#the screen separating the soul from you

[finalgirlfall]

How comes it to pass, that I cannot help being pleased with this virago's spirit, though I suffer by it? Had I her but here, I'd engage in a week's time to teach her submission without reserve. What pleasure should I have in breaking such a spirit! I should wish for her but for one month, in all, I think. She would be too tame and spiritless for me after that. How sweetly pretty to see the two lovely friends, when humbled and tame, both sitting in the darkest corner of a room, arm in arm, weeping and sobbing for each other!—And I their emperor, their then acknowledged emperor, reclined on a sophee, in the same room, Grand Signor-like, uncertain to which I should first throw out my handkerchief? (L198, robert lovelace to john belford)

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

That's so weird because my reaction to S4 finale is it was the moment that convinced me Buddie was going to be endgame. Now two seasons later and we could be heading back to that same ending for the season depending on the events of the finale leaves me doubting things ngl. The only things I'm clinging on to are the couch theory, Eddie saying that relationships with people you meet at a rescue never works, and the fact that we're being introduced to these women so late in the season. It just seems like the writers even know they're giving this the most superficial things so that they can fix what they did in early S7.

To put it bluntly it just sucks that you know if this was gonna be the final 2 episodes that instead of going towards a story they've been telling since S2 they decide to put Buck and Eddie with women we don't even know their last name or anything about them. But they got renewed and will be moving to ABC so they can do the story they wanted to tell and I imagine these women will be kicked to the curb early in S7.

Okay, I'm gonna be real honest with you. I've seen that you've sent asks to a few of my friends, all generally saying the same thing. So to see you send me this ask makes me feel like you don't really want to have a discussion and aren't looking for actual support or positivity, you just want to keep being upset and tell people until someone agrees with you and tells you that your opinion that the writers made a shitty choice etc is valid.

So, to repeat a few things my friends have said:

They have not been doing Buddie since season two. I don't know why people persist on claiming this. Buddie was never the original plan. They did not decide to have Eddie get with Buck in season two. In fact in season two they seemed kinda unsure what to do with Eddie since he wouldn't be with Maddie any longer, but they still wanted the character, and Ryan, on the show. For my money, they started exploring the possibility of Buddie and discussing it seriously in season three, and season four was when they locked that in.

Now, I don't know about you, since you're a stranger on the internet, but to me, as a writer, it is a much, much better choice for them to have taken the risk rather than cram Buddie together, for a few reasons.

One: They cannot walk it back once Buddie is together. You're telling me you wanted them to sacrifice their story's integrity to give us a rushed unsatisfying get-together? Get out of my house. Watching television is, inherently, a gamble because it means you might get your stories unfulfilled. If you can't take that risk, then leave the casino. I am willing to risk it because I want a truly satisfying get-together, not something that was rushed and therefore isn't worthy of the delicious slow burn they're building.

Two: How many times do I have to scream at everyone to consider the behind the scenes issues before people start actually listening to me? Oh, forever? Because everyone is operating in bad faith and nobody wants to actually listen? Good to know. This will be the last I say on the matter.

We do not know what behind the scenes was going on in addition to the cancellation. What if certain Fox executives weren't supportive of Buddie? You're telling me that the writers and cast and crew should have, right when they'll need new jobs, guaranteed that their last employers will talk shit about them for disobeying orders and putting two characters together that they were told not to put together?

This is purely conjecture on my part, but I have seen time after time in fandom certain cast members and certain crew members and certain writers want a ship to become canon, and others not, and I have seen the way that back and forth played out, and guess fucking what? NOBODY WANTS TO LOSE THEIR FUCKING JOB. NOBODY WANTS TO BE PREVENTED FROM HAVING ANOTHER JOB.

Now, again, that's pure conjecture, but Fox really hasn't treated OG well for a while in terms of renewal, marketing, etc. And I have never, EVER, seen a show snapped up by another network so quickly. It's always "we got cancelled!" and then a few days or weeks later it's "we were saved by another network!" ABC was ON it. This gives me hope for a lot of things, like perhaps a 22 episode season. But given Fox's lack of promotion and appreciation for OG, it wouldn't surprise me if the cast and crew wanted Buddie and some people in the network didn't, and that is why we've been delayed on Buddie going canon. And while YOU may cry viva la revolution, it's much easier to have your principles when you've got a belly full, and while it may suck creatively there is no reason to piss off your bosses right when you need them to write you a recommendation for a new job because your show got cancelled - and while I'm sure they were hopeful, given the cast's social media I do not think anyone knew until it was publicly announced that they had, indeed, been saved and gotten another season.

My point is, this is just one theory I'm pulling out of a hat like a rabbit. We do not know what other BTS stuff is going on that made them choose to delay Buddie until season seven.

Three: To go back to point one, I do not think you've seen the reactions when a ship goes canon poorly. I was there, Gandalf. I was there the day that Booth and Bones got together. I was in the trenches. It soured SO many people, including me, on the show. To quote MBMBAM: YOU DIDN'T STICK THE LANDING! YOU JUST FLIPPED IN THE AIR FOR TWENTY MINUTES!!!

Sticking the landing when getting a ship together is possibly the most important moment in the couple's story. You cannot fuck up that landing. The writers chose to take the chance on it never happening in order to stick the landing the way they wanted. If that pisses you off, FINE. But stop coming into our inboxes to say the same thing over and over again about it, because we do not agree and we are never going to agree. We are at an impasse.

Now, to move onto some other points, WHY IS EVERYONE CONVINCED THAT EDDIE WILL STILL BE WITH SOMEONE WHEN THE SEASON ENDS!? WHEN DID WE DECIDE THIS!? He could be! But holy shit he could just go on one date with her that fizzles out! We have no clue! If someone in this fandom can see into the future and knows for sure this is going to happen then give me the winning lotto numbers right this second!!! Give them to me!!!! I need to fund my world domination campaign!!!

And finally, I feel like you've answered your own concerns, here. Given that you have sent similar asks to my friends, I don't think you're actually interested in allaying those concerns, because you keep answering your own questions and repeating yourself ad naseum. I could be wrong. Again, I don't know you. But this sure seems to be the case given that you're saying to me similar stuff you've said to my friends in asks they've already answered.

But to look at your own ask, you just said why we shouldn't be worried. "It seems like the writers even know..." YES. YES, THEY DO KNOW. I would love to know who the hell decided that television shows are made by the Television Fairy who creeps into the studio at night and waves her magic wand to create all the good stuff we see on our screens while the writers sit around with their thumbs up their asses.

Let's imagine you are a showrunner and you are going into the second half of your season, and you learn that it is extremely likely this season is actually your last. You guys start negotiating quietly with other networks to move the show, while hoping against hope this is not, indeed, the end. But this means you now have, what, nine episodes? To put all your characters in a place that is, if not ideal, at least somewhat positive for your audience?

You can't start any too-major arcs. You can't end on too bad of an emotional cliffhanger. This means some things will wrap up faster. Other things will get pushed forward. And some things have to be delayed, because they might never happen, and you can't give people a third or a half of an arc. Which means that you're going to be throwing in some filler for those characters instead, and doing things differently than how you might have wanted.

I do not know how many times I have to explain this, but television is not fanfiction. When I sit down to write a fic, there's not a damn person in the world who can tell me what to do. I write the story that I want, and if someone doesn't like it, they can hit the bricks.

Television is not like that. Television is one of the biggest group projects there is. Picture the worst group project you had to do in school and then times it by ten. Welcome to the television and film industry. The fact that any film or show, even the truly awful ones, gets made is nothing short of a miracle given all the people involved and all the ways the ball can be dropped. As a show runner, you are answering to multiple executives, to the creators, to the executive producers, to your own writers' room, and to the fans. You are trying to balance what everyone tells you to do, what the fans want you to do, and what you and your (hopefully trusted) writing team want and plan to do. I could never be a show runner and while there are quite a few with whom I've got bones to pick, I cannot deny that they all do a job I would never, ever be capable of pulling off. I'd quit on day three.

So, yeah, they gave Buck a temporary girlfriend as filler, to kinda cap off his current arc if this was the end, or to provide more layers to his full arc if they got another season. If you don't like that, then that's okay. Nobody is telling you to like it. When you come into someone's inbox like this, the assumption is that you're looking to be reassured, and so that's why you're getting the responses that you are. The previous people who've answered you have been trying to reassure you and allay the concerns you seem to have.

But it seems to me like you want a more full conversation, and possibly, that you just want to rant and vent. That's fine, but find a friend for that. Join a discord server. Because when you send the same stuff over and over again to different people, all of whom give you basically the same reply, it just makes you look like a very obstinate stick in the mud who wants everyone else to join them in being upset, and people don't much like having the same conversation multiple times, or being pushed into being upset when they're not.

You might just have to agree to disagree, and move on. Find other ways to get this out of your system, because my inbox, and the inboxes of others, is not the place for your venting in circles.

Now, in spite of my firm tone, I hope you will believe me when I say that I hope you're taking care of yourself, and that you are staying safe in this scary world, and that you have a good rest of your day.

[arminsumi]

I WANT TO KISS YOU / キスしたい

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

you and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.

2.9k

Chapter index

Summary : you've come to visit Japan to meet these two boys you met online. Though Satoru can't speak English and you can't speak Japanese, the two of you still fall in love. Very cute. Very cheesy. Oh no... wait is there a tension between you and his best friend, too? Oh boy...

Warnings : romantic tension with Suguru / potential love triangle, cat scratch

Note : i think of this fic a lot and i found the continuation hiding out in my drafts sooo here 👍

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works

Satoru blinks awake to see your face. His heart beats harder.

結局昨日は夢ではなかったのか？ Yesterday was not a dream after all?

He's not an early bird at all, but from the first day of your visit he magically woke up early as if his soul was too excited to sleep when it knew you were right there, in the flesh. No screen. Just you.

When the first day starts, it feels like you've always been together. Was there ever a screen separating the two of you? And were you really going to disappear behind one again in just a month?

今のところ、彼女はここに留まるように感じています。彼女が訪問を終えて出発するとき、私は空港で赤ん坊のように泣くことになると思います。 For now, she feels like she's here to stay. I think I'm going to cry like a baby at the airport when she leaves after her visit.

Morning routines are carried out. The sky is cloudy at first, threatening rain, and by the time you three cluster into the kitchen to make breakfast together, it starts raining.

You and Satoru banter like two cats. Suguru's morning rasp is very strong.

"Satoru... uh... sugar?" you ask, preparing to make yourself a second one and automatically making Satoru another one, since he looks still very bleary-eyed even after spending an hour freshening up in the bathroom.

"...? Yes?" he tilts his head, then you raise the sugar cube jar. "Yes. Uh... four. Thank you."

Suguru's blushing because of the cute tension between you and his best friend. It fills the whole kitchen, which already felt full with their two bodies and a third one now. Everyone keeps bumping elbows and yet not complaining about it, in fact it's enjoyable to be squished together. Maybe because you three waited so long to be together in person, you don't mind it. There's a silent, ever-present comedy in the air about the tight proximity.

You hum happily, tossing in one, two, three... four? That's a lot of sugar. "Suguru, tell Satoru he mustn't have so much sugar all the time. It's not good for his health."

Suguru laughs. "I try to tell him that every day. But his sweet tooth is incurable."

"His dentist must hate him." you smirk at Satoru, who's been looking at you blushingly after hearing his name mentioned.

彼女の声が今では一番好きな音だと思います。 I think her voice is my favorite sound now.

もう一度私の名前を言ってください。 Please say my name again.

"Satoru? Coffee?" you interrupt his lovey-dovey thoughts and he suddenly reanimates himself, because for a moment there he zoned out and just stared at you with those pretty eyes.

"Mmm... thanks." he takes the coffee from you with a noticeable timidness that you can't quite explain. There's a lot about him that's indescribable, you're having a small internal crisis; aren't you supposed to be fluent in English? And yet you can't even begin to describe just how sweet and gentle Satoru behaves. The most you can do is use metaphors that barely justify him.

"Suguru, tell her... her voice is nice, and also sorry for cuddling you in my sleep (and that she can definitely kick me away at night if it bothers her.) Also!" (the three of you head into the living room, and Suguru habitually trips over the cat who stalks under his feet too quietly to notice) "Also tell her... if it rains today, does she still want to go out? Because if we go out in the rain, she might get sick. And I don't want her to get sick on her trip. Not that I'd mind taking care of you, Y/n, of course."

Suguru lets out a long sigh and pulls a funny face. You smile amusedly.

"...It's too early to be a translator..." he grumbles in English after Satoru overloads him.

"What? C'mon tell her everything I said!"

"Let me have my coffee first. How about the two of you write to each other?" he suggests, putting the rim of the cup to his lips and sipping languidly.

"Eh, fine." Satoru pouts, and stalks off into his bedroom to get his phone.

Then, when he's in his bedroom, his chest flutters for some reason when he sees your suitcase standing there opened and emptied into the free cupboard space. He takes his phone, smiles at the homely feeling of seeing your belongings in his room, and leaves.

"Oh..." he has a sudden idea, and remembers the magnetic drawing board that's hanging in the kitchen. He and Suguru usually use it for writing reminders to each other, like get milk or you're an idiot or sometimes it has doodles of Mint the cat with sunglasses on.

So he returns to you with this magnetic drawing board, and points at it meaningfully, then holds one finger up and bows his head as he begins writing very slowly.

Suguru's checking the weather forecast and muttering sour complaints under his breath to you. "Of course it would rain for three days just when you arrive... at least by the weekend it will be clear and sunny..."

"Mmm... it's alright. A little rain never hurt nobody." you respond.

"I like your optimism." Suguru compliments flippantly at first, but then continues; "It's really uplifting. I think Satoru said something about you being a joy once, he said it really poetically but I can't recall it now."

"Aw..." you dip your head beneath your coffee cup, hiding the bashful expression on your face, which Suguru chuckles at.

And then, for a long moment, you just stare and watch Satoru writing on the board. You're completely captured in this moment, completely captivated in his enveloping presence as he sits next to you. He has slow, meticulous wrist movements. His knees press together, like he's worried that he'll invade your personal space if he sits too comfortably close to you. Funny, considering he cuddled you all night and you had no complaints about it.

He's writing very simply and neatly, just like how he texts you. You're a bit baffled by the characters he's using, though he's trying his best to avoid using any kanji knowing that you don't know a lot of it. He's sure you can figure things out by slowly pronouncing each hiragana character, or at least he hopes.

"Here." he hands you the magnetic drawing board, and then raises from the couch to go feed the cat.

"Minto-Minto... " he calls after the cat and makes a small cute sound to lure her out.

You're trying to read each hiragana character, eyes squinting a bit.

Suguru leans in close to you. He just takes a look, but the proximity for some reason gives both of you butterflies.

"Ooh... that's cute." Suguru comments after reading what Satoru wrote. His voice reaches deep in your tummy.

"Hm... I'll spell it out and... figure it out... anyways, why did you name your cat Mint?"

"Oh... well. There's two reasons. So the first..." he sets down his coffee, like he's about to tell you a great story, "Is because Satoru watched this show called Tokyo Mew Mew growing up, and he liked the character Minto. So he calls her Minto. And then I agreed on calling her that, but I call her Mint, because I hate mint the herb."

"You — haha, wait what? You call her Mint because you hate mint?"

"Yes. I hate mint, both the herb and the cat. She hates me too, clearly." Suguru raises his hand to remind you of how the cat scratched him the night before.

"Such a cute Hello Kitty sticker..." you tease.

"Thank you. Only the manliest men wear Hello Kitty Bandaids."

"How did she scratch you anyways...?"

"Oh, she likes to hang out in the washing machine if Satoru accidentally leaves it open. And when I try take her out of her comfy spot, she scratches me."

You sympathize, "Poor thing."

"What, the cat or me?" Suguru laughs.

"The cat." you lie teasingly.

"Wow! And here I thought you were being sympathetic!" he raises his brows.

You giggle and look at him, eyes finally making contact — ooh no that's bad bad bad, better break it immediately. So the two of you look away like you've both just indulged in a taboo intimacy. His stomach flips.

"Minto has been fed. She gave me cuddles." Satoru comes back into the room, and you admire the feeling he brings with him.

"No scratches?" Suguru asks.

"No, obviously, she loves me more than you." Satoru cheeks.

"Fuck you, haha."

Satoru makes his voice lower and leans to Suguru, "(Did she figure out what I wrote yet?)"

"Y/n did you figure out what he wrote?" Suguru asks.

"I'm trying so hard. What does this part mean...?"

Suguru shakes his head and puts his hands up. "Like I said, I'm not Mr Translator in the mornings."

"But you've had your coffee! Please, just this part..." you beg, and he can't deny that sweet begging. He easily folds for it, just like when Satoru begs for anything.

"Okay, where — this? Uh... Satoru your handwriting isn't usually this neat, is it...? That part means... 'voice'."

"Oh... ohhh!" you suddenly realize, and then the boys swoon over you when you pronounce the characters out loud to yourself.

"Uh... I think I know what it means..." you feel your cheeks warm up from the crown to your jawline.

あなたのこえがすき。 a-na-ta-no-ko-e-ga-su-ki.

"I like your voice, too." you respond to Satoru, and he half-gets it and gives you a thumbs up.

"Thanks."

You look at each other and then promptly look away with shy smiles.

"You two are cute." Suguru comments.

"Ahah... ahah shut up... hey, the sky has cleared up." you point out.

"Ooh... it cleared up 'cuz Satoru walked back into the room."

You awe at what he said.

"?"

"Nothing."

"Hey, Translator — (stop talking about me behind my back!)"

Suguru chuckles, "I wasn't! I was just — never mind. Let's get ready to head out."

And so you head into Satoru's bedroom to get ready, and Suguru heads into his bedroom, and Satoru himself goes into the cramped bathroom. Poor boy. He's really too tall for that archway, he bumped his head again.

彼女に花を買ってあげるべきでしょうか？それともちょっと多すぎますか？ Should I buy her flowers? Or is it a bit too much?

（なんてことだ）、なぜこのシャツには穴が開いているのでしょう？ (Oh my god), why does this shirt have holes?

The door slides open, he steps out of the bathroom half-dressed, and intends to quickly slip into Suguru's bedroom to borrow a shirt instead of awkwardly knocking on his bedroom door and disturbing you.

But oh, you know what? The cheesiest possible thing happens instead. The universe likes making Satoru's life a little more fun in odd times. So the two of you encounter each other in the hallway; you're fully clothed and he's got just pants and socks on.

He stutters once, swallows awkwardly, and even more awkwardly places his hand on your head as if to say sorry for this inconvenience.

But you laugh in response to the funny situation.

ああ、またあの美しい笑い声。 Ah, that beautiful laugh again.

"Sorry." he mutters, and disappears to go get a shirt from Suguru.

"It's okay." you reply.

The image of your pretty smile is burned in his head.

You can hear him telling Suguru something in the other room, and then you hear Suguru's muffled laugh as a response.

"(Don't laugh! I'm embarrassed! She's seen me shirtless now! No one's seen me shirtless except you!)"

"(You're such a virgin.)"

"(Say that again, I dare you.)"

"(Sorry, I don't understand you. I don't speak virgin, only English and Japanese.)"

You're wondering why Satoru sounds so embarrassed and annoyed, and then he groans down the hallway. It feels like you're their roommate, it's funny.

"Hi."

"Hi."

The two of you encounter each other in the hall again. This time he has a shirt, yes. And this time Suguru is there, too, and he's holding back an amused smile. He fluffs Satoru's hair as a way of embarrassing him more.

So Satoru leaves, and he leaves in such a way that it's super comedic, making you and Suguru laugh. Ooh, what a laugh that boy has; his Addam's apple shifts up and down deliciously.

"Ah... Suguru? I need help with the washing machine..."

"Yes...?"

"...this kid on the plane who sat next to me, he spilled strawberry juice all over my shirt and now it's sticky."

"But at least it smells like strawberries, right?" he jokes. "You can put it in the washing machine, I'll be doing the laundry in a second anyways..." there is a small moment of eye contact shared, then Suguru looks down, and frowns at something he sees, "(SATORU YOU LEFT YOUR SOCK ON THE FLOOR AGAIN!)"

"(Haha, sorry.)" you hear Satoru half-heartedly apologize from the other room.

So Suguru picks up the sock like an annoyed mother and goes to lecture Satoru.

"(You're embarrassing me in front of our guest. For the love of god, don't leave your goofy ass socks on the floor. What if she slips on them?)"

"(You're such a mother, Suguru.)"

You're calmly and casually going to put your juice-stained shirt in the washing machine like Suguru said, but then...

(the boys are talking and there's just this hilariously dramatic scream from the laundry room)

"DID THE CAT SCRATCH YOU?"

"(Did the cat scratch her?)"

"Ow, y-yeah!" you whine.

Suguru's the first one at the crime scene, and he picks up the cat and proceeds to lecture the cat as if it understands Japanese. It licks its lips and nubby nose and has an evil stare. You giggle.

"I'm so sorry... come, uh — (Suguru, we still have Hello Kitty adhesives somewhere, right?)" Satoru instinctually holds your hand that got scratched.

And he holds it so tenderly and caringly that it makes your whole chest quake for him.

彼女の手の傷はとても小さなものですが、それでも私は心臓がチクチクするのを感じました。 Although the wound on her hand was very small, I still felt my heart tingle.

He leads you to his bedroom, picking up some adhesives and antiseptic on the way, and sits with you on the unmade beds. You watch his fingers nimbly peeling the plastic off the adhesive, admiring how swiftly and perfectly he does even the littlest things. He has such a great attention to detail, it makes you self-conscious; is he thinking of you with the same attention to detail as everything else? Yes... he is.

He dabs some antiseptic on your small scratch, and then gently wraps and pats the Hello Kitty adhesive around it. You're pretty sure he's the one who bought them. Oh, if only you could ask him, but where even is your phone? Lost in a void somewhere, probably.

"Thank you, Satoru."

His eyes light up. His heart thumps. Why did those small, simple words have such a great effect on him?

"Mhm." he hums in acknowledgement. "You're welcome."

あなたの傷がもっと良くなるようにキスしたいです。 I want to kiss your wounds to make them better.

A second after thinking this and looking at your hand, he brings it to his lips and presses a very delicate kiss to the edge of your wrist, where the small cut spanned up to the base of your palm. Can you even call it a kiss? It's more like his lips graze your skin, hovering timidly.

And for some reason... the atmosphere becomes very intimate. Is it because of the place where he kissed you? The inner wrist has never occurred to you to be an intimate spot, and yet you're feeling as if he just kissed you on the lips.

You hear him audibly swallow, like he's conscious of this, too. The both of you become very aware of the tension in the atmosphere.

And then he looks apologetic, as if he overstepped a boundary. So you mutter a small, whispery "thanks..." which lifts his heart up into his throat and reassures him that you don't mind the intimacy.

"Mmm..." he blinks at you, pursing his lips.

His eyes linger on your lips for a moment, and it feels like he's about to... well you know his body just wants to... he sort of...

"Hey, how's the wounded patient?" Suguru interrupts, and you and Satoru spring apart like you're elastic bands that just got released after being stretched.

"Ahah, I'm okay. It's not a bad scratch." you lift your hand, "I'll cherish this Hello Kitty Bandaid forever, thank you."

"Yeah, Satoru bought 'em so you can thank him."

"I knewww he bought them, haha! So expected... cutiepie." you admire Satoru, and he's pretty sure that the last thing you said is some cute nickname, so he smirks.

"Okay, well... anyways, let's head out before the sun rises too high and it gets too hot to walk."

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[suguae]

Haunted

part one - part two

જ synopsis. After months of longing and uncertainty, you reunite with your ex-boyfriend Toji and his son Megumi at a nearby diner, where the warmth of their presence fills you with hope for a fresh start and a renewed sense of family.

જ pairings. T. Fushiguro x Fem! Reader

જ a/n. You thought I'd give you guys the silent treatment for month again, probably. But I'm back and I'm going to try my best to upload normal again, keyword TRY.

Six months had passed since the last echo of Toji's voice had graced your ears, each day stretching into an eternity of longing and uncertainty. The memory of his deep, resonant tone lingered like a gentle caress against your skin, stirring a tempest of emotions within you. As you navigated the labyrinth of your thoughts, one question loomed larger than all the rest: was Toji doing okay?

Was he still grieving over his dead wife, or had he begun to heal? And if so, was he ready to love you anew, to embark on a journey of rediscovery and redemption together?

The piercing ring of the phone shattered the fragile sanctuary of your thoughts, jolting you back to the stark reality of the present moment. Your heart quickened its pace as you glanced towards the source of the sound, the glow of the screen casting an eerie illumination in the dimness of your tiny apartment.

Toji's name flashed boldly on the display, a beacon of light cutting through the darkness of the night. A surge of emotions welled up within you—surprise, anticipation, and a tinge of apprehension—all swirling together in a tumultuous whirlwind.

It felt like a sign, as if he had heard the silent echoes of your thoughts reverberating through the ether. Could it be mere coincidence, or something more? The very idea sent shivers down your spine, igniting a flicker of hope within the depths of your soul.

With trembling fingers, you reached out to answer the call, the weight of uncertainty heavy upon you. Was this the moment you had been waiting for, the chance to bridge the chasm that had separated you two for so long? 

You brought the phone to your ear, the anticipation hung thick in the air, each heartbeat echoing the rhythm of your longing. You couldn't help but wonder if perhaps, just perhaps, fate had finally decided to intervene.

Thoughts of Megumi danced on the periphery of your consciousness. Were you guys finally ready to confront the demons of your past and embrace the promise of a brighter future?

The word slipped from your lips like a fragile prayer, carrying with it the weight of all the unspoken hopes and fears that had lingered between you two for so long. "Hello?" you repeated, the sound hanging heavy in the air, waiting for Toji's response to break the silence.

For a moment, there was nothing but the steady thrum of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. And then, finally, a soft exhale on the other end of the line, the faint rustle of movement as Toji gathered his thoughts.

"Hey," his voice came, soft and tentative, yet infused with a warmth that washed over you like a gentle wave. The sound of it sent a shiver down your spine.

you held your breath, waiting for him to continue, the anticipation mounting with each passing second. And then, with a quiet resolve, you spoke again.

"It's been a while," you said, the understatement hanging heavy between the two, a testament to the distance that had grown between you both in the wake of your shared pain. "How have you been?"

The question lingered in the air, pregnant with meaning, a silent plea for honesty and vulnerability in the face of the uncertain future. And as you waited for Toji's response, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps, just perhaps, this conversation was the first step towards healing the wounds that had long divided you both.

Toji's words hung in the air like a delicate melody, each syllable carrying with it the weight of a thousand unspoken truths. "I miss everything about you," he confessed, his voice soft yet filled with a longing that echoed in the depths of your soul. The vulnerability in his words was palpable, a raw honesty that stirred something deep within you.

As his plea washed over you, you felt a flood of emotions surge to the surface—love, longing, and a flicker of hope amidst the shadows of your past. The ache of separation had carved a chasm between you, but in that moment, his words bridged the gap with an unspoken promise of reconciliation and renewal.

"I need to see you," he implored, the urgency in his tone resonating with the echoes of your own heart's desires. The longing in his voice tugged at the strings of your soul, igniting a spark of courage within you.

With a steady resolve, you met his plea with a whisper of your own, "I need to see you too." The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of all that had been left unsaid, yet brimming with the potential of what could be.

Toji's insistence reverberated through the phone, his words a fervent plea for connection and reunion. "We can meet up, somewhere… anywhere, baby, just tell me," he urged, the desperation in his voice pulling at the strings of your heart. The prospect of seeing him again, of bridging the chasm that had separated you for so long, filled you with a heady mix of anticipation and apprehension.

And then, as if a beacon had been lit in the darkness, he spoke his name—Megumi. Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of him, a rush of emotions flooding your senses. He wasn't your child, not biologically at least, but the bond you shared transcended bloodlines. From the moment you had met him, he had nestled his way into the deepest recesses of your heart, filling a void you never knew existed.

The thought of seeing Megumi again, of wrapping him in your arms and showering him with the love he deserved, sent a surge of warmth coursing through your veins. He was a constant presence in your thoughts, a beacon of light in the darkness that had enveloped your life.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes, let's meet." The words hung in the air, heavy with anticipation and the promise of a reunion long overdue. And as you made plans to come together once more, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settle over you—a quiet reassurance that, no matter what the future held, you would face it together, as a family.

During the aftermath of the breakup, you found yourself spiraling into a dark abyss of self-destructive behavior. Drinking became a crutch, a futile attempt to numb the ache that gnawed at your soul. Overworking became a distraction, a way to bury yourself in tasks and responsibilities to avoid facing the gaping void left by Toji's absence. And as the days stretched into weeks and months, the toll of neglecting your own well-being became painfully apparent.

It was all too easy to place blame on Toji, to cast him as the villain in the narrative of your shared pain. But deep down, you knew the truth—it wasn't his fault, not entirely. You had chosen to entangle yourself with a widower, knowing full well the complexities and challenges that came with loving someone who was still grieving.

Yet despite the turmoil raging within you, a glimmer of clarity began to emerge amidst the chaos. The realization that no amount of self-destructive behavior could mend the shattered pieces of your heart, nor could it bridge the chasm that had grown between you and Toji.

Slowly but surely, the bad habits began to wane, replaced by a newfound determination to confront the unresolved issues head-on. You stopped reaching for the bottle as a temporary salve for your pain, recognizing that true healing could only come from within. You eased up on the relentless pursuit of productivity, learning to prioritize self-care and introspection over the relentless pursuit of perfection.

It wasn't an easy journey, fraught with setbacks and moments of doubt. But with each passing day, you grew stronger, more resilient in the face of adversity. And as you looked back on the tumultuous path that had led you to this moment, you realized that the key to finding peace lay not in blaming others, but in taking ownership of your own happiness and well-being.

As the agreed-upon time approached, a sense of anticipation and nervous energy coursed through your veins. The prospect of seeing Toji again after months apart filled you with a heady mix of emotions—hope, uncertainty, and a tinge of excitement. The void that had loomed large in your heart in his absence now seemed poised to be filled, if only for a fleeting moment.

You arrived at the nearby diner with a fluttering heart and a whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind. The familiar sights and sounds of the cozy establishment offered a sense of comfort amidst the uncertainty that lay ahead. The soft glow of the lights, the gentle hum of conversation, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped you like a warm embrace.

As you stepped inside, you scanned the room anxiously, searching for Toji's familiar figure amidst the sea of faces. And then, there he was, sitting at a corner table, his gaze locked on yours as if he had been waiting for you all along.

Sitting next to Toji was the little toddler, his bright eyes sparkling with excitement at your appearance. You couldn't help but smile as you caught his gaze, feeling a warmth spread through you at the sight of him. Megumi reached out eagerly towards you, his tiny hand outstretched in silent invitation.

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[signedkoko]

HEHEHHEE OPEN REQUESTS???

Hello koko! I was summoned by your open requests, and I just had an idea, how about headcanons/one shot for Alastor and Vox (separately) with a reader who has powers a bit like Toge Inumaki in JJK?( I saw that you were watching JJK so I assume you know how his powers works) like what do they think about it? how do they react when reader uses her powers? How they communicate with her?

THANKS FOR READING MY REQUEST DEAR KOKO! HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT

-🐚

Alastor | Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which your speech causes action, so you can't speak unless you wish to control others. Reader is female.

When you first came to the hotel, Alastor was not impressed

You were certainly a gorgeous sight, but it was ruined by the device in your hands that you had your nose buried in, screen lighting ruining your face

It took him quite a while when he heard strings of words emanating from the device to realize you were speaking through it, your fingers pressing on keys faster than he could follow

You introduced yourself to everyone that day, as a new hire for the hotel, and how you couldn't speak but hoped it wouldn't get in the way

He was certainly irked by the device in your hands, but it was funny to see someone so weak that they had to rely on a flimsy device made by an even flimsier overlord

Truly a shame

You learn the hard way not to get too close to him while using your device, or else it starts to act up and get damaged

Alastor still spoke to you; of course he did! Because he was amused knowing you couldn't retort

But eventually, without noticing, he would talk more and more, filling every aspect of the silence between you

You were the best listener, both since you had no choice and because you didn't give any shitty advice

The only thing that weirded him out was the weird clicking he started to hear around you

Something about it was so familiar

J-E-R-K-J-E-R-K-J-E-R

When he looked down at your hand and saw a clicker in your hand, he realized what you were doing

Of course he knew morse code by heart! He studied all sorts of things, but he wasn't sure why you'd do things that way when you had a much easier device

Unless you did it just for him?

R-K-J-E-R-K-J

" And who are we calling names, my voiceless companion? "

Y-O-U

Still, it's very touching to see you go from using your phone to putting it away when you come to him to talk

And not much changes since you can't get out too many words with your morse method

One evening, while on a walk together, Alastor was reciting to you how he'd come to work for Charlie and how she sang on the news for so many to see! When a group of assassins surrounded the two of you, angel steel weapons were on full display

Before Alastor handled them—which, let's be fair, would be no issue to him—you pulled quicker on the draw

" COMATOSE. "

You yelled it with your hands clamped over Alastors ears, and the instant the word came out, they all dropped, beyond unconcious

Alastor laughs, because wow, that was quite the display!

But he's already dragging you over them to continue talking, now teasing you for treating him like a helpless damsel

He was certainly glad that he hadn't made an enemy of you when he first saw you, because you may stand a chance against him with an ability like that

Most sinners had some kind of ability that grew with their power, often souls under contract or training enhancing them

Vox himself had plenty of tricks under his sleeves, and he'd seen the most pathetic of abilities to those worth cowering before

But he'd never heard of something like yours

Overlords loved showing off their resources, which could include people who became very useful in battle

You were a 'friend' of Zestial, though, while most jumped at the opportunity to introduce themselves to other overlords, you only waved

Of course you piqued his interest, because when he ran his servers over you, he found little to nothing beyond pictures

After several days of stalking video feeds, he caught you and Zestial together when—oh fuck! You sign!

While he could have just waited for the next opportunity, Vox was far too invested in your story and opted to pay Zestial a visit, if it meant he could see you

From what he could tell, you were using ASL, so once he bumped into you he began signing his typical introduction

Something about his heart sparked when he saw you smile, the way those curious eyes sparkled

He was immediately embarrassed when you revealed he didn't have to sign because you could hear

But he was all healed when you signed that you were very glad to have met someone else you could talk with

Vox is used to the overstimulation of noises from news, music, footage, all of it always beaming into his head so much that the silence around you is eerie and takes him awhile to get used to

Zestial certainly has an ace; one Vox is jealous of

Since you got along so well, you and Vox schedule meet-ups so you can interact, seeing as he and Zestial are almost exact opposites

The first time he witnesses your powers is when Alastor shows up at one of your meetings, and he was certainly trying to embarrass Vox in front of you

But Vox was your friend, and you had no tolerance for Alastors threats

" Silence. "

From your lips poured a thick fog, which whisped its way over Alastor's mouth, forming a seal that prevented him from speaking

The radio demon wasn't pleased, but he wasn't about to act up a scene right now, so he turned and left

Vox immediately fanboys because, oh my FUCKING GOD, you showed him!!!

Wait, you can talk? You sound like that?

YOUR POWERS DID THAT???

He is about to waste your evening asking all kinds of things, you probably can't sign as fast as he can ask, too

Author's Note - Conch anon gets only the BEST of the BEST!!! I did like writing these anyways though, because i adore Inumaki...thank you for requesting!

[mournings-stars]

could i have anything with a married vox x reader pleasee? i'm so obsessed with this television it isn't even funny 😭

okay im FINALLY publishing this — in my defense i wrote like five vox x wife!readers after getting this and couldn't decide which to publish to this ask but now yall are getting over protective husband vox cus i love him and now i wanna make an actual fic also i originally read this request as wife!reader so i made reader fem but I'm just now realizing it's married i hope that's okay!!

warning: vox is a little crazy and reader does not care

No one knew Vox was married — and it wasn’t because he wanted to hide you, or he felt ashamed. He could never feel ashamed; you were basically his pride and joy — It was because he couldn’t stand anyone trying anything with you. Especially because of how much he doted on you. Someone could easily see how much he cared and use it against him — they could hurt you, manipulate you, maybe even force you into a soul-binding deal. He couldn’t risk anything happening to you.

That was why you lived very separate lives… Well, not entirely separate. He couldn’t stand letting you work for someone else (they could take advantage of you, or try to flirt with you), and he couldn’t handle being too far away from him during the day, so you worked at VoxTek. You had a job where you never interacted with your husband, and it left your days feeling exceptionally lonely. Especially because he claimed that he “didn’t want to overwork you,” which meant he stayed at the office much later than you did and you were left at home. Alone for most of the night, usually falling asleep before he got there, and waking without him because he went in earlier than you. 

You also had weekends off while he worked a good portion of the day, which let you “go out on the town” of course, but it also left you, again, very lonely. He did email you throughout the day, but that was because no one could see those emails. It was “an outdated form of communication” as he called it, which meant no one looked through them. 

Of course, when you did get to see him, you were ecstatic. He went on and on about how much he missed you all week, subtly asking if anyone had bothered you at all. If they did, they very coincidentally disappeared, so you often told him “no” for the sake of your coworkers’ souls.

And of course, after some time, people did start to bother you. They would get promoted, and get the chance to work with your husband directly, while you stayed exactly where you were and didn’t even get a call from him. That led them to teasing, which turned into snide comments and remarks, which became little “accidents” like spilling hot coffee on you or ruining and deleting your work. 

One day, after someone dumped piping hot coffee all over you, and a very expensive blouse your husband bought, you had enough and backhanded her. 

You were an overlord’s wife, and he gave you everything. Even and especially power. That meant the employee was flung across the room while screens burst and crackled around her, and you were dragged up to Vox’s office. 

“What is it now?” Vox asked when your supervisor knocked on his door, ignoring your wincing as you tried to get the scalding hot coffee-stained blouse as far from your skin as possible. 

“Another low-class bitch ruining our image,” was the response that made you laugh, knowing this person would be dead as soon as they opened the door. 

“Ah…” He sighed, but you knew he was smiling. “Come in.” He was probably going through his weaponry, pulling out just the thing to get rid of the “low-class bitch,” but as soon as the door was opened, you were shoved in front of him, and his weapon went off, you weren’t the one to fall limply to the ground. 

The two employees who opened the door quickly dragged the supervisor away and left you alone in the room. 

As soon as they were gone, he discarded his weapon and went to you. “What happened to you?” He wiped under your big eyes as he cupped your cheeks, which were dry, but he could tell you were upset and he was doing his best not to go out and get rid of everyone in your department. 

“I hit someone,” you said, and he found it adorable. There wasn’t much you could do wrong in his eyes. 

Clearly. 

“What’d they do to make that happen? I’ll kill them,” was his quick response before he cleared his throat. “I mean, I’ll talk to them about it.” His eyes drifted down to your blouse, his screen blinking and hands twitching on your face before they went to your blouse and began unbuttoning. He didn't say anything else, electricity zapping between his fingers as he fumbled with the buttons until he cursed and ripped the blouse open. The buttons clattered to the floor as he muttered, “I’ll get — get — get you a new one,” screen buffering and electricity zapping over his entire body. “Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so.” You knew not to tell him how much it burned with the way he was reacting already. “Vox—“

“After I take care of you, you're going to point out who did this, and who watched it happen. Understood?” He knew you tried to spare your coworkers from his temper, but he wasn’t going to let that happen this time. 

“It’s happened before—“ A loud whir of electricity sounded as Vox’s screen flashed and blue jolts of electricity burst around him. You shrunk back at the overwhelming power, quickly telling him, “I’m fine–”

“You didn’t tell me?” His voice sounded electric, making you swallow as he removed his overcoat to use as a towel to pat your chest dry. He couldn’t even enjoy the sight of you at work, topless, when this was the reason. He watched the way you winced with every touch of his jacket on you, fingers sparking at the redness he could see beneath the coat. His body jolted and the overcoat immediately sparked fire. “Fuck!” He tossed it to the ground, stepping on it to put the fire out. 

“You need to relax,” you told him pointedly. “I’m fine. You’re overreacting.”

“You’re underreacting,” he said childishly, taking in a deep breath before going to a closet in the large room and grabbing a spare blouse for you and an overcoat for him. At the sight of the many things he had to give to you and spoil you with in there, he calmed only slightly. “Did you at least hit her hard?” He asked as he handed you the blouse. You hummed, nodding and making a very prideful smile come to his face as you buttoned up the blouse. “Do you like this one?” He asked quickly, his evident mood shift into wanting to please you making you chuckle. “It’s not as expensive as the one that cunt ruined,” you hummed along to satiate his ego, “but I thought you’d make it look good.” Before you could say anything, he continued. “I have some more I got for you; do you want to see those instead?”

“I like this one. You picked it.” His screen buffered as he cleared his throat, a pink glow on his cheeks that he quickly got rid of. When you noticed he began to relax, you took the opportunity of being in his office to your advantage, sweetly asking, “Can we have a moment together before you go down and fire half your company?”

“Anything you want, dear,” he said, much more cheerful than he was moments ago. “Do you want anything to eat? Drink? I’ll call something up.” He went to the desk at the end of the room as you went to the seating area and sat on the sofa. “Where should I order from?”

“Vox, you’re at work. You shouldn’t order anything,” you had to remind him of his own rules he set for himself. “They’ll see me here–”

“Are you wearing your ring?” He asked, speaking over you.

“I’m always wearing my ring.”

He nodded, looking down at his matching golden band. “Let them see.” In the moment you gave him to think, he’d come to the more rational conclusion that he wouldn't harm anyone. Just that he’d terrify them to death by making it known that you were not to be touched ever again. “I’ll make sure everyone knows who they decided to fuck with today.”

[caitlinsclark]

FEELIN 22 caitlin clark caitlin clark x singer!reader | summary: caitlin's celebrity crush is discussed during jada's live. based on this request. ✰ part of my 500 follower celebration! word count: 2.2k masterlist and tag list

It was an innocent question, one that was offered by a viewer of Jada’s live. Kate, Gabbie, Caitlin, and Jada were in the weight room, separated at their chosen machines. 

“Who is one celebrity you’d like to see come to one of our games?” Jada read aloud to the group, tapping her lips in thought.

Caitlin was all too eager to scream your name from out of frame, hopping over with an excited smile as she pulled out her phone. Upon turning the screen toward the camera, viewers could see she already had your song playing in her AirPods. But that wasn’t enough as she disconnected the bluetooth on her phone and played the song out of her speakers.

“I was enchanted to meet you,” Caitlin danced around, running circles in the room with a newfound energy, “Please don’t be in love with someone else, please don’t have somebody waiting on you!” Her voice cracked with the volume of her singing voice.

“Yeah,” Caitlin breathed out with a huge smile after, her dimples making an appearance, “She’s been my favorite.” 

The girls had shielded their faces from the camera, trying their best to hide the knowing glances they shared. Caitlin basically skipped back off the camera, returning to her machine as she continued to hum the beat of your song. 

“So that’s Caitlin’s, if you couldn’t tell,” Jada laughed, scrolling through the comments who all were freaking out about Caitlin’s enthusiasm. There was a huge overlap between your fan bases, unknown to both of you, but it was there.

TikTok was your best friend and Caitlin’s worst as it flooded with the edited clip of her singing your song. The basketball player was doubtful you’d see something like that. But with the amount of both your and her fans spam tagging you, she wasn’t too sure after all.

And luckily it ended up on the top of your FYP, reposted by ESPN themselves which was even funnier. You watched in content as the brunette strained her vocal cords to show the love for your music. You couldn’t see your reflection as you watched, but knew the dumb smile on your face said far too much.

With all the instigation energy you possessed in your soul, you decided to actively tease not only your fans but Caitlin too. Upon seeing that there was an Iowa game currently streaming, you turned on the TV and leaned back to get comfortable on the hotel bed. After a few beats, you pulled out your phone to take a sly picture and posted it to your story. If Caitlin’s jersey number was front and centered, that was simply an accident of timing. 

Though it wasn’t an accident when you joined Jada’s live the next time you were free, giggling evilly when you saw that Caitlin was indeed there too in the room with her.

Jada’s eyes widened at the comments that seemed to speed up three times faster at the presence of your username, “Who’s here?” She furrowed her eyebrows, only to gasp when you sent a ‘hi’ in the chat.

‘JOIN’ ‘LET HER ON THE LIVE’ ‘INVITE HER AS A GUEST’ the comments flooded and Jada made quick work of doing just that, wordless at the fact that you had stumbled onto her stream.

“It’s for you,” Jada tossed the phone to Caitlin immediately and stood back, hitting her other friends to get their attention. Caitlin made a face as she looked at the screen, only seeing a buffering icon when she angled it to face her.

Until your smiling face replaced it and she almost squeaked in shock. Caitlin rubbed her eyes, feeling like this was some dream she was about to wake up from.

“Are you like,” She moved the camera far away before bringing it closer to analyze the picture, “real?”

“No, I was the baby brought by the stork like your parents told you about,” You nodded, pursing your lips as she broke out into a tiny smile, progress from the nervousness clear on her face.

“Makes sense, you’re too flawless anyway.” The compliment rolled off her tongue naturally. 

You remembered what it was like to have a celebrity crush, and she was showing practically every sign under the sun as she blushed under your gaze when you hadn’t spoke up right away.

“So I heard I could make dreams come true by coming to one of your games?” You twirled a piece of your hair around your finger slowly, giving her a thoughtful look.

“Many,” Caitlin nodded shamelessly, her dimpled smile accompanying it, “Even more if you did it in a ’22’ jersey.” Her shy demeanor seemed to weather away in your presence, ignoring her friends cackling in the background.

It was the start to a long talking stage, one that the two of you kept away from the public. Your fans had eventually died down on the hype of your overlapping circles, falling to the back of their minds when there had been no new content. With Caitlin working hard in training and you working hard on your tour, you hadn’t had any chances to meet up.

So the second that she had a few days off in her schedule, you were the first person she called. 

“Not to be too forward or anything, but I may have a few days in between shows.” And the way mesmerizing way you bit your lip in anticipation, as if she’d say no, had her saying yes even faster.

You two had spent the entire week together, tucked away and blissfully out of prying eyes. Caitlin had made the choice to rent a place a little ways out of the city you’d be performing in and you didn’t even hesitate to say yes to staying with her.

You’d baked cookies while she sat gleefully on the counter, more interested in watching you than learning how to bake. She’d pulled you onto her lap while watching basketball, convincing you that you needed to be able to hear her better to understand what was going on.

The pair of you were passing back and forth a basketball out on the asphalt underneath the hoop the owners had installed. Caitlin passed it to you, shifting her feet quickly to guard you as you made moves toward the net.

“Oh!” You screamed, dribbling past her with an impressive speed that she tried to match, “Oh! Oh!” You chanted dramatically as you shot the ball after faking her out. It didn’t quite make it in, which had you staring in disappointment as it bounced off the rim. It wasn’t able to make it far before Caitlin grabbed it mid air and pushed it back into the hoop, cheering for you this time. You laughed at her, playfully hitting away her hands as she tried to tickle the frown off your face.

She pulled you in tight, wrapping her arms so protectively around your neck that you had no choice but to melt into her. Your head laid comfortably against the muscle of her arm.

She brushed her thumb against your back soothingly, completely enamored with the way your popstar persona seemed to subside in her presence.

It warmed her heart to know that despite being two major public figures, you kept the most humane parts residing here, in the privacy of her basketball court under the night stars with your arms around one another.

She had been love drunk enough to follow you to the next stop, something that didn’t take too much convincing after the coldness of her bed without you in it awoke her brutally.

In a simple week, the warmth of your presence managed to make everything else seem cold in the middle of summer. That’s how Caitlin wound up in the tent, singing proudly and loudly all of your songs right back to you. A drink in her hand that had barely been touched with how into the show she was.

It was the last song of the night, so you naturally had to end it with a bang. You’d been sneakily planning this for the last week.

Caitlin had exited the tent, lingering in between the stage and barricades so she could be closer to you. She waved to a few fans who called out her name but blocked them out the second you started talking again.

“So I decided to pull a song out of the archives,” You adjusted the mic, standing up and adjusting the pleated skirt fluttering around your thighs. “I’m just feeling 22.” You shrugged playfully, basking in the screams that the crowd let out at the double entendre, but they didn’t realize the half of it.

The familiar beat of ’22’ started up and you stood with your hands behind your back innocently, letting the cheers erupt and reactions settle in before beginning to sing.

You adjusted the hat on your head, twirling around as you sang, “I don’t know about you.”

You nudged one of your backup dancers dramatically, playing up the next line and you fed off of the roars the crowd let out.

Caitlin’s head tilted back in a laugh, covering her mouth to hide the huge grin forming as she looked adoringly in your direction.

She watched in awe as you pranced around the stage, brushing her hand and squeezing tightly when you passed by.

Her phone hadn’t left the grip of her hand as she recorded you in your element, beaming as she sang the words right back to you. She was almost as breathless as you on stage just from watching.

“I hope you guys don’t mind me bringing out a special guest?” You screamed breathlessly into the mic, the instrumentals took over during the bridge as you took a break from prancing around the stage.

Caitlin’s eyes widened and her jaw went slack from her spot within the safety of the gated off area. The crowd next to her screamed bloody murder, pointing excitedly at her as you approached where she stood sheepishly.

But with the electricity of the crowd’s screams and your smile right at her, she had no choice but to grab your hand and let you lead her up onto the stage.

The entire scene felt cinematic as you intertwined your fingers and leaned into Caitlin’s side, letting the screams and cheers soak in. Her grin was infectious as she let herself get sucked into the glow of your skin and sparkly outfit.

Your hand didn’t leave hers as you put the microphone back up to your mouth, pulling her alongside you down the strip of the stage. “It feels like one of those nights!” The crowd sang along with you, cheering louder as Caitlin twirled you around once you reached the end of the of the stage. The smile could be heard in your voice as she pulled you back into her with a lovesick smile. “I gotta have you,” You finished with a large exhale, breathless by not only the song but the exhilaration of sharing this moment with her.

You turned around at the end of the stairs, facing Caitlin with a devious look on your face. She rose her eyebrows as you lifted the hat off your own head and plopped it on hers, refusing to look away from her eyes despite the bright lights and distracting screams.

Confetti fell around you both, prompting joyous laughter from not only you and Caitlin, but your backup dancers as you all pranced off the stage.

She placed the hat back on your head, sliding her hands through your hair to rest on your neck. You didn’t need any persuasion when you practically pounced on her, letting the energy of the screams around you fuel you to pull her down to your level and connect your lips. 

She eagerly pulled you in closer, taking a few stumbled steps back and protectively leading you back into the tent, refusing to let you go yet. You couldn’t get enough of one another, though it became hard to keep up through the large smiles both of you were sporting.

“Is it weird if I hang this up on my wall?” She asked as she twirled the hat around in her palms. Fan first, girlfriend second, you were reminded.

You laughed, stumbling a little in your heels in a moment of adoration and Caitlin took advantage of it by sliding her arm around your waist. You welcomed the hold, laying your hand on hers and resting your head on her arm to look up at her.

You mulled the idea over in your head, playfully scrunching up your features in thought, “Not weird if I can get a signed jersey for mine.”

“Deal.” She scoffed like she’d won the lottery in that trade, you had to stop your cheeks from warming at the amount of support she’d shown you.

She gasped, a level of enthusiasm that jarred you a bit in the opposing serene environment, “Can I ride one of the bikes out next time?” In reference to the bikes your backup dancers rode during the show.

And you simply grinned at her excitement, taking note of the promise of next time. But you made sure to remind her of what had led you two to talking in the first place, “You still owe me a seat at one of your games. I gotta see your stage now.”

TAGLIST! @lovermcres @glorioushamsterqueen @miedmead @blueagle45 @pbloverr @cavillary @elizabethkitley @1-800-fantasy @into-f0lkl0re @mysticchildsuit @sapphicmermaid

[sakurology]

All Mine

Sakura Haurka x f!reader WC: 1.3k Warnings: pwp, established relationship, oral+piv, pull out method (sorry it’s just who I am now), undertones of possessive Sakura, everyone is aged up to early 20s, mentally this is supposed to have a 2nd part so ignore the abrupt ending...

Daisy Says: Idk how we got here but damn...

tagging @interstellar-inn bc network tings

“How come you never kiss me like that?”

When you asked, it was a joke, of course. You were curled up on the couch next to Sakura, feet tucked neatly under his thighs to keep your toes warm. There you were, wrapped up in blankets, a shared bowl of popcorn the only thing truly separating you two from getting closer.

You had noticed he wasn’t laughing, though.

“Helloooo,” you called, tossing a single piece of popcorn to barely thud against his temple, his gaze on the film breaking as he looked to you with red-stained cheeks. The truth of the matter was that even though you and Sakura had agreed to take things slow, things were going a little bit too slow for your liking. You liked watching movies, sure, but every time? watching movies could be even better if you were face down, ass up with the Are you still watching? screen pixelated in your blown-out eyes.

The couple on-screen is clearly having more fun than you are; the romantic climax of the movie featuring a kiss in the rain. Their lips meet in a fervent, sensual kiss, each touch igniting a wildfire of longing. The rain is drenching them, but they are oblivious, lost in the heat of the moment. Time stands still as their kiss deepens, every second brimming with unspoken promises and the raw, uncontainable passion of two souls finding their perfect match. Their bodies pressed together, hands roaming with a desperate, aching need, as if trying to memorize every curve and contour.

He shifted a bit, the seemingly permanent scowl on his face temporarily softening the moment his eyes fell onto you again. With you, he was never really angry- or even aggressive, but instead, so much more relaxed and comfortable,despite the discomfort with being close to.. Well anyone. Even against the mounting and overtly sexual tension that had been building much like your closeness- it was no secret that he was insecure at times about your intentions with him. After all, you were such a hot commodity around town- choosing him sometimes felt odd to him in particular. He thought about the things the guys said about you, the things they wanted to do to you, the things that he could do to you. The stare lingered a bit, his eyes trailing from your head and down your neck, before settling on your chest. He could just barely trace the lining of the top of your bra through the deep cut neckline of your shirt, eyes straining involuntarily in an effort to see even more. He had you. You were his. And he had made up his mind in these tangled thoughts- that you had waited long enough.

“Is- that… is that what you want?” His eyes were fixated on the way your chest rose and fell with every breath you took.

You reached out to lift his chin, forcing his eyes to meet yours as you inched closer and closer to his face, lips barely touching as you spoke.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, confirming your desire and giving him even more indication while batting your lust-ridden eyes. You fully closed the gap, pushing your tits against him as if to say that you weren’t leaving his apartment without what you came for… him.

His complexion flushed an even deeper, carmine red as your hand trailed down to palm him. You felt him stiffen almost immediately in response to the touch, your voice darkening as you stared into his now bewitched multicolored eyes.

“Just wanna be yours.”

It’s barely a full blown make out, but his lips are on yours as soon as you give him the go ahead. There's no real time to melt together but the urgency is there, making it feel as if once your lips part, they’ll never be able to touch again. It gets deeper over time, hands beginning to roam between fabric and skin interchangeably while you gasped for the spaces of thickened air between you, Sakura mumbling ‘all mine,’ against your lips, jawline, and neck as he made sure to leave no patch of skin untouched. He took the lead, pulling your shirt over your head and pushing you to your knees.

Licking your lips with anticipation, you saw him finally spring free from his makeshift pajama pants, cock already glistening at the tip. One hand began to twist at the base of while the other worked to peel your low-rising lounge shorts down to your knees, wiggling your legs until they fell just past your ankles. His hands found their way to your hair as he began to move your head up and down in an effort to guide you. The movement of his arms and hips was feverish and mismatched, desperate for any contact he could have. The weight of him on your tongue alone was enough to send your pussy into overdrive after waiting for what felt like an eternity for this moment. After a few passes, you popped your lips off of him, strings of your saliva separating you from the length.

At first it was slow, making sure he could feel every inch of himself entering you as you adjusted to the pleasure of fullness. He raked his hands into the sides of your flesh, speeding up your pace as he started to thrust upward to meet you. You hadn’t noticed him snaking a hand behind him, reaching over his head to draw it forward- his old Furin jacket. You knew how important that thing was to him- the stories it held, the person it made him way back when. When it came into your vision, you immediately took the hint, gently fumbling with the cool metal buttons that adorned it. Never slowing down, he guided your hips to make figure-8s around him as you slipped it over your shoulders.

“Fuck-” the moan was drawn out and broken as his cock rammed into you more vigorously then, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in harmony with your moans as you felt yourself losing balance. You placed your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself, but he pulled you forward by the breaklines of his jacket, fixated instead on feeling your body in his.

“Now, you’re all mine,” Sakura exalted. His eyes- one blue, one brilliantly golden, were completely glossed over, much like yours at this point, but the intensity of the eye contact brought you closer to the high you’d been chasing as both of your breath patterns slowly began to waver. You could feel his nails softly digging into your side as he concentrated, deepening his claim on you by ghostwriting his name in your skin- you had memorized every character even as your vision began to white, body giving way to land onto his frame and gripping the blankets below you for dear life. He grunted in compliance as he felt you start to clench around him, making sure to get you through it all, eventually slowing his pace and slipping out just in time to come completely undone where your lower abs met.

You both collapsed into the floor beneath you, bodies writhing as you recollected your bearings. There were several seconds of soft pause before anyone moved, heads innocently knocking into each other’s in your disoriented state. He mumbled a soft apology, pressing his lips to the affected area near your temple before reaching over both your bodies to grab his phone.

Oh shit. It was almost 8:45.

Following his lead, you too grabbed your phone- several missed texts flooded your screen. Both of you were late for that night’s festivities- the debut of Tsubakino’s new number down at the club- the one your entire friend group had been invited to at least 2 weeks ago…. The one that Tsubaki would kill you for missing… especially because you helped with the choreography.

“I should probably go back to mine and get ready,” sighed, wrapping yourself in Sakura’s jacket and heading toward the door back to your place, conveniently located a few units away.

“I’ll give this back to you later.”

[hannie-dul-set]

나비 / NABI — ONE.

SYNOPSIS. in which you’re trying your damned best to willfully ignore your feelings for your friend of over twenty years, but— as always— life seems to have a different plan paved out for you.

PAIRING. choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRE. childhood friends to not quite friends (derogatory) to not quite friends (endearment) to lovers, romance, humor, hurt/comfort but more on comfort, coming of age, slowburn, college! au, “it’s always been you” trope, pining, tons of denial, beomgyu is the only man ever, featuring a large ensemble of idols from various groups. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, alcohol consumption, rumors as a plot device, mentions of sex, a few minor injuries. WORD COUNT. 9k (out of 40k).

NOTE. hehe...it’s here. this first part is a little short and slow, but things are gonna start picking up from here! please let me know what you think so far 😭😭 half my soul was injected into writing the entirety of this i will never be the same again 💔 also, i recommend listening to beomgyu’s covers while reading this and the upcoming chapters HAHA anyhow, please enjoy!

모기 / MOGI — ONE — TWO — THREE

YOU STILL DON’T LIKE CHOI BEOMGYU. Ever since you and he reconciled and publicly became friends again, your life has never known quiet— all thanks to the countless insects constantly buzzing around him, and by consequence around you, every damn day. And it’s not like you can keep avoiding him. Choi Beomgyu has made the executive decision to take advantage of the guilt you’ve been feeling, so for the past month, you’ve been a slave to his whims. 

Responding to 3AM ice cream runs even though you’re swamped with assignments. Going to parties hosted by people you don’t know the fucking names of because he keeps calling you a boring loser. And, the cherry on top, having to deal with Lee Heeseung’s even more annoying presence, just like how you’d predicted he’d behave if he ever finds out you and Beomgyu are friends.

Which he did. Much to your despair and agony.

“Beomgyu, your girlfriend’s here to see you.”

Case in point. You spare him nothing but an eye roll when he lets you in the clubroom of the, ahem, coding club. You’re here because Beomgyu texted you to fetch him a matcha latte and since you’re playing as his slave at the moment (and until your patience runs out), you obliged out of the kindness of your heart, only to get a truckload of teasing in return.

“Oh, hey, what’s up,” Yeonjun throws you a peace sign from their worn out sofa by the door the moment you enter. He’s accompanied by a good number of chip bags on the cushions.

“Hey,” Hanbin greets you as well when you pass by their alleged meeting table. Which, by the way, has stacks of leftover takeout containers and some empty, some half-empty plastic jugs of water. “Beomgyu is on the computer.”

“Thanks,” you tell him. This clubroom is a fucking gremlin hole.

“You know what.” Your path towards Choi Beomgyu is interrupted by Hyunjin, suddenly popping out of the half-wall separating the lounge area from the computers at the back. You jump, because what the fuck? “My heart races everytime you come here. I still get flashbacks from the day you threatened to wreck our safe haven. I think you gave me PTSD.”

Ah, yes. That day. That was eventful. It was the first time you’ve seen Choi Beomgyu cry.

“Serves you right, gossip snorter,” you say. “Out of the way, I have business to deal with.”

Hyunjin indeed gets out of your way, and there he reveals a row of four computers lined up against the wall with their assigned nerds mashing on the keyboards and yelling profanities at matching game screens. You zero in on the one on the far left corner. Surprisingly, Beomgyu is relatively calm compared to the others. You tap on his shoulder. He turns his head around.

“Oh,” he says, pulling his office chair back from out of the desk with a swivel while removing the headphones from his ears and letting them rest around his neck. You notice Jeongin seated beside him, who looks up at you only for a moment only to flinch back to the screen. “You’re here?”

No, shit. You jangle the latte in front of his face, head cocked, and he reaches out for it. But then you quickly jerk back your hand before he can snatch it from you. “Nuh-uh. Pay up.”

“Tch,” Beomgyu clicks his tongue and shoots you a bitter look. “Hyung, can you toss me my jacket?”

Someone from behind does indeed toss him his jacket, and at that very moment as well, Heeseung decides that it’s a great time to indulge in his newly founded hobby. “Hey, how about me? Why didn’t you get me a drink?” He joins the already crowded crevice in the back and swings an arm around your shoulder. “You get a boyfriend and forget all your friends. Have you forgotten that you two got together because of me? I’m hurt, I’m so hurt.”

Your face scrunches up. “Literally, how many times do I have to tell you he’s not my boyfriend.” You elbow Heeseung off, eliciting another whine from him. When your eyes snap back at Beomgyu, you see that he’s preoccupied with going through wallet. You kick his chair. “Say something, dipshit.”

Beomgyu hands you a bill and exchanges it with the matcha latte. You wait for him to speak. He takes a long sip, pulls his face away from the straw with a grimace, hands back the drink to you, then says, “What she said.”

You look at him, drink now back in your hands.

“What the fuck?”

“Keep it,” he says, putting his headphones back on. “Don’t you have class?”

Your jaw clenches. Fucker made you run an errand for nothing. He gives you an asshat smile of goodbye then spins his chair back to his computer. You scoff and smack the back of his head, causing his headphones to slip off. “Bye.”

“Hey!”

“Later,” Heeseung bids you off, and it’s followed by a chorus of goodbyes from the inhabitants of the testosterone infested, stinky gamer cave. Seriously, every time you drop by here, you feel an ounce of your soul shriveling up and rotting away. Yeonjun very politely opens the door for you. You hear one of them yell out before you leave.

“Come over tomorrow. Hanbin hyung’s treating us to pizza!”

And with that, you’re finally free, matcha latte in hand and a desire to breathe in some fresh air because you’re pretty sure the air is polluted in there. But still. It’s been a lot easier to breathe recently than when you two weren’t on good terms.

“Saved you a seat.”

You make it to class two minutes before the schedule. Minjeong proudly taps on the seat next to her, and you take the invitation. “As you should,” you hum, taking out your notes from your bag, and not long after Sungchan arrives and lands on the spot next to you.

It’s the week before finals. Prof Shin starts the class and decides to fuck all of your study schedules by giving a last minute assignment due next week as well. 

“Does this guy want to give us depression before the summer or some shit?” Minjeong complains the moment your professor leaves the lecture hall.“I swear to god, if another prof gives us an assignment due over the break, I’m killing myself.”

“You two have plans over the break?” asks Sungchan, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and the three of you head out for lunch, funneling out into the hallway along with the rest of your blockmates.

“I’m going home,” says Minjeong.

“I have summer classes,” you answer.

Sungchan stops in his tracks. “You serious?” 

“Yup.”

“You bet on it.”

He looks at the both of you like you’re a bunch of withering old ladies and he’s very much unimpressed. “Make some time for the last week. I’m throwing the wildest summer rager and you two can’t miss it.”

You’re pretty sure you replied with something along the lines of an agreement, but you’re not quite sure. The thought completely slips out of your head throughout the next week because, well, finals. And before you know it, your first semester of uni comes to a close, and summer comes crashing in at full swing.

#1: YOU STILL DON’T LIKE HIM FOR WASTING SO MUCH OF YOUR TIME. It’s eight in the morning. Monday. You’re standing in front of Choi Beomgyu’s door.

Knock, knock, knock.

It’s the start of your summer semester so you thought you ought to make something healthy just to kick things off on a good note, but as you were scavenging ingredients for fried rice, you realized you were out of salt so that’s why you’re here. You knock on his door again, three times, and you manage to finish watching five more Instagram reel clips before Beomgyu finally answers the door.

Creak.

“Took you long eno—”

You’re caught off guard by the mop of shaggy hair greeting you, clearly having just woken up. His eyebrows are knitted together while he lets out a yawn. He’s in a tank top. It rides up a little when he stretches his arm to reach for an itch on his back.

“What?” he rasps with a grunt, squinting at you after he’s finally settled himself into reality. “Why the hell are you up so early?”

You clear your throat. “Got any salt?”

Beomgyu blinks at you, processing your words. Then he steps back, points a thumb towards his kitchen, and nudges his head in the same direction. “Go crazy.”

With that, Beomgyu lets you monopolize his kitchen cupboards while he flops onto the sofa. You laugh seeing him practically melt into the cushions. He’s never been a morning person. You’re pretty sure he fell asleep like three hours ago.

“I’m gonna steal some of your chives too,” you inform. Beomgyu makes a muffled noise that you assume is a yes, so you go ahead and take the liberty. When you pop out of his kitchen area, you see him in a not very spine-healthy posture on the same sofa while scrolling through his phone. “I’ll drop off some bokkeumbap later.”

Beomgyu’s eyes flit up from his phone and he wiggles into a more normal position. “Do you have plans today?”

“Class,” you answer on your way back out.

“It’s summer?” he says. “Did your dumb ass get your calendars mixed up?”

You roll your eyes, stopping right before the door with your hand on the knob and turn your head to face him. “I thought I could use the early credits so I won’t have to take too many classes in my fourth year. So I could focus on my internship and all.”

There’s a pause. You can see the three dots slowly appearing in succession above Beomgyu’s bedhead. “Oh,” he says. There’s a drop in his voice. Only for a second. “Well, have fun, nerd.”

You stick your tongue out and leave his apartment with your borrowed goods, returning once more after you’ve finished cooking to give him a portion. Honestly, without the food your moms send over, you’re pretty sure he’d be living exclusively off of takeout.

Anyhow, you head to campus for your first summer lecture, and— for the first time god knows how long— your entire day is spent with a lingering, and almost unusual echo of quiet.

“That’s it for our syllabus. We’ll be starting our full swing of classes next week. See you.”

When you exit the lecture hall, the hallway is near empty. The courtyard too, with only a few students littered about underneath the midday sun. It’s so quiet, it’s weird. Around this time, you’d usually be having lunch with Sungchan and Minjeong, sometimes Beomgyu, sometimes Heeseung, but that brat’s not around right now either because he’s on vacation. 

Not having anything to do, you decide to stop by the campus cafe— Horangnabi. You don’t go here often, committed to the shop near your apartment because, well, it’s more convenient for your morning coffees, but you weren’t able to grab one earlier since you cooked breakfast. Might as well get a latte before you leave campus.

“Hi, welcome!”

You’re greeted by the barista, and like most of campus, it’s pretty empty inside as well. "A spanish latte, please. Iced.” While making your order, a sign on the counter catches your eye.

Part-timers, now hiring. You blink, letting it settle for a moment. Maybe for too long of a moment, because the whir of the milk frother snaps back your attention. 

“Are you interested?” 

The barista slides you your drink over the counter with a smile. You take it and press your lips together in a moment of thought. 

You only have classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, and it’s too inconvenient, not to mention expensive to go home, back and forth from Seoul to Daegu and vice versa, on the days in between. Most of your friends are on vacation or went back to their hometowns over the break so you have no one to hang out with over the summer. And you could use the extra money.

“I don’t have any experience, though,” you tell her.

“That’s fine. You’ll get a few days of training,” she answers.

Tempting. You’re almost convinced. “What if I just want to work for the summer? Can I quit when the next semester starts?”

“A lot of students do that,” she hums. You see her take a square of tissue paper from the display, jotting down a series of numbers before sliding it over to you as well. “Julie. Call me if you wanna take the bait.”

You spare one more second to ponder. Then you take the number from under her fingers and carefully stuff it into your pocket. “Thanks.”

The heat has finally settled the moment you exit the cafe, a little bell jingle trailing you from behind, and you take a mental note to bring an umbrella with you from this day forward. Their coffee is good, you have to admit. If you work there for a good month or two, maybe you’d even end up saving cash by making your own drinks instead of having to buy them.

You decide to take the path through the parking lot to make your exit. There’s more trees around, meaning more shade because it’s really freaking hot. It’s very bare in the lot. You pass by a few cars, of which you assume belong to faculty and staff, until one of them honks at you, and you flinch to a halt.

Another honk. Your brows furrow. Looking around, you try to find the culprit, but you end up moving your head in just the right direction for the sun to beam its light directly into your eyes, blinding you temporarily, and you wince. God damn it. You hear another honk again, and you feel yourself start to get irritated. It’s coming from behind you. You spin your heels, vision still muddy from the direct sun attack, but nevertheless you start walking.

“Seriously, who the hell keeps fucking— oh!”

You bump into someone. You feel them balance you by your shoulders.

“You should’ve seen how dumb you looked.” You hear a snicker. Of fucking course, it’s Choi Beomgyu. Who else would it be? “But hey, you make a pretty good pigeon jerking your head around like that.”

“Fuck you,” you jab his arms off. “What are you even doing here?”

Beomgyu notices your coffee and takes a shameless sip from it before answering, “Get in the car. It’s so freaking hot out, jesus.” 

You don’t really have a choice because he practically shoves you into the passenger’s seat. So gentle. You nearly spill your drink all over when your ass lands on the leather cushion. 

“I was just about to sleep again after you dropped off the food earlier,” he explains while starting the car, and you watch him intently. Whenever your schedules matched, you’d sometimes go to and from uni together. But you can’t seem to get used to the image of your friend acting like a responsible adult. It’s fucking with you a bit. “But then I got a message from Prof Kim, asking if I could come by the office today.”

He pulls out of the parking lot, and the cool air finally settles into your skin. “For what?” Beomgyu lets out a groan. Must’ve been for a not great reason.

“The EMC department is hosting a conference of some sorts this year and he asked if I could be a volunteer facilitator, ask a few others from the department to help and join along too.”

“Oh? You gonna do it?”

“Ugh. I don’t know.” You pass through security out the main gate and start heading back to your apartment. “I wanted to come home over the break but the working days for this thing will apparently last throughout the summer. Prof Kim did say this will be minused from my volunteer hours, but I don’t know.” Beomgyu then gives you a side eye all of a sudden. “Speaking of. You undutiful daughter.”

“What?” you leer.

“Your mom hoped that you’d be home for the summer, too. Why didn’t you ask her first before enrolling for summer classes?”

“Why the hell do you two keep talking about me behind my back?” You’re shriveling up. Seriously, why does your mom contact him before you? This is getting ridiculous. “And I’m doing all this so I can graduate early and find a job early, by the way. I don’t even have a full week of classes so I can still come home the first week of July.”

Apparently, you two argued for long enough to finally reach your building. 

“Tell me when you plan on going home,” he says, leaning against the wall beside your door watching as you key in your passcode to your unit. 

“Obviously,” you roll your eyes, smiling. The door unlocks. You push it open. “You’re my free ride after all.” 

Now, your expected response from that is another retort from him, how you’ve been exploiting his kindness and whatnot and you’d have to snark back as well. But for some reason Beomgyu just stays quiet. He says nothing, an unreadable look on his face as he looks at yours. You raise a brow.

“What is it this time?”

Choi Beomgyu says nothing. He lifts up an arm, points his index finger near your face, and jabs his finger straight into your forehead.

“I’ll send you a review of your bokkeumbap later.” He laughs at your appalled expression.

“You’d be shocked to find out it’s better than my mom’s,” you say back, a hand tending to the spot he just attacked unprompted.

“You wish.”

“Eat shit.”

“Oh, I definitely will.” 

You send him a kick, which he dodges before fleeing into the safety of his apartment. Slippery bastard. Anyhow, you call it a day and settle into your own place. Few hours later, Beomgyu indeed sends you a review of your cooking with a photo of an empty dish attached. Three out of five, he says. Slippery bastard turned ungrateful bastard.

The next day, you’re at Horangnabi again. The night prior, you called Julie’s number and gave her the news that you’re in, and she told you to come an hour before opening so they can get you settled.

You come in with a greeting, and you see Julie look up from behind the counter to wave you in with a smile. “You’re here! Hanbin, come meet our new part-timer.”

At the mention of Hanbin’s name, you immediately double take, and emerging from the door to what you assume is the storage area is indeed the Hanbin you know from the coding club. 

“You!” you immediately shriek, almost feeling a hint of betrayal because this is the first time you’ve seen him in daylight, because their clubroom is always so fucking dark. And in something other than the god damned flannels everyone in their club is always so fond of wearing like it’s an unspoken uniform. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, so it is you!” Hanbin happily exclaims. “I thought it was just someone with the same name.”

Julie was delighted to find out you two already knew each other. You skip all the necessary introductions and jump in head first into getting acquainted with the equipment instead.

“We’ll go through all of the drinks first. I also have the recipes printed out over here in case you need reference.”

Having a familiar face in an unfamiliar workplace is indeed a pleasant surprise, but there’s also a familiar sense of dread to have one of Beomgyu’s coding club buddies in here. Granted, he doesn’t annoy or tease you as much as the others, but those guys have already given themselves a label in your head, and Sung Hanbin is no exception to your collective bad impression.

“And then you twist the handle— just like that.”

You’re in the middle of your first latte, the espresso machine up and running. After which, Hanbin teaches you how to use the milk steamer without any difficulty, and you pour the milk into the same cup as the espresso you made earlier. “Wow,” Hanbin remarks. “You’re pretty good at this.”

“I think it’s all thanks to the caffeine I’ve ingested,” you say. “Skill buff. Or whatever you guys say.”

Hanbin laughs and compliments your latte once more. Needless to say, it doesn’t take long for your discomfort to completely disappear because at this point in time, Beomgyu’s friends would already start asking you about him— where he is, why isn’t he with you, etcetera etcetera. But his name has not left Hanbin’s mouth even once, and it’s already the end of your first day.

“It’s always slow here, except on rare occasions, so you’ll be able to handle it with no problems,” Julie says before sending you off. “Anyway, Hanbin and I will be around during your shifts, so you can run to us in case a particularly grumpy student comes to order.”

Hanbin gives you a thumbs up and a bright grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

And that’s how you established your new routine for the rest of the summer. It’s just like Julie said. Things are pretty slow. The only notable thing that happened on your second day at work is Beomgyu sending you a very unflattering, low-angle selfie under the blinding lights of the faculty office glaring behind his head with the text message that he said yes to volunteering for the conference. Sad face emoji included. 

On Thursday, Julie taught you how to make a damn good waffle. On Monday next week, you got your first shitty customer. Finally on Friday, you decided to open your skeleton closet to Hanbin, because not once since your a little over a week of working here has he asked you about the whereabouts of Choi Beomgyu.

“You and Beomgyu are friends right?”

There aren’t any customers except for the regulars from Bio that are almost always found in the corner of the cafe until closing. Hanbin is wiping the already squeaky clean counter because there is nothing to do. “Yes?” he answers, a smile on his face, but with a tone that’s evidently confused. “So are you?”

Christ. Now you’re the one bringing that bastard up. “Right. It’s just a little odd.” There, you bring up what you’ve observed so far since working here, and the fact that you and him have shared actual conversations not involving your old friend, and how it’s pretty surprising to you. “One time, I thought someone was going to confess to me. Turns out he just wanted me to convince Beomgyu to help him rank up in League.”

“Well, I don’t really need any help in that area.” Hanbin laughs, shaking his head. “Sounds like you and him have been friends for a long time.”

Neither of you have told anyone about your history. No reason in particular. Beomgyu just never found the need to tell his friends that you’ve known each other from birth, and neither have you. But Hanbin’s presence, when separated from the rest of his friends, just feels like a blanket of comfort, and you find yourself spilling your guts to him— including the previous three to four month cold war you caused and the reasons.

Hanbin is patient. He listens the entire time with an attentiveness you can only compare to a saint. “I guess being a social butterfly has its unintentional consequences. I’m just happy to hear you two made up.”

“I probably would never regularly step foot in your dungeon hole otherwise.”

He laughs. “The guys in the club also tease you a lot, don’t they? Doesn’t it bother you?”

You press your lips together. “Yeah, but at this point it’s just white noise to me now.”

Hanbin looks at you. “That doesn’t mean you enjoy it either.”

Well. He’s not wrong. 

Your conversation gets cut short with the cafe bell signaling the entrance of customers. You look at the door. It’s a whole stampede of people. It’s Choi Beomgyu and his friends and you can’t even go on a day of talking about them without them showing up.

“Whoa, I’ve never been here before.”

“Dude, you’re in your third year. Where the hell have you been?”

“Doesn’t Hanbin hyung work here—”

“Yeah, let’s ask him to give us free cookies.”

“Hyunjin, buy me a drink.”

“Buy your own drink, nerd.”

“Hi, I’ll have an iced americano, and a— o-oh, my god.”

You’re face to face with Yang Jeongin who nearly pisses himself upon the recognition that it’s you behind the corner. It dominoes to the rest of the group. You don’t know why they’re being so dramatic. You let out a huff and a sigh. “An iced americano and…?” 

Jeongin doesn’t get to answer. Beomgyu unwedges himself from the group and squeezes his way to the counter. “You work here now?” 

You cock a brow. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Since when?” he immediately follows up. You’re a little taken aback.

“Since last Tuesday,” you answer after recounting. Beomgyu makes a face that burrows a pit in your stomach.

“You didn’t tell me.”

Okay. Now you’re very taken aback. There’s a cough from the crowd. And then a very intuitive, not-so-hushed remark from one of the boys. “Holy shit. They’re having a lovers’ quarrel.”

It hits a nerve. Hanbin quickly dissuades anything before you could open your mouth. “So, what are you guys ordering?”

The amount of drinks to make and pastries to bring out gets you busy for a while, but you still keep an eye on Beomgyu, watching as he settles back to normal joking mode with his friends while you try to find an opening to talk to him. You and Hanbin finish making all their orders, so you ask him if you can be excused for a moment. He tells you to go ahead and you make your way to Beomgyu, who’s sitting on one of the ends of the three conjoined tables in the more spacious corner of the store.

He’s talking to Yeonjun. When Yeonjun notices you approaching, he immediately quiets down, so you take this as permission to interrupt. You tap on Beomgyu’s shoulder. “Hey.” He turns around and looks up. “You good?”

Beomgyu opens his mouth, about to say something— “Ahem,” — but then Yeonjun clears his throat, accidentally catching the attention of the rest of the boys, and they’re suddenly popping out their heads like meerkats in your direction. “Should I give you two some space?”

“What’s going on?”

“They’re having a moment.”

“Oh my god.”

“Do you guys sell popcorn?”

You’re used to their teasing. You’re used to their bullshit, really. You’re fine if they pull on your hair strands inside their clubroom, but for fuck’s sake this is a public space. Heeseung isn’t even around, but it seems like all his clubmates caught his disease. Your bio regulars are sneaking a few glances at the commotion. There are other customers too. You’re visibly annoyed and embarrassed— which doesn’t go over Beomgyu’s head, because he notices. And he also looked like he’s getting irritated. 

“Hey, you two should just apologize and make up!”

Beomgyu gets up. You see his jaw clench. Oh no. You quickly grab his arm with a tug before he can do anything— only for Hanbin to show up with a tray, setting it down on their table in a less than gentle manner. They flinch. They shut up. Hanbin sets down a few plates with a chilling smile.

“We don’t have popcorn, but here are your fries,” he says. Wow. “Do you guys want to add anything else?”

There’s a single squeak from the group. “No, we’re good.”

Hanbin hums in acknowledgement and retrieves the tray from the table— not without sending you a thumbs up, to which you mouth a thank you in return. He smiles and nods before going back to the counter, and there you feel Beomgyu removing your hold on his arm from a while ago, and you quickly flit your attention back to him, fearing that you might’ve upset him. Again. Like last time.

“Wait—”

“Are you trying to slack off?” he jeers. You look at him, a little surprised. Beomgyu nudges his head to the counter and you see a few customers filtering in. He did remove your hand from his arm, but he’s still holding it. “I’m not upset because you didn’t tell me you started working here. Well. I was. A bit. But not anymore.”

You feel his thumb run through your knuckles, going over the bumps of each joint, followed by a gentle squeeze.

“It must’ve been heaven for you to get some peace and quiet for once. But then I had to bring these losers around,” he wrinkles his nose. You feel a load get off of your chest. Beomgyu lets go of your hand. “If you told me beforehand, I would’ve steered them away from here.”

“Well it’s fine as long as they don’t cause a scene.” You say the last part a little bit louder than conversational-volume. From the corner of your eye, you see Hyunjin cough on his fry. “Anyway, I gotta get back to work.”

“No shit. Go do what you’re paid for, slacker.”

He lands a smack on your back and you’re pushed off to do your job. Gosh. Hanbin welcomes you back to the station and the both of you are kept busy for the time being, up until late afternoon strikes, and Beomgyu says he can’t drive you home today since they’re still needed back at the faculty office.

“Your girlfriend can get home just fine! Prof Kim’s looking for us, hurry—”

And just like that, he gets lugged out of the cafe. Jeongin laments about returning to “printing hell,” whatever he means by that, and the walls of Horangnabi are once again returned to their original state— peace and quiet.

The bell jingles. You hear nothing but the metronomic melody from the speakers. “Your friends are so draining,” you tell Hanbin.

He just laughs. “They’re quite energetic.”

You should’ve appreciated the serenity and calmness of your first couple of days working here because for the next few weeks, the coding club has decided that the campus cafe is going to be their regular hangout spot from now on. Or until their summer volunteer work finally ends.

“You know, you’re so pretty.”

It’s the end of June now. You’re wiping off some spilled milk from the counter when Julie suddenly decides to dote on you. She’s on the other side of the counter, face between her palms, and your wiping stops, face flushed.

“I—I’m sorry?”

“You’re like the prettiest flower in a garden and I’d fend off all the other bees and butterflies just to have you for myself,” she doubles down. You release a laugh, mildly forced because holy shit, this is a new kind of attention. “No wonder you have all these guys buzzing around you all the time.”

Julie thumb-points at the corner the coding club guys usually occupy. You hear Hyunjin losing his shit over something—

“I think he’s the one they keep buzzing around, seonbae.”

—something Choi Beomgyu very likely said considering the grin he has on his face, and how Yeonjun is also collapsing on his shoulders. You watch as his grin disappears into a cup, taking a sip from the lime soda he ordered. Then he notices you staring. He settles down the drink and gets up. 

“Oh no, he’s coming over.”

“What?” he says after reaching the counter, taking the spot next to Julie. “Are you talking shit about me again?”

“Hey, not everything is about you, insect,” answers Julie. Those two have gotten pretty close too. “I was talking about how pretty our new barista is. She’s a breath of fresh air. A rose among the truckload of weeds sullying the pretty interiors of our dear cafe.”

Beomgyu snorts at the comparison. You give him the stink eye.

“I get what she means,” Hanbin slides into conversation. He hums and passes you the milkshake Jeongin ordered. It’s still missing the whipped cream on top. You fetch a container from the fridge and walk back to your station, only to be met by a sudden debate on what kind of flower you are now.

“No, no. She’s not a rose,” you hear Yeonjun interject. “Appearance wise, she’s like a daffodil. Personality wise, she’s a venus flytrap.” A few of them chortle and laugh. You roll your eyes and start shaking the container.

“You’re wrong, she’s a hydrangea!”

“Aren’t they poisonous?”

“Exactly.”

A few more give their pitches. Honestly, you’re pretty impressed by the amount of knowledge these gamer gremlin boys have. You finish Jeongin’s milkshake and give it back to Hanbin for delivery. Beomgyu is quiet throughout the whole debacle, until Hyunjin eggs him on to give his pitch. They need to hear the expert’s verdict, he says. Beomgyu just brushes them off until he notices you looking at him expectantly. He pauses. He’s actually thinking about it. You’re pleasantly surprised at his sudden thoughtfulness— that is, of course, until he actually opens his freaking mouth.

“You’re a milkweed.”

It’s like a ball gets punted into your head. It bounces off and lands on the ground. You hear a wheeze from the boys. You give Beomgyu the middle finger.

“A weed! Not even a flower!”

“Hey, they are flowers! Go look it up!”

Beomgyu can’t redeem himself anymore. You’re already looking at him with bitter disgust and Julie proceeds to call him a piece of shit.

“It really is a flower!” 

He still defends, pleading his case to you even after the topic has shifted. Julie has left to clean up some tables. Beomgyu remains in his spot on the other side of the counter until you decide to believe him and his alleged substantial botanical knowledge. 

“Sure, whatever,” you deride. Beomgyu is still pouty. “Anyway, your conference thingy is this weekend, right? We’re going home right after?”

“Yeah,” he says, still sounding a little bitter and you bite down a laugh. His eyes flutter down, noticing something on your chin, and offhandedly wipes off what you assume is some stray whipped cream from earlier with his thumb. “Do you wanna leave in the morning or afternoon?”

“Oooooh.”

Lee Heeseung suddenly rears his head near the counter to return their empty plates. He’s back from vacation and now he’s here to reclaim his rightful spot as your number one annoyance. “Get a room,” he says with a shit eating grin that you want to wipe the floor with.

“Why’d you even come back early?” you leer at him. “Weren’t you supposed to be island hopping until the end of July?”

He sticks his tongue out. Beomgyu just laughs. “I can’t miss Sungchan’s party. You’re going, right?”

Right. The alleged wildest, most epic summer rager Jung Sungchan mentioned before parting ways with you and Minjeong over vacation. He texted you about it again last night. You couldn’t leave him on read because he called you immediately after.

“Unfortunately,” you lament. “Sungchan’s gonna throw a tantrum if I don’t show up.”

“You know Sungchan?” Beomgyu suddenly asks. 

You give him a pointed look. “Duh, obviously. We’re in the same major.”

It’s like a lightbulb materializes on the top of his head. “Ah,” he says. “I forgot you had other friends.”

You quickly retaliate by attacking him with the nearest thing you can get your hands on: a dish towel. He lets out a very fake, very dramatic yelp of pain and tells on you to Julie noona for abusing your customers and that you should be fired. 

“You’re no customer, you termite.”

“Ack! Noona! She’s hitting me again!”

“Is this how the youngins flirt nowadays?”

Both of you freeze in frame— him trying to yank your weapon from your hands and you with an arm up ready to throw a punch— and turn your heads towards Heeseung, who has a very smug smile playing on his face. You shoot Beomgyu a glare before roughly tugging the dish towel from his grasp. “Shut your mouth, Hee. How’s it going with your compsci girlie, anyway. You’ve stopped bragging since last month.”

Heeseung’s smile stiffens. He breathes out a ‘haha,’ before starting to turn away. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Serves him right. After a while you routinely bid them good riddance since they have to leave for volunteer work again. The weekend comes rolling, they finish the conference, and, with summer vacation coming to a close, you also bid your part-time job here at Horangnabi farewell as well after two-months of service. 

“It’s not like she’s never coming back here,” Beomgyu huffs. You two decided to stop by before leaving off to your hometown, Monday after their conference. Julie refuses to stop squeezing you. Beomgyu tugs on your shirt sleeve, but you don’t budge. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Coming from the guy who’s spending the entire week with her,” Julie spits back. “You better bring her back here in one piece, you bug.”

Choi Beomgyu succeeds in retrieving you this time. The container carrying two cups of coffee swings in your hand as an arm hooks around your neck, tipping you back, and the top of your skull hits Beomgyu’s chin.

“Hanbin, we’re heading out.”

“Drive safe!”

You’re only spending a little over a week in Daegu. You two still need to come back to Seoul in time for Jung Sungchan’s, cough, epic summer rager. He hasn’t missed a day in reminding you about it. You’re out for a joint-family dinner with Choi Beomgyu and his family and your phone buzzes only to see Sungchan’s text saying [three days. i better see you there 🫵🫵🫵]. 

“Your classes don’t even start until September.”

It’s the third week of August. Your mom decides to walk you to Beomgy’s car. “I still need to enroll and register for my classes,” you tell her. “I’ll call you when I arrive.” You pause. “And if you want to know what I’m up to, just ask me directly for god’s sake. Quit asking that guy.”

That guy wrinkles his nose at you. “Auntie, don’t listen to her. She’s just being jealous.”

“Wait until I tell your mom about how you nearly set fire to your kitchen.”

“Say a single word and I’m never letting you in my car anymore.”

Jung Sungchan’s party is at their vacation home in Eunpyeong District because his parents aren’t in the country. There’s a pool (gross). He promised you and Minjeong exclusive room access to escape to in case of emergencies (nice). It’s late afternoon. Beomgyu is already there because, well, he’s Choi Beomgyu and everyone’s obsessed with him. You’re still at Minjeong’s apartment, getting ready and borrowing some of her accessories.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you guys here?” he asks over the phone. You can barely hear him with the noise in the background. “Taxi fare’s expensive.” 

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Minjeong makes a face from the foot of the bed while she irons her hair. “I’ve saved up a lot of pocket money thanks to you being my personal chauffeur anyway. And Minjeong doesn’t like you. She thinks you’re a douchebag.”

“I don’t even know her!”

“Bye.” You hang up. Minjeong still has a look on her face. “What?”

“I think he’s stringing you along,” she says bitingly.

You let out a huff. “How can he string me along when I don’t even like him?” Minjeong simply says that Choi Beomgyu gives her bad vibes, whatever the fuck she means because the only vibe Beomgyu exudes is the vibe of extreme annoyance. You hop off Minjeong’s bed and change into the outfit you brought, opting to put on this very big, droopy sunhat you once bought at a flea market as extra protection. It’s stupid hot out. You steal some of Minjeong’s sunscreen as well before finally heading out.

“Did Sungchan invite everyone at uni or something?”

A foot into his gate, it’s already so crowded. Like really fucking crowded. There’s music blasting somewhere. You can’t find Sungchan anywhere in the yard so you and Minjeong squeeze your way into the house, and there you find him with Heeseung. Minjeong yells for his attention, and he spins around with a big smile. “Hey, you made it!” Sungchan hurls himself at you with a bone crushing hug. “It feels like it’s been ten years since I last saw you.”

“Quit being so dramat— ack! Tap out, tap out! I give!”

He finally releases you, and you grunt. “Here you go.” He tosses the keys to the room he promised. 

“Have fun partying.” Minjeong snatches it into her hands immediately. You scan the area for a bit. You see Hyunjin and Jeongin in the corner of the living room.

“Boo, you’re so lame,” jeers Sungchan, to which Minjeong just ignores and tugs your arm.

“How about you?” she asks.

You shift your gaze back to her. “I’ll go look for Choi Beomgyu’s round head first then hermit up there with you.” Minjeong makes a gagging noise before going off for the staircase. You’re ready to take out your phone to shoot Beomgyu a text, but you feel a sudden weight on the top of your head, so you look up, brows knitted.

“Your boyfie’s out in the back, sunshine,” Sungchan says while attempting to snatch your hat. 

“Not my fucking boyfriend.” You swat his hand away and readjust the hat on your head. “But thanks. Later.”

The thing about your longtime friend is that no matter how crowded the place, no matter how flooded an area is with people and people and people— he’s generally very easy to find. Just look for a crowd, look for bodies circling around each other and whoever is at the epicenter, at the eye of the storm, is more often than not Choi Beomgyu.

Your trick is proven to be effective this time around as well. When you leave the living room through the glass doors to the backyard, you spot him instantaneously sitting on the ledge of the other side of the pool, feet dipping into the water as he laughs along with the large group surrounding him. It’s bright out— the sun’s rays bouncing off from the water’s surface to glitter the underside of his face. Even the sun has his attention. It’s so comically ridiculous that you almost roll your eyes into a scoff. That is until you see him see you, and within a moment’s notice, he’s up on his feet and is departing from the crowd to walk up to you.

“You’re here.”

The first thing he does is swipe the sunhat from your head, adding it to his obnoxiously colored outfit: a bright pink buttoned top with neon orange flowers, the color matching the necklace he’s uncharacteristically wearing. He’s also got a pair of square framed sunglasses perched on his nose. “Is this your highlighter cosplay?” you ask, snickering. 

He shoots you a glare. “Fuck off. What took you so long, anyway? Thought you got lost or something.”

“I wish I did,” you grunt. There’s a holler and a splash from somewhere. You feel a few droplets hitting the skin of your feet. Beomgyu tugs you by the arm a little farther away from the pool. “This is way too noisy for my liking. And I thought I’ve been desensitized by you and your friends.” 

“Yeah, but—”

“Beomgyu!”

A third voice suddenly barges in from behind you. Beomgyu’s eyes leave your face for a second when you feel someone brush past your shoulders. “Hey!” Beomgyu greets back, giving who you assume is one of his friends a high five before the guy runs off again, then his gaze flits back to you. “Anyway—”

“Hey, kid, haven’t seen you in a while!”

A more familiar face shows up and greets Beomgyu with a slap on the back, once more fishing away his attention. You’ve seen him at Horangnabi before, you think. “Hyung, I’ll get to you in a sec!” he says. When Beomgyu looks at you again, his smile quickly drops into a pursed huff. “Ugh.”

You laugh. “You were saying?”

Beomgyu smacks his tongue in distaste, tugging you even further into a corner in the backyard, right next to a bush-lined fence under the shade. “I was trying to say— it’s good to get out of your comfort zone once in a while, you know. Your mother would cry tears of joy to hear that her hermit of a daughter is at a party.”

“Why do you always bring up my mother when you want to make a point?”

“Extra leverage,” he grins. “There’s drinks in the cooler. Want me to get you one?”

“Nah,” you say. “I’m gonna hole up in Sungchan’s room in about—” you check the time on your phone. “Ten minutes. Minjeong’s already in our sanctuary.”

You receive a pinch on the nose from Beomgyu for that. You try to elbow him off, and just as he’s about to say something again, you two hear his name being yelled out from somewhere in the area. “Choi Beomgyu! Pool volleyball, stat!” Beomgyu pauses, arms dropping to his sides and his shoulders slump in defeat. A single breath of wind, he’s gonna fall over.

“God fucking damn it.”

It’s very funny seeing him like this. “Off you go,” you push his limp body out of the shade, the sun hitting you both once more. Beomgyu makes a grunt of protest. “Go, butterfly, go. Your people are waiting for you.”

Beomgyu gives you a look of awful judgment, but starts unbuttoning his shirt anyway in preparation to take a dive. “You’re not gonna swim?” he asks.

“In that water?” you grimace. “Want me to catch a disease or some shit? You’re on your own, pal.”

“Drama queen,” he huffs, fully removing his shirt now and you’re like whoa there— eyes away, eyes away. A screeching voice calls from his attention. He looks behind to yell back, “Shut the fuck up, I’ll there in a minute!”

“Hand me your phone,” you tell him, holding out your hand. Beomgyu turns around, looking at you with his atrociously bright shirt hanging on his forearm. You clear your throat. “And clothes. Ask Sungchan for directions to his room to find me later.”

“You sure?” he asks, digging into his short pockets.

“Yeah. Go have your fun, loser.”

Beomgyu hums and takes your offer, handing you his phone, tossing his shirt to your face, putting your sun hat back on top of your head and making sure to ruin your hair in the process. He’s so fucking annoying. “I’ll be back after I kick their asses.”

The shirt drops from your face and falls, only to hang on your arm. “Hey. I don’t really care,” you say. Beomgyu doesn’t find that response satisfactory. He makes a face before running off, slow at first before breaking into a sprint once he’s near enough the pool, before jumping straight into the water with a loud splash!

His head emerges from the water, largely grinning with his hair sticking to his skull. It doesn’t take long for him to be swallowed by a group of people. You take this as your cue to leave.

“I know you hate it when people assume you’re dating. But seeing all that, I really can’t blame them.”

“Holy shit— Minjeong,” you jump, meeting face-to-face with your friend the moment you spin your heels. She’s got her arms crossed, looking at you like she’s massively unimpressed. “When did you get here?”

“I thought you died or something,” she shrugs. There’s a splash from the pool, you two getting hit as collateral damages and Minjeong makes a gagging noise. “I can’t believe I left home early for this mess.”

You make a noise of agreement. It’s around four right now, the number of people isn’t getting any smaller, and the music is yet to get louder. Choi Beomgyu’s shirt and phone are still on your person. Said phone buzzing incessantly in your hold. “I’ve been out here for a good ten minutes,” you say. “I think that’s enough.”

“Good call. Let’s go upstairs.”

On the way to the room, you bump into Heeseung, who ropes you in to taking two jello shots before setting you free. You also greet a few people that you know for uni here and there, but you can barely hear them over, well, everything. It’s so chaotic, you’re beginning to wonder how the hell Jung Sungchan is going to clean up the aftermath of this. Or maybe that’s why he was so desperate to have you and Minjeong over. So that you’d help him clean up. 

Minjeong seems to agree with your theory. You two key in the door to the room he gave you while cussing him out. “That bastard. Of course, he’d have ulterior motives.” The door opens. Minjeong lets herself in and immediately throws herself face-first onto the bed. “I’m gonna nap.”

“You dressed up all cutely just to sleep at a party,” you say, scanning around the room for a place to put away Beomgyu’s things. 

“Hey, my ten minutes of screentime needs to be worth it,” she replies, voice muffled by the mattress. “Night, night.”

With how pretty the interiors look, you’re pretty sure this isn’t a room Sungchan frequents. A guest bed, maybe. There’s a large window on the opposite wall revealing a vivid backyard view, sheer white curtains filtering the sun. It’s very bohemian. Tasseled rugs, rattan decor hung all around. You notice the round, wicker seat next to the bed with a patterned cushion. You toss Beomgyu’s belongings there and walk up to the window.

Peeling back the curtain, you look down to see a flood of people scattered all about the yard, muffled music and noises leaking into the cracks of the room. Choi Beomgyu is still splashing around the pool. You watch as he throws a beach ball overhead, eyes following it fly across the water, until it ultimately bounces off the pool ledge and hits someone from behind. He looks pretty happy with the stunt. You let out a huff, a tug on the corners of your mouth, and let yourself sink into the soft rug in between the bed and the windowsill, laying down.

You hear Minjeong squirming from above. Damn, she’s actually sleeping. You’d get up there and join her too, but the floor is already comfortable, and you’re already yawning, so you feel yourself starting to doze off, lulled by the distant sounds of people from the outside.

When you open your eyes again, it’s orange.

You open your phone. Almost six in the evening. The sunset leaks into the room through the sheer curtain, painting shadows on the floor as you blink and regain your consciousness.

Then you hear three sharp knocks from the other side of the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Coming.” It takes a while for you to reconnect the wires in your brain. You let out a yawn as you make your groggy steps towards the door, seeing Minjeong wedged into the upper corner of the bed in a way that’s definitely going to wrinkle her outfit. There’s a few more knocks on the door. You twist the knob open and lo and behold—

It’s Choi Beomgyu.

“Oh, thank god, I found the right room this time.”

Half-clothed. With a very evident, painful red mark on his left cheekbone.

“Holy shit. What the hell happened to you?”

You’re wide awake now. Beomgyu answers with a sheepish grin. “Well. You see. A little accident occurred.” 

He flinches back and looks away guiltily with tightly pressed lips the moment you nudge your face closer. It’s swollen. You take a step back with a sigh. “Explain,” you say, grabbing him into the room. You tip the door close with your foot and bring him to the foot of the bed, careful not to wake Minjeong up in the process.

“Some of the guys got a little too tipsy,” he starts as you sit him down onto the mattress. You kneel onto the bed stool, sinking into the loose blanket draped on the cushion just next to his outstretched legs while he continues yapping. “There was a surfboard involved. Don’t ask. But with alcohol-induced lack of coordination, and then there’s me who was by the pool ledge at the wrong place at the wrong time— I think you can get an idea of what happened.

He leans back, sinking his hands into the cushion. You dip forward. “That’s nothing to brag about.” Yeah, he’s gonna need some ice. 

“I think I bumped my head a little too.”

You feel a breath escape. He’s smiling. How many beer cans has he downed already? “Beomgyu. Seriously. What the fuck?” His face is irritating you, so you grab it and yank it down to get a good look of his big, round head. “Where?”

“Ack! Gently! Do it gently!” he complains, and you feel his right hand coil around your left wrist. “It’s father in the back, I think—”

“Quit grabbing—”

“Ow!”

You do manage to find the bump, but you accidentally press on it a little too hard, causing Choi Beomgyu to yank your wrist in surprise, jerking you forward out of balance. Now, that’s fine and all, but at the same moment, you hear two unfamiliar voices speaking in hushes approaching the door. Your eyes widen.

“Are you sure this room is empty?”

“Yeah, it’s empty, just—”

Swing! 

You try to get up. But your knees slip on the blanket on the stool and you stumble forward upon hearing the door slam open.

It’s a domino effect. Your palms are pressing against the soft mattress. Choi Beomgyu’s bruised face is looking straight at you in alarm. From underneath. You’re on top of him. On the bed. You snap your head towards the door and it’s wide, wide open with two people, half inside, and a few more heads poking in and zeroing in on you as the realization that you forgot to fucking lock it dawns upon you and soaks into your bones.

This. This isn’t a favorable position.

God damn it all.

“Sorry!”

And the door is slammed shut once more. That doesn’t matter. The damage has been done. You feel your face starting to burn and your strength attempting to escape from your body.

“Uh.”

The voice from below you reels your attention back in. You blink. Shit. You’re practically pinning Choi Beomgyu against the bed right now and his face is just a few inches away from yours. The heat is rising to your head. You want to move, but your arms won’t budge— seemingly temporarily locked into place by the shock of the sight underneath you.

His eyes are wide open, reflecting the orange tinted light from the ceiling, flushing his skin with a light shade of auburn, the tint deeper on his cheeks and nose. You see his throat bob, muscles contracting. 

The thing is, you’ve known him for a good twenty years or so, give or take. But you’ve never seen his face this close before, and you have to admit—

“C—can you move?”

Choi Beomgyu is kind of pretty.

Even with an ugly bruise forming underneath his eye.

“Hey. I don’t think this is gonna help kill any of the rumors.”

You look up to see Minjeong further up on the bed, very, very awake. You forgot she’s here. You toss yourself to the side with a squeak, practically hurling yourself off from the bed. “It—it was an accident!” you start. Minjeong simply shakes her head with sigh.

“I know. I saw everything. I was already awake the moment you sat this fucker’s ass on the bed.”

Hot. Your face is very hot. But Minjeong is also very right because god— you’re not sure how far things are gonna escalate. How many people saw that? Five? Maybe Six? Gosh, you don’t fucking know. The only thing you’re sure about is the fact that Lee Heeseung is gonna have a field day once he hears about this. You are royally screwed.

나비 / NABI. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[bluemari23]

darl+ing you || choi seungcheol

summary: You were on your way to South Korea, leaving your life behind to follow your soulmate back home. Your anxiety runs amok, and Seungcheol tries his best to get to know you better. pairing: choi seungcheol x neurodivergent reader genre: soulmate au, soul bonds, fluff, angst, idol au warnings: major angst, some light fluff, airport mayhem, angry cheol (not at mc), sneaky jeonghan ofc, word count: 2.8k new _world / part 2 of ?

masterlist

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You truly weren’t sure how to do this. You had been alone forever and didn’t know how to adjust to suddenly having someone in your presence, wanting to be in your presence. 

You were at the airport, your flight with Seungcheol, he insisted you call him Cheol or another nickname but you weren’t too comfortable with that yet, leaving at almost 5 am this morning. So, you arrived at around 2 am, a driver coming to pick you up, ordered by HYBE. 

After packing yesterday, you realized that Seungcheol only had what he was wearing when he was transported, so you took him to the store to try and grab a couple of items for him to last until we got to Korea and he was able to get back home. He pouted almost the entire time, claiming he didn’t need anything, but you just ignored him.

Once at the airport, you had to go through customs and security, which you thought would take longer with Seungcheol not having any of his things. But you were proven wrong when the driver had handed you a soulmate passport, made specifically for those with the soul transport bond that had been transported into a different country. This meant that you had the same privilege and status as your soulmate. 

After going through customs, you and Seungcheol were led to a separate lounge, away from other people, besides a security member that had been assigned by Seungcheol’s company to stay with you until you both got to South Korea. 

“It’s okay, baby.” Seungcheol whispers into your ear, trying to ease your anxiety as he places his palm on your thigh, causing your leg to stop shaking up and down. You freeze again, so unused to any affection but he doesn’t act like he notices, instead choosing to rub his thumb against your legging covered thigh. 

You were anxious about everything right now. 

You were trying to ignore the thoughts circling in your head about being unlovable, the television program’s voice just ringing in your head. It was hard to overcome the cemented feeling of being unlovable and an outsider and then all of a sudden that idea being thrown out at the appearance of your soulmate in your bed.

You slowly relax into his touch despite your thoughts, causing a small smile to grow on his lips. He had a feeling your life was tough before he showed up, literally. He wanted to know everything about you, the way you took your coffee, if you were an artist of some type, what your favorite song was; he wanted to know anything you were willing to tell him. 

You felt the same, wishing to know who the person behind the screen was. You felt so comfortable with him already, not having the usual tense reaction to touch that you usually experienced. You felt like your body and soul had already accepted your bond, they were just waiting for your mind to join in. 

“I’m just nervous, I guess.” You let out a little breathy, wanting to take full advantage of having a bond. You’ve always dreamed of being bonded, and you weren’t gonna let anyone take it away from you. “All of this is so…new.” You threw your hands up, gesturing to everything around you.

Seungcheol turned in his seat to face you, his hand still working small circles into your thigh. He could see how much you lean into his touch; how much you crave that intimate feeling his touch could bring you. He was so happy to have a soulmate, and he was going to do everything in his power to prove to you that you were his and that he was going to treat you like a queen. 

But, before he could say anything, give any reassurance to you, his phone began to ring. He moved forward quickly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he put an arm around you and pulled you into his chest to your head rested on his shoulder. Then, pulling his phone out of his pocket, he realized it was a facetime call from Hoshi, but he knew that all of his members were probably going to be on the other end. 

With you still in his arms, he answered the facetime. There were so many faces trying to push their way into the screen, whether to see you or to hide others, Seungcheol didn’t know, but it made him grin either way. 

You remained frozen as you watched the members of Seventeen, besides your soulmate, fight over the phone. This was just another reality check for your new world, being a part, even if it’s a small part, of the idol scene. 

Eventually, they all backed away from the screen as Mingyu balanced the phone on something so they could all be in screen. You look up at Seungcheol to see if this was normal, only to see him smiling at the screen with fondness, before looking back at the phone. 

So many questions start at once, everyone having something to say to you and their leader. 

“Okay guys. One at a time.” Seungcheol finally manages out between laughter as you tense up at the loud noises coming from them. 

“Can she understand Korean?”

“Are you guys at the airport already?” 

Those were the two questions you could make out, as they all tried talking at once again. You were frozen, shy at all of the members looking at you. You almost turned your head into Seungcheol’s shoulder, trying to hide your shyness and the blush creeping up your cheeks. 

Seungcheol could tell as well, squeezing your shoulder in his grasp before moving his arm to rest at your waist, holding you to his side for comfort before answering.

“She does understand some Korean, but you need to speak slowly for her to understand. She is Seungkwan and Vernon’s age. She is a carat. And we are in one of the private lounges at the airport.” Seungcheol answered the questions he heard, some shouts of excitement from the two ’98 liners being heard in the background as he answers Dino’s question. 

“It is very nice to see you, Y/n. We can’t wait to get to know you better when you get here.” Woozi spoke softly but was still heard by you as he waved to you. He spoke slowly enough for you to understand, thankfully. You were still a bit shy, but you knew you needed to be polite and respond to him, plus, you wouldn’t turn away the opportunity to speak to members from one of your favorite groups. 

“It is nice to see you all, too. I—uhm, I’m excited to get to know you all as well.” You respond in your best Korean receiving a big smile from all the boys, but the biggest grin from your soulmate who leans down and kisses you on the head, unable to help himself. 

The call is cut short from the hired security coming in to tell you both that he was ready to board the plane with you and your luggage. You only had a carry-on and a suitcase as well as your personal backpack that had your purse in it while Seungcheol had borrowed one of your duffel bags for the things you bought him and the stuff he was transported in. 

“We are about to board so we got to go, but I’ll text you when we get in the air.” Seungcheol ends the phone call after several thousand goodbyes are said.  

Once he puts his phone away, he leans down and grabs the handle for your suitcase while you put your backpack on and grab the handle to your carryon. Once he puts his duffle on his arm, he grabs your hand to hold in his and the both of you follow the security to the first class entrance. 

You felt like you were in a trance, having flown only a couple of times and being in economy every time. First Class was so extravagant looking. Everything was clean and you definitely felt out of place as you walked forward, Seungcheol leading you to your seats. As you passed by the other seats, you noticed a small blanket, eye-mask, and earbuds were placed on each seat as well as a water bottle and an empty champagne glass. The seats reclined into a bed and there was even a small side table and television in each seat pod. 

When you got to your seats, Seungcheol surprised you by placing your stuff in the overhead compartments and helping you into your seat-pod. You didn’t expect for him to do this, to take care of your things and you before himself. 

You had a feeling that your wishes for a soulmate were actually manifested in Seungcheol. Yes, you were a carat and knew he liked to take care of his members, but you weren’t a member and you were used to having to do everything yourself, always being overlooked and forced to be hyper-independent. It was such a nice thing that you almost began to tear up as he made you sit down as he opened your water bottle for you. 

“Why are you crying, baby?” He questioned you softly, leaning down to look you in the eye. You didn’t think he would notice, but he did. Which was something you were sure you would need to get used to.

“I’m not used to others taking care of me.” You whisper, answering without thinking, still too in your head over your soulmates caring actions. 

Seungcheol can’t help but to get a little angry inside, nodding his head at your words. He swears in his head to anyone listening that you will always be taken care of with him. He loves how open you are being with him though, that you feel safe enough with him to tell him to truth about your feelings. 

“I will always take care of you, my soul” He cups your cheeks softly, tilting your head downward so he could place another soft kiss on your temple, resting his lips there for a couple seconds before getting up on his feet and moving to his own seat. He doesn’t miss the blush on your cheeks though, beaming to himself that he can make you so flustered so easily. 

-*-*-

You spend the rest of your flight playing twenty questions with your soulmate, Seungcheol having managed to put the divider between your seats down so you could see each other. It was a nice time, truly, just getting to know your soulmate without the pressure of everything you knew was going to happen when you get to South Korea. 

Once you touch down, your peaceful atmosphere was unfortunately broken. Before you got off the plane, Seungcheol receives a call from his manager who was waiting outside for you, that it has been leaked what had happened the past couple days and that the airport was swarmed with fans and paparazzi, waiting for you two. 

You could see Seungcheol was upset, his jaw tense and his grip tight on your hand as he holds you still. You didn’t know what was going on, only that you had to stay on the plan for a little bit longer while HYBE security and the airport security do their thing. 

Seungcheol remained on his phone, talking fast as he tries to ensure your safety while now bringing you into his embrace, holding you like he did in your room the morning before. His chin was resting on the top of your head as your cheek rested against his chest, feeling the vibrations coming through your cheek as he talked to another person on the phone. 

You stayed on the plane for an additional twenty minutes before someone Seungcheol recognized came onto the plane and over to you. 

“We have a route out and to the car. You can leave your things here. We will grab them.” The large man spoke to Seungcheol, before looking toward you and giving you a small smile with a nod of his head. 

“Okay. Come on baby.” Seungcheol looks down at you before pulling away. He grabs your hand again without even thinking about it and begins to lead you out of the plan. He holds you closely to him, your shoulders brushing against each other as you walk out to the plane and are suddenly surrounding by maybe ten large men, formed into a circle around you. 

You keep your head down as soon as you see the lights flashing ahead of you. You can feel Seungcheol hold you even closer, cursing under his breath at the amount of people waiting for you both. Once you got into the crowd, despite being surrounded by guards, you were scared. You felt like you dissociated once the flashes started, but you were brought back by a tug on your shirt. 

Despite the number of guards near you, someone managed to get their arm through them and latched their hand onto your shirt, tugging you to the side, and in turn, tugging on Seungcheol who had a tight grip on you. It was a split second, but the damage was already done. You could hear screams but you were now moving quickly, Seungcheol beyond angry and more guards came over. 

You could feel the tears building in your eyes, falling because you were too scared to wipe them away. You were too scared to move your body in fear of being grabbed again. 

You hadn’t even realized you had gotten outside and to the car when Seungcheol had opened the door for you and helped you in first. You saw someone sitting in one of the seats from the corner of your eye, but you kept your head down, flashing lights continuous in your vision until Seungcheol got in and the door was closed behind him. 

You were frozen, trying to calm yourself down as Seungcheol moves closer, buckling your seatbelt for you and sitting as close to you as possible. 

“I am so sorry, baby. I can’t believe we got leaked!” Seungcheol pushes out the last sentence in anger. He was so mad about the entire situation and was beyond worried for you. He could tell that what happened had scared you; you hadn’t spoken to him since the plane and you were practically shaking like a leaf. 

Seungcheol was scared. He couldn’t protect you in that moment and he almost lost you to someone tugging on your shirt. He had just found you and then almost lost you in a second. It would not happen again. 

Seungcheol only pulled you closer to him, hoping his presence would be a comfort for you before he turned to the other person in the car. 

“So, how did you win the competition to be here?” His voice was tense, understandably, but you could still hear some fondness in his tone as he spoke to the other person. You still hadn’t looked up yet.

“I snuck in while everyone else was freaking out.” Jeonghan teased, hoping to get you to look up at him. He wanted to ease the discomfort and fear he knew you were probably feeling right now. They were used to this. You were not. 

Jeonghan’s words had you looking up though, eyes red and puffy from your silent crying breaking both of their hearts. Seungcheol hadn’t even realized you were crying and made himself a mental reminder to do his best to pamper you tonight. 

“Have the company found the leak?” Seungcheol asked, his hand squeezing your won tightly still, not having let go since you got into the car. You could hear the anger lacing his voice, his determination to keep you safe only doubling. 

“They have. And they’ve been fired. It seems that someone overheard a conversation about your announcement to us. Everyone has been dealt with.”  Jeonghan didn’t hold back, knowing how his leader and friend got when something went wrong. No one wanted to get in their leader’s way when something happened to one of their members. He could only imagine how amplified that would be now with you. 

“Good.” Seungcheol ended that conversation, quickly moving onto another, more light discussion when he noticed your eyes begin to glaze over. He could tell something was wrong, but he would wait until you were both alone to talk to you about it. 

You remained quiet as you listened to Jeonghan regal the tale of what happened when they realized what had happened to Seungcheol and how excited the other members were to meet you. Hoshi and DK already fighting over who would be your best friend while Joshua and Mingyu were trying to figure out what kind of welcome gift to get you.

It seemed like the members were more excited to meet you than you could have imagined. 

[finalgirlfall]

The conundrum of 'I don't want to go, but I have to go' articulated by Jo was evident in many participants' accounts of organised abuse. Gaspar and Bibby (1996: 50) observe that it is often difficult for investigators of organised abuse to understand 'why children keep going back to be abused, sometimes in the most degrading manner, and why, when away from the offender, they do not disclose'.

Michael Salter, "The experiences of survivors: Extraordinary crimes in everyday life," in Organised Sexual Abuse, EPUB ed. (New York, NY: Routledge, 2012).

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Separate Vox and Velvet with a powerful s/o that killed Valentino for torturing them?

No Can Do

Vox

You held the man close, feeling the way he gripped at your coat, practically tearing it, his face planted against your chest.

His breathing was unsteady, his body held against yours, the man so pulled in on himself.

It was so unlike him.

You let him settle, his breathing slowing as you simply held him, letting him calm down.

After some time, you pulled him back, trying to look at him.

Vox turned away, the man didn't want you to see him like this.

Perfection was his image, and he hated it when anybody, but especially you, saw him as anything Less.

You pulled his face back, gently caressing the side of his head as he looked at you.

His screen was smashed, the right side of his face shattered in several jagged chunks.

Valentino's handiwork.

You held his face for a minute before you leaned in, kissing his face gently before leaning back.

His face began to heal, the cracks in his screen slowly disappearing as you held him close.

You held him for a few minutes longer, just to let him calm down and settle in your embrace.

After some time you pulled back from the embrace, kissing him once more before assuring him, you'd take care of it.

And take care of it you did.

You really made a show of it, making sure to record the entire thing, really working the man into a red mist. You having a whole rig to make sure every punch, kick and cut was witness in 4K quality.

Just as Vox would want it.

You didn't release the footage of course, seeing one of the V's being brutally murdered might damage their image, but you made sure Vox saw it, letting him watch every second of it, finishing it by pulling him close, looking him in the eyes before kissing him. Telling him he meant the world to you.

You'd love the man hard and true, helping him stabilise his empire now that Val was out of the picture, though even with the work, you alway found a way to spend some time with him.

The two of you would have a passionate romance, one only fuelled by your actions, as well as just how fiercely protective you were of the man.

Something he relished, the man always getting all giggly when you held him close, man a little love drunk when you got possessive of him.

The man was still very independent and headstrong, somethung you mostly respected. But with you, his loving S/O enforcing his will, and with him not having to worry about Val's emotional volatility, buisness ran far smoothly for the man.

Granted, he was down a V, and their 'adult material' monopoly had taken a substantial hit, but you made up for it by rangling up the remnants of his studio, signing them up to Vox-Tec as a subsidiary.

Things would be shaky for some time, but after the storm had settled, and you went back to buisness, with you by your television moguls side, things only looked up for you.

Your romance would be sweet and very passionate, yet refined in a manner only Vox could accept, you knowing how to behave in public, often allowing Vox to lead the situation simply to keep him happy, only stepping in when... Necessary.

But you loved him, and he loved you, and while it was never perfect, nothing in Hell ever was, it would be amazing for both of you, neither of you regretting it for a second.

Velvet

Now, Velvet wasn't some delicate little flower, not by any means.

But when you found the woman in her studio, barely keeping it together, bloody and bruised, you knew what you had to do.

You of course comforted your S/O first, despite your resistance, fixing her up and giving her some love. You planting a kiss on her lips before telling her not to worry.

You dealt in an awfully sadistic manner. Breaking Val slow and brutally, making sure everyone saw it as you rendered him limb from limb.

It was humiliating, for him, everyone watching you crush the life out of the husk that contained his retched soul, leaving him a nothing. A stain on the floor of the V tower, one you refused to have cleaned, leaving it as an example to everybody.

Nobody fucked with you. Or your girl.

Yours and Velvets relationship would be odd for a while.

You did just kill one of her allies and a close friend, granted, he was a piece of shit who abused her, but she wasn't no saint either.

Vox was also pretty icy with you, but he wouldn't do much seeing as you'd only acted to avenge Velvet, the girl standing up for you, managing to steady his hand.

Though you were pretty sure you could take him.

50/50.

Once things settled down, however, you'd only get closer with your british accented babe, a passionate romance bubbling between you.

The two of you would grow ever closer, intimacy growing stronger and stronger every day.

You'd often times just spend time with her in her studio, watching her work or manage her shows, throwing your 2 bits in when asked about a dress or outfit, only to be ignored by the fashionista, the woman knowing full well more about fashion then you ever would, so you usually just agreed with whatever she said.

But you also spent plenty of time together outside of the studio, either enforcing the V's will, or simply to cause some chaos. The two of you never closer then when you got freaky in the middle of a turf war.

Literally.

You'd have a firey, passionate romance, the sort Val would record for premium vids, you seamlessly assimilating into the remaining V's power structure, helping the both of them maintain their power, all the while loving your sassy, sarcastic bad bitch of an S/O.

[perfectlyoongi]

LONG-DISTANCE!YOONGI who takes a photo of the moon every night and always sends it to you with the same description. and you saved all the moons. in a way, Yoongi counted the days spent with you, even though he was miles away. in a way, that moon kept all your conversations and promises to itself; between its craters, in its darkest places, the moon wrapped your words in a small starry cloak that would be kept there, far from the evil of the whole world, always waiting for your first date to make it rain all the stars that your words turned into. “i had another conversation with the moon today. she told me her love story with the sun. i could only talk about you.”

LONG-DISTANCE!YOONGI who orders flowers for you on the most important dates. birthdays or promotions, good news or a task accomplished, any opportunity was seized by Yoongi, always ordering large, colorful bouquets that lasted eternities on your table. Yoongi might be far away, but he did everything he could to make up for his absence, showing you small acts of love that always filled your heart. Yoongi knew you and, as such, he knew how to love you — and sometimes flowers speak louder than mere words. “i’m not there, but i want you to know that won’t stop me from showing my love for you. it’s just a reminder that i love you.”

LONG-DISTANCE!YOONGI who falls asleep with you on call. he didn’t do it on purpose, he swore, but there were days that were simply exhausting and only your comfort could soothe Yoongi’s soul. it seemed almost instinct to Yoongi. when he got home and knew you were available he would call you immediately. a quick dinner while he told you about his day. quickly tidying up the kitchen while he listened to you talking about your day. and the comfort of his bed when all the tiredness weighed on Yoongi. wrapped in your words, when you spoke about everything and nothing, Yoongi listened to you attentively, really, but your voice was an ethereal melody for Yoongi, which cradled him in divine comfort and made him dream without him even realizing it. “i swear your voice is all i need to recharge my energy. only you, your voice and your soul are enough to make me feel safe and truly rest.”

LONG-DISTANCE!YOONGI who offers you a basic hoodie in your favorite color with a small personalized tag. Yoongi knew perfectly well that what you craved most were his hugs. Yoongi knew perfectly well that you would only found comfort and courage in his arms. but Yoongi also knew he was far from you, separated by painful miles. that’s why Yoongi bought you a hug. in the form of a sweater, warm and cozy, Yoongi offered you a hug that would comfort you when he was on the other side of the screen. “when you wear this hoodie, i’m hugging you. a warm fabric that will always reflect my soul. i love you.”

LONG-DISTANCE!YOONGI who shows your photos and videos to his closest friends. Yoongi was in love. he already knew that, he had already accepted it. so it was only natural for Yoongi to talk about you. of course he was a private man and wanted your story to be yours alone, private; but he couldn’t hide the wide smiles that took shape whenever a notification from you appeared on his cell phone; he couldn’t hide the radiant glow that beautified his eyes every time he saw a photo, a video of you. he liked you. you liked him. Yoongi wanted to show everyone how lucky he was. but for now, just his closest friends were enough. “it’s when i talk about you to them that i really realize how lucky i am. you like me. me. someone so insignificant and normal. i am the one who conquered you. and i still find it hard to believe that this is true. but, oh, how happy i am.”

LONG-DISTANCE!YOONGI who makes a list of all the things he wants to do and say when he sees you for the first time. it was something childish, pathetic, Yoongi knew that, but he couldn’t control his hands when they started typing quickly on his cell phone with phrases that he could only tell you in person. and, behind words, plans emerged, possible outings and probable moments to adorn Yoongi’s notes with the celestial magic of a love so lasting and eternal that not even distance could break it apart. “with every plan i make, it’s as if a new flame of hope lights up inside me. the hope of seeing you. the hope of being with you. the hope of finally being able to love you as you deserve to be loved.”

LONG-DISTANCE!YOONGI who appears on your doorstep on your first birthday. you had agreed to start dating only when you were physically together, but that didn’t stop you from celebrating small dates that were also important to you — among them, the day you started talking. and, on that warm spring morning, when they knocked on your door, you never expected to see Yoongi in front of you, with a smile on his lips, a sparkle in his eyes and flowers in his hands. he was there. in front of you. physically. you and Yoongi were together for the first time. you and Yoongi were together. finally. “i can’t believe i can finally tell you in person how much i like you. i love you. so much, but so much. my love for you consumes me from the inside and shapes my entire existence to be able to love you.”

[mercuriians]

I feel like a fic about Atsumu, Oikawa, and Bokuto finding their s/o reading fanfic about them would be hilarious

(You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to <3)

Have a lovely day and thank you if you end up doing this request <33333

a fantasy world

content info — gender neutral! reader, fluffy hq!! drabbles with some crack & hurt/comfort (sounds weird but bear w it, all separate). a teeny tiny bit suggestive in atsumu's part cuz he's a little shit.

word count — 1.9k words.

author’s note — holy HELL this is so late 😭 anon i hope ur still here, i made this pretty long so that's my way of apologizing. im also praying that atsumu is in character because this is only the second time ive written him. anyway, tysm for requesting!! hope u all like this <3

MIYA ATSUMU

your eyes are obstinately glued to your phone, wholly transfixed by the words that were typed across the screen. not a single soul knew about your little hobby and quite frankly, it was likely better that they remained oblivious. you wouldn’t know how to react if anyone found out, but really, there was one particular person who absolutely had to stay unaware.

as it turns out, they were also the very subject of the story you’re currently reading—of course, none other than your sweet, beloved boyfriend, atsumu. not that the term ‘sweet’ was an especially fitting term for him. ooh, that was a sick burn.

now, obviously you loved the boy. atsumu was bold, intelligent, thoughtful, hardworking, and affectionate to the point where osamu and the rest of his team often complained about how shameless he was in front of them. his spirit burned bright with fiery ambition, glimmering red and orange and yellow, and he introduced a kind of light into your life that you had never quite experienced before. at first you were a little wary at first, a little blinded by how much he shone, but because you were just as stubborn as he was, you soon grew used to it.

if anything, you came to learn that atsumu was undoubtedly one of the most inspirational people out there. motivating his peers was like second-nature to him, and even if he didn’t consciously put in the effort to inspire them, he still ended up doing so anyway. his love for volleyball was blatant in its authenticity, in its obsession. so when coupled with his charisma, and, yes, his boyishly good looks, atsumu developed a serious kind of gravitational pull. it was no wonder so many people were drawn in—yourself included.

but, inevitably, something had to be sacrificed. your boyfriend’s devotion to the game often meant that you two didn’t get to spend much time together. if atsumu wasn’t practicing at the gym, then he was either thinking about doing it, on his way to doing it, or—this happens only under the direst of circumstances—recovering from doing it. he was, in every sense of the word, a workaholic.

you were fine with it for the most part, mostly because you had a busy schedule to deal with yourself. if you weren’t doing homework or studying for an upcoming exam for the sake of staying on top of your classes, then you were either fulfilling your duties as a student council member, playing your respective sport, or taking care of things at home.

regardless, there were still times when you wished atsumu was with you. it didn’t matter if he was spewing volleyball jargon, or forcing you to pepper with him, or anything like that. you just wanted to spend time with him, to actually see him and his stupid face and his stupid smile that you want to kiss so badly.

maybe that’s why you’re so zeroed in on the fanfiction you’re reading—to try and make up for what you’ve been deprived of for days on end. a very palpable twinge of sadness tugs at your heart. you push the unwanted sentiment to the depths of your mind, trying to focus on reading the story again.

god, what sentence were you even on? and why was the door suddenly opening—

“hey baby, did ya miss me?”

your soul leaves your body.

before you even have time to think, a shrill scream rips from your throat as you scramble to hide your phone underneath the covers. atsumu's jaw drops, completely and utterly befuddled by your behavior. after a moment he raises his hands in mock surrender. "jeez, darlin', it's just me. your boyfriend, remember?" atsumu says, brow raised. there's a mixture of emotions written across his face—slight concern, palpable amusement, even some suspicion. "what are ya hidin' there on your phone, anyway?"

finally, you seem to find your voice. "n-nothing important," you mumble, clearly and very intentionally avoiding the intensity of atsumu's hawk-like gaze. "i didn't even know you'd be visiting today.. thought you would be busy with practice again."

maybe it's because your boyfriend knows you so well by now, but he catches the hint of bitterness in your tone. his face softens, and he takes one, two, three steps toward you until he's taking up the space on your left. "coach called in sick, so mister perfect decided to just cancel practice for today," atsumu shrugs. you're still somewhat upset, but you can't help but smile at the setter's nickname for his captain—kita shinsuke, the closest embodiment of perfection that anyone's ever seen.

"i'm pretty sure i texted ya that i would be dropping by," your boyfriend adds, glancing over at you. cautiously, you pull out your phone again and open up the messages app. lo and behold, he did in fact text you, but you were too busy with your fanfiction to notice.

your face burns with the weight of your embarrassment.

a small chuckle escapes from atsumu's mouth. "wow, i haven't even done anything and you're already blushin' for me," he teases. you hit his chest halfheartedly, muttering about how mean he's being. you fail to notice the calculating glint in his eyes. you also fail to notice his hand wandering.

a second later, atsumu grins smugly, your phone held securely in his grip.

"what the hell, 'sumu?!" you screech, trying to retrieve the object in vain. "how did you even—"

"i'm good with my hands," he winks, and you don't even have time to scold him for the clear innuendo because he's typing in the password to your phone. all you can do is accept your fate as atsumu discovers the story you were reading.

as expected, he laughs. loudly. it's almost like the laugh he lets out whenever he wins a bet against osamu. you turn away, shame and humiliation gnawing at your chest. there's nothing more you want than to be swallowed by the floor beneath you.

however, when atsumu's laughter dies down a few moments later, you feel him wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "baby," he begins, voice still a little breathless from all his cackling, "why are ya reading this when ya got the real thing right here?"

you look up at him, a confusing mess of emotions swirling within your stomach. "because we don't seem to spend much time together anymore," you admit, lowering your eyes to the ground. "laugh all you want, but these stories are there for me whenever i need them. you probably think it's stupid, or pathetic, or whatever, but.. i miss you, 'sumu."

you close your eyes, preparing to hear another round of thunderous laughter. it never comes.

"open yer eyes for me, babe," atsumu's voice is unexpectedly soft, tender. hesitantly, you do, and your gaze meets his. your boyfriend reaches out, resting a calloused hand against your cheek. his touch is so familiar, so comforting, that you can't do anything else but lean in and welcome it. "i didn't know that ya were feelin' this way, and i'll admit that it's my fault for not noticing. but hey, you wanna know somethin'?"

"what is it?" you whisper.

"i miss ya too," your boyfriend confesses. he leans in, placing a soft kiss against your lips. "and tomorrow, i'm taking ya out on a date."

OIKAWA TOORU

"oh my god, this is so cute," you sigh dreamily, swinging your feet in satisfaction as you indulge yourself. it was fanfiction, for crying out loud—can you really be blamed? this particular story practically reeked of fluff. you had just received flowers from the male lead, with you two having confessed just a few days ago. now you were on the first date, entering the doorway to a beautiful relationship that made every reader jealous.

the fact that the male lead—the infamous setter of aoba johsai, fanboy of iwaizumi hajime, hater of ushijima wakatoshi—also happened to be your boyfriend was just a minor detail.

you continued reading, the outside world completely irrelevant as you immersed yourself in the story. soon another squeal leaves your lips as oikawa, the male lead, bends down to kiss your hand. he says something swoonworthy, causing you to giggle like a madman. "that's it, i'm marrying you," you say, as if he can hear you through the story.

"marrying who?"

you let out a defeated sigh as your boyfriend pops his head into your room. there's a pout on oikawa's face, his mocha eyes filled with mock betrayal. still there's a part of you that knows he actually is a little bit jealous; he just doesn't know that technically, he's jealous of himself. "who are you marrying, babe?" he asks you somewhat accusingly. "i think it's a bit too early for—"

"shut up please," you groan, a bit sad that your reading session got interrupted. "i'm reading this fanfiction of you, and in the story, you're actually nice to me."

you immediately hear an indignant gasp from your boyfriend. he puts a hand to his chest, his pout now even more prominent. "excuse me, i am nice to you," oikawa scoffs as he walks over, squinting at the story you're reading. "i'm way better than him!"

"you are him," you deadpan.

"exactly! why are you reading that when i'm right here? i'm hurt," oikawa says in disapproval, shaking his head at you. "now move over."

you blink—once, twice. "wait, what?"

"i wanna read too," oikawa says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "so i can list all the things they got wrong about me."

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

maybe reading fanfiction about your boyfriend wasn't the best idea. it's not that the story wasn't great because it really was—the characterization was on-point, the writing style was smooth and elegant, and the plot was creative. it's more about your boyfriend himself. particularly the way that he reacted when he found out.

"am i not good enough?" bokuto asked you quietly as he stared up at you. his golden eyes were absolutely despondent, his shoulders were slouched, and even his owlish hair looked like it was deflated. you didn't need akaashi to understand that those were all signs of an emo bokuto.

and it was all because of you.

man, the guilt was unbearable.

"koutarou," you say softly, reaching out to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. "baby, you are more than enough for me. you're amazing, okay? you're my anchor, and you make me smile when no one else can. compared to you, this fanfiction means nothing." you pause, placing a tender kiss against his warm cheek. "seeing you sad makes me sad, you know?"

"i'm sorry," bokuto mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. "i thought i'd let you down or something, like i wasn't being a good boyfriend. it scared me."

his words make your heart hurt even more. you pull away from the hug, letting your earnest gaze meet his. "from now on, you don't have to be scared," you tell him seriously. "i'll stop reading fanfiction, and every day, i'll remind you of how much you mean to me. is that fair, kou?"

bokuto nods, and it's at that moment that you start to see the gloomy aura around him disappear. "i love you," he says, and you can tell that he means it. he always does.

you pull him closer, your fingers combing through his hair soothingly. he hums quietly, enjoying the feeling. "i love you too, koutarou," you smile. "and no story will ever change that."

you let a few moments pass by, simply listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. slowly, you let your eyes close, your boyfriend's strong embrace lulling you to a light rest. after a few moments, though, bokuto's voice breaks through the silence. "can i ask you a question, babe?"

you open your eyes. "anything."

he pulls away, his expression completely serious as he looks at you. "can we get something to eat?"

[armysantiny]

A doctor’s worry – Zayne

P: Zayne x gender neutral reader | G: fluff, drabble | Inc: mc overworking themselves (as usual), Zayne worrying over mc, Yvonne being a good friend, Zayne's sweet tooth, some indulgent fluff for the soul, calling Zayne 'Doctor Li' bc that's how the title works infold, obv don't take my desc of hospital life too seriously lmao | Wc: 718 | W: mc has an injury but no graphic desc. | R: G

Min's notes: When I tell you I was just writing this all day at work lmao. I just love the way Zayne loves </3

"Hey, Zayne? Do we have the MRI results from last night's case?" Greyson's asking him, both doctors on their way to their respective offices after catching each other in the car park.

"We should do, I'll forward it on to you once I'm inside."

The hospital's busy today, everyone's schedule packed with either meetings, patient appointments, surgeries, or some unholy combination of all three. And for once, Zayne couldn't be more thankful that his schedule is much the same, the gruelling but rewarding hours of his double shift awaiting him.. Sat in his chair while he types out a letter of recommendation for a patient just gone to see a physiotherapist, Zayne sips on the glass of water on his desk, too occupied to do much else other than his job.

At least today, being busy out of his mind helps. It helps him not stress over y/n taking a mission in the No Hunt Zone. The hunter, for all their skill and natural talent, has a mind numbingly stubborn habit of overworking themselves to the point of injury and beyond. Which is why Zayne is trying to bury his concern underneath an avalanche of work, because y/n is working on a sprained ankle.

The doctor even managed to spot the beginning signs of swelling that morning before they left, but y/n was already out the door by the time he opened his mouth.

See you tonight love, they had said, don't push yourself too hard.

How cruel, to remind him to not push himself all the while leaving the vines of worry to bloom around his heart. But he loves y/n anyway, so they're not to blame when Zayne finds that he's no longer frustrated by the waiting, just longing for his hunter to return home so he can fuss over them until the vines relent until the next time they decide to put themselves at risk.

So lost in replying to emails, Zayne nearly doesn't hear the knock at the door, looking up from his screen moments before the knocking becomes more urgent.

"Come in."

"Doctor Li?" It's Yvonne, and Zayne's frigid politeness melts away a tad into something a bit more friendly. "You didn't show up for lunch... so I thought I'd take the liberty of bringing something up from the cafeteria. I recall y/n mentioning your affinity for sweet things?"

It's then, as he's taking the boxed lunch with a gentle thank you, that Zayne notices the separate box of two macarons that Yvonne's handing him. They're from his favourite café. Of course they are. Of course, his love would dutifully tell his colleagues what to do should he be too absorbed in his work. Astra above, he loves them.

When Yvonne leaves, clearly satisfied that the cardiovascular specialist isn't going to go hungry, Zayne allows himself to smile, his own heart fond and aching all the same.

"I'll save one for you."

In between his responsibilities and workload, the doctor hardly realises when the sun begins to set, painting the sky all kinds of pinks and oranges before, inevitably, the sky is dark. Moonlight shines through the gaps in his closed blinds, illuminating his desk in its cool light for a handful of minutes until Zayne is forced to get up and turn the lights on, fluorescent white irritating his eyes for a second. If y/n was here, they'd tell him to squint first, let his eyes adjust until he's comfortable. He can't help but think about them now, most of his tasks done for the day and his mind free enough to think about his lover, how much he misses them, would rather they stay in his arms, stay off their injury and rest...

His phone rings.

"Hello." His expression is soft.

"Zayne! Sorry for going no contact love," y/n says, clearly satisfied with their day. They're forgiven, as always. "I'm on my way back to the office, I'll see you in the hour?"

"Sure. I'll come and pick you up, you shouldn't be putting anymore strain on your ankle."

He can practically hear the amused rolling-of-eyes from y/n.

"Yes doctor~ see you soon! Love you!"

"Love you too, y/n." He hangs up the phone and takes a good look at his office. He can afford to leave a little early tonight.

© copyright work of armysantiny 2024-2025

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! Consider reblogging, leaving some feedback or donating to my kofi!

Taglist: @kyuzuberri | Taglist Form

[starillusion13]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSY8sj7NQ/

I NEED AN POLY!ATEEZ IMAGINE OF THIS PLSS.

SURPRISE!

Pairing: Ateez!ot8 x f!reader

Genre: fluff, birthday au, slice of life

W.C: 3.2k. Network: @k-vanity

Warnings: none (just a little bit sad in the beginning coz of missing your loved ones and then sweet love afterwards)

🎀>.<🎀

You pouted and sighed for the nth time this day. Changing the channels and not getting interested in any of the shows, you decided to consume time in your bedroom for the day. There should be some reason for you to be excited for the upcoming day --- tomorrow, but you found yourself blank with no visible emotion. Just a lost soul roaming around the grand house.

They are busy.

That's the only thought storming inside your head.

You sat by your window, observing the raindrops as they meandered down the glass pane in a melancholic dance. The day before your birthday, and the gloomy sky mirrored your despondent mood. Your boyfriends were away on a business trip and the void left by their absence was palpable.

That evening, wrapped in a plush blanket, you settled on the couch to watch a beloved film, the one you often enjoyed together. As the familiar scenes played out, you could almost hear their laughter and feel their presence beside you, offering solace.

Memories of past birthdays spent together flooded your mind—how Wooyoung would always bake you a cake, even though it was often a little lopsided, and how Jongho would serenade you with a song he wrote just for you. Oh! Hongjoong would definitely leave everything just to spoil you with his money and that's him to spend his money on your favorite things.

Seonghwa would change your whole wardrobe until your next year's birthday. Yeosang would be the one to spend the whole day cuddling with you and San would get you dressed up in a style, during daytime and in a different one during night. Mingi would book a whole new place to celebrate your birthday during evening till night and well, your big man Yunho would definitely treat you like a princess and he as your personal butler.

But this year, the silence was deafening, and the loneliness gnawed at your heart.

>>>><<<<

The following morning, you awoke to the sun's rays infiltrating the room.

It's your birthday.

Warm sunlight peeking inside your room and the birds chirping made you groan lightly and you turned around to stretch your limbs and hands but again you quickly grabbed your body pillow and hugged it, whispering to yourself, 'Happy Birthday, y/n.'

No comfort, no hug, no morning kisses, no surprises... you opened your eyes only to be greeted by no one in sight. No smiling faces.

An empty room and a heavy silence.

Even though you knew they were not awake at this time in that country, you still decided to check a single notification from them. None. Switching off the screen, your head again hit the mattress and you sighed audibly.

It's okay --- they love you and you love them too.

Your doorbell rang and you furrowed your brows, thinking possibilities of them or someone else coming over to your place.

Curiosity piqued, you approached the door and discovered a beautifully wrapped parcel. Inside was a meticulously crafted card, and an album brimming with photographs and cherished memories of your times together. On the final page was a heartfelt note: "We're with you, always and forever."

your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of love. Despite the miles separating them, their love transcended distance. The loneliness ebbed away, supplanted by the warmth of their affection.

.

.

.

Determined to alleviate your solitude, you embarked on a solitary adventure. you dressed warmly in a cute pink sundress and set out into the city, the cool breeze a sharp contrast to the warmth you longed for. your first destination was a quaint café, one that Seonghwa would always choose for your inaugural dates. The café's rustic charm and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee brought a fleeting sense of comfort.

You sat by a window table and observed the rustling outside.

As you sipped your americano, you discovered a diminutive note beneath your cup, inscribed with, "Happy birthday, y/n!" A faint smile graced your lips, warming your heart ever so slightly. The barista must have been in on it, as he gave you a knowing wink, adding a touch of magic to the moment.

Jaemin is always a flirt. But at least today, he managed to bring a faint smile to your face. You picked your phone, fingers hovering over the screen and deciding to call one of them. Are you desperate? Is it being too clingy? Still biting your lips, you pressed a number, pressing your phone to your ears and breathing unevenly and waiting to hear one of their voices.

No one picked it up. With a gloomy mood, you stood up, having a heartfelt conversation with Jaemin and to say, he did notice your little sadness and upon asking you the reason, he found the absence of your lovers. Earlier, his curiosity when he couldn't find Jongho with you, did manage to chalk it out that something happened with you and your boyfriends but on the positive, it's just they are missing out on a special day with you.

Your next stop was a charming bookstore. As you peruse the shelves, a particular stall piqued your interest—a book that you wanted for so long. Grabbing it quickly, you skipped across the shelves. The visible joy was all evident on your face and few elders and students around you noticed your glowing form. But your steps halted when you were stepping forward towards the counter to check out, your gaze fell on a lovely couple.

Giggling and holding hands while the man was teasing the girl in front and a tear slipped from your eyes. Mingi would have done the same. The serendipity of memories flashing in front of your eyes, left you marveling at how much you love them, and missing them at your every move.

Striving to maintain a cheerful demeanor, you commenced your day with a stroll in the park. The sight of a couple entwined in each other's arms evoked a profound sense of loneliness.

Wandering through the city, you found yourself at the park where you often picnicked with them. The sight of children playing and couples strolling hand in hand deepened your sense of longing, yet you drew comfort from the memories you all had created there.

The park was bustling with activity. Children laughed as they chased each other, couples strolled hand in hand, and families enjoyed picnics on the lush green grass. you made your way to your favorite spot—a secluded clearing surrounded by blooming flowers and tall, sheltering trees. you laid out a blanket and settled down with the book, trying to immerse yourself in the story book.

you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. you tried to remain optimistic, convincing yourself that they would make it up to you once they returned.

You want nothing but just them with you and their love.

Little did you know, a grand surprise was in the works.

.

.

.

A little girl ran past your head, almost bumping into you but her shoe tip slightly hit your head and you were aware of a thing she dropped beside your face. You couldn't scold her because of her cuteness and sweet giggles. A little smile appeared on your face.

After a while, you noticed a small envelope placed beside your book. The little girl's must be. But your name was written on it, more to say your full name. Surprised, you opened it to find a note from them: "Happy Birthday, y/n! Follow the path to the bridge beside the waterfall, love."

your heart fluttered with excitement. You quickly packed up your belongings and followed the path winding through the park, the anticipation building with each step. As you approached the destination, you noticed it was oddly silent but still decorated with extra flowers and adorned with fairy lights that are yet to be lighted as there's still daylight in the afternoon and delicate paper lanterns swaying gently in the breeze.

As you stepped closer into the place, soft music began to play. It was a melody you recognized—one of your favorite songs. You hummed and chuckled lightly.

"where are you? Please tell me...it's not a prank by you, Jaemin." Your soft voice bloomed above the tune playing. Your soft voice pinched some hearts nearby you, hiding behind the sweet environment.

A warm and big palm covered your eyes, in a quick move, your hands moved up to hover over the palms, "who are you?"

The person behind you leaned forward, his breath hitting your ear and he placed a soft kiss just under your ear and whispered, "Happy Birthday, princess."

A rush of excitement jolted through your body, the voice and his warmth against your skin. a smile tugged in the corner of your lips when you breathed out, "Yunho..."

Removing the palms from your eyes, he turned you around, you were excited and also, in disbelief that you were in reality and not dreaming. He pulled you closer by the waist, planting a longing kiss on your lips, pecking your forehead before retreating from you.

"So, Jaemin is the first person you could thought of?" Hongjoong's sudden voice made you jump in your place. Your eyes moved away from Yunho's when you noticed the elder one approaching you two. Stepping in front of you, he cupped your cheek and kissed you. The same feeling of comfort and longing.

You giggled, "jealousy is not good for health. Also, he is my good friend and you are my boyfriend. So, I can rely on him for a little friendly prank in your absence." You kissed his cheek in the end.

"Of course you can. Happy Birthday, love." He kissed the side of your head.

Suddenly, Mingi and Jongho emerged from behind the thick trees, each holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"Happy Birthday, y/n!" they exclaimed in unison, their faces lit up with joy.

Tears of happiness welled up in your eyes. "Thank you. I can't believe you all are here! How did you manage this? All... are others here too?"

Mingi grinned. "It wasn't easy, but we couldn't miss your birthday. We wanted to make it special." Hugging you tightly, kissing your lips repeatedly, making you giggle at his antics.

Jongho stepped forward and handed you his bouquet. "We've planned a whole day just for you. We have a picnic, music, and a few more surprises up our sleeves." He kissed your lips and cheek.

"I thought you won't manage this time."

"How could you think like that, baby?" Seonghwa's sweet tone from behind you made you turn around when you quickly ran towards him. others eyes following your overwhelmed excitement and tears brimming your eyes. Even if the last two days were hectic, but seeing you full of joy and love for them made it worth it.

"Hwa...I missed you. I missed all of you so much." You pressed your face into his chest, fighting not to cry on this precious day.

He caressed your back, stroking your head lightly when he planted a kiss on the crown of your head, "I missed you too, love. Happy Birthday." You raised your head up when he pecked your lips, giving you the warmest smile you could have asked for.

"Well, to make it special, we outdid our limit and here we are." Yeosang said and approached beside you, holding a tiara for you and as you turned towards him, he placed it on your head and kissed your temple, "always looking like my angel. Happy birthday to my sweety."

"Yeo...I missed your wake up hug on my birthday." He engulfed you in a tight, secure embrace and rested his chin on top of your head, "I'm hugging you now. The things we missed today since morning, we can start from now and continue till tomorrow."

You nodded in his warmth but soon he pulled himself apart from you when you felt two hands snaking around your waist from behind and breathing in your perfume at the crane of your neck, placing some feathery kiss when you closed your eyes in the essence, he brought his lips to your ears, pressing his lips to it and whispering, "happy Birthday, sweetheart. I missed you so much."

Your fingers lightly grabbed his hairs and your chest rose and fell heavily under his touch. Managing to bring your lips to his head, you kissed him, "I missed you too, San. Thank you for coming early."

He nodded between kissing your exposed shoulder, "I will come to you no matter how busy I am. I won't let you feel disappointed in me."

"I would never be disappointed in you, San. I love you."

"I love you too, y/n."

The others were watching the scene unfolding before them. Even though the look on their face was soft and warm but their thoughts and the visible dark lust in their eyes was oblivious to you. Oh! You are in for a long night with them because right at the moment they want to dive into a fairyland with you in their embrace.

"well thank me too. I especially planned for all these." Wooyoung's whiny voice made your eyelids parted and there he stood in front of you, a few steps away. But he was holding a box in his hand --- a cake. He is always the one to decide how your cake should be on every birthday.

"woo." San's hand slipped from around you and he chuckled when he watched you running towards the younger boy who quickly put away the cake beside him on the table and extended his arms for you. "You are here."

"yes, darling. I am and look this time I bought the perfect candles with the cake." He peppered your face with kisses until he placed a last kiss on your lips, whispering, "Happy Birthday, baby. I love you."

"I love you too, woo." You looked away from him, towards others and sent a warm smile, "I love you all. Thank you for this."

Hongjoong stepped forward beside San whose arms were folded in front of his chest. All of their gazes were focused on you, observing and memorizing every little detail and movements. It's been a month they last saw you and it felt like eternity.

Hongjoong smiled and patted your head, "we love you too, pretty."

"How did you guys know I would be here?" you raised your brows but still kept a smiley face.

Seonghwa shook his head and sighed, "don't ask that. We landed just in the morning and we got changed into casuals to give you surprise, without wasting time so we did all this at the hotel beside the airport. On our way to home, we went to Jaemin's café where we got to know that you were there just thirty minutes earlier."

"really?"

He nodded when Mingi added, "and guess what? Jongho was following you all the way when you went to the bookstore." Jongho chuckled and nodded proudly, "you were too cute to look at."

"where were you all? Did you go to the house?" you were surprised that they were following you all this while.

Yunho happily said, "Meanwhile we were preparing all this. Did you like it? I'm sorry if it's just basic and simple. We would arrange for something more. We could only ask for this place to be private for the rest of the day till midnight." he gestured to the surrounding area with his open arm.

"Yunho...I love it. Thank you." Your voice was genuinely filled with love, "this is more than I could have wished for today. This is not simple. This is more than my dream. You all are here and I'm spending my birthday with you all. What can I ask for more?"

Even if the decoration was simple, their hardwork, love and determination towards you was evident and it was warming your heart, filling it with hope and desire.

Yeosang cupped your cheeks, "you are too sweet for this world." He wiped your tears with the thumbs.

San held your shoulder and turned you around, pushing you from behind and leading you to the table, "now it's time to cut the cake, sweetheart. It's your day. No more crying."

Standing in front of the table, Wooyoung revealed the cake --- exactly the picture you had shown him a few weeks ago. He had ordered it right that day. Lighting up the candle, they surrounded you like small children celebrating their bestfriend's birthday. Maybe it's like that. But, y/n...you are their world.

"Happy Birthday, y/n!"

"thank you for everything, always."

As you blew out the candles, surrounded by the people you loved the most in the world, you made a silent wish: that you would always find ways to be together, to create memories, and to cherish every moment, no matter the distance or the challenges you all faced.

They led you to a beautifully set picnic spread under the tree, a garden tent house, decorated with flowers and complete with all your favorite foods. As you enjoyed the meal, you all laughed, reminisced, and savored the moment. The hours seemed to fly by in a haze of joy and love.

.

.

.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the park, you sat in between the legs of Seonghwa. Others near you and eyes in the same direction. You were set up in a cozy spot with blankets and pillows, perfect for watching the sunset. They shifted closer to you, you nestled between them, feeling the warmth of their presence.

"There's one more thing," Wooyoung said, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small, wrapped box. "Open it."

you carefully unwrapped the box to find a delicate necklace with a pendant in the shape of a heart. Inside the heart was a perfect picture of you nine together and on top of it written --- 9 makes a family.

"It's beautiful," you whispered, your voice filled with emotion.

"We wanted you to have something to remind you that no matter where we are, we're always with you," Hongjoong said, fastening the necklace around your neck.

As you watched the sun dip below the horizon, you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love. But they watched the sunset in your eyes. You were worth watching at the moment.

That night, as you walked back through the park, hand in hand, you realized that this birthday was more than you could have ever wished for. The surprise had been perfect, but what made it truly special was the love and effort they had put into making your day unforgettable.

you spent the remainder of your birthday conversing with them, sharing laughter and recounting memories. Jongho sang your favorite songs, they reminisce about their adventures, and promised to make up for their absence with an even grander celebration the next day. As you were drifting into slumber that night, you felt a serene sense of contentment. you knew that no matter the physical distance, their love would perpetually be with you, rendering every birthday a bit more luminous.

With them by your side, you knew that every birthday, every day, would be a little brighter, a little more magical. They had given you the greatest gift of all—their unwavering love.

Yunho placed a kiss on your nose and then on your lips when he felt you drifting off to sleep, "happy birthday again, princess."

NOTE: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. I don't know if this is how you wanted it to be but I hope you have enjoyed <3.

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg @corneliarstreet [open!]