream in an endless void called "joja meat freezer". Whenever I hit the post button, I imagine my voice bouncing off its tall, ice-covered walls, echoing through the darkness that is in front of me. I can only see packs upon packs of what I assume are burger patties and steaks, although I can't say for sure. The packaging on those are always weird, - they're written in a language neither me nor any of my colleagues can understand, although one guy once said that he'd seen it somewhere before, but he never elaborated on that. The topic is rarely brought up and if it is, then it's quickly dropped. It creeps us all out, so we don't like to dabble on it too much. But when I look at it now, as I scream nonsense into the seemingly forever-going freezer, it seems a little... off. Maybe it's the dim lighting, maybe it's the fact that I haven't slept enough last night, that I do not know. What I do know is that I can make up the words on the packages. The letters just somehow seem to fit in place. As if the darkness leads the letters, curves them just right, transforming them from silly scribbles into letters, words, texts. And whenever I close the door, all of it seems to become clearer. I don't know why, but I guess my curiosity gets the best of me, so I close it behind me. I come closer to one of the packages, of what I assumed was steak, but now I'm not sure. I glance over the text that is now in front of my eyes - and it seems to be a poem of sorts. A poem to the lands of dark that I've never heard of. How is that possible? That one, I do not know. I hear a quiet noise behind me, it reminded me of footsteps. I don't think we have rats. I turn around, goosebumps going down my spine, and I see a shadow. It waved at me. I waved back.

Joja Co. Representative #12442

Joja Co HQ

Join us. Thrive.

#Lmao probably the funniest ask I've ever gotten #However thank you! Yeah I've made a shitload of typos and errors on that post Lmao #Ive misspelled recent as resent as well #Well I hope you enjoyed this silly thing <3 I'm not the best writer but I tried #stardew valley #sdv #join us thrive #joja co #joja mart #joja #joja answers

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wastelandlovingscenarios · 5 years ago

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Hello, I’m so excited to see your new blog! Can I request on how the companions would react if they were looking through the drawers f!ss home and found a painting (by a ss whos VERY good at drawing) of them and the f!ss while shes sleeping?

my first request and it’s so cute!! i’ll make it preromance & crushing. also i’m really rusty with my writing bc i haven’t written in a while, so pls don’t mind! ❤️

he looked at her face with awe, wondering how someone could be so beautiful while doing something as simple as sleeping. he wanted to trace her face but resisted the urge to do so and decided to just explore the comfort of her home for the time being. ‘a little won’t hurt’, he thought as he rose from the chair, opening one of her drawers. who knows? maybe he’ll score and find a cute baby picture of her. he found some prewar books, along with some neat jewelry but as he dug deeper into the drawer, his eye caught a glint of something colorful hidden beneath all her belongings. he carefully pulled out the item, his breath hitching in his throat as he took in the full picture. it was a painting of him and sole, his arm draped over soles shoulders as she showed a peace sign. if it wasn’t for the rough texture and small little paint splatters on the canvas, anyone could’ve mistakened it for a picture..

Danse:

danse felt his face heat up immensely at the painting, feeling his heart beat against his chest. he wanted to put it back where it belonged but something in him was screaming to observe every inch of it. danse saw how his hands shook as he ran it against the painting, speechless. then it hit him. how was he supposed to face sole without bringing up the fact that he looked through her valuables? he had been denying his admiration for her for the longest time, merely shaking it off as a passing feeling. but now? he was sure that he had fallen for her. his gut turned at the realization and came to somewhat accept it.

looking back at soles sleeping form, he wondered how it would really feel to have his arm draped over her shoulder. how her skin would feel against his and how soft her lips looked- danse flushed, getting mad at himself for having such inappropriate thoughts. ‘get it together, danse!’ the next day as him and sole went out to a mission, she noticed how danse kept sneaking glances and complimented her more often. confused, she just shrugged it off and returned the affection with a smile. danse would never have the heart to bring it up to her, at least any sooner.

Deacon:

“and what do we have here?” deacon mutters, tracing the outlines of their figures on the painting. he let out a big grin as he fully took in the picture. oh, how he wanted to wake up sole so bad just to see the look on her face. but he resisted the urge and decided to settle with admiring the painting. deacon let out a low whistle, his eyes lighting up with admiration. he thought he knew everything about sole, but somehow, she always managed to surprise him with something new. he put away the painting right where he found it, almost making it seem untouched. he sat back down on the chair, closing his eyes as he let out a content hum.

when they returned to hq the next day, deacon was cracking more jokes than usual, often hinting at the painting to sole. sole, being the oblivious person she is, didn’t catch it and laughed at every joke, not sparing a single comment. as sole looked at the mirror to fix her hair, he put his arm over her shoulder, imitating the painting and saw how she shot him a confused look. with a shiteating grin, he boasted, “look familiar boss? almost like a painting, right?” soles cheeks reddened at the comment, her head snapping towards him, “hey! how did you-“ “i have my ways boss.” deacon pulled down his glasses and sent her a wink that would for sure linger in her mind.

Hancock:

for once, he was glad he didn’t fuck himself up with his usual dose of chems and jet. if he did, he wouldn’t get the chance to even admire the beauty of this painting. he let out a chuckle as he noticed how sole took in every detail of his face in her artwork. the leatherness of his skin, the way the dirt smudged on his clothes and how high he looked. god, sole made someone as ugly as him look fantastic in a piece of art. hancock put the painting on the counter and sat on edge of her bedside, a soft smile on his lips.

“geez, you really are something sunshine..” he whispered under his breath, that sweet nickname he’s always wanted to call her escaping his lips. he took a strand of her hair that covered her face and put it behind her ear. on the inside, hancock cheered, now knowing he may have even the slightest bit of chance to win her heart. of course, that was for another day. the next morning as sole wakes up, hancock wraps his arms around her as he hums happily. sole jolted in surprise, soon returning the hug with a confused tone in their voice. “hancock, what’re you-“ she stops midway, seeing the painting on the counter with half lidded eyes. now wide awake, she blabbers a bunch of nonsense as hancock smirks, “care to explain?”

Nick Valentine:

“heh, ain’t that a surprise.” nick chuckled, appreciating how sole had a talent that was definitely rare in the commonwealth. he saw sole painting the past few days, but everytime he came in to check on what she was doing, she yelped and hid the painting, shooing nick away. now that he’s able to see the painting close up, he understands her actions. all in all, nick meant no ill intent to look through soles items or breach through her privacy, but had no regrets in doing so. he put the painting against the wall and walked over to sole, taking in the view before letting out a breath. how could someone as perfect as her admire a bucket of bolts?

he let out a small smile, pulling the blanket over her body and allowing her to sleep peacefully. the following day, sole groggily made her way to the mirror as she rubbed her eyes lazily. as her vision slowly came back, she saw the painting through the reflection and a look of horror crossed her face. connecting the dots, she dashed outside her door, only to find nick leaning on the wall, lighting up a ciggerate as he smiled warmly at her. “morning doll, you look surprised.” “n-nick! you wouldn’t happen to see the-“ “-the painting? i apologize for looking through your stuff, sweetheart, but i’m more than glad i did,” he said with a spark in his voice, “do you mind if i hang that painting up in the agency? i’m sure my clients would love to see my amazing partner.”

Maccready:

maccreadys a big baby. his bottom lip quivers as tears well up in his eyes. he holds in a choked sob as he wipes his eyes furiously. no one has done something as amazing as this for him since lucy. he knew he was somewhat a part of sole’s life but never knew he was such a big enough impact for them to make a painting, a flawless one at that. “dang it sole. you’re making this harder for me.” he said, his heart fluttering at the thought of his crush on sole growing stronger. he was just thankful no one was there, especially sole, to see him tear up like a child. he grabbed a pen and a paper, sitting down on her desk and scribbling something down.

as soon as sole woke up and got ready for the day, she was confronted with a blushing maccready, who was shyly looking away. “morning mac, did you need something?” he let out a nervous cough as he fumbled through his pockets, almost dropping the paper he handed out to her. she took it and saw a (horrible) drawing of him and sole posing together with their guns, the words ‘best duo!’ written on top. “this is so cute! i love it.” she grinned childishly, clutching the paper to her chest. mac just let out a small grunt and spun, walking towards the exit of her room. he grabbed the door frame as he spoke in a low, shaky voice. “hey boss,” sole let out a small ‘hm?’ as she looked up at the nervous mercenary, “yours is far better than mine and uh.. i just want you to know that i love it. really.” he left the room, his heart pounding as he left a blushing sole behind.

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kamilah-is-queen · 5 years ago

Text

The One That Got Away

Warning: Angst

Note: Why does love play games with us? Why does it promise to make you feel happy and joyful with the one you care so much for only to end up in tears and heartbreak at the end? This is just a one off fic and I’m working on the other requests I have received.

Tagging: @kamilah-the-bloodqueen @helpconfusedpersonhere @origmansello @paodequeijofeliz-blog @clan-sayeed-fic @cheeto-choices @scarlet-letter-a0114 @fundamentalromantic @kamilahtopme @my-life-is-being-jens-wife. Tagging people who I thought would be interested.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Never in a million years did Kamilah think that this was the way her heart would break.

Amy was the one who had broken down all of her barriers. Who had made her know the feeling of what it was like to love again. After so many years Kamilah opened herself up to the young woman despite knowing the pain that would eventually follow.

But now..as she looked back at the shattered glass on the floor and broken picture frame, it was all just a big mistake. She never should’ve opened up her heart and vowed never to love again. Carefully, she sat on the ground and picked up the frame..it was their wedding picture that had been thrown to the floor in a angry rage.

“Amy..I’m-I’m sorry that it has to end like this” She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing while she felt her heart crumble to pieces as the picture did. She sat for hours and hours, crying all of her tears until there was nothing left. The pen and paper resting on her desk was picked up and she started furiously writing away all of the emotions she had left for she knew, that she would be heartless by the end.

2 hours earlier...

“I can’t believe you Amy, after everything?!” The door slammed behind her while the anger in Kamilah grew. “I-I didn’t mean to! I was drunk and she...she” “She what? Fucked you better than I ever could?! Made the whole fucking club hear how you screamed her name?!!” Kamilah tossed her blazer off to the side and slammed the car keys down onto the table making Amy jump as she carefully approached her wife. “No please, listen to me” she cooed, her hands gently cupping Kamilah’s face and pulling her in for a soft kiss.

She was shoved backward and stumbled down onto the floor while Kamilah’s eyes flashed a dark shade of red. “Get off of me, I don’t need to listen to you I heard everything myself and you enjoyed Priyas sex didn’t you!?” She stalked closer until Amy’s back was against the wall and trembling with fear. “You-I’m sorry alright! I was drunk, what else do you want me to say!?” The vampire was taken by suprise and yanked Amy up by her collar as her fangs bared. “You really dont care for me or my emotions do you!” She yelled and slammed her back up against the wall before breathing hard and letting her go.

“You know what Kamilah..I’m done. I can’t deal with this anymore. I know I made a mistake but can’t you understand that it wasn’t my fault?” She burst into tears as she scrambled away from the angry CEO and grabbed the picture frame resting on the table.” “I’m leaving and don’t bother to come get me!” she screamed while the picture was flung across the room and landed in a heap of glass on the cool floor.

“And this..” She yanked the diamond ring off her finger and shoved it into Kamilah’s hands. “I don’t want it anymore.”

“Amy no wait, Amy please.” She quickly realized what she had done and grabbed Amy’s hand. “You..You can’t go, I love you!” She pleaded as Amy wriggled herself free from Kamilah’s tight grasp.

“Tough luck Kamilah, you dont care for me and you never have, I’m just another useless mortal for you to play with.” The tears dropped down her face as she moved into the bedroom, slamming a suitcase down on the bed and quickly throwing her belongings inside.

Both of them could feel their hearts shattering into millions of tiny pieces, but there was nothing that could be done to fix the mistakes they made. Kamilah pleaded and begged Amy to stay but it was no use, her choice was made. “That’s why I married you then yeah? Just so you could my little “play thing?” Amy paused and looked up at Kamilah with red puffy eyes “You don’t understand how angry you can get, you don’t understand how scared I become when you let your rage consume you Kamilah. I’m afraid you’ll take your anger out on me and hurt me but not anymore, you can find someone who is just like you seeing as I’m not “the one”.

That did it for Kamilah, after all the endless kisses and laughs they shared, after all the happy memories they made together and after all the times that they whispered sweet nothing into each other’s ears and she was willing to give up just like that. She bowed her head and didn’t say anything as Amy finished packing her suitcase and rolled it towards the apartment door.

“Why don’t you run off to Priya then, see how she treats you” she calmly said as her icy glare turned towards Amy. “Are you serious?! I..I’ll never understand you Kamilah..maybe loving you was a mistake.” The door clicked shut and Kamilah stared at it as if it was Priya herself, and threw herself forward and punched and kicked at it with pure rage. When she finally stepped back, she was panting and standing before a pile of wood stacked on the floor.

“Hey Lily..can I uh, can I stay the night?” The cold rain dripping down onto her hair and soaking her clothes. She shivered slightly and not once did she look back to see if Kamilah was standing behind her. “Yeah of course!” “Thank you Lily, I’ll be there in a minute.”

She quickly ran into the building and wiped the tears from her eyes before knocking on the door and slowly walking inside. She smiled softly at the other woman as she slid the suitcase in behind her and softly closed the door. “Heyyyyy..wait why do you have a suitcase??” The young woman sighed and sat down on the couch and cleared her throat “Kamilah and I..we-we got into a big fight Lily.”

Instinctively, Lily’s arms reached out and pulled Amy into her arms and held her tight. “Oh Amy, I’m sorry. You can stay here with me alright?” Amy softly cried into her besties chest and clung onto her tightly. “T-Thank you Lily” she whimpered while blowing her nose with a tissue.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Amy sat up and cleared her throat. “I..I went out to get away from home for a bit and found myself at the club. I didn’t think that the night would end the way it did, but Priya ended up..”

The woman looked up and tried to steady her wavering voice. “We had sex in her club Lily.” All the guilt and shame caught up to her and she bowed her head. “You?! Oh my god Amy, but hey it’s alright. You can stay here until everything’s cleared up okay?”

“It’s not going to get better Lily.” She lifted her hand and pointed to the finger that had the ring as she burst out into tears.

Current time...

Kamilah began writing as she poured out whatever emotions she had left. She didn’t try and stop the tears from dropping onto the page as her hand scribbled away.

“Dear Amy,

It was never supposed to go like this and I’m sorry it did.

I know I’m not perfect, and I never will be and I’m sorry.

You deserve to live life to the fullest and be with someone who makes you happy, not scared.

Go and find that someone, that person who is perfect for you and open your heart to them

Just know that I’ll always love you Amy...

Yours truly,

Kamilah Sayeed”

That was it, the end of the love story that should’ve lasted an eternity. Everyone thought that nothing could break this love, but it ended up hurting the both of them.

Maybe one day they’d learn to love again..

#one off fic #angst #bloodbound #kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #new fic

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taesthetes · 6 years ago

Text

cloud ten.

you’re my first and last.

pairing: kim taehyung x reader | jeon jungkook x reader genre: angst, fluff type: soulmate au word count: 11,929 words warnings: none playlist: death by a thousand cuts (taylor swift) ⋆ you were good to me (jeremy zucker & chelsea cutter) ⋆ salvation (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ time lapse (taeyeon) ⋆ two (sleeping at last) ⋆ my first and last (nct dream) author’s note: sike you thought this blog was dead? i’m here to drop my biyearly update. shout out to t swift’s lover album for giving me motivation to finish this and thank you @nochanchu for listening to all my rambles ily mel ♡

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE FOUR.

At only four years old, life was simple. Your favorite question comprised of three words: “What’s for dinner?��, and your biggest worry was being able to claim your favorite heels and purse that were both much too big for you during dress-up time at preschool. And the so-called disease labelled “cooties” that girls your age screamed every time they saw you and Jungkook playing together at the swings was something you did not care about. Jungkook liked superheroes, and so did you, and that was all that mattered in terms of forming friendships for you.

At only four years old, a girl in class informed you that girls and boys who were friends meant they were boyfriend and girlfriend. You didn’t know what that meant. So she asked you if you loved Jungkook, and you didn’t know what that meant either. She said that it meant that you wanted to kiss him the way Cinderella and Prince Charming kissed. You and Jungkook were curious, and that was how your first kiss happened inside the large, multicolored, plastic rocket that stood in the corner of the playground area. Jungkook’s lips were red and slightly chapped, and you did not like the kiss very much, so you guessed that meant you did not love Jungkook.

At only four years old, you didn’t quite understand what love was yet, but all you knew was that your stomach did funny flip flops whenever you were in the presence of a certain six year old who lived next door named Kim Taehyung. You liked the way his eyes always sparkled like the pretty stars in the sky and how he always saved his grape flavored fruit snacks for you because he knew they were your favorite. His lips looked pink and soft, and maybe, just maybe, you might be okay with kissing him the way Cinderella and Prince Charming kissed.

At only four years old, you learn about the soulmate system.

It was an ordinary afternoon when the newfound concept of soulmates is introduced to you. You and Jungkook had walked home together with Taehyung from school and are now sitting on the couch, munching on fruit snacks and juice in front of the television set. But the show playing on the screen is long forgotten, and you are wide eyed, soaking up every single word that came out of Taehyung's mouth. Said boy speaks in hushed whispers as if he is revealing top secret information, but punctuates every sentence with wild hand gestures.

"You see the cool gold tattoos that our parents all have? That's 'cause they're soulmates!"

"They're all soulmates together?" Jungkook scrunches his nose as he frowns in confusion, and you tilt your head in agreement, mouth still preoccupied with the straw puncturing your apple juice box.

"No, silly! Your mommy and daddy are soulmates to each other," Taehyung points at Jungkook before continuing, "And _______'s parents are soulmates to each other."

"How do you know that?" you pipe up, looking at the older boy with your interest piqued.

"They all have gold tattoos. I heard some big kids talking about how they only turn gold when you meet your soulmate." Tae explains importantly, "And you get your tattoo when you're older!"

“How much older?”

“Eighteen!”

You scrunch up your nose in disgust. “That’s old.”

"What happens if you don't like your soulmate?" Jungkook asks, staring at Taehyung with anticipation, his fruit snacks now abandoned on the cushion next to him.

"Why wouldn't you like your soulmate?" you interrupt, perplexed as you squeezed the now empty juice box in your hands, before Taehyung could answer. "You and your soulmate are perfect together."

"Well, who do you want to be your soulmate?" Jungkook points his stare at you now, and your cheeks turn rosy as you avoided his gaze.

"Um..." You peek over at Taehyung, who gives you a toothy grin, and your face becomes an even darker shade of crimson as your stomach begins to fill with butterflies again. "... Taetae?"

Jungkook's impossibly large doe eyes widen even more at your answer in surprise, and Taehyung beams happily, his eyes rivaling the crescent moon. The butterflies multiply in your tummy as he plops down on couch next to you and grabs your hand innocently.

"I want you to be my soulmate, too!"

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE FIVE.

As kids, your attention span was smaller than a goldfish, and the topic of soulmates did not come up again until the following year. Taehyung burst through the front door of your home and skids his way into kitchen. Being older than you and Jungkook, his school day would last longer than yours now, a fact he often complained about. Jungkook suggested Taehyung move down to your and his grade, but Taehyung’s mother said no and the boy sulked for the rest of the day.

You and Jungkook are quietly settled at the table, drawing pictures of your respective families that are needed for class tomorrow. Your teacher announced that the following day would be Parents’ Day in which one or both of your parents will come in. You will show them around your classroom and give them your drawing as a present. And most importantly, there will be cake and juice.

Taehyung peers down at your drawing with slight interest before plopping himself down in one of the empty chairs and grabbing a chocolate chip cookie from the center of the table for himself.

“Today, I got to see my teacher’s tattoo change,” he announces loudly, munching on his snack.

Your curiosity piqued, you look up at Taehyung, all thoughts of finishing your drawing flying out the window. Jungkook carefully finishes the family member he is working on before capping his marker and placing it down, his eyes inquisitively trailed on Taehyung now.

“What was it like?” you ask eagerly, bouncing in your seat as Jungkook stares at Taehyung, impatiently waiting for his answer as well.

“Well,” Taehyung starts, his voice hushed as if he is divulging an important secret. And in a way, he is. “Miss Kang was helping me add numbers together and then the new fourth grade teacher, Mister Jung walked into the classroom on accident. I think he got lost, but when Miss Kang saw him, her tattoo started getting all shiny! She showed it to us before and it was a boring black, but I saw it start to shine! It was like glitter!”

“What happened next?” you ask, eyes round in anticipation, as Taehyung slowly takes another large bite of his cookie.

“I touched her tattoo and told her it was glowing! And we stared at it until it turned all gold!” Taehyung says enthusiastically, crumbs spraying everywhere. “And Mister Jung’s tattoo was gold, too, and he asked Miss Kang out for… oh, what’s that drink grown-ups always have? The one that your mom says makes you short?”

“Coffee!” you supply, and Taehyung nods at you fervently, “Yeah, that one!”

“Coffee is gross,” Jungkook quietly says, scrunching his nose. “He should get her milk.”

“Yeah,” you agree, frowning a little now. “Or apple juice. I hope my soulmate likes apple juice.”

“I like apple juice!” Taehyung exclaims, grinning at you, a smudge of crumbs and melted chocolate on his cheek. You smile back at him happily. Jungkook observes the two of you quietly, eyes flitting back and forth between you and Taehyung.

Apple juice is good. But he still likes milk better.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE SIX.

In a make-believe world fueled by your mind and Jungkook’s, you become superheroes, race car drivers, astronauts, dragons and knights—because you refuse to sit in the treehouse like some prissy princess. It’s much more fun to pretend to be a dragon and chase Jungkook the knight with your fire breathing skills, conjured up with bits of orange and yellow construction paper and a sprinkle of imagination.

You are in the midst of another game of pretend when Taehyung stops by, waving around one of those twenty-four pack of markers that every kid on the block envies. “_______! Kookie! Want to try out the new markers I got?”

Game now forgotten, you and Jungkook hurriedly stumble over to Taehyung, following him back to his house where he haphazardly spread the markers across the kitchen table. The three of you settle down with sheets of paper and markers of your favorite colors, happily scribbling across the blank canvases. Engrossed in your art, none of you hear the front door open, and Taehyung’s older brother and his friend entered into the kitchen.

“Jinnie! Was basketball fun? Are you on the team?” Taehyung bounces in his seat, his attention focused fully on his brother. Seokjin grins as he opens the refrigerator door for some milk. Yoongi stands next to him quietly, but a proud smile adorns his face.

“Yeah, I made it onto Yoongi’s team! We have a game in two weeks, and coach said I can play shooting guard!” Seokjin exclaims, beaming, and an identical smile is found on Taehyung’s face. “Maybe mom can take _______ and Kookie, too, if they want to watch?”

“Yes! I wanna watch the game, too!” You nod fervently, and Jungkook echoes your agreement.

“Let’s make a banner for their team!” Taehyung suggests, and the three of you busy yourselves with making a brightly multicolored sign that might even put actual rainbows to shame.

Yoongi quietly observes how Taehyung carefully passes markers between him and you as Jungkook silently and slowly works on his corner of the banner. Seokjin and Yoongi slip away from the kitchen wordlessly, leaving you three alone.

“You think they’re soulmates?” Yoongi asks, nudging his friend as they make their way up to Seokjin’s room.

“Who? Tae and _______? Or _______ and Kookie?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Either one.”

“Maybe. Who knows?”

“If they are, it’s gonna suck for one of them.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE SEVEN.

“This is Jiminnie! He’s in my class, and he just moved here.”

Taehyung introduces you and Jungkook to his new friend, a chubby cheeked boy with nicely combed black hair. Jungkook hides behind you, peeking out and carefully scrutinizing the newcomer. Jimin shyly waves at the two of you, and you do the same cheerfully.

“We’re gonna go ride our bikes to the park. See you later!” Taehyung pulls Jimin away with him, leaving you and Jungkook standing in your front yard. You stare at them riding off wistfully. Their bikes don’t have training wheels anymore. Maybe you can ask your mom to take those off later. You are a big girl now, too, right? Maybe Taehyung will let you play with him and Jimin if you can ride your bike without training wheels, too.

“I’m gonna take the training wheels off my bike,” you announce, and Jungkook frowns, furrowing his eyebrows.

“That’s dangerous! You can’t do that.”

“But Tae doesn’t have training wheels,” you points out before Jungkook tugs at your sleeve.

“Because he’s a big kid and he and Jimin are playing big kid games. Let’s play Mario Kart. We don’t have to take turns because Tae isn’t here.”

You follow after him to his house, sulking. “Does this mean he’s not gonna play with us anymore?”

Jungkook scrunches up his nose. “I don’t know. But we’ll have fun! C’mon, let’s play before you have to go home for dinner.”

“Okay…” You trail behind him, looking over your shoulder once more in the direction of the park.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE EIGHT.

You stand at the base of the tallest tree in your neighborhood, craning your neck to see the highest branches above your head, as Lisa and Rosé huddle together nearby. Lisa had climbed up a few of the branches earlier before quickly clambering down. Yugyeom and Jaehyun are already sitting on some of the branches, calling for Jungkook to climb up with them.

“C’mon, Jungkook! Race you to the top! Winner gets a whole carton of chocolate ice cream!” says Jaehyun. In a flash, Jungkook nimbly makes his way up the tree, rapidly reaching the other two boys.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you too want the ice cream, but the thought of climbing up all those branches makes you shudder. Your stomach wins over your mind however, and you start the ascent mere seconds later.

“Be careful, _______!” Rosé cries out, but you rise even higher than the three boys, who watch you in awe. Finally, you are perched precariously on the top branch, grinning down widely, as the other two girls now cheer for you.

“_______ gets the ice cream.” Jungkook shrugs, sliding down from his seat and beginning his descent. Jaehyun and Yugyeom mumble in agreement as they start to get down as well. The smile on your face that might as well be the spitting image of the Cheshire cat’s now dims when you see how far you really are from the ground. Hastily, you wrap your arms around the trunk of the tree, clutching on for dear life.

“C’mon, _______, let’s go get ice cream,” says Yugyeom as all five of your friends waited at the bottom, looking up at you.

“I can’t! I don’t think I can get down.” Your bottom lip quivers slightly, but you keep the tears at bay.

“Should we get an adult?” Lisa pipes up.

“No! We’re gonna get in trouble for climbing.” Others chime in agreement, and you almost regret climbing up here, but the prospect of getting ice cream still shines in your mind. You tighten your grip around the tree, clinging to it.

“What’re you doing?” A familiar voice is heard, and soon, Taehyung stands under the tree with Jimin in tow.

“_______’s stuck!” exclaims Lisa as the others point up to where you sat, trembling. Taehyung and Jimin both look up at the same time, eyes widening when they see your tiny figure at the top. You try to give them a brave smile and a wave, but you quickly put your arm around the trunk again. In a flash, Taehyung clambers up to where you were.

“I’m gonna climb down first, but you follow after me, okay? I’ll show you where to put your foot to get down,” he instructs you, and you nod. He stretches down, finding his footing, and settles on a lower branch. You try to mimic him, foot dangling down, and you tremble slightly.

“Almost there!” he cheers, and you find the right footing before carefully moving down and sitting next to him. He beams at you, and you smile back at him, relieved. The two of you follow the same pattern until you finally reach the ground to your utmost relief.

The two of you split the ice cream.

After all, he reached the top, too.

And you don’t mind, of course.

It’s Tae after all.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE NINE.

You and Jungkook are sprawled outside on your front porch, a pile of board games stacked haphazardly next to you. The game of “Sorry!” spread out in front of you barely piques your interest as you keep glancing out towards the yard. Jungkook grows tired of reminding you to roll the dice every time it was your turn, huffing loudly in annoyance.

“What are you looking at?”

You whip your head back towards the game, automatically reaching for the dice. “Nothing.”

He scoffs, “It’s my turn. Pay attention, dummy.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Then why didn’t you go already, dummy?”

“It’s no fun when you’re not paying attention,” he complains before throwing the dice and eyeing the large red construction paper next to you. “Stop looking for Tae.”

Your face immediately feels warm before you screech out, “I’m not!”

“Hi, _______!” Taehyung’s voice rings out and you quickly turn to see him standing at the edge of the front lawn. Hurriedly, you scramble up and pick up the crimson paper beside you. Rushing down the front steps, you skid to a stop in front of the surprised boy and thrust the valentine into his hand.

“This is for you!” you manage to stammer out, digging the toe of your shoe into the dirt anxiously, as you clasp your hands together behind your back. He grins widely, eyes forming miniature moon crescents and sparkling as they always do like the stars in the night sky. He gazes at the brightly decorated card with delight, and perhaps, your little heart speeds up a tiny bit.

“Thank you!” He digs around his pocket before pulling out a purple wrapped lollipop. “I got this for you, too. It’s grape flavored!”

Nine-year-old you nearly swoons, and that was the moment when you knew you wanted Taehyung to be your valentine every year after that.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE TEN.

“Hey.”

Jungkook pokes your shoulder harshly. Both your parents had finally agreed to let you both have a sleepover in his treehouse, so the two of you lay side by side in sleeping bags, surrounded by an abundance of snacks and several stuffed animals.

You roll over to face him, poking him back with just as much force. “What?”

“Do you…” he hesitates before continuing, “Do you believe in love?”

“Yes,” you answer immediately, hugging your pillow to your chest.

“But… you know Jin and his girlfriend?” he asks, and you hum in acknowledgment. “What happens if they find out they’re not soulmates? But they love each other?”

You stop fiddling with the zipper on your sleeping bag. “Well… if they love each other, then why wouldn’t they stay together?”

“But they’re not soulmates.”

“Does it matter? They’re in love.”

Jungkook sits up, wide eyed. “Wouldn’t you love your soulmate? When you meet them, you fall in love.”

“But do you stop loving your girlfriend then if she’s not your soulmate?”

“Well… a soulmate bond is stronger than that,” he says confidently.

“Huh,” you mull over his words before a sly grin spreads across your face. “Does this have to do with the new girl in our class? Is little Kookie in love? Does he want her to be his soulmate?”

“Shut up!” His face turns red before he throws his pillow at you. Laughing, you toss it back at him, hitting him square in the chest. He falls back onto his sleeping bag, glaring at you.

“I feel bad for whoever’s gonna be your soulmate.”

“Right back at you, Kook.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE ELEVEN.

At age of eleven, you experience your first heartbreak. It’s funny how a boy can break your heart when he never knew he held it to begin with. You didn’t even realize that’s what heartbreak is until that moment. All you knew is that you didn’t want to see him holding her hand anymore.

“Hey, _______! Jungkook!”

You and Jungkook stop in your tracks and turned to see Taehyung waving excitedly at the two of you. Your eyes immediately drop to where his hand is being tightly interlocked with a very pretty girl’s. When he halts in front of you, you can feel Jungkook nudging your arm subtly.

“H-hey, Tae,” you manage to mumble out.

“I just wanted you to meet my girlfriend!” he says proudly, and the girl smiles at you shyly, introducing herself. The two of them continue speaking to you and Jungkook, but you can’t for the life of you pay attention. She is simply too pretty, too nice, too perfect, and you want to throw up.

“I-I need to go—stomachache.” You dash up the block and up the walkway to your house, fumbling with the keys before letting yourself in. Jungkook is startled, only staring at your retreating figure, before turning to face the surprised couple. “I’m gonna go check on her. Nice to meet you.”

“I hope she’s okay,” Taehyung says, concerned, and Jungkook almost found himself glaring at the older boy. “Yeah, me too.”

Jungkook quickly departs, letting himself into your house. He makes a beeline to your room where you are curled up in the center of your bed. Clearing his throat, he awkwardly stands in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, uh, I can beat him for you?”

You let out a strangled laugh, sitting upright. “No, it’s okay. Just… pretty dumb of me to have a stupid crush on him all this time, huh? What was I thinking?”

Jungkook shuffles over and sits on the edge of your bed. “You’re not dumb. Taehyung’s the dumb one. And if you ever tell anyone I said this, I will eat all of your Hot Cheetos stash, but… he doesn’t deserve you anyway. My best friend deserves someone who isn’t dumb.”

You smile gratefully at him. “Thanks, Kook.”

“Anytime.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE TWELVE.

“So you… broke up with him?”

“Yeah.”

You sit cross legged on your bed, idly twirling your pen in hand, as you continue to work on your science homework. Jungkook stares at you, mouth agape and math worksheets abandoned. You and Minghao agreed the two of you were better off as friends, and that was that.

“But why?”

“I just…” you shrug, tossing the pen onto the comforter and leaning back onto the palm of your hands. “I didn’t like him that way. I thought I did, but when I was with him, I don’t know, it felt like hanging out with a friend. What about you and Eunbi?”

“Oh. We broke up a week ago,” he mutters, fiddling with the edge of the sweater sleeve.

“What? I thought you liked her! You liked her since last year!”

“She didn’t feel like my soulmate.”

“Soulmate?” you repeat incredulously. “We literally just got our first boyfriend and girlfriends, and you’re already thinking of soulmates?”

“Well, you broke up with your first boyfriend, too,” he fires back.

“Yeah, because I didn’t like him that way,” you explain slowly, “But you just broke up with her because you didn’t think she was your soulmate? How can you even tell who your soulmate is?”

“I’ll know!” he exclaims defensively before smirking and leaning forward, “Just like how you know Taehyung is your soulmate.”

Your face flushes, and you scowl at him. “He is not my soulmate.”

“But you want him to be,” he teases you, and you throw a discarded crumpled paper at him. He easily dodges you much to your disdain. “Well, you didn’t deny it.”

Your voice is quiet when you finally answer him.

“He doesn’t like me like that.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE THIRTEEN.

At the age of thirteen, you discover red tattoos. No one had told you anything about them before, and you didn’t even know they existed until Yoongi showed up at Jin and Taehyung’s house with one. While Jin was ecstatic about the discovery of his own tattoo and his girlfriend’s turning a pretty shade of matching gold a few months earlier, the same could not be said for his friend.

When Jin quickly pushes Yoongi past everyone with prying eyes and up to his room, you hear faint mumblings from the smaller teenager about not wanting to go home just yet. Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook had begun to shout happy birthday, which quickly dies down when the two older boys brush past them, ignoring the drooping birthday banner entirely. You are the only one to see the new glaring tattoo on Yoongi’s wrist. You recognize the name as belonging to a very kind upperclassman who had graduated from your middle school a couple years ago. But what you don’t understand was the color of the tattoo.

It is crimson.

When you go home that day, you ask your parents during dinner why a tattoo would be scarlet. Your parents exchange indiscernible looks before your mom quietly answers your question.

“Your tattoo turns red when you meet your soulmate... but their soulmate isn’t you.”

At only thirteen years old, you learn that the soulmate system isn’t fair.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE FOURTEEN.

After encouraging Jungkook to try out for football and finding out he made the team, you no longer had a walking buddy to go home with. When Taehyung found out about this, he had taken it upon himself to designate himself as your new walking buddy. And every day, without fail, he greeted you at your locker, and the two of you started the journey back home.

You were halfway to your houses when Taehyung halted in his tracks, dropping his backpack on the ground and unzipping it before rummaging through its contents. You patiently wait for him a few steps ahead, gazing at the pretty flowers blooming alongside the road.

You hear him close his backpack and make his way towards you once more. “Hey, can you hold this for me real quick?”

You outstretch your hand, paying no mind to whatever it is, when he nimbly slides his fingers through yours and squeezes your hand gently. His hand is large and warm, enveloping yours completely in a way that makes you feel safe instantly. Eyes widening, you stare down at your intertwined hands, mouth agape.

“I—we’re holding hands,” you manage to stammer out, and he smiles at you, albeit nervously.

“Is that okay? Sorry, I should have asked first and—”

“No, it’s okay, I like yo—I mean, I like it.”

There’s an ear splitting grin across his face now as his eyes sparkle like the stars. “Were you about to say you like me?”

“W-well, I—”

Stammering, you start to back away, but Taehyung tugs you towards him. Your face can rival a tomato at this point, but all you can focus on is how close his face is to yours. You can count nearly every single one of his long dark lashes framing his pretty eyes, and you so badly want to kiss the little mole on the tip of his nose. He gently places a kiss to your cheek, and your heart nearly implodes.

“I like you, too.”

You don’t think it’s possible to feel any happier than you did that day.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE FIFTEEN.

Jungkook lounges around on your bed as you pace back and forth in front of him in your heels. Taehyung is taking you to junior prom, and you had spent months, searching for the perfect dress, and even had Jisoo and Joy come and do your makeup and hair.

“Calm down. You look fine.” Jungkook says, looking up from his phone.

“What if I trip and fall down the stairs? What if I spill food? Oh god, what if I step on his foot during the dance?”

“_______, listen to me.” Jungkook stands up in front of you. “I’m one hundred percent sure that if you trip and fall, Taehyung will help you up. If you drop your food, he’d get you a new plate. If you step on his foot, he’ll still love you.”

“We, uh, we’ve never really said the L-word yet,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“_______, he’s whipped,” your best friend deadpans. “Trust me, he’s in love with you.”

When Taehyung knocks on the door to pick you up, your father sets him with a steely look before letting him in. He waits anxiously for you with your corsage in his hands. And when you descend down the steps, he is absolutely enamored. He nearly drops the flowers and stumbles over his words as he tells you that you look beautiful. He shakily slides the corsage onto your wrist, and your mother refuses to let the two of you go without taking a dozen or so pictures.

He drives the two of you to the dance, hand clutching yours the entire time. The two of you loudly sing along to every love song on the radio, and he presses your hand to his mouth, leaving a soft kiss, at every red light.

When the two of you are at the dance, he pulls you closer for every slow song. At some point, you pass by Jimin, and he winks at you before whisking off his date. The paper decorations and crinkling stars spin around gently overhead as the blue lights are dimmed, and Taehyung softly sings along to the ballad to you. You rest your head on his shoulder, swaying along to his voice.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs, and you raise your head to look up at him. His hair is ruffled, and there’s the softest expression on his face as his eyes shine. He leans down and captures your mouth against his. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, a hazy smile playing on his lips.

“I love you.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE SIXTEEN.

Taehyung knocks on your window at 11:55 p.m. and you carefully open it, scared of waking up your parents. He crawls in before pulling you in for a hug. You wrap your arms around him, burying your face into the cozy sweater he is wearing.

“Five more minutes until your birthday,” you murmur, and he squeezes you to his chest even tighter. You can hear his heart thudding so quickly, and you imagine yours is the same.

“I wish time would stop. I want it so badly to be your name,” he whispers, and your heart almost stops. “If it’s not yours…”

He can’t bring himself finish the sentence, and you tilt your face towards him to kiss him gently. When you pull away, he laughs softly, leaning down and giving you one more kiss.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to ever stop loving you even if it’s not your name, sunshine. Your laughter, your smile, your very being, I don’t know if I can live without you.”

When midnight comes, you and Taehyung stare at the black ink now permanently found on his wrist: your name in pretty cursive. He embraces you, laughing breathlessly, as he can’t tear his eyes away from the new marks on his skin. He tenderly traces his finger across your cheek before cupping your chin and leaning down to nuzzle his nose against yours. His eyes hold all the stars in them as he stares into yours with the loveliest gaze.

“It’s you. It’s always been you. You’re my first and last.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE SEVENTEEN.

It is the day before Jungkook’s birthday, and you know he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life. He texts you nonstop the moment he wakes up, asking you if you think the new pretty transfer student could be his soulmate or maybe the girl who sits three seats behind him in AP Physics. Or perhaps, his soulmate lives on a different continent and in that case, how is he supposed to meet her then? You reassure him about all his worries, and he continues to message you about the various scenarios he’s conjured up in his mind about how they will meet and how he’ll ask her out.

Your phone buzzes nonstop up until midnight.

And then it’s radio silence.

He leaves your text message unanswered when you ask him who she is. You are left wondering the entire night. Perhaps, it’s someone he doesn’t like. Maybe she already has a soulmate. What if he didn’t get a tattoo?

He continues to evade you at school and everywhere else. His friends prove to be no help, and when his mother can only offer you an apologetic smile when you visit his house for the nth time this month, you finally give up.

Losing your best friend hurts more than you can ever imagine.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE EIGHTEEN.

Today is the day.

Today was not just any Friday or your regular school day. It was The Day. You had woken up earlier than usual, giddier than usual, as you went through your morning routine and set off for school. Classes felt as if they went in slow motion; you were more preoccupied with watching the hands of the clock tick tock around and around in circles until it reached 3 p.m. Your friends all gave you shouts of encouragement, and you waved at them before rushing home.

You tried to concentrate on your homework and managed to do the bare minimum needed. Dinner was a rushed affair, and your parents exchanged knowing looks.

After all, today was the last day without a tattoo.

When midnight appears, you will finally have the name of your soulmate written upon your skin.

You are pacing back and forth in your room, impatiently waiting for the last few hours to trickle by, when the doorbell is heard throughout the house. You hear your father opening the door before the sound of footsteps are pattering up the stairs.

“How have you been, sunshine?”

Eyes widening and heart nearly stopping in your chest, you immediately turn your attention to the figure leaning against the doorway. Taehyung widely smiles back at you, and you immediately rush into his embrace, burying your face in the space between his neck and shoulder.

“I’ve missed you!” you manage to mumble out despite pressing your face into his shirt, inhaling as you are hit with the familiar faint scent of strawberries, pine, and home. His laugh vibrates through his chest, and he presses a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I missed you, too. I tried to take the earliest train after my last class to come here, but I’m a little late, sorry. But I made it! Oh, and here! I got you these.”

He presents to you a lovely bouquet of sunflowers, lavenders, and baby’s breath. “The flower shop lady helped me pick them out, and I even learned the meanings of each one.”

“They’re gorgeous,” you breathe out, carefully taking them into your hands. “Thank you so much, Tae.”

He grins sheepishly. “Anything for you.”

When the two of you finish getting a vase and arranging the flowers to stand on your desk, you and Taehyung are curled up together on your bed. You lean your head on his shoulder, still admiring the flowers.

“What do they each mean?”

“The sunflowers are for loyalty and happiness,” he starts, taking your hand into his gently. “The lavenders are for devotion.” He then intertwines his fingers and yours tightly. “And the little white flowers are for long lasting love.” He carefully tugs your hand up, placing a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

He flips your hand over to reveal the blank canvas on your wrist. Carefully, he traces his name on the empty expanse of your wrist with a soft smile making its way across his lips. “Are you excited?”

“Yes.” You reach out to grab his other hand and lovingly trace the familiar letters etched on his wrist. “I still can’t believe you have my name.”

You line your arm up next to his. “And in a few moments, I’ll finally have yours.”

He nuzzles his nose in your hair before you lean up and place a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. He laughs, giddy at the mere thought, before excitedly giving you a proper kiss.

A fleeting feeling of warmth spreads across your wrist, and the two of you finally part, dizzily smiling at each other, before gazing at your new tattoo. Suddenly, it feels like someone has dumped an entire bucket of ice water on you. Your blood runs cold, your heart stops, and the mismatched colors start to blur as the tears begin to cluster.

Rather than matching gold on your wrists, the taunting colors of ebony and crimson glare back at you.Your name, now in red, is branded harshly on Taehyung’s skin.

And there, permanently stamped on your own wrist, are unapologetically bolded letters in black.

Jeon Jungkook.

You blink away the tears, staring at the name in horror. Immediately, you begin scrubbing away at your wrist, shades of red blooming on your skin, as you try to scratch the name off. Taehyung covers your wrist with his hand, grabbing your hands with his other.

“Please stop,” he says softly, “you’re hurting yourself.”

“No! I don’t—I don’t understand!” Your voice cracks before it rises in volume. “This isn’t right! This is a mistake! This is wrong! They gave me the wrong name!”

The sound of rushing footsteps is unheard over your cries, but your parents soon crowd into the room. “W-what’s going on?”

Hysterical, you wave your wrist wildly in their direction before clawing at the black script in despair. “This is the wrong name! This isn’t Tae’s name! Why isn’t it Tae’s name?”

You collapse on your bed, tears pouring freely down your cheeks, as your parents finally see the tattoos of red and black adorning his and your wrists. Taehyung gently gathers you in his arms, and your hands desperately clutch onto the front of his shirt as you bury your face into his chest. Numb, you can barely register the feeling of wetness on the crown of your head as he embraces you tightly and cries with you.

At the age of eighteen, you experience heartbreak for a second time.

At only eighteen years old, you learn that the soulmate system is cruel.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Your birthday is not a celebration, but rather, a farewell.

Saturday is dreary with gray clouds hanging overhead. Stray pieces of newspaper are scattered by the wind, flapping around aimlessly. Save for a few other people far from earshot, you and Taehyung are alone on the train platform in the early morning.

“Sunshine...” he begins before swallowing hard. “_______, I don’t think we should be together anymore.”

You freeze, staring at the train tracks in front of you. They run parallel, stretching on for miles, never touching.

“_______?”

“You don’t mean that,” you say at last, voice barely above a whisper.

“We don’t belong together,” he says quietly. He reaches out for your hand before stopping himself, retracting his hand slowly. “You don’t belong with me.”

You grab his hand and hold on tightly. “Stop saying that. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“_______... I’m not your soulmate.” His voice breaks, and he finally turns to you, cupping your chin gently with his hand. His gaze is soft, but resolute. “Your soulmate isn’t me. I can’t make you as happy as your soulmate can. You were made for me, but I wasn’t made for you.”

“Tae...”

He leans down, and his lips touch yours tenderly, before he pulls away. His eyes still glimmer like all the stars. Stars always shine the brightest before they extinguish. He smiles wistfully, caressing your cheek softly, before hugging you tightly. “Thank you for making me so happy. Even if it’s not with me, I want you to find happiness, too. I want you to have the love you deserve.

Thank you for loving me. You’re my first and last.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Taehyung doesn’t return any of your calls. You simply receive radio silence from him from there on out. And you tried reaching him on nearly every single mode of social media possible. His parents offered no help either, merely polite answers and avoidance of mentioning their son. Jin is sympathetic, but you hit a wall with him as well.

Your friends had said nothing since two Sundays ago during your birthday party. They had made no mention of your new ink after they noticed it covered by several large bracelets and hair ties. The only acknowledgment from them were well wishes of happy birthday and thoughtfully chosen presents. They comfort you, exchanging words of condolence and sharing tubs of your favorite ice cream, when you finally told them about the red tattoo, but left out the name of your soulmate.

At school, you remain quiet, barely participating in conversations. Rosé looks at you worriedly as you push back and forth the vegetables on your lunch tray absentmindedly.

“_______, are you feeling okay?” She gently pries, and you smile tiredly at her.

“I’m fine, really, I—” you cut yourself off, spotting a familiar figure disappearing out the cafeteria door. “Hold on.”

You jump out of your seat, leaving your friends bewildered, as you rush towards the same entrance, pushing your way out into the hallway.

“Jungkook!”

Your voice rings out, bouncing against the walls, and the boy stops temporarily before speeding up. You run down the hallway now, hand reaching out until your fingers wrap around his arm. He finally turns to look at you for the first time in months, and when his eyes meet yours, the tingling feeling of warmth begins to make its way across your wrist.

You rapidly shove up the sleeve of your sweater, now staring at the glowing, glittering letters of gold stretched across your skin. You only faintly register the gasp from Jungkook when he recognizes his own name before he exposes his own wrist, your name emblazoned in the identical color.

“You... you’re my soulmate,” he whispers, gazing at the shimmering names, almost entrances. He reaches out to touch his name, but you jerk your arm away, covering it up with your sweater once more.

“This isn’t—this isn’t right,” you start to back away and turn away. “It’s supposed to be red.”

“Red? You wanted a red tattoo?” Jungkook grabs your hand and stares at you incredulously.

“God, Jungkook, you ruined everything!” You yank away your hand and start to storm off down the hallway, but Jungkook refuses to let you get the last word, calling out from behind you.

“Are you kidding me? I ruined everything? I didn’t choose to be your soulmate!”

You whirl around on your heel, fiercely looking him in the eye. “No, Jungkook. Are you kidding me? Why didn’t you tell me you had my name instead of avoiding me like the plague? What the hell is wrong with you? You refused to talk to me at all and now you just expect me to accept this?”

“Because I thought my tattoo would be red!” he explodes, “Because I’ve been waiting for my soulmate my whole life, and then I saw it was you. I thought you and Tae are soulmates, so mine would be red. Why would you want a red tattoo?”

“Because this is a mistake!” you burst out. “It’s supposed to be Tae! I thought if this turned red, that meant the whole thing would be a mistake, that it’d be okay that Tae’s tattoo is red because both of ours would be the same color!”

“The universe doesn’t make mistakes!”

“Then what is this?” You bare your wrist at him, the sparkling letters making him wince. “We’re not even in love!”

“A lot of soulmates didn’t know each other and weren’t in love when they got their tattoos!”

“Well, we’ve known each other forever! We didn’t fall in love!”

He falls silent, and the two of you just stand there. And for the first time in a long time, you really take a look at him. He looks scared and small, shoulders hunched. You know this isn’t fair for either one of you. You know how long he’s waited for his soulmate. You can’t imagine what he went through alone when he received his tattoo.

Finally, you turn and leave.

He doesn’t stop you.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You avoid Jungkook after that. It becomes an unspoken rule between the two of you to stay clear of one another. Your last message to Taehyung about your changed tattoo two months ago was left unanswered. As much as it pains you to sound like any other angst filled teenager, your friends and parents don’t understand you. They don’t understand why you refuse to acknowledge your soulmate. High school relationships aren’t meant to last, your mother says, your soulmate is the one made for you. You wonder if she would be relaying the same sentiments about short-lived juvenile relationships if your tattoo spelled out Taehyung’s name.

“How is he?” you ask, lingering near the CD racks and trailing your fingers across the spines of them. Yoongi remains a few steps ahead of you, sorting through the box of discs in his hand to place the correct one on the shelves. After graduating college, he had taken on a second job at the music store downtown in exchange for working in the backroom music studio at night for free.

“He’s… better. His latest art piece is nominated for an art show.”

“Oh, that’s amazing!” You reach over to pick up a few CDs from the box and arrange them on the shelves. “I’m really happy for him—”

“_______.”

“—and if he gets into the art show, maybe I can go and see it!”

“_______.” You stop short as Yoongi calls out to you a second time. “What?”

“This isn’t good for you.”

“What do you mean? I’m fine.” You reach out to grab another CD to shelf, but Yoongi drops the carton on the floor. “Listen to me, _______. You need to move on. This isn’t what Taehyung would want.”

You drop your hands to your side, shoulders sagging. “How would you know that?”

“Because I have a red tattoo, too.”

His quiet confession shakes you to the core. While you had caught a glimpse of it five years ago, he had never mentioned anything about his tattoo to anyone after that day. Everybody else had merely assumed he will meet his soulmate sometime in the future, and you sometimes wonder if what you remembered was a figment of your imagination. But he lays out the bare truth right here and there.

“You—I—what?”

“We were school friends. She never knew I had her name though. She had her tattoo first. I saw her fall in love with her soulmate. I saw her tattoo turn gold when he came to school with her name the day after his birthday. I saw when her name turned gold for him. I wondered why mine turned red instead.” He stops suddenly before glancing over at you. “Do you know what’s the most fucked up part about a red tattoo? You get to feel your soulmate’s most intense emotions.”

Your mouth feels dry, and you want to reach out towards him but for some reason, you can’t.

“I felt it when she cried over her father’s death. I felt it when she found out she got accepted into med school.” He swallows hard. “I felt it when he proposed to her, and she said yes.”

“Yoongi…”

“But you know what?” he continues, eyes turning fierce as he finally fixates on you. “Feeling her become happy… that was my peace. My soulmate was the happiest she’s ever been when she’s with him.”

You are silent, and Yoongi reaches down to pick up the discarded box. He resumes stacking various CDs and records on the walls and shelves.

“That’s how I know.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You had sat down on the bleachers, gazing out across the football field in front of you. Practice had still gone on for another fifteen minutes, but you knew Jungkook spotted you the moment you stepped near the grass. When he walks off the field, you are waiting for him by the entrance.

“What is it?” He is guarded, and you don’t blame him.

“I just…” You start, but trail off, and his eyes soften. He notices the defeated look in your eyes, but your eyes don’t waver when you stare into his, asking gently, “Do you really think we can really fall in love?”

He falters, his hand coming up to wrap around his wrist and gently touching the golden script. He looks down and traces the letters of your name.

“Of course. We’re soulmates.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

When you announce to your parents that you and Jungkook have begun dating, you can’t help but loathe the way your mother’s eyes light up and how easily your father accepts him into the family. Your friends chatter on excitedly about prom and how the two of you will easily win King and Queen. Jungkook is the star quarterback after all, and your high school is a living cliché, so you don’t doubt that he would get the crown. Everyone accepts you and him together as a pair.

All because of a tattoo.

As you take down the pictures of you and Taehyung and the small mementos in your room—all the things that documented your relationship and remind you of him—you can’t bring yourself to throw them away. So you tuck them into a shoebox and push it into the corner of the tallest shelf in your closet.

However, the vase of dried sunflowers, lavenders, and baby’s breath remains on your desk.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

How do you dress when you’re going out on a date with your best friend? Well, former best friend, but still. Rummaging through your dresser drawers and closet, you try on various outfits before finally opting for a pair of jean shorts and your favorite shirt for a bit of luck. You put on a pair of comfortable shoes before slipping out the door and sitting on the front porch steps, waiting for Jungkook. Your friends have all sent their well wishes and good luck’s to you in the group chat, and you reply to them in the meantime.

“Hey, _______.” Jungkook awkwardly stands in front of you, hands shoved into his jeans pockets. “I was thinking we could go to the arcade?”

“Alright.” You give him a half smile as you stand up, and the two of you begin the walk alongside each other to your destination. You walk in silence, but you feel comfortable, a slight hazy feeling coming into play. There’s something that draws you to him that wasn’t there before, and it slightly unnerves you with how at ease you are just within mere minutes of your date.

Jungkook must have felt the same way because a few seconds later, his hand gently brushes against yours once or twice, before he bravely slips his hand into yours. And they fit perfectly together, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

As if your hand was meant to be held by his.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

A month into your newfound relationship, you find new flowers on your desk.

When you finally reach home after finishing your afterschool club activities, you find Jungkook sitting on your bed, waiting for you like old times. He smiles proudly, greeting you happily, and you are slightly confused until you notice the fresh flowers. Blooming daffodils, daisies, peonies, and roses burst forth in bright colors.

“I thought it’d be a nice surprise if I replaced your flowers… they were all dried and… _______, are you okay? Why are you crying?”

To your surprise, you belatedly realize there are tears slipping down your cheeks, and before you can wipe them away, he stands in front of you, tending brushing them away. The way his fingers gently graze on the apples of your cheeks leave a trail of sparks on your skin, and you can’t bring yourself to push him away. His face is inches from you, and you know he finally registers this fact when his eyes flicker down to your lips, and he swallows nervously. Hesitantly, he slowly leans in, and his lips meld against yours perfectly.

It’s your first kiss with him, and it’s perfect.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE NINETEEN.

Jungkook makes it onto the football team at the university you both decide to attend, and you go to every single home game, sitting in the bleachers alongside your friends and wearing his jersey number. When his team scores the winning touchdown and the game is over, he runs over to you, clambering up the bleachers to meet you, adrenaline still rushing through his veins, as he pulls you in for a kiss with a breathless “I love you” slipped in between.

“My lucky charm,” he affectionately calls you as the two of you celebrate together with the team and their significant others at a nearby diner.

“Kook, it’s all you,” you say, giggling before stealing several fries from his plate. Grabbing an onion ring from your dish in retaliation, he shakes his head. “Nah, it’s because you’re there cheering me on.”

“And you’re here.” He taps his wrist where your name still glimmers like the very first day. “You’re with me on the field, too. My lucky charm.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE TWENTY.

It’s winter break, and with your parents gone for the weekend, Jungkook sleeps soundly next to you. You stare at your phone, watching as the clock ticks down each second from 11:59 p.m. until it hits midnight. Your thumb hovers over ‘send’ button as the simple text message of three words stares back at you.

Happy Birthday, Taehyung.

Jungkook rolls over, wrapping his arm around your waist before pulling you closer to him. He nuzzles his face in your hair before drowsily murmuring, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Kook. Go to sleep,” you whisper, and he curls himself around you even more, nodding off. You take one last look at the message before deleting it and setting your phone on the nightstand next to you.

That night, your dreams are visited by a boy with stars in his eyes and sunflowers tucked in his hair.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE TWENTY-ONE.

The two of you sit across from each other in the café, partaking in another one of your join study sessions. You help him with math, and he helps you with science. It’s a great trade off, save for the fact that Jungkook tries his utmost best to distract you from your work at all times.

“Hey, _______. Give me your hand.”

“Why, so you can give me your hand to hold?” You say absentmindedly as you flip to another page of the chemistry textbook in front of you. Jungkook chuckles, reaching out and taking your hand himself. “No, but if you wanted me to hold your hand, you could’ve just asked.”

“No, I—” You stop yourself as nostalgia from a past familiar memory hits you like a tidal wave. A similar conversation with a different boy replays itself in your mind, and that familiar pang in your heart resurfaces. “Never mind, what is it?”

Jungkook gazes at you with an unreadable expression before brightening up and sliding on a folded paper ring onto your right ring finger. He raises his own hand and wriggles his fingers around to show you a matching one. “Look, I made us couple items. Custom, one of a kind soulmate items!”

You hide a smile. “Is that what you’ve been doing instead of studying?”

“I’m trying to be cute here, and you ruined it,” he whines, frowning, and you laugh before reaching out and squeezing his hand, familiar tingles spreading down from your fingertips, your heart speeding up just a fraction. You feel so, so happy—the happiest you have ever been.

“Thank you, Kook.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

AGE TWENTY-TWO.

The opened envelope produces a creamy white invitation that announces the matrimonial union between Jin and his girlfriend. You stare at it, the RSVP portion laying out in front of you, pen held loosely in your hand. Your mother insisted that you go, while slipping in a thinly veiled hint about how you can learn from it when the time comes for you to plan a perhaps near future wedding.

“Jin’s getting married? We’re going, right?” Jungkook comes up behind you, and you nearly jump out of your skin, the pen clattering onto the counter. Chuckling, he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. You curse the butterflies that still erupt in your stomach every time.

“Y-yeah, I guess we are.” You watch as Jungkook picks up the pen and checks all the boxes before tucking it back into the return envelope. “C’mon, let’s go send this out. Lisa’s been giving me the stink eye ever since I came into your apartment.”

“She’s still mad at you for eating that last slice of cake she was saving last week.”

“I said I was sorry!”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You knew he would be there, but nothing could have prepared you for seeing him again for the first time in so long.

Taehyung stands as best man for his brother, looking as beautiful as ever. It’s been four years, yet he looks the same as he used to, perhaps a little softer around the edges. Your eyes are focused on him throughout the entire ceremony, absorbing in his presence. His hands are clasped in front of him, and you wonder if they are still as soft and warm as they were on the very first day he held your hand. His lips are pulled into a genuine smile, one that you haven’t seen in ages and very dearly miss, as he laughs at the amusing parts of his brother’s written vows. His eyes gleam brighter than ever, like all the stars are captured within them, and your heart aches as you wish, just once, he would glance over in your direction.

When the ceremony is over, Jungkook takes your hand as you walk over to the reception. The two of you drop off your gift before making your way over to the artfully decorated tables, searching for your name cards. As you weave around the tables scanning the place cards, you bump into someone, teetering slightly in your heels, and they quickly grab your arm, steadying you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You laugh a little sheepishly before looking up. Familiar eyes—ones teeming with all the stars and unspoken words—gaze back at you, and suddenly, you forget how to breathe as the air is knocked out of your lungs. Suddenly, you feel like you are fourteen again, a silly teenage schoolgirl stuck on a crush. You are suddenly hyperaware of how his hand gently grasps your elbow still, and how much you miss his warmth when he lets you go.

“It’s okay, sunshine.” His quiet baritone voice is heard before he gives you a soft smile and walks off.

Jungkook squeezes your hand, and startled, you look over at him, still dazed. He purses his lips slightly before saying, “I think our table is over there.”

“Okay.” You follow after him, and the rest of the night passes by quietly.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

We need to talk.

After complete silence from his end for the past few days, the simple text message from your boyfriend filled you with dread, and when you walked through the door of his apartment, the tension was already palpable. You sit down at the kitchen table with an untouched mug of green tea with a teaspoon of honey prepared beforehand for you. He is leaning against the counter, a similar mug placed next to him.

“You’re still in love with him.”

His voice cracks the silence, and you wince as the accusation hangs in the air.

“We barely spoke to each other.”

“God, _______, you didn’t even need to! Literally everyone in the room could tell.” He paces around back and forth. “It was obvious that he still loves you. It was obvious that you still love him!”

You stay silent, angry and sad tears beginning to mingle, and you harshly blink them away. He looks at you, frustrated, as his hand wraps around the mug in front of him tightly. “It took us months, years to get our relationship to where it is now, and he undoes it all in seconds! I don’t understand it! I don’t even know if you love me.”

His voice wavers near the end, and your heart wrenches. You start to speak up, but he shakes his head, forlorn, as he asks quietly, “If the situation was reverse… if I was the one with the red tattoo, would you fight for me, too?”

Your heart clenches in your chest, and you turn away, unable to meet his gaze.

“I see.”

“Kook,” you plead with him softly, “It’s not like that…”

“Then enlighten me please. What’s it really like?”

“You just—you want me to stay with you because of the tattoo, and then, you expect me to stay with you if you didn’t have the tattoo? I don’t understand what you want!” You stand up from the table, the chair making the most horrific screech across the tiled surface.

“I want you to choose me!” Jungkook bursts out, roughly wiping away a stray angry tear. “We both had your name on our wrists, mine was the gold one, yet you still chose him! You always chose him. Even now, you choose him.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Don’t I?” he laughs bitterly, “I’m your soulmate after all. Even if you don’t want me to be, I am. I know you better than anyone else.”

Silence falls like a heavy weight, and neither of you makes a move. The two of you sit there on opposite ends of the table like opposing sides of a chessboard, until you finally crack.

“Jungkook, do you even love me?”

“Of course I love you!” Jungkook raises his voice, frustratingly carding his hand through his hair before his voice softens, “I love you.”

“But why?” you whisper, “Why would you love me?”

“Why?” he repeats incredulously. “Because you’re my soulmate.”

“But, Kook, that’s the thing,” you say softly as you finally look him in the eye. “You love me because I’m your soulmate.

But would you have fallen in love with me if I wasn’t?”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Jungkook finds himself wandering the streets for several hours afterwards, stuffing his hands into his pockets, as he replays your words over and over in his mind. What did you mean by that? He loves you for you because well, you are his soulmate. The universe chose you for him and him for you. The word ‘soulmate’ and you are synonymous. Aren’t they?

When Jungkook looks around, he realizes that his feet had taken him to the front of a very familiar bar. Stepping inside, he is welcomed by Namjoon with a wave and shuffles over to take a seat in front of the dimpled bartender.

“How have you been?” his friend greets him, already pouring out the usual drink order.

“Confused,” he answers honestly. “Joon, what do you think about soulmates?”

Namjoon sets the drink down in front of him. “It’s an interesting system. We’re taught that there is someone out there who’s perfect for you, yet it’s never specified in what way. We all assume it is a romantic bond, but who’s to say it’s not platonic?”

“So you’re saying best friends can be soulmates?”

“Soulmates are about a connection between two people,” he explains, “A soulmate is someone who understands you on the deepest level. Your minds have this unexplainable connection strengthened by mutual respect, understanding, and love. It’s someone who can understand your mind and heart and accepts you for who you are. Whether that is platonic or romantic, I believe it can vary.”

“So then _______ and I were made for each other,” mumbles Jungkook, tracing the rim of his glass absentmindedly. “The universe doesn’t make mistakes.”

“Tell me, Jungkook. What do you think of those with red tattoos?”

“Well, they’re mista—” he cuts himself short, jaw going slack.

“But the universe doesn’t make mistakes,” Namjoon hums as he wipes down the counter.

“They’re meant to be alone then.”

“Then why are they given a tattoo to begin with?”

He falls silent, staring at the amber liquid in front of him. Is it possible to have multiple soulmates? Only one name shows up on your wrist though. Not two. Just one. His.

“But it’s my name on her wrist.”

“Do you love her, Jungkook?”

“Of course I do,” he says, his hands curling into the small fists, “She’s my soulmate.”

“Does she love you?”

“Yes.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because…” He unfurls his hands, small crescent shaped indents now littering his palms. You do love him. But not because of some soulmate tattoo. And he knows that—

“… Because she stayed. Because she loves me enough to stay.”

For all these years, he finally realizes, you did choose him. You chose to stay with him. You chose to be with him.

“But I know she loves him more,” he murmurs. “And I know he loves her, too. He’s been in love with her from the beginning. And that’s what I don’t understand. He had her, and he let her go.”

“Taehyung loves her enough to let her go,” Namjoon muses, tapping his fingers on the scratched wooden surface. He looks at Jungkook, gazing at him with such intensity that the boy, for some reason, cannot look away.

“Do you?”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

When you return to your apartment after your last class the next day, Lisa greets you before gesturing towards the envelope on the counter.

“He left that for you.”

She disappears into her room soon after, and you gingerly pick it up. Opening the envelope, you tip the contents out and find a folded note resting in the palm of your hand. Unfolding the lined paper, you instantly recognize the messy scrawls of handwriting.

Thank you for loving me.

Taped to the bottom is a familiar, well-worn paper ring.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

“Tae!”

You bang on his door loudly. Several minutes pass, but you remain persistent, knocking on the door in rapid succession, until the sound of rushing feet is heard, and the door swings open. Taehyung stands before you, a look of shock quickly morphing into one of concern and confusion.

“What are you doing here? How do you know I’m here?”

“Yoongi finally told me.”

“Sunshine… you shouldn’t be here.” He looks tired, sad, as he retreats back into his apartment, beginning to close the door. “You should go back home. To Jungkook.”

“We broke up.”

His eyes widen. “What? Why?”

“Because I love you.”

The words tumble out of your mouth as you listen to your heart for the first time, rather than your mind, soulmate system be damned. Your heart pounds faster than ever in your chest, blood rushing through your veins, as you stare at the man in front of you.

Taehyung inhales sharply. “Sunshine, you belong with your soulmate, not me.”

“No. No, I don’t belong with someone because of some ink on my wrist. I belong with someone because I choose to be with them. Because I choose to want them. Because I choose to love them.”

You take a step forward, and Taehyung watches you with soft eyes as you gently touch his face, your bodies now millimeters away from each other. There are no sparks, no electricity igniting beneath your fingertips, but you feel a comforting warmth that curls around your heart and makes it bloom.

“I love you, Tae,” you repeat softly, “I’ve always loved you. You’re my first and last.”

So you close the distance and press your lips against his.

You choose the boy with the starry eyes.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

EPILOGUE.

Rays of morning sunlight peek through the gossamer curtains hanging on the windows, creating light patterns upon the duvet. With his arm draped around your waist and his other one resting beneath your head, you are held gently in your husband’s embrace. Still chasing the last remnants of sleep, you drowsily rub your eyes. Tilting your head upwards, the corners of your lips tip upwards into a soft smile at the sight that meets your eyes.

The light hits his face in all the right angles, shining the softest of glows that illuminates his sun kissed skin. It filters through his long, dark eyelashes, casting shadows onto his cheeks. Small puffs of breath escape between his lips with a quiet snore. His hair falls close to his eyes, and you carefully brush the strands away.

“Mama! Daddy!”

A bundle of energy launches herself at the two of you with a squeal. An audible oomph is heard from next to you as you let out a laugh, pulling into your arms the little girl whose eyes mirror her father’s and smile identical to the one on your face.

“Hello, my little munchkin.” She greets you back happily, rubbing her nose against yours in an Eskimo kiss before sloppily placing a kiss on your cheek. You return the gesture, a kiss gently pressed on both of her rosy cheeks, as she giggles before rolling over to her father.

He groans when one of her flying elbows land in his stomach, but he quickly scoops her up, pulling her into his chest. She wriggles out of his embrace in seconds, but her interest is immediately caught onto a tattoo inked upon her father's wrist that's identical to the one on your own skin, and you already know the next words on the tip of her tongue. It is her favorite question to ask every morning after all.

"What do the flowers mean?" she asks, admiring the art etched permanently upon forgotten, faded letters of red and gold. She clutches her father's hand in one hand and your hand in her other, comparing the two tattoos as seriously as any four-year-old can, and you answer her question softly, smiling over at him, as he gazes at you with the same star struck look in his eyes all those years ago.

"They're called lavenders. They stand for devotion."

But they also stand for so much more. And your daughter will learn this when she’s a little older, whether she chooses to follow the tattoo on her wrist or the one on her heart and whether they are one and the same for her.

“The lavenders stand for how much your daddy and I love each other.”

They stand for shared childhood memories that you hold close to your heart. They stand for late night arguments and loud disagreements that end with good night apologies. They stand for hands that do not perfectly fit together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, but still hold onto each other as tightly as possible. They stand for lips that were not made for each other, but still find each other every morning and every night and all the times in between. They stand for the ups and downs you two had to work for to get to where you are now. They stand for your love for each other. Your first and last.

The journey to finding your love was not easy. It was not like the love story of soulmates. It was not simply a change of color to gold. You had to work for your love by learning to understand each other and enduring hardships together. Your love was not built upon the universe's red strings of fate, but instead, upon trust, loyalty, care, and ultimately, devotion. While your love may not be as intense and solid as a soulmate bond, it runs deeper, stronger, more genuine.

Love is not simply a feeling. Love is a choice. It is choosing to work through the difficulties and hardships instead of taking the easier path and walking away. It is choosing to stay. It is choosing each other yesterday, today, tomorrow, and for the rest of your lives.

It may not be as serendipitous and magnificent as walking on cloud nine hand in hand with the one who was named on your wrist, but you don’t care one bit. It doesn’t matter to you. It doesn’t matter at all because he carved out a piece of heaven just for you.

Because Kim Taehyung takes you to cloud ten.

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ddaenghoney · 5 years ago

Text

chapter thirteen

masterlist link in blog description.

As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.

Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N

disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.

Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)

Chapter warning(s): lot of manipulative aspects in conversation.

Word count: 5133

if you enjoy please, please let me know!

Jimin finds himself contemplative. Standing motionless outside of the elevator, he looks on at the button to call for it still unlit due to his lack of movement. He’s supposed to hit the downwards facing arrow, earlier intending to work on choreography before the instructor arrived to work on finalization and moving on to the next song’s dance. But he doesn’t click the button, finding himself uncertain if he wanted to do that or follow the teeming sensation in his head to hit the button that would send him upwards.

He sighs, shaking his head and thinking about the ridiculousness of him just standing there. Rather than mull around in his thoughts it’d be more useful to do practically anything else, so he impulsively reaches to click a button. Stepping back, Jimin rubs his jaw, eyes glancing back down the hallway towards Yoongi’s studio.

For a second your simple sentence registers in his ears. A thanking comment that you didn’t have to say, especially considering how lackluster his involvement really was in the situation. Yoongi did more for you, and, had Jimin not spoken up in the midst of his annoyance overflowing out of his mouth, Yoongi likely would’ve said more. He clearly wanted that producer to stop being disrespectful to you.

Jimin falters at the memory, hand trailing to mess around with his hair as he thinks about your avoidance from the area by entrance into Yoongi’s studio. Not having to ask permission, it was simply granted to you, where it’s commonly understood by the majority of employees in the company that Yoongi hasn’t simply become comfortable with everyone to act like that. While he’s definitely polite and civil, there’s undoubtedly a line between himself and the original employees of SoundWave. Meanwhile, you’re an exception to the fact.

He bites his lip, attempting to silence the jealousy that he doesn’t have a right to feel strongly about anymore. Jimin made the choice to create a rift between the two of you, and there’s no sense in him trying to find away back across it anymore. The gap is too foundationally damaged with nothing in sight to fix its stability in a long-lasting way.

He enters the elevator, thoughtlessly clicking a floor number as he steps away from the couple of people also inside. Watching the stories climb, he tries to think about the future comeback he’s working on. There’s still much to record, but with the title track completed and choreography being mastered for it, Jimin finds the date of release running towards him at a speedy pace.

Another album to drop without his creative input poured into it in the way that you and other producers have worked so hard for him and every other artist. His name next to tracks, on the album cover, face in advertisement, and nothing in his heart to solidify the bond between himself and the music. The thought didn’t occur to him so strongly before, but now that he doesn’t see your happiness in showing him songs you’ve created, he can’t find anything exciting about the prospect of release.

Jimin can’t watch you pour emotion onto paper, or listen to the untamed ramblings of you passionately explaining songs given to other artists. He has to corrupt your meaning to come up with his own, behind lyrics he would have never written himself. He wants to scream onto pages with ink in the way you have. The scribbles in notebooks at his apartment and lines saved into his phone’s notes cling to the hope of further work, but wear away in abandonment. They aren’t enough.

Jimin steps out of the elevator, head bowing as Yerin’s secretary notices him. The button he pressed dragged him upwards in another attempt. Like his last visit, Jimin is unannounced, causing the lady greeting him to smile with apprehension of what he wanted. He could’ve succumbed and hid away in the lower basement levels where the dance studios are, but he’s on the top of the building again.

“Is she in?”

It takes a hesitant affirmative and a few more slowly spoken sentences for Jimin to be left standing in front of the secretary’s desk as she pages into the office. He didn’t have a reason to come up here this time. About a week earlier he had the faintest plan of asking permission to work with a producer on a small independent whim. Now he walks into the CEO office without a plan at all, uncertain of what he actually wants if he gives himself a moment to be honest with himself.

“Jimin,” Yerin greets the unassuming man as he carefully shuts the door behind him. Her eyes remain fixed on her computer as she types quickly, eyes unhindered by his presence. “Take a seat, this won’t take me long.”

Jimin does as she says, forgetting to nod his head as a response. He considers the implication of him coming here again so soon, wondering why he felt so impulsively moved to go and speak to Yerin again. The clutter of his head feels entirely unprocessed, but he thinks of you.

Recalling the hurt in your expression when he told you that he can’t accept what you wanted changed in your contract, Jimin sits with his hands meshed together, silently thinking about how he found himself so afraid to tell you that.

He knew completely that you wouldn’t be able to accept him staying beside you with an opposing perspective, because Jimin knows that despite all the crap that SoundWave gives you that you still understand the worth of what you do underneath all of your own insecurity of how to go about getting what you want. He didn’t want to lose you, but in agreement he’d lose everything he had worked for. However, the fact is that in so many ways what Jimin has was built for him. Jimin bites his lip, thinking that beside his own selfishness, he should’ve supported you.

The news of your leave comes to the forefront of Jimin’s mind. Rumors similar to the producer’s indignant comments swarmed the halls since the day of, but all cleared in front of him by your defiant statement that you quit. Splitting from the path you were on to start creating your own, you gave the greatest shock to the company. Even the tiny inklings shoved into the bottom of Jimin’s conscious, didn’t think you’d ever go this far when nothing outside of your choice is clear.

“Now then.” Yerin stops typing, shifting her chair to face Jimin directly as his eyes lift up to her. The person you overcame despite her chilling methodologies keeping the company arranged in perfect order. “What brings you here?”

“Y/N’s quitting.” Jimin’s voice speaks as small as he feels compared to Yerin and you. Obviously she knows this, and it isn’t something he should come from out of nowhere to restate unless looking for an argument, but his head didn’t consider words. Just the fact that there’s a crack where fingertips can reach through layers of deceptively bright veiling curtains.

The very corner of Yerin’s lip slides into a frown, the hand on her desk curling into an arch as the random sentence remains in the air without an addition. She notes an absence of apprehension in Jimin’s eyes as he stares back at her in the way one does after a realization. “She decided not to continue with the company, that’s correct.”

An evident erasure of any spite is removed from her tone, but not the gleam in Yerin’s eyes that Jimin sees through. Knowing she’s already irritated from your situation-- from losing control in the largest hidden piece to SoundWave. She’s good at hiding it to remain mostly poised.

“This means things are going to change.” Knowingly said. Not an observation, a promise. Jimin doesn’t smile, but his expression appears to be uplifted. Yerin’s hand curls more, fingers colliding with her palm, trying to find clairvoyance to study him, but his reaction is opposite of anything she expected to hear from Jimin concerning your leave.

“You’re not upset.” Yerin finds herself speaking the oddness aloud, not realizing so until she closes her mouth following the sentence. Appearing like a dissimilar person to the one she knows, Jimin pauses only for a moment, before air escapes his mouth in the smallest of laughs. Surprised as well.

“I know how much everything here rides on her.” He says, eyes casting down in consideration of everything you’ve accomplished for SoundWave. A gentle smile slips onto his expression, “I’ve been terrified of her getting sick of the crap she gets here.” He doesn’t miss a beat to rephrase himself, just sitting back into his seat while Yerin’s eyes follow his movements through a hardened gaze.

“Because you would never stop telling me how I’d never make it without her doing everything in the background. For years now that’s the only stance you’ve had, no matter how much I expressed how willing I was to do things for myself. It’s just always been you telling me no. That I’m not good enough-- that it’s not worth the risk.”

“It isn’t.” Yerin speaks up, sighing to refrain from clicking her tongue. She rolls her shoulders to sit up properly, speaking fluidly and without tact, “Your purpose here is for singing, dancing-- being the face of the Jimin persona the public want. Your artistry as a producer of any kind isn’t fruitful to take a risk in when you weigh it against people with endowed talent like Y/N and other producers in the company. This isn’t just about you Jimin. At the end of the day, what sells is more important than your desire to try your hand at songwriting.”

“She’s leaving.” Jimin says, words exiting his mouth with an audible grain of discontentment, that alters into rising frustration, “You’ve made it so she has nothing if she were to quit and she still has. You can’t rely on her to keep everything here functioning like it has-- it would only make sense that you change how things are handled and give the artists--” Jimin straightens from his chair, shoulders stiffening as he practically pleads through biting words, “Give me an opportunity to actually do what everyone out there thinks I do.”

Jimin remains still, watching for any reaction of his words, but Yerin only stares in a calmly pensive manner. No irritation of his outspoken demands, not even shock from his voice’s unintentional rise in volume from his emotions. Jimin keeps himself from faltering, thinking its best to remain firm no matter how long she appears to consider his words in silence.

“This isn’t entirely my decision to have the artists from creating their own music. It’s the board’s collective agreement to produce whatever will sell best from experience.” Cool words ease into the room, her fist uncurling so that her index finger can tap the quietest of beats against her desk. Yerin examines Jimin, finding him absent of a response yet. She shrugs a shoulder once, “To be completely honest with you, I’d rather go back to make a new deal with Y/N than give every artist a sudden opportunity at self-production, but she’s set in her ways.”

“She deserves better than what she gets here.” Jimin speaks without hesitation, though a piece of his mind becomes inquisitive as a faint smirk grows on Yerin’s face.

“And you don’t? Your contract ends at the end of the year.” She says, voice more sly than Jimin has ever heard. “Why not just leave at the end of it too?”

Jimin’s eyebrows crease in surprise, staying quiet while he tries to consider what she means. He catches the sound of his heart once and then it stays in his ears, feeling as though he’s done something wrong. He hadn’t considered his disposability. But that’s a factor isn’t it, one that should’ve crossed his mind, and maybe in a normal train of thought it would’ve. In other situations maybe he’s had the warning in the back of his mind that they could simply get rid of him since he’s replaceable. Replaceable. The word repeats with his heart, making Jimin bite on his inner cheek.

“You’re a liability to other companies.” Yerin leans her chin against her hand, watching him boredly. Her expression different from calm, similar to apathetic instead. “Your career is what it is because of how you’ve been marketed, conceptualized, created-- all synthetic.” Her finger continues a tap that’s out of beat from the way Jimin feels his heart, out of sync, creating a disarrayed ambiance. “You aren’t anything without what we make for you, Jimin.”

Her words send Jimin’s memories back, to every other instance of conversation with her privately for the past five years. The insinuations varying in how opaquely they’re depicted, but also equating to the strings attached to his performances on stage. How crafted his public persona is. Yerin’s reminders that he’s the face alone, and all else is because of collaborated work behind the scenes. Telling him again and again, if Y/N leaves his career could shatter right along with it.

“Just because Y/N leaves doesn’t mean we can alter the entirety of how the company operates. That’s like asking for public scrutiny.” She exhales, rolling her shoulders again in a relaxed manner. Jimin’s eyes don’t leave her, too frozen like suffocation. “Maybe if you left together with her, you could’ve made something, but from the looks of things that’s not something I need to be concerned about, or else you would’ve submitted resignation the same day she did.”

Jimin wonders how you were able to walk off without anyone. Under Yerin’s gaze and the tangling of her words, Jimin feels no freer than usual. Then he realizes that what she says is valid. You’re the one with talent. Yerin knows he can’t leave on his own because of that. Nothing on his own, Jimin is just what they’ve made. Like Yerin has always told him.

Making him align with the company’s perspective to keep your desires subdued. Tricked perhaps, but it’s true that a collapse without you is possible. An engrained thought.

Jimin sits back in the chair, eyes glancing from her to a random point in space in front of his legs. There’s no tension in his body, but he feels as though he’s lost.

---

You stretch your legs, sock-clad feet lying atop the opposite armrest. Staring up towards the ceiling, you let a song play through your ears for the fifth time in a row, while your fingers tap softly along to the beat where they rest on the pillow you clutch against your stomach. The airpods aren’t soundproof like the headphones Yoongi uses when editing, so the typing of his fingers on the computer keyboard ring in the back of your mind. You barely notice when the monotonous sound breeches your concentration on the finalized version of the first song you worked on with him, but you find difficulty in ignoring when he starts typing again after abrupt pauses to take curious glances back in your direction.

“You know, I’m not really upset about that producer--he’s always been like that about my job.” You say plainly, unlocking your phone to pause the song, realizing that the comment would result as it does in Yoongi spinning halfway on his chair to better face you. “I kind of figured people would start rumors anyways.”

“Then maybe I’m more annoyed with that guy than you are.” A tiny sheepish curl begins at the corners of his lips, prompting an endeared smile on your own expression as you eventually shrug. “When did you start hearing the conversation?”

“About whenever he called out to Jimin.” You sit upwards on the couch, tossing the small pillow to the table and pulling your legs up to your chest so your chin can situate on your knees. “I thought he was going to notice me, but he looked in the other direction.” A small scoff escapes your lips sounding like a bitter amusement in Yoongi’s ears. Yoongi’s head nods slightly as he stands up to his feet, strolling to sit on the couch where your legs had occupied prior. “You sounded mad-- I would’ve been scared if I was him.”

Yoongi sighs at the memory of his tone, covering his slightly embarrassed smile with his hand as he rubs his face, sinking further back into the couch. You giggle at his reaction, lightly bumping the tip of your foot against his thigh to tease him. “Who wouldn’t? What a way to get information-- trying to get it through me,” He mumbles his words with his bottom lip prominently poking with his words, “In the first place I wasn’t going to let him say whatever about you anyways. Especially not go around saying you got fired.”

“Yeah,” Your eyes glow happily like your expression as you watch him talk. Yoongi shrugs, crossing his arms to keep himself quiet at risk of sounding silly. “Thank you, Yoon. It made me happy to hear you defend me like that, honestly.” You bite your lip to refrain from more laughter as he just shrugs again and purses his lips together in a muted satisfied smile. “Really I am!” You go on thinking his shy disposition is cute, but Yoongi only nods, mumbling in a joking way,

“Yeah, such a genuine way to thank someone.” He knows you’re speaking with sincerity, but he teases in return just concluding that you may try again with a higher-pitched voice to get him to believe you. Yoongi’s head turns to you as you shift on the couch, curiously raising an eyebrow as you simply crawl the pace to him and tug him into a hug,

“Thank you,” The final syllable trails on in a whine, as Yoongi laughs outright in response to your attempt to get him to stop pouting. His arm as well goes to wrap around your waist, unintentionally nudging you beneath the curve of your side prompting you to suddenly jerk. Pulling him back with you, Yoongi’s upper body lands on yours as you make a squeak of shock from being tickling and fall backwards onto the couch. “Don’t tickle me; I’m trying to be nice and thank you.”

“Accident,” He chuckles, adjusting himself into a less awkward angle as your hugging arms around his ribcage tighten warningly as though you attempt to get revenge. “What are you trying to do; wrestle me to apologize, angel?” Yoongi laughs, listening to your abrupt voice dismissing the idea sheepishly. “If we’re trying to replay the nap from the other day then maybe I should set an alarm since you fell asleep instead of waking me up.”

“How dare you call me out.” You can’t help but grin in embarrassment as he laughs, both recalling the hour nap that ran closer to three. “You made me fall asleep too.” Helpless mumbling excuses leave your lips, while Yoongi makes a disapproving whine at the passing of blame. “Also, how come you get to lie on me again? What if I want a pillow?”

“You threw the pillow onto the table.” He says bluntly, flicking his chin in the direction, as his waist wiggles to break free of the hug. You let out a single laugh, having forgotten that fact entirely and feel silly about his reminder. “But fine, since you’re complaining,” Yoongi’s voice trails off, simply taking a grip on either of your shoulders to bring you along with him as he lays his head on the opposite armrest.

Catching up with the altered positions, you feel a blush creeping along your cheeks while Yoongi’s arms lazily encompass your waist, leaving your face hidden from his sight as you situates against his chest. Biting your lip, you try not to think too much about the placement of your hands, but are at a loss of knowing where to put them. As your ears catch the faint melody of his heartbeat, you feel able to relax just the same with the weight of your forearms flattening also on his torso.

“Comfy?” The faint coarseness of Yoongi’s voice sounds mostly relaxed and gentle, but the questioning tone is genuine. You think even a little nervous that he did something wrong, but your head properly nestling against him relieves most of that worry. Evaporating it in entirely as your voice trickles peacefully,

“Yeah, very.” You don’t think he’s serious about taking a nap, considering the later hour of the afternoon and that you both would likely leave for the day soon. Nonetheless, not an ounce of energy in your body gives you the idea of scooting away from him. Too relaxed with in the warmth of Yoongi’s arms and gentle sway of your head rising and lowering from his even breaths, you lie enjoying the moment. Your hands twitch in little movements as indecision in your head goes back and forth, but eventually you ease them around Yoongi’s waist as well. Satisfied with the action as he shifts up only enough for you to hug onto him as he is to you.

“Maybe it’s not something for me to say, but I’m really proud of you for talking back to that guy, angel.” Yoongi admits softly, glancing as you wiggle a little and squeeze your arms tighter around him. Stifling any chuckling, he sees the faintest of rose decorating your complexation, and rubs his hands along your back, smiling as he questions, “What? You were cool.”

“Stop,” You laugh slightly, then sigh, “I was just annoyed. I don’t know.” Your cheek presses against Yoongi as you reconsider your actions, “I didn’t really feel scared or anything though… It felt kind of easy to speak-- defend myself, actually.”

“That’s good.” Yoongi smiles, letting his neck relax so his eyes can find the ceiling while he goes on, “I think you’re a strong person. Even if things are hard for you, you still do what’s best for yourself.”

“Whatever that is.” You mumble, not intending to discredit Yoongi’s words, because they really made you feel better about it all. Still you can’t help wonder about the future when the present seems so mixed up.

“Things will work out.” He replies simply, knowing it’s not a secure comfort. They’re ultimately just words with only what Yoongi knows about you to make up their validity, but in some ways he believes the simpleness is closer to what you would like to hear. Rather than dedicate paragraphs to idealistic scenarios, he supports you in a genuine sentiment enshrouded with the security of holding you in his arms.

Though there are ways for him to help you in a more pressing way. The idea of it is practically rebellious to the structure of his public persona, but the care of it bothers him less in the moment than it did when he rambled his worries to Hoseok. At the forefront of his mind is your situation, but also all of the potential associated with the idea. The small piece of it that could work for both of you even.

“I was thinking a lot lately,” Yoongi draws out the sentence, hesitant of the words due to their likelihood to change the temperment of the moment. But the rumor of you getting fired plays through his head, as well as the other instances of unfair treatment you’ve received. How you’re willing to leave with nothing. You hum for him to continue, your body completely lazed into his own. “If you want to, I want to release those songs we made together.”

There’s a beat of quiet, then you’re breeching away to support yourself on your arms. Looking down at Yoongi in an incredulous calm, your eyes narrow thinking you didn’t hear him correctly. He can’t help but smile up at you, finding your bewildered small frown endearing, but says again, easier now that it’s been said once, “I want to release them. Independently from my brand; just as Yoongi. With your name there too.”

“You’ll,” You stutter, still thrown off from the prospect, and the air in your throat hitching because of mention at your name being put beside something you’ve worked on. “You’ll get in trouble though, Yoon. I don’t want you to get in trouble for me.” You frown, wishing that you could say yes as instantaneously as he probably hoped for you to.

Yoongi’s undeterred by your response, hands running tiny slow streams along your back still to give a moment of calm. “I’ve released stuff independently before, angel. They don’t mind.”

“But they will if my name’s in there.” You swallow thickly, frown growing into more worry as your eyes deflect from his as you think of reprimand that would come his way undoubtedly.

“You’re not renewing your contract. They can’t stop you from doing what you want.” He strays a hand from your back to find your cheek, gently coaxing you to look back towards his eyes. Yoongi notices the evident spike of worry for his career, finding it similar to what he thought of his own career when Hoseok was going through his scandal. Then unwilling to help because of the risk. “Frankly, I don’t really care anymore if this company wants to get mad at me. My last one already stopped me from helping one friend when I could’ve, and I’m not going to let this one do it again.”

For a second you think that Yoongi’s desire to help you out is your fault for always bring your troubles into his life. That you’ve made him feel obligated. But you realize you’ve never indicated that you wanted to release the music. You didn’t join in collaboration with him under the pretense that you could find a way to drop the music into the public-- it was just his offer to give you an outlet when you originally were sad. But it became three songs before either of you realized. Never a discussion of release, and you didn’t expect anything because of a predisposed view you’ve grown used to.

“I want to.” Yoongi tells you softly, his eyes inspecting your expression as you feel a shift from worry into something different. He watches the space below your eyes, thumb brushing along your cheek to collect a tiny tear, and he notices your jaw appears to be clenched like you’re holding back. A faint smile drifts onto his face, “Do you?”

“I,” You try to speak, only becoming conscious of the tears Yoongi’s already aware of when they drip away because of your speech. An obscure mixture of anticipation fights with pessimism about his idea. “I feel like I shouldn’t be allowed to say yes.”

“You can if you want.” Yoongi says, brushing away more of the conflicted tears and catching you against his chest when you huddle back against him. “You don’t have to right now, either though. Just know that if you decide you want to release them, we can.”

“Even if it’ll get you in trouble though, Yoon?” You mumble in a more tamed worry, shifting in belief that maybe you could take a hold of this option that he’s willing extending you.

“Yeah, sweetie. I don’t mind that.” He listens to you groan against his chest, but just rubs your back to soothe any worries. His shoulders startle stiff when you lift your head up once more to look him in the eyes,

“You’re insane. You’re too nice, Yoongi.” Your voice is high like when you tease him or ramble about things you’re surprised about. He just shrugs, head tilting and only offering a smile in return. “You,” Frowning towards him, you wonder shortly why he always has to witness tears escaping your eyes to the point that you can’t even find yourself embarrassed about it. “You make me so happy.”

The shift in your voice to a small whisper leaves Yoongi quiet. Given the context of the conversation the admission is a bit nonsensical, only serving to create flurries in his ribcage. An earlier thought of hoseok’s words replay in his heads about Yoongi being fond of you, and it leaves him a little stunned in reaction to how you appear in his eyes. Yoongi opens his mouth a little to speak but finds no words coming out, silenced further by your curling smile.

“You know that you don’t have to feel like you need to help me, right?” You speak as through searching for doubt, but Yoongi instantly shakes his head. Curtly responding,

“I don’t. I help you because I want to.” More than that, but his mind doesn’t catch a particular word as he watches you rub your eyes from the previous evidence of surprise about his idea. His hands slide from a hug, settling to gently hold onto the sides of your waist, finding himself struck by enamor as you softly laugh.

“I wonder why-”

“I care about you.” Yoongi maintains eye contact as he blurts into your sentence, remaining serene like voice as you drop your hands from your face back to his chest. Looking down you take a moment to consider the intention of his words, unable to ignore the fervent tone despite his low voice. “We’ve gotten really close this year; why wouldn’t I want to help you?”

“Because I act like I need it every other second,” You murmur mostly teasing to which Yoongi rolls his eyes. Not having that thought for even a second. You giggle, reaching your hand to play with his hair and soothe his suddenly sour expression at your joke. “You mean it about wanting to release the songs?”

“Yes.” He nods, humored by the way you stare at him to search for even a hint that he’s unsure.

“You really mean it-”

“Angel,” He sighs, smiling at the singsong voice you ask again with. Squeezing your waist, Yoongi nods his head, “I thought about it a lot before today. I mean it.”

Your lips purse into a line. Knowing full well that Yerin would be angry the second those songs are sent out, you’re still hesitant. Granted the spiteful part of you finds the prospect of irritating her amusing, but not at all at the expense of Yoongi’s reputation within the company or otherwise. But if he’s the one presenting the idea, stating over and over again that he’s okay with it, you’re inclined to acknowledge that he knows what the idea could mean for him. And he’s still willing to do it.

“Okay, then.” Your heart thrums at Yoongi’s eyes widening slightly from your approval, but the quickly expanding smile on his face is hopeful so you succumb to a mirroring it. “Let’s release them.”

if you enjoy please, please let me know via ask, comment, rb with tags– however ! i’d just really appreciate feedback 🥺 i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : )

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galahadwilder · 6 years ago

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We Are Miraculous, Ch. 3: Assemble

This chapter was sponsored by @thecorruptedhuman. Sponsor a fic chapter here!

We Are Miraculous Archive

With thanks to @alexseanchai and @paganinpurple

This may well be the worst morning of Adrien Agreste’s life. And he's had a lot of bad mornings.

His hands haven’t shaken this badly since the day he realized his mother wasn’t coming back. Every single sense is cranked up to twelve: he can feel every itchy, excruciating fiber of the clothes against his skin, the babble of the classroom and the whine of the fans in every electronic device assaults his ears, every blinking light tries to snatch his attention. He’s on the verge of another of what his mother always called his “episodes” in an exasperated tone—there’s a brief memory of her tearing up, asking if he can’t just once not overreact to such inconsequential things. He still doesn’t understand why it’s so hard for him to control. And his father refuses to acknowledge it.

Caron Questions Hero’s Qualifications After Shocking Confession from Ladybug

Adrien wants to scream. He wants to vomit. He knows that, right now, his Lady is seeing the same headline he is. He knows that, despite her incredible strength, there are places where she is fragile. He knows that right now she must be breaking. She needs him, she needs him and he can’t get to her, and everything’s too loud and too close.

Marinette is okay at least, Alya is taking care of her. Adrien wishes he could have helped but right now he’s an upside-down remote control car, wheels spinning uselessly in the air as he rocks in the mud. He hugs his chest, holding onto his biceps—he's rocking slightly in his chair, trying not to lose control. You're better than this, he thinks, in a voice that sounds very much like his mother's, trying to help him past an episode. You're stronger than this. You're not gonna get overwhelmed—

"Adrien," Nino says, very softly. It layers on top of everything else, but thinly, barely a push on top of all the rest of the things screaming for his attention. Adrien turns his head, looks at Nino's collarbones—can't meet his eyes right now. Too hard. Too—Adrien doesn't know the word.

Nino is holding a mechanical pencil; Adrien's not quite sure where he got it, he doesn't use them. He quickly and calmly disassembles it, laying the pieces out in front of Adrien.

Adrien blinks, and then his hands reach out and twist the top of the pencil back onto the body, and all of the lights and noises assaulting his senses begin to quiet down. He slides the eraser tube back into the pencil. The buzzing from the overhead lights is still there, but he can push it back now, ignore it. He can hear Madame Bustier's lecture again without it being garbled.

He clicks the pencil once, twice, three times, then pushes the lead back in so it's short enough not to snap when he writes. How did you know that would work? he scribbles on the edge of his notebook, not even bothering to put in the (usually painful) effort it takes to make his handwriting legible, much less the "elegance expected of an Agreste."

Miraculously, somehow, Nino can read it. He snaps the cap of his pen back and forth with his thumb, then scratches out a message on his own notebook—Chris does the same thing.

Adrien nods and tries to hand the pencil back to Nino, but Nino shakes his head, pushing it back. "You gotta fidget," he whispers.

Adrien takes the pencil back, confused; but by the time class lets out for lunch and he's disassembled and reassembled the pencil enough times that he's lost track of the number, he thinks he might be starting to understand.

"Hey Lila?" Alya says as they're getting up for lunch. "Uh... what happened to your hair?"

Adrien—along with the rest of the class—turns to look, but he can't see what Alya's talking about; Lila's hair looks pretty normal to him. Everyone else in the class looks confused too.

Lila reaches up to paws desperately at her scalp. "No, no, no," she whispers. "Alya, is there something in my hair?"

Alya blinks. "Oh, um, no, it's nothing!" she giggles. "Looks nice."

Adrien can't quite tell if she's being sarcastic. He suspects it, yeah, but anyway that's not important right now.

"Nino," he says as he stuffs his backpack, "I've got something kind of urgent I gotta do for the next few minutes. I'll meet you in the park in ten?"

Nino tilts his head, pursing his lip. "Yeah, sure," he says, mercifully not asking what it is that Adrien is doing, which is good because he hadn't planned out a lie and he's not great at coming up with them on the spot.

On the roof of the school, Chat Noir paces, staring at the screen of his baton-phone. Is now a bad time to call? What if she's mad at him for it? What if she hasn't seen the headline yet and he causes a panic attack?

He presses call.

"Kitty?" Her voice comes through the speakers clear as magic, high and soft and calm, and his lungs unwind from where they've tightened themselves around his heart, finally allowing him to breath again. "You okay?"

He slumps against the roof access door. "Actually, I was gonna ask you that," he says. "I, um, I saw the..."

Ladybug sighs. "The op-ed."

"Yeah." He licks his lips. "I'm—I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you. When, you know, when you saw it. This morning."

"Oh, Chaton," she says with a sad chuckle. "I know." He hears her snort. "I know you'd have been there if you knew who I was, but—"

"You two should kiss!" shouts another voice from the same line, much quieter and much farther away.

"Shut up, Rena!" Ladybug giggles.

Chat straightens at the sound of her laugh. "You're not alone," he says, smiling.

"Yeah," Ladybug says. "I... kind of accidentally blew my identity to Rena last night, so she found me this morning as soon as the article came out. Took care of me for a bit."

Chat's chest falls. "Oh," he says. "That's... that's good." He's glad she had somebody with her, but...

Evidently she hears the hurt in his voice."You know I would've told you first if I thought it was safe," she says. "If it had been intentional—"

There's jostling on the other end of the line, a quick give me that and a hands off before Rena's voice is coming out of the speaker. "I only found out by accident," she says. "And a little detective work. Can confirm, she didn't mean for it to happen."

Chat's ribcage loosens a bit again. "Oh," he says.

"If I'd had a choice it would've been you!" he hears Ladybug call towards the phone, and his heart leaps.

"Listen," Rena says. "I have an idea. Do you know where the Lycée François Dupont is? Ground zero for Horrificator, Reflekta, and Zombizou?"

Chat raises an eyebrow and looks down at that very school under his feet. "I'm... familiar, yeah," he says.

"Meet us on the roof after school lets out," Rena says. "We've got a message for Caron and we need you to help us deliver it."

"Yeah?" Chat says, rising to his feet.

"Yeah," Rena says. "No matter what: we stand with Ladybug."

We Are Miraculous Archive

Enjoy my writing? Buy me a coffee!

@not-a-welcome-matt @depressed–and–underdressed @peregrer@me4ml @bighgbrother @sparklyaxolotlstudent @mewwitch @tinyterror333 @themacbethslayer @callmequoteman @boopboopitydoop @adashofaroace @lexysama @tourettesservicedog @fandoms-are-for-always @valentine1604 @whimsicallyconfusedforlife @happymonster-pants @mysticsoulgirl @lunab00 @weirdflyingpotato @ariana-the-fangirl @unsung-knight @absolutelycoathangered @melicmusicmagic @happymonster-pants @junipernight @miraculousl4dybug @not-a-welcome-matt @alyas-ladyblog @angelofthequeers @whatsdisshiz @random-blog-i-cant-delete @aerequets @yin-390 @zebrabaker @thecorruptedhuman

#we are miraculous #original content #my fic #adrien agreste #autistic adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #ladybug #lila rossi #rena rouge #fanfic #fanfiction #ml fanfic

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gtseven7 · 5 years ago

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My Seven Idols

this is the picture mentioned in the story

Summary:

Got7 as highschoolers as they deal with graduation and college at the same time starting up their own Youtube channel as idols.

A/N:

So this is chapter 1. Really, I wasnt supposed to write this thing but it has been bugging me for months and I just cant shake it off okay? I tried resisting thinking, dude you're on your way to the juicy parts of Seven Princes. But whelp I lost a battle within myself and wrote this anyway. I hope you guys like it!

masterlist

//prev

The click-clacking of the keyboard echoed in the room as Y/N furiously typed the remaining subtitle of the video she had been editing the last few nights. Hitting the export button, the brunette could finally exhale and relax. The beach aesthetic video she had been working on was now in the process of being complete. She just has to wait till it loads to a hundred and her hard work will pay off. Smiling to herself, she minimized the editing software and opened up her InstaBook. She scrolled leisurely, seeing the pictures of her peers and some from her photographer idols. Y/N was examining an aesthetic cityscape picture from one of her favorite photo blogs, Def, when her notification alerted her of a great news. Ding! And the words that popped up from the right corner of her screen made her screech. As it was almost midnight, she had to restrain herself and not wake her parents. But she can’t help the giggle that escaped her mouth. She quickly clicked the pop up. It said: pjy_01 updated his profile picture. When the picture loaded, Y/N's jaw almost unhinged. Park Jinyoung a.k.a. Mr. Student Council President rarely posts a picture of himself. His feed was usually just books, food and random sceneries. He did have few self-taken pictures and Y/N was happy with it (some of them are really just bad quality but she’ll take it) but this one? This one’s just beautiful, amazing, gift from the heavens. He was sitting on a comfy white couch, staring directly at the camera with puppy eyes. His white button up was slightly unbuttoned(!!) as he wore an innocent face and a cute peace sign as a cherry on top. Y/N was just about to scream and jump around. But before that, she made sure to save the picture in her Jinyoung Stash folder. “Woah. What is this Jinyoung? You should always post things like this. I’ll be a happy woman.” She sighed dreamily, staring at her screen but missed the notification of her software that finished exporting her video.

Y/N was rudely interrupted when her phone suddenly rang. Not even looking at the caller id, she answered the call with an annoyed tone. “What?” No one would be phoning her at this time other than her best friend. “Yo chill out Y/N.” Youngjae laughed at the other end, knowing he most likely disturbed her from her hobby. Which isn’t entirely false, he just didn’t know that the hobby at the moment was staring at their president and not videography. ”It’s midnight Youngjae, what do you need?” She elicited another hearty laugh from the guy. Any other circumstance, she’ll laugh along since his laugh is contagious but this time was not it. “Well?”

“Geez, aren’t you such a joy tonight. I’m just gonna ask if you already finished the essay homework due tomorrow.”

Blank silence. It was then that Y/N laughed at the ridiculing situation. Homework? Was there ever one? And she voiced it out, still half cheerful and half threatening. Youngjae might be pranking her once again. “The essay homework Mr. Kwon asked us to do. The one about Romeo and Juliet. Don’t tell me you don’t remember?” Youngjae chuckled a little too, thinking that his friend was making fun of him. When the only sound he heard was the bark of his cute dog Coco beside him, Youngjae started to sweat. “You haven’t done a single thing didn’t you?!”

“I think I’m gonna puke. Youngjae-ahh~ What do I do?!”

Y/N's eyes bugged out, realizing that yes, there is indeed an essay due tomorrow. And it is for Mr. Kwon’s subject, her most feared teacher. Oh how that teacher terrifies her whole being. How could she be so stupid?! “Youngjae!!! What do I do? What do I do?!” Panic was starting to rise from her gut, her heart beating too fast that even midnight coffee can’t do. Add the obvious panic in her bestfriend’s voice on the other end, it made things worse for her. “I don’t know! Uh… I can lend you mine? Just modify some parts. Paraphrase things…”

“Oh my God Youngjae I love you. You’re the best!!”

“You owe me one Y/N.”

“I do, I do. Thanks so much.”

They bid goodnight to each other, Youngjae promising to pick her up from her house so she won’t be late; she once again praised his goodness before hanging up. And as promised, he sent her his homework, Jinyoung’s picture on her screen forgotten. Y/N once again typed relentlessly through the night.

“I bet Jinyoung never had a problem like this. Y/N you must do better!”

That motivation fueled her to write the essay about Romeo and Juliet even if she didn’t understand what it was about aside from it being a romance story. Little did the sophomore videographer know, her high pedestaled president sat on his chair under the dim light of his study desk at the same time as her. He was hunched in concentration on the essay he stalled on doing days before it was to be submitted.

No words flowed, his pen stuck mid-air. “Argh. What the heck is this shit about anyway?” Jinyoung huffed as he crumpled his nth paper and tossed it in the bin beside him. His brain was not cooperating with him that night and it’s just frustrating. Why does he have to explain why the economy of their country is not thriving as it used to? It’s just plain bullshit to be honest. He had mountains of council work the past few days and he wasn’t able to attend few classes including the class he was supposed to write this essay for. This is why he hates skipping, when things like this essay arrive, he doesn’t know what to do. He didn’t have time to read up everything that’s why he just went straight to bluffing his way out of the conclusion of the paper. The distracting noise of the instrument app on Jaebeom’s phone didn’t help him much either. “You have your own room, your own bed. Why are you always here?” His housemate just shrugged and continued his melody making. It was sounding good to be honest, not that his friend ever made a bad song but the other’s process was just making the writing too difficult for him. “How can I even finish when you distract me like this?”

“One, Jinyoung, it was your fault for not doing it earlier. Two, you are not distracted by my music. You just don’t want to do that stupid paper.”

And it hit him too well. He’s right. Most times, Jaebeom’s music calms him but this time his brain just straight up refuses to do a thing. His long haired companion exited the app after saving his work. Jaebeom laid down on Jinyoung’s bed. He patted the space beside him, encouraging the other to lie down with him and sleep. “Don’t push yourself too hard. Get some sleep first, you’ve had a harsh week.”

“Get out of my bed.”

“Hmm…”

And with that, Jaebeom closed his eyes to sleep. He’s not a fast sleeper per se, he’s just waiting for Jinyoung to join him but he didn’t. He opened his eyes just a slit saw the student body president scribbling again with a determined face.

Few hours after, it was almost three in the morning. Jinyoung has to get up at six to prepare for their eight o’clock class. He doesn’t like not sleeping properly but for the sake of that damned paper, he had to sacrifice. He sighed once again and turned off the lamp. Looking to his right, he saw his friend sleeping peacefully, facing him from the farther half of the bed. Jinyoung shook his head in exasperation. He sat on the unoccupied side and stared at his friend of ten years. His face lax and serene. The nose ring glints under the soft glow of the stars from the window. Jinyoung’s hand inched towards the other’s face, stopping midway. He clenched his fist and brought it back to himself. ‘Ah, I really wanna remove that nose ring so badly.’

Morning came and the sunlight was harsh on Y/N’s face. She finished her essay in time, luckily. She trudged along the hallways of their small house, the only thing that woke her up completely was the smell of fresh bacon being cooked. She quickly ate her breakfast, showered and said goodbye to her parents with a tired smile. The sound of the bell announced the arrival of Youngjae by their door. She opened it and her friend almost screamed bloody murder. “I thought a zombie came out to eat me.”

“Shut up.”

Youngjae laughed and slung an arm on her shoulders. He ruffled her already messy hair further. “Did you finish the write up?” She gave a gloomy thumb’s up while yawning, earning a giggle from the boy. “Ah seriously, you should take care of your studies more Y/N.”

“Says you. You were up all night long playing. I can see it on the bags under your eyes.”

“At least I finished my work before doing so, unlike someone I know…”

Y/N clicked her tongue in disapproval but she knows he’s right though. “I got carried away with the good shots I had when me and Yeji went to the beach last week. Aah, I made such a good video last night.” Youngjae smiled at her friend as he watched her walk half asleep.

Y/N and Youngjae were friends since they were toddlers. With their mothers practically sisters because of their closeness, and their houses are just one backyard away from each other, the two developed a close friendship. Oftentimes they’d be hanging out in their places, playing video games or reading comics. Although when they started to grow up more, they drifted away slightly, having different circles of friends. That didn’t bother the two of them though. They thought that it’s better to have their friendship outside school so that they won’t get sick seeing each other’s faces all the time. With this, they rarely go to school together anymore. Their classmates are in the dark about their closeness as well.

Youngjae pulled out his phone and scrolled his pictures. He suddenly got excited about showing his bestfriend about his dog’s new outfit he bought recently. “Y/N, Y/N, look at Coco. I bought a new shirt. It’s so cute.” He practically shoved the phone on her eyes but it didn’t matter much to her as she was as excited as him. They practically raised that cute dog together. “Omo! Coco’s so adorable!” They were both bouncing on their steps as they look at the dog’s pictures posing differently with each new clothing. The two of them were cooing. “Ah, Coco is such a joy.”

"Y/N!”

They both stopped on their tracks when they heard a familiar voice. It was Yeji, Y/Ns other bestfriend outside Youngjae (he’s still the bestest but Yeji doesn’t know that). She happily waved at her two classmates, a teasing smile forming on her face already. ‘Youngjae and Y/N walking together eh? How interesting!’

Yeji’s appearance was their cue to head apart so Y/N smiled at Youngjae and said goodbye. “See ya later in class!” He just hummed in agreement, seeing as his peers are also in sight. He waved at Yeji and parted with Y/N He walked towards his other friends and greeted them.

"So Youngjae huh?”

“What about him?”

“Nothing…” Which wasn’t true because now she is sporting a silly smile on her face. Probably imagining things outside of this world and conjuring up different ways how her friend and Youngjae fall in love. Yeji is a fangirl at heart and she just ships everybody. She never imposes it to everyone though, she’s just happy to think about it and keep it to herself. Amazingly enough though, the people she secretly shipped usually ends up together at some point. But Y/N knows her too well and she knows the outlandish things going in her mind right now. “We just happened to meet along the way Yeji.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

The school entrance as it always is, was full of commotion. More so today than usual. Y/N saw a hoard of students lining up the gate with annoyed expressions. ‘Ah, it’s probably President Jinyoung.’ She giggled to herself, happy to see him early in the morning. She’s still a little bit over the moon with his latest picture. “Do I look okay?”, that question snapped Y/N out of her daydream (the picture still lingering at the back of her mind). Yeji took out a small mirror and checked herself out. She combed her hair with her fingers, checked her uniform, straightened everything that doesn’t look ironed out. “You know he just nags at those who violate badly. We’ll never get reprimanded.” Yeji breathed deeply as she puts her mirror back to her bag. “I’m just making sure you know. I don’t want those cold eyes stare at me. It’s scary.” Y/N wanted to protest, ‘Jinyoung’s not scary! It’s a part of his charm!’ but a whine stopped her from doing so. While they were talking, they have pushed inside the crowd to get in and not be late for class. They reached the front where Jinyoung was standing sternly, his mouth thinned in disapproval. “Bhuwakul. How many times do I have to confiscate that earrings of yours?!”

“Why are you so keen on getting these anyway? Would I do better in my tests if I don’t wear them?” The boy, with his id lace yellow (which means he’s a *freshie), was so close to stomping his feet. But Jinyoung was not fazed and just stared at the boy with a piercing stare. “If you wear them, would you do better? No right? So hand them to me. You violated the school dress code. Come get it at my office after school.”

The people around them were murmuring, Y/N even caught what the others are saying. They think that Jinyoung was being unreasonable and harsh for no reason. ‘Which isn’t true! He just cares about what the students of this school looks like.' The sophomore turned to glare at the onlookers that defamed their president. ‘Ungrateful fools.’ But she was startled when the tall boy (oh my he’s tall) beside the one named Bhuwakul spoke innocently. “Let him be, he probably just wants to wear your earrings.” Even Yuna, the student council secretary, was shocked at the carefree manner of his dialogue. The president just raised his right eyebrow, “Kim Yugyeom, button up your uniform and tie your necktie properly.” and reprimanded the other freshie without hesitation. Yugyeom grimaced a bit but did what he was told. ‘You should be the one buttoning your clothes last night President huhu’

Despite the commotion at the front gate (which happens almost everyday as Jinyoung loves to greet the student body with “Rule # 5 under the clause of the dress code law….), Y/N and the students of their campus managed to get to their class safely. When they entered their homeroom, Y/N and Yeji was greeted by Ga Young, another friend of theirs. It seemed that she had only arrived a few minutes before them. “Yo! Entrance was pretty hectic today.”

Yeji made a face and flipped her brow wavy hair away from her face as if she was hassled on their way over. “Ugh, don’t tell us. We had to push our way out earlier.” They both giggled and chattered mindlessly about the events that morning.

“Don’t you think the foreigner freshie earlier was kind of cute?” Ga Young said dreamily, looking at the ceiling as if he could see his face there. “Oh, that one with the earrings?”

“Yep. We’re blessed with another foreigner beauty.” That’s true, the videographer thought. He’d look good on camera.

“Yeon Seo isn’t a foreigner.” Y/N countered, debating that her friend’s crush wasn’t exactly from another country. He grew up in their city just like everyone else is.

“He’s a half-half though.”

“The tall freshie had a face too.”

Yeji and Ga Young started to talk about the new eye candy they found. Those two are fans of idols, especially the amateur ones they have in their school. Y/N absentmindedly listened to the two’s gossip. Sometimes she thinks she’s in a webtoon or something. These kinds of things exist on books and comics even dramas that she consumes. Y/N still can’t believe such things are in her reality. Aren’t groups of popular boys with a cheesy group name only in fiction? She wondered if it’s possible that this is not a real world.

“But you know, I heard rumors that Bhuwakul's gay.”

That piqued Y/N's interest. Not that there’s any problem with being gay, the rumor just caught her interest. Not many people are brave enough to admit their sexuality in their community so it was pretty interesting.

“Eh? Who told you?”

“My freshie cousin told me. He said that he’s close with girls and gives fashion advice. He’s on the softer side as well.”

Huh… Y/N thought it was a baseless rumor after all. “That doesn’t mean he’s gay though.”

“That’s true.”

When the talk about the foreign freshie Bhuwakul ended, the other two started to talk about their favorite topic once again. The Five Roses. Y/N was just done with that subject and had heard enough to last her a lifetime. She couldn’t even understand why the girls in their school seemed to be under their spell. In Y/N’s opinion, they aren’t that good looking. Heck, even Mr. Cold Eyes Jinyoung was much more handsome. ‘Especially if they saw last night’s picture. How come they don’t talk about it?!’

“Ji Woo looked handsome today too!”

‘Oh come on, even Youngjae looks better than that guy.’ At the thought of her bestfriend, she turned to glance at him. He seemed to have caught her and gave him those warm sunny smiles that made her heart beat a bit faster. Even if she doesn’t consider her childhood friend as a man, she’s sure that he’s a good looking guy.

//next

#got7 #got7 fanfic #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #jackson wang #park jinyoung #kim yugyeom #mark tuan #bambam #choi youngjae #im jaeboem #got7 fic #my seven idols

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arcadequeerz · 5 years ago

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Ya boy is gonna babble bout more Scribble Stein au stuff even tho i don’t rlly have a post bout the au on this blog-

So earlier today I remembered somethin tht happens in the au, in the loop.

In order for the loop to ‘reset’, Scribbles and Bendy have to kill each other, They go back and forth with this, Bendy kills Scribbles once, Scribbles kills him the next time they have to reset. It’s early on in their Mission to save everyone, and work to escape, and they only have Boris on their team. Bendy immediately: makes it clear to Scribbles that he /doesn’t/ want Boris to see what they have to do to pull a reset, knowing it would deeply upset the wolf if he ever saw it, Scribbles understands so they do their best to make sure Boris isn’t around when they have to pull a reset.

At some point in that cycle, something happens and it leads to them having to reset the loop, and its Scribbles turn to kill Bendy. And right as he’s doing so(unsure of how exactly he does it?? at the moment), Boris manages to catch him as he’s doing it SO, Needless to say: Boris freaks out, but before he can do anything: the loop resets, throwing them back to the areas they started in.

He only just got to See Bendy again, Gets to see him back to his toon self, only to witness Scribbles fucking killing him before the loop resets. And for those few, scary, horrorfying moments, when he isn’t around Bendy, can’t see him: He truly fears, and thinks the worst, that he’s dead for real. Of course Bendy isn’t, He’s still alive, he comes back after every death in this looping hell, but At that moment Boris doesn’t know that: He truly thinks Scribbles killed him.

It crushes him when he sees it, He thinks Scribbles betrayed them, of course he DIDN’T but he thinks he did, He has so many panicked, scared thoughts running through his head, that he just got to see Bendy back to his old self, Only for him to fucking die right in front of him. When they eventually meet up again, He cries.

Before Bendy can even explain things, He’s scooping him up in his arms as he topples over onto their knees, holding them close to their chest, as he sobs. Mumbling ‘Oh thank god you’re ok Ben-’ But falls silent when Scribbles comes around the corner n sees the two. He looks up at him, Scribbles frowning as he watches him put Bendy down and stand up as he starts to fucking Growl.

Scribbles is: Immediately backing away, Putting his hands up, realizing: Oh Yeah, he just saw me fucking murder bendy, I should probably explain wh- when he Runs at him and before they can stumble away frm him, He’s punched him square in the face, making him fall back onto the ground as he scrambles back seeing stars. Bendy has to rush forward, Standing in front of Boris, arms up as they literally try so damn hard to get past them, to get at Scribbles as they snarl, fur down their back and on their shoulders bristling in rage. Teeth bared as he growls.

Scribles finally manages to pull himself off of the ground, Swaying only a little bit, still kind of dazed from the sudden hit, as he starts explaining what happened, and why he did that. As he explains, Boris’ eyes never stray from him, Watching him, ceasing to growl and no longer baring his teeth, ears falling back against his head. Boris realizing why, and understands why that was done when he finishes.

Bendy assures him he’s fine! He’s not hurt, It’s ok...He’s used to it. But that...Just makes Boris feel even More upset- as he looks down at Bendy, hearing them say he’s ‘used’ to dying. As if that wasn’t a big deal. Death didn’t really mean anything here, Fucking DEATH- Meant nothing and Bendy and Scribbles were just acting like dying was just? Some simple thing.

Boris feels that anger boil up again, That crushing fear comes back, the fear from the moment of not knowing if Bendy was alive. He stands again,ending up screaming: that it IS A BIG DEAL- HE FUCKING KILLED YOU! He doesn’t care, he doesn’t fucking care if it was to make things reset, to go back to the start of this never ending Hellish nightmare. He was so damn Scared. He thought he- He can’t finish the sentence as hr starts crying all over again. Bendy finally realizing why he’s so upset: He thought he was dead, for Real.

He falls back to his knees again, face in his hands as he cries. Ears pinned flat against his head. Scribbles feels bad, They really should of told him rather then just hide it. Bendy takes Boris’ hands from his face as they look to him. He apologizes, Saying he’s so sorry, ‘I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you Bo, I’m sorry I scared you like that-’. Apologizing for leaving him in the dark about what thye had to do. In the end, Boris tells them not to hide things from him anymore. But he says he Never wants to see that again. They both understand, and from then on they’re upfront with everything they know about the loop, and doubly make sure anytime a reset is done, That Boris isn’t around to see it.

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N only today did I realize just uh, How Fucked up it is that both Scribbles and Bendy don’t see them dying as some ‘Big Deal’. God, these two are so damn Numb to it. Sure: first couple times Scribbles has to die to reset the loop, he freaked out- But...He’s done it so many times by that point? He’s just so numb to it all. And Bendy’s died so many times, He’s ‘died’ at every end of this story, but his death doesn’t truly matter, He’s just as numb, if not moreso, as Scribbles.

They’re so calm about it too, It’s no big deal. They’ve gotten very good at killing each other, Making it happen quickly, so its fine. They’ll be right back anyways. Riiight back at the start of this hell, Right back at the beginning of this story every Damn time. It’s fine! It’s ok. Its just another death among the ever building number of them they’ve gone through.

God it just: really is hitting me just how horrifying it is that they’re both so Numb to their own deaths.

“It’s your turn Scribbles.”

“Yeah, I know, Lets go then.”

God, Really: It’s just: Happened so many times, They’ve killed each other, Countless times throughout the loops, even before the two were working together to get out, to save everyone. So Really: this is easy to do. It’s fine. They’ll be right back, It Doesn’t Matter.

And its only after getting out of the loop, out of that hell, Do they realize just how: Fucked Up it was, Just how numb they both got to them having to die, to fucking Death. N then them both realizing: Death leads to them Really Dying now. If they die now that they’re out of the story loop/out of the studio, then they’ll be dead for good and won’t be coming back.

They defiantly get freaked out over this. It’s overwhelming, Realizing that suddenly: Death really Means Death out here. They both suddenly feel so damn small, so damn Scared. It freaks them out for a while. They eventually just. Push past it, but they still think about it occasionally. Still look back onto what they did to reset the loops....And it makes them feel sick every time they do.

#Cade Writes #im like...on a roll lately with writing shit HGFDHSHGS BUT. hav this. again sory if my grammar is kinda bad]#or if this isnt ht good.....#was speaking about this earlier this morning on my batim server n i just cant stp thinin bout it #my poor boys d:[[...#i'm sure i hav a post on this au if yall look around for it on here #d>:o think i answered a ask goin on bout this au?#orat least some stuff bout it at the v least.#its still not all the way finished or settled story wise n stuff but! d:> i lov scribble stein au #also fyi boris n ben aren't a couple until later on in the au a bit after they got out of the loop!#Boris: loves bendy so much.

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krreader · 7 years ago

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BTS scenario → soulmate!au

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: soulmate!au genre: fluff ; mentions of smut

a/n: omg thank you so much my love! I totally understand, I love soulmate!au’s as well, so I hope you like these scenarios!!!! ♥

ask box | masterlist | fandoms | faq | multifandom reader blog

kim seokjin

(you have a tattoo of your soulmate’s initials on your wrist)

“What can I get you?” you kindly smiled down at the seven men that were sitting at a table in the restaurant that you were working at.

“Ah, yes, can we get..-” but when the guy that spoke leaned forward, reaching for the menu, his wrist got exposed and you could see the initials that everyone had on their wrist. The initials standing for the name of their soulmate. Your heart skipped a beat when it matched your initials, but this happened too many times before and your initials never matched with that of the other person. So you quickly blinked a couple of times and began scribbling down their order, before walking away again, not trying to get your hopes up for once.

“Did you see the way she looked at Hyung?” Jimin laughed, “She's interested in you.”

“What?” Jin turned around, looking at you standing at the bar, handing the order to another one of your co-workers, “She is quite pretty..”

“She seems really nice,” Namjoon cocked his head to the side as he watched you go to another table.

“Maybe YOU should ask her out, hyung,” Taehyung nudged his side as he realized he was interested in you as well.

But while they all bickered, Jin's eyes were still on you. For some reason, there was something about you that had him stare. That had his heart beat faster and his mouth curl into a smile. And for the first time in a long time, he felt butterflies in his belly.

He just didn't know what it was until you came back with their drinks and put them down, your sleeve sliding up just enough for Jin to see the tattoo.

And when you wanted to walk away, he quickly grabbed it, pulling you back towards him.

“Hyung! What the hell are you doing?!” Namjoon hissed.

“The initials.. they're mine.”

“What?” you breathed out.

“My name. It’s Kim Seokjin and your name, is that.. does your name start with these initials?”

"Yes,” you looked at his wrist, then back into his eyes, before you laughed happily, “Yes!”

And while Jin got up to hug you, just because he was so happy that he finally found you, Namjoon threw the napkin onto the table and pouted.

“I wanted to ask her out.”

min yoongi

(you share a dream with your soulmate when you’re both asleep, but can’t remember each other when you wake up.)

“You're late again,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest as he walked over to the bed and took off his jacket, “I told you to go to sleep earlier, I've been waiting for ages.”

“Stop complaining,” Yoongi leaned down and pressed a kiss against your lips, “I was working.”

“I'm estimating that I'll wake up in less than thirty minutes. So you know the deal,” you got up from the bed and took off your clothes, “Best be fast, babe.”

“Ah, but you should know me by now, I can make you scream in less than 15 seconds,” he turned you around by the waist and started kissing your exposed shoulder, unclasping your bra in the process.

“I just wish you'd actually do that, you know?” you sighed and leaned against him, “I'm tired of forgetting you every damn time..”

Because that was the thing with soulmates. You'd remember each other in the dream world, would always be able to dream together. But the second you'd wake up, you'd forget everything. So every morning, you wouldn't remember Yoongi. Only when you’d meet him in real life, would it finally stop.

“One day, love,” he turned you back towards him, “One day, all of this is going to be real.”

“You promise?” you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I promise.”

Because he'd find a goddamn way.

Just.. not right now. Because as much as he loved you, ARMY would probably not like it very much if he suddenly had found his soulmate, so he'd wait for a few more years. In the meantime, he'd enjoy his dreams with you that varied from rough sex nights, to days with you two and your child or romantic dates. Everything you could think of, you could do it..

And you would, until it was finally real.

jung hoseok

(your soulmate’s current thoughts about you will show up on your skin for a short while.)

It really varied every single time.

Sometimes it was something like: 'I wonder what she looks like' other times it was 'I wonder if I could make her laugh' and then yet again it was really naughty stuff that you had to hide under every circumstance.

Whoever your soulmate was, he thought about you a lot. Almost daily actually.

Today for example, he thought: 'I want to meet her so bad..'

And you could only agree.

Not every soulmate thought about the other one so much. The fact that yours did only proved to you that he really wanted to meet you. He often thought nice things about you that made you giggle and then other times, when he thought about the naughty stuff, you couldn't help but enjoy yourself, wondering what would show up on his skin when you did.

It was around 8 PM when you walked back home, after having had dinner with a friend. You were looking at your phone while waiting at a red light, when something on your finger started lighting up.

You instantly smiled when you realized what it was, but froze the second you saw the words: 'Fuck, she's hot..'

“What the hell?” you muttered.

'And she's pretty too. Hot and pretty? That's a dangerous combo.'

You looked up from your hand and turned your head left and right, when you found a guy staring at you, but he quickly lowered his head when he saw you do so.

Your jaw dropped and you instantly walked over to him without thinking twice, “Do you think I'm hot?”

“Uhm.. what?”

“Please just answer?”

“Y..- Yes?” it came out more than a question than an answer, but he was slightly intimidated by your approach.

And when you smiled, he took that as a good sign. And then when you raised your hand and he saw what was on your finger, he saw that as an even better sign.

“What's on your skin?”

Hoseok pulled up his sleeve and showed you: 'Is that creep staring at me?'

Oh well, he’d probably be the romantic one in this relationship.

kim namjoon

(you get the same injuries as your soulmate)

“What the hell,” you sighed as you found yet another bruise on your leg, “I swear to god, one of these days he's going to get himself killed.”

“Don't say that. Remember what happened to Brandon's soulmate?”

“Fine,” you sighed and walked over to the mirror, “It's just really uncool to walk around in shorts with all these bruises.”

“I think it's good. Your soulmate is surely going to see that you'll have matching bruises and then.. BOOM. Love happens.”

“Not everyone has a fairy tale ending like you had,” and with that and a kiss against your best friend's cheek, you made your way out of the apartment and over to where you were working.

You didn't really pay much attention to the outside world, your headphones in your ear as you took public transportation to work and half an our later you were standing in the coffee shop, working your morning shift as always.

Nothing unusual really happened, until a guy came up and asked for a piece of paper, a girl standing behind him, giggling like crazy.

You could only smirk and hand it to him with a wink, “Go get her.”

But then the guy was somehow clumsy enough to cut his finger, even so much that he started bleeding. You instantly walked around the counter with a band aid from the first aid kit and wanted to wrap it around his finger, when he suddenly stopped you.

“What? What is it?” you asked as you looked up at him.

“Did you.. cut yourself as well?”

“What? No? Why would you..-” but when you turned your hand around, there was a wound at the same spot he had just cut himself. You didn't feel it, you never felt it, because the pain wasn't transferred onto the other ones body. But it was there.. and it was bleeding, “You're him?!”

“You're my soulmate?” Namjoon's eyes widened but he has said it so loud that everyone in the coffee shop was clapping, because everyone was always super excited to witness something like that happen.

“You and I have a lot to discuss,” you put your hands on your waist and took a step back, “What the HELL are you doing that you always get so many bruises? Do you know how ugly that looks wearing shorts? Huh? Do you?!”

Well.. that wasn't what he had expected..

park jimin

(you have your soulmate’s name somewhere on your body.)

“Please, please, please, just come with me to the fansign.”

“I told you already. I don't want to see him.”

“But he's your soulmate!”

“He's also an idol. And I don't want to date an idol, that's way too much pressure.”

“Ugh, I swear,” your friend plopped down next to you again, “Anyone else would have ran to him the second they realized whose name was on their body. If I had Park Jimin tattooed on my body, I would have..-”

“Don't finish that sentence, it's going to be something naughty again and I don't want to hear it.”

The advantage of your soulmate being in the public eye like that, was that you were able to read up on him. You knew what he liked and didn't like, had watched countless of videos of him and even if you always pretended like you didn't care, you often looked at pictures of him in the darkness of the night, a smile always gracing your features.

But the problem you had was not the pressure of dating an idol, but it was that you knew he'd be disappointed if he found out you were his soulmate. You knew that some of his band members' soulmates were famous as well and given the fact that there was nothing about you on the internet, he probably already knew that you weren't famous or special. You were ordinary. And for some reason, the universe thought pairing you off would be a good idea, when you really couldn’t see how it was.

But your friend was tired of this. She knew you wanted to be with him and she knew about your insecurities.

So she still went to the fansign with a couple of her friends and when she was in front of Jimin, she couldn't help but grin from ear to ear.

“Well, you look happy today.”

“Because I know something that you don't.”

“Do you?” he smiled as well, while he signed her album, “And what's that?”

“I know that your soulmate's name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

He instantly stopped writing, but only raised his head very slowly, “How do you know that?”

“Because she's a friend of mine.. she knows who you are and she's not famous or rich, so she's scared you won't want her. But I don't think you're the kind of guy to care about that, so..-” she pretended like she was giving him a gift, but in secret, it had your number written on it, “Prove her wrong.”

And it was that same night, when you were lying in bed yet again, staring at a picture of Jimin, that you suddenly got a text saying: 'So.. I think I met one of your friends today, (Y/N). I heard you're my soulmate?”

Oh god, you were going to KILL her. But also? Kiss her to death.

kim taehyung

(anything you draw/write on your own skin appears on your soulmate’s.)

He loved you.

Taehyung has never met you, but he loved you.

For some reason, you continuously kept drawing doodles on your skin and it was the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Maybe you were bored and did it because of that, or maybe you just liked doing it. Whatever reason you had, he loved you for it, because his skin was always covered with the most beautiful art in the universe.

When he woke up this morning, something was different though.

It wasn't a drawing like it usually was, but a time and an address that was.. oddly familiar for some reason?

“Oh my god,” he jumped up a second later, sleep completely gone from his body, “She's in Seoul!”

And while Tae took the quickest shower of his life and got ready, you were already on your way to the meeting, covering up your arm with your sleeve before shaking hands, so that none of these people would see your notes and drawings.

You introduced yourself to a couple of people, then you walked over into the back of the room to get yourself something to drink.

And that's when he stormed into the hall, completely out of breath.

And standing right next to you.

You chuckled, leaning against the table and cocking your head to the side as you looked him up and down, “You don't look like you belong in here..”

“I'm looking for someone,” he breathed out, walking over to you and showing you his arm, “Have you seen anyone with these drawings or notes on her arm? She is supposed to be here..”

But while he looked around, you put down your cup and pulled his arm towards you, your fingers gently caressing over the doodles.

Then you looked up at him and said: “My god.. I could be a tattoo artist, huh?”

“Wh..- What?! It's you?”

“Surpriiiiiise!” you laughed happily and wrapped your arms around him.

jeon jeongguk

(one eye is the color of that of your soulmate and you'll only get your own eye color back when you look into your soulmates eyes.)

You were part of the staff for this arena and while thousands upon thousands of fans were losing their minds outside because their favorite band in the world was about to perform, you were working backstage, today being like every other day for you.

Your boss walked over to you, a clipboard in her hand, looking at you with a pair of blue eyes. It always made you smile, because that way you could tell this person had already found their soulmate.

You on the other hand were still left with one eye that was extremely brown. So brown, that it sometimes appeared to be black. It would look different and many would probably stare if soulmates weren’t a thing, but on a daily base, so many people on the street had eyes like you did. So many hadn't found their soulmate yet, so you weren't too upset about it.

You knew that someday, you'd find him.. someday..

“(Y/N), can you get these water bottles to the artists?”

“Sure,” you smiled, “Anything else?” when it came down to a staff member interacting, or even just being in the same room as an artist, it was always you being sent, because you knew what boundaries actually were. Something that not all did, unfortunately.

“No, thank you, love,” and with that, she kept on walking and you picked up the bottles.

It was extremely heavy, but you grit your teeth to carry them all the way to the artists room, a make-up artist being kind enough to hold the door open.

You didn't say anything, didn't even look up at the people.

Again, this was your job, you weren't here to fangirl and that's why you were one of the best. The reason why everyone could trust you. And so you unpacked the bottles and lined them up, when you could see someone kneel down in front of you.

You only wanted to smile at him kindly, then get back to work, but when you looked into his eyes..

You knew right away, staring into his eyes that one of them belonged to you, while his other one was the one that you had.

And while you were both staring at each other with an open mouth, your colors changed. They changed so that they were matching.

“You.. they're both brown!” you exclaimed.

“Yours are the same color too!”

“Kookie, come on, we have to go,” one of his band members said as he walked out of the door, but the guy was still kneeling in front of you, his eyes focused on you. It’s like nothing in the world existed in that moment, only you and he was staring right into your soul.

But just when he wanted to say something else, another band member told him once again to follow them, so he knew he had to make it short, “You're working here, yes? Please wait for me after the concert?”

“I will be..,” because how could you not?

And with that and a happy grin, he sprinted out of the room and after his members. And every single one of them stared at him in disbelief, because five minutes ago, his eye color definitely hadn't matched.

He just shrugged happily and winked, “I found her.”

#bts imagine #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bangtan reaction #bangtan boys #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #bangtan sonyeondan #reader #bangtan x reader #bangtan boys x reader #request #bts scenario

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isthisthingeven0n · 6 years ago

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rain and sunshine : d.k

another colour piece with everyone's favourite guy. and since you are all equally impatient bitches here is yellow with dima - thank you to my babe @vxlentinehood for the softest rebranded idea.

fun fact: I almost used my book title for this piece but had a change of heart. also fun fact two, this is from my old blog as I knew it would be perfect so i’ve edited it and reworded it accordingly.

hope you enjoy!

brief summary: dima had been sending you sunflowers for months in his absence, but their vivid colour couldn’t rise your dampened spirits.

* masterlist *

They were the biggest contrast in my life. They were full of colour, screamed about life and excitement whilst I lacked both.

At this point the majority of my salary is spent on maintaining them, ensuring their precious petals are secure. Sometimes I place odd ones into empty wine bottles knowing he has no idea how many of them there are at this point. It doesn’t matter how many bottles are empty, as there are always more flowers to find a home for.

Walking into my living room they line the windows, the coffee table and one sits alone on my shelf, admiring the sea of yellow in the room. For something connoted with delicate, they are far from it, at this point they have more strength and life than I do.

I know I have to keep them alive, keep them strong for him. All he wants is to come home to a bright happy environment, and maybe, just maybe the flowers will drown me out.

Every few days, sometimes weeks a new bunch arrived at my door. They’d patiently wait for me, all perked up and full of life. They emit joy whilst I radiate despair but he doesn’t know that I’ve gotten good at my fake smiles. At this point, I’m unsure if I’m happy or merely faking it.

Along with the flowers I receive a handwritten note, a quick scribble with a single kiss ‘be home soon, I miss you x’ that sort of note. At first, they touched me, I reflected over how heartfelt they seemed but now they all appear generic, that’s not his fault, I blame my empty soul.

Taking yet another withered bunch of flowers out of one vase, the one decorated with paint splats that my nephew did for me as a Christmas present I replace them with fresh, younger life. Take the old and replace it with the new, it’s easy, too easy. Focusing on the petals that linger on the surface as the body is now buried in the bin, along with other crap in my life I carefully pick the petals up, comparing the shades against the sunshine.

Dead and old.

Young and youthful.

What category can I place myself in whilst being surrounded by life?

Snapping out of my thoughts I wondered where he was exactly. Was he working? Possibly. Was he enjoying a two month trip to LA? Most definitely. How was I in the midst of this? I’m past having a response.

Picking up my phone the background lights up my eyes, causing me to squint at the cliché couple’s picture of us. Me, doing a bearing all teeth smile as I wear my yellow raincoat- the reason this began. Whilst during the dull day his eyes shone, they contrasted like my personality to these flowers. They illuminated through the heavy grey clouds of my mind, always finding a way through to show the light.

My fingertip hovers above the call button, already I can hear him voicing his concerns as his voice would grow louder as he parted from his friends, the ones I’d met various times but still felt estranged from. I can hear him laughing and it echoing in the silence of the flat, my only company slowly dying on me. Lifting my hand away I hold my fist close to my chest, my own breathing sounding too dense, too much noise breaking the silence that rests around me.

Walking out of the room I sit in the hallway, away from the colour, the life, the death, from the reminder that he isn’t here. I want to scream the sort of scream that leaves your throat raw, the one when you feel your body empty the toxins and are left feeling exhilarated. But that doesn’t happen when you scream, instead, you have neighbours who aren’t deaf or plugged into the internet knock on your door with concerns which are always short lived. No one wants to be nosey in person, we all do it in private instead.

I stare at the white wall that has been accidentally decorated with scrapes from our furniture when we moved in, the marks of alcohol from him dragging Ilya in during drunken events. We both fretted about that those stains to begin with, but the more marks that got added the less we both cared. Do we even care anymore about anything? Who knows.

Standing up I can see the colour out of the corner of my eye, the vibrancy requires sunglasses sometimes, especially at 5am when the morning sun breaks through the tainted glass. Stepping forward I hesitate to go back in there, the faint sound of laughter hangs heavy there sometimes, the forgotten memories.

Turning away I can almost hear him muttering my name, the sweet voice etched with exhaustion. Closing my eyes I whisper his in return, only to be greeted by the gentle lock of our door. Quick to face the door a large bag perched next to those scruffy shoes, my eyes dart up to see him. The actual him. Not a pixilated glitched version I’d admire through the screen or hear every few days through others conversations.

Standing my ground the variation of aged life stood between us. His stubble had grown into more of a beard whilst his hair was perfectly styled by simply being left alone. He wore that small uneasy smile, sensing my own attitude as my arms remain together.

A gradient of colours leading to his black attire whilst I matched, how cliché. Analysing him I wasn’t sure what to do, physical contact - something I haven’t faced in shy of two months.

Can I merely glue the pieces back together as always, pick up the flower petals and discard them like they were never there? Somehow I do this every time, but how much longer can I force myself in this game?

“Hi.” I shyly wave, as if we were strangers meeting for the first time.

To him I may as well be a stranger, usually, when he is gone for a long time I often lose myself. Who I’m meant to be that is. When I know he’s coming back I prepare myself, get back to the look that he knows and loves as opposed to a tired mess who cannot understand social interactions.

“Hey.” He said through a sigh. I tried finding his eyes but they remained out of view. “I didn’t realise how many I’d sent.” Motioning to the flowers that covered every available surface I let out a dry laugh.

“This is a third of what was.” Muttering to myself I forget how the quietest of words can be easily heard in a space like this.

Stepping forward the floorboards creaked as he etched closer, past the bright flowers and nearer the darker, the more flaccid of the bunch. His hand reached out cautiously towards mine, yet I stared at it like it were an alien. As my hands remained to my sides he quickly retracted his hand back to his side, a gentle blush crossing his cheeks. A new colour. Pink. Not yellow. Not black. Not white. But pink. The colour of love, the pure kind. Not passionate, not sexy, not dangerous. Innocent.

“Funny, isn’t it?” I spoke up, he didn’t react. “How yellow is supposed to be a happy colour?” More rhetorical questions followed by silence, as expected. “Yet it’s been claimed to be a depressing colour.” A dry laugh sounds from him, making a small smile form on my face.

“And here you are, surrounded by nothing but it.” He lifted his head, at last, the deep blue that shone through the clouds and darkness.

The blue, the pink, the grey all contrasting against the sunflowers. “It’s about time for a change.” Placing my hand on his I felt the easiness return. The innocent pink cross my own cheeks. “Welcome home, Dima.”

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studiobeebo · 7 years ago

Note

If it wouldn’t be too much trouble can I request Izuku comforting a fuller figured female reader? I’ve had a few people say some nasty things about my body lately. Thank you so much and I really love your blog! 💕💕💕

HERE YOU GO MY LOVE I HOPE YOU LOVE IT SJDG

ALSO THIS IS FOR A GOOD FRIEND HENCE THE MORE SPECIFIC WORDING MY DUDES

There are many things Izuku Midoriya doesn’t understand and, noticeably, women are one of them. Now he doesn’t think of his inability to talk to a female in a “Ugh, women are impossible!” way, but more of a “Oh god, how am I even in the presence of such a goddess.” type of way. Well, maybe that’s not how he thought of every girl he crossed paths with, but when it came to you, it felt like ‘goddess’ wasn’t even nearly a strong enough word to describe his admiration.

Izuku couldn’t really say it was ‘love at first sight’, but…well, maybe it was, but at first he honestly didn’t see his blossoming feelings for you as having any romantic decent. In his eyes, your quirk was incredible and something that peaked his interest, so naturally he wanted to learn more. It didn’t take him long to make a page in his notebook for you, as he had done for a few others in your class, however as time went on he started to realize he had written things down that had nothing to do with your quirk or fighting style. There were little things scribbled down like ‘Favorite color purple? Or maybe blue’ or other little descriptive things about you as a person rather than you as a fighter, and the strangest thing was that he didn’t even remember writing these things down.

Since he couldn’t quite figure it out, he decided to push his concerns to the back of his brain and just pay more attention when he was taking down notes on you, but those notes became slowly less frequent until he realized he often wasn’t staring at you to gain information, he just couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were beautiful of course, he didn’t need to study you for long to know that, but you were more than just a stunning figure with curves he’d murder to hold close. You were always so kind and vibrant with a smile that shown like no other in his eyes. You seemed to always be willing to put others first and your friendliness was well received by everyone who met you. Despite being generally loved by most, he knew now that you were like a magnet who could draw anyone in, but it seemed his heart didn’t stand a chance even more so than anyone else.

When he finally did realize how hard he had fallen for you, talking to you became even more nerve wracking than before. Every smile sent his way made his face feel hot and every time his name fell from your lips in an excited manner before you delivered your morning hug, he thought his heart would explode as he returned the favor with shaky limbs. He was in love, maybe it was some childish teenage ‘naive’ love, but it was a love just as strong as any other. The only problem with coming to terms with his feelings, however, was that now he couldn’t hide behind excuses of just being intrigued by your quirk. When he wasn’t focused on training or studying, his brain and heart were constantly at war, his brain telling him to just forget it because there was no way a girl like you would like him back while his heart urged him to let his emotions flow free and just take a leap of faith.

Because of this turmoil, however, he was so distracted whenever he was around you that he didn’t realize that recently you had been acting a little strange. Of course this ‘strangeness’ showed through you being a little less talkative and your smile not being as present as usual, but when he realized that you had stopped hugging him along with your other close friends every morning, he knew something wasn’t right. Once he realized that, he began to watch you a bit more closely and he noticed everything else that had been off about you as well. Part of him thought that maybe he should just leave you be as he didn’t want to seem pushy or like he was overreacting, but then again he realized it wouldn’t hurt to just ask if he could do anything to help.

Luckily it was usually pretty easy to spot you in a crowd considering your height, so after school that day he was pretty quick to make his way through the crowd of people leaving the school until he was by your side.

“(Name)! Can I..could I borrow you for a second? Or ask you a question I guess.” God, all this time and he still couldn’t say a single sentence to you without stumbling over his words.

“Oh..hey Midoriya. Yeah, go ahead.”

The way you said his name, and his last name at that, without the presence of a bubbly tone and sparkling smile made his heart ache a bit, but that just gave him all the more reason to figure out what was going on. He awkwardly took a few steps over so the two of you could be off to the side and away from possibly prying ears. Honestly, he didn’t really have an exact plan for what he wanted to say, but if he sat here and thought about it too much he’d just get nervous, so he decided to just go for it.

“I know it’s probably none of my business, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to..but I wanted to ask if everything’s okay!”

For a moment you felt bad, your first thought being that the worried look on his face didn’t suit him. You didn’t think your attitude had really gotten all that bad due to some recent events, but it must have been noticeable enough if your friends had noticed, and Izuku was the last one you wanted to worry. You had feelings for him, there was no doubt there, and the last thing you wanted to do was scare him away with your insecurities.

“Oh..” You trailed off, trying to figure out the best way to explain things.

In all honesty, things really hadn’t been okay. You knew you weren’t the thinnest of girls, and you had even started to come to terms with being a bit more curvy, your friends endless stream of kind comments always helping to fuel your self esteem. Unfortunately, with the light always came the dark and lately it seemed the few negative snide remarks you did hear, even if they were just from notorious assholes around school, beat you down more than the compliments could lift you up. They were all you could think about and the mirror quickly became something you avoided. Every time one of your friends even just barely made contact with you, you got nervous, the idea of someone being able to feel your body turning you away from any form of contact.

On the bright side you knew it would pass, you’d had these feelings before and you had enough support in your life to get you up on your feet again eventually, but it was still shitty enough to make a noticeable decline in your mood. Because you now knew your change in attitude was clear to see, you couldn’t really lie to Izuku, but you wouldn’t want to lie to him anyways, so with a heavy sigh and a smile that screamed ‘guess I’ve been caught, huh’ you decided to spill your guts.

“I dunno…Hm, you know how sometimes you always beat yourself up about Kacchan being “better” than you?” You asked while staring straight down at your feet, “I guess it’s…kinda like that but with my appearance.. it’s not bad but..people talk, y’know..” You stopped, taking a deep breath to keep yourself from crying while you gently squeezed at your hips so you wouldn’t have to flat out say what it was you had been feeling insecure about.

For a moment you didn’t hear a peep out of the boy who stood before you and you were starting to think you had freaked him out by sharing your feelings so easily, but before you had the chance to look up from your feet to gauge his response you felt two hands grip your forearms. When you did finally allow your eyes to meet his own, he had a look on his face that reminded you of the first time he had faced Bakugou in battle: fierce and determined.

“(Name).” He stated sternly, “You’re…really amazing.”

That wasn’t…really what you were expecting and it seemed seeing the confusion on your face broke him out of his serious trance as he continued to explain awkwardly while taking his hands off of you.

“I-I just mean..you’re just really kind and funny…and everyone loves you, and even on top of that you’re so beautiful! I don’t know how someone could ever live with saying whatever they said to you, but they’re wrong! Maybe that won’t mean much coming from me but…yeah.”

It wasn’t until you looked down again, though this time with a soft blush and a smile gracing your features, that he began to get flustered himself, realizing he’d finally said some of the things he’d always wanted to say, but in reality he had so much more he could have said.

“That’s kind of weird isn’t, sorry for being creepy, you’re just- Well I-“

“Thank you, Izuku.” You said honestly. Maybe it was specifically what he had said, or the fact that he even cared at all, or maybe your crush was more significant than you thought, but his kind words really did make your heart beat faster and help clear the depressed fog that had been clouding your brain a bit.

“O-Oh…it was no big deal.” He mumbled, his cheeks turning pink as he scratched at the back of his head awkwardly. He had already done something he never would have been able to do if it weren’t for the adrenaline rush caused by his constant urge to make you happy, so he might as well ride the confidence train for a little bit longer..right?

“(Name) I know it might not be a great time, but I’ve been wanting to ask if you’d want to go out with me some time!”

Now if his kindness hadn’t surprised you already, this definitely would have. He was right about it being an awkward thing to ask considering the serious topic you had just been on, but it was just so sweet and you couldn’t deny the blatant heat fanning over your cheeks as you nodded with a bit too much excitement.

“I would really like that!” You exclaimed, and you were glad to see his eyes light up with just as much excitement, but as he opened his mouth to speak again he was cut off by his friends calling for him from somewhere off a bit behind you. With one last smile he bid you an awkward goodbye, saying he’d get your number from you the next day, but before you turned to be on your own way you stopped him one last time.

“Izuku?” You called out to him, hoping he’d hear your voice over the rest of the students still exiting the building.

“Thank you again.”

#mha #mha headcanons #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya x reader

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yoosungiib · 8 years ago

Note

I love your blog! Can I have a request if you don't mind? Can you have MC leave town for a few days to visit her family so she left her spouse(RFA+V+Saraen+Vanderwood) in charge on watching their child(ren)? Let's just say hell breaks loose and stuff goes down, but in the end it turned out okay. You can use "hell breaks loose" however you want! Btw... I love you ^^

I love you too, hun!

I ended up only doing the RFA because this was getting suuuuper long and other things started piling up on me. If people really like this and want me to do the minor trio as well, feel free to request it and I will get to it. :)

RFA troubles when left alone w/ their child while MC is away for a few days

~~~

★ Yoosung ★

“Bye, MC! See you in a couple days!” Yoosung kissed you goodbye, his lips lingering against yours before pulling back only so he could kiss your cheek.

“Bye, mommy!” Your 4 year old son chirped from below, his little arms reaching up for you. Happily, you lifted him up and pulled him into a tight embrace, kissing the side of his head before handing him over to Yoosung.

You gathered your things and turned the two you loved most in this world and waved goodbye, promising to bring them both back some souvenirs.

Yoosung smiled at your son who had a toothy little grin whilst looking at the cookie jar on the counter. Yoosung shook his head before setting him down and watching him run to it.

“You can have one, but only one, donut,” Yoosung said handing him a chocolate chip cookie, which the little boy ate greedily. “Daddy has to take a shower real quick but then we can do whatever you want! We’re gonna have fun this weekend, right?”

“Yeah!”

Yoosungs lips curled into a large smile once again. “Good! I’ll put some cartoons on for you, so just sit tight.”

While Yoosung was taking his shower, the little boy sat on the couch but after five minutes he got bored of what was showing on the television.

He wanted to play with his toys so he pushed himself off the couch and went to his room to get his toys. But a colourful array of figures suddenly caught his eye.

A small gasp came from the small boy as he saw the collection of LOLOL action figures through the doorway of yours and Yoosung’s room.

He remembers times seeing them before when running to you guys after a nightmare, but he never got to see them up close before!

These LOLOL figures are the only thing that Yoosung has organized to be honest, and he takes pride in that. As he’s told you numerous times when you go to dust the shelf, “No! They’re in the wrong order! They need to be organized by guild, here let me do it.”

The little boy rushed into the room and immediately grabbed for them.

No restraint.

Curved his arm and pushed them all onto the floor, following the toys to the ground and immediately beginning to play with them.

However, your son messes up the figures more than you ever have. He’s tearing off the heads and arms and mixing them up.

He puts a few in his mouth and leaves quite a few nasty teeth marks on the bodies.

“Donut? Where are you?” Yoosung calls now done with his shower.

“Honey, where are-” He stops mid-sentence, his jaw dropping to the floor as he walks into his room to see his son sticking two LOLOL monsters up his nose while smiling at his father.

“Daddy, look!”

Yoosung is frozen in place for a few moments, a look of horror on his face as he stares at his precious figures a mess on the ground.

Finally, he lets out a child like squeal before running towards his son, pulling the figures out of his small hands and nose.

“No! These aren’t to play with- Guild leader johnnnn, nooo!”

When you come home after what was a long weekend of Yoosung trying not to break down over the loss of his figures, you see your son sitting grinning on his lap while the two watch the Lego Movie.

After your son gives you a hug then runs to his room, you plop down on the couch next to Yoosung and cuddle up to his side. You look up and see the frown displayed on his face.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

That’s when the tears come.

Smol boy is a mess on your lap, bawling his eyes out.

“They’re gone, MC! Every single one of them! They’ve all gone to heaven! Half of them drowned in snot!”

“What’s gone?”

“My LOLOL figures!!!”

♪ Zen ♪

Zen never liked when you left for long periods of time, but he understands you wanting to spend time with your family.

He decided to look at the bright side of things. For one, he was finally going to be having quality time with his daughter!

A whole weekend just for the two of them,

And he was totally gonna spoil his princess.

“Remember, her bedtime is at 7 o’clock. She is not aloud to watch tv past 6 o’clock. Her favorite book to read before bed is Goodnight Moon, and you have to leave a glass of milk on the bedside table-”

Zen shut you up with a loving kiss that was broken by the fact he was smiling so much. He stroked your cheek, chuckling before saying, “Don’t worry, Jagiya, I know what to do. You go have fun with your family. We’ll be right here in one piece when you get back!”

The moment you left through the door, Zen lifted his giggling daughter over his head, spinning her around. “Ready to have some fun!?”

He loved his daughter’s laugh. It was so high pitched and sweet, always filled with joy. He asked her what she wanted to do first.

One of her most favorite things in the world was listening to her father practice his lines for his upcoming show because he always made funny voices and extravagant motions.

Zen sat the little girl on the couch, gave her a bowl of ice cream - now that you’re not here, your not able to stop him from giving her too much sugar - and began to present his script.

Everything was fun and going nicely until Zen stopped at the sudden buzzing against his leg.

He frowned, looking down at the screen reading his director was calling.

He put the script down and told the girl who would be back in a little bit.

For about ten minutes, she waited in the other room with her legs swaying back and forth as she listened to the muffled sound of her dads phone call.

She looked at the script left on the table, a small smile appearing on her face as she rushed to get her coloured pencils.

I’m going to make it pretty for daddy!

She dumped all the pencils onto the ground, picking up batches at a time, scribbling all over the skript to the point nothing could be read.

These were not proper drawers but absolute scribbles, a failed attempt at a rainbow.

Zen finally finished his call and was walking back to his daughter, but he gasped when he saw her starting to tare at the script.

“NO! Honey, what are you doing?”

“I’m making it pretty!”

He flipped through the pages and the script was completely destroyed and unreadable. He sighed, putting it down and looking at his smiling daughter. He put a fake smile on his face, lifting her up and declaring they were going to go for a walk.

“What about finishing the show, daddy?”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that now, honey.”

❀ Jaehee ❀

The little girl you and Jaehee adopted shortly after you two got married was incredibly jealous that you were getting to fly on an airplane to see your family back in your hometown.

Ever Since she was two, the little girl was fascinated by airplanes!

The best gift she ever got, thanks to Mr. Han even with his resentment of Jaehee quitting, was a trip in his private jet.

Jaehee was really sad to be honest when you told her that you were going to be staying with your family for a bit. Mainly because she was going to miss you. But she was looking forward to the quality time she was sure to spend with her daughter.

The little girl gave you a hug before practically climbing up Jaehee who had to find a way to situate the girl on her hip while she hugged and kissed you goodbye.

“I’ll see you both in a few days! Be good you two!~”

“Bye, mommy!”

When you left, Jaehee looked down at the little girl with a small smile on her face. To be honest, Jaehee was a little nervous to be taking care of her all by herself while you were away, but even so, she was more excited than nervous.

Just as she was about to say something, her phone starting to ring in her pocket. She rolled her eyes a bit when she saw it was one of the waiters at the cafe. “Ah, just give me a minute, mouse,” She says going to the bedroom and closing the door.

The girl shrugged, lifting up her toy airplane and pursing her lips so she can make a vroom sound as she runs around the room, lifting the plane up and down in the air.

All was going well, however, until she accidently knocked Jaehee’s cup of coffee all over her computer.

She quickly put the plane down and rushed to clean up the mess, but only being four, she grabbed what was closest to clean up the mess,

Which was Jaehee’s paperwork.

The flimsy paper did nothing but make more of a mess, pushing the liquid down onto the floor.

Panicking a little bit, she tried to hide the mess by taking some of Jaehee’s books and putting them over the puddles of coffee.

But oh god, she forgot all about the computer which was completely dead now.

The girl thought if she got rid of the computer, Jaehee wouldn’t notice anything was wrong. So she tried to pry the computer off the desk, which only resulted in pulling the whole entire desk to the ground.

At the loud bang of the desk crashing, Jaehee dropped her phone and bolted to the main room in which you were in, and let out a loud scream at the mess everywhere.

At her scream, the little girl started to cry afraid that Jaehee was going to be mad at her.

I mean, Jaehee was not happy whatsoever but she couldn’t be mad at her daughter, especially when she was crying.

When you came home, you were surprised to find the main room looking empty now that the computer and desk was gone.

When you asked Jaehee about it, she just shook her head and said that you guys needed a new computer and desk.

☂ Jumin ☂

Jumin kissed your temple, his hands lingering just above your waist. “Driver Kim will you have you at your parents house in less than three hours, and he will be there to pick you up when you’re vacation is over on the dot.”

You let out a small chuckle, pulling your husband in for a proper hug. “Don’t worry, it’s just my parents. Nothing is going to happen. No need to be so protective. Just enjoy the time you have with our son.”

Jumin nodded, looking down at the little boy who clung to your leg with a few tears in his eyes.

You frowned, kneeling down to kiss the boys head. “Don’t worry, honey, mommy will be home in a few days. You and daddy are going to have a lot of fun together.”

The little boy nodded, moving to cling onto Jumin, who grinned at the affection your son gave him.

It always made him happy when the little boy clung to him.

“I love you both, I’ll see you in a few days!” You said gathering your things, helping Driver Kim to put them in the car.

You waved goodbye through the window, and soon, the car was off in the distant and Jumin was left alone with his son.

He picked the boy up, bringing him back up to the penthouse and putting him down on the couch, turning the tv on for him.

“I have quite a bit of work to do, but I promise you when it’s done we can spend some time together. Just watch some TV for now and do some colouring.”

So much for enjoying the time you have with your son.

Markers, coloured pencils, scissors, coloured paper and glue was put in front of him and the TV was turned on to his favorite channel.

The little boy watched Jumin disappear down the hallway before entering his office and closing the door to work.

The boy began working on his arts and crafts, not really paying attention to the TV.

He stopped working though when he heard a small mewl and looked down to see Elizabeth the 3rd looking up at him.

“Kitty!” The boy claimed, sharing his father’s love for cats, and grabbed poor Elizabeth the 3rd who struggled a bit onto his lap.

His pets were kinda rough, but it was harmless! He loves Elizabeth as much as Jumin does.

The boys eyes lit up when he remembered a time that Jumin mentioned over dinner how much he wanted a scarf made of Elizabeth’s fur. The boy thought if he could glue together a scarf of Elizabeth’s hair, than maybe daddy would stop working and come play with him!

Grabbing the pair of scissors from the table, he started to cut Elizabeth’s hair, right down to the skin. Of course, he didn’t hurt Elizabeth though.

And at this point Elizabeth had basically given up on struggling and just accepted her fate, letting the little boy cut her hair.

When the boy was done, Elizabeth had some fairly noticeable bald spots.

The boy tried to glue together the hair in the shape of a scarf, but of course, it wouldn’t work, and the innocent boy began to cry as he found his project was a failure.

Hearing his son crying, Jumin immediately stopped his work and rushed to his son, but he stopped dead in his track as he saw all the fur scattered everywhere.

He then looked towards Elizabeth’s bed and let out a howl at the sight of all the bald spots and her fur cut off.

“S-son, what did you do?” he asked looking down at the crying boy.

“I wanted to make the scarf you wanted,” he said rather defeatedly.

Jumin sighed, calling the maid to come clean up the mess. He lifted his son up and decided work could be done later. He needed to spend time with his son now.

And then he would have to think of some way to make it up to Elizabeth for enduring the manhandling she surely would have faced.

☺ Seven/Saeyoung ☺

“I’m going to miss you so, so, so, so much!” Seven squealed swinging your laughing form around in his arms, the little girl that mirrored him laughing as well at her father’s silliness.

You grinned, bending down to kiss the top of her little head, her red hairs tickling your nose slightly.

“You’ll come home soon, right mommy?” The girl peeped.

“Of course,” you grinned. “You have fun with Daddy now. I’ll see you guys in a few days.”

The last thing you heard walking out the door was a squeal of joy as Seven lifted the little girl over his head and spun her around before running into the bunker.

He set the little girl down on the couch next to Saeran who was trying to watch tv.

“Now, little hacker, daddy has to do some work for a couple hours or Ms. Vanderwood - “Oui!” - will get mad at me. Can you be a good girl and sit here with your uncle and watch TV?” Seven asked with a cheeky grin and a higher pitched voice that had a little bounce to it.

The girl nodded, cuddling next to an uncomfortable Saeran. Seven gave her a nodd and a thumbs up before skipping off.

The little one did as her father asked for about an hour until she got really bored and Saeran had dozed off at this point.

She untangled herself from a blanket, careful not to wake her uncle, and went to the kitchen to get a snack.

She could hear the vacuum coming from the ‘headquarters’, which is what Seven calls his work room, so she knew that Vanderwood would not be there to stop her from getting any food.

Carefully, she climbed up on the counter and started rummaging through the shelves.

All that was in there were honey buddha chips.

Not really meaning to, she kinda… brushed them out of the shelves, and not expecting them to be open for god sakes, Saeyoung chips started flying every way and scattering all over the floor.

Panicking a little she jumped off the counter, landing on chips and ran to get Vanderwood for help. She didn’t want her father to see the mess she made.

However, Vanderwood had a bit of a mental break down when he saw the mess, and that ending up getting Seven and Saeran’s attention.

Seven wasn’t mad, he found the whole thing hilarious, and enjoyed taking pictures of the distraught Vanderwood in a pile of potato chips.

He became upset when he was tased though.

~~~

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Masterlist

#Yoosung Kim #Zen #Hyun Ryu #Jaehee Kang #Jumin Han #Seven #Luciel Choi #Saeyoung Choi #Mystic Messenger #Mystic Messenger Headcanon #Mysme #Mysme headcanon

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